A Ship of Arms, Useful for all sorts of people in this woeful time of War.  
Fashioned by a plain Country-Farmer, SAMUEL BRASS, Nigh the River of Tease, Com. Ebor:  
Printed at London, in the Year 1653.   

To the rightly Noble, and worthily honoured Lady, The Lady ELWES, Wife to the Right Worshipful Sir JERVACE ELWES Knight.  
MAdam, well may you wonder at the audacious impudence of a stranger shall fix your Name in the frontispiece of his simplicity: But though I never saw your face, I have often heard the fame of your pious zeal to Godward, confirmed by those set hours daily put apart in your private Closet, no doubt for his service (the only real ground of all your shining virtues) which out the boldness upon me to present you this plain piece of rustic Northern work savouring its Climate) containing a few wand'ring thoughts of a decrepit miserable wretched Old man, humbly entreating you will vouchsafe him the favour at some spare hours of your life (if any such can be found) to open and read, and what you find unworthy your judicious eye, to raze out, and the poor remainder (if any such can be found) to place at the threshold of your Library, where the hem of your vesture may preserve it from the viperous tongue of the venomous Spider. And as you now live eminent amongst the best of Ladies, in that famous yet terrestrial City of London: So that you may hereafter live glorious among the best of Saints in that heavenly City new Jerusalem, shall be the prayer of  
Your Servant deeply devoted, SAM. BRASS.   

To my loving Countrymen, the Commons of ENGLAND.  
Dear Brethren, and loving Countrymen,  
I Have lavished out 80 years in jollity & pleasure, losing the reins of liberty to all libidinous desires, glutting myself with the vain delights of this wretched world, mispending that precious time my gracious God of his abundant goodness bestowed upon me for his own service solely. So as I am now become that Dives our Saviour spoke of, daily tormented with the pain of forepassed pleasure: And lest you my Countrymen should not hear Moses or the Prophets, I have sent you this message from a dying man, To amend your Lives, lest you fall into the Lake where you may cry for a cup of cold water to cool your tongues, and be denied it. Happy is he whom other men's harms do make to beware. For your souls sake, and for Jesus Christ's sake, lay to heart what is here in charity presented, by a plain Countryman, your friend and wellwisher,  
Samuel Brass.   

To the READER.  

READER,  
I Wrote this little Book chief for myself and familiar friends; yet if any other can get good by it, I shall be glad. 'Tis a Collection of a few wand'ring Thoughts of an Old man, lame both in body and mind; Written in his bed the other Winter, occasioned with want of rest by reason of pain. His intention is good, if expressed by finer fingers: But bear, with infirmities, and make that use he desireth, who is your friend and wellwisher,  
Sam. Brass.   

Fly foolish Fashion ('cause a novel friend)  
You'll read perchance until you see its end,  
Then lay't aside: but good friend do not so,  
Keeped near your heart, and it will cure all wo.  
Read it, re-read it, read it o'er again;  
The matter's good, though th' method poor & plain.  
S. B.    

Of the Author and his Book. An Anagrammatical Motto of Samuel Brass.  

Brass se Emanuel, is his exhortation:  
Emanuel see Brass, is his approbation.   

Both these united in him do appear;  
Love of Christ's members, of his precepts fear.    

Of the Book.  
His book his honour; for it's revealed light  
A lantern is to walk in Christ his sight.  
Here's no new light, nor any old tradition,  
Nor Heresy, nor Romish superstition:  
But he that reads it, may in't truly find  
Full great contentment for a Christian mind.  
William Kay, Minister at Stokesley.   

Upon perusal of this book, I find it plenteously to perform what it promiseth; to be a ship full fraught with Arms, and represents David's Tower, wherein are a thousand bucklers, all shields of mighty men, (Can. 4.4.) 'Tis indeed full of divine Meditations, sweet Allusions, concin● Comparisons, darting Penetrations; and concludes the Author's conversation to be in Heaven: It is Heaven upon Earth. And I may truly say of this, as Nazianzen of Basils'; It is Devotionis maribus occusta Navis, A Shipfull fraught with the rich merchandise of Devotion. This is the opinion of  
Tho. Oddir, Minister at Kirby.   

To the Author.  
Go vend these Arms throughout the Christian world,  
Now all in war; more precious they than gold,  
Being parcel gilt, all of them Cannon-proof;  
Where they're in use, the Enemy stands aloof:  
And though his power be limited to offend thee,  
Fear not but Christ thy Saviour shall defend thee.  
So thou make use of what is here set down,  
Thou mayst be sure in heaven to wear a crown.  
By a Friend, E. A.   

A Ship of Arms.  


O Sinful soul, O sinful soul,  
Shall Christ be born for thee,  
And thou not live and in his service die?  
O cruel Caitiff, cruel Caitiff,  
Was't born tormentor be  
Of him Laid down his dear heart blood for thee?  
O wretch, O wretch; O wretch, O wretch,  
That erst thou should be be boar  
Love Satan serve, and leave thy Saviour;  
Who in that night the Jews did him betray,  
Went forth to th' fields, as he was wont, to pray;  
Unto the Garden called Gethsemane,  
Where he and his did sometimes use remain;  
Attended that night only with his own,  
For his going thither was no further known  
To any of them that were his followers more,  
Or else no doubt of followers had been store:  
And being there, he went himself apart,  
That he to heaven might raise and lift his heart:  
And wiled th' Apostles they should watch & pray  
Lest that the Tempter might take them away.  
But he being gone, his followers fell asleep,  
Whom he reproved, because they could not keep  
Themselves awaking for so short a space,  
And then did he return to's former place:  
And they like men unto their sleepy vain,  
Which he well knowing, turned back again,  
And wiled them sleep and fear not, he would be  
Their keeper, during all eternity.  
And then fell he upon his bended knees,  
And prayed for those that were his enemies.  
That done, he called, and willed them to awake;  
For they were nigh intended him to take:  
Who suddenly were then hard by at hand,  
Attended strongly with a Soldiers Band;  
All who were furnished, each one Soldierlike,  
With burnished sword, with staff, or else with pike:  
And when they came to our sweet Saviour nigh,  
He did demand whom 'twas they came to spy:  
They said, For Jesus, he of Nazareth;  
That's I (said he) and pray now what pleaseth  
You do with him? whereat all being astoned,  
They started back, and fell upon the ground:  
And when they did from that amazement wake,  
He said, 'Tis I whom ye are come to take.  
Now Traitor Judas did before combine,  
Whom he should kiss, might be a certain sign  
For them, whereby to know him from the rest;  
Which proved a worm within his bosom breast:  
Who said Hail Master, than he did him kiss,  
Not knowing, wretch, how much he did him bliss  
By that foul act, but yet whenas he saw  
Th' event thereof, he then did stand in awe;  
And gave again the Pieces, price of blood,  
In hope thereby he might receive some good:  
But his repentance it (seemeth) came too late,  
Because he proved a wicked Reprobate;  
And hanged himself, for that his Treason done  
To his own Master, who was Gods own Son;  
Whom now the Soldiers had with them in Hold,  
And with our Saviour were more saucy bold  
Then fitting was; if they vile men had known,  
That they should reap such seed as they had sown.  
Then Simon he drew forth a sword, and there  
Did quite cut off the High-Priests servant's ear:  
But's Master bade him sheathe his sword again,  
For who use swords, with swords shall sure be slain.  
And dost not know, if so it were my mind,  
I could of Angels thousands Legions find,  
For to confound that cruel company?  
But now's the hour, and so now let it be.  
And then he called for Malchus to come near,  
And with a touch did heal cut Malchus ear.  
O blessed touch might that to Malchus been,  
If Malchus heart, had Malchus ear but seen.  
But he was like the rest his company,  
Whose lighted torches could not make them see  
Within their breasts, where they might easily find,  
Even hearts of stone; but Satan made them blind;  
For th' blind are often found to be most bold,  
An ancient Adage, true as it is old.  
Then on went they with their resolved design,  
As Satan did their wicked hearts incline,  
And tugged their Prisoner with all foul disgrace,  
Until they brought him to a public place,  
Where multitudes were ready tending there,  
In hope that they might something of him hear,  
At Caesar's Hall, where some did cause to make  
A fire, but not for our sweet Saviour's sake,  
But for themselves, that it might keep them warm  
For fear lest they by cold might catch some harm.  
'Mongst whom was Peter got, into the throng;  
To whom one said, he surely did belong  
Unto the Prisoner there was standing by:  
But he poor man his Master did deny.  
And after that, there was another said,  
thou'rt one of them whom we this night betrayed;  
But he did still maintain his former Plea,  
And said, Till than he ne'er his Master see.  
And then anon there was a Damsel came,  
And challenged him, and said he did remain  
With that same man; and then weak Peter swore  
That he did never see that man before.  
With that his Master turning back his eye,  
And so beholding Peter steadily,  
The Cock did then begin his first to crow,  
And Peter out, and seemed to make a show  
Of grievous anger; but the truth was so,  
His heart was like within him burst for woe,  
That he his own good Master had denied,  
Whom he had vowed to serve until he died:  
And called to mind, how had his Master said,  
By him ere long, that he should be denayed  
Even thrice, before the Cock should twice but crow,  
As he had then done, all even on a row:  
Which made his eyes gush out with brinish tears,  
And eke his heart with dreadful horrid fears  
Of cruel torments, due for his desert,  
And grieved him greatly at the very heart,  
That he should prove to be so weak in mind,  
Whom God himself before that had assigned  
To set in heaven, and be a Judge of them,  
Who were the twelve Tribes of Jerusalem.  
And now the Soldiers, where they do abide,  
Our Saviour still they shamefully deride;  
Abusing him with scorn disdainfully,  
As though that he had had no Deity;  
And spit upon his sweetest tender face,  
Abusing him with all the foul disgrace  
They could devise, to make themselves but merry,  
Not thinking he was able make them weary  
(If so he pleased) but he good man did bear,  
Even whilst these Jews did box him on the ear;  
And for their sport our Saviour they do scorn,  
And with a fools-coat him they do adorn:  
And first blindfold, and then they do him beat;  
And bid him guests who it was that did the feat:  
And at the dawning of the day they call,  
And him convey into their common Hall;  
Where, when there could no cause be justly found  
For to condemn whom they had now fast bound,  
They forge false men for witnesses to swear,  
What wretches they from his own mouth did hear,  
That he their stately Temple would pull down,  
And in three days set one up in the room  
Should equal it, in every each kind degree,  
For glorious beauty and for dignity.  
And thereto he good man did not reply,  
For which they deemed him worthy well to die:  
Still heaping on him more and more disgrace,  
By hurrying him from this unto that place;  
And carrying him from this, unto that Judge,  
For of their pains these Jews they did not grudge.  
And thence to Pilate him these wretches bear,  
That he their wicked witnesses might hear;  
And judge him worthy therefore for to die:  
But he as yet could nothing in him spy  
(Deserving death,) and so caused him be sent  
To Herod Tetrarch, then b'ing Precedent,  
Who was full glad that he might see him there,  
Of whom he did so many wonders hear.  
But he could nothing of our Saviour get;  
Which made him grieve, and inwardly to fret:  
So he returned him back to Pilat's place,  
Where he received all the foul disgrace  
That either hatred, malice, or envy  
Might throw on him, to make the innocent die.  
Then Pilat's wife in haste a message sent,  
And willed her husband he should be content,  
And have no meddling with that good just man,  
For of him she had had a fearful Dream,  
And suffered much, and therefore humbly prayed  
He rather God then any man obeyed:  
Which struck Judge Pilate to the very heart,  
And caused in him an inward grievous smart:  
And then he said, that he could find no cause  
To judge him die, no not by their own Laws;  
And washed his hands, if so he had his heart,  
To keep him free from th' unjust Judge's part.  
But it is conscience in a Judge's breast,  
Which makes the Judge prove either man or beast;  
And yet because the people's earnest cry,  
He gave him judgement worthy well to die:  
So he was condemned and without any cause;  
But that the Jews made Will to stand for Laws:  
And then cried out, O horrid shameful thing!  
That I should thus be drawn condemn your king  
But they denied, and thereto gave no ear,  
That he the name of King of Jews should bear.  
Now custom was, at that first set one free,  
Who for desert was judged worthy to die,  
And therefore moved that they would Jesus choose,  
But they did Jesus utterly all refuse;  
And cried aloud that they might crucify  
Him, whom indeed most willing was to die:  
And made their choice of a wicked murderer,  
For him that was our blessed Saviour.  
But Pilate he (b'ing stung) continued still,  
To try if he by means might win their will  
For to accept of that just man Jesus,  
In stead of that most unjust Barrabas.  
But they still cried, that they might crucify  
Him, whom they rather ought to Deify.  
And then did Pilate cause to chasten him,  
And ordered he should be delivered them;  
And o'er his head he then did write this thing,  
This is the man who is of Jews the King:  
And it was writ in divers several Tongues,  
That all who list might read & see their wrongs.  
But they required he would be pleased to add  
To this inscription only so he said:  
But he did answer them, What I have writ,  
I am resolved I will not alter it.  
Then they with joy began to lead away  
Towards the place is called Golgotha;  
And forced our Saviour's tender back to bear  
His heavy Cross, which he could hardly rear;  
And there were multitudes did follow him,  
Some crying, and some other pitying:  
And many women were the crowd among,  
Who wept so high for all that mighty throng,  
That Jesus heard, and he cried unto them,  
Weep for yourselves and for your own children;  
And for Jerusalem.  
For th' time shall come, and now doth draw fas●● on  
That there shall not be left one little stone  
Upon another, in that stately Town;  
Although it be now of such great renown.  
But most of them to him no credit gave,  
But still they do themselves so mis-behave,  
As they had done until he had got his grave;  
And when they came unto that bloody place  
Assigned, as they thought, for a great disgrace,  
They then began that heavy tree to rear,  
And eke his sweetest tender skin to tear,  
Between two thiefs; a horrid shameful thing,  
Though good enough to crucify our King.  
The one of which thiefs, in most sconrful wise,  
Our Sovereign thus did jeeringly despise.  
If thou be God, or the Son of God, Jesus,  
Go down from the tree, and save both thee and us;  
But the other he in zeal reproving him,  
Said, We are punished justly for our sin,  
But this man he hath done (at all) none ill,  
Yet suffers only cause the Jews so will,  
Against all law: and then with heart said he,  
Vouchsafe good Lord be pleased remember me  
When thou dost come in thy glorious Majesty,  
Who answered him in mild and humble wise,  
This day shalt thou be with me in Paradise.  
O happy thief that was inspired with grace,  
To come to heaven within so short a space.  
When all sorts scoffed our blessed Saviour,  
Aswell the Priest as did the soldier;  
Who cast their Dice upon his seamless coat,  
And his it was to whom it fell by lot,  
All this that mild man took most patiently,  
To teach us sinners how that we should die;  
And yielded up his dearest humane breath,  
To free thee sinner from eternal death.  
Now let us all with joy due praises sing,  
To God our Saviour and our heavenly King.  
For th' thorny crown which he (good man) did bear  
Was due by right for wretched thee to wear.  
Then do thou suffer freely for his sake,  
And to him thou, do thou thyself betake.  
The drops that trickled down his tender cheek,  
Would force the hardest stony heart to weep:  
For without sorrow for thy deadly sin,  
Thou mayst be sure thy heart is hard within.  
His arms he stretched out upon the tree,  
By sweet embracements calling unto thee.  
Then do not fly, as father Adam did,  
For Adam's sin by flight could not be hid:  
But lovingly do thou his love embrace,  
Who's all only giver of heavenly grace.  
His hands were rend with cruel iron pins,  
To gain thee pardon for thy cruel sins.  
O then for pardon do thou humbly pray,  
Or look to have none at another day.  
The watery blood that issued out his side,  
Will wash off sins, if it be well applied.  
Apply it then, if thou hast any grace,  
Or ne'er expect in heaven to have a place.  
The nails which fastened down his tender feet,  
Will work in the hardest flinty heart regret.  
Then beat thy heart, and strive to break it oft,  
If thou intent by grace to make it soft;  
For broken hearts are they will only win,  
And gain us pardon for out grievous sin.  
His cruel pains endured in every part,  
Will mollify the hardest flinty heart.  
Then search thine own, and sound do thou try it,  
If these his pains with grief do mollify it.  
Examine strictly even every each hollow part,  
For many such be sure is in thy heart:  
And thus must thou, and thou thyself alone,  
Or else thou knowst within it can come none.  
Then do it daily, if so thou do mean  
These hollow places in it to keep clean:  
For there the tempter loves to lurk and lie,  
If he can compass any harborie;  
Who will promise fair, if thou wilt in him trust,  
But fairest words are often found unjust.  
Then do thou fear, and from the tempter fly,  
For few that strive do obtain victory;  
But to thy Saviour do thou boldly go,  
For he doth use put no man off with no:  
He neither sinned in thought, nor word, nor deed,  
And yet for thee his heavy herd did bleed,  
And yielded up his blessed heavenly Ghost,  
Which was conveyed by glorious Angels host  
Up to the heavens, from whence at first it came,  
And where it shall for evermore remain.  
And then the earth did quake for very fear,  
And stony Rocks themselves in sunder tear:  
The famous Temple rend itself in twain,  
And so ere since it doth and shall remain.  
The heavens forsook their spangled wont light,  
And eke the Sun, which then did shine so bright,  
For grief and sorrow did itself close hid,  
And underneath a thick cloud did abide,  
Whereat the watchmen were so sore astoned,  
And struck with fear, as they fell all to ground.  
And when they waked, than each of them did swear,  
'Twas th' Son of God whom they had hanged there.  
O praise, sing praise to him that sits on high,  
Who thought no scorn for wretched thee to die.  
O that he should be cruelly crucified!  
Who did deserve be mightily magnified.  
Him serve, him fear, him let us still obey,  
On whom depends our only hope and stay.  
O praise, sing praise to his most holy name,  
Who was, is now, and ever shall be the same.  
Sing praise to him who lovingly died for thee,  
Yet still doth live, and shall eternally.  
Let all the earth conjoin with one accord,  
To sing the praises of that heavenly Lord,  
Who made the heavens, the earth, the sea, and all  
That in them is, come at his only call.  
He spoke the word, and they were all made then,  
The word was this, Let it so be, amen.  
These creatures all, of him do stand in awe,  
To them his word is for a binding law;  
They never do use oppose his sacred will,  
But all obey their heavenly maker still,  
Save only man, this sinful wretched man,  
For whose sole use all these good creatures came;  
Who was at first created good and free  
From thought of sin, or any malady.  
And Maker-like thou (sinner) might have stayed,  
If thou thy maker hadst in heart obeyed:  
But willingly thou wretch didst lose that grace,  
And so became a miserable sinful race,  
Of runagates from aught that tends to good,  
But that thy Saviour shed his precious blood,  
To bring thee back to that happy state again,  
If thou hadst grace being there, in it remain.  
Praise him, praise him, and for thyself do pray,  
That thou in him may'st ever live and stay,  
And on his passion daily ruminate,  
To work in thee of horrid sin a hate;  
And keep in heart for what cause he was sent,  
To call poor sinners that they may repent.  
For without that, be sure thou hast no part,  
Nor any portion in thy Saviour's smart.  
But thou thyself dost him still crucify,  
Whom thou oughtest rather even to glorify.  
Repent betime, if thou hast any grace,  
Or else in heaven expect to have no place:  
For no unclean thing can ascend on hy,  
Where Angels sit and sing continually  
The Praises due to that heavenly holy one,  
Who made all creatures by his word alone,  
And is desirous for to have them all  
To come to him, and doth them often call.  
Then go with speed, thou wretch, and do not stay,  
For great's the danger of one hours' delay.  
And if thou shalt thy Saviour now deny,  
He'll not be heard when thou dost to him cry.  
Then thou beware of being drawn away  
By him that seeks thy ruin and decay,  
And doth delude thee by some sly deceit,  
Enticing thee with his sweet sinful bait;  
To overthrow thy soul and body there  
Where nought appears, but only horrid fear  
Of ugly fiends, whose mouths like lions roar,  
And with their teeth do rend and eke devour  
All such as come within their hellish reach:  
Then learn by others thou thyself to teach.  
Of sinful life and death to stand in fear,  
Lest soul and body both, these hellhounds tear,  
And torture them in that most fearful place,  
Where all must live do not partake of grace.  
Then fast and pray, and fast and pray again,  
That thou with Christ in heaven mayst aye remain;  
And do repent thee of thy sinful crime,  
And be thou sure thou do't whiles thou hast time,  
For time's not tied, no not to th' best man's leisure,  
Therefore this day do thou give o'er thy pleasure;  
And strive to please thy heavenly God and King,  
And to him always his due praises sing,  
And give him thanks that he hath spared thee,  
Till thou hast time thy sinful life to see;  
And blame thyself for thy hard stony heart,  
Since that thy God hath played a loving part,  
In often calling and recalling thee,  
To search thy heart, and secret sins to see;  
For though thy conscience hourly thee accuse,  
Yet to repent, thou sinner dost refuse:  
So that death's due for this thy great neglect,  
But that thy God doth lovingly thee respect.  
And though thy sins do justly death deserve,  
Yet still thy life this good God doth preserve,  
And stead of death, he heaps on thee blessings,  
By sparing thee, and eke long-sufferings;  
To try if thou'lt thy sinful life forsake,  
And to this good God thee thyself betake,  
Who poureth out his blessings on thee still,  
To try if he by gifts may win thy will  
To follow him: O do thou follow then,  
And follow fast withouten all delay  
This thy good God, and from him do not stay;  
With all thy heart, and that unfeignedly,  
And free from (that vile sin) hypocrisy;  
Lest sleeping conscience justly thee accuse,  
That thou thyself dost thee thyself abuse,  
By seeming other then indeed thou art,  
But God above seethe th' secrets of thy heart;  
Though man believe thou art the very same  
Which thou dost seem, as if free from all blame  
Or blot of sin, but what to them appears  
In outward show, or to their fleshly ears  
Report doth bring: but sinner be thou sure,  
Thy Saviour cannot this vile sin endure,  
Thus to be mocked with that the outward part,  
Which differs far from the inward sinful heart;  
For he desires to have thy heart alone:  
Then give him that, or else thou givest him none.  
For soul and body are ordained to go,  
At th'end together, whether they will or no,  
To th' great account, and therefore do thou see  
Thou daily use to obey the Deity:  
And be not thou with this wicked world beguiled,  
For then a sinner thou art sure be styled.  
But have a care that thou do daily use,  
Of daily sins thyself for to accuse.  
And keep a strict account of thy weak state,  
And then by that thou wilt discern thy fate;  
Which must be hell, or else that heavenly bliss,  
Fie, fly from that, and care to cleave to this;  
Where be assured thy Saviour thou shalt see,  
Who hath endured the torments due to thee;  
To suffer death as Christ himself hath done,  
For all of them that to him freely come.  
Then freely go, and that without delay,  
To him that putteth no man off with nay,  
But willingly with love embraceth all,  
Who on the name of Jesus only call.  
Then call and call, and do thou call again,  
That thou in him may'st evermore remain:  
And then fear not, but thou shalt with him find  
Eternal joys, yea far beyond thy mind;  
For be assured, no earthly creature can  
Express the real happiness of that man  
That cometh there; and therefore do thou strive  
At that great happiness that thou mayest arrive:  
Where Saints and Angels sing continually,  
To him that lives, and shall eternally.  
O let both heart and tongue, and all agree  
To sing his praise; so lovingly died for thee:  
Let all the earth, the worthy praises sing  
Of Christ our Saviour, & our heavenly king;  
And join themselves in prais with one accord  
To sing the praises of the heavenly Lord,  
On whom th' arch-angels daily do attend,  
And shall for aye e'en world without all end.  
And all of them do all times sing,  
To God our Saviour, & our heavenly king.  
O mount my soul, and strive to apprehend  
These heavenly joys, which never shall have end:  
And set thy song to that glorious Angels  
Who joys enjoy beyond all hearts desire choir  
Even that the presence of our Saviour sweet,  
The very Essence of all joy complete:  
Sweet Jesus please my soul may there reside  
And in thy Passion faithfully confide,  
And thereby draw from hence this terren part  
As only guided by a fleshly heart,  
Subjects itself unto the inferior power,  
Who doth not cease torment it every hour:  
With sundry passions it cannot resist,  
But willingly complyes to what he list  
For to command, until he so shall please,  
My Saviour sweet to grant to me some ease,  
Of this tentation, wherewith wretched I  
Have still been governed from my infancy:  
Then come sweet Jesus, and that presently;  
Or else Lord Jesus I shall surely die:  
In this my sin, except good God, thou wilt  
With thy dear blood wash of my sinful guilt,  
And take from me this wicked Legion out,  
Of my poor heart, and cause be put to rout.  
All the tentations wherewth, (hellhound) he  
Continually (poor wretch) tormenteth me;  
And bind him lord, I thee most humbly pray,  
That he do never more lead me away,  
As he hath done, but that I sinful may  
From this fowl Legion totally fall away:  
But 'tis not in me, nor my power, O Lord,  
Except thou pleas vouchsafe to me the word:  
Then please sweet Jesus, I thee humbly pray,  
That blessed word of comfort to me say;  
That thou in me, and I likewise in thee  
Shall rest, and so for evermore shall be  
Freed from tentation of that wicked fiend,  
The mortal enemy of all humane kind.  
Which hurrieth this my weak & fleshly mind,  
More wavering much, then is th'instable wind,  
Which wandreth like the sun, from east to west,  
And when't comes there, then there it doth not rest.  
But roving runs up to the Starry Skies,  
And by and by unto the Deep it dives;  
And mounts again up to the highest air,  
But yet can find no firm fast footing there:  
For though it be even now at hand hereby;  
'tis gone again in th'twinkling of an eye:  
For 'tis so swift, as there is nothing can  
Force it to stay so long as man is man.  
Not much unlike unto that Noah's Dove,  
Which found no footing, but in th'Ark above.  
It flies aloft, and hovers in the air,  
To find that rest which cannot be found there.  
Except thou please vouchsafe to take it Lord,  
As thou hast promised by thy sacred word,  
For to safe keep all whom soever shall,  
Upon the name of our Lord Jesus call.  
Then bend you knees of my most wicked heart  
Which guideth all this the inferior part:  
And humbly pray, and pray, and pray again;  
And in that posture do thou still remain,  
Until our Saviour please thy suit to hear,  
And to thy prayers vouchsafe to turn his ear.  
And do not thou, if so, at this repine,  
That he hears not these sinful prayers of thine.  
For many causes (doubtless) there may be,  
That he as yet doth turn his ear from thee;  
And all of them of thee thyself arise:  
Who is at best but only worldly wise;  
And savours not the things that are above,  
Which do proceed from that good God of love.  
But diving downwards seldom or ne'er heeds,  
That allthings good, from heaven alone proceeds,  
And yet wilt thou unto the earth incline;  
Distasting things are spiritual and divine:  
And when thou seest its only real cause,  
It may be then, th'wilt stop and take a pause,  
And pray again; yet still thou sinful art,  
Extremely troubled with a double heart  
Which boat-man like doth seem to make a show  
Of looking upward, yet doth downward draw  
With all its force, unto this massy earth,  
Where it at first received its vital breath;  
And doth so clog the inward spiritual part:  
As it doth yield unto the wicked heart.  
And so they both are downward led away  
From thee their Saviour, and their only stay:  
And runs so fast down Zions steepy hill,  
As that to Babel needs these wretches will;  
Except thou please, sweet Jesus, lend thy hand,  
And force them both to stop and make a stand,  
And climb with speed up Zions hill again:  
Which cannot be without excessive pain  
Unto the heart, whose loins are stife and weak;  
And painful climb forceth them to break;  
Unless sweet Jesus, thou wilt please to be  
Their Comforter, in this extremity,  
And grant them strength that they may re-obtain  
The top of blessed Zions hill again.  
Then come sweet Jesus, I the humbly pray;  
Come quickly Lord and do thou make no stay;  
For the glass is now at point to be outrun.  
Then come Lord Jesus, come Lord Jesus come,  
And send my soul some speedy present aid;  
Or else, deer God, it merely is betrayed,  
By a fawning friend, who seems to make a show  
That he to it ent'rest love doth owe.  
And yet indeed its deadliest enemy,  
Who kills itself to make my soul to die.  
O help sweet Jesus, help, I humbly pray;  
My silly mind, from thee thus drawn away:  
By this foul flesh, that's foul in every part,  
Because it's governed by a fleshly heart,  
That domineers within my hollow breast;  
And will not let my silly mind take rest.  
For all my members, they do so combine,  
As that from heaven to earth they do incline:  
Yea, even the head, wherein is only placed  
The senses all, which neither live to taste,  
Nor hear, nor see, nor scent, nor yet to feel  
Aught what is good, but all whatsoever is ill.  
And th' apprehension it doth still project,  
Nothing that's good, but all things good neglect  
And memory it ever more forgets.  
These blessings great, and bounteous benefits,  
Which thou hast pleased in mercy heap on me  
(The very picture of base misery)  
Who cannot think so much as one good thought;  
But it is mixed with something which is nought  
Nor yet to press into the Lord's presence  
To pray for aught, without some great offence  
For then and there, I often plainly find,  
My mind is hurried, as if with the wind  
O'er all the earth, & well it knows not where.  
Nor matter's much, so as it be not there  
Where it should be; but always runs astray,  
Like to the blind man that hath lost his way,  
And is in danger ever for to fall  
Into a Ditch, where he doth lie and crawl,  
And cry for help; but if there be none by,  
The blind man's likely in the Ditch to lie.  
Then help sweet Jesus, help, I humbly pray,  
That this my wicked wand'ring mind may stay  
And fix on thee, and on thy grievous pain  
To bring it back, to that right way again:  
And being there, I humbly pray the Lord,  
Vouchsafe to bind it with strong Sampson's cord,  
When his hair was cut, that it may always stay  
And never more so gad and run astray;  
But ever keep within those blessed bounds,  
To think on thee, and on thy grievous wounds▪  
How thou endurd'st those bitter pains for me;  
Of all mankind, a wretch most unworthy:  
Except thou please vouchsafe give me a call,  
As thou didst Peter, or that blessed Saul,  
Who persecuted thee and them were thine:  
Yet at thy call did never once repine.  
But presently he at that call became  
A painful Preacher of thy sacred Name.  
Now call sweet Jesus, call, I humbly pray;  
That I from thee, in sin, no longer stay,  
But come and wash thy blessed feet with tears,  
Who hath freed me from all those horrid fears,  
Were justly due unto my stony heart;  
If it had had its only due desert:  
And then I hope my wearied soul shall rest,  
In thee alone, by whom 'tis only blest:  
And wait on thee at this thy loving call,  
Before that glorious heavenly Tribunal;  
Where Angels sing 'fore thee continually,  
The praises due to th' sacred Trinity.  
There thou my mind, do now set up thy rest;  
For therein shalt thou certainly be blest:  
And in that place be sure to spend thy life.  
And do not prove like Lot his foolish wife;  
But still aspire, to mount aloft my soul,  
That thou may'st be one in that blessed roll  
Of them are marked to follow th'holy Lamb  
Who for thy sins from highest heavens down come  
Then follow thou my soul, with speed I say  
And to thy Saviour, do thou always pray;  
That thou in him for evermore may live,  
And to his Name most worthy praises give,  
For all the goodness he hath given to thee;  
So far beyond thine own expectancy.  
For he hath freely given to thee much more  
Than erst was in thy wicked mind before  
To crave of him, then do thou sing his praise;  
And his great blessings do thou ever blaze  
O'er all the earth, that they may know and see  
The bounty great of the blessed Deity.  
To thee poor man who had a happy place  
In Paradise; but thy own want of grace,  
Did throw the thence, even unto the ground:  
Where thou received's that deadly mortal wound  
Which none can cure, but that the blessed Lord  
Himself, did freely of his own accord,  
Say he would send one of the woman's seed  
Should bruise & break the wily serpent's head;  
Which he performed in this his only Son  
Who from the heavens, down to this earth did come  
And there endured as thou by faith mayst see,  
The torments great (of right) were due to thee,  
In lieu whereof thy Saviour doth but crave  
That he thy heart to himself may only have.  
A poor requital for his grievous pain,  
Wherein he doth not seek for his own 'gain;  
But only thine: then do thou let him have,  
That is his own, which he doth only crave:  
●or he hath dearly purchased the same,  
Which all in darkness did till then remain;  
And into darkness shall again return:  
And in that darkness evermore shall burn;  
Except it please thy Saviour thence it call.  
For thou dost nought, but he alone dost all:  
For thou still dost as hereto thou hast done.  
Forsake both Father and his only Son,  
To gain a thing which is at best but loss:  
For fairest pleasures are (in substance) dross.  
And now being got, they are with th' wind now gone,  
So that the pleasure proveth to be none.  
Then fie fond man, thus to be drawn forsake  
Thy Saviour sweet, who freely did thee make  
To be capable of eternal bliss.  
Then do not thou give him a Judas kiss.  
For it was solely in his breast alone,  
To have made thee tree, or liveles stock or stone  
But he did breath upon thy slimy face,  
The breath of life, for which his bounteous grace  
Thou art bound to give him all whatso'r thou hast:  
Who in that posture thee (being earth) hath placed;  
Whereby thou now by faith mayst re-obtain,  
The place if thou hast grace in it t'remain,  
And in him trust, who hath so dear bought  
This place for thee; yet thou fond man dost nought  
But on this earth rest, & take thy delight  
And for a babble sell even all thy right  
And hope of heaven: O fie, most wicked, fie!  
That thou hat'st life, and lov'st so well to die;  
Was ever madman seen so far bereaved  
Of sense as thou, who hast thy soul bequeathed  
From him that bought it, and to thee it gave:  
Then give't again, that thou with him mayst have  
A blessed place, among that heavenly choir;  
Where all enjoy whatsoever they do desire:  
And more than so, for every one of them  
That dwells with him in that Jerusalem  
Are filled with joy, and so shall ever be,  
From time to time, for all eternity:  
To which they cannot with their wishes crave,  
What they do want, or what they do not have?  
O thither mount my mind, and do thou stay  
Thyself in that the best and happiest way;  
Which leads to life, where thou shalt surely see,  
The glorious face of the sacred Trinity;  
Without all fear, which ne'er yet any one  
But Moses did, and only he alone  
Was penned up close within the rocky cliff,  
And there was covered in that stony riff  
With Gods own hand, till he himself passed by:  
For none his face could ever see, but die.  
Then God withdrew his hand, and Moses he  
The hinder parts of this great God did see.  
O joy, that's far beyond all other joys!  
When thou behold's with these thy fleshly eyes,  
Even every part of the sacred Trinity:  
Which creature man, as yet, could never see.  
Stay there my mind, and do thou ruminate  
These heavenly joys which ne'er determinate;  
And only Saints and Angels do enjoy,  
Who are solely freed from all kind of annoy,  
And ever more in his glorious presence live;  
Who for thy sins his life did freely give:  
And yet doth he, but even desire thy heart  
In recompense of this his cruel smart.  
O that he should thus easily be content,  
To take again, what he hath only lent.  
And (yet vile) wretch, dost thou at this repine,  
So as thy heart doth daily still decline,  
From heaven to earth, & freely there complies  
With him, with whom there is none deals but dies.  
Then elevate my soul thyself again,  
And strive an Angels glorious place to obtain.  
For this a place of wicked warfare is;  
Where all must strive that care to come to bliss  
And that they conquer, than they may be sure  
To gain a crown of glory shall endure  
For evermore: and therefore do thou strive,  
And do not thou at thy wicked heart connive,  
Whose nature is to love this massy earth,  
Whereon at first received its vital breath.  
But do thou love the Lord thy God alone,  
And to him only do thou make thy moan;  
That he may please to elevate thy mind  
Up to the heavens, where thou art sure to find  
Thy Saviour sitting in his glorious throne,  
Who gladly hears all suits (denying none  
Are made to him) then do not thou delay,  
But fast and hearty to thy Saviour pray  
That he will please his spirit of grace thee send  
That thou thereby thy sinful life may mend;  
And do thou strive for to obtain that place  
Which none can have but only by his grace.  
Then lift thy heart up to the heavens, and say;  
Come sweet Lord Jesus, come Lord, I thee pray,  
And take my soul good God into thy hands  
To free it from all these sinful earthly bands,  
Which bind it strongly sore against it will,  
From what is good, to that is ever ill:  
Safe keep it Lord, I humbly thee require  
That it may have what is its soul desire,  
Which is to dwell in thee my heavenly king,  
And evermore thy worthy praises sing.  
Lord keep me there, than I am sure to live,  
And hearty thanks to thee shall ever give,  
For all thy goodness freely given to me,  
That am unworthy even to lift my eye  
Up to the heavens, the place where thou dost dwell,  
Whose wondrous works there is no tongue can tell:  
No not so much as th'wind which we do know  
Doth over our heads and on us daily blow;  
Yet cannot we with reason comprehend  
From whence thou dost it daily please to send;  
For he that seeks, or goeth about to find  
The cause thereof, shall surely lose his wind,  
And labour both; and therefore do thou see  
That thou submit whatsoever he doth, & thee,  
Unto the Lord, who made the heaven & earth,  
And all therein, even with his only breath.   

