AUGUSTINE'S URANIA, OR, THE HEAVENLY MUSE, IN A POEM FULL OF MOST FEELING MEDITATIONS for the comfort of all souls, at all times:  
By S.A. B. of Arts of Ex. College in Oxford.  
Aut perlegas, aut non legas.  
What e'er thou be, whose eyes do chance to fall  
Upon this Book, read all, or none at all.  
LONDON, Printed by F.K. for Robert Allot and Henry Seile, 1629.   

An Apology for my Muse, that it chose this subject before any other, which might seem more pleasing to the Times.  
I Write not news of Ree, or our late Fleet  
For Rochels' aid; or of the States that meet  
In our great present Parliament, to cure  
Those wounds our dearest England doth endure  
For her both hid and open sins: Oh no;  
It is not fit for me, who am so low,  
To speak, when greater tongues are tied: but I  
Bring news from Heaven, wrapped in a mystery:  
The sweetest news that e'er was heard; and such  
That cannot choose but please: yet 'tis not much,  
And therefore easier to be borne: In brief,  
It is a remedy 'gainst every grief  
Of these our present troublous times; I mean,  
To those alone that cry, Unclean, unclean,  
And fain would be washed white from sin, and be  
Secured also from all the misery  
That follows it: (those judgements now that threat  
Our England's fall, if Mercy prove not great.)  
Thus have I thought the safest way to please,  
By writing what might give to all men ease.  
S. A. E Musaeo meo in Coll. Exon. in Oxonio. 26. Maij, 1628.   

AUGUSTINE'S URANIA, OR, THE HEAVENLY MUSE: Being a true story of man's fall and redemption, set forth in a Poem containing two Books: whereof one resembles the Law, the other the Gospel:  
Wherein is chiefly imitated the powerful expressions of holy Scripture: very necessary to be read of all, both Divines and others, especially those who labour under the heavy burden of their sins, and would fain be comforted.  
By S.A. B. of Arts of Ex. College in Oxford.  1. TIM. 4.12. 
Let no man despise thy youth, etc.  JOHN 3.16. 
For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him, should not perish, but have everlasting life.  ROME 5.19, 21. 
For as by one man's disobedience, many were made sinners: so by the obedience of One shall many be made righteous: That as sin hath reigned unto death: even so might Grace reign through righteousness unto eternal life, by jesus Christ our Lord.  
LONDON, Printed by F.K. for Robert Allot and Henry Seile. 1629.   

TO THE RIGHT WORSHIPFUL, THE especial favourer of my Studies, Mr. Dr. PRIDEAUX, the King's Professor of Divinity, and the most deserving Rector of Exeter College in Oxford, Grace and peace, etc.  
Reverend Sir!  
IT may haply seem strange unto you, to receive such a Present as this from my hands: but when you have well considered it, and the occasion of it; I doubt not, but without further wondering, you will be ready to challenge it before any other, as your own principal due. It is not your mind, I know, that I should here proclaim unto the world the many dutiful ties, and special engagements, wherein I stand bound unto you; how that (next under God) I have lived in this happy place above this four years, especially by sucking in the sweet air of your continuing favours: and not so only, but how in a nearer kind of reference, you have vouchsafed to take me into your own Divine Tutorage, and honoured me (beyond all desert) with the privilege of usual disputes before yourself, amongst those that were your Noble Scholars. How much these, and the like, may serve for the illustration of your goodness, I well know not, in that you placed your favours on so low and worthless a subject; but I am sure, they stand with my credit for ever to remember them: for which, and for diverse other particular respects, if I had not just occasion to present you these first fruits of my Studies, which were nourished up in your own Garden: yet here again I could appeal unto you, as to a common Patron, or Godfather as it were of the Diviner Muses. If I had made choice of any other Muse than Urania; or if my Subject were not Divine, I would not have presumed to approach your eyes with it, or entreat the world might know it under your Patronage. But since all these circumstances do so happily conspire; and if these my labours may also prove any way beneficial to God's Church and Children by your good approvement; let them, I beseech you, as my first conceptions, have leave to breathe forth their sorrows to the world under your Name: Neither let it be accounted my pride, that I seek after the vainglory of the world by being in Print; for these, I hope, can sufficiently witness for me, that if I glory in any thing, it is with 
* 2. Cor. 12.9.  Paul, in my infirmities: after this manner would I have the world take notice of me, and to amend in themselves what they find defective in me: but if any thing herein seem praiseworthy, I would entreat all men to know, that this came from a higher Spirit, and myself can glory in nothing of it, but by being the Instrument. If you knew but the pains I have suffered in travel hereof, how many precious hours and days I have detained from those sports and vanities which are common to others; yea, how much time I have stolen from my other private Studies (which lay of necessity on me in this place) and sacred them only to this: and then again, when I came about it with earnest intents, how unaptly I was disposed for it; how ready for any thing besides it; what drowsiness would set upon me; and when I went sometimes more happily onwards by the strength of God's Spirit, what Legions of evil thoughts would suddenly interrupt me; in brief, what heavy and hard conflicts, and what a tedious travel I have had (as God knows) in the producing of it, I dare promise myself, it would make your yielding heart even bleed to think on't. Had I gone about any any work of vanity, I am sure I should have had the World, Flesh and Devil at hand to forward it: but this hath showed itself to be a work of a contrary nature, and hath had all these (as erst 
* Neh. 4.7, 8.  Nehemiah had Sanballat and his complices) conspirators to hinder it: But now (thanks be to my God) after two years tedious travel, I have at length finished it. And since it has grown up hitherto under your Tuition, I do here also humbly commend it to you for its future preservation, and favour in publishing it: which if you please but deign me, I dare promise, its life shall prove so thankful unto you, as besides mine own prayers, procure you the blessings of many other souls for preserving it. To which great favour I shall only crave this one addition for the crowning of my desires, that I may always retain my wont privilege, in being ever  
Your Worship's faithful servant, to be commanded in the Lord jesus, Samuel Austin. From my Study in Exet●r College in Oxford, this 11. of April, being the day of our Saviour's Passion: 1628.   

TO THE CHRISTIAN READERS.  
Good Readers!  
FOr I write only to you that have, or at least desire earnestly to have a part in that glory which is already in part, and shall shortly be fully revealed:) I have here presented you with a birth, as far, I suppose, beyond your expectations, as it seems, beyond the abilities of my younger years: but howsoever, I shall entreat your kind acceptance of it, and crave you all to foster it up in your own bosoms; for I dare warrant you in the Lord, that if you but save it from death by your favourable warmings, it shall live to give you all wished thankfulness. If I should but tell you of those fearful conflicts I had in my travel of it, and my many grievous cares in nursing it hitherto, you would surely say, it were an inhuman impiety presently to stifle it. Pray peruse it well, and I hope, I shall not need much to speak for it; it hath tears enough of itself to enforce your pity; and is of so good a nature, you cannot well choose but foster it. If you imagine it is too fair to be mine, I shall not be so presumingly proud on selfe-abilitie, as quite to deny you: for I must confess indeed, I have had such large experience of mine own infirmities in the travel hereof, that I can attribute nothing unto myself, but the imperfections herein, and the glory of an instrument only in producing its better parts. I have been indeed as a common Father, as they say, in bringing forth the matter; but the form, life and soul of it was from God alone (the Father of life) to whose sole guiding and blessed aydance, I must always thankfully ascribe these my better performances. When I began this work, I intended only to treat of our Saviour's Passion, but I was so led away by that all-ruling Spirit of my God, that I ceased quickly from being mine own man in it, and brought this to pass which now you see, 
* Neh. 1.8.  (according to the good hand of my God upon me) both beyond mine own aims, and natural abilities. And now, dear Christian friends, I humbly beseech you in the Lord, for your faithful perusal of it: and may 
* Ephes. 1.17, 18.  the God of our Lord jesus Christ, the Father of glory, give unto you the Spirit of wisdom, and revelation in the knowledge of him, that the eyes of your understandings being enlightened, ye may know what is the hope of his calling, and what the riches of his inheritance in the Saints.  
Yours ever in the Lord jesus, S. A. From my Study the 11. of April. 1628.   

My Muse to my Censurers.  
YOu that are troubled with the Dog-disease,  
Pray read me o'er; then censure what you please.  
Urania.   

To that famous Nursery of Learning and Religion, my Mother Exeter College in Oxford, all happiness.  
GReat Mother of the Muses! (thou whose fame  
Hath long time been more glorious by the Name  
Of thy 
* Mr. Dr. P●id.  Learned Rector) let, I humbly pray,  
A worthless son of thine have leave to stray  
Abroad with his poor Muse a while, to sing  
A timely welcome to the weeping Spring.  
Let other Muses that derive their birth  
From foreign Springs, or from some base earth,  
Enslave their wits to toys of Love: but we  
Must be Divine that take our births from thee:  
My Muse shall sing of Heaven, and in thy praise,  
Great 〈◊〉, shall scorn the momentary bays  
Of perishing man's applause, which dies away  
W●●h those that give't, but she shall sing a Lay,  
Wh●●e Heau'n-borne wings shall raise thy Name so high,  
〈…〉 it live even through eternity.  
The unworthiest of thy sons, S. A.   

TO MY EVER HONOURED FRIENDS, THOSE MOST REFINED Wits and favourers of most exquisite learning, Mr. M. Drayton, Mr. Will. Browne, and my ingenious Kinsman, Mr. Andrew Pollexsen (all known unto me) and to the rest (unknown) the Poets of these times, S. A. wisheth the accomplishment of all true happiness.  
Augustine's advertisement.  
MY Noblest Friends! you that derive your birth  
From some thing that's more excellent than earth,  
From some sweet influence, or some Deity  
That lives above the base capacity  
Of ignorant Spheres (those rude untutored brains,  
That never travelled farther than their Plains  
To learn of aught, but Herds, and Flocks, or how  
They might dispose a Cart, or guide a Blow:)  
To you alone I write, what I of late  
Have scene and heard; the lamentable state  
Of these our latter iron times; and hence  
It is I speak from sad experience:  
The matter's this: Occasion did invite  
Me hence of late to take a Summers-sight  
Of our farre-famouzed London, where when I  
Was come, I took an opportunity  
For venting of these plaints of mine, which here  
My Vran ' hath brought forth with many a tear,  
And speakelesse pang of grief, with loss of time  
Most precious to my soul: (O that a rhyme  
So poor as this should cost so dear!) but lo,  
When I would fain have let these waters flow  
Abroad unto my Countrymen, I went  
To see how well our Stationers were bend  
To further me herein: but they reply,  
Sure 'twill not take, for 'tis Divinity:  
Poems divine are nothing worth; but if  
I had portrayed a pretty Sea of grief  
For some lost Mistress; or compos ' a toy  
Of love in verse, this would have been a Boy  
Worth the conception, each would take it up  
And play with it: or had I but a cup  
Of strong-breathed Satyrs mixed with spleen & gall,  
And could but pour it handsomely to fall  
Upon some high-mans' head, Oh, this would take  
e'en like Tobacco, each Barbours' shop would make  
A sale of it: or had I but the time  
Neatly to weave some loose-lascivious rhyme,  
Stuffed with conceits of wantonness, Oh then  
I had been called one of the Wits; for men  
Must have their humours, now they say; but this  
Is quite against them; every one will hiss  
It off the Stage. And is it so, thought I?  
Why then, 'tis time for our Divinity  
To stir herself, and speak in Verse if she  
Can aught persuade; O what a misery  
Is like to fall upon this age! when men  
Shall so forget themselves, as turn again  
To their first veins of childishness, and will  
Give any price to buy each toy of ill;  
But will not give a straw for good, although  
It be to save their very souls? What woe  
And horror's this, when men grow desperate,  
To buy damnation at so dear a rate,  
To pay a price for hell, but will not give  
A pin for heaven? O that my soul should live  
To see such dreary days as these! But now,  
Since things are so, what shall I say, or vow,  
Or do to make them otherwise? Why sure,  
Great friends! my present suit's to you, whose pure  
And heavenly essences do plainly say,  
You are Divine: let me presume to pray,  
And challenge you on all those bonds that be  
'Twixt God and you; 'twixt heaven's eternity  
In blissfulness, and your dear souls, that hence  
You aid me on with your high eloquence,  
And heau'n-commanding tenors, to reverse  
(If our Divinity can aught in Verse)  
Those strong opposing humours of this age,  
This wayward madness, this preposterous rage  
Of humane hearts which gape so greedily  
To swallow sin, and drink iniquity  
Like water (as the 
a job. 15.16.  Scripture speaks) but good  
They will not taste so much, lest their ill blood  
Should be 
b Infected, I say, because wicked men account goodness as grievous a plague to them, as the godly do wickedness, and therefore as carefully to be shunned, for fear it should disturb their former course of cursed merriment, and put them to the pains of blessed repentance, whereby they might live anew unto God, and be saved.  infected by't, and so perchance  
They might be drawn from hellish ignorance  
Into the glorious light of Grace, whereby  
They might be brought to heaven's felicity,  
Before they were aware of't. O my soul!  
What fury's this? How should we not control  
Such stupid waywardness, when now aday  
Men labour more (it seems) to find the way  
That leads to hell, then ever heretofore  
The Saints for heaven? O, how should I deplore  
This wretched hum'rousnesse? How should I chide  
My Countrymen for this, that they'll abide  
This cursed Achan to remain so long  
Within their tents, which hath done all the wrong,  
Our Country hath of late endured, howe'er  
Some ignorant brains think otherwise. But here,  
O that I might obtain but this of them,  
Which is, that these my deare-wise-Countrimen  
Would only duly think upon, and weigh  
The way wherein they go, knowing when they  
Have had their fills of vanity, at last  
They must expect a change, that fearful blast  
Of the last Trump will one day 
c Mat. 24.31. 1. Cor. 15.52.  sound, and then  
That dreary doom also will fall on them,  

d Mat. 25.41.  Depart from me ye cursed, and they must go  
Into those prisons of eternal woe,  
The deeps of everlasting hell, where they  
Shall be in pain beyond conceit; no day  
Or instant shall give ease to them, but still  
They shall drink up those poisonous drugs of ill,  
Hell's most revengeful torturings, if they  
Do not repent themselves while 'tis to day;  
I mean, ere deaths black night approach. O then  
Think you on this, my dearest Countrymen.  
And thou, dear Drayton! let thy aged Muse  
Turn now divine; let her forget the use  
Of thy erst pleasing tunes of love, (which were  
But fruits of witty youth:) let her forbear  
These toys, I say, and let her now break forth  
Thy latest gasp in heavenly sighs, more worth  
Than is a world of all the rest; for this  
Will usher thee to heavens eternal bliss:  
And let thy strong-perswasive strains enforce  
These times into a penitent remorse  
For this their sinful frowardness; and then  
Heaven shall reward thee, never care for 
e That is, the esteem, or respects of mere carnal men.  men.  
And honoured Willy, thou whose maiden strains  
Have sung so sweetly of the Vales and Plains  
Of this our Isle, that all the men that be  
Thy hearers, are enforced to honour thee,  
Yea, and to fall in love with thee; I say,  
Let me entreat thee to transport thy Lay  
From earth to heaven: for sure thy Muses be  
So good, the Gods will fall in love with thee,  
As well as men: beside, 'tis fit thy Lays  
Should scorn all Crowns, save heavens eternal Bays.  
Then bid the world farewell with 
f vid. Sydney's last Sonnet at the end of his Arcadia.  Sidney, (he  
That was the Prince of English Poesy,)  
And join with me (the worst of all thy train)  
To bring these times into a better strain.  
And dearest Pol'sfen, last of all the three,  
Which should be first by that affinity  
And interest that thou hast in me; I here  
Entreat thy help amongst the rest, whose dear  
And precious apprehensions reach so high,  
As nought but heaven, or pure Divinity  
Should be the subject of thy strains: for they  
Are far too good ere to be cast away  
On earth's base worthless vanities, which be  
At best but emblems of mortality,  
So soon they die, and quail away: but thine,  
Thy wits, I mean, are heavenly and divine  
Emblems of everlastingness, and can  
Create conceits were never formed by man,  
No, nor so much as thought upon, ere thou  
Thyself 'gainst being unto them: but now,  
Since things are thus proportioned out, I pray  
Come aid me with that heau'n-commanding sway  
Of thy high Verse, which rather will compel  
Men to be mad, then let them go to hell  
In such a childish hum'rousnesse; nay, will  
Enforce them to be good against their will,  
If they can be so dull, or void of sense,  
As not love goodness for selfe-excellence;  
Whose sweet and lovely fairness at first sight  
Without gainsay obtains a sovereign right  
o'er all ingenious hearts, at least if Grace  
Reside in them; then nothing else takes place.  
Come then, I say, dear Drayton, Browne and thou,  
And all the rest that ever made a Vow  
To keep the Muse's sacred Laws, come here  
And join with me, let neither love, nor fear  
Make you prove partial, till this 
g The ill humour which preferre● 〈◊〉 before goodness, in 〈◊〉 upon any ●ly respects 〈…〉  humorous rage  
Be banished quite from off our England's Stage:  
What shall I urge you more? or why entreat?  
Your Wisdoms see the cause is wondrous great,  
That craves your help; nay more, it craves the Pen  
And tongue of our best 
h Preachers, divinest Professors.  Angels too: for men  
Must not be humoured thus in ill: or if  
It should be so, sure, goodness then for grief  
Would run away, or hide herself, when she  
Should be discouraged thus, alas! and we  
That honour her, should not once dare to speak,  
O, 'twere enough to make our hearts to break.  
Be valiant then, my friends, and let all those  
That wish our England well, and hate her foes;  
Be of like mind with us, yea, those that be  
The 
i Chief Governors in Church and Commonwealth, who can do most in this case.  Princes of our Isle; so shall we see  
Our England flourish spite of Pope, and all  
That thirst with bloody hearts to see her fall.  
So Goodness shall prove Conqueror, but ill  
Shall not dare show itself within this Hill  
And holy Mountain of our God, which he  
Preserves by special providence; and we  
To see it thus, with gladsome hearts shall sing  
Our thanks to God, who raised so good a King  
To sit on our late David's Throne; and may  
He grow as great, as good, still let us pray:  
Yea, Peers, and all, join with my humble Pen,  
And so let all the people say, Amen.  
The true well-willer and servant of you all in the Lord jesus, S. A.   

Errata.  
Page 4. verse 27. for rhus, read thus. v. 36. for intrust, r. instruct p. 7. v. 9 for I'm, r. join. p. 8. v. 31. to say, in the beginning to be left out, and in the end, for happy, r. haply. p. 10. v. 39 for an Ambassage, r. in ambassage p. 24. v. 24. for the, r. thy. p. 25. vers. 6. for Son, r. Sun. p. 28. v. 18. for there, r. here. p. 32. vers. 30. for Son, r. Sun. p. 34. v 39 for gifts, r. griefs. p. 39 v. 27. for tremble, r. do tremble. p. 41. in the Margin, for Exod. 16. r. 19 p. 42. v. 21. for height, r. light. p. 52. v. 33. for hell, r. ill. p. 53. v. 39 for enough, r. enough.   

AVSTIN'S URANIA: OR THE HEAVENLY MUSE.  
THE CONTENTS.  
FIrst my URANIA from the Spring,  
Doth take occasion here to sing  
Our Saviour's Passion: but her rhyme  
Leaves that until a fitter time  

* Christ's passion more fully described in my second Book.  In my next book: from thence she hies  
To speak of Humane miseries  
By Adam's fall, and how the times  
Are now corrupted over with crimes:  
At length she falls with weeping eyes  
To treat of mine own miseries,  
Where she declares how first I fell  
Away from God, and lay in Hell  
As Prisoner fast, till his free Grace  
Released me from this woeful Case:  
Wherein a large dispute as 'twere,  
'twixt God and me, she doth declare  
My penitence, and how I lie  
As one that hath deserved to dye  
By laws just doom, but yet depend  
On His sole Grace: Thus doth she end  
My former book, and lets me lie  
To wait for mercies sweet Reply.  
I That had sat near famous Isis' shore  
The space of twice twelve moons, and somewhat more,  
And there had heard those Heavenly Muses sing  
That use to solace by that sacred Spring;  
At length I 'gan recall myself, and thought,  
What? shall I stand and hearken still for nought?  
Sure no; I will be doing too, although  
It cost me dear enough, much time, and woe:  
Come then, URANIA, come, thou sacred Maid,  
And Muse of Heaven, go onwards in the aid  
Of my great God, whose sole commanding spirit  
Shall always guide thee in thy ways aright;  
Go on, I say, in his sole strength, and sing  
This dreary Canto to the weeping Spring,  
A Song befitting well the time, I mean,  
The Story of that lamentable Scene,  
Which erst my Saviour acted here, whilst He  
Was yet on earth: Come then along with me,  
And bear a part, come quickly on, I say,  
For lo, my passions will no longer stay:  

* An allusion to the sorrow for the death of our late K. of blessed memory, K. james.  No sooner can an earthen Caesar dye,  
But Kingdoms flow in weeping Poesy,  
Our days are nighted, and the heavens o're-hung  
With sable clouds, as with compassion wrung  
Of what we feel, and seeming sad to rue  
Our great missehaps, distils a weeping dew  
To bear us company, while all our eyes  
Make silent tears to blab our miseries:  
And this the cause, we say, of dreary night,  
Our Sun is set, and we have lost his Light:  
Is't so indeed? And could that King of Kings,  
That Humane-God, of whom the 
* Luke 1.10.  Angel brings  
Such happy Tidings, and the noblest Trains  
Of Heaven's Musicians warbled out their Strains,  
To solemnize his Birth, (which then began  
To 
* Esai. 40.2.  preach Salvation to that Miser, Man)  
Could He, I say, be crucified, and die,  
Yet Man not melt into an Elegy?  
Obdurate Clay! so sweet a Sun to see,  
And not dissolve, but still more hardened be:  
Ah cursed cruel jews! where were yo● Scribes  
They could not write? What, blinded ●h your bribes,  
As were your Watchmen? Did you 〈◊〉 their eyes,  
For fear they should bewray your villainies  
By some sad Poem, writ with sable Tears  
Upon his death? Which when the people's ears  
Had heard, and how you'd shed his guiltless blood;  
They needs would wish their 
* jere. 9.1.  heads a Water-flood,  
To wash his wounds, and to bewail his loss,  
Whom causeless you thus tortured on the Cross:  
But, Tyrants, tell, how could you gaze on Him  
With tearless eyes, who suffered for your sin?  
Had you a heart, and could it choose but bleed?  
Or were you men, to act so vile a deed,  
As murder Him, whose very wounds did weep,  
To wash those sins that wounded you so deep?  
Or when you'd done't, I wonder, faithless Elves,  
With Judas, strait you had not hanged yourselves,  
To see your Tragic Action; or with speed  
If yet you lived, bewailed that horrid deed  
In lasting Tears of penitence, and all  
Turn sudden Mourners to his Funeral:  
But 'twas not so, your infidelity  
Was 
* Luk. 22.37.  fore-decreed from all eternity:  
You did this not by chance, but to fulfil  
The sacred 
* Act. 2.23.  Scriptures, and resistless will  
Of Heavens great Lawgiver: who gave you eyes  
To see and weep at others miseries:  
But stubborn you perverting all to ill,  
Did what you could to cross the Givers will,  
Blinded yourselves, and would not see the Light,  
Till forced you were by 
* Mat. 27.45. & Luke 23.44, 45. 〈◊〉 general Eclipse or darkness at our Saviour's Passion.  unexpected Night  
To see by opposites; As those your kin,  
Who ride in Poast the thorough fairs of sin  
With hoodwinked eyes, and dreaming all is well,  
Ne'er think on Heaven, until they feel a Hell:  
But then too late, alas, the smarting Rod  
Doth make them learn a Heaven and a God  
Such ill Disciples you, whose faithless hate  
Did play so long the wanton, till too late  
Sad Terror taught you Lectures, Heavens and all  
Did seem to check you, this Terrestrial Ball  
Did 
* Mat. 27.51  quake and tremble that it should sustain  
Yourselves, the Offspring of that cursed Cain:  
The Temple's veil, and very Rocks were rend,  
As touched with Passion, seeming to lament  
Your deeds, and wanting tongue and tears to plain,  
They broke their stony hearts for grief in twain:  
And glorious Titan Heavens allseeing Eye,  
The sad Spectator of this Tragedy,  
Withdrew itself, put on its sable weeds,  
(Wherewith it doth lament such dismal deeds)  
And all the 
* Rom. 8.19.  Creature clad in mourning black,  
Did sadly seem to mutter out its lack:  
Mean while a secret terror did invade  
The hearts of all, and an unwonted shade  
O're-vaild the Earth on sudden; all was Night,  
And reason good, the Sun that gave you Light,  
You banished from your Eyes, and would not see,  
Though wrapped (alas) in rags of misery,  
He came to be your object; but in vain,  
He had but hate, and labour for his pain:  
Just as his followers now that show his Light,  
They're 
* Psal. 22.3.3. & 4. sing.  overcome with hatred and Despite:  
Thus did you entertain Him with the cross,  
Wh● harmless suffered to redeem your loss:  
An●●lessed Saviour) thus with 
* Math. 27.46. & Mark 15 34.  piteous Cry  
He seemed to call on his Divinity,  
For aydance in that Agony, wherein  
He now lay gasping burned with the sin  
Of me and all the world, until at length  
His Godhead gave Him all sufficient strength,  
Whereby He overcame: which done, He cried  
'tis 
* Mat. 29.50. & joh. 19.30.  finished, gave the ghost, and thus He died.  
Here, passionary Eye, that deign'st to view  
My weeping Meeter writ with sable Dew,  
Come bear me company, and let thine Eye  
Afford me Ink to write his Elegy:  
Come weep by Art, make every tear a verse,  
The saddest now that ever hung on hearse:  
And solitary Muses bring your Trains  
Of skilfullest Mourners to intrust my brains  
With most Patheticke tenors, that my pen  
May Echo sorrow through the world again:  
And skilful passions come assist me now  
With sorrows sad Materials, show me how  
To frame a sable Monument for Him,  
Who paid his life a ransom for my Sin:  
Come weeping Mourners, Muses, Passions, all;  
Come solemnize with me his Funeral:  
His funeral? alas, where am I led  
To seek the 
* Luke 24.5.  living thus amongst the Dead?  
What Mary's passion hath possessed my brain,  
To hurry me thus up and down in vain  
To seek his grave? I'm quite out of the way,  
I have none Angel tells me, where he lay:  
Or if I had, what Marble Monument  
Can 
* 1. King's ●. 27. & 2. Chr. 2.6.  reach so high as be his Continent?  
Or were that Virgin 
* joh. 19.41, 42.  sepulchre wherein  
His Virgin body lay (so free from sin)  
Before mine Eye, yet sure my mazed wit  
Could never frame an Epitaph to fit  
That sacred Monument? for if that I  
Should write (as usual) Here He lies, I lie:  
For He is 
* Luke ●4. 6.  Risen, and I'm sure is gone  
To sit upon his everlasting Throne  
In highest Heavens, where Saints and Angels sing  

* Rom. 4.10, 11.  All Glory, Honour, Power, to Him as King.  
And surely He is worthy: But mine Eye  
Presumes too far in soaring up so high  
As 
* Reu. 6.1.  pry into the Heavens, and there to look  
On him that opens that seu'n-sealed book:  
I am not john, nor 
* Exod. 33. ●●, etc.  have I Moses face,  
Thus to presume ascend that holy place  
To gaze on God: Alas, I'm quite awry,  
To seek his Tomb, or write his Elegy:  
Ne'er Poet yet presumed to cast a verse  
Upon his grave: and shall I be perverse?  
Did they refrain, for fear they should bespot  
His undefilednesse with Inky blot  
Of nature's brain, which cannot reach so high  
As feign a Grave above Heaven's Canopy,  
Where nothing is corrupt? And shall my brain  
Presume to feign Him back on Earth again,  
To bury Him with Man, as though that He  
Might 
* Psal. 16.10.  see corruption as we sinners see?  
Oh no, I may not, Art and nature's Eye  
Stand quite amazed at this great Mystery  
Which faith alone conceives; my feebled sense  
Doth want, alas, the high intelligence  
Of Heavens pure Substances, which might indite  
A higher strain by far then Humans write:  
And here I want an Angels hallowed quill  
To be my Pen, and then I want to fill  
That sacred Pen, in stead of stayny Ink,  
Those Crystal Nectar's which the Blessed drink;  
The purest drops of that e're-liuing Fount  
Which issues from the 
* Reu. 22.1.  Holy Holy Mount  
Of God and of the Lamb: that so my Pen  
Soaring aloft above the eyes of Men,  
Might Touch his Tomb, and write an Elegy  
Beyond the limits of Mortality:  
All these I want, and here I fail in all,  
Fool that I was, to name his Funeral:  
But pardon, Saviour, pardon here I crave,  
That thus I erred in seeking out thy grave:  
I did it not to err, but 'twas to show  
My love unfeigned to Thee, to whom I owe  
Myself and all I have; and sure mine eine,  
Had they but seen that sacred Tomb of thine,  
Would thought them blest to weep ere they we're dry,  
Thereon to write with tears thine Elegy;  
Might these my tears as 
* Luke 7.38, 47. sem: Marry Magdalen.  Mary's show to Thee  
I loved thee much, that didst so much for me:  
Somewhat I fain would do thee ere I die,  
That I might part with thee in misery,  
Who partest with me in blisses; but 'tis vain,  
I must receive, yet cannot pay again  
Without thy help, and then my pay shall be  
None other but the same 
* 1. Ch. 29.14.  I had of Thee:  
And thus thy favours have o'ercome me quite,  
I know not what to say, or what to write:  
Thy grave I may not seek, or fly so high,  
To blot thy pureness with my Poesy:  
The Heavens thy Monument, the blessed Trains  
Of Saints and Angels stead of mourning strains,  
Proclaim thy triumphs in their sacred lays,  
Where 
* Reve. 5.11, 12.  every pious period Echoes praise;  
Which sweetly seems to lull Heavens souls asleep,  
And steals away their tears they cannot weep:  
A fit Consort, so high an Harmony,  
Or none should dare proclaim thy victory:  
And, Blessed jesus, let this soul of mine  
Though now in flesh imprisoned, yet in fine  
〈◊〉 with these blessed Choristers, and sing  
All honour, glory, to my God and King:  
Mean while I crave, although my feeble Eye  
May not stand gazing at thy Deity,  
Yet teach it see thy passions, teach it see  
The wondrous things which thou hast done for me:  
Say but the word, and this my worthless pen  
Shall tell such wonders to the ears of men,  
When it reports thy favours, that thy Glory  
Shall be far greatned by my Infant Story:  

* Exod. 3.11.  For who am I, alas? my childish brain  
Hath nothing in itself but what is vain:  
How dare I speak, or write? my 
* Esai. 6.5.  mouth and quill  
Are both alike be inked over with ill:  
My very 
* Gen. 6.5.  thoughts are evil, all my man  
Corrupted is; I neither will, nor can  
The thing that's good, and yet by Thee I will  
This very good I do, and cannot ill:  
Here show thy power, lest, now I have begun,  
I fail before the half my work be done:  
Call me, as erst thy 
* 1. Sam. ●. 4● etc.  Samuel from his sleep,  
And as thy 
* 1. Sam. 16.11, 12. & Psal. 78.70, 71.  David from his flock of sheep,  
To sing thy praises: Let my Poesy  
Be as the words of 
* jer. 9.1, etc.  weeping Jeremy,  
To pierce the stoniest heart, and to invite  
The dullest Ears attention when I write:  
Thy Spirit be my Urania, to distil  
Such sacred Measures into this my quill,  
That every line it writes may reach a strain  
Beyond the high conceits of Nature's brain;  
To show from whence it came; and then my Lays  
Shall still be Echoes of my Maker's Praise:  
And when our bravest Poets chance to see  
The virtue of Diviner Poesy,  
They'll change their Tenors all, and glory most,  
To be the Penman of the Holy Ghost.  
And now in brief, I'll show, if ought I can,  
The many favours thou hast done for Man;  
But chiefly those thy favours since his Fall;  
Nor mine, nor Moses pen can utter All:  
When first my Speculations fled so high  
With Eyes of faith to see thy Deity,  
My reason was o'ercome, and I amazed  
Was forced to seek the thing at which I gazed:  
I seekt, and saw't; but all I saw (alas)  

