THE Souls immortal crown consisting of seven glorious graces.  
1. Virtue. 2. Wisdom. 3. love. 4. Constancy. 5. Patience. 6. Humility. 7. infiniteness.  
DIVIDED INTO SEVEN days Works.  
AND Dedicated to the Kings most excellent Majesty.  
AT LONDON Printed by H. Lownes, and are to be sold by I. C. and F. B. 1605.   

TO THE HIGH and mighty Prince, JAMES by the grace of God, King of great Britain, France and Ireland, defender of the faith, etc.  
TO whom shall I dedicate the praise of Virtue, but to him whom Virtue praiseth, which in your Majesty being made good, to the eyes of those understanding spirits, that can judge of the heavenly notes of heroical natures (I hope) having Truth for my warrant, to escape the scandal of fawning Eloquence: vouchsafe therefore my gracious Sovereign, in this plain Poem, to peruse the labour of my heart's love, which with the service of true loyalty, I humbly lay at the feet of your Royal Majesty, beseeching the virtue of all grace, & grace of all virtue, so to bless you with his infinite blessings, that as virtue under heaven putteth her praise under your Patronage, so the Patron of all virtue will so Royalize your praise in the Heavens, that to your gracious Crown on earth, you may receive a Crown of Eternal glory.  
Your majesties most humble and loyal in all service, BER N. Gent.   

To the Reader.  
YOu that have a heart to lift your eyes above your head, and have not buried your soul in the sink of sin, take a little time to read over this little Tract, where if virtue may invite you, wisdom may woe you, love may draw you, constancy may content you, patience may persuade you, or humility may entreat you, you shall not pass without your payment, and make a profit of your expense: the villain cannot taste it, the fool understand it, the hateful not love it, nor the inconstant commend it, the impatient endure it, nor the proud regard it: but I hope the best will allow it, and to them I only leave it, who can best judge of it, will judiciously peruse it, and accordingly esteem it; there is no state taxed in it, no person abused by it, none that read it, but may have good of it, and for the good of all men I have done it. The youthful may learn, and the aged consider what is most necessary for the soul's comfort, the rich may find treasure above their wealth, and the poor, relief in their misery: in sum, to avoid tediousness, I hope you shall see Virtue truly honoured, Wisdom truly praised, Love truly described, Constancy truly commended, Patience truly proved, and God in all, truly glorified: to the tuition of whose grace, in hearty prayer for your happiness, that you may seek it only in his goodness: I leave you for this time, and for ever till I better know you.  
Your friend as I find cause, BER. N. Gent.   

The Argument.  
Virtue is wisdoms light, Wisdom her love,  
And Constancy her only life's delight:  
Which Patience in Humility doth prove,  
Humility the eye of virtues sight:  
I hat sees the Grace's branches of the Tree,  
Which figures God, in whom their Glories be.   

A POEM UPON the praise of virtue. The first days work.  

OH my dear Muse, that never couldst endure  
The wicked courses of a wretched mind:  
Nor, ever learnest by cunning to procure  
The hateful comforts of a hellish kind:  
But, ever hast the love of virtue near thee,  
Speak in her praise, that all the world may hear thee.   

Go, tell the greatest Monarch (where thou goest)  
She is a Queen to fit his Majesty:  
And, tell the wisest Counsellor thou knowest,  
By her, his wit hath greatest dignity:  
And, tell the fairest, in her fairest grace,  
Fowl is her fair, except she blush her face.   

Tell the Divine, she gives a glorious light,  
Unto the truth of the eternal word:  
Tell Valour, she makes but a bloody fight;  
Except she guide the hand, that holds the sword:  
Tell all the Arts, their studies are but idle,  
Except she hold the senses in a bridle.   

Tell Honour that her Title's but a tittle,  
Except she build the steps of her estate▪  
Tell Riches, all her Greatness is but little,  
Except she hold her Reckonings at a rate:  
Tell Love, alas, his treasure's but a toy,  
Except she be the substance of the joy..   

Go, tell the world more than the world can tell,  
All is as nought, where she's not all in all:  
Tell Excellence, she never doth excel,  
But, when her Grace doth to her Glory fall:  
Tell Truth herself, that in her trump of Fame,  
Her highest Note is only in her name.   

Oh, were she seen within the sacred sense  
Of her high favour always with the highest;  
Where Angels Grace, and Grace's excellence,  
Keep her dear Love unto themselves the nighest;  
Then would the world all humbly fall before her,  
And, next to God, in hearts and souls adore her.   

Oh, could a King but note her Queenlike Nature,  
What Majesty is in an humble mind;  
How, on the earth she makes a heavenly Creature,  
In being loving, patient, true, and kind:  
And, in her sweetness, sweetly so perceive her,  
No King on earth would for his Kingdom leave her.   

And, could a Queen behold her Glorious Grace,  
How her true Love doth truly lovely make her:  
And what a Sun she sets upon her face,  
That makes the Godly for a goodness take her:  
She would so truly and so dearly love her,  
That, no conceit should from her Court remove her.   

And did the gravest wisest Counsellor,  
But sound the depth of her divine conceit,  
Where perfect Truth is Reason's Paramour:  
When Wisdoms care doth cut off all deceit:  
While sacred judgement in true justice sits,  
Her will should be the Rule of all their Wits.   

And, could the neatest Courtier once behold  
How comely she is with a little cost:  
How far she is from every pleating fold,  
Where, fond expenses are in folly lost:  
They all would leave their Antic loves desire,  
And, take their patterns from her plain attire.   

And, did the fairest Nymph, or Noblest Maid  
Behold her Beauty in her glorious Brightness,  
Pure in itself, unspotted, not berayed:  
Nor, idly carried with a look of Lightness;  
They would so far her excellence prefer,  
As, all would leave themselves to follow her.   

And, did the most experienced Officer,  
But note her carriage, in her service care:  
Where Conscience is the true examiner  
Of all the thoughts, where Honours courses are:  
While gracious spirits dwell in earthly Natures:  
The Court would be a place of heavenly Creatures.   

Did the Divine see her Divinity;  
And, what a spouse unto the soul she is,  
Who, with the world hath no affinity:  
But, in the heavens hath her eternal bliss.  
He would his life, unto her love refer;  
And, leave the world, for only Love of her.   

And, did the Lawyer look into her laws:  
Where Truth and Love do try the case of life;  
And wicked Craft can never make a clause,  
To feed Ambition with the fruit of strife:  
But, every plea, in pities conscience prove:  
All Law should only live, but in her love.   

And, did the Soldier, in the points of War,  
See how she sets the honour of the fight:  
How from offences, she doth keep a far,  
Yet, in the quarrel, doth maintain the right:  
And, saves the lives, hat do to Mercy yield;  
She should be high Commander of the field.   

She is not locked up in the Miser's Chest,  
Nor, leapt up in the lines of lewd conceit:  
Her life is more in liberty fair blest,  
Then, on the wills of wicked wit to wait:  
No, no, it is too much against her nature:  
To have to do with any wicked creature.   

When she alone doth in her Closet sit,  
Heavens open her the windows of their light:  
And wisdoms spirit doth inspire her wit,  
While holy Grace, doth guide her spirit right:  
Saints tears, her Ink; her pens of Angels wings,  
While, to the Glory of her God she sings.   

Her Paper is a pure, unspotted heart,  
Where thoughts are words, writ in the lines of love:  
Where Patience points at sorrows inward smart,  
While ruthful passions do Repentance prove:  
And, Truth records, that Grace's eyes may read,  
How souls are healed while sinful hearts do bleed.   

