A GODLY DREAM, Compiled by Elizabeth Melvill, Lady Culros younger, at the request of a Friend.  Introite per angustam portam: nam lata est via quae ducit ad interitum. 
AH  
EDINBURGH, Imprinted by Andro heart, ANNO DOM, 1620.   

A GODLY DREAM.  

Upon a day, as I did mourn full sore,  
For sundry things wherewith my soul was grieved,  
My grief increased, and grew more and more:  
I comfort fled, & could not be relieved,  
With heaviness my heart was so mischieved:  
I loathed my life, I could not eat nor drink:  
I might not speak, nor look to none that lived,  
But mused alone, and diverse things did think.   

This wretched world did so molest my mind,  
I thought upon this false and Iron age:  
And how our hearts were so to vice inclined,  
That Satan seemed most fearfully to rage,  
Nothing on earth my sorrow could asswadge:  
I felt my sin most strongly to increase,  
I grieved the Spirit, that wont to be my pledge,  
My soul was plunged into most deep distress.   

All merriness did aggravate my pain,  
And earthly joys did still increase my woe:  
In company I could no wise remain,  
But fled resort, and so alone did go.  
My silly soul was tossed to and fro  
With sundry thoughts, which troubled me full sorè:  
I pressed to pray, but sighs our set me so,  
I could do nought, but groan, and say no more.   

The trickling tears abundantly ran down:  
Mine heart was eased when I had mourned my fill.  
Then I began my Lamentation,  
And said, O Lord, how long is it thy will,  
That thy poor Saints shall be afflicted still?  
Alas! How long shall subtle Satan rage?  
Make haste, O Lord, thy promise to fulfil:  
Make haste to end our painful Pilgrimage.   

Thy silly Saints are tossed to and fro:  
Awake, O Lord, why sleepest thou so long?  
We have no strength against our cruel foe,  
In sighs and sobs now changed is our song.  
The World prevails, our enemies are strong.  
The Wicked rage, but we are poor and weak.  
O! show thyself, with speed revenge our wrong.  
Make short these days, even for thy Chosens sake.   

Lord jesus come and save thine own Elect,  
For Satan seeks our simple souls to stay.  
The wicked World doth strongly us infect:  
Most monstrous sins increase do day by day.  
Our loves grows cold, our zeal is worn away:  
Our faith is failed, and we are like to fall.  
The Lion roars, to catch us as a prey:  
Make haste, O Lord, before we perish all.   

These are the days, which thou so long foretold,  
Should come before this wretched world should end  
Now Vice abounds, and Charity grows cold:  
And even thine own most strongly do offend:  
The Devil prevails, his forces he doth bend,  
If it could be to wrack thy Children dear:  
But we are thine, therefore some succour send:  
Receive our souls, we weary wand'ring here.   

What can we do? we clogged are with sin,  
In filthy vice our senseless souls are drowned.  
Though we resolve, we never can begin,  
T'amend our lives, but sin doth still abound.  
When wilt thou come? when shall thy trumpet sound?  
When shall we see that great and glorious Day?  
O save us, Lord, out of that pit profound,  
And reave us from that loathsome lump of clay.   

Thou know'st our hearts, thou seest our whole desire,  
Our secret thoughts they are not hid from thee.  
Though we offend, thou know'st we strangely tyre.  
To bear this weight, our spirit would fain be free.  
Alas, O Lord, what pleasure can it been,  
To live in sin? that sore doth press us down.  
Oh! give us wings, that we aloft may fly,  
And end the sight, that we may wear the crown.   

Before the Lord when I had thus complained,  
My mind grew calm, mine heart was then at rest:  
Though I was faint, from food yet I refrainde,  
And went to Bede, because I thought it best.  
With heaviness my spirit was sore oppressed.  
I fell on sleep: And so again me thought,  
I made my moan: and so my grief increased:  
And from the Lord with tears I secure sought.   

