Seven satires Applied to the week, including the world's ridiculous follies. True felicity described in the Phoenix. Maulgre. Whereunto is annexed the wandering Satire.  
By W. Rankins, Gent.  
Imprinted at London by Edw. Allde for William Ferbrand: and are to be sold at his shop in Lothbury, at the hither end of Colman street. 1598.   

To his noble minded friend john Salisbury of LLe●…enni, Esquire of the body to the Queen's most excellent Majesty.  
WHo bites his lip, when his folly is bitten, hath either envy in his heart, or suspicion in his head: whom I esteem as 〈◊〉 I●…ans, do●… 〈◊〉 hedge-bred Serpents, tread on their backs, and pull out their stings. But of your worthy self, (whose censure virtue will singularly sentence) I crave an eye cast to these rough cast satires, which are not absurded (though somewhat rustically mustered) whose never forgotten favours I fling up, not down, in challenge of all witless unarmed heedp●…ces.  
The true affectionate lover of your virtues. W. Rank●…ns.   


Induction.  

OF Love, of Courtships and of fancy's force,  
Some gilded Braggadochio may discourse:  
My shaggy satires do forsake the woods,  
Their beds of moss, their unfrequented floods.  
Their Marble cells, their quiet forest life,  
To view the manner of this human strife.  
Whose skin is touched, and will in gall revert,  
My satires vow to gall them at the heart.    

〈◊〉 satires applied to the week.  
satire. primus. Contra Lunatistam.  

FRom woods, to wood and mad conceited men,  
That with the Moon participate their mind,  
I leave my hollow vast desertful den,  
To tell them the derision of their kind.  
What fond affects what sudden change I find:  
How Proteus-like, they change their peevish shape,  
Yet dare for honours constant guerdon gape.   

And are they stable in their lustful work,  
And still in complete fullness of desire:  
And as the Tortoise in the mud doth lurk,  
And will not to the labouring streams retire,  
Nor to the banks of wholesome herbs aspire;  
Yet if she see the glimmering of the Sun,  
Contents a while her ugly cell to shun.   

So these self soothing sots that hide ●…heir heads  
In idiotism and ignorances shame,  
Their thick scaled fins in brightest glory spread,  
To get the prize when others win the game,  
They have no firmer virtue than a name:  
But who so thinks the sign the substance is,  
Errs, and his wit doth wander much amiss.   

And as the weather so their worth doth turn,  
Sometime a red, sometime an ashy pale,  
Anon like ice, anon like lightnings burn,  
Forthwith foreshowing storms to every sale,  
Next night forefiguring a merry gale,  
Disposed like the Moon, their mother's glory,  
The vainest Planet, and most transitory.   

And as the serpent shows her speckled breast,  
When as the eye of heaven is in his height,  
Advancing up her green envenomed crest:  
Increasing malice by the midday light,  
And hides her foul shape in a frosty night.  
So do these fickle peasants prate and lie,  
Till adverse darkness vales prosperity.   

I separate the Drone from honey Bees,  
I carp not at the fewer virtuous sort,  
I shake the Oak, as well as lower trees:  
If Caterpillars taint it with resort,  
I am a Satire savage is my sport.  
So ending here my immelodious song,  
I bid him mend that thinks he hath the wrong.    

satire. secundus. Contra Martialistam.  

FRom the proud counsel of contrarious winds,  
That keep their surly Court on mountain tops,  
I roughly come: deceptions to unbind,  
And scatter in your eyes the upstart crops  
That true borne valour from the Cedar lops:  
To tell how Mars with his stout crew is wronged,  
By apish toys and what to dolts belonged.   

He that can wear a feather all a flaunt,  
Speak in the teeth, and make a verjuice face,  
And with a pride his stubble beard but vaunt,  
As if in him abounded all good grace,  
Or were descended from Ioues Princely race:  
That hath but set his foot on Calais sand,  
And swear he fought with monsieur hand to hand.   

I, and perchance in Court hath cracked a kixe,  
And thinks he hath Bellona at command,  
And in his bosom bears his amorous tricks,  
As if loves passion brought him into band,  
When lo in Misars' plight the wretch doth stand:  
Loathed of the wise, not loved of his own,  
Yea fools do see the fool himself in moan.   