GOD described according to man's apprehension of Him: Negatively.  Was this, there was a God, but what He was  
I could not see, unless by Opposite,  
And so He was a Being Infinite,  
Because not finite: for His Excellence  
Doth far transcend our weak Intelligenc●  
I saw well what He was not, for I'm sure,  
He was not aught dependent or impure  
As wretched Humans wee; He was not aught  
That felt our passions, or with curious thought  
Was ever vexed for want, 
* Deu. 10.14. job 41.11. & Psal 24.1 etc.  for all was His,  
Who 
* Gen. 1. ch●.  gave to all their being and their bliss:  
In brief, He was not any thing that can  
Be properly attributed to Man,  
Or to Inferiors, which might ought imply  
An imperfection, or dependency.  
These Negatives I saw, but here I stay,  
I could not see th' Affirmatives, to say,  
To say that this, or this He was; lest happy I  
Should seem to lessen much his Deity,  
By these ●y weak assertions: But at length  
It pleased this God of's goodness give me strength  
To find him out, as good, he'll not deny  
To those that seek him in sincerity:  
He wills me 
* joh. 5.39.  search the Scriptures, overlook  
The secret volumes of that sacred Book  
(Wherein (most Gracious) He vouchsafes to show  
As much as Humans ought, or need to know  
Concerning Him, till his Eternal Grace  
Immortals us to 
* 1. Cor. 13▪ 12. & 1. job. 3.2.  see Him face to face:)  

* 1. Cor. 13▪ 12. & 1. job. 3.2.  And thither then I went, where soon as I  
Had entered in, and with a mazed Ey  
Had looked on Moses writ, my feeble sense  
Was quite o'ercome at his Omnipotence:  
For there I saw how first He did begin  
To make the spacious 
* Gen. 1.1, etc.  Heavens, and earth, (wherein  
He placed Man as 
* Vers. 28.  Lord to rule and sway  
O'er all the rest, until he fell away  
By faithless disobedience to his Prince,  
From whom he had his right; and ever since  
He proved disloyal to the Deity,  
He hath been heir of nought but misery:)  
But when I had reviewd this goodly Ball  
Of Earth, and Heaven, with furniture and all  
Pertaining to't, as my unhappy Sire  
Sometimes in Paradise, I had desire  
To know beyond my reach, the matter whence  
This all was made of, but my forward sense  
Was quickly overtopped: for there mine Eye  
Began at first to see my misery  
Within these sacred Axioms: there I saw  
A newfound Generation, 
* Which was that the World was made of a pre-existent Ma●ter or Chaos; as Ovid: or that it was Eternal, as Aristotle, etc.  Nature's law  
Erst feigned was quite abolished, all this frame  
Was made of nought but nothing, for that Name  
Of God 
* Psal. 33.9.  was all in all; till Gracious He  
Willing the Creature should a partner be  
In his exceeding goodness, spoke the 
* Quicquod erat, Deus illud erat, etc. Lermaeus in his Translation of Barta's Week.  word,  
The earth, and Heavens were made, and all accord  
To do his will, who wills what ere he lists,  
And when He wills, there's nothing that resists:  
For He is Lord of all, and all within  
This Universe hath nothing but from Him;  
For all was nothing, till it pleased him say,  
Let it be so; and should He take away  

* Psal. 104.9.  His face a while, behold, this goodly frame  
Would turn into that nothing whence it came.  
And (silly wretch) There began to view  
My Nakedness, which made me sad to rue  
My poor estate, that durst not write one Line,  
To tell the world that this, or this was mine:  
For I was not mine own, but at his will  
Who gave me all I had, besides mine ill:  
And this my Parents gave, when erst their eyes  
Were oped (as mine) to see their miseries:  
A cursed gift, alas, but yet 'twas all  
(Poor Souls) they had, after their hapless fall:  
For soon as they had trespassed on that Tree,  
Which God forbade them 
* or Ea●e, in the Text: Gen. 2.17.  touch, their simple fee  
In Paradise was lost, their former state  
Was voided quite, both Adam and his Mate  
Were 
* Gen. 3 last.  tumbled out at doors, and all they had  
Was ta'en away, only they kept the bad:  
And this's that cursed portion which they left  
Unto their Issues, who no sooner reft  
Of 
* sc. first Integrity.  what their Parents had, but as in spite  
They'd vowed to war against the Lord of might,  
From whom they had their being, all in rage  
They began at once to rush upon the Stage:  
took up their Father's Action, laid a plot  
To make complete what Adam acted not:  

* A Theatre of all Mankind after Adam's Fall, described in their several conditions.  Successively they come, each enters in  
Bedight with various Robes of Scarlet Sin,  
To act their several ills; each takes his place,  
The greatest he that is the least by Grace:  
Here comes a Tyrannising 
* Psal. 2.2.  King, and there  
A flattering Courtier lulls him in the ear:  
Your Majesty is wise to lop away  
Such perching Twigs as these, that durst gainsay  
Your high decrees; for be they good or ill,  
It is enough for Kings to say, We will.  
Next enter in the Nobles, Dukes and Earls,  
Viscount's and Lords bedecked with gold and pearls,  
All draw their swords in fury, and combine  

1. Swearers & Blasphemers & Cursers.  To fight against that One-Eternall-Trine:  
This vomits out such horrid oaths, and words,  
As pierce far deeper than a thousand swords:  

2. Honour abused.  That sends an Ambassage, an angry frown,  
To tell the weaker they must needs go down,  
'Cause he is rising higher, and 'twere best  
They murmur not, if that they mean to rest:  
Some others that have got a Treasury 
3. Usury, bribery, and the like obliquities.   
By lawless means, Extortion, Usury,  
By bribry or the like, and with the same  
Have bought themselves an honourable Name, 
4. Pride, especially odious to God and Man.   
Look up aloft, and scorn to stoop so low,  
As look on them whom they were wont to know:  
'tis high disgrace they think, to cast an eye  
Away on such as are in misery:  
And if poor souls for grief of heart they say  
The Men are proud, 'twere good they run away:  
For they will have their tongues that dare to prate  
So lavishly on Men of their Estate:  
They'll force them eat their words, and what they see,  
They must not say 'tis ill, although it be,  
If touching them; but 'tis a Mystery,  
Or some high point of their Nobility:  
Thus pride the hatefulst of the rest is fled  
So high, that it begins to take a head  
Above our reach, and 
* Esai. 2.12, 13, 17.  proudly seems to call  
Some heavy judgement on this wicked all.  
Scarce these were silent, but there came in haste  
Three roaring Knights, Each bragging of the waste  
That he had made: this tells how he had spent  
Some three or four hundred pounds of rent  
Per Annum, on his whores, his hawks, his hounds; 
5. Prodigality in whoring, hunting, drinking, eating, carding, dicing.   
And thus proclaims how he bade sold his grounds,  
(The Right his Father left him) all to buy  
A thousand tricks to nourish luxury:  
Another boasts that he had thrown away  
So much upon the cards and dicing play,  
As ere he knew Godliest of them all  
Bestow in building up an Hospital:  
'twas I, said one, did best, another, I,  
The last would needs be first in villainy;  
Thus all would have the Mastery, and say  
'twas I that won the glory of the day.  
Next follow in the Gentry, all bedight  
With armour of unrighteousness, to fight  
Against their Lord and Maker; every Limb  
Had vowed itself a servant unto Sin:  
Then come the vulgar, and the rustic crew  
With Bills and Staffs, and Malberts to pursue  
As 
* Mat. 26.47.  erst the wicked jews, and still they add  
Some ten times worse unto the former bad:  
Thus Kings and Nobles, all the hateful train  
Meet here at once, and take their oaths again,  
To actuate at full ere they had done  
Th' unhappy Scene that Adam had begun.  
Here might you see, (if that a humane Eye  
Could tearless gaze upon a Tragedy  
Filled with such horrid Actions) every part  
Set forth with newfound evils, Satan's Art  
Was eminent in all, they played so well,  
That every one could act himself to Hell:  

* How far the men of these corrupt times exceed Adam in their sins.  Adam was nothing, had he been but here  
Amongst this rout, it scarcely would appear  
That ere he did a fault, his lowly lapse  
Would ne'er been heard amongst these thunderclaps:  
And should I speak, sure 'twere not much amiss,  
His ill was good in reference to this;  
For he at first, it seems, had but a will  
To know the difference 'twixt the good and ill,  
And sure his aims in this were good to stray,  
If that he had not sinned to disobey:  
But when he'd erred thus, his opened eye  
No sooner saw, then saw his misery:  
This was his recompense, his knowledge taught  
Himself to know that he was worse than naught:  
But when he'd seen his fault, I do not doubt,  
His eye again wept tears to wash it out:  
But these had other aims, their imbred spite  
Was only darted 'gainst the Lord of might,  
To pull him down from Heaven, as if that they  
Could authorise what e'er they did or say,  
With 
* Psal. 12. ●●  Who shall us control? Their wicked will  
Did aim at nothing else but what was ill:  
Good was a Paradox, as strange to them  
As sin at first to Adam was; for when  
They'd knowledge once of ill, they never had  
The least desire to know what was not bad;  
As Adam on the contrary to know  
(Who knew alone the good) what was not so:  
They've found a stranger Art to know, for still  
They learn new differences 'twixt ill and ill:  
And just as Adam's heart was set on fire  
To know his Novelty, so they desire  
To know these ills which erst they never knew,  
And seem by sinning to make evil new:  
Old ills are out of date, they highly scorn  
To wear the threadbare evils which were worn  
By their Progenitors, they'd have it known,  
The evils that they were are all their own:  
And they have found new fashions out to fit  
The various Genius of each wicked wit  
That seeks for Novelties, they're so complete  
In ill, they cannot sin without conceit:  
'twere base, they think, to act a common sin,  
Unless they shut some twenty more therein  
By their Re-Acts, and so when they have done't,  
To send it out again with Comments on't:  
The dullest brain that never yet had wit  
To do least good, shall scorn but he'll commit  
An ill as well as any of them all,  
That studied sinning since old Adam's fall:  
he'll show you ills which never yet were known,  
And without lying swear they are his own:  
Thus cursed Man doth do his best to fill  
The woeful measures of his Father's ill:  
Sin overflows already, yet in spite,  
They fain would have their Actions infinite,  
Would time permit; O had they eyes to see  
The dismal Issues of their misery!  
Here Adam could instruct them, but (alas)  
Their hearts are stones, their 
* Esay 47.4.  brows rebellious brass,  
They will not turn aside, 'tis vain to speak,  
They scorn to how, before they needs must break:  
They're always digging deeper to invent  
Some newfound malice 'gainst th' Omnipotent:  
They're always eating the forbidden tree,  
And yet with Adam will not learn to see  
Their wretchedness; but think that all is well,  
Till they are falling headlong into Hell;  
From whence there's no return, but they must be  
The Subjects of Eternal misery:  

* The examination of myself.  And here, alas, I'd scarcely drawn mine eye  
From sadly gazing on this Tragedy,  
But with reflection I began to look  
Within the secret volumes of the book  
Of this mine own estate; where soon as I  
Had looked, I read a Map of misery  
Described by my faults: for lo, within  
I saw enwrapped a little world of sin:  
First I began with weeping eye to see  
From whence I did derive my Pedigree;  
And when I'd seen that I was Adam's son,  
I thought upon the deeds that I had done,  
To see my Reference to him, and there  
I saw indeed that I was Adam's heir:  
Heir of his ills, and of his misery,  
Which he bequeathed to his Posterity,  
When first he fell away; for since that Time  
We all had equal portions in his Crime:  
And 'twas his will confirmed by his Deed,  
To multiply his sin, as well as Seed:  
I saw, alas, how I had gone astray  
In Adam's path, and learnt to disobey  
Without a Schoolmaster, I saw my will  
Inclinable to nothing else but ill:  
Sometimes I saw there did a holy fire  
Insinuate my soul, and my desire  
Was throughly ravished with a love of good;  
But suddenly there comes a freezing flood  
Of fleshy thoughts, which quickly overcame  
Th' aspiring Motions of that sacred flame:  
My courage slacked, my forward-seeming zeal  
Hath hanging wings, a drowsiness begins steal  
o'er all my thoughts, and seems to dispossess  
My soul of that new glimpse of happiness.  
And here no sooner were mine eyes bereft  
Of those sweet Sunshines by the cloudy theft  
Of imbred dulness; but me thinks I see  
Another good more pleasing unto me  
Then erst the former was, which doth affect  
My sense so much, that strait my Intellect  
Is carried quite away, I know not how  
To do my passions homage, and allow  
With willing blindednesse, to give consent  
In doing what my reason never meant.  
And thus, alas, my poor Intelligence,  
Which erst was high commander of the sense,  
Is now disscepterd quite, and led away  
As thrall to passion, forced to obey;  
Where once it did command, and must approve  
For good, what ere the senses please to love.  
Thus miserable wretch I run along  
Still aiming at the right, but hit the wrong:  
My senses are corrupted, heart and all  
Have drawn infection from my Father's fall:  
And as that happy 
* Mat. 25.16.  Steward skilled to thrive,  
Did add unto his Talents other five,  
To show his frugalnesse, so may I write,  
But in a case, alas, quite opposite:  
He did increase his good, but h●plesse I  
Have added to my sin and misery,  
A rhousand talents more than Adam left  
To me, and yet I added none by theft;  
For they were all mine own, I must confess,  
The bitter fruits of mine unrighteousness:  
I thought it not enough to have from him  
The Originary habit of my sin,  
But needs I would be sinning too, to add  
Some Actuals to th' Originals I had:  
And here I wrought so well, that I could say,  
My labours had prevented much the day:  
For e'er the Noon-tide of my life was come,  
I could have truly said my Task was done:  
I wanted not an ill to add to it,  
To make it greater, though I might commit  
Some more (perchance) the like, to multiply  
The woeful actions of my Tragedy:  
Thus in unhappy thriftiness I grow  
From ill to ill, from misery to woe:  
But here's my hell, alas, I cannot see  
Before I'm forced to feel my misery:  
I run along with senseless drowsiness,  
Th' alluring maze of sin, and wickedness,  
Which seems as 'twere a Paradise to me,  
Still offering fruit of that forbidden Tree,  
Full 
* Gen. 3.6.  pleasing to mine Eyes, so good a meat  
In show, I cannot choose but take and eat:  
But when alas, I've swallowed down the pill,  
My Conscience begins to tell me I am ill:  
Then, not before, it wakes me from my sleep,  
And gives me eyes to see, but not to weep  
At mine unhappiness; what greater grief  
To see one's wounds, not able beg relief?  
To have a sore disease, not feel the smart,  
Are premises of Death: the stony heart  
That sees his ill, yet doth not melt within,  
Portends its frozen in the dregs of sin:  
Even such my woeful case (alas) while I  
Go wand'ring on this maze of vanity;  
I run into a thousand ills with ease,  
There's nothing seems to hinder, or disease  
My goings on in these, but all is well  
Till I am come even to the gates of Hell:  
For when I've sinned, me thinks a lump of Lead  
Lies heavy on me, I am throughly dead  
And cannot feel myself, I canno● feel  
Whether my heart be made of flesh or steel:  
And yet again me thinks, I fain would weep  
To moan myself; but then I am asleep:  
My grief is such, it will not let me see  
That I am sick, till dead in misery:  
A secret dulness doth possess my brain,  
I needs would stir myself, but all in vain,  
My life of Grace is gone away; but then  
I look behind me, feign I'd out again  
From this my dismal Labyrinth, wherein  
I now am wand'ring on from sin to sin:  
But when I turn me backward, there, alas,  
I see the way so straight, I cannot pass;  
I look besides me then, turn all about,  
But still I'm clogged, I see, and cannot out.  
Here comes the World to meet me in the way,  
And calls me fool, that thus I'd seem to stray  
From out her paths; quoth she, Y'are quite undone,  
To seek for goodness: would you be my son,  
Or have preferment? Go●, you are unwise  
To make a conscience, or to be precise:  
I'll teach you better learning; get you skill  
To flatter well, and do what e'er is ill;  
Or to be plain, ne'er look me in the face,  
If that you wander after new-come Grace.  
Then comes the flesh, and offers to mine eye  
A thousand sweets; and who is 't would deny  
Such goodly proffers? which I must not have,  
If I'll not back again, and be made slave  
To sin and wickedness; but if I will,  
I shall have freely all the goods of ill.  
Then Satan comes, my grandest enemy,  
To draw me back again to vanity  
By his bewitching spells; he slyly looks  
Into my thoughts, and then he baits his hooks  
With what most likes me: but he represents  
Mine eyes at first with thousand discontents  
That lie in goodness straits; he makes me see  
The fearful image of my misery:  
Assoon as e'er I enter, lo, my heart  
Begins to beat, my wounds begin to smart,  
And new-felt tortures touch me to the quick,  
Thus goodness gives me eyes to see I'm sick:  
But if I'll further yet in good, he tells,  
My labour is in vain, for he hath spells  
Will draw me back again, and then 't were best  
I go with him, or else I shall not rest  
One day in quiet. Here he begins to show  
The many wants, the miseries, and woe  
That follow goodness heels, and there I see  
A thousand other blocks that hinder me:  
Here wicked thoughts disturb me; there again  
I feel the gripings of my new-come pain:  
Here pleasures dainties come invite mine eyes  
To gad abroad on thousand vanities;  
I swallow up her cates, but then I find,  
Though honey to my mouth, yet in my mind  
They seem as gall and wormwood: thus I see  
I'm daily eating fruits of Adam's tree;  
And thus (alas) the more I would be good,  
I always see the more I am withstood:  
But if I'll on with Satan, all is well,  
There's nothing hinders then; the way to hell  
Is wondrous pleasing: first, he shows to me,  
There's neither want, nor woe, nor misery  
Within his Paradise; the path is fair,  
The walks delightsome, and so sweet an air  
As heart can wish; for pleasures do attend  
The walkers all along, even to the end.  

* My relapse.  I heedless enter in, and give consent  
To go into my quondam prisonment:  
A prisonment? oh no; I run at will,  
I have a thousand ways to walk in ill,  
Where's erst I had but one in good, and now  
I run about, and live I care not how:  
I'm senseless of my former ills, and here  
I can offend, yet never need to fear:  
Sin where, or what I will; me thinks I feel  
No more, then though my heart were made of steel.  
Mine enemies and I am friends, for they  
Companion me along in all my way,  
Whilst I am straying thus: but if I turn  
Aside to good, my heart begins to burn,  
And they are vexing me; I feel again  
The sad reviuals of my former pain:  
" Sure then said I, He that would needs be good,  
" Shall never keep himself in 
* S●. in the mirth of the world.  merry mood,  
As this world goes. Then Goodness here God bye,  
If this be good to live in misery▪  
I'll none of you, no, rather I'll be ill,  
If that be so to do what e'er one will  
Without control, to run so sweet a race,  
I care not I, how far I go from Grace:  
And thus I yield, alas, and thus am led  
As willing captive, down unto the dead.  

* My Vocation, or Calling from God, after my fall, and captivity to fame.  But here behold, when I had quite gi'n o'er,  
And strength was gone, and I could fight no more;  
When Satan by his Politician-spell  
Had bound me fast unto the jaws of Hell,  
As in a slumber, strait me thinks I hear  
A living Trumpet rounds me in the ear,  
With, Silly man, awake, Lo, I am He  
That out of nothing first created thee,  
Even like 
* Gen. 1.27. Eccles. 7.29.  myself in holiness; but thou  
Hast sought out new inventions, carest not how  
Thou disobey'st my voice; thy foolish eye  
Hath wandered after nought but vanity  
Even from thy Youth; yet nothing is amiss  
Thou think'st, because thou hast a seeming bliss:  
Fondling, thou art deceived; thy feeble sense  
May haply sooth thee, seeming to dispense  
With these thy errors; but my purer eye  
Both sees thy hidden sins and misery.  
Up, drowsy Soul, awake; hast thou forgot  
Whence thou hadst being, as thou hadst it not?  
Where are thy quondam speculations? Where  
Is now that Eagle-eye of faith, while're  
That gazed upon the Sun, and climbed so high  
The steepy mountains of Heaven's canopy,  
To apprehend a God? Come, let me see,  
Whether thy bastard eyes can gaze on me:  
'Twas I that took thee from 
a Ps. 22.9, 10.  thy Mother's womb,  
And ever since preserved thee from thy tomb,  
Where thou wast often falling: and 'twas I  
That guided thee with my ne'r-sleeping eye  
Of Providence: but thou 
b Ps. 32.8, 9  like Horse or Mule,  
Didst always make vagaries from my Rule,  
Till I was glad restrain thee by my Bit,  
Affliction (that which taught 
c 2. Chron. 33.12.  Manasses wit.)  
'Twas I that fed thee with my choicest meat,  
With purest milk, with finest of the wheat:  
For these, and all are mine; yea, every day  
Can tell my favours; every night can say,  
'Twas I that did 
d Psal. 3.5. & 4.9.  sustain thee, and 'twas I  
That have been with thee from thine infancy,  
With many feeling comforts, which did tell,  
While thou wast in my favour, all was well:  
Then all indeed was well, but now I see,  
Thou play'st the truant, runnest away from me,  
As wanton Asses use their Dams, when they  
Have sucked their fill, they kick and run away.  
Go, Wanton, go; keep on thy foolish race,  
Till thou hast run thyself quite out of Grace,  
As others out of breath; I give thee leave  
To see how well thou canst thyself deceive:  

e An apt simile.  As when the tender Mother steps aside,  
And lets her infant go without a guide;  
It straggles in and out until it falls,  
And breaks a shin or brow: but than it calls,  
Good mother, come and help; and she must run,  
Or else the weeping infant is undone:  
So have I dealt with thee, I left thee go  
To seek thy will, to wander to and fro,  
In this thy maze of vanity, till thou  
Hadst done more harm than broken shin or brow,  
Thy falls were greater far, for every one  
Did show thou wast a Rebel, not a Son:  
Yet as a Father, I with pitying hand  
Did often raise thee up again to stand:  
But thou more childish still, even from on high  
Wouldst fall so low, thou wast not able cry:  
And such is now that dismal case, wherein  
Thou liest thus senseless in the deep of sin;  
Where I could justly leave thee to thy will,  
Until thou hadst thy recompense of ill,  
In Lakes of burning 
a Reuel. 21.8  brimstone, which do fry  
That damned rout▪ whose 
b Mark. 9.44.  worm shall never die.  
But I a God of 
c Exo. 34.6, 7.  mercy am, and show  
A thousand favours where I nothing ow.  

d Exo 33.19. Rom. 9.15.  I favour whom I favour; and I give  
My graces freely: whom I will, shall live.  
Then, miserable man, awake, and see  
The wondrous things that I have done for thee:  
And now bring forth thy arguments, for I  
Will here dispute it with Humanity.  

e job. 38.3.  Gird up thy loins, and she thyself a man;  
Or bring thy new distinctions, if they can  
Plead for thy righteousness; here let me see,  
I 
f job 38.3.  will demand, come thou and answer me.  

g God's expostulation, job 38.4, 6, etc.  Where wast thou, when I first began to frame  
This earthly Round? and what was then thy name?  
Or canst thou tell, who laid the cornerstone  
Of this foundation, when there yet was none?  
And where were then thy footsteps? What wast thou?  
If thou hast understanding, tell me now.  
I see thou art confounded: stupid sense  
Stands quite amazed at such intelligence.  
Come, I will show thee; Ere this goodly Ball  
Had being, I myself was all in all,  
As erst I told thee by that sacred Writ  
Of faithful Moses, 
h Psal. 103.7.  whom I did permit  
To see my glorious Acts; and by his pen,  
To tell my wonders to the sons of men.  
I had no creatures then; for solely I  
took perfect solace in selfe-Deitie.  
I needed not a help; for all was mine:  
And all this All, was nothing but Divine.  
But afterwards, 
When, and how all things were created.  with time I did begin  
To make this Universe, and all therein,  
As I had fore-determined; to show  
How far my boundless goodness meant to flow.  
All were partakers of it; all could say,  
That were the works of every several day,  
We all are good; what need we further go  
To tell you why? Our 
i Gen. 1.31.  God hath named us so.  
And thee, O man, (most thankless of the rest)  
I freely made to be my chiefest Guest,  
And Steward in this All: I gave thee life,  
Which I denied the Elements, (whose strife  
Resembles brethren's hatred) and the Stone,  
And growthlesse Minerals; for they had none.  
And then I gave thee Sense, which I denied  
To Trees and Plants, and whatsoever beside  
Bears not the name of Animal. And then  
I gave (what sole was proper unto men)  

k To distinguish it from intuitive reason: because we say, that God and the Angels are also reasonable; but it is Ratione intuitiu●, not discursiuâ, as Divines say.  Discursive Reason, which I did deny  
To brutish beasts. I caused thee 
l O● homini sublime dedit, ●oelumque tut● iussit, etc. Ouid. Meta●.  look on high  
Towards me thy God, to meditate and see  
Those wondrous things that I had done for thee.  
And more, because I'd make thee wondrous fair,  
I did 
m Gen. 2.7.  inspire thee with a sacred air  
Of everlasting life; that thou couldst say,  
I once had privilege to live for aye.  
But wouldst thou vainly elevate thy head,  
To seek the stately Palace, or the Bed,  
The Chair of State, or the delightsome Clime  
Which thou possess'dst before the womb of Time?  
Or wouldst thou know thy being, and what thou wast  
Before that 
n Gen. 1.3. God's free goodness notable in preferring us before other creatures.  Fiat, yet my Word was passed?  
Fool, I will tell thee, do but answer me  
What Palaces in no place situate be?  
Such Palaces, Bed, Chair, and such a Clime,  
Thou didst possess before the womb of Time.  
And for thyself, since needs thou wilt presume  
To fly so lofty with so base a plume,  
As seek thy being? then behold thy nest  
Which thou bewray'st, thou wast a beast at best:  
For you alike both nothing were; and than  
Tell me the difference 'twixt a beast and man,  
When All a nothing was. Here, Idiot, see  
The wondrous things that I have done for thee.  
'Twas not thy goodness; for thyself hadst none,  
No more than Beasts, or Vegetals, or Stone:  
For you were nothing, all alike to me,  
That caused me thus to fix my love on thee,  
Or set thee 'boue the rest; but 'twas my will  
And pleasure thus to do, and so fulfil  
What I had fore-decreed, that men might know  
How far the currents of my bounty flow:  
For I am bound to none, but all to me.  
Here see the favours I have done for thee!  
But when I had created thee as 
f Gen. 1.28.  Lord  
O'er all my household, who with one accord  
Became as ready servants to thine hand,  
And gave obeisance when thou didst command.  
As some 
g Mat. 25.14, etc. A fit Simile.  great Master going far away  
To foreign Countries, telling not the day  
Of his return, commends his goods and ware  
To the disposure, and the thriving care  
Of his chief Steward, to employ the same  
With greatest gains under his Master's name,  
Until he come again; but then he finds,  
That all his goods are left unto the winds;  
His servant plays the unthrift, 
h Luk. 12.45, 46.  spends away  
He cares not what, ne'er dreaming of the day  
Wherein his Master comes; but now at last  
He comes indeed, but when he sees the waste  
The careless Steward made, without delay  
He reaves him of his office, takes away  
His goods and honours from him, and the man  
He shackles fast in prison, till he can  
Make satisfaction, where he justly lies  
To suffer penance for his luxuries.  
Or as the haughty Rabbis of this Time  
Which grow so fast in that adulterous clime  
Of superstitious Rome (and some there be,  
O England, that have residence in thee;)  
Who take the wealth I gave them for the poor,  
(Christ's members here on earth) and to restore  
The brokenhearted, such as Orphans be  
That languish in extremes of poverty,  
Or other griefs; and 
i Gal 6.10.  as my servant saith,  
To feed especially my house of Faith:  
And glut their coffers with 't, or throw't away  
In gaudy days, in meats and rich array,  
To pamper up the flesh, and to maintain  
The proud conceptions of a whorish brain:  
While these poor souls (seeming with silent cries  
By tears and sighs to tell their miseries,  
Where's else they durst not speak) are almost dead,  
Some wanting raiment, others wanting bread.  
But lo, the Day of reckoning comes, and then  
The Master will return unto these men  
To see their stewardships, but when he finds  
Their Talents thus consumed, he takes and binds,  
And 
k Mat. 25.30, 41.  casts them with a curse from out his sight,  
Into the pit of everlasting night,  
Where they have justly thralled themselves to s●y,  
'Cause Prodigals they've nothing left to pay.  
Even so, O Man, I dealt with thee; for I  
Did give thee all thou hast, to glorify  
My Name therewith: but thou, to cross my will,  
Hast spent away my Talents all in ill.  
Those eyes I gave thee to behold and see  

The eyes right use.  The wondrous works that I had done for thee,  
To look on thine own miseries, and then  
By due reflections lift them up again  
To see my wondrous mercies, which would give  
Eternal solace to thy soul, and drive  
Base worldly objects quite away; and this  
Would sweetly lead thee to my Land of bliss,  
Hadst thou but followed it; for this would keep  
The liveless soul from that Lethean sleep  
Of carnal drowsiness (the Hell wherein  
They live that place their paradise in sin)  
This would have kept thee in so sweet an awe  
Of me, thou wouldst not dare to break my Law,  
Thy love would be so great; and thy delight  
Would only be to walk my ways aright:  
Sometimes in pity-thou wouldst send thine eye  
Abroad to those distressed souls that lie  
In deeps of discontents, that thou mightst be  
A fellow-partner in their misery;  
To 
l Rom. 12.15  weep with them that weep, and to compart  
With every one that hath a broken heart;  
And this indeed would prove so good a pill,  
In purging out the relics of thine ill,  
That nothing could annoy thee▪ for thine eye  
Would scorn to look so low as vanity,  
Whose Basliske-sight infects the heart, and kills  
The very soul with thousand poisonous ills.  
But as those windows that admit the light  
Into the rooms of former drowsy night:  
Such would thy seers be, an oped place  
To give admittance to the Son of Grace,  
Whose sacred beams would quickly dispossess  
That great Ill-willer to thy happiness,  
The Prince of darkness, and withal expel  
Those drowsy clouds, which made thy house a hell  
To entertain him in: and when thy sight  
Had but a glimpse of that eternal Light,  
Thy soul with Eli, throwing down the cloak  
Of cloggy flesh, which always strives to choke  
Thy better thoughts, would quickly soar on high  
To that fair City of eternity,  
Where I have special residence, and there  
When thou hadst gazed awhile, that cloudy care  
Of earth, and earthly things would steal away,  
As fearing much to interrupt the day,  
Which I JEHOVAH gave thee; and thine eye  
Would still be reading true Divinity  
To thy aspiring soul, until it came  
To be indeed Professor of my Name  
In those celestial Schools, there to possess  
My 
m joh. 14.2.  Mansions of eternal happiness.  
Thus, wretched soul, hadst thou but used aright  
Those windows which I gave to be a light  
Unto thy Intellect, thou hadst not been  
So fearfully inclouded thus in sin:  
But thou, alas, as careless of my will,  
As 
n Luk 12.15. The eyes how corrupted.  he that served his Master best in ill,  
Mad'st havoc of my favours, took'st those eyes,  
And spent'st them both away on vanities,  
To cherish up thy flesh, and to maintain  
Those bastard issues of thy wanton brain:  
Nor didst thou care for eyes, unless to see  
Which were the pleasingst paths of vanity  
Wherein to walk, that when thou'dst had thy fill  
Of this, and that, and of the other ill,  
To look about for new: and thus thine eye  
Did always glut thee with variety  
Of newfound evil objects, till at last  
Thy sight was gone, for thou hadst made such waste  
Of it in ill, that now it could not see  
To do thee good in deeps of misery.  
And as thine eye, so hast thou spent away  
Thy other senses, all are gone astray  
From doing what I would, and what I'd not,  

All the senses of man corrupted.  I'm sure thy Lethargy hath not forgot  
To do with special care; as if thine ill  
Had been of purpose to oppose my will,  
Which gave thee leave to will; yet this, not all,  
Thy malice is not done, thou hast a gall  
To vomit out within: the total man  
Within and out doth do the best it can,  

