Christian soldier, in armor and bearing sword and shield, receiving a laurel wreath or crown from a hand emerging from the clouds (Consolation), with the Flesh and the Devil on either side and the World beneath his feet 
Consolation  
The Christian Soldier.  
the Devil Resisted.  
the Flesh mortified  
the World Crucified.  

O Crocodilian World whose Shining gloss  
Is guilded Emptyness, and painted dross:  
Thy Fawns, or frowns I matter not, not I;  
Crucify th' I must Thy Sister Flesh must die.  
And Soul destroying Devil whose malice 'tis,  
T'accuse th' Brethren that seek to bliss:  
Thy Roaring rage is nought; Stand off or I  
Will make thee th' World's Captain, captively.     

POEMS SACRED AND SATIRICAL, viz. 

Prayers Paradise.  
The World.  
The Flesh.  
The jesuite.  
The Devil.  
Man's Misery.  
Sin's Infirmity.  
Sin's Impudence.  
The Penitent Sinner.  
The Soules-sea-fight.  
The single & Married-life.  
Tears Triumph.  
Mercies Miracle.  
Faith.  
Hope.  
Charity.  
Midnight's Meditation  
Virtues Pyramid.  
Chastity and Lust.  
The Divine Dream.  
The Divine Echo  
Death's Masqueing-Night.    
By NATHANAEL RICHARDS.  
Printed at London by T. Paine, for H. Blunden at the Castle in Cornhill. 1641.   

THE AUTHOR.  

N o man so high but ere he die may fall,  
All Flesh is frail, all subject unto thrall,  
There's no content on Earth, none certain bred,  
Healthful to day we live; to morrow dead.  
Art, nor Promotion, meuds not each Man's state,  
Nor are the Greatest, truly fortunate.  
Advanc'ments but a Breath, delight a Toy,  
Each glittering Pomp each soule-seducing joy  
Like Hellbred poison, works the soul's annoy.   

Reject all lewd, all vain affecting pleasure,  
Jntend thy future good, Celestial treasure.  
Contest with sin, still strive, the conquest wear  
He that will conquer, patiently must bear.  
At such rare Combats, aid from Heaven is sent  
Respecting Man, sin's danger to prevent,  
Dear is the Love of God, in him delight,  
Seek Heavenly joys, those comforts infinite.    

TO THE RIGHT WORTHY AND NOBLY DISPOSED THOMAS SOAME Esquire, Alderman, and one of the Burgesses of Parliament for the Honourable City of LONDON.  
Sir,  
THough a Stranger to your Person, I am no Stranger in my thankful Heart (to the All-glorious Majesty of Heaven) for such as you: You whose known worth, & inward Candour, nor frowns, nor Flattery, could ever force from its true Goodness for the general good. Monster Ingratitude cannot say I flatter; Witness this City's approbation, unanimous consent, free choice of you that are, (the All-guiding hand of Heaven be praised) free from the aspersion, Spots and stains of this World's Vicious and Ambitious Greatness. Let it not then seem strange, that I (encouraged by your Noble Virtues) have here made bold, (out of an honest heart) Right worthy Sir, unto yourself to Dedicate this Book. It is a known Maxim to approved judgements, that Illicita non prohibere consensus erroris est, which being the full scope of this my endeavour, intended only for the exaltation of Virtue, detestation of Vice, and like the Seaman's Compass to direct souls from the dangerous Passage indirect. The Scylla and Charybdis Shelves and Rocks of this unclean and most uncertain Ocean of the World. This being my intent, (as caveats against sin not to be cavilled against, but by guilty Persons.) Accept then (virtuous Sir) this my good will, take it from him, who (leaving you and yours, all your fair Actions and occasions present to the All-pure God which never leaves his) remains  
Ever devoted to your Worthy Virtues NATHANAEL RICHARDS.   

POEMS SACRED AND SATIRICAL.  

Prayers Paradise.  

