DIVINE GLIMPSES OF A Maiden Muse: Being Various MEDITATIONS and EPIGRAMS On Several SUBjECTS. With A probable future CURE Of Our present Epidemical MALADY; If the means be not too long neglected.  
By Chr. Clobery Esquire.  
LONDON: Printed by James Cottrel. 1659.   

To his undoubted (though unknown) Friend, George Whither Esq; Britain's Ancient REMEMBRANCER.  
SIr, though to me unknown your person be,  
Your better parts my soul doth plainly see,  
In your fulfilled predictions, and in those  
Which shall fulfilled be, how soon none knows,  
But he who them inspired: Yet I dare say,  
I'm sure they shall; and hope to see the day  
Of their fulfilling: when our Rulers here  
Shall hearken to a slighted Engineer:  
And shall have ears to hear, and eyes to see  
The ways of truth, of peace, and unity,  
And walk therein. Mean while, dear Sir peruse  
This Widow's Mite of an old Maiden-Muse:  
Wherein, what you approve, let stand: what not,  
Razeout: If all be faulty, all out blot,  
And blot my folly too: let silence   
Make its remembrance in your censure die.  
I much desired to be a Witness true  
Unto these Nations (long since warned by you)  
Of God's proceed with them: and that he  
Called you of old, their Watchman here to be;  
And that you faithfully discovered to them,  
Time after time their ways, that would undo them,  
And showed their way of peace: yet we march on,  
On the wrong fork of your Greek Ypsilon:  
The Lord sound our retreat: for he alone  
Can guide right who so long astray have gone.  
And here I testify unto these Nations,  
That (though they fall) you sought their preservations;  
And that their fall is wilful; but however,  
You have a sure reward laid up for ever:  
And this, I hope, will some small comfort be  
To your oppressed Muse, when she shall see  
An English man attest that she's divine,  
And sunlike, shall in Britain henceforth shine,  
When future Generations unsealed eyes  
Shall see accomplished your past prophecies;  
Which if our souls with patience can attend,  
God's glory and our good shall be the end.  
Christopher Clobery.   

To the Reader.  
REader, this Poem (verbally the same) was composed divers years since, and dedicated to Mr. Wither (a man to me utterly unknown) and about three years since, at my first sight of him, offered to him; whose modest refusal to own my attributes, concurring with my bashful timidity of publishing it, hath hitherto suppressed it. And the great God (who hath since by his providences whipped me to it) knows that with much reluctancy of spirit I now divulge it, as that which hath been kept secret from my near and dear Relations, whose pardon I here implore for the same. Cover the defects hereof with candid connivance, the Errors of the Press with the consideration of my near 200 mile's distance from the Printer. If this profit my Country or thee, it will redound to my joy; if it disprofit myself, to my contentation, and submittance to his Divine Will, who wrought this impulse on the spirit of  
Thy Friend in Him, C. C.   

ERRATA.  
PAge 3. line 2. for Embyron, read Embryon. p. 8. l. 1. r. man. p. 14. l. 4. f. sores, r. snares. p. 16. l. 7. f. ambitious, r. ambition's. p. 21. l. 22. f. grudgeth, r. grudg'th. p. 26. l. 18. f. he, r. her. p. 32. l. 21. f. feigned, r. famed. p. 34. l. 30. f. overcometh, r. o'ercometh. p. 35. l. 36. f. the, r. this. p. 41. l. 6. f. his, r. is. ibid., l. 11. f. judgement, r. judgements. l. 13. f. presumptuous, r. presumption's. l. 29. f. profan'th, r. profanest. l. 34. r. presumption's. l. 35. f. works, r. work. p. 47. l. 1. f. whipped, r. wiped p. 48. l. 3. f. near, r. new. l. 24. f. move, r. more. l. 29. f. dewy, r. dreary. p. 51. l. 9 f. victual, r. victuals. p. 53. l. 24. r. keeps. p. 55. l. 18. r. foyes. l. 22. r. should f. shall. p. 57 l. 30. f. souls, r. fowls. ibid., f. whom, r. when. p. 61. l. 19 f. hive, r. hine. l. 24. f. flame, r. flames. f. wants, r. want. p. 66. l. 20. r. all thy customers. p. 67. l. 4. f. no, r. on. p. 70. l. 1. r. provokest. l. 23. f. putifri'st, r. putrifi'st. l. 30. r. corrosives. p. 71. l. 10. r. autocrator. p. 73. l. 11. r. misled. p. 79. l. 16. r. foils. l. 18. r. panpharmacon f. paupharmacon. p. 87. l. 26. f. divine, r. dim. p. 89. l. 9 f. first, r. fixed. p. 97. l. 11. f. sphere. r. peer. p. 110. l. 15. f. leave, r. lave. p. 111. l. 15. f. you're, r. 've. l. 26. f. past, r. part. p. 121. l. 33. f. the, r. thee. p. 129. l. 1. f. valedictionis, r. valedictiones. p. 136. l. 8. f. the, r. thee. p. 154. l. 17. f. precious stones, r. precious sons. p. 155. l. 6. f. betten, r. better. p. 162. l. 12. f. self-proud sway, r. selves proud sway.   

DIVINE GLIMPSES OF A MAIDEN MUSE.  

On Election.  
Revealed things may be Christian Poets song,  
But hidden things to God alone belong:  
LOVE was the reason why he thus did do;  
But such a LOVE as none can dive into.   

On the Creation.  

LOrd, what a wonder's here! which none but thou  
Can bring to pass (as Atheists must avow.)  
Nature says, Out of nothing, nothing's had;  
But Nature's God, of nothing, all things made:  
Heaven, Earth, and Sea, with all that in them is;  
Angels and Men: yet nought of all amiss;  
Till those whom thou most perfect mad'st of all,  
Corrupted all the rest, by their base fall.  
Angels and Men, were they that robbed of glory  
The whole Creation; and made transitory  
What thou mad'st permanent: their sinning drew  
Vanity on the creature; and thence grew  
Each Discord, and Dissension, that doth reign  
Among them all, and us; and shall remain,  
Until thy Kingdom come, when thou shalt right  
Whatever we made crooked in thy sight:  
Which hasten, Lord, that (if thy pleasure be)  
In this our pilgrimage we may it see.   

The wondrous work of thy well-timed creation,  
Deserves observance, and our admiration;  
Times date and birth, from this first week of years,  
Or day of weeks, or hour of days appears;  
And, as we know there was no Time before,  
Our Faith foresees when Time shall be no more.  
Here all these temporary things begun,  
Framed by thy Word: and when their time is run,  
Shall by the same Word cease again to be:  
Save what eternised is, by thy Decree  
A part post, which (everlasting made)  
Though time began them, shall not with time fade.  
Such Angels are, and such our souls; and we  
Shall such in bodies after Judgement be:  
Yea, now such are; only here's interruption  
Till this corruption put on incorruption.  
Till this mortality invested be  
With immortality; which change to thee  
Is less than nothing; (though to us most strange)  
Who changest what thou wilt, yet dost not change.  
Our Bodies pulverated, (nay, much more:  
Admit annihilated) thou'lt restore  
Identically such again to be,  
The very same as we the same now see;  
Save what may perfectize thine own Elect,  
And in the Reprobates augment defect.  
But soft, my Muse; launch not into the deep,  
Lest thou overwhelmed be; to Leeward keep:  
These depths are soundable by none but him,  
Who can walk dry where heaven & earth may swim,  
Whose Spirit moved upon the water's face,  
When all the world an Emb●…ion Chaos was.  
Lord, these thy works of wonder far transcend  
What can be thought, much more what can be penned.  
My silenced Quill (by thy dread awe suppressed)  
Shall cease to write. I'll wonder out the rest.    

An Epigram on the Creation.  
POor man! why, why so proud? see here thy stock;  
Thy principles are chips of Nothing's block:  
Thy Mother, Earth: beast, fish, fowls, worms, and all,  
May thee their younger Brother justly call:  
Yet he who all things out of nothing made,  
The rule of them to thee committed had:  
But thou by sin that Kingdom forfeited'st,  
Pois'ned'st the air thou breathest, the earth thou treadest.  
Disord'redst all the creatures. Mark this well:  
And why art ' proud? because an heir to hell?  
That's a flight ground for Pride; that's reason small:  
For cursed is that Kingdom, heirs and all:  
Truly thou 'rt proud for want of Grace (I fear)  
And pride entitles thee to be hell's heir.   

Another on the same.  
OH how it blinds all mortal wits to pry  
Into a time when all was Trinity!  
Next Angels, Men, Heaven, Earth, Hell, Sea, were one  
Coagulted Chaos, formed alone  
Out of mere nothing, by the Tri-Une God,  
Who for his glory, on them all bestowed  
Their beings: but to Man alone did give  
A means (when dead) whereby he might revive  
In Gods own glory (if he sought it here)  
Who slights that love of his Crearor dear.  
Lord make us once again; or better 'twere  
We nothing had remained, as first we were:  
Better for us indeed, but one to thee,  
Who wilt have glory, though we damned be.   

On the Creatures.  
SEe the great Architectors Alphabet  
In his grand Chirograph, man's second Book,  
Wherein by reading, he may knowledge get  
Of his Creator; spell his Name, whose look  
Would blind all mortal eyes. But this great Glass  
Doth by reflection represent that God  
Unto Man's prying Soul, who Penman was  
Of all these Characters. It's wondrous odd  
To see Man's gross stupidity, how blind  
His sin-soiled Reason's grown; his will perverse,  
That dumb Irrationals are fain to mind  
Him of his God: nay, he is more averse  
From answering the end of his creation,  
By far, than they; who in their kinds fulfil  
God's sacred will, and keep (in their low station)  
His holy Laws, according to their skill:  
They do so all, and always: but our hearts  
Are shooting still at Rovers, when the Lord  
Hath set us Butt-marks: our vile Nature thwarts  
His ways of Grace: our Wills oppose his Word,  
As if we would send challenges to Heaven,  
And woe Damnation: headless, heedless man  
Sets all his Maker's Laws at six and seven:  
In scorn neglects, what do with ease he can.  
Should this great Army of the creatures be  
So mutinous, the world would soon resolve  
Into its principles; Man's Pedigree  
Produce no more descents. Oh let's revolve  
This in our hearts; and view this goodly frame,  
(As an eye-lecture to our souls) to bring  
Us home to holy life; that we his Name  
May glorify, who is our God and King.  
Amen.   

On Redemption.  
TEnter up Nature to the highest pin;  
And rack Philosophy with quaintest gin;  
Frenzifie Chemistry; and summon too't  
The old red Serpent's wits calcined to boot;  
A way to find for lapsed man to rise,  
And unborn-Babes might it as soon devise,  
As that grand Senate: But they ne'er desired  
That work, by Men and Angels so admired.  
Nature conceived it not to be conceived;  
Wherein the God of Nature her deceived.  
Philosophy with reason would have shaken  
That plot; whence for Morosophy she's taken:  
Chymistry's wit (to prove a practice rare)  
Turned Ignis fatuus, and expired in air:  
The subtle Serpent (keeping still the field  
With World and Flesh) a Lamb enforced to yield.  
Oh Lamb invincible! to thee be glory:  
Were't not for thee, the Serpent sure would worry  
Thy little Lambs, dispersed here and there;  
Now so far sundered, as no man knows where:  
Haste, Lord, to reunite them: and disperse  
Thine and their Foes, revengeful and perverse:  
For thou art Judah's Lion, and canst tame  
The wildest Beasts that dare blaspheme thy Name:  
For thine, hast thou descended from above,  
From thy dear Father, and the sacred Dove:  
From everlasting glory, to put on  
(A shrine that Angels ne'er could think upon)  
Our basest nature, for our base sakes:  
Who this in contemplation truly takes,  
Must needs be wonder-struck, stand, and admire  
At thy divinest love, who dost desire  
For all thy pains (which pass all valuation)  
Nothing but hearty, meek retaliation  
Of love for love; doubtless (were man not mad,  
Satan still tempting, world and flesh as bad,  
And self-betraying self still pressing on us,  
By sin to draw more hardness still upon us)  
The hardest heart could ne'er retain a thought  
Of slighting love by God so dearly bought;  
Who paid a price of blood for man's base fall,  
Enough to ransom Devils, men and all;  
Had he ordained so, whose mercy will  
Man shall redeemed be, but they damned still:  
O mercy trans-superlative! so high  
As blinds both men's and Angels reasons eye;  
And dumb's my Muse, who else would fain expend  
Time on this subject, till my time shall end.   

Applicatio & Oratio.  
WHat, God and man? And God for man be so?  
Think man what thou to God for this dost owe.  
The debt is great, if thou a Bankrupt art:  
Yet he is sated, give him but thy heart.  
Oh take it, Lord, thou boughtst it dear: 'tis thine:  
It was, but is not now, nor shall be mine:  
Lord, hold it fast; for sure it's slip'ry ware;  
'twill slide from thee, without thy special care.   

An Epigram on our Redemption.  
Fallen man redeemed? what cannot mercy do  
That saves those who their own destruction woe?  
Man's actions (retrograde from what they seem)  
Tend all to what none wise their end would deem:  
Mercy in heart he likes; In practice proves  
That he severest justice rather loves:  
And have it sure he should, had not the Son  
Of his incensed God his pardon won:  
Who gave his foes his blood, and flesh for food.  
O love incredible to flesh and blood!  
It can be credited by none, but those  
Whom that true Manna turns to friends from foes;  
Whose faiths eyes their redemption see as clear,  
As fleshly eyes see any object here.   

On man's Justification.  
LOrd! I am wonder-struck at this sweet sound:  
Justification doth me quite confound.  
When I consider what our nature is,  
Thoughts, words, and works, and all that is amiss,  
Even in the best of the best man's endeavours,  
The Agues of our spirits, and their fevers,  
And all our soul-sick frenzies (which possess  
Some with a fancy of self-righteousness)  
Our waywardness to good; proneness to ill,  
Rounding the paths of sin, like horse in mill;  
The number numberless of all our crimes;  
reiterated too so many times,  
And re-committed, after penitence,  
And vows against them, which must needs incense  
A just and holy God, whose piercing eye  
Sees the least Atome-sin, and can espy  
Damned guilt in deeds which men have deemed most glorious,  
Yea, which some have imagined meritorious;  
Tell me (think I) as well the Sea doth burn,  
The spheres stand still, and rolling earth doth turn;  
As that base m●n can just appear to thee,  
Who in his life such horrid blots dost see;  
Each heart's imaginations thou dost spy  
Ill wholly, only, and continually.  
Yet so it is, Lord: thou hast found a way  
By which man (as it were) deceive thee may,  
And blind thy Justice; plead thy Son's desert  
For our im-merits, thou contented art.  
Admired mercy! Love stupendious!  
Our Creditor should pay the debt for us  
Due to himself; whereof we ne'er could pay  
The smallest mire, nor the least charge defray:  
Else had we in eternal torments lain:  
But thou both paid'st the debt, and borest the pain;  
That thy divinest Justice might receive  
Full satisfaction, lest she else might grieve  
To be o'ercome by mercy: so dost thou  
Punish our sins in Christ, and disavow  
Our acting of them. And unjust it were,  
To punish us, since he our sins did bear:  
He hath for us fulfilled thy Law, and born  
Most hellish torments, and earth's basest scorn:  
That faith in him might make us fair to thee,  
Who else should in thine eyes like Devils be;  
Nay worse than they; since mercy we contemn,  
And proffered grace which thou ne'er deign'st to them:  
Doubtless hadst thou ordained thy Lamb to die  
Them to redeem, as well's man's progeny;  
(Whose blood might have redeemed them all as well)  
There had not been a Devil now in Hell.  
Pardon me Lord, if I hyperbolise,  
Or in opinion too much charitize  
Towards thy foe and ours; It's but to show  
Ou● dead, depraved nature, marked by few,  
Mended by none, nor mendable by any  
Save thee alone; Our breaches are so many.  
Lord, re-enliven this dead corpse by grace:  
Rebuild its breaches; all its sins deface:  
Say to it, Be thou just, and it shall be  
Just in thy sight, and from defilement free.   

An Epigram on the same.  
Bade good! day night! the swarthest blackmoor white!  
Injustice just! in God's allseeing sight!  
Is he deceived? can his eye blinded be?  
Love makes him undertake to oversee,  
And take upon himself man's sins: Our score  
He cleared hath: Oh let us sin no more!  
Lest he repent him of the mercy shown us:  
And see us like ourselves: and so disown us:  
For it transcends all wonder, sinful dust  
Should in the great Creator's eyes be just.   

On man's Sanctification.  
GOd us creates, redeems, and justifies,  
By means without us, which he did devise;  
And all by works of wonder past all thought,  
In love and wisdom infinite he wrought:  
Whereby he us engaged beyond all hope;  
Yet still his love proceeds to find new scope,  
Wonders to work within us; To renew  
Our nature by his grace; to make false true;  
To sanctify unsanctified man;  
A work that quite confounds my heart to scan.  
Here's nature mortified, yet living still:  
Grace vivified, and rectifying will:  
Yet Will, by Nature clean a verse from Grace,  
And Grace and Nature ne'er well brooked one place.  
Here's Sin still dying, and yet still reviving;  
Using all means to live, and yet not thriving:  
The Prince of Darkness still the soul assailing,  
Though never quite beat off, nor yet prevailing:  
Conscience and Reason daily are in fight,  
Yet Conscience hath sweet peace, and Reason right:  
The Flesh oft seeks to undermine the Spirit,  
With self-conceit, presumption, and false merit,  
And many other ways her up to blow,  
As Man renewed (to his great grief) doth know:  
Mean while the Spirit with inforc●d agility,  
Doth countermine against them with Humility,  
Which sweet mild saint o'ercomes them all: But then,  
When she low thoughts of self hath wrought in men,  
Satan doth re-assault with furious force,  
Attempting them from God quite to divorce  
By fell Despair; and raiseth batteries  
To storm the fort where Faith enfeebled lies:  
Who when the fight grows dangerous and hot,  
Pulls in a Lamb betwixt her and the shot;  
And (under his protection) overthrows  
All Satan's Bulwarks, and routs all her Foes;  
Foes that would quickly all mankind undo,  
Were not our Lamb Judah's Tribes Lion too;  
Whose everlasting power with ease can quell  
The joined force of all the Fiends in Hell.  
Then let the roaring Lion seek abroad,  
Whom to devour throughour the world's great road;  
Rage, rave, and plot, and send his subtle spies,  
(Th' unbottomed pits black locusts) whose quick eyes  
See all earth's Globe at once: fear not, my soul,  
Although thy foes conspiracies are foul;  
Their combinations strong; their plots most deep;  
Israel's Keeper slumbers not: no sleep  
Skreens up his eyes, who all their plots will dash,  
And thee deliver from their horrid lash;  
Remit thy sins, obliterate thy folly,  
And make thee holy as himself is holy;  
Till thou be with the Lamb (who's Judah's Lion)  
Rapped up to reign for ever on Mount Zion,  
And sing with that Celestial Choir above,  
Sweet Hallelujahs to the God of Love.   

An Epigram on the same.  
SAnctification is the Tree of Life,  
Not that false tree that fooled our grandsires wife:  
Whereby we from our innocence fell:  
This is the way to Heaven, that was to Hell.  
Whoso on this Trees sacred fruit doth feed,  
Shall be in all things like to God indeed.   

Sin.  
MOnster of Monsters! who hast monstrous made  
Nature itself, in us, who natures had  
First, pure, and holy, and to good inclined:  
Till (by thy falsehood) we to bad declined:  
And thy mere essence is extreme averse  
From God, and good; but prone to ways perverse.  
All that the great Jehovah made, was good  
When he created it; and (had they stood)  
Angels and Men had so continued still:  
But they would needs be gods, and had their will  
So far, that they Creators were of thee,  
Whom they created, both their falls to be:  
A Creatures Creature, and so vile a one,  
That Heaven, Earth, Hell, so bade besides have none;  
Rake Topher's cinders; sift the Serpent's seed;  
And keep the worst; yet will that damned breed  
More fair in Gods allseeing eyes appear,  
Then Sin, which summoned them together there.  
Sin made God angry; Men and Angels fall;  
Made God make Hell: and Sin made devil and all.  
Ah! cursed caitiff; how can we delight  
In the embracement of such wretched wight?  
A hideous Elf, abhorred of all that's good;  
Our dear Redeeme's Murderer; whose Blood  
By cursed sacrilegious hands was spilt,  
To wash our souls from sins polluting guilt.  
Our soul's the precious game for which she fishes,  
Which to destroy eternally she wishes;  
Yet we (bewitched w●) most dearly love her;  
Too dearly sure, as all will find that prove her:  
Whose souls shall purchase (Oh the dearest gain!)  
For sins short pleasure, their eternal pain.  
'Tis sure some witchcraft, some enchanting spell,  
Whereby she trains us on asleep to Hell:  
And stupifies our senses; blinds our eyes;  
Obthures our ears; and phantasms doth devise,  
To charm our fancies, and besot our reason;  
And make ourselves against ourselves work treason.  
Nor have we in ourselves power to resist  
Her winning wiles, no● from her love desist:  
That power supernal is: O dearest Lord,  
Grant us this power, thy help to us afford:  
Then shall we force thy greatest Foe to yield,  
And make our temptingst sin forsake the field.   

An Epigram on the same.  
THe Devil's a Witch: our Proverb tells us thus;  
But Sin's the Witch that witched both Him and Us.  
Him past all cure: but We may cured be,  
If we by faith can J●sus feel and see.  
Great God assist us, and it shall suffice:  
For we must have from Thee both hands and eyes.   

Pride: the Seed of Sin.  
GReat fall of Men and Angels; Heavens hate;  
Wert thou as good as thou art seeming great,  
Thou wouldst the fairest Virtue be of many:  
But art the most deformed Vice of any.  
Scorn of all good; a bastard mongrel Evil,  
Begot betwixt relapsing Man and Devil;  
Though both (quâ tales) thy own creatures be;  
Begetters of, and yet begot by thee:  
A monstrous spawn of Incest spiritual,  
That Viperlike, hadst life from parents fall:  
And yet thou vauntest, boasting thy birth and blood,  
When no progenitor of thine was good:  
Surpassest in thy self-conceit (by odds)  
Those humbler souls descended from the gods,  
Whose most heroic race, and princely birth,  
Farther transcendeth thine, than heaven doth earth.  
Bold Queen of Vices, thou ledst on the Van  
Of that Black Regiment that foiled Man  
Under God's elbow, by the Prince of Hell,  
Lucifer thy Lieutenant Colonel,  
Under the subtle Serpent's shape disguised,  
Thereby presuming to make man despised  
In his Creator's eyes for evermore;  
Whose Mercy sent his Son to clear that score;  
Who broke the Serpent's head: thy daring skill  
Did legions of sacred Angels fill  
With God-unthroning plots; whereby they fell  
To all eternity, cast down to Hell;  
The glory of thy conquests: yet thy gain  
Appears but small; for they subdued again  
Thee their subduer; and have forced thee since  
To act in service of their direful Prince;  
Who by Self-merit, and Presumption,  
(Thy fatal Daughters) hath more souls drawn on  
In everlasting-fire-chains to be tied,  
Then by all other sins and s●…res beside.  
Mother of Antichrist; thou first settest on  
The founding of Mysterious Babylon:  
The Beast is but thy Creature, and the Whore  
Thy eldest unmached Daughter: I therefore  
A Mate will motion to her, (though a mad one,  
Yet not unfit) it is the great Abaddon;  
Who shortly will to her a Kingdom give,  
Wherein (though dying) she shall ever live:  
For here her time is short, as I compute,  
And will be found so, without all dispute:  
Therefore translate her hence unto the place  
Before all worlds prepared for her was;  
It is her portion; Oh detain it not;  
Do her no wrong, but let her have her lot:  
And then the Lord of Life shall rule again,  
And under him his humble Saints shall reign:  
Amen, Lord Jesus, haste it on: for lo,  
The whole Creation groans to have it so;  
The Angels, Saints and Martyrs cry aloud,  
To have thy vengeance poured on the proud:  
For of all sins that bar poor man from bliss,  
To Them and Thee Pride the most hateful is:  
None doth in Man thy Image more deface;  
Nor any makes us in thy sight so base.  
What Necromantic Philter us hath charmed,  
And both of sense, and reason so disarmed,  
That we should glory in our greatest shame?  
Our Fig-leaf , do but our fall proclaim:  
Was that worth boasting of? Then thy gains scan,  
Proud, prinking, pranking, prating parrot man:  
And brag on, spare not, kneaded lump of clay;  
Thy sealed damnation 'twill at last display;  
Handful of dust coagulate, short span  
Of putried earth; such art thou proudest man:  
Thou vauntest of thy descent, and may'st do't well;  
Never was greater than from heaven to hell:  
Thy pedigree I'll show (I dare aver)  
To be Angelic, from great Lucifer.  
Thy parts, and gifts, of body, and of soul  
Are fair, and comely; but pride makes them foul.  
Thou aim'st at great achievements; buildest high hopes;  
Sand-founded structures; On whose towering tops  
Are batteries raised against the walls of Heaven;  
But all thy Canonshot (of force bereaven)  
Retort from those unpierced edifices  
Upon thy self, and so thy fond devices  
Are self-crushed: And what self not ruinates,  
Death briefly seizeth and annihilates.  
Proud fool; go, rake great Alexander's dust;  
The ashes of those Hero's, whose mere lust  
Their power transformed to law; whose very word  
Made Empires tremble; whose devasting sword  
Made seas of blood; and robbed the lands of breath:  
Divorcing souls from bodies by grim death;  
And see how calm they are, how void of pride,  
As if all Histories had them belied.  
Draw nearer home, and open late-made tombs  
Of thy progenitors, within whose wombs  
Their nigh-corrupted flesh sends forth a stink  
Which thou abhorr'st to smell; yea loathest to think  
How noisome 'tis; And tell, O tell me then  
If there be reason for such pride in men:  
Dost thou their flesh-devested bones there see?  
Such Skeleton be sure thy self shall be;  
If not by providence to worse ordained:  
For worse corruption many have sustained:  
And (truth to say) most proper 'twere for thee,  
Should thy dead corpse by fowls devoured be;  
Who living, in self-thoughts didst soar on high,  
And so (when dead) on others wings shalt fly.  
Pride is Lust's Bawd; Broker to Avarice;  
Mother of Envy, and each hateful Vice;  
Excesses Vintner, Brewer, Cook, and Baker;  
The Soldiers and the Lawyer's Cavil-Maker;  
Ambitious Engineer, Wars shoo-horn: so  
Were't not for Pride, soldiers might barefoot go;  
Who now march booted, to advance the show  
Of her vainglorious, self-conceited Crew;  
Shoemakers, Haberdashers, Jewellers,  
With Lapidaries, Goldsmiths, Pewterers,  
Cutlers, and Armourers, all sorts of Drapers,  
Fencers, and Fiddlers, Dancers cutting capers;  
Those that make Buttons, Bandstrings, Tires, and Borders▪  
Teeth, Eyes, and Periwigs, and mend disorders  
In ugly Faces; with a countless number  
Of other Trades, who us with changes cumber:  
Chameleon Dyers, who by Art do vary  
Their colours to the same that others carry,  
Attend her train; all plague-sick of the Fashion,  
Led on by Tailors (pest of English Nation)  
Whose Proteus-like changing quite out-braves  
In mutability, the Moon and Waves:  
Who Frenchifie our men and women so,  
That who are English we can hardly know;  
Who a new Fashion do affect so well,  
They'll have it, though they knew it came from Hell▪  
Did they the devil in Uncouth Habit spy,  
They'd sue for his Old Suit, to cut New by.  
These are (which I think cannot be denied)  
Gentlemen-Ushers to the Devil and Pride:  
A Litany (to beg deliverance  
From these) were very fit, Here and in France:  
Which two fond Nations they have stultified,  
This last-past Age, more than the world beside;  
Pride would fear banishment, if they should fall:  
Who are supporters of her, Devil and all:  
I think few wise men deem this censure hard;  
If Laws were mended, Tailors would be marred,  
And women made more wise, and poor men too,  
Who now betwixt them both have much to do:  
But sure ere long I hope the time to see,  
When English Laws shall so amended be;  
That pride (the subject now of admiration)  
Shall be scorns subject throughout all the Nation:  
When we shall glory not in gaudy ,  
New-fangled fashions, or in horrid oaths,  
Or spotted faces with like souls within,  
Or hair like those that in a Mill have been,  
Or self-conceited gestures, speech or looks,  
The Devils new devised baits and hooks,  
To catch poor souls: But shall with joint accord  
Glo●y in this, that we do know the Lord,  
And that he is our God, and will us own,  
He knowing us, and being of us known;  
Who will suppress the proud, exalt the meek;  
And than his people shall to Zion seek,  
With joy and peace. Oh haste the time, dear Lord:  
Let thy Church say Amen, with one accord.   

An Epigram on the same.  
HEll-maker, why so high? I style thee well,  
For thou mad'st Devils, and they made God make Hell:  
Apollyon; destruction is thy trade:  
For thou marr'dst man, and man marred all God made.  
Let reason rule the roast; quit thy old score;  
Mend what thou marred haste, or vaunt no more.   