The corruption of the inward faculties.  To war against my will: within I see,  
That all thy faculties corrupted be:  
Thine understanding, guided by thine eye,  
Doth judge of nothing good but vanity,  
According to the sense; thus underneath  
A seeming-sweet, thou eatest the gall of death.  
I see thy thoughts 
o Gen. 6.5.  all evil from thy youth,  
Conceiving nought, but (Issues of thy Ruth)  
Those Twins of sin and death: and when within  
Thou hast conceived that ugly Monster, sin,  
I see without, thy members all attend,  
As ready Midwives, striving who shall send  
It forth into the world, or who shall be  
The second parents of thy bastardy.  
I seek thy heart; but find congealed blood,  
Or in its room ought else that is not good;  
A piece of deadened flesh, a senseless stone;  
Or all I find is this, that thou hast none.  
I look within, alas, but this I find,  
There is no goodness durst approach thy mind:  

The whole man corrupted.  All is so full of ill, without I see  
There's true allegiance to impiety.  
From 
p Esay 1.6.  top to toe, from sole of foot to head,  
I look, alas, but all thy all is dead.  
Thus wretched man, thou'st lauished all away  
In vanity, ne'er thinking of that day,  
Wherein thy Master, I, should come and see,  
How well those Talents which I gave to thee,  
Had been bestowed. But now, behold, I come  
In justice to exact, what thou hast done  
With these my goods: Where are thy Ears, and Eyes,  
With all those other parts and faculties  
That lie without? the Senses, and the rest?  
And where are those within (which were the best)  
Thy hallowed heart and memory? And where  
Are now the virtues of that living air,  
Which first I did inspire thee with, whereby  
Thou hadst 
q Gen. 1.26.  resemblance of the Deity  
In holiness? Alas, poor soul, I see  
Where all these are, and need not ask of thee:  
I know thy ways full well, my watchful eye  
Doth still pursue thy steps, and doth descry  
Thy secretest paths; 
r Psal. 139.11, 12.  the veils of darkest night  
Can never hide thy actions from my sight:  
For day and night are both alike to me,  
Although perhaps I seemed to wink at thee,  
As though I saw thee not; but I indeed  
took notice of thy diligence and speed,  
In following after vanity; and saw  
The little care thou hadst to keep my law:  
That never touched thy heart of all the rest:  
For thou hadst sold away thy Interest  
Of willing what was good; that now thy will  
Might be a freeman in the ways of ill.  
Thus, Miser, art thou fallen off from me,  
By eating fruit of that forbidden tree,  
Which Satan did entice thee to; and now  
Thou'st left me once, I see, thou carest not how  
Thy days are spent, but with thy father's curse,  
thou'rt adding still to former evils worse;  
As though indeed true happiness had been  
Within these vales of misery of sin.  
I'm quite forgot of thee, thy thankless sense  
Is grown so stupid, that it feels not whence  
It had itself. Thy graceless memory  
Hath stuffed thy 
s Luke 2.7.  Inn so full of vanity;  
I cannot have a Stable-room, wherein  
My Residence might work away thy sin:  
But Satan's now thy chiefest guest, I see,  
And he alone is all in all with thee.  
Goodness is banished; thou hast bid farewell  
To me and it: O couldst thou see the hell  
Wherein thou art, then am I sure, thine eye  
Would fall a weeping strait; thy misery  
Would make thee turn another leaf, and look  
Within the sacred Records of my Book,  
Where thou wouldst quickly learn to see thy loss,  
And then in haste return by weeping-crosse,  
To me, thy God and Maker: and unless  
I pity thee, thou diest in distress:  
For lo, the reckoning day is come, and now  
Yield there thy Talents up, and tell me how  
I have been glorified by them and thee,  
As was thy duty. But, alas, I see  
Thou now art speechless; all is spent away  
To pleasure Satan, and to disobey  
My high behests. Go, faithless Steward, hence,  
Let him that was thy Master, recompense  
Thy wicked labours: 
t Matth▪ ●5. 30, 41.  Get thee from my sight,  
Into that prison of eternal night,  
where's nothing else but howl, fears, and cries▪  
The Guarduants of expresselesse miseries,  
The bitter fruits of sin, the recompense  
Of those that weigh their pleasures by the sense:  
And here's the freedom which thou needs wouldst have,  
To be in hell an everlasting slave  
And where are now thy feigned friends? Oh, see  
If ever they will any thing for thee,  
To do thee good; now let them show their skill:  
Sure, all their good is nothing else but ill:  
For all they will, is ill; and all they can,  
Is this, to work the overthrow of man:  
And herein they will do their best for thee;  
But goodness hath its being all from me,  
These are their comforts, these their best reliefs,  
They'll daily give additions to thy griefs▪  
First, Satan he'll accuse thee; Vanity  
Will show itself as hateful to thine eye,  
As erst 'twas pleasing; and thy flesh will be  
As burdens laid on man in misery.  
All will prove broken reed's to thee, or worse;  
They'll all subscribe to ratify thy curse.  
Thus, Miser, hast thou brought thyself to Hell,  
Where justice dooms thee lastingly to dwell  
In horrid sadness, and despairingly  
To live a dying life, yet never dye.  
Here, thou deplored, whither wilt thou stray  
For comfort now? There's nothing good will stay  
To bear thee company: no hills will be  
So kind in these extremes to fall on thee:  
But dismal horrors, discontentedness▪  
Despairing-thoughts, and gloomy-heavinesse:  
These will attend thee faithfully, and these  
Will do their utmost all to do thee ease.  
But all their utmost is, as if a man  
Quite froze with cold, looking so pale and wan,  
As scarce thou couldst discern he was alive,  
Should have a cup of water to revive  
His so benumbed soul; and this would be  
To kill a man away from misery:  
Or were it so with thee, 'twere somewhat well,  
Could they but kill thy soul, and so thy hell  
Should be extinguished presently: for then  
There would be hope of freedom yet again  
From those thy tortures. But, alas, I see  
These are impossibles, and cannot be;  
They cannot kill that transcendental breath,  
Unless it be by an immortal death,  
Which never dies: so though they use their skill,  
And always kill thee, yet they'll never kill.  
And whither now; O, whither wilt thou fly  
For solace in these deeps of misery?  
All worldly helps are gone; thy feigned friends  
Prove now as 'twere so many hellish fiends,  
To vex thy soul. Thus mayst thou seek (in vain)  
For remedies, but to increase thy pain.  
And marvel not, distressed man, to see  
That thou hast won a hell of misery:  
What couldst thou else expect, when thou wouldst stray  
From me, who am the true and living Way  
To sauing●health; and mad'st so light to change  
My hallowed Paths, to have the freer range  
In Satan's mazie ways? For all is Hell,  
Wheree'r thou go'st away from me to dwell.  
With me alone is life; and in mine 
Or presence. Psal. 16.12.  Eye,  
There stands the fullness of felicity  
With endless pleasures: but from out my sight,  
There are those 
Mat. 25.30.  horrors of eternal night,  
Whereto thou'st brought thyself; and whence I see  
Thou canst not get away, unless by me.  
O thou forsaken! whither dost thou run  
To seek the shadows thus, and leave the Sun?  
Come, look on me thy 
〈◊〉. ●. 4, 5.  Light: O come, arise,  
And see. Alas! but thou hast lost thine eyes,  
And art not able see, or rise, or go;  
Unless I say the word, It shall be so.  

God's first free restauration of man.  Then be it so, O miserable man;  
Arise, and I'll be thy Physician:  
Here do I give thee life again; and here  
I render thee those faculties, while-ere  
Which thou hadst lost; and here I let thee see,  
How merciful I was to pity thee.  
But, Miser, come, and let thy weeping eye  
Reflect awhile upon that misery,  
Whereto thou hadst enthralled thyself; and then  
Shake off thy dreary tears, and come again  
To take thy solace in this sweet estate,  
Which now I've placed thee in, to contemplate  
On all my former favours, and to see  
Those wondrous things that I have done for thee.  
Lo, here I give thee leave to speak, and now  
Think well upon thy quondam ways, and how  
Thou'st played the Prodigal, and spent away  
Those Talents which I gave thee to defray  
Thy duties here on earth, and to increase  
Thy better treasures in this time of peace:  
That when I came to thee, thou mightst restore  
My Graces up with many thousands more;  
To show the zealous care thou hadst to pay  
So good a Creditor. Now come and say,  
If thou canst plead excuse, here speak it free:  

z job 38.3.  I have demanded, come and answer me.  
But here, behold, when I had heard the sound  
Of this reviving Trumpet to rebound  
Within the hollow caverne of mine ears,  
As one distracted with unwonted fears,  
I suddenly 'gan wake, and from my sleep,  
I know not how, I was enforced to weep.  

a A fit Simile from a dream which I had in the Town of Totnes in D●●on, 1623.  As once I well remember on a time,  
When erst I was within that happy Clime,  
Whereon the beauteous breasts of Albion stand;  
And therein, where great Brutus first did land  
On this our Isle; I mean, fair Totnes shore,  
(Where Riches 
b Usury much used in Totnes.  Loadstone draws the golden store  
By Tennes, and Hundreds; would my Pen could say,  
She is as fair in Virtue, as it may,  
She is in Wealth; then all would be at peace,  
When use of virtue got so great increase:)  
The Spring before I sucked the sacred air  
Where now I live, within Oxonia fair:  
I say, I well remember on a night,  
Or rather in the peep of morning-light,  
When sweet Aurora with her smiling eye,  
Called up the birds with wont melody  
To welcome her, and when the morning-bell  
With doleful tollings newly 'gan to tell  
That it was four; it was my happy chance  
To dream myself into this following Trance.  

c My dream begins.  Me thought I saw (and 'twas a fearful sight)  
Our welcome day, that usually brought light  
To glad our drowsy hearts, I know not how,  
'Gan look on us with an unwonted brow:  
Heavens vaults, me thought, were hung so sadly o'er  
With 
d joel 2.20  gloomy clouds, as never: yet before  
I'd seen the like; and glorious 〈◊〉 beams  
Were hid from us, with all those 〈…〉  
Which erst we borrowed thence▪ for lo, the 
e Mat. 24.29.  〈◊〉  
Was darkened quite, and every man beg●n  
To tremble in his heart, and to expect  
From these sad premises, some sad effect.  
Amongst the rest, a secret terror crept  
Into my drowsy soul, and as I slept,  
I know not how but ere this stranger, fear,  
Had throughly waked my heart, I 'gan to hear  
A friend of mine proclaim with hideous cries,  

f The voice I heard in my thoughts.  Come quickly, see the Angels in the skies,  
The judgement day is come. At which, alas,  
My sleepy soul awoke: but where I was,  
I could not tell; for in a doubtful maze  
'twixt fear and joy, I was enforced to gaze  
At what I newly saw; and at the sight,  
I was so highly ravished with delight,  
That I could scarcely tell (believe't 'twas so)  

g 2. Cor. 12.2  Whether my soul were in the flesh, or no.  
And here, me thought, I heard the Angels say  
With fearful Trumpets, Rise and come away  
To judgement all: and soon as e'er the sound  
Was gone abroad, me thought, this goodly Round  

h Revel 20.12, 13.  Delivered up the Dead; and every one  
Were brought immediately before the Throne  
Of Heavens great Lawgiver. But when mine eye  
Had seen (alas) so great a Majesty  
Should be the judge: said I, 
i Esay 6.5.  I'm quite undone;  
For lo, mine eyes have seen this mighty Son  
Of Holiness; and now where shall I go,  
That am so full of wickedness and woe?  
And here (alas) amidst my hopes and fears,  
My dazzled eyes became a flood of tears  
To weep at what I saw: for when that I  
Had but a glimmering of his purity,  
I strait 'gan hate myself; for there, me thought,  
That in myself, myself was worse than nought.  
But here behold, in midst of these extremes,  
I felt such sweet inflowing from the beams  
Of that e'rliuing Sun, that while mine eye  
Did mostly weep at mine own misery,  
It gave me greatest happiness: for then,  
Me thought, I had beyond the state of men,  
A new immortal being, which I had  
From Him alone, who made my soul so glad.  
Thus while I loosed myself, it seemed to me,  
I was 
k An allusion to Christ's Transfiguration.  transfigured to felicity:  
Where I (as 
l Luk. 9.32, 33.  Peter) in amazedness,  
Did wish myself no greater happiness,  
Then there to build my biding place, and weep  
Mine eyes away in that so sweet a sleep.  
Thus passionary eye, I've shown to thee,  
That happy vision which I once did see;  
With every part and circumstance; unless  
I fail in telling of that happiness  
Which then I had: and here indeed, mine eye,  
I must confess, can never reach so high,  
Vvhiles in the flesh, to apprehend aright,  
Th' expressless pleasures of so sweet a sight.  
'Twas but a dream indeed; yet such, 
The use to be made of this dream.  as I  
Could always wish presented to the eye  
Of us, forgetful humans, to awake  
Our drowsy souls, that we might us betake  
To higher Theories; and when we see  
That miserable state wherein we be,  
To fix our eyes on Him, whose purer light  
Would so possess us throughly with delight,  
That in a sacred pride, we'd scorn to throw  
Away our eyes on any thing below,  
To set our hearts thereon; but highly look  
On Him, that keeps the everlasting 
m Reuel. 3.6. & 20.12.  Book,  

n Phil. 4.3.  Where blessed Souls are writ; that ere we die,  
We might as 'twere shake off mortality,  
And cloth us with new essences: and this  
Would be a new conveyance to our bliss,  
To give our souls the Heaven which we crave,  
Whilst yet imprisoned in the body's grave.  
But to return unto my former dump  
Wherein I was; when I had heard that Trump  
With thundering sound say, Miser, come and see,  
How well thy humane tongue can answer me  
At my demands. As in my fearful dream,  
Mine eyes braced forth into a weeping stream  
Of penitential tears, I could not speak  
With aught, but sighs; whose uttrance seemed to break  
My very heart with horror; for mine eye  
No sooner saw, but lo, my misery  
Confronts me strait. I saw how I had spent  
My Talents all away (which he had lent  
To me) in vanity. I saw, alas,  
How slow to good; how forward still I was  
In following what was ill: and here I saw  
How I had made digressions from his Law  
In every point. In brief, I saw that I  
Was now a sink of all iniquity:  
I'd quite forgot his favours, and was gone  
Away from Him, that everliving Sun,  
To walk in darkness; and to go astray  
Where e'er the flesh or Satan led the way:  
For I was wholly thralled to them; and now  
I'd seen myself, alas, I knew not how,  
To come into his presence, or to speak;  
And yet I must, or else my heart will break.  
I needs must come; alas, I cannot fly,  
Go where I will, 
o Psal. 139.1, 2, etc.  from his allseeing eye:  
Or if I could, yet wheresoe'er I go,  
There every thing proclaims itself a foe  
To my rebellious soul: and lo, within  
I'm tortured so with horror of my sin,  
That all the Balms of Gilead cannot ease  
The fearful gripings of my sad disease.  
Where's now the world? Where are those trivial toys,  
Called Wealth and Honours? Or those seeming joys  
The flattering flesh pretends? alas, I see  
They all prevail no more to comfort me,  
Then heavy blows to ease the aching head,  
Or Papists Aue-maries' for the dead.  
My gifts are natured otherwise, 
p Gen. 37.30.  and I,  
(Alas) where shall I go? fain would I cry  
For help, but all my strayings are in vain;  
The more I wrest, the more I feel my pain.  
And here should some great Mammon-Monarch come  
With golden Mountains, or with all the sum  
Of earth's best seeming-happinesse, (whereby  
Worlds darlings use to less their misery,  
Or drive it quite away:) yet all to me  
Were but as light to him that cannot see.  
Alas! what were't unto a man that lies  
On his extremest bed with turn'd-vp eyes,  
Looking aloof after that living breath,  
Whose sad depart is Herald of his death?  
What were't, I say, to throw whole Seas of gold  
Into his throat? this comfort were as cold  
As what's most comfortless: Even so I see  
(O would men think on't) it goes now with me,  
These by-receits are but as feasting meat  
To him that hath no stomach left to eat,  
They make me loathe them quite. For soon as I  
'Gan but to gaze on heavens great Majesty;  
They ' pear as drugs, not worth the sight, so foul,  
As farthest off from cleansing of a soul,  
That's so corrupt as mine. And here I find,  
There's nothing left to ease my grieved mind,  
But solace from above, (the place from whence  
I first began, to have a quickening sense  
Of what I am:) for now I see full well,  
The nature of my soul doth far excel  
Aught here beneath; and seems to come more nigh  
To Heaven's high God; claiming affinity  
As 'twere, with him, from whom at first it had  
Its being perfect good: (but all its bad  
Was from its self, whose first original  
Had being from its Father Adam's fall:)  
And now I think on't, our Philosophy  
Seems here authentic by Divinity;  
That tells, when e'er our acts and passions be,  
There must the matter needs in both agree:  
And where the action is with victory,  
The agent hath the strongest faculty.  
I'm sure 'tis true in this, my purer soul  
(I mean in substance, though it be so soul  
By accident) may not be wrought upon  
By these base agents of corruption,  
Wealth, honours, or the like; (too vile a mud  
To work on humane souls to do them good.)  
Their matter differs all in all: for these  
Are momentary salves, and can but ease  
A momentary grief, that's somewhat nigh  
To them in matter, and in quality,  
As passions of the flesh, or discontent,  
(Arising from what we call accident;)  
The loss of friends, goods, or the like; (which come  
Indeed from God, as sent to call us home  
To him, and teach us thence that all, beside  
Himself, are vanity, and cannot bide  
Long time with us.) Yet here they also fail  
Those that lie sole on them; for they are frail  
Themselves, and cannot be a remedy  
To any one, but him that doth apply  
Them rightly to his griefs, as mediums sent  
From God; or else they are a punishment,  
If made as gods, as mostly now they be  
By such, as place their sole felicity  
In them: for so they do not heal, but kill,  
Although they give us not a sense of ill.  
Alas, they sooth our senses fast asleep;  
And then as enemies, they slyly creep  
Upon the soul, which if it stoop so low,  
As homage them, they quickly overthrow,  
And make it wholly slave to them: and this  
Is quite indeed to reave it of the bliss  
Which erst it had in God; and that's as bad,  
As take away the essence that it had:  
Which gone, its being else is nought but ill  
And misery. And is not this to kill?  
Alas, it is. Nay, shall I speak more free?  
To be so ill, is worse than not to be.  
Thus wheresoe'er I go, or turn mine eye,  
Within these neither vales of vanity,  
I feel no more of comfort, or of hope,  
Than Protestants in Pardons from the Pope:  
They're mere delusions all, or worse; they'd keep  
My fainting soul in a persuasive sleep,  
That I am well; and so I should not fly  
Unto the Mercies of eternity;  
The sovereign salve of souls, from whence alone  
I must have solace, or I must have none.  
But here behold, when I had throughly seen,  
The miserable state my soul was in  
By nature; and had read with wearied eyes,  
The tedious book of all the vanities  
Which here I saw on earth; (for all that I  
Could see (alas) was nought but 
q Eccles. 1.2.  vanity:)  
And when I'd seen that I was quite bereft  
Of all my good, and there was nothing left  
In me but misery: for lo, I saw  
My horrid doom was passed; and by the 
r Gen. 2.17. Ro. 7.1, ●.  Law  
I needs must die the death; and this, within  
I saw engraven in my soul by 
s Ro. 6.23.  sin.  
And when I'd also cast mine eyes about,  
To see those woeful helps that lay without,  
Satan and faithless vanity; and these,  
As 
t job 2.9.  jobs unhappy wife, would give me ease  
By killing me: for all their remedy  
Was this, To curse my God, despair and die.  
I say, when I had seen what here I saw,  
I 'gan repent, my frozen heart 'gan thaw  
Into a flood of brinish tears, that I  
Had doted erst so much on vanity:  
For here, alas, my terrors still increase;  
My 
u Psal. 77.1, 2.  sore runs more and more, and will not cease  
Or day, or night. My soul is troubled so,  
'Twill not be comforted: and I in woe  
Am hurried in and out, so sore oppressed  
With kill griefs, and fears, 
x Psal. 38.3.  I cannot rest.  
I look within, and dye: without, I see  
There's nothing left, alas, to comfort me,  
But sad despair. Thus, wheresoe'er I go  
From God, I wander further still in wo.  
But courage here, my fainting soul, for now  
I bid defiance to the world; and vow  
To prosecute with an eternal 〈◊〉  
This miserable All, which I of late  
Esteemed so much: and, Satan, here farewell;  
And farewell all that lead the ways to Hell:  
For now, alas unto my grief I see,  
What 
y job 16.2.  miserable comforters ye be,  

z job 13.4.  Physicians of no value; as those friends  
Of patient job; or rather Hellish fiends  
To vex distressed 〈◊〉. Lo, here I fly  
From off●…ll, and in my misery  
I run unto my God, for only He,  
That out of nothing hast created me,  
Can now again give life unto my smile,  
And make it 
a Psal. 51.7.  white as snow, though e'er so soul▪  
Besides, he's 
b Ps. 116 5.  merciful, and well I know;  
He 
c Ps. 38.6.  looks upon the troubled soul below,  
Himself hath said it, and he cannot lie:  

d Esay 9● 15. & 66.2.  Although his habitation be on high,  
He's present with the humble, to enlyve  
Their deadened souls, and sweetly to revive  
The truly contrite heart; or were not be  
Thus gracious, as he cannot choose but be;  
Yet wheresoe'er I go beside, I'm sure  
Of nought but death; for they are all impure,  
Mere vanity, not good, but bad as sin,  
Save as they have dependency on him.  
What may I doubt of then? Suppose I go,  
And he denies his favour, as I know  
" He cannot do, (for where he deigns to give  
" His Grace to come, he gives the Grace to live:)  
Yet howsoe'er, I'm sure I cannot be  
Worse than I am; for here, alas, I see  
I am in Hell already; and unless  
He help me out there's nought but gloo●…,  
Sad thoughts, ne'er dying deaths, and all that dwell  
Within the limits of a perfect Hell,  
Will hence be my companions; and will be  
As hellish furies all to torture me.  
Then welcome here, ye sweet melodious sounds  
Of that reviving Trumpet, whose rebounds  
Within the turning Labrinth of mine ears,  
Did earstly so affright my soul with 〈◊〉,  
And wakeed me from that drowsy sleep, wherein  
I slumbered erst upon the bed of sin.  
And welcome here, thou sweet celestial Spirit;  
Thou very God; thou everliving Light,  
That thus hast quickened me; and with thy beams  
Hast dazzled both mine eyes to weeping streams  
Of penitential tears, and made me see  
My miserable state: and now to thee  
I humbly come again, to be my aid  
In these my high disputes; that when I've said,  
I may find mercy; and my tongue and pen  
May sing thy mercies to the sons of men:  
Thus humbly I appeal unto thy Throne  
Of everlasting Grace, from whence alone  
I seek for saving solace, and implore  
For mercy; 
e 2. Sam. 24.14.  for there is enough in store.  
And here, as 
f 〈◊〉. 4.16.  Esther, when she entered in  
To th'awful presence of the Persian King,  
On hazard of her life: even so do ●  
Appeal my God; and 
g Or if I perish, I perish: in Text. My appeal to God.  if I die, I die.  
O thou great Maker of this goodly frame,  
And all therein; at whose dread glorious Name  
The devils tremble; by whose Word alone  
This All had being▪ and without had none:  
And thou that hast thy seat of Majesty,  
Beyond the reach of any mortal eye,  
Within the 
h Deut. 10.14.  Heaven of Heavens, and as a King  
Of Kings dost sit in glory, where each thing  
Is subject to thy book, and all those trains  
Of Heaven's blessed Citizens with highest strains  
Do warble forth thy praises, and adore  
That 
i Esay ●. 3. Reuel. 4.8.  Three-Vnited-Holy, (which tofore  
Hath been, and is, and shall hereafter be  
From this time forward to eternity:)  
Lo, here a wretch that's summoned to appear  
Before thy seat of judgement, there to clear  
Himself within thy fight, if that a soul  
In rags of humane flesh may dare control,  
As 'twere, thy high discourse, and show that he  
Hath reason good whence to dispute with Thee.  
See, here he comes: but lo, my dazzled eye  
No sooner saw thy glimmering purity,  
As shining through a cloud; but there I 'gan  
To see the spots of miserable man:  
As men by opposites more plainly see  
To judge of them, so it went now with me:  
For when I'd seen thy wondrous Light, and then  
Reflecting on the miseries of men,  
I was confounded strait, as erst was he,  
Who when he'd seen thy glorious Majesty,  

k Esay 6.5.  Cried out, I am undone; for here, alas,  
I saw with grief the miserable mass  
Of man's corruptions, all his righteousness  
Was but as 
l Esay 64.6.  clouts of nought but filthiness:  
Or at the best, 
m Hos 64.  it vanisheth away,  
As morning-dew in brightest Sun-shine-day.  
And here, alas, I 'gan with 
n job 40 4.  job to cry,  
Lord, I am vile, and what shall I reply  
To thee, thou Holy One? I'll lay my hand  
Upon my mouth: for who is able stand  

o Psal. 143.2. Ro. 3.20.  Within thy sight as just, or able say,  
He merits aught? for we are all as clay  
In 
p Esai. 45.9. jer. 18 6. Ro. 9.10.  Potter's hands to thee, and shall I dare  
To talk it with my Maker, that canst tear  
Me into thousand pieces, and consume  
With thy just fury, him that durst presume  
To come into thy fight, and thinks that he  
Hath aught to justify himself with thee?  
For there is none, alas, though ere so right,  
That 
q job 9 2, 3.  can be justified within thy sight.  
We 
r Psal. 53.1, 3. Ro. 3.23.  all have sinned, and by the Law we all  
Must die the death, and be in lasting thrall  
To Hell and misery: and shouldst thou throw  
Us headlong to that Lake, from whence we know  
There's no redemption; yet we must confess,  
We have the reward of our wickedness,  
And thou art just: But yet, O Lord, with thee  
There's mercy to be found: or shouldst thou be  
Thus rigrous with us all, there would not one  
Be left to tell of thy salvation.  
Then here behold, a silly piece of clay,  
My miserable self, a castaway;  
A man: oh no; 
s Ps. 22.6.  a worm, or what is worse,  
Inheritor of nought but Adam's curse;  
Doomed by the Law to die, left in extremes  
By World and all things else (which float as streams  
Of water' way from me; or as my friends  
That love me for some secondary ends,  
But leave me in distress:) do humbly now  
Appeal thy Mercy-seat; and here I vow  
With 
t Gen. 32.26.  jacob, I'll not leave thee, till I win  
(Thy Bliss) a pardon from my death, and sin:  
To thee alone I come; for only He  
That made the Law, is able make me free.  
And thou which at beginning didst create  
This corruptible lump in pure estate  
From out of nothing, canst again refine  
Its drossy sins away, and make it shine  
As Heavens bright Eye, or be as purest Snow,  
Wherewith the tops of 
u Psal. 67.14.  Salmon overflow:  
And though, alas, sh' unclean a wretch as I,  
Dares not to scale Heavens spotless canopy,  
To plead with thee, lest when I should presume  
To touch thy 
x Exod. 16.12. Hebr. 12.20.  Mount, thou justly mightst consume  
Me quite to nought: yet let it not offend  
My Lord, if that a humane worm ascend  
So high, as in humility to creep  
From vale of woe, and from the fearful deep  
Wherein he is, unto thy mercy-gate,  
And there lay open his miserable state  
Before thy pitying eyes; and if my grief  
Afford me words, wherewith to force relief  
From Mercies hands, then poor Humanity  
Shall brag, that it hath won the victory  
Of God himself; and when our Humans see  
What weapons best prevail to conquer thee,  
They'll hence make use of them, and learn to fly  
Beyond the reach of base mortality,  
By wings of humbleness, and weighing well  
Th' unhappy state wherein they needs must dwell  
As of themselves, they'll all appeal to Thee,  
And all be thine, or else they will not be:  
Thus than I will proceed; my miseries  
Shall be my arguments; and my replies  
In answ'ring shall be always to confess,  
And grant those sequels of unrighteousness,  
Wherewith thou canst confute me; and withal  
I'll tell thee why I could not choose but fall.  
But pardon, Lord, what ere my passions speak,  
" For grief will have its vent, or heart must break:  
First then, O Lord, (I need it not to tell;  
Thou knowst my miserable case so well:)  
I am a grievous sinner, and thereby  
Have lost the gracious presence of thine Eye,  
Which erst gave life unto my soul, and now  
I've lost my life, alas, I know not how,  
I'm left as reasonless, for that great height  
Which first gave being to my Reason's sight,  
Is gone away from me, and all that I  
Have left, is sense to feel my misery:  
Far worse than brutest Animals, for they  
Take pleasure by the sense, and though they may  
Be sometimes passive, yet at most their pain  
Is but a death; yet such whereby they gain  
This happy privilege, which is to be  
Ne'er subject more to pain and misery:  
But I (alas) where-ever I run, or go,  
Am still the subject of expressless woe:  
No death can do me good, although my life  
More bitter be then can the cruelest knife  
That rigorous Fate affords; yet when I think  
Upon that cup of Trembling I must drink  
After death's greatest Tyranny, (unless  
Thy mercies pity mine unhappiness)  
It gives new life unto my griefs, and I  
Am always killed, alas, but cannot dye:  
And is't not reason then, a man of grief  
(So low as I) should go and seek relief,  
If any to be found? and where, alas,  
Should sinners go, but to the Throne of Grace,  
Where mercy sits as judge? And should not I  
In these extremes of sin and misery,  
Appeal to thee, my God, from whom alone  
I must have help, or else I must have none?  
I must, and will. But here thou wilt object, 
Objection from God against man.   
I went astray from thee, and did 
y Sins of omission and commission.  neglect  
Thy high and hallowed Laws, 
y Sins of omission and commission.  committing still  
The evils of mine own corrupted will:  
And therefore thou mayst justly cast away  
A worthless wretch, who needs would disobey  
So Fatherlike a Master, that did give  
Me all I had, or else I could not live.  
'Tis true, great Lord, I must confess, 
Man's best answer.  that I  
Have brought myself to all this misery,  
And thou mayst justly cast me off: but lo,  
Had I not brought myself to all this woe,  
By sinning thus, what needed I to fly  
To thee for mercy in my misery,  
When I had none? for were I free from sin,  
I then would justle 'gainst the rigorous din  
Of justice mouth, and plead with powers divine,  
That Paradise by grant of God was mine,  
With all its pertinents, to have and hold  
From this time forward, till I were so old,  
That times Arithmetic would fail to tell  
The number of my years: for all were well,  
Had I not sinned; ah cursed humane pride!  
If man had never sinned, he'd never died: 
Sin, the Parent of death.   
Death ne'er had been, if that it had not had  
Its being from a Parent, all as bad  
As it, I mean from 
z jam. 1.15.  sin, a thing so ill  
(If we may call't a thing that's able kill  
So many things) as shows, its monstrous birth  
Was not from him who made the Heavens and Earth,  
With all therein: for all that e'er he made  
Were perfect 
a Gen. 1.31.  good. But when that cursed shade  
Of humane pride came in to interpose  
'Twixt God and us, there suddenly arose  
This dangerous mist; for lo, th'ambitious brain  
Of man would needs aloft, and fond aim  
At nought but Deity; and he would be  
A 
b Gen. 3.5.  God himself, forsooth; and who but he?  
He'd turn Creator too, and undertake  
To make of nought, what God could never make:  
A high prerogative indeed! But see  
The cursed fall of pride; when man would be  
Subsistent by himself, scorning as 'twere,  
Dependency from God: for soon as e'er  

〈◊〉, the work of man.  He left his God, alas, I grieve to tell,  
He falls into the very deep of hell.  
This Man himself did do: but when his will  
Was done, he saw his work, and 
c Man works contrary to God: for his works went all good, as Gen. 1.31.  called it ill.  
'Twas more than God could do indeed; for he  
Could nothing else but good, as well we see  
In all his works. Thus most unhappy man  
Brought forth this Monster sin, which quickly ran  
And spread abroad so fast its viprous brood,  
That ill was greater grown by far then good:  
And man could say as well as God, that he  
Had got a world too, but of misery,  
Of woe, of sin, of death, of what you will,  
But good: for all that e'er he did, was ill.  
Thus when humanity would climb so high,  
As parallel with that great Deity  
That made it, lo, it tumbles down so low,  
As loses quite itself: for first, we know  
Man's essence was immortal; but as soon  
As man had sinned, he brought that cursed doom  
Of lasting death upon himself, and all  
That after said Amen unto his fall.  
And thus men loosed themselves, became not men,  
That's mortal; for they were immortal then.  
And 'mongst the rest, lo, here unhappy I  
A sinful man, a man of misery,  
Am fallen down; for I, as Adam did,  
Would needs be doing what thou didst forbid,  
Eat of th'unlawful tree, be striving too  
To do (a thing more than my God could do)  
Something that was not good: but here, alas,  
When I had seen the ill I brought to pass,  
I 'gan abhor myself, and 'gan to know  
My miserable case, that am so low,  
As now I am. And here I 'gan to see,  
What man without dependency from thee  
Is of himself. Alas, he is not aught,  
Or worse than so, if ill be worse than nought.  
But now, great Lord, I am a wretch so low,  
And though in fury thou mayst justly throw  
Me down to Hell, yet what were it for thee  
To wreak thy wrath on such a worm as me?  