There, all the Angels, in their turns attend;  
To do their service, in their purest sense;  
While, Wit and Reason, do their Nature's bend;  
Unto the life of loves obedience:  
And gathering so all gracious thoughts together;  
She wears the Garland, that can never wither.   

There, doth she put the Poets to their pensions,  
Whose Wits are worn with too much worldly study,  
And cannot reach the height of heavens Inventions:  
But, plod in pools where plashes are too muddy,  
And takes a Muse for Gracious Pleasures play,  
To set her Music in a heavenly Key.   

There, doth she sing, how sweet a thing it is,  
To see the heavens all blessed thoughts embrace:  
How Beauty sees the highest of her Bliss,  
But in the feature of an Angel's face:  
While, Time and Truth do in their trial prove,  
There is no life but in the eternal love.   

The fading pleasures of Affections play,  
The partial working of imperfect will:  
The feeble state of fickle fancies stay,  
The careless compass of unkindly skill:  
The cursed humour of Inconstancy,  
These hateful humours she doth all defy.   

No, where she loves, it tends but with her life,  
And when she speaks, her judgements shows her wit:  
And, when she writes, her Concord's know no strife,  
What choice conceit shall chief in honour sit:  
But speak, and write, and look, and like, and love,  
All have their blessings in the heavens above.   

She gives the King a high Supremacy,  
And, to his Queen a Gracious Majesty:  
And, to his Court she gives a Decency,  
And to his State she gives an Unity:  
And, to the Rich a superfluity,  
And, to the poor a bounteous charity.   

She gives the Scholar, Understanding sense,  
And, to the Soldier, Resolution:  
And, to the judge an upright Conscience,  
And the Repentant, Absolution:  
The Tradesman, care, to keep his family,  
The Labourer, patience, and Humility.   

She leads a King into his Cabinet,  
And, shows him there the burden of his Crown,  
Before his eyes she doth his Kingdom set,  
And to his God his duty doth set down:  
She shows him there the fall of idle pride,  
And, how his person doth in safety bide.   

She shows him there the honour of her love,  
The ground of Grace in the eternal good:  
She shows the blessing of the souls behove,  
Upon the breeding of a Royal brood:  
And, that Religion is the Rule of Grace,  
That keeps the kingdom in a happy case.   

She shows him there, the benefit of peace,  
The hurt of War, the hate of Tyranny:  
The joy of Love, the happiness increase:  
Where Wisdoms cares are Honour's company:  
And, sound advise in sacred verity,  
Maintains a Monarch in his Majesty.   

She shows him there, how flattery folly feeds,  
While Reason sees the ruin of self-will;  
She shows the difference, twixt the herbs & weeds,  
Wicked illusion, and discretion's skill;  
She shows him all, that she thinks fit to show him,  
To strength his State, that nothing overthrow him.   

She shows him there the sweet contentive life  
Is not still carried in varieties;  
Nor faithful Care doth fear the fatal knife,  
That, is not subject to Impieties:  
But he alone, is all, and only Blest,  
Who, all in Mercy, hath his spirits Rest.   

She makes him see, that he could never see,  
But, through her sight, the brightness of all Seeing;  
She makes him be, that he could never be,  
But, in the blessing of her blessed Being:  
Thus, all in sum, she makes him see, and be:  
That without her, he could nor be, nor see.   

She gains him all his Greatness in her Grace,  
His Country's love, the honour of his Court:  
She keeps him safely in his kingly place,  
And, to the world she doth his fame report;  
And, when from earth Death must his Crown dissever,  
She makes him reign a King in heaven for ever.   

She takes a Queen unto herself aside,  
And, shows her all the Glory of her Grace:  
How, she alone doth make the blessed Bride,  
And, how she keeps her in her highest place:  
She makes the King in glorious Robes attire her,  
And, all the Court, love, honour, and admire her.   

Then doth she bring her humbly on her knees,  
And, sets before her the fair book of Bliss,  
Bids her there find that she can never lose,  
The care of life, where every comfort is:  
When lifting up her heart with humble eye,  
She sees a Beauty brighter than the sky.   

There she beholds in Mercies Majesty,  
Her Saviour sitting in a Glorious Throne:  
Where, in the Essence of Eternity,  
He rules all powers in himself, alone:  
When, seeing her thus humbly fall before him,  
He blesseth her that doth so much adore him.   

Then, doth she see the Angel's exercise,  
Who, with the Saints and Virgins fit and sing:  
While humble spirits make their Sacrifice,  
Unto the Glory of their Gracious King:  
While, all the Host of all the heaven rejoices,  
To hear the Music of the heavenly voices.   

Then, doth she set the Consort of the Quire,  
Where every Note doth keep his Time and Tune:  
The ditty only speaking of Desire,  
Where, love doth only unto Mercy climb:  
Where every Close doth in such comfort meet,  
That all the Heavens are ravished with the sweet.   

She takes the Virgin to her Morning task,  
And sets her down a form of faithful prayer:  
But, covers not her Beauty with a Mask,  
When she hath made her truly heavenly fair:  
But, brings her forth with such a Blessed Grace,  
As, makes him happy that may see her face.   

She shows her in a Glass of Beauty's Truth,  
How, Art doth Nature too much injury;  
That feebled Ay in forced tricks of Youth,  
In true Conceit is Reason's Mockery;  
The idle thoughts that spoil the inward eyes,  
Where Love should live, but in dishonour dies,   

She shows her there the Maiden-blush complexion,  
Betwixt the cherry Red, and snowy White:  
And, reads her then the precepts of perfection,  
Within the circle of Diana's fight▪  
She shows her all the Titles of desert,  
And, that true honour lives but in the heart.   

She never taught the Eye to leer nor lower,  
Tongue, idle talk; nor mind, ungracious thought▪  
She never set a countenance sharp and sour,  
Nor, fetch't a sigh upon a thing of nought:  
But, shows her Judgement of so just a Measure,  
As, proves her Wisdom worth a world of Treasure.   

She shows her then, how Fancy like a Flea,  
Can skip about a skittish humoured heart:  
And, how that sorrow like the Ocean Sea,  
Can drown the spirit in a deadly smart:  
While, Melancholy doth oppress the Mind,  
Where better humours have no place to find.   

Then, doth she take the counsellor alone,  
And, shows him all the secrets of his heart,  
Bids him behold the Mournful widows moan,  
The Orphans tears, the grieved Suitors smart:  
Love, fear, and serve, first God, and then his King,  
And, do no work that may his Conscience wring.   

She tells him then, the heavenly Consistory  
Doth only sit upon the spirits good:  
Where, in the fight of sacred wisdoms eye,  
Cannot a clause amiss be understood:  
While, Truth itself, that pleads the poor man's case,  
From Mercies justice hath impartial Grace.   

Then▪ doth she take aside the Courtier,  
And, shows him all the fruits of idleness;  
That, fancy is but folly's Treasurer,  
While Wit is thrall unto unthriftiness:  
While Pride presuming on deceiving Hope,  
Grief doth the Gate, but to Repentance open.   

She tells him there she never taught the eye  
To feed the spirit with an idle Gaze:  
She never taught the tongue to walk awry,  
Nor, brought the mind into a wilful Maze:  
She never taught the fashion, nor the cost,  
Where, Wisdom sees time, and expense but lost.   

She never teacheth to play fast and loose,  
Nor, juggle with a false conceived joy:  
Nor, let the Fox be taken by a Goose,  
Nor, ever sold a treasure for a toy:  
She never taught him to misspend his time,  
Nor higher state than his desert to climb.   