ALL-Potent Scatt'rer of Man's o'er rank state,  
Thou that dost raise the humble, the proud hate  
Soule-saving God, joy to the best of men,  
Great terror to the damned, guide my Pen,  
Head, hand, heart, all, apply my soul to win  
Souls to thy glory; let the sense of sin,  
(Companion still to misery) affright,  
Times scoffing Idiots from the lewd delight  
Of soul confounding sin, make us to pray  
With ardency of soul, great God of day,  
Fashion our wills to thine, let each proud eye,  
Humbled with tears, admire thy Majesty.  
The spirit of Prayer must amend us all,  
(So writes the Churches Atlas, holy Paul,)  
We shipwreck else; souls that will Heaven inherit,  
Must pray, and pray with confidence of Spirit;  
Pray for our King, pray for the blessed event,  
Of this our England's present Parliament:  
Have we not cause; does not this Nation know,  
War and the Plague so threats our overthrow;  
We soon were lost, did not sweet mercy yet,  
Protect our Peace? let us not then forget  
To fast and pray, (Lord) make us all inclined  
To praise thy Name, Eternally to mind  
Thy mighty favours, unto this Realm more  
Than all the World, for Peace and plenty's store;  
While neighbouring Nations perish by the sword,  
Fierce Fire and Famine, wanting the sacred word  
To solace souls; this Nation lives at peace,  
And might continue did our murmuring cease.  
We hear the word preached, have our recreations,  
Walking abroad, our peaceful preservations,  
Our streets have seen no Rider and his horse  
O'er whelmed in blood, nor have we seen what's worse  
Big-bellied women ripped, the insants' brains  
Dashed in their Father's faces; nor whole lanes  
Of Armies in the field wheltering in blood,  
Nor thousands famished in our streets forfood.  
Our blessed time of Peace did never spy  
Cities a fire, poor people's dismal cry:  
Age torn by th'hair o'th'head, Virgins defiled,  
Dainty Dames ravished, and the tender child  
Stabbed in the Mother's Arms; God grant such sights  
May never fill our Land, with like affrights:  
Importune Heaven, on God alone rely,  
True prayer to God, is what? Nuncius Coeli;  
Mercies sweet messenger, that sweetly bears  
To heavens bright Majesty man's trickling tears  
Wrapped up in sighs, hearts-grief, sorrows sad face  
Wrinkled with cares for sin, which conquers grace;  
What humble soul mounts heaven's celestial Air  
In up-flying fervent purity of Prayer,  
But God sends down a pardon; Age and Youth,  
Through ardent prayer, prove the sons of truth.  
Fearest thou stern War, Fire, Sword, Times, dear years dearth?  
Pray fervently, cease not till Heaven and Earth  
Echo the Spirit of thy Supplications,  
Tears of contrition, holy meditations:  
So shall no Devils ruling in the Air,  
Nor difficult passage stop zealous Prayer.  
" The want of prayer, proves the soul's decay,  
" Men cease to prosper, when they cease to pray.  
We all are sinners: sin raises such a storm  
In our base blood, reason can ne'er reform.  
Urge reason to us, it will do no good,  
Fervent Prayer only master's flesh and blood.  
'tis Clavis coeli, which unlocks God's treasure,  
" Fervent prayer opens and shuts Heaven at pleasure,  
The Elements, Fire, Water, Earth, and Air,  
Are all at the command of fervent Prayer.  
Elijah prayed that sire might descend  
From Heaven, and heaven alone did him befriend.  
Elijah prayed, it reigned not for the space  
Of three years and six months on the earth's face.  
Fervent prayer never did true solace lack;  
Moses he prayed, and the Red-sea fled bacl,  
The prayers of the faithful never failed;  
Moses and Aaron's fervent prayers prevailed  
'Gainst Korah, Dathan, and abiram's sin,  
Earth opened, swallowed them, with all their kin.  
Earnest prayer truly is (heavens truth to say)  
From man to God, from God to man the way.  
" Prayer maugre all Earth's Villainous entices,  
" Makes man at peace with God, at war with vices.  
O Text of Truth never to be denied,  
Celestial prayer quells Luciferiall Pride.  
Cools raging lust, tames the Malicious,  
Envy, Wrath, Gluttony, cures the Covetous,  
heavens in that prayer when (circled round with vice)  
Man conquers sin, that's Prayers paradise.  
