Emblems  
CAMBRIDGE  
Printed by RD. for Francis. Eglesfeild. and are to be sold at the sign of the Marigold. in St. Paul's churchyard. 16●●  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉:   

Haec laus, hic apex Sapientiae est, ea viventem appetere, quae morienti forent appetenda.   

TO My much honoured, and no less truly beloved Friend, EDW. BENLOWES, Esquire.  
My dear Friend,  
YOu have put the Theorboe into my hand, and I have played: You gave the Musician the first encouragement; the music returneth to you for Patronage. Had it been a light air, no doubt but it had taken the most; and among them the worst: But being a grave strain, my hopes are, that it will please the best; and among them, You. Toyish airs please trivial ears: They kiss the fancy, and betray it: They cry, Hail, first; and after, crucify: Let Dorrs delight to immerd themselves in dungwhilest Eagles scorn so poor a Game as Flies. Sir, you have Art and Candour: Let the one judge, let the other excuse  
Your most affectionate Friend, FRA. QUARLES   

 
What here we see is but a graven face  
Only the shadow of that brittle case  
Wherein were treasured up those gems which he  
Hath left behind him to Posterity   

To the Reader.  
AN emblem is but a silent Parable. Let not the tender Eye check, to see the allusion to our blessed Saviour figured in these Types. In holy Scripture, he is sometimes called a sour; sometimes, a Fisher; sometimes a Physician: And why not presented so as well to the eye as to the ear? Before the knowledge of letters God was known by hieroglyphics: And, indeed, what are the Heavens, the Earth, nay every Creature, but hieroglyphics and emblems of His Glory? I have no more to say. I wish thee as much pleasure in the reading, as I had in the writing. Farewell, Reader.   

BY Fathers backed, by Holy Writ led on,  
Thou showest a way to heaven by Helicon:  
The muse's Font is consecrate by Thee,  
And poesy, baptised divinity:  
Blessed soul, that here embarkest: Thou sail'st apace,  
'T is hard to say, moved more by Wit, or Grace;  
Each Muse so plies her Oar: but O, the Sail  
Is filled from heaven with a Diviner Gale:  
When Poets prove Divines, why should not I  
Approve in Verse this Divine Poetry?  
Let this suffice to licence thee the press;  
I must no more; nor could the Truth say less.  
Sic approbavit RICH. LOVE Procan. Cantabrigiensis.   

Tot Flores QUARLES, quot Paradisus, habet.  
Lectori bene-male-volo.  
Qui legit ex Horto hoc Flores, Qui carpit, Ut●rque  
Jure potest VIOLAS dicere, jure ROSAS.  
Non è Parnasso VIOLAM, Paestive ROSETO  
Carpit Apollo, magìs quae sit amoena, ROSAM.  
Quot Versus, VIOLAS legis; & Quem verba lo●●●●um  
Credis, verbà dedit: Nam dedit Ille ROSAS.  
Utque Ego non dicam haec VIOLAS suayissima; T●●●  
Ipse facis VIOLAS, Livide, si violas.  
Nam velu● è VIOLIS sibi sugit Ara●ea virus:  
Vertis ità in succos Hasque, ROSASque tuos.  
Quas violas Mù●as, VIOLAS puto, quasque recusa●  
Dente tuo rosas, has, reor, esse ROSAS.  
Sic rosas, facis esse ROSAS, dùm 〈◊〉, rodis:  
Sic facis has VIOLAS, Livide, dum violas.  
Brent. Hall. 1634. EDW. Benlowes.   

  

THE FIRST BOOK.  

The Invocation.  

Rouse thee, my soul; and drain thee from the dregs  
Of vulgar thoughts: screw up the heightened pegs  
Of thy sublime Theorboe four notes higher,  
And higher yet; that so, the 〈◊〉- mouthed choir  
Of swift-winged Seraphims may come and join,  
And make thy consort more than half divine.  
Invoke no Muse; Let heaven be thy Apollo;  
And let his sacred influences hallow  
Thy highbred strains; Let his full beams inspite  
Thy ravished brains with more heroic 〈◊〉:  
Snatch thee a Quill from the spread eagle's wing,  
And, like the morning Lark, mount up and sing:  
Cast off these dangling plummets, that so clog  
Thy labouring heart, which gropes in this dark fog  
Of dungeon-earth; Let flesh and blood 〈◊〉  
To stop thy flight, till this base world appear  
A thin blue Lanskip: Let thy pinions sore  
So high a pitch, that men may seem no more  
Than Pismires, crawling on this molehill earth,  
Thy ear untroubled with their frantic mirth;  
Let not the frailty of thy flesh disturb  
Thy new-concluded peace; Let Reason 〈◊〉  
Thy hot-mouthed Passion; and let heaven's fire season  
The fresh Conceits of thy corrected Reason.  
Disdain to warm thee at Lusts smoky fires,  
Scorn, scorn to feed on thy old bloat desires:  
Come, come, my soul, hoist up thy higher sails,  
The wind blows fair? Shall we still creep like Snails,  
That gild their ways with their own native slimes?  
No, we must fly like E●…gles, and our Rhimes  
Must mount ●…o heaven and reach th' Olympic ea●…;  
Our heau'n-blown fire must seek no other sphere.   

Thou great Theanthropos, that giv'st and groundest  
Thy gifts in dust; and from out dunghill crownest  
Reflected Honour, taking by retail,  
What thou hast given in gross, from lapsed, frail,  
And sinful man; that drinkest full draughts, wherein  
Thy children's leprous fingers, scurfed with Sin,  
Have padled, cleanse, O cleanse my crafty Soul  
From secret crimes, and let my thoughts control  
My thoughts: O, teach me stoutly to deny  
Myself, that I may be no longer I:  
every my fancy, clarify my thoughts,  
Resine my dross; O, wink at human faults;  
And through this slender conduit of my Quill  
Convey thy Current, whose clear streams may fill  
The hearts of men with love, their tongues with praise:  
Crown me with Glory: Take, who list, the bays.    

I.  

  
JAM. 1. 14. Every man is tempted, when he is drawn away by his own lust, and enticed. Serpent. Eve. Serp. 

NOt eat? Not taste? Not touch? Not cast an eye  
Upon the fruit of this fai●… Tree? And why?  
Why eatest thou not what heaven ordained for food?  
Or canst thou think that bad which heaven called Good?  
Why was it made, if not to be enjoyed?  
Neglect of favours makes a favour void:  
Blessings unused, pervert into a Wast,  
As well as surfeits; Woman, Do but taste:  
See how the laden boughs make silent suit  
To be enjoyed; Look how their bending fruit  
Meet thee halfway; Observe but how they crouch  
To kiss thy hand; Coy woman, Do but touch:  
Ma●…k what a pure Vermilion blush has died  
Their swelling cheeks, and how for shame they hide  
Their palsy heads, to see themselves stand by  
Neglected: Woman, Do but cast an eye.  
What bounteous heaven ordained for use, refuse not;  
Come, pull and eat: Y' abuse the thing ye use not.   Eve. 

Wisest of Beasts, our great creator did  
Reserve this Tree, and this alone forbid;  
The rest are freely ours, which doubtless are  
As pleasing to the taste; tothth' eye, as fair;  
But touching this, his strict commands are such,  
` 'tis death to taste, no less than death to touch.   Serp. 

Pish; death's a fable: Did not heaven inspire,  
Your equal Elements with living Fire,  
Blown from the spring of life? Is not that breath  
Immortal? Come; ye are as free from death  
As He that made ye. Can the flames expire  
Which he has kindled? Can ye quench his fire?  
Did not the great creators' voice proclaim  
What ere he made (from the blue spangled frame  
To the poor leaf that trembles) very Good?  
Blessed he not both the Feeder, and the Food?  
Tell, tell me then, what danger can accrue  
From such blessed Food, to such half-gods as you?  
Curb needless fears, and let no fond conceit  
Abuse your freedom; woman, Take, and eat.   Eve. 

'T is true; we are immortal; death is yet  
Unborn, and, till rebellion make it debt,  
Undue; I know the Fruit is good, until  
Presumptuous disobedience make it ill.  
The lips that open to this Fruit's a portal  
To let in death, and make immortal mortal.   Serp. 
You cannot die; Come, woman, taste and fear not:  Eve. 
Shall Eve transgress? I dare not, O I dare not.  Serp. 

Afraid? why drawest thou back thy timorous arm?  
Harm only falls on such as fear a harm.  
Heaven knows and fears the virtue of this Tree:  
'T will make ye perfect Gods as well as He.  
Stretch forth thy hand, and let thy fondness never  
Fear death; Do, pull, and eat, and live for ever.   Eve. 

'T is but an Apple; and it is as good  
To do as to desire. Fruits made for food:  
I'll pull, and taste, and tempt my Adam too  
To know the secrets of this dainty.   Serp. 
Do.  
S. CHRYS. sup. Matth. He sorced him not: He touched him not: only said, Cast thyself down; that we may know, whosoever obeyeth the Devil casteth himself down: For the Devil may suggest, compel he cannot. S. BERN. in ser. It is the devil's part to suggest; Ours, not to consent. As os●… as we resist him, so often we overcome him; as often as we overcome him, so often we bring joy to the Angels, and glory to God; Who proposeth us, that we may contend, and assisteth us, that we may conquer.  

EPIG. I.  
Unlucky Parliament! wherein, at last,  
Both houses are agreed, and firmly past  
An Act of death, confirmed by higher Powers:  
O had it had but such success as Ours!     

II.  

  
JAMES 1. 15. Then when lust hath conceived, it bringeth forth sin; and sin when it is finished bringeth forth death. 

1  
LAment, lament; Look, look what thou hast done!  
Lament the worlds, lament thy own estate:  
Look, look by doing how thou art undone;  
Lament thy fall; lament thy change of State:  
Thy faith is broken, and thy freedom gone,  
See, see too soon, what thou lament'st too late.  
O thou that wert so many men, nay all  
Abbridg'd in one, how has thy desperate fall  
Destroyed thy unborn seed, destroyed thyself withal.   

2  
Uxorious Adam, whom thy maker made  
Equal to Angels that excel in power,  
What hast thou done? O why hast thou obeyed  
Thy own destruction? Like a new-cropped flower  
How does the glory of thy beauty fade!  
How are thy fortunes blasted in an hour!  
How art thou cowed, that hadst the power to quell  
The spite of new-fallen Angels, baffle Hell,  
And vie with those that stood, and vanquish those that fell.   

3  
See how the world (whose chaste and pregnant womb  
Of late conceived, and brought forth noth●…ng ill)  
Is now degenerated, and become  
A base adultress, whose false births do fill  
The earth with Monsters, Monsters that do room  
And rage about, and make a trade to kill:  
Now Glutt'ny paunches; Lust begins to spawn;  
Wrath takes revenge; and Avarice, a pawn;  
Pale envy pines, Pride swells, and Sloth begins to yawn.   

4  
The air that whispered, now begins to roar,  
And blustering Boreas blows the boiling Tide;  
The whit-mouthed Water now usurps the shore,  
And scorns the power of her tridentall guide;  
The Fire now burns, that did but warm before,  
And rules her ruler with resistless pride:  
Fire, Water, Earth and Ai●…e, that first were made  
To be subdued, see how they now invade;  
They rule whom once they served, command, where once obeyed   

5  
Behold; that nakedness, that late bewrayed  
Thy glory, now's become thy shame, thy wonder:  
●…ehold; those Trees whose various fruits were made  
For food, now turned a shade to shroud thee under:  
Behold; that voice (which thou hast disobeyed)  
That late was music, now aff●…ights like thunder:  
Poor man! Are not thy joints grown sore with shaking,  
To view th' effect of thy bold undertaking,  
That in one hour didst mar, what heaven six days was making?   
S. AUGUST. lib. 1. de lib. arbit. It is a most just punishment, that man should lose that freedom which man could not use, yet had power to keep if he would; and that be who had knowledge to do what was right, and did not, should be deprived of the knowledge of what was right; and that he who would not do righteously when he had the power, should lose the power to doit, when he ●…ad the will. HUGO de anima. They are justly punished that abuse lawful things, but they are most justly punished, that use unlawful things: Thus Lucifer fell from Heaven: thus Adam lost his Paradise.  

EPIG. 2.  
See how these fruitful kernels, being cast  
Upon the earth, how thick they spring! how fast!  
A full-eared crop and thriving, rank and proud;  
Preposterous man first sowed, and then he ploughed.     

III.  

  
PROVERBS 14. 13. Even in laughter the heart is sorrowful, and the end of that mirth is heaviness. 

1  
ALas fond Child,  
How are thy thoughts beguiled,  
To hope for honey from a nest of wasps?  
Thou Mayst as well  
Go seek for ease in hell,  
Or sprightly Nectar from the mouths of asps.   

2  
The world's a hive,  
From whence thou canst derive  
No good, but what thy soul's vexation brings:  
Put case thou meet  
Some peti-peti sweet,  
Each drop is guarded with a thousand stings.   

3  
Why dost thou make  
These murmuring troops forsake  
The safe protection of their waxen homes?  
This hive contains  
No sweet that's worth thy pains;  
There's nothing here, alas, but empty combs.   

4  
For trash and toys,  
And grief-ingend'ring joys,  
What to●…ment seems too sharp for ●…lesh and blood!  
What bitter pills,  
Composed of real ills,  
Man swallows down to purchase one false good!   

5  
The dainties here,  
Are lest what they appear;  
Though sweet in hopes, yet in fruition sour:  
The fruit that's yellow,  
Is found not always mellow:  
The fairest Tulip's not the sweetest flower.   

6  
Fond youth, give o'er,  
And vex thy soul no more  
In seeking what were better far unfound;  
Alas thy gains  
Are only present pains  
To gather Scorpions for a future wound.   

7  
What's earth? or in it,  
That longer than a minit  
Can lend a free delight that can endure?  
O who would droyl,  
Or delve in such a soil,  
Where gain's uncertain and the pain is sure?   
S AUGUST. sweetness in temporal matters is deceitful: ill is a labour and a perpetual fear; it is a dangerous pleasure, whose beginning is without providence, and whose end is not without repentance. HUGO. Luxury is an enticing pleasure, a bastard mirth, which hath honey in her mouth, gall in her heart, and a a●…ing in her tail.  

EPIG. 3.  
What, Cupid, are thy shafes already made?  
And seeking honey, to set up thy trade?  
True emblem of thy sweers! Thy Bees do bring  
Honey in their mouths, but in their tails, a sting.     

IV.  

  
PSALM 62. 9 To be laid in the balance, it is altogether lighter than vanity. 

1  
PUt in another weight: 'T is yet too light:  
And yet: Fond Cupid, put another in;  
And yet another: Still there's under weight;  
Put in another hundred: Put again.  
Add world to world; then heap a thousand more  
To that; then, to renew thy wasted store,  
Take up more worlds on trust, to draw thy balance lower.   

2  
Put in the flesh, with all her loads of pleasure;  
Put in great Mammon's endless inventory;  
Put in the pond'rous acts of mighty Cesar;  
Put in the greater weight of Sweden's glory;  
Add S●…pio's gauntlet; put in Plato's gown:  
Put Circe's charms, put in the triple crown.  
Thy balance will not draw; thy balance will not down   

3  
Lord, what a world is this, which day and night,  
Men seek with so much toil, with so much trouble?  
Which weighed in equal scales is found so light,  
So poorly over-balanced with a bubble?  
Good God that frantic mortals should destroy  
Their higher hopes, and place their idle joy  
Upon such airy trash, upon so light a toy   

4  
Thou bold impostor, how hast thou befooled  
The tribe of Man with counterfeit d●…sire!  
How has the breath of thy false bellows cooled  
Heaven's freeborn flames, and kindled bastard fire!  
How hast thou vented dross in stead of treasure,  
And cheated man with thy false weights and measure,  
Proclaiming bad for good; and gilding death with pleasure!   

5  
The world's a crafty Strumpet, most affecting  
And closely following those that most reject her;  
But seeming careless, nicely disrespecting  
And coily flying those that most affect her:  
If thou be free, she's strange, if strange she's free;  
Flee, and she follows; Follow, and she'll flee:  
Then she there's none more coy, there's none more fond than she.   

6  
O what a Crocodilian world is this,  
Composed of treacheries, and ensnaring wiles!  
She cloaths destruction in a fo●…mall kiss,  
And lodges death in her deceitsull smiles;  
She hugs the soul she hates; and there does prove  
The veriest tyrant where she vows to love,  
And is a Serpent most, when most she seems a Dove.   

7  
Thrice happy he, whose nobler thoughts despise  
To make an object of so easy gains;  
Thrice happy he, who scorns so poor a prize  
Should be the crown of his heroic pains:  
Thrice happy he, that ne'er was born to try  
Her frowns or smiles; or being born, did lie  
In his sad nurse's arms an hour or two, and die.   
S. AUGUST. lib. Confess. O you that dote upon this world, for what victory do ye sight? Your hopes can be crowned with no greater reward than the world can give; and what is the world but a brittle thing full of dangers, wherein we travel from lesser to greater perils? O let all her vain, light, and momentany glory perish with herself, and let us be conversant with more eternal things. Alas, this world is miserable; life is short, and death is sure.  

EPIG. 4.  
My soul, what's lighter than a feather? wind.  
Then wind? The fire. And what then fire? The mind.  
What's lighter than the mind? A thought. Then thought?  
This bubble-world. What then this bubble? Nought.     

V.  

  
1. COR. 7. 31. The fashion of this world passeth away. 

GOne are those golden days, wherein  
Pale conscience started not at ugly sin:  
When good old Satu●…nes peaceful Throne  
Was unusurped by his beardless Son:  
When jealous Ops ne'er feared th' abuse  
Of her chaste bed, or breach of nuptial Truce:  
When just Astraea poised her Scales  
In mortal hearts, whose absence earth bewails:  
When froth-born Venus and her brat,  
With all that spurious brood young Jove begat,  
In horrid shapes were yet unknown;  
Those Halcyon days, that golden age is gone.  
There was no Client then to wait  
The leisure of his long-tailed Advocate;  
The Talion Law was in request,  
And Chaunc'ry courts were kept in every breast;  
Abused Statutes had no Tenters,  
And men could deal secure without indentures:  
There was no peeping hole to clear  
The wittols eye from his incarnate fear;  
There were no lustful Cinders then  
To broil the carbonadoed hearts of men;  
The rosy cheek did then proclaim  
A shame of Guilt, but not a guilt of shame:  
There was no whining soul to start  
At Cu●…ids twang, or curl his flaming 〈◊〉;  
The Boy had then but callow wings,  
And fell Erynnis Scorpions had no stings:  
The better-acted world did move  
Upon the fixed poles of Truth and Love.  
Love essenced in the hearts of men;  
Then Reason ruled; there was no Passion then;  
Till Lust and Rage began to enter,  
Love the Circumference was, and love the centre.  
Until the wanton days of Jove  
The simple world was all composed of Love;  
But Jove grew fleshly, false, unjust;  
Inferior beauty filled his veins with lust;  
And Cucquean Juno's fury hurled  
Fierce balls of rage into th'incestuous world:  
Astraea fled, and love returned  
From earth, earth boiled with lust, with rage it burned:  
And ever since the world has been  
Kept going with the scourge of Lust and Spleen.   
S. AMBROS. Lust is a sharp spur to vice, which always putteth the affections into a false gallop. HUGO. Lust is an immoderate wantonness of the flesh, a sweet poison, a cruel 〈◊〉; a pernicious potion, which weakeneth the body of man, and esseminateth the strength of an heroic mind. S. AUGUST. Envy is the hatred of another's felicity: in respect of superiors, because they are not equal to them; in respect of Inseriours, lest be should be equal to them; in respect of equals, because they are equal to them: Through envy proceeded the fall of the world, and the death of Christ.  

EPIG. 5.  
What? Cupid, must the world be lashed so soon?  
But made at morning, and be whipped at noon?  
'Tis like the wag that plays with Venus' Doves,  
The more 't is lashed, the more perverse it proves.     

VI.  

  
ECCLES. 2. 17. All is vanity and vexation of spirit. 

1  
HOw is the anxious soul of man befooled  
In his desire,  
That thinks an hectic sever may be cooled  
In stames of fire,  
Or hopes to rake full heaps of burnished gold  
From nasty mire!  
A whining Lover may as well request  
A scornful breast  
To melt in gentle tears, as woo the world for rest.   

2  
Let wit and all her studied plots effect  
The best they can;  
Let smiling Fortune prosper and perfect  
What wit began;  
Let earth advise with both, and so project  
A happy man;  
Let wit or fawning Fortune vie their best;  
He may be blessed  
With all that earth can give: but earth can give no rest.   

3  
Whose gold is double with a careful hand,  
His cares are double;  
The pleasure, honour, wealth of sea and land  
Bring but a trouble;  
The world itself, and all the world's command,  
Is but a bubble.  
The strong desites of man's ins●…tiate breast  
May stand possessed  
Of all that earth can give; but earth can give no rest.   

4  
The world's a seeming Par'dise, but her own  
And man's tormenter;  
Appearing sixt, yet but a rolling stone  
Without a tenter;  
It is a vast Circumference, where none  
Can find a centre.  
Of more than earth can earth make none possessed;  
And he that least  
Regards this restless world, shall in this world find rest.   

5  
True rest consists not in the oft revying  
Of worldly dross;  
Earths mi●…ie purchase is not worth the buying;  
Her gain is loss;  
Her rest, but giddy toil, if not relying  
Upon her cross.  
How worldlings droil for trouble! That fond breast  
That is possessed  
Of earth without a cross, has earth without a rest.   
CASS. in Ps. The cross is the invincible sanctuary of the humble: The dejection of the proud, the victory of Christ, the destruction of the devil, the confirmation of the faithful, the death of the unbeliever, the life of the just. DAMASCEN. The cross of Christ is the key of Paradise: the weak man's staff: the Converts convoy: the upright man's perfection: the soul and body's health: the prevention of all evil, and the 〈◊〉 of all good.  

EPIG. 6.  
Worldlings, whose whimpering folly holds the losses  
Of honour, pleasure, health and wealth such crosses,  
Look here, and tell me what your Arms engross,  
When the best end of what ye hug's a cross.     

VII.  

  
1. PETER 5. 8. Be sober, be vigilant, because your adversary the devil as a roaring Lion walketh about seeking whom he may devour. 

1  
WHy dost thou suffer lustful sloth to creep,  
Dull Cyprian lad, into thy wanton brows?  
Is this a time to pay thine idle vows  
At Morpheus shrine? Is this a time to sleep  
Thy brains in wasteful slumbers? up and rouse  
Thy leaden spirits: Is this a time to sleep  
Adjourn thy sanguine dreams: Awake, arise,  
Call in thy thoughts; and let them all advice,  
Hadst thou as many Heads as thou hast wounded eyes.   

2  
Look, look, what horrid furies do await  
Thy flattering slumbers! If thy drowsy head  
But chance to nod, thou fallest into a bed  
Of sulphurous flames, whose torments want a date.  
Fo●…d boy, be wise; let not thy thoughts be fed  
With Phrygian wisdom; fools are wise too late:  
Beware betimes, and let thy reason sever  
Those gates which passion closed; wake now, or never:  
For if thou noddest thou fallest: and falling fallest for ever.   

3  
Mark, how the ready hands of death prepare:  
His bow is bent, and he has notched his dart;  
He aims, he levels at thy slumbering heart:  
The wound is posting, O be wise, beware.  
What? has the voice of danger lost the art  
To raise the spirit of neglected care?  
Well, sleep thy fill, and take thy soft reposes;  
But know withal, sweet tastes have sour closes;  
And he repents in thorns, that sleeps in beds of roses.   

4  
Yet sluggard, wake, and gull thy soul no more,  
With earth's false pleasure, and the world's delight,  
Whose fruit is fair, and pleasing to the sight,  
But sour in taste, false at the putrid core:  
Thy flaring glass is gems at her halflight:  
She makes thee seeming rich, but truly poor:  
She boasts a kernel, and bestows a shell;  
Performs an inch of her fair promised ell:  
Her words protest a heaven; her works produce a hell.   

5  
O thou the fountain of whose better part  
Is earthed, and gravelled up with vain desire:  
That daily wallowest in the fleshly mire  
And base pollution of a lustful heart,  
That feel'st no passion but in wanton fire,  
And ownest no torment but from Cupid's dart;  
Behold thy Type: Thou sit'st upon this ball  
Of earth, secure, while death that flings at all,  
Stands armed to strike thee down, where flames attend thy fall.   
S. BERN. security is nowhere; It is neither in Heaven, nor in Paradise, much less in the world: In Heaven the Angels sell from the divine presence; in Paradise, Adam sell from his place of pleasure; in the world, Judas sell from the School of our Saviour HUGO. I eat secure, I drink secure, I sleep secure, even as though I had past the day of death, avoided the day of judgement, and escaped the torments of hellfire: I play and laugh, as though I were already triumphing in the kingdom of Heaven.  

EPIG. 7.  
Get up, my soul; Redeem thy slavish eyes,  
From drowsy bondage: O beware; Be wise:  
Thy foe's before thee; thou must sight or fly:  
Life lies most open in a closed eye.     

VIII.  

  
LUKE 6. 25. Woe be to you that laugh now, for ye shall mourn and weep. 

THe world's a popular disease, that reigns  
Within the froward heart and frantic brains  
Of poor distempered mortals, oft arising  
From ill digestion, through th' unequal poising  
Of ill-weighed Elements, whose light directs  
Malignant humours to malign effects.  
One raves, and labours with a ●…oyling liver;  
Rents hair by handfuls, cursing Cupid's quiver:  
Another with a bloody-slux of oaths  
Vows deep revenge: one dotes; the other loathes:  
One frisks and sings, and vies a slagon more  
To drench dry cares, and makes the welkin roar:  
Another droops; the sunshine makes him sad;  
Heaven cannot please: One's moped; the tother's mad:  
One hugs his gold; another lets it sly:  
He knowing not for whom; nor t'other why.  
One spends his day in plots, his night in play;  
Another sleeps and slugs both night and day:  
One laughs at this thing; t'other cries for that:  
But neither one nor tother knows for what.  
Wonder of wonders! What we ought t'evite  
As our disease, we hug as our delight:  
'T is held a symptom of approaching danger,  
When disacquainted Sense becomes a stranger,  
And takes no knowledge of an old disease;  
But when a noisome grief begins to please  
The unresisting sense, it is a fear  
That death has parleyed, and compounded there:  
As when the dreadful thunderers awful hand  
Powers forth a v●…all on th'infected land,  
At first th' affrighted mortals quake and fear:  
And every noise is thought the Thunderer:  
But when the frequent soul-departing bell  
Has paved their ears with her familiar knell,  
It is reputed but a nine days' wonder,  
They neither fear the thunderer nor his Thunder:  
So when the world (a worse disease) began  
To smart for sin, poor new-created Man  
Could seek for shelter, and his generous son  
Knew by his wages what his hands had done;  
But boldfaced mortals in our blushless times  
Can sin and smile, and make a sport of crim●…,  
Transgress of custom, and rebel in ease;  
We false-joyed fools can triumph in disease,  
And (as the careless pilgrim, being bit  
By the Tarantula, begins a sit  
Of life concluding laughter) wast our breath  
In lavish pleasure, till we laugh to death.   
HUGO de anima. What profit is there in vain glory, momentany mirth, the world's power, the ●…leshes pleasure, ●…ll riches, noble descent, and great desires? Where is their laughter? Where is their mir●…h? Where their insolence? their arrogance? From how much joy to how much sadness! After how much mirth, how much misery! From how great glory are they 〈◊〉 to how great torments! What hath ●…allen to them, may b●…fall thee, because thou art a man: Thou art of earth; thou live●…l of earth; thou shalt return to earth. Death expecteth thee everywhere; be wise therefore, and expect death everywhere.  

EPIG. 8.  
What ails the fool to laugh? Does something please  
His vain conceit? Or is 't a mere disease?  
Fool, giggle on, and wast thy wanton breath;  
Thy morning laughter breeds an evening death.     

Ix..  

  
1. JOHN 2. 17. The world passeth away, and all the lusts thereof. 

1  
DRaw near, brave sparks, whose spirits scorn to light  
Your hallowed tapers, but at honour's flame;  
You, whose heroic actions take delight  
To varnish over a new-painted name;  
Whose highbred thoughts disdain to take their slight,  
But on th'Icarian wings of babbling fame;  
Behold, how tottering are your high-built stories  
Of earth, whereon you trust the groundwork of your glories   

2  
And you, more brainsick Lovers, that can prize  
A wanton smile before eternal joys;  
That know no heaven but in your Mistress eyes;  
That feel no pleasure but what sense enjoys:  
That can, like crown-distempered fools despise  
True riches, and like babies whine for toys:  
Think ye, the Pageants of your hopes are able  
To stand secure ●…n earth, when earth itself's unstable?   

