THE BRIDE'S ORNAMENTS, Viz. Five MEDITATIONS, Moral and Divine.  
1. Knowledge, 2. Zeal, 3. Temperance, 4. Bounty, 5. joy..  JOHN 17. 3. This is life eternal, that they may know thee the only true God, and jesus Christ whom thou hast sent. 
LONDON, Printed by WILLIAM STANSBY. 1625.   

THE CONTENTS of the whole Book.  

The third Book.  
1. Knowledge.  
2. Zeal.  
3. Temperance.  
4. Bounty.  
5. joy..   

The fourth Book.  
1. Prudence.  
2. Obedience.  
3. Meekness.  
4. God's Word.  
5. Prayer.   

1. VRania.  
2. The Author's vow or wish, atthe Consecration of the Right Honourable the Lord Maynards' Chapel.  
3. The Muse's health to the same.  
4. The Converts Conquest.    

TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE AND REVEREND FATHER IN GOD, GEORGE, LORD Bishop of London, Lord high ALMENER to the Kings most Excellent MAJESTY.  

TO me thy Favour, to thee my Relation  
Do tie me in a double Obligation:  
These Graces five to thee to dedicate,  
Which best I think thy worth accommodate;  
Who art the bounteous Almener of the King  
Of Bounty; whose great wisdom did thee bring  
For thy large spirit, and well tempered zeal  
His Temples broken head and sides to heal:  
Whose love to Knowledge Humane & Divine,  
As in the Schools, so in the Church doth shine.  
These outward Virtues: plainly do declare,  
What inward Graces in thee likewise are:  
The chief is spiritual joy; which in thy Breast,  
God make thee feel, as we do see the rest.   
Your Lordships bounden in all duty and service,  
ROBERT AYLETT.   

To Reverend Divines.  

MOst honoured & beloved! Inquire you why  
A Lawyer meddles with Divinity?  
I dive no seas profound of disputation,  
But wade in shallow Fords of meditation:  
I write no Systema, no Institution  
No Babel's Fall, nor Zion's Restitution:  
Nor whither Tithes by Law divine are due,  
Or do to you by Positive accrue:  
These mysteries I leave to sound Divines,  
That searched have profundest Scripture-mines.  
Seditious superstitious Novelties  
I hate; my mind I only exercise  
In your pure, easy, sweet, divinest notions,  
And them, at leisure, suit to my devotions.    

To john a Nokes.  

THou lik'st my Verses well, but not to flatter,  
Dislik'st Divinity should be my matter.  
What now? will Lawyers turn Divines? that's brave.  
No: By no means! They have no souls to save.    

THE BRIDE'S ORNAMENTS.  

MEDITAT. I. Of Heavenly KNOWLEDGE.  

A Daily warfare is a Christians life,  
Where Soldiers all, not only stand in need  
Of Arms and Valour (to maintain the strife  
The cursed Serpent makes with Adam's seed)  
But of this Treasure, Knowledge, both to feed  
Their Souls with food most pure Celestial,  
And furnish with such Weapons as they need;  
I therefore her Love's Treasurer do call,  
For we in daily want stand of her Treasure all.   

By feigned Treasure; did the Serpent train  
Our two first Parents to their cursed sin;  
Pretending they should goodly treasure gain,  
And Knowledge, both of good and evil, win:  
But good doth end, where evil doth begin;  
For dross they do exchange their purest gold.  
The Serpent bad without, themselves within  
They find the evil, as the Serpent told:  
But up to Heaven flies good, which can no ill behold.   

Thus all our Treasures lost we had before,  
The Knowledge of God's nature and his will,  
And we become unarmed, rude, naked, poor;  
Of all things ignorant, but doing ill:  
Now us our enemies may easily kill,  
We having lost our weapons and our treasure:  
Which wealth and weapons if regain we will,  
We must attend this heavenly Lady's pleasure;  
Divine sweet Knowledge not confined by weight or measure.   

Thou Word incarnate! whom aright to know  
Is Life eternal, joy and happy rest,  
To me this Ladies wondrous Beauty show,  
And richest treasures, which in golden Chest  
Thou hidest from Hell and malice of the Beast;  
Knowledge, contained in either Testament:  
Wherein thy Will and Nature is expressed  
How we should live and Serpents sting prevent,  
How conquer Hell, and serve thee with a true intent.   

Some Knowledge call, th'habit of demonstration,  
Some her to know by causes do define;  
Some th'understandings sound determination,  
We her to heavenly Doctrine here confine:  
Which in a threefold Book to man doth shine,  
Of Creatures, first, and latter Testament,  
The Book of Creatures shows God's power divine,  
The Law is much in types and shadows spent,  
Whereof the Gospel is the full accomplishment.   

In Book of creatures, all men may observe  
God's Wisdom, Goodness; Power, and Providence,  
By which he made the world and doth preserve  
In truest motions, its circumference:  
Sending from Heaven raines sweetest influence;  
Filling our hearts with Mirth and joyfulness;  
And giving all things, Motion, Being, Sense:  
This doth God's power and Godhead plain express;  
But not his Will, which leads to endless happiness.   

Yet by this Book are left without excuse  
Idolaters, who down to stocks do fall;  
Which their own hands have made for such abuse,  
And leave their Maker, blessed over all;  
Who as his Power and Goodness general  
Appears most plainly in this World's Creation;  
So doth his gracious Bounty on them fall,  
In sending food for daily sustentation,  
And in their healths and lives continual preservation;   

The next two Books, most plainly do disclose  
Gods will particular, and general,  
Particular to Patriarches, Prophets, those  
That till Christ's time, on God aright did call:  
For this did not on all the Nations fall,  
God's will was then in jury only known:  
But now the Gospel soundeth out to all,  
The seed thereof in every Nation's sown,  
Which doth reveal hid mysteries before unknown.   

The first, God's power and providence doth show;  
The second, types out our Regeneration;  
The third, directly leadeth us to know  
All that is needful, for our own Salvation;  
Even from Election to Glorification:  
This Book reveals all secret mysteries,  
Hidden in Christ, before the World's foundation;  
Though worldlings this, as folly do despise,  
Yet this true Knowledge only happy, makes and wise.   

As some great Prince's might and Majesty,  
Is often to the meanest stranger known;  
But his most secret counsel and decree,  
To friends and counsellors is only shown.  
Even so the King of Kings holds not unknown  
From Heathens sight, his Majesty and might:  
But hath disclosed only to his own,  
The secret of his counsels, and delight;  
Whereby they may him worship, please, and serve aright.   

This is the Knowledge which I seek to trace,  
This only doth true happiness afford,  
Whereof the only cause is inward Grace,  
And understanding Gods most holy Word:  
The helps which humane Learning do record;  
Law, History, Arts, Physic, Poetry;  
Are but as servants waiting on their Lord,  
And handmaids to their dame Divinity;  
All Knowledge without this is foolish vanity.   

Sweet Grace, which dost true Knowledge of God's will,  
To Babes and sucklings oftentimes reveal,  
When from great Clerks of Wisdom and deep skill,  
Thy pleasure is this treasure to conceal;  
Oh sacred breath! which in our hearts doth steal,  
Like sweetest Zephyrus most pleasing wind,  
Whence no man knows, yet doth it surely seal,  
That certain Knowledge which I seek to find,  
Knowledge of God and Christ the Saviour of mankind.   

All Graces that do serve Love's Royal Queen  
From heavenly Knowledge have their maintenance,  
And always in her company are seen,  
None without Knowledge may near Love advance;  
With her are Diligence, and Temperance:  
True Faith so near her ever doth attend,  
You would her take for Knowledge at a glance,  
Though often Faith doth so herself transcend,  
That she beyond the reach of Knowledge doth ascend.   

Not Faith alone, but Works accompany  
True Knowledge, who in words doth make profession  
He knows God, but in Works doth him deny,  
Is even a liar by his own confession;  
How many from this rule do make digression?  
That would in Knowledge be accounted high,  
But give themselves to Pride, Lust, and Oppression;  
Envy, dissembling, Schism, Idolatry  
Alas true Knowledge never kept such company.   

Some only seek to know, that they may know;  
And this is foolish curiosity,  
And some of Learning make a goodly show,  
And this is base and idle vanity:  
Some Knowledge seek for their utility,  
Or their preferment, which is filthy gain,  
Some to teach other, which is Charity,  
Some by this Knowledge seek Heaven to attain,  
To know and walk not right is damnable and vain.   

I liken this true Knowledge to the flower,  
Or blossom springing from the root of Grace,  
That doth most gloriously adorn Love's bower,  
And fills with pleasant odours all the place:  
Which blossom beautiful, in little space,  
Itself into most goodly fruits doth spend,  
Faith, Mercy, Peace each good and perfect grace,  
Which fruit so far the flower doth transcend,  
God, Men, and Angels taste it, and the same commend.   

As Blossoms do not from root lively spring,  
That after blowing, have a fruitless fall;  
So Knowledge that in Works is vanishing,  
Had never any root from grace at all.  
But is like to good seed, that's said to fall  
From sowers hand, down by the highway side,  
Whose rooting being shallow, loose, and small,  
Could not the Sun's hot scorching heat abide;  
But in the blade, with some, small light affliction died.   

Some liken heavenly Knowledge to the Sun,  
Than which in this world nothing more to sight  
Objected is: But we by Sin become,  
Like him borne blind, deprived of natural light.  
Till some Power supernatural enlight,  
And though more plain in this world nothing's shown,  
Than God's eternal Godhead, goodness, might;  
Yet until Grace enlighten 'tis unknown,  
No cause hereof in God, but in ourselves is known.   

Knowledge is like the talents which the Lord,  
When he went forth did to his servants lend:  
The first who his one talon up did hoard,  
Like him, that for his Knowledge doth contend;  
But therewith not himself, nor others mend:  
He that with talents two, gained other twain;  
Is he that doth his time and labour spend  
To save himself, and those with him remain,  
But he that gained the five; seeks all men's souls to gain.   

I Knowledge to the Virgin's Lamps compare,  
Which foolish maids had common with the Wise,  
Oil works of Piety and Mercy are;  
Which foolish Virgins idly do misprise,  
But when one, Lo the Bridegroom comes, out cries,  
The foolish Virgin's Lamps are spent and done,  
Wherefore they must to merits merchandise,  
And borrow when they of their own have none,  
The Church's Treasury will furnish every one.   

Like Widow's Oil, that doth increase by spending,  
Like flames, that lightning others, gain more light.  
Like Usurer's coin, that doth augment by lending;  
Like joy, that most increaseth by delight.  
Like Manna that the Angel's food is height,  
Whereof each gathers what may him suffice:  
Except such as in fleshpots more delight,  
Like Springs which more you draw, the faster rise,  
Like Tutors, who by teaching Scholars, grow more wise.   

No Simile can her so well express,  
As infinite and boundless treasury;  
Or Sea of waters which become no less:  
Though Fountains all with streams it doth supply.  
How infinite is this grand mystery,  
To lay of nothing this huge World's foundation:  
One God, three persons in the Trinity,  
Oh depth of Knowledge! God's own Incarnation,  
Obedience, Passion, Resurrection, Exaltation.   

Oh! I am drowned, here Elephants may swim,  
My Lamblike Muse in shallow Fords must wade,  
And seek for Knowledge to desist from Sin,  
And make Faith, Mercy, Piety my trade.  
By Faith, I know, Christ's merits mine are made;  
The rest are-fruits of my Sanctification,  
Abundant Knowledge doth with sorrow lad,  
To Know and do God's willis delectation,  
And only by Christ's merits bringeth to Salvation.   

This is the Knowledge which our Saviour meant,  
When as he it eternal life did call;  
To know God, and the Christ which he had sent:  
This is the Knowledge so much sought of all,  
Before and since the Law, and ever shall,  
Though till Christ's time, it was so shadowed;  
As covered it in types and signs seemed small,  
But since Time's fullness is accomplished,  
Behold, they all in Christ are easy to be read.   

By this did Abel offer of his Sheep,  
The fat, and God accepted his oblation:  
By this so well God's Law did Henoch keep,  
He him exalted from earth's habitation;  
For this did Abram jeave both house and Nation,  
Assured, that from out his Loins should spring  
That Knowledge, which to know was his salvation  
Herein did David, though he were a King,  
Take more delight than Crown, or any worldly thing.   

See next his royal son, King Solomon,  
Than whom arise a Wiser never shall,  
Who knew plants natures, e'en from Lebanon  
Her Cedar's tall to Hyssop by the wall:  
Who as in Wealth in Knowledge passed all;  
Yet after he had traced Vanity,  
And found how sons of men thereby did fall.  
Him to this Knowledge did again apply:  
And swan-like sang Christ's Churches Epithalamy.   

Wake I, or sleep, or am I in a trance?  
Or do another Solomon behold?  
A David who doth far and wide advance,  
His gracious sceptre? But no bounds can hold  
His Knowledge, secret things for to unfold;  
Law, History, Arts and Philosophy,  
All noble sciences that can be told,  
Yet seems to love alone Divinity.  
Which truly can direct in Peace to live and die.   

Who as he is the Learnedest of Kings,  
So 'tis his joy and Glory for to be,  
The King of learned men; which in all things,  
Makes God to prosper him as all may see,  
This makes him raise to place of high degree,  
Men of great knowledge, well to rule the Land,  
And put down Ignorance and subtlety,  
Which highest in their own conceits do stand;  
Long sway thou Britons Sceptre with thy sacred hand.   

And when thy Cloak, Elias-like, must fall  
Upon Elisha thine undoubted heir,  
Inherit he thy Peace and Knowledge all,  
And in thy Spirit rule as in thy chair:  
But I must leave this field so ample fair,  
Teach me, O Lord, to know and do thy will,  
And let thy grace again in me repair  
Thine Image lost, and all corruptions kill;  
Thus we thy will on Earth, as they in Heaven fulfil.   

This knowledge must stand by us at our last,  
When as we ready are our souls to tender  
To him, that for false knowledge curious taste,  
Though guiltless did his life to justice render:  
For this the Holy Ghost doth more commend her,  
That bore her Saviour's knowledge in her breast;  
Than that she bore him in her womb; yet tender,  
For One all Generations call her blest,  
By th'other one of his true members she doth rest.   

But though this only necessary is,  
And first for our salvation to be sought,  
We only at our last of it have miss,  
As too mean subject for ambitious thought:  
Thus the unlearned rise, and heaven have caught,  
When greatest Clerks with Sciences profound,  
Heartless, and comfortless to Hell are brought,  
For God doth their great wisdom oft confound,  
Because their inward parts are not sincere and sound.   

Alas! of knowledge here we have no care,  
But all our youth in follies idly spend;  
Our strength in lusts and strifes away we wear;  
In age we worldly profit all intend:  
Alas what gain we by this at our end?  
When our frail Body doth return to dust,  
Our Soul to him that gave it must ascend,  
Whereof least jot of time account they must,  
Which hath been spent in discord, profit, folly, lust.   

Oh! knew we but the virtue of this treasure?  
Like to the Merchant wise, we would sell all  
To buy it, where we should find profit, pleasure,  
Such joy as never on our hearts did fall:  
Oh heavenly Comfort! joy spiritual:  
Delight unspeakable in hearts that ' grow,  
Of those that she is conversant withal;  
What joy can there be greater than to know  
Gods endless Love in Christ, which she to us doth show.   

Sure I could wish my whole life here to spend,  
In this divine most holy contemplation,  
whereof I know not how to make an end,  
She yields such plenty of sweet meditation:  
Most heavenly mysteries of our Creation,  
Wherein appear Gods might and Majesty;  
But above all his love in man's salvation  
This is that wondrous hidden mystery,  
Into the which e'en Angels did desire to pry.   

But we confess though thou dost here reveal,  
Abundant knowledge, yet we little know  
Wherefore against us the Heathen may appeal  
Who though thou didst to them but glimpses show  
Of Truth, and justice, did more righteous grow,  
Than we that do thy sacred Truth confess;  
And make of Purity a glorious show;  
But to adorn the Gospel we profess  
With works of Charity, Ah! we do nothing less.   

Oh it is meat and drink, we know not of;  
To know and do our heavenly Father's will:  
Our blessed Saviour always fed thereof,  
And hereof Saints and Angels eat their fill.  
These are the fruitful plants which flourish still,  
Milk, Honey, living Water, spiced Wine;  
Which do refresh Christ's Spouse when she is ill:  
These richest jewels, which her make so fine,  
Locks, Ribbons, Roses, which so gloriously do shine.   

For this, she is the Bridegroom's darling Dove,  
And unto her that bore her, only dear:  
For this the daughters, when they see her love,  
And all the Queens and Wives make merry cheer:  
This makes her look than Sun and Moon more clear.  
Her navel, belly, head, neck, breasts adorn;  
With these she to her husband doth appear,  
More beautiful, than is the fairest morn;  
Or fair like twinning Ewes, on Gilead washed and shorn.   

Thou that such heavenly Knowledge didst instill,  
Into plain Fishers that they could confound  
By argument, even Clerks of greatest skill,  
And dive into thy Mysteries profound:  
Who by their cloven-fiery tongues forth sound,  
The Knowledge of thy Truth to every Nation;  
Canst make this Knowledge in mine heart abound,  
By one, spark of divine illumination,  
And ravish my weak soul with heavenly admiration.   

And though imperfect here our Knowledge be,  
By reason of our humane imperfection,  
And for by Faith alone, we things do see,  
And nothing know indeed in true perfection;  
Yet when thy Spirit clears our mind's infection,  
We shall then know, even as we now are known;  
And things now seen, by mirrour-like inspection;  
To us shall be most evidently shown,  
In Knowledge we shall reap, what we in Faith have sown.   

What then's imperfect, shall be done away,  
Knowledge shall perfect our felicity;  
Which is our free beholding God, for ay,  
In his great Goodness, Love, and Majesty,  
So far as finite may infinity,  
Farther to reach my Muse dares not be bold,  
When Angels of so high sublimity,  
God's Light and Majesty cannot behold,  
Finite with infinite can no proportion hold.    

MEDITAT. I. Of ZEAL and godly JEALOUSY.  

OH that some holy fire enlightening,  
My Soul now ravish would with thoughts divine,  
Whilst I of jealousy, Love's daughter sing,  
And godly Zeal, which like the Sun doth shine,  
Alas! Minerva, and the Muses nine,  
Are too weak helps their aid here to entreat,  
With Colefrom Altar let some Seraphine  
Touch my rude tongue, and set my brain on heat,  
The Glory of this Grace in lofty rhimes to sweat.   

Fit Subject, for a sacred Poet's Verse,  
Which should itself in Ecstasy transcend,  
Zeals sacred Praise, with Knowledge to rehearse  
Both Method and Devotion do commend:  
Who as the household Chaplain doth intend,  
To all that live in Royal Court of Love;  
And Prayers for them all, to heaven doth send,  
For without Zeal none possible can move,  
To high Olympus' Court, the Seat of mighty jove.   

For Prayers that to Heaven seek to ascend,  
Without the Fervour of this sacred Zeal,  
Fall down like smoky vapours, that intent  
Into Airs middle region to steal:  
But those that are supported by her seal  
Like Fumes of incense by the Lamb contend  
e'en in th'Almighties presence to reveal  
Our wants, and crave his aid us to defend:  
Against worlds and Serpents poison to our latest end.   

Oh! thou, to whom it was both drink and meat,  
To finish and to do thy Father's Will,  
Whom Zeal of Gods own house e'en up did eat,  
And made thee on the Cross thy blood to spill:  
Who whipst out Merchants that thy house did fill,  
With doves and money, thieves and merchandise,  
Some Zea-lous juice into my pen distil,  
And raise my mind above her wont guise,  
That so my Muse may with her matter sympathize.   

All other holy Grace's disposition,  
By rules of Art I formerly define;  
But Zeal so fervent is no definition  
Can her contain, or bound in any line;  
Only she is by nature, pure, divine,  
Beloved daughter to the Queen of Love,  
Whose mothers Graces, so in her do shine,  
She well the primate of her Court may prove,  
And ranked be for place, all other Pears above.   

I here omit that Zeal, which without hate  
Of others, doth to virtuous deeds contend,  
And us inflames that good to emulate,  
Which we to be in others apprehend:  
I here that holy jealousy commend,  
Which only doth from Love divine proceed;  
When, not for our, but God's cause, we intent  
To love both him and his in word and deed,  
For this is that right Zea'le which of true Love doth breed.   

Truth comes by knowledge, and from zeal, devotions;  
When therefore zeal doth with true knowledge meet,  
She doth enlarge our hearts with heavenly notions,  
Sublime, transcendent, admirable, sweet;  
But where this knowledge wants, she's undiscreet,  
Rash, violent, seditious, rude and blind,  
Faults for so fair a Lady far unmeet;  
You see two zeals here of a differing kind,  
I leave the worst, and seek the fairest out to find.   

Sweet Lady! daughter to the Queen of Love;  
Which is the cause of Zeal and jealousy,  
If you will ask me what this Queen doth move,  
To love us wretches that in sin do lie;  
I answer, Goodness of her Majesty.  
Most excellent is then this holy fire,  
Of zeal, proceeding from such ancestry,  
Goodness and Love, which therefore we require  
To true effects of Love and Goodness to aspire.   

Sweet zeal! How fairly dost thou beautify  
Th'affection, where thou mak'st thy habitation,  
Like Temple, which thy Lord did purify,  
When as his Soul with zeal and indignation,  
Was moved to see God's Temples profanation,  
Not suffering thy house of endless rest,  
To be abused by Pride or lustful passion,  
Th'affection which doth lodge within my breast,  
The Temple where Christ and the Holy Ghost should rest.   

Companions of Zeal are Piety,  
Faith, Knowledge, Patience, Fortitude, and Right,  
In works of Mercy, Peace, and Charity,  
And sweet Humility is her delight:  
With all her Power she is opposite  
Against all that God's glory may oppose,  
She spends in fervent Prayers, day and night;  
And those by Knowledge doth so well compose,  
They bring Gods blessings down, and up his judgements close.   

Oh Zeal with Knowledge, Faith and Charity,  
Who able is thy virtue to commend,  
Which doth the Church into one Body tie,  
And for God's glory only dost contend:  
For public good, and not for private end.  
Lo! th' Angells-Being doth in zeal consist;  
Whose sacred ardour doth all flames transcend,  
Wherewith they oft enlight our minds dark mist,  
When flames of hottest zeal they to our soul suggest.   