O stay my soul, and there do thou admire!  
The wondrous greatness of that flaming fire  
Appeared to Moses in the pillary cloud;  
Which did his chosen children Israel shrewd;  
Until their sins stirred up his heavy wrath:  
And then he did as now (of late) he hath  
Done to this I'll, wherein we wretched live,  
To whom his goodness did such blessings give;  
As never land on earth had more than we;  
And yet of peace we (wretched) cannot ' gree.  
So that, the son's against the father's set,  
And father he against the son doth fret;  
And brother 'gainst his brother often wars,  
And so will not let fall these woeful jars,  
Till God shall please that his most heavy hand  
For to withdraw from o'er this sinful land;  
And give us grace we may in hart repent  
And yield him thanks for his great blessings sent;  
Which we (unthankful) did as yet forget:  
And for that cause, each brother's blood is set  
Against itself, like as did wicked Cain,  
When as his brother Abel he had slain.  
Sweet Jesus please to stay this thy sharp sword,  
And stead thereof to send thy blessed word:  
That thou thereby mayst beat down growing sin  
The want whereof hath doubtless only been  
The real cause of this our mortal feud,  
which doubtless doth from our hard hearts proceed.  
Sweet Jesus please to mollify them so,  
Like Peter's when he solely wept for woe:  
Or like Manasses when he came be bound  
By Ashurs' host who fell upon the ground,  
And gained pardon for his grievous sin,  
Whereby with speed he was restored again  
To Judas crown, and it so long enjoyed  
Until by death he was from thence destroyed.  
Sweet Jesus grant that we have many such,  
And then without doubt, it will help us much  
To further peace, for which we daily pray,  
That thou wilt please in thy great mercy stay  
This sword of thine, and sheathe it up again;  
That we in peace may here hence now remain,  
And live like loving brothers in this land,  
Which thou hast kept with thine own powerful hand,  
From foreign foes, though now there be none such  
As we ourselves domestic ones by much.  
Sweet Jesus help, good Lord we daily pray,  
This bloody war of ours with speed to stay,  
And put us once in happy peace again,  
That we in peace may here hence now remain;  
And praise thy name, and that incessantly  
For giving us this bounteous great mercy;  
And this must thou, and only thou alone:  
Or else Lord Jesus, other there is none  
Can yield us help in this our greatest need:  
For now is nothing can stand us in steed,  
But only thou; then come Lord Jesus come:  
Or else dear God we are utterly all undone;  
For them elected to the public good  
With purging ill have bred in some ill blood;  
And th' weaker sex it is become so strong;  
'tis doubtful Lord the other sex to wrong,  
So as between two are esteemed extreme  
Most suffer much, though they retain the mean,  
For now there's no part of this wretched I'll,  
Tho it enjoyed a blessed peace ere while:  
But 'tis grown now unto a bloody war;  
For many a one thinks their honest neighbour far  
More quiet than he; and so with grief repines  
At's neighbour's good, and then his malice finds  
Some hole or other in his neighbour's coat  
Tho the quarrel be but for one single groat:  
To make complaint to them that are of power  
To plunder him by strong hand in an hour  
For some old wrong, as then but newly done,  
Perchance betwixt the Father and the Son.  
O blessed Lord that this the Germane plunder  
Which whilom was in peaceful England wonder  
Should now so well with us be understood,  
As any other usual English word;  
Whereby revenge in England's grown so rife,  
It tends to take away non-nocents life:  
For Satan o'er this Isle bears such a sway,  
As by his wiles he draweth many away  
From thee that is their only God and King,  
Who are rather bound thy worthy praises sing  
For all thy goodness to this woeful land,  
Tho now it feel thy dreadful heavy hand.  
Sweet Jesus send some blessed Angel down,  
To quell this hellish Satan's furious frown;  
And force him Lord, as thou was pleased then,  
When he made suit he might go into th' swine,  
Who huried him headlong into the sea:  
Lord, drown him there, that he ne'er more have power  
To come within this spacious Isle more;  
But we instead of blood may lie and groan  
In brinish tears, and therein make our moan  
To God on high, he will vouchsafe to please  
This cruel war of ours with peace to cease;  
And than that we who are true English all  
May all one way on the name of Jesus call.  
Vouchsafe good God, that we may so accord  
In holy service of that heavenly Lord:  
As though we differ some of us in part,  
Yet we may all as one agree in heart:  
And let our hearts good Lord in prayer remain,  
Lest in our sins we wretched may be slain.  
When worthies dare to stand, & look on death  
Tho with that look, they lose their dearest breath.  
Brave Britain's keep your ' forwon ancient fame  
Lest ancient terror turn to novel shame:  
And since your valour cannot well be known  
Until by you some valorous act be done:  
Then look your swords be sharp for foreign foe  
Whose joy's increased by our cause of wo's  
Lest we bewail this great efflux of blood  
When 'tis too late to do us any good;  
And worthies all in time for death prepare  
Since all in th'end shall fall unto death's share:  
But look you still prefer an honourable death  
Before a shameful beastly cowardly life:  
Seeing God alone the day of death doth know;  
But when or where, no earthly man can show.  
O then let's pray, and that incessantly  
To him that lives, and shall eternally.  
Come let us sing, and all due praises give  
To him that died, that we by him might live;  
And always yield praise to his holy name;  
Who was, is now, and ay shall be the same.  
O let us all with heart due praises sing,  
To this our God and glorious heavenly king;  
Whose dwelling is above the heavens most high  
Whereto the best of sinners come not nigh;  
Whose heavy judgement is for to descend:  
Since none come there but they who do ascend:  
Then strive my soul, and do thou aye aspire  
To keep thyself out of that irksome fire;  
Which burns, and yet there is no light appears  
But pain and grief, and dreadful horrid fears.  
Sweet Jesus please to keep my soul from hence  
And draw it up to th'high'st heavens that thence  
I may have help; for without help from thee,  
There is no comfort in extremity:  
Then teach me Lord with heart & mouth to pray  
That I in thee may ever live and stay;  
And never more so wander up and down  
From place to place, as I poor wretch have done  
Sweet Jesus please to keep my soul with thee,  
Or else dear God, I am sure it cannot be  
Kept safe on earth where that fierce dragon flies,  
And doth so dazzle most of all men's eyes,  
As few are able to behold the sun,  
Except it please the blessed Lord to come  
And clear their sight, that they with joy may see  
There is no safety, but O Lord in thee.  
Then come Lord Jesus, I thee humbly pray  
And make my soul with thee to live and stay;  
Or else good God, I can it no where hid;  
Nor here on earth it cannot long abide,  
Within this fleshly mansion of mine,  
Whereon the sun hath never power to shine  
But by thy leave, then let it Lord so be  
That this thy sun may please to shine on me;  
And shield me safe from that common enemy,  
Who doth envy both thee and them are thine;  
From whom good God be pleased keep me and mine,  
We do not prove like to the Gadarens,  
Forsake our Saviour for to save our means:  
But teach us Lord that we may call to mind,  
How 'fore all worlds thou said and so assigned  
That man should spend his life-time on this earth  
Where he at first received his vital breath  
And there should serve his maker God & Lord;  
As is appointed in his holy Word.  
That when this glass on earth shall be outrun  
Then doth an end (of all created) come;  
And one land then against another rise,  
And all men also arms shall exercise:  
And yet as then shall sorrows but begin.  
To them are clogged with their deadly sin:  
For on this earth must be great tribulation  
Before that dreadful day of desolation;  
When shall the glorious sun all darkened be,  
And eke the moon, at that day none may see;  
And th●●e bright stars down from the sky shall fall  
And powers of heaven shall then be shaken all  
Whereof our cannons thundering in the air  
With fiery flashes flaming out their fire  
Which sends its smoke up to the starry skies  
And not unlike to mighty clouds there flies;  
And trumpets echo sounding every where,  
So as no place with us is thereof clear,  
Are perfect types of that most dismal day,  
When th' trump shall sound & loudly call away  
All souls on earth their bodies for to take;  
And 'fore the Lamb a perfect reckoning make  
Of each man's talon, which the Lord them lent,  
And for which cause they all were hither sent.  
And then there shall be loud and hideous cries  
For hills to fall and cover them from th' eyes  
Of him that doth both see and knoweth all  
That on this earth was done or did befall  
Since Adam's time; for there is nothing can  
Be hid from him that first did make this (man);  
No not the secrets of the best man's heart,  
Tho he the same did ne'er as yet impart  
To any creature; for Jehovah he  
Doth all things know & eke doth all things see,  
This son of man whose glory shall appear  
Above the clouds of heaven up in the air;  
Whose glorious greatness than shall all men see  
With thousand millions in his company,  
Who shall collect from all these the four winds  
Whom s're have been, even so as he them finds;  
And then laid  shall be a perfect Book  
Wherein all flesh shall freely thereon look  
And each one see as it were in a glass  
His guilty conscience telling what he was?  
And then shall he set th'sheep on his right hand  
And keep his left side for the goatish band.  
And then the King shall say unto the sheep,  
Come now and take the kingdom I do keep  
For you that are the blessed of the Lord  
Who willingly obeyed and heard his word:  
And to the wicked, than the King shall say,  
Go ye accursed, and be you a pray  
Unto the fire, which is in hell prepared  
For cursed Satan, and his hellish guard.   

O horrid fear, beyond all other fears;  
Whose force even plainly in the face appears,  
Which sends its blood unto the secret heart,  
Who calls for help from every other part;  
And leave the loins supporting so appalled:  
Like as if death on sudden had them called;  
And thereby they are all so sore astoned,  
As that they fall down flat upon the ground;  
Where they do differ nought from fearful death  
But that as yet appears a parcel breath,  
Which for a while a little life retains;  
And in that passion deathlike it remains;  
Until it please the King our blessed Lord  
To say to me that comfortable word;  
Come now thou blessed, hear O do thou hear,  
What difference great between this joy & fear;  
To the right-hand men, come, o come you blessed  
And to the left hand, go, o go you cursed:  
O joy beyond all other heavenly joys,  
Which freeth the heart from all kind of anoys,  
And is thereby so fully filled with gladness  
That it expels from every part all sadness  
And forceth them which even now fell astoned  
To leap for joy and skip above the ground:  
And though with fear of late they looked like death  
Yet now with joy they're filled with store of breath,  
And those parts which with sorrow than were dumb  
Do now aloud (with joy) cry come Lord come,  
O come sweet Jesus, I thee humbly pray,  
Vouchsafe be pleased in my weak heart stay,  
And strengthened so, as it may ever stand;  
One of the blessed which are at thy right hand,  
That I may there thy praises ever sing,  
Which o'er the earth & all the heavens do ring.  
O sing my soul, and be thou never weary,  
But in thy Saviour be thou always merry;  
And have a care no earthly joy remove  
Thy fleshly heart from th'heavenly joy above:  
But therein always do thou take delight,  
And in it spend thy time both day and night.  
O let thy solace ever be therein,  
And it will keep thee from all deadly sin;  
And teach thee loath all earthly things to love  
And take delight in serving God above.  
O love him love him, that thou dead mayst live  
And to thy Saviour be thou sure to give,  
All that which he hath freely given to thee:  
And then shalt thou no doubt his servant be.  
O blessed Lord, where have I this while been;  
Hath not my soul my sweetest Saviour seen:  
Or, 'tis some vision did to me appear,  
Whereby it hath discovered (plainly) where  
My Saviour sitteth in his glorious throne,  
And judgeth all on earth, himself alone;  
And there pronounceth sentence (come or go)  
The only words of greatest joy or woe  
That ever came to any creatures ear,  
To make a difference betwixt joy and fear.  
And then shall sheep and goats, both of them see  
What they have been, and what they now shall be.  
And This sort shall of future hope despair,  
Any that other not so much as have a care  
For their downfall, but aye shall sit and sing,  
Even allelua to our heavenly king:  
Whose final sentence and pronounced decree;  
Shall firmly stand for all eternity:  
From which herehence there can be no appeal,  
But all must then have either woe or weal.  
O stay my soul a while and contemplate,  
How far the cursed goats are separate  
From the blessed sheep, who ever sit and sing  
In th' glorious heaven the praises of their king;  
But they from thence are headlong thrown away  
Down to hell pit, & therein made a prey  
To th' ugly fiends, whose cheerful office is  
For to deprave them of all heavenly bliss.  
O let this horrid fearful sentence move  
Thy soul to elevate itself above,  
Up to the highest heavens, and there upon  
Spend thou some time in deep contemplation:  
And then no doubt to thee it will appear  
What difference great between this joy and fear  
O have a care that these two ne'er departed;  
But always keep them close within thy heart,  
And think upon them seriously day and night,  
And they will teach thee keep thy way aright:  
Forget them not when thou art in thy bed,  
For they will cure a sick and troubled head  
From all its grief, and further more than so,  
They'll keep thee free from all eternal woe,  
And be a means to bring thee to that bliss,  
Whereas no doubt, but thy dead father is.  
Stay there a while my soul, and do not range,  
To think the things, whose nature may be strange  
Or which to these two are impertinent,  
Lest they may prove to alter the intent  
Of gaining that which is the souls desire,  
To keep thee free from th' deep infernal fire,  
That Tophet which God hath prepared of old,  
Both deep and large, that it may sinners hold  
The fuel wood which doth maintain that fire,  
By great Jehovah, kindled in his ire  
By th' only breath which from this great God cometh,  
And with fierce brimstone like a river runneth,  
The strange effects whereof some say are such,  
As differs far from all other fire in much;  
For this we're sure its nature's extreme hot,  
There's some do hold the fire of hell is not:  
This comforts like the Sun from Sion's hill,  
But that burns souls who yet with cold are chill  
This we do see doth cast a glorious light,  
The fire of hell more dark than darkest night.  
Though this be hot we can away from't turn,  
But in that other sinners ever burn:  
This fire on earth with water may be quenched  
But that in hell not with the sea though drenched.  
The fuel here in time consumes away  
But that in hell it never doth decay:  
Here we receive great comfort by this fire,  
But they in hell have nought they do desire,  
All Dives wealth not worth one water drop;  
Nor all on earth procure for meat one sop,  
There souls desires are ay insatiate,  
Without all ease, though ne'er so moderate;  
There rules revenge with ireful anger raging,  
Without all hope even of the least assuaging.  
Here souls are free from bodies greatest pain;  
But there the souls in torments aye remain.  
Here greatest griefs are not without some ease;  
There the torments rage doth never cease.  
Here each sense hath its own particular grief;  
There all do suffer without the least relief:  
All sinful souls are very sensible,  
There is no light in't which is visible;  
But think black darkness doth appear to th' eye,  
And so shall do for all eternity.  
Here all created shall in time decay;  
But them in hell shall therein live for ay:  
Death here's a salve for every kind of sore;  
But they doth life torment still more & more.  
Here we desire to live, and yet we cannot,  
But there to die, yet so decreed we may not.  
Make use of this my soul, and fly from hence  
Up to the heavens and take thy recompense,  
For all thy service to thy Saviour done,  
When thou with bread didst feed the hungry one  
The naked cloth, and eke thy neighbour love  
Then thou didst please thy Saviour, God above  
Whose will is such, that thou shouldst ever do,  
So as thyself desir'st be done unto:  
Then do so still, and it will keep them free  
From future woe for all eternity:  
Here stay a while my soul, and think of this  
What difference great between sad lore & bliss  
And do reflect at present on thyself,  
Who whilom was in good and perfect health,  
And thy girt loins were all so firm and strong  
As they presume, that nought could do them wrong,  
But leading out a sullen skittish Jade  
Tho having such provision therefore made,  
As in man's judgement I was safe and free  
From any danger of indemnity,  
When suddenly the horse did run about,  
And with a fall my right hip he put out,  
And I in danger was most imminent  
To have had each part from one another rent  
But that a stranger haply coming by,  
Led by God's spirit chancing me to spy.  
God made a means whereby me to preserve  
From sudden death which I did well deserve,  
But that the Lord was pleased to give to me  
A longer time, that I my sins might see,  
And that of them I should in heart repent,  
Which no doubt was the only cause he sent  
Me help from heaven and cured my heart again  
But wretched I did still in sin remain,  
Forgetting also this his mercy great,  
Tho carefully his Judgement did me threat,  
Presuming still that he would always be,  
As formerly he had been unto me,  
Even heaping blessings upon blessings still,  
Tho sinful I, did yet neglect his will;  
and after that well nigh about a year,  
Forgetting this, my gracious God to fear,  
And being secure, as then was in my thought  
From any danger could to me be brought:  
When suddenly did my most gentle horse  
Give me a fall, which proved to me much worse  
than th' other was, and also danger more,  
But that God did as he had done before  
With th' second fall disjoint my other hip,  
When 'twas more danger with that suden skip  
T' have broke my neck, but that my gracious God  
Did in his mercy with his gentle rod  
Me so correct as he before had done,  
To try if I would yet unto him come,  
And lest I should again now fall away  
(As I had done) he forceth me to stay,  
And in a room my body doth confine,  
Yet sends his Son with comfort on't to shine,  
For day and night I have therein a fire,  
And all things else I do in heart desire;  
So as if now I shall again neglect  
My gracious God, who doth me thus respect  
And be so still, as I have hereto been,  
Sleeping securely in all deadly sin.  
Unmindful also of his great blessings  
In sparing me, and eke long sufferings,  
And all things else whatsoever befitting life,  
A loyal loving, and a gentle wife,  
And many children which are dutiful,  
Obedient all, and also most thankful,  
All of them able, and most willing be  
T' afford all kindness freely unto me,  
So as my conscience telleth me now plain,  
If I shall fall from this good God again,  
I do deserve far worse than Sodom ever did,  
In the dead sea for to be drowned and hid,  
And to the world a common by word be,  
There in that sea lies justly drowned he  
Was so ungrateful to his gracious God,  
Who did instead of his most heavy rod  
Power blessings upon blessings even far more  
Than erst was in my heart that time before  
To ask of him O thou hard stony heart  
That's flinty grown in every sev●rall part,  
Harder by much than th' hardest marble made,  
Which neither gifts, nor any threats invade,  
Nor yet those judgement's God hath justly sent  
On sinners such as did not then repent:  
So as my sin in justice now doth call  
For vengeance great on me vile wretch to fall,  
And if his mercy were not even much more,  
And all his other Attributes before,  
I do deserve in every minute's space,  
To be cast out from off the massy face  
Of this his earth whereon he hath me set,  
To serve my God, whom I do still forget  
For every part of mine is set to sin,  
And no part's free, but every several limb  
Doth smite with these my wicked sinful heart,  
And each one doth perform his utmost part  
To further sin, for when did wretched I  
Speak many words, which were without some lie  
How often did I think but any thought,  
Which had not in it something which was nought  
Yea often tending unto murder much,  
Revenge or envy, or some else was such,  
As malice, lust, and other sin what not?  
When as my Saviour's sufferings are forgot,  
Then presently the wicked enemies in,  
And every several part procures to sin  
Until he please to let some Angel come,  
And thrust this legion out his wont room:  
Sweet Jesus bind him, bind him blessed Lord,  
As thou hast promised by thy sacred word,  
From all temptation for to keep them free  
Who in tentation heartily come to thee.  
Now take me Lord, & it please me safe to keep  
Who for my sins have justly cause to weep  
For Satan's self yet still deludeth me,  
By trusting him my utter enemy,  
Who draweth me to do whats're is ill,  
That he by it my silly soul may spill,  
Except thou please; good God vouchsafe me send  
Some help from heaven, and further to me lend  
Thy holy spirit that it may comfort me,  
In this the greatest of extremity;  
For he hath hereto had on me such power,  
As he hath drawn me from thee every hour:  
Vouchsafe good Lord, be pleased take him away  
That he do ne'er o'ercome my longer stay  
From thee my God, my helper and my King,  
But that here hence I may for ever sing  
Thy worthy praise for all thy blessings sent,  
And by thy help my sinful life repent,  
For without thee sweet Jesus I am nought,  
Since Satan he hath me and mine so wrought  
As that no part thereof good Lord is free  
From his most sleightfull guileful gullery.  
Help Lord, help Lord, I on my knees do pray,  
And keep me free from out this satins way,  
For where thou art good Lord, there dare not, he  
Once to come near, nor in thy sight to be.  
Sweet Jesus please, vouchsafe to keep me there,  
That crafty Satan never come me near,  
For if he shall, I know I have no power  
Within myself to shut him out of door,  
Except thou please good God the porter be,  
And then away all hellish fiends will flee;  
For th' house that's built upon that stable rock  
Will bide all floods, and subtle Satan's shock,  
But mine is built upon the slippery sand,  
Which either must be kept by Gods own hand  
Or else it shakes with every rising flood  
Because th' foundation of it is not good,  
Sweet Jesus please to set this house of mine  
Upon that rock where it may stand and shine,  
And 'bide all floods, whats're against it beat,  
And ever force them from it to retreat.  
Here stay my soul upon this firm set rock,  
Where thou art free from wicked Satan's shock  
And recollect thyself with joy and go  
To th' Saviour sweet who suffered so much woe,  
To bring thee back to that most happy place,  
Where thou mayst live, if endued with grace.  
My wand'ring thoughts be pleased good Lord to stay,  
That they from henceforth never from thee stray  
But always rest in thee both day & night,  
And evermore therein take their delight;  
Sweet Jesus let them never wavering run,  
From place to place as hereto they have done,  
But be thou pleased good God the mark to be,  
Whereat my thoughts may aim continually  
And though some times they do both rove & room,  
Vouchsafe good Lord to be their only home,  
For they in thee good God are only blest,  
And out of thee they're sure to have no rest,  
For they are boundless ever when they stray  
From thee their God, their comfort & their stay  
Then thou my soul be sure build there thy nest  
And let him build within thy bony breast,  
Whose presence onely's able to expel  
Even all the fiends that do belong to hell,  
O do thou make much of that blessed guest,  
And always love to have him in thy breast,  
O bid him welcome there with all thy heart,  
And then be sure, that thou shalt have a part,  
And comfort great in his bitter sufferings  
The very chiefest of those great blessings,  
Which he so freely hath bestowed on thee;  
Until this time from thy very infancy.  
O yield him thanks, for they are well deserved  
'tis he alone, who hath thy life preserved;  
And saved the wretch from that eternal death,  
Was due to thee, with th' first received breath.  
O do not thou so much neglect him then,  
Who these great blessings gave unto thee, when  
Thou knewest not from whence this goodness came  
But that his bounty was to thee the same  
That formerly it hath for ever been:  
Tho thou didst live so long in mortal sin:  
Now then repent, and do no longer stay;  
For there's no greater danger than delay,  
And that's all th' hope the cruel enemy hath,  
To bring thy soul unto eternal death:  
For all his other cunning gulleries seen:  
And no delay by him doth intervene,  
To keep thee still within his hellish power,  
Who's danger's great, though it be but for 1. hour  
O fly fond man, O fly and do not thou  
Delude thyself, and unto Baal bow,  
Who seeks thy ruin and thy overthrow  
By this delusion, which is now delay:  
Whereby thine own heart doth itself bewray  
That thou art guilty of that horrid sin,  
Whereto thy conscience hath as yet not been  
Consenting, but hast even most wilfully  
Forsaken him, who did for thee so die.  
O what a fearful horrid thing is this?  
To sell all hope of that eternal bliss,  
For less by far than Esau got for his.  
Stay there my soul and deeply contemplate  
In what great danger now is thy estate;  
Whereon dependeth thine eternal bliss,  
Or else the loss of all true happiness:  
And think how thou thy time on earth hast spent,  
Which doubtless God hath only to thee lent;  
That thou in's service it should solely spend,  
Since he ordained it for no other end.  
And see how much thereof's already gone:  
And how much now at most can be to come.  
And how that's spent which is already past:  
By which thou'lt have a good and perfect taste,  
How much of it is drowned and gone in sleep;  
And what thou didst for sinful pleasure keep:  
And what in deadly sin by thee committed:  
What in good deeds by thee likewise omitted:  
And then I fear that thou wilt quickly find,  
Thou hast misspent this time was so assigned  
For th' only service of thy Saviour;  
Whose part, I fear, will prove but very poor.  
Then think how now to call this time again,  
Which wretched thou hast spent so long in vain  
And what years yet are left to thee behind,  
Wherein be sure thy sins must be redeemed;  
And than th'wilt see that it will well appear  
there's hardly one week left for one whole year  
Tho God should please to thee so many send,  
As he to most men doth not use to lend.  
Then call to mind what now is to be done;  
When as thy days are almost all outrun.  
And what is passed already spent in sin;  
So thou art still but how for to begin;  
To serve thy God, and also to repent;  
And yield him thanks for his great blessings sent  
And satisfaction must be likewise made  
Before all debts by thee be duly paid.  
O than my soul cast up a perfect count,  
To what a sum thy several sins will mount;  
And what is also due for them (of right)  
Before thy soul can enter into light;  
And than thy heart will bleed within for woe  
And eyes with sorrow than will overflow  
With brinish floods of tears for to regain  
This time of thine, which thou hast spent in vain:  
And think what now there is, which must be done,  
And how long time can be for it to come,  
And then thy heart will certaintly relent  
Which hitherto could ne'er find time repent:  
Or if it did, 'twas by and by even done,  
With the first occasion that did offer come:  
So as in me, there's nothing that is good,  
Or thereunto of any likelihood;  
To keep me there where I desire to be,  
With thee alone dear God alone with thee,  
Sweet Jesus please to call and call again,  
That I in thee may evermore remain;  
And think how I my time have lew'dly spent,  
And then there's hope (if so) I may repent.    