3  
Come dunghill worldlings, you that ●…oot like swine,  
And cast up golden trenches where ye come:  
Whose only pleasure is to undermine  
And view the secrets of your mother's womb:  
Come bring your Saint, p●…uch'd in his leather ●…hrine,  
And summon all yo●… griping Angels home.  
Behold your world, the bank of all your store:  
The world 〈◊〉 so admire; the worl●… ye so adore.   

4  
A feeble world, whose hot-mouthed pleasures tire  
Before the race; before the start, retreat;  
A faithless world, whose false delights expire  
Before the term of half their promised date;  
A fickle world, not worth the least desire,  
Where every chance proclaims a change of State:  
A feeble, faithless, sickle world, wherein  
Each motion proves a vice; and every act, a sin.   

5  
The beauty, that of late was in her flower,  
Is now a ruin, not to raise a lust;  
He that was lately drenched in 〈◊〉 shower,  
Is master now of neither gold nor trust;  
Whose honour late was manned with princely power,  
His glory now lies buried in the dust;  
O who would trust this world, or prize what's in it,  
That gives and takes, and chops and changes every minit!   

6  
Nor length of days, nor solid strength of brain  
Can find a place wherein to rest secure;  
The world is various, and the earth is vain:  
There's nothing certain here, there's nothing sure:  
We trudge, we travel but from pain to pain,  
And what's our only grief's 〈◊〉 only cure:  
The world's a torment; he that would endeavour  
To find the way to rest, must seek the way to leave her.   
S. GREG. in ho. Behold, the world is withered in itself, yet flourisheth in our hearts; everywhere death, everywhere grief, everywhere 〈◊〉: On every side we are smitten; on every side filled with bitterness, and yet with the blind mind of carnal desire we love her bitterness: It 〈◊〉, and we follow it; it falleth, yet we stick to it: And because we 〈◊〉 enjoy it fallen, we sall with it, and enjoy it, fallen.  
〈◊〉. 9 
If Fortune hale, or envious Time but spurn,  
The world turns round; and with the world we turn:  
When Fortune sees, and lynx-eyed Time is blind,  
I'll trust trust thy joys, O world; till then, the wind.     

X.  

  
JOHN 8. 44. Ye are of your father the devil, and the lusts of your father ye will do. 

HEre's your right ground: wag gently o'er this black;  
'T is a short cast; y' are quickly at the jack.  
Rub, rub an inch or two; two crowns to one  
On this bowls side: blow wind, 't is fairly thrown:  
The next boul's worse that comes, come bowl away;  
Mammon, you know the ground untutoured, play;  
Your last was gone, a yard of strength well spared,  
Had touched the block; your hand is still too hard.  
Brave pastime, 〈◊〉, to consume that day,  
Which without pastime flies too swift away!  
See how they labour; as if day and night  
Were both too short to serve their loose delight:  
See how their curved bodies wreath, and 〈◊〉  
Such antic shapes as Proteus never knew:  
One raps an oath, another deals a 〈◊〉;  
He never better bowled; this never worse:  
One rubs his itchlesse elbow, thrugs and laughs,  
The tother bends his beetle-brows, and chafes:  
Sometime they whoop, sometimes their Stygian cries  
Send their black-Santos to the blushing skies:  
Thus mingling humours in a mad 〈◊〉,  
They make bad Premises, and worse Conclusion:  
But where's the Palm that fortune's hand allows  
To bless the victor's honourable 〈◊〉?  
Come, Reader, come; I'll light thine eye the way  
To view the Prize, the while the gamesters play:  
Close by the jack, behold, gill fortune stands  
T●… wave the game; see, in her partial hands  
The glorious Garlands held in open show,  
To cheer the Lads, and crown the conq'rours' brow.  
The world's the jack; the gamesters that contend,  
Are Cupid, Mammon: that judicious Friend,  
That gives the ground, is Satan; and the bowls  
Are sinful thoughts: the Prize, a crown for fools.  
Who breathes that bowls not? what bold tongue can say  
Without a blush, he hath not bowled to day?  
It is the trade of man; and every sinner  
Has played his rubbers: Every soul's a winner.  
The vulgar Proverb's crossed: He hardly can  
Be a good bouler and an honest man.  
Good God, turn thou my Brazil thoughts a new;  
New sole my bowls, and make their bias true:  
I'll cease to game, till fairer ground be given,  
Nor wish to win until the mark be heaven.   
S. BERNARD lib. de Consid. O you sons of Adam, you covetous generation, what have ye to do with earthly riches, which are neither true, nor yours. Gold and silver are real earth, red and white, which the only error os man makes, or rather reputes, precious: In short, if they be yours carry them with you. S. Jerome. in Ep. O Lust, thou infer●…all fire, whose fuel is gluttony; whose flame is pride; whose sparkles are wanton words; whose smoke is infamy; whose ashes are uncleanness; whose end is hell.  

EPIG. 10.  
〈◊〉 well followed: Cupid bravely led;  
Both Touchers; equal Fortune makes a dead:  
No reed can measure where the conquest lies;  
Take my advice; compound, and share the Prize:     

XI.  

  
EPHESIANS 2. 2. Ye walked according to the course of this world, according to the Prince of the air. 

1  
O Whither will this madbrain world at last  
Be driven? where will her restless wheels arrive?  
Why hurries on her ill-matched pair so fast?  
O whither means her 〈◊〉 groom to drive?  
What? will her ●…ambling sits be never past?  
For ever ranging? never once 〈◊〉?  
Will earths perpetual progress ne'er expire?  
Her Team continuing in their fresh career,  
And yet they never rest, and yet they never tire.   

2  
Sol's hot-mouthed steeds, whose noslrils vomit flame,  
And braz●…n lungs 〈◊〉 forth quotidian fire,  
Their twelve hours' task performed, grow 〈◊〉 and lame,  
And their immortal spirits faint and tire:  
At th'azure mountains foot their labours claim  
The privilege of rest, where they retire  
To quench their burning 〈◊〉, and to steep  
Their flaming nostrils in the western deep,  
And fresh their tired soul●…s with strength-restoring sleep.   

3  
But these prodigious hackneys, basely got  
twixt men and devils, made for race nor flight,  
Can drag the idle world, expecting not  
The bed of rest, but travel with delight;  
Who neither weighing way, nor weather, trot  
Through dust and dirt, and droyl both night and day;  
Thus droyl these fiends incarnate, whose free pains  
Are fed with dropsies and venerial blains.  
No need to use the whip; but strength, to rule the reins.   

4  
Poor captive world! How has thy lightness given  
A just occasion to thy foe's illusion?  
O, how art thou betrayed, thus fairly driven  
In seeming triumph to thy own confusion?  
How is thy empty universe bereaven  
Of all true joys, by one false joys delusion?  
So have I seen an unblown virgin fed  
With sugared words so full, that she is led  
A fair attended Bride to a false Bankrupts bed.   

5  
Pull, gracious Lord; Let not thine Arm forsake  
The world, impounded in her own devices;  
Think of that pleasure that thou once didst take  
Amongst the lilies and sweet Beds of spices.  
Hale strongly, thou whose hand has power to slake  
The swift-foot fury of ten thousand vices:  
Let not that dust-devouring Dragon boast,  
His craft has won, what Judah's Lion lost;  
Remember what it 〈◊〉 Recount the price it cost.   
ISIDOR. lib. 1. De summo bono. By how much the nearer Satan perceiveth the world to an end, by so much the more ●…iercely he troubleth it with persecution; that knowing himself is to be damned, he may get company in his damnation. CYPRIAN in ep. Broad and spacious is the road to infernal li●…: there are enticements and death-bringing pleasures. There the Devil flattereth, that he may deceive; smileth, that he may endamage; allureth, that he may destroy.  

EPIG. 11.  
Nay 〈◊〉 and fair good world; post not too fast;  
Thy journey's end requires not half this haste.  
Unless that arm thou so disdainest reprives thee,  
Alas thou needs must go: the devil drives thee.     

XII.  

  
ISAIAH 66. 11. Ye may suck, but not be satisfied with the breast of her consolation. 

1  
WHat never filled? Be thy lips skrew'd so fast  
To th'earth's sull breast? For shame, for shame unseise thee:  
Thou tak'st a surset where thou fhouldest but taste,  
And mak'st too much not half enough to please thee.  
Ah fool, ●…orbear; Thou swallowest at one breath  
Both food & poison down; thou drawest both milk & death.   

2  
The ub'rous breasts, when fairly drawn, repast  
The thriving infant with their milky ●…lood,  
But being 〈◊〉, return at last  
Unwholesome gulps composed of wind and blood.  
A moderate use does both repast and please;  
Who strains beyond a mean draws in and gulps disease.   

3  
But, O that mean whose good the least abuse  
Makes bad, is too too hard to be directed:  
Can thorns bring grapes, or crabs a pleasing juice?  
There's nothing wholesome, where the whole's infected.  
Unseise thy lips: Earths milk's a ripened core  
That drops from her disease, that matters from her sore.   

4  
Think'st thou that paunch that 〈◊〉 out thy coat,  
Is thriving fat; or flesh, that seems so brawny?  
Thy paunch is dropsied and thy cheeks are bloat;  
Thy lips are white and thy complexion tawny;  
Thy skin's a bladder blown with wa●…ry tumors;  
Thy ●…lesh a trembling bog, a quagmire full of humours.   

5  
And thou whose thrivelesse hands are ever straining  
Earths fluent breasts into an empty sive,  
That always hast, yet always art complaining,  
And whin'st for more than earth has power to give;  
Whose treasure flows and flees away as fast;  
That ever hast, and hast, yet hast not what thou hast:   

6  
Go choose a substance, fool, that will remain  
Within the limits of thy leaking measure;  
Or else go seek an urn that will retain  
The liquid body of thy slippery treasure:  
Alas, how poorly are thy labours crowned?  
Thy liquour's neither sweet, nor yet thy vessel sound   

7  
What l●…sse then fool is Man, to prog and plot,  
And lavishout the cream of all his care,  
To gain poor seeming goods, which, being got,  
Make firm possession but a thoroughfare:  
Or if they stay, they furrow thoughts the deeper,  
And being kept with care, they lose their careful keeper.   
S. GREG. Hom. 3. secund. parte Ezech. If we give more to the flesh than we ought, we nourish an enemy; If we give not to her necessity what we ought, we destroy a citizen: The flesh is to be satisfied so sarre as 〈◊〉 to our good; whosoever alloweth so much to her as to make her proud, knoweth not bow to be satisfied: To be satisfied is a great art; least by the satiety of the flesh we break ●…orth into the iniquity of her folly. HUGO de Anima. The heart is a small thing, but desireth great matters: It is not sufficient for a Kites dinner, ye●… the whole world is not sufficient for it.  

EPI●…. 12.  
What makes thee fool, so fat? Fool, thee so bare?  
Ye suck the selfsame milk, the selfsame air:  
No mean betwixt all paunch, and skin and bone?  
The mean's a virtue, and the world has none.     

XIII.  

  
JOHN 3. 19 Men love darkness rather than light, because their deeds are evil. 

LOrd, when we leave the world and come to Thee, How dull, how slug are we!  
How backward! how preposterous is the motion Of our ungain devotion!  
Our thoughts are millstones, and our souls are lead, And our desires are dead:  
Our vows are fairly promised, faintly paid; Or broken, or not made:  
Our better work (if any good) attends Upon our private ends:  
In whose performance one poor worldly scoff Foyls us, or beats us off.  
If thy sharp 〈◊〉 find out some secret fault, We grumble or revolt:  
And if thy gentle hand forbear, we stray, Or idly lose the way.  
Is the road fair? we loiter: cloggd with mire? We stick, or else retire:  
A lamb appears a lion; and we fear, Each bush we see's a bear.  
When our dull souls direct their thoughts to thee,  
The soft-paced snail is not so slow as we:  
But when at ea●…th we dart our winged desire, We burn, we burn like ●…ire.  
Like as the amorous needle joys to bend  
To her magnetic friend:  
Or as the greedy lover's eyeballs fly  
At his fair Mistress eye:  
So, so we cling to earth; we fly and puff,  
Yet fly not fast enough.  
If pleasure beckon with her balmy hand,  
Her becks a strong command:  
If honour call us with her courtly breath,  
An hour's delay is death:  
If profits golden fingered charms enveigles,  
We clip more s●…ift than Eagles:  
Let Auster weep, or blustering Boreas roar  
Till eyes or lungs be sore:  
Let Neptune swell until his dropsie-sides  
Burst into broken tides:  
Nor threat'ning rocks, nor winds, nor waves, nor fire  
Can curb our fierce desire;  
Nor fire nor rocks can stop our surious minds,  
Nor waves, nor winds.  
How fast and fearelsse do our footsteps flee!  
The lightfoot Roe-buck's not so swift as we.   
S. AUGUST. sup. Psal. 64. Two several Lovers built two several Cities; The love of God buildeth a Jerusalem; The love of the world buildeth a Babylon: Let every one inquire of himself what he lov●…th, and he shall resolve himself of whence he is a Citizen. S. AUGUST. lib. 3. Confess. All things are d●…iven by their own weight, and tend to their own centre: My weight is my love; by that I am driven whithersoever I am driven. Ibidem. Lord, he loveth thee the less, that loveth any thing with thee, which he loveth not for thee.  

EPIG. 13.  
Lord, scourge my ass if she should make no haste,  
And curb my Stag if he should fly too fast:  
If he be overswif●…, or sh●… prove idle,  
Let Love lend him a spur: Fear, her, a bridle.     

XIV.  

  
PSALM 13. 3. Lighten mine eyes, O Lord, lest I sleep the sleep of death. 

Wilt ne'er be morning? Will that promised light  
Ne'er break, and clear these clouds of night?  
Sweet phosphor, bring the day,  
Whose conquering ray  
May chase these sogs; Sweet 〈◊〉, ●…ing the day.   

How long! how long shall these benighted eyes  
Languish in shades, like fe●…ble fli●…s  
Expecting Spring! How long shall darkness soil  
The face of earth, and thus beguile  
Our souls of sprightful action? when will day  
Begin to dawn, whose newborn ray  
May gild the weathercocks of our devotion,  
And give our unsouled souls new motion?  
Sweet phosphor, bring the day,  
Thy light will fray  
These horrid mists; Sweet phosphor, bring the day.   

Let those have night, that slily love t'immure  
Their cloistered crimes, and sin secure;  
Let those have night, that blush to let men kno●…  
The baseness they ne'er blush to do;  
Let those have night, that love to take a nap  
And loll in Ignorances lap;  
Let those whose eyes, like Ouls, abhor the light,  
Let those have night that lo●…e the night:  
Sweet phosphor, bring the day;  
How sad delay  
Afflicts dull hopes! Sweet phosphor, bring the day.   

Alas! my light invain-expecting eyes  
Can find no Objects but what rise  
From this poor moral blaze, a dying spark  
Of Vulcan's forge, whose flames are dark  
And dangerous, a dull blue burning light,  
As melancholy as the night:  
Here's all the suns that glister in the Sphere  
Of earth: Ah me! what comfort's here?  
Sweet phosphor, bring the day;  
Haste, haste away  
Heavens' loitering lamp; Sweet phosphor, bring the day.   

Blow, Ignorance: O thou, whose idle knee  
Rocks earth into a lethargy,  
And with thy sooty fingers hast bedight  
The world's fair cheeks, blow, blow thy spite;  
Since thou hast puffed our greater taper, do  
Puss on, and out the lesser too:  
If ere that breath-exiled flame return,  
Thou hast not blown, as it will burn:  
Sweet phosphor, bring the day;  
Light will repay  
The wrongs of night: Sweet phosphor, bring the day.   
S. AUGUST. in Joh. ser. 19 God is all to thee: If thou be hungry, he is bread; If thirsty, he is water; If in darkness, he is light; If naked, he is a robe of immortality. AIANUS de conq. nat. God is a light that is never darkened; An unwearied life, that cannot d●…e; a fountain always flowing; a garden of life; a seminary of wisdom, a radical beginning of all goodness.  

EPIG. 11.  
My soul, if Ignorance puff out this light,  
She will do a favour that intends a spite:  
'T seems dark abroad; but take this light away,  
Thy windows will discover break a day.     

XV.  

  
REVELATION 12. 12. The Devil is come unto you, having great wrath, because he knoweth that he hath but a short time. 

1  
LOrd! canst thou see and suffer? is thy hand  
Still bound to th'peace? Shall earths black Monarch take  
A full possession of thy wasted land?  
O, will thy slumbering vengeance never wake,  
Till full-aged law-resisting custom shake  
The pillours of thy right by false command?  
Unlock thy clouds, great thunderer, and come down;  
Behold whose Temples wear thy sacred Crown;  
Redress, redress our wrongs; revenge, revenge thy own.   

2  
See how the bold Usurper mounts the seat  
Of royal Majesty; How overstrawing  
Perils with pleasure, pointing every threat  
With bugbear death, by torments overawing  
Thy frighted subjects; or by favours drawing  
Their tempted hearts to his unjust retreat;  
Lord, canst thou be so mild? and he so bold?  
Or can thy flocks be thriving, when the fold  
Is governed by a Fox? Lord, canst thou see and hold?   

3  
That swift-winged Advocate, that did commence  
Our welcome suits before the King of kings,  
That sweet ambassador, that hu●… rises hence  
What airs th' harmonio●…s soul or sighs or sings,  
See how she flutters with her idle wings;  
Her wings are clipped, and eyes put out by sense:  
Sense conquering Faith is now grown blind and cold,  
And basely crav●…nd, that in times of old  
Did conquer heaven itself, do what th' almighty could.   

4  
Behold how double Fraud does s●…ourge and t●…ar  
Astraeas' wounded sides, ploughed up and rent  
With knotted cords, whose fury has no ear;  
See how she stands a prisoner to be sent,  
A slave, into eternal banishment,  
I know not whither, O, I know not where:  
Her Patent must be canceled in disgrace;  
And sw●…-lip Fraud, with her divided face,  
Must act As●…s part, must take Astraeas' place.   

5  
faith's pinions clipped? And fair Astraea gone?  
Q●…ck-seeing Faith now blind? And Justice see?  
Has Justice now found wings? and has Faith none?  
What do we here? who would not wish to be  
Dissolved from earth, and with Astraea flee  
From this blind dungeon to that sun-bright Thro●…?  
Lord, is thy sceptre lost, or laid aside?  
Is hell broke loose, and all her Fiends untied?  
Lord, rise and rouse, and rule and crush their furious pride.   
PETR. RAV. in Math. The Devil is the author of evil, the fountain of wickedness, the adversary of the truth, the corrupter of the world, man's perpetual enemy; he pl●…teth snares, diggeth ditches, spurreth bodies, he goadeth souls, he suggesteth thoughts, belcheth anger, exposeth virtues to hatred, maketh vices beloved, soweth errors, nourisheth 〈◊〉, disturbeth peace, and scattereth asfections. MACAR. Let us suffer with those that suffer, and be crucified with those that are crucified, that we may be glorisied with those that are glorisied. SAVANAR. If there be no enemy, no sight; is ●…o sight, ●…o victory; is no victory, no crown.  

EPIG. 15.  
My soul, sit thou a patient looker on;  
Judge not the Play before the Play is done:  
Her Plot has many changes: Every day  
Speaks a new Scene; the last act crowns the Play.      

THE SECOND BOOK.  

I.  

  
ISAIAH 50. 11. You that walk in the light of your own sire, and in the sparks that ye have kindled, ye shall lie down in sorrow. 

1  
DO, silly Cupid, snu●…e and trim  
Thy false, thy feeble light,  
And make her self-consuming flames more bright;  
Me thinks she burns too dim.  
Is this that sprightly fire,  
Whose more then sacred beams inspire  
The ravished hearts of men, and so in●…lame desire?   

2  
See, Boy, how thy unthristie blaze  
Consumes, how fast she wains;  
She spends herself, and her, whose wealth maintains  
Her weak, her idle rays.  
Cannot thy lustful blast,  
Which gave it luster, make it last?  
What heart can long be pleased, where pleasure spends so fast?   

3  
Go, Wanton, place thy pale-faced light  
Where never breaking day  
Intends to visit mortals, or display  
Thy sullen shades of night:  
Thy Torch will burn more clear  
In nights un-titaned Hemisphere;  
Heaven's scornful flames and thine can never coappear.   

4  
In vain thy busy hands address  
Their labour to display  
Thy easy blaze within the verge of day;  
The greater drowns the less:  
If heaven's bright glory shine,  
Thy gli●…ing sparks must needs resign;  
Pustout heaven's glory then, or heaven will work out thine.   

5  
Go, Cupid's rammish Pander, go,  
Whose dull, whose low desire  
Can find sufficient wa●…h from nature's 〈◊〉,  
Spend borrowed breath, and blow,  
Blow wind, made strong with spite;  
When thou hast pu●…t the greater light,  
Thy lesser sp●…k may shine, and 〈◊〉 the new-made nigh●….   

6  
Deluded mortals, tell me when  
Your daring breath has blown  
Heaven's taper out, and you have spent your own,  
What sire sh●…ll warm ye then?  
Ah fools, perp●…tuall night  
Shall h●…unt your souls with Stygian fright,  
Where they shall boil in flames, but flames sh●…ll bring no light.   
S. AUGUST. The sufficiency of my merit is to know that my merit is not sufficient. S. GREG. Mor. 25. By how much the less man seeth himself, by so much the less he displeaseth himself; And by how much the more he seeth the light of Grace, by so much the more be disdaineth the light of nature. S. GREG. Mor. The light of the understanding humility kindleth, and pride covereth.  

EPIG. 1.  
Thou blowest heaven's si●…e, the whilst thou goest about,  
Rebellious fool, in vain to blow it out:  
Thy folly adds confusion to thy death;  
Heaven's sire confounds, when fanned with folly's breath.     

II.  

  
ECCL●…S. 4. 8. There is no end of all his labour, neither is his eye satisfied with riches. 

O How our wid'ned arms can over-stretch  
Their own dimensions! How our hands can retch  
Beyond their distance! How our yielding breast  
Can shrink, to be more full, and full possessed  
Of this inferior Orb! How earth refined  
Can cling to sordid earth! How kind to kind!  
We gape, we grasp, we gripe, add store to store;  
Enough requires too much: too much craves more.  
We charge our souls so sore beyond their stint,  
That we recoil or burst: The busy Mint  
Of our laborious thoughts is ever going,  
And coining new desires; desires, not knowing  
Where next to pitch, but like the boundless Ocean  
Gain, and gain ground, and grow more strong by motion.  
The pale-faced Lady of the black-eyed night  
First tips her horned brows with easy light,  
Whose curious train of spangled Nymphs attire  
Her next night's glory with increasing ●…ire;  
Each evening adds more luster, and adorns  
The growing beauty of her grasping horns:  
She sucks and draws her brother's golden store  
Until her glutted Orb can suck no more.  
●…v'n so the vulture of insatiate minds  
Still wants, and wanting seeks, and seeking finds  
New fuel to increase her ravenous sire,  
The grave is sooner cloyed than men's desire:  
We cross the seas, and midst her waves we burn,  
Transporting lives, perchance that ne'er return;  
We 〈◊〉, we ransack to the utmost sands  
Of native kingdoms, and of foreign lands;  
We travel sea and soil, we pry, we proul,  
We progress, and we prog from pole to pole;  
We sp●…nd our midday sweat, our midnight oil,  
We 〈◊〉 the night in thought, the day in toil:  
We make Art servile, and the Trade gentile,  
(●…t b●…th corrupted with ingenious guile)  
To compass earth; and with her empty store  
To fill our arms, and grasp one handful more;  
Thus seeking rest, our labours never ●…ase,  
But as our years, our hot desires increase:  
Thus we, poor little Worlds! (with blood and sweat)  
In vain attempt to comprehend the great;  
Thus, in our gain, become we gainful losers,  
And what's enclosed, encloses the enclosers.  
Now Reader, close thy book, and then advise:  
Be wisely worldly, be not worldly wise;  
L●… not thy nobler thoughts be always raking  
The world's base dunghill; vermin's took by taking:  
Take heed thou trust not the deceitful lap  
Of wanton Dalilah; The world's a trap.   
HUGO de Anima. Tell me where be those now that so lately loved and hugged the world? Nothing remaineth of them but dust and worms: Observe what those men were; what those men are: They were like thee; they did eat, drink, laugh, and led merry days, and in a moment slipped into hell. Here their flesh is food for worms; there, their souls are fuel for fire, till they shall be rejoined in an unhappy fellowship, and cast into eternal torments; where they that were once companions in sin, shall be hereafter partners in punishment.  

EPIG. 2.  
Gripe, C●…pid, and gripe still until that wind,  
That's penned before, find secret vent behind:  
And when th''ve done, hark here, I tell thee what,  
Before I'll trust thy armful, I'll trust that.     

III.  

  
JOB 18. 8. He is cast into a net by his own feet, and walketh upon a snare. 

1  
WHat? n●…s and quiver too? what need there all  
These sly devices to betray poor men?  
Die they not fast enough, when thousands fall  
Before thy dart? what need these engines then?  
Attend they not, and answer to thy call,  
Like nightly coveys, where thou list and when?  
What needs a stratagem where strength can sway?  
Or what need strength compel, where none gainsay?  
Or what need stratagem or strength, where hearts obey?   

2  
Husband thy sleights: It is but vain to wast  
Honey on those that will be catched with gall;  
Thou canst not, ah! thou canst not bid so fast  
As men obey: thou art more slow to call,  
Than they to come; thou canst not make such haste  
To strike, as they being struck make haste to fall.  
Go save thy nets for that rebellious heart  
That scorns thy power, and has obtained the art  
T'avoid thy flying shaft, to quench thy fiery dart.   

3  
Lost mortal, how is thy destruction sure,  
Between two bawds, and both without remorse!  
The one's a Line, the tother is a Lure;  
This, to entice thy soul; that, to enforce:  
Waylaid by both, how canst thou stand secu●…e?  
That draws, this woos thee to th' eternal curse.  
O charming tyrant, how hast thou be●…ool'd  
And slaved poor man, that would not if he could  
Avoid thy line, thy lure; nay could not, if he would!   

4  
Alas thy sweet perfidious voice betrays  
His wanton ears with thy Sirenian baits;  
Thou wrappest his eyes in mists, then boldly lays  
Thy lethal gins before their crystal gates;  
Thou lockest up every Sense with thy false keys,  
All willing prisoners to thy close deceits:  
His ear most nimble where it deaf should be,  
His eye most blind where most it ought to see,  
And when his heart's most bound, than thinks itself most free.   

5  
Thou grand impostor, how hast thou obtained  
The wardship of the world! Are all men turned  
Idiots and lunatics? are all retained  
Beneath thy servile bands? Is none returned  
To his forgotten self? Has none regained  
His senses? Are their senses all adjourned?  
What none dismissed thy Cou●…t? will no plump fee  
Bribe thy false fists to make a glad decree,  
●…unfool whom thou hast fooled, and set thy prisoners free?   
S. BERN. in Ser. In this world is much treachery, little truth; here, all things are traps; here, every thing is beset with snares; here, souls are endangered, bodies are sna●…s; here all things are vanity, and vexation of spirit.  

EPIG. 3.  
Nay, Cupid, pitch thy trammil where thou please,  
Thou canst not fail to take such fish as th●…se;  
Thy thriving spert will ne'er be spent: no need  
To fear when every cork's a world thou'lt speed,     

IV.  

  
HOSEA 13. 3. They shall be as the chaff that is driven with a whirlwind out of the floor, and as the smoke out of the chimney. 

FLint-hearted Stoics, you, whose marble eyes  
Contemn a wrinkle, and whose souls despise  
To follow Natures too a●…ected fashion,  
Or travel in the Regent-walk of Passion;  
Whose rigid hearts dis●…ain to shrink at fears,  
Or play at fast and loose with smiles and tears;  
Come, burst your spleens with laughter to behold  
A new found vanity, which days of old  
Ne'er knew: a vanity, that his beset  
The world, and made more slaves than Mahomet:  
That has condemned us to the servile yoke  
Of slavery, and made us slaves to smoke.  
But stay! why tax I thus our modern times,  
For newborn follies, and for newborn crimes?  
Are we sole guilty, and the first age free?  
No, they were smoked and slaved as well as we:  
What's sweet-lipped Honours blast, but smoke? What's treasure  
But very smoke? And what more smoke than pleasure?  
Alas: they 're all but shadows, fumes and blasts;  
That vanishes, this sades, the other wastes.  
The restless Merchant, he that loves to steep  
His brains in wealth, and lays his soul to sleep  
In bags of Bullion, sees th' immo●…tall Crown,  
And fain would mount, but I gets keep him down:  
He brags to day, perchance, ●…nd begs to morrow;  
He lent but now, wants credit now to borrow:  
Blow winds, the treasure's gone, the merchant's 〈◊〉;  
A slave to silver's but a slave to smoke.  
Behold the Glory-vying child of fame,  
That from deep wounds sucks forth an honoured name,  
That thinks no purchase worth the style of good,  
But what is sold for sweat, and sealed with blood;  
That for a point, a blast of empty breath,  
Undaunted gazes in the face of death;  
Whose dear-bought bubble, filled with vain renown,  
Breaks with a phillop, or a generals frown:  
His stroke-got Honour sta●…gers with a stroke;  
A slave to Honour is a sla●…e to smoke.  
And that fond soul which wastes his idle days  
In loose delights, and sports about the blaze  
Of Cupid's candle; he that daily spies  
Twin habies in his Mistress Geminies,  
Whereto his sad devotion does impart  
The swe●…t burnt-offering of a bleeding heart:  
See, how his wings are singed in Cyprian sire,  
Whose flames consume with youth, in age expire:  
The world's a bubble; all the pleasures in it,  
●…ke morning vapou●…s, vanish in a minit:  
The vapours vani●…h, and the bubble's broke;  
A slave to pleasure is a slave to smoke.  
Now, Sto●…ck, cease thy laughter, and repast  
Thy pickled cheeks with tears, and weep as sast.   
S. HIERON. That rich man is great, who thinketh not himself great, because be is rich: the proud m●…n (who is the poor man) braggeth outwardly, but beggeth inwardly: he is blown up, but not full. PETR. RAV. Vexation and anguish accompany riches and honour: The pomp of the world and the favour of the people are but smoke, and a blast suddenly vanishing: which, if they commonly please, commonly bring repentance, and for a minute of joy, they bring an age of sorrow.  