Avers his courage conquered Cannas' field,  
And that his arm can wield great Neptune's mace  
Swears he will make the haughty foe to yield,  
And couch like vassals when they view his face,  
What would this Ass do in a lions case?  
So looking big cries out upon S. George,  
To tippling goes and fills his eager gorge.   

What is he like but to a sucking child,  
Who imitates to speak by elder talk?  
But of plain words the youngling is beguiled:  
Because he speaks before his feet can walk,  
Yet in Alcides' buskins will he stalk.  
Then first get teeth, speak plain, & learn the word  
And time (perhaps) will teach thee draw a sword.   

And though my brows are Satyre-like betwist,  
With wormwood garland, not with laurel crown,  
Yet do I not true martialists resist:  
Nor can I scandalise their high renown,  
That Bulwark is too strong to batter down.  
But to these straggling humor-pleased mates  
I speak, and know that truth the liar hates.    

satire. tertius. Contra Mercurialistam.  

LIght footed Fauni for a while farewell,  
Nimble companions in our Sylvan court,  
I go where subtlety and craft do dwell,  
Where wise supposed Orators resort,  
Where wizards of sweet Art do make a sport.  
Where golden Midas holds it for his creed,  
Apollo's Lute sounds worse than oaten reed.   

Behold a Bruit that scarce can hold his pen,  
Yet thinks he hath Caduc●…us in his hand,  
And that his style will charm the wisest men,  
His shipwreck senses will not drive to land,  
His ballet-fraughted ship is in a sand:  
And welladay will hardly serve the turn.  
Since he is drowned, his Epitaph may burn.   

Another Artelesse mome bewitched with praise,  
Thrusts forth a patched Pamphlet into print,  
When fools on it, as on a pied coat gaze,  
His copper words come out of coxecombs mint:  
Fluent from Art, as water from a flint.  
Four books he makes four elbows to present,  
By his induction is his bauble meant.   

O wretched judgers of pure golden Art,  
Why do you bribe your wits with leaden lines?  
Unlawful censure takes a lawless part,  
Whilst fondness deeper wisdom undermines:  
By this means, learning's sacred skill declines.  
And ye yourselves allowing wrong for right,  
Argue your power to be of lesser might.   

These counterfeits are like an Ebon tree,  
Whose body beareth neither leaf nor fruit,  
Nor any sap but coal-black wood to see,  
What glory then to that can men impute?  
Except all virtuous plants they will refute:  
So are these stocks but images of wood,  
And barred from Art to make their breeding good.   

But unto Hermes lawful sons in wit,  
That scorn the fellowship of seemers so,  
I wish them that due honour shall be fit  
That they like sweet Ambrosian trees may grow,  
Where Science with her compeers sits a-row,  
But for the race of dolts and all their train,  
I wish them that they have, headhiding shame.    

satire. quartus. Contra jovialistam.  

WHere the high minded forest king commands,  
And half horsed Centaurs comb his dusky locks,  
And have their progress through his spacious lands,  
Where Unicorns attend their Lord in flocks,  
Whetting heir horns upon the coral rocks.  
And when he thirsts do purge the rivers brink,  
(For so ought every mighty Prince to drink.)   

Of thence am I: yet enemy to pride  
And public plaguer of the insolent,  
I cannot that injurious ill abide.  
When mighty men must have their wisdom lent,  
And being Landlords buy their wit for rent.  
In fine, the fine he pays well come to light,  
And all be forfeit to the fool by right.   

Let him that cannot guide Apollo's seat,  
Content him with a couch upon the ground,  
Better be silent, though thy place be great,  
Than speaking with another's tongue be found:  
And so betrayed recite a mortal wound,  
Which neither peer nor popular redress,  
Can cure with all the good thou dost possess.   

The Senators of Rome would shame to set  
And speak but Placet like a borrowed word,  
Wherein their censures danced in a net,  
Such sacrilege by Romans' was abhorred,  
His skull is cursed that can no more afford:  
Rutilio to confirm all doctrine to be good,  
Making both one of Paul and Robin-hood.   

Behold the climbing offspring of the Sun,  
Unable those fyre-foming steeds to guide,  
Suffers the axle-tree of heaven to burn,  
And to the wrathful sea doth headlong slide,  
Cursed by the Signs for his detested pride.  
Thus when we think ourselves begirt with bliss,  
We practise our own downfall with a kiss.   