Lord jesus, come, said I, and end our grief,  
My spirit is vexed, the captive would be free.  
All vice abounds, now send us some relief.  
I loathe to live, I wish dissolved to be.  
My spirit doth long, and thirsteth after thee.  
As thirsty ground requires a shower of rain,  
Mine heart is dry: as fruitless barren free  
I feel myself: How can I here remain?   

With sighs and sobs as I did solament,  
Into my dream I thought there did appear,  
A sight most sweet, which did me well content,  
An Angel bright, with visage shining clear,  
With loving looks, and with a smiling cheer:  
He asked me, Why art thou thus so sad?  
Why groan'st thou so? what dost thou dwining here,  
With careful cries, in this thy bailfull Bed?   

I hear thy sighs, I see thy trickling tears,  
Thou seemst to be in some perplexity:  
What mean thy moans: what is that thing thou fears?  
Whom would thou have, in what place would thou be?  
Faint not so fast in thine adversity.  
Mourn not so sore, sith mourning may not mend:  
Lift up thine heart declare thy grief to me,  
Perchance thy pain brings pleasure in the end.   

I sighed again, and said, Alas, for woe,  
My grief is great, I can it not declare:  
Into this earth I wander to and fro.  
A Pilgrim poor, consumed with sighing sore.  
My sins, alas, increase do more and more.  
I loathe my life, I weary wand'ring here,  
I long for Heaven, mine Heritage is there.  
I long to live with my Redeemer dear.   

Is this the cause? said he rise up anon,  
And follow me, and I shall be thy guide:  
And from thy sighs leave off, thine heavy moan:  
Refrain from tears, and cast thy care aside:  
Trust in my Strength and in my Word confide,  
And thou shalt have thine heavy heart's desire:  
Rise up with speed, I may not long abide,  
Great diligence this matter doth require.   

My soul rejoced to hear his sword so sweet,  
I looked up, and saw his Face most fair:  
His countenate revived my weary spirit,  
Incontinent I cast aside my care:  
With humble heart I prayed him to declare  
What was his Name? He answered me again,  
I am thy God, for whom thou sighest so sore,  
I now am come, thy tears are not in vain.   

I am the Way, I am the Truth, and Life,  
I am thy spouse, that brings thee store of grace:  
I am thy Lord, that soon would end thy strife,  
I am thy Love, whom thou wouldst fain embrace.  
I am thy joy, I am thy rest and peace:  
Rise up anon, and follow after me,  
I shall thee lead into thy dwelling place,  
The Land of rest, thou longest so sore to see.   

With joyful heart I thanked him again,  
Ready am I, said I, and well content,  
To follow thee; for here I live in pain:  
A wretch unworth, my days are vainly spent:  
Not one is just, but all are fiercely bend,  
To run to vice. I have no force to stand,  
My sins increase, which makes me sore lament:  
Make haste, O Lord, I long to see that Land.   

Thine haste is greaf, he answered me again:  
Thou thinkst thee there, thou art transported so.  
That pleasant place must purchased be with pain,  
The way is straight, and thou hast far to go.  
Art thou contenttd wander to and fro?  
Through great Deserts, through water, & through fire?  
Through thorns and briers, and many dangers more?  
What sayest thou now? Thy feeble flesh will tyre.   

Alas, said I, although my flesh be weak,  
My spirit is strong, and willing for to fly.  
O leave me not, but for thy mercy's sake  
Perform thy word, or else for dole I die.  
I fear no pain, since I should walk with thee:  
The way is long, yet bring me through at last,  
Thou answer'st well, I am content, said he,  
To be thy guide, but see thou gripe me fast   

Then up I rose, and made no more delay,  
My feeble arms about his neck I cast:  
He went before, and still did guide the way,  
Though I was weak, my spirit did follow fast,  
Through moss & mire, through ditches deep we passed,  
Through pricking thorns, through water & through fire,  
Through dreadful dens, he made mine heart aghast:  
He bore me up, when I began to fire.   