Oh! Love as strong as Death and jealousy,  
Cruel as grave: Thy flames like coals of fire  
Consume and burn up all most violently,  
No Streams or Floods can quench her sacred ire,  
Should we sell all we have, we could not buy her:  
The Daughter zeal is like the Mother free,  
Them both from Heaven th' Almighty doth inspire,  
And therefore neither will affronted be,  
With Rivals, Heathen Gods most base Idolatree.   

Fond Zeal that's fitly called which doth want  
Faith, Knowledge, Love divine, and Graces all,  
It still doth most vain superstitions haunt,  
And to most base Idolatry doth fall,  
Unhuman Fury; Madness tragical!  
Of men, whom thus blind zeal and strange desire,  
Transports beyond rage diabolical,  
To offer up their children in the fire  
Of some offended devil to appease the ire.   

Strange is this zealous fury of the rude,  
When Ignorance doth guide their blind devotion,  
The gathering of the froward multitude,  
When they be stirred with some fervent motion:  
All following some brainsick idle notion,  
With discontent, against authority,  
Raise Schisms in Church, in Commonwealth Commotion;  
Pretending all their Conscience-liberty,  
Alas! these be no fruits of holy jealousy.   

God often by an Anthropopathy,  
By which his nature best we understand,  
Ascribes unto himself this jealousy,  
As being linked in Hymen's holy band;  
Unto his Church, his undefiled: And  
His Church again, to show her fervent Love,  
And joy she takes in her new joined hand,  
Like Lovesick Bride the Bridegroom oft doth prove,  
And him with zeal invites her to embrace and Love..   

Never new wedded Bridegroom was more fain  
Of his new-Bride, than Christ is of his Dove,  
Never did truest Turtle more complain,  
For loss of Mate, than this Spouse of her Love;  
It would a stony heart to fountains move  
Of tears to hear the Churches piteous moan,  
When she doth miss him whom her Soul doth love,  
Where's my beloved? Ah whither is she gone?  
And left his saddest Deer, to sigh and sit alone.   

And therefore as a Signet on his heart,  
And as the Seal that is on his right hand,  
She would be joined, that she might never part,  
But always in his Grace and presence stand.  
No Keeper in Christ's Vineyard must command,  
He will his Vineyard prune and dress alone,  
Whereby his jealousy we understand,  
His Vine the Bridegroom will have dressed of none,  
The Bride out of his presence never will be gone.   

Doth mine invention fail? that wont to flow  
In Similes, that make hard things seem plain?  
Or doth the whole Creation here below,  
Nothing afford zeals nature to explain?  
Alas all earthly Similes are vain  
T'express the nature of this Heavenly fire,  
Which in the glorious Angels doth remain,  
And in the Spirits of that blessed Choir,  
Which here with Hymns and Praises do Gods love admire.   

Shall dust and ashes dare yet be so bold,  
Her to the holy fire to compare  
Which in the Bush thy servant did behold  
Flaming, but did the Bush not sing or sear:  
Such flames of zeal oft in our hearts there are,  
Which do enlighten them, but not consume  
These flames our Prayers to jehova bear,  
By these our Praises spiritually up fume,  
And in God's nostrils are like incense and perfume.   

Or shall I like her to some Lioness  
Robbed of her whelps, by some adventurous hand,  
Who in her wondrous woe, and furiousness,  
Deuour's and slays all in her way that stand:  
Who can the force of jealousy withstand?  
Being of so great strength and wondrous might,  
God grant our zeal the Truth may understand,  
And that true Knowledge may your mind's inlight,  
To make us zealous for God's glory and the right.   

May I not like her to strong churlish wine,  
Which doth confound the brain, inflame the blood:  
But cooled with water pure, and sugar fine,  
For both of them is sovereign and good:  
e'en so doth jealousies most fervent mood,  
Allayed with sugar of sweet Charity,  
And cooled with sweetest Crystalline pure flood,  
The silent streams of soft Humility,  
Transcend in all good works, of Love and Pietic.   

This is the zeal and sacred emulation,  
Which the Original doth signify;  
Which hath with Love in Heaven her habitation,  
And all our actions here doth sanctify,  
And when our Maker us shall glorify,  
Behold! our zeal shall in perfection shine,  
Begun on earth in true sincerity,  
And as our Fleshly courage doth decline,  
Our zeal will grow more hot, and nearest to divine.   

Zeal made old Abram, Hagars' son reject,  
For scoffing at his holy promised seed,  
And Moses Pharaohs Court and grace neglect,  
When he th' Egyptians Destiny did reed,  
That smote a brother of the holy breed:  
This zeal made noble Phineas with his spear,  
Slay Zimry and Cosbi in their damned deed,  
Though Saul the fat of Amalec would spare;  
Yet samuel's zeal doth agag's flesh in pieces tear.   

Oh had his Master Eli's burnt so hot  
Against his sons, when they by violence  
The fattest of God's offerings from him got,  
And with foul Lust defiled the sacred Tents:  
Had he like Phineas punished this offence?  
Our ears then should not have so tingeled,  
To hear of God's great wrath and sore offence,  
He and his sons in one day slaughtered,  
And all his race from th' Ark for ever banished.   

Zeal made the warlike David to aspire  
To build an house for Gods own habitation,  
And though wars crossed his zeal and good desire,  
Yet made he for it royal preparation,  
And's Son it finished on his laid foundation,  
Who gold and silver vessels in did bring,  
It making judah's joy, the admiration  
Of all the World, the Seat of the great King,  
Whither the Tribes go up, for his true worshipping.   

I may with this example dignify  
The noble zeal of our late famous Queen,  
Who much desired to re-edify  
Paul's Temples ruins, which so fearful seem,  
And make her fair as ever she was seen:  
But wars abroad, and broils within her Land,  
Most fatal to this pious work have been;  
So as it still most ruinous doth stand,  
Expecting help from Solomon's pacificke hand.   

Zeal like a Torch it own self doth consume,  
whilst burning it to others giveth light,  
And like to sweetest incense and perfume  
For others Good, spends all her force and might,  
Oh blessed fire! if kindled aright,  
It burn with Love of Heaven, and holy things,  
Retaining in our hearts, both day and night,  
His sweet embraces, who is King of Kings,  
Loathing the world's vain wanton wicked dallyings.   

This Cupid be thy souls and hearts delight,  
Whose Bow and golden shafts of Zeal and Love,  
Do conquer Fury's, Fates, and world's despite,  
And stay the thunderbolts of angry jove:  
Oh see the force of Love and Zeal doth move  
All powers that in Heaven, Earth, Hell transcend;  
Grant thee alone I zealously may Love;  
And let thy jealousy me safe defend,  
That never to strange Gods I my affection bend.   

Let us learn zeal of him that in the day's  
Of's flesh, did offer Prayers, supplication  
With strongest cries and tears to God always,  
That able was to save him from his Passion;  
And learn of him true holy indignation,  
To be even eaten up with fervent zeal,  
To see thieves den, in Gods own habitation,  
But first let Knowledge our Commission seal  
That where this Fervour wounds, our Charity may heal.   

But ah our zeal of Prayer now grows cold,  
Zeal of God's glory like our Charity,  
And as the world declines, now waxing old,  
Even so doth all our zeal and piety:  
We raise our houses even to dare the sky,  
But raze God's Temples equal with the ground,  
Our Fathers built them for posterity,  
And left with Ornaments adorned round,  
But we them with their Ornaments seek to confound.   

As for the Temples of the Holy Ghost,  
I mean our hearts the Bridegroom's habitation,  
We will bestow on them no spiritual cost,  
But leave them foiled with vilest profanation;  
Pride, Lust, Vainglory, all abomination,  
'tis time to wish this holy Bishop's zeal  
Would make of them to God new consecration,  
And that the Holy Ghost their doors would seal,  
Against all spiritual thieves, that holy goods would steal.   

Oh that some holy fit of Heavenly fire,  
Raising my Muse to zealous contemplation,  
Would in mine heart that fervent flame inspire,  
And zealous Love Saint Paul bore to his nation,  
When, as he could have wished e'en reprobation  
For their sakes, from whose flesh Christ did descend;  
Or of the Prophet, by predestination  
Most sure, his name in Book of Life was penned  
Yet wished it wiped out God's glory to defend.   

But I confess, we rather do envy,  
God's gifts and graces in our brethren,  
And josuah-like forbid them prophesy,  
Showing more zeal to honour Greatness, then  
To Glorify the King of Heaven, yea when  
We in our hearts find any emulation,  
'Tis for vainglory, and the praise of men,  
To build our houses, not God's habitation,  
And leave fair large possessions to our generation.   

Let us with David make a sacred vow,  
And to th'almighty God of jacob swear  
Never to come within our house, nor bow  
Our Limbs upon our Beds, till we prepare  
A place God's spiritual Temple up to rear:  
Nor ever suffer sleep within our eyes,  
Or slumber in our eyelids to appear,  
Till we an habitation do devose,  
Where we may to th'almighty offer sacrifice.   

My mind inflame Lord with that hot desire  
And zeal to glorify thy holy name,  
That like thy Martyrs I may dread no fire,  
Because I feel within a hotter flame.  
Hot Coals therefore shall be to me the same,  
As to the Martyr was the Boiling Oil,  
Which did more cool indeed than him inflame,  
Because his zeal within did hotter boil,  
Sweet heavenly dews do most enrich the hottest soil.   

Oh were mine head a conduit full of tears,  
Mine eyes two rocks continually to run,  
As well to cleanse foul Lusts of youthful years,  
As cool the zealous slames in me begun;  
Had I thus once my Bridegroom's presence won,  
I never would let go my well-laid hold,  
Till he into my Mother's chamber come,  
With sweet embraces ay, me to enfold,  
His ardent Love would never let my zeal grow cold.    

MEDITAT. III. Of TEMPERANCE.  

MY Muse now fares like to some Pilot wise,  
Who having some dread storms of danger past,  
That tossed his vessel oft up to the skies,  
Now sailing in the calm with temperate blast,  
Goes gently on, lest too much dangerous haste  
His ship unwares on hidden rock impight,  
And him and all his hopes away should cast,  
For thus it oft befalls some careless wight,  
To wreck in fairest calm, when they the storm have quite.   

I late was tossed in rough and boisterous Sea,  
Of Zeal and jealousy, which having passed,  
I am to sail in calm and fairest Lea,  
Of Temperance, most abstinent and chaste;  
Therefore my Muse goes on with sober haste,  
Knowing against her many dangers lie,  
Which by the touch, tongue, smell, eye, ear, or taste,  
Would her entrap, and bring in jeopardy,  
Which Poets by the Syr'ts and Sirens do imply.   

And therefore did the famous blind Bards quill,  
Prefer Ulysses in his Court of Fame,  
Who of this Temperance had got the skill,  
Fore Aiax, Hector, or Achilles' name,  
His Odysseys may testify the same  
Which were composed his Temperance to commend  
By which he men and monsters overcame,  
And did life, honour, chastity defend,  
Against Sirens and Enchantments to his latest end.   

And sure the Heathen, to all Christians shame,  
Seemed wondrously us herein to transcend,  
But that they wanted that most holy flame  
Of zeal, which I so lately did commend,  
And knowledge, which should guide them to their end,  
All that they had by nature's light was shown,  
But God his holy Word to us doth send,  
Whereby his Will and Counsel is made known,  
What fruit then ought we bear, where so good seed is sown.   

Eve was the first Author of Intemperance,  
Led by her eye, nice taste, and fond desire  
Of Knowledge, with proud wicked Ignorance,  
And changed God's Love to everlasting ire,  
The Garden losing for eternal fire;  
But what she lost his Temperance doth gain,  
Whose aid now in mine entrance I desire  
Who from all food, did forty days abstain,  
And all's Life from intemperate, thought, word, deed, refrain.   

This Virtue some do make so Cardinal,  
That all the rest, in her they would imply,  
As Love, Peace, Concord, Pudour Virginal,  
Gentleness, Meekness, Liberality,  
Thrift, Silence, Friendship, Goodness, Gravity,  
Honesty, Pureness, all true moderation,  
Which doth withhold from Sin and Vanity,  
And bringeth unto true humiliation:  
Most happy Mother of so fair a Generation.   

But in some limits that I may her bound,  
I her define to be a moderation  
Of such desires, as are within us found  
In Diet, Actions, Words, and Affectation;  
For with these fow'r I bound my Meditation;  
In Diet she requires Sobriety,  
In Actions, true unfeigned humiliation,  
Her Words she graceth aye with Modesty,  
And her affections charms with Meekness; Chastity.   

See in her Diet, first Sobriety,  
In words and actions true humiliation,  
Accompanied with precious Modesty;  
Last Continence from Lust, and angry Passion,  
The cause of all is prudent Moderation;  
The aged Palmer, Spencer, Guyons' trusty guide,  
That stands against all stubborn perturbation,  
By whose sage help, secure and safe we slide,  
By whirlpools, and deep gulfs which gape for us so wide.   

For all through this world's boisterous Sea must pass,  
Before we at our quiet Haven arrive,  
The Boat our Body is, as brittle glass,  
Our Steersman▪ Temperance, it right doth drive,  
Besides the Rocks, that threat this Boat to rive;  
Are many Gulfs, and Whirlpools of decay  
Which wait th' Affections, and the Senses five  
By force and sweet Allurements to assay,  
Some fall by rage and diet, some by lustful play.   

But in that Body where doth reason sway,  
And Sense and Passion be obedient,  
There the affections all behold you may  
In happy peace, and goodly government:  
There Temperance adorns her glorious Tent,  
With virtues all to make it shine most bright,  
The mirror of Gods works most excellent,  
And to them all such bounteous banquets dight,  
As may be best for Health, Praise, Profit, and Delight.   

Most glorious frame of nature! which she built,  
The whole world in one point t'epitomize,  
Just, pure, and perfect, till intemprate guilt,  
Her Maker's Hests by Pride did foul misprise,  
Since that she learned to belowly, wise,  
And not obey intemperate desire,  
Thus she her glorious house reedifies,  
And most of all doth lowly Cells admire,  
The loftiest is no place for temperate retire.   

She therefore never comes in company,  
Of such as swim in pride, and bathe in bliss,  
Wasting their days in ease and luxury,  
For in such ease, men easily do amiss,  
But he whose mind in study watchful is,  
Whose limbs are toiled with labour, mind, with pain;  
She these as her sweet darlings dear doth kiss,  
The idle life cannot to her attain;  
Before her Gate, high God employment did ordain!   

Excess doth make the mind of beastly man,  
Forget his first created excellence;  
That pure estate in which his Life began,  
And as a Beast that wants intelligence,  
'Twixt sense and reason put no difference,  
But like a Brute of base and swinish kind;  
Delights in filth and foul incontinence,  
For Lust and Wine so far transform the mind,  
Affections bear the sway, and royal reason bind.   

Thus Bacchus Fountain's turned to puddle lake,  
Wherein like filthy beasts base men lie drowned,  
And Swine's of God's fair Images do make;  
This vice hath now with us such footing found,  
As Drunkenness with glory doth abound,  
Pure Liber, wont to be the Muse's friend,  
All musing, Wit and Learning doth confound,  
The Flemings this did first to us commend,  
But herein we them and all Nations now transcend.   

No better stratagem doth Satan know,  
(I always must except base drunkenness)  
Then gaming all our youth to overthrow,  
The fruit Intemperate of Idleness  
Oh horrible, infernal wickedness:  
To hear a wretch, his Maker's name blaspheme,  
When Dice or Carding cross his good success,  
And e'en his Soul, which Christ's blood did redeem;  
With his estate, to hazard to a dies esteem.   

Intemprate, drinking, Play, smoke, in excess  
Is now our gallants only occupation,  
The poisoning fruits of their loose Idleness,  
Base Gourmandizing, filthy Fornication  
Is turned from foul reproach to commendation,  
Now use of Arms and manly exercise,  
Are held a toil and not a recreation;  
Who so is moderate, chaste, valiant, wise,  
Him as precise and cynical they do despise.   

Oh foolish Man! learn Temperance of thy Dog,  
Thine Horse and Hawk, wherein thou tak'st delight,  
Which when they should show sport, thou dost not clog  
And fill with food, their greedy appetite;  
Thou them dost diet, that they may be light,  
And keep'st from Lust, their courage to prolong,  
One dulls the Body, th'other kills the Spirit,  
But Abstinence doth make both swift and strong,  
The temperate man's days are happy healthful long.   

And may unto Paul's Pilot be compared,  
Whose vessel with exceeding tempest tossed,  
Vnlades, and lightens, having most regard,  
To save his Life, though all his goods be lost;  
e'en so the temperate man in this world crossed,  
With baits of appetite, lust, anger, pride,  
Makes use of those that for his use are most,  
But needless things, wherewith his vessels cloyed,  
With his own hands doth to the hungry, fish divide.   

When I behold the stately Firmament,  
Adorned with glorious Lamps of heavenly fire;  
The Stars with their appointed rooms content,  
And neither other to supplant desire;  
Their Temperance in Heaven, I do admire:  
But then I view the anbitious sparks below,  
Who to possess the whole Earth do aspire;  
And all poor Cottages to overthrow,  
That stopped their prospect, great alone on earth to grow.   

Nature with small, no plenty Lust can bond,  
Unlimited desires here satisfy,  
No Gold, nor Silver can, though they abound,  
Like stones amongst the wise King's vanity:  
Though jesses' Son have such variety  
Of Wives and Maids, yet comes the stranger, Lust,  
Urias' only Lamb for him must dye,  
No homebred fare, can satisfy base dust;  
But strange rare cates from foreign nations have we must.   

The temprate man, I to a Brook compare,  
Contented with sweet Fountains of her own;  
Which runs most pleasant, pure, delightful, clear:  
But if with floods her channels once be flown,  
Then straight her troubled waters foul are grown.  
So whilst we Temperance with us retain,  
And no excess of Diet's in us known,  
Our heart from ire, our bed is free from stain:  
But cease from Temperance, and all is foul again.   

And as pure Streams continue sweet and clear,  
Whilst they within their Channels swiftly flow,  
Refreshing all the plants and flowers near,  
But if they idly stand, or run but slow,  
Then thick and foul like idle lake they grow:  
Even so the man that doth his mind advance,  
His Maker's heavenly will to do and know,  
To honour shall be raised above all chance,  
But he that idle grows falls to Intemperance.   

She is a short, but a most pleasant way,  
Wherein small labour is but much delight,  
The Empress that doth our affection's sway,  
The Genus of all other virtues hight,  
Pillar of Fortitude, The Helmet bright,  
Against Lasciviousness, The eyes best guide,  
Bond of goodwill, of cogitations light,  
Restraint; The Enemy of Lust and Pride,  
The Souls chaste counsellor, her vow ' and prayers to guide.   

Of Prudence and true Wisdom the foundation,  
To him that hath her, can no ill befall,  
No greater wealth can be then Contentation,  
Who hath her, hath that, who lacks that, wants all,  
Who nothing need; e'en Gods the Heathen call.  
Fortune may bring us wealth and royal fare,  
But Temperance must give content withal,  
By her we freed from perturbations are,  
And having daily bread, do take no farther care:   

For from her Temper she receives her name,  
As being of extremes the moderation,  
The golden means that doth affections frame,  
Actions and Words to nature's ordination,  
Unspotted pure as at our first Creation:  
Thus we abstain from Lust and Violence,  
And though on earth is yet our Conversation,  
We hope ere long to be received hence,  
Mean while, our Life's a sacrifice of Continence.   

Thus see our protoplasts first clothed in skins  
The green herb of the field their only meat,  
The Beasts their Conuives, and the Woods their Inns,  
To shield from cold, and save from scorching heat,  
And all this must be got with toil and sweat,  
No living thing was then allowed good;  
For, as the learned think, man might not eat,  
Of any living creature till the Flood,  
But since, as the green herb, God gave them all for food.   

How often did the Fathers pray and fast,  
And some from women, some from wine abstain,  
Till sixty years they keep their bodies chaste,  
A Temprate and chaste seed here to obtain:  
When Ruth at Booz feet, all night had lain  
He ladeth her with corn and sends away,  
From lawless Lust he doth himself contain,  
Though he had drank, and cheered his heart that day,  
An habit of true Temperance see here you may.   

joseph would not against his Maker sin,  
For Pharoahs' Stewards Ladies soft embrace,  
Yet easier 'tis a walled town to win,  
Than to resist temptations vile and base,  
Nought sooner doth our lives with Lust disgrace,  
Than bathe in ease and swim in foul excess,  
Had David been at war in joabs' place  
He had not fall'n into such wickedness,  
Adultery, the fruit of fullness, Idleness.   

Oh tell me David, where was then become,  
Thy fasting wont thy soul to humble so,  
That it was wont to thy reproach to come,  
And weakened so thy knees, thou couldst not go?  
Thy tears which did to such great plenty grow,  
They were thy meat and drink, both day and night,  
All watering thy couch, so they did slow,  
That e'en my Muse weeps at thy piteous plight,  
Yet had thy soul therein unspeakable delight.   

I cannot but admire the Temperance,  
Of that great Monarch; mighty Phillip's Son,  
Who when he had unto his governance,  
Darius' Empire, Wife and Daughters won,  
Their beauty would by no means look upon;  
Esteeming it a most unworthy deed,  
When he so many men had overcome,  
To be of one weak woman conquered,  
Like Temperance of so young a Prince I never read.   

Not that the Heathens Temper I compare,  
To those that have been truly sanctified,  
Of which job is to us a pattern rare;  
Who least his eyes should draw his heart aside,  
Did covenant they on no Maid should glide:  
How infinite are watchings, fastings, cold,  
Which to subdue the flesh Paul did abide,  
But above all th'examples I have told,  
The Locust-eater and's Disciples lives behold.   

And though whilst that the Bridegroom pleased to stay,  
The children of Bride-chamber did not fast,  
Yet when from them he taken was away,  
Behold they then did pay for all was past,  
And oft did hunger, whip, and prison taste;  
No Poet's quill ere able was to feign,  
Like Temperance of pure Lamb most temprate chaste,  
Reviled, scoffed, scorned, scourged, slain;  
Yet opened not his mouth to scoff, or speak again.   

Oh shall the King of Angels and of Men,  
Abused by workmanship of his own hand,  
Endure such wrongs, and never turn again:  
Whose one word could have called th'whole heavenly Band,  
The Fury of these wretches to withstand;  
And shall the Lord of Life so meekly dye,  
For our intemperate affections; and  
Shall not we them all with him crucify,  
And fleshly members of our Body's mortify?   