But yet there are that trace the milk-white way,  
And follow jove to his judicial seat,  
Whose sovereign wisdom judgement will obey,  
From whom doth spring such comfortable heat,  
That with deep knowledge makes the mind replete.  
But for those sort, that want of wit doth starve,  
Their cap, and common curtsy will not starve.    

satire. quintus. Contra Venerëum.  

FRom the sweet field where Phillis hanged hit self,  
And Martyr Dido died in sacrifice,  
My flesh bepincht with Lar and Fairy elf,  
Where Venus and her darling tyrannize  
And leane-fac'te lovers (more Idolatrize)  
Where Lais ghost in Lacus dulcis lies,  
Kept down with false hearts that she cannot rise.   

I stole away: lest the proud Paphean queen,  
Although my shape be base and ugly ill,  
Might send her son to have her greatness seem,  
And force insatiate love against my will:  
For her edicts give life to them that kill,  
And her sharp laws are quite exempt from reason,  
Full of impiety, perjury, and treason.   

For instance see a servant wan and pale,  
Slave to his master's beck, her frown, her smile,  
An oath commander when his tongue doth fail:  
Whose meacocks heart in agonies doth boil,  
And in a world of follies keeps a coil.  
And like a Spaniel waiting for a bone,  
Feedeth his greedy eye with hope alone.   

And in that glass examine but his lines,  
How they are peest with Ovid's excrements,  
How he perfumes with roses his rude rhymes,  
With pearls and rubies makes her monuments,  
Comparing heaven to her habiliments.  
When she is worse than a broken glass,  
Which never will for any purpose pass.   

His lips with thousand kisses courts her hand,  
And sonnets forth her beauty to the skies,  
Where if her comeliness be rightly scanned,  
she's neither virtuous, beautiful, nor wise,  
And all her grace is but to seem precise.  
Yet doth this woodcock wear himself away,  
By doting on this foul ignoble prey.   

I honour Cynthia, and her nymph-like train,  
That in sweet Tempe feast with chastity,  
Whose sovereign beauty coins doth disclaim,  
Knowing proud eyes show smallest honesty,  
And colour hath but colours property.  
But for the fool that sighs for all he sees,  
For his reward I wish him Vulcan's fees.    

satire. sextus. Contra Saturnistam.  

FArewell awhile i'll and unhallowed caves,  
Where Saturn with devouring mischief frets,  
Where Melancholy chases, and madness raves,  
Where pain dead torments torments death begets,  
Where discontent in ragged habit sits,  
Where the harsh tuned unwelcome Screech owl sings,  
And buzzing Hornets fly with cobweb wings.   

For for a while I must associate them,  
That reaching Politicians will be named,  
And what is done in countries far do ken,  
Urging that nature all the world hath framed,  
Affirming God in things is needless named:  
But that the influence of the heaven effects  
Our good or bad still graced by all respects.   

That take a pride in damned Machiavile,  
And study his disciples to be thought:  
Allowing all deeds be they ne'er so vile.  
Such as have hellborn Atheism taught,  
Accounting scripture customs that are nought.  
Such as are earnest Turks, where is a Turk,  
And call the Alcharon a godly work.   

Such as are minded with Pythagoras,  
And hold the transmigration to be true,  
That after death men's souls to bruit beasts pass,  
And then again transform their shape anew,  
That looked for resurrection is not due.  
So living in licentious liberty,  
Commit foul treasons, rape, and villainy.   

But oh dear knowledge do not so permit,  
Thy reverent virtues to be scared and maimed:  
Infuse thy comfort to some sacred wit,  
Else will thy holy offerings be disdained,  
And all thy spotless excellence be stained.  
These Tyrants will disrobe thee of thy right,  
And clothe thee with torn garments of despite.   

And thou religion draw thy steel bright sword,  
And lop this cursed Hydra limb by limb,  
Legions of Angels will attend thy word,  
In crystal armour proof from death and sin:  
When thou with triumph shalt the battle win.  
And these sold slaves through Satan's gate shall pass  
And ●…ue in boiling lead and burning glass.    

satire. septimus. Contra Sollistam.  