EPIG. 4.  
Cupid, thy diet's strange: It dulls, it rouses,  
It cools, it heats, it binds, and then it loses:  
Dull-sprightly-cold-hot fool, if e'er it winds thee  
Into a looseness once, take heed, it binds thee.     

V.  

  
PROVERBS 23. 5. Wilt thou set thine eyes upon that which is not? for riches make themselves wings, they sly away as an Eagle. 

1  
FAlse world, thou liest: Thou canst not lend  
The least delight:  
Thy favours cannot gain a Friend,  
They are so slight:  
Thy morning pleasures make an end  
To please at night:  
Poor are the wants that thou supplyest,  
And yet thou vaunt'st, and yet thou vyest  
With heaven; Fond earth thou boasts; false world thou liest.   

2  
Thy babbling tongue tells golden tales  
Of endless treasure;  
Thy bounty offers easy sales  
Of lasting pleasure;  
Thou ask'st the Conscience what she ails,  
And swearest to ease her;  
There's none can want where thou supplyest:  
There's none can give where thou deniest.  
Alas, fond world thou boasts; false world thou liest.   

3  
What well advised ear regards  
What earth can say?  
Thy words are gold, but thy rewards  
Are painted clay;  
Thy cunning can but pack the cards;  
Thou canst not play:  
Thy game at weakest, still thou vyest;  
If ●…een, and then revyed, deny'ft;  
Thou art not what thou seem'st: false world, thou liest.   

4  
Thy tinsil bosom seems a mint  
Of new-coined treasure,  
A Paradise, that has no stint,  
No change, no measure;  
A painted cask, but nothing in't,  
Nor wealth, nor pleasure:  
Vain earth! that falsely thus complyest  
With man: Vain man! that thus ●…ely'st  
On earth: Vain man, thou dotest: Vain earth, thou liest.   

5  
What mean dull souls, in this high measure  
To haberdash  
In earth's base wares, whose greatest treasure  
Is dross and trash?  
The height of whose enchanting pleasure  
Is but a flash?  
Are these the goods that thou supplyest  
Us mortals with? Are these the highest?  
Can these bring cordial peace? False world, thou liest.   
PET. BLES. This world is 〈◊〉: Her end is doubtful; Her conclusion is horrible; Her Judge is terrible; And her punishment is ●…tolerable. S. AUGUST. lib. Confess. The vain glory of this world is a deceitful sweetness, a fruitless labour, a perpetual fear, a dange●…ous honour: Her beginning is without providence, and her end not without repe●…ance.  

EPIG. 5.  
World, th' a●…t a traitor; thou hast stamped thy base  
And chemic metal with great Caesar's face;  
And with thy bastard bullion thou hast bartered  
For wares of price; how justly drawn and quartered!     

VI.  

  
JOB 15. 31. Let not him that is deceived trust in vanity, for vanity shall be his recompense. 

1  
BElieve her not: Her glass dissuses  
False portraitures: thou canst ●…pie  
No true reflection: She abuses  
Her informed beholders eye;  
Her Chrystall's falsely steeled: It scatters  
Deceitful beams. Believe her not, she flatters.   

2  
This flaring mirror represents  
No right proportion, hi●…w, or feature:  
Her very looks are compliments;  
They make thee fairer, goodlier, greater:  
The skilful gloss of her reflection  
But paints the Context of thy course complexion.   

3  
Were thy dimension but a stride,  
Nay, wert thou statured but a span,  
Such as the long-billed troops defi'd,  
A very fragment of a man;  
she'll make thee Mi●…as, which ye will,  
The ●…ove-slain tyrant, or th' Jonick hill.   

4  
Had 〈◊〉, or th' ungracious star  
Conspired to make one common place  
Of all deformities that are  
Within the volume of thy face,  
She'd 〈◊〉 thee favour should out-move  
The Troy-bane Helen, or the Queen of Love.   

5  
Were thy consumed estate as poor  
As 〈◊〉, or afflicted Jobs:  
She'll change thy wants to seeming store,  
And turn thy 〈◊〉 to purple robes;  
She'll make thy hide- 〈◊〉 flank appear  
As plump as theirs that feast it all the year.   

6  
Look off; let not thy optics 〈◊〉  
Abused; thou seest not what thou shouldst:  
thyself's the Object thou shouldst see,  
But't is thy shadow thou beholdest:  
And shadows thrive the more in stature,  
The nearer we approach the light of nature.   

7  
Where heaven's bright beams look more direct,  
The shadow shrinks as they grow stronger:  
But when they glance their fair aspect,  
The 〈◊〉- faced shade grows larger, longer;  
And when their lamp begins to fall,  
Th'increasing shadows lengthen most of all.   

8  
The soul that seeks the noon of grace,  
Shrinks in, but swells if 〈◊〉 〈◊〉;  
As heaven 〈◊〉 up, or veils his face,  
Ourselves esteems grow 〈◊〉 or great.  
The least is greatest; and who shall  
Appear the greatest are the least of all.   
HUGO lib. de Anima. In vain he lifteth up the eye of his heart to behold his God, who is not first rightly advised to behold himself: First thou must see the visible things of thyself, before thou 〈◊〉 be prepared to know the invisible things of God, 〈◊〉 if thou canst not apprehend the things within thee, thou canst not comprehend the things above thee: The best lookingglass wherein to see thy God, is perfectly to see thyself.  

EPIG. 6.  
Be not deceived, great fool: There is no loss  
In being small; great bulks but swell with dross.  
Man is heaven's masterpiece: If it appear  
More great, the value's less; if less, more dear.     

VII.  

  
DEUTERONOMY 30. 19 I have set before thee life and death, blessing and cursing, therefore choose life, that thou and thy seed may live. 

1  
THe world's a floor, whose swelling heaps retain  
The mingled wages of the ploughman's toil;  
The world's a heap, whose yet unwinnowed grain  
Is lodged with chaff and buried in her soil;  
All things are mixed, the useful with the vain;  
The good with bad, the noble with the vile;  
The world's an Ark, wherein things pure and gross  
Present their lossefull gain, and gainful loss,  
Where every dram of gold contains a pound of dross.   

2  
This furnished Ark presents the greedy view  
With all that earth can give, or heaven can add;  
Here, lasting joys; here, pleasures hourly new,  
And hourly fading, may be wished and had:  
All points of Honour, counterfeit and true,  
Salute thy soul, and wealth both good and bad:  
Here Mayst thou open wide the two-leaved door  
Of all thy wishes, to receive that store  
Which being empty most, does overflow the more.   

3  
Come then, my soul, approach this royal Burse,  
And see what wares our great Exchange reteins;  
Come, come; here's that shall make a firm divorce  
Betwixt thy wants and thee, if want complains;  
No need to sit in council with thy purse,  
Here's nothing good shall cost more price than pains:  
But O my soul, take heed if thou rely  
Upon thy faithlesle optics, thou w●…lt buy  
Too blind a bargain: k●…ow, fools only trade by th'eye.   

4  
The wo●…ldly wisdom of the foolish man  
Is like a sieve, that does alone retain  
The grosser substance of the worthless bran:  
But thou, my soul, let thy brave thoughts disdain  
So course a purchase; O be thou a fan  
To purge the chaff, and keep the winnowed grain:  
Make clean thy thoughts, and dress thy mixed desires,  
Thou art heaven's tasker; and thy God requires  
The purest of thy sloore, as well as of thy sires.   

5  
Let grace conduct thee to the paths of peace,  
And wisdom bless thy souls unblemished ways,  
No matt●…r then, how short or long's the lease,  
Whose d●…te determines thy self-numbred days:  
No need to car●… for wealths or f●…es increase,  
Nor 〈◊〉 his Palm, nor high Apollo's bays.  
Lord. if thy gracious bounty please to fill  
The 〈◊〉 of my desires, and teach me skill  
To di●…e and ●…use the corn, take those the chaff that will.   
S. AUGUST. lib. 1. de doct. Christi. temporal things more ravish in the expectation, then in s●…uition: but things eternal more in the sruition than expectation. Ibide●…. The life os man is the middle between Angels and beasts: Is man takes pleasure in carnal things, he is compared to beasts; but is he delights in spiritual things, he is suited with Angels.  

EPIG. 7.  
Art thou a child? Thou wilt not then be fed,  
But like a child, and with the children's bread:  
But thou art fed with chaff, or corn undressed:  
My soul thou savourest too much of the beast.     

VIII.  

  
PHILIPPIANS 13. 19 They mind earthly things, but our conversation is in Heaven. Venus. Div. Cupid. Ven. 
WHat means this pe●…vish brat? Wish, lullaby,  
What a●…ls my babe? what ails my babe to cry?  
Will nothing still it? will it neither be  
Pleased with the nurse's breast nor mother's knee?  
What ails my bird? what moves my froward boy  
To make such whimp'ring faces? Peace, my joy:  
Will nothing do? Come, come, this pettish brat,  
Thus cry and bawl, and cannot tell for what?  
Come buss and friends, my lamb; whish, lullaby,  
What ails my babe? what ails my babe to cry?  
Peace, peace my dear; alas, thy early years  
Had never faults to merit half these tears;  
Come smile upon me: Let thy mother spy  
Thy father's image in her baby's eye:  
Husband these guiltlesle drops against the rage  
Of harder fortunes, and the gripes of age;  
Thine eye's not ripe ●…or tea●…s: whish, lullaby;  
What ails my babe, my sweet●… faced babe to cry?  
Look, look, what's here! A dainty golden thing:  
See how the dancing bells turn round and ring  
To please my bantling! here's a knack will breed  
A hundred kisses: here's a knack indeed.  
So, now my bird is white, and looks as fair  
As Pelops shoulder, or my milk-white pair:  
Here's right the father's smile; when Mars beguiled  
Sick Venus of her heart, just thus he smiled.  Divine Cupid. 
Well may they smile alike; thy base-b●…ed boy  
And his base sire had both one cause, a toy:  
How well thei●… subjects and thei●… smil●…s agree?  
Thy Cupid finds a toy, and Mars found thee:  
●…alse Queen of beauty, Queen of false delights,  
Thy knee presents an ●…mbleme, that invites  
Man to himself, whose self-transported heart  
(Ov●…rwhelm'd with native sorrows, and the sma●…t  
Of purchased grie●…s) lies whining night and day,  
Not knowing why, till heavy he●…ld delay,  
The dull-browed Pander of despa●…r, lays by  
His leaden buskins, and presents his eye  
With antic tri●…les, which th' indulgent earth  
Makes proper objects of man's childish mirth.  
These be the coin that pass, the sweets that please;  
There's nothing good, there's nothing great but these:  
These be the pipes that base-born minds dance after,  
And turn immod'rate tears to lavish laughter;  
Whilst heavenly rap●…res pass without regard;  
Their strings are harsh and their high strains unhea●…d:  
The plough-m●…ns whistle or the trivial ●…ure  
●…ind more resp●…ct then great Apollo's lute:  
We'll look to heaven, and trust to higher joys;  
Let swine love husks, and ch●…ldren whine for toys.  
S. BERN. That is the true and chief joy, which is not conceived from the creature, but received from the Creato●…; which (being once possessed thereof) none can take from thee: whereto all pleas●…e being compared is torment, all joy is grief, sweet things are bitter, all glory is barrenness, and all de●…ectable things are despicable. S. BERN. Joy in a changeable subject must necessarily change as the subject changeth.  

EPIG. 8.  
Peace, childish Cupid, peace: thy singered eye  
But crios for what, in time, will make thee cry:  
But are thy peevish wranglings thus appeased?  
Well Mayst thou cry, that art so poorly pleased.     

Ix..  

  
ISAIAH 10. 3. What will ye do in the day of your visitation? to whom will ye ●…lie for help? and where will ye leave your glory? 

1  
IS this that jolly God, whose Cyprian bow  
Has shot so many flaming darts,  
And made so many wounded Beauties go  
Sadly perplexed with whimp'ring hearts?  
Is this that sovereign Deity that brings  
The slavish world in awe, and st●…ngs  
The blundering souls of swains, and stoops the hearts of Kings.   

2  
What Circean cha●…m, what Hecatean spite  
Has thus abused the G●…d of love?  
Great Jove was vanquished by his greater might;  
(And who is stronger-armed than Jove?)  
Or has our lust●…ull god perform'd a rape,  
And (fearing Argus' eyes) would scape  
The view of jealous earth, in this prodigious shape?   

3  
Where be those rosy cheeks, that lately scorned  
The malice of injurious Fates?  
Ah, where's that pearl portcullis, that adorned  
Those dainty two-leaved Ruby gates?  
Where be those killing eyes, that so controlled  
The world? And locks, that did enfold  
Like knots of slaming wire, like curls of burnished gold?   

4  
No, no, 't was neither He●…tean spite  
Nor charm below, nor power above;  
'T was neither Circe's spell, nor Stygian spirit,  
That thus transformed our god of Love;  
'Twas owl-eyed Lust (more potent far than they)  
Whose eyes and actions hate the day:  
Whom all the world observe, whom all the world obey.   

5  
See how the latter Trumpets dreadful blast  
Affrights stout Mars his t●…embling son!  
Se, how he startles! how he stands aghast,  
And scrambles from his melting Throne!  
Hark, how the direful hand of vengeance tears,  
The swelt'ring clouds, whilst heaven appears  
A ci●…cle filled with flame, and centred with his fears.   

6  
This is that day, whose oft report hath wo●…n  
Neglected tongues of Prophets bare;  
The faithless subject of the worldlings scorn,  
The sum of men and angel's prayer:  
This, this the day whose All-discerning light  
Ransacks the secret dens of night,  
And severs good from bad; true joys from false delight.   

7  
You grovelling worldings, you, whose wisdom trades,  
Where light ne'er shot his golden ●…ay;  
That hide your actions in Cimeri●…n ●…des,  
How will your eyes endure this day?  
Hills will be deaf, and mountains will not hea●…;  
There be no caves, no corners there,  
To shade your souls from fire, to shield your hearts from fear   
HUGO. O the extreme loath loathsomness of fleshly lust, which not only ●…sseminates the mind, but ene●…ves the body; which not only di●…taineth the soul, but disguiseth the 〈◊〉 It is ●…hered with fury and wantonness; it is accompanied with ●…ury and wantonness; and it is followed with grief and r●…ntance.  

EPIG. 9  
What? sweet-faced Cupid, has thy bastard-treasure,  
Thy boasted honours, and thy boldfaced pleasure  
Perplexed thee now? I told thee long ago,  
To what they'd bring thee, fool, To wit, to woe.     

X.  

  
NAH●…M 2. 10. She is empty, and void, and waste. 

1  
SHe's empty: hark, she sounds: there's nothing there  
But noise to fill thy ear;  
Thy vain enquiry can at length but find  
A blast of murmuring wind:  
It is a cask, that seems as full as fair;  
But merely tunned with air:  
Fond youth, go build thy hopes on better grounds:  
The soul that vainly founds  
Her joys upon this world but feeds on empty sounds.   

2  
She's empty: hark, she sounds: there's nothing in't.  
The spark-ingend'ring ●…lint  
Shall sooner melt, and hardest rance shall first  
Dissolve and quench thy thirst,  
E'er this false world shall still thy stormy breast  
With smooth faced calms of rest:  
Thou mayst as well expect Meridian light  
From shades of black-mouthed night,  
As in this empty world to find a full delight.   

3  
She's empty: hark, she sounds; 't is void and vast;  
What if some flattering blast  
Of flat●…ous honour should perchance be there,  
And whisper in thine ear●…:  
It is but wind, and blows but where it list,  
And vanish●…s like a mist:  
Poor honour earth can give! What generous mind  
Would be so base to bind  
Her heaven-bred soul a slave to serve a blast of wind?   

4  
She's empty: hark, she sounds: 't is but a ball  
For fools to play withal:  
The painted silm but of a stronger bubble,  
That's lined with silken trouble:  
It is a world, whose work and recreation  
Is vanity and vexation;  
A hag, repaired with vice-complexion, paint,  
A quest-house of complaint:  
It is a saint, a fiend; worse fiend, when most a saint.   

5  
She's empty: hark, she ●…ounds: 't is vain and void.  
What 's here to be enjoyed,  
But grief and sickness, and large bills of sorrow,  
Drawn now, and crossed to morrow?  
Or what are men, but puffs of dying breath,  
Revived with living death?  
Fond la●…, O build thy hopes on surer grounds  
Then what dull flesh propounds:  
Tru●… not this hollow world, she 's empty: hark, she sounds.   
S. CHRYS. in Ep. ad Heb. contemn riches, and thou shalt be rich; contemn glory, and thou shalt be glorious; contemn injuries, and thou shalt be a conqueror; consemne rest, and thou shalt gain rest; contemn earth, and thou shalt find Heaven. EPIG. lib. de Vanit. mundi. The world is a vanity which affordeth neither beauty to the amorous, nor reward to the laborious, nor encouragement to the industrious.  

EPIG. 10.  
This house is to be let for life or years;  
Her rent is sorrow, and her income tears:  
Cupid, 't'as long stood void; her bills make known,  
She must be dearly let; or let alone.     

XI.  

  
MATTHEW 7. 14. Narrow is the way that leadeth unto life, and few there be that find it. 

Preposterous fool, thou troulest amiss;  
Thou err'st; that's not the way, 't is this:  
Thy hopes, instructed by thine eye,  
Make thee appear more near than I;  
My floor is not so flat, so fine,  
And has more obvious rubs than thine:  
'T is true; my way is hard and straight,  
And leads me through a thorny ●…ate,  
Whose rankling pricks are sharp and fell;  
The common way to heaven 's by hell:  
'T is true; thy path is short and fair,  
And free of rubs: Ah, fool, beware,  
The safest road's not always even;  
The way to Hell 's a seeming heaven.  
Think'st thou, the Crown of Glory 's had  
With idle ease, fond Cyprian lad?  
Think'st thou, that mirth, and vain delights,  
High feed, and shadow-shortning nights,  
Soft knees, full bones, and beds of down  
Are proper Prologues to a Crown?  
Or canst thou hope to come, and view,  
Like prosperous Caesar, and subdue?  
The bondslave Usurer will trudge  
Inspite of Gouts, will turn a drudge,  
And serve his soul-condemning purse,  
T'increase it with the widows curse:  
And shall the Crown of glory stand  
Not worth the waving of a hand?  
The fleshly wanton to obtain  
His minute-lust, will count it gain  
To lose his freedom, his estate,  
Upon so dear, so sweet a rate;  
Shall pleasures thus be prized, and must  
Heaven's Palm be cheaper than a lust?  
The true-bred Spark, to hoist his name  
Upon the waxenwings of fame,  
Will sighed undaunted in a flood  
That's raised with brackish drops and blood:  
And shall the promised Crown of life  
Be thought a toy, not worth a strife?  
An ●…asie good brings easy gains;  
But things of price are bought with pains:  
The pleasing way is not the right:  
He that would conquer heaven must fight.   
S. HIERON. in Ep. No labour is hard, no time is long, wherein the glory of eternity is the mark we level at. S. GREG. lib. 8. Mor. The valour of a just man is to conquer the flesh, to contradict his own will, to quench the delights of this present life, ●…o endure and love the miseries of this world for the reward of a better, to contemn the flatteries of prosperity, and inwardly to overcome the fears of adversity.  

EPIG. 11.  
O Cupid, if thy smother way were right,  
I should mistrust this Crown were 〈◊〉:  
The way's not easy where the Prize is great:  
I hope no virtues where I smell no sweat.     

XII.  

  
GALATIANS 6. 14. God forbid that I should glory, save in the cross. 

1  
CAn nothing settle my uncertain breast, And fix my rambling love?  
Can my affections find out nothing best? But still and still remove?  
Has earth no mercy? will no Ark of rest Receive my restless Dove?  
Is there no Good, than which there's nothing higher, To bless my full desire  
With joys that never change; with joys that ne'er expire?   

2  
I wanted wealth; and at my dear request, Earth lent a quick supply;  
I wanted mirth to charm my sullen breast; And who more brisk than I?  
I wanted fame to glorify the rest; My fame flew eagle-high:  
My joy not fully ripe, but all decayed; Wealth vanished like a shade,  
My mirth began to slag, my fame began to fade.   

3  
The world's an Ocean, hurried to and fro  
With every blast of passion:  
Her lustful streams, when either ebb or flow,  
Are tides of man's vexation:  
They alter daily, and they daily grow  
The worse by alteration:  
The earth's a cask full tunned, yet wanting measure;  
Her precious wind, is pleasure;  
Her yeast is honour's puff; her lees are worldly treasure.   

4  
My trust is in the cross: let Beauty ●…ag  
Her loose, her wanton sail;  
Let countenance gilding Honour cease to brag  
In courtly terms, and veil;  
Let ditch-bred wealth henceforth forget to wag  
Her base though golden tail;  
False beauties conquest is but real loss,  
And wealth but golden dross;  
Best Honour's but a blast: my trust is in the cross.   

5  
My trust is in the cross: There lies my rest;  
My fast, my sole delight:  
Let cold-mouthed Boreas, or the hot-mouthed East  
Blow till they burst with spite:  
Let earth and hell conspri●… their worst, their best,  
And join their twisted might:  
Let showers of thunderbolts dar●… down and wound me,  
And troops of fiends surround me,  
All this may well confront; all this shall ne'er confound me.   
S. AUGUST. Christ's cross is the Chrisc●…osse of all our happiness: It delivers us from all blindness of error, and enriches our darkness with light; It resto●…th the troubled soul ●…o re●…t; It bringeth strangers to God's acquaintance; It maketh remote foreigners near neighbours; It cu●…teth off discord; concludeth a league of everlasting peace, and is the 〈◊〉 author of all good. S. BERN. in Ser. de resur. We find glory in the cross; tous that are saved it is the power of God, and the fullness of all virtues.  

EPIG. 12.  
I followed rest, rest ●…led and soon forsook me;  
I ran from grief, grief ran and over-took me.  
What shall I do? lest I be too much tossed  
On worldly crosses, Lord, let me be crossed.     

XIII.  

  
PROVERBS 26. II. As a dog returneth to his vomit, so a fool returneth to his folly. 

O I am wounded! and my wounds do smart  
Beyond my patience, or great Chiron's art;  
I yield, I yield; the day, the palm is th●…ne;  
Thy bow's more true; thy sha●…s more fierce than mine,  
Hold, hold, O hold thy conquering hand. What need  
To send more darts? the first has done the deed:  
Oft have we struggled, when our ●…quall a●…ms  
Shot equal shafts, inflicted equal harms;  
But this exceeds, and with her flaming head,  
Twyforked with death, has struck my conscience dead.  
But must I die? Ah me! If that were all,  
Then, then I'd struck my bleeding wounds, and call  
This dart a cordial, and with joy endure  
These harsh ingredients, where my grief's my cure.  
But something whispers in my dying ear,  
There is an after day; which day I fear:  
The slender debt to Nature's quickly paid,  
Discharged perchance with greater ease then made;  
But if that pale-faced Sergeant make arrest,  
Ten thousand actions would (where of the least  
Is more than all this lower world can bail)  
Be entered, and condemn me to the jail  
Of Stygian darkness, bound in red hot chains,  
And gripped with tortures worse than Titian pains.  
Farewell my vain, farewell my loose delights;  
Farewell my rambling days my reu'ling nights;  
'T was you betrayed me first, and, when ye found  
My soul at vantage, gave my soul the wound:  
Farewell my bullion gods, whose sovereign looks  
So often catched me with their golden hooks:  
Go, seek another slave; ye must all go;  
I cannot serve my God and Bullion too.  
Farewell false honour; you, whose airy wings  
Did mount my soul above the thrones of kings;  
Then slatteed me, took pet, and in disdain,  
Nipped my green buds; then kicked me down again:  
Farewell my Bow; farewell my Cyprian Quiver;  
Farewell dear world, farewell dear world for ever.  
O, but this most delicious world, how sweet  
Her pleasures relish! Ah! How jump they meet  
The grasping so ill! and with their sprightly fire,  
Revive, and raise, and rouse the rapt desire!  
For ever? O, to part so long? what? never  
Meet more? another year, and then for ever:  
Too quick resolves do resolution wrong;  
What part so soon, to be divorced so long?  
Things to be done are long to be debated;  
Heaven is not dayed. Rep●…ntance is not dated.   
S. AUGUST. lib. de util. again. poen. Go up my soul into the tribunal of thy Conscience; There set thy guilty self be●…ore thyself: Hide not thyself behind thyself, 〈◊〉 God bring thee forth before thyself. S. AUGUST. in Soliloq. In vain is that washing, where the next sin de●…ileth: He hath ill repented whose sins are repeated: that stomach is the worse for vomiting, that licketh up his vomit. ANSELM. God hath promised pardon to him that repenteth, but be hath not promised repentance to him that sinneth.  

EPIG. 13.  
Brain-wounded Cupid, had this hasly dart,  
As it hath pricked thy fancy, pier●…'d thy heart,  
'T had been thy friend: O how has it deceived thee!  
For had this dart but killed, this dart had saved thee.     

XIV.  

  
PROVERBS 24. 16. A just man falleth seven times and riseth up again, but the wicked shall fall into mischief. 

1  
'TIs but a foil at best, and that's the most  
Your skill can boast:  
My slippery footing failed me; and you trip●…  
Just as I slipped:  
My wanton weakness did herself betray  
With too much play:  
I was too bold: He never yet stood sure,  
That stands secure:  
Who ever trusted to his native strength,  
But fell at length?  
The Title's crazed the Tenure is not good,  
That claims by th'evidence of flesh and blood.   

2  
Boast not thy skill; the rigl●…eous man falls oft,  
Yet falls but soft:  
There may be dirt to mire him, but no stones  
To crush his bones:  
What if he staggers? Nay, put case he be  
Foiled on his knee;  
That very knee will bend to heaven, and woo  
For mercy too.  
The true-bred Gamester ups a fresh, and then,  
Falls to 't again;  
Whereas the leaden-hearted coward lies,  
And yields his conquered life, or cravened, dies.   

3  
Boast not thy Conquest; thou, that every hour  
Fall's●… ten times lower;  
Nay, hast not power to rise, if not, in case,  
To fall more base:  
Thou wallowest where I slip; and thou dost tumble,  
Where I but stumble:  
Thou gloryest in thy slaveries di●…ty badges,  
And fallest for wages:  
Sow●…grief and sad repentance scowrs and clears  
My stains with tears:  
Thy falling keeps thy falling still in ure;  
But when I slip I stand the more s●…cure.   

4  
Lord, what a nothing is this little Span,  
We call a Man!  
What fenny trash mainteins the smothering sires  
Of his desires!  
How slight and short are ●…is resolves at longest!  
How weak at strongest!  
O if a sinner held by thy fast hand  
Can hardly stand,  
Good God in what a desperate case are they  
That have no stay!  
Man's state implies a necessary curse;  
When not himself, he's mad; when most himself, he's worse.   
S. AMBROS. in Serm. ad vincula. Peter stood more firmly after he ●…ad lamented his fall, then before he fell. Insomuch that he found more grace than he lost grace S. CHRYS. in Ep. ad Heliod. monach. It is no such heinous matter to fall afflicted; as being down to lie dejected: It is no danger for a soldier to receive a wound in battle, but after the wound received, through despair of recovery, to refuse a remedy; for we often see wounded Champions wear the Palm at last, and after flight, crowned with victory.  

EPIG. 14.  
Triumph not Cupid, his mischance doth show  
Thy trade; doth once, what thou dost always do:  
Brag not too soon: has thy prevailing hand  
Foiled him? Ah fool, th''ve taught him how to stand?     

XV.  