* Simile.  What honour wert, if some courageous Knight  
Should exercise the rigour of his might  
Upon a dying Infant? will't not be  
A higher part of virtue held, if he  
Should pity the poor soul, take and revive  
Its dying heart, that when it was alive,  
And knew to speak, it might in thanks have said,  
I owe to thee my being, by whose aid  
I live as now I do? yea sure: and then,  
How canst thou be more glorious with us men,  
Then by relieving such poor souls as mine,  
Which cannot help themselves, and make us thine  
By an eternal league? that when we see  
How much we are beholding unto thee,  
We may rejoice in nothing else but this,  
That we are thine; and being thus in bliss,  
I mean within thy books again, we may  
Be always praising thee, as long as day  
Shall give us time to live, and when we go  
From out this wilderness of grief and woe,  
We may in thy eternal Canaan sing  
Eternal praises unto thee our King.  
But further yet, O Lord, if misers we  
May dare expostulate so much with thee;  
" Give losers leave to speak, for misery  
" Will force a man to speak, although he die  
For uttering of his mind; and can I choose,  
But utter out my griefs, although I lose  
What I have lost already, and unless  
Thou hear my plaints, and pity my distress,  
I'm sure I ne'er shall find again; and than  
Pardon if that I speak but as a man.  
A man! and what is man or? what am I  
That should not sin; or that I should not dye?  

Man without especial dependence on God, could not choose but sin: in which sense also▪ Adam may be said at first necessarily to have fallen.  Am I a God? Oh no; Thou knowst full well  
My brittle nature: who can better tell,  
Then him that made the same? And can it be  
That man should parallel so much with thee,  
As not to sin, I mean as man, that is  
Without thy Aidance, when thou shalt dismiss  
Him of thy goodness, and himself shall be  
But as, and of himself? This were to thee  
A high indignity: As who should say,  
There can by course of nature be a day  
Without a Sun; or more, that goodness can  
Be absolute, and yet contained in man?  
Which is indeed to say, that there can be  
Some good without dependency from thee:  
And then all that is good would not be so;  
Because thou mad'st it good, but where, or no  
Thou wouldst: which all our true Divinity  
Explodes as most abhorred Blasphemy.  
Then let my Lord in mercy please to bear  
With poor humanity, and deign to hear  
Thy servant yet to speak; for lo, my grief  
Will not be silent, till I find relief.  
What wouldst thou more of me? should I fulfil  
Thy Laws so 
e Rom. 7.12.  good, that cannot aught but ill?  

f The Regenerate man's voice, approved also by the experience of S. Paul.  Alas, unhappy wretch! fain would I do  
The good thou wouldst, but I come thereto  
With hot intents; I feel a cooling ill  
Arise within, which quite against my ●ill  
Draws me aside, and forces me commit  
A sin I hate, quite opposite to it.  
And thus, 
g Ro 7.15, 19  with Paul, I am enforced to cry,  

h Paul, voice being Regenerate.  The evil that I would not, that do I;  
The good I would, I do not. Thus I see,  
There's nothing 
i Rom. 7.18.  good, alas, that dwells in me;  
That is, within my flesh: for if that I  
Do any thing that's good, 'tis from on high:  
No longer I that do it, Lord, but thee,  
That dost vouchsafe thy Grace to work in me  
So great a good: for if thou but withhold  
Thy Grace awhile, I presently wax cold,  
Become a deadened Lump, corrupt and foul;  
Just as the body when without a soul 
Fit Similes.   
Unapt for any good: or else (more nigh)  
As matters are in our Philosophy,  
In ref'rence to their forms: the form we know, 
What man is in his relation to God.   
Doth actuate the lumpish matter so,  
That it is good for any thing whereto  
The same was made, but of itself can do  
Nothing at all, but is mere passive, dead:  
Or like the body, that's without a head  
To guide the same: or as an instrument,  
By which the form doth finish its intent;  
Moves not, but as 'tis moved: So I to thee,  
And more, have reference; I cannot be,  
If thou sustain me not; or if I am,  
'tis better that I were not: for I can  
Be nought but ill without thee: Thou alone  
Art Soul, and Form, and Head, and all in one,  
T'enlyuen, actuate, inform and guide  
This passive piece; which else could never bide  
So many storms: (one while an envious wind,  
Loss of my 
k My dear deceased Mother.  dearest friend, with grief of mind,  
By cross in other friends, with want, and w●  
In their extremes: And now hurled to and fro  
Betwixt my greatest enemies; that is,  
By Satan, and those damned powers of his:  
No humane troops, but such as always lurk  
Under the veils of world, and flesh to work  
Man's final overthrow. We●t not for thee,  
I had long since, alas, consumed be  
To my first nothing; or not half so well,  
Been prisoned in the laws of burning Hell,  
Ne'er to come thence again. But it is thou  
That didst preserve me, and this very now,  
I should fall down to that despairing Lake,  
Didst thou not raise me up, and always take  
Especial care of me. Then let it please  
Thy gracious eye of pity now to ease  
My gasping soul; think on the case wherein  
It lies thus bodied as it were with sin,  
Pressed with the weight to Hell, 
l Wisd. 9.15.  and cannot fly,  
By reason of its leprous clog so high,  
As souls unbodyed may, to talk with thee  
(In those pure places where the blessed bee)  
In thine own sweeter language, where is heard  
Nought but the voice of joy: but I am b●rd  
So low by sin, that from the dismal deep  
Of these my griefs, I am enforced to weep.  
This is my native language, which I have  
Within this soil of woe, and loathsome cave  
Wherein I live, and (while this soul of mine  
Lies prisoner in this sad unwholesome Clime  
Of corruptible flesh, and hapless I  
Go sojourn on these vales of vanity,)  
I cannot change my mourning tone, until  
Thy mercies put a period to mine ill.  
Come quickly then, O Lord, come and apply  
Thy saving salves unto my malady:  
Come quickly, 
m Psal. 143.7.  lest my spirit fail, and then  
I fall into the pit, from whence again,  
Alas, there's no 
n job 10.21.  return: and who is it,  
Shall tell thy praises in th'infernal pit,  
where's nothing else but horrors, howls and cries,  

o Mat. 2●. 30.  Teeth gnashing, and the 
p Esay 66.24. Mark. 9.44.  worm that never dies?  
But whither do I roave▪ where am I led  
In passion thus to company the dead,  
By these my fearful doubtings? Can it be,  
That he who hath his sole depends on thee,  
Should perish thus? Oh, no: he builds 
q Ps. 91.9, 10  too high,  
That builds on thee: 'tis my 
r Ps. 77.10.  infirmity;  
And more, alas, thou knowst I had not seen  
Those miserable deeps of grief wherein  
I now lie plunged, had it not pleased thee wake  
My deadened sleepy soul, and made it ache  
As now it doth: And then how can it stand  
With justice, that thy pitying mercies hand  
Should give a wound, or make a soul to smart,  
And then in cruelty again depart  
Without applying any thing to ease  
The tortured patient of his new disease;  
But there to leave him sighing to the air,  
And bleed afresh with tears unto despair?  
Oh no; I know thy dealings are not such:  
'tis sweet to smart, when mercy gives the touch:  
This have I proved already in extremes,  
When outward passions, or more inward threanes  
Did touch me to the quick: for never yet  
I swum in tears unto thy Mercy-seat,  
But I have turned back so fully fraught  
With inward solace, stead of sorrow's plight,  
That all my griefs were drowned quite, and I  
Have gladded thus to be in misery.  
If otherwise, alas, it than had been  
Far better never to have left my sin,  
Or known my miseries; if when I knew,  
I so were left desparingly to rue  
This my unhappy knowledge: but from hence  
I learn to judge of pleasure by the sense  
Of pain, and so I better know to prise  
Thy greater mercies by my miseries:  
As sickly patients by their greater griefs, 
A fit simile.   
Do better learn to prize of their reliefs:  
Or else if thou hadst healed me presently,  
And I ne'er felt the pangs of misery  
My soul was in, perchance I would not stick  
To say, thou heald'st me ere that I was sick;  
As thankless patients mostly say to these  
That heal their greatest griefs with greatest ease.  
Thou therefore, Lord, whose Wisdom all-divine  
Hath ordered all things in so sweet a line  
Of never-iarring harmony, that they  
At every beck are ready to obey  
Thy high behests, didst wisely preordain  
That man should have a feeling of the pain  
Himself was in by nature, ere that he  
Should have that happiness to come to thee  
For ever-healing Grace: and reason good:  
For if that man had never understood  
That he was sick, or if he had not seen  
Those deeps of misery that he was in,  
As of himself, how could he humbly come  
With tears of penitence before thy Throne  
Of everlasting Grace, when senseless he  
Ne'er knew so much that he had need of thee;  
But dreams that all is well with him, and why,  
Alas, he thinks there is no Deity  
Besides himself; And then how can he see  
So much as a beholdingness to thee  
For any good? Where's true humility  
When Humans think they have ability  
Themselves to get a perfect happiness!  
As 
s As in morality.  Heathens did: (And Papists do no less)  
And lo, how all was then overwhelmed with night,  
When thou awhile didst but conceal thy Light  
From Ethnic eyes? Where was creation then?  
Alas, this was a Paradox to them  
Where 'twas impossible that aught could be  
Made out of nought: and world's eternity  
Which then was held, could tell they did not know  
How e'er 'twas possible that they should owe  
So much to thee, that didst create them all,  
To show thy glory forth And adam's fall  
Was never heard of, whence they could not see  
That woeful night, that Hell of misery,  
Which they were in; and so in humbleness,  
When they had seen the deeps of their distress,  
As erst 
t 2. Chro. 33.22.  Manasses, get themselves to thee  
For mercy; But behold, this might not be:  
Thou didst derermine otherwise, to show  
That Light to us which they did never know,  
To wit, the wondrous things which thou hast done  
For us to whom thou givest grace to come  
To thee for grace; Lord, add this one increase  
To these thy favours, that we never cease  
To sing on earth the mirrors of thy praise,  
Till Heavens at last eternalise our Lays.  
And now, since thou hast deigned amongst the rest,  
T'ensure me thus of that great Interest  
I have in thee, my God, and made me see  
My many wants, whereby I come to thee  
With thirsty soul, as 
u Psal. 42.1, 2▪  David's wearied heart  
Did to the water-brooks: for lo, my smart  
Enforces me cry out to thee for ease  
In grief's extremity; and till it please  
Thy mercy send thy all Redeeming grace  
To free me 〈◊〉 this sad-unhappy case  
Wherein I a●●nd take away from me  
This heavy burden of my misery,  
The sin that presseth down, the loathsome 
x Hebr. 12. ●.  weight  
That kills my soul, that clouds me from the light  
Of thy all-ioying eyes; Alas, I see  
There's nothing here that's able comfort me:  
My soul goes 
y Psal. 38.6.  mourning all the day, as one  
Imprisoned far from his desired home,  
where's nought can truly comfort him, till he  
Hath won the Haven where he longs to be:  
Or rather as that 
z Luk. 15.13, 14, etc. The parable of the Prodigal child fitly applied.  needy Prodigal,  
Who when he'd had his will, and lavished all  
His portion quite away, and poverty  
Had pinched him so, he was enforced to cry  
For help in his exteremes; but there was none  
That once would give attendance to his moan,  
Of all his feigned friends, (although that they  
Had flattered all that e'er he had away,  
And seemed to promise much as long as he  
Had any thing to give; but now they see  
That he was left in deeps of misery,  
They run away at once and let him lie:)  
He then 'gan know himself, and having seen  
The fearful deeps of want, and woe wherein  
He now was plunged, he 'gan with weeping eyes  
To think on these his wilful miseries,  
And having deeply counted with himself,  
What once he was, and now (ungracious Elf)  
Whereto he'd brought his state, he would not rest,  
But needs return to him that loved him best,  
His first offended Father, where he hies  
All tottered o'er with rags of miseries,  
The fruits that he had got; and there he shows  
His great extremes in swelling tides of woes,  
Uncessant tears, and penitential groans,  
(For none besides would pity these his moans:)  
Unto his Father's eyes; But soon as he  
(I need not speak in parables to thee,  
Thou know'st it well enough:) had told his sin,  
His pitying Father runs and takes hi●●n,  

a Luk. 15.20.  Embrac'th him in his arms with kisse●●eet,  
To show how glad the Father was to meet  
His convert son, he yearned more to give  
Him life, than he himself did yearn to live:  
For lo, before the Son could well entreat,  
The Father grants; his love was grown so great.  
This is my case, O Lord, 'tis I that am  
That wretched Prodigal, who earstly ran  
Away from thee, my God, who wast to me  
By far a dearer Father, than was he  
Who was the Prodigals; and lo, 'tis I  
That brought myself to all this misery  
Wherein I am; but now I begin to see  
My poor estate: Behold, I come to thee  
With, 
b Luk. 15.18, 21.  Father, I have sinned; my deep distress  
Enforceth me unfeignedly confess  
My woeful wanderings, that have gone astray  
From all thy sacred paths, and spent away  
Thy talents all in hell, done nothing well  
As erst I did confess, and now I tell  
Again with grief of heart, with watery eyes,  
With inward sighs, with soule-relenting cries,  
With tears of penitence, and deepe-fetcht throes;  
The dull expressions of my deeper woes:  
(The Characters wherewith the soul doth write  
The recantations of her past delight.)  
Lo, here I feel the reward of my ill,  
The penury of Grace, which yearks me still  
Into the very soul: As erst did want  
The Prodigal, when all things were so scant;  
And here of force I cried for help, but none  
Of all my friends would hearken to my moan,  
As erst I said, for they did flee away  
As fast as cowards from a fearful fray.  
But when I saw that all were fled, and I  
Was left alone beset with misery,  
And there was none would help, I 'gan to rue  
With solitary sighs, and weeping Dew,  
My wilful foolishness; and now I see  
My running thus so far away from Thee,  
(So good a God) is cause of all my woe,  
Behold, I cannot rest, until I go  
To thee again; for it was only Thou  
That first gav'st being to my soul, and now  
There is no other Name I know full well,  
That can redeem me from the deep of Hell,  
But only thine. Thus in extremes I fly  
To thee for mercy in my misery,  
To thee alone: for lo, with grief I see,  
All other helps are burdens unto me;  
Alas, they kill my soul, and do but feed  
My greatest foe where all my horrors breed;  
This corruptible clog of flesh, that fain  
Would sink me sleeping to eternal pain,  
Whence nothing may redeem: Oh, than I pray,  
Come purify this filthy piece of clay,  
By those sweet streams of thy e'er living Grace,  
Which issue from that holy-holy place  
Where thou art resident, thy purest Spirit,  
(The 
c job. 14.26. & 15.26.  Comforter and pledge of true delight)  
And give my soul free liberty to see  
The very fullness of its misery;  
Alas! It doth not see enough, I feel,  
My heart continues yet as hard as steel,  
It will not yield me tears enough to spend  
In wished penitence, until I end  
My little day of life: and here again,  
I am enforced with doubled sighs to plain  
To thee for remedy: this forceth more  
Than all the miseries that went before.  
Alas! and what's the reason? Sure, I see  
And feel, 'tis nothing but the want of thee:  
He that wants thee, wants all that's good, and I  
By wanting thee, have more than misery.  
O then behold, if ever Prodigal  
Thus pinched with poverty, had need to call,  
Good Father, come and help; sure, I am he  
That thus in humbleness appeal to thee:  
Or look upon these characters of woe,  
The rags of misery wherein I go:  
Or were not that enough, yet look upon  
My greater want of thy salvation:  
See how I sigh to thee for grace, or more;  
I sigh, alas, because I am so poor  
In sighs, and tears, and weeping words▪ that I  
Cannot bewail enough my misery,  
By reason of my sins, which strive to keep  
My gasping soul in an unhappy sleep:  

b A fit simile.  Much like those lumpish clouds that I have seen  
In lowering days, to thrust themselves between  
The Sun and us, and so to keep away  
Those sweet inflowing of bright Phoebus' ray,  
(That quickeneth up our Spirits) by which wrong  
It makes the sluggard lie a bed too long;  
Enthralls us to a drowsiness, that we  
Are quite unapt for good, until we see  
Those sleepy clouds dispelled, and Phoebus' eye  
Doth cheer us up with new alacrity.  
Such are my sins, and till that 
c Mal. 4.2.  sacred Sun,  
Which is indeed the 
d joh. 1.4, 5.  light, shall shine upon  
This sluggish soul of mine, and drive away  
These cloudy adversaries of my day,  
I cannot cry with cheerfulness, or weep;  
The enemy enforceth so to sleep.  
O than my God, thou, thou that art the Sun,  
And all I want, come quickly shine upon  
My deadened sleepy soul, and let thy beams  
Of grace resolve my Icy heart to streams  
Of faithful feeling penitence, that I  
With perfect sense of this my misery,  
May swim in tears unto thy Mercy-Throne,  
There to enforce thee to compassion:  
And further, let my tears be all as tongues,  
To intimate the penitential songs  
My heart endites; or rather let my pen  
(As David's) be the Scribe to publish them.  
And last of all, O let my spirits loud groans  
(Expressless) utter forth the saddest Tones  
That ever yet true penitent did weep,  
To wake our drowsy carnalists from sleep;  
And by a secret virtue to enforce  
My hearers all to melt into remorse,  
When they have seen themselves by me; (for all  
As well as I have played the Prodigal,  
If they but duly think upon't:) and then  
They'll all vouchsafe to company my pen  
In weeping metres too, or if not so,  
For want of measures to express their woe,  
Which is so measureless, yet out of love,  
Thus far (
e I'm sure.  I know) they will my griefs approve,  
As to afford me tears in every line,  
To write their penitence as well as mine:  
Which done, I doubt not, but we all shall be  

f 2 Cor. ●. ●.  Compartners in the same felicity  
As well as griefs, ere my Urania end  
Her happy task: for lo, I apprehend  
Already from above, such sweet inspires  
Of quickening mercy kindling my desires,  
With glad assurances of Grace, that I  
Would not lay down, and change my misery  
For all the world's best happiness, that can  
Be coveted by any carnal man  
To glut his greedy senses with: for his  
Must have its end, but mine eternal is;  
I mean, my happiness, in that I see  
The sweet opposer of my misery  
Is now at hand. But here I must retire  
My wearied Muse awhile, till my desire  
Obtain its happy compliment, and I  
Behold my solace with a clearer eye.  
Yet ere I rest, dear Father, lo, I come  
To tell in brief, this is ●he total sum  
Of these my weak disputes, and this is all  
That I can answer thee as Prodigal.  
Here I have acted out my part; and now,  
Great Maker, lo, it doth remain that thou  
Enter the Theatre, lest hapless I,  
By leauinged thus, should leave a Tragedy  
Imperfect to beholders eyes, which might  
Strike them with sorrow more, then with delight.  
Come then and perfect it, that all may see,  
There's nothing hath perfection but from thee.  
Lo, I remain the Prodigal, be thou  
The loving Father: see with pity how  
I am beset with miseries, and see  
What great necessity I have of thee,  
That have not aught without thee: see again,  
How earnestly I 
i Psal. 42.1.  thirst for thee, and then  
Look back upon thy 
k Esay 55.1.  promises, whereby  
thou'rt bound to us that are in misery.  
Thus, Father, pity me thy son, and then  
With lasting favour take me home again  
Into thy arms of mercy, where when I  
Am knit again by that eternal tie  
Of thy redeeming love, my tongue and pen  
Shall be continual trumpeters to men  
To tell thy mercies, and what thou hast done  
For him, that was so prodigal a son:  
O quickly then, dear Father, quickly high  
To him that is so full of misery:  
Now is the time, behold, my tedious plaint  
Hath tired out my soul, and she begins faint  
In these her deep extremes: my tears and groans  
Enforce a silence to her weeping Tones:  
These are her latest words, Come, mercy, fly,  
And take me up, Come quickly, or I die.  
Thus overcome with grief, my doleful Muse  
Kept silence with my soul; for every sluice  
My weepers had, braced forth in tears to stop  
The passage of my plaints, and overtop  
My sighs from flying up aloft, till 〈◊〉  
Had grieved so much, that all within ●as dry:  
My brain had lost its moisture to indite  
Some dreary song my pen might weep to write,  
To give continuance to my griefs: and here  
Because I saw that Mercy was so near,  
I did resolve to rest myself, and stay  
Until my soul had seen a happier day  
Proclaimed from above; I mean, wherein  
She shall be ransomed from death and sin,  
And all her present miseries: till when,  
Come rest with me, my wearied Muse and Pen;  
For here I vow, you shall not speak again,  
Till Mercy raise you to a sweeter strain.  
The end of the first Book.   

AUGUSTINE'S URANIA, OR THE HEAVENLY MUSE: The second Book.  
Wherein is set forth the great mystery of Man's Redemption by Christ jesus, and (the freewill and merits of Papists being experimentally confuted) the true and only means whereby we are to obtain salvation is plainly declared: to the great comfort of all those that either are, or desire to be true Christians.  
By S.A. B. of Arts of Ex. College in Oxford.  2. COR. 1.3, 4. 
Blessed be God, the Father of our Lord jesus Christ, the Father of mercies, and the God of all comfort, who comforteth us in all our tribulation, that we may be able to comfort them which are in any trouble, by the comfort wherewith we ourselves are comforted of God.  PSAL. 66.16. 
Come, and hear, all ye that fear God, and I will declare what he hath done for my soul.  PSAL. 89.1. 
I will sing the mercies of the Lord for ever: with my mouth will I make known thy faithfulness to all generations.  
LONDON, Printed by F.K. for Robert Allot and Henry Seile. 1629.   

TO THAT HONOURABLE GENTLEMAN, Mr. JOHN robart's, Son to my Lord robart's, Baron of Truro in Cornwall, the accomplishment of all true happiness both in Grace and Glory, etc.  
Noble Sir!  
I Have here emboldened myself to entreat you also (since you came hither so seasonably) to be the second Godfather of these my lowly conceptions: and my hopes are, that you will be the easier won hereto, because you have so good a Compartner, as (my great Favourer) your divine Tutor. Neither is this all, but I had many other most urgent incitements, to forward these my lawful presuming: first, in that it was my happiness to be your Countryman; whence I thought it no mean disparagement, both to myself and Country, especially to your Honour; that our Cornwall's Muses should not find a Patron within their own limits. Secondly, your happy growth in all virtuous perfections within these late years, (as myself also amongst others have seriously observed, to the great comfort of my soul) with your extraordinary zeal, and primary devotions to all divine exercises, hath been enough to invite, if not enforce me, to the humble presentment of these my desires, and utmost services to forward you. If my Muse had here played the wanton, I should have thought her too toyish, and altogether unworthy your more serious, and judicious aspect: but she has been somewhat affected with those passions, that were sometimes yours; she hath been bathed in the tears of a dear mother's death; but especially, she hath desired to be in all things heavenly, and to please you even in divine contemplations; and therefore cannot despair of your good patronage. I will no longer stand in commenting, either on your virtues, or mine own endeavouring; only I shall entreat you to know, that there is none more sincerely desires your perfection in goodness then myself, though haply you may have many far better furtherers: and in confirmation of this, I have here humbly presented you this dear (though poor) conception of mine, who, like a weeping infant, new brought into the world, beseeches you with tears for its Patronage; which if you but please to bless it with, and so make it live famous in the world by being yours, you shall not fail of his continuing prayers and thankfulness; who desires to be ever  
Your true servant in the Lord jesus, Samuel Austin. From my Study in Exeter College in Oxford, this 11. of April, 1628.   

AN ADVERTISEMENT TO THE READERS ON my second Book.  
Good Readers!  
IF I here come far short of mine own aims, and your expectations, I shall entreat you to make this use of it; the apprehension of that great Mystery of salvation (which I here treat of) is a matter of far greater difficulty, then at first I took it for: yea sure it is an Art so hard, and of so heavenly a nature, that 
* Math. 16.17. john. 1.13.  flesh and blood can never attain the knowledge of it, but it must be revealed unto us from our Father which is in Heaven. Whence it came to pass, that whereas I thought presently to apprehend it upon the first onset, without any further trouble, I was cast down suddenly by mine own sins and infirmities, even to despair of myself, and there lay for a long time in a speakelesse misery, till God of his free goodness at length restored me, and brought me to the happy sight hereof by the sweee help and aydance of his Word and Spirit. So that the readiest way to obtain this happy assurance, is to abandon all Papistical presuming on selfe-abilities, and to annihilate ourselves as 'twere, by a faithful humility, that so we may 
* joh. 1.12.  become the sons of God, by that sole power of Christ jesus; and by a 
* Eph. 4.24.  new Creation be transformed into his blessed likeness, till in his good time, 
* Philip. 3.9.  being found in him, not having our own righteousness which is of the Law, but that which is through the faith of Christ, the righteousness which is of God by faith, we shall at length appear unspotted before the presence of our God in the highest heavens, and there enjoy that eternal weight of glory which he hath prepared for us. Now, if you make this good use of it, you shall do well. Fare ye well.  
S. A.   

AVSTIN'S URANIA: OR THE HEAVENLY MUSE. THE SECOND BOOK.  
The Contents.  
FRom out despair my VRAN ' beer  
Begins to put on better cheer,  
Because my God did now again  
Refresh my soul with his sweet strain  
Of promised Grace, which showed to me  
My debt was paid, and I made free,  
Free man of Grace. But lo, when I  
Thought strait t'have seen this mystery,  
My sins step in, and cloud my sight:  
From whence began so sore a fight  
Betwixt my flesh and spirit, that I  
Was forced even to despair, and die:  
Until my God of his free Grace  
Revives me with a sweeter face,  
And leads me on by his good Spirit  
Unto his Word, which gave me light,  
Whereby I clearly saw at length.  
(Only enabled with his strength)  
That happy Mystery which he 〈◊〉.  
Began whil'ere reveal to me;  
I mean, his love in Christ: and there  
In humbled faith, and holy fear  
My Muse began again to sing  
My Saviour's Life and Passioning,  
Which erst it did but touch: this done,  
At last she cheerfully begun  
To sing my thanks, and ends her Lays  
With periods of eternal praise.  
NOt long my soul in this unhappy case  
Had lain her down, gasping as 'twere for Grace.  
With lowly sighs; but here she seemed to yield  
Her weapons up, and to give death the field:  
For when she looked upon herself, and saw  
How deadly she was wounded by the Law:  
But there was no Physician might be found,  
That had a Balsam for so great a wound;  
She 'gan despair, and with extremest breath,  
To give a forced welcome unto death.  
Thus did she of herself; and could it be  
Man's nature might do otherwise, to see  
His doom already past? for well I knew  
There's no escape, the Law must have its due,  
The breach whereof is death; and now that I  
Have broke the same, alas, I needs must die.  
Must die? But what is this? Is't but to leave  
This vital breath as brutish beasts, and cleave  
Unto my former earth, there to remain  
Impassable of any feeling pain,  
And so ne'er to be thought on more, nor be  
The subject of a future misery?  
Oh no: but as if my unhappy sin  
Had never broke the Law, I'd always been  
Alive in endless happiness; even so  
Now I have sinned, I must in endless woe,  
Die a ne'r-dying death, I 〈◊〉 which is  
To be deprived of that etern bliss,  
Which else I should have had: or so much worse,  
To be so long the subject of that curse  
Of tortures inexpressible. And here  
The very thought did touch my soul so near,  
That more than thousand present deaths, my heart  
Did seem to taste of an eternal smart;  
The woeful pledge of what I was to drink,  
When I should come to that unhappy sink  
Of mine unhappiness; that Hell wherein  
I should drink up the furious drugs of sin.  
But here, behold, in this my worst extreme,  
(As erst I well remember in my Dream)  
When I was mostly glozing down upon  
Myself and miseries, and there was none  
That would, or could relieve, (I mean, within  
These neither vales of vanity, of Sin,  
Of Hell, of Death: where every thing that I  
Could well conceive, had possibility  
Of suffering for our faults, hath residence:  
For sufferance goes no further than the sense;  
Sufferance in pain I mean, (unless it be  
That pain of loss which our Divinity  
Alone makes mention of.) Now there was none  
That's subject to a painful passion,  
(But what is here contained:) when hap'lesse I  
As of myself would needs despair and die.  
Behold, I say, that great Omnipotence  
Which first gave being to my soul, and since  
With quickening trumpets made me to awake  
From out the deep of that Lethean Lake  
Wherein I lay for dead, I mean, when I  
Had thralled myself to all iniquity  
With great delight and willingness: and he  
The sacred power that gave me eyes to see  
My deeps of misery, and in extremes  
Did erst refresh me with such pleasing beams  
From off his gracious countenance, that I  
Did highly prise so great a misery:  
For here at length he comes (when there was none  
That would, or could relieve, but him alone:)  
And with the sweetest words that e'er were sung,  
(Not to be uttered by another tongue,  
But his that authorised them.) Thus he 'gan  
To comfort me: 
* God's reply to my former quests.  O thou forsaken Man,  
The work that I myself have made, full dear  
To me thy God, although thou wouldst not hear  
My sweet ●nuites, but with the Prodigal  
Wouldst needs be wand'ring, till thou'dst lavished all  
Thy Portion out, and bought experience  
Of what thou art by miserable sense  
Of thine unhappiness. Alas, I see  
far better than thyself canst tell to me,  
Thy many wants: I see thy great extremes;  
Thy tears of penitence; thy earnest threanes  
And longings after me: I see, I say;  
And now behold, I can no longer stay  
From pitying thee; my bowels yearn to show  
My mercies forth, whereby to make thee know  
My wondrous love to thee. Come then, Arise  
Distressed soul; shake off thy miseries,  
And all thy former heavy dumps: for lo,  
I here intent to terminate thy wo.  
Thy day of happiness is come, and I  
Will here reveal so sweet a remedy.  
For these thy grievances, that soon as ere  
Thou shalt but see a glimpse of it, thy fear  
Will vanish quite away; and thou wilt be  
So ravished strait with new felicity,  
That all thy senses will be dispossessed  
Of thy first miseries, and wholly blest  
With such expresselesse joy, that tongue, or pen,  
Though led by all the choicest Art of men,  
With all their shadows, cannot half express  
The substance of so great a happiness.  
Come then, and solace here a while, till I  
Have raised thee up unto a pitch so high,  
Where when thy speculations sweetly see  
The wondrous things that I have done for thee,  
Thou wilt so far forget thy present state,  
As scarcely think on't, save it be to hate  
Thyself the more, and those inferior toys,  
Which strove so much to interrupt thy joys;  
That in a sacred policy, thereby  
Thou may'st be knit in a far nearer tye  
To me thy God, there always to possess  
The highest tide of changeless happiness.  
And more, behold, when thy Vrania's eyes  
Shall feed awhile on those sweet Theories  
Of mine abundant goodness, and shall see  
How all thy happiness depends on me,  
She will not choose but consecrate her Lays,  
To sing abroad the mirrors of my praise.  
On, my beloved then; for now behold,  
My love is grown so great, I cannot hold  
It longer in, 'twill needs break forth and show  
Its sweet effects; and make thy soul to know  
How dear that sinner is to me, that will  
Repent himself, and leave his former ill:  
Surely 
b Ezek. 18.28.  he shall not dye, but live; for I  
Have spoken it, that know not how to lie.  
'tis true indeed, thou saidst, thyself hast played  
The Prodigal, and now thou seekest for aid  
Of me: Behold, it is again as true,  
I am thy Father longing to renew  
My former love with thee. Lo, how I run  
On Mercies feet to welcome thee my son.  
Come in distressed, Come: My watchful Eye  
Hath seen at full thy deeps of misery,  
And still with care attended thee, when thou  
Didst little think on't, till this very now.  
'Twas I indeed, as erst thou didst confess,  
That made thee see this thine unhappiness:  
And as a tender Mother to her son, 
An apt simile.   
That seems in kindness to persuade it come,  
And ask of her some thing it wants, which she  
Much longs to give: So did I deal with thee,  
By mercies often sweet invites, to move  
Thee humbly come and crave, what out of love  
I wholly meant to give. 'Twas not in vain  
I made thee feel the horrors of thy pain;  
But as a happy medium to enforce  
Thy deadened soul the sooner to remorse  
Of thine own deeper miseries, and then  
To seek about for remedy: but when  
Thy woeful soul had seen, that all but I,  
Were fled from thee in this extremity,  
Then did I sweetly draw thee home, to see  
The riches of the love I bore to thee:  
I took thee up again, and did restore  
Thy lifeless soul, when thou hadst quite gi'n o'er,  
And yielded up to Satan, sin, and all  
That were conspirators to make thee thrall  
Unto eternal death. Alas, mine Eye  
Did set full well thy poor humanity,  
How weak it was to any good; how prone  
To any thing was ill, as though alone  
It had been wholly bend to choose the bad,  
But leave the goodness which at first it had.  
Yea, so it was indeed; and sure it stood  
With reason, when thou left'st the chiefest Good,  