THere where the sortish ignorant adore,  
The vain transparent, splendour of the Sun,  
Accounting no felicity before,  
The rising of his glory be begun,  
Yet dark drown devices will not seek to shun:  
I was: but now the shade of men I took,  
Those that the substance of their soul forsook.   

Croesus' said wealth was chief felicity,  
Only authority deserved a throne.  
That war for kingdoms was tranquillity,  
And to be honoured was true heaven alone,  
But when by thraldom all this pomp was gone:  
Solon (quoth he) my soul must needs confess,  
In dying well is only happiness.   

The sun shines when the sceptre's in the hand,  
The sun shines where the golden Fleece doth rest,  
Where Ladies wanton with a carpet band,  
(Though it be shut) within the Miser's chest,  
And where fat Epicures delight to feast:  
O golden glory, shall this ever vanish,  
Where such a God with swaying power doth vanquish.   

Behold, the morning cheers the springing flower,  
The heat of heaven glads the twining vine,  
The glass full brimmed with the sandy hour,  
These are more glorious than that pride of thine,  
Yet see how suddenly they shall decline:  
When like the flower, thy beauty, vine, thy wit,  
Thy glasse-dust run, and thou in dust shalt sit.   

How like a King the Marigold doth spread,  
The golden circuit of her impald brow,  
A whiffing wind that coronet hath shed,  
And made her proud unknobbed stalk to bow,  
No longer will the plants her pomp allow.  
So have I seen ere now a golden Crown,  
In a dark vault his precious head lay down.   

Let him then think, that happiness will think,  
It lies not in the gloss of humane eyes,  
How suddenly that vading joy would shrink,  
When every minute, living pleasure dies,  
Like the bright clouded mistnes of the skies.  
If wild-bred satires so their lesson can,  
'tis better be a Satire than a man.    

Spes imperfecta.  

THou Treasurer of heaven where hast thou closed  
This hidden wealth of men's true happiness?  
In nothing human fancy hath composed,  
Yet on the earth once dwelled this blessedness,  
To bring the earth from cursed wretchedness:  
Open that secret coffer we may see,  
(If not possess) that heavenly treasury.    

SOLA faelicitas. Christus mihi Phoenix.  

IN the balm sweet imparadized womb,  
Of a choice Virgin sanctified by grace,  
Where second Adam had his fleshly home,  
Since the first man his glory did deface,  
And curse of heaven possessed his sinful race:  
My Phoenix was with sacred Manna bred,  
And by the holy Ghost with Angels fed.   

Kings of the earth his spicery did make,  
Of Franckinsence, pure gold and pleasing Myrrh,  
A glorious star appeared for his sake,  
And the melodious cherubins did stir,  
And all celestial bodies doth infer  
Chief praise to him: for by his blessed birth,  
Heaven was well pleased, & fruitful was the earth.   

My Phoenix, like that swift returning Dove,  
That in his mouth the branch of Olive brought,  
The badge of peace, the ensign of true love:  
When this base world by sin was sunk to nought,  
And the earth's bosom, was with water fraught:  
That like the Pelican, picked from his breast,  
The blood that brought his young ones peaceful rest.   

That like the rock, whence liquid crystal flowed,  
Opened his side to give the thirsty drink,  
Like the calm wind, that on the red sea blowed,  
When thankless Israel (weakly) thought to sink,  
Like the best good the soul of man can think.  
Oh chiefest best, be best, to us the worst,  
Blest be we (by thee best) the most accursed.   

Oh clock me underneath thy spreading wing,  
Safe sanctuary for a sinful soul,  
Where if I sigh, sky-turned voices sing,  
For thou once pleased, nor earth nor air will scowl,  
Thy feathers shaking stormy winds control.  
The music of thy note enchants huge hell,  
Oh let me then within thy shadow dwell.   

Behold me like a winter-wythered tree,  
Or like a Beacon on a barren hill,  
Consumed by sin another's watch to be,  
Killing to teach another not to kill:  
Spoiling myself lest other wretches spill:  
Oh sacred bird, a lower pitch vouchsafe,  
Touch but my top, and then I shall be safe.   