  
JEREMIAH 32. 40. I will put my fear in their hearts, that they shall not depart from me. 

SO, now the soul's sublimed: her sour desires  
Are recalcined in heaven's well-tempered fires:  
The heart restored and purged from drossy nature  
Now finds the freedom of a newborn creature:  
It lives another life, it breathes new breath;  
It neither feels nor fears the sting of death.  
Like as the idle vagrant (having none)  
That boldly 'dopts each house he views his own;  
Makes every purse his chequer; and at pleasure,  
Walks forth, and taxes all the world like Caesar,  
At length by virtue of a just command,  
His sides are lent to a severer hand;  
Whereon his pass, not fully understood,  
Is texted in a manuscript of blood:  
Thus past from town to town, until he come  
A sore repentant to his native home:  
Even so the rambling heart, that idly roves  
From crimes to sin, and uncontrolled removes  
From lust to lust, when wanton flesh invites  
From old-worn pleasures to new choice delights,  
At length corrected by the filial rod  
Of his offended (but his gracious God)  
And lashed from sins to sighs; and by degrees,  
From sighs to vows; from vows to bended knees,  
From ●…ended knees, to a true pensive breast;  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 to torments, not by tongues expressed,  
〈◊〉; (and from his sinful self exiled)  
〈◊〉 a glad father, he a welcome child:  
O than it lives; O than it lives involved  
In 〈◊〉 raptures; pants to be dissolved:  
〈◊〉 royal Of spring of a second Birth  
〈◊〉 open to heaven, and shuts the doors to earth:  
If love-sick ●…ove commanded clouds should hap  
To rain such showers as quickened Danae's lap:  
Or dogs (far kinder than their purple master)  
Should lick his sores, he laughs nor weeps the faster.  
If earth (Heaven's rival) dart her idle ray;  
To heaven, 't is wax, and to the world, 't is clay:  
If earth present delights, it scorns to draw,  
But, like the jet unrubbed, disdains that straw:  
No hope deceives it, and no doubt divides it;  
No grief disturbs it; and no error guides it;  
No fear distracts it; and no rage inflames it;  
No guilt condemns it, and no folly shames it;  
No sloth besots it; and no lust enthralls it;  
No scorn afflicts it, and no passion gawls it:  
It is a ●…arknet of immortal life;  
An A●…k of peace; the lists of sacred strife;  
A purer piece of endl●…sse transitory;  
A shrine of Grace, a little throne of Glory:  
A heau'n-born offspring of a newborn birth;  
An earthly heaven; an ounce of heavenly earth.   
S. AUGUST. de spir.. & anima. O happy heart, where piety 〈◊〉; where 〈◊〉 subjects, where repentance correcteth, where obedience direct●…th, where perseverance perfecteth, where power protecteth, whe●…e devotion projecteth, where charity connecteth. S. GR●…G. Which way soever the heart turneth itself (if carefully) it shall commonly observe, that in those very things we lose God, in t●…ose very things we shall find God: It shall find the heat of his power in consideration of those things, in the love of whi●…h things he was most cold, and by what things it fell, 〈◊〉, by those things it is raised, converted.  

EPIG. 15.  
My heart! but wherefore do I call thee so?  
I have renoun●…'d my interest long ago:  
When thou wert false and fleshly, I was thine;  
Mine wert thou never, till thou wert not mine,      

THE THIRD BOOK.  


  

The Entertainment.  

ALL you whose better thoughts are newly born,  
And (Rebaptised with holy fire) can scorn  
The world's base trash, whose necks disdain to bear  
Th' imperious yoke of Satan; whose chaste ear  
No wanton songs of Sirens can surprise  
With false delight; whose more than Eagle-eyes  
Can view the glorious flames of gold, and gaze  
On glittering beams of honour, and not daze;  
Whose souls can spurn at pleasure, and deny  
The loose suggestions of the flesh draw nigh:   

And you whose amorous, whose select desires  
Would feel the warmth of those transcendent 〈◊〉,  
Which (like the rising Sun) put out the light  
Of Venus' star, and turn her day to night;  
You that would love, and have your passions crowned  
With greater happiness than can be found  
In your own wishes; you that would a●…ect  
Where neither scorn, nor guile, nor disiespect  
Shall wound your tortured souls; that would enjoy,  
Where neither want can pinch, nor fullness cloy,  
Nor double doubt afflicts, ●…or baser fear  
Unflames your courage in pursuit, draw near:  
Shake hands with earth, and let your soul respect  
Her joys no further, than her joys reflect  
Upon her maker's glory: if thou swim  
In wealth, see him in all; see all in him:  
sinkest thou in want, and is thy small cruse spent?  
See him in want; enjoy him in con●…nt:  
Conceivest him lodged in cross, or lost in pain?  
In prayer and Patience find him out again:  
Make heaven thy Mistress, let no change remove  
Thy loyal heart; be fond; be sick of love:  
What if he stop his ear, or knit his brow?  
At length he'll be as fond, as sick as thou:  
Dart up thy soul in groans: Thy secret groan  
Shall pierce his ear, s●…all pierce his ear alone:  
Dart up thy soul in vows: Thy sacred vow  
Shall find him out, where heaven alone shall know:  
Dart up thy soul in sighs: Thy whispering sigh  
Shall rouse his ears, and fear no listener nigh:  
Send up thy groans, thy sighs, thy closet vow;  
There's none, there's none shall know but heaven and thou:  
Groans fresht with vows, and vows made salt with tears,  
Unscale his eyes, and scale his conquered ears:  
Shoot up the bosom shaf●… of thy desire,  
Feathered with faith, and double-forkt with fire.  
And they will hit: Fear not, where heaven bids come:  
Heavens' never deaf, but when man's heart is dumb.     

I.  

  
ISAIAH 29. 6. My soul hath desired thee in the night. 

GOod God what horrid darkness doth surround  
My groping soul! how are my senses bound  
In utter shades; and muf●…ed from the light  
Lusk in the bosom of eternal night!  
The bold-saced Lamp of heaven can set and rise;  
And with his morning glory fill the eyes  
Of gazing mortals; his victorious ray  
Can chase the shadows, and restore the day:  
Nights bashful Empress, though she often wain,  
As oft repents her darkness, primes again;  
And with her circling horns doth re-embrace  
Her brother's wealth, and orbs her silver face.  
But ah, my Sun deep swallowed in his fall,  
Is set, and cannot shine, nor rise at all:  
My bankrupt wain can beg nor borrow light;  
Alas, my darkness is perpetual night.  
Falls have their risings, wainings have their primes,  
And desperate sorrows wait their better times;  
Ebbs have their Floods, and autumns have their Springs:  
All States have changes hurried with the swings  
Of Chance and Time, still tiding to and fro:  
Terrestrial bodies and celestial too.  
How often have I vainly groped about,  
With length'ned arms, to find a passage out,  
That I might catch those beams mine eye desires,  
And bathe my soul in those celestial fires:  
Like as the 〈◊〉, cloistered in her mue,  
To scour her downy robes, and to ren●…  
Her broken flags, preparing t' overlook  
The timorous Mallard at the sliding brook,  
Je●… oft from perch to perch; from stock to ground;  
From ground to window, thus surveying round  
Her dove-befeathered Prison, till at length,  
(Calling her noble birth to mind, and strength  
Whereto her wing was born) her ragged beak  
Nips off her dangling jesses, strives to break  
Her gingling fetters, and begins to bate  
At every glimpse, and darts at every grate:  
Even so my weary soul, that long has been  
An Inmate in this T●…nement of sin,  
Locked up by cloud-browed error, which invites  
My cloistered thoughts to feed on black delights,  
Now scorns her shadows, and begins to dart  
Her winged desires at thee, that only art  
The Sun she seeks, whose rising beams can fright  
These dusky clouds that make s●… dark a night:  
Shine forth, great Glory, shine; that I may see  
Both how to loathe myself, and honour Thee:  
But if my weakness force thee to deny  
Thy flames, yet lend the twilight of thine eye:  
If I must want those Beams I wish, yet grant,  
That I, at least, may wish those Beams I want.   
S. AUGUST. Soliloqu. cap. 33. There was a great and dark cloud of vanity before mine eyes, so that I could not see the Sun of Justice, and the Light of Truth: I being the son of darkness, was involved in darkness: I loved my darkness, because I knew not thy light: I was blind, and loved my blindness, and did walk from darkness to darkness: But Lord thou art my God, who hast led me from darkness, and the shadow of death; ●…ast called me into this glorious light, and behold, I see.  

EPIG. I.  
My soul, cheer up; what if the night be long?  
Heaven finds an ear, when sinners find a tongue?  
Thy tears are morning showers: heaven bids me say,  
When Peter's cock begins to crow, 't is day.     

II.  

  
PSALM 69. 3. O Lord, thou knowest my foolishness, and my sins are not hid from thee. 

SEest thou this fulsome idiot? In what measure  
He seems transported with the antic pleasure  
Of childish baubles? canst thou but admire  
The empty fullness of his vain desire?  
Canst thou conceive such poor delights as these  
Can fill th' insatiate soul of man, or please  
The fond aspect of his deluded eye?  
Reader, such very fools are thou and I:  
False puffs of honour; the deceitful streams  
Of wealth; the idle, vain, and empty dreams  
Of pleasure, are our traffic, and ensnare  
Our souls, the threefold subject of our care:  
We toil for trash, we barter solid joys  
For airy tr●…s; sell our heaven for toys:  
We snatch at barley grains, whilst pearls stand by  
Despised; such very fools art thou and I.  
Aymest thou at honour! does not the idiot shake it  
In his left hand? fond man, step forth and take it:  
Or wouldst thou wealth? see how the fool presents thee  
With a full basket; if such wealth contents thee:  
Wouldst thou take pleasure? if the fool unstride  
His prancing Stallion, thou mayst up and 〈◊〉:  
Fond man, such is the pleasure, wealth, and honour  
The earth affords such fools as dote upon her;  
Such is the game whereat ●…ths idiots sly;  
Such idiots, ah, such fools are thou and I:  
Had rebell-mans' fool-hardiness extended  
No further than himself, and there had ended,  
It had been just; but, thus enraged to sly  
Upon th' eternal eyes of Majesty,  
And drag the Son of Glory from the breast  
Of his indulgent Father; to a●… rest  
His great and sacred Person; in disgrace,  
To spit and spaul upon his Sun bright face;  
To taunt him with base terms; and being bound,  
To scourge his soft, his trembling sides; to wound  
His head with thorns; his heart with human 〈◊〉;  
His hands with nails, and his pale slank with spears:  
And then to paddle in the pure●… stream  
Of his spilt blood, is more than most extreme:  
Great builder of mankind, canst thou propound  
All this to thy bright eyes, and not confound  
Thy handiwork? O, canst thou choose but see,  
That mad'st the eye? can aught behid from thee?  
Thou seest our persons, Lord, and not our guilt;  
Thou seest not what thou Mayst, but what thou wilt:  
The Hand that formed us, is enforced to be  
A Screen set up betwixt thy work and thee:  
Look, look upon that Hand, and thou shalt spy  
An open wound, a thoroughfare for thine eye;  
Or if that wound be closed, that passage be  
Denied between thy gracious eyes and me,  
Yet view the scar; that scar will countermand  
Thy wrath: O read my fortune in thy hand.   
S. CHRYS. Hom. 4. Joan. Fools seem to abound in wealth, when they want all things; they seem to enjoy happiness, when indeed they are only most miserable; neither do they understand that they are del●…ded by their fancy, till they be delivered from their folly. S. GREG. in Mor. By so much the more are we inwardly foolish, by how much we strive to seem outwardly wise.  

EPIG. 2.  
Rebellious fool, what has thy folly done:  
Controlled thy God, and crucified his son?  
How sweetly has the Lord of life deceived thee?  
Thou sheddest his blood, and that shed blood has saved thee.     

III.  

  
PSALM 6. 2. Have mercy, Lord, upon me, for I am weak; O Lord, heal me, for my bones are vexed. Soul. Jesus. Soul 
AH, Son of David, help:  Jes. 
What sinful 〈◊〉 Implores the Son of David?  Soul 
It is I:  Jes. 
Who art thou?  Soul 
Oh, a deeply wounded breast  
That's heavy laden, and would fain have rest.  Jes. 
I have no scraps, and dogs must not be fed  
Like household children with the children's bread.  Soul 
True, Lord; yet tolerate a hungry whelp  
To lick their crumbs: O son of David, help.  Jes. 
Poor Soul, what ailest thou?  Soul 
O I burn, I fry;  
I cannot rest, I know not where to fly  
To find some case; I turn my blubbered facé  
From man to man; I ●…oul from place to place,  
T'avoid my tortures, to obtain relief,  
But still am dogged and haunted with my grief:  
My midnight torments call the sluggish light,  
And when the morning 's come, they woo the night.  Jes. 
Surcease thy tears, and speak thy free desires.  Soul 
Quench, quench my flames, and suage these scorching fires.  Jes. 
Canst thou believe my hand can cure thy grief?  Soul 
Lord, I believe; Lord, help my unbelief.  Jes. 
Hold forth thy arm, and let my fingers try  
Thy pulse; where chiefly doth thy torment lie?  Soul 
From head to foot; it reigns in every part,  
But plays the self-lawed tyrant in my heart.  Jes. 
Canst thou dig●…st? canst relish wholesome food?  
Haw stands thy taste?  Soul 
To nothing that is good:  
All sinful ●…rash, and earth's unsavoury stuff  
I can digest and relish well enough.  Jes. 
Is not thy blood as cold ●…s hot, by turns?  Soul 
Cold to what's good; to what is bad it burns.  Jes. 
How old's thy grief?  Soul 
I took it at the fall  
With eating fruit.  Jes. 
'T is Epiden●…call:  
Thy blood's infected, and th' infection sp●…ng  
From a bad liver: 'T is a fever strong  
And full of death unless, with present speed,  
A vein be oped; thou must die, or bleed.  Soul 
O I am faint and spent: that lance that shall  
Let forth my blood, let's forth my life withal:  
My soul wants cordials, and has greater need  
Of blood, than (being spent so far) to ble●…d:  
I faint already: If I bleed, I die.  Jes. 
'T is either thou-must bleed, sick soul, or I:  
My blood's a cordial. He that sucks my veins,  
Shall ●…se his own, and conquer greater pains  
Than these: cheer up; this precious blood of mine  
Shall cure thy grief; my heart shall bleed for thine:  
Believe, and view me with a faithful eye,  
Thy soul shall neither languish, bleed, ●…or die.  
S. AUGUST. lib. 10. Confess. Lord, be merciful unto me: Ah me: Behold, I hide not my wounds: Thou art a Ph●…sician, and I am sick; Thou a●…t merciful, and I am miserable. S. GREG. in Pastoral. O wisdom, with how sweet an a●…t d●…th thy wine and oil vestore health to my healthless soul! How powersully merciful, how mercifully powerful art tho●… powerful for me, merciful to me!  

EPIG. 3.  
Canst thou be sick, and such a doctor by?  
Thou canst not live, unless thy doctor die!  
Strange kind of grief, that finds no medicine good  
To suage her pains, but the physician's blood!     

IV.  

  
PSALM 25. 18. Look upon my affliction and my pain, and forgive all my sins. 

BOth work and strokes? both lash and labour too?  
What more could Edom, or proud Ashur do?  
Stripes after stripes? and blows succeeding blows?  
Lord, has thy scourge no mercy, and my woes  
No end? my pains no ease? no intermission?  
Is this the state? Is this the sad condition  
Of those that trust thee? will thy goodness please  
T'allow no other favours? none but these?  
Will not the thet'rick of my torments move?  
Are these the symptoms? these the signs of love?  
Is't not enough, enough that I ●…ulfill  
The toilsome task of thy laborious mill?  
May not this labour expiate and pu●…ge  
My sin, without th' addition of thy scourge?  
Look on my cloudy brow, how fast it rains  
Sad showers of sweat, the fruits of fruitless pains:  
Behold these ridges; see what purple furrows  
Thy plow has made; O think upon those sorrows  
That once were thine; wil●…, wilt thou not be wooed  
To mercy, by the charms of sweat and blood?  
Canst thou forget that drowsy mount, wherein  
Thy dull Disciples slept? was not my sin  
There punished in thy soul? did not this brow  
Then sweat in thine? were not those drops enough?  
Remember Golgotha, where that springtide  
O'rflowed thy sovereign sacramental side:  
There was no sin, there was no guilt in Thee,  
That caused those pains; thou sweat'st, thou bledst for me.  
Was there not blood enough, when one small drop  
Had power to ransom thousand worlds, and stop  
The mouth of Justice? Lord, I bled before  
In thy deep wounds; can Justice challenge more?  
Or dost thou vainly labour to hedge in  
Thy losses from my sides? my blood is thin,  
And thy free bounty scorns such easy thrift;  
No, no, thy blood came not as lone but gift.  
But must I ever grind? And must I earn  
Nothing but stripes? O wilt thou disaltern  
The rest thou gav'st? Hast thou perused the curse  
Thou laidest on Adam's fall, and made it worse?  
Canst thou repent of mercy? Heaven thought good  
Lost man should feed in sweat; not work in blood:  
Why dost thou wound th' already wounded breast?  
Ah me! my life is but a pain at b●…st:  
I am but dying dust: my days, a span;  
What pleasure tak'st thou in the blood of man?  
Spare, spare thy scourge, and be not so austere;  
Send fewer strokes, or lend more strength to bear.   
S. BERN. Hom. 81. in Cant. Miserable man! who shall deliver me 〈◊〉 the reproach of this shameful bondage? I am a miserable man but a ●…ree man; ●…ce, because a man; miserable, because a servant: In regard of my bondage, miserable; in regard of my will, inexcusable: For my will, that was ●…ree, beslaved itself to sin, by assenting to sin; for he that committeth sin is the servant to sin.  

EPIG. 4.  
Tax not thy God: Thine own defaults did urge  
This twofold punishment; the mill the scourge.  
Thy sin's the author of thyself tormenting:  
Thou grindest for sinning; scourged for not repenting.     

V.  

  
JOB 10. 9 Remember, I beseech thee, that thou hast made me as the clay, and wilt thou bring me to dust again? 

THus from the bosom of the new-made earth  
Poor man was delved, and had his unborn birth;  
The same the stuff the selfsame hand doth trim  
The plant that fades, the beast that dies, and him:  
One was their sire, one was their common mother,  
Plants are his sisters, and the beast his brother,  
The elder too; beasts draw the selfsame breath,  
Wax old alike, and die the selfsame death:  
Plants grow as he, with fairer robes arrayed;  
Alike they flourish, and alike they ●…ade:  
The beast in sense exceeds him and in growth,  
The three-aged oak doth thrice exceed them both:  
Why look'st thou then so big, thou little span  
Of earth? What art thou more in being man?  
Ay, but my great creator did inspire  
My chosen earth with that diviner fire  
Of reason; gave me judgement and a will;  
That to know good; this to choose good from ill:  
He put the reins of power in my free hand,  
And jurisdiction over sea and land:  
He gave me art to lengthen out my span  
Of life, and made me all, in being man:  
I, but thy passion has committed treason  
Against the sacred person of thy reason:  
Thy judgement is co●…rupt, perverse thy will;  
That knows no good, and this makes choice of ●…ll:  
The greater height sends down the deeper fall;  
And good d●…clin'd turns bad, turns worst of all.  
Say then, proud inch of living ●…arth, what can  
Thy greatness claim the more in being man?  
O but my soul transcends the pitch of nature,  
Born up by th' Image of her high creator;  
Outbraves the life of reason, and beats down  
Her waxen wings, kicks off her brazen crown.  
My earth's a living Temple t' entertain  
The King of Glory, and his glorious train:  
How can I mend my title then? where can  
Ambition sinned a higher style than man?  
Ah, but that Image is defaced and soiled;  
Her Temple's razed, her Altars all desiled;  
Her vessels are polluted and distained  
With loathed lust, her ornaments profaned;  
Her oil-forsaken lamps, and hallowed tapers  
Put out; her incense breathes unsavoury vapours:  
Why swellest thou then so gi●… thou little span  
Of earth? what art thou more in being man?  
Ete●…nall Potter, whose blessed hands did lay  
My course foundation from a sod of clay,  
Thou know'st my slender vess●…l's apt to leak;  
Thou know'st my brittle temper's prone to break;  
Are my bones brazzil, or my flesh of oak?  
O, mend what thou hast made, what I have broke:  
Look, look with gentle eyes, and in thy day  
Of vengeance, Lord, remember I am clay.   
S. AUGUST, S●…liloq, 32. Shall I ask, who made me? It was thou that madest me, without whom nothing was made: Thou art my maker, and I thy work. I thank thee, my Lord God, by whom I live, and by whom all things su●…sist, because thou madest me: I thank th●…, O my Potter, because thy hands have made me, because thy hands have formed me.  

EPIO. 5.  
Why swellest thou, man, puft up with fame and purse?  
thou'rt better earth, but born to dig the worse:  
Thou cam'st from ea●…th, to earth thou must return,  
And art but earth cast from the womb to th' urn.     

VI.  

  
JOB 7. 20. I have sinned; what shall I do unto thee, O thou preserver of men? why hast thou set me as a mark against thee? 

LOrd, I have done; and, Lord, I have misdone;  
'Tis folly to contest, to strive with one  
That is too strong; 't is folly to assail  
Or prove an arm, that will, that must prevail.  
I've done, I've done; these trembling hands have thrown  
Their daring weapons down: the day's thine own:  
Forbear to strike where thou hast won the field;  
The palm, the palm is thine: I yield, I yield.  
These veach'rous hands that were so vainly bold  
To try a thrivelesse combat, and to hold  
Self-wounding weapons up, are now extended  
For mercy from thy hand; that knee that bended  
Upon her guardlesse guard, doth now repent  
Upon this naked floor; See both are bent,  
And sue for pity: O my ragged wound  
Is deep and desperate, it is drenched and drowned  
In blood and briny tears: It doth begin  
To stink without, and putrify within:  
Let that victorious hand, that now appears  
Just in my blood, prove gracious to my tears:  
Thou great Preserver of presumptuous man,  
What shall I do? what satisfaction can  
poor dust and ashes make? O if that blood  
That yet remains unshed were half as good  
As blood of oxen; if my death might be  
An offering to atone my God and me;  
I would disdain injurious life, and stand  
A suitor to be wounded from thy hand.  
But may thy wrongs be measured by the span  
Of life? or balanced with the blood of man?  
No, no, eternal sin expects for guerdon,  
Eternal pen●…nce, or eternal pardon:  
Lay down thy weapons, turn thy wrath away,  
And pardon him that hath no price to pay;  
Enlarge that soul, which base presumption binds;  
Thy justice cannot lose what mercy finds:  
O thou that wilt not bruise the broken reed,  
Rub not my sores, no●… prick the wounds that bleed.  
Lord, if the peevish infant fights and flies,  
With unpared weapons, at his mother's eyes,  
Her frowns (half mixed with smiles) may chance to show  
An angry love-trick on his arm, or so;  
Where if the babe but make a lip and cry,  
Her heart begins to melt, and by and by  
She coaks his dewy-cheeks; her babe she blisses,  
And chokes her language with a thousand kisses:  
I am that child; lo, here I prostrate lie,  
Pleading for mercy; I repent and cry  
For gracious pardon: let thy gentle ears  
Hear that in words, what mothe●…s judge in tears:  
See not my 〈◊〉, Lord, but through my fear,  
And look on every trespass through a tear:  
Then calm thy anger, and appear more mild:  
Remember, th' art a Father, I, a child.   
S. BERN. Ser. 21. in Cant. Miserable man! Who shall deliver me from the reproach 〈◊〉 this shameful bondage? I am a miserable man, but a free man: Free, because like to God; miserable, because against God: O keeper of mankind, why hast thou set me as a mark against thee? Thou hast set me, because thou hast not hindered me: It is just that thy enemy should be my enemy, and that he who repugneth thee, should repugn me: I who am against thee, am against myself.  

EPIG. 6.  
But formed, and sight? but bo●…n, and then rebel?  
How small a blast will make a bubble swell?  
But dare the ●…oore affront the hand that laid it?  
So apt is dust to fly in 's face that made it.     

VII.  

  
JOB 13. 24. Wherefore hidest thou thy face, and holdest me for thine enemy? 

WHy dost thou shade thy lovely face? O why  
Doth that eclipsing hand so long deny  
The sunshine of thy soul-enliu'ning eye?   

Without that Light what light remains in me?  
Thou art my Life, my Way, my Light; in thee  
I live, I move, and by thy beams I see.   

Thou art my Life; If thou but turn away,  
My life's a thousand deaths: thou art my Way:  
Without thee, Lord, I travel not but stray.   

My Light thou art; without thy glorious sight,  
Mine eyes are darkened with perpetual night.  
My God, thou art my Way, my Life, my Light.   

Thou art my Way; I wander, if thou fly:  
Thou art my Light; If hid, how blind am I●…  
Thou art my Life; If thou withdraw, I die.   

Mine eyes are blind and dark, I cannot see;  
To whom, or whether should my darkness flee,  
But to the Light? And who's that Light but thee?   

My path is lost; my wandering steps do stray;  
I cannot safely go, nor safely stay;  
Whom should I seek but thee, my Path, my Way?   

O, I am dead: to whom shall I, poor I,  
Repair? to whom shall my sad ashes fly  
But Life? And where is Life but in thine eye?   

And yet thou turn'st away thy face, and fliest me;  
And yet I sue for grace, and thou deniest me;  
Speak, art thou angry, Lord, or only tryest me?   

Unskreen those heavenly lamps, or tell me why  
Thou shad'st thy face; perhaps thou thinkst, no eye  
Can view those flames, and not drop down and die.   

If that be all, shine forth, and draw thee nigher;  
Let me behold and die; for my desire  
Is Phoenix. like to perish in that fire.   

Death conquered Laz'rus was redeemed by thee;  
If I am dead, Lord, see death's prisoner free;  
Am I more spent, or stink I worse than he?   

If my pusst light be out, give leave to tine  
My slameless-snuss at that bright Lamp of thine;  
O what's thy Light the less for lighting mine?   

If I have lost my Path, great Shepherd, say,  
Shall I still wander in a doubtful way?  
Lord, shall a Iamb of Israel's sheepfold st●…ay?   

Thou art the 〈◊〉 〈◊〉; the blind man's Eye;  
The dead man's Life; on thee my hopes rely;  
If thou remove, I err; I grope; I die.   

Disclose thy sunbeams; close thy wings, and stay;  
See, see how I am blind, and dead, and stray,  
O thou, that art my Light, my Life, my Way.   
S. AUGUST. Soliloqu. cap. 1. Why dost thou hide thy face? Happily thou 〈◊〉 say, none can see thy face and live: Ah Lord, let me die, that I may see thee; let me see thee, that I may die: I would not live, but die. That I may see Christ, I desire death; That I may live with Christ, I despise life. ANSELM. Med. cap. 5. O excellent hiding, which is become my persection! My God, Thou hidest thy treasure, to kindle my desire; Thou hidest thy pearl, to inflame the seeker; Thou delayest ●…o give, that Thou Mayst teach me to importune; seem'st not to hear, to make m●… persever.  

EPIG. 7.  
If 〈◊〉 all-quickening eyes vouchsafe to shine  
Upon our souls, we slight; If not, we whine  
Our equinoctial hearts can never lie  
Secure beneath the Tropics of that eye.     

VIII.  

  
JE REMIA●… 9 1. O that my head were waters, and mine eyes a fountain of tears, that I might weep day and night. 

O That mine eyes were springs, and could transform  
Their drops to seas! my sighs into a storm  
Of zeal and sacred violence, wherein  
This labouring uèssel laden with he●… sin,  
Might suffer sudden shipwreck, and be split  
Upon that rock, where my drenched soul may sit  
O'rwhelmed with plenteous passion; O and there  
Drop, drop into an everlasting tear!  
Ah me! that every sliding vein that wanders  
Through this vast Isle did work her wild meanders  
In brackish tears in stead of blood, and swell  
This flesh with holy dropsies, from whose well,  
Made warm with sighs, may fume my wasting breath  
Whilst I dissolve in steams, and reek to death!  
These narrow sluices of my dribbling eyes  
Are much too straight for those quick springs that rise,  
And hourly fill my temples to the top;  
I cannot shed for every sin a drop.  
Great builder of mankind, why hast thou sent  
Such swelling floods, and made so small a vent●…  
O that this flesh had been composed of snow,  
In stead of earth, and bones of ice, that so  
Feeling the fervour of my sin, and loathing  
The ●…ire I feel I might be thawed to nothing!  
O thou, that didst with hopeful joy entomb  
Me thrice three moons in thy laborious womb,  
And then, with joyful pain, brought'st forth a Son,  
What worth thy labour, has thy labour done!  
What was there! Ah! what was there in my birth  
That could deserve the easiest smile of mirth?  
A man was born: Alas, and what's a man?  
A skuttle full of dust, a measured span  
Of flitting Time; a furnished pack, whose wares  
Are sullen griefs, and soul-tormenting cares:  
A vale of tears; a vessel tunned with breath,  
By sickness brought, to be drawn out by dea●…h:  
A hapless, helpless thing, that born doth cry  
To feed; that feeds to live; that lives to die.  
Great God and Man, whose eyes spent drops so often  
For me, that cannot weep enough, O soften  
These marble brains, and strike this slintie rock;  
Or if the music of thy Peter's cock  
Will more prevail, fill, fill my harkening ears  
With that sweet sound, that I may melt in tears:  
I cannot weep, until thou broach mine eye;  
Or give me vent, or else I burst and die.   
S. AMBROS. in Psal. 118. He that committeth sins to be wept for, cannot weep for sianes committed: And being himself most lamentable, hath no tears to lament his offences. NAZIANZ. Orat. 3. Tears are the deluge of sin, and the world's sacrifice. S. HIERON. in Esaiam. Prayer appeaseth God, but a tear compelleth him: That moveth him, but this constraineth him.  