But come Lord Jesus come, I humbly pray,  
That I in thee may ever live and stay,  
And evermore thy worthy praises sing  
Of thee my God, my hope and heavenly king.  
And in thy service ever take delight;  
And therein spend my time both day & night.  
Bide there my soul, and call again to mind,  
How much there's yet left of thy life behind;  
And think how Judas did himself repent,  
And yet to hell (no doubt) was Judas sent.  
And do not thou my soul conceive it so,  
That short repentance can keep thee from woe:  
For thou that all thy life time hast now spent,  
In Satan's service with thy hearts content:  
Canst thou conceive that one hours' time shall pay  
For many years, which thou hast gone astray.  
O do not thou my soul presume that he  
Who hath spent all his time on earth in glee;  
And following this vile wicked world wherein  
He hath known nothing but was wicked sin;  
Shall leap from hell, as though indeed it were  
A thing of nothing for to get out there;  
And thence above the highest heavens to fly  
As if all parts were either thought or eye,  
And if they were yet thou dost know a Lake  
Which Dives was not able to overtake;  
But thou wilt say, that that most blessed thief  
Did obtain heaven by his but short belief.  
'tis true indeed, yet know that he's but one  
Because God's pleasure was that there should none  
Presume too far, nor yet have cause despair;  
Yet doubtless they in most great danger are,  
Who do defer this great account to make  
Before the hour that God's about to take  
The soul from out the fleshly corpse, and then  
Thou'lt make a show like to the best of men;  
And promise fair, but search thy heart and see,  
If thou canst find the thief's true faith in thee;  
Or if it were, that was a time of wonder,  
When all the earth was in a kind of blunder.  
Or, if thou hast that king Manasses grief  
For his offence, examine thy belief,  
If such, there's hope, thou may'st thy Saviour win  
(So thou repent) for to remit thy sin:  
But have a care (my soul) not to delay  
This reckoning till that doleful day:  
For be assured that great accounts  
Must have great time to cast them up;  
And therefore thou my silly soul be sure  
Thou do not now delay the present cure,  
Of this thy wound which doubtless mortal is;  
But that thy Saviour promised heavenly bliss  
To all of them that with the Bridegroom come;  
Yet want of oil, thou knowst, did shut out some  
And he that did in ground his talon hid,  
I am afraid did not the reckoning bide.  
O dear my soul, have care make use of such;  
And then no doubt 'twil help thy reckoning much  
And do not thou as traitor Judas did  
Despair of grace, and so his talon hid;  
Nor do not thou presume of the blessed thief,  
Lest thou can't show the blessed thief's belief  
But do thou do as good Manasses did;  
Or like to him that other king David,  
Who wept with grief, and on the ground did lie  
And to their Saviour made such earnest cry,  
That he them hard and granted to them all  
For whatsoe'er they in their hearts did call.  
O follow, follow, these wise kings my heart;  
And to this good God, thou thy grief impart:  
Importune him with thy loud earnest cry;  
And then fear not thy suit he ' l not deny;  
Make thou good use of these two godly kings,  
For uses good, are ever goodly things:  
Examples always are before us set,  
Of what is good, that they may good beget,  
And what is ill, that we may ill forsake:  
And so of all things we may good use make.  
O thou my soul, make some stay here a while,  
And walk along with these two kings a mile;  
Thou'lt find they were most grievous sinners both;  
Yet both became their grievous sins to loath:  
Fellow their steps, and thou shalt surely find,  
In them a mirror of a godly mind;  
For God himself did to the world impart,  
Th'one was a man according Gods own heart;  
Then follow him, yet do not follow in all;  
For fear of this, lest in thy sin thou fall;  
And being in it cannot rise again  
And then thou art sure thou shalt therein be slain.  
in that thy sin, but have a care take  
His better part, and it will ever make  
Thee love thy Lord with a most joyful heart;  
And with thy soul, and every other part:  
And each of them shall with the rest comply;  
Then all will join to love the Deity,  
And in his service take their chief delight,  
And therein spend their time both day & night  
O do thou love to live as David did;  
For though his sins were such could not be hid:  
Yet he did so repent him of the same,  
As kept him free from all eternal blame,  
And brought him back to enjoy that hapybliss  
Where (without doubt) his blessed soul now is.  
Then do thou strive to follow this good king;  
And he will teach thee how that thou should sing  
His songs are sweet, then do thou use them oft,  
For they will make thy soul to mount a loft.  
Then sing my soul, and now lets jovial be,  
Because here's now choice of good company:  
And keep thee always with such company still,  
Yet eschew none but them are counted ill,  
Seeing such are aye the very worst of men,  
For they will draw the soul to sin even then,  
When better thoughts are musing in thy mind  
Then do but mark and thou shalt surely find  
In such no good, and further thou shalt see  
Abundant harms come of ill company:  
But yet when such cannot be well eschewed,  
By their example be thou then renewed  
Unto thy former thought of God again,  
And by that means, let all that's ill remain,  
And so there may good use be made of ill,  
My soul have care that thou observe this still  
And if thou intent for to retain this good,  
Then go aside, that thou mayst chew the cud,  
For meat in stomach will not well digest,  
If it be not chewed, before it come in breast:  
Then think good thoughts, and be thou thinking oft,  
For they will make thy heart within thee soft;  
Such jaculations thou my soul may'st use  
Here on this earth, where most of men do muse  
On earthly things, and all their chiefest care,  
Is how to spend, and sometimes how to spare,  
Yet not their time, but even their worldly wealth,  
And oftentimes it tends not to their health,  
Here stay my heart, and make good use of this,  
And it may help to bring thy soul to bliss,  
For all such meats, as do not th' palate please  
Go seldom down the throat with any ease,  
And now me think I hear thee say thou fears  
That God will not be moved with thy tears,  
And that thou hast not time sufficient,  
Wherein thou mayst thy sinful life repent,  
For that thy sins are grown to such a height  
As they're become even numberless for weight,  
And they are still increased every day,  
So as from sin I wretched cannot stay,  
For all my thoughts are such my sin increase,  
And they from ranging cannot be made cease  
For they ne'er rest upon one stable theme,  
But when I sleep, than they do wake and dream  
And though I do ned affect this augurism,  
Because it tendeth plainly unto augurism:  
Yet do I think I have not so esteemed  
Of all strange things whereon I often dreamt,  
As they deserve to have place in my mind,  
For by observance I do in them find  
There is good use if it be well applied  
By him desires in God he may abide;  
For I perceive my thoughts in sleeping such,  
As do not differ from my waking much,  
For then even then, when I do what I can,  
They'll not be guided by this fleshly man,  
Do but observe when two or three are met,  
And for to make a meal of meat are set,  
How many severals they will treat upon,  
Yet ne'er a word of Jesus passion,  
Beside some wand'ring thoughts are then not uttered  
But in each breast in private there's smothered,  
which to set down would doubtless troublesome been  
To one in that of memory were well seen  
So as I see my thoughts are without end,  
Till God shall please some bounders to them send  
As well in day time, as in deepest sleep,  
Except it please our Saviour them to keep,  
Who's only knowing whatsoe'er is thought,  
Or into mind, or day or night is brought,  
And doubtless he doth sometimes them direct,  
That they might us from death or such protect  
If we were able but to apprehend  
The secrets which such dreams do comprehend  
For Pharaoh's servants their dreams sure were such  
As in man's judgement did not differ much  
Yet did Jehovah put in joseph's heart,  
The truth to either of their dreams impart,  
So as the Butler was restored again,  
And th' Baker he was put to hanging pain,  
And Pharaoh's dreams could no soothsayer expound,  
Yet Joseph did, though th' mystery were profound;  
And joseph's own dreams, he being yet but young  
Did God ordain his father's life prolong:  
And pilate's wife was certainly inspired,  
If Pilate had his help from heaven required,  
For though expounding be not in man's power,  
Without the help of our blessed Saviour;  
Yet doubtless he that doth observe but well  
May by his dreams be able somethings tell,  
Whereby he can conceive the cause t' be such  
As in this pilgrimage his journey may help much  
For though that I in breast do often find  
Dreams are much differing from my inward mind  
Yet I conceive I may of them make use  
And such as shall God's service not abuse,  
If I have but that heavenly happy grace,  
For to retain some better in their place,  
For I perceive observance may be such,  
As that the use may make or mar all much,  
Since whilom I have of my hunting dreamt,  
Whereby I saw, I hunting more esteemed  
Then fitting was, when I considered well  
That such excess did draw down towards hell;  
And sometimes other pleasures have so pleased  
As in my dreams my heart was thereby eased;  
Yet when I see what was thereof the end;  
And knew it was the enemy did them send;  
I then begun to check my idle thought,  
And call to mind why they to me were brought  
Sometimes I see that in my sleeping dreams  
I'm drawn away by some strange idle themes;  
And then awaked begin to call to mind,  
How such vain toys I in my head should find.  
When my desire is that some better thought  
Should by the spirit of God to me be brought;  
And for that purpose then begin to pray,  
That God will please these wand'ring thoughts to stay;  
And settle them upon his only Son,  
Till he vouchsafe to let his kingdom come.  
Sometimes my dreams they are of better things;  
Yet not so good, as that which Angels sings:  
And then for them, I give my God the praise  
That he was pleased my thoughts so highly raise  
In hope thereby I might receive some good;  
Because of its retaining likelihood.  
I often dream of things I cannot think,  
Why they should come into my brain to sink;  
And some which I did never hear before,  
Nor can of them remember any more,  
When they have once past through my fickle mind,  
They often leave not any tract behind.  
So as I see by that my sins bide still;  
Yea though it be even much against my will:  
For sure my soul desires partake of bliss;  
And to be there where my sweet Saviour is:  
Yet still within my clay breast I find,  
Somethings averse unto my inward mind.  
So I observe it is not in my power  
Them to restrain, no not for one half hour;  
Nor keep them there, where I wish they should be,  
Which is dear God with thee deer God with thee  
Except thou please good Lord to keep them so,  
As they shall never here hence from thee go.  
Then keep me Lord, & shield me with thy wing  
That under it I may thy praises sing:  
For out of thee good God, there is no rest;  
Nor any safety in my fleshly breast;  
For flesh and blood cannot in them contain  
The thoughts are hourly hatched in my brain,  
Which rovening run and reel from side to side;  
And on no good thing they'll be drawn abide.  
Sweet Jesus please to bounder them in thee;  
Or else they'll not be boundered for me,  
But wander often quite without my reach;  
Which sometime causeth in my soul a breach;  
For that by force I cannot them retain,  
That they in thee might evermore remain:  
Call them good Lord, and do them firmly bind  
That I may know with thee I shall them find.  
For no occasion ever comes amiss  
To draw my mind from th' heavenly king of bliss.  
O glorious king, vouchsafe it so command,  
My thoughts b guided by thine own ●ight hand  
For it alone most either make them stay  
Or else good God they'll not b drawn obey,  
My silly soul within me drooping lies;  
And without help good Lord in hell it dies.  
Then help Lord help & let help come with speed  
To rouse this soul that li●th with gri●f half dead  
And of its health it justly might despair,  
But that it knows my Saviour is so near.  
Yea nearer much than th'heart' of man can ween,  
But that his wonders have on earth been seen,  
To save his chosen elect children all;  
When in red Sea did wicked Pharaoh fall,  
With all his host, and yet did Gods own hand  
Bring his elected safely to the land,  
Whose way was after guided by a cloud,  
And hunger stayed by heavenly Angels food  
In th' wilderness, where they did ●eel no cold,  
Nor yet their  did wear or waxed old;  
And had a river brought out o● the rock,  
In great abundance with a little knock:  
An Angel ever guiding them their way,  
From all annoy, wheresoever God le●s'd they stay  
And when o'er all the face of earth was night,  
Then did the cloud afford to them good light;  
And yet even they for who's own only sake,  
That great Jehovah did these wonders make,  
Which they beheld with their own fleshly eyes:  
And many more as great besides all these  
Did they forget to bear them in their mind,  
Tho in their breasts they might them easily find  
Whereof they were themselves eye witnesses.  
Yet when the Lord did but a while leave these,  
Tho they were these the chosen and elect,  
Whom he alone did to himself select,  
Even them that were the seed of Israel,  
'Gainst this good God did trait'rously rebel,  
And foully too from him did fall away,  
Who was their sole preserver and their stay,  
Unto a God which their own hands did make,  
And this their kind and loving Lord forsake.  
O stay my soul with ravishment admire,  
That God sent not from heaven consuming fire  
To burn them all from off the face of earth;  
Whose horrid sins deserved horrid death;  
Yet did this good Lord this vile deed forgive,  
And on repentance suffer them to live,  
And all those blessings they do still enjoy,  
Whereby he freed them from all kind annoy.  
O think, O think, and do thou think again,  
What weakness did in these weak men remain,  
Who left their God, and that so suddenly  
When he left them awhile their strength to try.  
May it be possible that there 's any can  
Conceive such weakness in this creature man  
Whom God was pleased, so far before the rest,  
Of all he made this man hath only blest,  
With a precious soul, in some is reasonable,  
Thou of itself, itself is far unable  
To guide itself by that its reason's power,  
If God shall please to leave it one half hour.  
Were these that seed the chosen of the Lord,  
Who said his wonders also heard his word,  
And all of them in compass of their sight;  
Yea more apparent than the sun so bright,  
Lest that impression in their inward mind,  
Can not be hid, but Satan made them blind;  
For mortal eyes can have no power of sight,  
When God's away by whom they have their light  
Since that the serpent he did make them so,  
As of themselves nothing that's good they know  
And what is ill they ever like and love,  
But all that's good it comes from God above.  
Now rest my soul and keep the ever there,  
Where thou art freed from all this worldly care  
And of his wonders do thou contemplate,  
Who doth thee thus poor soul illuminate  
With these good thoughts, Odo thou them retain  
And let them always with thee st●l remain  
For they will banish those ●hy thoughts are ill,  
Which often use restrain thee of thy will;  
And bring thee this great God and Lord to love  
Who sends all good things from the heaven above  
And doth them likewise plenteously bestow  
On such as are his servants here below,  
Than drooping soul do thou in me revive:  
Now rouse thyself, and do begin to live,  
For with Gods help thou mayst safely say  
That cheerful hope hath driven despair away.  
Then put thy trust in him alone that lives,  
And able is and also freely gives,  
Even all good things unto all them that crave,  
And do desire of him good things to have;  
Then fast and pray my soul and do repent,  
And give God thanks for his great blessings sent  
And then of mercy the deepest sinners sure  
For that his mercy doth for aye endure,  
From age to age to all of them believe  
That he for them his dearest life did give:  
Make use of this his bounteous great mercy  
Bestowed on them deserved well to die,  
Besides the blessings he them freely gave,  
The like whereof no other Nation have,  
Nor ever had, but only them alone;  
For he such blessings ever gave to none:  
Besides his wonders they did daily see,  
For to preserve them from indemnity:  
And yet from him ungrateful these did fall  
And worshipped worse than that th'painted wall  
And wilfully this gracious God forsake,  
Who lovingly did them in mercy take  
From danger great, which was most desperate;  
But that their God himself besides them sat.  
Then live by hope and do thou leave to fear,  
Since God no doubt is all his servants near  
That trust in him, then faithfully do so  
My soul, and live, and to him freely go.  
But stagger not my soul, nor do not shrink  
As Peter did for fear that he should sink.  
When Christ his Master walked on the Sea,  
Whom his Disciples did afar off see;  
And Peter prayed him that he might do so,  
Then God him called, and willed him so to do.  
With that did Peter leap out of the boat,  
And walked along aloft the Sea●on foot,  
Until the wind did cause a little wave;  
And then cried Peter, good Lord do me save:  
To whom did Jesus then put forth his hand,  
And so brought Peter safe again to land.  
Now thou my soul observe here Peter's saith  
With willing mind to do what's Mr. saith,  
Leap into Sea without delay or fear,  
Because he saw his Master was so near;  
And than his want of faith when as he saw,  
His body like to sink with a little wawe;  
And than his prayer to that blessed Lord,  
Who did preserve him by his only word:  
Observe my soul this passage seriously,  
There's in it great and deep divinity;  
The Apostles being in a Ship aboard,  
Upon the Sea they did espy their Lord;  
But not discerning that it should be he,  
They said it is some spirit which we do see;  
But he well knowing this their cause of fear:  
He cried to them, and said 'tis I is h re;  
And then when Peter did his Master know,  
He did entreat that he might to him go;  
Desirous greatly to be him more nigh,  
Whom at some distance he did then espy.  
And so by that it did right well appear,  
His faith had then abandoned all fear;  
For when his Master cried, and bid him come,  
He did not then delay his time (as some  
Do use to do) but suddenly he leapt down  
Into the deep sea, and yet did not drown;  
But on the same did stand aloft upright,  
For then his Saviour was within his sight;  
His faith well knowing that there is none can  
Sink where there is that blessed Son of man.  
And now his faith here hoist him up aloft,  
So as it bore him on the water soft;  
As if it had been on the Sea dry sh●a●e,  
Because had faith his body then upboare;  
And so presuming still that he had faith,  
Which was sufficient for to keep him safe,  
He went on boldly until that he saw  
A puffed of wind did raise a little wawe,  
And then his faith begun within him fail;  
For faith in flesh is oftentimes but frail;  
And being let but even a little down  
Within the Sea, which now begun to frown;  
His faith was then turned into white pale fear,  
Although his Saviour was hard by then near.  
And then did Peter with himself thus think  
Without some help I shall be sure to sink,  
And knowing well where help did only lie  
He to his Saviour did address his cry;  
So he ne'er sought for help at th'wooden boat,  
Although she were hard by on Sea a float.  
But on his Saviour solely set his eye,  
And cried help Lord, help Lord, or else I die;  
And than his Lord did reach to him his hand,  
And bid him boldly on the water stand;  
But yet reproved him, and thus to him saith.  
O wretched thou canst have so little faith;  
Why did thou doubt, for surely thou dost know  
My power doth reach unto the deeps below,  
And out of them I'm able thee to fetch,  
If't be my pleasure, O thou faithless wretch  
Who hast so long been in thy Master school,  
And yet dost show thyself to be a fool:  
Canst thou forget to think what Ionas did,  
When in the Whales wide belly he was hid,  
Or when the Sea did make itself a wall,  
To save all them who on my name did call:  
Or Jordan deep (was made like to a sand)  
To bring mine over, as on hard dry land.  
Then set thyself to go to school again;  
And do thou learn where all help doth remain  
That thou mayest not be likened unto them  
Who never seek for Christ but only then  
When they have need, and then aloud they cry  
Help Lord, help Lord, or I am sure to die.  
Stay here my soul a while and meditate,  
And with thyself a little thus debate:  
Can it be possible that Peter saw  
His own good Master, yet did not him knaw;  
His thoughts sure then were not with him at home  
When he did not remember him on whom  
His heart was always bend to think upon,  
Which was on Christ, and only him alone  
To serve with zeal until his dying day  
Which as he did, good Lord grant that I may  
But when at last he did his Master know,  
His humble heart did then begin to bow,  
And prayed that he might safely come to him,  
To whom before he had vowed every limb,  
Whom God accepted and straight bid him come.  
Sweet Jesus grant that it may be my doom:  
Then he neglected all that brittle hope  
Of help might rise out of the wooden Boat;  
Or yet by active labouring of the limb,  
Tho he were skilful on the water swim;  
Or any other help from earth may rise  
For by such earthly helps there's many dies.  
But putting all his trust upon the Lord,  
Who to him now had only said the word,  
Without all fear of greatest danger he,  
Did boldly leap into the raging Sea,  
Which stood as though't had been a rock of stone,  
For God himself and only he alone  
Was able, and the sea did so command.  
And then did Peter light as on a Sand,  
And walked along from imminent danger free  
As on safe ground until that proudly he  
Presuming faith in his own power too much,  
For this presumption overthrows all such  
As on their own strength only do rely,  
If that their Saviour please not to be nigh.  
For when the wind begun a little blow  
And force the sea to rise and make a show,  
As if it meant to swallow Peter in:  
Then Peter's faith begun to fail with him,  
And he in lieu of faith had then some fear,  
When as the Sea forbore him up to bear;  
And he begun on it a little sink,  
He then himself did of some help bethink  
To save himself, for death was surely there,  
But that his Saviour did even then appear,  
To whom with zeal he did himself address,  
And prayed him pleas he would vouchsafe to bless  
Him with some help; or else without it he  
Might surely sink into the raging Sea.  
Now God well knowing th'sorrow was in is heart,  
Which did itself to his Saviour Christ impart  
He did with speed stretch forth to him his hand  
And bid him boldly on the water stand.  
O blessed Lord that thou should always be  
So ne'er to them that put their trust in thee,  
Although their sins do prove be ne'er so great,  
If they from them do but in heart retreat,  
And turn again and to their Saviour go,  
Who is only able, and saith no man no.  
And then had Peter strength of faith again,  
So long as he in Jesus did remain,  
And safely stood on th' wavering sea upright,  
Because he then was in his Saviour's sight.  
Now do thou think what joy was Peter in  
When he repent of his faithless sin.  
For God did hear him then most willingly  
At the very first when he did on him cry,  
O blessed Lord be pleased vouchsafe to be  
On all occasions so ne'er unto me,  
As that this Legion thou may'st please to rout,  
which my weak strength O Lord cannot keep out  
For he hath hereto had on me such power,  
As he still haunts me every day and hour:  
Yea when my heart is set resolved to serve  
My God and king even then I do observe  
He's bustling heard within my bony breast,  
And will not let my silly soul take rest.  
O thou blind soul which art not able see,  
Where God is not, no good rest there can be.  
The cause I fear thou hast at all no faith:  
Since faith is such as our sweet Saviour saith,  
'tis able make the greatest mountain move,  
Except thou canst procure it from above,  
Sweet Jesus help, this want of faith in me  
Is so apparent unto every eye,  
As each observer may discover well,  
That by my actions I intent for hell;  
Since my faith is not like to Peter's tho,  
He saw his Master, yet did not him know;  
Nor when he seemed in sea a little sink.  
He well discerned it and of help did think:  
Nor when he durst not on the deep sea go  
Until his Master did command him so,  
Or when as he his Master did forswear,  
Because his heart was troubled then with fear.  
Nor when his Master he did disobey  
In sleeping then when his Master bid him pray;  
For though he did not know him at first sight,  
He heard his voice and apprehended right;  
And when in Sea he did a little sink,  
He had hope raised him to the waters brink,  
And when he durst not on the deep Sea go  
He had faith to think that he might well do so  
And though his Master he did thrice deny,  
He did it through the flesh infirmity.  
And when for praying he did fall a sleep,  
It was because his Saviour did him keep.  
O wretched beast look in thy breast thou'lt see  
That thine to his is infidelity.  
Confess a truth, dost thou thy Saviour know,  
I fear thy heart within thee will say no:  
Perchance thou'lt say thou could if should him see  
O shameless man, then there's no faith in thee,  
Since thou didst see him nailed upon the cross,  
For to refine thee from thy sinful dross.  
May be thou'lt say that thou did not him hear;  
'tis true indeed, or else thou wouldst forbear  
To pierce his side with every several sin,  
Which like to darts thou freely throws at him  
O wretch, O wretch, hast thou a heart to think  
If thou like Peter in the Sea should sink,  
That thou hadst faith to raise thee up again,  
Thy conscience tells thee thou shalt there remain  
And deeper far than that the deepest Sea,  
Where seeming faith will stand for no good plea  
Then have a face and faith for to confess,  
Thy sins are such as well deserve no less;  
And then there's hope, thou hast some faith in  
Be pleased good God vouchsafe this faith to me  
Speak conscience speak durst it on deep Sea go?  
I fear thy heart will tell thee truly no;  
But thou wilt say thy Saviour did not call;  
Then haste t'not seen him nailed on cross at all  
For if thou didst, thou might both hear and see  
Him search his arms and loudly calling he,  
Yea thee by name, If thou wilt but confess  
Thy sins are such as well deserve no less:  
Say so my heart, and thereof do repent,  
And then thou'lt see that Christ for thee was sent  
Now speak a truth, hast thou not Christ forsworn,  
Or canst thou say that he for thee was born?  
I fear that truth will in thee justify  
Thou dost thy Saviour every hour deny;  
For though he call, and call, and call again;  
Yet doth thy heart even still in sin remain,  
And though sometimes thou dost behold his blood  
Thou canst not say it doth thee any good:  
For thou at his loud cry forbears to come,  
Sweet Jesus grant that word may be my doom;  
Speak on thou conscience, hast thou Christ obeyed  
Thou'lt say thou hast him oftentimes denayed  
And slept in sin when Christ was not the keeper  
Peter's was great but thy sin much the greater:  
His Saviour then was praying hard for him  
And now for thee, yet thou'lt not leave thy sin,  
Tho Peter's fault were much against his mind,  
Yet thou to Satan art in heart so kind,  
As thou wilt follow him though that Christ say not  
Blessed Jesus free me from this word of Go.  
And now do thine with Peter's faith compare  
Thou'lt say thyself that they much differing are  
And so much differ will thy conscience say,  
As white from black, or this word yea from nay  
For if thou couldst do th'least what Peter did,  
Then might thou say faith in thy hart was hid  
But though thou say that thou hast faith in thee:  
Yet I fear none nor thou thyself dosted see,  
For that Christ saith 'tis gift of God above,  
And them that have it mountains can remove;  
Which is well known thou art not able do.  
Then cry for help of him who can do so,  
For want of faith is cause of all thy sin.  
Then break thy heart that faith may enter in;  
For broken hearts are they will win the crown  
Then break thy heart & beat presumption down  
For this presumption causeth many a sin,  
In hope of time for to repent them of in.  
Beware of Satan such he often useth,  
And with such shifts fond man he oft abuseth;  
Then fly this fiend, and fear to come him nigh,  
For he is subtle and in carriage sly;  
And doth delight in ranging th' earth about.  
Then hid thee from him lest he find thee out;  
And do thou strive to mount thyself aloft,  
And make thy prayers to thy Saviour oft,  
That he will thee, and thy poor soul safe keep,  
Both when thou'rt waking, and when thou dost sleep.  
For except he please vouchsafe to set the scout,  
Thou art not able keep the enemy out:  
Then please good God to me some angel send,  
Whom thou thinkest good to my safeguard commend,  
He that did father Abraham's servant guide,  
When he went forth a wife for to provide  
For's master Isaac, or did Lot preserve  
From Sodom's plague, which it did so deserve,  
Or he that opened Peter th' iron gate,  
When surely death was doomed to be his fate,  
Or one of them our Saviour said did keep,  
These little ones as his beloved sheep,  
Or whom thou please to my safeguard command  
For to preserve me out of Satan's hand,  
Sweet Jesus keep me, keep me Lord this day  
From all tentation I thee humbly pray,  
For Satan's rage increaseth every where,  
Because the general Judgement draweth near,  
Or else that honest angel Raphael,  
Whose company holp that young Tobias well,  
But doubtless Tobies heart was firmly bend  
For to obey that strict commandment  
His father gave him long before his death,  
which was that he while there was in him breath  
Should always set the Lord before his eyes.  
And that his will should ever sin despise.  
And he shall aye observe the Lords commands,  
And duly labour with his fleshly hands,  
And true and just in all his do prove,  
For such are they whom God doth only love  
Then to their actions he will surely send  
A prosperous and a good successful end;  
And have a care thou freely alms do give,  
For so must they that do intent to live,  
Enjoy where is their blessed Saviour:  
For none come there that do not pity th'poor  
Seeing alms is esteemed a goodly gift  
Before th' most high to them that use to give it.  
From filthy whoredom do thou safely keep,  
For all such sins will cause thy soul to weep.  
Let no man's wages with thee longer stay,  
But have a care each labourer duly pay:  
Besure thou always to an other do,  
So as thyself desires be done unto;  
Beware thou do not drink till thou be drunk  
For many such great sins to hell are sunk.  
And be not slow to give the hungry bread,  
Nor  to them that do of  stand ned  
Take counsel always of them that are wise  
In giving counsel be not too precise,  
And of thy mother look to have a care,  
For surely she for thee hath had her share;  
And be thou sure thou do not take a wife,  
Mongst these where I am forced lead my life;  
And look thou duly do observe my will  
As thou'lt account on blessed Sion's hill;  
Where no excuse for plea will be accepted,  
Nor no man's person for his wealth respected,  
But only such as seek and serve the Lord,  
And in their lives have care to keep his word:  
And fear not though God suffer thee made poor,  
So long as Christ thy Saviour's at the door.  
If thou dost fear him and dost fly from sin,  
Then do not doubt he'll keep thy soul with him  
Then young Tobias to his father said,  
That this his will in all should be obeyed;  
Then th'old man said that he had talents ten  
In Gabarels hand, who dwelled at Ragues then,  
And willed him search if he could find a man,  
Might guide him th' way to Ragues if he can;  
Then Raphael he with young Tobias met,  
And told him he was able there him set;  
For he did know that land Media well,  
And the way to Ragues he could also tell;  
Then he that Raphel to his father brought,  
And said that he had found whom he had sought  
Then th' old man did desire his name  
And kindred both which was the very same  
Even with his own, and then they both agreed  
For a guide a day, and also to have bread  
And meat beside, and such provision  
As should be made for Toby his own son.  
And if you make to me a safe return,  
I'll add some more for your good service done  
And now provision being ready made  
For that great journey th' old man to him said  
On God's name go, and I shall daily pray  
That God will send some Angel guide your way:  
But then the mother she begun to weep  
For her great grief she could no longer keep,  
And wished the silver might be rather lost  
Than they should be at any further cost;  
But chief sorrowed for her only son,  
For want of whom they utterly were undone;  
But th'old man willed his wife to be content:  
For he well hoped they had no cause repent.  
And then the mother left her sorrowing,  
And with the father fell to hearty praying.  
The travellers now being well set on their way,  
Ne'er Tiger's flood they meant one night to stay  
Where in young Toby went himself to wash,  
And out the river leapt up a Fish;  
And Raphael willed him to put in's hand,  
And take the fish and bring it safe to land;  
And take out of it Liver, Heart and Gall,  
And keep them safe for that these three were all  
Good for some use, & then they broiled the fish  
Which proved to them a curious dainty dish;  
Then on they went the way towards Ecbatane  
Where they intended one night to remain;  
And travelling Toby to his servant said,  
Why is it we have this provision made?  
To keep these entrails I have with me here,  
I wish to know for what good use they were.  
Then Raphael said, pray Sir observe with care  
How God did these for your great good prepare  
The Heart and Liver are by nature such,  
As if an ill sprite do but trouble much,  
Broil these upon a little pretty fire  
And they will quench with speed the spirits ire,  
And do but rub the Gall upon the eyes  
Of them are troubled with the whitish skies  
Will cure the same and make them very bright;  
And so by that means gain again the sight.  
And the servant he unto his Master said,  
Our journey now is almost well nigh made;  
And we shall this night lodge with Raguel  
who's of thy blood and kindred, I can tell  
And hath no children, but one daughter who  
Is virtuous, fair, and wise, and loving too;  
And there is none for aught that I do know  
Can marry her but even only thou:  
For I am sure by th' law of Moses she  
Of right belongeth solely unto thee.  
And when we're there, i'll move her father t'it,  
And do not doubt but he'll be willing t'it.  
And then unto him Toby did reply,  
I doubt dear Raphuel I shall surely die  
If I shall but unto her chamber go,  
For of a truth I hard reported so,  
That she seven husbands hath already had  
And all of them died in the brideall-bed:  
And my own parents have no children more  
But only me, and if so be therefore  
It be my fortune in this country die,  
Or in this journey for to miscarry.  
I fear my parents shall such sorrow have  
As will with grief bring them unto their grave  
Then Raphuel he to his Master thus replied,  
'tis true indeed there have so many died;  
But do not fear for thou hast means to fray  
That wicked spirit, and force him fly away:  
And thou dost know that 'tis thy father's mind  
Thou should bestow thyself in thy own kind;  
Then jet no cause of fear possess thy heart,  
But cheerfully perform the Bridgrooms' part,  
For this night will the match consummate be;  
And this night will the Bride be given to thee;  
And when thou comest into the bridal room,  
Take embers hot, and thereon make perfume  
Of this the Heart and Liver of the fish,  
And fear not all shall be as thou would wish.  
But look before you do yourselves address  
To go to bed, pray God he may you bless,  
And all your acts, and look you thankful be  
For his great goodness he hath given to thee;  
And do not fear for th'ill spirit hath no power  
To trouble you or yours for one half hour;  
And I suppose your wife shall then conceive,  
And many children may she happily have  
By whom you shall be greatly comforted,  
When your own parents may perchance be dead  
Then Toby did begin to feel in part,  
How he did love the maiden in his heart.  
And when they came unto that Raguels' place,  
Did comely Sarah meet them in the face;  
And when with joy they had saluted her,  
She prayed them please go in to her father:  
And then did Raguel say unto his wife,  
This is our kinsman I dare lay my life;  
And quest'oned them from whence, & what they be  
They answered him captives at Ninive,  
And of the tribe is called Nephtalim;  
Then Raguel said and did reply to him,  
Thou art my kinsman, pray thee when didst see  
That old man Toby in what health is he?  
My father is (thank God) in health fulright,  
But that said he, he hath only lost his sight.  
Then Raguel fell to kissing him and wept,  
And he and his for present joy all leapt;  
And then in haste did cause to kill a Ram,  
And much meat more there was to th'table come  
Then Toby's heart was set on fire to love  
That comely Sara by the God above,  
And spoke to Raphuel he would make it known  
For he well hoped that now she was his own.  
Then Raphuel he unto her father said;  
I beseech you sir be pleased bestow this maid  
Upon your kinsman that young Toby there  
And greatly doth desire to marry her.  
Then Raguel said indeed it was so meet,  
And willed them they should merry be and eat.  
And then did he begin to them relate,  
Of her seven husbands all the former fate,  
Wherewith was Toby nought at all dismayed,  
But prayed him please he would call in the maid  
For he had vowed he would not eat nor drink  
Until the contract were made sure with ink.  
Then Raguel called his daughter Sara in,  
And freely gave the damsel unto him,  
To whom indeed she did belong of right  
And prayed to God that they might live in's sight  
And for more blessings prayed he with his heart,  
And divers secrets did to them impart.  
Then Raguel called upon his wife Edna,  
And to her thus he then begun to say,  
Wife I have give our daughter Sara there  
To this our kinsman that young Toby here,  
And do expect that you will be content;  
And eke our daughter Sara's free consent,  
To which they both of them most willing were:  
So was the match with speed consummate there,  
And took a book, and then the contract writ,  
As by their custom it was ever fit;  
And then he willed his wife for to provide  
A fitting chamber for the Groom and Bride,  
Wherein there was a fire and all things meet,  
Which were beseeming for the marriage night,  
And then the mother did lead in the Bride,  
And stayed a while by her daughter Sara's side,  
Who then begun with sorrow shed some tears,  
Her heart being full remembering former fears:  
But now the mother willed her be content,  
For that this man without all doubt was sent  
From God above, who promised to defend  
Both him and his from that same wicked fiend  
Who was accustomed and had haunted there;  
And therefore willed her sorrow to forbear.  
And suddenly the Goom she than espies,  
And wiped the tears from off her cheeks & eyes  
And when they had conducted in th'bridegroom  
Into that stately sumptuous bridal room,  
Where Sara th'bride and eke her mother were  
He willed them both they would be of good cheer,  
For th' spirit Asmodeus had no power  
To trouble them or theirs for any more;  
Since that the God of heaven & earth had said,  
That he should be espoused to that maid;  
And also promised he would them defend  
From all tentation unto their lives end.  
Wherewith was Raguel in his heart so pleased  
As that all grief was thereby suddenly eased;  
And when the old folks had their children blest,  
They took their leaves and then themselves addressed,  
To pray to God & when their pra'rs were done  
They digged a grave for their new married son,  
Who now had made a little fire of coals,  
Thereon the Heart and Liver both he broils  
From which proceeded such a mighty smell,  
As drove the spirit down to th'deepest hell;  
Where he is bound, and ne'er hereafter shall  
Return again to do them any ill.  
And then they both on knees by their bed side,  
Kneel on the ground, & thus to God they prayed  
O blessed Lord who hath made heaven & earth,  
And all therein, even by thine only breath;  
And to our father Adam gave his life,  
And also Eve for helper and a wife:  
And thou O Lord in whom we only trust  
knowst we meet not for any fleshly lust,  
But even in thee O Lord to live and stay;  
And thy commands for ever to obey,  
To this good God be pleased to say amen,  
And to their bed they did betake them then.  
Now when the night was well nigh passed & done  
Then Raguel sent a maid to see his son,  
And bring him word if they were yet in life;  
And then did he impart unto his wife  
That if he now like to the other died,  
He would him privily in that grave so hid,  
That none might notice take of such a thing,  
Lest ill report abroad might thereof ring;  
And when the maid returned who went to see,  
She told her Master both a sleep they be:  
Then Raguel caused with speed to fill the grave,  
And praised that good God, that to him gave  
Even such a son as did the Devil overcome,  
And shut him out of that the marriage room;  
And when the day begun to dawn they then  
Do all rejoice and call unto their men,  
And made provision for a sumptuous feast  
Whereto was slaughtered many a goodly beast,  
And thereof dainties was not any scant;  
Nor change of wines at that feast was no want;  
Yet none of them were there compelled to drink  
More then for health was fitting they good think  
And this feast lasted full for fourteen days,  
Wherein they're jovial and sing worthy praise  
To God our Saviour and our only king;  
And mongst their mirth his praises always sing  
Now stay a while and leave these feasters here,  
To praise their God, and yet to eat good cheer.  
And let me view the face of this our time,  
How it is altered from it was in prime;  
And therein doubtless nothing is it bettered;  
As if that man in it were nothing lettered:  
But though our language give to time the blame;  
Time doth not alter, but is still the same  
It was at first, and such are creatures all  
And stations keep whereto God did them call;  
And therein they each in their several kind,  
Observe his law according to his mind;  
And all of them do in a sort rejoice,  
And praise their God both with the heart and voice,  
Save only man this wretched sinful man,  
Who leaves all good and doth all th'ill he can:  
And yet for him and only for his sake,  
Did the creator all these creatures make;  
And great Jehovah further more than this,  
Gave unto man a power to live in bliss,  
Till wretched he more worse than all the rest  
Did disobey his God who had him blest;  
And hide himself, and did his God forsake,  
And against him with's enemy did partake;  
And for an Apple sold his happy state.  
O wretch that bought thy bain at such a rate;  
Yet this good God who's goodness doth abound  
Was loath to leave this man without a ground,  
Whereby he might repair his state again,  
If he will but in's service yet remain,  
And call on him who is his Saviour,  
And doth desire his coming every hour:  
But th' creature man doth still partake of th' curse  
And as we say oft-time, grow worse and worse  
For men at first as I in scripture read,  
When friends did meet were well content with bread,  
With bread alone they're jovial and do sing  
The worthy praises of their heavenly king;  
And than their drink was suiting to their meat  
They had no change but all one kind did eat:  
And yet their mirth above the skies did mount;  
Although their drink were water from the fount.  
And afterwards I read, when friends did meet  
With th'fatted Calf or Kid they kindly greet  
One friend another and are well content  
To sing his praise who these great blessings sent  
In after times I see they eat good cheer,  
And many days of feasting as is there,  
At Cana's marriage where no doubt was love,  
And thereof doubtless did their God approve,  
As by his blessings on them doth appear,  
They served God although they eat good cheer;  
But present times are truly said none such,  
For that from these they differ more then much  
For now though sometime we do make a feast,  
Whereto we happily kill a little beast;  
Perchance a fowl or some such other thing,  
Yet we forget his worthy praises sing.  
Seeing our discourse is most part idle chat,  
Without so much as mention once of that  
Whereon we always ought to think upon,  
Which is on Christ his bitter passion;  
And such feasts now are seldom with us used,  
But other feasts where God is much abused:  
Yet neither meat nor bread is there required,  
But only drink and drink alone desired;  
But 'tis not water, as in elder time,  
But salt in some, and in some other lime,  
To add a relish to the taste of malt,  
Whereby they not discerning it be salt:  
The stomach still desireth more and more;  
For thirst not so content with reason store  
Will not be quenched till from words to blows  
And meeting friends they often part like foes.  
Good God that our feasts should thus differ far  
Begin in friendship, yet to end in war:  
And now we altar in our time of feasting,  
And are some say to turn it into fasting;  
And good cause why if so we weigh it well,  
When hardly any who's his friend can tell  
But in the south part of this wretched I'll.  
We used to feast in Christmas time ere while;  
And then again in Lent we used to fast,  
In some sort till full forty days were passed  
Our ancients they about Lent differed much;  
But 'twas not time, but 'twas the meat made such  
And all of them of forty days agreed;  
For fasting next 'fore Pasche so decreed:  
But some do hold no such decree is fit,  
But better feast, then fast we think on it,  
If this were all the matter were not much,  
But now the difference is become be such,  
As we shall hardly know when Christ was born  
Or when he died, the times are now so torn,  
Sweet Jesus please to be at England's fasting,  
As thou wast pleased to be at Cana's feasting  
For there no doubt was feasting well approved  
Of him who ought of all be best beloved.  
And now let's back to th' feast at Eebatane,  
And see what's come of them did there remain,  
For Raguel swore by that great God above,  
Till th' feast was done his children should not move;  
And then they should have half of what he had  
And then return to Niniveh without dread.  
Then Toby he his servant did entreat,  
To go to Rages, and there he should meet  
With Gabael and with him also bring  
Both him and th' silver to that great wedding,  
Which so he did, and when the time was run,  
Old Toby did expect his sons return,  
And sorrowed sore, for that he greatly feared,  
Some strange disaster had to's son appeared,  
Because his stay did prove to be so long  
Beyond the time expected he should come,  
And Anna wept and sorrowed very sore,  
Much sorer far, then e'er she did before,  
And every day she went and stood on high,  
To see if she her son afar could spy,  
And all that time she did forbear her meat,  
And well nigh nothing, that while did she eat,  
Her wont sleep her eyes did quite forbear,  
And she almost had lost her sight for fear,  
And now did Toby begin to think upon  
his journey when the feast was almost done,  
And prayed his father he would let him go,  
For fear his parents might be dead for woe,  
Then Raguel parted all his goodly store,  
And gave him half of what he had ●nd more,  
His goods his servant, and his ready coin  
Th'one half he had, and it was all his own,  
Then Raguel he unto young Toby said,  
My God who heaven and earth and all things made,  
Bless thee and thine, and do to them and thee,  
As he hath done both unto mine and me,  
And to his daughter than he also said,  
God make thee wife, as thou hast been a maid,  
Obedient ever to thy parents all,  
And then fear not, but good shall thee befall,  
If thou do prove to be a loyal wife,  
God will defend thee during all thy life,  
And then did Raguel and his wife Edna  
Take leave of them and set them on their way,  
And so they went with singing forth his praise  
Who did so highly their great fortunes raise  
Until they came near unto Niniveh,  
And then did Raphael speak to young Toby,  
That they two might alone march on before,  
And leave the rest to come along with th' store,  
And went so far till Anna them espied,  
And then she ran and to her husband cried,  
Our son is coming, him I do well see,  
And eke the man that went along with he.  
And then she back again to meet her son,  
And prayed to God that his will might be done  
And thanked him heartily she saw him indeed,  
Whom she thought surely, that he had been dead  
Old Toby also he did offer out,  
But that his son did turn him round about,  
And prayed him please to do as he had done,  
Bestow his blessing on his only son,  
My son said he, pray God he may thee bless,  
And bid him welcome with a hearty kiss,  
Then Toby put gall on his father's eyes,  
Which pricked sore, and then old Toby cries,  
But then young Toby to his father said,  
Take comfort Sir, and be no whit afraid,  
I hope your sight shall strait return again,  
With that he cured his scaly eyes amain,  
And then he saw his loving son and said,  
All glory be to that great God that made  
The highest heavens, and all that in them is,  
Him let us laud, and his name ever bliss,  
Then son to father did at large relate  
What they had done, and also their estate:  
Then Toby out his daughter Sara meet,  
And did her see and also kindly greet;  
So now there was great joy in Ninivee,  
The young man safe, and th' old man also see,  
And there they made another goodly feast,  
Which did ●ndure for full seven days at least,  
Whereat was both great comp'ny & great cheer  
So as it did thereby right well appear  
That Sara was a ve●y welcome guest,  
And so accounted and esteemed with th' best  
So many came on purpose visit her,  
Which was great joy unto her old father;  
And when the feast came to be well nigh done,  
The old man said unto the young, his son,  
What wages now must we for him provide,  
Hath been your servant, and so good a guide,  
And then the son unto the father said,  
We by his means so happy a journey made,  
As I think half of what we have in store  
Is little enough, if it were so much more,  
With all my heart, the old man then replied,  
For he hath proved to us a blessed guide.  
I am content he shall have half we have,  
And more than half, if he do more but crave,  
Then call him in, and know what is his mind,  
Since he hath proved to us so firm a friend,  
Then Toby called, and Raphael he obeyed,  
And then unto him, thus the old man said,  
We know not how we shall your pains repay,  
But half we have do take with you away,  
It is your own, for we do freely give it,  
And more than half if you but please to have it  
Then he replied give unto God the praise,  
For he alone it was that did you raise,  
And he alone it was did this great thing,  
Then be you thankful and his praises sing,  
For I am but that Raphael one of th' s●ven  
His holy Angels wait on him in heaven,  
And did present to him your liberal alms,  
And praises which you sung to him in Psalms,  
So I am only but the instrument,  
'Tis he alone, who hath me to you sent,  
That I might show to you his wonders great;  
For I as yet did ne'er take any meat,  
Although I seemed indeed to you to eat:  
And therefore now give unto God the praise,  
And do you laud his holy name always,  
And fast and pray, from praying do not lin,  
That he may keep you from all grievous sin,  
And let your alms be suiting to your store,  
Of less give less, and then of more give more,  
And have a care you to him thankful be  
For these great blessings he bestowed on ye,  
And praise sing praise to him for evermore,  
Who is sole giver of your plenteous store,  
Him serve, him praise, him do you ever fear,  
And then will he unto your prayers give ear;  
And nothing will this good God now deny,  
Then praise, sing praise to him that fits on high  
And look that you do all these wonders write,  
And so did he departed out of their sight,  
Then they down on their bended knees did fall  
And on the name of th' only God did call  
That he would please continue's blessing still,  
If so it might stand with his blessed will,  
And all their lives his praises they do sing,  
Whose wondrous works o'er all the earth do ring  
And thankful are for blessings he doth send,  
And so continue unto their lives end.  
Observe my soul, what was old Tobies care,  
To teach his son the way how to prepare  
Unto the place which he in heart desired,  
The place was heaven, & heaven alone required:  
And for direction left his son his Will  
To guide him th' way unto Mount Zions hill;  
For it appears by that his will itself,  
He cared not much for any worldly pelf,  
So he got heaven he sought not any more,  
For he held that even alsufficient store,  
But few such now, when most of men seek wealth  
And more respect it then they do their health,  
Since want doth make most poor men be dejected  
And worldly wealth most rich to be respected.  
But thou my soul though God have made thee poor  
Fear not to want seeing Christ is at thy door,  
And will come in, if thou wilt but provide  
An upright heart that he, that may there abide  
For he nor likes nor loves for to be there  
Where th' heart lives not within its Saviour's fear  
But if he find a heart which proveth such,  
Then that heart he respecteth very much,  
And loves it dearly and  surely keep  
As one of those his well beloved sheep.  
Here stay my soul, for here is perfect love,  
Which cometh solely from Jehova 'bove  
Then gain this love, whatsoever it may thee cost,  
For this love doth of all concern thee most,  
Make use of this, and here my soul observe,  
What love it is which doth a man preserve,  
Not love of wealth as some men use to say,  
Nor yet of health, as most do use to pray,  
No nor of peace which all the earth desire,  
When war hath set this wicked world on fire,  
But peace of conscience that is aye the best,  
And that my soul hold thou worth all the rest,  
And doubtless that shalt thou thyself obtain,  
And in that peace shalt all thy life remain,  
Until thou change this life on earth, and then  
No doubt but this thy soul shall obtain heaven.  
There stay my soul, and there set up thy rest,  
For heaven of all homes is th' only best,  
And if thou canst though dearly purchase that,  
No King on earth is seized of such a state;  
Then lay out all thou hast for that rich field,  
Where hidden treasure lieth unrevealed,  
It matters nothing though thou hast no more,  
Thou shalt be rich, although thou be'st made poor  
Stay there my soul, & do not here hence range,  
But think of heaven, and of this earthly change  
Whose soul though boundered here on earth with clay,  
Know then no bounders that this soul can stay  
O what a weakness doth abide in me  
Cannot conceive, what this thing soul should be!  
Which ought all other parts in me control,  
Yet cannot my wit circumscribe this soul:  
Which I well know I have in the somewhere  
Within my corpse, yet do not I know where:  
Though each sense have its several seat beget,  
Yet do not I know which is my souls seat,  
Whereby I see that I myself am such,  
And weaker far than most of men by much,  
Since I with all that little wit I have,  
Where my soul is I can it not conceive,  
For I can neither see, nor yet it feel,  
Nor taste nor hear, nor yet it seent or smell,  
Still am assured, and do right well it see,  
That I have now a living soul in me,  
And I do further perfectly it feel,  
And chiefest care is for its only weal,  
I do it likewise in me also taste,  
And loath I am it should within me waste,  
I well observe, my living soul I hear  
Pray unto God that it may live in's fear,  
And many a time in soul I use to smell  
A seent of sin when as it is not well,  
O what a strange and hard Enigmas this,  
Which none doth know, but only th' God of bliss  
For he alone did it unto me give.  
And by him only it in me doth live,  
For he had power to have made me a stone,  
And then a soul had I had in me none,  
Or if he'd pleased he might made me a tree,  
Nor then had been a living soul in me,  
But he infused into this clayie slime  
A living Soul within his pleasing time  
I hope with joy shall to him go again,  
And with him ever shall in joy remain,  
And then I hope my weary soul shall rest  
In him alone, by whom 'tis only blest,  
O blessed Lord, which di● to me it give,  
Grant it may ever in thy service live  
One of that glorious heavenly Angel's choir,  
And then shall I have what I do desire;  
For there my soul in soul desires to be  
Where it shall live in joy eternally,  
Within the presence of that heavenly King,  
And to him always alleluja sing,  
Then sing my soul, and give to God the praise  
Who hath defended thee and thine always,  
And if thou●'lt but apply thy senses there,  
Unto them than thy Saviour will appear,  
And show to thee his bitter wounds and blood  
Which he endured for thine eternal good,  
Whereof he left to thee a monument,  
Thou may'st behold that blessed Sacrament,  
For fear that thou thy Saviour shouldst forget,  
He in thy fight before thy face hath set  
A perfect sign to th' eyes is visible  
Of inward grace which is invisible,  
Where senses all are fully satisfied,  
If that his passion he by faith applied.  
O blessed feast! where all are called to eat,  
That heavenly sacred and that spiritual meat,  
Which only's good, but yet to them alone  
Who come prepared with wedding garment on  
Then grant good God, that I may ever have,  
This glorious garment when I do receive  
This food of life, which thou art pleased to give  
To all of them that in the Lord do live,  
Which in them breeds a fervent spiritual love  
To thee their Saviour, and their God above,  
Sweet Jesus please to feed me with that food,  
That I done'r forget thee nor thy blood,  
Nor those the bloody wounds thou didst endure  
My silly soul death-sick of sin to cure,  
Grant gracious God that I do ne'er forget  
Thy bitter passion, but before me set  
The cruel torment thou endur'dst for me,  
Of all mankind a wretch most unworthy,  
Sweet Jesus please to send I humbly pray  
Thy holy spirit, may guide me on my way  
Which narrow is, and few there be it find,  
For all men are by nature born be blind.  
And follow th' broad & that plain street wherein  
All such do tread as traffic in their sin,  
Dear God lead me out of that pleasing way,  
Let me good Lord, no longer in it stay;  
And then shall I with good King David sing  
The praises due to th' glorious heavenly King,  
Who hath so blessed me and them are mine,  
As I well hope good God we are all thine,  
Grant gracious God, that we may thankful prove  
For these thy blessings, & that bounteous love,  
And  acknowledge them to come from thee  
Who hath so freely given them unto me.  
Grant me that grace good God, I humbly pray,  
That I do never from thee go astray,  
But always love and honour thee aright,  
Being not unmindful I am in thy sight:  
That of thy creatures I may make good use,  
And their right end I no way do abuse  
As some men do, who put their whole delight  
In heaping up of gold which is not right:  
And some there be delight so much in wealth,  
The care of it doth take away their health;  
And some again do love their wealth to spend  
Far faster than God pleaseth it to send:  
And some are such so careful are to keep,  
That fear of losing often breaks their sleep;  
And some delight in living miserly  
To be esteemed rich when they do die;  
And some there are do to their children give,  
The state whereon themselves have need to live;  
And there be some have wealth & proudly live,  
Yet will their hearts nought to their children give,  
Some spend their time and all their means at drink,  
And best bestowed as they themselves do think.  
Some love their horses as they do their lives,  
And some their friends before their loyal wives  
there's some do love their hawks beyond their bounds  
And some again that do delight in hounds  
Good God that man these creatures should abuse  
Which thou created only for man's use;  
The several sorts of which do well declare.  
What several uses of each of them are.  
The Messet dandled in he lady's lap,  
Which she doth use with silken mantle hap;  
The shepherd's Cur which he is careful keep  
To hound together his straggling fearful sheep.  
The Irish Shock is tonsed and taught to wait  
At's Master's elbow looking for a b●it;  
Tlil country Cur doth let his Master know  
If thiefs in night about his house do go;  
The Mongrel he doth take the harmful swine,  
And lull him sound (so he be not mine)  
The nimble Tumbler with his sudden turn  
Will take the Rabber sitting at her urn;  
The pretty Snack (with speed) will quickly teach  
The harmless Hair to keep out of her reach;  
The stately Greyhound that doth seem to scorn  
To run at aught which doth not carry horn;  
The Mastie he will take the ugly Bear,  
On the fierce Bull if he be hounded there;  
The pretty Spaniel, that doth questretreat,  
Doth serve the Hawk with help to fill her feet  
The Water Spaniel that doth fine sport make▪  
In pond if there be either Duck or Drake:  
The little Tarrier that doth love to lie  
As near the Fox as he dare well come by▪  
The pretty Beagle that doth chanting run  
The wiely Wat until her death she come.  
The fleet-hound he doth follow th' game so fast,  
The chase some time doth but a little last.  
The well-mouthed hound doth use his master tell  
Where th'game doth go by sound of his deep bell.  
O blessed God, that thou shouldst make all these,  
Man's several fancies with delight to please;  
And satisfy his wearied senses so,  
As yields him joy sometimes in stead of woe;  
And his dull spirits so to recreate  
With gladness, such as might well animate  
A thankless creature thankful for to prove  
Unto this God, this God of peace and love,  
Who greatly doth desire most lovingly  
This creature man should serve him cheerfully:  
For God doth like and love a cheerful heart,  
And plenteously he doth perform his part  
To draw this man, this most ungrateful man,  
Who of himself no good at all he can,  
To serve his God with so much more delight,  
If these his blessings he do use aright,  
And in his pleasures always meditate  
And with himself thus with himself debate.  
How are my labours with my pleasure eased,  
How have my senses all of them been pleased?  
How senseless I of my laborious pain  
Endured with ease my pleasures to obtain?  
Although my wearied limbs right well do know  
My pains were more than I of them make show;  
And if my pleasure had not so well proved,  
I think my pains should not so well been loved:  
For I do find my pleasure to be such,  
As feeling it, I feel my sorrows much;  
And though my pleasure doth in height abound,  
What profit to me doth thereby redound?  
For now my pleasure it is past and gone,  
And sense of it there now remaineth none.  
To what end then have I took all this pain?  
For some end sure, though it be not for gain.  
If God saw all things he had made were good,  
Then th'use thereof it seems by likelihood,  
Is that which bringeth either joy or woe;  
For th'end is it which always makes it so.  
And have I then right end thereof observed,  
And its right use have I therein preserved?  
Hath my delight been always moderate,  
And hath my tongue been also temperate?  
Have I done this for to preserve my health,  
And have I therein injured no man's wealth?  
Have I in me a heart that is upright,  
Being ever mindful I am in God's sight?  
Have I for these his blessings thankful been,  
In th'use of them did I commit no sin?  
Can I forget whenas the wind doth blow,  
'Tis wind that doth support me here below?  
Did I lift up my heart to God on high,  
Whenas the heavens above I did descry?  
Have I observed the fairest flowers to fade,  
And yet forget why I myself was made?  
Did I see weeds and store of thistles grow,  
And not remember th'cause why they did so?  
Have I this day cast up this day's account,  
To what a sum my several sins will mount?  
When have I took such pains my God to serve,  
As now I have my health for to preserve?   