She never taught him how to crouch, nor creep,  
Nor scorn, nor scoff, nor hang the head aside:  
Nor sigh, nor sob, nor wipe the eye, and weep,  
Nor hateful thoughts in loving looks to hide▪  
No, no, she is or a more heavenly Nature,  
Then, with such by-wit to abuse a Creature.   

Then, doth she call for every Officer,  
And bids him strictly look into his Oath,  
That, Conscience may be true deliverer  
Of an unspotted, simple faith, and troth:  
That service love by duties care discharged,  
In Honour's eye make due Reward enlarged.   

Then, doth she take account of his accounts,  
How, all the sums do with the parcels 'gree:  
And, how much cunning Conscience surmounts,  
And, what in fine, the final sum will be:  
And, tells him that a counting day will come,  
When he shall make account for all and some.   

Thus, when she hath the Courtiers all read over,  
She calls the Lawyer to a conscience case,  
And, tells him, Truth is Learning's only Lover,  
Who, never puts the poor Man out of place:  
But, holds the hand of justice weight so even,  
As if the Balance had the Beam in Heaven.   

She never takes a Bribe to make a Motion,  
Nor, soothes a Client in a false Conceit;  
She never seeks an undeserved promotion,  
Nor sells her Beauty unto the poor by weight;  
No, she is true, and just, and wise, and kind,  
And, as she thinks, will ever speak her mind.   

Then doth she take the Soldier in his Tent,  
And shows him there the hideous fight of blood:  
That, Mercy ever with true valour went,  
To spoil the wicked, but to spare the good:  
That, Conquest never is in true perfection,  
But, when a Man can Master his Affection.   

She teacheth not a wicked Stratagem,  
Nor, how for Coin to buy and sell a Town:  
Nor to usurp a princely Diadem,  
Nor raise the vile, nor put the virtuous down:  
No, when she once begins to levy Arms,  
The good have Grace, the only wicked harms.   

She never prayed upon the poor Man's purse,  
Nor tyraniz'd upon the Prisoner:  
She never reaped the Mournful widows Curse,  
Nor of an Infant was a Murderer:  
She never was by Sea nor Land a Thief,  
But had Compassion on the poor Man's grief.   

Thus having show'd the Soldier what she knows,  
Becomes the carriage of a Noble Mind:  
She calls the Merchant, and to him she shows,  
That, Conscience care is of a heavenly kind:  
While no corruption can the soul infect,  
That to the spirit hath a due respect.   

She shows him there, there is no ware, nor weight,  
But the all-Seeing-Eye in secret sees,  
And, that no cunning can excuse deceit,  
Which gaining dross; doth better silver lose:  
She tells him plain it is all got gain,  
For fading pleasure gets eternal pain.   

She tells him, that the adventure on the Sea,  
Is not all blessed to enrich the covetous:  
Nor to maintain the Epicure his Ease.  
The proud, the bad, nor the vicious:  
But, to provide for need, and to relieve  
The needy heart, whom griping want doth grieve.   

In some she shows him that the spirits wealth,  
Is free from all unconscionable ill▪  
And, howsoever, Wit doth work by stealth,  
There is no Wisdom but the Gracious will:  
Where careful Love, where Comfort never wasteth,  
Lays up the Treasure that for ever lasteth.   

Then, doth she call on every Trade and Art,  
And, still cries out, have care of Conscience,  
Bids every eye, look well into the heart,  
And, not be carried with a wicked sense:  
For, in the day of the eternal Doom,  
Plainness in heaven will have a princely Room.   

What, though sometime her habit be but poor,  
Her lodging hard, her diet spare and thin:  
She stand disgraced at the rich man's door,  
And fast without, while other feast within:  
Yet, is she better with her Cross contented,  
Then, sport with sins, to have her soul tormented.   

And, though sometime she sit and hold her peace,  
While, idle heads do use their tongues at large:  
And, grieve to see true Learning's worth decrease,  
When that a Dunce doth take a Doctor's charge;  
Yet, may the world in all her courses know,  
'Tis not her will, God knows it shall be so.   

And, though sometime she be in fetters tied,  
While wicked spirits walk at liberty,  
And, be enforced her fairest thoughts to hide,  
While hateful thoughts are had in Dignity:  
Yet hath she patience to endure her crosses,  
While heavenly gain doth countervail her losses.   

Oh, could the world discern her worthiness,  
In all true honour, in all honour's truth:  
How she doth only give a happiness  
Unto the gravest Age, and greenest Youth:  
Even from the King, unto the poorest Creature,  
She would be honoured in a heavenly Nature.   

But, let the world esteem her as it will,  
She shall be worth more than the world is worth:  
And, when the world shall blush to see her ill,  
Then shall she bring her heavenly Beauty forth:  
And make them all confess unto their faces,  
Her Glory puts them all unto disgraces.   

She never speaks but Truth, nor doth but well,  
Her thoughts all pure, and grounded on perfection:  
She doth among the holy Muses dwell,  
And guides the Graces, all by her direction:  
She is the Body's Grace, the spirits Queen,  
In whom all Graces have their Glory seen.   

Oh, that I could describe her in her height,  
As God and her good Grace might give me leave:  
How all the Saints, and all the Angels wait,  
But on her will, and from the same receive  
The highest substance of their heavenly Bliss,  
In whom alone all heavenly Blessing is.   

Then should the world be all ashamed to see,  
How basely they her glorious Grace regarded:  
And grieve in souls to think that ever she  
Should for her service be so ill rewarded:  
That few or none, wise, fond, nor rich, nor poor,  
But ready are to thrust her out of door.   

Then should the Courts of Prince's flock unto her,  
And Lords and Ladies sue to her for Grace:  
And happy souls that best can service do her,  
And seek their life but in her lovely face:  
And then her Grace, such should a Glory bear,  
That there should be no world but where she were.   

But since her worth is to the world unknown,  
And only Heaven doth her dear Love embrace:  
Her worth is more than can in words be shown,  
While Grace itself can only show her Grace:  
Let me but leave her in all Admiration,  
To Virgins, Saints, and Angels Adoration.   

And let me say but what in soul I find,  
She is the Essence of all Excellence:  
The Eye, the Heart, the Body, and the Mind,  
Where holy Rules have all their Residence:  
Of all good Motions the first only Mover,  
The proof of love, and of loves proof the Lover.   

The strength of Truth, th'assurance of all Trust,  
The Concordance of all contentive cares:  
The judgement of the Wisdom of the Just,  
The sacred shop of the Celestial war:  
The lemme for which no price can be too great,  
Th'eternal Manna for the spirits Meat.   

The Eye of light, where Love hath all his life,  
The tongue of Truth, where Wisdom hath her words:  
The heart of peace, where patience knows no strife,  
The hand of Bounty that all Grace affords:  
The face of Beauty where all Brightness shineth,  
The soul of wonder that all worth defineth.   

The soil wherein all sweetness ever groweth,  
The Fountain whence all Wisdom ever springeth;  
The wind that never but all blessing bloweth,  
The Air that all comfort ever bringeth:  
The fire that ever life with love inflameth,  
The figure that all true perfection frameth▪   

The study of the soul's Intelligence,  
The Art of wisdoms high Invention:  
The Rule of Reason's best Experience,  
The work of Mercies Glorious Mention:  
The ground of Honour, and discretion's Grace,  
Place's perfection, and perfections place.   

All this, and more than I can speak or write,  
In Virtue lives, and to her love belongs:  
And, though the world do bar her of her right,  
Yet heaven will one day right her of her wrong▪  
And make the world to know her gracious Nature,  
And, how she only makes the Glorious Creature.   