EPIO. 8.  
Earth is an Island ported round with fears;  
The way to heaven is through the Sea of tears●…  
It is a stormy passage, where is found  
The wrack of many a ship, but no man drowned.     

Ix..  

  
PSALM 18. 5. The sorrows of hell compassed me about, and the snares of death prevented me. 

IS not this Type well cut? In every part  
Full of rich cunning? filled with Zeuxian Art?  
Are not the hunters, and their Stygian hounds  
Limned full to th'life? didst ever hear the sounds,  
The music, and the lip-divided breaths  
Of the strong-winded horn, recheats, and deaths  
Done more exact? th' infernal Nimrod's hollow?  
The lawless Purliews? and the game they follow?  
The hidden engines? and the snares that lie  
So undiscovered, so obscure to th' eye?  
The new-drawn net? and her entangled prey?  
And him that closes it? Beholder, say,  
Is't not well done? seems not an em'lous strife  
Betwixt the rare cut picture and the life?  
These Purliew-men are Devils; and the Hounds,  
(Those quick-nosed cannibals that scour the grounds)  
Temptations, and the Game these Fiends pursue,  
Are human souls, which still they have in view;  
Whose fury if they chance to scape by flying,  
The skilful Hunter plants his net, close lying  
On th' unsuspected earth, baited with treasure,  
Ambitious honour, and self-wasting pleasure;  
Where if the soul but stoop, death stands prepared  
To draw the net, and drawn, the soul's ensnated.  
Poor soul! how 〈◊〉 thou hurried to and fro?  
Where canst thou safely stay? where safely go?  
If stay, these hot-mouthed hounds are apt to tear thee;  
If go, the snares enclose, the nets ensnare thee:  
What good in this bad world has power t' invite thee  
A willing guest? wherein can earth delight thee?  
Her pleasures are but itch; her wealth but 〈◊〉;  
A world of dangers, and a world of snares:  
The close pursuers busy hands do plant  
Snares in thy substance; Snares attend thy want;  
Snares in thy credit; Snares in thy disgrace;  
Snares in thy high estate; Snares in thy base;  
Snares tuck thy bed, and Snares arround thy board;  
Snares watch thy thoughts, and Snares attach thy word;  
Snares in thy quiet; Snares in thy commotion;  
Snares in thy 〈◊〉; Snares in thy devotion;  
Snares lurk in thy resolves; Snares in thy doubt;  
Snares lie within thy heart, and Snares without;  
Snares are above thy head, and Snares beneath;  
Snares in thy sickness; Snares are in thy death:  
O, if these Purliews be so full of danger,  
Great God of hearts, the world's sole sovereign Ranger,  
Preserve thy deer, and let my soul be blessed  
In thy safe forest, where I seék for rest:  
Then let the hellhounds roar; I fear no ill;  
Rouse me they may, but have no power to kill.   
S. AMBROS. lib. 4. in cap. 4. Lucae. The reward of honours, the height of power, the delicacy of diet, and the beauty of a harlot are the snares of the devil. S. AMBROS. de bono mortis. whilst thou seekest pleasures thou runnest into snares; for the eye of the harlot is the snare of the Adulterer. SAVANAR. In eating, he setteth before us gluttony; I● generation, luxury; In labour, sluggishness; In conversing, envy; In governing, covetousness; In correcting, anger; In honour, pride; In the heart, he setteth evil thoughts; In the mouth, evil words; In actions, evil works: when awake, he moveth us to evil actions; when asleep, to filthy dreams.  

EPIG. 9  
Be sad, my Heart, deep dangers wait thy mirth;  
Thy soul's waylaid by Sea, by Hell, by Earth:  
Hell has her hounds; Earth, snares; the Sea a shelf;  
But most of all, my Heart, beware thyself.     

X.  

  
PSALM 143. 2. Enter not into judgement with thy servant, for in thy sight shall no man living be justified. Jesus. Justice. Sinner. Jes. 
BRing forth the prisoner, Justice.  Just. 
Thy commands  
〈◊〉 done, just Judge; See here the prisoner stands.  Jes. 
What hath the prisoner done? Say, what's the cause  
Of his commitment?  Just. 
He has broke the laws  
Of his too gracious God; conspired the death  
Of that great Majesty that gave him breath,  
And heaped transgression, Lord, upon transgression.  Jes. 
How know'st thou this?  Just. 
Even by his own confession  
His sins are crying; and they cried aloud:  
They cried to heaven; they cried to heaven for blood.  Jes. 
What sayst thou, sinner? hast thou ought to plead,  
That sentence should not pass? hold up thy head,  
And show thy brazen, thy rebellious face.  Sin. 
Ah me! I dare not: I'm too vile and base  
To tread upon the earth, much more to 〈◊〉  
Mine eyes to heaven: I need no other 〈◊〉  
Then mine own conscience; Lord, I must confess,  
I am no more than dust, and no whit less  
Than my 〈◊〉 styles me. Ah, if thou  
Search too severe, with too severe a brow,  
What flesh can stand? I have transgressed thy laws;  
My merits plead thy vengeance, not my cause.  Just. 
Lord, shall I strike the blow?  Jes. 
Hold, Justice, stay:  
Sinner, speak on; what hast thou more to say?  Sin. 
Vile as I am, and of myself abhorred,  
I am thy handiwork, thy creature, Lord,  
Stamped with thy glorious Image, and at first  
Most like to thee, though now a poor accurst  
Convicted catiff, and degenerous creature,  
Here trembling at thy bar.  Just. 
Thy fault's the greater.  
Lord, s●…ll I strike the blow?  Jes. 
Hold, Justice, stay:  
Speak, sinner; hast thou nothing more to say?  Sin. 
Nothing but Mercy, Mercy; Lord, my state  
Is miserably poor and desperate;  
I quite renounce myself, the world, and flee  
From Lord to  Jesus: 
from thyself, to thee.  Just. 
Cease thy vain hopes; my angry God has vowed  
Abused mercy must have blood for blood:  
Shall I yet strike the blow?  Jes. 
Stay, Justice, hold;  
My bowels yearn, my fainting blood grows cold,  
To view the trembling wretch; methinks I spy  
My father's image in the prisoners eye.  Just. 
I cannot hold.  Jes. 
Then turn thy thirsty blade  
Into my sides: let there the wound be made:  
Cheer up, dear soul, redeem thy life with mine:  
My soul shall smart, my heart shall bleed for thine.  Si●…. 
O groundless deeps! O love beyond degree!  
Th' offended dies to set th' offender free.  
S. AUGUST. Lord, if I have done that, for which thou Mayst damn me; thou hast not lost that, whereby thou Mayst save me: Remember not, sweet Jesus, thy justice against the sinner, but thy benignity towards thy creature: Remember not to proceed against a guilty soul, but remember thy mercy towards a miserable wretch: Forget the insolence of the provoker, and behold the misery of the invoker; for what is Jesus but a Saviour? ANSELM. Have respect to what thy son hath done for me, and forget what my sins have done against thee: My flesh hath provoked thee to vengeance, let the flesh of Christ move thee to mercy: It is much that my rebellions have deserved; but it is more that my Redeemer hath marited.  

EPIG. 10.  
Mercy of mercies! He that was my drudge  
Is now my Advocate, is now my Judge:  
He suffers, pleads, and sentences, alone:  
Three I adore, and yet adore but One.     

XI.  

  
PSALM 69. 15. Let not the water-flood overflow me, neither let the deeps swallow me up. 

THe world's a Sea; my flesh a Ship that's manned  
With labouring Thoughts, and steered by reason's hand:  
My Heart's the seaman's Card, whereby she sails;  
My loose Affections are the greater Sails:  
The topsail is my fancy, and the Gusts  
That fill these wanton sheets are worldly Lusts.  
Prayer is the Cable, at whose end appears  
The Anchor Hope, ne'er slipped but in our fears:  
My Will's th' unconstant Pilot, that commands  
The staggering Keel; my sins are like the Sands:  
Repentance is the Bucket, and mine Eye  
The Pump, 〈◊〉 (but in extremes) and dry:  
My Conscience is the Plummet that doth press  
The deeps, but seldom cries, A sathom less:  
Smooth Calm's security; the Gulf, despair;  
My Fraught's Corruption, and this Life's my Fair:  
My Soul's the Passenger, confusedly driven  
From fear to fright; her landing-Port is Heaven.  
My Seas are stormy, and my Ship doth leak;  
My sailor's rude; my Steersman saint and weak:  
My Canvace torn, it slaps from side to side;  
My Cable's cracked, my Anchor's slightly tied;  
My Pilot's crazed, my thipwrack-Sands are cloaked;  
My Bucket's broken, and my Pump is choked;  
My Calm's deceitful; and my Gulf too near;  
My Wares are flubbered, and my fares too dear:  
My Plummet's light, it cannot sink nor sound;  
O shall my Rock-bethreatned Soul be drowned?  
Lord, still the Seas, and shield my Ship from harm;  
Instruct my sailors, guide my steersmans' arm:  
Touch thou my compass, and renew my Sails  
Send stiffer courage, or send milder gales;  
Make strong my Cable; bind my Anchor faster;  
Direct my ●…ilot, and be thou his Master;  
Object the Sands to my more serious view,  
Make sound my Bucket, bore my Pump anew:  
New cast my Plummet, make it apt to try  
Where the Rock●… lurk, and where the Quick sands lie;  
Guard thou the Gulf with love, my Calms with care;  
Cleanse thou my Fraught; acc●…pt my slender Fare;  
Refresh the Sea-sick passenger; cut short  
His Voyage; land him in his wished Port:  
Thou, Thou, whom winds and stormy seas obey,  
That through the deep gav'st grumbling Isr'ell way,  
Say to my Soul, be safe; and than mine eye  
Shall scorn grim death, although grim death stand by;  
O thou whose strength-reviving Arm did cherish  
Thy sinking Peter, at the point to perish,  
Reach forth thy hand, or bid me tread the wave,  
I'll come, I'll come: the voice that calls will save.   
S. AMBROS. Apol. post. pro David. Cap. 3. 〈◊〉 The cons●…uence of lusts make a great tempest, which in this sea disturbeth the sea-saring soul, that reason cannot govern it. S. AUGUST. Soliloqu. Cap 35. We labour in a boisterous sea: Thou standest upon the shore and 〈◊〉 our dangers: Give us grace to hold a middle course ●…wixt S●…ylla and Charybdis, that both dangers escaped, we 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 at our Port secure.  

Ep 10. 11.  
My Soul, the seas are rough, and thou a stranger  
In these false coasts; O keep aloof; there's danger:  
Cast forth thy plummet; see a rock appears;  
Thy ship wants sea-room; make it with thy tears.     

XII.  

  
JOB 14. 13. O that thou wouldst hide me in the grave, that thou wouldst keep me secret until thy wrath be past! 

O Whither shall I fly? what path untrod  
Shall I seek out to scape the flaming rod  
Of my ostended, of my angry God?   

Where shall I sojourn? what kind sea will hide  
My head from Thunder? where shall I abide,  
Until his flames be quenched or laid aside?   

What, if my feet should take their hasty flight,  
And seek protection in the shades of night?  
Alas, no shades can blind the God of Light.   

What, if my soul should take the wings of day,  
And find some desert; if the spring away,  
The wings of vengeance ●…ip as fast as they.   

What if some solid rock should entertain  
My frighted soul? Can solid rocks restrain  
The stroke of Justice, and not cleave in twain?   

Nor Sea, nor Shade, nor Shield, nor Rock, nor Cave,  
Nor silent deserts, nor the sullen Grave,  
Where slame-eyed fury means to smi●…e, can save.   

The Seas will part; Graves open; Rocks will split;  
The Shield will cleave; the frighted Shadows slit;  
Where Justice aims, her fiery darts must hit.   

No, no, if stern-browed vengeance means to thunder,  
There is no place above, beneath, nor under,  
So close, but will unlock, or rive in sunder.   

'T is vain to flee; 't is neither here nor there  
Can scape that hand until that hand forbear;  
Ah me! where is he not, that's everywhere?   

'T is vain to flee; till gentle mercy show  
Her better eye, the farther off we go,  
The swing of Justice deals the mightier blow.   

Th' ingenious child, corrected, doth not fly  
His angry mother's hand, but clings more nigh,  
And quenches with his tears her flaming eye.   

Shadows are faithless, and the rocks are false;  
No trust in brass, no trust in marble walls;  
Poor cots are even as safe as Prince's halls.   

Great God, there is no safety here below;  
Thou art my fortress, though thou seem'st my foe,  
'Tis thou that strik'st the stroke must guard the blow.   

Thou art my God; by thee I fall or stand;  
Thy Grace hath given me courage to withstand  
All tortures, but my conscience and thy hand.   

I know thy Justice is thyself; I know,  
Just God, thy very self is Mercy too;  
If not to thee, where? whither should I go?   

Then work thy will; If passion bid me flee,  
My reason shall obey; my wings shall be  
Stretched out no further than from thee to thee.   
S. AUGUST. in Psal. 30. Whither fly I? To what place can I safely fly? To what mountain? To what den? To what strong house? What castle shall I hold? What walls shall hold me? Whithersoever I go, myself followeth me: For whatsoever thou fliest, O man, thou Mayst, but thy own conscience: wheresoever O Lord, I go, I find thee if angry, a Revenger; if appeased, a Redeemer: what way have I, but to fly from thee to thee: That thou Mayst avo●d thy God, address thee to thy Lord.  

EPIG. 12.  
Hath vengeance found thee? Can thy fears command  
No rocks to shield thee from her thundering hand?  
Know'st thou not where to scape? I'll tell thee where;  
My soul make clean thy conscience; hide thee there.     

XIII.  

  
JOB 10. 20. Are not my days few? Cease then, and let me alone, that I may bewail myself a little. 

MY glass is half unspent: Forbear t'air●…st  
My thri●…sse day too soon: my poor request  
Is that my glass may ●…un but out the rest.   

My time-devoured minutes will be done  
Without thy h●…lp; see, see how swift they run:  
Cut not my thread before my thread be spun.   

The gain's not great I purchase by this stay;  
What loss sustain'st thou by so small delay,  
To whom ten thousand years are but a day?   

My following eye can hardly make a shift  
To count my winged hours; they fly so swift,  
They scarce deserve the bounteous name of gift.   

The secret wheels of hurrying Time do give  
So short a warning, and so fast they drive,  
That I am dead before I seem to live.   

And what's a Life? a weary Pilgrimage,  
Whose glory in one day doth fill the stage  
With Childhood, Manhood, and decrepit Age.   

And what's a Life? the ●…lourishing array  
Of the proud Summer meadow, which today  
Wears her green plush, and is tomorrow hay.   

And what's a Life? A blast sustained with clothing,  
Maintained with food, retained with vile self-loathing,  
Then weary of itself, agained to nothing.   

Read on this dial, how the shades devour  
My short-lived winter's day; hour eats up ho●…re;  
Alas, the totall's but from eight to sour.   

Behold these lilies (which thy hands have made  
Fair copies of my life, and open laid  
To view) how soon they droop, how soon they fade!   

Shade not that dial, night will blind too soon;  
My nonaged day already points to noon;  
How simple is my suit! how small my boon!   

Nor do I beg this slender inch, to while  
The time away, or falsely to beguile  
My thoughts with joy; here's nothing worth a smile.   

No, no: 't is not to please my wanton ears  
With frant●…k mirth, I beg but ho●…es, not years:  
And what thou giv'st me, I will give to tea●…s.   

Draw not that soul which would be rather led;  
Th●…t Seed has yet not broke my serpent's head;  
O shall! dy before my sins are dead?   

Behold these rags; am I a sitting guest  
To taste the dainties of thy royal feast,  
With hands and face unwashed, ungirt, unblessed?   

First, let the Jordan streams (that ●…ind supplies  
From the deep fountain of my heart) arise,  
And cleanse my spots, and clear my leprous eyes.   

I have a world of sins to be lamented;  
I have a sea of tears that must be vented:  
O spare till th●…n; and then I die contented.   
S. AUGUST. lib de Civit. Dei Cap. 10. The time wherein we live is taken from the space of our life; and what remaineth is daily made less and less, in so much that the time of our life is nothing but a passage to death. S. GREG. lib. 9 Cap. 44. in Cap 10. Jeb. As moderate afflictions bring tears, so immoderate take away tears; In so much that sorrow becometh no sorrow, which swallowing up the mind of the afflicted, taketh away the sense of the affliction.  

EPIG. 13.  
Fear'st thou to go, when such an Arm invites thee?  
Dreadest thou thy loads of sin? or what affrights thee?  
If thou begin to fear, thy fear begins;  
Fool, can he bear thee hence, and not thy sins?     

XIV.  

  
DELLTERONOMY 32. 29. O that men were wise, and that they understood this, that they would consider their latter end. Flesh. Spirit. ●…l. 
WHat means my sister's eye so oft to pass  
Through the long entry of that optic glass?  
Tell me; what secret virtue doth invite  
Thy wrinkled eye to such unknown delight?  Sp. 
It helps the sight, makes things remote appear  
In perfect view; It draws the object near.  Fl. 
What sense-delighting objects dost thou spy?  
What doth that glass present before thine eye?  Sp. 
I see thy foe, my reconciled friend,  
Grim Death, even standing at the Glasses end;  
His left hand holds a branch of Palm; his right  
Holds forth a two-edged sword.  Fl. 
A proper sight!  
And is this all? doth thy Prospective please  
Th' abused fancy with no shapes but these?  Sp. 
Yes, I behold the darkened Sun bereaven  
Of all his light, the battlements of heaven  
Swelt'ring in flames; the Angel-guarded son  
Of glory on his high Tribunal-Throne;  
I see a Brimstone Sea of boiling fire,  
And Fiends, with knotted whips of slaming wire,  
Torturing poor souls, that gnash their teeth in vain,  
And gnaw their flame-tormented tongues for pain.  
Look, sister, how the queazy-stomacked Graves  
Vomit their dead, and how the purple waves  
Scalded their consumelesse bodies, strongly cursing  
All wombs for bearing, and all paps for nursing.  Fl. 
Can thy distempered fancy take delight  
In view of tortures? these are shows t' affright:  
Look in this glass triangular; look here,  
Here's that will ravish eyes.  Sp. 
What seest thou there?  Fl. 
The world in colours, colours that distain  
The checks of Pro●…eus, or the silken train  
Of Flora's Nymphs; such various sorts of hue,  
As Sun-confronting ●…is never knew:  
Here, if thou please to beautify a town,  
Thou Mayst; or with a hand, turned upside down;  
Here mayst thou scant or widen by the measure  
Of thine own will; make short or long at pleasure:  
Here mayst thou tire thy fancy, and advise  
With shows more apt to please more curious eyes.  Sp. 
Ah fool! that dotest on vain, on present toys,  
And disrespectest those true, those future joys!  
How strongly are thy thoughts befooled, alas,  
To dote on goods that perish with thy glass!  
Nay, vanish with the turning of a hand!  
Were they but painted colours, it might stand  
With painted reason, that they might devote thee;  
But things that have no being to besot thee?  
Foresight of future torments is the way  
To balk those ills which present joys bewray;  
As thou hast fooled thyself, so now come hither,  
Break that fond glass, and let's be wise together.  
BONAVENT. de contemptu seculi. O that men would be wise, understand, and ●…oresee: Be wise, to know three things: The multitude of those that are to be damned: the few number of those that are to be saved; and the vanity of transitory things: understand three things; the multitude of sins, the omission of good things, and the loss of time: Foresee three things, the danger of death, the last judgement, and eternal punishment.  

EPIG. 14.  
What, Soul, no further yet? what ne'er commence  
Master in Faith? Still bachelor of Sense?  
Is't insufficiency? Or what has made thee  
Oreslip thy lost degree? thy lusts have stayed thee.     

XV.  

  
PSALM 30. 10. My life is spent with grief, and my years with sighing. 
WHat sullen star ruled my untimely birth,  
That would not lend my days one hour of mitth!  
How oft have these bare knees been bent, to gain  
The slender alms of one poor smile, in vain!  
How often, tired with the fastidious light,  
Have my saint lips implored the shades of night?  
How often have my nightly torments prayed  
For lingering twilight, glutted with the shade?  
Day worse than night, night worse than day appears,  
In fears I spend my nights; my days in tears:  
I moan unpitt●…'d, groan without relief,  
There is nor end, nor measure of my grief.  
The smiling flower salutes the day; it grows  
Untouched with care; it neither spins nor sows:  
O that my tedious life, were like this flower,  
Or freed from grief, or finished with an hour:  
Why was I born? Why was I born a man?  
And why proportioned by so large a span?  
Or why suspended by the common lot,  
And being born to die, why die I not?  
Ah me! why is my sorrow-wasted breath  
Den●…'d the easy privilege of death?  
The branded slave, that tugs the weary oar,  
Obtains the Sabbath of a welcome shore;  
His ransomed stripes are healed; his native soil  
Sweetens the memory of his foreign toil:  
But ah! my sorrows are not half so blessed;  
My labour finds no point, my pains no rest:  
I batter sighs for tears, and tears for groans,  
Still vainly rolling Sisyphean stones:  
Thou just Observer of our flying hours,  
That, with thy Adamantine fangs, devours  
The brazen monuments of renowned Kings,  
Doth thy glass stand? Or be thy moulting wings  
Unapt to fly? If not why dost thou spare  
A willing breast; a breast that stands so fair?  
A dying breast, that hath but only breath  
To beg a wound, and strength to crave a death?  
O that the pleased heavens' would once dissolve  
These fleshly fetters, that so fast involve.  
My hampered soul; then should my soul be blessed  
From all these ills, and wrap her thoughts in rest:  
Till then, my days are months, my months are years,  
My years are ages to be spent in tears:  
My grief's entailed upon my wasteful breath,  
Which no recovery can cut off, but death;  
Breath drawn in cottages, puffed out in thrones,  
Begins, continues, and concludes in groans.  
INNOCENT. de vilitate condit. humanae. O who will give mine eyes a fountain of tears, that I may bewail the miserable ingress of man's condition; the sinful progress of man's conversation, the damnable egress in man's dissolution? I will consider with tears, whereof man was made, what man doth, and what man is to do: Alas, he is formed of earth, conceived in sin, born to punishment: He doth evil things, which are not lawful; He doth ●…ilthy things, which are not decent; He doth vain things, which are not ●…pedient.  

EPIG. 15.  
My heart, Thy life's a debt by Bond, which bears  
Asecret date; the use is groans and Tears:  
Plead not; usurious Nature will have all,  
As well the interest as the principal.      

THE FOURTH BOOK.  


  

I.  Romans 7. 23. I see another Law in my members warring against the Law of my mind, and bringing me into captivity to the Law of sin. 

1  
O How my will is hurried to and fro,  
And how my unresolved resolves do vary!  
I know not where to fix; sometimes I go  
‛ This way, then that, and then the quite contrary:  
I like, dislike; lament for what I could not;  
I do, undo; yet still do what I should not;  
And at the self same instant will the thing I would not.   

2  
Thus are my weather-beaten thoughts oppressed  
With th' earth-bred winds of my prodigious will;  
Thus am I hourly tossed from East to West  
Upon the rolling streams of good and ill:  
Thus am I driven upon these slippery suds,  
From real ills to false apparent goods:  
My life's a troubled sea, composed of ebbs and floods.   

3  
The curious Penman, having t●…imm'd his page  
With the dead language of his dabbled quill,  
Let's fall a heedless drop, then in a rage  
Cashiers the fruits of his unlucky skill;  
Even so my pregnant soul in th' insant bud  
Of her best thoughts, show●…s down a coal-black flood  
Of unadvised ills, and cancels all her good.   

4  
Sometimes a sudden flash of sacred heat  
Warms my chill soul, and se●…s my thoughts in frame:  
But soon ●…hat fire is shouldered from her seat  
By lustful Cupid's much inferior flame:  
I feel two flames, and yet no flame entire;  
Thus are the mongrel thoughts of mixed desire  
Consumed between that heavenly and this earthly fire.   

5  
Sometimes my trash-disdaining thoughts outpass  
The common period of terrene conceit;  
O then, methinks I scorn the thing I was,  
Whilst I stand ravished at my new estate:  
But when th' Icarian wings of my desire  
Feel but the warmth of their own native sire,  
O than they melt and plunge within their wonted mire.   

6  
I know the nature of my wavering mind;  
I know the frailty of my fleshly will:  
My Passion's eagle-eyed; my judgement blind;  
I know what's good, but yet make choice of ill.  
When th' Ostrich wings of my desires shall be  
So dull, they cannot mount the least degree,  
Yet grant my soul desire but of desiring thee.   
S. BERN. Med. 9 My heart is a vain heart, a vagabond and instable heart; while it is led by its own judgement, and wanting Divine counsel cannot subsist in itself, and whilst it divers ways seeketh rest, findeth none, but remaineth miserable through labour, and void of peace: It agreeth not with itself; it dissenteth from itself; it altereth resolutions, changeth the judgement, frameth new thoughts, pulleth down the old, and buildeth them up again: It willeth and willeth not; and never remaineth in the same state. S. AUGUST. de verb. Apost. When it would, it cannot; because when it might, it would not: Therefore by an evil will man lost his good power.  

EPIG. 1.  
My soul, how are thy thoughts disturbed, confined,  
Enlarged betwixt thy members and thy mind!  
Fix here or there; thy doubt-depending cause  
Can ne'er expect one verdict twixt two Laws.     

II.  

  
PSALM 119. 5. O that my ways were directed to keep thy Statutes? 

1  
THus I, the object of the world's disdain,  
With pilgrim-pace surround the weary earth:  
I only relish what the world counts vain;  
Her mirth's my grief; her sullen grief, my mirth;  
Her light my darkness; and her truth my error;  
Her freedom is my jail; and her delight my terror.   

2  
Fond earth! proportion not my seeming love  
To my long stay; let not thy thoughts deceive thee;  
Thou art my prison, and my hone's above;  
My life's a preparation but to leave thee:  
Like one that seeks a door, I walk about thee:  
With thee I cannot live; I cannot live without thee.   

3  
The world's a labyrinth, whose anfractuous ways  
Are all composed of rubs and crooked meanders:  
No resting here; He's hurried back that stays  
A thought; and he that goes unguided wanders:  
Her way is dark, her path untrod, uneu'n;  
So hard's the way from earth; so hard's the way to heaven.   

4  
This guring labyrinth is betrenched about  
On either hand with streams of sulphurous fire,  
Streams closely sliding, erring in and out,  
But seeming pleasant to the fond descrier;  
Where if his footsteps trust their own invention,  
He falls without redress, and sinks beyond dimension.   

5  
Where shall I seek a Guide? where shall I meet  
Some lucky hand to lead my trembling paces?  
What trusty Lantern will direct my feet  
To scape the danger of these dangerous places?  
What hopes have I to pass without a Guide?  
Where one gets safely through, a thousand fall beside,   

6  
An unrequested star did gently slide  
Before the Wisemen to a greater Light;  
Back-sliding Isr'el found a double Guide;  
A Pillar, and a Cloud; by day, by night:  
Yet in my desperate dangers, which be far  
More great than theirs, I have nor Pillar, Cloud, nor star,   

7  
O that the pinions of a clipping Dove  
Would cut my passage through the empty air;  
Mine eyes being ceil, how would I mount above  
The reach of danger and forgotten care!  
My backward eyes should ne'er commit that fault,  
Whose lasting guilt should build a Monument of Salt.   

8  
Great God, that art the flowing Spring of Light,  
every mine eyes with thy refulgent Ray:  
Thou art my Path; direct my steps aright;  
I have no other Light, no other Way:  
I'll trust my God, and him alone pursue;  
His Law shall be my Path; his heavenly Light my Clue.   
S. AUGUST. Soliloqu. cap. 4. O Lord, who art the Light, the Way, the Truth, the Life; in whom there is no darkness, error, vanity, nor death: The Light, without which there is darkness; The Way, without which there is wandering; The Truth, without which there is error; The Life, without which there is death: Say, Lord, Let there be Light, and I shall see Light, and eschew darkness; I shall see the Way, and avoid wandering; I shall s●…e the Truth, and shun error; I shall see Life, and escape death: Illuminate, O illuminate my blind soul, which ●…itteth in darkness, and the sh●…dow of death: and direct my feet in the way of peace.  