Avarice: the Root of Sin.  
Hunger-starved plenty! what a Monster's here?  
A greedy stomach, pined in midst of cheer;  
Yet wants nor hands, nor mouth, nor teeth to feed;  
With these she tears, devours, grinds those that need:  
Opus and Vsus, (all the means of profit)  
Opus that gets it, makes not Vsus of it.  
This gnawing worm its Mother's entrails rents,  
To line fat bags; nay, it's own spirits spends;  
Endangers soul and body that to gain,  
Which is but kept with fear, when got with pain,  
And never used; joyed in, but not enjoyed:  
At fullest, still complains of being void:  
All put to Use, and yet none Used at all;  
A fine Fools Paradise I may it call:  
Wherein wise worldlings much delight to walk,  
Though to their endless pain: they think, and talk,  
Plot, and project, and waste out day and night,  
In carking care to get, (by wrong, or right,  
Or any means) what gotten, but annoys,  
And is the worst of vanities and toys.  
This greedy Dame made thievish Achan run  
A course that Isr'el had almost undone,  
That brought on him and his, most sad confusion.  
This cursed Caitiff caused the great effusion  
Of Ahabs' Races blood; a numerous crew  
Of Royal Imps, whom furious Jehu slew:  
Then out of pride and greediness to reign,  
Returned to Jeroboam's sin again,  
Who had through Avarice (in time of old)  
Stocked Dan and Bet●el with cursed Calves of gold.  
She made the great Assyrian Monarch plunder  
The sacred Temple, once the world's rare wonder:  
'Twas greediness, not neediness of wealth,  
Provoked that Prince to sacrilegious stealth.  
She 'twas when Christ did preach, that deafness wrought  
In learned Scribes and Pharises, who taught  
The people most exactly, yet were blind  
Themselves the while, through Avarice of mind,  
And seeing could not see, nor hearing hear,  
Those Truths which in their Scriptures written were.  
This hellish Hag betrayed our dearest Lord,  
Made Judas sell him (for a price abhorred)  
Who a self-strangling, and damnation got,  
As Over-plus of purchase for his lot.  
She to the holy Ghost to lie inclined  
Poor Ananias and Sapphira's mind:  
For which on them that fearful Judgement fell  
Of sudden Death, if not of sudden Hell.  
She made wise Simon Magus Sophimore,  
Thinking by Coin (which none but fools adore)  
To purchase that unvaluable Gift  
Of God's most holy Spirit; but his drift  
Was at his Gain, and so he gained hath  
Lasting Reproach, if not e'erlasting Death.  
She wrought the Pythonesses girls masters,  
On Paul and Silas to bring such disasters  
In old Philippi. And at Ephesus  
Diana's Zealot, blind Demetrius,  
To raise an uproar, and an Idol prize  
Beyond the Lord of Life: where were his eyes?  
Not on his goddess, but (his god) his gain:  
For whose sole sake he that hot Zeal did fain.  
This made unhappy Felix leave Paul bound,  
Although no cause of his restraint he found:  
Yet in that passage, Avarice (we see)  
Procured unwonted affability;  
And (since that Scripture is undoubted true)  
I'll instance it, to give the devil his due.  
Leprous Gehezi I could here bring forth,  
And many more examples notice-worth,  
In Histories sacred, and foreign too:  
But that will endless be for me to do;  
It might be for my pleasure, not my gains:  
For sure no miser would requite my pains.  
Covetousness might find me lasting work,  
Should I into her secret corners lurk,  
Survey her bags, and baggage tricks together:  
And yet in my expressions 'bate of either.  
She's prides sworn sister; but that pride's too dear  
Oft-times for her, who still loves to go near;  
She loathes (pride's handmaid) Cost, who makes her smart:  
For none but she and loss do pierce her heart.  
The world, and coin, of all round things she loves,  
And of square deal mostly she approves,  
Save in her self: for there she'll all confound;  
Make that seem square, which others know is round;  
Uneven even, basest wrong seem right;  
Light make of darkness, and bright day of night.  
Her train are Under-Sheriffs, Bailiffs, Brokers,  
Pursivants, keepers, and such men-provokers:  
Their loading is of papers, parchments, waxes;  
Which terrify men more than new-raised taxes:  
These all (like Cannibals) the coast do scour,  
And Devil-like, seek whom they may devour:  
These Anthropophagis are nearest friends  
To avarice, by whom she works her ends:  
Mercy's her wonder: mildness she deems wild;  
And thinks severest justice much too mild.  
If harshest cruelty her gain procure,  
She will baptise it courtesy most pure;  
If not mere charity: she's Satan's bawd;  
And can (like him) by her sublimed fraud  
Assume an Angel's shape, whilst she commits  
Rapes on poor innocents'; and racks her wits,  
Widows and Orphans to devour; her faith  
Is Pharisaic falsehood, which betray'th  
All those that trust her, (though relations near)  
Vicinity's forgot, if gain appear.  
It's she, wise Heathens termed the root of evils,  
Which in no Garden grows, except the Devils;  
Unfit for Christian heart to entertain,  
Or to be lodged in a Converts brain.  
Her heart's the mint of all dcceits: the sink  
Of bloodi'st crimes, that heart of man can think:  
The Devil is chief coiner in this Cell;  
And stamps the Cash to buy him slaves for Hell.  
Her she insinuation screws into  
Corrupted nature, and doth us undo  
Insensibly: her none-such subtleties,  
'Mongst men inveigles mostly the most wise,  
And ablest parted; masters of most reason,  
Before perversion: If a heart she season  
With love of gain, that heart's bewitched quite,  
And ' reft of reason, truth, peace, love, delight;  
Of mercy, conscience, and of all that's good;  
And grudg●th its sole-loved self both  and food:  
Scrapes all it may, from whomsoe'er it can,  
Without respect of friend, foe, God, or man;  
Yet gotten cannot, will not use it: why?  
If you know not, no more doth he, nor I;  
Unless the Devils enchantments so prevail,  
To blind his sense, and make his reason fail:  
For inclinations unto other sins  
Mostly decay in age: but this strength wins,  
And grows with age itself: the elder still  
A miser grows, more griping grow he will:  
A judgement sad; a man should labour most  
For what he least doth need: spend time and cost,  
In that which he must forthwith leave to others,  
And knows not unto whom; & meanwhile smoth●…  
His souls desires of seeking grace; indeed  
That is the gain he most of all doth need.  
Perhaps with Magus he befools himself,  
Hoping to purchase grace with worldly pelf:  
There's no such barter feasible; One grain  
Of grace, exceeds the wealth of earth and main,  
In truest value: God and Mammon prove  
Incompatible masters; whoever love  
One, must despise the other: God loves peace,  
Mammon's contention's Prince: strife cannot cease  
In hearts by him o'erswayed: Treasons and Wars,  
Bloodsheds, oppressions, violence and jars,  
Are his hearts-solace: And all other evils  
Are rife in him, as in the very Devils.  
Lord, fortify our souls by thy free Spirit  
Against this slavish sin, whose justest merit  
Is guerdon of Injustice; for she sways,  
And corrupts Justice, by her bribing ways,  
Throughout the earth: And take this at farewel:  
Though here thou dost, thou shalt not do't in Hell.   

An Epigram on the same.  
Hardhanded Mammon! why dost gripe so fast?  
Thy gain will surely be but small at last:  
Thy muck is ordure; thou art a gold-finder:  
Thy close-fist gripping doth thy holding hinder;  
'Twill squeeze betwixt thy fingers, and be lost,  
Unless thou gape to save it: Oh, haste, post:  
And (lest thy sweet, beloved ware, should fall)  
Hold fast with arms, with hands, teeth, mouth, and all:  
Take, take it all: And then withal take this,  
Thy body's robbed of rest, thy soul of bliss:  
All cannot unto either of them buy  
A moment's ease to all Eternity.   

Lust: A branch of sin.  
GIve leave to venial Sin, the lists to enter;  
She'll soon display the height of your adventure:  
And prove the Whore, that gave her that slight name,  
A lying gossip, though a mincing dame.  
Lust hath both botch and blain of sin's worst pest,  
And therefore mortal is as well's the rest.  
Nay none is so infectious; she strikes dead,  
By glance of eye, by sight of clothes, or bed,  
Of parties not infected; yea, each sense  
She poisons with her flaming pestilence:  
Sight, hearing, smell, taste, touch, and all infect  
(By secret Magic) her enamoured sect:  
A smile, a song, a sent, a cup, a kiss,  
Heart-wounding, and most mortal to them is.  
Yea, (which her venom more admired makes)  
Of pest-free people she the plague oft takes  
At distance vast, (Oh most stupendious wonder!)  
Of parties many hundred miles asunder:  
Their Lust hath sometimes on a picture fired,  
Which shadow made the substance more desired.  
And thus the Jewish Dames did dote (of old)  
When they did Chaldee counterfeits behold.  
Nay, her insinuating Necromancy,  
Works (where's no real Object, on the fancy;  
And stupifying reason, sense and all,  
Makes some in love with mere Ideas fall:  
Whose souls of judgement she hath made so void,  
To joy in that that cannot be enjoyed;  
And Lust contemplative hath so produced  
Incestuous Monsters, 'twixt self-thoughts abused.  
Lust is the Devil's fueller; makes fires,  
And blows into a flame unchaste desires.  
Contriving ever by deceits to win  
Others to be partakers of her sin:  
And mostly (if it end in public shame)  
They each on other strive to lay the blame:  
Which shows in hearts where lust hath got possession,  
A great averseness to a plain confession,  
Which should blaze penitence. This fire obdures,  
And crusts the conscience, where it once inures.  
She's now become one of the chief commanders  
Of the infernal Legions; for her panders  
Are pride, excess, and sloth, yea avarice  
Dotes mostly more on her then any vice,  
If she come cheap: But if the price be high,  
Her flames (at thought thereof) expire, and die.  
Lust, is on earth grown a commandress great,  
Who ere the Crown do wear, she keeps the seat:  
The Throne and Sceptre royal she doth sway;  
And (for the most part) Monarches makes obey.  
Our first that title got of faith's defender,  
Proved herein a notorious faith's offender.  
A King perhaps most Christian may be styled,  
Or Catholic; and yet be so defiled  
With lust's pollution, as to merit scorn  
From Catholics and Christians yet unborn;  
Who will hereafter see with clearer eyes,  
Then this dull age their covert Crimes espies;  
For palaces, and earth's most large possessions,  
Are most depraved by lust, excess, oppressions,  
And such like vices; which have often been  
Lust's bawds, whereby we Saints entrapped have seen.  
For Ammon's sword had spared Uriah's life;  
And he had not been drunk, but that his wife  
Was grown (by lust's enchanting forceries)  
A pearl at once in both poor David's eyes:  
What he abhorred to think, she made him do,  
Blinding his eyes of soul, and body too.  
And his son Amnon by his incest foul,  
Wrought his own drunken death, and wronged his soul;  
Whose fratricidious brother (past all shame)  
Outvied his incest, as a sin too tame  
For such a roister; who in Sol's bright eye,  
Before all Israel (in contempt) did lie  
With his dear Father's Concubines; a fact  
Fit for Devil, then for man to act.  
This sin inveigled had two brothers more  
Of their twelve Patriarches (in times of yore)  
Reuben and Judah, both herewith defiled;  
Wittingly one, but t'other was beguiled.  
Nor could burnt Sodoms cinders terrify  
Heav'n-rescued Lot from lust's Nicanthropy:  
Nor both their judgements afterwards prevent  
The Benjamitish Gibeah's punishment.  
The subtly wicked Prophet Balaam blew  
This coal in israels hearts; so them o'erthrew,  
Whom his enchantments could not hurt at all:  
(Being Devil-proof) and yet by lust did fall.  
Old Eli's sons hereby God's wrath provoked,  
To his Ark's loss, and israels being yoked  
Under Philistims; and their own sad deaths,  
Which robbed one's Wife, both's Father, of their breaths.  
The Preacher, wisest of mere mortals; who  
Knew most of men, knew so much women too,  
That lust infatuated the most wise;  
Wresting his wisdom to Idolatrize.  
So he to whom Jehovah twice appeared,  
To Chemosh, Molech Milcom, Altars reared,  
To Ashtaroth, and all the host of Heaven:  
For which his son was of ten Tribes bereaven;  
Whence jacob's seed dicotomized remain,  
Their kingdom never unified again.  
Herod's base lust, dished up the Baptist's head:  
Lust the Corinthian laid in's father's bed.  
The Gentile's great Apostle she disturbed;  
And could not by his praying thrice be curbed:  
At least not conquered. Since, as well's before,  
She hath been Satan's messenger to more.  
She's both to us, and heathens, (though she mince)  
Leidger Ambassador for Hell's black Prince;  
And Rome's sly Nuntios, (Machiavilians pure)  
Did ne'er attain their errands ends more sure.  
Aegypt's great Cleopatra fair, grown foul  
By lust's pollution, lost both soil, and soul.  
The greater Hercules, whose very name  
Wonder-struck men, was blasted by this flame;  
All whose twelve matchless labours famed persever;  
And yet his fame's eclipsed by lust for ever.  
The greatest Jupiter (by lust o'ercome)  
From God turned beast, and was a bull become:  
True, 'twas a feigned god: But look, and see  
He conquered slaves, who fain would true gods be,  
The Roman Chair-men, whose unchastest flames  
Made their sea burn; and cauterised their names,  
As well as Consciences: When Mentz-born Johan  
Played Fathers Father, till a childbirth groan  
Made her a public mother: Whose cross birth  
Brought forth the hollow chair for gods on earth,  
The Popish touchstone. Sergius the third  
Honour's Marozia's strumpetship, bestirred  
(I might have said bestrid) by many more,  
Then any Popess Minions had before:  
Whose Bastard John, made Incest venial;  
Adultery no crime; which proved his fall.  
Yet Hildebrand, (Anglicè, brand de Hell)  
Must his Matilda have, and more as well  
As her, and she as him: (a hackney Jade  
Refus'th no Rider.) And perhaps that made  
Martin the fourth, so curious of his whore;  
Though Benedict the twelfth's did cost him more.  
Sixtus the Fourth's Tiresia's pearled shoes  
Must be maintained by his maintaining Stews;  
And legalizing Sodomy. And next,  
Nocens preached on upon the carnal text;  
Gets bastards by the dozen; whose void chair  
Sixth Alexander fills; and proves true heir  
Both to his Crowns and vices; who defiled  
His own fair Daughter Lucrece: made his child  
His Anvil to form Prince's horns upon:  
And yet his filth's outvi'd (when he is gone)  
By his successor Julius; who must  
Make Boys turn Maids to satisfy his lust:  
Yet (as if on that name it were a curse)  
He was the second, and the third was worse:  
Whose predecessor Paul (a third man too)  
Did even as much, as man turned devil could do:  
After his panderism, and prostitution  
Of his own sister, and her base pollution  
By his foul incest, in a jealous mood  
Poisons her: And (lest he might be withstood  
In using his own daughter) with like sauce  
Serves he her heedless husband: Natures laws  
Are null to him: Nor can his niece escape  
His boundless lust: But her attempted rape  
Is by her husband's stoutness so prevented,  
As might have made his holiness repent,  
Had he not seared been; whose wound (at least)  
Might well be called the man's mark of the beast,  
Monster of men! whose lust, or hope of gains,  
Forty five thousand courtesans maintains;  
Enough to pox All Italy, and quell  
That Nation's fire of lust with fire of Hell.  
God justly might for this sole Monster's sake,  
Calcine Rome Sodom-like, and Tiber make  
Asphaltis, did not tender mercy stay  
His vengeance, till the neer-approaching day  
Of the great Whores confusion: when at last  
She shall be paid full home for all that's past.  
Rome's Throne outstrips all Thrones on Earth beside  
In whoredom; for it may be verified,  
Popedom & whoredom, (rightly weighed) doomed be  
Inconvertible terms in some degree:  
Rome's the great Whore, Earth's greatest K. the Pope;  
Experience this, and that the Scriptures scope  
Makes manifest to each enlightened eye:  
But Babel's B●a●s in wilful blindness lie;  
Since that false Chair to Pope first Title gave,  
Rome ne'er missed whore; scarce Peter's Chair a knave.  
But soft, my Muse; Rome's lust hath made thee ●ome  
From thy Theme lust: Look to thy lust near home;  
Look to thy heart, lest she surprise thee there;  
She lies in Ambuscado every where:  
At Sermons she is lurking; steals the eye,  
And then the heart: when heavenly Psalmody  
Our souls should ravish, she affects our ear  
With carnal melody of some voice there;  
Poisons our Cordials: her flames, whilst they burn,  
God's Church into the Devil's Chapel turn:  
Her fire spoils all our sacrifices: while  
We pray, or praise, she will our hearts beguile  
With wand'ring thoughts; and taints our duties so,  
That God rejects them: she's a subtle foe,  
And vigilant advantages to take,  
When of devotion greatest shows we make.  
What man can sound her depth? she fools the wise;  
Enfeebles young; and puts out old men's eyes:  
Her baits are laid in every path we tread;  
At Church, at home, abroad, at board, at bed:  
And rarely miss they speeding; Nature's mould  
Is so proclive to their embracement: Cold  
Is not more incident to Ice, than man  
Is to Lust's Ignis Fatuus; nor can  
We well discern her workings on our hearts:  
She doth insinuate by secret arts  
Into our very souls; and captivates  
Us to the law of sin: admits debates,  
Only in order to her conquest on us;  
And leads us blindfold, till she have undone us.  
The eye her window, heart her closet is;  
The head her shop; and all to train from bliss  
Poor self-betraying man. Her trade (of old  
In the world's nonage) still she on doth hold,  
To flock God's sons, and servants; whom she drew  
Men's Daughters fair with lustful hearts to view,  
And mungrellize their seed; the fatal ground  
Of that great deluge, which all mankind drowned,  
Save eight in- Arkt Noachians; and her fires  
Still tempt God's sons on to unchaste desires;  
And will, (till universal judgement flames  
Extinguish hers) to all the kindlers shames,  
If not eternal burn. Lord, we pray,  
Let grace those flames of lust in us allay,  
Man's heart's th' Asbestes: once (by lust) on fire,  
Its flames by nought, but (Gods lambs) blood expire.  
Lave ours therein, Lord, that they quenched may be;  
And all the glory shall redound to thee.   

An Epigram on the same.  
FOndling! what? dote upon a kiss? a smile?  
A glance? a touch? and lose thy soul the while?  
Can Leacheries short titillations please,  
More than eternal death can thee disease?  
There's odds in time and measure, infinite,  
Betwixt thy true disease and false delight.  
Curb then thy lose affections; ponder well:  
Cool thy Lust's flames with thought of flames of Hell;  
With those fierce flames wouldst thou not be anoi'd▪  
With them quench tother's; and both flames avo●…▪   

Intemperancie: another branch of sin.  
ROom for the sink of filth; the paunch of sin;  
Full stuffed with garbage, that extends the skin,  
And racks the entrails, makes the belly swell,  
Like Satan's snap-sack, plund'red out of Hell;  
Or Fortune's Cornucopia, poured in,  
Betwixt a Gormandizers nose and chin,  
And running thence, into his boundless womb  
(Of meat and drink the most unsated tomb:)  
For they whom custom to that sin hath tied,  
Send all that way; whoever starve beside.  
But Oh! the gemmy countenance most bright,  
Exceeds in lustre far the Queen of night:  
With Diamonds and Rubies so beset,  
As if it were great Pluto's Cabinet,  
Or Jewelhouse; and that the Nose had been  
A tiring Room for Proserpina his Queen,  
With high-prized Pearls, inlaid in a Box,  
Resembling symptoms of the Lecher's Pox.  
Intemperancie in the creatures use,  
Doth God, our selves, and other men abuse;  
Beside th'abused creatures; who (though dumb)  
Will us accuse aloud, in time to come.  
This nice-mouthed Dame tempted our grandam Eve,  
To the seducing Serpent ear to give;  
By which fond practice we deprived persever  
Of the sweet fruits of Paradise for ever;  
Save that eternal Paradise to come,  
Since purchased by our Jesus, for our home;  
Whose fruits of glory, that do never waste,  
Are too pure objects for a fleshly taste.  
This sweet-lipped Minion almost quenched the spark  
Of faith in the Diluvian Patriarch;  
Who scaping water-flood (by grace divine)  
Did hazard drowning in a flood of wine.  
This sawce-mouthed Fury made the Jews despise  
Angelic Manna; and the land not prize,  
Which was a type of New Jerusalem,  
Yet promised to undeserving them;  
Who Onions and Garlic rather craved,  
With Egypt's fleshpots, where they were enslaved:  
And which sad Kingdoms thraldom (they knew well)  
Prefigured typically that of Hell;  
But sure, had they returned (as they did wish)  
Their faith, their food, had been nor flesh, nor fish.  
She is amongst the sins of Sodom named,  
Whence fire sulphurous down from heaven flamed:  
And pulverated, in a trice of time,  
The choicest Cities in that pleasant clime:  
Thence, chased by vengeance, fled she to a Cave,  
And tempted heedless Lot to play the knave  
With both his Daughters, so in lust to burn,  
As if those warnings could not serve his turn.  
This longing quean made cursed Esau sell!  
Birthright and blessing, for red broth and hell.  
Thousands of Philistines she once did seize:  
And gave Judge Samson his last Writ of Ease.  
This mal-companion made the Levite play  
The boon-companion, by the hour, and day,  
So long at Bethle'm-Judah, that it cost  
Sixty five thousand soldiers lives (all lost)  
Of Jacob's seed, for this the ground we find,  
That him in Gibeah to lodge inclined;  
Whence a whole tribe of babes and women fell,  
Sacrificed to the sword; yea some to Hell.  
She made the good old Eli's sons profane  
Their sacred Priesthood, by their roast-meat ta'en,  
The fat not offered; for which villainy  
God ruin'd them, and their posterity.  
She made rich Nabal churlish to his friend,  
And his Protector; which became his end;  
And ended had all his, had not his wife  
Sued out their pardon, and composed the strife.  
She wrought incestuous Amnon's drunken death;  
Who drank so deep a draught, he lost his breath:  
For his revengeful brother chose that time,  
To punish that, and his forepassed crime;  
Whose foul revenge, vengeance divine repaid,  
When by his Feast at Hebron he had laid  
A plot of parricide: so feasting cheer  
Sent both the brothers, none but God knows where.  
'twas David's second sin, that him nigh sunk;  
Who (fresh himself) was in Uriah drunk,  
And (thirsty after) took the poor man's blood,  
Who still to him had faithful been and good.  
She lost King Ela's Crown, and life; whereby  
Zimri destroyed the royal family:  
And (though no famed singer) his shrill throat  
Did above Ela sing; a high-strained note.  
When, at Samaria's siege, proud Benhadad  
Thirty two Kings, auxiliaries had;  
Though a most slighted force did them oppose:  
The Pot his Kinglings, him and all overthrows.  
So served she Babylonish Baltazar,  
Who thought himself another god of War:  
And the besiegers (though stout soldiers) slighted,  
Drank drunk the while in scorn, until affrighted  
With Manuscript Divine, he quaked amain,  
And that same night was by the soldiers slain;  
And Babylon, the glory of the world,  
Had her razed walls into Euphrates hurled.  
Nor can I think but drink, and drunken fellows  
(As well as pride) made Haman build those gallows,  
Whereon himself was hanged: for I presume,  
Such feasting, and so much strong drink did fume  
Into his brains, and plots infused, whereby  
It ruin'd him, and his posterity.  
'Twas merely feasting, drink and lust misled  
The Tetrarch, to cut off the Baptist's head;  
Whom he before had loved (at least for fashion)  
One feast provoked him to his decollation.  
Oh if I could but call up Dives here!  
Who day by day, did feast on royal cheer:  
Whose paunch with most delicious wine did swell;  
Yet begged a drop of water for't in Hell;  
And beg it may, yet ne'er obtain the grace,  
To have that comfort in so sad a place:  
Sure he would howl, and roar, and rave, and cry,  
Against this sin, and would us terrify  
With exclamations in dispraise of that,  
Which most in fact commend; but pray for what?  
Truly I know not, saving to bring gains  
To Vintners, Alewives, Drawers, Chamberlains;  
To Tapsters, Brewers, Bakers, Butchers, Cooks,  
And those (who when the plague reigns play the Rooks)  
The Sextons, Bearers, and the Pest-attenders:  
And those (who are to Physic's art pretenders)  
Doctors, Apothecaries, Mountebanks,  
Quacksalvers, Surgeons, and those of their ranks  
That live by our diseases: Politicians  
May sometimes gain thereby; and poor Musicians,  
Anglicè fiddlers, both which make a trade  
To undo any, so themselves be made.  
Clomers and Glass-men likewise reap fair gain,  
When juggs and glasses are in battle slain:  
Yea Scavengers, get no small profit by it:  
And gold-finders, who semi-deifie it:  
'Tis their Diana, much sweet work it finds them,  
And oft of Bacchus and Tabacco minds them,  
Without which they are not, nor can be well,  
Whilst here on earth, whate'er they be in Hell;  
Full paunch, full pate, and then all's well: for this  
Their esse and their bene esse is.  
Oh how perverse is man! On whom the Lord  
Reason conferred hath; yea his pure word,  
That reason to illuminate, and show  
What paths he follow should, and what eschew:  
Precept on precept, for his rule of life,  
And yet the beasts to stray not half so rife,  
Who have but naked sense to be their guide:  
Behold, they in their Maker's rules abide,  
(According to their kind) more strict than we;  
Which (if arightly scanned) we soon may see;  
They have more moderation in the use  
Of creatures gustable, and less abuse  
Those gifts by far then man: for where one beast  
Doth stupefy its sense with drink; at least  
A hundred men, and women too, do so;  
Yea stupefy both sense and reason too:  
If hogs, or such more greedy creatures, hap  
Themselves by too much drinking to entrap,  
They'll mostly be more wary next; but we,  
The oftener drunk, more eager drunk to be;  
And oft when drunkenness our thirst hath bred,  
We by that thirst to drunkenness are led:  
Strange piece of witch craft! reason so to fool,  
To put her back again to sense to school:  
We work against ourselves a kind of treason,  
When sensuality overcometh reason.  
Is reason (fight fancy) foiled by it?  
It shows our want of grace, more than of wit:  
For our in-nate corruption wrought in us  
Our wills, and judgements both preposterous,  
And opposite to Gods most holy will;  
Who never willeth any thing that's ill:  
Nor can we will what's other, unless he  
Assistant to us by his Spirit be.  
Oh! who would think such waywardness should dwell  
In any Creatute, that's on this side Hell?  
Lord, of a truth that place for us is fit,  
Did not thy boundless mercy hinder it.  
Proceed, O God, so to prevent it still;  
And frame us hearts according to thy will,  
Most holy, pure, and clean, void of pollution  
Of flesh or spirit, hating prostitution  
Of us unto our wills impure, wild passions,  
Charming affections, brutish inclinations  
Unto excess and drunkenness, whereby  
We quite deface that prime Divinity  
Thy smage stamped upon our souls of old,  
And take the Devil's impress, of whose fold  
We hereby do profess ourselves, and go  
From our souls faithful shepherd to his foe.  
Whence come Diseases, Fevers, Dropsies, Gouts,  
Consumptions and Catarrhs, yea Pox that mouts  
The feathers of our courtiers coxcombs so  
That they wear borrowed heads, lest they should show  
Their scalded crowns? excess, and drink, prepares  
Their minds and bodies for those torrid wares,  
Which they so dearly pay for, that oft times  
They a bone-ague get to plague their crimes.  
Excess, of sickness-breeders is the King:  
Most, if not all diseases, from her spring:  
Yet cures she none, hunger and thirst excepted;  
Which might by temperance be intercepted,  
With much more thrift to soul and body too,  
As well's estate: excess doth all undo.  
Sardanapalus of great Nimrod's race;  
And Heliogabalus (that glutton base)  
Feel this firm truth confirmed: And many more  
Great Emperors, and Kings lie on the score  
Doomed to eternal hunger, thirst and pain;  
Yea, triple-crowned earth-gods, who erst did reign  
In Babylon mysterious, are (no doubt)  
Where they with their false Keys can ne'er get out.  
Epicurism hath tainted Peter's Chair,  
Most of all thrones on earth: Rome's very air  
Doth stink of surfeits; it therewith infected  
All Christendom, and made that vice neglected.  
But ah poor England! thou hast since out gone  
Thy giddy Mistress, and art passed by none:  
Though Dutch and Dane go far: it's all our shame,  
To be Deformed in Deed, Reformed in Name:  
Reformed Cburches Reformation need,  
In Manners more than Doctrine, if we heed  
How universally this sin doth reign  
'Mongst us; more rare in France, abhorred in Spain.  
The Germans bought Excess at famine's rate,  
Speedy ensuing: Lord, prevent that fate  
From scourging ours; and win our hearts with love,  
Off from the creatures, to the things above:  
Spiritualise our appetites, and then  
Feed us the fullest of all mortal men.  
Indeed, Lord, so thou dost provide us store,  
So great as never Nation had before;  
But we thy Manna loath, as did of old  
Thy people Israel: our stomaches cold  
Are squeazy grown, and turn the bread of life  
To noisome humours; faction, schism, and strife:  
Yea, heresies are bred and fostered by  
Thy means ordained for Truth and Unity.  
Fullness hath wantonized our appetites;  
That one in this, t' other in that delights;  
A third, in none knows what: Yea, oft the Cook  
Makes bad meat liked: the Author's unread Book,  
The Preachers Doctrine, took on trust are prized:  
Most men affect what's vented or devised  
By those of their own faction, however bad:  
Some all for old, some for the new stuff mad:  
That many preachers cook-like strain their wit  
For every coxcombs palate sauce to fit;  
Whilst some like all, some-none: yet all are right  
In their own fancies: darkness so is light.  
Ah, sharpen Lord our souls weak stomaches more  
To truth and unity then heretofore:  
Evacuate those humours gross; afford  
●ls true digestion of thy sacred word;  
That may pure nutriment abroad diffuse  
Into our Church's body, grown profuse;  
Not only stained with fleshly drunkenness,  
And surfeiting, but with soul-giddiness,  
And spiritual intoxication:  
Glutted with food of life. Ah stupid Nation!  
That none but you should strength of wit devote,  
Poison to suck out of your Antidote;  
To make your cordial suffocate your life;  
The curing word of peace, breed kill strife:  
This drunkenness of spirit far exceeds,  
●n its malignity, that which proceeds  
●rom drinks inebriation: that makes men  
●egrade themselves to beasts; and this again  
●romotes them (with the mischief) to be Devils;  
●oth are inflaming, fuming, flatuous evils:  
●otti-fer's spirit giddifies the first,  
●he last the spirit of Lucifer accursed.  
●ord, shield us from them both, but most of all  
●rom that most mortal, which is spiritual  
●inse, Lord, our Nations from that beastial sin  
●f bodily excess, we wallow in:  
●hat we thy blessings temporal may use  
●ith temperance, and never more abuse  
●…ur peerless plenty: Ah! But rinse us too  
●…om drunkenness of soul; which will undo  
Both Church and State, unless thy grace prevent:  
Impow'r us, Lord, of both so to repent,  
And both so to renounce henceforth, that we  
From thy impending Judgements freed may be.   