But we like Foxes build a stately hall,  
And like the Birds in stately cedars nest,  
When He that did of nothing make them all,  
Had not a place to lay his head to rest;  
We see his glorious members here distressed,  
Want lodging, food, and raiment for the cold,  
Whilst we abound in meats, and fill our chest  
With change of raiment, and with store of gold,  
And in birds softest plumes, our loser limbs enfold.   

Alas how many hunting worlds gay shows,  
By base Intemperances' sweetened bait,  
And vile Ambition which down headlong throws,  
Are brought to ruin most infortunate;  
Oh grant that I may live in mean estate,  
And my freed soul with Contemplation please;  
My clothing warm, my diet temperate,  
Freed from all tempests of world's raging seas,  
Which toss poor sailing souls, in dangerous disease.   

Most happy who with little is content,  
That though he want, yet never doth complain;  
Ne wisheth more his sorrow to augment,  
Knowing that he by heaping wealth doth gain,  
Nothing but care, vexation, and pain:  
What more than daily bread here do I need?  
What need of foreign cates or feathers vain?  
Let fields my food; my flock my clothing breed,  
No other would I wear, no other would I feed.   

In vain do foolish men the Heavens accuse  
Of sad misfortunes, pains, and injuries,  
Which do (if we knew truly them to use)  
To every man what's fittest for him size,  
That's not the best estate which most we prise,  
Nor that the worst, which most men seek to shun,  
Each as he list his fortunes may devose,  
Which wishes, no man happiness hath won,  
Such wishers cease to live, before their life begun.   

It is man's mind that maketh good or ill,  
Wretched or happy, sad, glad, rich or poor,  
He hath abundantly all things at will,  
That having little, yet desires no more,  
When he that's drowned in wealth, & swims in store,  
Doth live in want to satisfy desire,  
Which never hath enough, fond fools therefore,  
Are they that feed Lusts and Ambition's fire,  
Which like base Avarice, doth more and more require.   

When first I saw the glory of the Great,  
I then them only happy men did hold,  
For sumptuous houses, lodging, raiment, meat,  
Honour, Attendance, jewels, Silver, Gold,  
But when the cares and dangers I behold,  
Of those whom Fortune doth so high advance,  
How to dissembling slattery some are sold;  
Lust, Fullness, Idleness, Intemperance;  
My life I happy deem, in quiet lowly chance.   

Thus of late folly's, I though late complain,  
And that sweet Peace, which doth not there appear,  
Now in mine homely Cell I entertain,  
Which by her want I learn to love more dear;  
Sweet holy quiet life! where meanest cheer  
To hungry stomocks, is a daily feast,  
Where thirst like Nectar, makes fresh cooling beer;  
Where in a cabin is more quiet rest,  
Than on Down Persian beds, with Gold and Feathers dressed.   

In this estate I no man do envy,  
Nor would envied be of any one;  
Great store of wealth, doth store of cares supply,  
That little that I have is still mine own,  
I reap with joy the crop, that I have sown,  
Without least care but only to attend it,  
The Lambs I wean, are daily greater grown:  
What have I but to praise him that doth send it?  
And with a cheerful heart unto the poor to lend it.   

But least corrupt my mind, or body grow  
with too much ease, or wanton Idleness;  
My mind I set my Maker's Will to know,  
His Wisdom, Power, Truth, and Holiness;  
I often ride or walk to weariness,  
The members of my body to subdue  
And Temper against Lust and Laciviousnesse,  
Thus by sweet contemplation, oft I view,  
Such high transcendent things, as yet I never knew.   

Thus rapt with contemplation I find,  
That all these worlds-gay shows which men admire,  
Are but vain shadow's, to the joy's of mind  
Of those, that lead their lives in safe retire;  
Whose only happiness and hearts desire,  
Is here the talents God hath lent to spend  
Unto his glory, as he doth require,  
And using Temperately what he doth send;  
Thus grant that I may live, Thus grant that I may end.    

MEDITAT. FOUR of BOUNTY.  

NOw will I raise fair Alma's stately tower,  
On Temperance, her strong and soundest frame;  
And goodly deck Dame Bounty's dainty bower,  
Whereby all Princes gain immortal fame:  
Some call her Alma, some her Bounty name,  
The trusty Almoner of Love's Royal Court;  
Who bears the bag to give to blind and lame,  
And Suitors all that thither do resort  
Rewards most bounteously, and feeds in seemly sort.   

For on this heavenly Dame the eyes of all  
Look up, that of her liberality  
They may receive, and she again le's fall,  
Upon them needful things most plenteously,  
Her bounteous hand she opens willingly,  
With blessings every creature full to fill,  
To those that Knowledge seek, abundantly,  
She giveth Wisdom, Understanding, Skill,  
To know their Maker's Bounty, Majesty, and Will.   

Most glorious Alma! when as Temperance  
Controls the noble Plenty of her Hall,  
And with her Staff keeps out Intemperance,  
Which doth abuse her Grace and Bounty all;  
For where most Plenty is, there most do fall  
By want of Temperance to Lust and Sin,  
Till they be brought low as the Prodigal,  
For he that will true Praise by Bounty win,  
Must first of all at home with Temperance begin.   

For Temperance with watchful diligence,  
Are like two springs which waters do supply,  
To open handed free Beneficence,  
And her discerns from Prodigality,  
By Diligence we get sufficiency  
By Temperance, what we have gotten, spare  
To minister to Liberality,  
For these two, Lady-Bounty's handmaids are,  
And for her, just, and truly, store of wealth prepare.   

But they that live in sloth and foul excess,  
Though they may seem to be most liberal,  
Oppression, and Extortion merciless,  
Are Lakes, from whence their Bounty's streamed do fall,  
And thus they rob the poor, that therewithal  
They may themselves, rich friends, and children feast,  
Blaspheming their great Maker, Lord of all,  
And imitating basest savage beast,  
Which fawns upon the great, But doth devour the least.   

God of all Bounty, King most Liberal;  
Who to thy vassal Man at his Creation,  
Didst subject make, Fish, Fowle, Beasts, creatures all,  
And of thine handy works gav'st domination;  
Who by thy providence and ordination  
Him needful things not only dost provide,  
But for his health, delight and contentation,  
That he may plenty to the poor divide,  
My Muse to sing, heart, hands, to practise Bounty guide.   

Bounty, Beneficence, Benignity,  
In name though diverse, one in substance be,  
Benevolence and Liberality,  
Make actions, and affections agree,  
If as they are, in God you wish to see,  
They like his Goodness are unlimited,  
And as his Mercy, Love, and Grace are free,  
Which on his creatures are abundant shed,  
But by my shallow Muse their depth cannot be read.   

They are too high to reach, too deep to sound,  
For all the earth is filled therewithal:  
In heaven above God's Goodness doth abound,  
The Bounty of his Grace is over all;  
Of all the Meditations which call  
My mind, to holy joy and admiration,  
None lets more comfort than God's Bounty fall,  
Both for my being and my preservation,  
But most in that he shed his blood for my Salvation.   

Here could I wish my Muse might ever dwell,  
In viewing Gods great Goodness, Bounty, Love,  
Which three to th'holy Trinity I well  
May here ascribe; For Goodness first doth move  
The Father, to beget Eternal Love,  
From Love and Goodness, Bounty doth proceed:  
Yet all these three, as one in God do prove,  
In substance one, although distinguished  
In working! But this height my reach doth far exceed.   

And therefore ravished now with contemplation,  
Beyond the compass of my feeble eye,  
My soul amazed falls down to adoration  
Of this mysterious holy Trinity,  
And from divine come to benignity:  
And bounty which should be in men below,  
A habit we of liberality;  
Her call and good affection we should show  
In thought, heart, word, and deed, to every one we know.   

And must from goodness and true love proceed,  
The only cause of true benignity;  
Wherefore, except these be in us indeed,  
Our bounty is but prodigality:  
Or some like froth of superfluity.  
The crumbs and leave of Intemperance,  
Which oft are dealt out with an evil eye,  
More for vain credit, or base circumstance,  
Then for goodwill, or care God's glory to advance.   

For every act hath then her true effect,  
Which from true ground right aimeth at her end,  
As when both love and goodness doth direct  
What bounty truly gets, aright to spend:  
Lo thus doth heavenly grace and Bounty send  
Her blessings temporal alike to all;  
But doth for greater benefits intent,  
To those that on God's name aright do call,  
And in this heavenly sort, ought we be liberal.   

Oh! than th' effects of bounty glorious are,  
When Providence with true Frugality,  
Do seek by justice to provide and spare  
Fit sustenance for liberality;  
Behold that heavenly bounteous Majesty,  
Sends rain and fruitful seasons whereby store  
Of Blessings, th'earth may to his hand supply,  
And many hidden treasures up doth store  
For to exalt the rich, and to refresh the poor.   

Then humane bounty like her Maker's is,  
When as she labours to do good to all;  
But most of all to bring poor souls to bliss,  
And fill their hearts with food spiritual:  
Oh Grace Divine? Bounty Angelical;  
With spiritual loaves in Wilderness to feed  
God's Saints, when spiritual hunger them doth gall;  
The ignorant which pine with inward need,  
Divine sweet comforts to their fainting souls to read.   

True Bounty's known, best by her company,  
For she in Truth and Mercy takes delight;  
Faith, justice, Temperance, Humility,  
And is withal Love's graces richly dight,  
Herein appears her glorious heavenly Spirit:  
Showing that she of seed divine is borne,  
Of Love and Goodness, not of Vain delight,  
Or Fame and Praise of men, when she doth scorn  
To seek feigned bounteous shows, her goodness to adorn.   

For thus th' ambitious man is bountiful,  
Thus belly-gods in plenty take delight,  
Deceit with gifts his neighbour seeks to gull,  
The covetous bribe large to conquer right;  
From such false Bounty, Truth is banished quite,  
Humility, Faith, Knowledge, Temperance,  
Nor any of Love's Graces in her sight,  
May suffered be their ensigns to advance,  
There dwells Contention, Pride, Oppression, Ignorance.   

As daughters of the horseleech, still do cry,  
Give give: as Grave and Hell be never full,  
So nought the covetous eye can satisfy,  
But he that's liberal and bountiful  
Is like full clouds, which do most plentiful  
Water the earth, and pour down store of rain,  
Yet are not empty; for the merciful  
And liberal shall greater plenty gain,  
And he that scattereth shall find increase again.   

That hand is never empty of reward,  
Where as goodwill the heart's chest filleth full,  
And bounty never is so much afeared,  
Causeless to give, As not be bountiful  
Where need requires; His face is beautiful  
Where sweet Goodwill both heart and looks have Joined;  
But th'envious and malicious do pull,  
On wrinkles: And a man shall ever find,  
The beauty of the face to alter with the mind.   

Bounty is like unto the glorious Sun,  
Which as a Bridegroom doth from chamber glide,  
And as a Giant joy's his course to run  
From East to West, most swiftly he doth ride,  
Nothing from's fertile heat itself can hide;  
He doth not look that one him up should call:  
So bounty deals her Graces far and wide,  
And Blessings without ask sends to all;  
Expecting not vain praise, where she lets graces fall.   

As some fair glorious garment, which we wear  
Upon our shoulders, reaching to the ground,  
Covers all spots, and Naeves that on us are:  
So where this noble bounty doth abound,  
It covereth all faults that can be found,  
For as Love covers, so doth Bounty hide  
A multitude of sins, and doth confound,  
By her bright Beams, Detraction, Envy, Pride;  
Alas these are to weak where Bounty's on our side.   

she's like unto the Lamp of glorious day,  
Which doth divide the darkness from the light,  
For whereas Bounty doth her beams display,  
Behold bright day: without them there is night;  
The King that by his bounty doth invite,  
His subjects hearts to Love and Honour due,  
Sleeps more secure, than he that doth by might  
And fear, strong forts and walled towns subdue,  
And for his guard's encompassed with armed crew.   

Bounty and Benefits are e'en the Bands,  
Of Concord, and as fire doth quickly dye,  
That is not fostered with coals or brands;  
So dies true Love with men: Except supply  
Be made by gifts and liberality:  
Who doth the wand'ring soul direct aright,  
Though with him he doth deal most bounteously;  
Yet doth he but his fellow's candle light,  
And to another gives, yet loseth self no light.   

True bounty seeks high God to imitate,  
Who to the most unthankful is most free,  
Sol doth his light to thieves participate  
And without tempests, Pirates sail on Sea,  
The Heavens of all good things the Authors be,  
Fair fortunes to ungrateful fools do send,  
As only seeking to do good: so we  
(Though oft in vain our bounty we do spend)  
To the unthankful must, as to the thankful lend.   

God's bounty's like to incense and perfume,  
Cast on an heart inflamed with holy zeal,  
Which praises up, like clouds of smoke doth sum,  
And sweetest odours round about doth deal:  
Man's Bounty is like widows cruse or meal,  
Which spent upon the Prophet grows to more,  
Like Surgeon's skill, which as he more doth heal,  
Doth grow more cunning than he was before,  
The diligent and bounteous hand want never store.)   

As many fruits do fair increase and grow,  
Not so much by the nature of the ground,  
As by the bounty, which from Heaven doth flow,  
And temperate air that is about them found,  
So all good Arts in noblest wits abound,  
More by some Prince's liberality,  
And high regard they have of Muse's sound,  
Than their own nature, strength, and industry,  
Best friends to Arts are Bounty and Humanity.   

Should I but here recount the names of all,  
Whom bountiful in holy Writ I find,  
I of your patience should be prodigal,  
And my short time for this discourse assigned,  
Let me their names up in a bundle bind;  
Which if you please to open as sweetly smell,  
As Camphires' bush: my Muse is now inclined,  
Of some profane examples here to tell,  
Which seem in noble Bounty others to excel.   

Than treasure Cyrus more his friends esteemed,  
Whereof he multitudes by bounty won:  
And Alexander greatest glory deemed,  
By bounty never to be overcome;  
A King of Egypt thought it better done,  
His subjects coffers, than his own to fill:  
When as Alphonsus heard Titus Vespasians son,  
Accounted that day lost, when for goodwill  
He had given nought; said, I ne'er spent a day so ill.   

Behold! these five examples live in one,  
The bounteous Monarch, that our Sceptre sways,  
Esteems his friends 'boue gold, or precious stone,  
And overcomes e'en all that him obay's,  
By sovereign Bounty, to's immortal praise,  
No King so fills his subjects chests with gold,  
His bounteous deeds in number pass his day's:  
Ah! how then dare my niggard rhymes be bold,  
The sacred bounty of my Sovereign to unfold.   

Who hoards not up his wealth in Cave or Tower,  
Nor into prisons dark condemns his gold:  
But as on him from heaven all Blessings shower,  
So are his to us Subjects manifold:  
As from thick clouds, we numberless behold,  
Large streams of fruitful rain on earth to fall:  
So is his largesse to his servants told,  
Who entering poor, return rich from his hall,  
Like Tagus' golden sands, his hands are liberal.   

Vouchsafe, oh bounteous Sovereign! hear thy thrall,  
After thy cloud, a subjects dropped to sing;  
Whom thou didst to deserved honour call,  
And was in name and bounty as a King:  
Who in thy bounteous steps thee following,  
Did from obscurity my Fortunes raise,  
Without desert or my least offering,  
He now in Heaven his bounteous King doth praise,  
As he with bounty honoured him here all his day's.   

And let us all his bounteous praises sing,  
Whose bounty us from Hell and Death doth raise,  
Our blessed Saviour, Prophet, Priest, and King,  
Who here in bounteous deeds spent all his day's;  
Casting out Devils, saving souls always,  
Healing the sick, giving the blind their sight;  
Mourns for our sins, for enemies he prays;  
Comforts the rich, and feeds the hungry wight,  
And still in doing good, doth set his whole delight.   

How could malicious heart of envious man,  
Consent to murder such a bounteous King?  
Scourge, scorn, deride, despite him what they can,  
Still in his bounteous deeds persevering;  
Yea when unto the Cross they him do bring,  
Father they know not what they do, he cries;  
And when his body hangs their torturing,  
He to the Thief not Paradise denies;  
Thus doing good he lives: Thus doing good he dies.   

What doth the Lord of Life eternal dye?  
Which unto us eternal life doth give;  
See his large bounty, and benignity?  
He gave his life for us, that we might live,  
What heart of stone doth not here melt, or rive  
But with his Life, his Bounty doth not end,  
He by his Will, and Testament doth give  
Us Heaven, yea more the Comforter doth send,  
With millions of Angels, on us to attend.   

Who can of this his Saviour's Bounty taste?  
And to his members not be bountiful,  
If thou want wealth, and coin give what thou hast,  
And let our hearts be always merciful,  
And like the fertile ground yield plentiful  
Increase, of all the seeds which thereon grow,  
'Tis Bounty that doth fill our garner's full,  
He sparing reaps, that sparingly doth sow,  
True Bounty's noble hand no want did ever know.   

But ah too many covetous of Praise  
And Glory do by fraud and rapine spoil;  
Other's, that they thereby there names may raise,  
And some goods gotten by much care and toil,  
Spend on their pleasures, and thereby beguile,  
Their poor and needy neighbour of his right,  
Drinking and surfeiting in ease the while,  
And spending frankly on some base delight,  
Like Brutes are bountiful to their own appetite.   

Some only by their Bounty seek for fame,  
And these are only to Ambition free,  
Some Patrons now aday's such Shepherd's name,  
To feed the Flock, as lose and Idle Bee,  
Wealth unto wealth to add they all agree:  
Mother man respects the needy and the poor,  
The empty vessels, empty still we see;  
They that are full, to them is added more,  
Dry hills want water, when the valley's swim with store.   

As Knights which of the noble Order are  
Of Garter, that they better may be known,  
A golden George about their neck they wear,  
Nor do the same at any time lay down,  
Whereby their nobleness should be unknown:  
So Nobles always wear Benignity,  
Whereby whose Sons you are ye may be shown,  
For nothing proves you Sons of the most High,  
More than your Bounty and true Liberality.   

But of false bounty you do vainly boast,  
Delighting in vain pastime, oil and Wine,  
And gluttons feed for glory to your cost,  
Whilst at your doors, the poor may starve and pine,  
You welcome such as you invite to dine;  
But scarce afford the poor scraps, at your gate;  
Which show that all your bounty is to join  
Credit and Glory to your great estate,  
And but for Crows and Kites, or Daw's do lay a Bait.   

You for a million at a cast will play,  
And hazard all your fortunes at a game,  
And grudge not for one dainty bit to pay  
A thousand, and then glory in the same,  
With gold you trick and trim up some loose Dame,  
The sink that sucks up all your Liberality,  
Thus lavish you to your eternal shame,  
All that your Fathers got by their Frugality,  
And left to you to spend in bounteous hospitality.   

Brave Alexander's deeds for ay commends  
His wondrous confidence, and bounty rare;  
Who dealing out amongst his faithful friends,  
Lands, houses, towns, he gold and all did share,  
When one besought him wisely to forbear,  
For what, said he, alas! is left the King?  
New hopes of gaming more, said he, there are,  
Thus on his fate and fortunes venturing  
The Heaven's propitious seemed, to him, in every thing.   

But ah! poor Prince! thy hopes are all but vain,  
As were the Benefits thou didst expose;  
But we are certain of eternal gain,  
If bounteously God's blessings we dispose:  
Ah! what is it if worldly things we lose!  
And thereby gain us an Eternal Crown,  
Which heavenly Bounty layeth up for those,  
That their own glory willingly lay down,  
And what they reap by Bounty bounteously have sown.   

Such all within most gloriously shall shine,  
Their vestments shall be of twined Gold;  
They shall of Hony taste, and spiced Wine;  
And all the Bridegroom's fruits both new and old,  
He gently will such in his arms enfold;  
And satisfy their sense with pleasing smell,  
No ear hath heard, no tongue hath ever told,  
The joy and Bounty that with him do dwell,  
But more of these, where next of heavenly joy I tell.    

MEDITAT. V. Of Spiritual and Heavenly JOY.  

HOw should a heart oppressed with worldly cares,  
Of Spiritual inward joy now rightly sing;  
Since none her knows, but who her image bears,  
And feels the Spirits inward witnessing:  
All sacred stuff I to this building bring  
No help, but he that Abba Father cries,  
Can teach my Muse to touch this golden string,  
I therefore here forbear profane supplies,  
My Spirit wholly on the holy Spirit relies.   

Well, said the King, All worldly things are vain,  
And travel which beneath the Sun he found  
Compared to left drop or minutes gain,  
Which Spiritual joy did to his heart propound;  
No reach of Wizard's skill, no wit profound,  
Is able this true joy to comprehend,  
This Music wholly to the Saints doth sound,  
The inward man can only apprehend,  
Sweet lively Spiritual joy, which never shall have end.   

No Muse's darling ever yet did dream,  
Of this sweet wind, which where it lists doth blow;  
This only is sweet Israel's Singers theme,  
Which he by heavenly influence did show;  
And then most, when the outward man brought low,  
By pain of body, or by grief of mind,  
Did from his pen divinest comforts flow,  
Most heavenly joy's, which he was wont to find,  
To grow more strong within, as he without declind.   

Oh joy of joy's? unspeakable delight,  
e'en when our souls the powers of hell do shake,  
And us with justice and due vengeance fright,  
When as our guilty conscience is awake,  
That all with terror tremble, horror quake;  
That then our gentle beam of heavenly Grace,  
Not only shall from us this horror take,  
But in Love's arms us in an instant place,  
They only know this joy, that have been in this case.   

If ever I received strength and skill  
From Heaven, to scale the hill of contemplation,  
I now do hope God's gracious Spirit will,  
Me fill with joy for his sweet meditation;  
Oh, blessed Spirit! who by sweet inspiration,  
Directest every holy Prophet's quill,  
Enlighten mine, by heaven's illumination,  
That most divine sweet joy's it may distil  
Into the Readers heart, and Mine with comfort fill.   

No tongue could ever tell, no heart conceive,  
Therefore no Art is able to define  
What is the inward joy which we receive,  
By peace of conscience, and Grace divine:  
But sure it is, that special mark or sign,  
Which on our souls the holy Spirit of Grace  
Most gently doth imprint, and lively line,  
Whereby we do behold Gods cheerful face,  
And spiritually feel, our Bridegroom's sweet embrace.   