How sin and death were begotten by man.  (My Self I mean, thy God; from whom alone  
All have their goodness, but without have none:)  
To turn aside from me, and fond take  
Some thing for good, which thou thyself didst make  
Without my help; scorning as 'twere, to be  
Beholding for thy goodness all to me:  
For lo, when thou hadst turned away thy sight  
From me, who was alone thy 
c joh. 1.4.  Life and Light,  
And all the good thou hadst; thy blinded eyes  
Could not but fall on contrarieties,  
Take darkness stead of light, and so approve  
The ill for good: thus thy seduced love,  
When led to like by thy adulterous will,  
Brought forth thy death, the cursed child of ill.  
Unhappy match of thine! Yet lo, from hence  
I gathered good, by giving thee a sense  
Of thine own wants, and making thee to see  
How weak thou wast, and how thou could●st not be  
Without my Grace; and this did make thee come  
In humbleness, as erst the straying Son  
To me alone in deeps of misery,  
With, 
d Luk. 15.18.  Father, I have sinned, where soon as I  
Had seen thy tears and thy humility,  
Behold, how glad I was to pity thee:  
I 
e Luk. 15.20.  ran to meet as 'twere, and re-embrace  
Thy soul with arms of everlasting Grace.  
All this I did for thee; but these are small:  
For lo, the sum, and very chief of all  
Is yet behind. Thus far I've only been  
All mercy, winking as it were at sin:  
But lo, as I am merciful, so I  
Am all as just, and thou must satisfy  
For sin by death: for this is also true,  
My justice and the Law will have its due.  
But here, alas, I see, this very thought  
Of death doth strike thee down again to nought;  
Kills thee a thousand times with grief, to see  
How far impossible it is for thee  
To suffer that, one thought whereof alone  
Is able break the hardnedst heart of stone,  
That would but think on it: for thus to die,  
Is to despair of all felicity,  
And be in endless tortures, such as none  
Can tell; but those that suffer them alone.  
Alas, unhappy wretch! this is thy lot,  
Thy just desert, the fruit which thou hast got  
By leaving me. But here again arise,  
Distressed soul, and wipe thy teary eyes,  
To apprehend more sweetly from above  
The mystery of everlasting love,  
The 
f Malac. 2.4.  Sun of comfort to thy soul, that will  
Dispel away these gloomy clouds of ill,  
And all thy former miseries; and hence  
Will ravish thee with more abundant sense  
Of thine expressless happiness: for by  
The utmost 
g Psalm. 42.7  deep of this thy misery,  
Thou shalt perceive by happy opposite,  
Another deep; how good, how infinite  
My mercies are, that made my 
h The mystery of man's Redemption by Christ jesus.  justice-eie  
To pity thee, because thou shouldst not die:  
I made it satisfy itself, come down  

i Esay. 53.8. Phil. 2.6, 7, 8.  From my eternal Throne, throw off its Crown  
Of glory which it had, and humbly take  
Thy rags on it; and further for thy sake,  
To be imprisoned in thy house of clay,  
Until at length it suffered 
l Gal. 3.13. 1. Pet. 2.24.  death, to pay  
That heavy debt of thine. Thus thou art free  
From sin, from death, from hell, from misery,  
And all thy former ills; and now art made  

m Rom. 6.18, 22. Ephes 2 4, 5, 6, 19 Especial proofs of this.  Freeman of Grace, whereof thou'st but a 
* 1. Cor. 13. 1. joh 3.2.  shade  
Whiles here on earth, but shalt hereafter have  
The very substance, much as thou canst crave,  
Or shalt know how to wish: (and 'twill not be  
An age before my mercy comes to thee,  
And takes thee hence, to make thee possident  
Of all the happiness which here is meant:)  
Now comfort here thy soul, and come and see  
Those wondrous things that I have done for thee.  
This spoke, behold, my sad attentive sprite  
Now raised up, but then with woeful sight  
Of my deserts, even tumbled down to death;  
Yet here again revived with sweeter breath  
Drawn from this sacred Oracle, which I  
Herd warbling forth that pleasing Mystery  
Of everlasting love, it faintly 'gan  
To urge me thus to speak, which I as man,  
Thus faintly breathed out: O sacred tongue,  
That hast awaked me with so sweet a song,  
Come once again I pray thee, let me hear  
Some more of this that tickled so mine ear  
With sweet celestial rapes: O how mine eye  
Doth long to see this happy Mystery  
Explained to the full! What is't I hear?  
I'm freed from death, from hell; I need not fear,  
My debts are paid, and all my misery  
Is freely ta'en away from me, and I  
Made 
n Ephes. 2.19.  Citizen of Grace, and shall possess  
Ere long, the full of changeless happiness.  
O welcome news! and fain would I believe  
This which I would were true: but lo, I grieve,  
Because I cannot see so much, my sin  
Doth lie so lumpish on my soul within,  
And presseth down so sore, alas, that I  
Cannot so much as lift my drowsy eye  
To apprehend this Light: 
o Rom. 7.24.  O wretched man!  
Who shall deliver me? All that I can,  
Seems worse and worse: the more I seem to stand,  
The more I see Satan with all his band  
Of wicked thoughts, so furiously combine  
To pull me down, that all the strength of mine  
Cannot so much 
p For, as resist.  resist; but wretched I  
Am hurried down to deeper misery.  

q The Regenerate man's changes many and miserable.  Thus miserable man with grief I see  
Such fearful tumults rising still in me,  
That I can never rest, or long possess  
The sweet beholding of my happiness.  
Sometimes I feel indeed, O blessed hour!  
My soul is ravished by a secret power  
Descending from above, whose sweet inspires  
Do work such wonders on my slow desires,  
That I am carried suddenly so high  
Beyond myself, beyond mortality;  
As scarce me thinks, I would vouchsafe a thought  
On any thing below, which seems as nought,  
Not worth the looking on, when I compare  
Its baseness with the price of what is there:  
Alas! 'tis all as 
a Phil. 3.8.  dung, for while mine eyes  
Are busied in those higher Theories,  
Me thinks I seem in manner to possess  
A part of Heaven's eternal Blessedness;  
Which now I am so thirsty for, and fain  
Would have those sweet assurances again  
But lo, when I had lifted up mine eye  
To apprehend this sacred Mystery  
Of thine eternal love, and 
b Psalm. 2.12.  kiss that 
* For Son, as in the Text because he is the Sun. Malach. 4.2.  Sun  
Of Grace, which seemed thus smilingly to run  
To lighten me, and by his powerful beams  
To 
c Cantic. 1.4. joh. 6.4, 4.  draw me out from these my deep extremes  
Of sin and misery: Lo, here I say,  
When I had thought, Sure now my wished day  
Of happiness is come, and I shall see  
The sweet beginnings of my life with thee;  
My adversary, Satan, he that still  
Hath been th'occasioner of all my ill,  

d Gen. 3.1.  Sly Serpent as he is, that always lies,  
And lurks to take his opportunities  
To spoil man of his happiness; Lo, he  
That always bears immortal 
e Gen. 3.15.  enmity  
To thee, and thine, as grieving much that I  
Should ever see that happy mystery 
How the devil watches all opportunities to hinder man from happiness.   
Of this thy boundless love to me; and then  
When I had seen, to tell to other men  
Thy wondrous works, that they might also see  
How good thou art, and so appeal to thee  
In all their deep extremities: whereby  
Satan must down: for when we magnify  
Thy high and hallowed Name, then doth he know,  
That he is nearest to his overthrow.  
He sets on me a fresh, I say; for now  
He saw how near his time was come, and how  
I almost was beyond his reach; he begins  
To summon all the legions of my sins  
To press on me at once, and interpose  
As gloomy clouds, that sun which now arose  
To comfort me: and herewithal I began  
(O see the weakness of a sinful man)  
To droop, and drowsy out my time, as one  
That sleepeth out the absence of the Sun  
In gloomy days. Me thought I had no heart  
To any good: But see the damned art  
Of this deceiver; when he saw that I  
Was drowzing thus, (an opportunity  
Wherein most commonly he works his will)  
" By drawing man from drowsiness, to ill:  
He secretly invades on me, and there  
Lays all his wicked stratagems, to rear  
A mutiny within me; where my Spirit,  
Because she was deprived of that sweet light,  
(Which was indeed her 
f joh 1.4.  life) did quickly yield,  
And then my flesh 'gan repossess the field.  
Which done, he represents unto my will  
New kill sin, under the sweetest pill  
That sense can wish; so 
g Gen. 3.6.  pleasing to mine eye  
And taste; I could not choose but take and try,  
The flesh enforced so; and Reason's sight  
Was gone, I could not see to take the right.  
New sin said I? Oh no, the sin was old;  
Only it had put on another mould,  
Seeming far sweeter than before; but lo,  
When eaten, 'twas the very gall of woe.  

How the devil beguileth us to sin. " Thus doth he slyly use to represent  
" Old sin to us, in forms of new content,  
Such as he knows will please us best: but when  
The soul hath eaten it again, Oh then  
She sees with grief, the sin is nothing new,  
But old in all, save in its act, and hue:  
And that new-seeming good it had in show;  
In proof, alas, is nothing less than so.  
Now, by the way, you troubled souls, 
A short digression to my troubled Readers.  that be  
In earnest longings as it were, with me,  
To see that Sun of happiness; even you  
That fain would bid this world, and all adieu,  
To solace in his light; whose virtuous beams  
Will quickly wipe away all teary streams  
From off your eyes, and raise you up so high,  
As ne'er more, to be touched with misery;  
Be not dismayed, I pray, although you see  
Those many rubs that cross, and hinder me  
In this my way to happiness; but think  
Yourselves must have the like, before you drink  
Of that pure Well of life: Expect, that he  
Which always deals thus treacherously with me,  
Doth also watch your ways; and when he spies  
His fittest time, will rear up mutinies  
Within you too: for lo, he'll never cease  
To vex, unless it be, where all is peace  
With him; that is, whose souls are all within  
His own precincts, as willing slaves to sin.  

k The temptation of evil thoughts especially to be heeded.  And 'mongst the rest, when wicked thoughts arise,  
That represent you nought but vanities,  
Seeming to please the flesh; Oh then take heed,  
Satan is come on you; and if with speed  
You do not cast them off, they will betray  
The soul into his hands. Oh, these are they  
That set on me so sore; these are the pills  
That do induce me to so many ills:  
These interrupt my soul, when she would fly  
Beyond this neither Orb of vanity,  
To contemplate her God (that only can  
Give true content unto the soul of man:)  
And these are they, (O would to God that I  
Could say herein unto myself, I lie:  
Would sad experience had not made me know  
The truth of this, to mine abundant woe:)  
That slyly steal upon, and do surprise  
Those heau'n-bent hearts, and upward looking eyes  
That would be votaries to good, (while they  
Are 
i Psalm. 39.12.  Pilgrims here; still travelling on the way  
To their eternal blessedness; the home,  
Whereto, they cannot rest, until they come;)  
And carry them, even quite against their will,  
To straying paths, to wander on in ill:  
And when (alas) the soul shall but digest  
One little thought of ill; yea, though the least,  
That make the room for more, (so strong is ill,  
The very lest is great enough to kill:)  
For one ill seldom goes alone; but when  
That gets a hold, it 
k Matth. 12.45. Luk. 1●. 26.  brings in other ten  
As bad, or worse than it; which being in,  
As wicked thieves, they presently begin  
To fall upon the good, and dispossess  
Them of their rights, fill all with heaviness.  

The miseries that follow sin.  But to myself again: When careless I  
Had swallowed down this pleasing misery  
Of one unhappy thought; O how my heart  
Was strucken strait with a benumbing smart,  
Pressed with a heavy drowsiness; my sin  
Had cast such gloomy mists on all within.  
And hereupon, (O that so light a toy  
Should seem to shipwreck all my former joy,  
And so o'erwhelm my soul with fears, that I  
Should lose myself so long in misery.)  
A Legion more (the most unlucky shade  
That ever yet did my poor soul invade)  
Of thoughts, distracted thoughts came rushing in,  
And fain would have me (desperate) on in sin;  
Ne'er hope for Goodness more; ne'er spend my pain  
For that, which was so difficult to gain:  
Nay, more, alas, (O that my shameless pen  
Should dare to whisper out to other men  
Those private conflicts of my soul, for fear  
I should offend the true religious ear:  
For Christians should not once so much as name  
Such things as these, lest some say, 'tis profane:)  
They drew me to such dangerous Rocks, 
The fearefullst temptation of all others.  that I  
Was put to doubtings of a Deity;  
Whether I had a God or no, that He  
Should seem to go so far away from me  
In those my greatest deeps: O how my spirit  
Was mazed at this unaccustomed fight?  
How was I shaken? How was all my man  
Struck down with fear? Good God 
a Psalm. 39.12. in our singing Psalms.  how pale and wan  
My outward visage was, 
b Eccles. 13.25, 26.  which might bewray  
The grievous conflicts of mine inward fray?  
How did I walk disconsolate, as one  
That had no life in him, or had alone  
His life to live in misery? wherein  
'twere better not to be, then to have been.  
But here, dear Christians▪ you, 
To my Christian Readers.  whose happier Eyes  
Are always blest with feeling Theories  
Of Heavens chief Goodness; you that sweetly run  
These happy paths, ne'er clouded from the Sun,  
Condemn me not (I pray you) strait, that I  
Bear not a part in that felicity,  
Which you yourselves are in; but rather praise  
The goodness of that God, whose Gracious Rays  
He would in mercy make your eyes to see,  
But in his justice hide them now from me,  
For reasons known best to himself: (and who  
Shall dare gainsay what pleaseth him to do?)  
O be 
c Sc. Christians.  yourselves, I pray; which if you be,  
Then am I sure, you'll rather pity me  
With earnest prayers in my behalf, that I  
May win at length a happy victory  
After these dreary storms: 
d jam. 5.16.  Oh, these are they  
I need especially; Good Reader, pray  
To help me out; and know, what now is mine,  
If justice please, to morrow may be thine:  
Calmes seldom hold continually; and we,  
Though now in storms, have yet a hope to see  
A fairer day. Thus may the loftiest eyes  
Look for a fall, and I may look to rise:  
And I may look! Alas, poor soul, how fain  
Wouldst thou be lifting up thine eyes again,  
To see that Light of happiness, that Sun,  
Whose beams erewhile so wondrously begun  
To glad thy drooping spirits, and to expel  
The dismal clouds of all thy former Hell?  
But, O unhappy wretch! how do I see  
My gloomy sin's o're-vaile and shadow me?  
What ghastly thoughts do wrest away mine eyes,  
To gad, and gaze on thousand vanities,  
And various shows of ill; which give to me  
No more content, then doth my misery?  
Alas, they vex me ten times more; for these  
Will not so much as let me seek for ease,  
Which that enforceth me to do; but still  
They urge me onwards to some other ill,  
Which seems as though 'twould give me ease, but when  
I've also tried its Remedy, Oh then  
I grieve to see my foolishness, that I  
Should be thus flattered on in misery:  
For still the more I add to ill, the more  
I add of poison to my festered sore,  
The more I add to weigh me down to Hell,  
And more of pain my conscious soul doth tell,  
That I of force must undergo, ere I  
Recover back my first felicity.  
" Such ease it seems to fall towards Hell: but then,  
" Alas, how full of tears to rise again.  
And thus I add unto my griefs, although  
My stupid flesh would fain persuade me no;  
Oh, this is it that kills my soul, to see  

Dullness or deadness of soul how miserable.  I'm sick even to the death, yet not to be  
Touched truly with the sense of it, whereby  
I might in haste go seek for remedy  
With some new kind of Rhetoric, with cries  
And teary-words; making my weeping eyes  
My humble intercessors; and my groans  
To utter forth more lamentable Tones,  
Then ever yet before; which might enforce  
The Heavens, and all unto a new remorse:  
And chiefly to appease the angry frown  
Of my Great God, whose absence throws me down  
To all those deeps of misery; that I  
Should so misprise that high benignity,  
And Riches of his love (which was to me  
The very sum of true felicity:)  
As to exchange it for a taste, or twain  
Of Satan's sweets, and so to entertain  
In stead of him, those guests which now possess  
My soul with nought, but cursed bitterness,  
And sad desparing-heavy thoughts: and these  
Are all the salves that Satan hath to ease  
The troubled soul. O what a fool was I,  
Thus to believe his damned flattery?  
Did I not know enough before, how he  
Beguiled my 
e Adam, and Eue.  Parents, as he now doth me,  
To eat of the forbidden fruit, and said,  
That they should be 
f Gen. 3.5.  as Gods, ere he betrayed  
Their souls into his cruel hands? But then  
He threw them down below the state of men,  
And then he triumphed in their falls, as now  
He doth in mine. But, 
g Gen. 3.9.  Adam, where art thou?  
Or rather, where am I? Why do I run  
Amongst the 
h Gen. 3.8.  trees to hide me from the Sun?  
I'll go unto my God again, and there  
Will never cease to call, until he hear  
From out his holy Place, and thence come down  
To take me up; and till that angry frown  
Be turned to wont pleasing similes; and he  
Shall sweetly come again, and show to me  
Those endless Riches of his love, which erst  
He began reveal: for lo, I cannot rest;  
My 
i Psal. 77.2.  soul will not be comforted, till I  
Shall see at full that happy Mystery  
Of his eternal love, whereof while-ere  
I had a glimpse: O let me but come there  
To that high seat of happiness, to see  
The fullness of that true felicity;  
And in the midst of that sweet Theory,  
O let my body melt away and dye;  
Or let me dye unto the flesh, that so  
My soul may ne'er more taste of body's woe;  
But always be hereafter throned so high,  
As still enjoy that happy Theory:  
Where is my God so long? O where art thou,  
My 
k john 1.4.  Light, my Life, my Happiness? Come now,  
O quickly, come and take me up, for fear  
I fall into the ghastly 
l Psalm. 143.7.  pit, and there  
Be none to help me up again. O why  
Didst thou in anger take away thine eye  
So suddenly from me? Thou knewest full well,  
I needs must fall down to the pit of hell,  
When thou didst fail to hold me up. Alas!  
I knew before how poor and weak I was;  
How full of misery; which made me call,  
As erst I did, to thee for help, when all  
Were fled away beside, and there was none  
That could relieve me but thyself alone:  
Good God what didst thou mean in this, to show  
Thy wondrous love to me, but strait to throw  
Me down again from sight of it, that I  
Had not the time so much, as to apply  
Lest comfort to my soul from thence? for lo,  
All that I learned hence, was this, to know  
There was indeed a help, but to my grief;  
Because I was not able take relief,  
Or any ease from thence: and sure 't had been  
For me far better that I ne'er had seen,  
Then thus to see, and not enjoy that Light,  
Which who once sees, can never take delight  
In any thing beside, or be content,  
Till he become a happy Possident  
Of that which he so sweetly saw. But stay,  
Rash foolish wretch! what was't that I did say  
To thee, my God? What, did I say, 'twas Thou  
That thus hast thrown me down so low? O how  
My foolishness betrays itself? 'Twas I;  
Even I myself, mine own iniquity  
My 
m Psal. 107.17, 18.  foolish turning ' way from thee, my sin  
That brought me to these deeps I now am in,  
Even to the gates of death. But thou, my God,  
Didst often come with thy chastizing rod,  
To call me home again, and did●●ord  
The sweet 〈…〉 of thy quickening Wo●d,  
To 
b Ps. ●07. 20.  heal my ●r'd soul: but foolish I  
Would still be turning back to vanity.  
The Sun shone on me, but, alas, my sight  
Did rather choose to wander in the night  
Of gloomy sin, then ascend so hi●,  
As bless itself with 〈◊〉 sweet Theory  
Of this thy wondrous love to me. But stay,  
Poor foolish man▪ What is't again, I say?  
Did rather choose? 
c Experimental proofs against man's free will to any spiritual good▪  Al●s, was't in my choice  
To apprehend than light, or to rejoice  
In things beyond my reach? Fool that I am;  
Could I do this? Sure I were more than man,  
But woe is me, Adam unhappy Son;  
My sinful pours 〈◊〉 now refrained to one,  
And that is bad; I have no 
d Not that Papists have this free will, but that out of the pride of their hearts they say so, as also to defend their opinion of Merits, which is alike derogatory from God's glory.  Papists will  
To take the good, or to refuse the ill,  
How, when, or where I please: alas, I see  
These high prerogatives are far from me!  
I owe more to thy Grace then so: for when  
At any time I take the good, Oh then  
I feel within a sweet dependency  
I have alone on thee; and 'tis not I  
Myself I mean no more, but all 
e 1. Cor. 15.10.  thy Grace  
That works in me, which makes me thus embrace  
That which is only good. And hence again  
I see that tale of merits is so vain,  
That I must needs confess, my humbled hope  
Can never build so much upon the Pope,  
That I should e'er expect by doing well,  
Unless by Grace, any other Heaven than Hell:  
I speak but what I feel. Now if there be  
Some sinful sons of Ade, as well as me,  
That ever truly f●lt their hearts, Oh then  
They'll also know themselves to be but men,  
And never build on self deserts, whereby,  
They can win nought but hell and misery:  
For all that they can do, is ill, unless  
By 
f Ephes. 2.8.  Grace; and that is no deservingness,  
Because not theirs, but Gods; from whom alone  
They have their goodness; or if not, have none▪  
If they'll be more than this, sure they must be  
The sons of Ade in his integrity,  
And is it so? Good God, then what am I,  
That I should go along thus heavily,  
And not enjoy thy countenance? Alas!  
Am I of 
g job 6 12.  stone, or in my flesh of brass,  
To undergo these heavy storms, to be  
So long left to myself, deprived of thee?  
How is't I fall not down to hell? or how  
I die not strait in these my sins? sure thou,  
Thou hast thy working hand in this, though I  
Perceive it not with my too fleshy eye;  
For 'tis impossible that I should 
h jam. 3.22. Wisd. 11. 2●.  stand  
Thus long, unless thy all protecting hand  
Did hold me up. Good God, then let me know  
As thou art Good, and kind to those that show  
Their griefs to thee, what is the cause that I  
Should be thus plunged in deepest misery,  
Deprived of thee so long why didst thou let  
These 
●udg 16.20, 21.  Philistims alone, till they'd beset  
My soul about? I mean, those poisonous pills  
Of wicked thoughts, those harbingers of ills,  
That now possess my drowsy man, and thence  
Do drive ' way all my good, and former sense  
Of thy sweet favours, which were wont to be  
My greatest helps in greatest misery.  
Why is't, said I? why sure 'tis for my sin:  
Yea, blessed God, but yet there lies within  
Some other cause: or else I pray thee, why  
Dost thou not ●ut me quite away▪ for I  
Deserve as justly that, as thus to be  
Vexed with a tedious life that wanteth thee.  
But sure thou hast some other aims, I know,  
As erst that 
k sc. job.  man of Patience found, although  
Man's wisdom sees it not; thy 
l job 37.14, 23. Esay 40.28.  works far pass  
Our feeble findings out: But yet, alas,  
Pity a wretch, come gently deign, and show,  
What I myself know not which way to know;  
The cause I mean; as thou art Good, come tell,  
Why is't I hang so long 'twixt heaven, and hell?  
Why dost thou hide thy countenance? O why  
Dost thou forsake me thus in misery?  
Why dost thou leave me to myself? to see  
What I would do without depends from thee?  
And how behave myself when I should fight  
Against that adversary of the Light,  
The Prince of darkness, that grand enemy  
Unto my peace? Alas, thou needst not try  
To see what I would do, thou knowst full well  
What I must do; despair, and so to hell.  
Thus didst thou try thy servant job; but sure  
Hadst thou not gi'en him virtue to endure  
Those heavy storms, and held him up withal  
By secret Grace, he ●ould not choose but fall  
As well as I: for he was man, and had  
Depends alike from thee; only in b●d  
I differ, 'cause he was 
m job 1.1. Chap. 2.3.  upright▪ but I  
A man polluted with iniquity:  
And yet in this he could not say, that he  
Was 
n job 9.2, 3.  righteous of himself, 'twas all from thee,  
Even from thy Grace: And should it please thee say,  
That I am clean and just, why sure I may  
Be right as he; thus he, and all as I,  
In what is good, have like dependency  
" On thee out God; and there is none that can  
" Be good himself, as he is merely man.  
But come I to myself again, alas!  
This helps not yet, I still am where I was,  
In my old deeps of misery; and thou  
My Gracious God, O would it please thee now  
At length to manifest thyself, and show  
Thy judgements here to me, that I might know  
Thy works (past finding out by man,) and see  
The reasons of thy dealings thus with me.  
O Lord, 
o Psal. 6.3.  how long wilt thou delay? how long  
Shall I continue yet my plaining song,  
Before thy mercies come to me, and I  
Behold at full that blessed mystery  
Of thy sweet 
p Mal. 4.2.  Sun of Righteousness, which thou  
Didst erst begin reveal to me, but now  
Hast clouded from mine eyes again. Alas!  
I am not steel, nor is my flesh of brass,  
(As erst I said) that I should e'er endure  
Such heavy fearful brunts as these; for sure  
I feel with 
q Psal. 88.6, 7 15, 16. H●man was one of the finger's of Israel, 1. Chro. 25. & 2. Chr. 5.12 etc.  H●man now Thy wrathful hand  
Lies hard on me; and who is able stand  
Under its weight?) Again, 'tis of a truth,  
Thy terrors have I suffered from my 
r Childhood.  youth  

s Or, with troubled mind, as in the Text, vers. 15. in our daily reading Psalms.  Up hitherto, so grievous, that I lie  
Like him who is even at the point to dye  
At every min●●es end: or else to go  
Beyond those bounds of Heman Sea of woe?  
Behold, I'm dead already, yet not dead,  
As Heman seemed almost, who was but led  
With outward grievances to plain and cry,  
As here he did, in his extremity,  
For 
t Vers. 8.  want of friends, or c'ause his enemies  
Were multiplied, and his adversities  
Had overwhelmed him quite, yet none would hear  
Or pity him, so that he was as 'twere  
A man forlorn, even brought unto his grave,  
For want of what indeed he ought to have.  
And sure these his extremes were wondrous great,  
I must confess, whence he might well entreat  
Thy aiding face for help, and might complain  
For want of it, when all things else were vain;  
And either fled 
u As friends use to do in adversity, Psal. 38.11.  as friends, or did conspire  
As foes, to clog him still in sorrow's mire.  
But these (if this be all) are gentle flaws  
To my more inward storms of soul; because  
They only kill our bodies, but these 
x Psal. 88.7.  waves  
Hurry our souls to mo●e unhappy graves:  
And sure 'twere nought, if I had all the griefs  
This world can load me with, yet no reliefs  
At all from it; and were my friends (most dear)  
far distant from me, (as they are not near:)  
And were it that they all forsook me quite,  
And every one beside swollen up with spite,  
As cruel foes to vex me still, and I  
Were left implunged in all the misery  
That worldlings can invent, brought to my grave;  
(As 
y Psal. 4.5.  Heman was:) Only let me but have  
The joy of thy 
z Psal. 4▪ 6. & 16. ●1.  sweet countenance, and then  
I will not once so much as grieve at them:  
Let me, I say, but have my peace with thee,  
And come what comes, all shall be well with me:  
For all the worst that they can do, is this,  
To send my soul the sooner to her bliss.  
But woe is me, these are but toys, if weighed  
With my great grievances; for lo, thou'st laid  
Me in the 
a Psal. 88.6.  lowest pit, a dismal place  
Of nought but darkness, where no glimpse of Grace  
Doth once so much as shine on me, whereby  
I might but taste some true felicity  
In these my griefs, or else might cease to be  
In misery, whiles I might speak to thee  
In praises, not in plaints. Alas, I'm dead  
Already, as I said, my soul's o'respred  
With a benumbing Lethargy of sin,  
So that I'm throughly dead, but where? Within:  
My body lives, alas, but woe is me,  
My soul is dead, and that for want of thee,  
Which art alone her 
b Deut. 30.20. Psal. 42.8.  life: this is my grave,  
The deep wherein I am, that dismal Cave  
Whereto I'm brought: and who, alas, am I  
E'er to endure so great a misery  
As this? to live without a soul, or be  
Left to myself, and quite deprived of thee.  
Alas, how oft shall I repeat, how oft  
Shall I tell o'er my griefs? what, is there nought  
That's able comfort me? 
c Psal. 77.9.  Hast thou forgot  
Thy mercies, O my God? or hast thou not  

d Gen. 27.38  One blessing left for me? shall it be said,  
That ever any sought to thee for aid,  
And was denied? Or can man's misery  
Exceed the bounds of thy benignity,  
And mercy which is infinite? Oh no;  
I'm quite amiss; these can be nothing so:  
Thy mercies never were forgot, nor thou  
Without a blessing for a son, though now  
Thou seemest hard in granting me; beside,  
There's none e'er sought thee, that was yet denied  
Thy saving Grace: nor can man's miseries  
Exceed the bounds of thy benignities,  
And mercies which are infinite; for they  
Are only finite: but if so, I pray  
Let me go on with thee, my God, then why  
Dost thou so long pro●ogue my misery,  
And dost not grant my suit? for I have cried  
To thee for mercy, but am yet denied  
In my extremes. Alas, what wouldst thou have?  
How should I woe thee, or how should I crave  
To win thy love? Thou knowst I am but man,  
And wouldst thou have me do more than I can?  
I may not force thee whenever thou wilt, or no,  
To love and pity me: for were it so,  
I needed not entreat so much: but I  
Am 
a Psal. 119. ●4.  thine, O Lord; my poor humanity  
Is subject to thy beck, and let it be  
My glory still, still to be so to thee.  
But than what shall I do? Where shall I go  
To ease me of this heavy grief? for lo,  
I've gone about as man, and done my best  
To wear it out, but yet I cannot rest:  
One while I think to drive away the pain,  
By drowzying out my time: but this is vain;  
When I awake, it comes afresh: but then  