Sometime we clamb on craigie mountains hie,  
And sometime slaide on ugly brays of sand:  
They were so stay, that wonder was to see.  
But when I feared, he held me by the hand,  
Through thick & thin through sea, & eke through land:  
Through great Deserts we wandered on our way.  
When I was weak, and had no strength to stand,  
Yet with a look he did refresh me aye.   

Through waters great we were compelled to wade,  
Which were so deep, that I was like to drown:  
Sometime I sank; but yet my gracious guide  
Did draw me up half dead, and in a swowne.  
In Woods most wild, and far from any Town,  
We thrusted through, the Briers together stack:  
I was so weak, their strength did beat me down,  
That I was forced for fear to flee aback.   

Courage, said he, thou art midway and more:  
Thou mayst not tyre, nor turn aback again.  
Hold fast thy gripe, on me cast all thy care:  
Assay thy strength, thou shalt not fight in vain.  
I told thee first, That thou shouldst suffer pain.  
The nearer Heaven, the harder is the way.  
Lift up your heart, and let your hope remain,  
Since I am guide thou shalt not go astray.   

Forward we passed, on narrow brigs of tree,  
Over waters great, which hiddeoustie did roar.  
There lay below that fearful was to see,  
Most ugly Beasts, which gaped to devour.  
Mine head grew light, and troubled very sore:  
Mine heart did fear, my feet began to slide:  
But when I cried he heard me evermore,  
And helped me up: O blessed be my Guide.   

Weary I was, and thought to sit at rest:  
But he said, Nay, thou mayst not sit nor stand.  
Hold on thy course, and thou shalt find it best,  
If thou desirst to see that pleasant land.  
Though I was weak, I rose at his command,  
And held him fast. At length he let me see  
That pleasant place, that seemed to be at hand,  
Take courage now, for thou art near, said he.   

I looked up into that Castle fair,  
Glistering like Gold, and shining Silver bright.  
The stately Tower did mount above the air:  
They blinded me, they cast so great a light.  
Mine heart was glad to see that joyful sight.  
My voyage than I thought was not in vain:  
I him besought to guide me there aright,  
With many vows, Never to tyre again.   

Though thou be near, the way is very hard,  
Said he again, therefore thou must be stout:  
Faint not for fear, for cowards are debarred,  
That have none heart to go their voyage out.  
Pluck up thine heart, and gripe me fast about,  
Out through this trance together we must go:  
The way is low, remember for to lout,  
If this were passed, we have not many more.   

I held him fast, as he did give command,  
And through the trance together then we went:  
Where in the mides great pricks of Iron did stand:  
Wherewith my feet were all betorne and rent.  
Take courage now, said he and been content  
To suffer this, the pleasure comes at last.  
I answered not but ran incontinent  
Out over the fire, and so the pain was passed.   

When this was done, mine heart did dance for joy,  
I was so near, I thought my voyage ended:  
I ran before, and sought not his convoy.  
Nor asked the way, because I thought I knew it.  
On stately steps, most stoutly I ascended.  
Without his help I thought to enter there.  
He followed fast, and was right sore offended,  
And hastily did draw me down the stair.   

What hast? said he, Why ran thou so before?  
Without mine help thinkest thou to climb to high?  
Come down again, thou yet must suffer more,  
If thou desirest that dwelling place to see,  
This stately stair, it was not made for thee:  
Hold'st thou that course, thou shalt be thrust aback.  
Alas, said I, long wand'ring wearied me,  
Which made me run, the nearest way to take.   

Then he began to comfort me again,  
And said, My friend, thou must not enter there:  
Lift up thine heart, thou yet must suffer pain,  
The last assault of force it must be sore.  
This goodly way, although it seem so fair,  
It is too high, thou canst not climb so stay:  
But look below, beneath a stately stair,  
And thou shalt see another kind of way.   