And, since that day will one day come unwares,  
When she will call a Court of all her Teanures,  
And, see the fruit of all her servants wares,  
And, take an order for all Misdemeanures:  
Let all the world be fearful to offend her,  
And think them happy that can best attend her.   

Let every Creature seek and sue to serve her,  
And every King, and Lord, and Lady love her:  
And every heart endeavour to deserve her,  
And every Mind for some good Motion move her:  
And every tongue in true perfection praise her,  
And every soul to endless Glory raise her.   

And let me ask a pardon of heavens Grace,  
For my poor spirits mounting up so high:  
Who, for my sins doth bid me hide my face,  
And not to heaven to dare to lift mine eye:  
And say no more, but end as I begun,  
She is a Queen of Queens, and I have done.   

And since that Virtue never can be seen,  
But by the Eye of wisdoms sacred sense:  
Where she beholds her as the Blessed Queen,  
That wears the Crown of Reason's excellence:  
Let me beseech the Heavens my soul to Raise,  
To speak of Wisdom in her worthy praise.   

And, though I know, and cannot but confess  
My thoughts unable to aspire so high,  
And every way, but all unworthiness  
In me, to write of such a Mystery:  
Yet let my heart a little tell my Mind,  
What wonder worth, in wisdoms works I find.   
Gloria in excelsis Deo.   

Upon the praise of Wisdom. The second days work.  

FRom the vain humours of unseasoned Wit,  
Whose heedless will breeds nothing else but woe:  
Among the seats where sacred spirits sit,  
The holy pleasures of the heavens to know:  
My humble Muse learn what perfection says,  
In Glorious Wisdoms never ending praise.   

She is the spirit of the highest power,  
The Essence of all pureness Excellence:  
The compass of the everlasting hour,  
The Virtue of all pureness Quintessence:  
The knowledge that all knowledge only giveth,  
And only life, in which, life only liveth.   

She sits in counsel with the Trinity,  
And is th' Almighty's secret Secretary:  
She keeps the Graces in an Unity,  
And doth the charge of all their service carry:  
Before Creation she did make Election,  
And for the Action she did give direction.   

She calls the Angels each one by their names,  
And sets the Saints and Martyrs in their places:  
Their Hymns and Songs unto their Lord she frames,  
And to their Music gives especial Graces:  
The Seraphins she makes to clap their wings,  
While all the Heavens their Haleluiah sings.   

Amid the sky she set the Sun and Moon,  
And made division twixt the day and night:  
She made the morning and the after noon,  
And set each planet in his place aright:  
She pricked the Stars upon the Firmament,  
And gave a life to every Element.   

She made the times the seasons of the year,  
The change of Natures, and the notes of choice:  
She made perfection every way appear,  
And in her labours made her Love rejoice:  
So by desert the highest did her call  
High Officer, and work Mistress of all.   

She made the Earth in compass like a Ball,  
Betwixt the water and the sky depending:  
Yet hangs so fast, that it can never fall,  
Until all earthly things must have an ending:  
And having framed it as she thought it meet,  
Made it a footstool for her Master's feet.   

She made the Seas, the Brooks, the Fountain springs:  
The Trees, the Fruits, the Herbs, and every Flower:  
The Fish, the Beast, and every Bird that sings:  
The Year, the Month, the Week, the day, the hour:  
The outward shape, and every inward sense,  
And every Star a sundry influence.   

She framed Man the last of every Creature,  
But yet the best, and to her love the nearest:  
She gave his heart a kind of heavenly nature,  
And held his life unto her love the dearest:  
She made him all things by their names to call,  
And under God, Lord Governor of all.   

She taught him only how to know the good,  
But never taught him how to know the evil:  
She fed his spirit with a wholesome food,  
Till Pride did bring him poison from the Devil:  
She made him then his folly to confess,  
And then his faith in Mercy find redress.   

She gave his soul a Mind above his heart,  
His heart, a feeling of his spirits Nature:  
His Nature, Reason▪ and his Reason, Art;  
His Art, a knowledge of each earthly Creature:  
His Knowledge, Honour; and his Honour, Grace,  
His Grace a favour, in a Glorious place.   

She read him all the Rules of Learning's Love,  
The Natural, the Moral, and Divine:  
She show'd the Blessing of the souls behove,  
That doth not wholly to the earth decline:  
She shows the way unto eternal Bliss,  
And, for the world, how base a thing it is.   

Yet, when she made the world for her best Grace,  
She sets a Course, and Rule for every thing:  
For Nature, Reason, Action, Time, and Place,  
How best proportion might perfection bring;  
And, how in all might all things so agree,  
That in their Concord's, might no discord be.   

In scale, and feather, hair, and skin, and hue,  
In substance, sense, in colour, shape, and feature:  
How they were first begot, and how they grew,  
And how each one should differ in their Nature:  
Yet, differing so, they might together live,  
That none might other hurt, or hindrance give.   

But unto Man, she only gave a mind,  
To look into the life of every Nature:  
And give them names, and use them in their kind,  
And take commandment of each kind of Creature:  
And by her will to walk among them so,  
That every one should him their service owe.   

She made each hair, each Artir, and each vain,  
The flesh the bones, the finnowes, and the skin:  
The heart, the lytes, the liver, and the brain,  
The outward Beauty, and the strength within:  
And to his soul did give that heavenly Nature,  
That made in all the admirable Creature.   

She gave him wings to mount above the wind,  
And inward Eyes to see above the Sun:  
And by her Rules did make his Reason find,  
How Sun, and Moon, & Stars their courses run:  
How Seamen by the pole their courses guide,  
And by the Moon the turn of every Tide.   

She makes him find the heavens operations,  
Upon the Bodies of the earth below:  
She makes him by his spirits contemplations  
Upon the earth, things above Earth to know:  
And to his knowledge doth that Virtue give,  
As learns him only to his God to live.   

She makes a difference in the Minds of Men,  
She crowns the Princes, and entitleth Honour;  
She writes their Stories with a perfect Pen,  
And doth advance them that do tend upon her:  
She makes them Blest that do in patience prove her,  
And live for ever that do truly love her.   

She doth instruct the King in all his care,  
Where Mercies justice bears a blessed sword:  
She shows the Peers when they in counsel are,  
What favour heavens the faithful hearts afford:  
She shows the people the due loyalty,  
That Subjects owe unto their Sovereignty.   

She makes the Courtier not misspend his time,  
She bids the Soldier spare the Innocent;  
And the Divine beware the Conscience crime,  
And makes the Lawyer a good Student:  
She makes the Merchant honest with his wealth,  
And, labour keep the labouring Man in health.   

She teacheth every Science, and each Art,  
And shows the Truth of every Argument:  
And makes distinctions upon every part,  
And is of all the only Ornament:  
She shows the Student in Divinity,  
Heaven with the world hath no Affinity.   

She feeds no fancy with an idle fashion,  
Yet fashions all things in a comely frame:  
She never knew Repentance woeful passion,  
Nor ever feared the blot of wicked blame:  
But even and true what ever she intended,  
Wrought all so well, that none could be amended.   

She never whirls about an idle Wit,  
Nor taketh pleasure in a wanton Eye:  
Nor in the seat of pride did ever sit,  
Nor from the poor did turn her hand awry:  
Nor maintained wealth with wretched Misery,  
Nor sought for honour by Indignity.   

No, no, that Man that would his Mistress make her,  
That Woman that doth choose her for her Lover:  
That Man, or Woman that doth only take her  
For their best Love, and in their hearts do love her:  
In ravished sweetness of her Beauty's Blisses,  
Will dwell upon her lips in lovely Kisses.   