There is a natural and carnal joy,  
Besides this inward joy spiritual,  
By one we common blessings here enjoy,  
By th'other we in Sin and error fall;  
Those be partakers of joy natural,  
That health of body have, and worldly store,  
The carnal joy we sinful pleasures call,  
Excess of meat, and wine, Lips of a whore,  
And all man's vain delights against rule of heaven lore.   

These joy's, which with false pleasures us deceive,  
Are not of kin to joy spiritual;  
For that they always do our hearts bereave  
Of inward joys pure food Angelical;  
Gods goodness is th'efficient cause of all,  
And though each person in the Trinity,  
May seem to have a working several,  
Yet all in one, and one in all agree,  
With joy here to begin man's true felicity.   

There many causes are material,  
Why we this inward joy in us should have▪  
Gods freest grace, which doth most surely call,  
All those that he elected hath to save;  
The Peace of conscience, which joy us gave,  
And eke the joy of our Sanctification:  
Whereby e'en heaven's inheritance we crave,  
And certainly expect glorification,  
And are invited guests to heaven's participation.   

As are God's gifts and graces infinite,  
So causes are of joy spiritual;  
It fills my soul with infinite delight,  
When all his benefits to mind I call;  
But none like this that's Son should save us all;  
By that great secret of his Incarnation,  
Which made the Babe into joy's passion fall,  
At blessed Mothers heavenly Salutation,  
And made blind Simeons' soul, rejoice in his Salvation.   

This made the Mother of the Babe to sing,  
And her sweet little Lord to magnify  
Her Saviour, which she in her arms did bring;  
This made in heavenly Host such melody,  
When news was brought of his Nativity;  
Oh joy of joy's! to you is borne this day  
A Saviour, God from all eternity:  
This made the Wisemen from the East to stray,  
And offer to him gifts, that in a cradle lay.   

This made the holy King, prophetical,  
Though many pleasant Lays to Harp he sing,  
Strain none so high, and so pathetical,  
As those of his Son, Saviour, Lord, and King:  
Oh than each stroke, he strikes, to heaven doth ring.  
His heart rejoiceth; and his tongue is glad,  
Such joy doth hope of resurrection bring,  
That though his flesh be with corruption clad,  
His heart shall never faint, nor soul be ever sad.   

We for this hope, it count exceeding joy  
When we do fall, on many sore temptations,  
And when afflictions most abound, we joy  
In Trials, Sufferings, and Tribulations:  
The Angels in their holy habitations,  
At our conversions wondrous joy receive,  
What passing joy will be and delectations,  
When all the members to their head shall cleave,  
And for short Sorrows, endless recompense receive.   

My Muse herself e'en out of breath now fly's,  
Raised up so high by joy Spiritual;  
Yet by joy's objects, she must higher rise,  
To Father, Son, the Holy Ghost, and all:  
What greater joy, than on the Father call;  
And how did Abraham rejoice to see?  
The day of his Redeemers nuptial;  
Ah what more joy unspeakable can be?  
Than feel the holy Spirit of Grace to dwell in thee.   

Oh happy Host, such guests to entertain,  
With peace of conscience, their continual feast,  
Open you everlasting doors again,  
Open, The King stands knocking ready pressed;  
The King of Glory, to come in and rest:  
Down from the figtree speedily then come,  
And entertain thy Saviour in thy breast,  
To day Salvation is to thee come home,  
With Faith, Hope, Love, and Truth perfume thou every rom.   

For without these, true joy will never stay,  
With her must all the heavenly Graces bide,  
Long-suffering, Mercy, Peace, desire to Pray,  
God these hath joined, no man may them divide,  
False joy's without these into us may slide,  
As stony ground, which did receive the seed;  
Did flourish fair, and Branch on every side;  
But this did Faith, but temporary breed,  
And we this but a momentany joy aread.   

There are beside this friendly seeming joy,  
Other that are professed enemy's;  
As those which worldly happiness enjoy,  
And live in pleasures, ease, and jollity's:  
Against these th'author of true joy replies,  
Woe unto you that laugh, for you shall wail,  
Lament and howl for your iniquity's,  
When judgement comes, and all men's hearts shall fail,  
What then shall all your worldly pleasures you avail.   

Another joy against true joy I find,  
When in true cause of joy we so delight,  
That we omit from Lusts, to cleanse our mind,  
And valiantly against base affections fight,  
Ah! how can heavenly true joy take delight,  
Amongst our gross corruptions here to dwell,  
Sure this Rejoicing is not good and right,  
A little Leven makes the whole lump smell,  
Our boastings vaine: This water's not from living well.   

There is a counterfeit, and feigned delight,  
Showed in the face, but comes not from the heart,  
Whom I may call, A merry Hypocrite,  
Others rejoice so in their own desert,  
In their redemption they will bear a part:  
These are the men, whom works must justify,  
Alas! poor wretch! remember what thou art,  
And whence thou hast received thy supply,  
And thou shalt soon from this thy proud rejoicing sly.   

Proud flesh and blood! that dares of merits boast,  
When in thy Maker's presence thou dost stand,  
And hopest to regain what Adam lost,  
By thine inherent justice: thou dost band,  
Directly against thy Maker's glory; and,  
Seekest to rejoice in justice of thine own,  
Presume not 'boue thy strength to understand,  
But merry be and glad in God alone,  
Who is all Worthiness, but in thyself is none.   

As those which vain applause of men regard,  
And at their doing alms a trumpet blow;  
Gain only praise of men, for their reward,  
But God no such good-workes will ever know;  
So those in whom these boasting merits flow,  
And in their meritorious works delight,  
God never them doth this sound comfort show,  
They may awhile seem goodly in man's sight,  
But never feel true inward joy and sound delight.   

As those which only see the Stars and Moon,  
But never saw fair Phoebus' glorious light,  
Believe no clearer lights have ever shone;  
Than those fair Lamps, which do adorn the night;  
So those that never knew this true delight,  
Those heavenly joy's to holy Saints confined,  
Think there most joy, where flesh doth most delight:  
But taste they once sweet inward joy of mind,  
In all these worldly joy's they no content can find.   

This heavenly joy by no similitude,  
In Heaven or Earth can truly be expressed,  
Yet is she felt; as oft in simple rude,  
As in the most profound, deep learned breast;  
None know her, till they be of her possessed.  
For as we feel the wind when it doth blow,  
But whence it comes, or where it means to rest,  
No wit of man ere able was to show;  
So many feel these joy's, but know not whence they flow.   

As in the Incarnations mysteries,  
The blessed Virgin over-shadowed  
By th' Holy Ghost, and power of the most High;  
Perceived her fruitful womb replenished,  
But knew not whence, till th' Angel it aread;  
So we this Babe of joy spiritual,  
Oft feel in us most lively quickened;  
But know not how, nor whence the same doth fall,  
Till that same Spirit of Truth, to us revealeth all.   

And as no creature able is of man,  
The Spirit to discern, but man alone,  
So of this Spiritual joy, no spirit can  
Conclude, but this sweet spiritual holy One:  
Some would it liken to the glorious Sun,  
Which by his lively beams doth Life inspire;  
Where they an object fit to light upon,  
But I forbear too nicely to inquire,  
And rather in mine heart, to feel her beams desire.   

Oh Sun of Light! Bright Glory of thy Sire,  
Who when thou left'st the earth, thy Spirit didst send,  
Into our hearts sweet comforts to inspire,  
And with us to abide till world's last end:  
Some good examples to my Muse commend,  
Of holy men, which took so much delight  
In heavenly joy's, they holy them intent,  
And banish all vain worldly pleasures quite  
Shining like glorious Lamps in world's obscurest night.   

This inward heat, this holy heavenly fire,  
Most what concealed under ashes ly's  
Which one, till into flames they do respire,  
At home more easy, than aborad descries:  
Because itself within best testifies,  
In Abraham appeared this holy flame;  
When as he saw his Saviour with his eyes  
Who of his blessed seed long after came,  
For Abram saw Christ's day and joyed in the same.   

Up Miriam up, thou merrily canst sing;  
Now through the Red Sea thou art safely passed,  
Hereby our Baptism then prefiguring,  
That when Repentance us with tears hath washed,  
With joy we Egypt's Bondage of should cast:  
But never did more joyful music sound,  
Than David's: when he of this joy did taste,  
Restore me to those wont joy's I found,  
And ever let thy holy Spirit in me abound.   

Oh blessed Bridegroom of the fairest Bride,  
How often when she seeketh thee by night,  
Dost thou thy joyful presence from her hide?  
That wanting, she in thee may more delight:  
How oft again, when thou dost her invite?  
Rise my beloved, and open to me the door,  
Such is her niceness, and her sluggish spirit;  
She will not rise to let thee in, before  
Thou thence art gone; And than thy loss she doth deplore.   

These are the apples, odours, nuts, and wine,  
Which comfort her, when she is sick of Love;  
These Christ's embraces that do her entwine,  
The kisses which he gives his Turtle Dove:  
Milk, spice, pomegranates, which she so doth love,  
All these are inward joy's the Bride hath here,  
Whereof she with the Bridegroom's friends doth prove;  
And eats and drinks with joy and merry cheer,  
Yea drinks abundantly with her beloved dear.   

This was the joy, that him was set before,  
That did endure the Cross, despise the shame,  
And Lord of all, became low, naked, poor,  
Enduring death us to excuse from blame!  
His Martyrs and Apostles in the same  
Sufferings and crosses him have followed;  
And trod the Winepress as their order came,  
Where some in scorching flames more joy's have red,  
Than wearied Limbs could find, in softest downy bed.   

This 'twas the Kingly Prophet so admired,  
When loathing all world's pomp and glory vain,  
He this one only thing of God desired,  
For ever in his Temple to remain,  
To view the Beauty of that heavenly train:  
This made him leave his purple Crown and Throne,  
And in a linen Ephod dance amain:  
For this would Constantine be rather one  
Of Christ his members, than the Empire's head alone.   

But why seek I for witnesses without,  
Since 'tis the Spirit within that testify's,  
Our Soul that without wavering or doubt,  
With Peace of Conscience, Abba Father Cry's:  
Unto whose Soul this Spirit eke replies,  
Be glad and joyful, I am thy salvation  
Be not afraid-My Grace shall thee suffice  
To conquer Hell; And to resist temptation,  
And yield the soundest joy in greatest tribulation.   

I will make glad thy soul, delight thine heart,  
And with a cheerful countenance will smile,  
For I am thine and mine again thou art;  
And though afflictions here thee square and file,  
No power in Earth or Hell shall thee beguile  
Of those sweet joy's, which are for thee prepared:  
Oh tarry thou my leisure but a while,  
And thy petitions all, I will regard,  
Delight in me, I am thy hope, and just reward.   

Oh! who can hear these joyous invitations,  
These blessed promises, and yet complain,  
That he's afraid of cross, or tribulations:  
Oh! never let these worldly pleasures vain,  
Make me so great a loser for their gain;  
And let me here all worldly griefs endure,  
Lord only free me from eternal pain,  
This inward joy shall ever me assure,  
And on thy merits I in all, will rest secure.   

Who would not rather covet there to dwell,  
Where fullness is of joy for evermore,  
Than in false vain delights, which leads to Hell  
Voluptuous Diet, flatt'rings of a Whore;  
I rather had with David keep a door  
Where inward joy, may in my soul abound;  
Than swim in pleasures and preferments store,  
In Prince's Courts, where vain delights are found,  
Which like fair flowers fade, and quickly fall to ground.   

But I confess, this proverb true I find,  
That where God's Church is raising, there to build,  
His Chapel is the Devil most inclined,  
And where best seed is sown in Ground well tilled,  
He with most tares and weeds it always filled:  
Vain pleasures, are his tares, true joy's our wheat,  
Till harvest both together grow in field,  
Then will the Lord of Harvest surely beat,  
The cockle from pure corn, at his own board to eat.   

Fountain of joy! oh set thy whole delight;  
Into thy Laws and Statutes to inquire;  
To meditate thereon both day and night,  
My soul than Gold doth more these joy's desire.  
Let others honour, wealth, and wine admire;  
Lift, Lord, on me thy loving countenance,  
Thy loving favour, shall my Soul raise higher,  
Than Princes highest favours can advance,  
To heavenly spiritual wealth, not subject unto chance.   

In holy Writ, I many places find,  
From whence do flow these joy's spiritual,  
But no where faster, than within my mind,  
Oh Lord! Thou knowst; not I; from whence they fall:  
God of all Peace, and joy perpetual;  
Let not my joy A temporary prove,  
But with her in mine heart thy Graces all  
Infuse, Faith, Mercy, Patience, Peace, and Love;  
To pass by things below, and seek for things above.   

Of endless joy how should I make an end?  
My Muse is never weary of delight;  
Since I this Meditation did intend,  
I never scarce could sleep by day or night.  
So doth the pleasing matter me invite;  
So full of rhymes, and so the numbers run:  
That I in shorter time have finished quite,  
This taste of joy, than I have erst begun  
Some other Graces: But my hourglass hath done.    
FINIS.   

THE BRIDE'S ORNAMENTS, Viz. Five Divine and Moral MEDITATIONS.  
1. Prudence. 2. Obedience. 3. Meekness. 4. God's Word. 5. Prayer.  JOB 28. 28. The fear of the Lord is wisdom, and to depart from evil is understanding. 
LONDON, Printed by WILLIAM STANSBY. 1625.   

TO MY MOST TRUE, WORTHY, LOVING FRIEND, AND dearest Brother, RICHARD CRAKANTHORPE, Doctor of Divinity, and one of his Majesty's Chaplains in Ordinary.  

NOt Nature, Order, or Affinity  
Can Friendships sacred knot so surely tie  
As choice: For ever there we find the ground  
Of Love and Friendship most entirely sound;  
As their Desires are like, so one there end,  
Which is to be, and have a faithful friend.   

ay, that unto mine own defects am conscious,  
Of such an honour durst not be ambitious,  
Tell thou wert pleased to call me Friend and Brother,  
(I know not that thou deign'st it any other)  
Wherefore whilst Time Life to my Lines shall give,  
Our Friendships' memory in them shall live,  
Who of true Friendship know no other end,  
Than here to have and be   
A faithful Friend.  
ROBERT AYLET.   

THE BRIDE'S ORNAMENTS.  

MEDITAT. I. Of WISDOM and PRUDENCE.  

THE first degree to Wisdom is the miss  
Of Folly: For as Darkness the privation  
Is of Lights Being, But no Being is,  
So Folly is of wise illumination:  
And as in Chaos rude, at first Creation  
There was all Darkness by the want of Light:  
So in all men before their renovation  
Are Folly's mists, and errors blackest night,  
Till there the Spirit move, which all things doth inlight.   

The Poets which did wondrously transcend  
In making Mysteries by Fictions plain,  
All other Graces as divine commend,  
But Wisdom they to be a Goddess fain;  
Minerva, who proceedeth from the brain  
Of jupiter; whom they the Mistress hight  
Of all the Graces and the Muse's train,  
To whom she oft descends for her delight,  
Wearied with toil of Government, and Martial fight.   

Thus her of War, Peace, Polity, and Arts  
They Goddess make, as if they should her call  
The Wisdom God the Father thus imparts  
Unto the Son, to make rule, order all;  
With God the Father Coessential,  
As all his Attributes, Power, Truth, and Love,  
For on the Persons Consubstantial  
No accident can fall or thence remove,  
This Souls faint eye conceives of Wisdom from above.   

Which is unto my minds obscured eye,  
As to my Body's Sun in Firmament,  
The farther off, the easier to descry,  
For nearness breedeth but astonishment,  
Oh glorious Wisdom, Sun most orient;  
Into my soul, with Folly clouded shine,  
Some clearer beams of wisdom excellent,  
The whilst I sing these radiant rays of thine,  
Which make a mortal wight seem gloriously divine.   

What and how great is wisdom's heavenly skill,  
No heart of man is able to conceive,  
Much less express by any tongue or quill,  
For none but Wisdom, wisdom can perceive:  
The cause unknown of nothing she doth leave,  
A Numen of such wondrous excellence,  
She doth no good but from herself receive;  
Being her own end, aim, and recompense,  
No good in Heaven or Earth, but flows from Sapience.   

And therefore called the proper Good of jove,  
Which though to Men and Angels he dispense  
In wise proportion, yet from him doth move  
All wisdom, and to him hath reference;  
For as in Power so in Sapience,  
He doth all other heavenly Powers transcend,  
For Wisdom Ground is of Omnipotence,  
And as we Mortals on her hests attend,  
So nearer io divine perfection we ascend.   

Such is true Wisdom's glory, that e'en they  
Seem much to doubt, who do her most admire;  
Whither we properly possess her may,  
And by continual industry acquire;  
Or that the Heavens her secretly inspire:  
In brief, no price or gold can her obtain,  
She seems to be some flame of heavenly fire  
In Adam breathed, before by Folly slain,  
Which therefore we must seek to have from heaven again.   

Schools her to be the knowledge do define  
Of things divine, and humane, which in breast  
Of Mortals, if it pure and lively shine  
Makes him, like God, unmoved and stable rest:  
For as no chance of Fortune can molest  
The Power divine, So wisemen do enjoy  
Within themselves, by Wisdom, Peace, and Rest;  
Nothing that is without can them annoy,  
All seeming Miseries give place to Inward joy..   

Yet falls this Wisdom short of that Divine,  
Which Adam did possess before his fall:  
And as Sunbeams through clouds, so doth she shine  
Through our corruptions, scarce discerned at all,  
We common and more exquisite her call;  
That see things that are past, and things in sight,  
This things which in succeeding times may fall;  
We her, as she guides men's affairs aright,  
Call Prudence; Wisdom, as she doth in God delight.   

Wisdom and Prudence in an humane breast,  
Are one same Grace, though diverse by relation:  
Wisdom refers to God, Prudence doth rest,  
Most in a wise and upright moderation  
Of States and Men by Law's administration:  
By Wisdom here we see the life of Grace,  
By Prudence in a civil conversation;  
Prudence amongst the heathen had a place,  
True heavenly wisdom only Gods elect doth grace.   

This heavenly wisdom, whereby we converse  
With God, and take delight in holy things,  
Doth our affections all, and wills perverse  
Set right, and near divine perfection brings;  
She first, like good Musician, tunes the strings,  
And then sends forth a most harmonious sound:  
First lifts our Souls to heaven upon her wings,  
Next orders all by Prudence on the ground,  
Like Leach who ere he others cure, himself makes sound.   

She first within in order sets the heart,  
Next is for outward things most provident,  
No Grace more Good to Mortals doth impart,  
Nor none more evils here on earth prevent,  
She shows her inward Grace's God hath lent;  
By outward manners, habit, grave attire;  
Few words, pure hands, in all such compliment,  
Such gesture public, and in her retire,  
As all her for a heavenly pattern do admire.   

But most of all a wiseman strives to tame  
Both in himself, and others Sin and Lust:  
For he that Good from Ill discerns, doth blame  
False varnished shows defiled with inward rust:  
He Pride, Pomp, Boasting, Scorn away doth thrust,  
And from a pure Serenity of mind  
A pattern draw's of Life most quiet, just;  
Far from opinions false, and error blind,  
And guides at stern, as in a calm, so in the wind.   

In War most valiant, in judgement just;  
Ill, unto Good, things hurtful, turns to sound;  
Will's still the same, because the best, no Gust  
Of fate oppresleth him, if Wealth abound,  
Or Poverty, he still the same is found;  
And doth with pleasing Constancy endure  
All Fortune's changes, which do others wound;  
True, innocent, sincere, just, simple, pure,  
And as his Life, his Death is joyful, sweet, secure.   

The Poets fain that in the golden Age,  
Grave, wise, experienced men bore all the sway,  
And the unexpert, young, not yet grown sage,  
To learn Law's rules first practised to obey,  
For Prudence all by level orders ay,  
And by a long Experience doth discern,  
How she provide for future changes may,  
By precept, and example much we learn;  
But that imprints most deep, which doth ourselves concern.   

Examples, Precepts, and Experience,  
Are ever ready at a Wiseman's hand,  
To teach him judgement, Counsel, Providence,  
Of which we always here in need do stand:  
By Counsel we the Grounds do understand  
Of things we ought to do, or leave undone:  
judgement our Wills and Senses doth command,  
What things we ought embrace, and what to shun,  
And Providence provides for things that are to come.   

I praise not here that cunning Polity,  
Which maketh of another's Folly, gain;  
This comes of Malice, Guile, and Subtlety,  
Which generous brave Prudence doth disdain:  
Such alway's evil counsel entertain,  
The Apes of Prudence, Reason's depravation,  
Whose minds (as hands grow hard by taking pain)  
Are by base plots, and subtle magination  
Enured unto others wrongs and supplantation.   

As Quickness wit, As Soundness memory,  
Grave looks the Face, and Plainness speech commend;  
So judgements praise is in Equality,  
Without least doing wrong to Foe or Friend:  
And as salt savours, so doth judgement bend  
e'en all our words, thoughts, works, to good or ill;  
Without this judgement, Prudence doth intend  
Nothing; for she is Mistress of her Will,  
Which she with all her power labours to fulfil.   

Counsel and judgement are the very eyes  
And Lamps here, to direct a prudent mind;  
Which they who want, or foolishly misprise,  
Walk on in Folly, and in Error blind:  
We many ignorant vain Fools do find,  
So wise in their conceit and estimation;  
They think all wisdom in their breasts confined,  
These being bound by double obligation  
To Folly, there's no hope of any reformation.   

Prudence and Folly, in the Soul of man,  
Like Health and Sickness in his Body are;  
As Health the Body keeps, so. Prudence can  
The Soul deliver from the Devil's snare:  
And as Diseases here the thread doth share  
Of Body's Life; So Folly soon doth rend  
The Soul with pleasures vain, and worldly care:  
For as strong men within a Fort defend;  
So Prudent Thoughts our souls from Satan's fury shend.   

And as, among the noble senses five,  
The Sight doth all the rest in worth excel,  
Because all do their Light from her derive,  
And she all that offends them doth repel:  
So Prudence all the virtues doth precel;  
Because, by Light God sends her from above,  
She counsels all the Graces to do well;  
For without her no Grace aright can move  
Prudence of all the rest the Governor doth prove.   

Ulysses Prudence, Aiax Fortitude;  
Whilst they each other do accompany  
Win City's, conquer men, and monsters rude:  
But if they square for Gain or Dignity,  
And Aiax leaves Ulysses company,  
His valour turns to Folly or to rage:  
So men of greatest magnanimity,  
When they the Guidance leave of Prudence sage,  
Grow beastly, mad, or foolish in their later age.   