An Epigram on the same.  
WHat? Man turned Beast? is Reason grown a yoke?  
Tiresome? that thou it sell'st for drink and smoke?  
Are Health, and Knowledge, contemptible both?  
That thou preferrest to them Excess and Sloth?  
Is grace thy scorn? thy body and thy soul  
Neither worth saving? Then continue foul.  
And so foul beast farewel. Soft, here's another:  
Both have one Father, but not both one Mother:  
Satan gets one of Flesh, t'other of Spirit;  
The lasts his darling (though both shall inherit  
His dismal Kingdom) he doth her affect,  
As his choice sieve to sift the Lords Elect:  
She best resembles him, though both are evil;  
The first's a Beast, the lasts a perfect Devil.   

Presumption: one of sins tops.  
MAke room for Rome's great sovereign; who hath wor●  
The triple-crown e'er since 'twas made: whose hor●  
Pushes at Stars, and shakes the Host of Heaven,  
(At least those seeming so:) whose hand hath given  
More fatal wounds to self deluding souls,  
Then there are Stars betwixt the world's two Poles.  
Presumption's Highness, who loves room so well,  
She takes up most part of the room in Hell  
For her attendants, whom she rocks asleep  
With songs of heaven, till they approach that deep,  
And vast Abyss, whence none was ever freed:  
Such dangers from security proceed.  
Presumption flatters mankind to damnation,  
With false Plerophory of their salvation:  
And so they run, relying on dead faith,  
Hand over head, unto eternal death.  
Perfidious Traitor! thou hast Myriad slain,  
Who deemed their state secure, till in that pain  
That hath nor ease, nor end, they plagued were,  
And saw that thy seducements brought them there.  
Thou hadst a hand in Man's and Angel's falls:  
Thou didst of old first found proud Babe's walls;  
Which brought on Adam's progeny confusion,  
And (probably) was cause of the effusion  
Of all the blood that hath in war been spilt  
In all the ages since: (O horrid guilt!)  
For change of tongues to change of hearts inclined;  
Had they one Tongue kept, so they might one Mind.  
She martial'd Egypt's people and their King,  
Themselves away in the Red Sea to fling:  
Who (having tried God's wonders oft before)  
Would (madly) needs provoke him to one more;  
Whereby sad extirpation them befell,  
Whose souls the sea did waft from earth to hell.  
She stoned the great Goliath, whilst he braves;  
And makes the Philistines to Isr'el slaves.  
Most likely 'tis, the wisest Solomon  
Was trained to sin by foul Presumption,  
As well as by strange women: for a man  
Of his great knowledge and experience, can  
Hardly great sin commit, or grace withstand,  
Unless Presumption have therein a hand:  
Next, his son Rehoboam ten Tribes lost,  
By this proud Dames provoking him to boast.  
Vaunting Sennacherib, th' Assyrian King,  
Played blasphemies upon thy untuned string,  
To humble Hezekiah's loathing ears,  
Till he retreated, filled with shame, and fears:  
When sudden vengeance from his camp had call'n  
A hundred fourscore and five thousand, fallen:  
And afterwards (to his eternal pain)  
In Idol-worship, by his sons was slain.  
The greater Nebucadnezar presumes  
To make new gods: the old gods right assumes  
Unto himself: boasting great Babylon  
Built by his wit and power: mad thereupon,  
Is forthwith doomed among the beasts to live,  
Till he do honour to Jehovah give.  
The young man in the gospel, whom Christ loved,  
Thought he had done, whatever him behoved,  
Fulfilled God's Laws: yet was his case most foul,  
Who loved his riches better than his soul.  
The bragging Pharisce conceived no less  
Of his proud self: yea, did so much express;  
Yet his hypocrisy so great we see,  
The Publican was judged more just than he.  
Presumption magnifies our merits in  
Our own bleared eyes, and puffs up self within:  
Begets low thoughts of others, who exceed  
Us in sincerity: it (ere we heed)  
Breeds blind opinion of our happy state,  
Till she hath brought us home to Hell's black gate;  
Then we discover (what we thought not on)  
Our high-prized faith, but false presumption:  
And oh! what horror will it cause, to see  
(Too late) in what a sad estate we be?  
She charms and stupifies our senses so,  
That in what case we are, we scarcely know,  
Till we withal know, that inevitable  
Our danger is, and irremediable.  
She us inveigles (as she did of old  
Laodicea's Church, nor hot, nor cold,  
Of lukewarm temper) senslesly to vaunt  
Of riches, goods increase, and nothings want;  
Whilst she was wretched, miserable, poor,  
Naked and blind; though he knocked at the door  
Well nigh prepared to spew her out his mouth,  
Who no such temper in his Bride allow'th.  
This is Goliah's ghost: sent forth by him,  
Who● is Hell's Prince, the spiritual Philistim:  
He by presumption dares God's sacred host;  
Who of her great achievements well may boast:  
By whom bright Stars have fallen, and falling be:  
(Stars in our eyes, though not in God's decree;)  
For Comets greater seem to judgmen●… rude,  
Then fixed Stars of vaster magnitude.  
Presumptio●s potions soporiferous,  
A sad soul-apoplexy cause in us;  
Which, whilst we think we draw securest breath,  
Lulls us asleep into eternal death:  
She makes Hell's flames, which near shall quench or die,  
The first dark light we see our errors by.  
Accursed deluder! thou dost never cease,  
With Syren's songs, and lullabies of peace,  
With promises of blisses sweet fruition,  
To train men unawares into perdition:  
Thou drawest a curtain 'twixt us and the face  
Of divine justice; that we may not place  
Our eyes on her, lest she should scare from sin,  
Or make us question what way we are in:  
Thou unvail'st mercy's picture, falsely painted,  
With shameless sinners round about besainted;  
Therein profan'●… her nature and her name:  
She saves but sinners who of sin take shame.  
With many more such cheats to sin thou winnest;  
Crocodiles tears sometimes perhaps thou whinest:  
For commonly, on false repentance, follow  
Presumptio●s counterfeits of faith; which hollow  
The whole work● of poor man's conversion;  
And cause from God's ways more a version.  
Dear Lord! How subtle is this foe of ours?  
We cannot her oppose without thy powers,  
And fresh supplies: sincere humility  
Is the chief Engineer, that can descry  
Her plots, and storm her works: a faith well grounded,  
The Cannon shot, whereby she is confounded.  
Lord, grant us both, and then full safe are we;  
And from presumptuous sin, Lord keep us free.   

An Epigram on the same.  
Enchanting Circe! sure thy slights are odd:  
Thou Angels Devils mad'st, the Pope a god:  
Them thou didst fool with hopes they gods should be▪  
Him thou mad'st god, a Devil most men see.  
I question which was greatest of the evils,  
Thy making him a God, or else them Devils?  
It matters not for present: we shall see,  
When both thy gods and Devils together be.   

Desperation: sins other top.  
HEll upon earth! thy ghastly look affrights,  
Beyond the visage of infernal sprights:  
It strikes more terror in a wounded soul,  
Then all Hell's Devils can: Thou dost control  
Faith, hope, and charity, at once in us:  
Thou wound'st, and killest them all; and dost win us  
Self-condemnation, still to harp upon;  
As if our sins could heavens God unthrone;  
Transcend his mercies, or surpass his grace;  
Or we could do, what he cannot deface.  
Thou whisperest horrid treason in the ears  
Of our disturbed souls; distract'st with fears  
Of a defect of morcy in that God,  
In whom defect can never have abode;  
Who is all mercy, although infinite,  
And makes sweet mercies works, his chief delight.  
Thou sowr'st our sweetest joys; foulest our most fair,  
And spondent hopes: thy breath's envenomed air  
Blasts worse than lightning: thy loud voices thunder  
Out-roars those cracks that rend the clouds asunder.  
This grim-faced fury is Hell's Charioteer,  
Who drives on headlong, souls that once draw near;  
She force most violent upon them lay'th,  
When they have true remorse, and want but faith,  
In order to salvation. She extends  
Sin's too vast body, to destructive ends.  
She maims faith's hands, and puts out both her eyes:  
She makes us fond proffered grace despise.  
She lies in ambush, in the darkest nook  
Of light's blest path: and oft hath slily took  
Dejected souls at penitence lane-end,  
Preparing to lay hold upon their friend,  
The Lord of life by faith: when they are tired  
With trotting sins rough ring, and deeply mired  
In their own filth, she whips and spurs them on  
Into the boundless deeps: who (left alone)  
Might sue forth pardon; and the grace obtain  
Of being by faith's hand relieved again:  
And so her wiles deserted souls do win,  
To turn sin-sorrow's sacred self to sin.  
She ruin'd earth's great Heir apparent, Cain,  
When he had juster Abel basely slain:  
She barred him this world's joy; and (oh sad doom)  
Deprived him of the joys of that to come.  
She foiled the faithful Abraham's Heir's first born;  
Who lost a double birthright for a scorn:  
Yea lost his blessing too; though (grown more wise)  
In vain he sought it with distilling eyes.  
She wrought upon the Isra'lites first King,  
Witchcraft to use, after abandoning  
That direful art: and then provoked him further,  
With his own hands his loathed self to murder.  
She forced the traitor Judas, who had sold  
His Master, (the great Shepherd of God's fold)  
To hang himself, his conscience to appease;  
To haste from Earth, to seek in Hell for ease:  
Where if he found it, none was found before:  
Nor found shall be thenceforth for evermore.  
After his sad revolt from sacred truth,  
Mark but how eagerly this Fiend pursueth  
Apostate Julian; who despairing, cried,  
Vicisti Galilaee; and so died.  
Great Bajazet, the Turkish Emperor,  
Brained his proud self, incensed by thy power.  
And our third Richard, England's quondam King  
(By usurpation) wilfully did fling  
Himself away at Bosworth: twice o'ercome,  
By foes in field, and by despair at home.  
But what need I historic Cinders rake,  
Examples to produce? whereas they spoke  
But sparingly of men's despair for sin;  
One well known modern pattern sure had been  
Proof strong enough of desperation's force,  
Poor Francis Spira (man ne'er heard a worse:)  
Who (by seducing wiles of Antichrist)  
Was drawn t'apostatize from real Christ;  
Whenceforth he ne'er felt comfort more on earth,  
But had a Hell within him; cursed his birth,  
Roared, howled, and cried, and died in deep despair;  
Although he had good men's advice and prayer.  
Despair's a Politician: whose black Art,  
Makes man upon himself act Satan's part;  
Accuse, condemn, torment, repel free grace,  
Refuse to give his proffered pardon place;  
Tempt to the highest sin: and then to tell  
His sadded soul, No place for thee but Hell:  
And so when man the Devil's work hath done,  
He pays him wages, who desired none.  
The Poets Momus she outstrips in spite,  
Who hated others for his own delight:  
She hates both God and Man, Angels, and Devil,  
And herself too: yea all, both good and evil,  
Save her despairing humour, which alone  
She cherishes, and strives to dote upon;  
And (to her everlasting torment) feeds  
The gnawing worm, that in her conscience breeds:  
She's sick to death, yet will no cordial take;  
Casts off all physic, which her pains might slake:  
Her wound is deep, and cure she doth desire,  
Yet throws her plasters all into the fire.  
A spirit frenzified within her reigns;  
She ease desires, yet needs will keep her pains.  
Merciful Lord, defend us from afflictions,  
Wherein are manifest such contradictions:  
Assist us with thy grace to persevere  
Unto the end; and then we need not fear  
O'erwhelming in this deep abyss, wherein  
So many heav'n-bound vessels sunk have been.  
Strengthen our faith: against despair uphold  
Our feeble souls; and bring them to thy fold.   

An Epigram on despair.  
DEspair avaunt; eternal death attends  
Thy very touch; Hell's at thy finger's ends.  
The Cockatrice's optic poison's's weak,  
Asps tactick venom slight, to thine: thou'lt break  
Hearts all in shivers by a single thought:  
Yea, murder souls too: though most dearly bought  
By God-man's blood; thou makest men spill the price,  
And slight their mercies, by thy rash advice.  
Lord, grant a better Counsellor to me;  
For sure such Counsellor deserves not Fee.   

On Presumption and Despair.  
OLd Poets all mistake, who all agree  
In one to make the fatal Sisters three:  
Its one too many, for but two they are;  
But two more fatal than their three, by far.  
Daring Presumption (that her cheats may pass)  
Puts Mercy in a multiplying-glass,  
So magnifies her past proportioned measure:  
Makes her a Patroness for lust and pleasure.  
Whilst Cowardly Despair (to dim her worth)  
Peeps through a Perspective, whose wrong end's forth;  
Which lessening glass, when mercy through it viewed,  
Semi-annihilates her magnitude.  
They oft change glasses; and Despair puts sin  
Into Presumptions glass: whilst she again  
Views Justice through Despairs false Perspective:  
Which makes them both erroneous judgement give.  
A cure for both I'll briefly thus devise:  
Let both their glasses break, and trust their eyes:  
Presumption, stoop to Penitence; Despair.  
Arise to Faith; 'twill make their ways both fair:  
So shall Despair true Penitence become:  
Presumption saving Faith to bring us home.  
For one is still too low, t'other too high:  
Neither will let us unto God draw nigh.   

Repentance.  
DRop on, sweet lymbeck-eyes, till you dist●l  
Those high-prized waters, that God's bottle fill.  
Drop, spare not: this the richest water is  
That Earth affords; and Heaven hath none of this,  
Save in God's handkerchief, those tears ●…ip'd off  
Their glorified cheeks, whom earth did scoff;  
Water of life it is, if truly made.  
Oh that the avaricious world would trade  
For this rich ware! one drop whereof outvies  
East, and West-Indies (bought at highest price)  
In its true worth; add to it (for 'twill need)  
As much faith as a grain of mustardseed:  
This composition valued is most high,  
In the esteem of Jove's great majesty;  
'Tis worth more worlds than heaven hath stars, shore sands,  
Sea drops, or single blades of grass earth's lands.  
Stream on, pure fountains; with your hyssop water,  
Your nitred springs, my sin-stained soul bespatter;  
Sope-lave it in your pearly rills, that fall  
From sorrow's source: but still have care to call  
For Lamb's blood intermixed by faith, which brings  
True virtue to your mundifying springs:  
It cleanseth all the stains in nature left;  
And those we added since our Parent's theft.  
Blow on, serenest sighing wind, and calm  
My stormed conscience; and abate the qualm  
That seiz'th my wounded spirit: clear the air:  
Dispel the clouds with gusts of zealous prayer,  
Which force  heaven, and commit a rape  
Upon th'almighty's ears: we shall escape,  
How fierce soever our assault be made.  
Thou art the wind drives all who heav'nward trade:  
By thee they must un-anchor, and set forth;  
Or else their voyage will be little worth.  
Fill up our sails; for we shall find rich ware,  
That hidden lies beyond the fixed sphere:  
Yet blow as faith may steer aright: know well,  
Who sail by heaven, pass near the gates of Hell:  
'Twixt Scylla and Charybdis we must pass;  
Presumption and despair: and these (alas)  
Are full of danger: one's a floating Rock;  
Tother'sothers a gulf shifting (like weathercock)  
Its place with each ne●… wind: On.; if we stay,  
They'll both most surely cross us in the way;  
And for the most part, he that one doth fly,  
Is shipwrecked on the other instantly.  
Whiff not with boisterous blasts into the deep;  
Let thy gales us in fathomed shallows keep:  
Blow well to Leeward: though a Rock appear,  
'Tis Christ the Cape of our good Hope; no fear:  
For never vessel which that Rock did miss,  
Arrived at the wished Port of bliss.  
Nay, more; unless that Rock we hang upon,  
Our vessel's split; and we are all undone:  
Oh, see where it appeareth; yond before:  
Haste on; I'm sea-sick, put me there ashore:  
The floating Rock, and shifting gulf I see  
Approaching near: they both in kenning be.  
Blow strong; bear in: on that Rock run aground:  
Strike sail: cast Anchor, for our Port is found:  
If that firm Rock do make the Anchor bend,  
Hope's Anchor steel with faith at either end.  
She with one finger (if we Anchors want)  
Can mo●e us on a Rock of Adamant:  
Such is the Rock, on which we must depend,  
That thee (my soul) from shipwreck must defend:  
An Adamantine Rock, whose virtue lay'th  
Magnetic force, on all that's steeled by faith.  
Help sighs (sad heart;) my d●…ie eyes help tears;  
Such wind and water, souls on this Rock bears:  
To steel Hope well with steadfast faith endeavour;  
Then shall we Anchor on it safe for ever.   

Epigram on Repentance.  
BLow wind; drop rain; Repentance much endears  
Our souls to God: such music charms his ears:  
Let faith hold fast, and then full safe are we:  
These sisters are, and must not parted be,  
Both of one birth: most strange intwined twins!  
Where the first ends, mostly the last gins;  
Which should be elder, great Divines do doubt:  
But we'll not sift such needless scruples out.  
God grant us both in truth of soul and mind;  
And which is first, we need not pry to find.   

Faith.  
STrongest of creatures! whose eternal Base  
Is firmer fixed than earth's foundation was:  
Whose everlasting force none can withstand:  
Surviving change in Heaven, Hell, Sea and Land.  
By thee the Elders good report did take:  
Thou teachest us Gods Word the world did make:  
By faith meek Abel offered sacrifice  
More excellent, and pleasing in God's eyes  
Then Cain's, his elder brother. Enoch's faith  
Caused his translation, that he saw not death:  
By faith did Noah (warned) the Ark prepare,  
Wherein he and his household saved were.  
By faith the faithful's father Ur forsook,  
And to an unknown place himself betook:  
By faith he and his seed did sojourn there;  
In a strange land their Tabernacles were:  
By faith old Sarah Issue did receive,  
And quite past age had strength seed to conceive:  
By faith tried Abram, Isaac offered,  
Accounting God could raise him from the dead:  
That Isaac blessed his two sons hereby:  
And Jacob Joseph's sons, when he did die.  
By faith departing Joseph mention made  
That Isr'el out of Egypt should evade.  
By faith was newborn Moses three months hid;  
And when he came to years, refuse he did  
The Title of King Pharao's daughter 's son;  
And rather chose to bear affliction  
With God's poor Israel, than (for a season)  
Sin's pleasure to enjoy; faith was his reason:  
Hereby he Egypt left, Passover kept,  
And sprinkling blood, lest he should them have swept,  
Who the firstborn destroyed: By this they post  
Through Red-Sea dry-shod; while th' Egyptian Host  
The like assaying, were overwhelmed all.  
By Faith the Walls of Jericho did fall;  
And Rahab saved was. But should I tell  
Of Gideon, Barak, Samson, Samuel,  
Jephta, and David; of the Prophets all,;  
Whom faith to do, or suffer forth did call:  
Whose faith wrought righteousness; Kingdoms subdued,  
Obtained promises; and stopped the rude  
And savage Lion's mouths; and quenched fierce fire;  
Escaped the sword; made weakness to aspire  
To be most strong; waxed valiant in fight,  
And turned Aliens Armies all to flight:  
How women have their dead revived received;  
And others tortured, would not be relieved;  
With the unnumbered wonders faith hath wrought,  
Unparallelled, and passing humane thought:  
Time would me fail; for no tongue can express  
Faith's famous miracles (were they much less)  
Whose all-subduing power none can resist:  
She makes th'Almighty God do what she list:  
For if faith as a grain of mustardseed,  
Can Mountains move (as in truth's word we read)  
None can imagine any thing is hard  
To a firm faith from sinful doubt debarred.  
Faith is the clew, that (in earth's pilgrimage)  
Convey's the Lord's elected heritage  
Through the world's labyrinth, and brings them home  
Unto the King of glory's presence-room.  
She is the souls perspective glass, whereby  
She spies what friends or foes in kenning lie:  
If Pirates cross us, or we victual want,  
Faith's both our ammunition, and provant:  
She is the wind that drives: the needle, card,  
And Pilot that directs: she is our guard;  
Nay, she's our Sun by day, our Moon by night,  
Our Star that brings us to our Saviour's sight;  
Next whom, she's all in all, to those that sail  
For Bliss-port; and without her, all must sail.   

Epigram on Faith.  
MY soul, thou'rt bliss-ward bound: make faith thy friend,  
Eternal bliss is at her finger's end;  
He that the same bestows, is in her eye,  
Who'll cease to be, as soon as her deny.  
Stupendious wonder! God should stoop so low,  
As to be creature-ruled! yet I will show  
True reason for't: and (briefly) that is this:  
It is his will, whose will true reason is.   

Hope.  
FIrm Anchor of our souls! that moar'st them fast  
Unto the sacred Rock; when thou art cast,  
On what side ere thou fallest thou hold fast tak'st,  
And in that adamant impression makest:  
When our weak faith's Sunbeams eclipsed are,  
We sail by thee alone, our only Star;  
In those dark obfuscations, which sometimes  
Becloud the best, at sight of their high crimes:  
Which interpose a foggy mist between  
Our faith's dimmed eyes, and Christ: and like a screen,  
Repel the light and heat that should proceed  
From his bright Rays unto our souls in need:  
Then thou our Pilot ready art at hand,  
When we are tossed in deeps, to drive to land.  
Thou art the Master's Mate (though faith be chief)  
And in her absent actings yield'st relief;  
When she's asleep, or else unactive grown;  
And we upon the quicksands well-nigh thrown;  
Thou bring'st assistance, with thy gentle gale,  
That we a while may with a by-wind sail;  
Till faith do re-enliven, and recover,  
Until her soporif'rous fit be over.  
When she awakes, and wash'th her spethomed eyes  
In Penitences laver, thou dost rise,  
And secure her enfeebled arm and hand,  
Deprived of their late holdfast: thou dost stand,  
And her support; who (if thou wert not nigh)  
Would languish in those fainting fits, and die.  
When Faith is mired in pudly sink of sin,  
And tired quite, thou wadest through thick and thin,  
To draw her out: rub'st her benumbed limbs,  
Till by regained agility she climbs,  
And towers aloft, and tramples down her foes;  
And conquers all the powers that her oppose.  
In sad desertions, when the wounded soul  
Study's by art to make her fair parts foul,  
Hope gently wipes her spots, and rins'th her eyes,  
That she may clearer view the mysteries  
Of love Divine; and not despair to cry  
For mercy, which she else would do, and die.  
Hope in our souls a kind of being gains,  
Ere saving Faith can act; and this restrains  
New Faith from failing: whence she termed may be,  
Her elder grace, without absurdity:  
And though Plerophory (which some attain)  
Seem hope needless to make, when that they gain;  
She's needful still, and fades not till fruition  
Of what is hoped; then shall blessed vision  
Withal determine faith, when she shall see  
What she believed, and thence both useless be;  
When doubts and fears which hear them both annoyed  
●hall be discussed and quelled by bliss enjoyed;  
●in's sting envenomed quite extracted be:  
And death be swallowed up in victory;  
Then necessary uselessness attends  
Them both, when they have both attained their ends.  
●aith, Hope, and Charity, may well be called  
● Christian's tria Omnia, and installed,  
●he Princesses of other gifts, and graces  
●nd, in Christ's Church, rightly supply the places  
●o Sulphur, Salt and Mercury, allotted  
●… nature's schools, by those whom Art besotted:  
●he three chief corner-stones in Sion's wall;  
remove but these, and you will ruin all:  
●ea, rob a man of hope, faith soon will die;  
●nd so will everlasting Charity.  
● hope surcease, soon by degrees expire;  
●…r hope of all the three keep in the fire:  
●…e gains them life and heat, and them inflames  
●ith Zeal Divine: the surging waves she tames  
●hich in the storms of passions, or affections,  
●f spiritual or temporal afflictions,  
●nd perturbations, them would overwhelm,  
●…d she not steer their course, and sit at Helm.  
● sacred hope! steer on our course aright,  
●…rough this dark vale of tears, in darkest night,  
whilst faith is hoodwinked, Charity inchilled,  
●… other graces dead, thou only skilled  
●… give sight, heat, and life unto them all;  
●…lp (hope) at need, (dear God) or else we fall:  
Who dying, we shall live, thy face to see,  
And to enjoy and be enjoyed by thee.   

Epigram on Hope.  
WEak faith's chief crutch; deserted soul's sole prop;  
Charity's warming-pan; all this is Hope:  
Fear's Antidote, the Proto-pharmacon  
Of grim despair; or else sure there is none;  
Doubts prime discusser; who doth her arraign  
At mercy's bar, where she by faith is slain.  
Hope's Jacobs ladder, which doth pierce the Sky,  
Whereby enfeebled faith may mount on high,  
Strength to renew, and act more lively on  
In order to the souls salvation:  
She is the constantest grace that can be named  
To stead us here, and never makes ashamed.   

Charity.  
SWeet cement of the Bridegroom's sweetest Bride,  
Whereby her distant parts are unified:  
Strong Ligament of love, that linkest fast  
Her dislocated joynts! thy very taste  
Is full of Heaven: and thy corruscant face  
Transcends the Cherubims: and every grace  
(However good and great) is without thee.  
Like a dead corpse, whose limbs unfouled be.  
Miracle-working faith is void and vain,  
Unless the soul thee likewise entertain;  
And God-compelling prayer's an empty blast,  
Where thou art absent, and shall off be cast.  
When thou unit'st, no distance earth affords,  
That can divide their hearts that are the Lords.  
Thou joyn'st the members militant of Christ  
All in one body, and so joined, tie'st  
Them in firm union with the rest above  
Who are triumphant: so that all by love  
Joy the same joy, think the same thoughts, and pray  
The self same prayers in heart: both we and they  
In Spirit now are one; and so shall we  
One body mystical hereafter be:  
Though now this flesh polluted taint our prayers,  
Our thoughts, and joys; whence ours come short of theirs  
In actual perfection; soul-desire  
Wings our Intentionalls as high to spire  
As theirs enthroned: though we imprisoned lie,  
And unreleasable until we die.  
But then, eternal love shall work alone,  
When Hopes fruition and faith's vision  
Shall them determine in immortal glory,  
And they be needless, as these transitory,  
Unsatisfying, sublunary joys  
We dote on here, (the quintessence of ●oys.)  
Divinest love was privy counsellor  
When God elected us: and she passed o'er  
His six days labour with delight, when he  
Created us, and what for us sh●ld be.  
All these love's wonders pass our admiration:  
But oh! when we relapsed, our renovation  
By a redeeming Jesus, makes us see  
Much more than love, if more than love can be:  
Yet sure 'twas love alone procured that bliss;  
But such a love as near was love like this.  
Love is the glue, that holds so long together  
heavens goodly frame, and all that is beneath her:  
For (did not she prevent it) our least sin  
Would ruin us, the world, and all therein;  
And tumble all the creatures down pellmell  
Into the lowest, worst of creatures, Hell.  
Ah sacred Charity! what tongue can raise  
A Trophy fitting thy deserved praise?  
The Cherubims and Seraphims, that be  
Most glorious creatures, stand amazed at thee;  
Thy lustre dazzles them: their pure eyes fail,  
To view thy purer face without a vail:  
And none but three in one, and one in three,  
Hath power with fixed eyes to look on thee:  
I'm sure thou blindst my muse; for she is flown  
A flight beyond what common sense will own;  
And now she's at her pitch, must re-decline  
To Christians Charity, from love divine.  
Charity suffers long, and kind she is;  
She envies not, nor vaunts herself amiss:  
She is not puffed up; nor doth behave  
Herself unseemly; nor her own doth crave:  
She is not soon provoked: thinks no ill;  
Nor in iniquity rejoice she will,  
But in the truth; she beareth all things too;  
All things believes; and her hopes all things woe.  
And she all things endures; she'll never fail,  
When prophecies and tongues shall nought avail,  
And knowledge quite shall vanish: for all these  
Are but in part, and consequently cease,  
When our prefection comes: but Charity  
Remains entire to all eternity.  
This sacred writ records of her perfection;  
A testimony that should win affection,  
As will as credit. Sure (were man not blind  
With pride, and envy, and too much inclined  
To base self-love) sheep of our shepherd's fold,  
Would never let their Charity grow cold  
As many do in this sad age; who by  
A false-fired Zeal, extinguish Charity.  
Had we hearts to let Charity work in us,  
She from our schisms and factions so would win us,  
(Which now nigh prove what we have erst heard told,  
Quot homines, sententiae to●, of old:)  
As to unanimate both Church and State;  
Which both are grown inanimate through hate,  
And interchanged jealousies, that neither  
Can well endure, what's good for both or either:  
And God would soon foundations settle here  
Of that blessed government, which shall appear  
Ere long in all opposers spite; and last  
When all Dominions else shall down be cast:  
And shall in perfect peace all sceptres sway  
In earth's vast round, and all shall it obey;  
When Jews shall called be, (as Scriptures told)  
And with the Gentiles fullness make one fold;  
And have one faithful shepherd o'er them all,  
Melchisedeck, whom we Christ Jesus call.  
Lord, reunite our hearts in love, that thou  
May'st perfect that great work, and all may bow  
Before thy throne, when thou in peace shalt reign  
Through Heaven and earth, & through the sea & main.   