She never yet did harm to any living,  
Nor is there any good but that she doth:  
To every soul she is her Comfort giving;  
And with her sweetness so Affection wooeth,  
That they who could in loves perfection prove her,  
Would hate themselves, and if they did not love her.   

She lays the lines of life in virtues love,  
employs the Mind in holy Meditations:  
The heart, in study of the souls behove,  
The spirit, in loves Contemplations  
The tongue, in speaking truth on every part,  
The soul, in prayer, for a faithful heart.   

She never was acquainted with Corruption,  
Not came within the Air of all Infection:  
Her purpose never had an Interruption,  
Nor ever was she crossed in her direction:  
But sound and sure she carries so her skill,  
That in all good, there can be found no ill.   

She is the fairest of all Beauty's Fame,  
She is the sweetest of all Reason's sense:  
She is the Noblest of all Honour's name,  
She is the strongest of all loves defence:  
She is the richest of all earthly Treasure,  
And purest substance of the Spirits pleasure.   

Oh, what can there be more? that she should be?  
Or, how should she be more than that she is?  
That all may see, and more than all may see,  
The blessed Being of all Being Bliss;  
All Infinite, in all perfections ways,  
And Infinite, in all perfections praise.   

And, being then in goodness all so Good,  
As, being best, a better cannot be:  
Which, in herself is only understood,  
And in herself, herself can only see:  
What life of Grace? but would in love admire her,  
Or Gracious love could live, and not desire her?   

But since that love is the true life indeed,  
Of which she is, by which she only liveth:  
From which she hath her only happy spied,  
To which she oweth all the good she giveth;  
Let me the purest of my passion prove,  
To see her Glory in the Grace of love.    

THE PRAISE OF love. The third days work.  

O Love that livest in that only light,  
Which gives all seeing to all gracious Eyes:  
But keepest thy sense from that ungodly sight,  
That in the darkness of Illusion dies:  
Lighten my soul that it may clearly see,  
How thou in Wisdom, Wisdom lives in thee.   

The Angels can in their Atonements tell,  
How kindly thou dost make them live together:  
And where the Saints and holy Martyrs dwell,  
The holy Muses bring their Music thither,  
And while the Host of all the Heavens rejoice,  
Thou tun'st the heartstrings of the highest voice.   

Love is the Essence of Eternity,  
That works the course of wisdoms carriage:  
Where the high counsel of the Deity,  
Twixt Heaven and Earth do make a Marriage:  
While in the life of Holiness alone,  
The Lord of Heaven, and his true Church are one.   

It lays the plot, and draws the lines of pleasure,  
Within the ground of Grace's Paradise:  
It works the Truth, that is the spirits Treasure,  
And builds the height of Honour's Dignities:  
It bends the Eyes of Grace's Royalty,  
And knits the hearts of virtues Loyalty.   

It is no Object for an earthly Eye,  
Nor any Muse for any worldly mind:  
Although the world in true effects may try;  
It is a spirit of a powerful kind;  
And such a power, as all powers do submit;  
To the Invincible power of it.   

It maketh Will do only what it list,  
While Wisdom guides the Axill Tree of wit:  
And never fears the hurt of had I wist,  
That sees a Cross, and is content with it:  
While patience finds the only fair perfection,  
Of Fancies faith, in favours true Affection.   

It is a substance that admits no figure,  
For in itself it breeds but of exceed:  
While in the Notes of pleasures truest Nature,  
The fruits of Faith are Fancies only feedings:  
While in conceit those high Contentments meet,  
That happy souls are ravished with the sweet.   

To comprehend, it passeth Comprehension,  
And to define, 'tis undefinable:  
And to describe, it doth exceed Invention,  
And to conceive, 'tis unconceivable:  
Yet by the Virtue that our sense it gives,  
Our Reason finds that in our souls it lives.   

It is a fire that kindleth in the Eye,  
It is an Air that cooleth Furies heat:  
It is a water that is never dry,  
A Paradise, where grows the spirits meat;  
Thus it partakes of every Element,  
Yet lives above the highest Firmament.   

It is a thought begotten by a sight,  
And 'tis a sight that liveth in the thought;  
It is a life that breedeth in delight,  
And a delight that life hath only wrought;  
It is a word that by true spirits spoken,  
Doth knit a knot that never can be broken.   

Oh, how it doth a blessed Nature nourish,  
And how it doth an humble spirit cherish:  
And how it makes a faithful heart to flourish,  
And suffers not a Gracious soul to perish:  
Witness those hearts whose perfect spirits prove,  
How love in Wisdom, Wisdom lives in love.   

Fortune can never have a force to foil it,  
Nor fear to fright, nor envy to annoy it;  
Nor passion to hurt, impatience to spoil it,  
Nor Death to kill, nor Devil to destroy it:  
But where all pleasures spring, and perish never,  
here, or in Heaven it hath a life for ever.   

From the fair Brightness of a Beauteous Eye,  
It carries honour to an humble heart:  
And from the heart of Truths Humility,  
It gains the comfort of a kind desert:  
And in true kindness, that content alone,  
That of two Bodies makes the Mind but one.   

It brought down Heaven to Earth, brings Earth to Heaven,  
It walks about the circle of the Sun:  
It makes the Planets keep their orders e'en,  
And Nature kindly all her courses run:  
It sits upon the holy seat of Grace,  
And with the highest, hath the highest place.   

It keeps all Order, Measure, Rule, and Right,  
In Nature, Reason, Wisdom, Wit, and Sense▪  
In word, and deed, and thought, by day and night,  
In time and place, in Case, and Mood, and Tense:  
Where all proportions are in such perfection,  
As shows the depth of the divine direction.   

It makes the husband kind unto his wife,  
The spouse obedient to her faithful fere:  
And in that kindness that contentive life,  
That only doth but in that life appear:  
The Children gracious, and the Parents kind,  
And each in other what they wish to find.   

Brethren and sisters live in Unity,  
And Neighbours live in friendly Neighbourhood:  
And friends continue in true Amity,  
And strangers unto strangers to do good:  
Princes in Peace, and Subjects live in Grace,  
And so the earth to prove a heavenly place.   

Oh, how it fights against infamous thought,  
And kills the Nature of an ill conjecture:  
How true it hath the life of Virtue taught,  
And builds the height of Honour's Architecture:  
How little it regards all earthly toys,  
And surely leads the soul to endless joys.   

How sweetly on the Nurse's lips it lies,  
While she is bussing of her little Baby:  
And how it twinkles in the Infant's eyes,  
In learning of his Christ's Cross, and his A. B:  
How cherry-red it dies a snowy white,  
Where Maiden-blushes make a blessed sight.   

Love makes the Triumphs of the truest joys,  
And sounds the Trumpet of the sweetest sound:  
Love speaks in hearts, and makes no idle noise,  
But is in some of every Grace the ground:  
It is a Riddle above Reason's sense,  
And of exceed all the excellence.   

It makes the thought, the word and deed all one,  
It binds the eye, the hand, and heart together:  
It is in truth the only Tree alone,  
Which keeps his green where not a leaf can wither:  
It is the Bird that only sings in May,  
And makes the holy spirits holy day.   

It takes away the tediousness from time,  
The pain from patience, in desire delays:  
The fear from care, the hearts content to climb,  
The sloth from labour in his hardest ways:  
The frailty from the Nature of Affection,  
And folly from the passion of perfection.   