And if thou dost it really intent  
That thou wilt solely in his service spend,  
Then mayst thou say with safety that thou hast  
This time so spent, not to be spent in waste:  
And give him thanks that he hath so thee blest,  
As thou mayst now go home and take thy rest.  
For man ought not to idleness be given,  
Without all doubt in idleness is sin;  
Since all must labour that do look to live,  
Or else God will to them no blessing give:  
For to the curses God himself doth add,  
Ith'sweat of brows that man should eat his bread.  
And though that all men labour not with th'hand,  
Yet all do labour with th'unstable mind:  
For its condition is not to be idle,  
And therefore care for it to keep a bridle;  
Lest th'mind do run out of that narrow way  
Wherein thou dost desire thy thought should stay;  
For man doth love to keep the plainest street,  
Which broad and beaten is with many feet  
And then make use of this thy harmless pleasure,  
Since God hath blessed thee with so much leisure,  
And given thee time a perfect reckoning make  
Before death come thy life away to take.  
This blessed time, if thou wilt so but use it;  
And cursed also, if thou dost abuse it.  
For its the use makes difference of the day,  
And different uses do the most men sway  
Without respect what may he the right end  
For which God did to thee these pleasures send:  
But thou my soul have care not to forget  
The end for which thou here on earth wast set;  
And always keep it constantly in mind,  
And then fear not but thou shalt ever find  
Good use of all things this good God hath sent;  
Then use thy pleasure without discontent.   

And be not thou unmindful ruminate  
Of that which doth in time determinate  
Both them and thee; and that ere long thou must  
From whence thou cam'st, return to be but dust.  
And think my soul, and think of this again,  
The end for which thou dost on earth remain  
Within this fleshly crazy corpse of thine,  
Which of itself even daily doth decline  
Unto the earth from whence at first it came,  
For th'end of all flesh ever is the same.  
Observe this end, and hereof be thou sure,  
That on this earth thou canst not long endure:  
And then must thou a perfect reckoning make  
Of this thy pleasure which thou here didst take.  
O make that reckoning here upon this earth,  
Lest death do come and take away thy breath;  
And than thy corpse unto its like must go,  
But thou my soul be sure must not do so;  
For thou shalt then receive thy final doom,  
Which grant good God it may to me be Come!  
O stay my soul, and do thou think of this,  
For in it is thine everlasting bliss  
O think of this, and do thou think on't right,  
And think on't still, think on't both day and night:  
For now thy pleasure is come unto an end,  
And thou my soul must now thy doom attend.  
Then now, O now, do thou this reckoning make,  
And to thy Saviour thee thyself betake;  
Who willingly was pleaed for thee to die,  
That thou for him mightst live eternally.  
O live in him, and do him ever l●ve,  
Thy Saviour sweet, who is in heaven above:  
Let all thy thoughts 〈◊〉 him alone attend,  
Thy labours then in him will only end.  
O happy end of all this earthly pain,  
Whereby thy heavenly Saviour thou dost gain!  
He will make all their labours be but light,  
Who always love to be within his sight.  
Live there my soul, and so thou mayst be sure  
Thy life shall then for evermore endure,  
In height of joy, and all true happiness,  
The very essence of all blessedness.  
Stay here my soul, and do thou now admire  
The joys of that most glorious heavenly choir,  
Where Angels always singing spiritual hymns,  
Th'Archangels and the blessed Seraphims  
Continually do praise his holy name,  
Who was, is now, and aye shall be the same.  
There mount my soul, and do thou ever stay  
'Mongst them in heaven, whose joys do ne'er decay,  
Nor yet admit of that the least decrease,  
But ever live in sight of th'God of peace:  
Then pray to him that he will please to send  
His peace to thee for world without all end:  
And do thou always give him praise therefore,  
From this time forth, and so for evermore.  
But stay my soul, remember before thou can  
Ascend, thou must shake off this thing called man;  
This case of thine, wherein thy soul doth breath,  
And leave't behind unto this earth beneath,  
Where it shall reap such se●d as it hath sown,  
Th'end of all flesh, which is corruption;  
Whereby it fears this thing is called pale death,  
Because it only takes away this breath.  
For man's of nothing on earth sensible,  
But that which is on earth corruptible:  
And so it comes that he doth nothing fear,  
But that which heart should wish and soul desire;  
For death is such, and only terrible  
To him whose conscience lives insensible.  
The labouring man likes well to go to rest,  
The weary traveller hastes to th' june is best,  
The mariner strives to get within the port,  
Yet if there prove in it to be a fort,  
And he no friend, than he hath cause to fear,  
And with great terror he will enter there▪  
The toiled traveller likewise fears his host,  
Where thievish ruffians haunt and rule the roast:  
The weary labourer doth not l●ke that bed  
Wherein he knows an ugly toad hath bred:  
The heathen they did much desire their death,  
Because they knew not th'Author of their breath;  
For it they held to be their chiefest good,  
Because that God they had not understood:  
For they did dream that when this life was done,  
That th'end of all things was already come.  
But thou my soul, I'm sure thou knowest more,  
Thou knowst thou hast a loving Saviour,  
Who conquered death, and of himself it o'ercame,  
That thou through him might likewise do the same.  
Ask but thy conscience, it will freely tell thee  
When death comes what it is that shall befall thee:  
For though thy conscience now securely sleep,  
'Gainst th'day of death it will thee waking keep.  
Then be not thou like to the Libertine,  
Who gulls himself with saying, All is mine;  
Come eat and drink, and now let's merry be,  
When morrow comes then we shall surely die.  
But yet when death doth to him come indeed,  
Then this man's fear a deep despair doth breed;  
And he to death, as that King Ahab did  
Unto Elias, thinking he was hid,  
Hast found me out! O fearful! than, O than  
Comes death most dreadful to the dying man.  
But thou my soul, thou knowst t●'assured way  
To make this death thy only happiest day,  
If that thy porters be not lulled asleep  
Whilst they these outer gates of thine should keep  
And suffer thiefs at them to enter in,  
Who'll steal thy good, and leave behind thy sin.  
Then watch and pray, and do thou waking keep,  
And fast and pray, and so prevent thou sleep:  
And then let death come whenas God shall please,  
Can do no hurt, but do to thee great ease;  
For then shalt thou from earthly labours rest,  
And live with whom thou shalt be ever blest.  
Live there my soul, and then thou needst not care,  
Come life, come death, to thee both equal are.  
The fool would fain he might do that at last,  
Which the wiseman thinks fit be done at first:  
For that thinks time is ever in his will,  
But this doth know that time is going still;  
Seeing if man sleep, this time it doth not rest,  
But still keeps pace, and flieth on full fast.  
For though that all men are ordained to die,  
Yet none know when, or where 'tis they must lie:  
Man stands in need prepare for death, and will not;  
But death will come to this man when he would not:  
And such may well be likened to a beast,  
Who's feeding fat like this man at a feast,  
Till th'slaughter-ax give him his fatal blow,  
And then his stubborn heart gins to bow,  
Yet struggles hard this death-stroke to resist,  
But now too late he mourns out had I witted.  
For all of life we very careful are,  
But for this death we not at all prepare:  
So many come this death-stroke to abide,  
Before they do themselves for death provide;  
And then are they to go to learn to die,  
When death appeareth palpably in th'eye.  
Then willingly do thou perform that part,  
Which needs thou must though't be against thy heart.  
And thou my soul do thou in thy youth-dayes,  
Remember death, for so the Wiseman says  
Before that those thy ill days come along,  
For than thou'lt sing another sorrowful song:  
When age and sickness both of them appear,  
Thou hast no power good council then to hear,  
But heart and mind are both so hurried hence  
With age and sickness, they are void of sense.  
Is this a time then to prepare for death,  
When 'tis a burden heavy to have breath?  
When Doctor physic for thee doth prescribe,  
And Lawyer he is going with his bribe,  
And Parish-Parson for thy soul doth pray,  
And friends & neighbours round about thee stay,  
And wife and children sadly weeping are,  
Content of death to take from thee a share,  
If so they might, to ease thee of thy pain,  
Which all the earth unable is to gain,  
But thou art left unto thyself alone  
To make an answer for thy sins each one.  
When powerful death hath entered on thy eyes,  
And into all parts of the body pries,  
And stays the organ of the nimble tongue,  
Lest it might utter aught may tend to wrong;  
And by i'll cold doth fall upon the feet,  
And takes from them their blood and natural heat;  
And so ascends to every other part,  
And then at last it seizeth on the heart,  
Who now with sobs and sighs sums out its breath  
Which by and by is stayed by powerful death.  
And at his entrance on this flesh and bone,  
Gives Conscience leave to lord it all alone;  
Who ne'er till now had audience of a word,  
By help of death is made a puissant Lord;  
And then that heart was stony-hard before,  
Is now made soft, lamenting more and more;  
But ne'er till death had struck him with his dart,  
Gave any way for Conscience play his part,  
Who hath recorded all what heart hath done,  
And lays them open that it may see the sum,  
And cast it up before the day of doom,  
Which grant good God it may to me be Come;  
Being hard at hand, as plainly doth appear,  
When heart and hands and feet are all in fear,  
Who ne'er till now did ever think of death  
That he would come to fetch away its breath:  
For who by flesh was highly monarchised,  
By Conscience now is basely vassalised,  
And so doth yield to what the conscience saith,  
That till death came he had not any faith;  
For health and wealth so puffed it up with pride,  
Save only pleasure it minded nought beside:  
And now entreats to have a little time,  
With full resolve for to amend its crime.  
But Conscience saith, whom now it doth believe,  
That death is sent it of its life bereave,  
And so no hope of pardon to be got,  
But like its life, so death falls to its lot,  
Which conscience tells it: than it is dejected,  
And doth confess it justly is rejected,  
Without all hope of any pardon sending,  
For that this life is now at point of ending.  
Then this proud heart with terror conscience pricks  
And it to hell with horror down he kicks;  
And tells him plainly that the poorest swain  
Whom in his pride with scorn he did disdain,  
Being naked begging at this proud heart's door,  
In Abraham's bosom him shall sit before;  
And in requital of this hard proud heart  
Was loath to yield to Lazarus any part  
Of his vast store wherewith he did abound,  
Is now by Lazar trodden under ground,  
And lets it see whom it did scorn before,  
He would be glad he might beg at his door:  
But conscience tells him he is now deba●'d,  
'Cause pride in wealth did poverty not regard.  
So this proud heart who poverty held in scorn,  
Doth beg of death a while to be forborn:  
But conscience tells him 'tis not in death's power  
For that he cannot spare him now one hour,  
Because his time is limited by God,  
Whom he ne'er knew, so did not fear his rod;  
Which now he feels by conscience information  
That he must hence into some other nation,  
Where soul must suffer for the body's sin  
And horrid life which it hath lived in,  
Without so much as any care for th'soul,  
But all for th' self, although in substance moul:  
Which then by conscience is in heart confessed,  
And better life (if time) is now professed.  
When time is past, to it a period's put,  
And 'gainst this soul the gates of heaven are shut:  
So then in lieu of hope comes in despair,  
And tells it now it must for hell prepare,  
Because it did not think of this in time,  
So soul must suffer for the body's crime,  
Which conscience offered often to inform,  
But pride of heart held conscience aye in scorn,  
And would not hear when it made suit to speak,  
For worldly affairs such suits do always break;  
And so the soul is now deprived of bliss  
Or sight of heaven where its sweet Saviour is:  
And that proud flesh of earth at first was made,  
Must to the earth, and there a while be stayed  
For crawlers' meat, till that loud trump shall blow,  
When soul and body both must undergo  
That final doom by God himself pronounced,  
Because in life this God they have renounced;  
And that most justly doth the conscience tell,  
Deprived of heaven, and doomed to th' deepest hell,  
Where they must live, but wishing still for death,  
Which they did fear at parting with their breath,  
So what in heart in life was always loathed,  
Will after death in heart he ever loved,  
But not obtained, as Diver doth thee tell,  
Decreed for ever now to live in hell.  
O eloquent death, hath done more in one day  
Then Moses did with all that he could say,  
Or yet the Prophets by their crying out  
These eighty years, or now near thereabout,  
Yet all unheard, or not in heart believed,  
Till this hard heart of life is like bereft.  
O powerful death, whose presence without speaking  
Hath done what Prophets could not by their preaching  
This conscience knows, & doth at large relate  
What th'heart hath done, and what shall be its fate  
But out of time, because it would not hear  
That it should come be laid on th' fatal bear,  
Which now stands ready waiting at the door  
To carry away who did it scorn before.  
Is this a time then now for thee begin  
To think in what state thou at death art in?  
For now thy conscience guilty of sin will say  
That th'weight of it to Topher doth thee sway,  
Without all hope of thee for ere returning,  
Wh●n th'souls before, and in that Tophet burning.  
So all thy helps are surely now but weak,  
If thou didst not in former times bespeak  
Them at his hands, who always willing is  
And able also to bring thee to bliss,  
If thou hast made the way for it before,  
Or else there's danger of it at death's door.  
Thou foolish man, observe the harmless Bee,  
Who summertime doth fill her downy thy,  
And in her storehouse hoards up plenty of meat  
Against the time when there is none to get.  
Look likewise on that little creature Ant,  
Who being careful how to prevent want,  
Foreseeing winter to be coming on,  
In time of summer makes provision.  
These little creatures teach thee, time well spent  
In its due time, and that with good intent,  
May gain unto thee blessings happily,  
Which shall continue for eternity.  
But th'old man he is blind and cannot see,  
And th'young man he is stout and will not be  
Correct with death; this death which only can  
As all things else, unmake this creature man:  
And that being done, than all this massy earth  
Unable is for to regain him breath.  
And therefore now be sure whils● thou hast power  
For to remember death comes at an hour  
When 'tis not looked fo●, like unto the thief,  
When man's in health, and is of full belief  
That he shall live, and so he still expects  
The length of da●e●, but th'day of death neglects;  
And yet doth know that he 'fore all the rest  
Who dyeth well, thus only shall be blest.  
For if a man were able spend his time  
Devoid of sin or any sinful crime,  
And prove an Atheist but for one half hour,  
And therein comes his blessed Saviour,  
And doth demand what only is his own,  
And ro●peth there where he hath never sown:  
O what a case may this man now be in,  
Who long lived well, yet died in deadly sin!  
Since th'tree as't grows, that way it surely falls,  
And as the thief doth come, so God he calls.  
For th'foolish Virgins had their final doom  
For want of oil shut out of th'marriage room.  
O what a fearful horrid case is this,  
For one hours' pleasure lose eternal bliss!  
Then watch my soul, and do thou always say,  
Good Lord give us our daily bread this day:  
For after one day filthy worms did eat  
That precious Manna which was heavenly meat;  
Because that they who every day would have,  
Should every day for daily blessings crave.  
And knew those worms did food of Angels eat,  
Within a while will of the flesh make meat:  
And though thy soul it cannot then be there,  
Yet soul and body are decreed to bear  
Their share alike, at the last reckoning day.  
Then do not thou this reckoning now delay▪  
For (wretched man) this time doth draw fast on,  
Near unto death by computation;  
And every day thy sins they do increase,  
Time for repentance daily doth decrease;  
And if repentance (by grace) be obtained,  
There's satisfaction also must be gained,  
Or else I doubt repentance very much  
Without repayment cannot prove be such  
As it should be, and then I greatly fear  
There will no days be longer granted there;  
For death is strong, and will not be o'ercome  
By threats nor treats, whenas the day doth come.  
Then thou fond man who seeing thy sick friend,  
Wilt not say to him he is near his end:  
Till he be likely to yield up his breath,  
And then thou wills him he should think of death;  
Lest that the name of death should fearful be  
To him that is now at the point to die.  
Then fear this death before he so near come,  
For 'tis too late to do't at th'day of doom;  
Seeing if death's warrant shall but once be sealed,  
There is no wealth can cause it be repealed:  
And therefore now have care prevent the worst,  
Lest thou do hold thy day of birth accursed;  
When hills nor mountains are not able hide,  
But this thy life must then be justly tried  
By thine own conscience 'fore that dreadful King  
Who knows and sees even every secret thing;  
And sendeth this his servant powerful death,  
To take away from thee thy dearest breath:  
O then have care thou do thy days spend well,  
If thou intent to keep thy soul from hell;  
And be thou often thinking of this death,  
How 'tis his office to take away thy breath:  
And do it daily, since each day thou may  
Even lose thy life in that one day's delay.  
And so by this accustomed daily count  
Thou'lt see thy sins how they decrease or mount.  
And if th' hast wealth, thy care is so much more  
To leave'● than he that is esteemed poor.  
O (living) look thou stare upon death's face,  
That dying thou mayst know his comely grace:  
For familiarity will only bring  
A loving liking of a loathed thing.  
Then thou my soul acquaint thee with this death  
Before he come to fetch away thy breath:  
For though his phisnomy be pale and grim,  
If daily seen, thou'lt stand no fear of him.  
Then do thou look upon him every day,  
As he were coming to call thee away:  
By so much oftener that thou dost him see,  
By so much more familiar you will be.  
And do esteem him always as a friend,  
Seeing he may greatly stead thee at thy end.  
Assure thyself he's stout and will not fly,  
But he is always waiting on thee nigh;  
For he is one of whom thou shalt be found  
Tho thou wert hidden underneath the ground:  
And if thou think from him to run away,  
Then he's so swift that he will make thee stay.  
O view him, love him, and him look upon;  
His countnance's comely, so's his complexion,  
Though it be pale, yet sweet 'twill be to thee,  
But th'hinder parts shalt ne'er be able see;  
For he doth always forwards towards thee come,  
And never backwards he is seen return:  
He feareth no man's face, nor yet his strength,  
But overcometh all whatsoever at length.  
There's neither King nor Keisar he will spare,  
But all in th'end do fall unto his share:  
Though there be millions of armed men in field,  
If he but throw his dart at them, they yield:  
There are no guns so great can make him flee,  
For none on earth but only he's shot-free.  
His dart is always very sharp and keen,  
And flies so fast it cannot well be seen.  
Do but observe the nature of his dart,  
It always aimeth at the very heart:  
The strongest walls that ere with hands were made  
When he doth come, by them he'll not be stayed.  
He hits his mark as well in darkest night,  
As when the sun doth shine though ne'er so bright.  
Then do not thou this death's acquaintance shun,  
From whom the swiftest of all canno● run;  
And who will cause the stoutest stand in fear,  
If of his coming they by chance do hear.  
Make much my soul of his acquaintance then,  
If thou dost love him, he will tell thee when  
He means to come, if thou do often use  
Of him and his condition for to muse.  
O then love thou this death his company well,  
There's in it more than I am able tell:  
Yet this my soul I do in him observe,  
That his acquaintance may in time preserve  
From second death, which is a kindness such  
More worth by far than all the earth by much.  
Th● make account of such a special friend,  
Who is so powerful with thee at thy end,  
As by his means there's hope thou mayst procure  
A happy life which shall for aye endure,  
Amongst that blessed glorious company  
Who live and shall for all eternity,  
And evermore the worthy praises sing  
Of Christ our Saviour and our heavenly King.  
Then thou my soul make now a standing there,  
And yet some more do thou of death inquire,  
Since he is such, and of so sweet a nature,  
Whom some esteem to be of horrid feature:  
But by observance I do in him find  
To tho●e that love him he is very kind;  
And th'more I look upon his comely face,  
The better still I like his comely grace,  
As though he scorned the greatest earthly Kings  
Esteeming them to be but even base things.  
And more than so, I in him this observe,  
If I have grace myself in time preserve  
From sin, that then he can do me no harm,  
If I do so I do him quite disarm;  
For he no weapons with him bears about,  
But with my own sins he doth beat me out  
From off this earth where wretched I do live,  
But mine own sins mine own death-stroke do give,  
So as I find if I from sin were free,  
That then were death not able conquer me.  
For now I see 'tis only my own sin  
The wicked harbinger to bring death in,  
Then do thou beat this harbinger but out,  
And then fear not thou shalt put death to rout:  
For if there were no sin within thy heart,  
Then thou wert able take away death's dart.  
O than my soul hear this, O do thou hear,  
Thy sin's the cause of all thy greatest fear:  
Then fear to sin, and thou art able fray  
This thing cal●'d death, and force him fly away;  
And if thou leave thy sin thou may be sure,  
thou'rt able then the sting of death to cure,  
Then use all helps to leave thy loved sin,  
And let slip none may bring thy Saviour in:  
But set a watch and guard thy heart about  
To keep thy Saviour and shut Satan out▪  
For if thy mind be set on God above,  
And thou resolved to follow him in love,  
Then all thy actions which thou dost intent,  
Are helps to bring thee to a happy end;  
And no occasion can come then amiss,  
May help to bring thy soul to th'King of Bliss.  
Nor none let pass without some godly use  
Which some are wont with wickedness abuse;  
But godly minds are ever apt to good,  
And more for th'souls then for the body's food.  
Think with thyself how dost thou thee behave,  
Canst go to bed, and then not think on grave,  
Since it's more sure than is thy (laid-down) bed  
Shall not that surety enter then thy head?  
Canst thou prepare to go to take thy rest▪  
And nought prepare for him hath so thee blest?  
Thou know'st thy sleep may well be said like death,  
Save only that affords a little breath  
Which this doth take, and all what else is thine.  
Then think of death, and think on't now in time▪  
In sleep no sense, no not of greatest pain,  
And so in death if heaven by it thou gain;  
Then aim at heaven, let it be all thy care▪  
Or else be sure have hell fall to thy share,  
Canst thou unclothe thee to thy naked skin,  
And then forget to cleanse thee of thy sin?  
Hast thou the care thy bed may be made warm,  
And then no care to keep thy soul from harm?  
Canst thou be careful see thy linen sweet,  
And not remember that thy winding she?  
Hast thou the sense to feel thy bed is cold,  
And yet no feeling that thou art grown old?  
Canst thou have care thy bed should be made soft,  
And then no care to lift thy soul aloft?  
Canst thou be careful for thy body's rest▪  
Yet careless how the soul may come be blest?  
Is flesh and blood of more esteem with then,  
Then th'soul for which thy Saviour so did d●e?  
Dost thou not know when body goes to grave,  
The soul expects a place in heaven to have?  
Dost pamper flesh for filthy worms to eat,  
And starve thy soul for want of spiritual meat?  
Thou sayest thou'rt sure of a living soul in thee,  
And yet thy life doth show it cannot be  
Shall no occasion slip for th'bodies good,  
And none be found to furnish ●h'soul with food?  
Can any think that man hath any sense  
Cares all for th'corpse, and nought for th'souls offence?  
Is flesh and blood with thee of more esteem,  
Then that thy soul whose care is only heaven?  
Those go to ground from whence at first they came  
But this to God, in whom is only its aim.  
Let conscience say for soul and bodies care,  
How little's that, how great this others share?  
So as it seems thou more esteems of monle,  
Then dost of that thy precious spiritual soul,  
Which flies a●●y when body goes to ground,  
Let conscience say where then it must be found.  
Which it well knows, and will not then dissemble,  
When flesh & blood with fear shall shakebag & tremble  
Then let thy bed be made to thee a grave,  
If thou expect a room in heaven to have  
Prepare for grave when dost prepare for bed,  
So idle thoughts will vanish out thy head.  
Think thou art dying when thou ghost to sleep,  
'Twil be a means thy soul from sin to keep.  
Or else take notice that thy heart is hard,  
When thought of death with it's of no regard.  
And that thy God hath suffered it be so,  
Lest it might melt, and to its Saviour go.  
O fearful fearful is thy God then gone,  
And thought of him in thee remaineth none.  
Are neither hope nor fear of any power,  
But thou wilt still forsake thy Saviour!  
O cruel, cruel, cruel stony heart!  
Art so resolved that Christ shall have no part?  
Can fear of hell not melt that heart of thine,  
Nor hope of heaven with Christ in it to shine.  
Dost live to follow Judas in his sin,  
That thou canst find no time to repent in?  
O wretched heart, are grown so obdurate,  
As joy nor fear are able penetrate?  
Is this the nature of that flesh and blood,  
As 'twil retain nought that may tend to good?  
Art grown so sullen in thy own esteem,  
As th'blood of Christ thou wilt not thee redeem.  
O let that blood wash off beloved sin,  
Or be assured thy Saviour comes not in.  
O do not shut the gate 'gainst that sweet guest  
In whom alone thou shalt be ever blest;  
For by him only, and by him alone  
Thou must have help, or else thou must have none:  
Then beat thy heart, and beat it under ground,  
Or be assured that Christ will not be found:  
For that which makes thy heart so hard is pride,  
A sin sufficient, though nought else beside.  
Then strive to gain humility in'ts room,  
For humble hearts are they will win the crown.  
Then strive and strive, and strive and watch, & pray  
To him is able put that pride away,  
Without great suit be sure he will not do it,  
Then pray with zeal, and he'●l be willing to it;  
And bend thou heart and hands, and knees & all,  
And on thy Saviour never lin to call,  
Till he shall please to cleanse that hollow place  
From pride, and then to fill it up with grace.  
Grant gracious God to free it from this sin,  
And many more which I have lived in.  
Sweet Jesus help, help me good Lord with speed,  
For without thee sweet Saviour I am dead:  
For my hard heart, good God, is hardened so,  
As't never fears this fatal word of Go.  
Sweet Jesus grant repentance to me, Lord,  
As thou hast promised by thy sacred word  
To he●r all them that on thy name do call,  
Then hear me Lord, or I am sure to fall.  
Grant me good God, I thee most humbly pray,  
That I from henceforth never fall away;  
But still be lifting up my heart to thee,  
And to thy name sing praise continually.  
But how can I sing praises to the Lord,  
When I have not observed his holy word,  
No● him regarded as indeed I ought  
Who with his blood hath me so dearly bought?  
But his my sin deprives me of that good  
To be obtained by Christ his precious blood:  
For my hard heart in truth cannot deny  
I've turned back when I heard my Saviour cry;  
What hope have I then that he will hear me,  
Though I come to him on my bended knee?  
Then bend and beat, and break that wicked heart  
Whose sin is cause of all my woeful smart:  
And on thy knees lift up thy heart in prayer,  
No way to heaven but by this only stair:  
Then strive t'ascend this stair on bended knees,  
Or ne'er expect thy Saviour's wrath ●'appease:  
And wash it likewise with thy briny tears,  
For no unclean thing comes to th' Saviour's ears;  
Or if it do, he'll turn his back and frown,  
And in his rage from heaven h●'●l throw it down  
Then cleanse thy heart, eject all idle thought,  
Let no unclean thing 'fore the King be brought▪  
Search every corner in that hollow cave,  
For Satan's cunning, and a hole will have  
Where he may lurk and lie to th'eye unseen,  
Still waiting on thee when thou dost not ween.  
Be careful than he do not there remain.  
For if he do he'll leave behind a stain  
Which will not out, no water will it cleanse  
But only th'oil of hearty penitence.  
Use then this oil, and mix it with thy tears,  
And wash the stair ascends up to the ears  
Of great Jehovah sitting in his throne,  
Who accepts all clean things, despiseth none.  
Then cleanse thy heart from that foul stain of sin,  
Or ne'er expect that it can enter in  
Jehovahs' sight, where nothing can appear  
But such as are from stain of sin made clear.  
Then strive to cleanse thee from all sinful thought,  
The only means which have thy body brought  
To be cast down from out thy Saviour's sight,  
Where Saints and Angels in continual light  
Conjoin themselves with those the Cherubims,  
Th'Archangels and those blessed Seraphims,  
And all the rest of that most glorious choir,  
Who joys enjoy beyond all hearts desire,  
The glorious presence of our Saviour sweet,  
The very essence of all joy complete;  
To sing the praise of that most Holy one  
Who's God of gods, and other there is none.  
Then sing my soul, and strive to apprehend  
Those heavenly joys which never shall have end.  
Use all the helps may bring thee to that place,  
Let none pass by without some use of grace.  
And so in time thou mayst thy Saviour win  
By earnest prayer for to remit thy sin.  
Then without ceasing pray continually,  
For such in time may gain eternity,  
It is the counsel of that Preacher Paul,  
Whose pains exceeded after that his call  
To come to Christ; but first he fell to ground  
Before his Saviour could by him be found  
Then fall, and fall, and fall upon thy face,  
And cry to Christ that he may grant thee grace  
To make good use of all occasions offered,  
And so avert all are by Satan proffered:  
For godly minds make godly use of all,  
Where sinful hearts make such as tend their fall  
By their submission to black Satan's wiles,  
Whereby poor man of goodness he beguiles:  
For man by nature's apt to what is ill,  
Though soul and body both thereby he kill;  
For man doth aim to please this flesh and blood,  
But sees not th'end if it do tend to good:  
For fleshly m●n sees nought but 'fore his face  
Without respect to that the spiritual grace  
The soul aims at; and so this worldly man  
Thinks worldly things, but heavenly none he can  
For earthly substance earthly matter minds,  
When heavenly substance heavenly matter finds;  
And so by th'sequel man may easily know  
When life is done, where then his soul sh●ll go.  
But few look further than this life alone,  
And so for th'next their care is little or none.  
Whereby appears to heaven there goes but few,  
And so indeed our Saviour's words made true:  
For that gate's narrow, but the other broad,  
And most men love the way that most is troad▪  
But thou my soul avoid this beaten path,  
If thou intent t'avoid the way to wrath.  
For be assured there are no more but two,  
Or that to Heaven, or that t'eternal wo.  
Let all thy care then be to avoid this,  
And eschew all may hinder th'way to bliss;  
So by observance thou mayst easily know  
Which of these two thou dost intent to go.  
Then let thy care be always God to serve,  
And by that means thou mayst thy life preserve,  
Let conscience say what thy chief care hath been,  
To serve thy Saviour, or to commit sin.  
Let no occasion pass thee without trial,  
And this in time will free thee from denial  
At that straight gate wherein so few must enter,  
So make that sure without all peradventure.  
Let this be th'chiefest of thy da●ly cares,  
And it prefer before all worldly affairs.  
For worldly actions aim at worldly ends,  
But thou my soul at that which heaven intends:  
For though thy flesh do follow earthly things,  
Let inward mind be set on King of Kings,  
Let him be always in thy outward mind,  
And then shalt thou in all thy actions find  
A means to bring thee on that narrow way,  
Where they must go, mean not to go astray,  
And then thou'lt see thy mind is ever set  
To serve thy God, and him thou'lt ne'er forget.  
For if thou dost but wash thy filthy hands,  
Thou'lt see thy Saviour then before thee stands  
To try if thou wilt wash thy heart from sin,  
And horrid life which thou hast lived in.  
And when thou puts in mouth a piece of bread,  
Think how thy Saviour then for thee was dead,  
And risen again and lives in heaven above,  
And doth desire thou come to him in love.  
Then set thyself to serve this loving God,  
And he'll preserve thee in that narrow road  
Which leads to heaven; then keep that narrow way  
And in it serve thy Saviour night and day:  
Let all thy thoughts on him alone attend,  
So be thou sure thy life in him shall end.  
But then must thou have care to serve this God,  
Or else expect to feel his heavy rod.  
For though he gaeatly doth desire thy life,  
Yet thou dost know he punished good Lot's wife.  
Presume not then that he will always be,  
As he hath hereto been to wretched thee,  
By his long-suffering thee go on in sin,  
As though his wrath had ne'er yet kindled b n.  
But thou hast seen his plagues on Egypt shown,  
And then on them he chose to be his own.  
Presume not then that he will pardon thee  
(Superfluous branch of that wild Olive tree)  
But fall with fear, and teach thy heart to tremble,  
Whose nature is with God himself dissemble.  
Because thou know'st his mercy doth abound,  
Ye thou hast seen some sawallowd by the ground  
For less offence than many of thine have been,  
Then strive to free thee from this horrid sin,  
The only cause of Sodoms sinking there,  
Where nought doth live but only horrid fear;  
Then fear this God though he be slow to anger,  
He'll smite thee down when thou thinkest least of danger.  
Forget not this, but think on't seriously,  
Lest thou repent it even immediately.  
Canst thou for pleasure in thy garden walk,  
Than not take pleasure with thy Saviour talk?  
Canst thou observe each herb in its own kind,  
And have not then thy Maker in thy mind?  
Canst thou see Lilies in thy garden grow,  
And not think Solomon ne'er was clothed so?  
When th'least of them to th'world a wonder is,  
Then let that wonder bring thy soul to bliss.  
When all on earth can not make th'mean●st there,  
Whereby the maker's Godhead doth appear  
Who with his word did make them for thy use,  
Then do not these good creatures thou abuse,  
But thankful be for these great blessings given  
To thee unworthy; lift thine eye to heaven.  
For if such glory doth on earth appear,  
Canst thou conceive what wonders may be there?  
When great Jehovah by his word doth make  
Such herbs on earth that man may pleasure take  
In serving him this gracious God above,  
Who's God alone, the God of peace and love.  
Observe each herb in it a several smell,  
But how infused no tongue on earth can tell,  
Their several shapes by th'King of heaven ordained  
And each of others by him are restrained:  
Their virtues great to th'world a wonderment,  
Infused by th'maker to give man content.  
Unthankful creatures here do meditate,  
And of these wonders deeply contemplate,  
And then thoured see the goodness of this God  
To thee poor man who dost deserve his rod,  
But that his goodness doth to thee abound,  
Who well deserves be swallowed of the ground.  
If so his mercy were not even much more  
And all his other attributes before.  
Then serve him, serve him, with a filial fear,  
Who of his bounty hath so placed thee he●e,  
As thou mayst see thy God on every side,  
Above, below, throughout the world so wide.  
Where God himself saw all was good therein,  
Then do not thou pervert it with thy sin.  
For wicked man makes wicked use of all,  
Make no such use, or else be sure to fall.  
But thou my soul use all things to that end,  
For which thy God did these great blessings send▪  
And then fear not bu● he will bless thee so,  
As from thy Saviour thou shalt never go,  
But in his service take thy whole delight,  
And therein spend thy time both day and night:  
So every object will be then a mean  
To make thee think of that good God of heaven.  
And then thy mind will set itself to serve  
Thy Saviour Christ who doth thee thus preserve  
From wicked Satan and his hellish power,  
Though he be still attending at thy door,  
To put ill thoughts into thy fickle mind,  
When thou forgets to serve thy Saviour kind.  
Forget not then to let each object move  
Thy mind to set itself on God above.  
For all the creatures which Jehovah made,  
Do show to man that he should be obeyed:  
For they were works of Gods own only hand,  
And freely all submit to his command.  
Save only man, the noblest of the res●,  
Whom he doth love, and wills he may be blest.  
And for that purpose he doth daily send  
Continual means to bring him to that end  
For which he first created him on earth,  
Where he infused with th'●oul a living breath.  
And left him free from any thought of sin,  
Till th'wily Serpent Adam en red in,  
And did with pleasure this weak man persuade  
To disrespect his God who had him made,  
By tasting that but one forbidden tree,  
The only cause of all man's misery.  
Canst then forget when dost an apple see,  
For Adam's sin how God doth punish thee?  
And if for such a (seeming) small offence,  
He punish all without a difference,  
From high to low, to th'end of generation,  
No place exempt, but even in every nation,  
Doth Adam's seed partake of th'punishment  
For Adam's sin without distinguishment:  
Then fear to sin seeing God is so severe,  
As for one sin to punish every where,  
From time to time till th'end of time be come,  
Sweet Jesus grant that word may be my doom.  
But how can I expect this doom to me,  
Of many millions one most unworthy?  
Or what's my hope who thousand sins committed,  
That th'least of them to me may be remitted,  
When many millions for one sin condemned,  
And without Christ no hope to be redeemed?  
O fearful, fearful! What more fearful is,  
Then for one sin mankind deprived of bliss?  
Consider wretch, what thy whole life hath been,  
And then thou'lt see no hour without some sin:  
If th'dost but mark what thou thyself hast done,  
Thou hast forsworn both Father and though Son.  
For knowingly thou hast him disobeyed,  
Let conscience say if this can be denied.  
See it be judge of all thou goest about,  
'twil say thou'st sinned even all thy life throughout,  
And so th● sins to millions will amount,  
If thou wert able of them keep account.  
But though thou fail in numbering of them all,  
Thy Saviour can and will t'account thee call.  
And then thou'lt wish that thou hadst ne'er been born  
In sin to live, in sin to die forlorn.  
Then well consider what was Adam's sin,  
Once disobeying Gods command therein.  
What for that sin was Gods just punishment,  
And it will strike thee with astonishment.  
Then think how many sins thou hast committed,  
And what's thy hope that they may be remitted?  
When for one sin mankind was all condemned,  
If that by Christ they shall not be redeemed.  
And then thou'lt think what may be due for thine,  
Think of this deeply, and think on't in time:  
Keeped in thy mind, thou cannot keeped too much,  
A goodly theme, do thou conceit it such:  
And leave not thinking of it all thy life,  
Lest justly thou be punished like Lot's wife;  
For God is ready of an instant smite thee,  
And so is Satan ever to indite thee,  
And for that purpose he's on thee attending,  
And so will be until thy life be ending.  
In thought of this be sure to have a care  
That Satan do not smite thee with despair:  
But still be mindful Christ did die for thee,  
And will defend thee for eternity:  
But then must thou obey him in thy heart,  
And look each sin do breed in thee a smart.  
When dost remember Adam's only sin,  
For all of thine what danger thou art in;  
But that thy God doth suffer thee to live,  
And for thy sins such blessings doth thee give,  
As thou mayst justly say his mercy's great,  
When by his bounty he doth thee entreat  
To come to him, and faithfully him serve,  
As conscience knows his goodness doth deserve.  
Then for his goodness fear him to offend,  
Retain such fear until thy life shall end.  
And it may help for to amend thy course,  
Which conscience knows is each day worse & worse,  
Because thou minds not that thy God is just,  
And on a sudden may smite thee to dust▪  
Remember these, and none of them forget,  
They'll be a means that Christ may come to set  
Thee with himself, where thou shalt live for aye,  
And sing his praises in a joyful ray.  
So sing my soul the praises of this God,  
Who gives thee blessings in lieu of's heavy rod:  
Be yielding thanks to his most holy name,  
Who was, is now, and aye shall be the same.  
Let all thy life show thou dost thankful prove  
To this good God, the God of peace and love;  
Who doth desire that thou mayst leave thy sin,  
And lieu of Satan let thy Saviour in:  
Look he be always in thy inward thought,  
And he will let no ill to thee be brought:  
And aim at nought but what gives him content;  
Or if rhou dost, be sure of it repent.   