Epigram on Charity.  
SHall I by rules of convertibles pry  
Into a secret, and not soar too high?  
If God, be love; love, God: then Charity  
Is elder sister to eternity:  
Or rather morher; as is plain to see,  
If one Creator, t'other creature be.  
These theo-critical conceits may enter  
Into thy thoughts (my muse) but do not venture  
To scan them far; lest thou shouldst lose thereby  
The god of love, the love of god, and die.  
Weak-winged ●ouls, wh●… stormy winds do roar,  
Flutter below, dare not a loft to soar.  
Forbear poor flea to wade within the brim  
Of that abyss, where Elephants must swim.   

PATIENCE.  

1.  
VIctorious Queen! that foyl'st all Potentates  
That dare assail thee:  
By thee prevail we;  
When Faith and Hope are non-plused by cross fates,  
Thou canst them both recover;  
And keep us that we give not over;  
Nor yield the day before the field be won:  
Were't not for thee, poor Christians were undone.   

2.  
In persecution thou the Cordial art,  
That our hearts easest,  
And us releasest  
From passions, that would else breed endless smart:  
Thou makest our burden lighter;  
Though thou disclaimest to be a fighter,  
No Christian Champion ever won the field,  
Where thy tried valour forced not foes to yield.   

3.  
Our God-man general by thee overcame  
Earth and Hell's crosses:  
And salved our losses;  
Whose Patience unparallelled became.  
She was the primest feather  
In his triumphant plume: And either  
She in our Helmets must be worn; or foes  
Will win the day, and we the prize shall lose.   

4.  
She from the manger to the garden cheered  
Our dearest Saviour:  
Whose meek behaviour  
Astonished men; and his Condemner feared.  
Gethsemane, nigh tiring,  
With blood-sweat passion, fear inspiring:  
When God and Man were both nigh at a loss,  
She cheers to Golgotha, and climbs the Cross.    

Epigram on Patience.  
AS Palmtree pressed, or Plantine trod, best grows;  
So Patience, by sufferings, foes overthrows.   

To LIFE.  

1.  
LIfe! thou dost flatter, and betray  
My heedless soul to sin to day,  
On thee presuming,  
And hopes assuming  
Of penitence hereafter:  
And so thou leadest me sheep-like to the slaughter.   

2.  
Thou in thy warfare careless art,  
Though Death hath got Letters of Mart,  
Soon to surprise thee,  
Where-e'er he spies thee:  
A foe that will not trifle,  
But surely speed: and will thee shortly rifle.   

3.  
Why shouldst thou faithless to me be?  
'Tis to thyself as well as me:  
Cease then to flatter,  
And thy baits scatter,  
To hook my foolish fancy:  
For thy allurements work like necromancy.   

4.  
'Tis a black Art, and dark thou hast,  
Who danger vail'st till time is passed  
Of it preventing,  
And makest repenting  
Late, unavailing to us;  
And by thy Syren's songs dost quite undo us.   

5.  
We silly mortals quite mistake,  
When thee for our chief friend we take:  
Death is more friendly,  
And deals more kindly,  
Who summons us to heaven:  
When thou wouldst keep us here, of joy bereven.   

6.  
Nature on thee doth too much dote,  
Whose humour 'tis to love by rote;  
(Whilst reason's blinded,  
And sense most minded,)  
Our souls by thee are lulled  
Secure asleep; and of salvation gulled.    

To DEATH.  

1.  
DEath, how do sinners thee abuse,  
Who thee most grim to portray use?  
They quite mistake thee,  
Who ugly make thee:  
Thou to the good art comely;  
Though worldlings deem thy presence course and homely.   

2.  
Thou art out Moses, who dost show  
Our way from Egypt, here below:  
To Can'an's glory.  
Thou dost us hurry  
From this world's daily sorrows.  
To joys eternal, where to day wants morrows.   

3.  
It is thy father makes thee grim:  
Thou lovely art, wert not for him.  
He dwells within us,  
And he doth win us  
To hate thee without thy desert;  
Thy Father's sin, and thou his wages art.   

4.  
A father strange; that hates his child,  
And wages too (you'd deem him wild,  
As we count wildness:)  
For death's sweet mildness  
Is shown still to the holly;  
Sin's their chief foe, and counts their goodness folly.   

5.  
Death is God's H●…, who calls away  
His servants to receive their pay:  
But to his debtors  
And their abertors  
His under-Sheriff cruel;  
Who them imprisons where flame● ne'er want● fuel.   

6.  
Death lays our bodies here asleep,  
Whilst festivals our souls shall keep,  
Till our exciting,  
And reuniting  
In joys passing all beneath:  
Ah fit me Lord for thee, and welcome death.    

The Resurrection.  
DRead Lord! what harmony my soul doth find  
In all the wondrous works by thee designed,  
Or consummate; past, present, or to come?  
Oh! how disorder bringeth order home!  
This days confusion sure will far surpass  
The Chaos that at the Creation was:  
And this days order will the perfectest be  
That men or Angels ever yet did see.  
The sad confusion of thy Goat herds train  
Exceeds all thoughts conceived by mortals brain:  
And the sweet order of thy shepherd's sheep  
Will Angels strike with admiration deep.  
What hurly-burly here shall we descry  
'Mongst Nimrod's fell Tyrannic progeny?  
How loath (this day) will their proud ashes be  
To reunite; when they thy Son shall see  
(Whose members they have persecuted here)  
In cloud-clad glory come? what rueful cheer!  
What horror and amazement will confound  
Their loathsome souls, when that last trump shall sound,  
And they be summoned forthwith to appear  
Before that Judge, whom they condemned here?  
Pilate will wish his heart had washed been,  
When he his hands did wash, but for a screen  
To cover horrid murder: Wilful Jews,  
That roared out, Crucify him, at this news,  
(Struck with astonishment) will surely wish  
They had been all born dumb, or mute as fish.  
But empty wishes nought avail them here:  
For (will they, nill they) all men must appear  
At this last great Assize, and render in  
Complete account of what hath acted been  
By them here in the flesh: and not alone  
Of act's, but of their words, and thoughts each one:  
According whereunto they shall their doom  
Receive, for all that endless time to come;  
Save those for whom the Lamb was born and died:  
Who shall by faith, not by deserts, be tried:  
And (bathed in his blood) shall shine more bright,  
Then Phoebus doth when he gives purest light:  
These shall have all the tears wiped off their eyes;  
And be enthroned with the deities,  
With great Tri-une Jehovah; they shall be  
The Bridegroom's Bride to all eternity,  
And reign with him in bliss for evermore  
Who them redeemed hath, and paid their score.  
Lord, these do groan for this great day, and cry  
Come, come Lord Jesus: Oh come quickly! high!  
To set us free from sin, and from all those  
That persecute us, thine and our fierce foes.  
When shall we be avenged? when wilt thou  
Ascend the throne, and make all mortals bow  
Before thy footstool? when again restore  
All power unto thyself for evermore?  
Lord, reassume it, for it is thy due:  
Thou hast it lent a while to men, 'tis true:  
But they bad stewards prove, and miss-employ  
Thy talents, and deserve not to enjoy  
Thy slighted favour. Lord, call in again  
That power; and let the Lamb for ever reign;  
Then shall the Church triumphant sing his song  
With Hallelujahs, from the Angel-throng:  
For he alone is worthy to ascend  
The throne eternal; whose rule shall not end;  
Whose Kingdom and dominion ne'er shall ●…se:  
Who is the Prince of everlasting peace;  
Who from beginning was ordained to die,  
That he his chosen flock might glorify;  
To whom all glory be ascribed; and then  
Shall Saints and Angels cry Amen, amen.   

The Epigram.  
JUdas, prepare thy bag; thy day is come,  
When for thy pains, thou shalt be paid full home.  
But Oh! thy mind is changed; thou wouldst Essoyn  
Thyself this court, rather than take this Coin:  
Though take it needs thou must, and when thou hast it,  
'Twill last for ever: for time cannot waste it,  
Yet thou wilt find, thy state had been more thriving,  
Hadst thou refused those thirty pieces living.  
This is a maxim (though of my own making)  
Men grow not always truly rich by taking:  
Misers, whom love of coin on earth o'erswayed,  
Shall this day in their own coin be repaid.  
For Sion's Lamb when he ascends the throne,  
Will prove himself a debtor unto none,  
But will requite both good and ill that's done  
By all man's offspring, since the world begun.   

A soliloquy on the Resurrection.  
CHeer up, my soul; exalt thy head on high;  
For thy long-looked Redemption draweth nigh:  
Lo, thy sweet Saviour comes in glory bright,  
This day to put an end to day and night,  
Whence times alternate course away shall fly,  
Issuing forth into eternity,  
One everlasting day; whose splendour clear  
Will need no Sun to give us light, and cheer:  
Our Sun shall be the Sun of Righteousness,  
Which never sets; whose light no cloud makes less  
In his coruscant glory: He shall shine  
Into thine eyes (my soul) with light divine;  
And yet not dazzle them to hurt thereby;  
They'll dazzled be with sweet satiety,  
With joy and admiration to behold  
Israel's shepherd, with his flock and fold;  
The great Creator; thy Redeemer dear;  
The sacred Spirit; and the Angels clear;  
Thy fellow - Saints and Martyrs, Citizens  
Of new Jerusalem, heavens denizens:  
All clothed in robes more glorious than the Sun  
Ere was at Summer's noon since time begun.  
Thine ears shall hear the Alleluiahs' ring  
Through the great palace of th' Almighty King,  
And round the whole circumference of Heaven,  
And Heaven of heavens such echoes shall be given,  
Such acquaint retorting, such redouble-ings,  
And such retaking, by the choir that sings  
The Lamb's melodious song, to whose sweet notes  
The four and twenty Elders tune their throats,  
And wind their harpstrings to the highest pin;  
That ravishment of sense, and soul can win:  
The graver clashing of their Crowns of gold,  
Cast down before the Throne, will consort hold  
With their sweet viols tinkling triple tones;  
Whose Aromatic odours will at once  
Perfume all Heaven, and every nostril fill;  
With most divine contentment; sat the will,  
Stupefy sense, with sense of boundless bliss:  
(Yet not offend, but please the more for this,)  
O'ercome all hearts, conquer all souls with joy  
And yet by this oppression not annoy:  
All which our blessed joys shall last for ever,  
Beginning always fresh, but ending never:  
Which perpetuity of joy augments  
The value of it beyond all extents.  
I prise a grain's-weight of this joy and glory  
Beyond the world's-weight of what 's transitory.  
Lord, what a thing is man! a sinful worm:  
That thou shouldst him first form, then fallen 〈◊〉 form?  
Elect, Create, Redeem and Justify;  
More, sanctify? Nay, yet more, glorify?  
And that for ever! what a heap of wonders  
Hast thou done for us? who on this well ponders,  
Should laugh the world, the flesh and devil to scorn▪  
And care for nothing, but to be newborn.  
Lord, grant us still a heedful care of this,  
Which sure the one thing necessary is:  
Whereof if thou us truly careful see,  
All other things shall added to us be.  
Amen.   

To the World.  

1.  
MErchant! I see the fair's beginning,  
By thy swift hasting:  
Were thy ware lasting,  
'Twere worth the seeking, worth the winning:  
But it's fading:  
And thy trading  
Doth all Customers deceive:  
Thy fals-made ware, thou warrant'st good;  
Dost in exchange from man receive  
Rich ware; the price of richest blood.  
Whilst thus thou cheatest,  
The poorest soul thou gettest,  
Or e'er defeatest  
(However despised;  
If truly prized)  
Transcends in worth thyself and all thy brood.  
Unpack, expose thy ware to view:  
I'll buy of thee, if it be true:  
(Alas) it's false; though fair in show;  
I need none on't, save only clothes, and food.   

2.  
Why vauntest thou of the blast called honour?  
That bubble's broken,  
Whilst thou hast spoken.  
True wisdom never fixed eye 〈◊〉 her,  
Much less a heart.  
A cheat thou art:  
And when man looks upon thy ware,  
Thou with false optics dost him blind:  
Which makes what's seen to shine and glare,  
But keep'st obscure the worst behind:  
Thou show'st thy glory,  
That's but a forged story,  
And transitory;  
Keep'st man a stranger,  
From shame and danger,  
Till he miss that he sought, and both these find.  
Ah cheating Merchant! why should we  
Accept false ware proffered by thee?  
Grant Lord it rather stink to me;  
To thy ware fraudless be my heart inclined.   

3.  
Next showst thy Idols, wealth and treasure;  
Those dei-fiest,  
Wherein thou liest,  
Boasting of what's beyond thy measure:  
False deities  
Man them soon spies:  
Were they divine, they sure would fill  
Man's triangle, which they ne'er could:  
They leave our hearts unsated still;  
More fear than joy in heaps of gold,  
With care acquired,  
With fear kept, and admired.  
When help's desired,  
In day of trouble  
They danger double,  
And help thy Foes: so dear both bought and sold.  
Ah false Idolater! who can  
Adore thy Mammon? thy great Pan?  
And leave him that redeemed man?  
Grant me thy treasure, Lord, which grows not old.   

4.  
Next thou bring'st forth thy changeling Pleasure,  
Whose various shapes  
Commit even rapes  
On souls betrayed by too much leisure:  
This Proteus  
Seduceth us  
To trifle precious time away,  
In that which is not; when (alas!  
Spent we in real things that day)  
Our time too swift from us would pass.  
These painted babbles,  
Sense-stupifying fables,  
Bind strong as cables:  
Work on the fancy,  
Like Necromancy,  
That man forgets for what he form was.  
Ah Circe! cease thy cursed charms:  
Thy Siren's Songs portend our harms.  
Lord, take me into thy blessed arms;  
Be thou to me 'gainst her a wall of brass.    

An Epigram on the World.  
HOnour? and Treasure? what! and Pleasure too?  
Who puts off all these, hath enough to do.  
Base pedlar World! thou'st shown much Ware to day,  
All false, like thee: pack up thy pipes: away.   

Another on the same,  
THe world turned pedlar? doubtless she will sell  
Much paltry ware, although at price of Hell:  
Her smooth-tongued apprentices can set a gloss,  
To make that seem pure gold, which is but dross.  
Nay, they have got a cheat that passeth all,  
To make men think her highest price is small.  
(My soul) eat thou this market; go not forth,  
Where price is infinite beyond wares worth;  
To buy short joy, for woe that ne'er shall end!  
The Lord thee from such Merchandise defend.   

To self.  

1.  
MY nearest friend, and yet my merest foe;  
Who makest me two, that else but one would be,  
And in that one-ness happy, being so  
One with my dread creator: self thou me  
Dost from my self divide, and both from God.  
Fond self! were I my self, I could not bear  
Thy charming pressures, and forbear the rod,  
To scourge thy folly. But I still give ear  
To thy enticements, who allur'st my soul  
Clean paths to traverse, and to tread the foul.   

2.  
Thou foulest my paths, thyself; yea, thou layest snares  
In every foot-step to entrap us both:  
Thy baits are spells, inchant us unawares:  
Bewitch depraved nature; and betrothe  
Her to her mortalest foe, her ruling sin.  
Look I on beauty, God's sweet creature good,  
And useful? thou forthwith convey'st lust in  
To my frail heart: thou settest on fire my blood:  
Provok●… me to defilement: thoughts unchaste  
Pollute my soul, and my weak faith devaste.   

3.  
Think I on lawful thriving? or on wealth?  
Thou poisonest that thought with Avarice.  
Think I on honour? thou bringst in by stealth  
Pride and Ambition, and each haughty Vice.  
If on Religion's sacred self I ponder;  
Thou temptst to Superstition, Schism, or Error:  
My Faith with doubts, my Hope with fears keep'st under;  
Fill'st my distracted heart with horrid terror.  
Pray I with zeal? thou stir'st vain glory in me:  
If coldly, to cease praying thou wilt win me.   

4.  
Hear I Gods holy word? or do I read  
His sacred Oracles? thou interposest  
Base worldly garbage: and dost me misled  
By fleshly thoughts: or my Soul indisposest  
For such religious Duties by dull slumber,  
By mock-death-sleep, or chilliness of spirit,  
Or else with avaricious care dost cumber;  
Or puff performance with conceit of merit.  
And so a snake in my most fair paths layest,  
And (like a faithless self) thy self betrayest.   

5.  
Would I bewail my sins? thou p●trifi'st  
My melting heart: thou dri'st my tear-big-eyes,  
Drawst in my sigh-puft sails, and balm appli'st  
To fest'red Ulcers, whilst my Conscience cries  
They should be searched and cleansed: and so dost kill,  
By artless curing. But if I sustain  
A petty worldly cross, thou show'st thy skill  
With Probe and Corrosive●… and here again  
Thou killest me twice, whom world's cross should not wound,  
Were not thy dastard heart so apt to swoon.   

6.  
Call I a Parliament within my breast,  
And summon thither Faith, Hope, filial Fear,  
Love, and enlightened Conscience, with the rest  
Of the Lord's House: if they do all appear:  
Wit, Learning, Reason, humane Wisdom, Care,  
The Moral Virtues, and Dame Nature's Gifts,  
(All which, well used, good Common Members are)  
Out th' Higher House: And then are put to shifts  
Themselves, by thee, who makest them actless fall:  
Thou Autocrator-like, dost turn out all.   

7.  
But Oh! if I a parley with thee call,  
Each thought's as soon enacted, as conceived:  
Thy elbow-counsel are, World, devil, and all,  
That we ourselves by self may be deceived.  
Ah self-deluding self! thou hast retained  
A cunning counsel, whose abstruse advice  
Passes thy depth: thou'lt see't when they have trained  
Thee on to ruin: prithee Self be wise;  
And so adieu; we needs must part: farewel:  
I'm bend for Heaven, and thou art guide to Hell.  

Yet ah! I'm loath; but I thy witchcrafts smell,  
Thou makest this Stave, my Yard of Verse an Ell.     

The Epigram.  
SElf against self? and yet both selves in one?  
Far better self left self, or self were none:  
Oh happy news! they're parted: yet it's wonder  
If these loath-parting selves stay long asunder.  
If we re-meet, Lord, grant (to ill intents)  
Our Parleys actless as our Parliaments.   

The foreign Anchorite.  

1.  
REtired'st creature! who would ere believe,  
A living man should thus himself entomb,  
Immured to live, and die without reprieve,  
In a poor Mason's offsprings ventless womb?  
Such uncouth ways to life, in men reveal  
A frosty knowledge, though a fiery zeal.   

2.  
Here man's heroic soul so low descends,  
As to forsake communion with his kind;  
All intercourse with near related friends:  
Which might each other edify in mind,  
And teach in word and deed: pious converse  
Might spread thy faith through kingdoms by commerce.   

3.  
Is not thy talon hidden in this Cave?  
Or at the best useful to none but thee?  
Whilst thou abroad rich factorage mightst have,  
Which for thy Master's, and thy gain might be.  
Sure thy account will hardly pass at last,  
When on thy sloth such losses shall be cast.   

4.  
And why may not the tempter more prevail  
On thee in solitude? It was his plot  
On our Redeemer, thinking not to fail  
Of speeding, when he him alone had got.  
Thou temptest a tempter bold; for he that dared  
To set on God and man, of man ne'er feared.   

5.  
A stout and dreadful foe: And if thou stand  
On thine own strength, much more, invincible.  
Were't but a duel that thou tak'st in hand,  
Of one to one, such foe were terrible:  
But when whole Legi-ons come marching on,  
How wilt thou them oppose, that art alone?   

6.  
Blind-zeal-sick soul! in Charity i'll judge  
Thee pixie-led in Popish piety,  
Who makest thyself the triple-crowns base drudge,  
Debarred from all humane society;  
Who else mightst prove a Saint in future glory,  
And yet enjoy these pleasures transitory;   

7.  
Thy life retired augments but their vainglories,  
Who laugh at thee (in secret) all the while;  
Thy fairy Elves, who thee misled with stories  
Into the mire, then at thy folly smile,  
Yea, clap their hands for joy. Were I used so,  
I would shake hands with them, and turn their foe.   

8.  
Old country folk, who pixie-leading fear,  
Bear bread about them, to prevent that harm:  
Do thou the bread of life about thee bear,  
God's purest Word, and that those fiends will charm:  
That splendid light will chase false lights away,  
As ignes fatui fly from Sol's bright day.    

An Epigram on the same.  
SWeetly disposed soul (for so I hope)  
Though most deluded by thyself, and Pope;  
Perquire Zoographers, and none recite,  
A Roman Pope turned willing Anchorite.  
Now they so much abhor such doubtful ways,  
They'll not to Heaven go, without false ●ayes.   

Another on the same.  
FOnd man! what an unwritten way is this?  
Thou walkest to Heaven, and will't Heaven miss:  
Take God's word for thy guide, and thou shalt have  
My word that that's the way that he will save:  
Nay thou his word shalt have, who is the way  
And word of life, that thou shalt live for Ay.   

The domestic Anchorite.  

1.  
WElcome my soul from thy late pilgrimage  
To Romish Anchorites secluded cell;  
thou'rt welcome home: and now i'll thee engage  
To view an English Anchorite as well:  
Observe thyself with heed, and thou shalt see,  
Thou art much more an Anchorite than he.   

2.  
Thou art a freeborn spark, of race divine,  
Sprung from eternal parentage, inspired  
By great Jehovah, of thy God's right line:  
Stamped with his Image: with his Spirit fired:  
And yet (by native sin) art from thy birth  
Immured in this dull nasty lump of earth.   

3.  
Thy body is thy jail, and keeper both;  
A stricter keeper, and a jail more sure,  
Man never had, although thou still art loath  
To be released; thy case is quite past cure:  
For if to free thyself thou shouldst endeavour,  
That act will make thee a worse slave for ever.   

4.  
Thy great Creator made his Covenant  
Of works, that thou in doing thus shouldst live,  
And reign eternally: but (if works want)  
Shouldst die for evermore, without reprieve.  
That sacred Covenant this body broke:  
And drew on thee (poor soul) this hellish yoke.   

5.  
A Covenant of Grace than God devised,  
By a Redeemer, his own only Son;  
Which most transcendent easy terms comprised:  
Believe, be saved; Believe not, be undone:  
Yet still this rotten carcase doth withstand:  
When Heaven's offered, she draws in Faith's hand.   

6.  
It is a Jail so close, that thou dost fill  
Each smallest Angle of her Continent,  
And all her rooms at once; no Mason's skill  
So close an Anchoritage could invent:  
By the admired Architectors Art,  
Thou 'rt All in All, and All in every part.   

7.  
Thy Jayl's thyself; for thou and it are one,  
Yet all your inclinations opposite:  
Your proper actings vary not alone,  
But still to contrarieties incite:  
Will'st thou? thy Keeper nills: what thou dost nill,  
Do what thou canst, thy Keeper do it will.   

8.  
Thy windows all are shut in this dark cave:  
Thy eyes closed up: and when (like sealed Dove)  
Thou fain wouldst flutter upward, light to have;  
This flesh to thee united, will not move,  
But draws thee back, and eclipse thy soaring wings,  
Or at thy lofti'st pitch thee downward flings.   

9  
The world hath none more Anchorite than thou:  
Thy case seems desperate: And yet a cure  
I'll thee prescribe, and briefly show thee how  
Thou may'st be safe, put but the same in ure:  
If thou wilt soul and body both refresh,  
When Spirit's sick, give Physic to the flesh.   

10.  
Give her a Vomit of Repentance true,  
Steeped well in tears, and taken next the heart,  
Till that be broke: each day the same renew:  
(A paradoxick Cure in physic's Art)  
Purge oft by fasts and prayers, till thereby  
An Issue thou procure in either eye.   

11.  
Take a good quantity of detestation,  
Of hatred, and abhorrency of sin;  
Chief of that near to thee in relation,  
Which hath thy Darling and Beloved been:  
Thy right hand, thy right eye, cut off, pluck out,  
And cast from thee: these wounds will cure, no doubt.   

12.  
When thou hast sound thus evacuated  
Thy sinful humours; if thou faintish grow,  
And feel thy strength somewhat too much abated,  
By Faith, this Cordial take that I thee show:  
A dose of God-mans' blood, mixed with his merits:  
'Twill thee restore, and cheer thy heart and spirits.   

13.  
The greatest Doctor ere on earth did tread,  
A better medicine ne'er prescribed to man:  
This life restores to men whole ages dead:  
Nay, this eternal life procure thee can.  
But after vomit, still beware returning:  
And in and after purging, keep zeal burning.   

14.  
This will restore God's Image, lost by sin:  
Make thee his son: thee with his Spirit fill;  
Free thee from keeper, and the jail thou'rt in:  
Hereby thou mayst both covenants fulfil:  
Open thy windows, and unclose thine eyes,  
And higher mount, than Lark or Eagle flies.   

15.  
By this thou may'st fly higher than the spheres;  
Out-mount all mortal thoughts; and live most free,  
From worldly thraldoms, crosses, cares, and fears:  
Have God's imperial throne prepared for thee  
To King it in; when thou from hence shalt soar  
To reign with him in joy for evermore.    

The Epigram.  
MY soul, take my advice; It's good (no doubt)  
Thou and thy Jail were both turned inside out.  
Pray him that made you both (for Jesus sake)  
He'll thee henceforth thy keeper's keeper make.  
'Twould main advancement to his glory be,  
Couldst thou overrule this wretch that now rules thee.   

Another on the same.  
TRanscendent wonder! that who's born most free,  
A slave unto himself should freely be!  
That the diviner soul, of godlike birth,  
Should be a vassal to a lump of earth!  
But she had never thus imprisoned been,  
Had not this body captived her by sin,  
Mortify thou this body for't, and then  
Thou shalt regain thy liberty again:  
Subdue its lusts; break its proud heart asunder;  
Then (by Christ's help) thou'lt keep thy keeper under.   

To Christians rigidly censorious.  
DEar fellow-members of that mystic head  
Who is our Jesus, and our Christ should be,  
Who ever must be so acknowledged  
By those that hope his face with joy to see!  
Cease all rash judgement: look on me a worm,  
The most unworthy member of you all,  
Who cannot as I would, base self reform,  
Yet trust in him to do't who's all in all,  
Who sees and governs hearts with much more ease  
Than men can actions: let his love divine  
Calm your incensed spirits, and appease:  
Your zealous hearts: forbear to judge of mine,  
Or others men's estates by bare surmise,  
To stumble at our failings: for we stand.  
Or fall to our great master, who espies  
The thoughts, words, deeds, of each heart, tongue, and hand,  
And judgeth all uprightly: whom nor fear  
Nor favour e'er can sway, nor bribe corrupt.  
Happy are you that can your wills forbear,  
And them subject to his: who interrupt  
Lusts, passions, and affections natural  
By his assisting grace; for thereby 'tis  
Alone that you can stand: and though we fall  
Often and much: rob us not of the bliss  
Of your conniving Charity; but give  
Mild censures of our states: for our desires  
Like yours are infinite, wishing to live  
In each particular as God requires;  
But ah! corrupted nature so much sways  
In our frail hearts, and all our duties taints:  
We leave his pure, to walk in our vain ways;  
No less might you, were't not for his restraints.  
Forbidden Lord that I here should plead for sin  
In customary practice unopposed;  
It's crimes in which we fall, not wallow in,  
Our hearts the while being otherwise disposed:  
Death's body that is in us, towes us on  
To do what our oppressed souls abhor;  
Whence none can us deliver, but who's gone,  
Yet stays with thee our pardons to implore:  
On whom alone for mercy we depend,  
Since 'tis thy will, who won, shall wear the prize:  
His merits, not our own, our cause defend;  
And they alone thy justice can suffice;  
Our morning-dews, our menstruous rags are full  
Of emptiness, as well as filth that soils  
Our souls with self-conceit, which renders dull  
And dead our duties, and our grace's foils;  
So whilst we in ourselves for something look,  
We overlook our souls Paupharmacon,  
And swallow Satan's subtlest bait and hook  
(Which so besots mysterious Babylon,)  
Self-merit; which can ne'er God's test endure:  
Though we may hug ourselves in highflown hopes,  
They'll vanish soon, and we shall stand impure  
In his pure eyes, who'll storm down all self-props.  
Dear brethren militant! who here wage war  
Against world, flesh, and Devil, our common foes:  
If any of you herewith tainted are,  
(As many doubtless are, though who none knows,)  
Let me beseech your interchange of prayers  
For us to graces sacred throne; and ours  
Shall be for you: this mutual love repairs  
All Christian breaches: cry with all your powers  
For our more strict obedience; and we'll cry  
With ours for your humility the while;  
And let's all cry for Christian unity  
Betwixt us all: divisions do defile  
Our mother's face, they sully her fair skin,  
And schism hath branded truths sweet self with lies;  
Whilst we neglect the danger we are in,  
And foster errors which our foes devise,  
Purposely to divide, that they may reign,  
And ruin undescri'dly Church and State;  
To bring us back enslaved to Rome and Spain:  
Oh haste prevention, lest it prove too late!  
Let's join hearts, hands and heads; let's cry aloud  
With true repentant tears for our high crimes,  
Which cry for vengeance, and are yet allowed:  
Frist mend ourselves, than we shall mend the times,  
For we have marred them: and till we reform,  
They'll grow but worse in spite of wit, of force,  
Or policy; And we shall have a storm,  
Insensible by all our foot, and horse.  
Defend, dear Lord, defend these sinful lands,  
From thy impending judgements, and retract  
Thy unsheathed sword: and let not their fierce hands  
Thy just revenge on these vile Nations act,  
Who are thy foes and ours, though our deserts  
Plead strongly so to have it: but reclaim  
Our sinful lives, and turn our stubborn hearts,  
That we at last may at thy glory aim,  
And scorn self-ends, the Idol of this Land;  
Lest self-ends bring us to self-ends indeed,  
As well as in intention; (Lord) thy hand  
Alone can save us: blessed God, proceed  
Wonders to work within us. In our change,  
As thou hast long without us wonders wrought:  
Turn us from bad to good; thy plagues estrange  
Which unrepented sins have on us brought:  
Restore us unity and peace divine:  
Let thy sweet Gospel's glory still increase:  
Be thou Lord ours, and make us to be thine,  
And bless these Isles with Christian joy and peace:  
Then shalt thou joy in us, and we in thee,  
And spread thy glory through earth's spacious rounds:  
That all its Nations may come in and see  
Thy saving health, and how thy grace abounds.  
Amen.   