It is a Virtue of that sacred sense,  
In working wonders in the spirits power:  
As in the height of Reason's Excellence,  
Upon the top of Truth's eternal Tower:  
Doth stand with such a Grace of heavenly Glory,  
As may be called the state of wisdoms story,   

And since it is so infinite in worth,  
As doth exceed his pen of Reason's praise:  
Who from the soul of Wisdom issues forth,  
As from the Sun his brightest shining Rays:  
Let me here cease, and all in Admiration,  
Leave it to Wisdoms only declaration.   

And since it doth in nothing more appear,  
Then in the Nature of true Constancy:  
Which is a Virtue to the soul to dear,  
As keeps the soul from Errors Ecstasy;  
Let me a little speak of that sweet Nature,  
Of Constancy that makes the Blessed Creature.    

THE PRAISE OF Constancy. The fourth days work.  

O Constancy, thou only kingly thought,  
That keeps the spirit in her purest kind:  
And hast against all idle frailty fought,  
And like a Mountain set lest fast the Mind:  
Let me conceive some part of thy content,  
Where pleasures spirit is most sweetly spent.   

And though I cannot reach that Royal height,  
Wherein thy sacred Majesty doth sit:  
Yet as a Servant let me humbly wait,  
To see thine honour, and to speak of it:  
And so to speak, that all the world may see  
wisdoms Loves, Honour only lives in thee.   

The constant Eye hath never wandering fight,  
The constant Ear hath no unkindly hearing:  
The constant Tongue doth ever speak aright,  
The constant Heart hath ever happy cheering:  
The constant Mind the fairest thoughts unfold thee,  
The constant Soul on earth & heaven behold thee.   

It never hath a thought of jealousy,  
Nor stands upon Opinions Parador:  
Nor runs a fury into frenzy,  
Nor fears the Wolf, nor joineth with the Fox:  
But like the Phoenix in a sunny fire,  
Finds life's delight in ashes of desire.   

It loves no change, and breeds the joy of choice,  
It fears no fortune, nor it serves no folly:  
It keeps the Rule where Reason doth rejoice,  
And is the substance of contentment wholly:  
It is a stay that strengtheneth the Mind,  
And knit the senses in a sacred Kind.   

It is the true foundation of all strength,  
Which while it holds, the frame can never fall:  
It is the line that draws the longest length,  
And ever is, that sees the end of all:  
It keeps the Rules of the heavens revolution,  
And doth confirm all Reason's resolution.   

It is the lock upon the heart of love,  
A Chest that keeps the treasure of the Mind:  
Within the soul a Rock that cannot move  
A Band▪ that doth the thoughts together bind.  
A light where Wisdom virtues honour seeth,  
And life where only Grace with love agreeth.   

It keeps the Sun in his continual brightness,  
The air in coolness, and the earth in dryness:  
Water in moisture, and the wind in lightness,  
The fire in hotness, and the flame in highness:  
The good in goodness, and the kind in kindness,  
The mind from madness, and the eye from blindness.   

It was the mover first of marriage,  
And made the first continuance of content:  
It set the course of wisdoms carriage,  
And never further than affection went:  
It is the state of all perfections stay,  
And Times all ever lasting holy day.   

It is the Crown of Patience kingly care,  
The seat where Mercy sits in Majesty:  
The Law wherein all blessed precepts are,  
The fame of Love, and league of Amity;  
The learning of the wisest wits instruction,  
And sense of the most sweetest thoughts construction.   

Above the Heavens it liveth with the highest,  
And in the Heavens it dwelleth with the purest:  
And to the Nature of the best the nighest,  
And in the sense of all conceits the surest:  
And in the Action of all Art the strongest,  
And in the length of Time, and Truth the longest.   

It keeps the centre of the earth from moving,  
The swelling Sea from passing of his Bounds:  
The Rules of true perfection from Reproving,  
The health of Wisdom from all follies Wounds;  
The circle of the world in such a frame,  
That Admiration may commend the same.   

Oh, how it writes the worthiness of those,  
That strove for honour to the stroke of death:  
And how without comparison it shows,  
The mouth of Wisdom blessed in her breath:  
And how it makes the fame of them to flourish,  
That with their Bounty virtuous spirits nourish.   

It made the Mirror of all Martyrdom,  
And in the faithful makes a Glorious fight:  
And in the day of the Eternal doom,  
It will be Gracious in all Glorious sight:  
Where hopes continuance in all kindness care,  
Brings humble faith to endless happy fare.   

And since it is so infinite a Grace,  
As may deserve as infinite a praise:  
And is the fullness of the fairest place,  
In all the walk of Wit, and Reasons ways:  
Where patience proves the best experience,  
Let me a little sing of Patience.    

THE PRAISE OF Patience. The fifth days work.  

Sweet Patience thou sovereign of perfection,  
Of Gracious thoughts the only Governess:  
Who by the Rules of thy divine direction,  
Dost bring the heart to highest Happiness:  
My humble soul with thy sweet love inflame,  
That I may sing in honour of thy name.   

The purest thought that ever heart possessed,  
The clearest Object of the carefullest Eye:  
The present Medicine for the Mind distressed,  
The only ease in every Misery:  
In all the proof of Wit's Experience,  
In heart, and mind, and soul, is patience.   

It puts off fear of Fortune's frowardness,  
And only rests on Resolution:  
It wrestles with the world's untowardness.  
And holds the state of Reason's Constitution:  
It conquers Will, and so doth carry Wit,  
That both are happy only but in it.   

It breeds no wroth, nor moveth envies ill,  
It breaks no concord, nor dissension stirs:  
It learns the spirit an especial skill,  
Where Reasons care Repentance not incurs:  
And if Repentance, folly do enforce,  
It is a mean unto a sweet remorse.   

It beareth want as if it were no woe,  
And suffers wrong as if it had no sense:  
It swallows sorrow as it were not so,  
And taketh Death for life's Ingredience:  
It neither feeds of fortune, fear nor fate,  
But always is all one in every state.   

In time it keeps the compass of the hour,  
In action, order, measure, point, and place:  
In thought, the temper of the spirits power,  
In Wit and Reason all the Rules of Grace:  
In Grace the ground of that perfections story,  
That goeth near the height of virtues Glory.   

It makes the entrance into every Action,  
Continues the proceedings, makes the end:  
It kills the Nature of unquiet Faction,  
And of a foe sometime doth make a friend:  
It doth conceal the heart's calamity,  
And makes a Virtue of Necessity.   

By Patience we do our souls possess,  
And tread the path to our soul's Paradise:  
While the impatient in their soul's distress,  
Headlong fall into their soul's Miseries;  
It is a salve that healeth the soul's grief,  
Sorrows ranked poison, and the soul's relief.   

Patience doth try the Truth of every thing,  
distilleth the spirits of the purest Natures:  
Teacheth the Muse her Music notes to sing,  
And finds the difference of all kinds of Creatures:  
Gives body's health, and makes the spirits diet,  
And brings the soul unto Eternal quiet.   

It keeps the Husband chaste until he marry,  
The Wife obedient to her Band of love:  
It makes the Mother for her Child to tarry,  
And Servants wait for their Rewards behove:  
It makes the Seaman tarry for a wind,  
And poor men wait till richer men have dined.   

It makes the wounded Man endure his dressing,  
The sick Man see the losing of his blood:  
The poor Man bear the pain of his oppressing,  
The good Man against evil to do good:  
The wise Man study for the state of Bliss,  
The holy Man find where all blessing is.   

It keeps the King from thought of Cruelty,  
The Noble Peer from Pride's Ambition:  
The counsellor from all Impiety,  
The Courtier from all ill condition:  
The Churchman from the error of self-will,  
The Lay-man from the exercise of ill.   