EPIG. 2.  
Pilgrim, trudge on: What makes thy soul complain  
Crowns thy complaint. The way to rest is pain:  
The road to resolution lies by doubt:  
The next way home's the farthest way about.     

III.  

  
PSALM 17. 5. Stay my steps in thy paths, that my feet do not slide. 

1  
WHen e'er the old Exchange of profit rings  
Her silver Saints-bell of uncertain gains,  
My merchant soul can stretch both legs and wings;  
How I can run, and take unwearied pains!  
The charms of profit are so strong, that I  
Who wanted legs to go find wings to fly.   

2  
〈◊〉 time-beguiling Pleasure but advance  
Her lustful trump, and blow her bold alarms,  
O how my sportful ●…oul can frisk and dance,  
And hug that Siren in her twined arms!  
The sprightly voice of sinew-strengthning pleasure  
Can lend my bedrid soul both legs and leisure.   

3  
If blazing Honour chance to fill my veins  
With flattering warmth, and flash of Courtly fire,  
My soul can take a pleasure in her pains;  
My lofty strutting steps disdain to tire;  
My antic knees can turn upon the hinges  
Of compliment, and sk●…ue a thousand cringes.   

4  
●…ut when I come to Thee, my God, that art  
The royal mine of everlasting treasure,  
The real Honour of my better part,  
And living Fountain of eternal pleasure,  
How nervelesse are my limbs! how faint and flow!  
I have nor wings to fly, nor legs to go.   

5  
So when the streams of swift-foot Rhine convey  
Her upland riches to the Belgic shore;  
The idle vessel slides the wat'ry lay,  
Without the blast, or tug, of wind, or oar;  
Her slippery keel divides the silver foam  
With ease; so facile is the way from home.   

6  
But when the home-bound vessel turns her sails  
Against the breast of the resisting stream,  
O than she slugs; nor sail, nor oar prevails;  
The Stream is sturdy, and her Tides extreme:  
Each stroke is loss, and every tug is vain:  
A Boat-lengths purchase is a League of pain.   

7  
Great All in All, that art my rest, my home;  
My way is tedious, and my steps are slow:  
Reach forth thy helpful hand, or bid me come:  
I am thy child, O teach thy child to go:  
Conjoin thy sweet commands to my desire,  
And I will venture, though I fall or tire.   
S. AUGUST. Ser. 15. de Verb. Apost. Be always displeased at what thou art, if thou desirest to attain to what thou art not: For where thou hast pleased thyself, there thou abidest: But if thou sayest, I have enough, thou perishest: always add, always walk, always proceed; neither stand still, nor go back, nor deviate: He that standeth still, proceedeth not; He goeth back, that continueth not; He deviateth, that revolteth: He goeth better that creepeth in 〈◊〉 way, than he that runneth out of his way.  

EPIG. 3.  
Fear not, my Soul, to lose for want of cunning;  
Weep not; heaven is not always got by running:  
Thy thoughts are swift, although thy legs be slow;  
True love will creep, not having strength to go.     

IV.  

  
PSALM 119. 120. My flesh trembleth for fear of thee, and I am afraid of thy judgements. 

LEt others boast of luck, and go their ways  
With their fair game; know vengeance seldom playe●…  
To be too forward, but doth wisely frame  
Her backward Tables for an aftergame:  
She gives thee leave to venture many a blot;  
And, for her own advantage, hits thee not;  
But when her pointed Tables are made fair,  
That she be ready for thee, then beware;  
Then, if a necessary blot be set,  
She hits thee; wins the game, perchance the set:  
If prosperous chances make thy casting high,  
Be wisely temperate; cast a serious eye  
On after dangers, and keep back thy game;  
Too forward seed-times make thy harvest lame:  
If left-hand Fortune give thee left-hand chances,  
Be wisely patient; let no envious glances  
Repine to view thy gamesters heap so fair;  
The hindmost Hound takes oft the doubling Hare.  
The world's great Dice are false; sometimes they go  
Extremely high, sometimes extremely low:  
Of all her gamesters he that plays the least  
Lives most at ease, plays most secure and best:  
The way to win, is to play fair, and swear  
Thyself a servant to the Crown of fear:  
Fear is the primer of a Gamesters skill:  
Who fears not Bad st●…nds most unarmed to Ill:  
The Ill that's wisely feared, is half withstood;  
And fear of Bad is the best foil to Good:  
True Fear's th' elixir, which in days of old  
Turned leaden Crosses into Crowns of Gold:  
The World's the Tables; Stakes, eternal life;  
The Gamesters, heaven and I; unequal strife!  
My Fortunes are my Dice, whereby I frame  
My indisposed Life: this Life's the Game;  
My sins are several Blots; the Lookers on  
Are Angels; and in death the Game is done:  
Lord, I'm a Bungler, and my Game doth grow  
Still more and more unshaped; my Dice run low:  
The Stakes are great; my car●…lesse Blots are many;  
And yet thou passest by, and hit'st not any:  
Thou art too strong; and I have none to guide me  
With the least jog; the lookers on deride me:  
It is a Conquest undeserving Thee,  
To win a Stake from such a Worm as me:  
I have no more to lose; If we persever,  
'T is lost; and that once lost I m lost for ever.  
Lord, wink at faults, and be no●… too severe,  
And I will play my Game with greater fear;  
O give me Fear, ere Fear has past her date:  
Whose blot being hit, than fears, fears then too late.   
S. BERN. Ser. 54. in Cant. There is nothing so e●…ectuall to obtain Grace, to retain Grace, and to regain Grace, as always to be sound before God n●…t over-wise, but to ●…ear: Happy art thou if thy heart be replenished with three ●…ears; a sear for received Grace, a g●…eater fear for lost Grace, a greatest ●…ear to recover Grace. S. AUGUST. super Psalm. Present fear begetteth eternal security: Fear God, which 〈◊〉 above all, and no need to fear man at all.  

EPIG. 4.  
Lord, shall we grumble when thy flames do seourge us?  
Our sins breathe fire; that fire returns to purge us.  
Lord, what an alchemist art thou, whose skill  
Transmutes to perfect Good from pe●…fect ill!     

V.  

  
PSALM 119. 37. Turn away mine eyes from regarding vanity. 

1  
HOw like to threads of flax  
That touch the flame, are my inflamed desires!  
How like to yielding wax  
My soul dissolves before these wanton ●…ires!  
The fire, but touched, the flame but felt,  
Like flax, I burn; like wax, I melt.   

2  
O how this flesh doth draw  
My fettered soul to that deceitful ●…ire!  
And how th' eternal Law  
Is baffled by the law of my desire!  
How truly bad, how seeming good  
Are all the laws of flesh and blood!   

3  
O wretched state of men,  
The height of whose ambition is to borrow  
What must be paid again  
With griping interest of the next day's sorrow!  
How wild his thoughts! How apt to range!  
How apt to vary! Apt to change!   

4  
How intricate and nice  
Is man's perplexed way to man's desire!  
Sometimes upon the ice  
He slips, and sometimes falls into the ●…ire;  
His progress is extreme and bold,  
Or very hot, or very cold.   

5  
The common food he doth  
Sustain his soul-tormenting thoughts withal,  
Is honey in his mouth  
To night, and in his heart, to morrow, gall;  
'Tis oftentimes, within an hour,  
Both very sweet and very sour.   

6  
If sweet Corinna smile,  
A heaven of joy breaks down into his heart:  
Corinna frowns awhile?  
Hell's torments are but copies of his smart:  
Within a lustful heart doth dwell  
A seeming heaven, a very Hell.   

7  
Thus worthless, vain, and void  
Of comfort, are the fruits of earth's employment;  
Which ere they be enjoyed  
Distract us, and d●…stroy us in th' enjoyment;  
These be the pleasures that are prized  
When heaven's cheap pen'worth stands despised.   

8  
Lord, quench these hasty flashes,  
Which dart as lightning from the thundering skies,  
And every minute, dashes  
Against the wanton windows of mine eyes:  
Lord, close the casement, whilst I stand  
Behind the curtain of thy hand.   
S. AUGUST. Soliloqu. cap. 4. O thou Sun that illuminatest both Heaven and Earth! Woe be unto those eyes which do not behold thee: woe be unto these blind eyes which cannot behold thee: woe be unto those which turn away their eyes that they will not behold thee: woe be unto those that turn away their eyes that they may behold vanity. S. CHRYS. sup. Matth. 19 What is an evil woman but the enemy of friendship, an unavoidable pain, a necessary mischief, a natural tentation, a desiderable calamity, a domestic danger, a delectable inconvenience, and the nature of evil painted over with the colour of good  

EPIG. 5.  
'T is vain, great God, to close mine eyes from ill,  
When I resolve to keep the old man still:  
My rambling heart must covenant first with thee,  
Or none can pass betwixt mine eyes and me.     

VI.  

  
ESTHER 7. 3. If I have found favour in thy sight, and if it please the King, let my life be given me at my petition. 

THou art the great Assuerus, whose command  
Doth stretch from Pole to Pole; the world's thy land;  
Rebellious Vashti's the corrupted will,  
Which being called refuses to fulfil  
Thy just command: Esther, whose tears condole  
The razed City's the regen'rate Soul;  
A captive maid, whom thou wilt please to grace  
With nuptial Honour in stout Vashti's place:  
Her kinsman, whose unbended knee did thwart  
Proud Hanans' glory, is the fleshly part:  
The sober Eunuch, that recalled to mind  
The new-built gibbet (Haman had divined  
For his own ruin) fifty cubits high,  
Is lustfull-thought-controlling chastity;  
Insulting Haman is that fleshly lust  
Whose red-hot fury, for a season, must  
Triumph in pride, and study how to tread  
On Mordecay, till royal Esther plead.   

Great King, my sent-for Vashti will not come;  
O let the oil o'th' blessed Virgins womb  
Cleanse my poor Esther; look, O look upon her  
With gracious eyes; and let thy Beams of honour  
So scour her captive stains, that she may prove  
A holy Object of thy heavenly love:  
anoint her with the spikenard of thy graces,  
Then try the sweetness of her chaste embraces:  
Make her the partner of thy nuptial bed,  
And set thy royal Crown upon her head:  
If then ambitious Haman chance to spend  
His spleen on Mordecay, that scorns to bend  
The wilful stiffness of his stubborn knee,  
Or basely crouch to any Lord but thee;  
If weeping Esther should pref●…rre a groan  
Before the high tribunal of thy Throne,  
Hold forth thy golden Sceptre, and a●…ord  
The gentle audience of a gra●…ious Lord:  
And let thy royal Esther be possessed  
Of half thy kingdom, at her dear request:  
Curb lustful Haman; him that would disgrace,  
Nay, ravish thy fair Queen before thy face:  
And as proud Haman was himself ensnared  
On that self gibbet, that himself prepared;  
So nail my lust, both puni●…hment and guilt  
On that dear cross that mine own lusts have buil●….   
S. AUGUST. in Ep. O Holy Spirit always inspire me with holy works; Constrain ●…e, that I may do: Counsel me, that I may love thee; Confirm ●…e, that I may hold thee; Conserve me, that I may no●… lose thee. S AUGUST. sup. Joan. The Spirit rusts where the flesh resteth: For as the flesh is 〈◊〉 with sweet things, the Spirit is refreshed with sow●…e. Ibidem. Wouldest thou that thy flesh obey thy spirit? Then let thy spirit obey thy God: Thou must be governed, that thou Mayst govern.  

EPIG. 6.  
Of Mercy and Justice is thy kingdom built;  
This plagues my sin; and that removes my guilt:  
When e'er I sue, Assuerus like decline  
Thy Scep●…re; Lord, say, Half my kingdom's thine.     

VII.  

  

CANTICLES 7. II. Come, my beloved, let us go forth into the fields, and let us remain in the villages. 

1  Christ. Soul. C●…r. 
COme, come my dear, and let us both retire  
And whiff the dainties of the fragrant fields:  
Where warbling Phil'mel and the shrill-mouthed choir  
Chant forth their raptures; where the Turtle builds  
Her lonely nest; and where the newborn briar  
Breathes forth the sweetness that her April yields:  
Come, come my lovely fair, and let us try  
These rural delicates; where thou and I  
May melt in private ●…ames, and fear no slander by.   

2  Soul. 
My hearts eternal joy, in lieu of whom  
The earth's a blast, and all the world a bubble;  
Our city-mansion is the fairer home,  
But Countrey-sweets are tanged with lesser trouble:  
Let's try them both, and choose the better; come;  
A change in pleasure makes the pleasure double:  
One thy commands depends my go, or tarry;  
I'll stir with Martha, or I'll stay with Mary:  
Our hearts are firmly fixed, although our pleasures vary.   

3  Chr. 
Our country mansion (situate on high)  
With various Objects, still renews delight;  
Her arched roof's of unstained Ivory:  
Her wall's of fie●…y-sparkling Chrysolite;  
Her pavement is of hardest Prophety;  
Her spacious windows are all glazed with bright  
And fluming Carbuncles; no need require  
Titan's faint ●…ayes, or Vulcan's feebler fire;  
And every Gate's a Pearl; and every Pearl, entire.   

4  Soul. 
Fool that I was! how were my thoughts deceived!  
How falsely was my fond conceit possessed!  
I took it for an Hermitage, but paved  
And daubed with neighbouring dirt, and thacht at best;  
Alas, I ne'er expected more, nor craved;  
A Turtle hoped but for a Turtles nest:  
Come, come, my dear, and let no idle stay  
Neglect th' advantage of the headstrong day;  
How pleasure grates that fe●…ls the curb of dull delay!   

5  Chr. 
Come then, my Joy; let our divided paces  
Conduct us to our fairest territory;  
O there we'll twine our souls in sweet embraces;  Soul. 
And in thine a●…ms I'll tell my passion story:  Chr. 
O there I'll crown thy hea●… with all my graces;  Soul. 
And all those graces shall r●…flect thy glory:  Chr. 
O there I'll feed thee with celestial Manna;  
I'll be thy Hanna.  Soul. 
And I, thy Elkanah.  Chr. 
I'll found my trump of joy.  So. 
And I'll resound Hosanna    
S. BERN. O blessed Contemplation! The death of vices, and the life of virtues! Thee the Law and Prophets admire: who ever attei●…ed perfection, if not by thee! O blessed Solitude, the Magazine of celestial treasure! by thee things earthly, and transitory, are changed into Heavenly, and eternal. S. BERN. in Ep. Happy is that house, and blessed is that Congregation, where Martha still complaineth of Mary.  

EPIG. 7.  
Mechanic soul, thou must not only do  
With Martha; but, with Mary, ponder too:  
Happy's that house where these fair sisters vary;  
But most, when Martha's reconciled to Mary.     

VIII.  

  
CANTICLES 1. 3. Draw me; we will follow after thee by the savour of thy Ointments. 

THus like a lump of the corrupted mass,  
I lie secure, long lost, before I was:  
And like a block, beneath whose burden lies  
That undiscovered wo●…m that never dies,  
I have no will to rouse, I have no power to rise.   

Can stinking Lazarus compound, or strive  
With deaths entangling fetters, and revive?  
Or can the water buried Axe implore  
A hand to raise it; or itself restore,  
And from her sandy deeps approach the dryfoot shore?   

So hard's the task for sinful flesh and blood  
To lend the smallest step to what is good;  
My God, I cannot move the least degree;  
Ah! If but only those that active be,  
None should thy glory see, none should thy glory see.   

But if the Potter please t' inform the clay;  
Or some strong hand remove the block away;  
Their lowly fortunes soon are mounted higher,  
That proves a vess●…l, which before was mire;  
And this being hewn, may serve for better use than sire.   

And if that life-restoring voice command  
Dead Laz'rus forth; or that great prophet's hand  
Should charm the sullen waters, and begin  
To beckon, or to dart a stick but in,  
Dead Laz'rus must revive, and th' Axe must sloat again.   

Lord, as I am, I have no power at all  
To hear thy voice, or echo to thy call;  
The gloomy Clouds of mine own guilt benight me;  
Thy glorious beams, nor dainty sweets invite me;  
They neith●…r can direct; nor these at all delight me.   

See how my sin-bemangled body lies,  
Nor having power to will, nor will to rise!  
Shine home upon thy Creature, and inspire  
My liveless will with thy regen'rate fi●…e;  
The first degree to do, is only to desire.   

Give me the power to will, the will to do;  
O raise me up, and I will strive to go:  
Draw me, O draw me with thy treble twist,  
That have no power but merely to resist;  
O lend me strength to do, and then command thy list.   

My Soul's a Clock, whose wheels (for want of use  
And winding up, being subject to th' abuse  
Of eating ●…ust) wants vigour to fulfil  
Her twelve hours' task, and show her maker's skill,  
But idly sleeps unmoved, and standeth vainly still.   

Great God, it is thy work: and therefore good.  
If thou be pleased to cleanse it with thy blood,  
And wind it up with thy soul-moving keys,  
Her busy wheels shall serve thee all her days;  
Her hand shall point thy power, her hammer strike thy praise   
S. BERN. Serm. 21. in Cant. Let us run, let us run, but in the savour of thy Ointments, not in the confidence of our merits, nor in the greatness of our strength: we trust to run, but in the multitude of thy mercies, for though we run and are willing it is not in him that willeth, nor in him that runneth, but in God that showeth mercy. O let thy mercy return, and we will run: Thou like a G●…ant, runnest by thy own power; we, unless thy ointment breath upon us, cannot run.  

EPIG. 8.  
Look not, my Watch, being once repaired to stand  
Expecting motion from thy maker's hand.  
H'as wound thee up, and cleansed thy clogs with blood:  
If now thy wheels stand still thou art not good.     

Ix..  

  
CANTICLES 8. 1. O that thou wert as my brother, that sucked the breasts of my mother, I would find thee without, and I would kiss thee. 

1  
COme, come my blessed Infant, and immure thee  
Within the Temple of my sacred arms;  
Secure mine arms, mine arms shall then secure thee  
From Herod's fury, or the high-Priests harms;  
Or if thy dangered life sustain a loss,  
My folded arms shall turn thy dying cross.   

2  
But ah, what savage Tyrant can behold  
The beauty of so sweet a face as this is,  
And not himself be by himself controlled,  
And change his fury to a thousand kisses?  
One smile of thine is worth more mines of treasure  
Then there be Myriads in the days of Cesar.   

3  
O, had the Tetrarch, as he knew thy birth,  
So known thy stock, he had not sought to paddle  
In thy dear blood; but prostrate on the earth,  
Had veiled his Crown before thy royal Cradle,  
And laid the Sceptre of his Glory down,  
And begged a heavenly for an Earthly Crown.   

4  
Illustrious Babe! how is thy handmaid graced  
With a rich armful! how dost thou decline  
Thy Majesty, that wert so late embraced  
In thy great father's arms, and now in mine!  
How humbly gracious art thou, to refresh  
Me with thy Spirit, and assume my flesh.   

5  
But must the treason of a traitors Hail  
Abuse the sweetness of these ●…uby lips?  
Shall marble-hearted cruelty ass●…il  
These Alabaster sides with knotted whips?  
And must these smiling Roses entertain  
The blows of scorn, and flurts of base disdain?   

6  
Ah! must these dainty li●…tle sprigs that twine  
So fast about my neck, be pie●…c'd and torn  
With ragged nails? and must these brows resign  
Their Crown of Glory for a crown of thorn?  
Ah, must this blessed Infant taste the pain  
Of deaths injurious pangs? nay worse, be slain?   

7  
Sweet Ba●…e! At what dear rates do wretched I  
Commit a sin! Lord, every sin's a dart;  
And every tr●…spasse lets a javelin sly;  
And every javelin wounds thy bleeding heart:  
Pardon, sweet Babe, what I have done amiss;  
And seal that granted pardon with a kiss.   
BONAVENT. Soliloqu Cap. 1. O sweet Jesu, I knew not that thy kisses were so sweet, nor thy society so sweet, nor thy attraction so virtuous: For when I love thee, I am clean; when I touch thee, I am chaste; when I receive thee, I am a virgin: O most sweet Jesus, thy embraces defile not, but cleanse; thy attraction polluteth not, but sanctifieth: O Jesu, the Fountain of uni●…ersall sweetness, pardon me, that I believed so late, that so much sweetness is in thy embraces.  

EPIG. 9  
My burden's greatest: Let not A●…las boast:  
Impartial Reader, judge which bears the most:  
He bears but heaven; my folded arms sustain  
Heavens' maker, whom heaven's heaven cannot contain.     

X.  

  
CANTICLES 3. 1. In my bed by night I sought him that my soul loved; I sought him, but I found him not. 

THe learned cynic, having lost the way  
To honest men, did in the height of day,  
By Taper-light, divide his steps about  
The peopled streets to find this dainty out;  
But failed: The cynic searched not where he ought:  
The thing he sought for was not where he sought.  
The wiseman's task seemed harder to be done,  
The Wisemen did by ne'er-light seek the son,  
And found: the Wisemen searched it where they ought;  
The thing they hoped to find was where they sought.  
One seeks his wishes where he should; but then  
Perchance he seeks not as he should, nor when:  
Another searches when he should, but there  
He fails; not seeking as he should, nor where:  
Whose soul desires the good it wants, and would  
Obtain, must seek Where, As, and When he should:  
How often have my wild affections led  
My wasted soul to this my widowed bed,  
To seek my Lover, whom my soul desires!  
(I speak not, Cupid, of thy wanton fires:  
Thy fires are all but dying sparks to mine;  
My flames are full of heaven, and all Divine)  
How often have I sought this bed, by night,  
To find that greater by this lesser light!  
How oft have my unwitnessed groans lamented  
Thy dearest absence! Ah how often vented  
The bitter tempests of despairing breath,  
And tossed my soul upon the waves of death!  
How often has my melting heart made choice  
Of silent tears, (tears louder than a voice)  
To plead my grief, and woo thy absent ear!  
And yet thou wilt not come, thou wilt not hear:  
O is thy wonted love become so cold?  
Or do mine eyes not seek thee where they should?  
Why do I seek thee, if thou art not here?  
Or find thee not, if thou art every where?  
I see my error; 'T is not strange I could not  
Find out my love: I sought him where I should not.  
Thou art not found in downy beds of ease;  
Alas, thy music strikes on harder keys:  
Nor art thou found by that false, feeble light  
Of nature's candle; Our Egyptian night  
Is more than common darkness; nor can we  
Expect a morning, but what breaks from thee.  
Well may my empty bed bewail thy loss,  
When thou art lodged upon thy shameful cross:  
If thou refuse to share a bed with me,  
We'll never part, I'll share a cross with thee.   
ANSELM. in Protolog. cap. 1. Lord, if thou art not present, where shall I seek thee absent? If everywhere, why do I not see thee present? Thou dwellest it light inaccessible; and where is that inaccessible light? Or 〈◊〉 shall I have access to light inaccessible? I beseech thee, Lord, teach me to seek thee, and show thyself to the seeker; because I can neither seek thee, unless thou teach me, not find t●…e, unless thou show thyself to me: Let me seek thee, in de●… thee, and desire thee in seeking thee; Let me find thee it loving thee, and love thee in finding thee.  

EPIG. 10.  
Where shouldst thou seek for rest, but in thy bed?  
But now thy rest is gone, thy rest is fled:  
'T is vain to seek him there: My soul be wise;  
Go ask thy sins; they will tell thee where he lies,     

XI.  

  
CANTICLES 3. 2. I will rise, and go about in the City, and will seek him that my soul loveth: I sought him, but I found him not. 

1  
O How my disappointed soul's perplexed!  
How restless thoughts swarm in my troubled breast!  
How vainly pleased with hopes, then crossly vexed  
With fears! and how betwixt them both distressed!  
What place is left unransacked? Oh, where next  
Shall I go seek the author of my rest?  
Of what blessed Angel shall my lips inquire  
The undiscovered way to that entire  
And everlasting solace of my hearts desire!   

2  
Look how the strike Hart that wounded flies  
O'er hills and dales, and seeks the lower grounds  
For running streams, the whilst his weeping eyes  
Peg silent mercy from the following Hounds,  
At length, embossed, he droops, drops down, and lies  
Beneath the burden of his bleeding wounds:  
Even so my gasping foul, dissolved in tears,  
Doth search for thee, my God, whose deafened ears  
Leave me th' unransomed prisoner to my panic fears.   

3  
Where have my busy eyes not pried? O where,  
Of whom hath not my threadbare tongue demanded?  
I searched this glorious City; he's not here:  
I sought the country; she stands empty handed;  
I searched the Court; he is a stranger there:  
I asked the land; he's shipped: the sea, he's landed:  
I climbed the air, my thoughts began t' aspire;  
But ah,! the wings of my too bold desire,  
Soaring too near the sun, were singed with sacred fire.   

4  
I moved the merchant's ear; alas, but he  
Knew neither what I said, nor what to say:  
I asked 〈◊〉 Lawyer; he demands a fee,  
And the●… demurs me with a vain delay:  
I asked the Schoolman; his advice was free,  
But scored me out too intricate a way:  
I asked the watchman (best of all the sour)  
Whose gentle answer could resolve no more,  
But that he lately left him at the Temple door.   

5  
Thus having sought, and made my great inquest  
In ev●…y place, and searched in every ear;  
I threw me on my bed; but ah! my rest  
Was poisoned with th' extremes of grief and fear,  
Where looking down into my troubled breast,  
The Magazine of wounds, I found him there:  
Let oth●…rs hunt, and show their sportful Art;  
I wi●…h to catch the ●…are before she start,  
As Potchers use to do; heaven's form 's a troubled heart.   
S. AMBROS. lib. 3. de Virg. Christ is not in the market, not in the streets: For Christ is Peace, in the market are strises: Christ is Justice, in the 〈◊〉 is iniquity: Christ is a Labourer, in the market 〈◊〉: Christ is Charity, in the market is slander: Christ is Charity, in the market is fraud: Let us not therefore seek 〈◊〉, where we cannot find Christ. S. HIERON. Ep. 22. ad Eustoch. Jesus is jealous: He will not have thy face seen: Let foolish 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 abroad, seek thou thy Love at home.  

EPIG. 11.  
What lost thy love? will neither bed nor board  
Receive him? Not by tears to be implored?  
It is the Ship that moves, and not the Coast;  
I fear, I fear, my soul, 't is thou art lost.     

XII.  

  
CANTICLES 3. 3. Have you seen him whom my soul loveth? When I had past a little from them, than I sound him, I took hold on him, & left him not. 

1  
WHat secret corner? what unwonted way  
Has scaped the ransack of my rambling thought?  
The Fox by night, nor the dull Owl by day,  
Have never searched those places I have sought,  
Whilst thy lamented absence taught my breast  
The ready road to grief, without request;  
My day had neither comfort, nor my night had rest.   

2  
How hath my unregarded language vented  
The sad tautologies of lavish passion?  
How often have I languished unlamented!  
How oft have I complained without compassion!  
I asked the city-watch, but some denied me;  
The common street, whilst others would misguide me,  
Some would debar me; some, divert me; some, deride me.   

3  
Mark how the widowed Turtle, having lost  
The faithful partner of her loyal heart,  
Stretches ●…er feeble wings from coast to c●…ast,  
Haunts every path; thinks every shade doth pa●…t  
Her absent Love, and her; at length u●…sped,  
She re-betakes her to her lonely bed,  
And there bewails her everlasting widowhood:   

4  
So when my soul had progressed every place,  
That love and dear affection could contrive,  
I threw me on my couch, resolved t'embrace  
A death for him, in whom I ceased to live:  
But there injurious Hymen did present  
His lanskip joys; my pickled eyes did vent  
Full streams of briny tears, tears never to be spent.   

5  
Whilst thus my sorrow-wasting soul was seeding  
Upon the rad'cal humour of her thought,  
Even whilst mine eyes were blind, and heart was bleeding,  
He that was sought, unfound, was found unsought.  
As if the Sun should dart his orb of light  
Into the secrets of the black-browed night:  
Even so appeared my Love, my sole, my soul's delight.   

6  
O how mine eyes now ravished at the sight  
Of my bright Sun shot flames of equal fire!  
Ah! how my soul dissolved with over-delight,  
To re-enjoy the Crown of chaste desire!  
How sovereign joy deposed and dispossessed  
Rebellious grief! And how my ravished breast—  
But who can press those heights, that cannot be expressed?   