Epigram.  
HOw crooked in this age is mankind grown?  
Some give offence, and others take where's none:  
All flock like Larks to Day nets, and most fly  
To a false glass, in stead of Heavens bright eye:  
Opinion guideth most, and she (by faction)  
Is quite beside herself, in high distraction.  
Our wanton hearts each spark take, tinder-like,  
That Rome's and Spain's false steel & stone do strike;  
But ah beware, lest (blown into a flame)  
Those sparks devour our Nation and our Name:  
They had ere now, did he not them prevent,  
From whose pure truths, they charm us to descent,  
By broaching sapless Schisms, fruitless Dissensions;  
Teaching for truths their own accursed inventions.  
Lord, reunite us ere we ruin'd be:  
Make us at odds with them, but one with thee.  
Amen.   

The bitter sweet.  

1.  
LOrd! it's a time of changes; oh be pleased  
To change us so, that we may be appeased  
In every change; submit our stormy wills  
To thy disposals; silence passion stills;  
And meek embracement of sharp dispensations  
To us-wards for our great prevarications:  
Retard ensuing judgements; I might say,  
Prevents them, since it doth thy wrath allay.   

2.  
Lord! it's a time of troubles: trouble me  
Most for my sins; since they most trouble thee.  
Impow'r me, Lord, to trouble them as well  
Who are the achan's of thy Isra-el;  
Let them have trouble, till they troubled die,  
Sunk in oblivion to eternity.  
These cursed Egyptians still have thee withstood:  
Drown them in the Red-sea of thy Son's blood.   

3.  
Lord! it's a time of war; arm thou my soul  
Against my lusts and my corruptions foul,  
Which with world, flesh, and devil, united stand  
Encamped against me. Thine Almighty hand  
Alone can save: make me resolved and stout;  
That I by grace these restless foes may rout:  
Teach me thy spiritual armour so to wield,  
That they subdued with shame, may fly the field.   

4.  
Lord! it's a time of sickness: oh! I faint:  
Sin is my sickness; make it my complaint:  
Dear Christ, be thou my doctor, or I die:  
No doctor else can cure my malady;  
It's a contagious botch hereditary;  
A leprosy, that doth infection carry  
Through all man's generations; all man's line:  
'Tis blood must cureed: and no blood can, but thine.   

5.  
Lord! it's a time of death: teach me to die  
Aright to sin, that I may live thereby  
To righteousness: then (as that death pleas'th thee,)  
Death natural will pleasing prove to me:  
Whilst in thee I shall die, death shall but hurry  
Me from this vale of tears to endless glory.  
Grant these two deaths (who once didst die for me)  
I first may die to sin, next die in thee.   

Chorus.  
IN changes, troubles, war, sickness, and death:  
My sweets above, my bitter still beneath.    

Mos Mundi. The broad way.  

1.  
TO drink, to drab, to dance and sing,  
To swear, and swagger, roar and rant,  
Carouse, and Hats up fling,  
Laugh, boast, and vaunt,  
Jeer and taunt,  
Jest and Jibe  
Like Thraso's tribe:  
To flatter, cog, and lie,  
Pack Cards, and trip a die,  
Frolic, and feast,  
And play the beast:  
Have mirthful parts accounted been:  
Yea, noble qualities esteemed:  
But wise men when they such have seen,  
Them rather mad, then mer●y deemed.   

2.  
To fast, be chaste, demurely talk,  
Hate Oaths, debauched behaviour fly,  
And soberly to walk,  
Jests to defy,  
And each lie;  
Truth to speak,  
Wrath not to wreak,  
But leave revenge to God,  
Are all held humours odd:  
Who such is turned,  
Is mosily scorned,  
The world so impudent is grown,  
That sin gains glory, virtue shame;  
Astraea is to Heaven flown,  
And Grace on Earth hath lost her name.   
Sic transit gloria mundi:  
Praesentis: non futuri.   

Eternity.  
ETernity! Ah dearest Lord assist  
My shallow Muse; for she's quite overwhelmed  
In this vast Ocean: she's of footing miss;  
Tossed on the surging waves, like ship unhelmed;  
Deprived of terminus à quo, from whence  
Her voyage to begin; and the ad quem,  
Where it should end: since he's deprived of sense  
Who in eternity doth seek for them:  
She no beginning had, nor end shall have,  
But from eternal to eternal be:  
Was, is, and shall be, when death, and the grave,  
The Earth, the Sea, the Heavens (which we see)  
Were all mere nothing, unborn, unbegotten:  
Whilst they their time ordained continue shall;  
And when they all are vanished, and forgotten,  
She'll stay unmetamorphosed at all.  
In her, nor time, nor age, can change effect;  
Nor all the powers of Earth and Hell prevail  
To make a wrinkle in her sweet aspect,  
Nor frost one hair, though jointly they assayl.  
When Heaven shall moult her Stars, & (like a roll)  
Involved be in flames, that shall consume  
The world's whole fabric (save man's deathless soul:)  
And God shall in a moment us assume  
(Changed) to himself: Yet she shall still remain  
Immutable, by his divine decree  
Who her empowered that sameness to retain  
In self-fruition to eternity.  
Old Idol-makers emblemized her by  
A snake turned round, whose mouth and tail did meet;  
Which endless form showed forth a deity,  
Whose everlasting being, could not fleet,  
Nor end receive, but still revert again  
To its beginning: Others portrayed her  
In youthful shape, so ever to remain.  
Both in the right, and yet both out on't were;  
Though everlasting and unchangeable,  
She's but a creature: so they erred both  
In de-ifying her: yet no man's able  
Of her deep Essence to conceive the troth:  
She's of too lofty birth, too deep conception  
For our low, shallow apprehensions reach:  
The thought whereof should move us to reception  
Of humbled hearts, and soul-submission teach  
To our and her great God, whose wonders woe  
Our wayward hearts from transitory joys,  
To will what he doth will, and that to do:  
To fix on him; and so abandon toys.  
Sacred Eternity should make us slight  
These shadow-pleasures, short delights below,  
False creature-comforts; and to eye that light  
That leads to true and lasting joys: we know  
Those soon shall fade: And our immortal souls  
Run parallel unto Eternity,  
In woe or weal. Who then, but heedless fools,  
Will lose firm joys, to joy in vanity?  
Hark, fearless Dolt! hammer thy steeled heart  
On this firm Anvil; Oft in mind revolve  
Eternity, that she may make thee part  
From thy embosom'd lusts; the stone dissolve  
That's in thy breast; thy crusted conscience soften;  
Impow'r thee Satan's wiles more to resist:  
To do good oftener, and not sin so often,  
For fear of everlasting had I witted.  
This single word in brief doth comprehend  
All the surpassing joys that Heaven affords:  
And all the torments that the damned find  
In Hell, them to express need no more words;  
For though the joys of one be infinite  
In number, weight and measure, and as well  
The others torments no less infinite:  
Eternity makes them both Heaven and Hell.  
Her age in times mere infancy was vast,  
Transcending all Arithmeticians skill:  
The number of her forepast years to cast,  
Though they should use the stars that Heaven fill,  
Each grass, and grain of dust that Earth can show,  
And all the drops and sands in Sea and shore,  
With the air's Atoms; they would be too few  
(Were each a thousand thousand millions more)  
For figures that grand number to express  
To which they would amount: However, when time  
Shall be no more, her youth will be no less  
Then at the first. O wonder most sublime!  
Here muse, and stand amazed, presumptuous man,  
Who squandrest precious time in seeking that  
Which when possessed annoys! Content ne'er can  
Be found in Treasures, Honours, Pleasures, flat  
False titillations: They the fancy please  
With momentaneous tickling: but the foul  
Can no satiety receive from these,  
Whilst her diviner eyes espy their foul  
And gross delusions, winning us to waste  
Our time of grace, (short week of working days)  
On toys and trifles care away to cast,  
Neglecting (our creation's end) his praise  
That form us; and so to lose our pay  
In that eternal Sabbath's rest to come,  
And gull us with false hopes, that fade away  
When Judgement dooms us Hell for our sad home;  
Whose everlasting flames should us deter  
From their allurements, and our souls provoke  
No longer true repentance to defer,  
But take upon us our Redeemers yoke,  
Embrace his endless love. And let that force  
Our souls to grace, by holy violence:  
Redeem our time by Faith and true remorse,  
And giving neither God nor man offence;  
For on the husbanding of this short span  
Of our frail life, eternal life depends,  
Or death eternal. Oh! when this we scan,  
It should unbottom us from all false ends:  
And keep us firm in truth's sincerest ways,  
And in the paths of life; that when times race  
Is run, and all distinguishments by days,  
Hours, months & years, shall here no more have place,  
We may enjoy Eternity above:  
Whereof that we may not at last be missed,  
But ponder still in heart (what doth behoove)  
Eternity! Ah dearest Lord, assist.  
AMEN.   

The Epigram on the same.  
ETernity my Muse doth quite confound:  
Her true Description never Mortal found.  
Rings, Snakes, and Globes, with such round things as those  
Th' Ancients for her di●…e resemblance chose;  
A boundless Plain; a pointless Parallel:  
A Circle that includes both Heaven and Hell,  
Yet hath nor Centre; nor Circumference  
Demonstrable to Reason, or to sense;  
Each Mathematic poin● of whose vast Ring  
Equals her whole Dimension. Wondrous thing!  
Yet true as strange. Nay more, I'll tell you what;  
Think what man cannot think, and she is that.  
She rounds my Verse, no man her depth can sound,  
Eternity my Muse doth quite confound.   

Objections, Solutions, and Chorus.  

Objection 1.  
WHy should only Man desire  
To transgress his Maker's Laws,  
Who made him so high aspire,  
That all earthly things he awes?   

Solution 1.  
NOthing but corrupted Nature  
Made Man so perverse a creature;  
Nothing but renewing Grace  
Can Man's guilt and filth deface.   

Objection 2.  
WHy should Christ from glory come,  
To be born in coursest home,  
Live and die in pain and grief,  
For unthankful man's relief?   

Solution 2.  
NOthing but divinest Love  
Brought our Maker from above,  
Who, for all his grief and pain  
Craves but Love for Love again.   

The CHORE.  
OH admired Love divine!  
Suit our hearts with love to thine!  
Then adieu false creature-joys;  
Welcome Truths, and farewel Toys.    

Man's Heart.  

1.  
A Curious triangle methinks I see  
Immured by heavens Eternal Architect,  
His seed-plot of each Grace divine to be:  
A glorious Paradise without defect:  
A Paradise in Paradise, (that's slight)  
The Paradise of Paradise: the throne  
Of the world's great Creator, whose delight  
Was fi●… therein: his Majesty thereon.  

Such was Man's heart, and such might still have been,  
Had he balked Serpentine deceit of sin.    

2.  
But, ah most horrid fate! since Adam fell,  
This Nursery a Wilderness is grown:  
Eden of Eden, is the Hell of Hell,  
And Grace's plants by Pride's puffs overthrown:  
Earth-mices have eat the seeds: the thorns and briers,  
Hemlock and Wormwood have over spread the ground  
Once tilled to grace; Lusts and corrupt desires,  
With all their base productions, there abound:  

And what was once the King of Glories home,  
Is wholly now a Den for Fiends become.    

3.  
World, flesh and devil this triangle have filled,  
Having got full possession, placed therein  
A cursed rabblement of Elves that build  
Fortifications, and strong holds for Sin,  
The blessed Founder's greatest Enemy,  
Who in them rests secure: thence Grace repels,  
Though proffered by the Lord spontaneously,  
And all good Inclinations quite expels;  

Whence from a spiritual Cana-an, it's grown  
No less than a mysterious Babylon.    

4.  
It's now the old Red Dragon's Nursery:  
A new Plantation of each hateful crime:  
The Shop of that accursed Apothecary,  
Who therein doth his poisonous drugs sublime:  
Pride's Mercury, Zeal-chilling Ellebore,  
Intemperancies Swine-bane; Antimony  
Of Infidelity, and thousands more:  
The Opium of dull security,  

And Lust's Cantharideses: these he refines,  
By them to work his mischievous designs.    

5.  
The cunning Gardener doth ofttimes grafted,  
Bud, and inoculate (to show his skill)  
Produc'th fair-seeming flowers on stocks stark naught,  
And specious fruits, from roots corrupt and ill:  
But these, like Sodoms Apples, vanish quite,  
If tried by touch: which sorts he mostly plants  
In a close corner, for his own delight,  
Allotted to Hypocrisy: where wants  

No dressing that the Devil can afford  
To nourish plants accursed, and abhorred.    

6.  
Stand you but there at gaze, and you will deem  
Yourself in Heaven, with Saints encircled round,  
Whilst it is Hell and Devils: for they but seem,  
And are not real: as will once be found.  
The Angel's trumpets that at last shall blow  
Our Resurrection-summons, them shall blast,  
And we their painted falsities shall know;  
Themselves in everlasting flames be cast:  

Their rotten Roots, which all shall plainly see,  
Proclaim who Imped them: and whose Imps they be.    

7.  
Dread God shall this Intruder still possess  
Thy sacred portion, and thy choicest field,  
'Twill make him question thine Almightiness:  
Avenge thee, Lord, and force the fiend to yield.  
Root out his worthless plants, and replant thine:  
New turn the ground, and sow thy seeds of grace  
Afresh therein: and let thy power divine  
Cherish them there: Satan's rank weeds deface:  

Batter his raised forts, his forces rout:  
Re-enter in thy Right, and turn him out.    

8.  
Renew thy sin-demolished Image here:  
Hollow this little frame to thy great praise:  
New mould, new make the model, hence cashier  
Innate corruptions: plain the crooked ways:  
Throw down the hills and hillocks: raise the vales:  
Manure the barren ground: more fertile make,  
The erst unfallowed plots: rebuild the walls:  
Thy wont pleasure in this fabric take.  

Lord, it did cost thee dear when thou wentest hence,  
To purchase it with thy heart-blood's expense.     

An Epigram on the same.  
COuld not Creations Title keep Gods Right  
In man's false heart, that subtle Serpent's spite  
Compelled him to redeem what was his own  
Unforfeited? It now his right is grown  
By purchase too: Lord, keep what now thou hast,  
For we shall lose it, if thou hold not fast:  
A fairer purchase ne'er was bought or sold;  
Nor fickler for the Purchaser to hold.  
Were not thy Mercy great and stupifying,  
'Twas ne'er worth making, much less worth thy buying.   

Infancy.  
EPitome of man! why such sad cheer  
As cries and tears at thy first entrance here?  
Sure thou confut'st philosophers of old,  
Who tales of spheres harmonious music told:  
Such a celestial choir must by and by  
Ravish thy soul with charming melody;  
But thou art deaf to them, they mute to thee:  
'Twixt deaf and dumb new-met, what sympathy?  
Alas but small. But thou thus dost not cry  
Their error to confute, or to descry:  
Thou'st cause enough besides; thy pain in birth,  
And birth to future pain, whilst here on earth:  
Thou comest from whence thou hadst content before;  
And whilst thou'rt here, shalt never have it more.  
Can thy diminutive heart choose but mourn  
To restless pains and crosses to be borne?  
Alas, what hath this empty world that's rare  
To please thee with? a teat, a bib, fine ware,  
A rattle, whistle? toys with crying after  
These rarities may justly challenge laughter,  
Though not worth joying in, nor yet enjoying,  
But that thy crying fits are hushed with toying.  
Yet this i'll say for thee, who in no wise  
Canst for thy little self apologise:  
Men riper yeared pursue as eagerly  
More noxious babbles, and sing lullaby  
To their deluded souls in those enjoying,  
Which mostly are their selves and souls destroying.  
Bacchus wins men with bibbs: Cupid with teats:  
Whilst Mars with whistels calls to famous feats;  
But all-commanding Mammon rattles makes  
With cursed coyn-baggs, cheating metal-cakes,  
Worse than At'lanta's apples in the way  
To Heaven: they force us both to stay and stray.  
Oh then let's cease to laugh at thy weak wits,  
And learn to mourn for our own frantic fits.  
Far better we delighted in thy toys,  
Then by our own to lose eternal joys.  
But ah thy innocence in act! could we  
In that perfection equalise but thee,  
We happy were. Such must we be; for none  
But some way such, shall Heaven attain alone.  
Lord make us such; for only thou canst tame  
Our headstrong natures, and make us disclaim  
Proud self, who (flown aloft) doth meteorize  
And with false flashes dazzles faith's weak eyes.  
Extinguish Lord this fatal Comet in us;  
Infantize thou our high-swollen hearts, and win us  
To humble meckness: by thy peerless skill;  
Make us stout men, yet little children still;  
That with humility and innocence  
'Gainst all assailants we may make defence,  
And strive to victory. Oh thou most high!  
List us for soldiers of thy infantry.   

The Epigram.  
WEakest of creatures! what? come naked forth  
Into the world's vast wilderness? it's worth  
Thy cries and tears, yea cares and fears beside,  
What may thee in this solitude betid.  
Yet ne'er despair; take for thy comfort this,  
'Tis the most beaten road to future bliss.  
Husband thy tears, treasure them up in store,  
To mourn for sin: thy joy shall be the more.  
Foes thou hast great, and many: but a friend,  
That's gone this way unto the journey's end,  
Hath weakened them, yea will them all subdue,  
Only believe in him: he's yet in view,  
In eye of faith: keep still thy innocence:  
Be still a child, in giving no offence:  
Keep thy friend's footsteps home to Heaven door,  
For 'tis Heav'ns-God's-son that is gone before.   

Puerility.  
INfancy was illiterate and past  
In wordless craving, to be pleased in haste.  
The A. B. C of man next treads the stage;  
It feet the world's great ball, which riper age  
Doth head, and hearts so much, that oft it strains  
Her heart-stings to a crack: oft breaks her brains.  
Childhood's a pretty fiddle; but the rod  
Doth spoil its case, and makes its music odd  
And harsh, which else would mostly pleasant be,  
Though much more out of tune: the Birchen tree  
Terrifies more in schools then English oaks  
‛ Erst did their foes at Sea with thunder strokes:  
Whence some of this small tribe will dare aver  
Nero not half so bad's a schoolmaster.  
See, see our wayward nature! native hate  
To means whose ends might us felicitate!  
We willingly will precious time advance  
To loss of knowledge, gain of ignorance;  
A barter that breaks all the Merchants trust,  
Yet satisfies none but the Devil and lust,  
His foes, not creditors. Hark, wanton! hark!  
Walk in the day, for danger's in the dark:  
Knowledge no burden is, save unto those  
Whom ignorance marks out for wisdom's foes.  
Learn but what's good, and what is evil shun:  
Play on as long's thou wilt, the game is won.  
Surely thy life's a puppet-play, wherein  
●hy acted parts allude to future sin:  
●hy potguns may to Cannons grow: thy cash  
Of rounded slats, breed love of that base trash  
That so enchants earth's pilgrims, that they sell  
Their lives, their souls, for coin; to purchase Hell.  
Thy plays in which thou prisoners tak'st, descry  
The course of wars, where some pursue, some fly.  
Thy hood-wincked sports give ignorance her due,  
●n emblem fabulous, whose moral's true.  
These (thy now counterfeits) in future times,  
Become, thy real actions, and thy crimes.  
Lord, what a gallimaufry of deceit  
●s man's frail life! who first doth counterfeit,  
Next rea-lize those vanities which tend  
At last to falsehood, and an endless end!  
End, end these wanton toys: play not the sot.  
To make a trade of that which profits not;  
●eason thy new-made clome with sipid liquor,  
These used as recreations may make quicker  
Thy parts of soul and body for that trade,  
In whose sole profit thou art marred or made;  
Oh! 'tis of high concernment: weigh thy time,  
And weigh it to the grains: it's rare pastime,  
Full fraught with true content, rich gain to boot:  
And now's thy time, yea now's high time to do't.  
Each minute this way spent, will win thee store  
Of wealth and bliss, when time shall be no more.  
Think in thy play, each step of thine steps on  
One step towards thy grave, which steps-time gone  
Thou never canst recall, to re-imploy  
More profitably for thy future joy.  
When thou dost learn thy book, each letter think  
Sin's emblem: as the paper's stained with ink,  
Sin stains thy self: each sin's a letter foul,  
A capital character for thy soul,  
Wherein to read its doom, if penitence  
Rinse not away with blood, guilt and offence.  
Learnest thou to write? Ah! than thou act'st to life  
Thy own life's acts, to sins-blurs far more rife,  
And prone then fairest paper is to take  
The blurs that thy miss-guided pen doth make:  
And learn from hence occasions to avoid,  
Whereby thy soul with sin might be annoyed.  
These uses make of thy occurrent plays,  
And of thy labours too; that so thy ways  
By both may bettered be: Though this seem hard,  
It's worth thy pains, and will return reward:  
Reward, that will requite thy vigilance  
Ten thousand-fold: Yea, thy estare advance  
To a degree of contentation here:  
In time to come, unto eternal cheer.  
But oh! it's uncouth, harsh to flesh and blood,  
In thy small volume, to affect what's good;  
Though in thy youngers we with ease may ' spy  
An in-nate proneness to depravity.  
Well: take thy course; I here presented have  
Before thee life and death: And now I crave,  
And wish thy better choice: But if thou wilt  
Run nature's course, eat grace, and so be spilt;  
Forget not what is told thee: this withal,  
God will to strict account thee shortly call.  
Chant on, my pretty Cricket; but remember.  
March-singing Thrushes meet a mute December.   

An Epigram on the same.  
CHildhood's a cyens of man's tree: And lo,  
As you it bend, 'twill strait, or crooked grow:  
bend it betime to grace, and humble make it,  
Lest bigger grown, a headstrong stiffness take it:  
Then will your labour be to little end:  
Such rugged stocks will rather break then bent.  
And thou (my little Mannikin) give ear,  
To good directions; fit corrections bear:  
They both are physic good: they will procure  
Thy lasting health: they'll thee for ever cure.  
Wilt thou not take them, but keep on thy tomming?  
Then take this pill: WELL, wanton, winter's coming.   

Youth.  
FAirest of sub-celestials! draw thee near:  
Grace our great stage; thou art an Angel's phe●…  
If but with grace replete: But i'm mistaken:  
And Lark-like with a stolen and day-net taken,  
Deeming a glass the Sun: I see my error:  
I find from thee deep grounds of fear and terror.  
Help, help me, store of manacles, and gyves,  
Stocks, shackles, pillories, and all that gives  
Correction to untamed man; yea, call  
For bridles, halters, bits, and curbs withal,  
Ropes, fetters, barnacles, and cables strong:  
Nay, bring the Axe, and Gallows both along,  
Whose powers can briefly tame both man and beast:  
Bring any Engine else, not here expressed:  
Then fetch me all earth's Conjurers and Witches,  
Whom Satan makes believe they wear the breeches,  
And can him rule: bring Devil and all: These forces  
May tame Bears, Lions, Boars, Bulls, Tigers, Horses,  
And all wild beasts: Ships under sail, and winds,  
In roughest storms, Sea, where a way it finds;  
Fire, water, earth, and air: yet cannot fear  
More untamed youth from its most wild career.  
Hark, witless wild-oats! though thou raunt'st it thus,  
I've got a lusty guard: And some of us  
Shall one day tame thee: Nay, i'll tell thee more:  
He that brings up the Re●r, hath quite o'erbore  
And captivated thee: who knowst it not:  
The sadder much thy case, the worse thy lot.  
His subtlety is Serpentine, beware;  
Give him an Inch, he'll take an Ell: who dare  
Allow him but the lordship of a thought,  
Into his vassalage are slily brought  
In thoughts, words, acts and all, till he erect  
His kingdom in their souls: a sad effect  
Of such a slighted cause. Resolve therefore  
To free thee of his thraldom, serve no more.  
No more serve him: But serve him who hath bought  
Thy freedom out by price unheard, unthought,  
Till Gospel it revealed: By his heartblood  
He freed thee from thy sin-bound prentice-hood:  
And he makes all his servants perfect free:  
The world yields no such master else for thee:  
His silver's only currant, his gold pure,  
Thy wages thousandfold, thy payment sure.  
Oh take him; he thy Covenant long since sealed:  
Put seal to his, lest thine should be repealed.  
Christophorize, and make the legend true.  
Forsake the Devil, and take a master new.  
But know withal, this master's such a one,  
As will a new man have, or else have none.  
Renew, renew thy life: employ thy strength  
In those achievements that bring bliss at length:  
Squander not time, and money both, for that  
Which is not bread: whose best contentment's flat,  
Dull, dead, and low, unsating to thy soul:  
Yea, mortal poison venomous and foul:  
Such are thy lusts, which thou pursuest amain;  
They'll neither end in pleasure, nor in gain,  
But rueful woe, and loss. Recall thy mind;  
Summon thy senses in, which reason blind;  
‛ Lure them to her subjection; will suppress,  
And give more sway to grace, to nature less:  
Ne'er man laid grain of honour in the dust,  
By yielding unto grace, but unto lust.  
I know thou look'st aloft, thou prizest self,  
Thou valu'st honour more than worldly pelf:  
For this I should commend thee, didst thou know  
But what true honour is; not this below:  
Not Scutcheons fair; not worm-fret monuments,  
Nor large-dimensioned pettigrees; great rents:  
Millions of Manors; princely Fabrics raised  
By glorious Ancestors, whose fame is blazed  
In dateless old Records, to be descended  
From an Heroic stock, whose worth transcended  
Earth's greatest Monarches: Nor from him that claims  
Her universal Crown, whose boundless aims  
Lay title to the Heavens, Earth, and Hell,  
When but the lasts his due. No, no, know well,  
To be, or come from such, false honour is,  
Whose affectation cheateth us of bliss:  
It's but imaginary. Honour true  
Puts off the old man, and puts on the new:  
Strives not to seem, but be more good than great:  
To sinful thoughts, words, actions, sounds retreat.  
For them most mourns: Of them is most ashamed:  
Hating to be deformed, more than defamed;  
Deformed in soul; for that's true ugliness:  
As sanctity is truest comeliness.  
Take God's Word for thy glass: there see thy face  
Of soul, and body both: with tires of grace  
Adorn thyself: So shalt thou fairer be,  
Then the best beauty mortal ere did see.  
Let faith, repentance, patience, modesty,  
Chastity, temperance, sobriety,  
Charity, justice, mercy, zeal, and peace,  
Fortitude, meekness, and such gems as these,  
Give lustre to thy life: they'll make thee shine  
In humane eyes, and more in eyes divine.  
If grey hairs fraught with Grace, a glory be,  
'Tis much-more glory, Grace in Youth to see.  
Thou glory'st in thy beauty, stature, strength,  
Activity, wit, wealth, or : at length  
All these will fade, and fail thee: knowst how soon?  
Thy morning's past, and most will reach but noon.  
But what relate I these? thou glory'st in  
Horrid Impieties; thou boast'st of sin,  
Which might make thy bright Sun this minute set  
In everlasting Darkness: That's a Debt  
That dares Damnation: woos Eternal Death:  
Makes love to vengeance: shipwrecks Hope and Faith:  
Jeers God at's Nose; and deifies a sin,  
That scarce by mercy's self hath pardoned been.  
Forbear! forbear, young Hotspur! thy account  
Will one day to the vaster sum amount:  
For this doth double charge thy debts: and thou  
Art surely broke, unless thou learn to bow:  
It's better bow, then break: Bow, bow thee low;  
Humilitie's a Grace whose height none know,  
But the Lamb's lambs, whose pasture is Mount Zion:  
Who have thereby overcome the roaring Lion:  
It is a Star, that, fixed in Youth's high Sphere,  
Transcends the reach of each Astronomer:  
For none can take its Altitude, but he,  
Who's above all, and for whom all things be.  
Let thy Grand-Siegnior Will (that Turk-like sways  
Thy soul and body by tyrannic ways)  
Submit in all things to his Will Divine,  
Who gave thee Will, and all that else is thine:  
But if thou wilt not here submit unto't,  
Will'st thou, or nill'st thou, thou in Hell shalt do't.  
Take that from me: and take it for me too:  
Remember I have told thee what to do.   

An Epigram on the same.  
POst! why so fast? I've heard, haste seldom thrives;  
But he must needs go fast, whom Devil drives:  
Thy way is broad, smooth, plain, and fair to eye,  
Full with a foul fair-seeming company,  
Who bless themselves therein; yet (credit me)  
'Tis the great road to endless misery.  
Turn to the right-hand; that rough, narrow path  
Leads to the place, where joy no ending hath:  
The way is deep, but firm, keep on right forth:  
Creep where thou fearest to go; it's labour-worth:  
Creeping one hour, forwards thee in thy way  
More than thy galloping can in a day:  
And truth to say; though horse or foot may venture  
To climb, or claim, none but who creeps can enter:  
Yea, thou some creeping holes so straight may'st find  
As may require thy clothes to be resigned:  
But happy thou, if once thou canst get in,  
Though with the loss both of thy clothes and skin.   