The tricks of these times to drive away all discontents, how value and comfortless if truly thought on.  To try the common helps of godless men,  
(Which mostly now they use to drive away  
Some melancholy dump, or drowsy day:)  
I carded it out awhile, (but for the Die  
Indeed I hate, 'cause 〈◊〉 vanity  
That hangs so much on chance, and has ●o wit;  
And five to one 'gainst him that lays on it.)  
And then perchance, 
b A simile fit for these times.  as when some three or four  
Of honest Lads are met to lose an hour  
Or two in sober merriment; we have  
A Bowl or twain of Beer, (but he's a knave  
They say, that drinks not whole ones off: but I  
Have always hated too this vanity,  
'Cause 't has no show of pleasure in't, unless  
It be to drown one's brains in sottishness,  
And ' reave him both at once of sense and wit:  
Which if it please, let men delight in it;  
For me, I like it not.) But here again,  
As erst I said, this help is also vain,  
Alas, it gives me no content: for when  
I've spent away my time with other men,  
In these, or such like fooleries as these,  
And dream all's well, because I seem to please  
My outward 
c Or, flesh.  fence; alas, even than I find  
So often secret pangs within my mind,  
Which come as doleful warning-bells to toll  
Such fearful peals to my dead-sleepie soul,  
That I can never rest in peace, until  
I've quite thrown off this 
d Acts 28.3, 5  Viper of mine ill,  
The sin that hangeth on so fast: for this  
It is alone 
e Esay 59.2.  that interrupts my bliss,  
The cursed cloud that hath almost undone  
My woeful soul, by keeping off the Sun  
Of Grace so long from it. And here, alas,  
I always feel (how e'er it comes to pass)  
Such inward wars, that there's no peace with me,  
Nor will, before I have my peace with thee.  
Others, perchance, may feel a seeming ●ase,  
When they resort to such vain helps as these,  
In their extremes. Indeed I cannot tell  
What others f●●le; but that it goes not well  
With me I'm sure: and howsoe'er, if I  
May speak the truth (for sure I dare not lie  
Before my God) to them; think what they will,  
That all is well, when nothing is not ill;  
Because they have a fair flesh-pleasing calm,  
Whiles thus they run to vanity for Balm  
To cure their wounds; yet let them know (how e'er  
They dream themselves the farthest off from fear,  
Because they do not feel the same) that they  
Are in the 
f Acts 8.23.  gall of woe: and though they may  
Seem senseless for a while; yet lo, the day,  
That 
g Eccles. 12. ●, 3, 4, 5, etc.  doleful day will come, when they shall say,  
We have no pleasure in't; when 
h The hands.  they that keep  
The house, shall tremble; when the 
i The legs.  strong men creep,  
And bow themselves; the 
k The teeth.  grinders cease, and when  
Those (Seers of the vanities of men,)  
That 
l The eyes.  look out at the windows, lose their light;  
And when the 
m The lips.  doors are shut (because 'tis night)  
And when the grinding-sound is low; and all  
The 
n The wind-pipes.  Maids of music take their lowest fall;  
And when there's nothing left but trembling fears;  
And all desire shall fail; and when the tears  
Of mourners flow about the streets, 'cause they  
Are going then to their long home, the way  
Of all mankind: (for 
o Eccles. 12.14.  that eternal One  
Shall bring each work before his judgement Throne,  
Be't good or bad; and there will doom the ill  
Down to the vales of lasting death; but will  
Receive the good into his holy place,  
Where they shall always see him 
p 1. Cor. 13.12. 1. joh. 3.2.  face to face.)  
And when, as erst I said, these days of woe  
Are come, Oh then they will begin to know  
All's not so well as thought with them, although  
The flesh did slyly seem persuade them so;  
I mean, when dreary days of sickness come,  
Or death to call them to their latest home,  
(For these will come,) O then they will begin  
To feel so many armies (hid within)  
Of fearful sins beset their sleepy souls  
So suddenly, that they'll have nought but howls  
And sad despairing cries, to be their fence  
'Gainst these resistless enemies: and sense  
Will then be quick to feel (but all too late)  
What erst, alas, they did not feel to hate  
Their cursed peace with flesh and vanity,  
Which is indeed a mortal 
q Rom. 8.6, 7  enmity  
With God himself: for sure the flesh and he  
Are enemies, and they can ne'er agree.  
So then to be at peace with flesh, is this,  
To be a merely wicked one, which is  
Not to have peace at all, for such have none,  

r Esay 57 ult.  There is no peace unto the wicked (one)  
So says my God. Thus may they learn and see,  
What 'tis to be at peace, if not with thee.  
Alas, 'tis 
s Rom. 8.6, 7.  death. But to return again  
From whence I strayed: Since all these helps are vain,  
(For I am troubled still so sore, that I  
Can have no rest, while clouded from thine eye:)  
Good God, what shall I do, where shall I go  
To be delivered of this child of woe?  
This heavy burden of my sin, whereby  
My soul is pressed so low, she cannot fly  
To thee her God, there to behold and see  
Those wondrous things which thou hast done for me.  
Alas, why dost thou leave me then? and why  
Dost thou so long in anger hide thine 
t job 13.24.  Eye,  
Thus to prorogue my griefs? Shall humane sense  
Dare strive it out with thy Omnipotence  
On self presumes; as though it could withstand  
Thy mightiness, or wrest from out thy hand  
Thy mercies by constraint; when with one breath  
Thou canst consume us every one to death?  
Oh no, my God; such lawless thoughts as these  
May not come near my heart: then would it please  
Thy goodness pity me at length: for why,  
Thou knowst full well I cannot choose but die,  
Unless thou come and pity me. Oh then  
Delay me not, my God, but come again,  
O quickly come, revive me with thy Grace,  
And with those beams, (those issues of thy face)  
The joy of thy sweet 
u Psal. 4.6. & 16.11.  countenance; which when  
My soul is fully blest withal, Oh then  
I'll crave no more, save only this, thereby  
Still to enjoy that blessed Theory  
Of thine eternal love to me, in him  
Whom erst thou didst reveal; that so my sin  
Might be abolished quite, and I may be  
Knit in inseparable Ties to thee:  
O meet me here, my God, this is the place,  
The time, the opportunity for Grace:  
Fitter thou canst not have, than this; for lo,  
I'm wearied out, and can no further go  
For want of Grace. My soul is qui●● bereft  
Of all her strength, and here, alas, I'm left  
As one forlorn, that neither can relieve  
Himself, nor call to any else to give  
Him some Relief: for sure I'm grown so cold  
And senseless of my griefs, that now behold,  
I cannot draw one tear from out my head  
To plain myself, alas, I am so dead:  
So dead in sin, I mean, for want of Grace  
To quicken me, that so mine eyes and face  
Might flow with tears (springing from lively sense  
Of what I am:) true tears of penitence;  
And every word I speak, might tell my woes,  
By weeping all along the way it goes.  
O this were well, were it so well with me,  
That I could be so good as I would be,  
Thus penitent I mean, until mine eyes  
Had throughly wept away my miseries  
And sins at once; and there were none behind,  
As envious clouds, to interrupt and blind  
My heau'n-b●●t soul, when fain she'd up and see  
Those wondrous things which thou hast done for me.  
Alas! but 'tis not so, my God, there lies  
That massy lump of my infirmities.  
Betwixt my soul, and thee, which always press  
Me down so low, that I must needs confess  
Mine own unhappy wants, whose bleared eye  
Can never reach this sacred Mystery  
Of thine eternal love, although it be  
No less than 
u john 17.3.  life's eternal loss to me,  
In that I cannot reach the same, and Bliss  
Again as endless, if I could do this:  
Yet all is one, my poor humanity,  
Alas, is too too weak, and cannot fly  
Itself to thee, to apprehend that Light,  
For man could never save himself by 
x 2. Cor. 5.7.  sight  
Without thy 
y Ephes 2.8.  Grace; which only purifies,  
And takes ' way those ill humours from our eyes,  
That hinder blessed sights, and in their steed  
Inspires us with those that are eyes indeed,  
Those 
z 2. Cor. 5.7. and Ephes. 1.18, compared with Chap. 2.8.  eyes of faith I mean, which only may  
Approach (that treasure of eternal day)  
Thy holy hill, there to behold and see  
The 
a Ephes. 1.18 Col. 1 26, 27.  Riches of that Glory hid with thee  
From all eternity, the 
b Ephes. 3.18 19  depth, the height  
Which none can comprehend without the light  
Of thy allseeing Spirit: that 
c Ephes. 3.19.  mystery  
Of everlasting love, which now mine eye  
Doth long so much to see, and till I see,  
Alas, there's nothing that can comfort me:  
Oh then, my God, here let thy Grace descend,  
Here let it come, and put a happy end  
To this my tedious night of grief; and here  
Let that sweet 
d Malac. 4.2.  Sun of Righteousness appear  
(Which erst 'gan shine) in such majestic hue,  
That all these gloomy shades may bid adieu;  
While his sweet rays come vsh'ring in the day,  
Or run (as 
e Esay 40.3. Mat. 3.3.  john) before, to make the way:  
And here, great Lord, come raise me up so high  
(
f Psal. 119.169.  According to thy word) that now mine eye  
May soar up to thy Mercy-seat, and there  
As Heaven's pure eyes, fixed in a holier Sphere  
Be freed from all corruptions taint, while I  
Go bathe my soul in that sweet Theory  
Of thine eternal love, and when I see  
Those high prerogatives I have by thee,  
How thou hast made me free from death, from sin,  
From hell, and all those miseries wherein  
I now lie plunged, and those whereto I tend  
As of myself, and less thy Grace descend  
And quickly come and take me up, alas,  
I needs must fall; and when it comes to pass,  
That thy sweet 
g joh. 14. ●6. & 15.26.  Comforter shall come, and tell  
To my sad soul again, that all is well  
With me: and when I feel thy quickening Spirit  
That harbinger, and pledge of true delight,  

h Rom. 8. ●6.  Bear witness unto mine, that I am made  

i Eph 2.18, 19  Free man of Grace, whereof I've but a shade  
Whiles here on earth, but shall hereafter have  
The very substance, much as I can crave,  
Or shall know how to wish; as erst to me  
Thou didst declare in that sweet mystery  
Of thy great love; then shall my tongue and pen  
Be wholly votaries to thee, and then  
My sad Urania (whose now weeping eyes  
Are quite worn out with plain, tears, and cries)  
When she but apprehends those gladsome rays,  
Shall metamorphose all her notes to praise;  
And I myself, with all I have, will be  
As one that's wholly consecrate to thee,  
Who am alone redeemed by thee. Oh then,  
Here come, my God; here quickly come again,  
And take me up; here let me sweetly hear  
Those heavenly tunes again, which did while-ere  
Give such reviuals to my soul, that I  
Was almost past my Sea of misery,  
Ne'er to be plunged in it again; if thou  
Hadst not so suddenly withdrawn the brow  
Of that sweet Sunshine of thy Grace, whereby  
I began to see the blessed 
k Rom. 8.21.  liberty  
Of those who are the sons of God. But come,  
Great Maker, now, and what thou hast begun  
In me thy creature, perfect up; that so  
When after-ages shall both see, and know  
How kindly thou hast dealt with me, they may  
Appeal to thee in like extremes, and pray  
To thee alone for help, seeing that I  
(David's 
l Psal. 34.6.  poor man) did humbly call, and cry  
To thee, and was delivered: for if he  
Were heard, they'll say, then doubtless so shall we.  
What wilt thou more? This is the time and place,  
As erst I said; thou seest I want thy Grace  
So much, poor soul, as 
m We have extreme need of Grace, when we cannot heartily pray for it.  scarce I'm able call  
To thee for Grace: and if thou'lt let me fall,  
Alas! I'm ready to consent, although  
It be my thraldom to eternal woe,  
Ne'er thence to be redeemed again: nay, more,  
Alas! I cannot choose but fall, so poor  
And weak a wretch am I, that fain if I  
Might have my will, (〈◊〉 decreed to die)  
I'd seek out opportunities, wherein  
I would enact s●me hig●●vnhallowed sin,  
That might exclude not quite from thee; alas!  
Such are the deeds myself would being to pass,  
And none but such; and then how canst thou have  
A fitter opportunity to save  
Then now thou hast in me? Was ever man  
Brought nearer yet to hell then now I am,  
That want but one unhappy step? Oh no;  
There's none can fall to greater deeps of woe,  
Unless he fall to hell itself: for I  
Am the next step, so full of misery,  
As quite o'ercome with it; or one 
n S● 〈◊〉 excell● l●●fac●as 〈◊〉 sum.  whose sense  
Is dulled with its exceeding violence,  
That so I cannot feel myself, unless  
It be like him that's in a drowsiness,  
Or some unhappy Lethargy, whereby  
He dully feels, but knows not how to cry,  

o The danger of a spiritual slumber or Lethargy, not to be cured by any humane remedies.  Or plain himself, or call for help: and sure  
This dangerous sickness is beyond the cure  
Of humans best preservatives, which can  
At most but reach unto the outward man,  
To ease, or comfort that awhile: but when  
Those heavy pangs oppress the soul, O then  
All these are vain: for what were it, if I  
Should live in body, whiles in soul I die?  
Alas! this were the life of death, when that  
Which is my body's life is dead. But what,  
What do I mean? Why is my troubled spirit  
Distracted thus? Can grief be infinite,  
Which rises from that inward sight of sin,  
Whereby we wail that woeful ●ase, wherein  
We see ourselves by nature, and whereby  
We learn betimes to climb so humbly high,  
As wholly to forsake ourselves, and cast  
Our hopes alone on thee, who only hast  
The treasures of eternal life? Sure no;  
This is that happy path, by which we go  
Into the way of saving 〈◊〉; and this  
Is that sweet milium to our future bli●,  
Through which indeed we must, before we may  
Approach those 
f joh. 14.2.  〈◊〉 of eternal day.  
Here then, dear God, here will I humbly 
g Ps. 130.5, 6.  wait  
With lowly confidence in this my strait,  
(A straight more great than 
h 2. Sam. 24.14.  David's was, when he  
Did erst betake himself alone to thee,  
Because thy mercies were so great) and here  
Because thy 
i Esay 63.5. and Psal. 107 filled with notable proofs hereof.  mercies also are full near  
In midst of humans greatest deeps, that hence  
We might observe, 'tis thy Omnipotence  
And Goodness only that relieves, when we  
Are ready to despair, because we see  
Nought else but 
k 2. Cor. ●. 9.  death within ourselves, and how  
There's nought beside can do us good, that thou  
May'st be made 
l 2. Cor. 15.28.  all in all▪ because, I say,  
Thou art so good, here will I humbly stay,  
Until thy mercies raise me up, (even here,  
Confounded in my plaints, without a tear  
To tell my further griefs, to verify,  
That sorrow in extremes is always dry.)  
Here will I lay me down, here will I stay,  
Alas, because I have no more to say:  
For lo, I'm dead in sin and grief; Oh then  
Here let thy goodness show itself, my Pen  
And Muse can speak no more, till thou descend  
And teach them more; needs must I make an end:  
And thus in deeps of this my silent grief,  
I humbly wait for answer of relief.  

m Man's miserable security being left to himself.  Here laying down myself, much like a man  
That's careless grown, I sleepingly began  
To drowsy out my days, not caring how  
I played the Prodigal with time: for now  
Said I, Sure I can do no more, mine eyes  
Are wearied with my tears; my sighs and cries  
Have quite overwhelmed my feeble soul, and I  
Am plunged in so deep a misery,  
That now I know not what to do: alas!  
For 
n Exod. 3.11.  who am I? My 
o Psal. 39.12. & 102.11.  pilgrim-days do pass  
Away as shades; and still the more I have  
Of life, the more I do approach my grave.  
All this I see, 
p That is, woe is me.  ay me, and more than this,  
That very cloud that hinders all my bliss,  
My sins do still increase on me; y●●, they  
Will have no interruptions, though my day  
Be clouded ere so much, they will not cease  
To vex my soul, nor let me live in peace;  
Alas! and these 
q Psal. 88.15.  distract me quite, while I  
Have not the power to make resistancie,  
When they oppose: but as a 
r Rom. 7.23.  captive slave,  
Am forced to yield at every thing they'll have,  
Because my Lord is far away, (whose Grace  
Alone should shield me from this great disgrace:)  
And I meanwhile, (O most unhappy man!  
That ever knew those deeps wherein I am)  
Am brought to doubtings of my God: for he  
Is not, said I; or surely if he be,  
How can he yet contain himself, that knows  
The wondrous deeps of these my sins and woes,  
And yet doth let me still alone till I  
Am quite overwhelmed, and past recovery?  
Alas! he dealt not so while-ere with those  
His 
s Psal. 22.4.  Saints of old, but sweetly would disclose  
Himself to them, especially when they  
Were in extremes, and did but come and pray  
With humbled hearts for his relief; as I  
Have often read in that 
t sc. the Bible.  sweet History  
Which registers his works, that holy Book,  
Which he preserves for all to overlook  
With serious meditation; which, I say,  
He still preserves till Doom's approaching day,  
By a resistless providence.) And then  
If they were heard so soon who were but men,  
As we may see in 
u Psal. 6, 8, 9  David, 
x Esay 38.5, 17.  Hezekiah,  
And all the rest of sacred Prophecy:  
(I speak not them as Kings, for sure with him  
We're men 
y Deut. 10.17 job 19.34. Rome 2.11.  alike, 
z Rome 3.23.  concluded all in sin:)  
What should I say, (I say) who am a man,  
As they, though not a King; who also ran  
Unto my God in these my deeps, and there  
With many a weary sigh, groan and tear,  
Have often begged of him for Grace, that I  
Might sweetly see that blessed mystery  
Of those who are his happied sons, and yet  
Am still denied, and can no further get,  
Do what I can? Alas, what should I say,  
Or think, or do? What steads it me to pray,  
And never have the thing I ask? alas!  
My strength, said I, is not the strength of brass,  
Thus to endure without relief; but I  
(The true Portrait of man's Infirmity)  
Am ready here to faint, to sink, to cease  
My fruitless suit, and hence to live at peace,  
I mean with flesh: ne'er more to toil for this  
Which is so hard to get, so high a bliss,  
That I can ne'er attain unto't. I see  
The way's too straight for selfe-humanitie,  
To thrust its feet into; or if it can,  
'Tis too-too hard to keep as it began;  
It hath so many rubs, so many Rocks,  
So many slippery falls, and hindering blocks,  
That 'twould discourage any one to think  
That he should go, nay come unto the brink  
Sometimes of Heaven, and thinking all is well;  
Yet strait be tumbled down again to Hell.  
All this I've known, (O most unhappy I  
To be experienced thus in misery!)  
And can I choose but faint? who is't descries  
The feeble props of man's infirmities?  
Who is't, I say, that would but rightly look  
Into the bloared volumes of man's book,  
(His secret thoughts I mean) and there oresee  
The heart in its corrupt Anatomy,  
But strait he'd say (conscious as I) that I  
Must faint indeed of mere necessity?  

Objection.  But here perhaps some happier soul will say,  
Go, go, fond wretch, first cast thy sins away;  
And then thou shalt be quickly heard; for sure  
thou'rt frozen in thy dregs, a man impure,  
That wallowest still in sin, or else ne'er doubt  
Thou'dst long ere this been heard and holpen out:  
For these are they that hinder thee, yea these  
Do 
a Esay 59.1.  separate thee from God, and do displease  
His pure-ill-hating eyes, so much that he  
Hath hid himself so long away from thee:  

b Esay 59.1.  Not that he cannot save, or hear; but 'cause  
Thou still runnest on in trespassing his Laws  
By thy continuing evil thoughts, and by  
Thy following acts full of iniquity:  
For he hath 
c Psal. ●39. 1, 2, 3.  known and searched thee, although  
The world indeed be blind, and cannot so.  
And hence it is, He will not hear, but will  
For certain leave thee, till thou leave thine ill.  
To this said I, Alas! I must confess, 
My answer.   
'tis true indeed, my sins, and wickedness  
Are wondrous great, ay me, they still increase,  
And I in them; (which hinders all the peace  
Of my unhappy soul:) Alas, they're such,  
I am ashamed yea quite ashamed so much  
As but to name them to the world, for fear  
I should offend those happier Saints that hear  
Of my enormities; alas! my heart  
Is sick even to the death with them; that part  
Which should be purely kept, is overgrown  
With thousand ills full of corruption:  
And these do oft burst forth to acts as bad  
As they themselves, which makes me almost mad,  
" And quite 
d Psal. 88.15. Sin drives a man (sometimes) out of his wits, as we say.  distracted as it were, that I  
Have not within myself ability  
Whereby I might resist, or overcome  
Those traitorous foes to my Salvation.  
And this is it, alas, that makes me cry  
(With Paul) in deeps of sin, and misery;  

e Rom. 7.24.  Wretch that I am, who shall deliver me  
From this unhappy 
f Body, in the Te●.  mass of death? Sure he  
That is omnipotent, 'tis he alone,  
(My God, and Saviour) besides there's none:  
O then let me be here excused, if I  
(Who feel myself thus in 
g Rom. 7.23.  captivity  
Unto the law of sin) pour forth my prayer  
Unto my God; for why should I despair  
By reason of my sins? Sure these are they  
That chiefly do occasion me to pray  
To be delivered from them; for if I  
Should ne'er be heard whiles in iniquity,  
Why surely I should ne'er be heard, if he  
Do not in mercy take't away from me:  
For in myself I have nor power, nor will,  
At any time to shake away mine ill;  
I mean, without his Grace infused, O then  
Why is't I am not heard, O Lord, or when  
Shall I be heard? Why dost thou linger me,  
That know●st so well my great infirmity,  
And to what deeps I'm like to fall, if thou  
Prevent me not with saving Grace? O now  
Come quickly therefore, quickly come, I pray,  
And raise me up: Let none be able say,  
That ever any sought to thee for aid  
In his extremes, and that he was delayed  
So long of help, till all distractedly  
He was enforced thus to despair and dye:  
Or sure if so, if miserable men  
Should be thus dealt withal by thee, O then  
How is't they should acknowledge thee? and I,  
Alas! how could I other but deny  

Our Conceptions of God.  Thy Deity with them? for surely we  
Cannot conceive of God, unless it be  
As one 
h Exod. 34.6.  that is most merciful, and one  
That knows and sees our griefs, and can alone  
Relieve us in those great extremes; Nay, more,  
That can, and will; for as I said before,  
He is as truly 
i See Eccles. 2.11. Psal. 16.5. & 145.8, 9 Exod. 34.6. the words of God himself.  merciful, as he  
Is truly God: and then how can it be  
That I should either not despair; or thou  
Not quickly come and help? for surely now,  
Now is the very time, I say, wherein  
Because I am so deeply plunged in sin,  
And misery, (so deep, alas, that I  
Am almost ready to despair, and dye)  
It doth behoove thee come and help; nay sure  
And rather too, because I'm so impure  
And sinful as thou seest. Alas, my sin  
May not thus stop thine ears, but rather win  
Thee to compassion on me, 'cause that I  
Am plunged in such deeps of misery,  
By this my tyrannising sin, which strives  
Not only to destroy my soul, but drives  
At there also, seeking to overthrow  
Thy work of Grace, and would not men should know  
The Riches of thy Goodness. O my Lord,  
Why ist thou stayest so long? 
k Mat. 8.8.  speak but the word,  
And all is done, this shackled soul of mine  
(In spite of all those powers that do combine  
To force me down to Hell,) shall quickly fly  
Into so sweet a Heaven of liberty,  
In contemplation of thy Grace, that hence  
I ne'er more shall be brought into suspense,  
Or doubtings of thy goodness; but shall be  
As one that hath his building sure with thee,  
And cannot be removed; and then mine eye  
Shall have its fill of that sweet Theory  
Which erst I did so much desire: whose light  
Will strait dispel these fearful clouds of night,  
Wherein my sins had veiled me up; and yield  
Such pleasing matter, and so large a field  
Of praise to recreate my soul, that I  
Shall hence be raised up so sweetly high,  
As I was sadly low before; and thence  
Shall have so much of selfe-experience,  
To speak of thine abundant love, that I  
Shall nothing else but praise thee till I die.  
O then, my Lord, here let thy mercies come  
And raise me up, lest I be quite undone  
In these so great extremities. Ay me!  
My soul despairs to think where I shall be,  
If that thou yet defer thy help; for lo,  
I'm every minute ready now to go  
Where-ere my sins, and Satan drag, and they  
Will drag me sure to hell. What shall I say,  
Or do, or think? Thou seest my miseries  
far better than myself, and if thine eyes  
Can yet forbear to pity me, Oh then  
Come, come despair, come stifle up my pen,  
And let it weep no more; and cruel death,  
Be thou so kind to stop my tedious breath,  
That I may speak no more of grief: for lo,  
I'm wearied quite, and can no further go:  
And thus thrown down 'twixt hope and fear, I lie  
As one that hopes to live, hut fears to dye.  
But here behold, midst of this dreary storm,  
Wherein my billowing sins, and griefs had borne  
My soul into so many deeps, that I  
Was on the point to sink, despair and dye;  
Behold, I say, when I had quite gi'en o'er  
And even resolved to yield to Satan's Lore,  
Out of my great distractedness, wherein  
I oft was tempted to such deeps of sin,  
Such foul abominable acts, that I  
Dare not to name them to posterity,  
For fear I should offend▪ even than I say,  
(When I was headlong running down the way  
Towards deaths accursed chambers, where I began  
To feel myself the miserable'st man▪  
That ever was on earth, the time when I  
Was plunged in my great'st extremity:)  
I began to feel (O what a joy was this?)  
That longed for Nuntius of my wont bliss  
Begin to repossess my soul, and I  
Was raised up again so sweetly high,  
As scarce I could believe myself▪ to see  
Such wonders wrought so suddenly on me▪  
And here, me thought, with sweet inspired lays,  
He began again my drooping soul to raise  
With these, or such like happy notes; 
l God's return in his extremest misery.  Come, come,  
Thou sad despairing man, lo, I have done  
With thee, I see it is enough: for thou  
Art too-too weak (alas) to strive, and now  
Thou knowst thyself sufficiently, and 
m For it is well.  well  
Thou hast done so, 'twas meet that thou shouldest dwell  
So long on this sad Theme; for mayst thou know  
(In answer to thy quests) this was to show 
Man cannot any way save himself, or rather be saved without God's especial helping Grace.   
Thy weakness to the full, not that myself  
Was ignorant; but thou unhappy Elf,  
Wast hardly brought to search it out. Again,  
To teach thee, that thy lab'rings all were vain,  
Without my special helping-Grace; for thou  
Mightst labour till thy death, yet be (as now)  
So far to seek as e'er thou wast: and hence  
This master thou learn for thy experience,  

n Against the merits of works.  That Heaven can ne'er be won with works, although  
These be the 
o According to that: Bona opera sun● via ad Regnum, sed non causa regnandi.  way indeed by which ye go  
Thereto, and these as signs of Grace, do 
p Good works show our true faith, as jam. 2.18.  show  
That ye assuredly do thither go  
If they be good; but all their good consists  
Alone in 
q Ephes. 2.8, 9, 10. not able to this purpose.  Grace, from whence their being is.  
But now, poor soul, that thou hast stayed so long  
In these thy deeps, and thence conceau'st a wrong  
That's done to thee, in that I should delay  
To grant thy suit, though thou didst often pray,  
And yearn indeed for Grace, even till thine eye  
And heart with tears, and sighs were both worn dry:  
And thou mean while most so oppressed with sin,  
With fears without, with trembling storms within,  
That thou couldst never be at rest: nay more,  
The tedious sufferings of thy sin-borne sore  
Had so bedulled thy soul that faithlesly  
Thou here hadst yielded to despair, and die.  
Know this, I say, for answer; 'twas my will  
It should be so, (who gather good from ill:)  
First therefore know in all these dreary deeps,  
Mine eye was open on thee (which never 
r Psal. 121.4. God's admirable providence over his children in all extremities of their temptations.  sleeps)  
To keep thee safe, and my wise providence  
Ne'er suffered yet sins heinous violence  
To have its full Career on thee, although  
I suffered it indeed thus far to go,  
To make thy very heart to bleed, to see  
Those fearful wounds it did inflict on thee,  
When I but left thee to thyself: 
s Why God sometimes leaves his children.  yet hence  
I taught thy soul this sweet experience,  
To make thy soon appeal to me, when sin  
Had made thee see the danger thou wast in.  

My fearful Objection against myself.  But further yet, here haply thou'lt reply;  
Alas, this answer will not satisfy;  
Sin hath its full career on me; for lo,  
It 
* Rom. 7.23.  draws me on even whenever I will or no,  
To give consent to it; even so that I  
Am ready to enact what villainy  
So ere the flesh invites; but that perchance  
I'm hindered by some outward circumstance  
Of fear, or shame of men: but woe is me!  
I do not feel, alas, that fear of thee  
I would within my heart, whence 'tis that I  
Am ready here to sink, despair, and die  
For want of it: and then how can it be  
That sin can fuller yet career on me!  