Behold, to save me from aeternal thrall,  
My Phoenix takes his flight unto a cross,  
Not as the feigned Arabian bird did fall,  
Worn out by age, by fire consumed to dross,  
So looseth that which nature makes a loss:  
And of his ashes doth another mount,  
Exceeding all fair Fowl of rare account.   

No no my Phoenix is but young in years,  
Immortal too, yet doth he die for me,  
He on the cross unto the world appears,  
Offering himself on that unhallowed tree,  
To bring my soul to sweet felicity:  
But see hearts-ioy my Phoenix lives again,  
Passing hell torment with unspoken pain.   

And now he doth ascend his high-built nest,  
A place, unthought, unknown, unseen, unsaid,  
Where with omnipotence he shall be blest,  
And I behold this sacred Bird obeyed,  
And I by him there by his merits stayed:  
And like a Dove sit by him most content,  
Whose innocence makes me so innocent.    

Satyrus peregrinans.  

ABote, a Boat or I shall set my feet.  
Upon the incke-black bubbles of this stream  
And with my rough arms these mudde-billows greet,  
Fowl ferry monster waft me to that realm,  
Where men in sleep do wake, & waking dream:  
Where the feet stands, where ruling heads should be,  
And elbows take the office of the knee.   

A shore, a shore I long to see the soil,  
(Oh the world's pleasure of this newfound earth,)  
They say it will a well stayed sense beguile,  
Bring liberal plenty to a niggard dearth,  
Make a sad dooms day of an infant's birth:  
Now I am here I'll try conclusions,  
Direct degrees, or indirect confusions.   

All hail green bearded trees, green headed men,  
A high way to a harbour I have spied,  
Sir where I am, I very feign would ken,  
I ask one on a raw boaned jade doth ride,  
And gently treat him deign to be my guide:  
The jolly tyder coily looks a side,  
And checks his proud eye lest to me it glide.   

A hawk my youngster had upon his fist,  
And by his side a five groat canvas bag,  
An old cut suit, with Coventry blew twist,  
The colour faeed with orengtawny shag,  
His spurs hung in the belly of his nag:  
Upon his head a Monmouth cap he wore,  
With a green parrots feather broucht before.   

He scarce would speak, (for that he said he served)  
Lollus a gentleman made ploughman's son,  
Who rightly from his birthright never swerved,  
And now in his affairs his horse must run,  
For that to woo, his master had begun;  
I checked his bit, and would not let him pass,  
Till he confessed his master was an Ass.   

And briefly bred him to this short discourse,  
I serve (quoth he) a brave embroidered fool,  
Heir to a sunshine swain, yet will perforce,  
Borrow a title from a learned school,  
(Indeed his grandsire rid upon a mule)  
Yet if you will but let me go my friend,  
I'll tell you all his life, but guess his end.   

He is in love with every painted face,  
Saluting common trulls with ribald lines,  
In songs and sonnets taking such a grace,  
As if he delude for gold in Indian mines,  
(But see how fortune such great wit repines)  
In this sweet traffic, his bargains are so ill,  
That he is made a jade by every jill.   

he'll enter in an ergo with the proudest,  
And pot a verse with any grammar scholar,  
Speak ten at once, his tongue will be the loudest,  
Take him but down (O unexpected dolor)  
His present passion brings him to a choler:  
With wagers, and with oath at last 'tis tried,  
And then his argument is not denied.   

Take him within the street, he is a Lord,  
And in a Tavern better than a king,  
With thousand brags he'll beautify the board,  
But in his purse the beggar's bell doth ring,  
Yet once a year (as Cookoes use to sing:)  
He hath a little stipendiary gold,  
Which sum, is spent before it can be told.   

And once I'll tell you how this gallant sped,  
He was enamoured of a player's boy,  
And certain sharkers that upon him fed,  
Did soon instruct the stage boy to be coy,  
That but with him, he had no other joy:  
In woman's quaint attire they dressed the lad,  
That almost made the fool my master mad.   

They soon persuaded him she was an heir,  
And only daughter to a knight well known,  
He saw her young, rich, amorous and fair,  
Have her he must, or die he would with moan,  
In sleepy nights his very soul did groan:  
Then had not I been stickler in this strife,  
The beast had had a malekinde to his wife.   