Manhood.  
MAnhood, the Lion of our age, appear;  
When thou dost roar, all forest-beasts do fear.  
Youth's rashness is extinct: thou now hast got  
Judgement, with resolution, courage hot,  
And strength, with wit, to manage all things well  
For thy advantage: and (which doth excel)  
Wisdom, the crown of man: oh were't but true!  
But it's a carnal Idol, feigned show;  
A mere mock-wisdom; greatest foe to grace;  
An image dumb, raised in true wisdom's place:  
'Twere better far, that it demolished were:  
It must be so, ere t'other can appear;  
For shadows fly, where substances take place:  
So worldly wisdom vanisheth from Grace.  
There is a secret sad antipathy  
Betwixt these two: the one doth pine and die  
Where tother's entertained: and never any  
Can harbour both at once: 'twas one too many.  
But say thou'rt wise (if grant it needs we must)  
Pray wherein is't? surely to please a lust:  
Perhaps to scrape up cash, or purchase lands.  
Nay, say to conquer Crowns; to get commands:  
I cannot but at thy fond wisdom smile;  
Who getting These, dost lose thy Self the while.  
Who here are richest, highest, void of Grace,  
Shall have in Hell hereafter lowest place:  
These Phaeton's will soar an hour on high,  
Though for that hour they sink eternally:  
Too silly purchase for a fool to make:  
Ah leave thy wisdom for its folly's sake!  
Thou writ'st MAN; show thee so: for Man was made  
For his CREATOR's glory: But thy trade  
Drives wholly for Thine own: an empty bubble  
That brings to him dishonour, to thee trouble,  
Suspicions which entangle and besot  
With fears lest others wits should thine out-plot.  
And so with restless thoughts thou dost endear  
Thy pains to thee: thou wooest thy further fear:  
A jolly subject for man's soul (alone  
Inspired by God) to spend its spirits on.  
Doubtless (if truly weighed) the toys that please  
Young children, are not half so bad as these.  
Fie! fie! for shame renounce these fond devices;  
Whose poison is like that of Cockatrices:  
For Politician's plots kill whom they eye,  
Or kill themselves by prime-discovery;  
They play at Chess, and by each Check are crossed:  
But such a Checkmate yields their game quite lost:  
These are the Rooks, which on the Chessboard, Earth,  
Play seeming square: but mostly foil the mirth  
Of those whom they assault: who if they have  
A Bishop corner-wise to play the Knave,  
Will gave Cbeck-mate, unless the care be more  
Then oft hath been in games played heretofore.  
Lo-howe my Muse! what turned State-Muse at last?  
Come in, come in; thy Checks in flight are vast:  
From men, thou fliest to Chess-men, Bishops, Rooks:  
Why? all are men: It seems so by their looks:  
They are so serious playing on their game,  
Some for preferment, some for gain, some fame,  
For pleasure some; some for this, some for that;  
And some, for neither I, nor they know what.  
Cease man to play for trifles; I'll show skill  
In game for prize; make stakes: lay down thy will,  
I'll stake against it an immortal Crown:  
The way to win my stake's to lose thine own.  
Ungird the robes of sin that thee enfold:  
Cast off thy rags, and banish all that's old:  
Yea, empt' thyself of sin, to make thee light,  
Nimble to run a race, to fight a fight:  
But such a race, and fight (with help that's given)  
A child may run, may fight, and purchase Heaven.  
Cheer up; resolve; and thou shalt win the prize:  
Cut off thy hands, thy legs, pluck out thine eyes,  
And cast them from thee: thou the better far  
Shalt fight, run, see, and manage this great war,  
Wherein all flesh obstructs: God's Spirit alone  
Must guide thy course, and then the game is won.  
Employ thy strength, wit, wisdom, policies,  
Thee to assist 'gainst greatest Enemies:  
Their Generals are three, world, flesh and devil;  
These all have many instruments of evil,  
Their under-officers, who lie in lurch  
At home, abroad, in the house, in the Church,  
At board, in bed, yea every where, with eyes  
Most watchful for a time thee to surprise:  
Nay, they have Ambuscadoes laid within thee,  
Self against self suborned, thereby to win thee;  
Yet maugre all their cunning, they shall fall:  
Play but the man, and thou shalt foil them all.  
Thou hast a friend, in whom put confidence,  
(T●y elder brother) long since rapt from hence  
By their fell spite; which plot of theirs unnerved  
Their warlike powers, and for their conquest served:  
For he triumphed o'er their chief general:  
Him tongue-tied: manacled his hands withal.  
If thou by faith that friend canst cleave unto,  
They can have nothing more to say or do:  
Nothing to purpose; they may stir, or tempt,  
But never shall prevail: Thou art exempt  
From their enfeebled power: yet strive thou must  
Their false temptations all from thee to thrust:  
Fight them courageously unto the last;  
For from thy friend thou this commandment hast,  
Who looks it at thy hands; for though he did,  
And suffered, for thee (that which God forbidden  
Should have been left for thee to do, or bear,  
For than had all mankind been lost) forbear  
To turn his grace to wantonness; or spin  
Thy Christian liberty, to that of sin;  
That thread will break: and break the spinster too;  
For though Christ did enough, yet we must do  
That little that we can, to show our faith:  
Faith's dead where there's no fruit (as Scripture saith)  
And he did much, to win our imitation  
In second place, though first to work salvation.  
March on: march on, brave man! and trample down  
Thy sordid lusts, if thou expect the crown:  
Quench thy incensed passions; and overcome  
Thy lose affections: quick, begin at home  
This holy war: mortify thy corruptions:  
Then shalt thou fight untoiled with interruptions  
From inward cause: when self and flesh submits;  
The world and Devil assault by weaker fits:  
The homebred foes are they that most annoy  
Thy fair proceed, and obstruct thy joy:  
Subdue self fully once, and (I dare say)  
The rest will throw down arms, and run away.  
She is thy castle's porter, she lets in  
World, Devil and all, that may provoke to sin;  
Call self forth to the bar, thou needst not try her,  
She's both judged and condemned: go, crucify her.  
Methinks (as did Copernicus) I 'spy  
The world with all her trinkets round to fly  
At that brave sentence, Satan sneak away,  
As one that in the field hath lost the day,  
Like black Cur scared, with tail betwixt his legs,  
Seeing he sat abrood on addle eggs.  
Walk on, brave heart! now thou'rt a man indeed:  
Now thou hast done the work; no more than need:  
Hadst not, thou hadst for ever been undone;  
Run cheerly forth, thou'lt come to Heaven anon.   

An Epigram on the same.  
MAn, know thyself, and wherefore thou wert made:  
Not wealth to seek, or make deceit a trade:  
Deceit's a trade that will deceive at last  
Greatest Deceivers, when th'accounts are cast.  
If thou wilt needs deceive, deceive thy foes,  
(Who have and do deceive thee at thy nose)  
The devil, world and flesh, all three at once:  
I'll show thee how to do't, if thou have sconce.  
Thou hast two men within thee: (here's the skill)  
Cast out the old, and keep the new man still:  
This new-mans' scent alone, packs them for ever;  
'Twill conjure better than Tobiah's liver.   

Age.  
MAn's not stayed creature: Lo! he now appears  
Transformed from what he was: his hoary hairs  
And baldness show that Winter's near, when late  
'Twas but high harvest. Ceres (out of date)  
Pursues her sister Flora on with speed,  
Blow'th to bespeak of her, for next years seed.  
Thus times revolve, and then return: but man  
Review's no more what's past: the strongest can  
But one time have, and but once have that time;  
To Platonize, in Christians is a crime.  
Grave Sir! time presents only in your power,  
The past and future times are none of your:  
You can't the first recall, nor latter tell  
What it shall bring to pass: this you know well:  
If you but lose the present, your time's lost,  
Irrevocab'ly gone; nay more, 'Twill cost  
Your loss of labour, body, soul, and all,  
And that for ever: Oh! let this appal  
Your subtle heart; rouse your clogged memory  
Time to redeem, lest you eternally  
Rue that neglect: you're wise: pray therefore weigh  
How your state stands▪ for he that did convey  
All to you that you have, or can have here,  
Past it but for six days, not for a year:  
Four of the best expired, if rightly cast,  
Infancy, childhood, youth and manhood past;  
You now are in the fifth, at Fryday's stage;  
But Saturday left for your doting age;  
And that's half pain, half play, the schoolboys maze,  
And old men's too: for then their life's a blaze;  
Like a spent candle, which if let alone,  
Burns dim, than flashes, and is forthwith gone.  
But ah! look further; then comes on the day  
That should thy Sabbath be; the day of pay  
'Twill be to all: for all shall have their hire,  
As they deserve, though not as they desire:  
Who find it not a pleasure-day of rest,  
Find it a pain-day not to be expressed  
Oh then begin to think, and cast about  
With care how to work your salvation out.  
I know your care is great those things to save,  
Whereof no use at all you'll shortly have:  
You're penny-wise, pound-foolish: nay, much worse:  
You're body-wise, soul-foolish: O dire curse!  
You to advise (as others) were too bold:  
Might jealousy provoke; since you are old,  
Should I to you, Put off the old man, say,  
You'll think I bid you cast yourself away.  
That's a fond error: pray mistake me not:  
It will not shorten health or life a jot:  
Suppose the worst, if you should thereby die;  
'Twill screw your life up to eternity.  
Work: work your change: for now the days are near,  
Of which you'll say in sorrow, pain, and fear,  
I have no pleasure in them; when your sky,  
Sun, Moon, and Stars shall darkened be on high,  
And Clouds shall follow rain, House-k eepers tremble,  
The strong men bow themselves, and grinders nimble  
Through paucity shall cease, the window-peepers  
Be darkened, and the street-doors shut by keepers;  
When you shall undergo those other woes  
That Isr'el's royal preacher quaintly shows:  
Desire shall fail, your dust to earth return,  
Your soul to God, your carcase to the urn.  
'Twill be too late to work, when death's dark night  
Hath you envelopt, robbed of light, and sight;  
Sure none defer their work (but thriftless fools)  
Till dotage hath deprived them of their tools  
That they should work with: think you he that gave  
Men souls, and bodies, with endowments brave  
To do him service, can contented be  
In his foe's work them all employed to see?  
And take the Devil's glean? we such folly  
Would highly scorn: And can our God, most holly  
An wise, be so deluded? Man, remember,  
Thy year is almost past, it's high December:  
Work ne'er so hard, who'll give thee a years pay,  
To work for him 'twixt this and new-year's day?  
Yet God will do't, if thou wilt faithful prove,  
And serve him in true fear, with fraudless love:  
Give him thy heart; and less thou canst not give,  
Nor craves he more: So thou shalt surely live:  
Live, beyond date of death, or force of fear,  
Where nothing that offends shall more come near.  
What canst expect thy gain more to advance,  
Then thy life's change, for firm inheritance?  
Such an inheritance earth ne'er did see:  
Thy self thy everlasting heir shalt be:  
A better Lord was never tenant had,  
If thou refuse him, thou art worse than mad:  
He'll make thee co-heir with his own sole son,  
The Lord of Heaven and Earth, and with him one.  
Haste, haste; accept the motion whilst thou may'st:  
'Tis a cheap purchase, whatsoe'er thou payest:  
And he expects no more but thy old clothes,  
Thy carnal habits, which he likewise loathes,  
But will's thou cast them off; for he retains  
No servitor, on whom such rag remains:  
He'll cloth thee in white Robes of righteousness,  
Whose glory Cherubims cannot express:  
Add to the power he gives but thy endeavour,  
And thou shalt sit enthroned with him for ever.  
Quick; shift thy vestments; and go hid thee in  
Those splendent Robes; cast off thy rags of sin:  
Let lusts and passions a new Master get:  
Speed; lest thou be prevented by Sunset:  
Now; now's thy time to do't: for who doth know  
Whether thou shalt live a minute more, or no?  
This done, thou'lt reap invaluable gains:  
And I'll require but thanks for this my pains:  
Nay, if thou give me none, content I'll be,  
He for whose glory 'tis, will pay them me.   

Epigram.  
Grey Hair with graceless Heart! a guilded tomb!  
Greedy, yet fruitless, like a barren womb!  
It's Harvest high, and yet no fruit appears:  
This plague's far worse than Egypt's fruitless years:  
Those Harvests failed, but they had Grain in store;  
Here's no fruit now, nor hopes of any more.  
Yet sow good seed, and blow thy furrows deep:  
And thou shalt reap rich harvest in thy sleep.   

Dotage.  
AH! what a sight is here? a man turned child:  
Nay, infinitely worse: with sin defiled,  
Yet knows it not. See, proud rebellious Chit,  
Who vauntest of youth, strength, beauty, wisdom, wit,  
Health, and accursed Policy! weigh well  
This rue-ful spectacle, which might excel  
Thee in them all in time, but now bereft  
Of all by his own natures traitorous theft.  
Thou the same nature hast, of the same mould:  
And may'st be such perhaps ere half so old;  
Oh, pride thee not in these endowments so;  
Thou seest their frailty, how they come and go.  
This less than man, & worse than child, once thought  
He never should have to this pass been brought,  
Nor can believe he's so: which much augments  
His sad condition: utterly prevents  
His Reformation: makes him dote along  
In Hell's wide road, with a presumption strong,  
That he's in Heavens path, and knows the way  
As well's the best, and scorns to go astray:  
When he no more that way doth know or mind,  
Then newborn Infants know, or plod to find  
The Northwest passage to the Indies hence:  
However, if you'll him teach, he takes offence.  
Ah wayward, froward, and untoward man  
To God and all that's good! A Negro can  
L●ave his black skin unto a snow-white hue,  
Much sooner than man can himself renew.  
It's far more easy to make Earth change place,  
Then change corrupted Nature into Grace:  
'Tis madness to a truce to seek to win them;  
The quintessence of Opposition's in them;  
Cease therefore, self-deluding-man, to try  
To compass an impossibility  
Rouse up thy soul his powerful help to crave,  
Who is Almighty, and alone can save:  
Who only can such change as this effect;  
And all the fraud of thy false Heart detect,  
Whose Will perverse is greatest foe to grace;  
Cashier old Will and give new Will the place,  
This poor anatomy of man doth still  
Retain in height of strength its wont will,  
(Though totally of other strength deprived)  
And would retain that, if it were three-lived.  
Oh saddest sight! Let's view it once again;  
It's a mere Magazine of grief and pain:  
Mortalitie's Memorial here is limned  
Full to the life, and with Death's shadows trimmed:  
The snuff of man, half in, half out; if blown  
It seems the quicker, Is but quicker gone.  
Once it was man: now a mere living creature,  
Not perfect man, nor beast, of humane feature.  
You'll think I , to doatage thus to speak,  
Lest it miss-apprehend me: for it's weak,  
Yet wilful too: of reason quite bereft,  
Almost of sense: it hath no senses left  
Save pains-sense, unimpaired; few active, now,  
Unless you lingua, and nonsense allow  
For senses too (as some lose wits would have them  
In women) for their labour even beknave them.)  
Yet I to doaters on my harp may strike  
A note as well's to infants, much alike:  
But i'll speak fair. Father, you●… run the ring  
Of nature like a man (or some such thing)  
A child you crawled from earth, your mother's womb:  
Now are a child crawling to earth, your tomb:  
You're going whence you came: are what you were,  
Except that innocence, which did appear  
First in your soul, which sin deleted hath,  
And made you the old man; a child of wrath:  
'Twere better far you had continued still  
Such innocent: yet I can teach you skill  
How you more innocency may recover,  
If you'll re-act your child's pa●… rightly over.  
Weep hearty, and cry for your sins past,  
Neglect of duties, want of true forecast  
In your unlawful actions: and desire  
The Gospel's milk sincere: blow in the fire  
Of that small spark of grace that God affords  
Your half-extinguisht soul, and blaze records  
Of your true zeal, though weak: hug the sweet breasts  
Of divine consolation: make attests  
Of good desires, by lifting up your eyes  
And hands to him that gave them: let your cries  
Be for the bread of life: cast off the toys  
Of this deluding world: slight her false joys;  
Allot to alms the treasures earth affords;  
Chaunt out your tuneless songs, your phraseless words  
To his great glory, who such love hath shown  
To your poor soul, when you deserved none:  
Play with the babes of grace, and take delight  
In little children; such in God's pure sight:  
If any beat thee; to thy father cry;  
Thy moan to him brings certain remedy;  
Hang fast upon thy elder brother's neck:  
Kiss, kiss the Lamb, his Bride with garlands deck.  
Such plays content the soul: whereas your joys  
Unsatisfying are: yea sinful toys.  
Look on the se-ven candlesticks bright lights  
Insite in purest gold: joy in such sights:  
Reject world's worthless trifles: catch the crown  
To thee held forth; and so in peace lie down  
In earth's great cradle, hushed in silence shy,  
Where earthquakes rock, and winds sing lullaby:  
Till thy exciting by those trumpets blasts  
Who'll summon dead to life that ever lasts,  
In Resurrections morn; whose joys transcend,  
Immensly; void of measure, as of end.   

The Epigram.  
BRave man! what? doting now? who would have thought  
Thou to this market wouldst thy hogs have brought?  
Love is youth's doatage: make thy doatage love:  
Then  on, spare not, on the things above:  
They're worth thy doting on: and thou shalt see  
Thy doatage seeds spring to eternity.   

Death.  
GReat King of terrors! Sythe-man of the earth,  
Whose harvest rounds the year; thou ne'er hadst dearth  
Since the world first was peopled; nor shalt have,  
Till it unpeopled be: the silent grave  
Is thy headquarters, where all mankind keep  
Their gen'ral Rendezvouz lulled fast asleep  
In equal darkness, yet in quiet rest:  
There's no distinction of the worst from best;  
Great, small, friends, foes: all undisturbed ,  
Of Sympathy void, and Antipathy:  
Lay Calvin with Calvus, (a popish Priest)  
Their arguments a child may here untwist:  
Put Alexander into Codrus toomb,  
He'll never justle for more elbow-room.  
Cesar's with Pompey's dust will co-unite,  
As well as Jonathan's with David's might.  
Death is the truest Leveller, that smooths  
The lofti'st turrets with the lowest booths.  
No controversies in her court arise:  
No titles questioned there in any wise;  
The plaintiff and defendant there may lie  
In peace together, with their Lawyers by  
Each on both sides: as here perhaps they were  
Much to their prejudice; but not so there.  
The taxing soldier, and the taxed clown,  
Shall be joint-tenants when they here lie down  
In sweet, ungrumbling silence: landlords great  
And tenants poor, shall have a like estate  
In this demesnes: the Emperor, and groom  
Partake without precedency this room.  
No fears, or jealousies disturb their rests:  
No Herald needs to place this princes guests.  
'Tis a Decree in this great Court alone,  
TAKE PLACES AS YOU COME (or else have none.)  
Yet no distaste is taken, if it hap  
A beggar placed be in Caesar's lap.  
Death strikes with equal stroke: lays equal rates:  
All Adam's progeny with her are mates.  
More perfect order never yet hath been  
In any Monarch's Court that Earth hath seen.  
Say, Princess great, why is thy look so grim  
To what's mere man, being so fair and trim  
To gracious souls? it's but the fear of change  
That makes thee so: And yet (oh wonder strange!)  
Want of change caus'th that fear; man, hear my breath:  
Change but thyself, thou'lt ne'er fear change by death.  
Death's visage is a looking-glass, wherein  
Thou viewst thy foul deformity by sin:  
It's guilt of that, breeds fear of death in man,  
Whilst rinsed souls with joy embrace it can.  
See, see (besotted earthworm) who hast run  
The race of man, and nought but cobwebs spun:  
Sowed rotten seed: death thy race terminates,  
Cuts off thy warp: thy harvest antidates,  
And makes it dreadful, which might joyful be,  
If thou thy way of safety couldst but see.  
Death is a bond-mark-bridge to Heaven and Hell,  
On yonder side: On this, to earth as well;  
Three spacious Kingdoms; (yea the three and all)  
On this side are two roads which equal fall  
At the bridge-end, the roads of joy and woe,  
And every man in one of them doth go:  
On t'other side, two spacious Inns are built;  
The one for innocence, t'other for guilt,  
To entertain the Travellers that pass  
The former roads: In these, a boundless mass  
Of joys and woes, are treasured up in store,  
Where they shall joy, or mourn for evermore:  
Both Inns are at Bridge-end on t'other side:  
One hath a narrow gate, the other wide:  
Whoever in either enters, ne'er returns,  
But there eternally, or joys, or mourns.  
Joys road is narrow, rough, and thorny: woe's  
Broad, plain and smooth, wherein the whole world goes.  
Have care to choose thy path, and rightly judge,  
For there's no changing paths beyond the bridge,  
But each of all the numerous pilgrims throngs  
Lies in that Inn that to his path belongs,  
And there remains for ever: Heed thy walk:  
It's of concernment high whereof we talk:  
Tread the strait path, than death will be thy friend,  
And guide thee to joy's Inn at journey's end:  
For she presents the guests in both the places,  
And is chief Umpire in all doubtful cases:  
For many seem to walk in way of zeal,  
Whose specious shows do good opinion steal  
Even of the best; Yet (tried by death's true test)  
Lie down in sorrows Inn among the rest:  
Others (but few) may seem to walk the ways  
That lead to woe, whom death at last displays  
To be the joy-house guests, who there sit down,  
And for their crosses here, enjoy a crown.  
Death is both ferryman and boat, whereby  
We launch the Ocean of eternity:  
The Poets Charon, who doth waft alone  
Souls to Elysium, or to Acheron:  
It is the intermitting point whereby  
We time divide from perpetuity:  
Our time dies with us, though time's self remain  
Unto the time when we shall rise again.  
In brief, it's but a blank at life's line's end:  
To bad men, mortal foe; to good, a friend:  
It's amiable in a faithful eye,  
But horrible to Belial's progeny.  
Fond man! cease death to fear: make right thy heart;  
Faith steeps in Balsamum death's surest dart,  
Trans-forms its wounds to cures; for thou shalt live  
Eternally by the wound death doth give.   

The Epigram.  
PAle Princess! spare thy threats, we know thy force,  
Thou su'st the soul and bodies short divorce:  
It lasts but one night's rest, and that's a toy,  
For in the morning they shall meet with joy.  
Thou wounded'st once our brother, Lord and King,  
And in that wound drone-like didst lose thy sting:  
Now thou canst hurt no more; save such mad elves  
As bring thee a new sting to kill themselves.  
'Twere better for them death had kept his sting,  
Then they be stung to death by stings they bring.  
Though plain perire be a fate past jest,  
Pennis perire propriis grave est.   

Judgement.  
HArk! hark, rebellious man; the trumpet sounds  
Thy judgment-march: the earth for fear rebounds:  
Rocks rock: the mountains tremble: all the world  
Is ague-shook: into heart's passion hurled:  
Tellus keeps open house, the grave's unfraught:  
Thetis re-renders up the dead she caught;  
Both now their captives forth to judgement bring,  
Before the throne of heavens eternal King:  
They can't detain a dust of good, nor bad,  
But redeliver must whate'er they had.  
The rattling flames with horrid whirling roar,  
Drink up the Sea, and eat at once the shore:  
It's quite in vain to mountains now to cry,  
Or rocks to hid: they all like atoms fly  
Hence in the beams of fire-light. Oh! look, look;  
Sun, Moon and Stars, have Firmament forsaken;  
They fall like mellow fruit in blustering storms:  
The spheres are shrivelled up, and lose their forms.  
The Elements do melt; the fixed Stars  
Fall down pell-mell, as soldiers drop in wars;  
The Heavens can no canopy afford,  
No curtain thee to hid: for (in a word)  
Both Heaven and earth are nonplused at this blast,  
And shall together in new moulds be cast:  
thou'rt past advising now: appear thou must,  
Thy sentence to receive, which will be just:  
That's all thy comfort: and small comfort 'tis  
To those who in this life have done amiss:  
For all accounts shall here be fully cast,  
And each man have full pay for labour past.  
See yonder where the Judges books are come,  
Whereby, he judges, and will pay all home,  
According as appears by those records,  
Whose counterparts thy own scared soul affords,  
And still hath kept, locked up in conscience-chest,  
But now must bring them forth among the rest:  
Both she, and thou, and all know, all is true  
In those records: so there needs no review:  
Sentence will soon be passed: the judge will say  
To you of his left-handed herd, Away;  
Depart from me, ye cursed, into fire  
That lasts for ever, fitted for your Sire  
The Devil, and his Angels: Oh sad doom!  
Yet ne'er to be revoked for time to come.  
Were't but to death, or to annihilation,  
The pains would end by senses deprivation:  
But in these torments, life and sense remain,  
Yet neither life, nor sense, save those of pain;  
Pains measureless, and endless poured on thee,  
Where wronged mercy, will most cruel be.  
Millions of ages past, thy pains appear  
As far from end, as when thou first waste there:  
Their measure is as much as Devils can  
Devise of torment, to inflict on Man:  
Or an Almighty God can storm on those,  
Who have declared themselves his mortal Foes:  
There needs no more be spoke: Ah wretched wight!  
Think on this day, before eternal night  
Prevent thy thinking on't, by being in't:  
Fence off the blow, before thou feel the dint:  
It's true in God's, as well's in Nature's school,  
QUIS EXPECTAVIT is a cure-less fool:  
If hearing man be told that death is nigh,  
And scorns to heed it, he must surely die.  
Heed, heed thy way of peace, in this thy time:  
Repent each former, eat each future crime:  
Redeem thy time to come: (none can what's past)  
Spend thy first hour, as if it were thy last:  
Think still thou dost the trumps loud summons hear,  
ARISE you Dead, to Judgement quick appear.  
With penitential water lave the blurs  
That in thy book appear: Make no demurs  
In thy great suit for pardon: get it out  
With restless speed: in thy proceed doubt  
Lest Error be in thy Original,  
Or any other Writ; and make sure all,  
As thou go'st on: cast often thy account,  
And see to what thy sums received amount,  
And how expended: what thou see'st amiss,  
Amend in future by more carefulness:  
For past debts, take Repentances keen knife,  
And raze them out: then (to avoid all strife)  
Smooth it with Faith's rough pummices, over and over:  
Thy Creditor never will charge it more:  
This play seems foul, but is not: though he know  
Thy crafty trick, he loves to have it so:  
And (though such tricks may Merchants seem to slain  
It both augments his glory, and thy gain.  
Now shall the Earth-amazing Doomsday be  
A day of joy and comfort unto thee:  
Thy hearts chief solace in the saddest fits,  
Whose thoughts might formerly have scared thy wits.  
Look how the chased Hart desires the Brooks,  
The blind God's Herd their living Idols looks;  
As Mariners nigh shipwrecked wish for shore,  
Or tired Schoolboys learning to give over;  
As poor deserted Souls for faith do long,  
The faithful for Plerophory▪ so strong  
Will thy desires, wishes, and long be  
To see that day, once terrible to thee.  
Thy soul (once thus sublimed) will ever cry  
With yerning Bowels, Come, Lord Jesus; Hie:  
And with the Spirit and the Bride will say,  
Come, come, Lord, quickly, (while it is to day)  
That Trump whose very thought the world doth fray,  
Will be thy Cockcrow to eternal day.   

The Epigram.  
STout Man! why quakest to think on this days sound?  
Thy fear doth from thy inward guilt redound:  
Sweep clean thy conscience: mundify thy Heart:  
Through-captivate thy will to his, whose art  
Of love, did thee redeem; thence Judgements trump,  
Will cheer thy soul, whose thought now doth it dump:  
At this Assizes fear not to appear:  
The Judge will read thy Neck-Verse for thee here:  
Plead guilty, and condemn thyself before:  
Confess, and so be saved for evermore.  
Lord, what vast difference herein appear'th,  
Betwixt thy Laws of Heaven, and ours of earth!   