I may her liken to the Prince of Day,  
From whom all lesser Lamps do borrow Light;  
Who when he doth his glorious Beams display,  
The rest all seem to be extinguished quite:  
So when as heavenly Wisdom, wondrous bright,  
Herself amongst the Graces doth disclose,  
They all do seem to vanish in her sight,  
As all the Glory that they have arose (dispose.  
From those bright Beams, which wisdom doth on them   

As God the world, The Emperor his host,  
The Governor his Ship, the Sun the day,  
And as the Body's ruled by the Ghost,  
So doth fair Prudence all the virtue's sway:  
And as these, like good Guides, direct the way  
Unto their charge, to reach their proper end:  
So doth true wisdom, all that her obey  
To endless happiness and pleasure send;  
Most happy man who doth her holy hests attend.   

May his heart die like Nabals' churl and fool,  
Or like Achitophel end with a string;  
Laugh in the stocks, cleave to the scorners stool,  
That listens not to heavenly counselling  
Of Wisdom, and her sweet admonishing,  
She hath provided victuals, poured out wine,  
Sent out her Maids us to the feast to bring,  
To bid those that seek Knowledge come and dine;  
And those that Prudence want to taste her grapes divine.   

For she's the Vine, whose grapes yield pleasing smell,  
Whose Fruit and Flowers, Wealth, Life, Honour are;  
The Garden where Christ dearest Spouse doth dwell,  
Planted with all the Herbs and Spices rare,  
Which to adorn his Church he doth prepare:  
Would thou one word which should her worth contain  
He hath true Wisdom, who the Lord doth fear,  
And who knows holy things doth entertain  
Right understanding, without this the rest are vain.   

She as the Prince or General doth guide  
All other Graces in Love's sacred band,  
Doth order, marshal, and for them provide,  
As th' Eye, which all the members doth command:  
The Governors of Men, of Cities, and  
Of Families, and each man's private state,  
She orders wisely by her prudent hand,  
And they that duly on Discretion wait,  
Command the Stars, and rule e'en over Time and Fate.   

As shadow's more directly opposite  
To Sun's bright Rays, seem short by being near,  
When those, which are much farther from the light,  
More goodly fair and long by far appear:  
So who small Knowledge have attained here,  
Thereof do always make a greater show  
Than those, whose understanding shining clear,  
Do all the Paths of heavenly wisdom know,  
For with true Wisdom always Humbleness doth grow.   

And as God's Wisdom doth no lesser seem  
In smallest creatures, as a Gnat or Fly,  
Than Greater; so we ought no less esteem  
Wisemen in low degree than Dignity:  
The Snail a mirror is of Polity,  
Who with her horns keeps alway's sentinel,  
And never cometh out before she try,  
If things without be all in Peace and well  
Else she, retiring home, lives quiet in her shell.   

Oh sons of men that you could but behold!  
The wondrous Beauty of this heavenly Pear;  
But nought on earth her Beauty can unfold  
Her Glory in the Heavens doth shine most clear;  
In all Gods works her splendour doth appear,  
She first from Heaven vouchsafed to descend  
To live in judah, with her chosen dear:  
But now her Beams more ample do extend,  
To all the Nations of the earth she light doth lend.   

She taught our Father that was made alone,  
To raise himself to Glory from his fall;  
But Envy turned from her his foolish son,  
And made by Fratricide and Fury fall:  
Lo when the Flood the world destroyed all,  
She it preserves by one wise work of Wood:  
The dead Sea yet is the memorial  
Of foolish City's five, which there erst stood,  
Where she saved Lot from fire, as Noah from the 'slud.   

To tell what wonders have been by her wrought,  
Were too to long for this short meditation;  
They in God's Book are easily found, if sought,  
For there indeed is Wisdom's commendation;  
Where she us doth, with wary observation,  
Unto the Coney and the Pismire send,  
To learn to get our food and habitation,  
Whose meaner Wisdom if we must attend,  
Much more wise Heathens sayings most divinely penned.   

One being asked, who was most wise, replied  
He that sinned least; when one of them desired  
To learn who was for youth the trustiest Guide:  
He answered, Prudence: And in's son required  
Only three things, which he in youth admired:  
In his tongue silence; Prudence in his mind;  
Shamefastness in his Face: when one required  
How he the greatest in the least might find;  
He answered, prudent thoughts in humane breast confined.   

This was an Ethnic: But how doth she shine,  
When she is joined with pure simplicity?  
When as that holy wisdom serpentine,  
Combines with dovelike true sincerity:  
Oh thus the Saints by holy subtlety,  
Walk safe amongst world's crooked generation:  
Thus walked our Saviour in Humility,  
And though the wicked plot his condemnation,  
Yet never could they touch him, but by subornation.   

Oh how should we that have this mirror bright!  
This Sun of Wisdom labour here to shine  
Like Stars, which from the Sun receive their light,  
And to sincerity true columbine,  
join this wise holy Prudence serpentine:  
Us to conduct through this world's wilderness,  
And a most safe and perfect way out line  
Through Iordans waves, to Land of Happiness,  
Where Mansions ready built, we shall for ay possess.   

And Vineyards planted, whence the Cananite,  
For wicked Treason against his Majesty,  
God hath expelled to Hell, and darkest night,  
Proud Lucifer and all his company:  
Oh why shouldst thou advance base dust so high!  
Whose earthly Mansion keeps his Spirit low,  
And will not let his understanding fly  
To see what goodly clusters there do grow,  
In heavenly Canaan, where Milk and Honey flow.   

We hardly here of things below discern,  
And with great pains what is before us find;  
Ah how shall we than able be to learn  
Thy Wisdom, which no limits have confined:  
Thy Spirit only can into our mind  
These hidden mysteries, in Christ reveal,  
In which the Princes of the world were blind;  
For from man natural thou dost conceal  
This Wisdom spiritual, which thou to thine dost deal.   

For as none knows the Spirit of a man,  
But that same Spirit that within doth dwell:  
So nothing apprehend this Wisdom can  
But that wise Spirit that all Truth doth tell,  
Oh Sacred Spirit of Truth! my heart compel  
This holy Sapience to entertain,  
Thou only giv'st to drink of Wisdom's Well;  
Man's wisdom's wickedness, his thoughts are vain,  
His knowledge is but error, and his pleasure pain.   

Thou didst create e'en all things by thy Word,  
And by thy heavenly Wisdom didst ordain  
Man of thy handy works to be the Lord,  
That he in Truth and Equity might reign,  
And with an upright heart the right maintain:  
Oh therefore down thine heavenly wisdom send,  
Me in all Truth and uprightness to train,  
She shall my Words and Works to thee commend,  
And bring my small beginnings to a perfect end.   

And here with Praise and Prayer I will end,  
Oh who aright can know or understand,  
Except thou Wisdom from thy Throne dost send,  
To give unto him what thou dost command:  
Then grant me Wisdom always to withstand  
Hells subtle Plots, and Worlds base Blandiments,  
Let sacred Prudence ever be at hand,  
Still to direct my words, acts, and intents,  
To yield Obedience to thy Commandments.    

MEDITAT. II. Of OBEDIENCE.  

WHen first th' Almighty, by his only Word,  
Had fashioned all within the Firmament:  
He made Man last, to be their King and Lord,  
That he to him might be obedient:  
But Man not with this Monarchy content,  
Divide his homage to omnipotence;  
And having but one small Commandment,  
Transgressed it by Disobedience:  
The easier the Command, the greater the Offence.   

This all the Sons of Adam do derive  
From him, and call it guilt Original,  
Which by th' Eternal Law did us deprive  
Of all God's Benefits, and did enthrall  
To endless Bondage, till Christ for this Fall,  
The price of his most precious blood did pay,  
Which us recovers from Sins actual,  
And by obeying Gods whole Law, doth stay  
His wrath, And merits Heaven for all that him obey.   

For as by first man's Disobedience  
On all men cometh Death and Condemnation;  
So by the seconds true Obedience,  
We have eternal Life, and sure Salvation:  
Thus Disobedience, by derivation  
From Adam, bringeth endless wretchedness,  
And true Obedience, by imputation  
Conuay's from Christ eternal Happiness;  
So by the first comes sin, by second Righteousness.   

The glorious robe of perfect Righteousness,  
Which they that are obedient only wear,  
To cover that foul shame and wickedness,  
Which Adam's Disobedience laid bare:  
Ah! let a Disobedient Sinner dare,  
The aid of the Obedient Lamb desire,  
My Will and Actions, Tongue and Heart to square,  
In due proportion to his heavenly squire,  
Whilst I of true Obedience praises do inquire.   

Devoutest Lady! Handmaid to the Queen  
Of heavenly Love, And so in duty bound,  
That she's alway's pressed and ready seen,  
To do what thing soever she propound:  
Her heart, words, will and deeds all one are found,  
Serving for Love, and not for Fear or Gain,  
No Subject merits better to be crowned;  
For who can best obey, he best can reign,  
And she is shortly sure, eternal Crowns to gain.   

If I may square Her by the Rules of Art,  
I her define to be our Wills subjection  
To Him, that aught to rule both will and heart,  
And by his will disposeth our best affection:  
The rule of Reason may be our direction,  
How our superiors Statutes we obey;  
But when the Lord commands, there's no election  
Nor doubting, what we ought to do or say,  
God's will's the rule of Right, which none may disobey.   

Here in two Branches, I might her divide,  
Obedience first to God, and secondly  
To our Superiors, that on earth abide,  
But all is but to one Authority:  
For there's no Power or precedency,  
But that which highest Power doth ordain;  
Who therefore doth resist man's Sovereignty,  
God's ordinance resisteth, and again  
Who duly it obay's, Gods Statutes doth maintain.   

Thus must our hearts, ears, hands be all attended  
His Word and Will in all things to obey,  
Who over us hath lawful Regiment,  
Which is one God, eternal, blest for ay;  
Whose servants all we are, And therefore may  
Not choose a Lord, or Master whom we will,  
Nor serve two masters, lest we disobey  
The one, when we the others mind fulfil,  
For that which pleaseth one, doth cross the others will.   

Thus our obedience is only due  
To him, that all did for his service make;  
And 'tis a firm position sound and true;  
God only for himself; But for his sake,  
All that from him Authority do take  
We truly and sincerely ought obey:  
Or else our bounden duty we forsake,  
As those which do their Princes disobey,  
When they their lawful Officers commands gainsay.   

For this whole world is like a family,  
In all things well and justly ordered;  
Where God hath the supreme authority,  
And Rulers theirs from him delivered,  
By which they do command as in his stead;  
Who then to them are disobedient,  
They may be said to disobey the Head:  
For whilst they rightly use their government,  
We ought them to obey in things indifferent.   

Indeed all ought regard the Supreme Will,  
As first commanding cause, and end of all;  
Which all that Being have, aught to fulfil,  
From which as all things rise, so all must fall;  
Here therefore first, we into mind will call:  
To whom that will commands us to obey,  
For in obeying their commands we shall  
Obey that Supreme Will: This is the way  
To make Gods Will the Cause, of all we do or say.   

To Him; we must be subject, first of all,  
To whom all Power in Heaven and Earth is lent;  
The Son of God begotten, natural,  
Next to his Ministers, which he hath sent:  
Apostles, Pastors, Doctors, here are meant;  
Which by his Word do teach their Master's Will,  
And rule his Church, by godly Government,  
And those, which hear these, his commands fulfil,  
And those which them despise, despise his heavenly Will.   

As Kings, which with great Honour do convey  
Princes Ambassadors, it do intend  
Unto their Lords, So we our Lord obey  
When we obey the Legates he doth send:  
The second Power is that which God doth lend  
To Kings and Princes, for to delegate  
judges, to punish those which do offend,  
And to maintain the Life, Peace, and estate  
Of every member, that maintains the Body's state;   

To this all Subjects owe Obedience;  
The third obedience is, which wife doth owe  
Unto her Head, who due Benevolence  
For Duty, aught unto his wife to show:  
For as the Church, so ought the Wife to know  
Her due Subjection unto her Head,  
And as our Christ directs his Church below:  
So wives must be by husbands ordered,  
But this of wives is better known, then practised.   

So is th' obedience, which Children owe  
Unto their Parents, by Commandment  
And promise, they shall long, and good day's know,  
If they to them will be obedient.  
The fifth and last is Master's Government,  
And Servant's Duty which they should them bear,  
Which ought to be with single true intent,  
Not for eyeservice, wages, or for fear;  
But as they would obey e'en Christ their Master dear.   

Thus ought we to obey these five degrees,  
Set over us: Because we so obey  
The highest Power, And if their just decrees  
We slight, that highest Power we disobey:  
Far wide then disobedient spirits stray,  
Which by Religion, would all reverence  
Exclude, due unto Magistrates, and say  
They unto no man owe obedience,  
A false excuse of Schism and all unreverence.   

Obedience preserveth Unity,  
And helpeth to this great world's conservation,  
As Heavens and Earth do by due Obsequy  
Obey their glorious Maker's Ordination;  
Behold how all things in this world's Creation,  
Do by their Maker's order stand or move;  
Earth keeps her Centre for man's preservation,  
The Heavens turn all in motion round above,  
Without Obedience one would out another shove.   

And thus we may Obedience observe,  
To hold our members in due motion ay,  
Whilst one doth to another member serve,  
And all unto the Spirit do obey,  
The Soul of man, which doth by reason sway  
e'en all the members, to their preservation,  
And if the least of them do disobey,  
She either seeks their better reformation,  
Or one endangers all, to endless condemnation.   

For whilst man here doth on the earth remain,  
Sin and corruption in his Body dwell:  
Seeking therein as Lord and King to reign,  
But Grace doth strive by force them to expel:  
If bondslaves we ourselves to Sin do sell,  
And give our members here Lusts to obey,  
We yield unto such Lusts as lead to Hell;  
But if that Grace our Soul aright doth sway,  
Then all the members follow Her the narrow way.   

Remove this Virtue of Obedience  
From Soul or Body, Subject, City, Town,  
Or from the Creatures wanting life and sense,  
And all unto Confusion tumble down:  
The Tower of Babel might to Heaven have grown,  
Had all obeyed with mutual diligence:  
But suddenly we see it overthrown,  
When to obey they want intelligence,  
For without understanding no Obedience.   

As to maintain Heavens perfect unity,  
All to one surpeame Trinity obey;  
So all that have with it Affinity,  
Subject themselves to that one God for ay:  
No wonder if those that him disobey,  
To many Errors, Schisms, and Sects do fall,  
For one true Unity they do gainsay,  
When they resist his Ordinances shall,  
And disobey God's Word, that here directeth all.   

Me thinks my Muse could here herself transcend,  
By musing of th' obedience above,  
Which from the Son to Father doth ascend,  
And Angels, who obeying Fear and Love,  
Alas what can th' eternal Power move!  
Obedience of poor wretches to require,  
But us to join to Christ our Head in Love,  
As he is join to God in due desire,  
Unto no other end Obedience doth aspire.   

For as when in a wild and fruitless stock  
We do some noble imp inoculate;  
The fruit erst base and wild, like to the Block,  
Is made as goodly, fair, and delicate  
As Tree which first this imp did generate:  
So the least imp of Christ's Obedience,  
In us engraft, doth us regenerate;  
And makes us bear fruit of like excellence,  
As lively tree, from which it first had influence.   

For all that from stock of first Adam come,  
Bear those sour fruits of Disobedience;  
But all, that do engraft again become  
In second Adam's true Obedience,  
Bring forth sweet fruits, like lively tree, from whence  
They have received first their sap to spring;  
Sweet living Vine! whose sacred influence,  
Us makes obedient to our Lord and King,  
Ah! who the praises of thy noble fruit can sing?   

It did advance that holy Prophet's quill,  
When He in volume of the book did find,  
Written, that thou shouldst Gods whole Law fulfil,  
Whereto thou wert withal thine heart inclined:  
And when the time was come thereto assigned,  
Thou wert obedient to all Gods will,  
Performing it with all thine heart and mind,  
Even till the jews thee on the Cross did kill,  
When thou resisted'st not, though they thy blood did spill.   

Obedient Lamb! this was the sacrifice,  
The offering God did for sin require;  
Thus We must offer up to God, likewise  
Our Souls and Body's, with like zealous fire  
To dye, if not indeed, yet in desire:  
Quick, holy, acceptable Offering,  
To pacify God's justice and his Ire,  
Is when to him obedient hearts we bring  
And crucify those Lusts, which from our Flesh do spring.   

As from the boundless Ocean do run  
All streams which do return into the Main,  
So from one pattern of Obedience come  
All ours, and thither doth return again;  
The Lamb that was from world's beginning slain  
Gave the first blow to Disobedience,  
Which Isaac imitates when he is lain,  
On Altar to be sacrificed thence,  
Whom truly Abram offered by Obedience.   

This was that quiet savour God did smell,  
When offering one of each clean bird and beast,  
The good old Noah pleased the Lord so well;  
Obedience was the Seasoning to the feast:  
What made the Lord Saul's sacrifice detest?  
But that he did his Word then disobey,  
When he did spare of Amalec the best,  
To offer up: But therein did obey  
His own corrupt inventions, not what God did say.   

Better than Sacrifice is to obey,  
And then the fat of Rams to give good ear,  
Happy though we do all the world gain say,  
If we obey our Lord and Master dear:  
But ah! whilst we remain as Pilgrims here,  
Flesh, World, and Devil daily us persuade  
To follow Pleasures vain, and to forbear  
Obedience to the Lord, which us hath made,  
Whose Statutes to obey should be our only trade.   

Oh Sacrifice of Fools! with tongue to pray,  
But harbour no obedience in thine heart;  
Who dost in word profess God to obey,  
But by thy works dost all his Law's pervert:  
Behold! it is not without just desert  
That Beasts to thee are disobedient,  
When thou to God a faithless rebel art,  
To whom obey Sun, Moon, Stars, Firmament,  
Nor Sea against his will invades the Continent.   

Whilst I about, this sinful Body bear,  
Lusts and corruptions will therein remain;  
Yet never let them so much domineer  
As here of Grace, the mastery to gain:  
For if I suffer Sin in me to reign,  
That all my members will to sin obey,  
That sin whereof Saint Paul doth so complain,  
Oh! who me from the same deliver may!  
It is not I, but sin that Christ doth disobey.   

If that the judge by his Authority,  
Enjoin me to perform or speak a thing,  
Against the will of Sovereign Majesty,  
Here my Denial no Offence doth bring;  
And if I be commanded by the King,  
To do against his will, that is above,  
I here no Rebel am, though suffering:  
For I were better Cross and Prison prove,  
Than in Gehenna fry, from whence is no remove.   

And as in all humane societies,  
The meaner Power the greater doth obey,  
Till to the Peramount it doth arise,  
Which Power all inferior powers sway:  
So in this Power Spiritual we may,  
Behold like order for Obedience,  
The Peramount is God's high Power ay;  
For though we do all Powers reverence,  
Yet to the highest we have alway's reference.   

What more unjust, than look to be obeyed,  
By our inferiors, and to disobey  
Those God hath placed above us for our aid,  
Ah how, Thy will be done may we here pray,  
As Angels do the same in Heaven for ay:  
Which we so often cross by doing ill,  
More often then are minutes in a day  
Oh let my Heart be ready to fulfil!  
Mine Heart be ready Lord! to learn and do thy will.   

Ready in all things lawful to obey  
Superiors all, to do things just and right,  
To Love my Neighbour; for mine enemy's prey,  
Grace to embrace, and with Corruptions fight,  
To cast off earthly things, and to delight  
Wholly in God, and heavenly contemplation;  
To work by day, to watch and pray by night,  
To learn of Christ, Meekness, Humiliation,  
With trembling and with Fear to work out my Salvation.   

Since I must be obedient to the end,  
How should I end to beg Obedience?  
Obedience, which to Liberty doth tend,  
And us restores unto that excellence  
Which Adam lost by Disobedience.  
Let others glory in their mighty train,  
And large command of many Continents;  
By Meekness and Obedience I shall gain,  
With Meek obedient Lamb in Heaven for ay to reign.    

MEDITAT. III. Of MEEKNESS.  

AS in fair Garden, where variety  
Of choicest Flowers, the senses to delight,  
Are placed by cunning hand, most curiously,  
Their diverse colours most effect the sight,  
That broad and fairest show and stand upright,  
But oft we find low creeping on the ground,  
An herb, whose odour sweet doth more invite  
Our smells, than all the Tuslips there are found;  
So is it with this Grace, which I do next propound.   

For though the goodliest Garden of the Bride,  
Like Eden is so fair embellished  
With richest Fruits and Flowers, from side to side,  
Their names and hues cannot be numbered,  
Much less their Force and Natures be aread:  
And though all are more glorious to be seen,  
Than Meekness, which is next deciphered:  
Yet none more pleasing to our smell I ween,  
Nor more, than her, respected of Love's royal Queen.   

Obedience, Meekness, and Humility  
Are Flowers, more for profit than for show,  
Pleasing the smell and taste more than the eye,  
And lowly like sweet Thyme and Hyssop grow;  
These by the outward face we must not know,  
Their inward virtue 'tis that we esteem  
Their Force is heavenly, though their dwellings low,  
And may the greatest Monarch here beseem,  
For sure the King of Kings like these himself did deem.   

And us commandeth all of him to learn  
Meekness and lowliness, which rest doth bring,  
Eternal Rest, which doth our Souls concern  
Here more than any vain and worldly thing:  
Most mighty God, and yet the meekest King?  
Fit thou my Soul for this sweet Meditation;  
And teach me meekness, whilst I meekness sing,  
Which base and mean in man's vain estimation,  
Is with the Lord of Lords of highest valuation.   

Some her define to be a Moderation  
Of Anger: And would have her to abstain  
From all revengeful furious, envious passion,  
Thereby possession of her soul to gain:  
For who doth gentle meekness entertain,  
With her finds happy Peace, and quiet Rest;  
And who from furious rage will not refrain,  
But harbours wrath, and malice in his Breast,  
Possesseth not himself, but is by them possessed.   

Meek, gentle, mild, soft, affable, and kind,  
In words, though diverse are, in sense the same;  
And come from gentle habit of the mind,  
Which like itself our words and acts doth frame,  
Making wild, savage, furious creatures tame,  
For all are mad and wild since Adam's fall,  
And burn in furious and revengeful flame,  
But meekness mitigates appeasing all,  
And blessed here in peace the earth inherit shall.   