I looked down, and saw a pit most black,  
Most full of smoke, and flaming fire most fell.  
That ugly sight made me to flee aback:  
I feared to hear so many shout and yell.  
ay him besought, that he the truth would tell:  
Is this, said I, the Papists purging place?  
Where they affirm, that silly souls do dwell,  
To purge their sins, before they rest in peace.   

The brain of man most warely did invent,  
That purging place, he answered me again:  
For greediness together they consent,  
To say, That souls in torments must remain,  
While gold and goods relieve them of their pain.  
O spiteful spirits, which did the same begin!  
O blinded Beasts! your thoughts are all in vain:  
By Blood alone did cleanse the soul from sin.   

This pit is Hell; where through thou now must go:  
There is the way that leads thee to thy Land.  
Now play the man: thou néedst not tremble so,  
For I shall help and hold thee by the hand.  
Alas, said I, I have no force to stand,  
For fear I faint, to see that ugly sight.  
How can I come amongst that bailfull band?  
Oh, help me now, I have no force nor might.   

Oft have I heard, That they that enter here,  
In this great gulf, shall never come again.  
Courage, said he, have I not bought thee dear?  
My precious Blood it was not shed in vain,  
I saw this place, my soul did taste this pain,  
Ere ever I went into my Fathers glore.  
Through must thou go, but thou shalt not remain,  
Thou néedst not fear, for I shall go before.   

I am content to do thy whole command,  
Said I again, and did him fast embrace:  
Then lovingly he held me by the hand,  
And in we went into that fearful place.  
Hold fast thy gripe, said he, in any case.  
Let me not slip what ever thou shalt see:  
Dread not the death, but stoutly forward preásse,  
For death nor hell shall never vanquish thee.   

His words so sweet did cheer mine heavy heart,  
Incontinent I cast my care aside.  
Courage, said he, play not a coward's part:  
Though thou be weak, yet in my strength confide.  
I thought me blest, to have so good a guide.  
Though I was weak, I knew that he was strong.  
Under his wings I thought me for to hide,  
If any there should preasie to do me wrong.   

Into that pit when I did enter in,  
I saw a sight, which made mine heart aghast:  
Poor damned souls, tormented sore for sin,  
In flaming fire were frying verte fast:  
And ugly spirits. And as I had them past.  
Mine heart grew faint, and I began to tirè.  
Ere I was ware one gripped me at last.  
And held me high above a flaming fire.   

The fire was great, the heat did pierce me sore,  
My faith grew weak, my gripe was very small:  
I trembled fast, my fear grew more and more.  
Mine hands did shake, that I him held withal.  
At length they loosed: then I began to fall,  
And cried aloud, and caught him fast again.  
Lord jesus, come, and rid me out of thrall.  
Courage, said he, now thou art passed the pain.   

With this great fear I started, and awoke▪  
Crying aloud, Lord jesus, come again.  
But after that no kind of rest I took:  
I pressed to sleep, but it was all in vain.  
I would have dreamed of pleasure after pain,  
Because I know I shall it find at last.  
God grant my Guide may still with me remain:  
It is to come that I believed was past.   

This is a Dream, and yet I thought it best,  
To write the same and keep it still in mind:  
Because I knew there was none earthly rest  
Prepared for us, that have our hearts inclined  
To seek the Lord: we must be purged and find:  
Our dross is great, the fire must try us sore.  
And yet our God is merciful and kind,  
He shall remain, and help us evermore.   

The way to Heaven, I see, is very hard:  
My Dream declares, that we have far to go.  
We must be stout, for cowards are debarred.  
Our flesh of force must suffer pain and wo.  
These dreary ways, and many dangers more.  
Await for us: we can not live in rest.  
But let us learn, since we are warned so.  
To cleave to Christ, for he can help us best.   