Hear did I cut this gross device a sunder,  
Weary to hear a base absurded tale,  
I took this foppish babbling for a wonder,  
I kicked his palfrey and began to rail,  
The fellow looked upon me very pale:  
And spurring of his horse, bade me adieu,  
And swore (by God) what he had said was true.   

Anon a Muse had brought me unawares  
Before a goodly strong built city gate,  
I wholly thirsted after those affairs,  
And in I entered to behold the state,  
All costly things were bartered at a rate,  
Amazed at that I never saw before,  
I heard one swear an oath, it cost me more.   

I start and saw that fellow swore the oath,  
Sell that for less, than he did swear it cost,  
Thought I, here conscience lives her fullest growth  
Where buyers win by that the seller lost,  
But yet I durst not be too bold to boast:  
For strait I saw Symonus in his shop.  
A hollow ring of gold with lead dross stop.   

And yet he quickly sold it by the weight:  
(Led was a better friend to him then gold,)  
I took it for a very pretty sleight,  
But when the buyer had his money told,  
Away he went: and then I might behold,  
Simonius rub his arm, and laugh out right,  
That he had done his neighbour wrong for right.   

Anon Lapistus with his faithless fist,  
Insceptred with a subtle piece of wood,  
Was measuring forth such trifles as he list,  
Hard at his arm his wife my mistress stood,  
Commending that, her husband, sold for good:  
Looking the buyer wistly in the face,  
Whilst Lapist nicked the measure in the space.   

Forthwith great Gurmond (to his codpiece chained  
A pair of groat gloves wrapped in his hand,  
On top of which a nosegay long remained,  
Was trudging to lend money upon land,  
Upon a statute merchant he doth stand:  
But gentle sir, take heed you keep your day,  
Or else your mortgage shall the forfeit pay.   

By this time long-gowned Lumen walked abroad,  
Under his girdle greene-waxt labels hung,  
Although his pace was slow, gold was his goad,  
And as the Petifogger went, he sung,  
His greased belt and the wax together clung:  
He swore a mighty oath his writs were spoiled,  
And by that means his client should be foiled.   

I tracked his steps, and followed him alloofe,  
Weary with those Mecanicke mean deceits,  
At last he entered to a spacious roof,  
Where great-men sat in high judicial seats,  
And jugglers play at even and odd with feats:  
As (now sir it shall go with you to day,  
To morrow 'tis against you, you must pay.)   

This hall they say is builded of such wood,  
That cobwebs on the rafters are not spun,  
By right the nature of these trees are good,  
Yet there be held I mighty spiders run,  
And by their sucking little flies undone:  
A thing most strange, that poisoned things must dwell,  
Where nature scarce alloweth them a cell▪   

There stood Briareus with a hundred hands,  
And every one was ready to receive,  
As many sundry tongues, as seas have sands:  
And when he said, the truth I do conceive,  
Then meant the hellhound soonest to deceive.  
There saw I twelve good fellows called together,  
That would forswear their father for a feather.   

I saw the widow in a mourning weed,  
Wring her painful hands to get her right,  
Th'oppressed soul tormented with more need,  
And cruelty with scarlet clothed in spite,  
As who should say, in blood is my delight.  
Then thought I (ôh there is a judge above)  
Will all this wrong with one true sentence move.   

Such sweeting for base pelf, I did behold,  
Such perjuries to get the upper hand,  
The innocent with falsehood bought and sold,  
Such circumstance before the truth was scanned,  
Such scorched conscience marked with Satan's brand,  
That strait bereft of my satyric wit,  
I was possessed with a frantic fit.   

So leaving this vast rumour of man's voice,  
I made my run unto a river side,  
Where, sink or swim, I took no better choice,  
With desperate leap in, headlong did I glide,  
And for I would no more repeat this pride,  
I did imagine I was in a dream,  
And so concluded my unordered theme.    

Ash-wednesday.  

O Holiest holy three, yet wholly one,  
Vouchsafe the piercing splendour of thine eye,  
My souls true Martyrdom to look upon,  
Where thou mayst inborn penitence espy,  
Without the cloak of false hypocrisy:  
And though my tongue proclaims not public fast,  
Yet prayers to praise thee is my spirits repast.   

Behold, to cinders have I burnt my sins,  
An acceptable sacrifice to thee,  
Which heavenly joys in heavenly mansion wins,  
The ashes on my sad heart scattered be,  
The pensive patient of all misery:  
In my breast mourning sits she like a dove.  
And fears through sin to lose sweet Christ her love.   