Meekness which pleaseth God, and profits man,  
For God the meek exalteth to Salvation;  
And those which here abstain from Anger can,  
In multitude of Peace have delectation:  
With meek far better is humiliation,  
Than greatest spoils with proud ones to divide,  
Heavenly Hierusalem's no habitation  
For those, which Right by Duels do decide,  
But those which can with meekness iniury's abide.   

She ire and rancour in her heart can brook,  
But doth all with an equal mind sustain;  
Provoked by none, nor doth she one provoke,  
Though oft offended hurteth none again:  
She doth from all improbity abstain,  
Resists not evil, but the same with good  
Still overcomes, And doth more glory gain  
By gentle yielding, than if she withstood  
The wicked in his raging, furious angry mood.   

Oh Grace most glorious! when God Her sends  
To dwell in breast of some great Potentate:  
His Heart She from all Cruelty defends,  
And though he be a Lord of Life and Fate,  
His hands with blood doth not contaminate;  
She such a Prince to Heaven at length will bring,  
Too soon for us; though he may think it late:  
Let Homer fierce Achilles' praises sing,  
Give me a merciful, meek, mild, and gentle King.   

For Meekness brings more honour to a King,  
Than Purple, Sceptre, Diadem, or Crown,  
And richer triumphs doth to Emperors bring,  
Than winning any Castle, Fort, or Town:  
He gets eternal Glory and renown;  
Who can by meekness bridle passions right,  
Let Tyrant's rage, and let the Fury's frown;  
They can no more a good meek man affright,  
Than Arrow's hurt the water that thereon do light.   

Inhuman cruelty's taught in the school  
Of Satan; who would like himself have all;  
But he whose seats in Heaven, and his footstool  
Upon the earth; Before whose presence fall  
Down all the Angels, and him Maker call,  
Bids us like to himself be meek and low,  
For he that turned to sweet that cup of gall,  
Can make the meek and lowly highest grow,  
And with one blast the proud and cruel overthrow.   

I labour not to keep down or depress,  
That humane natures high sublimity,  
Without which creatures bear no awfulness  
Nor due respect unto the Majesty  
God hath annexed to man's Sovereignty:  
I seek to suit his mind and conscience,  
Unto his outward Grace and Dignity,  
And raise him by an inward confidence  
Of wel-knowne worth, to an angelic excellence.   

Yet not by this sublimity to swell  
Beyond the bounds of Mortals, He that's wise  
Will, as his worth and due deserts excel,  
Be still more low and humble in's own eyes:  
And as his State and Honour here do rise,  
He is more modest, gentle, meek, and kind,  
Preferring not himself in any wise  
Before his equals: thus he grace doth find,  
By gentle manswetude, with God and all mankind.   

For whilst by an obsequious conversation,  
And by ingenuous manners, pleasing, sweet;  
Far from base flattery, as vain ostentation  
He doth inferiors, equals, betters greet,  
By losing of his own; Lo he doth get,  
In others thoughts the highest estimation;  
His Head's in heaven, though on the earth his feet;  
And by another's virtues veneration,  
He getteth of his own all love and admiration.   

Oh happy man to whom heaven's King hath sent,  
This Grace to be the glory of the rest;  
What can that mind molest or discontent,  
That harbours gracious meekness in his breast:  
They that can contumely fair digest,  
If any them deride or reprehend,  
Straight of themselves take more severe inquest,  
If ought be justly blamed, they soon amend,  
If false, it never them shall anger or offend.   

Meek, gentle, patient, bearing right or wrong;  
From inward free, as outward perturbation,  
Revenge is not a thing that doth belong  
To her; she finds far greater contentation  
In wrongs dissembling, and their toleration:  
The wants, which she within herself doth find,  
Her more depress by modest moderation,  
Than all her virtues elevate her mind,  
As salt she savours all the virtues in their kind.   

This is the same, or very like the Grace,  
Which we do call Christian Humility  
Without which other virtues have no place,  
All are in her as in an Unity:  
She is the surest way to Dignity,  
The centre where all virtues lines do meet,  
Most honoured when she most doth vilify  
Herself, And when she stoops to wash Saints feet,  
The highest King of Kings, with kisses her doth greet.   

Yet none of worldlings is esteemed more vile,  
They it account a thing too mean and base,  
Here to descend unto so low a style;  
They think that meekness valour doth disgrace:  
But oh absurd, presumptuous, mortal race;  
So high and proud in thine own estimation,  
What thing's created in more wretched case?  
Weak vain precipite, and on each occasion,  
Ready to fall from highest hopes to desperation.   

What is thy Body but frail quickened clay?  
Thy soul's so clouded with obscurity;  
It is most ready, prone, precipite ay,  
To fall to baseness, error, vanity:  
Happy who sees his own infirmity;  
Thus By descending only we ascend  
Unto the highest humane dignity:  
First step to honour is to vilipend  
Ourselves: Let others thee and not thyself commend.   

None seeks to pull his foot out of the mire,  
Until he feels and knows that it is in,  
Nor none to wash the dirt off doth desire,  
Until he sees it cleave unto his skin:  
So till this Grace us shows ourselves within,  
We never seek those heavenly remedies,  
To purge our souls from error and foul sin;  
This was of all the Oracles most wise,  
First, know thyself: that is thine own infirmities.   

Thus comes the purest wheat from foulest ground,  
So it be first well tilled and harrowed,  
And thus the ignorant, grow men profound,  
When they their folly have discovered,  
Of all the virtues can be reckoned;  
The roots are bitter, fruits most sweet do prove,  
Self Pride, and Arrogance once settled  
In humane Breast, most hard are to remove,  
This work belongs to meekness, humbleness and Love..   

Most pleasant fruits, which from this root do spring,  
When weeding out base pleasures false and vain,  
She true delight into their rooms doth bring  
And rich Content, for ever to remain,  
Happy who can this Lady's favour gain;  
She able is and ready to defend,  
Against Souls troubles, and the body's pain;  
The meek, that patiently on God attend,  
Are sure to have a joyful, quiet, happy end.   

Nothing can his most noble mind appall,  
Which is with such Tranquillity endued;  
Crosses, Afflictions may him here befall,  
But base or abject thoughts cannot intrude  
Into a mind of such an habitude:  
Certain his breast all virtues doth contain,  
Who hath this gentle virtue manswetude  
Who wants her boasts of virtue but in vain,  
They are but shows of virtue, which with him remain.   

It is the height of folly to bewray  
Desire, where we have no power to offend:  
So beat the Sea, if it will not obey,  
Or winds which cross the way thou dost intend:  
So whom thou canst not reach his picture rend,  
Such wounds make arrow's, when they clean the air;  
Yet many thus with rage their spirits spend,  
Were it not better far to bear them fair,  
But Folly cannot bear, though thou in mortar bray her.   

If an Ass kicks thee, must thou kick again?  
Or barks a Dog, wilt thou strait bawl and cry;  
Because one's foolish, canst thou not refrain?  
But needs do that is ill for company:  
Let fools scorn mean Birth, want, deformity;  
This (if a fault) not thine, thy Maker's is,  
To him that's meek no infelicity  
Can fall by Fortune's bitter frowns or bliss,  
He counts them not his own, true virtue's only his.   

I liken Meekness to that piece of wood,  
Wherewith the Prophet did the Fountains heal;  
And made the bitter waters sweet and good,  
For so doth Meekness with Afflictions deal,  
She all their bitterness with joy doth seal,  
Even that accursed death upon a Tree,  
She turneth from a Curse, unto our Weal;  
Blest are the Meek, that for well-doing be  
Hanged thereupon: from thence they Paradise may see.   

A meek man's mind like solitary place,  
Where all is quiet, fit for Contemplation;  
And to behold his Maker's Will and Grace,  
Spending his time in sweetest meditation;  
But cruel minds are full of perturbation,  
Like to a Market or tumultuous Fair,  
Where all is filled with noise and molestation;  
Dirt in the streets, strong clamours in the air:  
Such places are unfit, for Grace's sweet repair.   

A meek mind's like unto Parnassus' Hill,  
Through whose pure air shines Phoebus golden ray;  
Whose silver Channels purest Fountain fill,  
And all the meads bedeck with lily's gay:  
The Gardens with fair Flowers adorned ay,  
And when the Brooks do murmur any sound;  
With much delight sweet Zephyrus doth play,  
And all the Birds upon the trees around,  
Consort with Muses nine to make a Heavenly sound.   

But a meek mind more pleasing is then all  
These Flowers, Fruits, or Musics sweet delight;  
No fit of Fury can that Heart appall;  
For as a Dart may on the water light,  
And hurts it not by any force or might:  
So Force, not Fury can meek mind offend,  
For it gives way as doth the water light,  
Oh happy quiet mind! that doth attend,  
With meekness on God's bounteous goodness to the end.   

As when the glorious Sunbeams do appear,  
All misty cloudiness is turned to day,  
So where this Grace the heart of men doth cheer,  
All passions turbulent are driven away:  
Then meekness most her Glory doth display,  
When she hath justest cause to take offence,  
No valour like this Dames behold we may,  
Nor any like her modest Patience;  
A meek and lowly mind excels all ornaments.   

As when the Lord of all to us did come  
In humane flesh, he peace and concord bred  
'twixt Men and Angels, and made all become  
As one, in peace, and quiet in their head;  
So where this meekness doth her Grace dispred,  
There Nations, Neighbours, Kindred, all we find  
Lately at Discord, now fast fettered  
In Love, and Friendships Bands, which firmly bind  
No surer band of love, than meek and gentle mind.   

In golden Age, when as the Poets fain  
Men, Beasts, Fish, Fowl to be at amity,  
This Lady Meekness as a Queen did reign,  
And under Love had all Authority:  
But since the Iron Age, which enmity  
Hath raised in every River, Town, and Field,  
She hath resigned her place of Sovereignty  
To justice, and delights now more to yield,  
Than Sceptres in age so turbulent to we'd.   

And for she knows the noble gentle mind  
Most sensible of wrong and injury:  
And few or none can here so constant find,  
As to dissemble foul indignity  
She all requests that love her company,  
Occasions to avoid and not invite;  
Which may provoke least jar or simulty,  
Aed not like teachy Curs to bark and bite,  
Or Frogs, which Poets fain with Bulrushes to fight.   

If thus they cannot, as who aye can here?  
Avoid some iniury's of them that reign,  
They must dissemble, and with pleasing cheer,  
What they can no ways shift, fair entertain:  
One asked, how such old age he did attain  
In Court; replied by bearing Iniury's,  
Sometimes remitting, and sometimes again,  
For them gave thanks, thus surely he that's wise,  
By suffering bears, and not provokes indignities.   

And since no earthly Power's so great and firm,  
But Injury sometimes will dare to smite,  
Let Wisdom's precepts so thee ay confirm,  
Thou never swerve from rules of Reason right:  
So armed the wrongs which on thine armour light,  
Shall back on him that sent the same rebound;  
But whom unarmed she can provoke to fight,  
Though happily they think her to confound,  
They sure are to receive a deep and festering wound.   

He stands not right, whom Injury can bow,  
Who ill bear old, do on them new invite;  
But he that bears the old with Patience: how  
Shall any new be able him to smite?  
He that is wise and valiant scorns her might,  
And by brave bearing doth her spite confound,  
He best o'ercomes that sets by her most light,  
Who by impatience, adds, is like him found,  
That doth, by rending make incurable his wound.   

In many wrongs 'tis better to be mute,  
Than by repeating them, oft very small,  
To cause long trouble or a tedious suit,  
Whilst all the shame doth on th'avenger fall:  
Such better were not mentioned at all:  
Invoke the help of constant Patience,  
Whose presence doth all Iniury's appall,  
And with an equal mind bears all offence,  
Or doth despise them in her guiltless conscience.   

Thus many, offering, do no Iniury's,  
Because they are not so conceived or taken;  
Oh happy who all wrong can so despise,  
With sense thereof ne'er to be overtaken;  
Whose unmoved constant mind is never shaken;  
So far from muttering or least murmuring,  
He laughs and smiles to see them so mistaken,  
Nor's only easy in their pardoning;  
But passeth by them without least acknowledging.   

He is above the reach of Injuries,  
Who can repress revenge's cursed desire,  
And to the full repay's his enemies,  
Who thus can quench wraths hot injurious fire.  
Yet holy meekness leads us a step higher:  
Happy who can ascend unto such height  
It is the summity, which all admire,  
Of highest virtue, when we take delight  
All Iniury's with Benefits here to requite.   

The jest is lost, if it no laughter move,  
So's Contumely if it be neglected;  
He never will a valiant Soldier prove  
To bear hot Blow's, that is with words affected:  
He sooner is with noisome smells infected,  
Who them with open nose doth entertain;  
Than he that stops it, or bears some selected  
Preseruative for to defend his brain:  
So 'tis to stop or open our ears to proud Disdain.   

Poet's paint Scylla with a woman's face,  
But like a Dog in neither parts and tail,  
Whom Hercules, th' Idea of all Grace  
And Virtue, did amongst the monsters quail,  
You give her Life, if you will hear her rail:  
But shut her mouth with patient suffering,  
Or stop thine ears, and soon her breath will fail:  
Here Meekness ends, and here I cease to sing,  
She doth more quiet Rest than all the Virtues bring.    

MEDITAT. FOUR GOD'S WORD.  

SO mighty are the weapons manifold,  
Wherewith our spiritual Foes do us assail;  
So many stratagems us to enfold,  
So many terrors vain, our hearts to quail,  
That neither Breastplate, Helmet, Shield or Mail  
Us help against their Forces can afford;  
For if they close with us, they will prevail,  
Therefore we must unsheathe our keenest Sword:  
Our weapon spiritual, even Gods most holy Word.   

Which those that able are to wield aright,  
Of far more Force, and lively Power find,  
Than all the weapons whereof Poets write,  
To have been wondrous powerful in their kind:  
What Homer of Achilles' Spear hath coined,  
I not unfitly to this Sword apply;  
Whose wounds to heal, no Balm could be assigned,  
The Spear that hurt, must only remedy;  
So whom this Sword doth kill, this Sword must vivify.   

Of wondrous weapons Heathen Poets tell  
Of Stygian Armour, and enchanted Swords;  
Whereby small Knights, did monstrous Giants quell,  
Subdued, and reigned over them as Lords,  
Such fiction to us good advice affords,  
Against these Giant's spiritual to fight,  
Our Fleshly Lusts, and for to bind in Cords,  
Our vain affections here that take delight,  
In doing that is wrong, and leaving that is right.   

God of all might, that hast us given this sword,  
Not only spiritual Battles here to fight,  
But dost engrave in it, as on record  
Thy Rules, whereby we muster may aright;  
The Lantern to our paths, our feets best light,  
Direct my Muse to sing I humbly pray  
Of this thy Word, by holy Words insight,  
For but by it, none can aright display  
That Swords eternal Power, which Sin and Hell dismay.   

That Word, which in Beginning, by a word  
Of Nothing made, Heaven, Earth, and Creatures all,  
And was from all Beginning God and Lord,  
Doth not within my Muse's compass fall:  
That Word whereof now meditate I shall,  
Is that revealed written verity,  
Which first and second Testament we call:  
Both which were first declared mightily  
By wonders, signs, and miracles from God on high.   

For as the Lord most mighty wonders wrought,  
By him, that publicly did first record  
This sacred Word; And by his Hand forth brought  
His Sons from Bondage of a cruel Lord:  
So those to whom he did this Grace afford,  
Of publishing his later Testament,  
Wrought mighty wonders by this mighty Word,  
To all Beholder's great astonishment,  
Confirming thus, that they from God above were sent.   

From whom this Word hath all Authority,  
For by the holy Spirits inspiration,  
Came Law, and Gospel, Prophets, History,  
And all Canonical wise ordination:  
The sacred Light, that gives illumination  
Until the Daystar in our Hearts arise:  
Whose heavenly Wisdom breedeth Admiration  
In all their Hearts, that are divinely wise,  
But folly seems to such as sin doth blind their eye's.   

And sure it is a mighty powerful Word,  
If that the sense thereof be right applied,  
More keen than any sharp two edged sword,  
And e'en the Soul and Spirit doth divide:  
By it are all our Hearts intents descried,  
The joints and marrow it doth smite in sunder,  
No Creature from her sight itself can hide,  
All high exalted things it bringeth under:  
And against all disobedience soundeth out like thunder.   

This was the Sword, wherewith our valiant Head,  
When he was tempted in the Wilderness,  
And with a six-weekes-fast sore weakened,  
Did free himself from Hell's maliciousness:  
When first on him his Enemy did press,  
He used the hilts himself for to defend,  
But when he could not thus his Foe repress;  
Lo he the point, against his Breast doth bend;  
Behind me, Satan, All, God's worship must attend.   

Those, that will use aright this holy Word,  
Must not the letter, but the sense apply;  
Or else they use the Scabbard for the Sword,  
Wherewith none ever won the Victory:  
It is the Mystery of Iniquity,  
To take the letter, and to leave the sense,  
To forge of Antichrists Idolatry,  
The feigned Rock, the Key's of Heaven from whence  
He claims to universal Power, Obedience.   

A multitude of words, but all one sense,  
And tending all to that grand mystery,  
To which all mysteries have reference,  
Man's personal union with the Deity:  
The which to God was known infallibly  
In his election, ere the world's Foundation,  
And all the Books it seems to typify  
From Genesis unto the Revelation,  
Sublime, transcendent mysteries of man's Salvation.   

How should my Muse these hope to comprehend,  
In this short fainting breath of meditation;  
Which doth all humane wit and skill transcend,  
Whose each word hath an hid signification:  
Each letter, prick, and point, an observation,  
All favouring of Wisdom, true, divine,  
And far beyond man's weak investigation,  
In it such rare profound deep Learning shine,  
A Volume is not able to expound a Line.   

Fie then on those, that swollen with vain ambition  
To sway all Kingdoms with material sword;  
Prefer before this Word, their vain tradition,  
Which nought but vainness, like themselves afford:  
Their names be wiped out of the Record  
And Book, which all thy Saints names doth contain;  
That thus do seek to vilify this Word,  
Which to accomplish Gods own Son was slain,  
And thousand Martyrs spent their blood it to maintain.   

So deal with Prophets, that to hide conspire  
From simple people, Food spiritual;  
Which they, as new borne Babes do milk desire,  
That they may grow up to be strong and tall:  
I grant as Mother's breasts do, best of all  
Nourish the Child, so doth God's holy Word,  
Which from our Mother-Churches breasts doth fall,  
Best nourishment unto her Babes afford;  
So as it be sincere: Else be it all abhorred.   

True Angels Food! sweet Manna, pure, divine,  
My Spirits daily bread, and nourishment,  
Which wanting she doth hunger, statue and pine,  
And yield to Body's sleshly Regiment:  
My Soul with fat and marrow is content,  
When I with joyful lips thy praises sing,  
And feed upon thy Laws great wonderment;  
Which to subjection doth my Body bring,  
And makes the Spirit rule, and order like a King.   

The Spirit it compares to Looking Glass,  
Where we our Faces Spots may all behold;  
But soon out of our memory they pass,  
Like to a Dream or Tale that's idly told:  
But who his mind thereon doth daily hold,  
Doth walk in perfect Law of Liberty,  
Which to him doth apparently unfold  
His Soul and Flesh's least deformity,  
And showeth him the means the same to rectify.   

e'en as the Rain indiffereutly doth fall,  
Upon the fruitful, and the barren ground;  
So preached is this Heavenly Word to all,  
Though to the faithless, it be fruitless found,  
Oh! where this Word doth powerfully sound,  
The strongest holds of sin it shatters down;  
And things most high exalted doth confound,  
It's smallest-Seed in lowly Valley sown,  
Est suddenly is to a mighty Cedar grown.   

It is reported of the silver Dove,  
She near the purest Streams doth most delight;  
In which She may espy the shadow move,  
Of towering Falcon, or the ravenning Kite;  
Whereby she is forewarned to scape by flight,  
From cruel Hawks, that seek her for a pray!  
So if in spiritual streams we take delight,  
Our spiritual Foes we there discover may,  
That so our Souls forewarned, like Doves might fly away.   

Most glorious Sunshine! where it doth enlight,  
More comfortable Light hath shown;  
But when She doth withdraw her Beams, is night  
And darkness spiritual, far grosser grown,  
Than that which three day's was to Pharaoh known;  
Hard-hearted Pharaoh, thou that didst despise,  
This Word and all the wonders by it shown,  
e'en all thy plagues light on them that device,  
To hide this heavenly Light; from simple people's eye's.   

It is the door, whereby the pastors may  
Spiritually ascend into their Fold,  
Those that do enter in another way  
We do as ravenning wolves and robbers hold:  
This Word's a touchstone, which doth try from Gold  
All metals base, Inventions of man's brain,  
Of which such store at Latium now are sold,  
Not for the Flocks, but for the Shepherd's gain,  
Mass, Dirges, Pardons, Trentals, and Traditions vain.   

Nothing describe her nature better will,  
Than Touchstone: th'use of which simplest may learn,  
But one had need of cunning Goldsmith's skill;  
True Touchstone from a false one to discern,  
Oh how did those noble Berreans earn!  
To try those things that Paul delivered,  
The things which our Salvation did concern,  
By that which in the Scriptures they had read,  
The Scriptures that the Spirit had canonised.   

Who from the simple people these do hide,  
Deal as with Israel did the Cananite,  
Who no Smith suffered in their Coasts t'abide,  
To make a weapon for an Israelite:  
Therefore no spear, nor sword when they should fight,  
But in Saul's hands and Jonathan's were found,  
Cham's hellish policy, most devilish sleight,  
To hold in Ignorance and Bondage bold,  
By taking way such helps as Liberty propound.   

As first, God by his Word and Spirit wrought,  
And fashioned all things in this world's Creation,  
So by this Word and Spirit he hath brought,  
All things to pass in this our renovation;  
And as he for our Bodies preservation,  
Hath here material Bread and Wine prepared,  
So's Word and Spirit is for sustentation  
Of all our Souls, that rightly it regard,  
Such never need of thirst and hunger be afeard.   