Canst thou observe the rising of the Sun,  
And then not think the Son of man's to come?  
Thou seest the glory of it doth appear  
Throughout the world to all both far and near:  
Thou dost discern the greatness of that light  
Doth make a difference between day and night;  
Thou hast the sense to see it comfort brings  
To every kind whatsoever created things,  
Th'effects of both to all on earth are shown,  
As well to strangers as to those his own,  
All creatures are of its great good partaker,  
And in their kind for it they praise their Maker.  
Observe the greatness of its glorious shine,  
Whereto none's like it saving that Divine:  
Then if in th'creature there such glory be,  
What is in him that made both it and thee?  
Th' Arabians, they do find its extreme hot,  
But th' English feel its goodness, though remote.  
The Indians, they some black, some tawny turned,  
But th' English, we with scorching are not burned.  
With us it makes the earth itself rejoice,  
And all therein with joy lift up their voice:  
When Birds and Bees, and every creeping thing  
Sing forth the praises of their heavenly King,  
And every beast and creature of the field  
To this their Maker all due thanks do yield,  
Save thankless man who hath received more  
Than all the rest, of God's abundant store,  
Because forgetful of this gracious God,  
And for our good beat with his heavy rod.  
Thou shameless man let these poor creatures move thee  
Like them with joy to praise this God above thee,  
And yield him thanks for all his goodness given  
To thee unworthy lift thy eye to heaven,  
Where great Jehovah knoweth by his power  
The lighting down of th' sparrow at they door,  
And every secret that thy heart can think,  
Whereof take notice lest thou come to sink  
Into that Tophet which God hath prepared  
For such as do not yield him due regard.  
Thou thankless man, think how this God hath blest thee,  
Before he send his servant Death t'arrest thee:  
Observe with care of what good thou partaker,  
When some do worship this the Sun for th'maker▪  
What difference great between the day and night,  
They live in darkness, though we live in light.  
Then since thy God hath showed himself to thee,  
Unworthy wretch, towards him to lift thine eye,  
Prove not forgetful of this good the greatest  
To thee poor man of millions one the meanest.  
When thou perceives the Sun reflects on thee,  
Forget not then for sinners Christ did die.  
And when he yielded up his glorious Ghost,  
The Sun did then forgo his brightness most,  
As though it sorrowed for to see him die,  
Who yet doth live, and shall eternally:  
Canst thou but mark the setting of the Sun,  
And then forget the Son of man did come  
Down from the heavens where glory doth abound  
Unto this earth, where nothing can be found  
But earthly things, 'mongst whom he lived here,  
And took on him the shape which thou dost beat,  
Both flesh and bone, and every several limb,  
Yet always free from the least thought of sin,  
Whereby he taught thee how thou ought to live,  
In serving God, and to him praises give;  
Praise him, praise him, praise him continually,  
Who was so pleased for sinful man to die:  
Forget not then when canst not see the sun,  
To think how Christ down to this earth did come  
To gain thee to him, and with him to live:  
Then yield him thanks, and to him praises give,  
Who did endure the torments due to thee,  
A wretch, a wretch, a wretch most unworthy.  
Fellow his example; then thou needst not fear  
Tho th' Prince of darkness do to thee appear:  
For if he shall, he hath no power to hurt thee,  
If thou hast faith, fear not, Christ will defend thee,  
And grant thee strength for to withstand his power  
Tho he assault thee every day and hour:  
But thou must strive and ne'er be drawn to yield,  
For if thou dost be sure to lose the field.   

Expect this Fiend to have him fall upon thee,  
Since he spared not thy Saviour who did make thee  
But carried him into the wilderness,  
Making expression of great holiness:  
For when he fasted had full forty days,  
Being hungry then, the tempter to him says,  
If thou be Christ the Son of God indeed,  
Command these stones that they may be made bread  
But he replied, Life's not by bread alone,  
But by the words which come from God each one.  
And yet the tempter did not leave him thus,  
(No marvel then if he do so with us)  
But set him on the Temples highest stone,  
And willed him thence to throw his body down;  
Seeing it is writ his Angels shall protect thee,  
Lest dash of stone at any time may hurt thee.  
But answering he replied this holy word,  
'Tis writ, thou shalt not tempt thy God the Lord.  
Yet still the tempter did not give him over,  
But set him higher where he might discover  
Even all th'earth's kingdoms then within his eyes,  
And th'glory of them did to him descry;  
And said, if he would fall and worship him,  
He freely would bestow them all on him:  
But Jesus then bid Satan to be gone,  
Saying, thou shalt worship only God alone,  
And only him, none other shalt thou serve.  
Do so my soul, 'twill thee from death preserve.  
So Satan left him, and the Angels came  
And fed him then in great Jehovah's name.   

Observe, my soul, the subtlety of this Spirit,  
Alleging Scripture 'gainst the meaning of it,  
To private ends, his fancy for to please,  
Without respect how it did God displease.  
Then fear the spirit, make trial if it be of God,  
Or else be sure he'll send his heavy rod  
To punish such as aim to wrest the truth:  
But cleave to it, as did to Naomi Ruth.  
Take th'sacred sense, beware of any wresting,  
With holy things be sure there be no jesting:  
Apply not places to thy private sense,  
Lest pleasing thee, may give thy God offence.  
Read with great reverence when thou readest such  
An humble heart helps understanding much.  
Make use of this, and here observe with care  
How by ill spirits the Scaiptures wrested are,  
And uses made unto some wicked end:  
The Lord of life me from such spirits defend!  
For these Expositors Scriptures do expound  
'Gainst ancient writers, men much more profound  
Who spent their lives in following that profession  
which is now gained by some few mouths possession:  
They studied hard before they could obtain it,  
But some new teachers think but light to gain it;  
And when they purpose to the people preach,  
They think it Gospel whatsoever they teach,  
Without respect what our forefathers told,  
Or what hath been in those the days of old:  
As though by nature Learning now were gained,  
When God doth know it is by some profaned.  
But thou my soul such shallow places read,  
As thou mayst wade them without any dread;  
And leave the deeps for such have art to swim  
Whatsoever seas of deeps they do come in:  
Learn no such art, but leave't to them that think  
No sea so deep wherein they cannot sink.  
The Lord of host deliver me from such thought,  
For his sweet sake hath me so dearly bought:  
And keep me safe from this presumptuous sin,  
And many more which I have lived in.  
For 'spiring minds are seldom satisfied,  
Although their wisdom be but folly tried.  
But thou my soul, let others folly teach  
Thee be content with that's within thy reach:  
Make godly use of what thy God hath given,  
And by such use thou'lt keep the way to heaven:  
Keep that way still, let nothing turn thee out,  
Then God will prosper all thou goest about.   

Though for the present he may please to try  
Lest in affliction thou wilt him deny:  
As that just Job, whom Satan could not touch,  
Although the Serpent's power did tempt him much  
But he used all temptations to good ends,  
Observe his strength for to withstand his friends:  
Take his example when thou tempted art,  
And have a care thou do perform his part,  
Observe his carriage, let his patience move thee  
To serve thy Maker who entirely loves thee:  
Although he teach thee with his heavy hand,  
He will in th'end give thee thy hearts demand.  
But then thou must not curse thy God and die;  
For if thou dost, 'tis death eternally,  
And such a death as cannot be redeemed  
With all th'earth's wealth how much soer esteemed.  
Respect no pleasure nor no cruel pain  
Whatsoever thou suffer, so that heaven thou gain:  
Let no affliction alter thy resolve,  
Althoed be such as life on earth dissolve;  
For that this life on earth cannot be long,  
And then there's hope thou'lt sing a heavenly song  
Among the Saints, where glory doth abound  
Beyond the reach of th'best on earth are found:  
For earthly minds unable are conceive  
What heavenly comfort Saints in heaven receive  
By th'glorious presence of that King of Kings,  
Who doth abhor the sight of sinful things,  
But casts them down to that infernal lake  
Where all must live that do of sin prrtake.  
Then fear to sin, and always it eschew  
Like death itself, lest thou may come to rut,  
And fall to curse the time of thy birthday,  
And to thyself thou thus lament and say:   

Have I spent full out seventy years in sin?  
Have I this while in them uncareful been  
What shall befall me after I am dead?  
What is it I have oft had in my head?  
Have I esteemed this life as if immortal,  
And after death of life to be but mortal?  
Have I so much this wicked world esteemed,  
As of this death I have but only dreamt?  
Have I felt limbs how they grow stiff and weak,  
And cannot see how fast my life doth break?  
Have I observed that my eyes grow blind,  
And cannot know that even so doth my mind?  
Have I discerned my memory to fail,  
And cannot find my vital parts to quail?  
Have I seen wrinkles in my withered skin,  
And cannot see my life is weak within?  
Have I observed my hair to fall away,  
Yet cannot feel my life is in decay?  
Doth not the baldness of my hoary head  
Discover how my inward parts are dead?  
Can I feel stitches in my hollow side,  
And cannot feel my life away to glide?  
Have I a shortness in my inward breath,  
And will not know it tendeth towards death?  
Hath not my head endured excessive pain,  
Not taking notice death hath seized my brain?  
Do I feel stomach grown exceeding weak,  
And cannot feel how fast my life doth break?  
Do I perceive my ears grow thick of hearing,  
And such my eyes will not see death appearing?  
Shall I not taste this pill of bitter gall,  
Though I discern that death doth daily call?  
Will nothing draw me th'scent of death to smell,  
Till he have thrown me down to th' deepest hell?  
Are not my senses senseless grown even all,  
Yet not discern 'tis death that doth them call?  
Will nothing make these senseless creatures fear,  
Till they be thrown upon the fatal bear?  
Are they all agreed to struggle with this death,  
Tho with that struggling they do lose their breath?  
Hath not death taken my right eye away,  
And I not think my left eye shall decay?  
Do I know thousands, thousands slain in field,  
And can forget that I to death must yield?  
Can I think how my dearest friends are dead,  
Yet my own death not once to trouble my head?  
Are there not some my children gone before,  
And I not think myself shall make them more?  
Do I discern my bony teeth decay,  
And cannot see my life's in the same way?  
Have I felt weakness in my body all,  
And cannot feel how God doth on me call?  
Are not my ears grown very slow to hear,  
And such my eyes will not see death appear?  
Have I been sick, and stood no fear of death,  
But still in hope I should retain my breath?  
Have I lived full out seventy years and three,  
And still expect that I shall live till eighty?  
Have I escaped dangers great and many,  
And therefore think death will not come with any?  
Hath not my heart took much more great delight  
In doing wrong, then doing that is right?  
O wretched beast, art so to sin given over,  
As thou'lt comply with Satan more and more?  
Will nothing draw thee for to serve thy God,  
Till thou be beaten with his heavy rod?  
Am I so taken with beloved sin,  
As my amendment I will ne'er begin?  
Wilt not be frighted with the sight of hell,  
Till thou be thrown into it there to dwell?  
Will my stiff heart for sickness sigh and groan,  
And for its sin will not so much as moan?  
Can I observe my marrowless bones grow dry,  
And cannot see that now my death is nigh?  
Have I run out all this my life in pleasure,  
And for repentance never could find leisure?  
Hath not my conscience often me reproved,  
And have not I therewith been nothing moved?  
Have not my senses all of them offended,  
And have not I been often reprehended?  
Heth not my heart been pleased even much more  
In serving Satan then my Saviour?  
Hath not my heart delighted in delay,  
And have not I wished in my sin to stay?  
Have I not dearly loved this fleshly lust,  
And still forgot myself to be but dust?  
Have I not watched opportunity  
That I might sin with much more delecacie?  
Have I such horrid wickedness committed,  
And have I many such good deeds omitted?  
Have I sought time that I might commit sin,  
And none could find that I might repent in?  
Have I had care for gaining worldly wealth,  
And ne'er respected any spiritual health?  
Have I been going Babel's way t●ll now,  
And shall I still my knees to Baal bow?  
Have not my members always sin obeyed,  
And spiritual motions have they not denied?  
Hath not my heart been ever hardened so,  
As thought of death could breed in it no woe?  
Hath not my heart so hard and stony been,  
As judgements moved not, though by me seen?  
Have I seen some were suddenly struck dead,  
And yet it bred no scruple in my head?  
Have I heard sin reproved with greatest zeal,  
And it from s n me nought at all repeal?  
Have I heard hell to be at full described,  
Yet I thereby was nothing terrified?  
O wretched heart, thy conscience can thee tell  
That thou hast wished there was nor heavn nor hell;  
For if not so, it surely would appear  
That thou didst stand of this great God in fear.  
Say, couldst thou take it for a friendly deed  
If friend with be●ting make thy body bleed?  
Wilt thou imagine it a friendly part  
For to endeavour stab thy friend to th' heart?  
Canst thou presume retain a faithful friend  
By abusing him for gaining thy own end?  
Canst thou conceive that flesh and blood should suffer  
Such vile abuse as thou to Christ dost offer?  
Canst thou ere think to gain thy father's blessing,  
When thou turnest back & with thy heel dost kick him?  
Canst see thy father come unto thee kneeling  
And yet it work in thy hard heart no feeling?  
Canst see thy father in thy quarrel suffer,  
Yet no assistance thou wilt to him offer?  
Canst see thy father slain in thy defence,  
And yet it work in thee no penitence?  
Canst see thy father only for thy sake  
All bloody gasping, and no help wilt make?  
Canst see thy father by thy enemy slain,  
And yet that enemy thou'lt in love retain?  
Canst see thy father kneeling fore thy face,  
Yet thou'lt revile him with all soul disgrace?  
Canst see thy father kneel unto thee weeping,  
Yet thou to slight him with a countenance laughing  
Hath any man a heart is hardened so  
Will not relent to see his father's woe?  
Are these affronts unto an earthly father,  
And yet are none unto thy heaunly Saviour?  
Canst think no d fference 'twixt an injury done  
Unto thy Saviour and to thine own son?  
Canst thou presume that God will pardon such  
Wherewith an earthly father would think much?  
When father friend, nor son, nor self, nor all  
Are with thy Saviour worthy of name equal.  
O wretched, wretched, wretched heart that sees  
thou'rt filled with such, & some far worse than these;  
And yet canst think thy conscience may dissemble,  
Because all these cannot make th'heart to tremble?  
Have I them all, and many more such seen,  
And yet my heart thereby no better been?  
Have I esteemed more of an earthly father  
Then I have done of that my heavenly Saviour?  
Have I more dreaded father to offend  
Then him who did my life unto me lend?  
Have I beheld him bleeding for my sake,  
And yet that blood my heart could nothing shake?  
Do I delight in gulping up sweet wine,  
And yet forget Christ shed his blood for mine?  
Am I as joyful to Jehovah pray,  
As with my friend to trifle time away?  
Hath not my heart been joyed in jesting more  
Than pouring prayers to my sweet Saviour?  
Have I not joyed with friend to jest and talk  
More then with Jesus sadly for to walk?  
Have I in me a heart is made of steel,  
●o hard as it no good at all can feel?  
Can I retain a fear lest man should see,  
And care not though my God beholdeth me?  
Shall I fear more that brings a mortal shame,  
Then that which doth bring me eternal blame?  
Doth th'eye of man deter me from my sin,  
And th'eye of God have no power me within?  
Have I discerned this weakness in my mind,  
And cannot see 'tis Satan makes me blind?  
Examine conscience, see what it now saith;  
For it well knows thou hast not any faith,  
Not yet dost think that there is any good,  
Although he beat thee with his heavy rod:  
Yet thou perchance wilt say thou dost believe,  
But that even then the serpent did bereave  
The thought of heaven out of thy faint weak heart  
And would not suffer conscience play his part;  
Who knoweth well that though thy tongue say so,  
Thy stony heart within thee will say no:  
For it doth use, and love with God dissemble,  
Or else no doubt with fear 'twould shake & tremble;  
Seeing neither hope of heaven nor fear of hell  
Can win this heart as conscience can thee tell.  
O hypocrite, leave off with God dissembling  
And pray him please to smite this heart with trembling  
This stony heart who thinks God doth not see,  
Because even then he's not in heart with thee:  
But when thou comes unto thy God again,  
And he so please with thee a while remain,  
Thy tongue will then confess thou hast offended  
And for thy sin most justly reprehended;  
But conscience knows thy heart is broken nought  
But still the same, and aye doth yield to aught:  
The Serpent offers to the fickle mind,  
Rejecting Christ thy God and Saviour kind:  
So as thy tongue may seem to praise his name,  
Yet is thy heart even still the very same,  
Involved in sin, and therein takes delight,  
Although thy conscience tell thee 'tis not right;  
And then perchance thou wilt presume that he,  
Although thou sin, yet still will pardon thee:  
And so thou spends this time of grace in sin,  
As if for sinning death had never been.  
But think not so, but think thy Saviour stands  
Before thy face, two tables in his hands,  
Wherein are writ our duty there commanded,  
And its observance now by him demanded.  
Canst thou reply, thou sinned in hope of grace?  
Fie, sin not so, let such hope have no place  
Within thy heart; but then think death is come  
With thy desert; O fearful fatal doom!  
Consider wretch, and think what this may be,  
Thou'lt find it prove a fatal doom to thee,  
When neither hills nor mountains can thee hid,  
But still before that just Judge thou must bide,  
Till thou do hear this sentence there pronounced,  
That for thy sin thou art of God renounced.  
Canst thou now sin, and then not think of this,  
Thou must be cast from out eternal bliss?  
Where's then that hope wherein thou hast presumed  
When death is come, and all thy days consumed;  
And then no hope of any longer stay,  
But doomed by death to Satan for a pray.  
Canst thou now sin, and not lay this to heart?  
O lay't betime, lest soul and body part?  
O sinful soul, take notice of thy sin,  
Lest death do come before thou dost begin!  
O now begin, and that without delay,  
Lest death arrest thee'fore to morrow day.  
When soul must suffer for the body's sin,  
And careless life which it hath lived in,  
Without so much as any one day's account  
To what a height thy sins that day will mount.  
Begin this day, and so go on to th' end,  
And by that course thou'lt see how life doth mend.  
Neglect not this, but use it constantly,  
Lest thou be taken unprovided die.  
Be watchful then, and always be provided,  
'Gainst soul and body come to be divided.  
Provide for this, can no way be eschewed,  
And let this course by all means be ensued:  
And so in time there may be hope of gain,  
Or else expect in heaven to have no place.  
Strive for that place, and strive, and strive again,  
For without Christ thy labour's all in vain.  
And fast and pray upon thy bended knees,  
To him, who thee and all thy actions sees;  
And ne'er forget thou canst not void his sight,  
Who doth discern thy heart in darkest night.  
And now my soul, do thou observe with care,  
What over-weenings in thy judgement are:  
If thou didst know it be an others fact  
Couldst thou approve on't for a lawful act?  
Wouldst thou allow that in thy only son,  
Which thou thyself hast now but newly done?  
Art not ashamed that thou shouldst do a thing,  
Which were not lawful, though done by a King?  
Canst thou espy thy brother's mote unknown,  
Yet canst not see the beam is in thy own?  
Will't thou be mindful of another's ill,  
Yet careless how thou bringst thyself to hell?  
Were eyes, given thee to look into another,  
And thy own sins in thy own breast to smother?  
Canst thou have feeling of thy friend's offence,  
And canst not see thyself is void of sense?  
Canst thou see faults within thy brother shine,  
Yet canst not think that he again seethe thine?  
Will't thou allow thy senses always room,  
And ne'er attend to aught that's done at home;  
Were senses sent to show thy brothers fail,  
Without respect what tends to thine avail.  
A wise man may make use of others ill,  
And by their faults observe his own to kill.  
Will't thou it be foul if't be another's fact,  
And yet be fair if it be but thy own act?  
Is there such difference in a brother's blood,  
what's ill in th'one, is in the other good?  
If any such, it is of their own making,  
And not of judgement, but of mere mistaking.  
Art thou resolved to die as thou dost live,  
And canst expect that God will thee forgive?  
But though thy sins be to this world unknown,  
Assure thyself that hell will have its own:  
And though thy Saviour still do suffer thee  
In thy own sins which he makes known to thee  
By his holy Spirit, who daily doth attend  
Upon thy heart to see if thou wilt mend;  
Yet do not think he'll do as he hath done,  
In often calling that thou'lt to him come;  
But rather think that he hath given thee over  
Unto thyself, without hope to recover.  
So as thou'lt see that thy sad and weak estate,  
As Judas-like become, be reprobate.  
O woe's my heart, neer' yet could harbour woe,  
Though often threatened with this word of Go  
Thou cursed, cursed, into th' hell of fire,  
Where thou must burn without hope to retire.  
O cry, O cry, cry to thy Saviour sweet,  
And never cease till he shall please to meet  
Thy humble heart, and grant it some remorse,  
Which daily's grown each day be worse & worse.  
Sweet Jesus come, good Lord I humbly pray,  
And drive that Satan far from me away.  
For he hath drawn me from my God and King,  
Who's worthy praise I am ever bound to sing.  
Sweet Jesus hear me, hear me Lord I pray,  
And hear me so, as I may ever stay,  
And never more so fall as I have done,  
But aye expect this blessed word of Come.  
But I am still as I have ever been,  
O'ercome with mine own best beloved sin,  
And have no strength for to withstand his power,  
Doth thus torment me every day and hour.   