By patience David had a Princely fame,  
And, job his patience hath a worthy praise:  
But Christ his patience hath the Glorious name,  
That ever lives to never ending days:  
Since then in God and Man it is so glorious,  
Let it be held a Virtue all victorious.   

In God it doth a work of Mercy show,  
In Mercy Comfort, and in Comfort Grace:  
In Grace that love from which that life doth flow,  
That shows where Patience hath a happy place:  
Oh blessed Patience that in Man doth prove,  
God's Mercies comfort in his Gracious love.   

It brings the heart to loves Humility,  
Humility to Truths simplicity:  
And simple Truth to Cares tranquillity,  
And quiet Care to faith's felicity:  
And happy faith unto that fairest Bliss,  
In which the fairest of all Blessing is.   

And since that in Humility I find  
True Patience hath her purest Residence:  
And brings the heart, the spirit, and the mind  
Unto the height of Reason's Excellence:  
Let me a little show what Virtue says,  
In setting down Humilities due praise.    

THE PRAISE OF Humility. The sixth days work.  

OH the sweet sense of loves Humility,  
Which fears displeasure in a dearest friend:  
The only note of true Nobility,  
Whose worthy Grace is graced without end:  
While faithful love in humble Truth approved,  
Doth ever live of God and Man beloved.   

Her Grace is Gracious in the sight of God,  
Makes men as Saints, and women Angels seem,  
Makes sin forgotten, Mercy use no Rod,  
And constant Faith to grow in great esteem:  
And is in some a Blessing of the Highest,  
And to the Nature of himself the Nighest.   

It maketh Beauty like the Sun to shine,  
As if on earth there were a heavenly light:  
It maketh Wit in Wisdom so divine,  
As if the Eye had Celestial sight:  
It is a Guide unto that Haven of Rest,  
Where Blessed souls do live for ever blest.   

In Christ it is a Grace of worthy Glory.  
In Man from God, a gift of special Grace:  
While in the state of virtues honours story,  
Wisdom doth find it in perfections place:  
And placed so high in the Almighty's love,  
As nothing more can Mercies comfort prove.   

It makes the eye look down into the heart,  
The heart obedient unto wit and sense:  
And every limb to play a servants part,  
Unto the will of Wit's pre-eminence:  
It brings the Mind unto the Body so,  
That one the other cannot overgo.   

It is the death of pride, and patience love,  
Passions Physician, Reason's counsellor:  
Religions Darling, labours Turtle Dove,  
Learning's Instructor, Grace's Register:  
Times best Attendants, & Truths best Explainer,  
virtues best Lover, and loves truest Gainer.   

It is the Prince's Grace, the subjects duty,  
The scholars lesson, and the Soldiers line:  
The Courtier's credit, and the Lady's Beauty,  
The Lawyer's virtue, and the love divine:  
That makes all senses Gracious in his sight,  
Where all true Graces have their Glorious light.   

It makes the heart fit for all good Impression,  
It doth prepare the spirit for perfection:  
It brings the soul unto her sins confession,  
It helps to clear the body from infection:  
It is the mean to bring the mind to rest,  
Where heart, soul, body, mind, and all are blest.   

It made the Mother of the Son of God,  
Gracious in him who made her full of Grace:  
And on her Son it blessedly abode,  
In bearing all the filthy worlds deface:  
And in his Servants for their masters love,  
Did Faith's affections in their passions prove.   

It saved Abrahami Son from Sacrifice,  
When Isaaks death was quitted by the Ram;  
It saved Noah and his Progenies,  
Where on the earth destruction's Deluge came;  
It saved Lot from hurt of Sodoms' fire,  
And Israel from cruel Pharaohs ire.   

It wrought in David Gracious penitence,  
In Niniveh a sweet submission:  
In job a famous Blessed patience,  
In Paul assurance of his sins Remission:  
In john the habit of a holy love,  
In Christ the Grace that did all Glory prove.   

It ever holds the hand of faithfulness,  
And ever keeps the Mind of Goldlines:  
And ever brings the heart to quietness,  
And ever leads the soul to happiness:  
And is a Virtue of that Blessedness,  
That merits praise in highest worthiness.   

Oh how it gains the Child the Parent's love,  
The wife her husband, and the servants Masters:  
Where humble faith in happy hopes behove,  
Finds patience care, discomforts healing plasters:  
And truest course of cares Tranquillity,  
Only to rest but in Humility.   

And since that in the life of humble love,  
I see the way unto the well of Bliss:  
Where Patience doth in all perfection prove,  
Where the high Blessing of all Blessings is:  
Let my soul pray that I may humbly sing,  
The heavenly praises of my holy King.    

Of the infinite praise to the infinite glory of the infinite goodness of the infinite God. The seventh days work.  

O Glorious God, and God of only Glory,  
Essence and substance of all excellence:  
The ground the grace, the state, & all the story,  
Of Virtues, Wisdoms, Grace's Residence:  
Inspire my soul with those pure thoughts perfection,  
That show some sparkle of thy loves affection.   

And let me not presume a look too high,  
Lest thou abridge the Blessing of thy love:  
Nor yet so low, let me embrace mine eyes.  
As thy fair praises may unfitly prove:  
But so thy goodness every where to know,  
That every where I may thy Glory show.   

And though my soul polluted all with sin,  
Unworthy be of the least thought of Grace:  
Yet let thy Grace a Glorious work begin,  
Thy holy spirit in my heart to place:  
That to the date of never ending days,  
My soul may sing thine everlasting praise.   

Before there was a light, there was a light,  
Which saw the world, the world could never see:  
From which, the world receives her brightest sight,  
And brightness more than in the world may be:  
Oh heavenly light above all earthly seeing,  
Where only Virtue hath her only being.   

From the fair Brightness of this Beauteous light,  
Hath wisdoms eye an only power to see:  
The line of life that leads her spirit right,  
Unto the place where all perfections be:  
Which in the work of wonder do approve,  
The Gracious labour of a Glorious love.   

There Virtue doth in all her brightness live,  
Spreading abroad the branches of her Bliss:  
As doth the Son his beams of brightness give,  
While in himself the only brightness is:  
Oh blessed light where such a life remaineth,  
As gives all light, and yet all light containeth.   

There doth she sit, and sweetly look about her,  
Beholding in the eye of virtues light:  
Pureness within, perfection all without her,  
While in a brightness far above her sight:  
There lives a power her spirits love inspiring▪  
To frame a work for wit and sense admiring.   

There from a Chaos or Confusion's Map,  
She takes the matter of her curious frame:  
While in the limits of fair virtues lap,  
She draws the course and compass of the same:  
Where having laid the groundwork of her Grace,  
She made the world up in a little space.   

Six only days was for her work ordained,  
The seventh to rest, the labour of her love:  
Her time she kept, and in her care retained,  
Such form and measure as did truly prove:  
Her Master taught her every rule so right,  
That all was good and pleasing in his sight.   

Her first days work was in the Heavens on high,  
When she divided darkness from the light:  
Wherein all pleasing the all seeing Eye,  
The light she called day, the darkness night▪  
When having heaven and earth of nothing framed,  
The Morn and Evening she the first day named.   

The second day upon the waters, she  
Did fall to work, and made a Firmament:  
By which, the waters should divided be,  
That were in this confused continent:  
Where every one within their bounds should stay,  
So, Even and Morn she made her second day.   