As Appetite's a Sign of Body's Health,  
So of the Souls is hunger of his Word;  
And as to him that seeketh store of wealth,  
A Mine can best what he desires afford:  
So he that spiritual treasures up would hoard,  
Come to this sacred Word where he shall find,  
It doth a world of mystery's record,  
The richest jewels to adorn the mind,  
True treasure's no where else revealed to mankind.   

For it's the Megazine where pastors have,  
All gems and treasures to enrich their fold;  
The store-house, whence they all abundance crave  
Of living food, their Lambs in plight to hold;  
The armoury, from whence they may he bold,  
To fetch all arms and weapons to withstand  
The wolves which them infest: and to uphold  
Truth and the right, against all Satan's Band,  
False Heretics, base Lusts, and world's encroaching hand.   

But as the Manna that from Heaven was sent,  
Bred Worms, if wrong, but Food if rightly used,  
So breeds this Word our Souls due nourishment▪  
But never-dying worms if once abused:  
He that for Egypt's fleshpots hath refused,  
This Heavenly Food, And man's tradition vain,  
His base false lying Legends rather choosed,  
Shall whilst this Flesh between his jaws remain,  
Be with his great and wealthiest chosen shavelings slain.   

Fountain of living water! which doth more  
And faster spring, as it is emptied,  
Most fruitful Vine, which bringeth still more store,  
Of heavenly grapes, as they are gathered.  
Th' epistle of Heaven's King, which rightly read,  
Brings us the gladsome tidings of Salvation;  
Whose harder sense strong men may choose as bread,  
The plainer babes may suck for sustentation;  
We both aright concort by heavenly meditation.   

The Sword that doth spiritually divide  
From us, all manner of concupiscence:  
Our youth's reformer, and our ages guide,  
Transcending reason, more than reason sense;  
Truths ground, the Fountain of Intelligence;  
loves compliment, the root of humbleness;  
Faiths hold, the Rule of all Obedience:  
Hopes anchor, and the path of Rrighteousnesse,  
The ladder which we climb from hence to Happiness.   

Would you have more? it is the milk sincere,  
Which can alone quench Hell's eternal fire;  
The only Daughter, to her Mother dear,  
The mystery which Angels do admire,  
The sweetest song of blessed heavenly Choir:  
Whose Praise e'en all the heavenly Powers sing;  
Apostles, Prophets, Martyrs, all desire  
With all their might to strike this lofty string,  
Which David in one Psalm a thousand times doth ring.   

As jacob with the Angel wrestled,  
Nor let him go without a blessing would;  
So when words mysteries by us are read,  
We strive and struggle for the meaning should:  
A goodly strife if we contending could  
Hold out, till what we seek we do obtain;  
As Incense doth no pleasing smell unfold,  
Nor Spice till it be in a Mortar brain,  
So are words mysteries, till study makes them plain.   

This makes the lips of Christ's endeared Bride,  
Than any Honey comb to drop more sweet;  
And underneath her daintiest tongue, abide  
Hony and Milk; The Honey is most meet  
To heal the wounds Sin makes from head to feet,  
The Milk for Babes; Lo thus her either Breast,  
Which like two twining Roes do equal meet,  
Yield most abundant Food, if softly pressed,  
And both with Roses sweet and lily's fair are dressed.   

This is the Tower of David, which is built  
By th'holy Spirit, of most costly stone;  
Whereon a thousand Shields do hang all guilt  
With swords and weapons for the mightiest One:  
This is the Privy Garden, where alone  
The Spouse with Bridegroom doth herself delight,  
Planted with Nardus, Saffron, Cinnamon,  
And all trees good for medicine, taste, or sight,  
Through which doth flow a well of living waters bright.   

Most heavenly Paradise! where tree of Life  
My Soul most heavenly Fruits doth daily bring;  
Fit for the Lamb to walk in, with his wife,  
And for the Spouse most Angel-like to sing,  
The Sovereign Grace and Bounty of her King;  
Where though I often seek to hide in vain,  
Me from my Nakedness discovering,  
My blessed Bridegroom calleth me again,  
And clothes me with the Robes of Lamb most righteous slain.   

There Manna-like (Lo) eur'y Fruit doth taste,  
Just as we would; none justly can complain;  
Though his unweeded garden lieth waste,  
God send to good and bad alike his rain:  
Let him, where thorns and briers do remain  
Take heed, how he this heavenly dew accuse;  
It is the root, thy evil heart and vain,  
Which doth the sweetness of this rain abuse;  
Which for to water weeds and nettles doth it use.   

How should this Word be sweet unto the mouth?  
Wherein is nought but Gall and Bitterness!  
Or how should heavenly dews from West or South,  
Moisten that Heart, which by maliciousness  
More hardened is, than Flint in wickedness:  
Alas what Corn can sweetest rain forth bring,  
In Ground that choked is with worldliness,  
Where as the thorns up with the wheat do spring,  
And from the root suck up all heavenly nourishing.   

Even as a Lamp, without supply of Oil  
Being daily had, is soon extinguished;  
So though we seem to prosper here awhile  
In Faith and Grace, all's soon abolished  
Unless that they be daily nourished,  
With Hearing, Reading, Prayer, Meditation,  
In vain it with our mouths is uttered,  
Except it in our hearts makes habitation;  
And we express it in our lives and conversation.   

Oh let this holy Words most heavenly Fire?  
My secret, sound affections inflame,  
And burn up all vain fleshly world's desire,  
Oh blessed Fire! like that in Bush did flame,  
But never did consume or burn the same;  
The fire whereby Gold Catholic is tried,  
And straw, and ‛ stubbled error brought to shame,  
In whom this inward fire doth ay refide;  
He well the scorching heat of outward may abide.   

But as no fleshly eye's can here behold,  
The glorious Sun, but by that Sun's sweet sight;  
So no man understanding, may be bold  
To know this Word, but where it doth enlight.  
Lord! in thy Light, then let me see this Light,  
Whereby I may my sinful life amend;  
And in thy Statutes set my whole delight,  
And wholly in the way's of wisdom tend,  
So shall my foot stand fast, with joy unto the end.   

For as the snow and rain from Heaven descend,  
But never thither do return again  
Till that be done; for which thou didst them send,  
To make the fruitful soil fit for the grain;  
So never shall thy Word return in vain,  
But sure accomplish what thou dost intend;  
Then moisten daily, with this heavenly rain  
My hardened Heart, that all my powers may bend,  
To glorify thy name, who dost these showers send.   

How should he fear to want his daily Food,  
Who with this Word of Life is nourished;  
Or who can thirst that drinketh of his blood,  
Let not this Word be underualued:  
He that is with this Heavenly Manna fed,  
Eats of the fattest of Gods spiritual store;  
Wherewith Christ's tender Spouse is fostered,  
Till She grows strong, and fair to stand before  
Her Head, And never thirst nor hunger any more.   

This Words Eternal, therefore hath no end;  
I no beginning, nor conclusion find.  
I could herein my Life and Spirits spend,  
It doth so feed my Soul and glad my mind:  
But now my Muse to Prayer is assigned,  
And bow's her knees to end her Meditation  
With Praise to Him, who first mine Heart inclined,  
To seek this Heavenly Food of Contemplation,  
I hope unto his Glory, and mine own Salvation.    

MEDITAT. V. Of PRAYER.  

AS wise experienced, valiant General,  
When's Soldier armed is from Foot to Head,  
And hath at hand his Shield, and Sword, and all  
His Armour, with his Belt fast buckled;  
Yet him into the Battle will not lead,  
Till he be taught his Sword aright to wield,  
To take Advantages, if offered,  
And to defend his Body with his Shield;  
Then him thus taught and trained he leads into the Field.   

So we, that in these Spiritual Battles fight,  
Not with frail Flesh, but Principality's;  
And powers of exceeding foce and might,  
Besides their treason, plots, and policies,  
Must first be taught in Arms to exercise;  
That all in complete Armour ordered  
And taught how to assault our enemy's,  
They with our Sword may be discomfited,  
And we from Hell and Bondage safe delivered.   

I of this Military Art do know  
No Tutor like to holy supplication;  
Prayer who use of all our Arms doth show,  
The Sergeant Maior of our Militation:  
Divinest Prayer, holy Meditation,  
Whereby with God we have sweet conference  
About the mysteries of Man's Salvation;  
And call the Angels down for our defence  
Against Flesh's, Worlds and Devils hostile violence.   

Prayer, who though her knees bow in the dust,  
Yet are her upper parts above the sky;  
And do into th' Almighty's presence thrust,  
To crave of all we want a new supply:  
Which like to clouds of incense up do fly,  
If offered by his Sons sweet mediation;  
Whose just requests, no Father, can deny:  
Oh offer mine then, That this Meditation  
May be directed by thy Spirits illumination.   

True Prayer is the opening the desire  
Even of our Heart and Soul to God aright;  
Them pouring out to him, that doth require  
We should lay open all before his sight:  
The Sacrifice wherein he doth delight,  
A sure defence to him that right doth pray;  
The Scourge, wherewith we Sin and Satan smite,  
And powers all and policies gainsay,  
Our surest Refuge in each dangerous Affray.   

For Christian Soldier never kneeleth down,  
And lifts his heart up towards Heaven to pray,  
But all his Foes spiritual, him arowne  
Assault and labour him herein to stay:  
Then is it time for him about to lay,  
With his sharp Sword to put them all to flight,  
And for to arm each part, lest they him slay,  
With Greaves, Belt, Breastplate, Shield and Helmet bright,  
In Faith, Hope, Patience, Truth and Righteousness to fight.   

By rules of Art, I Prayer may divide  
To these two Heads, Thanksgiving, Invocation;  
The second I in three do subdivide,  
Petition, Intercession, Deprecation:  
First seeks God's Glory, and our own Salvation;  
The second doth for others make petition,  
(So Christ doth intercede by mediation)  
By last we do entreat for sins remission,  
And be delivered from all ill, and superstition.   

But as the Sauldier, be he ne'er so strong;  
Well armed, and skilled in points of Schoole-defence;  
If that his spirit faint, is laid along:  
So if we in our Arms have confidence,  
And not rely on God's sole Providence;  
His Spirit which helpeth our infirmities,  
And doth instruct to pray with reverence,  
Sending up heart and soul by sighs and cries,  
For all our Arms and strength our Foes will us surprise.   

For Spirit is the cause efficient,  
Of all our prayers that to Heaven ascend;  
Though Faith be the Internal instrument,  
By which we all things ask, do apprehend:  
With Faith and Spirit, Prayer Heaven doth rend,  
And whatsoever she in Christ his name  
Doth ask, the Father down to us will send;  
This Pagans saw (though otherwise to blame)  
That Christians nothing beg, but they obtain the same.   

All Blessings spiritual, and temporal  
Public and private, for ourselves and Friends;  
All that in this life, or a better fall  
To us almighty God for Prayer sends:  
When Heaven is shut up, that no dew descends,  
If we forsake our sins, and pray for rain,  
The Heaven on us abundant showers spends:  
Though Foes us captive from our City's train,  
Yet Prayer makes us Free, and brings us home again.   

If Dearth, Drowth, Pestilence be in the Land,  
Or City's be besieged by enemies,  
Then if the cause thereof, we understand  
Our sins, And seek by Prayer remedy,  
God will be merciful accordingly:  
Yea if a Stranger, of an Heathen Nation,  
Do call on God by Prayer heartily;  
And of his life do seek a reformation,  
His Prayer shall be heard, by Christ his mediation.   

Thus Prayer is for all things profitable,  
If her true object she do never miss;  
One God, who gracious, willing is and able,  
And of our Heart the only Searcher is:  
All things that are in Heaven and Earth are his,  
We must, no person in the Deity,  
Omit, when as we pray to him for Bliss  
All works external, in the Trinity  
Are one, though their internal have variety.   

Divinest Paternoster! whose one Word,  
In it more heavenly matter doth contain;  
Than one whole hours babbling can afford,  
Sudden abortives of an idle brain:  
With tedious turnings, repetitions vain,  
Out tumbling all that in their stomach lies,  
Which often go beyond this Prayers strain,  
As if they were more fervent or more wise,  
Than he that for our pattern did it first device.   

Pure Prayer made by serious meditation,  
Or by this holy pattern rightly penned;  
Brief spiritual, sublime ejaculation,  
With fervent Fury doth to Heaven ascend,  
And to the mark like swiftest arrow tend:  
God is in Heaven, thou kneelest on the ground,  
To him therefore no rash petitions send;  
Therein let matter more than words abound,  
And inward sighs and groans, than outward plaints and sound.   

But Prayer; though by thy two mighty wings  
Of Love, and Meekness, thou to Heaven canst sore,  
And come in presence of the King of Kings,  
By pardoning wrongs, and giving to the poor;  
Presume not on thy merits ere the more  
That Brightness who doth sit upon the Throne,  
Angels not able are to stand before;  
Alas how dar'st thou then there stand alone,  
Without the mediation of the Holy One.   

Like birdlime merits, so thy wings besmear,  
That thou not able art to take thy slight  
Above the Firmament, or to come near  
That evershining Lamp of Heavenly Light;  
Which ought thy Prayers to direct aright  
In Knowledge, Meekness, and Humility,  
By which we feel and have and inward sight  
Of our unworthiness, and misery,  
And seek else where, for worth and true felicity.   

e'en to that lively Fountain of the Lamb,  
Which is a deep well, wondrously profound,  
From which, by Prayer, breaking up the dam,  
We draw up waters which do there abound:  
The depth of this rich Well, no Grace can sound,  
But fervent Prayer, when as She doth desire  
To cool her thirst, with waters therein found,  
wherewith if once we cool our thirst, like Fire  
The more we drink thereof, the hotter's our desire.   

An Ox's lowing, barking of a Dog,  
Grunting of Swine, doth more the Lord delight;  
Than Prayers which the World and Flesh so clog,  
They come not from us with a Heart and Spirit,  
And as no salve or medicine hath might,  
To heal the wound which Iron doth contain:  
So Prayer never profiteth that wight,  
In whom Hypocrisy or guile remain;  
For these still fester deeper to the Patient's pain.   

God is our Souls Physician, and knows best  
What for her sickness is best remedy;  
And therefore when we needful things request  
Of him, for this our life's necessity,  
He, better than his Patient, can descry  
What is most fit to keep him from the grave,  
And cure him of his spiritual malady,  
Wherefore when we receive not what we crave,  
We know Christ better knows, than we what need we have.   

God's Word's the Sword, whereby our Lord doth sway  
And rules his Church here as he is a King;  
As Priest, he offers praises, and doth pray;  
As Prophet he glad tidings us doth bring,  
Most wisely teaching and admonishing:  
Thus, Aaron-like, to God he doth present  
Our prayers, praises, tithes, and offering,  
(For Aaron's Office Christ's did represent)  
And makes them give to God an acceptable sent.   

Prayer is man's best fence, the Angel's joy,  
The Devil's torture, God's sweet sacrifice,  
We by her means all blessings here enjoy,  
By prayer we obtain here to be wise;  
By prayer with th' Almighty we advice,  
By reading he doth answer us again;  
But our Lip-labour he doth all despise,  
Ah what do then those simple people gain?  
Which in a tongue unknown do mutter prayers vain.   

Oh! when the Spirit with understanding prays,  
And even the Heart with sighs and groans up sends  
To him that willing, able is always  
Us from Hell, Death and danger to defend:  
Then, as a Bullet doth the welkin rend,  
Blown with the force of Powder and of Fire;  
So do our Prayers up to Heaven ascend,  
By Zeal and Force of spiritual desire,  
Where they of God obtain all things they can require.   

Moses gainest Amalec doth more prevail  
By Prayer, and by holding up his hands,  
Then mighty josuah, though he doth assail  
Them with his strong and most selected bands:  
At josuahs' short sweet Prayer the Sun still stands,  
Till he's avenged of his enemy's;  
Elisha all the Host of God commands  
Him to relieve in his necessity's,  
Even Fiery Horse and Charrets keep him where he lies.   

Prayer is able by plain strength to wring  
From hand-breadth Cloud, an Ocean of Rain;  
And Captives out of Babylon to bring,  
To worship in Jerusalem again.  
The Angel strived with jacob but in vain;  
Without a Blessing he will not unloose;  
Zenacharibs' whole Host was spoiled and slain,  
By Hezekias Prayer: when we close  
With God by Prayer, we our holds must never lose.   

The Rains-horns, Trumpets, which seven Priests did blow,  
Most lively do strong Prayer represent;  
Which with the people's shout did overthrow  
Proud walls of jericho, to astonishment  
Of all the wicked, that therein are penned:  
This was the music Aaron's sons did sound  
With Trumpets, when to war the people went;  
When Daniel in Lion's Den was found,  
True Prayer from their jaws him kept both safe and sound.   

'tis not our words God looks on, but the mind;  
Not to the place, but to the true intent  
In dungeon jeremy did comfort find;  
And job upon the dunghill takes content;  
Three Children in the fiery Furnace penned,  
Are heard, when Praises they to God do sing:  
The Thief from Cross as grateful Prayers sent,  
As from his Temple Solomon the King,  
The Hermit's Cell may oft as loud as Steeple ring.   

Not that from public Prayer I purloin,  
Of which Gods house hath her denomination;  
Where Priests and people's hearts and voices join,  
To tear the skies with cries and supplication:  
Oh Force united of a Congregation!  
In Gods own house of Prayer gathered,  
For Praise, Petition, or for Deprecation,  
God nought denyeth so petitioned,  
And we thus from all evil are delivered.   

When Peter slept with chains in prison bound,  
On each side Soldiers, Keepers at the door,  
The Church doth pray, though he sleep fast and sound,  
And God him loosed from his chains therefore:  
And when the Angel lighteth him before,  
The Iron Gate opes of his own accord:  
Paul's, David's, samuel's, a thousand more  
Of Prayers, you may find upon record,  
All which may seem to bind toth' Peace, our angry Lord.   

I all conclude with his most heavenly one,  
Who did in day's of his Humility;  
With loudest cries in Spirit sigh and groan,  
For Freedom of that dire calamity,  
Which came on him for our Iniquity:  
And though he Legions could of Angels call,  
To save him from inhuman cruelty,  
Yet Lamblike did before his Shearer fall,  
Submitting to his Father's will and pleasure all.   

Without us, God will nothing for us do,  
We therefore must prepare to fight always;  
And without God we can nor stand nor go,  
And therefore must be always swift to pray:  
If these so prayed when Foes did them assay,  
When Flesh and Blood with Flesh and Blood did fight;  
What shall we in this dangerous great affray,  
When we encounter with spiritual might,  
Which in his Agony did Christ our Head affright.   

But ah! we at our first conversion pray  
Most fervently oft, for the novelty,  
But after negligent, cold sleeping say  
Our Paternoster in security:  
Thou sleepest secure, but ah! thine Enemy  
Doth watch thee thine even napping to surprise,  
We then to God withal our hearts do cry,  
When as no thoughts withdraw us otherwise;  
Alas! but few or none pray often in this wise.   

Oh! that a man of base and filthy mould,  
Should dare fall down before God's glorious Throne,  
His wants and imperfections to unfold,  
And have his heart like Nabals dead as stone;  
When Angels that come near that holy One,  
Are fain their face to cover with their wings;  
So bright his Glorious Majesty hath shown,  
Who is the Lord of Lords, and King of Kings;  
The searcher of our reins, and tryer of all things.   

When I no longer able am to fight,  
Like Moses let me lift up hands and pray  
Against the invisible Amalekite,  
That spiritually doth seek my soul to slay:  
When I with Faith, two words, Our Father, say;  
I pardon beg for Sin, Freedom from pain;  
God's Heir and Son, Christ's Brother, I that day▪  
Am made, and gifts of Holy Ghost do gain,  
Then let me never mumble over words in vain.   

But I confess, though I do often prove,  
There is no comfort like this one, to pray;  
That is bestowed on man from Heaven above,  
Yet find I Satan pressed and busy ay,  
Me in this holy duty to assay,  
By wand'ring Thoughts, and vain imaginations,  
Which oft'doe lead my Mind so far astray,  
I am bereaved of Heavenly cogitations,  
And change for idle fancy's, holy meditations.   

But Prayer doth so please my Muse's strain,  
That I omitted have of Praise to sing,  
The Sacrifice we offer here again,  
For all the Bounty of our heavenly King:  
I liken her to Prayers either wing,  
Forgiving wrongs, and Alms unto the poor  
Our holy lively spiritual Offering,  
Of Body, Soul, Heart, Tongue, and all our store,  
With true Obedience to God for evermore.   

Whilst here of Benefits no end we find,  
How should we ever make an end of praise;  
Oh happy Bands! that us for ever bind,  
Even when our Souls and Body's Chrisi shall raise,  
Our praise shall be eternal like our day's:  
He that his time in praise and hymns would spend,  
I him refer to David's heavenly Lays,  
Divinely by the holy Spirit, penned,  
My Muse now out of Breath, cannot this Mount ascend.   

Oh let my voice and heart together join!  
God of the lips accepts not, but the heart;  
Grant that my life in Holiness may shine,  
That Conscience may ever bear apart;  
Presumptuous man! that dar'st thy Maker thwart,  
To pour out fond petitions base and vain,  
When thou consid'rest before whom thou art,  
Him that doth all lewd lying lips disdain.  
And Hypocrites rewardeth with infernal pain.   

If prayer be right, pure, sincere and meek;  
It never empty shall return again;  
For God will either grant us what we seek,  
Or give us that shall be our greater gain:  
Mine Heart, mine heart Lord! doth rejoice amain,  
Ay in thine House of Prayer to abide;  
Where swallows build, and Sparrow's are full fain  
To lay their young ones by thine Altar's side,  
Me never let the Spirit of Prayer be denied!   

But since I ought to pray continually,  
How should my Pen of Prayer make an end;  
My Saviour praying on the Cross did dye;  
With Prayer Steven his Soul to Heaven did send,  
But I began with Prayer; let me end  
With Praises to the Horn of my Salvation,  
Who sure I hope his blessed Spirit did send,  
To guide me in this holy Meditation,  
Which fills my Tongue with Praise, & Heart with Admiration.    
FINIS.   

URANIA, OR THE HEAVENLY MUSE.  
LONDON, Printed by WILLIAM STANSBY. 1625.   

TO MY EVER HONOURED FRIEND, M. JOHN MAYNARD, one of the Gentlemen of his Majesty's Privy Chamber in Ordinary.  