Firm Prayer steers souls to each soule-saving motion,  
Sighs, Tears, repentance, and to all devotion,  
As the true skill of a Pilot is unknown  
But in a Tempest; (or a Captain prone  
To noble deeds) his valour is unseen  
But in a battle (where the field hath been  
His mount of Honour) so the rare worth  
Of a true Christian, can be ne'er set forth,  
Nor ever of th'All-viewing eye discerned,  
Till like the Hebrews General he has learned  
heavens pleasing science, the Celestial Art  
Of fervent Prayer; that's the true Christians pair.  
When the Hearts took with a delight to pray,  
Souls clearly see, finde a compendious way  
To know Heaven savingly, to curb offence,  
And burn in ravishing joy, truth's Excellence.  
Such sweet content, all mortals Mundane wit,  
(Humane delights,) can never equal i●  
" The fixing of our hearts on heaven by prayer,  
" Heals sins deep festering wounds, kills killing care,  
Cures the distracted mind, proves soul's defence,  
Mercies subduer, sacred conference.  
O thou Ens Enrium, sempeternall light,  
Give me the spirit to pray, to pray aright;  
Lest Tempest-tost with cares, thinking to shun  
Sinnes guife, on ruints Rock my soul's undone:  
" Pray then, O pray; he that prays willingly,  
" Be rich or poor, can ne'er live wickedly.  
Prayer is the wing by which the soul does fly  
To Heaven; and meditation is the eye  
Wherewith we see God: by prayer we talk,  
And by our Charity with God we walk.  
Souls that will mount, gain a Celistiall Crown,  
Must pray with ardency, look up, not down,  
Like times too many mumblers that do fall  
To pray, on the half knee, or none at all,  
Nor desperately like such, as think no sin  
To come to Church, till Sermon time begin;  
Entering (O most abhorred) so sneakingly,  
So rude in reverence, pray so peakingly,  
As doth amaze religious fortitude,  
To see lewd Mortals base ingratitude  
To their Redeemer; he that dreads heaven's Rod,  
Prays ardently t'appease the wrath of God.  
Else like the sickles edge, or Razor keen,  
heavens wrath works worldlings quick dispatch unseen,  
Sharp Vengeance undiscerned full swift does fall,  
Leaves not a life uncut; but mows down all,  
All grumbling Nations for their sin's excess,  
Pride to the poor, and rude unthankfulness,  
All Sects, all Schisms, that dare by book maintain,  
And for their own base ends, their godless gain,  
" Make Scripture fight with Scripture▪ fatal ill,  
" Sanctity save Kingdoms from such cursed skill.  
O the deep folly that on man attends▪  
Our flesh and blood are to ourselves self friends.  
We ask, and pray, but both amiss, and why?  
We neither ask nor pray with fervency,  
Our minds at random run, this way, and that,  
Upon a world of vanities; Idle chat,  
Fashions, and fooleries; heaven pardon sin:  
We oft are out in Prayer, seldom in.  
Sin like a whirlwind circle's feeble prayer,  
Snatches it up, then whirls it into air,  
Infection's air, whose fatal poison spreads,  
Powers down hot vengeance, misery on our heads,  
Crosses, continual cares, perpetual pain,  
Weak Prayer makes bitter still the fruit of gain,  
Converts the key of kindness into lust,  
Careless prayer makes the life of love unjust,  
Dulls noble wisdom, overrules all reason,  
To the forgetful souls Eternal Treason.  
" We pray to heaven, yet mind not heavenly things,  
" O foul ingratitude to the King of Kings.  
" Man's mingling prayer with Earth's cold cogitation,  
" Merits swift vengeance; clothed in black damnation.  
Think on thy God then, in thy days of youth,  
Search in the Morning of thy years for truth;  
Early betimes, before the evil day  
Of sin, and Satan, that does every way  
Stops man's Colestiall journey, scatters snares  
In every place; we are not safe at Prayers:  
No sooner man to heaven divine thoughts rease,  
But strait the Devil whispers in his ear,  
Think on the world, thy wealth, thy poor estate,  
Means must be had; think on thy neighbour's hate:  
Think on revenge, think on thy change, thy crosses,  
Thy law-suites, ships at sea, thy land, thy losses;  
Away with Prayer●; puzzle not thy brain,  
Mind thou what's present, what's to come resraine.  