Then from the earth the waters she divided,  
And gathered all together, called them Seas:  
And by her skill so carefully provided,  
That in her work she did her Master please:  
Then made the earth, and called it dry land,  
Thus did the labour of her third days hand.   

In which she made the earth to fructify,  
In leaf, and fruit, Tree, bud and herb, and seed:  
In which she did her Master glorify,  
Who, seeing all, said all was good in deed▪  
So in her work thus worthily commended,  
In morn and evening was her third day ended.   

Then in the heavens the shining lights she framed,  
That should divide betwixt the day and night:  
The greater lights, the Sun and Moon she named,  
Which should give Rules to times and seasons right▪  
The lesser stars to whom she gave a light,  
To twinkle like the Candles of the Night.   

And in this work she kept her course so well,  
And still the state of Grace so understood:  
As he in whom all Graces only dwell,  
In sight of goodness saw that all was good:  
So where no praise her worth diminished,  
The Even and Morn her fourth day finished.   

Then to the waters she her work applies,  
And made each moving and each creeping thing:  
And in the Heaven each feathered fowl that flies,  
And every Creature that doth carry wing:  
When all seemed good in her great masters eye,  
Who bade them all increase and multiply.   

Thus having wrought with infinite conceit,  
The sundry form and shape of every Creature:  
With such invention as exceeds the height,  
Of Wit and Reasons praises highest Nature▪  
While high perfection each proportion framed,  
The Even and Morning was her fifth day named.   

Thus when that her weeks work was almost done▪  
She hath her choicest work to take in hand:  
For which before the Model be begun,  
She must upon her masters counsel stand:  
How she may shape his love, his lively picture,  
To have his patience pleased in his Creature.   

When having favour in his high perfection,  
With humble care a lump of clay she takes:  
Of which, by Rules of his Divine direction,  
Unto his Image perfect man she makes:  
Who so in love did to his liking fall,  
That under Heaven he made him Lord of all.   

Thus having made up all her workmanship,  
Within the limits of her fairest love:  
Where constant Truth could never take a trip,  
While careful Patience did perfection prove:  
When all was good, in goodness all installed,  
The Even and Morning she the sixth day called.   

And seeking now her sacred thoughts to rest,  
Upon the Grace of the Eternal good:  
She finds the Sabaoth by her Master blest,  
Who gives her spirits that especial food:  
That after all the labour of her days,  
Doth make her sing his everlasting praise.   

Which, as I find, in her fair Music sounding,  
Although it be a Note above my reach:  
Yet on the Grace of Virtue only grounding,  
As her sweet spirits doth my spirit teach:  
My humble soul shall strain my heart to sing,  
The Gracious praises of my Glorious King.   

O holy Essence of all holiness,  
Grace of all Glory, Glory of all Grace:  
Perfections Virtue, virtues perfectness,  
Place of all Beauty, Beauty of all place:  
Truths only Trial, Time's Eternity,  
Incomprehensible in thy Deity.   

wisdoms deviser, Father of her love,  
Constancies proof, and life of patience:  
Humilities Essence, Faith's true Turtle Dove,  
Mercies Almighty Glorious Residence:  
Sweet jesus Christ, mine humble soul inflame,  
To sing the Glory of thy holy Name.   

Before what was, but that which ever is,  
The Godhead all Incomprehensible:  
Sweet jesus Christ, the Essence of all Bliss,  
But in his Manhood only sensible:  
My saviours was, and in himself alone,  
Containing all things, but contained in none.   

The Nature of all Virtues in his Nature,  
Had all their Essence of their only Being:  
When in Creation of each kind of Creature,  
Wisdom in him had only all her seeing:  
Whose love in him that constant patience found,  
That of her Grace and Glory was the ground.   

His spotless Virtue all his life did prove,  
In doing good to all, and ill to none:  
His Wisdom did the Doctors wonder move,  
His love the Touchstone of all Truth alone:  
His Constancy even to his dying hour,  
Did show his patience, had a heavenly power.   

And for the Note of his Humility,  
His cross bare witness in his life and death:  
Who bore all baseness Incivility,  
Yet never breathed the smallest angry breath:  
O glorious King that came from Heaven on high,  
Upon this earth for Beggars so to die.   

His virtue in his will, his word doth show  
His Wisdom in Election and Creation;  
His love, his Lovers by his death do know,  
His Constancy, his patience confirmation:  
His patience his humility did prove,  
And all in some his Glory from above.   

Whose Virtue such, as his that could not sin?  
Whose Wisdom such, as worketh Virtues will?  
Whose love is such, as Wisdom liveth in?  
Whose Constancy doth show such kindness still?  
Whose patience such, as did his passion show,  
Or who so high, and ever brought so low.   

What Virtue doth, his Wisdom doth express,  
What Wisdom doth, his love doth manifest:  
What love doth, doth his constancy confess,  
What Constancy doth, in his patience blest:  
What Patience doth, Humility doth tell,  
In him alone they all and only dwell.   

Then let the virtuous for all virtue love him,  
And let the wise in wisdoms love admire him▪  
And let the constant in all kindness prove him,  
And let the patient patiently desire him:  
And let the humble humbly fall before him,  
And all together all in all adore him.   

Oh that the world could see his virtues Beauty,  
Or wit of man his wisdoms Majesty:  
Or Love could look into his Constancy,  
Or patience into his humility:  
Then vice, nor folly, frailty, rage, nor pride,  
Should in the minds of men so much abide.   

His Virtue made the first perfections Nature,  
His Wisdom made the form of all perfection:  
His love did give the life to every Creature,  
His Constancy the care of loves direction:  
His patience Medicine for all Miseries,  
His humbleness the way to Paradise.   

Wouldst thou be perfect? in his virtue know it,  
Wouldst thou be virtuous? in his wisdom learn it:  
Wouldst thou be wise? in his love only show it,  
Wouldst thou be loving? in his life discern it:  
Wouldst thou he constant? in his care conceive it,  
Wouldst thou be patient? in his death perceive it.   

Wouldst thou be humble in his lowliness?  
Learn to submit thyself to higher powers:  
Wouldst thou be blessed in his Blessedness?  
Learn to bestow the labour of thine hours:  
Wouldst thou be holy, and live happy ever?  
Live in his love, and thou shalt live for ever.   

The infinite good thoughts his virtue giveth,  
The infinite good works his will perfecteth:  
The infinite good life in his love liveth,  
The infinite love his constancy effecteth:  
Th'infinite constancy his patience proveth,  
Do humbly show what infiniteness loveth.   

Since Virtues (then) good thoughts are infinite,  
And infinite is Virtue in good thought;  
And infinite is Wisdom in good wit,  
And infinite is love by Wisdom wrought;  
And infinite is constancy in love,  
Which infinitely patience doth prove.   

In infinite Humility of heart,  
Unto the height of all infinity:  
In infinite perfection of each part,  
That makes the infinite Divinity:  
The Father, Son and holy Ghost all three,  
In one, one God, all infinite Glory be.   

And since no heart is able to attain,  
Unto his holy and eternal praise:  
To whom alone doth duly appertain,  
The date of Glories never ending days:  
When Angels in their Haleluiah dwell,  
Let me but sing A men, and I am well.   
Gloria in excelsis Deo.   

TO ALL LEARned and virtuous Scholars, and gracious Studients, honour and happiness.  
GEntlemen, I fear, this my mistermed piece of Poetry, in your true judgements, will be subject to the reproof of error; what is amiss, I humbly leave to your correction, and what is otherwise, to your favourable acceptation: and so, loath to be tedious in ceremonies, I rest affectionately to all good learning.  
A friend avowed. BER. N. Gent.