7  
O how these arms, these greedy arms did twine,  
And strongly twist about his yielding wast!  
The s●…ppy branches of the Thespian Vine  
Ne'er clinged their less beloved Elm so fast;  
Boast not thy flames, blind boy, nor feathered shot;  
Let Hymen's easy snarls be quite forgot:  
Time cann●…t quench our ●…ites, nor death dissolve our knot.   
ORIG. Hom. 10. in divers. O most holy Lord, and sweetest Master, how good art thou to those that are of upright heart, and humble spirit! O how blessed are they that seek thee with a simple heart! How happy that trust in thee! It is a most certain truth, that thou lovest all that love thee, and never forsakest those that trust in thee: For behold thy Love simply sought thee, and undoubtedly found thee: She trusted in thee, and is not forsaken of thee, but hath obtained more by thee, than she expected from thee. BEDA in cap. 3. Cant. The longer I was in finding whom I sought, the more earnestly I held him be●…ng found.  

EPIG. 12.  
What? found him out? let strong embraces bind him;  
He'll fly perchance where tears can never find him.  
New sins will lose what old repentance gains:  
Wisdom not only gets, but got retains.     

XIII.  

  
PSALM 72. 28. It is good for me to draw near to God; I have put my trust in the Lord God. 

WHere is that Good, which wisemen please to call  
The Chiefest? Doth there any such befall  
Within man's reach? Or is there such a Good at all?   

If such there be, it neither must expire,  
Nor change; than which there can be nothing higher:  
Such Good must be the utter point of man's desire.   

It is the Mark, to which all h●…arts must tend;  
Can be desired for no other end,  
Then for itself, on which all other goods depend.   

What may this Excellence be? doth it subsist  
A real Essence, clouded in the midst  
Of cu●…ious Art, or clear to every eye that list?   

Or is't a tart Idea, to procure  
An edge, and keep the practic soul in ure,  
Like that dear chemic dust, or puzzling Quadrature?   

Where shall I seek this Good? where shall I find  
This Catholic pleasure, whose extremes may bind  
My thoughts, and fill the gulf of my insatiate mind?   

Lies it in Treasure? In full heaps untold?  
Doth gouty Mammous griping hand enfold  
This secret Saint in sacred shrines of sovereign gold?   

No, no; she lies not there; wealth often sours  
In keeping; makes us hers, in seeming ours;  
She slides from heaven indeed, but not in Danat's showers.   

Lives she in honour? no. The royal Crown  
Builds up a creature, and then batters down:  
Kings raise thee with a smile, and raze thee with a frown.   

In pleasure? no. Pleasure begins in rage;  
Acts the fool's part on earth's uncertain stage;  
Begins the Play in youth, and Epilogues in age.   

These, these are bastard-goods; the best of these  
Torment the soul with pleasing it, and please,  
Like water gulped in fevers, with deceitful ease.   

Earth's flattering dainties are but sweet distresses:  
Molehills perform the mountains she professes;  
Alas, can earth confer more good than earth possesses?   

Moun●…, mount my soul, and let thy thoughts cashier  
Earths vain delights, and make their full carrier  
At heavens' eternal joys; stop, stop thy Courser there.   

There shall thy soul possess uncareful treasure;  
There shalt thou swim in never-sading pleasure;  
And blaze in honour far above the frowns of Caesar.   

Lord, if my ho●…e dare let her anchor fall  
On thee, the chiefest Good, no need to call  
For earth's inferior trash; Thou, thou art All in All.   
S. AUGUST. Soliloqu. cap. 13. I follow this thing: I pursue that; but am filled with nothing. But when I found thee, who a●…t that immutable, individed, and only good, in myself, what I obtained. I wanted not; for what I obtained not, I grieved not; with w●…at I was possessed, 〈◊〉 whole desire was 〈◊〉. S. BERN. Ser. 9 sup. beati qui habent, &c. Let others p●…etend merit: let him b●…ag of the burden of the day; let him boast of his Sabbath fasts, and let him glory that 〈◊〉 is not as other men: but for me, it is good to clea●…e unto the Lord, and to put my trust in my Lord God.  

EPG. 13.  
Let Bo●…eas blasts, and Nep●…unes waves be joined,  
Thy Aeolus commands the waves, the wind:  
Fear not the rocks or worlds imperious waves:  
Thou climb'st a rock (my soul) a rock that saves.     

XIV.  

  
CANTICLES 2. 3. I sat under his shadow with great delight, and his fruit was sweet to my taste. 

1  
LOok how the sheep, whose rambling steps do stray  
From the safe blessing of her shepherd's eyes  
Estsoon, becomes the unprotected prey  
To the winged squadron of beleagring flies;  
Where swelired with the scorching beams of day,  
She frisks from bush to brake, and wildly flies  
From her own self, even of herself afraid;  
She shrouds her troubled brows in every glade,  
And craves the mercy of the soft removing shade.   

2  
Even so my wandering Soul, that hath digressed  
From her great Shepherd, is the hourly prey  
Of all my sins. These vultures in my breast  
Gripe my Promethean heart both night and day:  
I hunt from place to place, but sinned no rest;  
I know not where to go, nor where to stay:  
The eye of vengeance burns, her flames invade  
My swelt'ring soul: My soul hath oft assayed,  
But she can find no shroud, but she can feel no shade.   

3  
I sought the shades of Mitth, to wear away  
My slow-paced hours of soul-consuming grief;  
I searched the shades of sleep, to ease my day  
Of griping sorrows with a night's reprief;  
I sought the shades of death; thought there t'allay  
My final torments with a full relief:  
But mirth, nor sleep nor death can hide my hours  
In the false shades of their deceitful bowers;  
The first distracts, the next disturbs, the last devours.   

4  
Where shall I 〈◊〉? To whom shall I apply 〈◊〉?  
Are there no streams where a faint soul may wade?  
Thy Godhead, JESUS, are the flames that fry me;  
Hath thy All-glorious Deity never a shade,  
Where I may sit and vengeance never eye me,  
Where I might sit refreshed or 〈◊〉?  
Is there no comfort? Is there no resection?  
Is there no cover that will give protection  
T' a fainting soul, the subject of thy wrath's 〈◊〉?   

5  
Look up, my soul, advance the lowly stature  
Of thy sad thoughts; advance thy humble eye:  
See, here's a shadow found: The human nature  
Is made the Umbella to the Deity.  
To catch the sunbeams of thy just creator;  
Beneath this covert thou Mayst safely lie:  
〈◊〉 thine eyes to climb this fruitful tree,  
As quick Zacheus did, and thou shalt see  
A cloud of dying flesh betwixt those beams and thee.   
GUILL. in cap. 2. Cant. Who can endure the 〈◊〉 rays of the sun of Justice? Who shall not be consumed by his beams? Therefore the Sun of Justice took flesh, that through the conjunction of that Sun and this human body a shadow may be made. S. AUGUST. Med. cap. 37. Lord, let my soul flee from the scorching thoughts of the world under the covert of thy wings, that being resreshed by the moderation of thy shadow, she may sing merrily, In peace will I lay me down and rest.  

〈◊〉. 14.  
Ah, treacherous soul, would not thy pleasures give  
That Lord which made thee living leave to live?  
See what thy sins have done: thy sins have made  
The sun of Glory now become thy shade.     

XV.  

  
PSALM 137. 4. How shall we sing a song of the Lord in a strange land? 

URge me no more: this aity mirth belongs  
To better times: these times are not for songs.  
The sprightly twang of the melodious Lute  
〈◊〉 not with my voice; and both unsuit  
My untuned fortunes: the affected measure  
Of strains that are constrained 〈◊〉 no pleasure.  
music's the Child of mirth; where griefs assail  
The troubled soul, both voice and fingers fail:  
Let such as ravil out their lavish days  
In honourable riot; that can raise  
Dejected hearts, and conjure up a spirit  
Of madness by the magic of delight;  
Let those of Cupid's hospital, that lie  
Impatient Patients to a smiling eye,  
That cannot rest, until vain hope beguile  
Their 〈◊〉 torments with a wanton smile;  
Let such redeem their peace, and salve the wrongs  
Of froward Fortune with their frolic songs:  
My grief, my grief's too great for smiling eyes  
To cure, or counter- 〈◊〉 to 〈◊〉.  
The Ravens dismal croaks; the midnight bowls  
Of empty wolves, mixed with the 〈◊〉 of 〈◊〉  
The nine sad knowls of a dull passing Bell,  
With the loud language of a nightly knell,  
And horrid out-cries of revenged crimes,  
Joined in a medley's music for these times:  
These are no times to touch the merry string  
Of Orpheus; no, these are no times to sing.  
Can hidebound prisoners, that have spent their souls  
And famished bodies in the noisome holes  
Of hell-black dungeons, apt their rougher throats,  
Grown hoarse with begging alms, to warble notes?  
Can the sad pilgrim, that hath lost his way  
In the vast desert; there condemned a prey  
To the wild subject, or his savage King,  
Rouse up his palsy smitten spirits, and sing?  
Can I a pilgrim, and a prisoner too,  
(Alas) where I am neither known, nor know  
Aught but my torments, an unransomed stranger  
In this strange climate, in a land of danger?  
O, can my voice be pleasant, or my hand,  
Thus made a prisoner to a foreign land?  
How can my music relish in your cars,  
That cannot speak for sobs, nor sing for tears?  
Ah, if my voice could, Orpheus-like, unspell  
My poor Eurydice, my soul from hell  
Of earths misconstrued heaven, O then my breast  
Should warble airs, whose rhapsodies should feast  
The ears of Seraphims, and entertain  
Heaven's highest Deity with their lofty strain,  
A strain well drenched in the true Thespian Well,  
Till then, earth's Semiquaver, mirth, farewell.   
S. AUGUST. Med. cap. 33. O infinitely happy are those Heavenly virtues which are able 〈◊〉 praise thee in holiness and purity, with excessive sweetness 〈◊〉 able exultation! From thence they praise thee, from whence they rejoice, because they continually see for what they rejoice, for what they praise thee: But we pressed down with this burden of flesh, far removed from thy countenance in this pilgrimage, and blown up with worldly vanities, cannot worthily praise thee: We praise thee by faith; nor face to face: but those angelical spirits praise thee face to face, and not by saith.  

EPIO. 15.  
Did I refuse to sing? said I these times  
Were not for songs? nor music for these climes?  
It was my error: are not groans and tears  
Harmonious raptures in th' almighty's ears?      

THE FIFTH BOOK.  


  

I.  CANTICLES 5. 8. I charge you, O daughters of Jerusalem, if you find my beloved, that you tell him that I am sick of love. 

1  
YOu holy Virgins, that so oft surround  
The city's sapphire walls, whose snowy feet  
Measure the pearly paths of sacred ground,  
And trace the new Jerus'lems Jasper street;  
Ah, you whose care-forsaken hearts are crowned  
With your best wishes; that enjoy the sweet  
Of all your hopes; If e'er you chance to spy  
My absent Love, O tell him that I lie  
Deep wounded with the flames that furnaced from his eye.   

2  
I charge you, Virgins, as you hope to hear  
The heavenly music of your lover's voice;  
I charge you by the solemn faith ye bear  
To plighted vows, and to that loyal choice  
Of your affections, or, if ought more dear  
You hold; by Hymen, by your marriage joys,  
I charge you tell him, that a flaming dart,  
Shot from his eye hath pierced my bleeding heart;  
And I am sick of love, and languish in my smart.   

3  
Tell him, O tell him, how my panting breast  
Is 〈◊〉 with flames, and how my soul is pined;  
Tell him, O tell him, how I he oppressed  
With the full torments of a troubled mind;  
O tell him, tell him, that he loves in jest,  
But I in earnest; tell him, he's unkind:  
But if a discontented frown appears  
Upon his angry brow, accost his ears  
With soft and fewer words, and act the rest in tears.   

4  
O tell him, that his cruelties deprive  
My soul of peace, while peace in vain she seeks;  
Tell him those damask roses, that did strive  
With white, both fade, upon my sallow cheeks;  
Tell him, no token doth proclaim I live,  
But tears, and sighs, and sobs, and sudden shrieks;  
Thus if your piercing words should chance to bore  
His harkening ear, and move a sigh, give o'er  
To speak; and tell him— Tell him, that I could no more.   

5  
If your elegious breath should hap to rouse  
A happy tear, close harbouring in his eye,  
Then urge his plighted faith, the sacred vows,  
Which neither I can break, nor he deny;  
Bewail the torments of his loyal spouse,  
That for his sake would make a sport to die:  
O blessed Virgins, how my passion tires  
Beneath the burden of her fond desires!  
Heaven never shot such flames, earth never felt such fires!   
S. AUGUST. Med. cap. 40. What shall I say? What shall I do? Whither shall I go? Where shall I seek him? Or when shall I find him? Whom shall I ask? Who will tell my beloved that I am sick of love? 〈◊〉. in Cap. 5. Cant. I live, but not I: it is my beloved that liveth in me: I love myself, not with my own love, but with the love of my beloved that loveth me: I love not myself in myself, but myself in him, and him in me.  

EPIG. 1.  
Grieve not (my soul) nor let thy love wax faint,  
Weep'st thou to lose the cause of thy complaint?  
He'll come; Love ne'er was bound to times nor laws:  
Till than thy tears complain without a cause.     

II.  

  
CANTICLES 2. 5. Stay me with flowers, and comfort me with apples, for I am sick with love●… 

1  
O Tyrant love I how doth thy sovereign power  
Subject poor souls to thy imperious thrall!  
They say, thy cup's composed of sweet and sour;  
They say, thy diet's honey mixed with gall;  
How comes it then to pass, these lips of our  
Still trade in bitter; taste no sweet at all?  
O tyrant love! Shall our perpetual toil  
Ne'er find a Sabbath, to refresh awhile  
Our drooping souls? Art thou all frowns, and ne'er a smile?   

2  
You blessed Maids of honour that frequent  
The royal courts of our renowned Jehove,  
With flowers restore my spirits faint and spent;  
O fetch me apples from Loves fruitful grove,  
To cool my palate, and renew my scent,  
For I am sick, for I am sick of love:  
These will revive my dry, my wasted powers,  
And they will sweeten my unsavoury hours;  
Refresh me then with fruit, and comfort me with flowers.   

3  
O bring me apples to assuage that fire,  
Which Aetna-like inflames my flaming breast;  
Nor is it every apple I desire,  
Nor that which pleases every palate best:  
'T is not the lasting Deuzan I require,  
Nor yet the red-cheeked Queening I request;  
Nor that which first bethrewd the name of wife,  
Nor that whose beauty caused the golden strife;  
No, no, bring me an apple from the tree of life.   

4  
Virgins, tuck up your silken laps, and fill ye  
With the fair wealth of Flora's Magazine;  
The purple violet, and the pale-faced lily;  
The pancy and the organ colombine;  
The flowering thyme, the guilt-boul daffodil;  
The lowly pink, the lofty eglantine:  
The blushing rose, the queen of flowers, and best  
Of Flora's beauty; but above the rest,  
Let Jesses sovereign flower perfume my qualming breast.   

5  
Haste, Virgins, haste, for I lie weak and faint,  
Beneath the 〈◊〉 of love; why stand ye mute,  
As if your silence neither cared to grant,  
Nor yet your language to deny my suit?  
No key can lock the door of my complaint,  
Until I smell this flower, or taste that fruit;  
Go, Virgins, seek this tree, and search that how'r●…  
O, how my soul shall bless that happy hour,  
That brings to me such fruit, that brings me such a flower.   
GISTEN. in cap. 2. Cant. Expos. 3. O happy sickness, where the infirmity is not to death, but 〈◊〉 life, that God may be glorified by it! O happy sever, that proceedeth not from a consuming, but a calcining sire! O happy ●…emper, wherein the soul relisheth no earthly things, but only savoureth divine nourishment! S. BERN. Serm. 51. in Cant. By flowers understand faith; by fruit, good works: As the flower or blossom is before the fruit, so is saith before good works: So neither is the fruit without the flower, nor good works without faith.  

EPIG. 2.  
Why apples, O my soul? Can they remove  
The pangs of grief, or ease the flames of love?  
It was that fruit which gave the first offence;  
That sent him hither 〈◊〉 that removed him hence.     

III.  

  
CANTICLES 2. 16. My beloved is mine, and I am his; He feedeth among the lilies. 

1  
Even like two little bank-dividing brooks,  
That wash the pebbles with their wanton streams,  
And having ranged and searched a thousand nooks,  
Meet both at length in silver-breasted Thames,  
Where in a greater current they conjoin:  
So I my best-beloveds am; so he is mine.   

2  
Even so we met; and after long pursuit,  
Even so we joined; we both became entire;  
No need for either to renew a suit,  
For I was flax and he was flames of sire:  
Our firm united souls did more than twine;  
So I my best-beloveds am; so he is mine.   

3  
If all those glittering Monarchs that command  
The servile quarters of this earthly ball,  
Should tender, in exchange, their shares of land,  
I would not change my fortunes for them all:  
Their wealth is but a counter to my coin;  
The world's but theirs; but my beloved's mine.   

4  
Nay more; If the fair Thespian Ladies all  
Should heap together their diviner treasure:  
That treasure should be deemed a price too small  
To buy a minute's lease of half my pleasure.  
'T is not the sacred wealth of all the nine  
Can buy my heart from him, or his, from being mine.   

5  
Nor Time, nor Place, nor Chance, nor Death can bow  
My least desires unto the least remove;  
He's firmly mine by oath; I his by vow;  
He's mine by faith; and I am his by love;  
He's mine by water; I am his by wine;  
Thus I my best-beloveds am; thus he is mine.   

6  
He is my Altar; I, his Holy Place;  
I am his guest; and he, my living food;  
I'm his by penitence; he mine by grace;  
I'm his by purchase; he is mine, by blood;  
He's my supporting elm; and I his vine:  
Thus I my best-beloveds am; thus he is mine.   

7  
He gives me wealth, I give him all my vows:  
I give him songs; he gives me length of days:  
With wreaths of grace he crowns my conquering brows:  
And I his Temples with a crown of Praise,  
Which he accepts as an eu'rlasting sign,  
That I my best-beloveds am; that he is mine.   
S. AUGUST. Manu. cap. 24. O my soul stamped with the image of thy God; love him of whom thou art so much beloved: bend to him that boweth to thee, seek him that seeketh thee: Love thy lover, by whose love thou art prevented, being the cause of thy love: Be careful with those that are careful, want with those that want; be clean with the clean, and holy with the holy: choose this sriend above all friends, who when all are taken away remaineth only faithful to thee: In the day of thy burial, when all leave thee, he will not deceive thee, but defend thee from the roaring Lions prepared for their prey.  

EPIO. 3.  
Sing, Hymen, to my soul: What? lost and found?  
Welcomed espoused, enjoyed so soon, and crown'd●…  
He did but climb the cross, and then came down  
〈◊〉 gates of hell; triumphed, and fetched a Crown.     

IV.  

  
CANTICLES 7. 10. I am my beloved's, and his desire is towards me. 

1  
LIke to the Arctic needle, that doth guide  
The wandering shade by his magnetic power,  
And leaves his silken Gnomon to decide  
The question of the controverted hour,  
First frantics up and down, from side to side,  
And restless beats his crystalled livery case  
With vain impatience; jets from place to place,  
And seeks the bosom of his frozen bride,  
At length he slacks his motion, and doth rest  
His trembling point at his bright Poles beloved breast.   

2  
Even so my soul, being hurried here and there,  
By every object that presents delight,  
Fain would be settled, but she knows not where;  
She likes at morning what she loathes at night?  
She bows to honour; then she lends an ear  
To that sweet swan-like voice of dying pleasure,  
Then tumbles in the scattered heaps of treasure;  
Now flattered with false hope; now foiled with fear:  
Thus finding all the world's delights to be  
But empty toys, good God, she points alone to thee.   

3  
But hath the virtued steel a power to move?  
Or can the untouched needle point aright?  
Or can my wandering thoughts forbear to rove,  
Unguided by the virtue of thy spirit?  
O hath my leaden soul the art t'improve  
Her wasted talon, and unraised, aspire  
In this sad moulting time of her desire?  
Not first beloved have I the power to love?  
I cannot stir, but as thou please to move me,  
Nor can my heart return thee love, until thou love me.   

4  
The still commandress of the silent night  
Borrows her beams from her bright brother's eye;  
His fair aspect fills her sharp horns with light,  
If he withdraw, her flames are quenched and die:  
Even so the beams of thy enlightening spirit  
Infused and shot into my dark desire,  
Inflame my thoughts, and fill my soul with fire,  
That I am ravished with a new delight;  
But if thou shroud thy face, my glory fades,  
And I remain a Nothing, all composed of shades.   

5  
Eternal God, O thou that only art  
The sacred Fountain of eternal light,  
And blessed Loadstone of my better part,  
O thou my hearts desire, my soul's delight,  
Reflect upon my soul, and touch my heart,  
And then my heart shall prize no good above thee;  
And then my soul shall know thee; knowing, love thee;  
And then my trembling thoughts shall never start  
From thy commands, or swerve the least degree,  
Or once presume to move, but as they move in thee.   
S. AUGUST. Med. Cap. 25. If Man can love man with so entire affection, that the one can scarce brook the others' absence? If a bride can be joined to 〈◊〉 bridegroom with so great an ardency of mind, that for the extremity of love she can enjoy no rest, not suffering his absence without great anxiety, with what affection, with what 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 the soul whom thou hast espoused by saith and compassion, to love thee her true God and glorious bridegroom?  

EPIG. 4.  
My soul, thy love is dear: 'Twas thought a good  
And easy pen'worth of thy saviour's blood:  
But be not proud; All matters rightly scanned,  
'Twas over-brought: 'Twas sold at second hand.     

V.  

  
CANTICLES 5. 6. My Soul melted whilst my Beloved spoke. 

LOrd, has the feeble voice of flesh and blood  
The power to work thine ears into a flood  
Of melted mercy? or the strength t'unlock  
The gates of heaven, and to dissolve a rock  
Of marble clouds into a morning shower?  
Or hath the breath of whining dust the power  
To stop, or snatch a falling thunderbolt  
From thy fierce hand, and make thy hand revolt  
From resolute confusion, and in stead  
Of vyals pour full blessings on our head?  
Or shall the wants of famished ravens cry,  
And move thy mercy to a quick supply?  
Or shall the silent suits of drooping flowers  
Woo thee for drops, and be refreshed with showers?  
Alas, what marvel then, great God, what wonder  
If thy hell-rouzing voice, that splits in sunder  
The brazen portals of eternal death;  
What wonder if that life-restoring breath  
Which dragged me from th'infernal shades of night,  
Should melt my ravished soul with o'er-delight?  
O can my frozen gutters choose but run,  
That feel the warmth of such a glorious Sun?  
Me thinks his language, like a flaming arrow,  
Doth pierce my bones, and melts their wounded marrow;  
Thy flames, O Cupid (though the joyful heart  
Feels neither tang of grief, nor fears the smart  
Of jealous doubts, but drunk with full desires)  
Are torments weighed with these celestial fires;  
Pleasures that ravish in so high a measure,  
That O I languish in excess of pleasure:  
What ravished heart, that feels these melting joys,  
Would not despise and loathe the treacherous toys  
Of dunghill earth? what soul would not be proud  
Of wry-mouthed scorns, the worst that flesh and blood  
Had rancour to devise? Who would not bear  
The world's derision with a thankful ear?  
What palate would refuse full bowls of spite,  
To gain a minutes taste of such delight?  
Great spring of light, in whom there is no shade  
But what my interposed sins have made,  
Whose marrow-melting fires admit no screen  
But what my own rebellions put between  
Their precious flames, and my obdurate ear;  
Disperse these plague-distilling clouds, and clear  
My mungy soul into a glorious day;  
Transplant this screen, remove this bar away,  
Then, than my fluent soul shall feel the fires  
Of thy sweet voice, and my dissolved desires  
Shall turn a sovereign balsam, to make whole  
Those wounds my sins inflicted on thy soul.   
S. AUGUST. Soliloq. cap. 34. What fire is this that so warmeth my heart! What light is this that so enlighteneth my soul! O fire, that always burnest, and never goest out, kindle me: O light, which ever shinest, and art never darkened, illuminate me: O that I had my heat from thee, most boly fire! How sweetly dost thou burn! How secretly dost thou shine! How desiderably dost thou inflame me! BONAVENT Stim. amoris cap. 8. It maketh God man, and man God; things temporal, eternal; mortal, immortal; it maketh an enemy a friend; a servant, a son; 〈◊〉 things, glorious; cold hearts fiery, and hard things liquid.  

EPIG. 5.  
My soul, thy gold is true, but full of dross;  
Thy saviour's breath resines thee with some loss:  
His gentle furnace makes thee pure as true;  
Thou must be melted, ere th' art cast anew.     

VI.  

  
psalm 73. 25. Whom have I in Heaven but thee? and what desire I on earth in respect of thee? 

1  
I Love (and have some cause to love) the earth:  
She is my maker's creature; therefore good:  
She is my Mother, for she gave me birth;  
She is my tender Nurse; she gives me food:  
But what's a Creature, Lord, compared with thee?  
Or what's my Mother, or my Nurse to me?   

2  
I love the air: her dainty sweets refresh  
My drooping soul, and to new sweets invite me;  
Her shrill-mouthed choir sustain me with their flesh,  
And with their Polyphonian notes delight me:  
But what's the air or all the sweets that she  
Can bless my soul withal, compared to thee?   

3  
I love the Sea: She is my fellow-creature;  
My careful purveyor; she provides me store:  
She walls me round; she makes my diet greater;  
She wafts my treasure from a foreign shore:  
But Lord of oceans, when compared with thee,  
What is the Ocean, or her wealth to me?   

4  
To heaven's high city I direct my journey,  
Whose spangled suburbs entertain mine eye;  
Mine eye, by contemplations great attorney,  
Transcends the crystal pavement of the sky:  
But what is heaven great God, compared to thee?  
Without thy presence heaven 's no heaven to me.   

5  
Without thy presence Earth gives no refection;  
Without thy presence Sea affords no treasure;  
Without thy presence Air's a rank 〈◊〉;  
Without thy presence heaven itself's no pleasure:  
If not possessed if not enjoyed in thee,  
What's Earth, or Sea, or Air, or heaven to me?   

6  
The highest Honours that the world can boast  
Are subjects far too low for my desire;  
The brightest beams of glory are (at most)  
But dying sparkles of thy living fire:  
The proudest flames that earth can kindle, be  
But nightly Glow-worms, if compared to thee.   

7  
Without thy presence, wealth are bags of cares;  
Wisdom, but folly; Joy, disquiet sadness;  
Friendship is treason, and Delights are snares;  
Pleasures but pain, and Mirth but pleasing madness:  
Without thee, Lord, things be not what they be  
Nor have they being, when compared with thee.   

8  
In having all things, and not thee, what have I?  
Not having thee, what have my labours got?  
Let me enjoy but thee, what farther crave I?  
And having thee alone, what have I not?  
I wish nor Sea, nor Land; nor would I be  
Possessed of heaven, heaven unpossessed of thee.   
BONAVINT. cap. 1. Soliloq. Alas, my God, now I understand (but blush to confess) that the beauty of thy Creatures hath deceived mine eyes, and I have not observed that thou art more amiable than all thy creatures; to which thou hast communicated but one drop of thy inestimable beauty: For who hath adorned the Heavens with stars? Who hath stored the air with soul, the waters with fish, the earth with plants and flowers? But what are all these but a small spark of Divine beauty. S. CHRYS. Hom. 5. in Ep. ad Rom. In having nothing I have all things, because I have Christ; Having 〈◊〉 all things in him, I seek no other reward, for he is the universal reward.  

EPIG. 6.  
Who would not throw his better thoughts about him,  
And scorn this dross within him; that, without him?  
Cast up (my soul) thy clearer eye; Behold.  
If thou be fully melted, there 's the mould.     

VII.  

  
〈◊〉 120. 5. woe is to me, that I remain in Meshech, and dwell in the tents of Kedar! 