O woe's my heart that erst it should be born  
To live so long, and now to die forlorn.  
O woe' my heart, that Christ should weep for me,  
And it not draw one tear from out mine eye.  
O woe' my heart, that Christ should die for me,  
Yet wretched I by is death no better be.    


O woe' my heart, he calls me to embrace,  
Yet I decline him by my want of grace.  
O woe' my heart that erst it should be born,  
To make my Saviour wear a crown of thorn.  
O woe' my heart, his tender hands should feel  
These rents for me, and only for my we'll.  
O woe' my heart, his side was pierced for me,  
And yet my heart from feeling thereof free.  
O woe' my heart, his feet were nailed to th' tree,  
And yet that nailing nothing trouble me.  
O woe' my heart, that cannot feel his stripes,  
Were able fill a stony heart with gripes.  
O woe' my heart, 'tis not in sunder torn,  
To see my Saviour bide for me such scorn.  
O woe' my heart, he endured this for my we'll,  
And I want grace his grievous torments feel.  
O woe' my heart, he gave his life for me,  
Yet wretched I in him nor live nor die.  
O woe' my heart, he should for me be sent,  
Yet want of grace will not let me repent.  
O woe' my heart, it should so hardened be,  
As that his sufferings have not softened me.  
O woe' my heart, it is on sin so set,  
As all his torments it doth quite forget.  
O woe' my heart, it will not bleed for woe,  
To think that Satan hath now made it so.  
O woe' my heart, that nothing can it bring  
To serve my Saviour and my heavenly King.  
O woe' my heart, he should me thus respect,  
Yet want of grace to make me him neglect.  
O woe' my heart, that he should shed his blood  
For me, and yet it work in me no good.  
O woe' my heart, can nothing thee remove  
From love of hell, to look at heaven above?  
O woe' my heart, so taken with thy sin  
And horrid life which thou hast lived in.  
O woe' my heart, thou wilt not sin forsake,  
And to thy Saviour's service thee betake.  
O woe' my heart, neglects God's service so,  
As breach of Sabbath breeds in me no wo.  
O woe' my heart, will not spend Sabbath day,  
In serving God, and in his service stay.  
O woe' my heart, not one day in a week,  
Shall I serve God, and his true honour seek?  
O woe' my heart, I have delighted more  
In serving Satan then my Saviour.  
O woe' my heart, that's drawn with such delight,  
To follow th' wrong, and forsake that is right.  
O woe' my heart, that's from thy Saviour straying,  
Whenas thy tongue is for thy pardon praying.  
O woe' my heart, I have less loved and used  
The Church, than th'Alehouse, where God is abused.  
O woe' my heart, that dost haunt Taverns more  
Than dost the Church, to serve thy Saviour.  
O woe' my heart, thou shouldst so graceless be,  
To neglect him who thus respecteth thee.  
O woe' my heart, it should so love its will,  
As what is good it calls by name of ill.  
O woe' my heart, as filled with such ill blood,  
As what is ill it gives it name of good.  
O woe' my heart, it should so stupid be,  
As follow Mammon, though thou dost him see.  
O woe' my heart, that seest thy way is broad,  
And yet wilt not forsake that common road.  
O woe' my heart, that sees hell 'fore thy face,  
And yet goes on for want of better grace.  
O woe' my heart, will not be drawn return,  
Although thou seest black hell before thee burn.  
O woe' my heart, shall neither hell nor heaven  
Remove away from thee this wicked leaven?  
O woe' my heart, that thou shouldst be resolved  
Forsake thy Saviour till thou be dissolved.  
O woe' my heart, shall nothing thee remove,  
To leave this hell, and aim at heaven above?  
O woe' my heart, it is not filled with woes,  
To leave heavens path, and take that to hell goes.  
O woe' my heart, it will not burst to think  
What I am writing with this pen of ink.  
O woe' my heart, that it should guide my hand,  
And yet itself the way of God withstand.  
O woe' my heart, my hand should point the path,  
And yet my heart should follow th'way to wrath.  
O woe' my heart, it should this hellhound love,  
And so forsake this gracious God above.  
O woe' my heart, it should so stupid be,  
As 'twill go on, although it Satan see.  
O woe' my heart, that Christ came me to call,  
And yet towards him I will not go at all.  
O woe' my heart, it is so idly given,  
As that 'gainst idleness I have never striven.  
O woe' my heart, so taken with delight  
Of what is wrong, but seldom what is right.  
O woe' my heart with more delight wilt look  
On news, though toys, then on a pious book.  
O woe' my heart, spends time in earthly toys,  
Neglecting that which tends to heavenly joys.  
O woe' my heart, that nothing will delight thee,  
But things indeed which rather ought to fright thee.  
O woe' my heart, will break thy sleep for sin,  
Yet wilt not wake to let thy Saviour in,  
O woe' my my heart, that will to Satan yield,  
When they must fight intent to win the field.  
O woe' my heart, that's hollowed so within,  
As 'twill retain nought but beloved sin.  
O woe' my heart, how great hath been thy care,  
From time to time thy rent for to prepare,  
Lest that thy Landlord might for it distrain,  
Or turn thee out, though Term by Lease remain?  
O woe' my heart, how little thy regard  
To serve thy Christ, who with his blood prepared  
A farm for thee in heaven, whose worth is such,  
As there's no breast that can conceive how much,  
O woe' my heart, what difference there hath been,  
Twixt this on earth, and that thy Farm in heaven!  
How great thy care to pay thy Landlord's rent,  
How light regard for th' Saviour's discontent!  
O woe' my heart, that strives to pass away,  
What without pastime will not with thee stay.  
O woe' my heart, that thy care should be more  
To serve this Satan then they Saviour.  
O woe' my heart, lov'st better Satan serve,  
Then him who doth indeed thy life preserve.  
O woe' my heart, that hastens time to run,  
But when th' end comes, I fear thou wilt it shun.  
O woe' my heart, still strivest set that away,  
Which tends to nothing but to thy decay.  
O woe' my heart, that's careful for thy sleep,  
Yet careless how thyself from sin to keep.  
O woe' my heart, more curious of thy taste,  
Then of thy time which hourly thou dost waste.  
O woe' my heart, so careful keep a watch,  
How worldly toys thou mayst in time dispatch.  
Yet careless how thou triflest time away,  
Which tends to nothing but to thy decay.  
O woe' my heart, will not observe that end,  
For which thy God did time unto thee lend.  
Thou art careful know by th' clock what's time of day  
Yet careless how thou setst this time away.  
O woe' my heart, thinks time well spent in toys,  
And cannot relish aught tends heavenly joys.  
O woe' my heart, will spend thy time in play,  
Which conscience knows thou'lt rue another day.  
O woe' my heart, is ever apt to ill,  
Though soul and body both of them it kill.  
O woe' my heart, that conscience can me tell,  
How I 'gainst conscience often did rebel.  
O woe' my heart, shall conscience me accuse?  
My conscience knoweth my Saviour I refuse.  
Must my own conscience make my sins account?  
It knoweth that they do many millions mount.  
O wretched heart, thy conscience can now say,  
That thou thy conscience never wouldst obey.  
O wretched heart, conscience blames thee for all,  
Thou wouldst not hear, though God himself did call.  
O wretched heart, thy conscience doth now show,  
How all thy life thou didst to Baal bow.  
O wretched heart, that is bewitched so,  
With that which brings both soul and body wo.  
O wretched heart, so taken with that's ill,  
As to that's good thou'lt not restrain thy will.  
O wretched heart, thus to be drawn away,  
With that which only tends to thy decay.  
O wretched heart, that hast been hardened so.  
As it never stood in fear of this word Go.  
O wretched heart, 'tis thee, and thee alone,  
Who beareth blame for senses every each one;  
For they say plainly they were bound to obey:  
To what the heart said, they did ne'er say nay.  
Thy eye seethe nothing but what th' heart approves;  
Yet oftener ill than any good it loves.  
The hands feel nothing but what th' heart commands,  
And sometimes that which th' law of God withstands  
The ears are deaf, unless the heart give way;  
But to that's ill they seldom do say nay.  
The palat's pleased with nought, if th' heart say no,  
Yet oftentimes with that brings th' body wo.  
The nose is stopped, except the heart comply;  
But what doth please, it seldom doth deny.  
The will mongst these doth seem to carry a stroke,  
Yet heart at pleasure can the will revoke.  
All other members of the corpse give way  
Unto the heart, and it they all obey:  
So as the heart guides all by its own will,  
And is the root of all the bodies ill.  
O wretched, wretched, wretched, heart to see,  
That all what's ill proceeds alone from thee.  
Which conscience knows and will at large relate,  
What thy sins are, and what shall be thy fate.  
And then thou'lt see, that Apple Adam eat  
Did prove to him and his a poisoned meat:  
For thy desires are for the most part such  
As do partake of Adam's sin in much;  
And are indeed even so insatiate,  
As reason is not able moderate.  
Say 'twere in thee for to obtain thy will,  
'Tis to be thought 'twould have less good than ill.  
If thou mightst do whatsoever thou dost desire,  
Canst think 'twould free thee from th'infernal fire?  
Hast thou not been even often overtaken  
Desiring things, though Christ thereby forsaken?  
Have thy desires at best been ever such,  
As they were free from wicked sinful touch?  
Let conscience say what thy desires have been,  
'Tis but too true they'll be condemned for sin.  
Thou cursed heart, wilt ne'er be able see  
how subtle Satan hath deluded thee?  
Shall th' Serpent dwell within thy hollow heart,  
And wilt thou ne'er admit him to departed?  
Thou canst not choose but know that he is there,  
And yet thou wilt not will him to forbear.  
It seems thou dost approve on's company well,  
Although thou knowst it doth conduce to hell,  
Or else wouldst thou refuse to harbour him,  
Who doth endeavour invite all to sin.  
O wicked heart, wilt ne'er amend thy course,  
But still continue each day worse and worse?  
Lay but thy hand upon thy hollow heart,  
And feel if heaven or hell have better part.  
But it doth use and love for to dissemble,  
And hazard all, before 'twill turn or tremble;  
And yet confess it follows needful things:  
But hear thy Saviour who is king of Kings,  
And he will tell thy double fleshly heart,  
That Mary she hath chose the better part.  
Then take this better, and forsake that worse,  
Lest thou incur that fearful doleful curse  
Of Go thou cursed, Go receive thy hire;  
A just reward; even hell, eternal fire.  
O turn, O turn, O turn, thou wicked heart,  
Or ne'er expect in Christ have any part,  
Now hear thy Saviour; hear him, he doth call,  
Thou'lt be but so as Agrippa said to Paul,  
Thou hast almost turned me. O do thou turn;  
Except thou mean in hell for ever burn:  
Though't be but little, yet it may in time,  
By help of Christ, wash off thy sinful crime.  
Pray for his help, laid down his life for thee;  
For he desires that thou mayst live, not die,  
Sweet Jesus further my desire of turning,  
That it may free me from this fearful burning.  
Examine th' conscience, it will not dissemble;  
But tell the truth, if thy hard heart do tremble:  
Be often rubbing it, to keeped from sleep;  
At death be sure it will thee waking keep,  
Guide all thy actions by thy conscience square,  
And it will help thy way to heaven prepare.  
O sweep thy house, and let thy Saviour come:  
'Tis he alone must free thee from that doom  
Of Go thou cursed into fiery hell,  
And there do thou with Satan ever dwell.  
In that dark fire, which Dives knoweth is hot,  
Although nor soul nor body there do rot,  
But still continue fuel without wasting,  
And so shall be without, end everlasting.  
O horrid, horrid, wilt thou not return,  
But still resolve in that black fire to burn?  
Will nothing fear thee from this future woe,  
As if thy heart did love this word of God?  
Art yet the same which thou hast ever been?  
Will nothing fright thee from beloved sin?  
Canst thou conceive 'twill equalise thy pain,  
From whence be sure shalt ne'er return again?   

Bewail thy case; and now observe cockcrow,  
And call to mind how Peter he did so:  
When he heard cock, he went out straight to weep;  
I hear him crow, yet keep my bed and sleep.  
When he heard cock, he went out at first crow;  
I hear him often, yet will not do so.  
Peter's denials they were only three;  
But mine, if counted, more than millions be.  
He saw his sin, and then he did refrain it;  
I see my sin, but yet I still retain it.  
He loved his Master, and did follow him nigh;  
But I loved sin▪ and from my Saviour fly.  
He heard the cock, and then he saw his sin;  
But though I see it, I still retain it within,  
Peter was sent, that he to me might preach;  
Yet have his words no power my heart to reach.  
His words and life are both I see even such  
I know they are, but not respect them much.  
He heard the cock, and then he did repent;  
I heard him often, yet will not relent.  
Though Peter sinned, repentance gained remission;  
I commit sin yet to repent omission.  
When Peter sinned, he saw it, and did refuse it;  
I see my sin, yet still resolve to use it.  
O wretch, O wretch, O wretch, wilt ne'er return,  
Till thou be doomed in that dark fire to burn!  
Will nothing draw thee say this Satan no,  
As though thou lov'st this fatal word of God?  
Canst thou expect thy Saviour shall retain thee,  
When thou dost know that Satan's self hath gained thee?  
Thou art ready pressed hear Satan at first call,  
But thy blessed Saviour thou'lt not hear at all.  
Peter heard th' cock & made use of his preaching,  
Thou hearest Peter, without use of his teaching.  
Each creature taught this Peter for to pray;  
But all created thy sin cannot stay.  
Peter was left to bring unto thee life;  
Yet thou lov'st sin, as Satan loveth strife.  
Peter did weep, and did his sin forbear;  
But thou sinnest still, yet cannot shed one tear.  
With Peter's sin, his heart was mollified;  
But mine with sin is rather stupefied.  
O wicked heart, art not ashamed to see  
How all thy sins have nothing softened thee?  
Art so resolved, as nothing shall remove thee  
To leave this Satan, though thou seest he loves thee?  
Consider well the cause of this his love;  
Because thou hast forsworn thy God above.  
O Jesus▪ Jesus, have I thee forsworn,  
Who came from heaven and on this earth was born,  
For to redeem me from this bond of sin.  
And horrid life which I have lived in;  
And here endured the pains of death for me  
In hope I should from this foul Satan fly.  
And notwithstanding shall I follow him still,  
Forsaking good, and following what is ill?  
O weep, O weep even rivers of salt tears,  
To keep thee free from greatest of all fears.  
Shall Satan say thy Saviour is forsaken,  
Who died on earth, and then to heaven was taken,  
Desirous thou shouldst do as he had done,  
Live here a while and then unto him come?  
Yet thou, a wretch, a most ungracious wretch,  
Whose sufferings are not able thee to teach  
That thy hard heart is harder far than steel,  
Wilt not be drawn thy Saviour's sufferings feel.  
O weep, O weep; let tears fall from thine eye  
For him who shed both tears and blood for thee.  
O weep, O weep; now spend thy time in sorrowing,  
For to redeem thy time is spent in sinning.  
O weep, O weep; let Peter teach thee weep,  
And it will teach thee from thy sin to keep.  
O weep, O weep; let tears fall from thy eyes,  
That they may prove for sin a sacrifice.  
O weep, O weep; with tears produce thy grief,  
If thou do hope for sin to have relief.  
O weep, O weep; let tears make soft thy heart,  
If thou expect in Christ have any part.  
But how can I expect in Christ a part,  
When there's in me not any good desert?  
For I have spent most of my time in sin,  
And my amendment is yet to begin.  
Can I presume then God will pardon him  
Who hath lived all his life in deadly sin?  
With what face can he now for pardon pray,  
Hath so offended deeply every day?  
O hypocrite; thy conscience can thee tell,  
That thou dost think there's neither heaven nor hell.  
For if thou didst, it surely would appear  
That thou didst stand of this great God in fear;  
Seeing thou didst see his plagues on Egypt sent,  
When Pharaohs heart would not be drawn repent,  
Until the Lord had so decreed and doomed,  
That he and his should in the sea be drowned,  
And his elected safely brought to land,  
Through the read sea, by great Jehovahs' hand:  
For which did Moses sing praise to the Lord,  
Who did preserve them by his only word;   

And Miriam she did lead the maids a dance,  
Which highly did the praise of God advance.  
Her Timbrel sure, did make a joyful noise,  
With which hearts, hands, & feet, keep equal poise.  
Good God what difference now in this new world,  
How it is altered from it was of old!  
Though our solemn Revels make a stately show,  
Yet these to them cannot compare I know.  
Their dance set forth their joy was in their hearts;  
But this, the practice of the outward parts:  
That shown their thanks for a great deliverance;  
These, only th' state is in a courtly dance.  
Such are the Masques and shows to court are sent▪  
Whose cost are cause make many a youth repent.  
What other good in them I do not know,  
Yet this new world's proud humour it doth show.  
But there leave court; let country show its skill,  
How apt it is to practise what is ill;  
Where Pipes, and Shawms, and Fiddles fill the street  
With filthy tunes, for chaste ears most unmeet:  
And yet to these will men and women dance,  
As though they meant the praise of hell advance.  
Here Miriams' timbrel sure hath not been heard,  
Or if it were, it was with light regard:  
Her timbrel sounded out a heavenly tone;  
But these do pipe or little good, or none:  
Their music mounted hearts up to the heaven,  
But these keep souls with body's station even.  
If one should dance as David did 'fore th' ark,  
There's many Nichals would him readily mark:  
But now his like on earth's not to be seen,  
Nor many such as he have ever been;  
Or like to Miriam are not many more,  
Though such as Michal now there are great store:  
Not many Miriams' on our English ground,  
Though millions like to Michal may be found;  
Whose light behaviour in their dancings such,  
As doth conduce to sinful lust in much:  
And no great need, where all are apt to ill.  
Though this their aptness soul and body kill.  
When Miriam danced, it was with fatal fear  
Of that Jehovah who had placed them there;  
And in their songs his praises they do sing,  
Whose wondrous works o'er all the earth do ring,  
But now our michal's songs are nothing so:  
For they are such as bring their souls to wo.  
Their dancing sent a most sweet smelling savour,  
But ours casts us out of our Maker's favour.  
Good God that this our English fertile land  
Should harbour such as will not understand  
How much they're bound unto this gracious God,  
Though now we are beaten with his heavy rod,  
Because we have neglected him to serve;  
Who with his blood did us from death preserve  
Within this Isle, wherein his Sun did shine,  
Like to that blessed land of Palestine.   

O Wicked world; behold how God hath jest thee,  
And Satan he of all good hath bereft thee.  
For Abraham's seed can hardly now be found,  
Except it be in graves are under ground,  
When who 's a Christian hardly can be known,  
If by their works their faith it must be shown.  
Though we profess and say that we have faith,  
Our works deny it, so sacred Scripture saith:  
For all the world so madly runs awry,  
As most forget they're born to live to die.  
O what a wicked wretched world is now,  
When most of men do unto Baal bow;  
Though they do seem to serve their God in show,  
Their works set forth that God they do not know.  
So now full time to turn our joyful singing  
Into a tune of sorrow sadly weeping.  
O weep, O weep; let all this Isle now weep,  
When few or none are set the Lord to seek:  
Though a world of people daily do increase,  
Yet God's true service daily doth decrease:  
When many sins are smoothed with seeming show  
Of godly actions all the world doth know;  
For now dissembling most of men do use,  
Whereby Gods honour they do much abuse:  
So many think that they are free from sin,  
When God doth know they are filthy foul within.  
And such do show Christ came not them to call,  
Seeing he was sent solely for sinners all.  
O blessed Lord, I do confess my sin;  
Open thou the gate; that I may enter in:  
For through thee only, and through thee alone,  
I must have entrance, or I must have none.  
Now help, Lord help; good Lord help me with speed;  
Without thy help, sweet Saviour, I am dead,  
For with the world, good God, I am gone astray  
From thee my help, my comfort, and my stay.  
Since conscience saith that heaven hath justly left me,  
Also it may that hell hath justly gained me;  
And so conclude there's no injustice done,  
Though God refuse accept me for his son.   

How do I use to make a formal lie,  
Not thinking how did Ananias die!  
And yet 'tis held to be a slight offence,  
Although for such, Sapphira carried hence.  
But now we are come to such a woeful time.  
As lying thought of some to be no crime;  
Because 'tis guilded with another name,  
And yet in substance 'tis the very same:  
We call't dissembling, when we lying use;  
And yet dissembling doth the truth abuse;  
So th' nature is not altered with the name,  
For this and that are both the very same.  
And now 'tis grown to such a common sin,  
As if for lying death had never been;  
Seeing he that knows not how a lie to give,  
He knows not how in this vile world to live.  
So as it seems, who wants the art of lying,  
He wants the art (in this vile world) of living.  
But though this art may help a livelihood here,  
Assure thyself it will not help thee there,  
Where nought but truth can come to ' th' Saviour's ear,  
'Fore whom no shadows substance will appear:  
He seethe the secrets of each hollow heart  
And will not swerye from truth in any part.  
Then love this truth, and loath this art of lying,  
Lest thou repent it when thou art a dying:  
For than thou'lt see no difference will appear.  
When either of these come to thy Saviour's ear.  
Presume not then 'tis lawful to dissemble,  
Lest flesh & blood too late will shake & tremble:  
For though thy Saviour prove to thee so kind,  
As let thee live to see if thou wilt mind  
To amend the fault so long by thee been used,  
Though conscience tell thee God's therein abused;  
Conceive thy heart is hardened in its sin,  
And will not hear thy conscience speak within;  
Who tells thee plainly that thou hast offended,  
And oftentimes for it been reprehended;  
Yet thou dost still run on in thy old course,  
And in thy sin grow each day worse and worse.  
But lay to heart how Ananias died.  
And how thyself ere long must come be tried  
Before a Judge admits of no dissembling,  
But best of men will fall with fear and trembling▪  
Retain this fear, and from it ne'er departed;  
For this in time may mollify thy heart:  
Or if it do not, think then 'tis hardened so,  
As it may expect this fatal word of Go,  
Without so much as any warning given,  
But for thy sin thou art deprived of heaven:  
For be assured, when Ananias died,  
He had no time to think he might be tried,  
But struck to death before he answer made,  
For this just Judge will not be disobeyed;  
And though his mercy greatly doth abound,  
Yet Ananias he was struck to ground,  
When he had parted with a fair estate,  
Intending it to help the poor man's fate;  
So as it seems, to th' poor his charity's such,  
In our esteem, as might have helped him much:  
Yet here observe that man can do no good,  
How great soe'er, though't be his liulihood,  
Which may withstand the justice of this God,  
If he resolve to beat us with his rod:  
For when thou hast done all the good thou can,  
Thou mayst conclude thyself a sinful man.  
Then help, Lord help, good Lord help me with speed;  
Without thy help, sweet Saviour, I am dead:  
For nought in me, but hearty penitence,  
Can gain me pardon for my great offence.  
Sweet Jesus teach my heart to fear and tremble,  
And ne'er forget Sapphira did dissemble;  
And for that sin did suffer sudden death:  
Let me retain this thought whiles I have breath:  
And teach me, Lord for all my sins to weep,  
And from tentation good Lord do me keep:  
For my weak mind forgetful is of good;  
But what is ill of me is ne'er withstood:  
For it. O Lord, I freely do embrace;  
So as I see in me 'tis want of grace.  
Supply this want in me, good Lord, I pray;  
That in thy service I may every stay.  
But sin is so engrafted in my heart,  
As it is loath from least of sin departed;  
But rather smooth it with some seeming show,  
Although it be sin apparently we know,  
So as it seems we are apt to foster ill,  
But what is good, nor with good heart nor will.  
Sweet Jesus help this frailty is in me,  
And heal me Lord, of this infirmity:  
For my weak flesh to ill saith seldom No:  
Sweet Jesus free me from this word of God;  
And grant me strength for to restrain my will,  
That henceforth I be ne'er o'ercome with ill;  
But aye be lifting up my heart to thee,  
And to thy name sing praise continually;  
And with my tears wash off the guilt of sin,  
Which my hard heart hath hereto lived in;  
And henceforth weep in heart, without dissembling,  
To work salvation with my fear and trembling.  
And teach my eyes good God, that they may weep,  
And my weak flesh from sin itself to keep.   

O weep, O weep; let all this Isle now weep,  
If it expect from God's just judgement keep.  
Let Britain weep, whose brackish sea doth round it,  
Lest God in justice in that sea do drown it.  
Take notice now, of his most heavy hand,  
In justice stretched o'er this woeful land.  
O weep O weep; begin to weep in time,  
Lest seas of tears will not wash off thy crime.  
O weep, O weep, that all the world may see  
How God in mercy hath delivered thee.  
O weep, O weep, to wash away thy guilt  
Hangs o'er this Isle, for blood is therein spilt;  
Which like to rivers on the land do run;  
Lord stay it now, for Jesus sake thy Son;  
That we may all with joyful noise accord  
To sing the praises of the heavenly Lord,  
For that his mercy great on us now shown,  
When our desert is to the world well known,  
O weep, O weep, that all the earth may see,  
For our great sins how penitent we be.  
O weep, O weep; let each one of us weep,  
And every one strive from sin himself to keep.  
But my hard heart, good God, is hardened so,  
It oft forgets the cause of all my wo.  
O weep, O weep; let heart and eyes agree,  
That 'tis for him who gave his life for thee.  
O weep, O weep, with tears wash off thy sin,  
If thou intent a new life now begin.  
O weep O weep, now spend the night in weeping,  
Which thou art wont to sot away in sleeping.  
O weep, O weep, both day and night and all,  
Lest th' wrath of God do justly on thee fall.  
O weep, O weep, how great thy cause to weep,  
Because thou wilt not from thy sin thee keep?  
O weep, O weep, from morning until night:  
Such weeping may help keep thy way aright.  
O weep, O weep, spend all thy days in sorrow;  
For such, in time, may help thy soul to borrow.  
O weep, O weep, let eyes forbear to wink,  
And let thy tears serve for thy daily drink.  
O weep, O weep, in tears eat thou thy bread,  
And with them likewise water thou thy bed.  
O weep, O weep, at bed, and board, and all,  
And never cease on thy sweet Saviour call.  
O weep, O weep, now when thy days are done,  
Thy tears may help prevent thy death to come.  
O weep, O weep, let ne'er thy cheeks be dry,  
And all too little, till the day thou die.  
O weep, O weep, and to thy Saviour say,  
Good God me pardon, I thee humbly pray.  
O weep, O weep, till thou have pardon sent,  
And till such time, ne'er cease, but still repent.  
O weep, O weep, to wash thy heart from sin;  
Till it be clean, be sure Christ comes not in.  
O weep, O weep, to cleanse that hollow place;  
Make't free from sin, and fill it up with grace.  
O weep, O weep, till Christ shall to thee say.  
Come now thou blessed, come, and with me stay.  
O weep, O weep, until thou hear this saying;  
And mix thy tears, be sure, with hearty praying.  
O weep O weep till Christ be pleased to hear,  
And to thy prayer vouchsafe to turn his ear,  
O weep, O weep, with heart, and soul, and all,  
Until such time as he shall on thee call:  
For without him, thy tears are all but nought;  
Receive me, Lord whom thou hast dearly bought.  
For my own strength good God, 's of no avail,  
Except thy blood, sweet Christ, for me prevail:  
For in myself, good Lord, help there is none,  
But by thee only, and by thee alone.  
For all my tears cannot me heaven obtain,  
Except thou please, good God, with me remain.  
Then come, sweet Jesus, and with me reside,  
That I in thee may evermore abide.  
But 'tis not in me, nor my power, O Lord,  
Except thou please vouchsafe to say the word.  
Then say to me that blessed word of Come;  
Without it, Lord, I am utterly undone:  
Then be thou pleased, good God, on me to call,  
Else heart, and tears and soul, are wasted all.  
Sweet Jesus send me, send me, Lord, I pray,  
Thy holy Spirit, to keep me in the way;  
The way to life I have so long neglected,  
I do deserve of thee to be rejected;  
And justly too, except thou so shall please,  
Of thine abundant goodness, grant me ease  
Of this illusion hath me so deluded,  
As I am justly now from heaven excluded;  
But that I know that thou dost not desire  
A sinner's death, but rather dost require  
That he may live, and praise thy holy name,  
Who was, is now, and aye shall be the same.  
Lord finish that, the great desire of me,  
That I do never herehence from thee flee,  
But love to follow thy most holy will,  
And by thy help attain to Zions hill:  
For by thy blood, Lord, and by it alone,  
I must have help, or else I can have none.  
For my hard heart, good God, is hardened so,  
As it doth deserve this fatal word of Go,  
Except thou please to call unto me, Come:  
Sweet Jesus grant that word may be my doom.  
Then call, sweet Jesus, call me, Lord, I pray,  
That I in thee for evermore may stay,  
And by thy help I may have strength withstand  
This fatal enemy of all humane kind,  
Sweet Jesus help, help me, good God, I pray,  
That I in sin do now no longer stay;   

But at this present I may now begin  
To make a reckoning of each several sin;  
And by thy help call this day to account,  
And therein see how those my sins do mount:  
And not engross them all in one gross sum,  
Lest that their weight my memory may benumb:  
But let each hour arraign its own offence,  
And so the next produce its penitence.  
Make this account from morning until night,  
And well observe thou take thy aim aright,  
From one till two, and then from two till three;  
And in that order look thy reckoning be.  
And when thou hearest the Artists clock to strike,  
Have care thy natural clock may do the like.  
Observe thy care how great for earthly toys,  
And then how light it is for heavenly joys.  
Thou'lt not forget to know when's time to eat;  
But this thy care is not for spiritual meat.  
Thou'lt know by th' clock when's time to go to bed;  
But when to heaven, it doth not trouble thy head,  
All earthly actions by the clock thou'lt square;  
Then look for heavenly such may be thy care.  
Thou'lt say the clock hath struck, 'tis time to go;  
But not to heaven; let once thy heart say so.  
If thine occasions rest upon an hour,  
Thou'lt ask what's clock at every neighbour's door:  
And if thou find that thy set hour is past,  
I hope thou'lt then redeem it by thy haste.  
Do these for earth with those for heaven compare,  
And look for these, as for those, be thy care:  
And then no doubt but thou shalt surely find  
Thy Saviour's sufferings constantly in mind.  
Begin at th' secrets of thy hollow heart,  
And then from thence to every other part;  
And draw thy thoughts into a narrow room,  
That thou mayst gain this blessed word of Come;  
And call them all unto a strict account,  
Lest, let alone, they may to millions mount:  
For they are swift and like an arrow fly;  
Once by their aim, they're sure to run awry.  
Then have a care they always aim aright,  
Or ne'er expect that they can come to light.  
Collect them often, lest thy memory fail,  
Which if it do, thy conscience cannot quail.  
Examine it, for each particular hour,  
What service in it had thy Saviour:  
And then I doubt it easily will appear,  
Thou hast served Satan most part of the year.  
For though it seem at present sound asleep,  
Assure thyself a reckoning it doth keep;  
And will disclose all at that doleful day,  
When for thy pleasure hell shall be thy pay.  
Then let thy Sentinels always lie Pardue,  
That they may tell when th' enemy comes in view.  
Make haste to run, and think no shame to fly;  
Without Christ's help thou shalt be sure to die.  
For there's no hope thy conscience may forget,  
But all thy sins it will before thee set:  
And when thy conscience shall them so reveal,  
Then shall that Satan to thyself appeal  
For equal justice he may have his own:  
Then by Jehovah thou shalt down be thrown,  
From out his presence to thee deepest hell,  
And therein doomed with fiends for ever dwell;  
And thenceforth never be admitted see  
The glorious face of th' sacred Trinity.  
Sweet Jesus come, and come good Lord in time,  
And with thy blood wash off my sinful crime.  
That it in judgement never rise against me;  
But with thy wing vouchsafe good Lord protect me.  
Help Lord help Lord, & let help come with speed  
To comfort him without it is but dead;  
And when that thou hast examined th'inward thought,  
Let th' sentinels than be all before thee brought,  
To give account of their fidelity,  
Lest of their faith there may be jealousy.  
Let none escape till he be sound tried,  
Lest any of them with th' enemy have complied;  
And so it prove, lest falsehood love may appear:  
Without all pity do thou then cashier;  
And let them have reward to treason due:  
For never think a traitor can be true,  
Since he that yields in hope of any gain,  
Will stand in fear of no eternal pain.  
And search each hollow in thy private tent,  
For hidden treason from the enemy sent.  
No law of Arms will bind him to be honest;  
To breach of faith he's ever found the pronest:  
And therein doth he take his chief delight;  
As if no good but doing that's not right.  
Then be thou chary of these inward friends  
Are friendly only for their private ends:  
In all thy actions ever aim at th' end,  
And then, by that, thou'lt see whereto they tend.  
A wise man will consider before he go,  
His journeys cause, and also whitherto:  
And if appear some danger in the way,  
And that the profit will not charge defray,  
He ' l take a pause, and turn about again  
Unto some other may requite his pain.   