Hell.  
HOrrid'st of Creatures! who waste solely made  
To please Eternal Justice: thy black shade  
Abounds with Contradictions: freezing fires,  
With torrid chillness; Infinite desires,  
Void of the least attainments: Howling themes  
Composed all of Exordiums: fiery beams  
Flashing, yet light-less. This school's Alphabet  
Abjures Omega: they who there are met  
To roar out Palinodes, and Elegies,  
Are still beginning: Cain (if there he lies)  
Is no whit farther in his lesson come,  
Then he that last went hence to that sad home:  
Nay, Lucifer, grand-paedagogue of all,  
Hath not learned A. B. C. since his first fall:  
Though our, and his great Master taught him better,  
The Dullard is not yet past the first letter:  
His lesson's now as far from learning out,  
As 'twas when first he trooped the Angel-rout  
Into Rebellion: and the Lesson's dire;  
'Tis woe and lamentations, in a fire  
Tormenting, not consuming: burning still:  
Still killing, yet doth never fully kill:  
Eternal labour, with eternal loss;  
Uncessant cares, and yet uncessant cross:  
A death-less death, a life-less life remains,  
Which multiplies the terror of the pains;  
Measureless, endless, hapless, hopeless fate!  
Whoever comes here, finds it too soon, too late:  
Too soon to sense the pain: but to prevent  
That sense too late, since too late to repent.  
Ah, careless, cureless, heedless, headless man!  
Leap not into the fire, out of the pan:  
Whilst here Afflictions Cauldron thou dost shun,  
Thou darest Hell, and so art quite undone:  
Temporal crosses may be better born  
Then those eternal: do not counsel scorn  
That's good, and given gratis: strike thy sails;  
Stoop thy top-gallant, Will: it nought avails,  
Poor Sculler, these to mount in a Bravado,  
When he's in vironed with a strong Armado:  
If thou stand out, thou'rt sunk and lost for ever:  
Submit, submit: to change thy will endeavour:  
Look ere thou leap, thy foot is at pits brink:  
Move but a hairs-breadth forward, thou must sink,  
And sink eternally: see here the Chasm,  
Against whose wounds there is no Cataplasm:  
Who falls here, wounded is beyond all cure;  
And must beyond all time, his pains endure:  
This Dungeon, hath nor joy, nor rest, nor ease,  
Nor comforts, nor a hope of aught like these:  
But desperation of them, and assurance  
Of perpetuity of pain's endurance.  
View! view, (bewitched man) this place of woe;  
Jehovah's Magazine of Terror: Lo,  
This Den from beatific Vision is  
Eccentric: quite exterminate from bliss:  
Its Guests all captive mourners, who delight  
Each other to torment, and to affright:  
Mutual Assassinates, and merciless:  
Unsatiate in fiercest cruelness:  
Whose hideous howl, raving, roaring cries,  
Gnashing of teeth, loud shrieks, would rend the skies:  
Shake all the earth to shivers: melt proud man  
Into a flood of tears: make beauty wan,  
Strength feeble, and his specious frame dissolve  
To nothing, once to hear them. Oh! revolve  
This frequently in heart, lest Hell's dark flame  
(The thought whereof should wildest Mortals tame)  
Prove the first light that gives thee sight of sin,  
And sense of second death: when once thou'rt in,  
There's no Redemption: Penitence too late,  
Will but increase thy torment, not abate.  
Here shalt thou see Nimrod's stern progeny  
Tyrannised over, as they loved tyranny;  
Gygantick Cyclops may tormented be  
By Pygmy fiends, t'augment their misery.  
The pompous Dives there shall not command  
One drop of water from a Lazar's hand,  
Nor it obtain, yet begging hearty,  
To cool his parched tongue, although it fry.  
Abaddon, and Apoll'on here do reign,  
Great Lords of misrule o'er the damned train,  
'Mongst whom confusion is the perfectest order,  
And greatest mercy worse than horrid'st murder:  
Where Lucifer and Beelzebub now lie,  
Inflicting pains, and pained eternally:  
These lapsed Angels, knowing their own fate  
Irrevocable, are incensed with hate  
Against both God and man: but wanting power  
God to infest, they seek man to devour:  
Whom living, they by flattery strive to win,  
But dead, torment most justly for his sin.  
Their first plot is, God's image to deface  
Once stamped on us, now re-ingraved by grace,  
Since our base forfeitute of that great favour  
In Paradise, by breach of good behaviour:  
Whilst sweet redemption crushed that cursed design,  
They now do reinforce to undermine  
Us by our nearest friends, the world and flesh,  
Yea, self on self fiercely assaults afresh;  
And did not an Almighty power defend us,  
These our three friends to those our foes would send us▪  
Blessed Redeemer! with thy banner shield us▪  
Oh let thy Spirit still assistance yield us  
Against those subtle falsehoods, fly devices  
Whereby Hell's regent our poor souls entices;  
Confound his plots, and by thy grace relieve us,  
And from this dismal dungeon Lord reprieve us.   

The Epigram.  
SE● man thy creatures' creature; this cursed place  
Of endless torment: thy sweet meats sour sauce;  
Thy honey's gall: house of thy sins foundation:  
Tophet, the cell of thy deserved damnation.  
Critical Atheists have a question stirred,  
Where it should be: thereto wise men demurred:  
But i'll resolve that doubt: whoever thou be,  
Atheist, approach and feel, draw near and see,  
And doubtless thou shalt have full satisfaction  
For thy nice question and each godless action.  
thou'rt right i'th' way: no guide needs: yet know this,  
Death will most surely show thee where it is.   

Heaven.  
ETernal Majesty, who here dost reign!  
My Muse assistance by thy Spirit deign:  
In mercy pardon this my bold adventure,  
The holiest of holies thus to enter:  
Oh! circumcise my heart: my foul lips touch  
With thy great Altar's coal, ere I approach  
Thy honour's dwelling: Sanctify my verse:  
Let this its Our ano-graphy rehearse  
Soul-charming strains, that ravish may with love  
Myself, and others, of the things above.  
I kiss thy threshold, Lord, and so creep in,  
where's no approach for aught defiled with sin:  
Not that i'm pure, but foul: yet purged clear,  
Lo, Lord, my sacrifice and Priest are here  
At thy right hand of glory, with thee one:  
The glory both of thy right hand and throne,  
The wonder of thy mercy, love and grace:  
Who bears all Heaven's joys summed in his face:  
The Heaven of Heaven: Men cannot wish more bliss,  
Then to behold thy sacred face, and his,  
Though but a moment: who such sight might have,  
Would hug the silent hushtness of the grave;  
Kiss death; yea, woe Hell's self, on the condition,  
(When time's spent to the snuff) to have fruition  
Of that transcendent joy. Oh grace divine!  
Incomprehensible, save by the Tri'ne!  
It forc'th my tongue-tied Muse (rapt with delight)  
To stutter forth a far-short Epithet.  
Oh su-per-su-per-su-su-per-la-tive  
Stupendious Love! Into whose depth to dive,  
Would nonplus heavens Angelic Hierarchy;  
Wonder-strike all the Saints to Lethargy:  
Yet (as if these essentials of that joy  
Were too too small for mankind to enjoy,  
Too slight a guerdon for a sinful worm,  
Whose sting death-stung the Lord of Life, whose form  
First most divine, is self-deformed by guilt)  
God for augmenting circumstantials built  
This New Jerusalem, Joys splendid throne:  
A City whose high walls are precious stone:  
Her streets transparent gold: her unshut gates  
Of Orient pearls, all of valued rates:  
Where needs nor Sun by day, nor Moon by night,  
For God's great glory gives eternal light:  
The Lamb's the Lamp thereof: within it walk  
Earth's saved Tribes, whose music, and whose talk  
Are Alleluiahs: whose white Robes out vie  
The purest snow in candour: such no eye  
Of Mortal ever saw; nor heart of man  
Can half conceive: where Jesus leads the Van  
Of sacred Myriad, host of Lord of hosts,  
With millions of Angels for the posts  
And scouts of that Celestial Army, graced  
With many thousand-thousand Kings; all placed  
In thrones of glory, crowned with endless peace,  
And sceptred with triumphant Palms: where cease  
All oppositions to eternity:  
For all their Enemies subdued lie  
Chained up in deathless flames, in sulph'ry smother,  
Tormenting, and tormented by each other:  
Doomed to so horrid and immense a curse,  
As God himself can wish his Foes no worse.  
But what need Joys Antipathetical,  
Where Sympathetical drown heart and all,  
In sweet satiety, and pleasing fullness,  
Blessedly voided of nauseating dulness?  
This feast's cates cloy not, ne'er so freely ta'en,  
The Guests need fear no surfeiting, or bane:  
Yet it's a lasting, everlasting feast;  
Like free for all, the greatest or the least.  
Here winged Cherubims bring in the Guests  
From all Earth's quarters, after Death's arrests:  
That Vinegar prepares their appetites  
To feed on unexpressible delights:  
For that's God's wont way, (as all Saints know)  
Who'll feast above, must taste sour sauce below.  
Afflictions are Preparatives to bliss:  
Who rightly bear one, rarely t'other miss;  
I might say, never. Lord! what fools are we,  
Whom sense misseads to dote on what we see,  
Hear, feel, smell, taste, with Organs physical?  
Sense-comforts have Soul-poyson in them all:  
The Spider sucks them thence: and heedless Bees  
Fixing on them, their 'fore-got honey lose,  
And labour too. Avaunt,! avaunt, dear souls!  
Let Faith's bright eye aspire beyond the Poles,  
And view those everlasting Mansions there,  
Void of disturbance, anguish, care or fear,  
Of all that discontents, all that annoys:  
And full refert with boundless, endless joys.  
Here the celestial choristers declare  
Their maker's glory, chanting hymns most rare  
Sweet odes and Epithalamies they'll sing,  
To celebrate the nuptials of their king:  
Mount Sion's Lamb, Lion of Judah's tribe;  
Whose blessed inauguration they'll describe  
In soul-amazing notes, that ravish quite  
All ears with sweet excess of choice delight;  
The Heaven, and Heaven of Heaven's ring with peals  
Of acclamations at the opened seals:  
The mystery of God fulfilled they'll see,  
And joy therein to all eternity.  
Methinks I hear the most melodious songs,  
The none-such ditties warbled by those throngs:  
My towering soul transmounts the cast back skies,  
Sensing (in her degree) those rhapsodies,  
Hyper-noetick strains, that quite transform  
My lowly muse into a lofty form:  
Make nature lethe-drunk: inflame my heart  
With restless longing there to bear a part,  
Where who the least part bears, shall bear a weight  
Of countless, endless glory, great, yet light:  
A crowning burden burthenless: who bear  
The Cross right here, shall there the crown right wear;  
An Amarantine Crown of glory, lasting  
Further beyond, then 'tis to everlasting.  
Lord! why doth this dull lump of earth detain  
My mounting soul from their consort that reign  
With thee in glory? I should groan to be  
Dissolved, that I thy presence bright might see,  
Whereof a glimpse I spy: but sinful flesh  
Still conjures up desires of life afresh;  
Of life not worth desiring, now I view  
The difference 'twixt it and this that's true.  
True life is only here: our life below  
Is but a mock-life, merely life in show,  
But real death. Lord, that I here might stay  
And wait at my Redeemer's feet for ay!  
But ah! it cannot be; I must descend  
And re-invested be in flesh, to end  
My task by thee appointed me beneath,  
Till (summoned by thy Pursuivant grim death,  
Or judgement's change) I reappear before  
Thy throne, to be with thee for evermore.  
Dear God, in mercy dangers all prevent  
That may affayl my soul in this descent;  
From sin-defilement keep her pure and free,  
And then thy will be done (O Lord) on me.  
Yet ah! i'm loath to part: my soul much fear'th  
To fall from highest heaven, to lowest earth:  
Guide me, and her (Lord) while we there remain,  
And then ere long, we shall return again.   

The Epigram.  
OH! what all-dazling lustre's here? whose bright  
Corruscancy deprives all eyes of sight,  
All tongues of words expressive, and all hearts  
Of comprehensive thoughts? all these weak parts  
Are stupefied hereat: yet this great throne  
Was made for worthless man's fruition.  
What miracles hath mercy more to do?  
What! forgive sins! give sinner's heaven too!  
There needs no more of mercy for man's lot;  
Get heaven, and get all that need be got.  
Of getting other things learn the forgetting,  
For when all's got, heavens all that's worth the getting.   

Valedictio vanitatibus.  

1.  
FArewel (fond Cupid) with thy gamesome pleasure,  
Childhood, and youth enchanting▪  
Whose self-betraying leisure  
Thy paths of vanity is always haunting,  
And whose fanatic souls,  
Like Dotterels, (those foolish fowls)  
Are caught by imitation,  
And trained to death by doting on the fashion.   

2.  
Honour! Our manhood's bubble and her bauble  
Charming us with vainglory,  
To seek what is not stable,  
And dare damnation for fame transitory:  
Chameleon-like to live,  
By airy praise that others give,  
And slight our souls salvation:  
Farewell, there's danger in so high a station.   

3.  
Farewell, old Ages folly, cheating treasure!  
False debity of worldly wife:  
Who crave that past all measure  
Which needless is: What most they need, despise;  
Who Ant-like without rest▪  
Labour to fill their borrowed nest,  
Then Cuckoo-like leave unto stranger's  
Eggs, nest and all, to find eternal dangers.    

I must acknowledge the ensuing-valedictions to be unto more relations than I ever had at one and the same time in being: But (aiming to express (according to my low power) the nothingness in worth of our temporal to our eternal enjoyments) at sight of the blessed society above: I have briefly and abruptly bid farewell to all below. Amen.  
Sequuntur Quatuordecem Valedictionis Quatuordecimales.  

1. To the World, and its Inhabitants.  

FArewel my fellow-citizens of Earth,  
Frail self-like Mortals, made of flesh and blood,  
Whose greatest fear's death, sickness, war, and dearth!  
Though you I love, I'll leave your Neighbourhood:  
For I am bend for new discoveries:  
My faith another world hath in her eye,  
Far situate beyond the azure skies,  
Whose subjects all are Saints; thither go I:  
There shall this drossy flesh and blood (refined)  
Immortal grow, and free from all your fears:  
Where (whilst my Saviour's presence cheers my mind)  
My heart shall vent no sighs, my eyes no tears:  

But filled with joy, from age to age I'll sing  
Sweet Alleluiahs to my God and King.     

2. To Europe, and Europaeans.  

FArewel my worldly fellow-quarterers,  
Placed in the Earth's Right eye, by grace divine,  
Who gives more knowledge to thy sojourners,  
Then to all quarters else, where Sol doth shine;  
Ye are most civilised of all the rest  
Of this world's pilgrims: though proud China boast  
Of her two eyes, compared with thee, at best  
She must confess at least one of them lost.  
I must remove my quarters, (though so good)  
For I have took up new beyond the poles,  
Dear-purchased by my General's heartblood;  
To those that quarter there, you're blind as moles.  

There I shall know, as I am known, and be  
Perfect in Knowledge to Eternity.     

3. To Britain, and Britain's.  

FArewel dear Countrymen, heavens Paramours!  
For God hath choicest blessings heaped on you  
Beyond all other lands: That Isle of yours  
Earth's Cornucopia may be likened to,  
Wherein are all things needful for man's life:  
Plenty of most. But oh! the means of grace  
By Gospel-Ministers (though now at strife)  
So plentiful in no Land ever was.  
But I must take my leave, lest your dissension  
About the way to life, should error breed  
In my frail heart: i'll therefore (for prevention)  
To everlasting unity with speed.  

To Grace's Crown of glory I ascend:  
What needs the means, when 've attained the end?     

4. To Shire-mates.  

FArewel my Shire-mates, whom this Isle's division  
Hath neighbourized to me, and me to you:  
Whose rights have in one Counties Courts decision,  
Peace to maintain, and to give each his due!  
Native vicinity commands my love:  
Yet I must traverse all my actions hence;  
I'll get out an injunction from above,  
To try at God's tribunal each offence:  
There I a righteous Chancery shall find,  
Yet have my Judge, my advocate to be,  
And have no costs unto my foe assigned,  
The Playntiff Satan, who impleadeth me  

On trespasses oft done against the Judge,  
Who will release me: pray then who can grudge?     

5. To Parishioners.  

FArewel Parochial Neighbours, whom this Nation  
By custom in one Register inrols,  
And hath held of one Church, one Congregation,  
And chosen one for Curate of our souls!  
These civil ties, and neighbourhood, endear  
You much to me: But I must from you part;  
Amongst you I of Schism and faction fear,  
Another Congregation hath my heart,  
Where one-ness indivisible appears,  
Whose Curate is the Bishop of our souls,  
Melchizedeck, whose flock is free from fears  
Of Wolf, or Fox, of ravenous beasts, and fouls,  

Yet guarded by a Lamb, whose song we'll sing  
With Saints and Angels, till the heaven's ring.     

6. To Servants.  

FArewel my Servants! for my Covenant  
Requires me to departed: mourn not for me;  
For your attendance I no more shall want:  
Your Master and mine own I go to see:  
I must confess, a truant I have been,  
And in his service faith-less, dull and dead:  
Yet he hath sworn he'll pay my wages in,  
If I but with his only Son will wed.  
Serve I him but the twinkling of an eye,  
I shall have wages paid eternally:  
His Debtor deep and desperate was I,  
Who sent his Son to die to ransom me.  

Oh love! stronger than death! my soul, away,  
Make speed, lest thy dear Master for thee stay.     

7. To familiar acquaintance.  

FArewel acquaintance! I'll acquaint you where  
Are better to be got than you and I:  
I'll challenge you to dare to meet me there,  
And promise you rich fare and melody:  
Ambrosia, Nectar, and the Poet's cates  
Are husks, and gall, to that celestial fare:  
The Spheres harmonious music jars and grates,  
To their Diviner Quavers warbled there:  
Where no associates we so base shall find  
As Earth's most potent King or Emperor;  
True joy shall fill the body, soul, and mind  
With contentation lasting evermore.  

What poor society doth earth afford!  
Draw up my heart of steel, dear loadstone Lord.     

8. To intimate friends.  

FArewel my mind's embosom'd darlings dear,  
'Mongst whom one heart may many bodies serve,  
And act unitely in them all! It's clear,  
I highly prise your love: Yet needs must swerve  
From hugging your enjoyment: for I'm called  
By the great friend of friends, the god of love,  
With his triumphant friends to be installed  
In Love's great Principality above.  
The King of Kings commands me: I must hence,  
To more, and greater friends, than Earth affords:  
Detain me not: Nor count this an offence,  
If I cease to be yours, to be the Lords.  

I'll be both his and yours, if you'll his be;  
And you in him again shall meet with me.     

9 To Brothers, Sisters and Kindred.  

FArewel my flesh and blood, my kindred here!  
Our homogeneal parts at first were one,  
Till rib-made Eve made two, (who still one were)  
Millions of millions now in number grown:  
Adieu t'ye all, but most to those most near:  
I have attained new consanguinity  
All of my elder Brother's blood (d'ye hear?)  
Yet not of mine, but of divine affinity:  
A breed of quondam men, now glorified,  
Who sing sweet Requiems eternally  
To their enthroned souls: not to be eyed  
By Mortals optics; where the starry Sky  

Their footstool is: their seat the glorious flore  
Of his great Throne, that reigns for evermore.     

10. To Father.  

FArewel my being's instrumental Cause,  
Assigned by him from whom all beings flow,  
Who my new Father is, and old one was,  
Ere you were so! methinks my heart doth grow  
With grief to part: But yet part needs I must  
From all relations that heavens Canopy  
Surrounds, to find the merciful and just,  
Who's Father to us all: whose Progeny  
Are all mankind: whose wonderful affection  
By his Son's blood redeemed me: who before,  
Made love sole ground of my poor souls election:  
For which I'll sing his praise for evermore.  

Father! if you are loath I gone should be;  
Come but to him, you'll surely come to me.     

11. To Mother.  

FArewel dear mould, where in my mortal clay  
First by th'eternal potter form was!  
In pain that badst me nine months' night and day,  
And after grievous travel, gav'st me pass  
Into this vale of tears! thy torments bind  
Me to a boundless love: yet wonder not  
If I now leave thee, for a new I find,  
Who hath me born again since 'twas thy lot;  
A mother militant, who hath prepared  
A third triumphant for me, who doth dwell  
Where never to approach a foe yet dared,  
Above the fear and spite of Earth and Hell.  

Oh let me fly: and haste thee after me;  
For she to both of us will mother be.     

12. To Children.  

FArewel sweet implings, quick Epitomes  
Of me and my dear second! I must leave  
Your loved society: death's Writ of Ease  
Doth me remove, yet not of life bereave:  
That's lengthened by my change: you I commit  
Unto a faithful guardian, yea a father  
To me and you, with whom I go to sit  
In everlasting glory: who will gather  
You all to me again, when his time comes:  
Only be faithful to the death, and he  
Will give you crowns of life, when your blessed homes  
Shall be th'imperial Heaven, where with me,  

With Angels, Saints and Martyr's crowned throng,  
You'll sing for ever Sion's Lamb's sweet song.     

13. To Wife.  

FArewel my better half, life of my life,  
And sub-celestial comforts; we must cleave  
One heart in two at parting (dearest wife)  
As we made one of two at meeting: leave:  
Spare those heart-melting cries, those thriftless tears,  
Thy frailties to bewail: in those streams swim  
Home to thy harbour where my faith me bears:  
There my Bridegroom and thine doth mansions trim  
For us with everlasting ornaments;  
With whom we both shall newly married be,  
And reign eternally filled with contents,  
Passing what heart can think, ear hear, eye see.  

I do but go before, and thee expect,  
Among the number of the Lord's Elect.     

14. To all Jointly.  

FArewel World, Europe, Britain, native Shire,  
And Parish too, servants, acquaintance, fri●…ds,  
Kindred, with Father, Mother, children dear,  
And dearest Wise! have all contented minds:  
For I am to so high preferment called,  
That (if you loved me) you would urge me on,  
To haste away, that I may be installed  
A death-less prince, crowned King by him whose throne  
Is over all: whose Sceptre sways at once,  
Heaven, Earth and Hell, with their inhabitants.  
That Triple Crown that girts the pride-puft sconce  
Of Antichrist (who there of falsely vaunts)  

Is this Kings right alone, styled in truth's words  
The only King of Kings, and Lord of Lords.      

The Charge.  
BRitain, thy glory's sunk; swollen are thy sins,  
To an o'erwhelming torrent, that gins  
Thee to overwhelm; thy erst indulgent God  
Hath turned his hand against thee: see; his rod  
Gins to whip thy follies, whose dread sword  
Did lately fight thy battles: whose pure word  
Made the earth's Goshen; thou beginnest to grope  
In an Egyptian darkness; many hope  
To see th' unbottomed pits black mists o'ercloud  
Thy splendent Sun: yea, thy own sons have vowed  
To put out that great light, to raise thereby  
Their ignis fatuus light of fantasy.  
Father of lights, frustrate their cursed design;  
The comfort shall be ours, but glory thine:  
Let not the pit's black torches smoky fumes  
Eclipse thy Sunshine here, though he presumes  
To see it so, who is the man of sin,  
Who among us those false fires ushered in,  
To light us on to darkness: Lord return  
Those fires into his bosom; let them burn  
Mysterious Babylon; their heat calcine  
The scarlet whore, and beast, to ashes fine:  
Their light discover Antichrist to all:  
That they and their false fires together fall  
Quenched in eternal flames; and then on high,  
And here beneath, thy Church shall glorify  
Thy awful name. But (ah Lord) we betray  
Ourselves to them by sin; wildly display  
Our nakedness; and what defects we have.  
Thy hand's not shortened, that it cannot save:  
Nor thine ear heavy, that it will not hear:  
But our iniquities (O God most dear)  
Have separated us from thee; our sins  
Have stocked our feet in their intangling gins;  
Our gross abominations in thy sight,  
Have thee provoked to take from us the light,  
That we so long unworthily enjoyed:  
Thanklesly too; which made the favour void:  
Our disesteeming of thy sacred light;  
Perverting it to doctrines of the night,  
To schisms, and errors, heresies and factions,  
Have justly brought on us these sad distractions:  
And since so many of us dare to scoffed it,  
Thou justly may'st henceforth deprive us of it;  
Thou may'st remove our candlestick to those  
Who'll bring forth better fruit than our vain shows,  
Our painted leaves and blossoms, which descry,  
Our faith but feigned, our zeal hypocrisy;  
Provoke thy patience to fierce wrath's effusion:  
And woe thy vengeance to our own confusion.  
But Lord forbidden, forbidden dear God the sins  
Of us poor nothings, who have nothing in's  
But sin and folly, ever should outvie  
Thy boundless mercy; force thee to defy  
Fond weakling worms (yet thy own creatures Lord,  
Create ', Redeemed, preserved by thy word,  
And those whom thou hast loved.) Oh rather turn  
Us from our sins to thee (for them to mourn)  
Than thee from us, to view them, and in wrath  
For them to punish: Lord, thy mercy hath  
Ways to prevent thy justice; and can give  
Light unto all, that all may see to live,  
Hoping to live to see the gen'ral call  
Of nations to the light, by all in all,  
Who shall have all the glory that redounds  
Echoed from heavens and earth's remotest bounds:  
And when all other Kingdoms are o'erthrown,  
Power and dominion shall be all his own;  
Which hasten Lord, that we may see with joy  
To thine Elect, and to their foes annoy:  
And oh prepare us for that glorious day,  
Turn us from each perverse and crooked way  
Wherein we wander: fit this Island's guests  
For thy bright coming, and for the arrests  
Of death and judgement, that whate'er befall,  
The glory may be thine, joy ours, in all.  
But Lord, our sins have at such height o'erbore us,  
That they transcend all Nations passed before us:  
It well may make (at sight of our base pride)  
Lucifer blush to see himself outvied.  
And we have those, (by us'ry and oppression)  
Who would wrest Mammon's self out of possession:  
Fraud and deceit to such a height are grown,  
That most men it for their profession own;  
And many more, whose words do it defy,  
Do in their practice give themselves the lie.  
Achitophel (if living now) would be  
An ass to most in wicked policy.  
Joab a man of mercy would appear  
Among such bloodhounds as have lived here.  
And Absalon a most obedient son,  
Compared with ours; who wilder courses run.  
Drunken King Elah would too civil be,  
By far, for modern Roarers company.  
Lot's drunken Incest which he doubled in,  
Have we outvied, as a small venial sin.  
Yea, Sodomy is proved a puisne crime:  
For many have committed in our time  
Foul Rapes on Beasts, some of the wrong sex too;  
Nay, acts with Devils, (as mostly witches do,)  
Whose seed's not only Molech's sacrifice,  
But Beelzebub's, the Prince of fiends and flies.  
And we have those whose Concubines are more  
Than Solomon's: for all his regal store.  
But oh our female's lust! we women have,  
Who, were each hair upon their head a knave,  
Would find all wicked work; who change desire  
To quench th' unsated flames of lustful fire.  
Heliogabalus was temperate;  
Nero, a Prince of mercies, to who late  
Have swayed these Isles. Plague-soars have quite o'erspread  
The body politic from foot to head:  
Oppressors swarm; and brother against brother  
Do act the Devil's part upon each other;  
And by an uncouth way, sublimed deceit  
Hath taught the smaller to oppess the great;  
As true as strange, though mostly undescryed:  
For poorer sort have (to maintain their pride,)  
Inhaunsed their price of hire; yet lessen still  
Their daily labour; both are what they will:  
No past age heard the like preposterous curse,  
Bred by proud heart, wedded to beggar's purse:  
A subtle downright theft: yet lawful held;  
Satan hath so this generation spelled,  
Charmed, and deluded, that most part believe,  
It's charity and wisdom to deceive;  
And (truth to say) the rich so cruel be,  
So void of mercy, and humanity  
Towards the poor, that both all conscience smother,  
And God doth justly plague them each by other.  
Yea, all degrees amongst us are perverted  
From God and good; and grown so stubborn hearted,  
In their own ways: So self-ishly inclined,  
So headstrong, wilful; each will have his mind,  
Though thereby all should be undone, they knew,  
And universal ruin should ensue.  
Our Princes are like Rampant Lions grown,  
Seizing on poor men's right, as if their own:  
Their Courts have theatres of vices been,  
Where Devils incarnate made a sport of sin:  
Where, pride and luxury, sloth and excess,  
With emulation, envy, drunkenness,  
And hypocritick flattery, was taught,  
Yea where men's blood was often sold and bought:  
Where God's name was profaned, his worship scorned,  
Or mungrellized by those the beast suborned  
To puddle our pure streams, and turn their course  
From truth to error, and from that to worse.  
Our Peers have been like Judah's Peers of old,  
When Joash reigned; of whom thy word hath told,  
That they by flatteries the King seduced  
From thy true worship (which before he used)  
To groves and Idols: and not to attend,  
When God to him his prophets oft did send;  
They have been proud, luxurious, avaricious,  
And prone to bribery, extremely vicious,  
In all their ways: a Peerage fit for  
The commonwealths of Sodom, or Gomorrh ',  
Then for a Christian state: and God hath now  
For their great sins enforced their pride to bow.  
Our Priests have been blind watchmen, nothing knowing,  
Dumb dogs that cannot bark (yet always crowing)  
In sleep delighted, and so sleeping lie,  
Whilst their neglected flocks do stray and die:  
As greedly dogs, that ne'er enough can have,  
They look all their own way, how they may save  
For their advantage, and their purposes:  
And mutually provoking to excess;  
Crying, Come, we'll bring wine, and we will fill  
Ourselves with strong drink, till our bellies swill;  
And having spent this day in jollity,  
Much more abundant shall to morrow be.  
Yea many (if not worse) have been as bad  
As any prophets Jezebel ere had.  
When God a sad decree pronounced the while  
Against his person, and his projects vile,  
They sent their King by their base flattery,  
And lies, to Ramoth-Gilead, there to die:  
Who would not notice take of Micah's word  
(When he not long had reigned) sent from the Lord;  
Although he had received express directions,  
Not to be led by such false prophet's fictions:  
And many other prophets cunningly,  
Preach up division for divinity;  
Vent schisms, and errors, fantasies of men,  
For divine truths: but I'll instruct my pen  
In brief to tell whence these instructers come:  
They're Seminaries scent us forth from Rome:  
And (were't not that our sins them here detain)  
We'dld send them with the mischief back again,  
Or give them to the sowls of Heaven here,  
For a sweet meal of politic good cheer.  
Our judges who our seats of justice filled,  
More in corruption, then in law were skilled,  
Unless in wresting it to base byends,  
To vex their honest-foes, please their knave-friends:  
The proverb proved true here, birds of a feather  
Did (by the help of angels) hang together;  
Had man's help but at Tyburn hung them so,  
T' had saved these Isles much blood and treasure too.  
And, as a mighty torrent breaking out  
From mountains top, frets every side about,  
And drowns the vales with its empoisoned streams;  
So did injustice dart her lightless beams,  
And pour her floods from those high courts, about  
On all the lower courts the land throughout.  
Mayors, Justices of peace, and Constables,  
With under-sh'riffs, and all the lower rabble's  
Of officers, in this great Isle were grown  
Corrupt; yea many to take bribes did own  
In face of justice; daring impudence!  
Enough to make Heaven blush at the offence,  
And pour down thunderbolts of indignation,  
To root for ever hence our Name and Nation,  
To puff us off like th'atoms of a feather,  
And Sodomize us into Hell together.  
Shalt thou not visit Lord for this? and be  
Avenged on such a Nation as are we?  
It's more than miracle we being have  
On this side Hell, at least this side the grave:  
It's thy mere mercy Lord. Oh give us sense  
Of thy forbearance, and our own offence.  
Oh that my lines (like Jonah's crying) could  
Ninivetize our hearts; our souls new-mould;  
Wrist cries from man, and bellowing from beasts;  
Charm us from daily food, and nightly rests,  
Till thou be pleased to hear, and hearing see,  
And seeing heal, our plague-sick malady,  
Our sinsick State, and to reform our ways,  
And send us truth and peace, and we thee praise.  
But Lord, we in our wilfulness go on,  
Just as our Fathers have before us done;  
They eaten sour grapes, our teeth are set on edge  
Vith eating sourer; for none can allege  
Our God unjust: thou long since profer'dst us  
A way of peace; but we (grown mutinous)  
Would walk our own: and thou mayst justly send  
Our froward ways a fatal journey's end.  
We heard a voice behind us plainly say,  
Let God elect with you, this is your way,  
Walk in't and prosper; yet we still will choose  
Members, whose discord will the body lose,  
Unless thy grace prevent: for we are running  
A way chalked out by thine, and our most cunning  
And mortal foes: a way devised at Rome,  
Which will these lands to desolation doom;  
Our bodies to sharp sword, and famine thin:  
Our souls ro utter darkness for our sin:  
Deprive us of thy candlestick that live,  
And to posterity dark Lanterns give,  
To guide in paths of death: and to deceive  
Our progeny false Gospels to believe,  
Unless thy grace prevent. Blessed God, arise,  
And let thy foes be scattered, that despise  
And persecute thy truth and people thus:  
Draw us to thee, and be thou GOD WITH US.  
Cease our divisions; chase all schisms and errors:  
All Heresies and Ath'ism, hence with terrors;  
And with confusion unto those that broached them,  
And recantation to those that approached them:  
Let Reformation true at last come in  
To our distracted Church and State, which sin  
Hath long kept off: let love, with truth and peace,  
And blessed union, daily more increase  
In these distressed lands; chase hence the swarms  
Of black-pits locusts, whose inveigling charms  
Dicotomize the world, whose industry  
Makes King fight King, and men make war with thee.  
Lord, let eternal mercy turn us thus  
From all our sins, and all thy wrath from us:  
For none but thine Almighty hand can cure  
Our  wounds: thy enemies make sure  
Shortly to sway these lands; and therewithal,  
To ruin thy reformed Churches all:  
Unless thy grace prevent. Help Lord at need;  
It's in the mount, it's time thou help indeed:  
For vain is man's false help: we fools have tried  
By Egypt's friendship to be fortified,  
Whose broken reeds have pierced our heedless hands,  
And drawn thy judgements on these sinful lands;  
Avert them Lord, and turn us unto thee,  
Thy fury just from us; else lost are we.  
Thy stock of wont mercies we have spent:  
And are undone, unless thy grace prevent.  
We set up Princes (Lord) but not of thee:  
Rulers whom thou knowst not, who'll fatal be  
Unto this land, and make us soon repent  
Our foolish choice: unless thy Grace prevent.  
Oh let the BRANCH spring forth and bud, and bear,  
(If thou so will'st) whilst we are pilgrims here:  
The birth is at wombs mouth: Oh God, help strength,  
To bring that blessed production forth at length,  
Which our sins keep obstructed in the womb;  
And let the Son of David's Kingdom come.  
But out great crimes defer that blessed event,  
And urge thy wrath: Lord, let thy Grace prevent.  
Prevent our just-deserved ruin, Lord:  
Let love obliterate our crimes abhorred:  
Recruit our stock of grace so vainly spent;  
And our just fears, Lord let thy grace prevent.   