God's answer.  Alas! poor foul, 'tis true indeed, I know  
Thy sins have brought thy feeble man so low,  
That thou art helpless of thyself; yea sure  
Vassaled to Satan, and couldst ne'er endure  
The least of these his heavy brunts, if I  

Our salvation is wholly out of ourselves from God alone.  Had not sustained thee by a sweet supply  
Of secret Grace, but headlong wouldst have run  
Down to thine own destruction (wretched man!)  
Save that I would not suffer thee; and hence  
It is that thou hast had this happy sense  
Of these thine own infirmities, whence thou  

t 2. Cor. 1.9.  Despairing in thyself as 'twere, didst vow  
Never to take thy rest, till thou hadst won  
This sweet assurance that thou art my son.  
O happy soul! blessed be that day, and hour  
Wherein thou chos'st so good a part, to tower  
So high in thy desires, as to depise  
Those gay allurements, which the worldly wi●e  
So greedily pursue; as wealth, delights  
And honours (all esteemed in their 
u 1 Cor. 2.14.  blind sights  
As Deities;) And didst more wisely crave  
(What they indeed thought 
x 1. C●r. 2.14.  foolishness to 〈◊〉,)  
To be entitled one of mine, to be  
My 
y joh. 1.12. Rom. 8.16, 17 Ephes. 2.19.  son by Grace, a heavenly high degree,  
Which 
z Mat. 16.17.  flesh and blood can ne'er conceive: and hence  
It is, that they led only by the sense;  
Can ne'er attain unto't: nor thy weak eye,  
Poor soul, can ere be able reach so high,  
Do what thou canst, unless my 
a Eph. 1 17, 8  lightning Grace  

b 1. Cor. 2.10, 12.  Reveal it thee: for 'tis nor 
c Acts 8.20. 1. Cor. 1.26.  wealth, nor place,  
Nor labour that can work it out; but I  
Alone must 
d joh. 1.2. Ephes. 2 8.  give't of my benignity.  
Now what is this great gift? Why sure it is  
The very Treasury of perfect bliss:  
And hence, dear soul, be not a whit dismayed  
To pass those many deeps, my Gracious aid  
Shall still be with thee; go, and prosper on,  
'Tis worth thy sufferings to be called my Son.  
Thou seekest no mean preferment; know, one ask  
Is not enough; no, 'tis a weightier task, 
How hard it is to go to heaven: according to that of Seneca in Traged. viz. Non est ad astra mollis è terris via. English: We must not go to heaven on featherbeds. How short our common meerely-beliefe comes short of heaven.   
And craves thy longest pains; so hard an Art  
For flesh and blood to learn that 'twould dis-hart  
The wisest of you all, did he but know  
The many plunges he must undergo,  
Before he can attain this height. Alas!  
'Tis not a common, I believe, will pass  
Thereto (only, for fashion's sake:) No, no,  
There is an inward feeling-faith must go  
With every word thou speakest; and this proceeds  
From my sole purer 
e 1. Cor. 2.12. james 1.17.  Spirit, which only feeds  
Those truly 
f Esay 57.15.  contrite souls, whose happier eyes  
Have seen the deeps of their own miseries,  
As thou, poor humbled soul hast done, whereby  
thou'rt made a subject fit for mercy's eye  
To work upon and pity. Now's the time  
Indeed to comfort thee, 
g Esay 63.5.  when powers divine  
Alone can help, and nothing else beside  
Can come so near in this so deep a tide,  
As do thee but least show of good, unless  
It be to drown thee quite in thy distress,  
And headlong send thee down to Hell; Then co●e,  
Come, my dear soul, or rather my dear son,  
For so thou shalt be called hence; arise,  
Shake off thy quondam sins and miseries,  
For I thy God will have it so: and now  
Come on with me, where I will show thee how  
Thou shalt obtain thy full desires: but know,  
There's one thing yet, before thou further go,  
Which must be done; and though thou think it hard,  
Yet never faint, it must, or all is marred:  
Thou needs must use all means hereto; but here  
I know, thou'lt say, Alas, I cannot bear  
This heavy yoke. Go too, I know full well  
What thou canst do: Nothing, but go to hell,  
Without my saving Grace; but know with this,  
Thou shalt use all those mediums of thy bliss  
With wondrous 
h Mat 11. ult.  ease; and this my yoke shall be  
More pleasing far, then world's best joy to thee:  
For I myself will be thy 
i Psal. 18.1, 2. God's charge which every Child of his must perform; yet so, as by power from God.  strength, in whom  
Thou shalt perform what ere I will, and none  
Thy foes shall dare resist; or if they do,  
Thou shalt both fight with them, and conquer too,  
To thine abundant hearts content. Now than  
This is the task which thou must do, (to men  
I know, full harsh:) which is still to repress  
The swelling pride of thy rebellious flesh,  
To 
k Gal. 5.24.  crucify thy man of sin, to die  
Daily with 
l 1. Cor. 15.31. Sin must be cast out, ere God take possession of us.  Paul, to give to vanity  
A resolute farewell, and part withal  
That erst occasioned thee so great a fall;  
I mean, thine own innative lusts: for they  
Indeed are those that caused thy soul to stay  
So long in these unhappy deeps: but now  
Thou needs must turn another leaf, and vow  
Perpetual war against them all, yea, though  
It be against thy very self (in show:)  
I mean against thy outward man, thy flesh,  
That Stews of ill, that Cage of filthiness,  
Which needs must be pulled down, and purged of sin,  
Or my pure Spirit will never enter in,  
To fill it full of joy: no, no, my Grace  
Cannot abide the house, till these give place:  
Out then, you devilish lusts, go quickly fly  
Into some 
m Mat. 8.32. Let the swinish Epicure wallow in his lusts, but let the bodies of God's children be consecrated to holiness, Rom. 6.22. as pure Temples of ●he holy Ghost, 1. Cor. 6.19.  Swinish Herd, my Deity  
Commands your hastening flight, you must not stay  
To make it night, where I will have it day.  
And thou, dead heart, I charge thee vomit up  
The poisonous drugs of that deceitful cup  
Which erst thy flesh did give thee, and whereby  
Sh'ath brought thee to so deep a Lethargy,  
That thou hast quite forgot thyself, yea, me,  
Who erst have done such wondrous things for thee.  
And you 
n The eyes described in brief. Their charge.  corrupted Tradesmen of the mind,  
You wanton eyes, you leaders of the blind;  
I charge you hence be pure, ne'er wander more  
To gaze on vanities, play not the 
o Num. 15. 3●  whore  
With every idle object that you see,  
Which cannot satisfy: but look on me  
By often reading of my Word, and by  
Perusing me in that sweet Theory  
Of my most beauteous 
p Psal. 8.3. & 19.1, 2, etc.  Works, where you shall see  
That nought indeed is worth your eyes but me.  
And you corrupted 
q The ears charge.  Listeners too, you Ears,  
(Whose hollow intricate Meander bears  
Each sound unto the soul) wh''re always apt  
To open your doors to ill, but closely clapped  
To every thing that's good; I charge you too,  
That hence you sanctify yourselves, and do  
Nought but my will; which is to entertain  
All messengers of good, but to refrain  
From harkening unto any ill, whereby  
Thou mayst conceive one thought of vanity.  
Yea, Mouth, 
The mouths charge.  and all which have your several parts  
To act in this great mystery of Arts;  
I charge you all, be pure; 
r Eph. 4.29.  let not a word  
Be spoke of thee, but that which doth afford  
Matter of praise to me; whence all may know,  
The 
s Mat. 12.34.35, 36, 37.  Fount is pure from whence these waters flow.  
Besides, 
t Eccles. 37.29. A Caution for too-much, or dainty feeding.  accustom not thyself to eat  
Of overmuch, or too delicious meat,  
Whereby to pamper up thy flesh; for these,  
Although they seem bewitchingly to please  
Thy all-corrupted man of sin, and feed  
Thy sense with seeming pleasures, yet indeed  
If thou but duly think on them, they be  
The chief maintainers of that misery  
Which thou so fearfully hast felt; for they  
Are always stirring up those foes that sway  
So domineeringly o'er thee, thy sin  
And raging lusts, which fight so sore within  
Against thy soul, against thy drooping Spirit,  
And these are they that cause this gloomy night  

u Too much eating brings bo●h body and soul into a Lethargy.  Of drowsy carelessness in thee: yea, these  
Would lull thee fain along in thy disease,  
As one that's in a sleep to hell, where thou  
Shouldst be imprisoned fast ere knowing how:  
Wherefore I charge thee specially from hence  
Forbear these luring baits which feed the sense,  
But famish up the soul: forbear, I say,  
And hence inure thyself to fast and pray,  

A persuasion to fasting and prayer.  The readiest means whence to 
x Mat. 17.21.  cast forth this kind  
Of devilish thoughts that so disturb the mind.  
This being duly done, 'tis now high time  
I send my sanctifying power divine  
To purge thine inward faculties, thy soul  
And her attendants, made so lately foul  
By thine own sins, and thence to drive away  
Those 
y Alluding to that of Mat. 21.12. Luk. 19.45.  thievish lusts there gotten in to prey  
Upon thy purer parts: for thou must be  
A 
z 1. Cor. 6.19. God's charge to the soul and her faculties.  Temple wholly consecrate to me  
In holiness. Wherefore I charge you all  
(As subjects to my Power Imperial)  
Thou 
a The soul. Gen. 2.7.  Breath of life, you understanding parts,  
And thou Invention, searcher out of Arts:  
And Memory, so aged in thy youth,  
The Register of ancient times, and truth:  
And judgement, thou (great Umpire of the ●est)  
Which always fi●st to censure what is best;  
I charge you strictly all, I say, 
b Mat. 8.3.  and will  
That you be clean: keep not one thought of ill  
Within your sacred Chancels; but 
c 1. joh. 3.3.  be pure  
Even as I am: and hence yourselves inure  
To nought but holy practices, that so  
Thy soul and sense may both together go,  
As two made one, and all to sing my praise  
In sweetest Concord's to ensuing days.  
This being also done, I say, Come now  
And prosper on; here will I show thee how  
Thou shalt obtain thy wished rest, and fly  
So far beyond thine own ability,  
As thou wilt wonder at thyself, to see  
That height of happiness thou hast in me,  
Beyond conceit or utterance. Come then  
My dearest, come; here will I make thy Pen  
To speak of mysteries; here I'll begin  
To put a period to thy days of sin:  
Here will I 
d Esay 25.8. Reuel. 21.4.  wipe away thy tears, and lead  
Thee forth with David, where thy soul shall tread  
In 
e Psal. 23.3.  paths of righteousness, till thou hast won  
This sweet assurance that thou art my son.  
Here then return, return, thou thirsty soul,  
To my pure 
f Esay 55.1▪ ●  Spring, since all the rest are foul,  
And cannot satisfy. Here turn again  
(Where 
g joh. 5.39. as in my first Book, pag. 8.  first thou didst begin) unto the main  
Of my sole-saving comforts, to my Word;  
I mean, that 
h joh. 4.14.  Well indeed which doth afford  
True Cordials to distressed souls. Come here,  
And take thy fill, thou needest not to fear▪  
Of paying aught, take 
i Esay 55.1.  wine and milk, and buy  
Without a piece, my freely bounteous eye  
Looks not for thy rewards; or if it did,  
Alas, poor soul, thou hast not aught to bid  
To countervail my Grace: for sure from thee  
Comes nothing good, but what thou hast from me.  
Go then, I say, go hasten to that Well  
And Spring of life, whose virtue shall expel  
These sad suspenses from thy heart, and shall  
Instruct thee in the truth, and tell thee all  
That thou so much desir'st, only indeed  
Thou must believe what e'er thy soul shall read  
Within this sacred Writ: for sure in this  
Lies hid the treasury of 
k joh. 5.39.  life, of bliss,  
Which only true 
l joh. 6.35, 47 Objection.  believers find. But here  
I know thou'lt say, Why then 'tis ne'er the near,  
If this condition come between, for I  
Am grown so dead in sin and misery,  
I cannot stir one foot to good; and whence  
Should I believe so far beyond my sense,  
That which I cannot comprehend? Ay me!  
Feign I'd believe indeed that true to be,  
Whose truth so much concerns my good: but, O  
I see no ground, alas, I should do so.  
Here stands my misery; my flesh, and blood  
Think sure that news must needs be too-too good  
Ere to be true, as usual Proverbs say,  
That brings me tidings of that happy day,  
Which puts a period to mine ills; for I  
Am so bedulled with tedious misery,  
That now 'tis grown a miracle to see  
Some powers prove yet so kind to comfort me.  

God resolves this scruple.  Alas, poor soul! 'tis true indeed, and yet  
Here stay thy plaints, for here thou must forget  
Thine 
m Psal. 45.10  own estate: these are thy miseries  
Indeed as of thyself, but now thine eyes  
Must soar beyond thyself, where thou shalt see  
Thy happiness consisting all in me,  
Not in thine own abilities: and this  
Is it while-ere I said to thee, which is  
Indeed a 
n Col. 1.26.  mystery that 
o Mat 26.17.  flesh and blood  
Cannot conceive, that must be understood  
Only by my 
p Ephes. 1.17 18.  revealing Spirit. And now  
Come on therefore, I know full well that thou  
Canst nothing do herein, unless it be  
As having thine abilities from me.  
But know, in me thou shalt do all (as I  
Erewhile did say.) Thus do I magnify  
Myself in 
q Esay 40.29, 30, 31. 2. Cor. 12.9.  weakness, thus my power shall be  
Made known the more by thine infirmity.  
On then, I say, go hasten to that Brook  
Which runs so sweetly through my sacred Book,  
Where I will surely be with thee, to lead  
Thee on along, till thou hast found that Head  
And Spring of life where thou wouldst be; and when  
Thy so●le hath bathed therein a while, even than  
I will begin to make thee see and know  
Thy boundless happiness in me, and show  
Thee all the treasures of my love, whereby  
Thou shalt perceive th' inseparable tye  
Betwixt thyself and me. Then shalt thou read  
And understand, then come and go with speed  
About my work, and prosper still, and then  
Scorning as 'twere, those vanities of men,  
Which erst so much ore-swayed thee, thou shalt be  
Possessed with nothing but delight in me.  
Then all shall be at thy content, when thou  
Shalt only ask and have; the heavens shall bow,  
If thou but pray, and I myself descend  
To answer thee as thy familiar friend.  
Go then, I say, 'tis time thou were't well on  
In this thy way. See how the vsh'ring 
r Mal. 4.2.  Sun  
Invites thy haste, the 
s Reuel. 22.17.  Spirit says, Come away  
To celebrate this high-made Marriage-day:  
For lo, the Lamb is ready, come and see  
How much he 
t john 15.13.  loved that lost his life for thee.  
And where thou sayst, Alas, thou hast not power  
Whence to believe, know 'twas an happy hour  
For thee that ere thou knewest so much, for I  
Ne'er use to heal the 
u joh. 9.39, 41.  Pharisaical eye  
Which thinks he sees, and yet is blind: but know  
Since I have gi'en thee grace to stoop so low,  
As to attribute all to me, that now  
Thou shalt both see, and eke believe: for thou  
Hast put thy trust in me, and since thou hast,  

x Mat. 15.28.  Be 't to thee as thou wilt, thy worst is past:  
And hence know, thou hast overcome in m●,  
Who am alone thy strength, and still will be.  
Wherhfore I will, that here thou quickly go,  
And do as I have said: 
y Ps. 33.11. Pro. 19.21. Esay 46. ●0.  it must be so;  
Use thou no more thy weak replies; for I  
Will have it so, what powers shall dare deny  
Where I command? Go on, I say, and then,  
This being done, prepare thy tongue and pen,  
And all thou hast, to sing of nought but praise  
To me thy God: and let thy high-born Lays  
Ravish thy hearers all to heaven, whiles they  
Attend to thee; whence they may bless the day  
Of these thy happy miseries, and be  
As joint-competitors of joy with thee.  
What now remains? Behold, thy longed for day  
Is hard at hand; I will no longer stay  
Thy forward thoughts: Go, go, and take thy fill  
Of Zion's stream; let not a thought of ill  
Dare interrupt thy good intents, but be  
As happy as thy wish: hence shalt thou see  
The mirrors of my love; and know ere long,  
I shall expect thy Muse to change her song.  
Thus I surcease. Now let thy newborn heart  
Succeed, and act its last and happiest part.  

My reviuall and last action.  This being said, behold, my deadened soul  
Began revive, the spirit that was so foul,  
(That 
z 2. Cor. 12.7  Messenger of hell, which often brought  
Me down into such desperate deeps) me thought,  
Did leave me by degrees, and all gave place  
To entertain a sweet succeeding Grace,  
Which seized upon mine inward parts, whereby  
I began to feel a secret new supply  
Of an vncustomed strength, and now again  
Me thought I had a power whence to refrain  
From swallowing Satan's luring baits, which he  
Did use erewhile thus in bewitching me.  
And here me thought, by secret sweet degrees  
Myself got ground, and Satan began to lose  
By sweet assistance from my God; for he  
Indeed did work these miracles in me,  
(O how I wish to thank him for't) and I  
Began to feel a happy liberty  
From that most loathsome slavery, wherein  
I was enshackled erst so fast in sin:  
My storms blew over, and this my troubled Man  
Seemed to be somewhat calmed, the clouds began  
To fleet away, and an unwonted light  
Fills up the place of former gloomy light;  
Whereby mine eyes began to wake, and I  
Began call unto my drowsy memory  
Those happy notes I heard of late, from whence  
I felt these holy change in my sense  
As well as in mine inward soul; and here,  
With awful reverence, and submissive fear  
In thus repealed unto my God: Great JOVE, 
My re-appeale to God.   
Thou sole Commander of the powers above  
And these below; who only with thy 
a Psal. 33.6, 9  word  
Dost whatsoever thou wilt; lo here, my Lord,  
I am thy servant, son of thine handmaid  
Be't done unto me all as thou hast said:  
I humbly here submit myself to be  
Obedient to thy will, to give to thee  
All glory due unto this work; for I  
Desire herein no greater dignity,  
Then to be made thine instrument, by whom  
Thou'st pleased to show thy great salvation  
To me, and all the rest of thine, which be  
Implunged in deeps of grief as well as me.  
Here then, great Lord, 
How to proceed in ●he apprehension of salvation.  in humble confidence  
Of thy sole promised aid, as having sense  
Of these mine own infirmities, whereby  
My wings are clipped with 
b 2. Cor. 12.5, 6.7.  Paul, from soaring high  
On selfe-presumptious perfectness; lo, here  
I do proceed in humbled faith and fear,  
Crying aloud to thee with tears of grief,  

c Mark. 9.24.  Lord, I believe, O help mine unbelief.  
Thus going on from Moses sacred Law,  
Wherein erewhile with weeping heart I saw  
Mine own defects and miseries; and now  
Perching aloft to 
d Esay 11.1.  Esay's happier bow  
Which sprang from out of jesses' root, I began  
To see 
e Esay 40.2.  salvation preached to sinful man  
By God himself, his holy Crier calls,  

f Esay 40.3, 4  Prepare the way, the former humbled vales  
Shall be exalted; but the towering hill  
Shall be thrown down as low; for lo, he will  

g Esay 40.5.  Reveal his glory forth, all flesh shall see  
The wondrous light of his benignity;  
Himself hath spoken it. And here mine eye  
Began see some glimm'rings of that mystery,  
Which I so much desired: but going on  
Those pleasing highways of Salvation,  
To find more sweet assurances, I passed  
The Prophets all, by whose good help at last  
I came unto 
h That is, to the Gospel, or New Testament. Hebr. 12.22.  Mount Sion-hill, where I  
Began see my Saviour with a clearer eye  
Then e'er I did before: this was the place,  
Wherein I found that 
i jer. 31.31. Ezek. 37 26. See Hebr. 8.8, 11, 24.  covenant of Grace,  
Which erst the Prophets pointed at: the Well  
And Spring of life, where all true comforts dwell  
To every sad wearied heart, that lies  

k Matth. 11.28.  O'er laden with his heavy sins, and cries  
With 
l Esay 55.1, 2.  thirsty Soul for ease. Here did I find  
Those sweet reviuals to my drooping mind,  
Which 
m Mat. 16.17  flesh and blood cannot conceive; I mean,  
Within the Story of that happy Scene,  
Which God himself came down to act, when he  
Out of that boundless love he bore to me,  
And all the rest of his, took 
n joh. 1.14. Phil. 2.7, 8.  flesh on him,  
To bear those punishments, which we by sin  
Were subject to, but could not bear, unless  
With everlasting loss of happiness,  
And durance of expressless pain: which he  
Alone of 
o Esay 63.9.  love did undergo, that we  
Might have our freedom all in him. But here,  
Being much desirous yet to come more near,  
And pry into this sacred Fount, wherein  
I might wash off my leprosy of sin,  
And be made fully whole; at length I came  

The manner of our Saviour's Birth  To Matthew's holy Writ, marked with the Name  
Of 
p Mat. 1.1.  Iesu● in the Frontispiece, where I  
Did quickly find his strange 
q Mat. 1 18.  nativity,  
As 
r Esay 7 14. & 1ST & 48.6, 7. & 49.9. & 61.1, etc.  was foretold: for this indeed was he,  
That should be borne of that pure Virgin tree.  
Which sprang from Iesse's holy Root, yea'uen he  
That was to open the blinded eyes, to free  
Us that were prisoners fast to sin, to preach  

s Luk 4.18, 19 re●o●red to Esay 61.1, 2, etc.  Good tidings to the meek in heart, to reach  
His comforts out to those that mourn; whose Name  
Was to be called 
t Esay 9 6.  Wonderful, the same  
With God himself; which was 
u Matth. 1.21  ordained to save  
The people for their sins. Thus far I have  
Gone on with 
x sc. Matthew●  him, but going sweetly on,  
As I began, behold, I see anon,  
The 
y Mat. 2.1, 1●  Wisemen coming from the East, and they  
Being guided by his star, were come to pay  
Their duties to this God made man, to see  
And worship him; for so it 
z Ps. 72.10, 11 A prayer by the way.  ought to be.  
O thou my God, send here thy lightning Spirit  
To be my star also, to guide me right,  
That I may find my Saviour too, and then  
Though not with th'offerings of those wiser men,  
(For lo, I am unwise, alas, and poor)  
Yet may I truly worship him with more,  
Then e'er they did; with heart, with soul and all  
That now I have, or ever after shall.  
Thus passing on, at length my thoughts were brought  
To holy Luke, (for Mark indeed had nought  
Of this his birth:) where when I entered in,  
I saw the 
a Luke 1.31.  Angel speak again of him,  
As erst in Matthew's sacred Writ: but here  
I went not far, 
A notable change in Christ's estate.  before there did appear  
A wondrous change: this Heau'n-borne Majesty,  
Whom erst the Magis came to gratify  
With these their best adoring gifts (with 
b Mat. 2.11.  Gold,  
With Frankincense and Myrrh, which plainly told  
How great a King, a Priest and Prince he was,  
Whom they adored;) I say, it came to pass,  
This Majesty so great, being now 
c Phil. 2.7.  disgraced,  
As 'twere, with Rags of humane flesh, lay placed  
In an unseemly manger; for the Inn  
Was haply stuffed so full with guests of sin,  
There was no room for this great Lord, but he  
Must seek a Stable for his high degree,  
Being thought the 
d Esay 53.2, 3  very scorn of men: but sure  
'Twas not without a 
e Psal. 22.6.  Prophecy, so pure  
And innocent a soul should be thus left  
Both in contempt and misery, bereft  
Of world's best seeming-comforts. But behold,  
When earth, and cruel men were grown so cold  
In charity, the Heavens themselves proclaim  
His wondrous worth: for 
f Luk. 2.9, 13  lo, a glorious Train  
Of that celestial Choir were come to bring  
This happy Tidings to the world, to sing  
His high nativity in their high-layes,  
Where every Period echoed nought but praise,  
And 
g Luk. 2.14.  glory to our God on high, on earth  
Peace, and good will towards men; all from his birth  
Issuing as from one only fount: but here  
I could not but admire with holy fear,  
That such a gracious light should shine, yet man  
Would turn away his eyes, and rather ran  
To follow shades of vanity, which be  
Indeed but a mere weariness, and flee  
Away as soon as overtook, wherein  
Lies nothing hid but misery, and sin,  
The Parents of eternal death. But here  
Sending my thoughts from Luke, to john; lo, there  
I quickly found the reason out: this 
h joh. 1.5.  Light  
Did shine indeed, but man's all-darkned sight  
Had not the power to comprehend what here  
Was offered him, till he himself appear  
(I mean this Light) and 
i joh ●. 1●, 13  give it him: for he  
Must not be borne of flesh, or blood; but be  
New borne of God; and 
k joh. 6.44. Man cannot apprehend Christ of himself.  drawn as 'twere by him  
To see, and come to Christ. 'Tis not within  
Man's own ability; Oh no, I see  
It is my God works all this all in me.  
Thus having found his happy birth, I mean,  
Happy to us 
* sc. True believers.  spectators of this scene,  
Though not to him that acted it; I now  

The Story of our Saviour's life.  Begin trace his holy life, for here I vow,  
If he but please to give me aid and 
* For life.  breath,  
I'll follow him a long even to the death.  
And thus returning back to Matthew, Mark,  
And Luke; thence to my John (somewhat more dark,  
Though being 
l His subject is of Christ the true light.  full of light) I here did see  
The Prologue was begun in misery,  
As erst I've said, the Acts that went between,  
Were not less grievous: who, had he but seen  
His 
m Mat. 4.1, 2, 3, etc.  conflicts in the wilderness, when he  
Was tempted of that grandest enemy  
To him and us; who is't again that saw  
Those wordy-warres he had 
n Mat. 12. & 15.  about the Law  
With th'envious Scribes and pharisees, when they  
Laid all their wicked plots how to betray  
His innocence to death; but he would bleed  
In heart to think on such a horrid deed?  
For he, good Man, did never harm; nay sure  
He was so far from this, so godly pure,  
That he was good to all his very foes,  
Had never better friend than him, yea'uen those  
That 
o Luk. 23.34.  sought to take away his life; yet he  
Was patient still. But would you farther see  
His wondrous works of mercy, how he heals  
The 
p Read Mat. 9  sick, the blind, the lame, to some reveals  
His power, by raising them from death, to some,  
By casting devils forth: yet when all's done,  
Much like the thankless 
q Or, Girgesens. Mat. 8.34. Luk. 8.26, 37  Gadarens, they fain  
Would have him leave their coasts, 'twas not their gain,  
They thought, to lose their swinish sins; No, no,  
They'll rather part by far with Christ then so.  
Thus did he wander up and down, good man,  
Having not 
r Luk. 9.58.  where to lay his head; and can  
We tearless yet stand looking on? Sure no;  
Or if there be a 
s One of a stony heart.  stone that can do so;  
My bowels yearn, I must confess, when I  
But think on this; nay more, my griefe-worne eye  
Doth either overflow, or longs to be  
Made 
t jer. 9.1.  Jer'mies weeping Well, when I but see  
My Saviour thus, 
u joh. 1.11.  he comes unto his 
x sc. his own Countrymen.  own,  
But they receive him not; nay worse, are grown  

y Mat. 13.57.  Offended with him. Thus he goes about  
Meeting with still increasing-griefes throughout  
The course of all his life; yet in this case  
He ceases not his work, but shows his Grace  
To many a sad and sinful soul: for he  
Was 
z For a Physician.  Physic unto all that did but see,  
Themselves were 
a Mat 9 12.  sick, and needed him: but those  
That stood on their own righteousness (his foes,  
The Scribes and pharisees, who thought indeed  
(
b Or, Just as, etc.  Much like the Papists now) they had no need  
Of Christ's all-saving help, but did presume  
To fly to Heaven with that deceitful plume  
Of their own works;) he justly leaves to be  
Condemned in this their gracelessness, to see  
The fruits of their own froward pride, when they▪  
Will go to Heaven, yet scorning 
* joh. 10.1, 7. & 14.6. Heb. 10.20.  Christ the way,  
But to leave them, I here return again  
Unto my Christ, whom I have seen in pain,  
Thus far to travel with the load which he  
Did take on him, only to set us free.  
Now for his usual 
c joh. 4.32, 34.  meat, this was indeed  
To do his Father's will, to go with speed,  
And finish what he came about, not fed  
With fullness or variety of 
d Bread for all other kinds of meat.  bread,  
As we unhappy 
e For too-much fullness makes us lumpish, and indisposed to any good performances.  lumps; but was 
f 2. Cor. 11.27 and read joh. 4.6. Christ the perfect pattern of humility.  with Paul  
In fastings oft, in weariness, in all  
Which might express his misery, so far  
‛ Yond all the Sons of Adam, as they are  
Inferior in integrity to him,  
Who never harboured the least thought of sin;  
Which well might add unto his griefs, yet he  
Was patient still; O hearers, come, and see  
Wirh rent hearts, here is a woeful scene  
Continued on: thus, thus did he demean  
Himself in every Act, and thus was he  
That perfect pattern of humility:  
But, O my soul! these are the acts between,  
And sad enough; but O there lies unseen  
The very woe of all the rest; his death,  

The manner of our Saviour's Passion and death.  And passion, this that takes away my breath  
With too fast running doubled sighs, that I  
Shall ne'er be able speak sufficiently  
As I desire, or as I ought, beside  
I'm dulled with former griefs, my fount is dried,  
I have not tears enough to spend, whereby  
I might re-act this woeful Tragedy  
In wotds, that nothing else but weep: yet here  
I must supply something of what while're  
(At first) I never thought to speak, when I  
Began this work; for there in brevity,  
I scarcely spoke, save of his death: but now  
My soul hath undergone a larger vow  
(Being led by that all-ruling Spirit) which here  
I must perform. And thus with wont fear,  
I entered on the Epilogue, where I  
Began first observe that wondrous Agony,  
My Saviour in the 
g joh. 18.1. Luk. 22. 3●, 44.  Garden had, when he  
Did pray so earnestly; Lord, if it be  
Thy sacred will, then let this fearful cup  
Yet pass away, and I not drink it up.  
This fearful cup: Good God, what hideous draught  
Was this, at which thou that wast so well taught  
In bearing miseries, didst yet entreat  
A escape from it! Sure, sure, that fear was great,  
That made thy soul to shrink, who couldst bear more  
Than all the world beside: O then wherefore  
Didst thou yet fear my Lord? Alas, 
What caused Christ's fear in his agony.  thy Spirit  
Thus answers me, 'Twas at th' amazing sight  
Of mine, and every sinners sins, which now  
Were 
h Esay 53.6.  laid upon thy back; because that thou  
Wouldst undergo so much for us, to be  
A 
i Verse 10.  Sacrifice for these our sins, that we  
Might be disburdened quite of them, and so  
Be 
k Gal. 3.13.  freed from that accursed weight of woe  
Which followed them; so great, so infinite,  
That neither tongue can speak, nor pen can write:  
And yet thy love was grown so 
l Cant. 8.6.  strong, that thou  
Didst bear them all for us. Hence was it now  
Thy present plunges were so great▪ and hence  
It was thou feltst such terrors in the sense  
Of thy humanity, that made thee call  
Thy Deity to help; hence was 
m Luk. 22 44.  the fall  
Of those great drops of blood, which thou didst sweat  
In this thy fearful Agony; and yet  
Do I ask why thou didst entreat? Ay me!  
Some little glimpse of this mine eyes began see  
Within mine own distressed man, when I  
Pressed with the weight of mine iniquity,  
Did erst implore my God to help: for sure,  
Of all the miseries I may endure,  
There's none that parallels with this, to be  
Depriu●d of God, which to my grief I see  
My many sins do oft ●ffect, whereby  
I'm driven to such great extremity,  
I know not what to do, which makes me crave  
Either his sweet return, or else my grave,  
Rather than live, and not with him, but here,  
Alas, unhappy wretch! all that I bear,  
Is justly for my sin, but thou my Lord,  
Didst 
n 1. Pet. 2.22.  never sin, neither in deed, nor word,  
No, nor in thought so much▪ or were it so,  
Yet what speak I of these my deeps of woe,  
Which be but fleabites, as they say, if weighed  
With these of thine? for thou, alas, wast laid  
Down in the lowest hell of grief, to bear  
All pains and punishments beyond compare,  
Which we, poor souls, should else have borne, Ay me.  
Yet this not all, those that should comfort thee  
In these thy great extremities, yea'uen they  
Did 
o Mat. 26.40.  sleep it out as we do now a day,  
Seeming as senseless of thy griefs, nor would  
Be brought to watch and pray one hour: so cold  
Are our affections grown towards thee, though thou  
Do burn in love towards us. But whither now?  
Where strays my Muse, I say? Is not this all?  
Oh no; 
p Psal. 42.7. in our singing Psalms.  One grief another in doth call:  
These plunges were no sooner passed, but lo,  
I see the Nuntius of another woe,  

q Luk. 22.47.  Judas, and all his following rout, for they  
Are hard at hand, and ready to betray  
This guiltless Lamb unto the Wolves: but here  
'tis worth the notice ere we yet draw near  
To 
r The High Priest. joh. 18.13. Luk. 3.2.  Anna's house, how that our Saviour, when  

s joh. 18.4.  Knowing the hearts of these malicious men,  
He boldly yet steps forth to them, and said,  
Who is't ye seek? Which when they had betrayed  
By naming him, he answers, 
t Vers. 6.  I AM ●EE;  
At which they starting back full suddenly  
Fell down unto the ground. Here was a word  
That plainly told indeed, HE was the Lord,  
Whom they did now resist: but, O my soul!  
Couldst thou, my Lord, so suddenly control  
Those their presuming with a word, and yet  
How was't thou seem'st so quickly to forget  
Thyself by suffering them alone, to show  
Their cruelties on thee? nay, which was more,  
Thou didst restrain thy 
u joh. 18.11.  Peter too, when he  
Drew forth his sword and would huae rescue thee:  
But O, how doth my reason err? for here  
The 
x Esay 53.10 Mat. 26.54.  Scriptures were to be fulfilled while-ere  
Which spoke of thee; whence 'twas thou didst reply  
To Peter with undaunted constancy,  

y joh. 18.11.  The cup my Father gives, shall I not drink?  
Oh yes, I must and will; or may you think  
'T will go but bad with you, for should I not,  
Yourselves must do't. Thus as he had forgot  
What he indeed was of himself, he goes  
Along with them, even these his cruel foes,  
Without least show of murmuring, until  
At length they had accomplished all their ill  
Concerning him. And first they brought him on  
To 
* Vers. 13.  Annas, next, to his malicious son  

z Caiphas and Annas were the High Priests that time: See Luk. 3.2.  Caiphas (the then High Priest:) where harmless he  
Was most unjustly 
a joh 18.22.  smitten: next, we see  
Him led to pilate's judgement Hall, where when  
They had not aught T'accuse him of, yet then  
With most corrupted hearts they rather sought  
To free their 
b Vers. 40.  Barrabas, though he had wrought  
Much wickedness with them. Thus did they bring  
Our Saviour forth, yea'uen him that was the King  
Of Heaven, and Earth, placing upon his head  
A Crown of cruel thorns; thus was he led  
With scourge, scoffings and with all disgrace  
That malice could invent on to the place  
Where he was to be crucified: yet here  
(Wondrous to speak) he did not once appear  
So much as to repine, but went along  
Much like a Lamb, ne'er muttering out the wrong  
They did to him. And thus the Scriptures ought  
To be fulfilled; thus was he to be brought  
Unto the slaughter, 
c Esay. 53.7.  as our Esay said,  
Yet opening not his mouth; on whom were laid  
The iniquities of all; and thus indeed  
He was that true unblemished 
d Levit. 6.6. See joh. 1.29.  Lamb we need  
To be our sacrifice for sin. But here,  
O stay, my soul, and though thou want a tear  
To weep at this sad sight, yet let it be  
Thy wish to imitate what thou dost see;  
I mean, thy Sauiour● patient steps: for lo,  
Here's patience fit for all the Saints to know;  
Yea know, and imitate: but I forbear,  
And turn unto my Christ again even where  
I left him going on but, O my heart!  