Thus speaks the subtle Fiend, of purpose bend,  
To put us out of practice to repent.  
Like a false Sexton, he sets bacl the Clock  
To delay time, makes that our stumbling block;  
Makes Time our Bawd, with flat'rie to betray,  
And put us quite, out of the mind to pray:  
With glorious outside, and deceitful riches,  
Satan fools mortals, wisest men bewitches.  
Note but the whore-like mind of man's condition,  
(So generally in all) when they petition  
Their earthly King; (Lord) what a stir we keep,  
The busy brain's in labour, cannot sleep,  
Nor take its natural rest, the careful mind  
Is totally took up, wholly inclined  
To give each word his weight; for to relieve  
Our wants, to sue for pardon, or repreive,  
Profit or gain; then head, hand, heart and all,  
Knees that ne'er bend at Hean's high will, can fall  
Prostrate in all obsequiousness for place,  
Lofty preferment, and a Prince's Grace,  
Then tongue and heart both jump in one agree,  
Mind nothing but his Earthly Majesty;  
Beg, kneel, implore, we fervently importune  
Pardon for some foul fact, some brittle fortune.  
This we can do, we can with hot pursuit  
To compass our vain ends, ne'er cease sin's suit;  
The trot, the amble, and the full career,  
No speed is wanting, nor no pains too dear  
To purchase sins Exchequer, riches store,  
Ambitious aims, Time's glory, Beauty's whore,  
This too too many can, and in that way,  
Eager like hungry hounds, soon sent sins prey;  
But to the King of those Eternal sires  
That spangle Heaven, lukewarm in their desires,  
" Impudent in all Vice, in baseness bold,  
" Christian's half coddled, neither hot nor cold,  
" O Hell of hells; Man to''th' Celestial Race  
" Does seldom run, but with a jade-like pace,  
Never considering how the mind that's wrapped  
In wilful wickedness, is ever apt.  
To pine at Princes, snarl at pious laws,  
Scold people on to fight Religion's cause.  
When truth and all true Christians know Religion  
Consists in true obedience, not Rebellion;  
" Men that give way to ill, t'increase their good,  
" Bring famine on a land, fierce fire and blood.  
" All villages in a Kingdom, Sin does delude,  
" Leaves it a prey to''th' lawless Multitude.  
In true obedience then, with humble knee,  
Eye, head, hand, heart, pray to Eternity.  
Throw from thy mind all worldly cares, temptations,  
All wand'ring, idle, vain imaginations.  
Abandon flaring pride, close fisted bribes,  
And like the Father of twelve potent Tribes,  
Tug with Aimighty God, still strive to win  
Pardon for each foul fact, times uggly sin.  
" Like Arts rare engine's Excellent's defence,  
" 'Gainst fires in Cities which (to clear offence)  
Raises from Earth so sweet a watery shower,  
As slacks the furious flame, extincts her power:  
So let the Art of fervent prayer raise  
Our watery tears to Heaven, to Heavn'n that pays  
In the descent, man's penitent desires,  
With plenitude of grace, to quench sins fires.  
God made the ear to hear the happiness  
We have from him, the tongue still to express  
The glory of his name; the eye to see  
The works of his divine Integrity.  
Eye, head, hand, heart, God the whole man did frame,  
All to rejoice in his All-Sacred name.  
Happy the soul that prays with sincere sorrow,  
Repent to day, defer not till to morrow.  
And when you pray, think unto whom you pray;  
'tis to the World's great builder, Lord of day,  
‛ Mercies bright Majesty, th'Almighty strong,  
Just grand decider of each poor man's wrong,  
That tumbles down the mighty, only can  
Make the most Potent Prince, the poorest man;  
The peace of Kingdoms in a breath disjoint,  
Spit all Earth's Children on wars Rapier's point;  
Turn fruitful fields to iron, burn the grass,  
And for our sins, convert the heavens to brass;  
Swell surging seas, the dreadful deeps with waves,  
Storms, famine, fire and sword, to dig our graves,  
How dare proud mortals then ne'er take to mind  
Heav's sacred eye-fight? shall dark deeds so blind  
Man's Machivilian mischief, as to think  
Raised on Ambition's top, he cannot sink?  
He must, he must; bad states-menne'r so big  
Fall of themselves in time, break like a twig.  