O silly souls, with pain so sore oppressed,  
That love the Lord, and long for Heaven so high:  
Change not your minds, for ye have chose the best.  
Prepare yourselves, for troubled must ye been.  
Faint not for fear in your adversity:  
It is the way that leads you unto life.  
Suffer a while, and ye shall shortly see  
The Land of rest, when ended is your strife.   

In Wilderness ye must be tried a while.  
Yet forward press, and never flee aback:  
Like Pilgrims poor, and Strangers in exile.  
Through fair and foul your journey ye must take,  
The Devil, the World, and all that they can make,  
Will send their force to stop you in the way:  
Your flesh will faint, and sometime will grow stack,  
Yet come to Christ, and he shall help you aye.   

The thorny cares of this deceitful life,  
Will reut your hearts and make your souls to bleed:  
Your flesh and spirit will be at deadly strife,  
Your cruel foe will hold you still in dread,  
And throw you down, yet rise again with speed.  
And though ye fall, yet lie not loitering still:  
But call on Christ, to help you in your need,  
Who will not fail his promise to fulfil.   

In floods of woe when ye are like to drown,  
Yet climb to Christ, and gripe him very fast:  
And though ye sink, and in the deep fall down,  
Yet cry aloud, and he will hear at last.  
Dread not the death nor been not sore aghast,  
Though all the earth against you should conspire,  
Christ is your guide: and when your pain is past,  
Yée shall have joy above your heart's desire.   

Though in this earth ye shall exalted be,  
Fear shall be left, to humble you withal:  
For if ye climb on tops of Mountains high:  
The higher up, the nearer is your fall:  
Your honey sweet shall mixed be with gall.  
Your short delight shall end with pain and grief.  
Yet trust in God, for his assistance call:  
And he shall help, and send you soon relief.   

Though waters great do compass you about,  
Though Tyrants threat, though Lion's rage & roar,  
Defy them all, and fear not to win out:  
Your Guide is near, to help you evermore,  
Though pricks of iron do prick you very sore,  
As noisome luttes, which seek your souls to stay:  
Yet cry on Christ, and he shall go before:  
The nearer Heaven, the harder is the way.   

Run out your race, ye must not faint nor tyre,  
Nor sit, nor stand, nor turn aback again,  
If ye intent to have your heart's desire.  
Press forward still, although it were with pain:  
No rest for you, so long as ye remain,  
As Pilgrims poor, into this loathsome life.  
Fight out your fight, it shall not be in vain,  
Your rich reward is worth a greater strife.   

If after tears ye live a while in joy,  
And get a taste of that Eternal glore,  
Been not secure, nor slip not your convoy:  
For if ye do, ye shall repent it sore.  
He knows the way, and he shall go before.  
Climb you alone, ye shall not miss a fall.  
Your filthy flesh, it must be troubled more,  
If ye forget upon your God to call.   

If Christ been gone although ye seem to fly,  
With golden wings, above the Firmament:  
Come down again, ye shall not better been:  
That pride of yours ye shall right sore repent.  
Then hold him fast, with humble heart aye bend.  
To follow him, although through Hell and Death,  
He went before his soul was torn and rend,  
For your deserts, he felt his Father's wrath.   

Though in the end ye suffer torments fell,  
Cleave fast to him, that felt the same before:  
The way to Heaven, must be through death and hell.  
The last assault will trouble you full sore.  
The Lion then most cruelly will roar:  
His time is short, his forces he will bend.  
The greater strife, the greater is your glore:  
Your pain is short, your joy shall never end.   

Rejoice in God, let not your courage fail,  
Yée chosen Saints, that are afflicted here.  
Though Satan rage, he never shall prevail.  
Fight to the end, and stoutly persevere:  
Your God is true, your blood is to him dear.  
Fear not the way, since Christ is your convoy.  
When clouds are past, the weather will grow clear:  
Ye sow in tears, but ye shall reap in joy.   