A check to my heart for not weeping at this passage.  Whence is't thou look'st on this most tragic part,  
And yet not burst thyself to tears? Alas,  
Art thou so strained up with walls of brass,  
As yet thou canst not break? what? shall I say,  
Thou want'st a tear to celebrate this day  
Of these thy Saviour's pass●●nings? Why then  
Come all the griefs of miserable men,  
And set on 〈◊〉 once, yet be thou still  
As hard as rock: ne'er weep at any ill,  
If not at this; ne'er weep to see thy friends  
Not pity thee; ne'er weep to see their 
* For dear 〈◊〉.  ends;  
Ne'er weep at any worldly cross; nay more,  
If thou seem senseless of this only sore,  
And wilt not weep to see so sad a part,  
Ne'er be thou hence called by the name of heart.  
But O my 
e Because the heart i● the fountain of life in man.  life! Why dost thou ache, and burn  
So sore within my breast? Why dost thou mourn  
So oft in secret deep fetched sighs, and yet  
Not weep a tear? Alas, canst thou forget  
Thy quondam use, when thou wouldst freely weep  
And not be stayed? O 'twas a happy deep  
Thou than wast in, when grief knew how to plain  
Itself in tears, and so dismiss the pain.  
But woe is me, my fainting 
f 1. Cor. 2.11.  spirit hath seen  
Those heavier plunges that thou now art in,  
And known them too-too well; Alas, my heart!  
Feign wouldst thou personate this passive part  
In a more seemly weed of tears; but lo,  
Thy time's not come, when God will have it so,  
Then sure it shall be so: mean while I pray,  
Rest thee content, and follow on thy way.  
Thus turning to my Christ again; behold,  
I find him brought (as 
g Esay 53.7.  Esay had foretold)  
On to his slaughter-place, where he, good man,  
Though forced by them, yet willingly began  
T' embrace his latest Cross, that woeful bed,  
Whereon he was to lay his wearied head,  
In these his greatest extremes of death: but here,  
O cursed jews, could not you yet forbear  
To cast your scorning taunts on him? Sure no;  
The 
h Psal. 22 7, 8. Math. 27.39, 41, 42, 43, etc. Luk 22.37.  Scriptures had foretold, it should be so;  
You would not, could not choose. But cruel eyes!  
What malice could have wished more miseries  
To fall on him, than now you saw, that yet  
Your wicked brains still studied how to get  
Some new-inuented grievances, whereby  
To add unto his deeps of misery,  
And 
i Psalm. 69. ●6.  persecute whom God had smit? But O,  
Why do I question more of this? for lo,  
Your brows were 
k Esay 48.4.  brass, and you were 
l Acts 2 23.  fore-decreed  
To be the Actors of this horrid deed:  
Wherefore I now return again, and come  
Unto my Saviour's latest part; the Sum  
And woe of all the rest, that dreary seen  
Which now he was to undergo, I mean  
On this sad Scaffold of his latest cross; 
His Agony in the Garden was ●na sensu●, but his last suffering on the Cross 〈…〉: Hayward.   
The first was pain of sense, but this of 〈◊〉:  
That was his body's pain, but here again:  
His pain of soul, which is the soul o● pa●●e.  
For now behold (not to enlarge my verse  
With each sad circumstance) I here rehearse  
Only that one expressless plunge (of all  
The great'st that ever was) when he did call  
At his extremest gasp 
* Our Saviors' death and last plunge especially notable.  My God, my God,  
Why hast thou (now) forsaken me? What rod  
Was it that struck this wondrous blow? Ay me!  
My blessed Christ, what? God forsaken Thee?  
Thyself forsake thyself? O thou my life!  
How could this b●e? Ne'er was there fatal knife  
Could cut this thread; no: Thus it came to pass,  
Thy Spirit (of love) hath told me how it was:  
Now was that woeful time at hand, wherein  
Th'intolerable weight, and 
* Gal. 3.13.  curse of sin,  
Which I and all the world had done, were cast  
Upon thy back at once; Now was that last  
And very utmost deep which thou while-ere  
Didst seem in thy humanity to fear▪  
Now didst thou drink of that accursed cup  
Which erst thou didst entreat thou mightst not sup,  
Unless it were thy Father's will; and here  
Behold it was his will, and thou didst bear  
Those heavy brunts alone for us: from whence  
It was indeed thou hadst such feeling sense  
Of these thy miseries in us, 
m Gal. 3.13, 14.  that we  
Might thereby feel our happiness in thee.  
Nay more, thou now of 
n joh. 15.13.  wondrous love hadst taken  
Our 
o 1. Pet. 2.24.  sins on thee; whence 'twas thy God forsook  
Or seemed at least forsake thee thus▪ and why?  
'Tis sin indeed undoes that happy tie  
Betwixt humanity, and God▪ for this  
Is that whi●h 
p Esay 59.2.  sep'rates us from all our bliss▪  
I mean, from God▪ and this is it which made  
Him thus withdraw himself from thee or shade▪  
As 'twere, his present ●●dance from thy sight,  
And leave thee to thyself, pressed with the weight  
Of sin, and hell: and of thy Father's rage  
'Gainst these our si●●es, since thou wouldst so engage  
Thyself for us: and here thy soul was brought  
Down to the lowest plunge of woe▪ where nought  
Was left to comfort thee: but thou mean while  
Being made as ' twe●e a desolate 
* Or 〈…〉.  exile.  
From all true happiness, didst undergo  
Such sad expressless pangs▪ that none can know  
Their depth, but thou that suffer'dst them: nay, sure  
That only pain of loss thou didst endure,  
Was more by far in reference to thee,  
Then hells most cruel torturings can be  
In reference to us. What shall I say?  
This was indeed a lamentable day  
For thy pure eyes to see; ne'er was there grief  
Like unto this of thine, where all relief  
Was held so long from thee: and here indeed,  
I found that true, which I erewhile did read,  
Foretold of thee, thy 
q Esay 53.2.  comeliness was gone,  
And form or beauty there (alas) was none,  
To make thee now desired: Thou wast a man  
Of 
r Vers. 3.  sorrow, friend of grief, whence we began  
To hide our faces ' way from thee, or thou  
Didst hide as 'twere from us: Thus didst thou bow  
Thy righteous back to hear our griefs, while we  
Like cruel jews, went on in torturing thee  
By adding sin to sin: Thus didst thou 
s Math. 27.46, 50.  cry  
Aloud for us▪ and thus for us didst die:  
Didst die? yea, more, didst 
t Luk 24.6, 7. Christ's Resurrection.  rise again, that we  
Might rise again from sin, and be made free  
From all the pow'r● of death, and hell; and then,  
Being thus revived by thee to live again  
The happy life of Grace▪ till thou shalt please  
To call us gently hence, and sweetly seize  
Upon our souls, to carry us up on high,  
To live with thee through all eternity,  
The endless life of Glory, there where we  
Shall sing of nothing else but praise to thee.  
But, O my God, thou, thou that hast been pleased  
To aid me hitherto; thou that hast eased  
My wearied soul at length in this sweet Ford,  
The sacred Spring of thy all-saving Word,  
Come here again, and as it pleased thee show  
Those mirrors of thy love to m●e, even so  
Enable me, as thou hast said, that I  
May sing thy mercies to posterity,  
In a ne'r-dying verse, whereof each word  
May speak my thankfulness, and each afford  
Eternal matter of thy praise; Nay, more,  
May here be found a salve for every sore,  
To each good soul that ever felt the smart,  
And terrors of a truly contrite heart.  
Come then, my sweet Urania, come again,  
And raise thyself, here change thy doleful strain,  
Into some happier notes of joy, and here  
Come, come, my spirits, I charge you all appear  
In joyous readiness, yea, soul and all.  
Give your attendance to my instant call:  
For now behold, I speak; Come, come away  
To celebrate this high-made Holiday  
Of reconcilement with my God. First then,  
O thou sole Guider of my tongue, and pen,  
And all my thoughts, and all my Acts, whiles they  
Are good: Lo, here I humbly come to pay  
My tributary thanks, that thou hast brought  
Me hitherto, the place which erst I sought;  
And here hast raised my soul again, to see▪  
Those wondrous things which thou hast done for me,  
When I was past recovery; if thou  
Hadst not been timely merciful, and now  
Redeemed me by thy love, as thou hast done,  
Though by the death of 〈◊〉 own only Son,  
Thine own beloved Son: but O my 
u Deut. 30.20  life,  
Life of my soul, I say, whence is the 
x Gen. ●5. 22.  strife  
I feel in me, if this be so; that I  
Am subject yet to Satan's tyranny,  
And cannot praise thee as I would▪ for lo,  
My sins step still between, and 〈◊〉 so,  
I cannot raise my drowrie eyes to see,  
As here I ought, thy wondrous 〈◊〉 to me.  
But O my God here is the reason sure  
Of this my misery; thine eyes so pure  
Will not vouchsafe to loo● 〈◊〉; I mean,  
In smiling sort, because I am not 〈◊〉:  
But thou concealest thy co●nce, 'cause I  
Have broke, indeed, thy Laws most ●ankelesly  
Both in my thoughts, and 〈◊〉▪ and yet, alas▪  
I am not truly penitent, but p●sse  
My time in senselessness as 'twere, and 〈◊〉  
Burst forth in tears, to wash away the blot  
Of this my great ingratitude: ay me,  
All this is true, my God; for 
y Psal. 139.1, 2  thou dost see  
My secret paths: and yet behold, thine eyes  
Do also see my griping miseries,  
How oft indeed I grieve, and sigh, and groan,  
Because I am become so dead a stone;  
And cannot weep, as fain I would: but here,  
O thou my Lord! why should I further fear  
At these mine own deficiencies? behold,  
My Saviour burned in love▪ though I am cold;  
His wounds did weep, to wash away my sin,  
Though I am dull; O cast thine eyes on him!  
Or look on me, but as in Him, that when  
Thou seest me, thou mayst find me cleared, and then  
Thou canst not be displeased with me, for he  
Hath made a full supply of all to thee,  
In my behalf. What shall I say? he bore  
My 
z Esay 53, 4, 5 1. Pet. 2.24.  sins, and griefs, as well thou knowst; yea, more,  
He hath fulfilled thy Law for me: and thou  
Thyself 
* ●al. 1.4. & 4.4, 5.  wouldst have him so: yea sure and now  
Thou'st also led me by thy Spirit to him,  
In these my deeps of misery, and sin,  
To salve, and solace up my soul; and I  
Appeal to thee under no other tye  
Or 
a Acts 4.12.  name but his, that 
* Phil. 3.9.  being found alone  
Having his righteousness, and not mine own,  
(For I, alas, have none) I thus might be  
Made perfect in thy sighs, and so might see,  
And know myself linked in thy love, whereby  
I'm bound to thee in this eternal tye  
Of praise, and thankfulness. Here then, my Lord,  
Come take me to thyself; here let thy Word  
Speak comfort to my soul; that I may be  
From hence accounted thine; here take from me  
All that is mine, my sins, I mean, and hence  
Compose me for thy se●e; Refine my sense,  
With all mine inward faculties, that I  
May be made wholly thine: Let not mine eye  
So much as look on what I love, unless  
It please thee sanctify the same, and bless  
Its sight, and use to me for good; and let  
Me here entreat thee teach me to forget  

b Psal. 45.10.  My father's house, this earth, I mean, that so  
My soul may hence (with that 
c Vers. 13.4.  fair daughter) go  
Unto the King, my Christ, and there may be  
Presented glorious, all within to thee,  
Robed only with his Righteousness, and thou  
May'st 
d Vers. 11.  greatly cast thy love on me; for now,  
Behold, I have given o'er myself to be  
Thy worshipper alone, who art to me  
My only Lord. Here will I set my heart  
As 
e Psal. 45.1.  David erst, to act its thankful part  
Of praises to the King; here shall my pen  
Become his 
f Which was the Pen of a ready writer.  tongue; here will I show to men  
The wondrous 
g Ephes. 2.7.  Riches of thy love, which thou  
Hast shown to me. Come then (my friends) for now  
I will begin; 
h Psal. 66.16.  Come ye that fear the Lord,  
Come all, I say, attend to every word  
Which I shall speak; here will I show to you  
(Such things as may deserve the choicest view)  
What God hath done for my poor soul, when I  
Was 
i Psal. 118.5.  in distress; first please you cast an eye  
But back on these my many griefs, which be  
Set dully forth in this sad map by me;  
And you shall find, if you have eyes to look,  
That can refrain from drowning my poor book,  
With interrupting tears, whiles you peruse  
The heavy plunges of my sorry Muse;  
There shall you find, I say, what deeps of grief  
My soul was in, there shall you find in brief,  
The 
k Psal. ●16. 3.  fearefull'st plunges, and extremest smart  
That ever did beset so weak a heart,  
O're-whelming me at once; there is the pain  
My soul endured, which strove so long in vain,  
To be redeemed from sin; the heaviest load  
That ever yet poor wretched man abode;  
There may you see the fears, despairs, and all  
The sad events that ever could befall  
A perfect sinful wretch, oppressing me  
So sore on every side, that you may be  
Made tremble, but to think upon't; for I  
Was sure, me thought, past all recovery:  
Yea, sure, I was in man's conceit, my soul  
Was prisoner fast to death, writ in the roll  
Of hell's accursed books, and could not stir  
One foot so much, unless it were to err  
Into some greater deep of sin, whereby  
I needs must fall to greater misery.  
This was my case (dear friends) wherein I lay,  
Bereft of help full many a tedious day;  
So that I knew not what to do, nor where  
I might betake myself; all that was here,  
Within this earth, I mean, did seem to me  
But as some friends of mine, which fain would be  
Accounted so, but in my deeps of grief,  
They were so far from sending me relief,  
That at my greatest need my hopes proved vain,  
Thus did they help to add unto my pain.  
And thus, alas, I still continued on  
From bad to worse, till I was so o'ergone  
With my increasing kill sins, that I  
Had lost all sense of mine own misery;  
Which showed indeed, I was quite 
l Ephes. 2.1, 2  dead in sin,  
Such was the fearful case my soul was in.  
But here behold, now you have seen a brief,  
Or shadow of my former tedious grief,  
And woeful deeps that I was in; I say,  
Behold, when all things else were fled away,  
And would not, could not comfort me; even then  
(O here was love surpassing that of men,)  
My God alone took hold on me, when I  
Was in my greatest deep of misery,  
Enslaued to sin, 
m Ezek. 16.6  polluted in my blood,  
(A loathsome lump of any thing but good,)  
And there he sweetly ray●'d me up, and said  
Unto me, ●iue; lo, I will be thine aid,  
(For all things else are vain) even I alone,  
I will redeem thee, for beside there's none  
That can redeem; 
n Exod. 33.19 Rom. 9.15, 16  I will, because I will,  
Of my free Grace, for thy deserts are ill,  
As all the rest thy kindreds are, which came  
From sinful Adam's loins, 
o 1. Sa. 12.22. Esay 43..5. & 48.11.  for mine own Name  
And goodness sake, I will that hence thou be  
A vessel wholly consecrate to me  
In holiness. Thus did he lead me on,  
As I have shown, his sacred Word along,  
Till from Mount 
p From the Law to the Gospel.  Sinai he had brought me up  
To Zion's hill; where he gave me the cup  
Of his salvation freely, and mine eye  
Began to see that happy 
q Ephes. 1.4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, notable to illustrate this.  Mystery  
Of his abundant love in Christ, which he  
Did sweetly there begin lay open to me:  
Lay open indeed; for 'twas a treasury  
Of love beyond conceit, the time when I  
Was in my deepest plunge, pressed down by sin  
Even to despair, the time when I was in  
The very jaws of Hell, even then, I say,  
When there was left for me none other way,  
Then did my gracious God in kindness come  
And take me up, then did he send his Son,  
His own beloved Son, down from on high;  
And rather than he'd suffer me to lie  
In those eternal bonds of death▪ to be  
Still thralled to Hell's expressless misery,  
Whereto myself had brought myself, even he,  
His only Son, would needs come down to be  
My 
r Gal. 1.4. & 3.13.  Ransomer; his love was grown so great,  
he'd rather leave his wont glorious seat  
Of Majesty, then see me thus; yea more,  
he'd be my surety too, 
s Esay 53 4. 1. Pet. 2.24.  for sure he bore  
My sins, and griefs; he underwent the pain  
Of death and hell for me; nought could restrain  
His forward wings of speakelesse love, but he  
Would strait 
t Phil. 2.6, 7, 8.  un-god himself, as 'twere, and be  
Made man like us, he would descend from high,  
Where's erst he sat in his felicity,  
And glory inexpressible; that he  
Might take on him our poor humanity,  
The rags of our 
u Gal. 3.13.  accursed flesh, wherein  
He might in person answer for the sin  
That we had done; he would become our Gage,  
To undergo his father's heavy rage  
And wrath, so justly due to us; that we  
From out the hell of this our low degree,  
Might be raised up so high from death, from sin,  
And all those deeps of misery, wherein  
We erst lay fast implunged, as to be made  
His happy 
a Rom. 8.29  Images, to have a shade  
Of his Divinity as 'twere, and be  
Made 
b Ephes. 4.24  like to him in holiness; that we  
Might be made 
c Ephes. 2.19.  Citizens of Grace, and hence  
Might lead a life beyond the Sphere of sense,  
That happy life of 
d Hab. 2.4. Gal. 2.20.  faith, I mean, in him,  
Till he e'er long come end these days of sin,  
And take us wholly to himself, where we  
Shall live with him through all eternity,  
In never ending speakelesse joys, which he  
Hath merited for us. Thus may you see  
What God hath done for my poor soul, when I  
Was in distress: thus did he 
e 2. Cor. 12.9  magnify  
Himself in this weak man of mine, which he  
Hath so redeemed to be 
f 1. Cor. 6.19  his own to be  
Made only blest by being so. But here,  
O thou my God, why wouldst thou yet appear  
So rigorous to thine only Son, that he  
Should be 
g Gal. 3.13, 14.  accursed thus with our misery,  
To bless us with his happiness? Alas!  
Thou surely couldst have brought thy will to pass  
By any other easier means; and then,  
If needs thou'dst be so good to us, poor men,  
By saving us alive, why didst thou yet  
Thus leave thy Son, as seeming to forget  
Thy love to him, and show it us? Why, sure,  
With thee 'twas small, still to have kept us pure,  
And ne'er have suffered us to fall, if thou  
Wouldst endear thyself to us, as now  
Thou showest thou hadst decreed to do; and he  
(Thy Christ I mean) might still have stayed with thee,  
In his own speakelesse happiness, and not  
Have spilt his precious blood to wash this spot  
Of sin from our defiled souls. Oh no;  
My reason errs, thy love was more than so:  
Thou wouldst not buy us thus for nought, though we  
Were thine before indeed, as dues to thee  
That hadst created us of nought: but here  
Thou needs wouldst have thy wondrous love appear,  
By making us to see ourselves, what we  
Were of ourselves without depends on Thee,  
To wit, mere slaves to sin, and death; and then  
To 
h 2. Cor. 6.20  buy us with a price so high, that men  
Cannot conceive its speak less worth, so dear  
As thine own only Son. Hence did appear  
The wondrous 
i Ephes. 2.7, 8  riches of thy love, which thou  
Indeed didst show to me and them, that now  
Are thine alone by Grace: What shall I say?  
Here's love indeed beyond Compare; the day  
Of my short life would surely fail, if I  
Should strive but to express it worthily,  
As it deserves. What then? Why surely now  
I'll onwards in my thanks, here will I vow,  
And pay unto my God. But what have I,  
Poor soul, to pay? Sure, I will thankfully  
Take 
k Psal. 116.13, 14.  David's cup; here will I on, and call  
Upon his name: here will I sacre all  
That e'er I have unto his praise; and now,  
O thou my Lord, be present with my vow,  
And sweetly aid thy servant on, till he  

My consecration to God.  Perform at full what e'er he vows to thee.  
First then, my God, here do I hence commend  
Myself into thine hands; here I surrend  
That right thou justly hast in me by Grace,  
And 
l That is, nature in its purity.  nature both; here come and take thy place  
Within this 
m 1. Cor. 6.19  temple of thine own, I mean,  
This man of mine; Come thou, ●●d make it clean  
By thy alone pure-purging Spirit, and hence  
Vouchsafe to make continual Residence  
Under this lowly roof of my 
n Esay 57.15, & 66.2.  poor heart,  
Whereof thyself art Lord, that chiefest part  
And room of all my clayey house; wherein  
thou'rt also wont to take delight, if sin  
(That cursed foe of mine) come not before,  
And keep thee out, by 
o Gen. 4.7.  lying at the door.  
But, O my God, hence let it not be said,  
That thy Omnipotence should be afraid  
At such a nothing as it were, that it  
Should keep thee out, and as a Tyrant, fit  
Usurping proudly on thy right▪ Oh no,  
Be thou thyself, my God; Come here and sho●  
Thy all-commanding power, and let not sin  
Dare make a start so much to enter in,  
And domineer on what is thi●●: 
p Psal. 119.94  for I  
Am wholly thine. Come, come, and magnify  
Thyself in my infirmities, that hence,  
Led as it were by thy Omnipotence,  
I may be always doing good; nay, more,  
And always take delight therein: for sure,  
That only gives me true delight, when I  
Am doing so in sweet dependency  
On thee, my God, the chiefest good. O come  
And banish throughly, as thou hast begun,  
Away from me those my most dangerous foes,  
Which erst overwhelmed me with so many woes;  
All my despairing thoughts I mean, and all  
My thoughts of vanity, which did enthrall  
My soul while ere so fast to hell, that I  
Was brought into such deeps of misery,  
I knew not what long time to do. Come, come,  
Even for the Passion of thine only Son,  
And free me from these tyrannies. Nay, hence  
Let me be tied to any pain of sense  
Rather than this of 
q Or, of soul. sc. the loss or want of Gods joying countenance, of all pains most miserable.  loss, of loss, I say,  
Of thy sweet countenance. O let the day  
Of that alone shine still on me, and then  
Come all the gloomy frowns of mortal men;  
Come all the stormy powers of Death, of Hell;  
Come any thing; in thee I shall be well:  
In thee alone I shall be well; in thee,  
Knit fast (I mean) in Christ, by that sweet tye  
Of thine abundant love through him: for he  
Hath broke the bonds of hell, and set me free;  
He hath 
b Psal. 103.4.  redeemed my life from death, that I  
Should hence enjoy the 
c Rom. 8.21.  glorious liberty  
Of those that are thy happyed sons; and hence  

d Psal. 116, 9  Walk on alone in thy Omnipotence,  
Still prospering in thy ways, which is to be  
Raised up to heaven, whiles yet on earth, to me  
The very chiefest happiness that I  
Would here desire. O let me live, and dye  
Within these links of thy sweet love: for here  
My hopes are firm with 
e Rom. 8.  Paul, no faithless fear  
Can break this 
f Ibid. vers. 29, 30.  chain by which I'm tied; for I  
Am thine 
g Vers. 1.  in Christ: there's no calamity,  

h Vers. 38. and last.  Nor life, nor death, things present, nor to come,  
Nor height, nor depth, nor aught that may be done,  
Can separate me from thee in Christ. And now  
What yet remains? here will I pay my vow  
Of thankfulness to thee, my God, yea'uen here,  
Led onwards in thy 
i Psal. 71.16.  strength, I'll sweetly steer  
My leaking boat along, till it hath brought  
My wearied muse unto the shore she sought  
With so oft doubled tears, and sighs. But here,  
O you my friends, you all I mean that fear  
The Lord with me, pray join your helping hand,  
That we the sooner may obtain the Land.  
Come then, I say, we all that are combined  
To God in Christ, hence let us be refined  
From all our 
k Eph. 4. ●2.  former vanities; from hence  
Let us shake off those menstruous clouts of sense,  
Which erst we were polluted with, and now  
Be clothed 
l Eph. 4.23, 24.  anew with Christ; hence let us vow  
Ourselves as holy to the Lord, that we  
May still 
m Vers. 13, 15  grow up in faith's sweet unity,  
Till we be perfect men in Christ. Come, come,  
Let others do they know not what, go on  
Still reu'ling in their ills, let them ●ke up  
The seeming sweets of sins impoys'ned cup;  
Let them carouse in vanity, and draw  
Iniquity with ropes, ne'er stand in awe '  
Of future judgements; Let them 
n jer. 5.28.  prosper still  
As they suppose, by adding ill to ill;  
Let them be careless of themselves, and spend  
Their precious days, ne'er thinking on the end.  
Let them make flesh their guide, taking delight  
In their own lusts, still glorying in the height  
Of their ambitious titles, and their wealth,  
Got by obliquity, and lawless stealth:  
Let them 
o Esay 3.16, 17 18, 19, etc.  be-pride themselves in rich attires  
And robes of State, burning with lawless fires  
Of lusts not to be named; let them be fed  
With choicest meats, and glutted up with bread,  

p jer. 5.7, 8.  Like pampered Horses to the full: I say,  
Let them spend all their happiness away  
In these and such like vanities, nor think  
On death at all, thou standing at the brink  
Of their uncertain graves, and heavens high hand  
Of vengeance over them doth always stand  
Ready to strike them down to hell: but we  
Will joy alone in this sweet liberty  
We have in 
q Rom. 8.1. 1. Cor. 7.22.  Christ, we will delight, I say,  
Ourselves in him, in him we'll vow, and pay  
Our dues of praise unto our God; in him  
we'll hence 
r Rome 8.37. Our safety and sweet privileges in Christ.  triumph o'er all the powers of Sin,  
Of death, and Hell: in Him we will express  
Our utmost thanks by lives of 
s Eph. 4.24.  holiness,  
And 
t Psal. 116.9.  walking in his ways, till by the hand  
Of his 
u Psal. 143.10  good Spirit, hee'th brought us to the Land  
Of righteousness where we would be: on Him  
We will build all our confidence, and climb  
To 
x joh. 1.51. referred to Gen. 28.12.  Heaven alone by Him, 
y Psal. 91.4.  under his wings  
we'll always shroud ourselves, nor shall the Kings  
Of th'earth be able do us harm, though they  

z Psal. 2.1, 2.  Rage's ere so much. Our foes shall melt away  
Like Snow against the Sun: and 'cause we've made  
The 
a Ps. 91.1, 9  Lord our dwelling place, under his shade  
We shall be surely safe; ye●, 
b Psal 46.2.  though the earth  
Be moved, with all the powers thereof, though death  
Triumph on 
c Vers. 7.  every side of us, yet we  
Shall surely be preserved, and live to see  
The wondrous riches of his love, wherein  
He hath endeared himself to us: through him  
We shall pass all these nether-stormes, and spite  
Of all with-stands, walk onwards in the light  
Of his sweet countenance, still singing praise  
Unto his Name, till he at length shall raise  
Our Muses to a higher pitch, where we  
Shall sing his praises to eternity,  
In his ne'r-ending place of bliss, even there  
Where he himself remains, where neither fear,  
Nor grief shall interrupt our joys, but we  
Shall have our fills of all felicity,  
And glory inexpressible; the height,  
And chief of which is in the 
d In beatifica visione Dei, as Divines say.  blessed sight  
Of this our glorious God, 
e 1. Cor. 13.12. 1. john 3.2.  whom we shall see  
There face to face, even as he is; yea, be  
Made like to him: what would you have me say?  
Mine eyes are dazzled at this glorious day;  
And reason stands amazed, when it would reach  
This wondrous height; how shall a Mortal preach  
Of this immortal state? O had mine eye  
But one sweet glimpse of this, how should I tie  
Your ears unto my tongue, when I should speak  
Of what I saw? 'twould make your hearts to break,  
With earnest longings after it; and you  
Would scorn from hence so much as take a view  
Of these inferior vanities, which be  
But toys as 'twere, not worth your thoughts, and flee  
Away almost as soon as come; withal  
Leaving behind them nought but cursed gall,  
And bitterness, to vex, and gripe, and grieve  
Those foolish souls which did erewhile believe  
Their false pretended sweets: but here alone  
Is 
f Psal. 16.11.  fullness of all true delight, where none  
Can ever be deceived, unless it be  
As that wise 
g 1. King. 10.  Queen of Sheba was, when she  
Herd of the glory of King Sal●●on,  
And of his happiness; but when anon  
She came and saw it with her eyes, she than  

h 1. King. 10 5, 6. Vers. 7.  In great amazedness thereat began  
Confess, that all was true; yea sure the fame  
Said she, came far too short. If then the name  
Of Solomon were such, behold, here's one  
That's 
r Mat. 12.42. Luke 11.31.  greater far than was King Solomon:  
What shall I say of him! sure, my report  
Will speak but truth, and yet come so far short,  
As finite doth of infinite: what than  

s 1. King. 10.8  She spoke of Solomon, and of his men,  
So may I speak to thee, my God; O how,  
How happy are thy Saints, which fall and bow  
Before thy Majesty? Happy, I say,  
Are those that have the privilege to stay  
Continually with thee, there to behold  
Thy glorious face, wherein, 
t Psal. 16.11.  as David told,  
Are joys at full▪ and sit at thy right hand,  
Where pleasures live for evermore; where stand  
Thy blessed troops of glorious Saints, that sing  
Eternal 
u Reuel. 19.1, 6.  Halleluia's to their King,  
To thee their King, to thee alone; for thou  
Art only 
x Reuel. 4.11.  worthy, O my God. And now  
Here do I crave to join with them, even I,  
Though yet on earth, here do I thankfully  
Fall down before thy glorious Throne, and here  
In humbled confidence and holy fear,  
I offer my poor mite to thee of praise  
And thankfulness, in these my lowly Lays.  
All glory be to thee, my God, to Thee  
And to the Lamb (which 
y Reuel. 5.9.  hath redeemed me  
By his dear blood) and to the sacred Spirit,  
The 
z joh. 15.26.  Comforter, and pledge of true delight,  
Which hath been with me hitherto, and brought  
My soul into thy peace. Sure I have nought  
That's worth thy great acceptance, Lord; for I  
Am poor, thou knowst, and full of misery,  
Happy in nothing else but thee, I mean,  
By being thine; and yet I 〈◊〉 unclean;  
(
a Levit. 13.45  Unclean, alas, unclean well may I cry,  
Come thou and wash away my Leprosy,  
And make me fit for being thine) O then  
What shall I pay (who am the worst of men)  
To thee for all thy mercies, Lord? Why here  
I'll pay thee with 
b 1. Chron. 29 14. 1. Cor. 6.20▪  thine own, the case is clear;  
I offer up myself to thee, with all  
That here I have; hence may it please thee call,  
And count me wholly for thine own: for now  
I bid farewell unto the world, and vow  
In thy sweet aid, eternal enmity  
To all my wont sins, to vanity,  
And every luring bait of hell. And here  
I humbly do devote myself in fear,  
And holiness to thee, my God, that I  
May still be praising thee until I die,  
In all my thoughts, and words, and acts; and hence  
May walk along by faith, and not by sense,  
Still gladded with thy countenance, till I  
Have overpassed the present misery  
Of this short life, and till my soul at length  
Being clothed upon with that immortal strength  
Of my blessed 
b Phil. 3.21.  Saviour Christ, shall sweetly flee  
Into thine hands, there to remain with thee  
In thy expressless happiness, till thou  
In that last day shalt swiftly come, and bow  
The heavens, and raise my body up (though dead  
And rotned dust) and join it to my 
c Ephes. 1.22.  Head  
And Saviour Christ, where it again shall be  
United to my soul, 
d job 19.26, 27.  and I shall see  
My Saviour with these very eyes, even I,  
Together with that blessed company  
Of glorious Saints; where our immortal Lays  
Shall never cease to celebrate thy praise.  
Mean while, my Muse, here take thy longed for rest  
On this sweet shore, here live amongst the blessed  
In ever happy Sympathies, and be  

e Vr● ab 〈◊〉 & Heaven, quasi ●sa C●el●s●.  Celestial, like thyself. Here cease with me,  
Thy wont teary strains, and let thine eyes  
Be solaceed still in holy Theories  
And contemplations of thy God, till he  
Shall raise thee up beyond mortality,  
To join with his celestial Choir, and sing  
Eternal Hallelujahs unto 
f Reuel. 5.13  Him,  
And to the Lamb for evermore: Till when,  
Cease not to pray, 
g Revel. 22. ●0.  Lord jesus, come. Amen.  
FINIS.