Observe that graceless gracious prodigal,  
Who ne'er bethought him till he had spent all;  
And then resolved what was his best to do:  
He would with speed unto his father go,  
And on his knees confess what he had done,  
And humbly pray accept him for his son.  
Whereat his father, and most indulgent,  
Was glad to see his lost son so repent;  
And did retain him into former favour,  
In hope of his thereafter good behaviour.  
Make use of this, and do apply it well;  
For such in time may block up th' way to hell.  
So that false steward being in disgrace,  
Because he had some way abused his place,  
Bethought himself what then was best be done,  
Whenas his Master thrust him out his room;  
Since he was not inur'd with taking pain,  
And that he could not live without some gain,  
He did resolve his Master debtors call,  
And set down less then by his book did fall  
Due to his Master; hoping by that bout,  
He might find favour when he was turned out:  
Wherein his wisdom was commended more,  
Then theirs of light, by our blessed Saviour.  
Observe, my soul, this counsel wise approve;  
It came from him who's God of peace and love;  
Assure thyself, these words fell from his mouth,  
Who is the Essence of all real truth;  
Even God of gods, and eke of might is most,  
And were indicted by the Holy Ghost:  
Then lay them up in th' closet of thy heart▪  
And have a care they do not from thee part.  
Sow not this seed upon that stony ground,  
Where there can be no firm fast footing found;  
Nor yet ne'erhand that common highway-side,  
Where fowls of th' air will not let it abide;  
Nor where it may be choked with growing thorns  
Will spring up faster than the growing corns.  
But look it fall upon that wealthy mould,  
Where every corn may bring an hundred fold;  
That this thy care may prove a perfect token  
Thou art one of them to whom these words were spoken;  
Lest Esay's prophecy in thee be verified,  
Although thou hear, yet still thy ears are tied;  
And though thou see, yet still thy eyes will wink,  
Because they shall not to thy hard heart sink;  
Lest thou shouldst see, and to thy Saviour cry,  
That he might heal thee of thy malady.  
O look thou sleep not, lest the enemy come;  
And sow some tares among thy winnowed corn;  
And see thy salt be not without its savour,  
Lest thou be cast from out thy Maker's favour:  
And have a care to keep this enemy out,  
Who takes delight in ranging th' earth about.  
Avoid such sleep, and stand, and watch and pray,  
That thou mayst drive this enemy far away.  
But without help thou art not able do it;  
Then pray to him who can and 's willing to it.  
Sweet Jesus help this weakness is in me;  
Without thy help Lord, I am sure to die.  
Then help, Lord, help; good Lord, help me with speed;  
Without thy help, sweet Saviour, I am dead.  
For my hard heart, good God, is hardened so,  
As it doth not fear this fatal word of Go.  
O wicked heart, art still as aye hast been,  
Sleeping securely in all deadly sin?  
Sweet Jesus, help; and wake me from this sleep;  
And from tentation, good Lord, do me keep;  
And grant that when I hear the cock to crow,  
I then, like Peter, from my sin may go;  
And so conceive that Princely bird was sent  
To call upon me that I might repent,  
And weep and grieve for all my sins, and say  
Vouchsafe me pardon, good Lord, I thee pray;  
And call to mind that gracious prodigal,  
And not forget how I have wasted all  
My life in sin; and so resolve this hour  
To run with speed to my sweet Saviour,  
And on my knees say I have sinned against thee,  
And then no doubt he will again retain me:  
And that I may observe that steward's fact  
Was so commended for a most wise act.  
If I do so, I need not be afraid  
My suit shall fail then not be denied.  
Lord, sow this seed upon that fertile mould,  
Where every corn may bring an hundred fold.  
But I am still, as hereto I have been,  
O'ercome with mine own best beloved sin:  
For all these are not able me remove,  
But I will yet forsake my God above.   

O cursed, cursed, cursed, cursed thou;  
Why didst so long unto this Baal bow?  
What hast thou got for all thy service done?  
I fear thou'lt find this only, Thou art undone.  
Stretch out thy hand, & show thy grath is gotten,  
Thou'lt see't (at best) 'twill prove to be but rotten:  
Do but examine where lieth all thy gain,  
Thou'lt find nought left, except it be some pain,  
Where rests that profit by thy pleasure taken?  
Even only in this; thou art of Christ forsaken.  
O cursed, cursed, cursed, cursed thou,  
Hast had so much, and canst show none on't now.  
Thou'lt say th'hadst pleasure; where now doth it rest?  
In a guilty conscience boiling in thy breast.  
Tell now what part of thee thy sin did please:  
Thou'lt say thy heart did gain by it some ease:  
Let's see that ease thy pleasure hath obtained,  
Thou'lt find this only, hell thereby is gained,  
Ungracious he, which traveleth for such gain  
As yieldeth nothing but eternal pain.  
O wicked heart, will nothing yield thee ease,  
But only that thy Saviour doth displease?  
Will nothing please, but what procureth pain,  
As if in losing rested all thy gain?  
What's this thing Pleasure, which so much delighteth?  
Even price of hell, the thought whereof me frighteth.  
Hope of fruition, essence is of pleasure:  
Th' insatiate mind is aye without all measure.  
Nought can confine it in this earthly case;  
Which kills itself, this pleasure to embrace;  
And being had, no sooner got, but gone;  
So as indeed it proveth pleasure none.  
Hope thou, my soul, thy Saviour Christ to see:  
What 's out of him, no pleasure it can be.  
Look thy unlimited mind be ever set  
Upon thy Saviour; him do ne'er forget:  
For in him only 's pleasure worth the tasting,  
Which will continue without end everlasting.  
Hope for that pleasure who's delight is heavenly;  
And hate all other are at best but earthly.  
Buy that sweet hope at ne'er so high a rate;  
And of it be thou aye infatiate.  
Hope thou in the fruition of this pleasure  
Cannot be bought with any earthly treasure.  
O thou proud heart, thyself wilt rather kill,  
Then be abridged of thy wicked will.  
Malicious heart, wilt make thyself be slain,  
To gain thy corpses to get eternal pain.  
Thou envious heart, because thyself condemned,  
Wilt not thy precious soul should be redeemed.  
Ask but thy conscience it will plainly tell thee  
Thy sins are such, as hell hath justly gained thee.  
O fearful, fearful; when wilt thou begin  
Forsake to fill thy hollow heart with sin?  
O cruel, cruel; wilt thou ne'er have done,  
Till heart, and soul, and all be utterly undone?  
O wretch, O wretch; will nothing turn thy course,  
But thou wilt every day grow worse and worse?  
O fly, man, fly; for thou hast lost the field:  
Make haste to fly, or else be forced to yield;  
And then thou knowest no quarter will be given▪  
But straight to hell; for th' cannot come at heaven:  
And so I fear I shall be loath to die,  
Because I may not come my Saviour nigh;  
But thrown out down unto the deepest hell,  
And therein doomed with fiends for ever dwell.  
Is nothing able thee for to avert,  
But thou wilt yet unto thy sin revert?  
Art so resolved to live in horrid sin▪  
As thy amendment thou wilt ne'er begin?  
Are all thy members still so stupefied,  
As nought can work them to be mortified?  
Wilt yet run on in this most wicked way,  
Which leads directly into hell to stay?  
Do all thy actions thither aim and tend?  
And wilt thou never seek them to amend?  
Now all thy life hath Satan guided thee,  
And wilt thou never from this fiend to flee?  
Wilt thou go on, as hereto thou hast done,  
Forgetting all what soever may be to come?  
Shall I ne'er venture once to look on death,  
Until he come to take away my breath?  
Have I spent all my years as yet in vain,  
So as I am now to begin again?  
Have I been going all my life awry,  
And yet the right way could I not espy?  
Have I had eyes, and never yet could see  
Nor Satan, nor his wicked treachery?  
Have I been going full out seventy years,  
And clean by that good way, as it appears?  
What time can now be left to me behind,  
If I should hap the right way once to find,  
To travel this way 'gainst hill back again,  
Which I have gone down hill so long in vain?  
What means have I some blessed guide to get,  
Shall me in that narrow way both keep and set;  
The way to life, which I so much require,  
And which I do with all my heart desire?  
O wretched heart, for it is only thee,  
Who hath me brought to this great misery:  
For thou hast always loved to go astray,  
And never yet wouldst keep in the right way,  
That way to life, which thou didst love to shun,  
So long, that now thyself art utterly undone;  
And more than so, for thy sweet soul is lost,  
Which thy dear Saviour bought with so much cost.  
O wretch, O wretch; now turn thyself aside,  
And see if thou canst find some blessed guide:  
For now must thou thy compass either turn,  
Or else be sure in deepest hell to burn;  
Since of thyself thou hast in thee no power  
To keep the right way, not for one half hour,  
If that by chance thou shouldst it hap to find:  
For thou by nature art become so blind,  
As if thou wert in that right way to day,  
Thou art not able in it long to stay,  
Without some help; and help there can be none,  
But only Christ, and only he alone:  
For there is none, thy Saviour beside:  
Can undertake to be to thee a guide.  
Then bend thy knees, and to him heartily pray,  
That he will take this stony heart away;  
Which hath misled itself and thee so far,  
That without him thy wound is without cure.  
But now me thinks I hear thee thus to say,  
With what force canst thou to thy Saviour pray,  
Whom thou hast all thy life so long abused,  
And hast him likewise wilfully refused?  
Neglecting him when he did lovingly call,  
And to him never would give ear at all,  
When he his messengers of purpose sent,  
Entreating thee, for Jesus sake, repent,  
And turn again unto thy Saviour:  
And this he did, even every several hour,  
As thine own conscience can within thee tell,  
That this is truth, it knoweth it but too well:  
And yet didst thou, vile wretch, most wilfully  
Forsake thy God, and from thy Saviour fly,  
Though he did yet most lovingly follow still,  
To try if he by gifts might win thy will  
To turn again; and so thy Maker he  
Became a loving suitor unto thee;  
And with great blessings he did thee invite,  
That thou wouldst love to live within his sight.  
Then thou sometime wouldst to thy Saviour cry,  
O Lord, I come, or else in hell I die:  
But presently the tempter came again,  
And would not let thee in right way remain:  
And when the Serpent had beguiled thee,  
And thou begun anew thy sin to see,  
Then thou wouldst gladly to thy Saviour go.  
And pray him please that he would help the fro  
That man of sin, who had thee whilom gained  
To act some sin from which thou not refrained;  
And th' pleasure passed thou then again begun  
To shame with that thou hadst but newly done:  
And then wouldst thou unto thy God again,  
Who it may be should which thee a while remain;  
But if he pleased but turned from thee aside,  
Then thou again away from him didst glide.  
And this hath been thy daily wont use,  
Unto thy God's, and thine own souls abuse;  
Whereby he now in equal justice may,  
If he thinks good, call thee from hence away:  
But that his mercy's known to be much more,  
And all his other attributes before:  
So as there's hope if thou hast grace to pray,  
That this foul Satan may be driven away,  
Where he shall ne'er attempt on thee again,  
If in thy Saviour thou hast grace remain;  
And to h●m only thou thyself apply,  
Who able is, and will most willingly  
Help all of them that on his name do call,  
If they bring with them heart, and soul, and all;  
Or else 'tis bootless offer to him go;  
For without th'heart be sure he will say no.  
Then call this heart of mine, thou blessed Lord,  
Which thou hast made in me by thine own word:  
Vouchsafe be pleased, good Lord, to call it so,  
As it from henceforth never further go  
From thee my God, my Saviour, and my King,  
But ever more thy worthy praises sing.  
And grant, good God, that though my body trade  
In earthly things, because on earth 'twas made;  
Yet that my soul may aye ascend on high,  
And ever love the sacred Deity.  
Then fast and pray, and fast and pray again,  
That thou in sin do never more remain;  
But herehence heartily thou thyself repent,   

Performing duly wherefore thou was sent;  
Which was, to serve thy God and King always,  
And in his service ever live and stay:  
For all the time that he to thee hath lent,  
Ought in his service to be solely spent;  
Since thou thyself hast many servants had,  
Though some of them have been approved bad,  
Yet thou didst always this of them expect,  
That they should thee and what was thine respect:  
And if they careless disobeyed thee,  
Then doubtless thou wouldst very angry be;  
But if they should 'gainst thee reply in word,  
When thou wast ready smite them with thy sword:  
And though their wages were but very small,  
Yet thou expectedst they should spend even all  
Their time as thou by order didst direct,  
Or else such servants thou wouldst not protect  
About thy house, but frowning thrust them out,  
And then like vagabonds they went about.  
Reflect, my soul, a while upon thyself;  
Let conscience say what thou hast done for pelf,  
And pleasing this soul filthy flesh of thine,  
Wherein is spent most part of all thy time:  
For if thou didst resolve one hour to spare,  
In holy service of thy Saviour there,  
Where Saints should be, yet thou that hour didst find,  
Was long and tedious to thy tired mind;  
Who then had thought of divers several things,  
And not attended to that which angels sings.  
O what a wretched, wretched beast art thou,  
Who seems to man thy knees to God to bow;  
And yet thy heart is all a whoring gone,  
So that thy God indeed hath service none.  
O wretch, O wretch, with what face canst thou crave,  
Or any spiritual blessings look to have  
Of him who hath so much increased thy store,  
And doth bestow on thee poor miscreant more  
Than erst became that heart of thine require,  
Or without shame thou couldst of him desire?  
Yet thou a wretch, ungrateful wretch, to think  
Thou art born to live for nought but eat & drink,  
And so to do as though indeed there were  
No place of reckoning any otherwhere  
Then on this earth, where we do live, and see  
Nought else but what appeareth to the eye  
Of this our flesh, but not of that our faith;  
For it hath often said, and to thy soul now saith  
That thou art blind, and therefore canst not see  
That thou hast any living soul in thee.  
O wretch, O wretch, O thou most beastly wretch,  
Hast lived so long, and yet thou art to teach  
That there is now a living soul in thee,  
Which daily doth expect eternity;  
Which on this earth by no means can be gotten,  
For earthly things, at best are all but rotten.  
O thou my soul, shake off this clayie case,  
This case of thine, which is so filthy base  
As to forget that it ought ever live  
For him alone who did this life it give;  
Yet give he did not, but it only lent,  
And looks to have it to him solely sent,  
For to dispose of as he thinketh best;  
Or go thou down, thou cursed, or come thou up thou blest.  
O think, my soul, think seriously of this line,  
In thinking of it, now spend all thy time.  
A man of reason would esteem of this,  
A theme sufficient for eternal bliss.  
Then ruminate upon this pithy line,  
And keep it always in that heart of thine;  
And it will bring thee to thy way aright:  
Then leave not thinking, neither day nor night;  
But bear't about thee, ever in thy mind,  
And thou shalt surely in it treasure find.  
But if thou think or intent to gain this treasure,  
Thou must this day give o'er all earthly pleasure,  
Or else be sure thou shalt with sorrow prove  
Thyself accursed by great Jehovah above.  
Then look in time, and do thou fear this cursing;  
And lieu thereof, do strive to gain this blessing.  
Sweet Jesus grant that I may here so live,  
As thou mayst please vouchsafe unto me give,  
At my departure, this my latest doom,  
Blessed of the Lord, do thou unto me come,  
O here, my soul, be sure set up thy rest,  
And keep this always in thy bony breast;  
And writ it there: thou'lt find it is so good,  
It doth deserve for to be writ in blood:  
For here thy dearest blood were well bestowed,  
To gain that blessing in these lines is showed;  
Which thou must either now on earth obtain,  
Or else thy days are all spent but in vain:  
And if only so, the matter's so much less,  
Though it were loss of thine eternal bliss:  
But thou, in lieu thereof, shalt surely gain  
Both loss of bliss, and eke eternal pain.  
O cruel, cruel, wretched, wretched thee,  
That wilt not solely in his service be,  
Who lost his dearest blood and life to bring  
Thee to be capable of that great blessing,  
Which none can have but only them alone,  
Who come to gain it by his passion.  
Then thou, my soul, his passion so apply,  
As through it only thou mayst live, not die.  
Apply it then, and do apply it right,  
And it will keep thee always in his sight,  
Who died for thee, and greatly did desire  
That he may free thee from th' infernal fire,  
Wherein thy conscience tells thee thou must burn,  
Except thou quickly to thy Saviour turn.  
Then turn thou to him, and turn to him so,  
As thou gain not this doleful word of Go.  
O fearful saying, of all the very worst,  
That erst was heard these words of Go accursed.  
O horrid, horrid, horrid, fearful thing,  
To be cast out from sight of this our king,  
Who lovingly did freely suffer death,  
To bring thee sinner to eternal life.  
Then gain this life, how dear soe'er it cost:  
For this, of all whatsoever, concerns thee most.  
Then think of this, and think on't seriously,  
And it will teach thee live most virtuously;  
And then be sure that thou in th'end shalt have  
What this thy soul can in it soul but crave.  
Then crave it, crave it; do thou crave with zeal  
That Christ himself may to thy soul reveal  
The secret virtue of his death and blood,  
Which he so shed for thine eternal good.  
Here do thou build; here's good foundation,  
Freed from all danger of inundation;  
The only rock whereon stands saving health,  
Which is more worth than all this worldly wealth:  
For herein solely's perfect happiness,  
The very essence of all blessedness.  
Here build, my soul, and do thou build so high,  
That th' building reach above the starry sky,  
Where thy blessed Saviour sits himself alone,  
Upon that blessed glorious heavenly throne;  
Which none beholds, but them are only his,  
And by his passion enter into bliss:  
For all th' accursed are from thence thrown down  
By God above, with such a furious frown,  
As they shall ne'er enabled be to see  
The face of th' sacred glorious Trinity.  
O fear, O fear, beyond all other fears,  
The thought whereof my very heart even tears.  
Then if thou wilt this hideous fear prevent,  
Remember th' cause for which was't hither sent:  
And if thou dost not that thy end forget,  
It may procure a place for thee to sit  
Among that glorious heavenly angels choir,  
Which is thy soul's it chief and sole desire.  
O be not thou so far then overseen,  
As thou hast all thy life-time hereto been,  
To sleep in sin, and that so securely,  
As though in it thou didst intent to die.  
But now 'tis time to rouse thyself from sleep,  
If thou intent from sin thyself to keep;  
Or else be sure in lieu of sleeping sink  
Into that horrid fearful place of stink,  
Where thou shalt live deprived of heavenly bliss,  
Or sight of heaven, where thy sweet Saviour is.  
Then sleep no more, but rise, and stand, and pray,  
And to thy Saviour do thou always say,  
Come, blessed Lord, vouchsafe on me to call,  
That I do never herehence from thee fall:  
But if I do, then call, good Lord, again,  
That I from sin myself may now refrain,  
And freely come to thee at this thy call,  
And so in time prevent that fatal fall,  
From whence no hope that thou canst rise again,  
But ever live eternally in pain.  
Then stand in fear to fall, if thou be wise,  
And from thy sleep (in haste) do now arise;  
And fast and pray, and fall upon the ground,  
That blessings may from heaven on thee abound:  
And these thy prayers do thou iterate,  
That they thereby thy pains may mitigate,  
And heav thy soul up to the heavens, from whence  
(If not) thou must receive due recompense  
For sin, the wage whereof assure thyself is death,  
Which thou must pay, with loss of dearest breath.  
Then do thou look upon this death again,  
And see if he be now the very same  
He seemed to be when justly thou condemned  
Thyself of sin, which did so fore offend  
Thy God and King, whoed was did place thee here,  
That thou mightst always live of him in fear:  
And then thou shouldst not need have any care,  
Though death did come, and take thee to his share.  
Death hath no power that man at all to harm,  
Who is defended by Jehovah's arm:  
And though that death indeed o'recometh all,  
He only comes when God himself doth call.  
For God makes death to be his instrument,  
To strike when he by God alone is sent.  
Then make thy suit to thy blessed Saviour sweet,  
As 'tis thy duty, and not all is meet,  
That he will please both thee and thine defend  
From deadly sin, until thy life have end;  
And then fear not, for sure thou shalt not miss  
Of gaining that, is thine eternal bliss,  
Which is prepared for all that only cry  
Upon their blessed Saviour hearty.  
But this most sinful hollow heart of mine  
Doth stay my soul, that it can never shine  
As it desires, but forced is comply  
With my hard heart, which daily doth deny  
To entertain aught that shall tend to good,  
But ill it loves, like as doth stomach food.  
Vouchsafe, good Lord, I do most humbly pray.  
Be pleased to take this tempter quite away:  
For it is he who maketh me thus blind,  
And leads this man even up and down with th' wind:  
For wheresoever the wind doth turn to blow,  
That way doth he entice me likewise now.  
O teach, O teach me, Lord, I humbly pray,  
That I in thee may ever live and stay;  
And so to shun each ill occasion,  
Which doth proceed of that illusion  
Of him is wont, and yet still leadeth me  
To take his bait, and so to forsake thee.  
Deceitful bait, which did me so entice  
The apple eat, and yield my life the price.  
O wretch, O wretch, that will so wretched be;  
Was never born a man so blind as thee?  
Thus to be gulled, as thou hast ever been,  
To lose thy life in lieu of a little sin?  
Was ever sinner seen so fooled as thou,  
To such a fiend as Satan is, to bow?  
Yea, though thou seest him plainly 'fore thy face,  
Yet thou dost hold it for no great disgrace  
To be led by him as thou willing art,  
Because he's harboured close within thy heart.  
O call thy wits about thee now at last,  
When all thy days are done, and life is past.  
Look at thy end thou canst not choose but see  
How subtle Satan hath deluded thee;  
Whereby thou now art brought to such a stay,  
As neither devil, nor yet this death can fray  
Thee from thy sin. O see, man, do thou see  
What is that sweet in pleasing sin can be,  
Whereby th' art brought to be so overcomed,  
As all thy senses are indeed benumbed.   

For Satan makes thee so insatiate,  
As thy case now is grown be desperate.  
Did ever man by any pleasure gain,  
When by that pleasure he was in it slain?  
Is not he mad, that will of poison eat,  
Although he have not any other meat?  
Will any drunkard pleasing poison drink,  
When sudden death doth make him down to sink  
To th' deepest hell, and there in it remain  
Without all hope of turning ere again?  
And yet art thou more mad by much then he,  
And wilt not from this thy great madness be  
Reformed, but still in madness thou run'st on,  
Till thou hast gained thyself confusion  
Both of thy body and thy soul: and yet  
Thou (wretched) dost thyself so far forget,  
As thou wilt not so much as think of th' end  
For which thy God did to this earth thee send.  
Hast thou thy sense to take a taste of food,  
And difference make betwixt the ill and good,  
And which of them doth best thy  please;  
And by thy sense art able judge of these?  
But yet if thou didst know of poison there,  
I hope thou wouldst not take it without fear,  
And yet (mad man) so taken art with sin,  
Though worse by much then poison be therein,  
As that thou wilt not this thy sin forbear,  
But thou wilt act it boldly without fear?  
Art thou not mad? nay further, more than so,  
Thou run'st from heaven, that thou to hell mayst go:  
And yet 'twixt these there is a difference great.  
He that is mad, hath no taste of his meat,  
And so with madness may be overtaken;  
For want of reason makes man be mistaken.  
But thy case differs from this mad man's much:  
For thy mad senses they cannot be such,  
Seeing they their reason with them do retain,  
And commit sin, in hope to get some gain;  
As pleasure, profit, or some private end,  
Or somewhat else may unto pleasure tend;  
Which to the senses plainly do appear,  
Although in that (they surely senseless are)  
And thereby they of selves and souls make sale,  
To gain a thing being gots of no avail,  
And yet by it they lose eternal bliss,  
The only end of perfect happiness.  
O fondling, fondling, do not fool away  
Thy soul, as thou hast done this present day,  
For want of good and due consideration,  
Which is a main step to confusion.  
Do but consider what is th' end of all,  
And then there's hope that thou shalt never fall,  
Except thou be as hereto thou hast been,  
Most wilfully bend to be loved sin;  
And then there is not any hope of thee,  
But for thy sin thou shalt be sure to die:  
And thou shalt reap the wages therefore due;  
For pleasing sins ill pleasing death accrue.  
Are there no threats can mollify this heart?  
Is't hardened so, in every several part,  
As threats nor treats have power to enter there,  
Till death do come, and with his dart appear?  
And then wilt thou begin with sorrow find  
How Satan he hath made all of thee blind,  
And gulled the so as thou shalt then well see  
Thy very soul within hell gates to be;  
And then, O then, with sorrow thou'lt begin  
To weep and grieve for this thy deadly sin:  
When time is past, and days one earth are done,  
Then 'tis too late for thee thy sins to shun:  
And then thou'lt see that thou thyself wast mad,  
To sin so long, and that without all dread;  
And never look nor aim at that thy end,  
For which thy God did to this earth thee send:  
Or if sometimes thou didst, yet presently  
Thou fellst to sin, and from thy Maker fly;  
And though thy Saviour called on thee again,  
Yet still didst thou in that thy sin remain,  
And turn thy back when God himself did call,  
And wouldst not turn thyself to God at all.  
So as thou canst not now of right repine,  
If he should smite this wicked heart of thine,  
And in his anger from heaven throw it down  
From out his presence, with an angry frown;  
And further say unto thee, Cursed, go  
To hell, which is prepared for thy wo.  
O woe beyond all other kind of woes,  
To him that runs from heaven, to hell that goes.  
O wretched, wretched, wretched miscreant thou,  
To leave thy God, and to his enemy bow:  
For both of these do admit of no mean,  
Since God and Mammon they do differ clean.  
Then leave thy madness, and do now become.  
A new man 'fore that dreadful day of doom.  
There's yet some hope, if thou hast any grace,  
By help of Christ, for thee to gain a place  
Within that City new Jerusalem,  
Which is prepared for every each one of them  
That to him come with humble heart and voice,  
And in his service do live and rejoice;   

And do repent them of their former sin  
And wicked life which they have lived in.  
Then do repent, if thou hast any grace,  
Although for it there's but a little space:  
The lesser time, the sorrow's so much more;  
Then fill this short time now with sorrow store;  
And weep and grieve for all thy sins and groan,  
And to thy Saviour make thy sorrowful moan.  
It may be he will please to lend his ear,  
If that thy sorrow from heart roots appear:  
But if thy sorrows should not come from thence,  
Ne'er think that he will pardon thine offence.  
Then search each hollow in thy sinful heart,  
And look that Satan have not any part:  
For if that fiend shall have but the least share,  
Be sure thy Saviour he will not come there:  
For he will have thy heart himself alone,  
And partners in it he will admit of none.  
Then bend thy knees, and lift to heaven thy heart,  
That God on high may hear, by whom thou art  
In some hope yet of gaining heavenly bliss,  
If he'll but say that thou art only his;  
Which he hath promised faithfully perform  
To all of them that to him hearty turn.  
Then turn, my soul, with heart, and mind, and all,  
To this good God, who thee doth often call,  
And is desirous for to receive thee,  
If heart and mind do thereto but agree  
To leave thy sin, and of it to repent,  
And really, with good and true intent,  
Resolve for ever to continue free  
From Satan's subtle slightful gullery,  
And further make good restitution  
Of all the wrongs to any thou hast done;  
Then willingly be sure he will thee hear,  
And to thy suit he will apply his ear,  
And yield thee comfort from the heavens above,  
Thy Saviour sweet, who's God of peace and love;  
And is desirous to have sinners all  
To come to him, and doth them often call.  
Then to him, to him, do thou freely run;  
For he doth no man's prayers use to shun  
Are made in zeal, but willingly will them hear,  
And to them then most lovingly will appear,  
And grant them all their heart's petition,  
And of their sins a full remission:  
But this remission thou thyself must gain,  
With grief and sorrow, and some bod'ly pain:  
For all thy members must of pain partake,  
As well thy aged limbs as that thy heart.  
Then teach thy knees, that they may bow & bend  
To God on high, who did them to thee lend,  
Not for to serve his cruel enemy,  
But rather 'twas to eschew his company.  
Then fly him, fly him, and do him forsake,  
That he be never able thee o'ertake:  
For he is always waiting opportunity  
To wind himself into thy company;  
And there he seems a faithful friend to be,  
When he's professed thy deadliest enemy;  
And fawns, and flatters, and doth love to lie,  
For fear that falsehood thou in him might spy:  
For he is cunning in each one of these,  
And doth desire thy senses for to please,  
That he with slight might so to them wind in,  
As he may keep them still in their own sin,  
By offering some fair goodly guilded pills,  
Who's golden outside's stuffed with inward ills.  
Beware of such, for such he often useth;  
And with such shifts (fond man) he thee abuseth.  
O trust him not; for he's at best a thief,  
And seeks his own ends, but in fine thy grief;  
For he delights himself in nothing more,  
Then to see a man who is to sin given o'er;  
And such a one he likes and loveth well,  
And to him will he pleasing stories tell  
Of great contentment he shall surely have,  
But ne'er a word as yet he'll speak of grave:  
Or if he do, there's time enough, he'll say;  
Thou mayst do that upon some other day.  
But take time now, whenas the time doth serve,  
If thou intent thy soul for to preserve:  
For time will not be tied to th' best man's leisure,  
Therefore this day do thou give o'er thy pleasure;  
And think of death, who's knocking at thy door,  
And enter may, perchance, within an hour;  
Except thy hearty prayers him prevent,  
Being made to that Jehovah hath him sent.  
Then sue to him, who is thy Saviour sweet,  
And on thy knees most humbly him entreat,  
That he will please to safe keep thee from sin,  
Which all thy life thou hast loved and lived in;  
And pray that henceforth thou mayst live aright,  
Being ever mindful thou art in his sight;  
As if this were of life thy longest day,  
And thou mightst hear on earth no longer stay,  
But yet before this day might have an end,  
Thy Saviour should for thee this servant send,  
And call of thee to make a strict account  
Of sins whose sum I fear will highly mount;  
As well thy thoughts, and idle words and deeds,  
As what thou dost nor do, nor think, nor heeds:  
And then wilt thou entreat him he will spare  
Thee yet a while, that thou mayst thee prepare  
To make thy reckoning such as may be straight,  
Which thou ne'er dream'dst it should ere come to light;  
Or if thou didst, thy sin's so much the more,  
That being known, thou didst not do't before,  
Whilst thou hadst time; because in time thou might  
Have made thy reckoning such as should be right;  
But now th' art taken in that Satan's snare,  
Because thou didst not thee in time prepare.    