But death and hell have lost their cruel sting,  
Your Captain Christ hath made them all to yield.  
Lift up your hearts, and praises to him sing:  
Triumph for joy, your enemies are killed.  
The Lord of Hosts, that is your Strength & Shield,  
The Serpent's head hath stoutly trodden down:  
Trust in his strength, pass forward in the field:  
Over come in fight, and ye shall wear the crown.   

The King of kings, if he been on our side,  
We need not fear: who dare against us stand?  
Into the field may we not boldly hide,  
When he shall help us with his mightis' hand?  
Who sits above, and rules both Sea and Land:  
Who with his breath doth make the hills to shake:  
The Hosts of Heaven are armed at his command,  
To fight the field, when we appear most weak.   

Pluck up your hearts, ye are not left alone,  
The Lamb of God shall lead you in the way:  
The Lord of Hosts, that reigns on royal Throne,  
Against your foes his Banner will display,  
The Angels bright shall stand in good array,  
To hold you up: ye need not fear to fall,  
Your enemies shall flee, and been your prey:  
Yée shall triumph, and they shall perish all.   

The joy of Heaven is worth a moment's pain:  
Take courage then lift up your hearts on high.  
To judge the Earth when Christ shall come again,  
Above the clouds ye shall exalted been.  
A Crown of joy, and true Felicity,  
Awaits for you, when finished is your fight.  
Suffer a while, and ye shall shortly see,  
A Glore most great, and infinite of weight.   

Prepare yourselves, been valiant men of war,  
And thrust with force out through the narrow way:  
Hold on your course, and shrink not back for fear,  
Christ is your guide, ye shall not go astray.  
The time is near, been sober, watch, and pray,  
He sees your tears, and he hath laid in store,  
A rich reward, which in that joyful day,  
Yée shall receive, and reign for evermore.   

Now to the King that create all of nought;  
The Lord of Lords, that rules both land and sea:  
That saved our souls, and with his blood us bought,  
And vanquished Death, triumphing on a Tree:  
Unto the great and glorious Trinity,  
That saves the Poor, and doth his own defend:  
Been Laud and Glore, Honour and Majesty,  
Power and Praise: Amen, World without end.   
FINIS.   

A VERY COMFORTABLE SONG.  
To the tune of Shall I let her go?  

AWay vain World, bewitcher of mine heart:  
My sorrow shows, my sins make me to smart.  
Yet will I not despair, But to my God repair:  
He hath mercy aye, Therefore will I pray:  
He hath mercy aye, and loves me,  
Though by his humbling hand he proves me.   

Away, away, too long thou hast me snared,  
I will not lose more time, I am prepared:  
Thy subtle sleights so slay, They have deceived me:  
Though they sweetly smile. Smoothly they beguile,  
Though they sweetly smile, Suspect them:  
The simple sort they file, Reject them.   

Once more, away, shows loath the world to leave,  
Bids oft, away, with her that holds me slave.  
Loath I am to forgo, That sweet alluring foe:  
Since thy ways are vain, Shall I them detain?  
Since thy ways are vain. I quite thee:  
Thy pleasures shall no more delight me.   

A thousand times, away, o: stay no more.  
Sweet Christ me save, lest subtle sin devour.  
Without thine helping hand, I have no force to stand.  
Lest I turn aside, Let thy grace me guide:  
Lest I turn aside, Draw near me,  
And when I call for help, Lord, hear me.   

What shall I do? Are all my pleasures past?  
Shall worldly lusts now take their leave at last?  
Yea, Christ these earthly toys, Shall turn to heavenly joys:  
Let the world be gone, I'll love Christ alone:  
Let the world he gone, I care not,  
Christ is my Lord alone, I fear not.   
FINIS.   
Psal. 51. verse. 10. Create in me a clean heart, O God, and renew a right spirit within me. 

DEUS NON DESPICIES F·W COR CONTRITUM ET HUMILIATUM   Vers. 17. The sacrifices of God are a contrite spirit: A contrite and a broken heart, O God, thou wilt not despise.