Angliae Omen.  
OH stupid England! how hath S. befooled thee,  
Not to give ear to what thy G. hath told thee?  
But to F. P. thou willingly canst hearken,  
Which will (I fear) thy brightest glory darken.  
E. and D. fight (like fools) by J. deceived  
To make S. sport; unless by G. relieved.  
G. chalked thee out a way: yet thou refusest  
Therein to walk; his mercies thou abusest;  
Pervert'st the means of grace to schism and faction;  
Wrest'st proffered peace into perverse distraction.  
P. B. is spilled, whence P. in mirth exceedeth,  
Whilst P. spoils P. the heart of C. C. bleedeth:  
And thou still glorying in thy shame abidest;  
Sweet mercies scornest; judgement's fierce deridest:  
Exceed'st in pride, oppression, blood, and thieving,  
Excess, and bold profaneness: never grieving  
For all thy horrid acts, whose exclamation  
Rings up to Heaven, and croaks thy desolation:  
For which thy crimes, one of these are attending,  
Thy soon repentance, or thy latter ending.   

It is not to me unknown that divers exquisite pens have poëtically translated the following Lamentations; whose Labours I honour, and aim not herein to detract from; neither strive I to claw man's ear, or tickle his fancy: but have (as near as I was enabled) kept the very words of the Text itself in our most usual English Translations (hoping the divine gravity, and interwoven plainness of that stile, may prove powerful above all man's ingenious flourishes hereon) as fitting best the parallel times and people, where●n, and for whom they were first written. Amen.  

Hodie mihi, Cras tibi.  
Let Jury Britain's warner be:  
Let Jebus London teach:  
That we Gods ways may heed and see,  
Whilst Jews to English preach.   
The Lamentations of Jeremiah in metre.  

CHAP. I.  
verse 1 HOw doth the thronged City sit desert?  
How art thou widowed, (O thou) that wert  
The great among the Nations, Princess took  
Of Provinces; and now in tributes yoke?  
verse 2 Her nightly tears make torrents o'er her cheeks:  
In vain she comfort from all lovers seeks:  
Her friends perfidious all, are foes become.  
verse 3 Judah's gone captive from her native home;  
Because of servitude, and great affliction:  
Among the Heathen she finds no refection:  
Her persecuters 'twixt the straits overtake her:  
verse 4 Zions' ways mourn since solemn feasts forsake her▪  
Her Priests do sigh; her gates are desolate;  
verse 5 Virgins afflicted; She in bitter state:  
Her foes are chief, and prosper; for the Lord  
Hath her afflicted for her most abhorred,  
And multiplied transgressions: and her Sons  
Her enemies led captive all at once.  
verse 6 All Zions' Daughter's beauty is departed:  
Her Princes are like Hearts in pastute thwarted,  
verse 7 As finding none: and they are strengthless gone  
verse 8 Before pursuers. Jebus now thinks on  
Her pleasant things (in days of old enjoyed)  
By misery's afflicting hand made void:  
Her Sons fallen in the hands of enemies,  
Quite helpless; foes her Sabbaths did despise.  
verse 9 Jerusalem hath sinned grievously;  
Therefore removed, of her friends cast by,  
Who saw her shame: she sighs & backward turns:  
verse 10 Her filth is in her skirts, and she adjourns  
The day of her last end: whence she descends  
To wonderment; yet void of cheering friends.  
Lord, view my sorrow; for the foe doth boast,  
verse 11 And snatch our pleasant things we value most.  
She in her Temple sees the Heathen Nations,  
Whom thou forbad'st t'approach thy Congregations.  
verse 12 Her people sigh, and seek their bread; they give  
Their pleasant things for food them to relieve.  
See Lord, consider; for I vile am grown.  
verse 13 Is it to you as nothing? have ye known  
(O all by-passers) any grief like mine?  
In his fierce anger's day by sacred Trine  
verse 14 Afflicted? fire from Heaven he hath sent  
Into my bones; his net spread with intent  
My feet to trap: Yea, he hath turned me back,  
And made me faint and desolate alack.  
verse 15 His hand hath bound the yoke of my transgressions,  
Which wreathed mount, & cause my neck's oppressions:  
My strength he made to fall; he gives me over  
Into their hands, from whom I can't recover.  
verse 16 In me he trampled on my men of might:  
Assembled those that crushed my young men quite:  
As in a wine-press he that wears heavens crown  
The Virgin Judah's Daughter hath trod down.  
verse 17 For this I weep: mine eye, mine eye fleets on;  
Because from me the Comforter is gone,  
That should relieve my soul: And desolate  
My children are; 'cause those prevailed that hate  
verse 18 All comfortless, Zion spreads forth her hands:  
Concerning Jacob, God his foes commands  
To him him round; and poor Jerusalem  
Is as a menstruous woman made by them.  
verse 19 The Lord is righteous; for against his Laws  
I have rebelled: Oh! I pray you pause,  
All people hear and see my sorrow, bred  
By my young men, and Virgins captive led.  
verse 20 I called my lovers, but they me deceived;  
My Priests and Elders were of life bereaved  
In City, while they sought meat for relief.  
verse 21 Behold (O Lord) me in distress and grief,  
My bowels vexed, and my heart is quelled:  
Since against thee I grievously rebelled:  
The sword abroad bereaves, and death at home.  
verse 22 My foes have heard i'm comfortless become,  
And that I sigh in trouble: They rejoice,  
That thou hast done it: Lord, thy sacred voice  
Hath called a day, which thou wilt bring to be,  
And they shall then be all like unto me.  
verse 23 Look on their wickedness, and them reward,  
As thou hast me for my transgressions, Lord:  
For many are my sighs, and numerous;  
My heart is faint for thy afflicting us.   

CHAP. II.  
verse 1 HOw hath the Lord in anger covered  
Poor Zions' Daughter, with a cloud over spread  
And cast from Heaven (his imperial City)  
Down to this dunghill earth, the splendid beauty  
Of Israel, and calls not now to mind  
His footstool in his day of wrath assigned?  
verse 2 The Lord hath swallowed up all Jacob's Tents;  
And pitiless in Judah's holds made rents,  
And brought them to the ground: he hath defiled  
The Kingdom, and the Princes all exiled.  
verse 3 In his fierce wrath he'th cut off israel horn:  
His right hand from foes presence back is born:  
'Gainst Jacob like a flaming fire he burneth,  
Which round about devoureth and o'erturneth.  
verse 4 His bow he foe like bent: with his right hand  
He stood as adversary; with death fanned  
All those that pleasant were, unto the eye,  
In Zions' daughters Tabernacle high:  
He poured his fury forth like flaming fire.  
verse 5 The Lord was foe, and swallowed in his ire  
All Israel, her palaces, and all  
Strong holds: and mourning hath increased withal,  
verse 6 With Judah's daughter's woe: with violence  
His Tabernacle he removed from thence,  
Even as a garden; and destroyed rests  
The place of his assembly: solemn feasts,  
And Sabbaths he hath caused to be forgot:  
In Zion King and Priest he heeded not,  
verse 7 In his wrath's indignation. God hath cast  
His Altars off, abhorred his Temple waste;  
Her Palace-walls, he gave up to her foes:  
By them a noise in the Lord's house arose,  
verse 8 As in a solemn feast: God purposed hath  
Destroying Zion's daughter's wall in wrath:  
He hath stretched out a line; neither withdrawed  
His hand from ruining: he therefore made  
The rampart, and the wall both to lament;  
They languished jointly both in discontent.  
verse 9 Her gates are all interred; her bars are broke;  
Her King and Princes under Gentiles yoke;  
The law is fled. Prophets no vision see.  
verse 10 And Zion's daughter's elders silenced be,  
Sitting on ground, dust-headed, sack-cloth-girt:  
Jebus her Virgins hang down heads in dirt.  
verse 11 Mine eyes do fail with tears; my bowels vexed;  
My liver poured out on earth, perplexed  
For the destruction which my people meets:  
Children and sucklings swoon in City-streets.  
verse 12 They ask of Mother's corn and wine; and swooned,  
As those that in the City-streets are wounded;  
Whilst in their mother's bosoms thus they cried,  
They poured out their souls, expired and died.  
verse 13 What thing shall I to witness take for thee?  
To what by me may'st thou compared be?  
verse 14 (O daughter of Jerusalem) what shall  
I equal to thee, that I may let fall  
Some drop of comfort, thy sad soul to cheer,  
O Virgin Zions daughter? it is clear,  
Thy breach is Ocean-like in magnitude:  
verse 15 Who can thee heal? thy Prophets have seen rude,  
Vain, foolish things for thee; would not display  
Thy sins, thy captive state to turn away;  
But have for thee seen burdens false, and causes  
verse 16 Of banishment. By-passers all make pauses,  
Clap hands, and hiss, and wag their heads at thee▪  
Daughter of Jebus; crying, Is this she,  
beauty's perfection termed? joy of the earth?  
verse 17 Thy foes all gape against thee; and in mirth  
Hiss, gnash their teeth: now certainly (they say)  
We have her swallowed up; this is the day  
We looked for, which we have found and see:  
verse 18 God hath what he devised done, and he  
Fulfilled hath his word of old commanded:  
He hath thrown down, not pitied, and hath banded  
Thine enemies against thee to rejoice,  
Set up thine adversaries horn and voice.  
verse 19 Their heart unto thee (Lord) aloud did cry:  
O wall of Zions daughter; from thine eye  
Let tears run down (like rivers) night and day:  
And give thyself no rest, thine eyes no stay.  
verse 20 Arise; make nightly cries, when watch gins,  
Pour out thy heart (like water) for thy sins  
Before God's face; and lift thy hands on high  
To Him, for thy young babes that fainting lie  
verse 21 On top of every street. O Lord, behold;  
Consider to whom thou hast done what's told:  
Shall women eat their fruit? a span-long child?  
Prophet and Priest be in the Temple killed?  
verse 22 The young and old lie grovelling in the streets;  
The sword my virgins, and my young men meets;  
Thou in thy day of wrath hast slain them all:  
Thou hast them killed, and let no pity fall.  
verse 23 Thou summoned haste (as in a solemn day)  
My terrors round about, that none away  
In thy wrath's day escaped, or remained:  
The children that I swaddeled, and trained,  
Brought up and cherished, (and to keep presumed)  
My mortal enemy hath all consumed.   

CHAP. III.  
verse 1 I Am the man that hath affliction seen  
verse 2 By his wrath's rod. By him led have I been  
Into obscurest darkness; (grief to tell)  
But not into the light (save that like Hell.)  
verse 3 Surely against me is he turned right:  
His hand is turned against me day and night.  
verse 4 He hath made old my flesh, and skin; and spilt  
verse 5 My broken bones: He hath against me built.  
With gall and travel he hath compassed me.  
verse 6 (Like dead of old) in the dark places he  
Me fet: He hath me hedged round about:  
verse 7 Made my chain heavy; that I can't get out.  
verse 8 My prayer he shuts out, when I shout and cry.  
verse 9 He curved my paths, and walled my ways up high.  
verse 10 With squared stone. He was a bear to me,  
Lying in wait: and lion-like was he  
verse 11 In secret place. My ways he turned aside:  
And into pieces he did me divide;  
verse 12 And made me desolate. He bent his bow,  
Made me his shafts-mark, so to shoot me through:  
verse 13 He caused his quiver's arrows in my reins  
verse 14 To enter deep. And in their merry veins,  
Distressed I, the people's laughter was,  
verse 15 And song all day. He me hath filled (alas)  
With bitterness, with wormwood made me drunk.  
verse 16 With gravel stones my teeth he broke, and sunk  
verse 17 Me under ashes. And far off from peace  
My soul thou hast removed: In me doth cease  
verse 18 Prosperitie's remembrance. And I said,  
My strength and hope is from the Lord decayed.  
verse 19 Recording mine affliction, misery,  
verse 20 The wormwood and the gall: my soul (still shy)  
In their remembrance humbled is in me.  
verse 21 This I  to mind, and thence hope see.  
verse 22 'Tis the Lord's mercy we are not o'erborn;  
verse 23 ' Cause his compassions fail not: Every morn  
They are renewed; great is thy faithfulness.  
verse 24 My soul doth say the Lord my portion is;  
verse 25 Therefore I'll hope in him. The Lord is good  
To them that wait for him, to souls that wooed  
verse 26 His face. It's good for man to hope and wait  
verse 27 The Lords salvation quietly, (though straight)  
verse 28 The youth-born yoke is good which having born,  
verse 29 He sits in silence still. And doth adorn  
His mouth with dust; if so there hope may be.  
verse 30 He gives his cheek to smiters, filled is he  
verse 31 Full with reproach: for God will not for ay  
verse 32 Cast off. And (though he causeth grief to day)  
He will compassion have, according to  
verse 33 His mercy's multitude. God doth not do  
That willingly, that may afflict or grieve  
verse 34 The sons of men; to crush (and not reprieve)  
verse 35 Earth's prisoners under feet; to turn awry  
The right of man before his face most high.  
verse 36 The Lord approves not to subvert man's cause.  
verse 37 Who's he that saith, and it doth come to pass  
verse 38 When God commands it not? Both good and ill  
Proceed they not out of the Lords mouth still?  
verse 39 Wherefore doth man complain? man for his sins  
verse 40 Just punishment? Let's search, and try what's in's,  
verse 41 And to the Lord rerurn: to God in heaven  
verse 42 Let's lift our hearts and hands: for we have even  
Transgressed, rebelled, and pardon thou gav'st none.  
verse 43 With anger thou hast covered alone,  
And persecuted us: thou hast us slain,  
verse 44 And hast not pitied. Thou dost detain  
Thee in a cloud, that our prayers should not pass.  
verse 45 Thou hast us made as the off-scowring: as  
verse 46 Refuse in people's midst. And all our foes  
verse 47 Opened their mouths against us: fear, snare, woes,  
Destruction, desolation on us lie.  
verse 48 Rivers of tears do run down from mine eye,  
For the destruction that is come upon  
verse 49 My people's daughter: Mine eye trickleth down,  
And ceaseth not, without all intermission,  
verse 50 Till God look down from heaven on her condition,  
verse 51 And it behold. Mine eye affects my heart,  
Because of all my cities daughter's smart.  
verse 52 Mine enemies me chased very sore,  
(Even like a bird) without a cause wherefore.  
verse 53 They have cut off my life; in dungeon throwed  
verse 54 A stone upon me. And the waters flowed  
Over my head: I am cut off, (said I)  
verse 55 And in low dungeon on thy Name did cry.  
verse 56 O Lord, thou hast me heard; hid not thine ear  
verse 57 At my sad cry and breathing. Thou drewest near  
I'th' day that I did call on thee, and saidst  
verse 58 Fear not. O Lord, thou my souls causes plead'st:  
verse 59 Thou hast redeemed my life. Thou see'st my wrong;  
verse 60 Judge thou my cause. Thou hast seen all along  
verse 61 Their vengeance and their thoughts against me. Thou  
Hast their reproaches heard (O Lord) and how  
verse 62 Against me they imagine; lips of those,  
And their device, that up against me risen  
verse 63 All day. Behold their sitting and their rising;  
verse 64 I am their music. Lord, for their devising,  
Render them recompense, according to  
verse 65 Their handiwork. Give them heart-sorrow, woe,  
verse 66 Thy curse unto them. Persecute, destroy  
In wrath them from beneath thy throne of joy.   

CHAP. FOUR  
verse 1 HOw is the gold come dim! the fine gold changed  
In each streets top! the Temple's stones (estranged)  
verse 2 Are poured out. How Zions' precious s●…nes  
To fine gold comparable, are at once  
Esteemed as earthen pitcher, potters creature!  
verse 3 Even dragons draw the breast, and give by nature  
Suck to their young: my people's daughter is  
Cruel become, like to the ostriches  
verse 4 In wilderness. For thirst the suckling's tongue  
Cleaves fast to his mouth's roof; the children young  
verse 5 Ask bread, and no man breaks to them. They that  
Fed delicately, are now desolate:  
I'th' streets the scarlet brood dunghills embrace.  
verse 6 My people's daughters punishment takes place  
Of Sodom's sin's high punishment, o'erthrown  
In moment, when on her stayed no hand known.  
verse 7 Her Nazarites purer than snow, more white  
Than whitest milk, in body ruddy, bright  
More than the rubies were, their polished hue  
verse 8 Was saphire; and their visage now we view  
Blacker than coal: in streets they are not known:  
Their withered skin cleaves fast unto the bone:  
verse 9 It's stick-like ' come. They whom the sword hath slain,  
Are better than whom hunger rid of pain:  
For these pine thorow-struck for field-fruits want.  
verse 10 Pitiful women's hands have in the scant  
Sodden their children, they their meat were after,  
In the destruction of my people's daughter.  
verse 11 The Lord his fury hath accomplished,  
He hath poured out his anger fierce, kindled  
A fire in Zion, and it her foundations  
verse 12 Devoured hath. Earth's Kings and all the Nations  
O'th' world, would never have believed the foe,  
And adversary enter should into  
verse 13 Jerusalem's gates. For her Prophet's crimes,  
And for her Priests iniquities, (oft times)  
That in the midst of her just men's blood shed:  
verse 14 As blind men in the street they wandered;  
With blood themselves polluted, so that men  
verse 15 Can not their garments touch; they cried then,  
Depart, it is unclean, touch not, depart,  
When they did fly and wander; they (with smart)  
Among the heathen said, They shall no more  
verse 16 There sojourn. The Lord's anger hath full so●e  
Divided them; he'll them no more respect:  
The Persons of the Priests they quite neglect:  
verse 17 They favoured not the elders. As for us,  
Our eyes for our vain help yet failed thus  
In watching; we have for a Nation watched.  
verse 18 That could not save; our steps they hunt, & catched,  
That we can't walk the streets; our end is near,  
Our days fulfilled are, our end is here.  
verse 19 Our cruel Persecutors are more swift  
Than Heavens Eagles: they had us in drift  
Upon the mountains; for us they laid wait  
verse 20 In wilderness. In their pits, by their bait,  
Our nostril's breath, the Lords anointed was  
Surprised, of whom we often said (alas)  
Under his shade 'mongst heathens live shall we.  
verse 21 Rejoice, O Edom's daughter, and glad be  
Who dwellest in Uz-land; but the cup pass shall  
Thorough to thee: and thou shalt drunken fall;  
verse 22 And make thee naked. Zions' daughter (high)  
The punishment of thine iniquity  
Accomplished is; he will no more thee carry  
Captive away. O Edom's daughter wary,  
The Lord will visit thine iniquity:  
He will thy sins discover and descry.   

CHAP. V.  
verse 1 O Lord remember what upon us comes;  
verse 2 Consider our reproach. Behold, our homes  
Are turned to aliens, our inheritance  
verse 3 To strangers; we are fatherless, orphans:  
verse 4 Our mother's widows are. We drunk our water  
For money, wood is sold unto us after.  
verse 5 Our necks are under persecution:  
We labour, and of rest have no fruition;  
verse 6 To Egypt, and to Ashur, hands we gave,  
That we to satisfy us bread might have.  
verse 7 Our fathers sinned, and are not: we bore their  
verse 8 Iniquities: servants our rulers were,  
And none out of their hands delivers us.  
verse 9 Getting our bread, our lives are perilous,  
verse 10 Because of wildernesses sword. Our skin  
Was ov'n-like black, because of famine thin,  
verse 11 But terrible. In Zion ravished they  
The women, and by force with maidens lay  
verse 12 In Judah's Cities. Princes hanged appear  
By their fierce hands: the elders faces were  
verse 13 Not honoured. They made the young men grind;  
The children fall under the wood behind.  
verse 14 The elders from the gate have ceased: young men  
verse 15 From music: our heart's joy is ceased, when  
verse 16 Our dance is into mourning turned. The crown  
Off from our head is likewise fallen down:  
verse 17 Woe unto us that we have fined. For this  
Our eyes are dim; for these our heart faint is:  
verse 18 Because of Zions' mountain desolate,  
verse 19 The foxes walk on it. Thou Lord in state  
Remain'st for ever; and thy throne is set  
verse 20 From age to age: why dost thou us forget  
For ever, and so long forsake us? see;  
verse 21 Turn us to thee, and we shall turned be:  
Return our days as in the time of old.  
verse 22 But thou, O Lord (as if thy love grew cold)  
Hast utterly rejected us: thou art  
Exceeding wrath against us (hence we smart.)    

Confessio & Petitio.  

1.  
GOD hath chalked us out a way  
Leading unto peace and life;  
We rebellious run astray,  
In the paths of death and strife:  
Did not mercy us preserve,  
What we choose, we best deserve:  
Peace and Life, we loath and wave:  
Death and Strife we love and have.  

Turn us, Lord, or we shall never  
Turned be, but stray for ever.    

2.  
Thou to us, Lord, hast made known,  
What shall in the end bring peace,  
When the Rule shall be thine own,  
And all Tyranny shall cease:  
When all Powers on earth that be,  
Shall depend alone on thee,  
When the Lord shall peace compose:  
But we still thy ways oppose.  

Turn us, Lord, or we shall never  
Turned be, but stray for ever.    

3.  
When thou shalt our Rulers choose,  
Who can doubt of happy days?  
Since no people ere did lose  
Aught by walking in thy ways?  
Oh that we that time might see,  
When we shall be ruled by thee!  
Haste it, Lord, and let it come;  
But we still do stray and roam.  

Turn us, Lord, or we shall never  
Turned be, but stray for ever.    

4.  
We in Changes run our course,  
Not to change from bad to good:  
But to change from bad to worse,  
Though by thee to better wooed.  
Since in changes we delight,  
Lord, direct our changes right,  
That from bad to good we change;  
And us from our sins estrange.  

Change us, Lord, or we shall never  
Changed be, yet change for ever.    

5.  
Can a Blackmore change his skin?  
Or a Leopard his spots?  
Then may we forsake our sin,  
Which accustomed us besots,  
And allures us more and more  
To worse courses than before:  
So impossible a change  
Unto man, to 's not strange.  

Change us, Lord, or we shall never  
Changed be, yet change for ever.    

6.  
We are froward, and perverse,  
Cross to thee in all our ways,  
Prone to bad, from good averse,  
Cold in prayers, thanks, and praise:  
Faith is bashful; hope too bold;  
Charity benumbed with cold;  
Conscience in a Lethargy;  
All religion like to die.  

Change us Lord, or we shall never  
Changed be, yet change for ever.    

7.  
Thine Almighty hand alone  
Can this powerful change effect,  
To make supple hearts of stone,  
And their secret depths detect,  
Whose meandred wind lie,  
Intricate, beyond our eye:  
And in us no power is left,  
Since thereof by sin bereft.  

Turn us, change us; else we never  
Shall be turned, or changed for ever.  
Change us, turn us; then shall we  
Truly turned and changed be.     
Amen.   


Postscriptio: sed Praemonitio.  
BRitain! thy sins have stupefied thy sense  
Of sin, of danger, though not purse-expence:  
There thou'rt too quick of feeling: ' ware the trash  
Thou strivest to keep, prove not thy fatal lash.  
thou'rt blind; and seest not sweetest mercie's guide  
In thy sweet way of peace: will't not confide  
In men or means that God hath raised for thee,  
As instruments of thy felicity.  
thou'rt deaf; yea, wilful deaf: and wilt not hear  
Thy God's Prescripts, nor his Election bear.  
thou'rt Nose-pent: canst not smell the powder-plots  
Of thy grand foes, whose craft thee quite besots.  
Thy taste dis-relisheth the Cates of Heaven,  
Yet chew'th the Cud upon thy musty leaven:  
Thy Passover may not with that be ta'en:  
Take heed thy love of old, bring not new bane:  
Accept what God doth give; never confound  
Thyself and thine, to run the world's wild round.  
Wilt not God's will feel? see? hear? smell? and taste?  
Then do thine own; But thou wilt rueed at last:  
Yet when thou hast proclaimed thyself God's foe,  
His will shall stand, whether thou wilt or no,  
When thou mayst feel his Iron Rod strike home:  
See this thy Paradise, Desert become:  
Hear the loathed noise of thy triumphing foes:  
Smell thy dead corpses to annoy thy nose:  
Taste (wanting what to taste through Famine thin)  
The bitter fruits of thy unequalled sin.  
Reverte: Te inverte, diverte & converte:  
Ut se vertat Deus ad te, & haec avertat à te:  
Ne te evertat.—  
Amen, Amen.    

Cura Malorum.  

1.  
ENgland! why hanker'st (in times fatal nick,)  
On various projects, which dicotomize  
Thy vital parts? why! (though at heart death-sick)  
Will't not accept of physic, or advise?  
Miss-dyet render will thy grief past cure:  
Fie, fie, forbear; doubtless thy doctor's skill  
Merits thy confidence; his physic's pure:  
Nought can obstruct its working, but thy will.  

Accept Urania's bountiful advice:  
Take for thy Lot, the Lot; be well: be wise.    

2.  
Curb then thy wayward will: s●…e self proud sway;  
Let thy dissenting parties reunite,  
In the most equal sortilegious way,  
Whereto both God and good men thee invite:  
A fairer path (freer from just exception)  
To cement jars, no Nation ere enjoyed,  
Nor ever shall; it's worthy thy reception,  
Lest by refusal thou be soon destroyed.  

Accept Urania's bountiful advice:  
Take for thy Lot, the Lot; be well: be wise.    

3.  
Rinse thy obstructing sins with early tears,  
Le●… Finer's fire and Fuller's soap supply  
Late penitences place: prevent thy fears  
By turning to who calls thee, lest thou die.  
Beloved Nation! 'tis thy dearest Lord  
Summons thy will to homage, hails thee in;  
Strike sails: stoop in: submit unto his word,  
And fly his vengeance threatened for thy sin.  

Accept Urania's bountiful advice:  
Take for thy Lot, the Lot; be well: be wise.    

One and All.  
Oft calls made unjust judge late notice take.  
Take thou thy Lot, lest thou thy Lot do take:   
FINIS.