IS nature's course dissolved? doth time's glass stand?  
Or hath some frolic heart set back the hand  
Of Fates perpetual Clock? will't never strike?  
Is crazy Time grown lazy, faint or sick  
With very Age? or hath that great Pairroyall  
Of Adamantine sisters late made trial  
Of some new trade? shall mortal hearts grow old  
In sorrow? snail my weary arms enfold  
And underprop my panting sides for ever?  
Is there no charitable hand will sever  
My well-spun thread, that my imprisoned soul  
May be delivered from this dull dark hole  
Of dungeon flesh? O shall I, shall I never  
Be ransomed, but remain a slave for ever?  
It is the lot of man but once to die,  
But ere that death how many deaths have I?  
What human madness makes the world afraid  
To entertain heavens' joy, because conveyed  
By th' hand of death? will nakedness refuse  
Rich change of robes, because the man's not spruce  
That brought them? or will poverty send back  
Full bags of gold, because the bringer's black?  
Life is a bubble, blown with whining breaths,  
Filled with the torments of a thousand deaths;  
Which, being pricked by death (while death deprives  
One life) presents the soul a thousand lives:  
O frantic mortal, how hath earth bewitched  
Thy Bedlam soul, which hath so fondly pitched  
Upon her false delights! Delights that cease  
Before enjoyment finds a time to please:  
Her fickle joys breed doubtful fears; her fears  
Bring hopeful griefs; her griefs weep fearful tears;  
Tears coin deceitful hopes; hopes, careful doubt,  
And surly passion justles passion out:  
To day we pamper with a full repast  
Of lavish mirth; at night we weep as fast:  
To night we swim in wealth, and lend; to morrow,  
We sink in want, and find no friend to borrow.  
In what a climate doth my soul reside!  
Where pale-faced murder, the first-born of pride,  
Sets up her kingdom in the very smiles,  
And plighted faiths of men-like Crocodiles;  
A land, where each embroidered satin word  
Is lined with fraud; where Mars his law less sword  
Exiles 〈◊〉 balance; where that hand  
Now slays his brother, that new-sowed his land:  
O that my days of bondage would expire  
In this lewd soil! Lord, how my soul's on fire  
To be dissolved, that I might once obtain  
These longed for joys, longed for so oft in vain!  
If Moses-like I may not live possessed  
Of this fair land; Lord, let me see't at least.   
S. AUGUST. 〈◊〉. cap. 12. My life is a frail life; a corruptible life; a life, which the more it increaseth, the more it decreaseth: The farther it goeth, the nearer it cometh to death. A deceitful life, and like a shadow, full of the snares of death: Now I rejoice, now I languish, now I flourish, now infirm, now I live, and straight I die; now I seem happy, always miserable; 〈◊〉 I laugh, now I weep: Thus all things are subject to mutability, that nothing continueth an 〈◊〉 in one state: O joy above joy, exceeding all joy, without which there is no joy, when shall I enter into thee, that I may see my God that dwelleth in thee?  

EPIG. 7.  
Art thou so weak? O canst thou not digest  
An hour of travel for a night of rest?  
Cheer up, my soul; call home thy spirits, and bear  
One bad good-friday; full-mouthed Easter's near.     

VIII.  

  
Romans 7. 24. O wretched man that I am! who shall deliver me from the body of this death? 

BEhold thy darling, which thy lustful care  
Pampers; for which thy restless thoughts prepare  
Such 〈◊〉 cates: for whom thy bubbling brow  
So often sweats, and bankrupt eyes do owe  
Such midnight scores to nature, for whose sake  
Base earth is sainted, the infernal lake  
Unfeard, the Crown of glory poorly rated,  
Thy God neglected, and thy brother hated:  
Behold thy darling, whom thy soul affects  
So dearly; whom thy fond indulgence decks  
And puppets up in soft, in silken weeds:  
Behold thy darling, whom thy fondness feeds  
With far-fetched delicates, the dear-bought gains  
Of ill-spent time, the price of half thy pains:  
Behold thy darling, who, when clad by thee,  
Derides thy nakedness; and when most free,  
Proclaims her lover slave; and being fed  
Most full, then strikes th' indulgent feeder dead.  
What meanest thou thus, my poor deluded soul,  
To love so fondly? Can the burning coal  
Of thy affection last without the fuel  
Of counter-love? Is thy compeer so cruel,  
And thou so kind, to love unloved again?  
Canst thou sow favours, and thus reap disdain?  
Remember, O remember, thou art born  
Of royal blood; remember thou art sworn  
A Maid of Honour in the Court of Heaven;  
Remember what a costly price was given  
To ransom thee from slavery thou wert in;  
And wilt thou now, my soul, turn slave again?  
The Son and Heir to heaven's Triune JEHOVE  
Would fain become a 〈◊〉 for thy love,  
And offers for thy dower his father's Throne,  
To sit for Seraphims to gaze upon;  
He'll give thee Honour, Pleasure, Wealth, and Things  
Transcending far the Majesty of Kings:  
And wilt thou prostrate to the odious charms  
Of this base scullion? shall his hollow arms  
Hugg thy soft sides? shall these course hands untie  
The sacred Zone of thy virginity?  
For shame, degenerous soul, let thy desire  
Be quickened up with more heroic fire;  
Be wisely proud, let thy ambitious eye  
Read nobler objects; let thy thoughts defy  
Such amorous baseness; let thy soul disdain  
Th'ignoble proffers of so base a swain;  
Or if thy vows be past, and Hymen's bands  
Have ceremonied your unequal hands,  
Annul, at least avoid, thy lawless act  
With insufficiency, or a precontract;  
Or if the act be good, yet Mayst thou plead  
A second freedom; for the flesh is dead.   
NAZIANZ. Orat. 16. How I am joined to this body, I know not; which when it is healthful, provoketh me to war, and being dammaged by war, affecteth me with grief; which I both love as a fellow-servant, and bate as an utter enemy: It is a pleasant foe, and a perfidious friend. O strange conjunction and alienation: what I fear I embrace, and what I love I am afraid of; before I make war, I am reconciled, before I enjoy peace I am at variance.  

EPIG. 8.  
What need that house be daubed with flesh and blood?  
Hanged round with silks and gold? repaired with food?  
Cost idly spent! That cost doth but prolong  
Thy thraldom. Fool, thou mak'st thy jail too strong.     

Ix..  

  
PHILIPPIANS 1. 23. I am in a strait between two, having a desire to be dissolved, and to be with Christ. 

1  
WHat meant our careful parents so to wear,  
And lavish out their ill expended hours,  
To purchase for us large possessions here,  
Which (though unpurchased) are too truly ours?  
What meant they, ah what meant they to endure  
Such loads of needless labour, to procure  
And make that thing our own, which was our own too sure.   

2  
What mean these liu'ries and possessive keys?  
What mean these bargains, and these needless sales?  
What need these jealous, these suspicious ways  
Of law-divised, and law-dissolved entails?  
No need to sweat for gold, wherewith to buy  
Estates of high-prized land; no need to tie  
Earth to their heirs, were they but clogged with earth as I.   

3  
O were their souls but clogged with earth as I,  
They would not purchase with so 〈◊〉 an itch;  
They would not take of alms, what now they buy;  
Nor call him happy, whom the world counts rich:  
They would not take such pains, project and prog,  
To charge their shoulders with so great a log:  
Who hath the greater lands, hath but the greater clog.   

4  
I cannot do an act which earth disdains not;  
I cannot think a thought which earth corrupts not;  
I cannot speak a word which earth profanes not;  
I cannot make a vow earth interrupts not:  
If I but offer up an early groan,  
Or spread my wings to heavens' long-longed for throne,  
She darkens my complaints, and drags my offering down.   

5  
〈◊〉 like the hawk, (whose keepers wary hands  
Have made a prisoner to her wethring stock)  
Forgetting quite the power of her fast bands,  
Makes a rank bate from her forsaken block,  
But her too faithful 〈◊〉 doth soon restrain  
Her broken flight, attempted oft in vain;  
It gives her loins a twitch, and tugs her back again.   

6  
So, when my soul directs her better eye  
To heaven's bright palace (where my treasure lies)  
I spread my willing wings, but cannot fly,  
Earth hales me down, I cannot, cannot rise:  
When I but strive to mount the least degree,  
Earth gives a jerk, and foils me on my knee;  
Lord, how my soul is racked betwixt the world and thee!   

7  
Great God, I spread my feeble wings in vain;  
In vain I offer my extended hands:  
I cannot mount till thou unlink my chain;  
I cannot come till thou release my bands:  
Which if thou please to break, and then supply  
My wings with spirit, th' Eagle shall not sly  
A pitch that's half so fair, nor half so swift as I.   
BONAVENT. cap. 1. Soliloq. Ah sweet Jesus, pierce the marrow of my seul with the 〈◊〉 shafts of thy love, that it may truly burn and melt, and languish with the only desire of thee; that it may desire to be dissolved, and to be with thee: Let it hunger alone for the bread of life; let it thirst after thee, the spring and fountain of eternal light, the stream of true pleasure: let it always desire thee, seek thee, and find thee, and sweetly rest in thee.  

EPIG. 9  
What? will thy shackles neither lose nor break?  
Are they too strong, or is thy arm too weak?  
Art will prevail where knotty strength denies;  
My soul, there's Aquasortis in thine eyes.     

X.  

  
PSALM 142. 7. Bring my soul out of prison, that I may praise thy name. 

MY Soul is like a bird, my flesh the cage,  
Wherein she wears her weary pilgrimage  
Of hours as few as evil, daily fed  
With sacred wine, and sacramental bread;  
The keys that lock her in, and let her out,  
Are Birth and Death; twixt both she hops about  
From perch to perch, from sense to reason; then  
From higher reason down to sense again:  
From sense she climbs to faith; where for a season  
She sits and sings; then down again to reason:  
From reason back to faith, and straight from thence  
She rudely slutters to the perch of sense:  
From sense, to hope; then hops from hope to doubt:  
From doubt, to dull despair; there seeks about  
For desperate freedom, and at every grate,  
She wildly thrusts, and begs th'untimely date  
Of unexpired thraldom, to release  
Th' afflicted captive, that can find no peace.  
Thus am I cooped within this fleshly cage  
I wear my youth, and wast my weary age,  
Spending that breath which was ordained to chant  
Heavens' praises forth, in sighs and sad complaint:  
Whilst happier birds can spread their nimble wing  
From shrubs to cedars, and there chirp and sing,  
In choice of raptures, the harmonious story  
Of man's redemption, and his maker's glory:  
You glorious Martyrs, you illustrious troops,  
That once were cloistered in your fleshly coops,  
As fast as I, what rhetoric had your tongu●…s?  
What dextrous Art had your Elegiak songs?  
What Paul-like power had your admired devotion?  
What shackle-breaking faith infused such motion  
To your strong prayers, that could obtain the boon  
To be enlarged, to be uncaged so soon?  
When I, poor I, can sing my daily tears,  
Grown old in bondage, and can find no ears:  
You great partakers of eternal glory,  
That with your heau'n-prevailing Oratory,  
Released your souls from your terrestrial cage,  
Permit the passion of my holy rage  
To recommend my sorrows, dearly known  
To you, in days of old, and once your own,  
To your best thoughts, (but oh't doth not befit ye  
To move your prayers; you love and joy, not pity:)  
Great Lord of souls to whom should prisoners sly,  
But thee? Thou hadst thy cage, as well as I:  
And, for my sake, thy pleasure was to know  
The sorrows that it brought, and fel●…st them too;  
O set me free, and I will spend those daves,  
Which now I wast in begging, in thy praise.   
ANSELM. in Protolog. cap. 1. O miserable condition of mankind, that has lost that for which he was created! Alas, what hath he lost? And what hath he found? He hath lost happiness for which he was made, and found misery for which he was not made: What is gone? and what is lest? That thing is gone, without which he is unhappy; that thing is lest, by which he is miserable: O wretched men! From whence are we expelled? To what are we impelled? whence are we thrown? And whither are we buried? From our home into banishment; from the sight of God into our own 〈◊〉; from the pleasure of immortality to the bitterness of death: Miserable change! from how great a good, to how great an evil? Ah me, what have I enterprised? what ha●…e I done? whither did I go? whither am I come?  

EPIG. 10.  
Paul's midnight-voice prevailed; his music's thunder  
Unhinged the prison doors, split bolts in sunder:  
And sit'st thou here, and hangest the feeble wing?  
And whin'st to be enlarged? soul, learn to sing.     

XI.  

  
PSALM 42. 1. As the Hart panteth after the water-brooks, so panteth my soul after thee, O God. 

1  
HOw shall my tongue express that hallowed fire  
Which heaven hath kindled in my ravished heart?  
What Muse shall I invoke, that will inspire  
My lowly quill to act a lofty part!  
What Art shall I devise t'express desire,  
Too intricate to be expressed by Art!  
Let all the nine be silent; I refuse  
Their aid in this high task, for they abuse  
The flames of love too much: assist me, David's Muse.   

2  
Not as the thirsty soil desires soft showers,  
To quicken and refresh her Embryon grain;  
Nor as the drooping crests of fading flowers  
Request the bounty of a morning rain,  
Do I desire my God: these, in few hours,  
Rewish what late their wishes did obtain,  
But as the swift-foot Hart doth wounded fly  
To th' much desired streams, even so do I  
Pant after thee, my God, whom I must find or die.   

3  
Before a pack of deep-mouthed lusts I fl●…e;  
O they have singled out my panting heart,  
And wanton Cupid, sitting in a tree,  
Hath pierced my bosom with a flaming dart;  
My soul being spent, for refuge seeks to thee,  
But cannot find where thou my refuge art:  
Like as the swift-foot Hart doth wounded fly  
To the desired st●…eams, even so do I  
Pant after thee, my God, whom I must find or die.   

4  
At length by flight, I over-went the pack;  
Thou drewest the wanton da●…t from out my wound;  
The blood, that followed, left a pu●…ple tract,  
Which brought a Serpent, but in ●…hape a Hound:  
We strove, he bit me; but thou brok'st his back,  
I left him grovelling on th'envenomed ground;  
But as the Serpent-bitten Hart doth sly  
To the long-longed for streams, even so did I  
Pant after thee, my God, whom I must find or die.   

5  
If lust should chase my soul, made swift by fright,  
Thou art the st●…eams whereto my soul is bound:  
Or if a jau'lin wound my sides in flight,  
Thou art the balsam that must cure my wound:  
If pouson chance t' infest my soul, in fight,  
Thou art the tread that must make me sound:  
Even as the wounded Hart, embossed, doth sly  
To th' streams extremely longed for, so do I  
Pa●…t after thee, my God, whom I must find or die.   
CYP. lib. 5. in Joh. cap. 10. Oprecious water, which quencbeth the noisome thirst of this world, that scoureth all the stains os sinners, that watereth t●…e earth of our souls with heavenly showers, and bringeth back the thirsty heart of man to his only God S. AUGUST. Soliloq. 35. O fountain of life, and vein of living waters, when shall I leave this forsaken, impassible, and dry earth, and taste the waters of thy sweetness, that I may behold thy virtue, and thy glory, and slake my thirst with the streams of thy mercy; Lord, I thirst: Thou art the spring of life, 〈◊〉 me; I thirst Lord, I thirst aste. thee the living God  

EPIG. 11.  
The arrow-smitten Hart, deep wounded, flies  
To th' springs with water in his weeping eyes:  
Heaven is thy spring: If Satan's fiery dart  
Pierce thy faint sides, do so, my wounded Heart.     

XII.  

  
PSALM 42. 2. When shall I come and appear before God? 

WHat is my soul the better to be tin'd  
With holy fire? what boots it to be coined  
With heavens' own stamp? what vantage can there be  
To souls of heau'n-descended pedigree,  
More than to beasts that grovel? Are not they  
Fed by th' almighty's hand? and every day,  
Filled with his blessing too? Do they not see  
God in his Creatures as direct as we?  
Do they not taste thee? hear thee? nay, what sense  
Is not partaker of thine Excellence?  
What more do we? Alas, what serves our reason,  
But, like dark lanterns, to accomplish treason  
With greater closeness? It affords no light,  
Brings thee no nearer to our purblind sight;  
No pleasure rises up the least degree,  
Great God, but in the clearer view of thee:  
What privilege more than sense hath reason than?  
What vantage is it to be born a man?  
How often hath my patience built, dear Lord,  
Vain towers of Hope upon thy gracious Word?  
How often hath thy Hope reviving Grace  
Wooed my suspicious eyes to seek thy face!  
How often have I sought thee? Oh how long  
Hath expectation taught my perfect tongue  
Repeated prayers, yet prayers could ne'er obtain;  
In vain I seek thee, and I beg in vain:  
If it be high presumption to behold  
Thy face, why didst thou make mine eyes so bold  
To seek it? If that object be too bright  
For man's aspect, why did thy lips invite  
Mine eye t' expect it? If it might be seen,  
Why is this envious curtain drawn between  
My darkened eye and it? O tell me, why  
Thou dost command the thing thou dost deny?  
Why dost thou give me so unp●…iz'd a treasure,  
And then deniest my greedy soul the pleasure  
To view thy gift? Alas, that gift is void,  
And is no gift, that may not be enjoyed:  
If those refulgent beams of heavens' great light  
Guild not the day, what is the day, but night?  
The drowsy shepherd sleeps; flowers droop and fade,  
The birds are sullen, and the beast is sad:  
But if bright Titan dart his golden ray,  
And, with his riches, glorify the day,  
The jolly shepherd pipes; flowers freshly spring;  
The beast grows gamesome, and the birds they sing.  
Thou art my Sun, great God: O when shall I  
View the full beams of thy Meridian eye?  
Draw, draw this fleshly curtain, that denies  
The gracious presence of thy glorious eyes;  
Or give me faith; and by the eye of grace,  
I shall behold thee, though not face to face.   
S. AUGUST. in Psal. 39 Who created all things is better than all things; who beau●…ified all things is more beautiful than all things: who made strength is stronger than all things: who made great things is greater than all things: Whatsoever thou lovest he is that to thee: Learn to love the workman in his work, the creator in his creature: Let not that which was made by him possess thee, lest thou lose him by whom thyself was made. S. AUGUST. Med. cap. 37. O thou most sweet, most gracious, most amiable, most fair, when shall I see thee? when shall I be satisfied with thy beauty? When wilt thou lead me from this dark dungeon, that I may confess thy name?  

EP 10. 12.  
How art thou shaded in this veil of night,  
Behind thy curtain flesh? thou seest no light,  
But what thy pride doth challenge as her own;  
Thy flesh is 〈◊〉: soul take this curtain down.     

XIII.  

  
PSALM 55. 6. O that I had the wings of a Dove, for than I would fly away and be at rest. 

1  
ANd am I sworn a dunghill slave for ever  
To earth's base drudgery? shall I never find  
A night of rest? shall my indentures never  
Be canceled? did injurious Nature bind  
My soul earth's prentice, with no clause to leave her?  
No day of freedom? must I ever grind?  
O that I had the pinions of a Dove,  
That I might quit my bands and sore above,  
And pour my just complaints before the great Jehove!   

2  
How happy are the Doves, that have the power,  
When e'er they please, to spread their airy wings!  
Or cloud-dividing Eagles, that can tower  
Above the sent of these inferior things!  
How happy is the Lark, that every hour  
Leaves earth, and then for joy mounts up and sings!  
Had my dull soul but wings as well as they,  
How I would spring from earth and clip away,  
As wise Astrea did, and scorn this ball of clay!   

3  
O how my soul would spurn this ball of clay,  
And loathe the dainties of earth's painful pleasure!  
O how I'd laugh to see men night and day  
turmoil, to gain that trash they call their treasure!  
O how I'd smile to see what plots they lay  
To catch a blast, or own a smile from Cesar!  
Had I the pinions of a mounting Dove,  
How I would sore and sing, and hate the love  
Of transitory toys, and feed on joys above!   

4  
There should I find that everlasting pleasure,  
Which change removes not, & which chance prevents not;  
There should I find that everlasting treasure,  
Which force deprives not, fortune disaugments not;  
There should I sinned that everlasting Cesar,  
Whose hand recalls not, and whose heart repents not;  
Had I the pinions of a clipping Dove,  
How I would climb the skies, and hate the love  
Of transitory toys, and joy in things above!   

5  
No rank-mouthed slander there shall give offence,  
Or blast our blooming names, as here they do;  
No liver-scalding lust shall there incense  
Our boiling veins, There is no Cupid's bow:  
Lord, give my soul the milk-white innocence  
Of Doves, and I shall have their pinions too:  
Had I the pinions of a sprightly Dove,  
How I would quit this earth, and sore above  
And heaven's blessed kingdom find, with heaven's blessed King Jehove.   
S. AUGUST. in Psal. 128. What wings should I desire but the two precepts of love, on which the Law and the Prophets depend! O if I could obtain these wings I could fly from thy face to thy face, from the face of thy Justice to the face of thy Mercy: Let us find those wings by love which we have lost by lust. S. AUGUST. in Psal. 76. Let us cast off whatsoever hindereth, entangleth, or burdeneth our flight until we attain that which satisfieth; beyond which nothing is; beneath which, all things are; of which, all things are.  

EPIG. 13.  
Tell me, my wishing soul, didst ever try  
How fast the wings of red-crost faith can sly?  
Why beggest thou then the pinions of a Dove?  
Faith's wings are swifter, but the swiftest love.     

XIV.  

  
PSALM 84. 1. How amiable are thy Tabernacles O God of Hosts. 

ANcient of days, to whom all times are Now,  
Before whose Glory Seraphims do bow  
Their blushing cheeks, and veil their blemished faces,  
That uncontained at once, dost fill all places,  
How glorious, O how far beyond the height  
Of puzzled quills, or the obtuse conceit  
Of flesh and blood, or the too flat reports  
Of mortal tongues, are thy expressless courts!  
Whose glory to paint forth with greater Art,  
Ravish my fancy, and inspire my heart;  
Excuse my bold attempt, and pardon me  
For showing sense what faith alone should see.   

Ten thousand millions, and the thousand more  
Of angel-measured leagues from th' Eastern shore  
Of dungeon earth this glorious Palace stands,  
●…efore whose pearly gates ten thousand bands  
Of armed angels wait to entertain  
Those purged souls for whom the Lamb was slain;  
Whose guil●…lesse death, and voluntary yielding  
Of whose given life, gave this brave court her building;  
The lukewarm blood of this dear Lamb being spilled,  
To rubies turned, whereof her posts were built;  
And what dropped down in cold and gelid gore,  
Did turn rich saphires, and impaved her floor:  
The brighter flames, that from his ey-balls rayed,  
Grew Chrysolites, whereof her walls were made:  
The milder glances sparkled on the ground,  
And groundsild every door with Diamond;  
But dying, darted upwards, and did fix  
A battlement of purest Sardonix.  
Her streets with burnished gold are paved round,  
Stars lie like pebbles scattered on the ground:  
Pearl mixed with Onyx, and the Jasper stone,  
Made gravelled causwayes to be t●…ampled on:  
There shines no Sun by day, no Moon by night;  
The palace glory is the palace light:  
There is no time to measure motion by,  
There Time is swallowed with eternity:  
Wry-mouthed Disdain, and corner-haunting Lust,  
And twy-saced Fraud, and beetle-browed Distrust,  
Soul-boiling Rage, and trouble-state Sedition,  
And giddy Doubt, and goggle-eyed suspicion,  
And lumpish Sorrow, and degenerous Fear  
Are banished thence, and Death's a stranger there:  
But simple Love, and sempiternal joys,  
Whose sweetness neither gluts, nor fullness cloys;  
Where face to face our ravished eye shall see  
Great E●…OHIM, that glorious One in Three,  
And Three in One, and seeing him shall bless him,  
And blessing, love him, and in love, possess him:  
Here stay my soul, and ravish in relation:  
Thy words being spent, spend now in contemplation.   
S. GREG. in Psal. 7. penitent. Sweet Jesus, the word of the Father, the brightness of paternal glory, whom Angels delight to view, teach me to do thy will; that led by thy good Spirit, I may come to that blessed city, where day is eternal, where there is certain security, and secure eternity, and eternal peace, and peaceful happiness, and happy sweetness, and sweet pleasure; where thou O God with the Father and the holy Spirit livest and reignest world without end. Ibid. There is light without darkness; joy without grief; desire without punishment; love without sadness; 〈◊〉 without loathing; safety without fear; health without disease; and life without death.  

EPIG. 14.  
My soul, pry not too nearly; the complexion  
Of Sol's bright face is seen but by reslexion:  
But wouldst thou know what's heaven? I'll tell thee what;  
Think what thou canst not think, and heaven is that.     

XV.  

  
CANTICLES 8. 14. Make haste, my Beloved, and be like the Roe, or the young Hart upon the mountains of Spices. 

GO, gentle tyrant, go; thy flames do pierce  
My soul to deep; thy flames are too too fi●…rce;  
My marrow melts, my fainting spirits fry  
I'th' torrid Zone of thy Meridian eye:  
Away, away, thy sweets are too perfuming;  
Turn, turn thy face, thy fires are too consuming:   

Haste hence, and let thy winged steps outgo  
The frighted roebuck, and his flying Ro.   

But wilt thou leave me then? O thou that a●…t  
Life of my soul, soul of my dying heart,  
Without the sweet aspect of whose fair eyes,  
My soul doth languish and her solace dies;  
Art thou so easily wooed? so apt to hear  
The frantic language of my foolish fear?   

Leave, leave me not, nor turn thy beauty from me;  
Look, look upon me, though thine eyes overcome me.   

O how they wound! but how my wounds content me!  
How sweetly these delightful pains torment me!  
How I am tortured in excessive measure  
Of pleasing cruelties too cruel pleasure!  
Turn, turn away, remove thy scorching beams;  
I languish with these bitter-sweet extremes:   

Haste then, and let thy winged steps outgo  
The flying roebuck, and his frighted Ro.   

Turn back, my dear; O let my ravished eye  
Once more behold thy face before thou fly;  
What, shall we part without a mutual kiss?  
O who can leave so sweet a face as this?  
Look full upon me; for my soul 〈◊〉  
To turn a holy 〈◊〉 in those fires:   

O leave me not, nor turn thy beauty from me;  
Look, look upon me, though thy flames ou'rcome me.   

If thou becloud the sunshine of thine eye,  
I freeze to death, and if it shine, I fry;  
Which like a fever, that my soul hath got,  
Makes me to burn too cold, or freeze too hot:  
Alas, I cannot bear so sweet a smart,  
Nor canst thou be less glorious th●…n thou art.   

Hast then, and let thy winged steps outgo  
The frighted roebuck, and his flying Ro.   

But go not far beyond the reach of breath;  
Too large a distance makes another death:  
My youth is in her Spring; autumnal vows  
Will make me riper for so sweet a Spouse;  
When aftertimes have burnished my desire,  
I'll shoot thee flames for flames, and fire for fire.   

O leave me not, nor turn thy beauty from me;  
Look, look upon me, though thy flames ou'rcome me.   
author scalae Paradisi. Tom. 9 Aug. cap. 8. Fear not, O Bride, nor despair; think not thyself contem●…ed, if thy Bridegroom withdraw his face a while: All things cooperate for the best: both from his absence, and his presence thou gainest light: He cometh to thee, and he goeth from thee: he cometh, to make thee consolate; he goeth, to make thee cautions, lest thy abundant consolation puss thee up: he cometh that thy languishing soul may be comforted; he goeth, lest his familiarity should be contemned; and being absent, to be more desired; and being desired, to be more earnestly sought; and being long sought, to be more acceptably sound.  

EPIG. 15.  
My soul, sin's monster, whom, with greater ease  
Ten thousand fold, thy God could make then please;  
What wouldst thou have? nor pleased with sun, nor shade?  
Heaven knows not what to make of what he made.     

THE FAREWELL.  

  
REV●…LATION 2. 10. Be thou faithful unto death, and I will give thee the crown of life. 

1  
BE faithful, Lord, what's that?  
Believe: 't is easy to believe; but what?  
That he whom thy hard heart hath wounded,  
And whom thy scorn hath spit upon,  
Hath paid thy sine, and hath compounded  
For those foul deeds thy hands have done:  
Believe, that he whose gentle palms  
Thy needle-pointed sins have nailed,  
Hath born thy slavish load (of alms)  
And made supply where thou hast failed:  
Did ever misery find so strange relief?  
It is a love too strong for man's belief.   

2  
Believe that he, whose side  
Thy crimes have pierced with their rebellions, died,  
To save thy guilty soul from dying  
Ten thousand horrid deaths, from whence  
There was no 'scape, there was no flying,  
But through his dearest bloods expense:  
Believe, this dying friend requires  
No other thanks for all his pain,  
But even the truth of weak desires,  
And for his love, but love again:  
Did ever misery find so true a friend?  
It is a love too vast to comprehend.   

3  
With floods of tears baptize  
And drench these dry, these unregen rate eyes,  
Lord, whet my dull, my blunt belief,  
And break this fleshly rock in sunder,  
That from this heart, this hell of grief,  
May spring a heaven of love and wonder:  
O, if thy mercies will remove  
And melt this lead from my belief,  
My grief will then resine my love,  
My love will then refresh my grief:  
Then weep mine eyes as he hath bled; vouchsafe  
To drop for every drop an Epitaph.   

4  
But is the crown of Glory  
The wages of a lamentable story?  
Or can so great a purchase rise  
From a salt humour? can mine eye  
Run fast enough' obtain this prize?  
If so, Lord, who's so mad to die?  
Thy tears are trifles; thou must do:  
Alas, I cannot; then endeavour:  
I will; but will a tug or two  
Suffice the turn? thou must persever:  
I'll strive till death; and shall my feeble strife  
Be crowned? I'll crown it with a crown of life.   

5  
But is there such a dearth  
That thou must buy what is thy due by birth?  
He whom thy hands did form of dust,  
And gave him breath upon condition,  
To love his great creator, must  
He now be thine by composition?  
Art thou a gracious God and mild,  
Or headstrong man rebellious rather?  
O, man's a base rebellious child,  
And thou a very gracious Father:  
The gift is thine; we strive, thou crownest our strife;  
Thou giv'st us Faith; and Faith, a crown of life.     
FINIS.