And though I wear no shirt of camels hair,  
A boasting show the flesh to macerate,  
Nor lash my body with the whips of care,  
Nor on my knocking breast my prayers debate,  
Nor with high voice my faults deliberate:  
Although I strew no ashes on my head,  
Nor with beguiling abstinence am fed.   

Yet see my heart pricked with true faiths desire,  
With longing to behold thy sacred face,  
Whipped with the fear of thy enraged fire,  
Which will the pride of all weak brags deface,  
And my soul knocks to have thy promised grace:  
With lowly voice the ashes of my sins,  
Scattered abroad: and so my fast gins.   

When I do this, I walk not in the street,  
And tell the world my base dissembling guile,  
Nor tread the cold stones with uncovered feet,  
Such hypocrites their wretched ways defile:  
No let the heart true parts of grief compile,  
That is the sweet Ashwensday I observe,  
Fast still to this, and thou shalt never starve.    
Lay not my sins O Lord, unto my charge. 

CAst down those eyes dread dear redeeming Lord,  
That shed salt tears for poor jerusalem,  
In pity of my sins by thee abhorred,  
And when thou hast with love perused them,  
By which thou often hast excused men,  
And seest how headlong I have run at large,  
Yet Lord, lay not my crimes unto my charge.   

Let that sweet tongue said woman sin no more,  
Thy healing hand most kind Samaritane,  
Pronounce a pardon for my hearts deplore,  
And make my black sins whiter than the Swan,  
Defiled with mischiefs since my life began.  
Oh lay not those foul treasons to my charge,  
But stop them, lest they run too much at large.   

What glory is it that so mean a soul?  
Earth's vassaylage, the worms subjecteth slave,  
Whose honour dust downe-trodden doth enrol?  
Should quite be damned, whom thy dear word may save,  
And thou thyself the purchased praises have.  
Saviour, I know my sins shall have discharge,  
Where mercy with thy merits is so large.   

With blood more precious than the world's rich wealth,  
Remember thou hast ransomed me from hell,  
Called me thine own, thy son, thy saving health,  
Providedst me a place with thee to dwell,  
A place which doth all palaces excel:  
Then let me not in deserts run at large,  
But take me to thy safe protecting charge.   

Fron forth thy Temple thou didst banish thieves,  
That Saints might praise thee where thou wast profaned  
And creatures live that on thy name believes,  
I am thy temple, let it not be stained,  
For there too long hath cursed Satan reigned.  
Cast forth that tempter, give the fiend discharge,  
Bind that old Serpent lest he fly at large.   

And when I find that enemy is gone,  
That soothes my soul with vile impiety,  
Thy name oh Father) I will call upon,  
And keep it from bold sins society,  
And from false pleasures cursed variety.  
Then let thy spirit walk with my spirit at large,  
And Lord lay not my sins unto my charge.    
Who will praise thee Lord, within the Pit. 

WIth reverent tongue, and groaning spirit oppressed,  
My bones like rocks beaten with seas of tears,  
And worn with stormy sighs of my unrest,  
Behold Messiah my vexed soul appears,  
Afflicted with a legion of pale fears:  
And humbly prays thee Lord to be appeased,  
That my hearts killing dolor may be eased.   

How shall I do thee honour in the grave?  
Or praise thee in the darkness of despair?  
No light of gladness shines in sorrows cave,  
No morning Harp can hymn thy name in care,  
Except some comfort to the sense repair:  
Let then one spark of favour but appear,  
And I will say my Lord my God is there.   

Like withered stubble bended to the ground.  
The horse, and yoked Ox tread on my breast,  
And ploughmen gash my reins with many a wound  
The poisoned adder makes my flesh her nest  
(I Lord, and that oppression is my least:)  
Yet none but thou canst fling me to the grave,  
O save me thence and thou shalt worship have.   

Thy servant job by suffered sathan tempted,  
Knew by thy grace he should be raised again,  
For, from the pit his body was exempted,  
The cursed soule-foe, could there no conquest gain,  
Thou gav'st him strength the conflict to maintain,  
I have no power, no strength, no force of wit,  
Then much more Lord preserve me from the pit.   