MY dear Urania wilt thou now forsake  
My Cottage, and to Court thyself betake?  
Dost hope thou there, as here shalt find retire?  
I cannot but thy simpleness admire.  
But since thou needs wilt go, I'll thee commend  
unto the Muses most familiar Friend;  
Who (had not his great Prince's Love and Grace  
Him brought from Muse's Groves to's Royal place)  
Might on his Front have worn thy Crown of Bays,  
And been the Prince of Poets in his days.  
he'll leave all profit, pleasure, honour gain,  
The heavenly Muse alone to entertain;  
Oh happy Court! most blessed Courtiers ye,  
That from the Muses Springs transplanted be,  
This 'tis makes Art's, and Learning so increase,  
Hence followeth all our happiness and Peace:  
The Muses needs must dance when Courtiers sing,  
All follow the example of the King.   
Yours truly devoted.  
R. A.   

URANIA.  

ABout the Season Lawyer's tongues do rest,  
And make for 
* Harvest.  Ceres' honour long vacation;  
I (freed from tumults which me erst oppressed,)  
Dispose my mind to holy Meditation:   

And thinking how I might a subject find,  
Delightful, pleasing, sweet and profitable;  
My heart to better, and enrich my mind  
And tongue acquaint, with Phrases delectable.   

As Traveller that meets with diverse ways,  
I long deliberate to choose the best  
And fairest Path to Mount, where Laurel Bayes  
The Numbers crown that are divinely dressed.   

One while I sought in measures Comical  
To mask the Graces all upon the Stage;  
Or in a Tragic Scene up Ghosts to call  
Of Worthys slain by cruel Tyrant's rage:   

Anon I would the Union celebrate,  
Which made a Damask Rose of Red and White,  
The fairest Flower of Britons happy State;  
Which Roses then, now Kingdoms doth unite.   

I thought likewise to sing that happy Peace  
Our Iland-world enjoyeth by this Union,  
Which makes our honour, riches, strength increase,  
And have with Heavenly Arts such free communion.   

Then I th'admired Prudence would rehearse  
Of Britons Scepter-swaying Solomon,  
Matter which would immortalize a Verse,  
And save such Splendour from oblivion:   

Prone was my flesh the winged wag to sing  
Of wanton Venus, and her Bitter-sweet,  
That glads the Taste, but doth the Bowels wring  
For chaster ears a Subject far unmeet.   

Whilst wavering thus in fruitless inquisition,  
Yet vnresolved of any course I rove,  
Behold I see an heavenly Apparition,  
Some Herald doubtless from the Queen of Love;   

Her gesture and her grace Angelical,  
With wings whereby herself to heaven she rears,  
Her countenance fair, sweet, celestial,  
Her voice like Music of the heavenly Spheres.   

A glorious Garland crowned her golden head,  
Bedecked with all the Flowers, sweet, and gay,  
That could on Tempe's Plains be gathered,  
By learned Sisters in their fairest May.   

Immortal Flowers, which spring and flourish ay,  
And ay their verdure and sweet sent retain,  
Like heavenly Arts, which never do decay,  
But by their using greater glory gain.   

On shoulders hangs her azure mantle light,  
With silver spangles all adorned fair,  
Twinkling like brightest Stars in frosty night,  
As they are moved by the gentle air:   

Her neither parts to hide from vulgar eye  
A Kirtle like Heaven Conopy did cover;  
Where all the Signs of Heaven embroidered fly,  
And all the Graces seem about to hover.   

ay, saith she, am Urania to thee sent,  
From thine adored Mistress, Queen of Love;  
I ravish Souls above the Firmament,  
That they in Numbers like the Spheres may move.   

With Silver Key I do unlock the mind  
Of Mortals sealed up in Ignorance,  
That oft their Souls above the Stars they find,  
When Bodies lie on ground as in atrance.   

For I the Spirit am of Contemplation,  
Th' Ehxir of Ambrosia divine,  
Pure Angel's food, Souls sweetest delectation,  
The Helicon, where both the Sisters nine.   

Art teacheth Art, Experience Policy,  
And Practise guild's the tongue with Eloquence;  
But none reach lofty strains of Poesy,  
That have them not by heavenly insluence.   

Hence 'tis that Clerks which gain immortal praise,  
By their deep learned Eloquence in Prose,  
Their numbers cannot to such honour raise,  
As one that scarce the Rules of Grammar knows:   

It is beyond the reach of will or wit,  
A holy Flame of heavenly Love's pure fire,  
A soaring, high, transcendent, furious fit,  
Whose Life, light, heat, and strength love doth inspire.   

love's her Beginning, and her End is Love,  
Love is the Soul, and Life of Poesy;  
No Poem without Love did ever prove,  
No more than Music without Harmony.   

The Love of Honour, and of Chivalry,  
So raised the old blind Greeks Heroic quill; 
Homer.   
He lifts Achilles valiant acts more high,  
Than his that conquered all the world at will. 
Alexander.    

The love of Civil, and Self-government  
Him taught to frame such an exact Ulysses;  
That he who by this Pattern did invent,  
Rooms glorious author, such perfection misses. 
Aeneas. Virgil.    

Eglogues of Love are Muses first delights,  
Till through country pleasures she doth come,  
To sing in state of Honour, Arms, and Knights,  
And out of old Troy's ashes raise up Rome.   

The wanton, all whose speeches were in Verse,  
Who sings in Fictions all Dame nature's story; 
Ouid.   
In every sentence doth his Love rehearse,  
But ah base Lust obscureth all his glory.   

So loves old rigid Cato virtues lore,  
He makes them dance the measures cunningly;  
To loves Lucretius Dame nature's store,  
He turns all Pliny into Poetry.   

And as the object of our Love exceeds,  
So strikes the Muse on high or lower strings;  
Who lowly late did mask in Shepherd's weeds,  
In high Heroiques of Arms, and Honour sings. 
Spencer.    

My Darling Bartas, who on Angel's wings;  
Beholds the Six Day's of the World's Creation,  
Was so in love with Heaven and heavenly things,  
He wholly on them fixed his Contemplation.   

And when he on the Seventh Day comes to rest,  
He them all orders to his Maker's Glory:  
Doubtless he framed a new world in his breast,  
Whereof he so Divinely sings the story.   

It was this heavenly Love that did incite,  
The warlike Shepherd such sweet notes to sing, 
David.   
His love unto God's Statutes day and night,  
Do strike so loud his Harp and Viols string.   

And as Wind-Instrument to him repay's  
That sounds it sweetest, music, for his breath;  
So sings this Psalmist Hymns, and Heavenly Lays  
To him that gives him Spirit, till his Death.   

Oh heavenly Music, which, the rage could quell  
Of Cis his son, possessed with evil Spirit  
Pure Hymns from God, sweet mercy to compel,  
When foulest Sins Hell-fire do commerit.   

Sweet Shepherd, when thou singest forth thy Flocks,  
The Angels all admire thy heavenly Lays;  
Thy music moves, stones, trees, and senseless stocks,  
When thou divinest of Christ's most happy day's.   

Yet those hands that so gently touch a string,  
Can Lions, Bears, and Wolves in pieces tear;  
And quell the proud Philistine with a sling,  
From whom the Host of Israel runs for fear.   

Love at his birth him dandled in her Lap,  
Whilst all the Grace's Lullaby's do sing;  
She fed him with Ambrosia for Pap,  
And raised him from a Shepherd to a King.   

And thou my Son, although thy Breath be faint;  
I cannot but commend thy good desire,  
With their divine Essays thy Muse acquaint;  
Which may be fuel to thy heavenly fire.   

Yet though thou strain Invention, Art, and wits,  
And fills thy Verses with thy wisest Says,  
They shall not live, except some holy fits,  
Thy Soul above the heavens bright Tapers raise.   

Thy Soul whose Being is Celestial fire,  
Must like the Saints be rapt up in a trance;  
And extased with holiest desire,  
If thou thy Verse wouldst up to Heaven advance.   

For as none but the Spirit of a man,  
The secrets of that Spirit can disclose;  
So none attain sublimest numbers can,  
Except a holy Fury them compose.   

And as no Actor well can play the King,  
That is not one in his imagination:  
So none can Virtues pure Ideas sing,  
That suits his mind not to his meditation.   

Poets are like to Organs sounding shrill  
With fingers touch, so long as they be full:  
But as on empty ones; in vaines our skill,  
Even so are Verses, without Fury, dull.   

And as none on the Harp sweet tunes can sound,  
Till he by Art hath set in Tune each string;  
So none high-rapted numbers can compound,  
Till's soul be tuned by sphere-like ravishing.   

Sith then to Number's life from Heaven is sent,  
Oh rarest Spirits! how dare you abuse  
Them, to dishonour him, who hath them lent  
To's Glory, and your chaste delight to use?   

Shall your divinest spirits stoop so low,  
To make yourselves base slaves to Lust and Sin;  
And let your pure Pyrenean Fountains flow  
In stinking Channels all defiled within.   

Still will you fawn on Fools, and Greatness flatter?  
And fill the world with wanton idle groans?  
Still shall your Muse like Pies this one song chatter,  
Of Lust, which brings corruption to the bones?   

Is't not enough you burn in lustful flame,  
Except you eke corrupt youth prone to vice?  
And strumpet-like hang out your signs of shame,  
The Passengers to folly to entice?   

For numbers, notes, and tunes such power have,  
They soon on the noblest Spirits seize;  
Whereon they do their forms and sounds engrave;  
As Seals on wax imprinted are with ease.   

And that's the Reason, grave and wiser Sages,  
Have banished from their coasts lascivious rhymes,  
When Poets chaste and virtuous in all ages,  
Have been as Priests and Prophets in their times.   

Would you the Genius of your Fury raise,  
And change your fleshly to spiritual Flame,  
Such matter would immortalize your praise  
And leave behind you a most honoured name.   

Your Verse would be admired, you honoured  
As Secretarys to the King of Kings,  
For first the Prophet's words thus numbered,  
To handle mysteries and holy things.   

Thus David all his Psalms by measure sings,  
Moses the freedom from Egyptian thrall,  
And Miriam upon a Timbrel rings  
Gods Praises; judith the Assyrians fall.   

They sang for joy, but job, and jeremy  
Sing, when they with afflictions most are pressed;  
A Nunc Dimittis was the Poefie  
The Swanlike Simeon warbled in his breast:   

Magnificat the blessed Virgin sings;  
The Angels, Glory sing to God on high:  
And Martyrs, bound to stakes with Iron strings  
Sing Praises whilst in Flames their Body's fry▪   

So burns their zealous heat of Love's purefire,  
They feel no outward for the inward flame:  
So long as they have Bowels to respire  
They never cease to praise Gods holy name:   

But he that seems an Angel of the light,  
More easy children of the light ' tabuse,  
In Verse doth also his delusions write,  
And for his Oracles did numbers choose:   

And for he knows that Love's pure heavenly fire,  
Is that by which we Gods whole Law fulfil;  
His Prophets all must chant of Lust's desire,  
And make great jove be ruled by Cupid's will.   

Thus blood corrupt th'enchanter doth instill  
With lustful Fire to scaled youths hotter veins;  
And poisons with this Copperis the quill  
Of Heathen Poets, in their gentle strains.   

Who to make more authentic Ribaldry,  
Do feign their Gods therein to take delight,  
Where though they Nature's secrets wittily  
Oft veil! yet thus to Lust they youth invite.   

I know in first pure streams of Poesy,  
The Muse's Bath was chaste as Pheebes shrine,  
The Virgin Graces, Ioues chaste progeny,  
And Pallas chaste, and virtuous, as divine.   

Venus was then with Almas title graced,  
And loved her Spouse plain Vultan, Mars scarce knew:  
Whom though she oft in nuptial bed embraced,  
'twas not for wanton pleasure but for due.   

This Poetry, my Sons, revived again,  
To mortals would restore the golden times,  
And for your Brow's immortal Laurels gain,  
And to their ancient honour raise your Rhymes.   

But Satan since another pattern set,  
Which he would have all his to imitate;  
And like a Fowler draweth to his Net  
Poor Birds with merry notes and pleasing Bait.   

But thou that seekest God's Glory, not thine own,  
And strivest to quench, not quicken lustful Flame;  
Choose these divine ensamples I have shown,  
And gild not with fair words the foulest shame.   

When thou dost feel love's Fury in thy breast,  
What better theme or matter canst thou take;  
Than sing his Love who Heaven and Earth possessed,  
Yet here himself for Love a Slave did make.   

The Love between the Bridegroom and his Dear,  
Were matter to immortalize a Song:  
No Man or Angel ever yet did hear  
Diviner Music from a mortal tongue.   

This is a deep, broad, boundless Ocean;  
A high Parnassus of sweet Meditation;  
No holy Fury dive the bottom can,  
Nor reach the height thereofby contemplation.   

Soule-rapting Tunes: when Turtles voice doth sound  
The Songs of Zion, in a Holy Land.  
Sweet accents, making Hills and Mountains bound,  
And Cedars of the Forest trembling stand.   

This better will thy heart; every thy mind;  
Here profit thou shalt reap with sweet delight.  
Here thou refreshing Nectar-streames shalt find,  
To cool thy thirst, and clear thy dimmer sight.   

For thus thou safely mayst enjoy delight,  
The pleasure which shall last for evermore;  
Vain Worldly Pleasures leave men ere their night,  
But when the judgement comes, they run before.   

These heavenly precepts sweetened by her voice,  
So ravished my Soul with delectation:  
My Muse at quiet since doth sole rejoice,  
And take delight in heavenly contemplation.   

And though I never hope to touch with hand,  
Much less my head with Laurel Bough adorn,  
May I yet mine own Passions thus command  
My Cost and Tilt's short of my Crop of Corne.   
FINIS.   

The Author's Vow or wish, at the Consecration of a Chapel newly founded by the Right Honourable WILLIAM Lord Maynard, at his House in Eston in Essex.  

LEt others heap up Titles, Lands, and store,  
Their names on earth, for ever to maintain!  
Thou to thy house dost surer honour gain,  
By adding of this Consecrated Floor:  
Where Thou and Thine may ever him adore  
That Proud throws down, and Humble men doth raise,  
Thy Father built the Palace in his day's,  
But leaves God's house unto his prudent Son;  
Who Numa-like now plants Religion,  
Where Romulus the first Foundation lays.   

This Leaven makes the whole Lump to endure,  
Shis' Salt to Thee and Thine shall season all,  
And 'gainst thy Foes shall be a Brazen Wall:  
This shall Thee waking keep most safe and sure,  
And nigh this Altar thou shalt sleep secure:  
By this Thy Honour ay continue shall,  
And Blessed make Thy Names memorial:  
(Alas! this world's vain, seeming, glittering Glory  
Is lubrike, full of hazard, transitory)  
What's built on this Foundation cannot fall.   

So long as Zion's Temple's undefiled,  
The line of David doth the Sceptre sway;  
But suddenly are captive led away,  
When Altars they with Idols had defiled;  
Wherefore they wise did God's house rebuild,  
When out of Babylon they were translated:  
Then since Thou wisely has determinated  
Thine House and Honour by God's Church to raise;  
He Blissing send, so long as You him praise,  
So may both stand for ay unruinated!   

Be it like Zion's Mount inaugurated,  
Which is by Zion's MOUNTAIGNE Consecrated!    

The Muse's Health, To the Right Honourable, WLLIAM, Lord Maynard, at the Consecration of his Chapel at Eston Lodge in Essex.  

THis building thus adorned, and raised in state,  
Shall now be made a Chapel consecrate:  
Emblem of Adam, whom as God did roll  
First up in clay, next breathed a living soul,  
So to these fair materials preparation,  
A Spirit shall be given by Consecration:  
Not stolen from jupiter, (as ports tell  
Prometheus did, for which he hangs in Hell:)  
Nor yet a spark of strange or common fire,  
Which brought on Aaron's sons consuming ire;  
But coals on Gods own Altar kindled,  
By right succession to us fostered:  
The sum is, that, the Bishop doth inspire  
Into this Edifice an holy fire;  
A living flame, which never shall go out,  
So long as they, which tend it are devout:  
But aye, thereby shall safe and quiet rest,  
As swallows which beside is build their nest.  
Oh may this fire within these walls endure,  
So long as Neptune's waves this I'll immure:  
And as from Mountains comes that wholesome breath,  
Which healthful makes the Valleys all beneath:  
So from this 
* Bishop Montaigne  MONTAIGNE health come and salvation,  
Unto the Founder, and his generation:  
Let Prophets, Priests, in Prayers all combine  
To make this House a Bliss to Thee and Thine:  
And when by their devotions join, this flame  
Is kindled; let thy Priests maintain the same  
And offer up thy prayers day and night,  
Like fumes of Incense, in th' Almighty's sight;  
Oh force united, of a Congregation  
That join in prayer at a Consecration;  
With these my Muse (now thine) shall bear a part,  
And whilst they pray by book, she'll pray by hart.   
FINIS.   

THE CONVERTS CONQUEST.  PSAL. 119. V. Ultimo. I have gone astray like a sheep that is lost: oh seek thy servant, for I do not forget thy Commandments. 
LONDON, Printed by WILLIAM STANSBY. 1625.   

TO THE MOST SINCERELY, RELIGIOUS, AND TRULY Virtuous: Mistress SARAH ARGAL, Wife to JOHN ARGAL of Badew Esquire.  

Lest I be deemed a thief, I will disclose;  
I turned to Verse what you gave me in Prose:  
In so few lines I never yet did find  
More heavenly Comforts to a grieved mind:  
Man's sinful Heart, Hell's Malice, Grace divine,  
Is intermixed so in every Line.  
I praise God, I this speak with feeling Sense,  
God grant the Reader like experience!  
Good published, doth more good, by being known,  
Wherein I seek God's glory, not mine own:  
Of Reading and of Writing's but one end,  
Repent, believe, for sake Sin and amend.   
Your true unfeigned Friend,  
R. A.   

THE CONVERTS CONQUEST.  

ACertaine Christian which had often been  
Tempted, and by his weakness overtaken  
To his great sorrow, with oneself same sin,  
At last sat down as if he were forsaken;  
Where of sins bondage first he doth complain,  
And then himself thus comforteth again:   

From my all-seeing God I cannot fly,  
Still in my loathed sins I may not lie;  
Yet ought I not of mercy to despair,  
Yet dare I not for Grace to God repair▪  
Pray would I, but I cannot it intend;  
Repent I do, but not my life amend:  
I to believe desirous am, yet doubt,  
In this lewd wicked custom holding out;  
God is by me dishonoured, whilst I  
Profess to serve him true and faithfully:  
Displesed, whilst I provoke him to his face;  
Both grieved and quenched is his Spirit of Grace;  
His Graces I abated, withered, find,  
My sense benumbed; besotted is my mind,  
My memory dulled, more strong grows Satan's dart,  
My soul's adventred, hardened is my hart;  
I grow in Sin rich, poor in Goodness, Grace,  
My head's vexed, Conscience is in woeful case;  
My calling stained, cracked credit, Time mispended,  
My strength consumed, and my God offended:  
As doth my sin, my burden doth increase;  
My pain's enlarged, troubled is my peace.  
I sigh, but sorrow not aright, would fain  
Be rid of it, but soon return again:  
I grieve, not weep; Lord! could I from it part,  
Forsake, confess it with a broken hart.   

How far adventure, Lord! how long shall I  
Dare to provoke thy powerful Majesty?  
How long shall he forbear? how often might  
He cut me off? Or suddenly dead smite,  
How long shall he chastise me, yet in vain?  
At length, O Lord, be merciful again:  
Oh tarry not, Lord, tarry not too long,  
But make my resolution firm and strong.   

Oh loathsomeness, deceitfulness of sin,  
Sweetness, and bitterness we find therein;  
Beginnings, fawn, growing, terror, smart,  
Faith's weakness; Satan's envy, Man's false heart:  
When shall I now these? Oh that I could know  
Them better, Lord! by far than yet I do:  
Yet wish (though much ashamed thus to be tainted)  
I were not as I am with them acquainted.   

What shall I do? Go on! Nay, God defend!  
Shall I retire? Stand idle? Not amend?  
Shall I despair? Why so? Have my sins quite  
Dried up God's mercies which are infinite?  
Such thing to think, were cursed Blasphemy,  
Who succours all that are in misery:  
Will not God hear what I in Faith desire?  
Humbled with Grief? Then make I him a Liar.  
Shall I presume yet longer? Ah I have  
Presumed too much: Oh let me mercy crave,  
By true Repentance, and abundant tears;  
What is thy heart so hardened, as it fears  
It never can be mollified again?  
Then God's Omnipotence thou dost restrain:  
What? Hath this thing without God come to pass?  
Hath Satan got the Victory? Alas!  
Is not th'almighty far north strong than he?  
Hath not my Lord, Christ jesus died for me?  
Hath God ere loved thee? Sure he once me loved,  
For than I it by good experience proved;  
Then loves he still, for where he doth begin  
He loves for ever, and his gifts have been  
Without Repentance: he for me destryed  
And vanquished Death, Sin, Satan when he died.   

O Lord increase my faith, why should not I  
Believe in him, obey him willingly?  
How fain would I believe, and him obey;  
How fame would I repent, amend, and pray:  
I cannot then conclude, nor will, nor dare,  
That I am damned, for these desires sure are  
The motions of God's Spirit in me indeed;  
Who neither smoking flax, nor bruised reed  
Will quench, or break, But all will satisfy  
Who thirst and hunger after equity.   

Blessed ever be his name who hath begun,  
To make me Conqueror through Christ his Son.  
By his assistance gracious, than I Vow  
To serve God better than I have, till now,  
On his behests more carefully attend,  
Thy Grace me strengthen, as a shield defend.   

Satan avoid, thou hast in me no part,  
From the beginning thou a Liar art;  
Before and after mine, in Adam's fall,  
Thou to deceive me practisest in all:  
But God is true, just, merciful to me  
In jesus Christ his blessed Son and he,  
For honour of his Name and Majesty,  
Will do away all mine iniquity:  
So as the sift here of Satan shall  
Not turn to my destruction; But they all  
God's Grace in me shall further magnify  
And bind me to him more assuredly;  
More he forgives, the greater is his grace,  
Him faster we with Love in Christ embrace.  
Henceforth my soul remember well, what gain  
Thou reaped haste, and oft mayst reap again,  
By that whereof thou justly art ashamed,  
For which thy Name and Conscience now is blamed.   

Restore me to the joy of thy Salvation,  
Which better is then joys continuation;  
For by the want, the worth discern we may,  
And be stirred up more earnestly to pray.   
FINIS.