Then think, my soul, in what case thou art in,  
O'ercome with thy own best beloved sin,  
Whereof thou always hast more reek'ning made,   

Then of thy Saviour was for the betrayed,  
And suffer pains of death for thy sins sake,  
That free from death he might thee (sinner) make;  
Although himself did never sin at all,  
But to preserve thee, that thou shouldst not fall.  
O what a loving kind, sweet Saviour's this  
Who came from heaven, that glorious place of bliss  
Down to this earth, where he did freely give  
His life, that thou through him mightst ever live.  
Then live in him, and do him ever love,  
This thy good God, Jehovah, who's above:  
Here stay, my soul, a while, and ruminate  
What blessings came by Christ to thy estate,  
Even the only death of this thy God and king,  
And evermore to him due praises sing:  
For he doth well deserve the same always;  
Then sing with joy to him eternal praise.  
O sing, my soul, and now let's jovial be,  
That this thy Saviour pleased to die for thee.  
But if it were for thee thy Saviour died,  
Then must thy life to his be thus applied.  
Have I lived so as my Saviour Christ hath done,  
Although he were God's own and only Son?  
Who never had but one poor simple coat,  
And that even plain, not laid with lace, I wots,  
But was all woven without any seam:  
Mark well this coat, for it's a worthy theme  
To think upon, since it so well became  
Both child and man, and always was the same,  
And grew as he grew, yet it did not wear,  
Nor waxed old, but did indeed appear  
As fresh at last, when as it was put off.  
As it was at first, when as it was put on.  
He had nor hat, nor band, nor had he boots,  
Nor any change had he of other suits.  
For head and feet he did not like thee care,  
But all his life he ever beware them bare:  
And when he prayed▪ his knees were ever such;  
For his fleshly corpses he ne'er respected much,  
But kneeled always down upon the ground;  
For cushions were as yet not to be found,  
I do not hear that he did eat his fill;  
Of too much meat there ever cometh ill:  
But I am well assured that he did fast  
Till forty days were ended all and past,  
Nor do I read that he did use drink much;  
For doubtless sin is often seen in such:  
Nor did he look to lie so very soft,  
As most of men will now a days do oft,  
But on bare earth was ever his best bed,  
Whereon he always used to lay his head,  
If lie at all. And yet for all of this,  
The earth itself, and all therein, were his.  
Now thus, my soul, say to my sinful heart,  
If thou expect in Christ have any part,  
Dost thou not fine apparel like and love?  
For by it thou thyself art set above  
Some neighbours, who much better do deserve,  
But that thy  'fore them do thee prefer;  
Whereby thy heart is somewhat touched with pride,  
If there be nothing in it else beside.  
He was not wont to alter his old fashion,  
But used the same in every several Nation.  
Hast thou done thus? I stand in fear on't much;  
For now in England fashion is not such;  
But thought it better out of th' world have been,  
Then out of fashion in the world been see.  
But know betimes, who use this fashion follow,  
Shall bring their soul in th' end to much sorrow.  
Hast thou, my heart, observed his bare head?  
Or dost thou keep thine own uncovered,  
Even in the temple? since example's much;  
For there be many fools are led by such.  
Or dost thou use in thy privy chamber so,  
When to thy Saviour art resolved to go?  
I know to th' most thou wilt put off thy hat,  
And yet sometimes there may be pride in that.  
And here observe what thou thyself hast seen,  
How many fashions have in England been  
Of these same hats, which sure at first were sent  
But for an idle needless ornament;  
And yet of them one fashion will not stand  
Scant twice twelve months within our English Land.  
If thou have a suit unto an earthly lord,  
That he'll but please to speak for thee a word,  
I hope thou'lt then come with thy hat in hand,  
Although't be made but for some small demand;  
And yet now when thy life and all 's at stake,  
And thou alone must to thy Saviour make,  
Who 's King of kings, and also Lord of lords,  
And makes them by his own and only words;  
Yet in his presence thou (base earth) wilt stand,  
Yet not vouchsafe to have thy hat in hand.  
Consider well, and think what this may be,  
I am sore afraid of a fearful sin in thee.  
When thou dost kneel, are both thy knees then bare?  
Or dost thou kneel at all, but only there,  
Among the chosen congregation  
Whereas this kneeling is an usual fashion?  
And dost thou do it then on God's bare ground,  
As thy sweet Saviour oftentimes was found?  
If not, I fear thou hast thy God offended,  
Because thou prayedst and yet thy knees unbended.  
Hast thou been used barefooted for to go?  
I fear thy heart will tell thee truly no.  
Hast thou forborn, being hungry, eat thy fill?  
Or hast not thou ofttimes even eaten till  
Thy stomach did desire to have no more,  
If so there were of pleasing viands store?  
Nay hath not thine offence been sometimes such,  
As that thy stomach did desire too much?  
Or hast not thou been often choice of meat,  
Or else with pleasing  couldst not eat?  
Nay, hast not thou sometimes with too much cost,  
Provided what was pleasing to thee most,  
For to content thy dainty appetite?  
I do much fear, herein thou didst not right.  
Hast thou forborn at all to drink thy fill?  
Or didst not thou even drink so long until  
Thy stomach did desire to have no more,  
If pleasing wine there were but any store?  
Especially when the drink did prove be such,  
Wherein thy  was but pleased much.  
Nay hast not thou thereby been sometimes made  
So very drunk, that thou wouldst not be said?  
Then was't not sin, in taking of this drink?  
Yes sure there was, and so I know dost think.  
Hast thou forborn sometimes to eat thy meat,  
Whenas thy stomach did desire to eat,  
And hadst it ready then within thy power?  
Didst thou forbear to eat for forty hour?  
And if thou didst, then say now for what end  
Didst thou so fast? was it from heart to send  
Thy prayers up unto thy God on high,  
Who for his service only did make thee?  
And was it thus thy fleshly lust to tame,  
Which needs would force thy body be to blame?  
The tempter he did move thy Saviour much,  
Yet Satan's self thy Saviour could not touch:  
For he would not believe the Serpent's wiles,  
Since it is trust which most of men beguiles.  
Then fast and pray, and do thou put thy trust  
In God alone; for he is only just:  
And fear this fiend, and him forsake and fly,  
And trust him not, for he is too too sly.  
But have an aiming always at thy end,  
And in thy way expect to meet this fiend:  
For he at all times well prepared is,  
For to advise thee do what is amiss.  
And therein he doth take his most delight,  
And will persuade thee that thou art in right.  
Hast thou been used to lie upon the ground?  
I fear there will but a very few such be found.  
Nay, hast not thou delighted often lie  
On th' softest bed thou couldst well come by?  
And say, hast thou forborn thy bed at all,  
That on thy Saviour thou for grace mightst call?  
Nay hast not rather much more loved sleep,  
Then that thou shouldst from rest thy body keep?  
Nay, hast not thou committed horrid sin,  
And without pardon on thy bed down lain?  
Nay, hast not thou even often fallen asleep,  
Without entreating God would please thee keep?  
Nay, hast thou thought how thou thy life hast led,  
That day before thou went'st unto thy bed?  
Didst thou cast up that day its sin's account,  
Or to such custom art thou daily wont?  
Didst thou give thanks to God for blessings sent?  
Of sins committed didst thou thee repent?  
Nay rather, didst not thou omit them both,  
Because leave sleeping thou wast very loath?  
Nay, hast not thou sometimes thy sleep forsaken,  
To commit sin, whenas thou wast awaken?  
Nay, hast not thou forsaken thy sweet sleep,  
That thou thyself in pleasing sin mightst keep?  
Nay, hast not thou spent many a life-long night,  
To follow that, which was thou knowst not right?  
Nay, hast not thou delighted more in night,  
Yea often better than thou didst in light?  
Examine truly th' cause of this thy love,  
If so it were to serve thy God above;  
Or rather was't not to avoid his sight,  
Who thou didst dream unable see in night?  
O wretched beast, canst thou conceive it so?  
Then be assured that God thou dost not know.  
But it cannot be that thou art of that mind,  
But that the devil hath made all of thee blind,  
For fear thou shouldst thy sensual sin now see,  
Which thine own conscience knows a shame to be.  
For never man on earth so brutish born,  
But brutish sin (if in his sight) did scorn:  
And therefore such as work of darkness named,  
Because, if seen, that man would be ashamed.  
O shameless man that's blind, and cannot see  
How subtle Satan hath deluded thee,  
To act a sin in darkness of the night,  
As though thou wert (than) out Jehovah's sight!  
Yet though thy sin were such, and ended were,  
Thy conscience tells thee that thy God's not there,  
Yet saw thy sin, and also punished will  
Except thou dost repent thee of that ill.  
O then, for shame, repent thee of that fact.  
Wherewith thou blushed to have been seen in th' act.  
For though that mortals have no power to see,  
Without the light comes from the Deity;  
Yet God himself, who Maker was of light,  
Did likewise make, for th' good of man, the night;  
But not to hid our sin it was he made it,  
Although the Devil by cunning so abuse it:  
For he delights himself in darkness much,  
And so do all of them are sinners such;  
Whereby their conscience doth them plainly tell,  
They darkness love, and therefore shall have hell.  
O horrid, horrid, fearful horrid mind,  
Which canst not see that thou art even stone-blind.  
But thou wilt say, that thou didst so much know,  
But that even than thou didst forget it though.  
O wretch, O wretch, that canst so soon forget  
That thou hast any soul within thee yet;  
And that thy Saviour suffered death for thee,  
If thou dost fear and from this Satan fly:  
But thou dost yield to follow this fiend still,  
And love him dearly with good heart and will;  
Yet thinkest that God himself cannot thee see,  
Because he's secret in thy heart with thee,  
Which keepeth close within thy brazen breast,  
Where none can come but them whom thou lik'st best.  
Yet outwardly it plainly doth appear,  
Whom inwardly thou lov'st and harbourst there:  
For the very secrets of thy heart are shown  
By the outward actions which are too well known.  
For, to proceed, thy conscience can thee tell,  
Not from above, but even from lowest hell:  
For 'twixt these two thou canst not find a mean,  
But thou must either go to hell or heaven.  
Then blame thyself, if that thou dost amiss,  
To make thy choice of that, and forsake this,  
Hath ever man been born so blind as he,  
Which can, and may, and yet (oft) will not see?  
For such are all of them are so behaved,  
Whose sin to Satan hath their bodies slaved:  
For they are well said slaves to death and sin,  
Who faithful servants to the Devil have been.  
O horrid, horrid; what more horrid still,  
To think of this which is the end of ill?  
Can it be possible man's Reason should forget,  
'Fore all his actions th' end thereof to set?  
But if a man be able see yet's blind,  
No marvel then if he forget in is mind;  
For that proceeds out of his wilfulness,  
But this out of defect, forgetfulness:  
And both these weapons doth the Serpent use,  
And many more besides, this man to abuse:  
And no great need, for that this man alone,  
Even of himself, to sin is ever prone;  
And doth in's pleasure take so much delight,  
As what is wrong he will it shall be right.  
Yet cannot he from such vain thoughts be brought,  
'Cause blind to good, yet willing see what's nought.  
O wretched man, to be of such a feature,  
And yet o'ercome by such a wicked nature!  
And then thou'lt say, that this thy nature's such,  
And that thou art not able altered much.  
Art now become a very naturalist?  
Even such is every senseless natural beast.  
As are the untamed Lion, Bear, or Bull,  
Or like to that the beastly horse or mule:  
Yet all of these their nature so do heed,  
As bounds of nature they do ne'er exceed.  
For canst thou make a horse by force to eat,  
When stomach doth not serve him to his meat?  
Or canst thou make him's belly for to fill,  
Or yet to drink, if it be against his will?  
Examine conscience, it may chance to say,  
There is some man offended hath this way;  
So as these creatures may right well arise,  
To teach fond man how to become be wise.  
But thou, I hope, hast more in thee then so,  
Or else hadst thou ne'er been made man, I know:  
Thou hast, I am sure, a living soul in thee;  
But thou being blind, this soul thou wilt not see.  
Yet when thy eyes are , thou plainly dost,  
And careful art that it should not be lost.  
O then have care, keep open these eyes of thine,  
That they may make thy soul within thee shine  
In sight of him who did it in the make,  
And gave his life even for thy own souls sake.  
Then to him, to him do thou freely go,  
And pray that he will please thy eyes keep so,  
Thou mayst be bold to look up unto him  
Without all dread, or any deadly sin:  
For he alone it is must thee defend,  
Or else there's danger great of thee at th' end.  
Then fall before him on thy bended knees,  
Who heart, and thought, and all thy actions sees;  
And pray, and pray, and pray to him again,  
That he will please within thee to remain,  
And open thy eyes, so as thou mayst well see  
The cruel torments he endured for thee;  
And ever have them constantly in mind.  
And then thou shalt not fear to become blind:  
But such thou art, and such wilt ever be,  
If that thy Saviour shall a while leave thee.  
Then pray to him, and pray continually,  
That he will keep thee for eternity.  
Pray without ceasing, do thou never lin,  
Lest that thou enter into horrid sin:  
For if thou shouldst neglect to God to pray,  
Be well assured he will no longer stay.  
O stay with me, sweet Jesus, in my heart,  
That I from thee herehence do ne'er departed;  
But ever praying to thee night and day,  
That in thy service I may always stay,  
With heart, and soul, and all is in my mind;  
But all of these are apt to become blind.   

For now my conscience doth me plainly tell,  
That all, even all of me is nothing well,  
For that I see my thoughts do love to range,  
And think of things are uncouth and most strange,  
Against my settled resolution quite,  
From what is good, to that which is not right:  
And yet, O Lord, it is not in my power  
To make them stay, no not for one half hour;  
But they are gone, I do not well know where,  
Sometimes far off, and sometimes also near;  
And never rest upon one stable theme,  
But often flying out beyond the Realm.  
So as from gadding they'll not stay for me.  
I know not well what th' cause thereof should be.  
But by experience I do too well find,  
They'll not be guided by that is my mind;  
Which solely's set to serve my God and King,  
And evermore to him due praises sing;  
And strive to keep them in that blessed way,  
Nor never wander out, nor go astray.  
But then, even then, my wand'ring thoughts are gone,  
And that perchance to some strange region,  
And never use ask of me any leave,  
But of my good thoughts they do me bereave;  
Whereby apparently I understand,  
That my own thoughts are not in my own hand:  
Nor is't in me with force them to restrain,  
Where I desire that they should aye remain;  
But suddenly they roam and run about,  
To find that rest which cannot be found out,  
So as I am not able make them stay,  
But they are gadding still some other way.  
For though I strive with heart to make them think  
What I am writing with this pen of ink,  
Yet before I get but half of one line done,  
They are to seek, and from me quite out gone;  
Though I desire with all my very heart,  
That they should stay, and not from me departed  
Till I have done what I in heart desire,  
And what my soul doth in it soul require:  
Which is to cause them rest alone in thee  
Who hath me made, and likewise them in me.  
But sure if God did them unto me send,  
He sent them doubtless for some other end,  
And not to reel and ramble up and down,  
From this to that, and then to th' t'other town;  
And never stay where I wish they should be,  
But always running out abroad from me;  
Whereby doth rise a case full of some doubt  
What this may be which runneth thus about  
From heaven to hell, and then to heaven again;  
But yet being there, will not in heaven remain,  
Where I desire that they should ever rest,  
Because I know that place is ever blest  
With the glorious presence of my Saviour sweet,  
With whom my heart desires my soul may meet;  
And there to stay, and ever with him live,  
Whose goodness did it freely to me give:  
And then I doubt not but my soul shall rest  
Where I desire, and do in heart request  
Thou wilt vouchsafe within me bless them so,  
As they shall never from thy service go.  
In the mean time, till thou vouchsafe to say,  
Come thou the blessed, come, and with me stay,  
Here bide, my soul, and now set up thy rest;  
For by him solely thou art only blest:  
And have a care thou from him ne'er departed,  
Nor in thy thought, nor in thy very heart;  
For this, I fear, will prove too much in blame,  
Because I am not able th'other tame:  
For if my heart were of itself upright,  
It would not wander, nor be out on's sight,  
Who freely gave it for no other end,  
But him to serve even world without all end.  
O wretched, wretched, beast that thou shouldst be;  
Hast lived so long, and yet live wretchedly?  
Not minding th' end for which was't hither sent,  
Forgetful also of thy sins repent.  
What shall I think of this vile ill condition,  
That after so much godly admotion  
Of weakness great, if so I rightly call it;  
But I think rather strength I may so term it:  
For sure I am that it doth o'ercome me,  
And by my mind it will not ruled be:  
For I desire, with all my very heart,  
My secrets solely to my God impart,  
And in him wholly by true faith confide,  
And in him solely in my soul reside;  
Yet I am drawn, I cannot well say how,  
To think of things which I do not know now:  
For such are often got into my thought,  
Which are not worthy of remembering aught,  
If I should have desire them to recall,  
Which is a thing not possible at all;  
And if they could by me be spoke again,  
As they are hourly hatched in my brain,  
A man might well be thought to be but mad,  
Who in his head such idle thoughts hath had,  
Wherein is neither sense, nor any reason,  
Nor ought which is befitting any season.  
And some will say such hath a giddy head:  
I think most men are of that stamp indeed.  
When they're not stable in their inward mind,  
But altar so as doth th' inconstant wind.  
I marvel not if some such there should be;  
For such I am sure is I myself, I see;  
And yet my wit cannot it comprehend,  
Why I this madness in me cannot mend;  
Though I resolve to force it with me stay  
Within an instant it will me o'ersway,  
And many times to somethings that are ill,  
And that directly 'gainst what is my will.  
So I am not able of myself to say  
What this may be which hurrieth me away:  
For though I set my mind to accomplish this  
I am about, which is not much amiss  
(As I conceive) yet in me is it so,  
My wand'ring thoughts are carried to and fro,  
So as I cannot these my thoughts confine,  
From end to end of one poor silly line;  
Though I do strive, and often them invite  
Help me these mean and simple lines indite,  
Which I begun in hope of gaining good  
To be obtained by Christ his precious blood;  
Though still I find, to my no little grief,  
I have as yet received but small relief;  
Because my thoughts they will not be my own,  
But from my Saviour they still press me down,  
So as I cannot in sweet Jesus stay,  
Not one half hour, no not in one whole day,  
Without some idle interruption,  
Intending deeply my destruction.  
For I do plainly of it thus conceive,  
'Tis want of grace which cause my thoughts to rave;  
Since I may well compare them to the Kite,  
Who puling soars aloft a mighty height,  
Until he spy some beastly carrion;  
Then down he comes, in haste to seize upon  
That filthy thing, whereon he falls and feeds  
His gorge so full, that he for ease must needs  
Take rest a while, and after that again  
He doth return, and feeds thereon amain;  
And never far is drawn depart from it,  
So long as there is left one little bit,  
But flies about within sight of his prey,  
Except he be by a stronger forced away;  
And if he be, he'll by and by retreat  
To feed again upon that pleasing meat:  
Even so these wand'ring thoughts of mine surmount  
The starry sky, where I do make account  
That they should stay; but presently they come  
Down to this earth, where they do love to roam  
And roave (yea rave) and there do run about,  
Until they find some pleasing pleasure out;  
Whereon they rest themselves a while, and then  
They reel again, and ramble like mad men  
Are fight for they cannot well tell what,  
Nor matters much, so as it be not that  
Whereon they ought in heart to think upon,  
Which is my Savours bitter passion;  
And it they neither relish, sent, nor feel;  
So as by that I see they are not well,  
Nor will not be, except sweet Jesus please,  
Of his abundant goodness, grant me ease  
Of this my madness: for indeed so 'tis,  
It doth deprive me of that heavenly bliss  
Which thou, O Lord, of thine abundant love,  
Hast promised them are marked for heaven above;  
Who only call on thy most holy name,  
And in thy service do resolve remain:  
For calling is but to a little end,  
Without my life I seek for to amend;  
And that I see is not in my own power,  
Except, good God, thou please shut out of door  
This wicked legion that still leadeth me  
From heaven to earth, and then unto the sea;  
And back with speed unto the earth again,  
And there he suffers me a while remain,  
Till I begin, O Lord, to come to thee,  
Then he gins (that legion) trouble me  
And puts me off with some fair slighty tale.  
Whereby I set all former hopes to sale,  
For some fond pleasure the subtle Serpent shows,  
Which I accept, and so it down me throws  
From out the presence of my blessed Lord,  
Who hath me promised by his sacred word,  
If that I will but to him freely come,  
He will redeem me from that doleful doom  
Of Go thou cursed into the hell of fire,  
Which all thy actions seem for to desire;  
Since thou thyself dost lovingly embrace  
Whatsoever is set before thy sinful face  
By that foul fiend; and even with greatest joy,  
Though it do tend to thy greatest annoy,  
And utter ruin of thy whole estate,  
Which few but fools will buy at any rate;  
Who never aim at any other end,  
But what this earth to them on earth doth send:  
For hence these wretches never think to go,  
Till they be hurried hence into all wo.  
For though my conscience even now telleth me,  
That death at door I do most plainly see,  
Yet I presume that he will make no haste,  
And so in sin my life I utterly waste;  
Not minding these thy bounteous great blessings  
God gives to me, by his long-sufferings,  
In hope that I'll my sinful life repent,  
Performing duly wherefore I was sent;  
Which was to serve my God both day and night,  
As all they do who love to live in's sight.  
But I, poor I, a miserable wretched beast,  
Of all things else of that (most needful) least;  
So as I find there's nothing is in me,  
But only death-deserving cruelty;  
And that I do with very great hearts delight,  
And the reason is, because it is not right:  
For what I only ought to think upon,  
That either's now from me already gone,  
Or else I do it with a most dull spirit,  
Which shows I have but an ill appetite  
For to perform that which I ought to do  
Both with a mind and willing heart thereto;  
But these I find always are always apt to ill,  
And that they'll do, though it be 'gainst my will:  
And further, therein they do take delight,  
Though conscience say that they are not in right:  
But conscience is not able these two guide;  
For even 'gainst conscience they away do slide  
From heaven to earth, where these two both do lie,  
Without respect who 'tis that sits on high:  
So as with grief I do most plainly find,  
That there is always something in my mind  
Which should not be, if I could tell to mend it;  
But 'twill be so, till God shall please to help it.  
Sweet Jesus therefore please to come to me,  
That I in heart may also come to thee,  
And on thy passion steadfastly  think,  
And ne'er departed, or from thy suffering shrink,  
But always have it constantly in mind,  
And there my thoughts be well assured to find,  
Where I desire that they should ever be,  
With thee, dear God, dear God, alone with thee.  
Sweet Jesus grant, if it be thy blessed will,  
Vouchsafe be pleased to keep them with thee still,  
And never let them far from thee departed,  
But keep both them, and also my poor heart,  
Out Satan's reach, that he do never more  
Me overcome, as he hath done before,  
This my weak heart, who's faint, & hath no power  
Within itself, no not for one half hour,  
Itself to keep, except it so shall please  
My Saviour sweet this great tentation cease:  
For thou O Lord, and only thou alone  
Must either help, or other I have none.  
And therefore now I humbly to thee pray  
Thou wilt vouchsafe with me good Lord to stay,  
And safe me keep from all tentation  
Of that most subtle wicked Legion,  
Who winds himself into my very heart,  
And will not thence (by me) be drawn depart,  
Except thou please good Lord to cast him out,  
And let him range this terrene world about.  
And ne'er attempt to set on me again:  
But cause me still good God in thee remain,  
That I O Lord may ever in thee live,  
And heart and mind unto thee freely give;  
That with good conscience I may safely say,  
Thou'●t in my heart, and there dost live and stay,  
'Cause in my thoughts I do it surely find  
That thou art firmly seated in my mind,  
And will not suffer idle worldly toys  
For to deprive me of those heavenly joys,  
But that in them I may put my delight,  
And banish all whatsoever that are not right:  
So as no pleasure shall be able move  
My heart from thee my Saviour God above,  
But that in thee I may repose my rest  
In whom alone I shall be only blest,  
So I from thee do not again now fall,  
But on the name of my sweet Saviour call,  
When Satan doth my weak faint heart delude,  
And on my weakness doth himself intrude,  
Whereby he seeks to draw me still away  
From thee my Saviour and my only stay,  
By some deceitful bait which he hath set  
To overtake me in that woeful net,  
Wherein are taken every one of those  
Who in that Fiend do any trust repose:  
For who him trust, them surely he deceives,  
And of all goodness he them quite bereaves:  
Then trust him not; for if that so thou dost,  
Assure thyself thy soul is utterly lost:  
For there was never any gained by him,  
Who doth endeavour invite all to sin.  
Whatsoever he seems in show for to pretend,  
Be sure to find a horrid death in th'end:  
For all his projects are but crafty wiles  
Whereby poor sinners he of good beguiles,  
And doth not suffer them to see their sin  
Till they be taken in his hellish gin:  
And if by chance poor man it hap to spy,  
Then he will have some other readily,  
Whereby he may entrap this silly man,  
Who of himself no good at all he can;  
So as he is not able senses use,  
But their right end he utterly doth abuse.   

And here my soul do thou observe with care  
How by good use all parts assistant are  
With help to bring thee to that happy place  
Where all shall live who are endowed with grace,  
And in their journey care to keep the path  
Which leads to life, or else they gain the wrath  
Of that great God whose wondrous works are such  
As in this pilgrimage our journey may help much,  
If we but mark and to the Spirit give ear  
When God himself doth in each part appear,  
And every minute doth some warning give  
Which may direct us how on earth to live,  
So as with care we attend unto his call  
Who takes no pleasure in the sinners fall,  
Although in them he will be glorified  
Because his name we have not magnified.  
Have I received my senses all in vain,  
So as their use affords to me no gain,  
But loss of life, and my sweet Saviour,  
Who doth not cease to call me every hour.  
O now, O now begin to look at home,  
And see thy senses how they all do come  
Without respect of him who hath them sent,  
Or th'end for which they were unto thee lent:  
And do not quench the Spirit of God in thee,  
Lest thou be blind when dost desire to see▪  
O then use eyes, and use them to that end  
For which Jehovah did them to thee send:  
For wheresoever thou turn'st this eye of thine,  
The work of God most plain in it doth shine.  
If to the heavens, thou seest his glory there,  
Who for thy sins was pleased on earth appear:  
If to the earth, each herb a wonder is,  
And by that wonder help thy soul to bliss.  
Look in thy heart, and there thou mayst behold  
How Satan's black, although he shine like gold.  
Then see thy soul, the chiefest of thy rest,  
How it desires to be where●t may be blest.  
O further that desire with every sense,  
Who shall for it receive good recompense.  
Observe how God bestowed on thee a Taste,  
And in that part of th'body it hath placed,  
So as there's nothing into th'corpse can go,  
But it gives warning whether't be so or no.  
Then use this taste unto its own right end  
Thou'lt see that God did it unto thee send;  
Not for to taste that Evahs' bitter apple,  
Lest thou want strength with Satan for to grapple:  
But 'twas to taste the things for th'body food,  
Lest aught may enter there which is not good.  
O then do thou of good have only care,  
And all things ill of them be thou ware,  
Lest that thy soul may lose its spiritual health,  
Which is more worth than all thy worldly wealth,  
O be thou curious of thy bodies taste,  
Lest pleasing sins may make thy soul to waste;  
Li●e as the body with its poisoned pills,  
Tho gold without, within they're stuffed with ills,   

Another Sentinel hath Jehovah sent,  
Lest thou should smell something thou might repent  
Thou'lt stop thy nose when't feels a scent is ill:  
Then stay each member, and restrain thy will,  
Which are delighted with each pleasing smell,  
But have a care such scent not towards hell.  
All finest flowers have not the sweetest smell,  
Scent thou then such as to thy soul scents well:  
Let that scent only please thy inward mind,  
Although thy corpse esteem it most unkind:  
For soul and bodies scent have several sense,  
This loveth sin, but that love's penitence:  
O then prefer that which thy soul doth scent,  
Lest that in th'end thy corpse have cause repent:  
Use that restriction with this Sentinel,  
That it scent nothing but that doth scent well  
Unto thy soul, let it thy scent approve,  
Who hates all ill, and what is good doth love.  
Another sense hath this great God thee sent,  
To feel thy sins, and of them to repent:  
Thou well canst feel a small stroke of thy skin,  
Yet wilt not feel the Spirit how quenched within.  
Canst thou feel hurts, if in thy body's members,  
But thy souls hurt thou'lt not be drawn remember  
Consider well how God hath placed this sense  
In th'outward part, of th'inward for defence:  
Thou wilt prevent the falling of a tree,  
But th'greatest sin thou thinkest cannot hurt thee:  
Canst thou be careful of thy body's food,  
And have no feeling of thy soul its good?  
Canst thou feel prickles in thy tender skin,  
And cannot feel thy soul is pricked within?  
Dost thou not know that when thy soul is gone,  
Thy body then hath feeling in it none?  
Examine conscience whether's greatest care  
For this thy body, or thy soul is there?  
I fear thou feelest this of thy body more  
Than dost thy soul, though smitten ne'er so sore.  
O senseless man! have feeling of thy sin,  
Or else thou'lt feel that God is not within.   

Another member hath Jehovah given,  
Using all helps to bring this man to heaven:  
On either side of th'head hath set an Ear,  
That either side the Spirit of God may hear.  
Then hear this Spirit which loudly crieth on thee,  
Lest thou too late mayst cry, Good Lord help me!  
Thou know'st that God hath promised all to hear  
That call on him; then do not thou forbear,  
But call in time, lest it may prove too late,  
When death hath deemed deep hell to be thy fate.  
Doth not God send a tinkling in thy ears  
To make thee think 'tis th'passing bell thou hears?  
O do not stop thy ears from this sweet bell,  
For it may help to stop thy way to hell.  
Say, hast not heard thy sins ofttimes reproved,  
And notwithstanding thou thy sins hast loved?  
Remember Adam, he heard Evahs' voice,  
And left his seed by it no cause rejoice.  
Then stop thy ears against the Sirens song,  
For sweetest singers often lead to wrong:  
But open them wide unto thy Saviour's cry,  
And then fear not, he'll not thy suit deny:  
But then must thou leave off thy pleasing sin,  
Or else be sure thy s●ul is lost within.  
But there is nothing that is in man's power  
Without the help of his good Saviour.  
Then to him, to him, to him freely go,  
And be not thou put off from him with no:  
But fall down flat upon thy bended knees,  
And ne'er rise up till such time he shall please  
To call thee thence, and show to thee the way  
Wherein with safety thou mayst walk and stay.  
But before thou art able to accomplish this,  
Which is no doubt a perfect heavenly bliss,  
Thou must repent thee of thy former sin  
And horrid life which thou hast lived in:  
And that being done from th'bottom of thy heart,  
With resolution ne'er from him departed,  
Nor be o'ercome as hereto thou hast been  
With willing mind to commit any sin;  
Assure thyself he will thy prayers hear,  
And to thy soul he will himself appear,  
And yield thee comfort from the heavens above,  
Even from thy Saviour who is God of love.  
Then mayst thou think that there is hope of rest  
In him by whom thou shalt be ever blest:  
For only by him, and by him alone  
Thou must have rest, or rest there will be none.  
Then since thou know'st where rest is to be had,  
Be not dismayed in any sort with dread;  
But let him always be to thee a guide,  
And stand resolved thou never from him slide:  
But have a care to keep him in thy mind,  
And then be sure that thou shalt ever find  
That saving health thou didst in heart desire,  
If thou do it with heart and soul require,  
Without all fear of any opposition  
Of that most hellish and most wicked Legion:  
For if thy blessed Saviour be but there,  
Assure thyself be will not come thee near;  
But if that Christ shall once but turn his back,  
Then look about thee, have care be not slack;  
For if thou be, than thou shalt surely find  
That he will quickly enter on thy mind;  
And if by cunning he get in a foot,  
Thou art not able get his body out,  
But he'll have all, and then he there will dwell  
Until he draw thee down with him to hell.  
Then he thou careful of thy inward mind,  
To fix it always on thy Saviour kind:  
And then fear not, but well assured be  
He'll keep it during all eternity.   

For now I find what I have so long sought,  
That th'only cause of my unruly thought  
Is want of constant settling them on thee,  
On whom they always solely aught to be.  
Since I now know that never sin was seen,  
Which to this wicked thought did not prevene:  
For first 'tis hatched in my barren brain,  
Before in heart it can come to remain;  
And thence it spreads itself to every part,  
Because that all the whole man should feel smart:  
For doubtless know that every several sense  
Shall suffer deeply without penitence;  
For every part of pain participate,  
Of weal or woe, of love or else of hate.  
Then keep a good guard of thy outward thought,  
Lest aught may enter in it wh●ch is nought:  
For there will Satan's battery first begin,  
To bring thy body into deadly sin;  
Then look thy guard be watchful, good & strong,  
That it may always walk with thee along,  
To give thee warning of thy enemy,  
That thou mayst aye be ready from him sly;  
For few that strive do obtain victory,  
And to some strong force do thou thee betake,  
Even him alone who died for thy sins sake.  
And will safe keep thee unto thy lives end;  
But then must thou thy life on earth amend,  
Else little hope that he will keep thee free  
From this deceitful watchful enemy.  
Then give thy heart unto thy God alone,  
For he'll have that, or else he will have none.  
Nay give him all, even all whatsoever thou hast,  
For what he wants be sure thou dost but waist;  
And more than so, for that which he hath not,  
Shall surely fall to Satan's only lot,  
Seeing he is watchful, ever ready pressed  
To thrust himself into thy bony breast,  
If that thy Saviour be not biding there.  
And therefore see that thou my soul do ne'er  
Departed from out Christ's blessed company,  
For if thou dost, assure thyself to die,  
Since Satan he is always at the door,  
To enter there, if that thy Saviour  
Be out of th'way, and therefore have a care,  
That Satan ne'er have power to enter there:  
For if he do, then sure thou art but gone,  
Seeing Christ will all, or else he will have none▪  
Then give't him, give't him, give thy Saviour all,  
And never lin, but to him heartily call,  
That he will please this all of thine accept,  
Which he alone with his right hand hath kept  
Out Satan's power, who hath so long led thee  
Until this time from thy very infancy,  
So now full time from this foul Fiend to fly,  
Or else ne'er look to live, but look to die:  
For death's the best that he is able give  
To any of them who in their sins do live;  
So if thou purpose now to prevent death,  
It must be done whilst thou on earth hast breath;  
For when thy life upon this earth is done,  
Then doth that dreadful day of judgement come,  
And 'tis decreed that all must undergo  
Their latest doom, which is, or Come, or Go,  
And that pronounced, thou mayst of this be sure,  
Or weal or woe shall then for ay endure.  
And after that decree is done and passed,  
There is no hope it can be ere reversed.  
Then pray that this may be thy final doom,  
Blessed of the Lord, do thou unto me come.  
Was ever comfort heard of like to this,  
Which brings thy soul into eternal bliss?  
Where all the Saints with joyful noise accord  
To sing the praises of the heavenly Lord,  
Who was, and is, and evermore shall be,  
Till th'end of Time, and thence eternally.  
Let all the earth join and due praises sing  
To this our God, and glorious heavenly King.  
'Mongst these, my soul, do thou set up thy rest,  
Here none abide but them are only blest.  
Then do thou strive this blessedness to gain,  
That thou with them mayst evermore remain,  
And always joyful Alleluja's sing  
To Christ thy Saviour, and thy heavenly King,  
Who hath thy soul thus far enlightened so,  
As it may be freed from that most doleful woe,  
And woeful word of Go from hence thou cursed,  
Of all that ere was heard the very worst.  
Sweet Jesus please for to preserve me so,  
As I may never hear this word of Go,  
Which is so fearful to my fleshly heart,  
Which makes it grieve, and inwardly to smart.  
Come blessed Lord, be pleased vouchsafe me cure  
Of this my grievous pain which I endure,  
For very sorrow of this horrid fear,  
More heavy than I am able to bear,  
To think what danger this my soul is in,  
By my long life spent all in deadly sin,  
But that my Saviour pleaseth comfort me,  
When I remember how he died for me,  
And that his coming was for this intent,  
To call me to him that I might repent:  
Then please sweet Jesus (sinful me) to call,  
And so as I do never from thee fall.  
But ever worship thee my God and King,  
And with a joyful heart thy praises sing,  
Amongst that glorious heavenly Angel's Choir,  
Whose joys are full beyond all hearts desire,  
And with them sing to thee continually,  
And so shall do for all eternity,  
The worthy praises of that heavenly King,  
Whose wondrous works o'er heaven and earth do ring.  
Then sing, my soul, and ever jovial be,  
The praises due to him that died for thee,  
Let all the earth conjoin, and praises sing  
To this our God, and glorious heavenly King,  
Both Father, Son, and eke the holy Ghost,  
Who's God alone, and of all might is most,  
And worthy is of all be ever blest,  
And here my soul do now set up thy rest.  
And have a care serve him continually,  
And then be sure that thou shalt never die.    
Vouchsafe, good GOD, to this to say, Amen. SAMUEL BRASS.   

O Almighty, everliving, most merciful God, and to me a most loving and kind Father, I the work of thy hands, unworthy even the very lest of thy benefits, unworthy so much as to lift up mine eyes towards thy divine Majesty, much less worthy to call unto thee for mercy, or to receive any mercy thy hands; Yet, gracious God, for that thou hast appointed all them that are heavy laden to come unto thee, and thou wilt ease them, I most entirely beseech thee of thy abundant goodness, to ease me of this burden of sin, under which I have spent most part of that time thou hast been pleased to bestow upon me for thy own service solely, Lord lay them not upon my soul now at my departure, but wash them away with the precious blood of thy dearly beloved Son Jesus Christ, bury them in his wounds, dear Father, that they may never rise up against me either in this life, or that everlasting: but please, good Lord, at my death to vouchsafe me this comfort, of all others most comfortable, Come thou blessed, receive the Kingdom I have purchased for thee. In full assurance whereof I commend my soul into thy hands, Lord keep it there for his sake who so dearly bought it with his precious blood, in whose Name I make bold to call unto thee in that perfect form of prayer he himself hath taught me, saying, Our Father which art in Heaven, etc.   

To my dear and only Son, WILLIAM BRASS.  
SON, these three letters imply three distinct persons, Father, Mother, and Child; these their several offices, the Father to educate his child in the fear of God, and provide for his livelihood: the Mother to assist as a helper: the Son to obey both, and observe them with a filial care. I thank my God there hath been no neglect of any part since you had your being; and now at my departure I have left you this little Book, useful in this woeful time of War, though not against lime and stone, yet against that active Enemy is ever ready upon all occasions to assault you; and therein also you may view the infirmities life, and by them apply some good use to your own. Other wealth I am likely leave but a little, since God hath so appointed it should be reft from me by the Sabeans. Esteem this as your Father's last Will, read it with deliberation, meditation, and contemplation; there may (happily) some thing be found in it, will redound to your good when I am in grave. Keep it in your pocket, and peruse it often, it may prove more worth than much wealth; and as you tender your own good, or your Father's command, I charge you upon all accasions, which (doubless) will be many, have recourse to the first Lines, and in assurance thereof I shall live and die your loving Father,  
Samuel Brass.   

A Note of the principal Points casually handled in this Book.  

OF our Saviour's passion 1  
Of the Mind 18  
Of England's broils 30  
Of Moses 25  
Of Doomsday 35  
Of joy and fear 37  
Of Hell 39  
Of lameness 41  
Of account of time 48  
Of repentance 49  
Of King David 53  
Of dreams 56  
Of wonders 59  
Of man's frailty 60  
Of Peter's walk 63  
Of Faith 67  
Of Angels 72  
Of Toby 72  
Of the alteration of times 82  
Of the Soul 91  
Of the Sacrament 93  
Of the abuse of creatures 95  
Of hunting 96  
Of Death 52  
Of the Bed 69  
Of the Stair to heaven 73  
Of the Garden 77  
Of Adam's fall 79  
Of the Sun 82  
Of the Spirit 86  
Of Jobs patience 88  
Of lamentation 89  
Of woe 99  
Of the Heart 105  
Of Peter's Cock 108  
Of dancing 112  
Of dissimulation 114  
Of England's tears 118  
Of account of sin 122  
Of the Prodigal 125  
Of Pleasure 128  
Of the end of man's creation 134  
Of Madness 143  
Of Repentance 146  
Of our Saviour's life 150  
Of wand'ring thoughts 160  
Of the use of Senses 220  
Of sinful thoughts 224  
The Author's Prayer 229   
Reader, Some Numbers of the Pages are mistaken in the book; but the order of the Contents is rightly observed.  
FINIS.