Like to a vanquished bloody battle won,  
Few now are left to beat jehovahs' name,  
Those which escaped from faiths true fight have run,  
Reserve yet some (though they be halt and lame)  
For thou canst cure the soul that hath a maim.  
Let me (sweet Christ) be one thou meanest to save,  
Then know I, that I, shall not touch the grave.    

Passio Christi.  O Father if it be thy will, let this cup pass. 

Divine human, human Divine, (my God)  
Behold thy son, corruptlesse virgin's flesh,  
Spirit of the, which with thee hath abode,  
Who than thyself (of thyself) is no less,  
Vouchsafe thy heavenly issue so to bless,  
That, if thou wilt (o wilt thou without wroth)  
Let this cup pass I may not taste thereof.   

Thy bitter imposition comes of love,  
Therefore thy gracious will, not mine be done,  
This bloody sweat a father's name might move,  
But (o great righteousness,) what is begun,  
Save many a child, by torment of one son:  
Father eternal better thine heir die,  
Than all the rest in utter darkeneslye.   

This anguish like a sucking serpent draws,  
My conduit-flowing veins of blood so fast,  
And my sharp wounding passion will not pause,  
But shows me death to come, not torments past,  
And pale aspect of weakness stands aghast:  
Sovereign of Kings supreme of joyful rest,  
With thy imperial sceptre touch my breast.   

But must thy dear begotten smart for all?  
Must all the world's huge sins be laid on me?  
What shall I suffer then? what kind of thrall?  
What cruel bondage? what sharp misery?  
What deaths? what frighting horrors must there be  
If that one sin and but of one man too,  
Deserve hell fire? what shall all men's sins do?   

For every sin of every several man,  
(Sweet Father) must I bear a several hell?  
Why then my pain is pleasure yet began,  
But in the end where must thy chosen dwell?  
Where thou wilt Lord I will account all well:  
Heaven, hell, death, life, I will endure my cross,  
Reckoning for one deaths conquering & life's loss.   

All plagues, for all, all yokes, my back shall bear  
Which in this brimful cup of death I put.  
And so avoid tempting cold shivering fear,  
For, I will drink this draft of gall quite up,  
And my invaded spirit from terror shut:  
So take the resolution of thy Son,  
For, Father not my will, but thine be done.   
Explicit Christus.   

Resurrectio Christi.  

ARchangels, Angels, Martyrs, holy Saints,  
Oh heavens celestial family appear,  
Give all your powers unnatural restraints,  
Sound Cherubin-like music in his ear,  
(Whose glorious being banished all hell-feare)  
The Son is ris, Gods dear elected Son,  
And now ascends where his first birth begun.   

Clouds clap together with melodious voice,  
And with your softness clothe his blessed breast,  
From his great Father hear a thundering noise,  
That crowns his bright Son in eternal rest,  
Of all (oh only all) thou art most blest:  
And earthly men forsake your vain delight,  
Kneel, pray, and praise, this uncompared might.   

jonas that in the huge Leviathan,  
Three hell-darke nights, & days imprisoned was,  
Is like a chosen Prophet come again,  
(Oh how thy word dread king is come to pass?)  
So is this Prophet, which doth all surpass:  
Rose from the foggy entrails of the grave,  
Mankind, ungrateful minded-man to save.   

Baptizing john that in the wilderness,  
Lived as an exile in that barren land,  
Feeding on Locusts in his sharp distress,  
Subject to monsters, and at death's command,  
Hath conquered all this with his faithful hand  
And is returned: So our Baptizer is,  
Who, not with water but with blood brings bliss.   

Since whose abode, devouring hell is frighted,  
Quaking for fear when jesus Christ was there,  
And quick-eyd death become but dimly sighted,  
And since, when he is named they shake for fear,  
If but thy name do such amazement bear?  
What did the person of so great a king?  
Hell's victory control, and kill deaths sting.   

Then from the fleshly prison of base sin,  
Rise (oh thou foul infected soul of mine)  
Arise, or else death will the battle win,  
And kill thee with a thousand darted crime,  
Come quickly from this filthy grave in time,  
Rise thus, and thou shalt ever rise with joy,  
And as thy Saviour did thou shalt destroy.   
FINIS.