As one nail drives another out of place,  
So time clears truth, drives flat'rie to disgrace:  
Flatterers are fearful Fiends, bright honours sting,  
Serpents, the worst of Traitors to a King;  
Court-Eare-wiggs, nimbly wriggling in the Ears  
Of greatness, mighty profits, madness, fears,  
So painted o'er, shadowed for sound advice,  
" A good King cannot knows virtue from vice,  
Till Heaven (that brings the darkest deeds to light)  
Produce in time the truth, twixt wrong and right.  
Man whosoever thou art, take this advice,  
'Tis Angel's counsel, Prayers Paradise.  
" Walk after God's way in the day of light,  
" Or end thy journey in the darkest night,  
there's but one univerfall remedy  
For all our ills, each soul's extremity,  
And that is fervent prayer, all must resort  
To Prayer, or perish; there is no safe port  
(In this world's Mare Mortuum) for man  
To put into, but prays; prayer only can  
Poured out in fervency of soul prevent  
Plagues, famine, blood, and death, war's dire event,  
Bred by seditious subjects, whose desires  
Are still the fuel unto popular fires.  
Prayer shall confound, dead all the devilish deeds  
Of foreign foes, all home-corrupted seeds:  
Dissembling Hypocrites, by hell's aid appointed  
To stiff truth, and grieve the Lords anointed.  
Prayer like to hasty powder fir'd shall choke,  
Flame viperous Rebels to a sudden smoke.  
Pray then, through fervent prayer imitate  
Moses and jacob, wrestle with blessed fate,  
Subdue thy sins, 'gainst sinful flesh and blood,  
" Importune heaven, and heaven will do thee good.  
" Gods promise is, if fervently we pray,  
" And use our best endeavours every day  
" To fly from sin, resolving to betake us  
" To holy means, he never will forsake us.  
" Never did any do their fair endeavour  
" To pray to God, that ever lost his labour,  
" Nay more, if God but see thy inclination  
" To pray, he will prevent thy supplication,  
Answer thy full desire,  thou canst crave,  
Grant that, thy heart did never hope to have:  
Witness good heaven 'tis true; there's no denial,  
For I have found th'experimental trial,  
And were for ever like a soul in hell  
Worthy to burn; should I forget to tell,  
In midst of dangers, how I called on thee,  
Merciful God; and thou didst set me free.  
At home, abroad, at Sea, upon the land,  
Here, there, and every where, thou Lord didst stand  
My sure protector 'gainst griefs infinite,  
Times flattering ruin, and the world's despite,  
Sickness, sad discontent, when I and care,  
Shaken hands with sorrow's Minion deep despair.  
That very hour, in heaviness locked up  
Beyond all hope of health; then mercies Cup  
I freely tasted; blessed be thy name,  
To me my Gracious God, prove still the same,  
Circled me round thou All-Bternall health,  
'Gainst all enticements, Honour, Beauty, Wealth,  
Those fatal slies of sin; which though best men  
Do ne'er so much flap off, sly on again:  
Arm, a●me good heaven, Time's Microcosm in me,  
Through Faith, Hope, Love, enable me to be  
Truth's Champion; Troops of Furies to withstand,  
And stave Hell's Tempter off, dead sins command.  
" Time's expert faithful soldier is a jewel,  
" Fit for a King, to fight a Kingdom's Duel.  
" Valour and honesty are Princely twins,  
" there's nothing makes a Coward, but his sins.  
Lord, let a watchful Sentinel within  
My weak mortality, so keep out sin,  
That when so e'er we meet, Morn, Noon, or Night,  
I with my good sword Faith, may in thy sight,  
Heavens Saintlike Soldier prove, subdue and win  
At truths close constant fight, conquest o'er sin.  
Hear me my God, mount thoughts with admiration,  
Upon the highest step of contemplation.  
Irradiate (Lord) my mind, past sins control  
Conari Sancta; Angelize my so ule.  
Give what thou dost command great God, and then,  
Command even what thou wilt; Amen, Amen.  
EArnest prayer, and the committing of sin,  
Will never lodge together in one Inn.  
For sure if prayer cannot make thee cease  
From sin; sins sure to rob thy soul of peace,  
And make thee leave off praying; God's all Eye,  
Let our petitions then with fervency  
Fly unto him, whose Majesty is such,  
It comprehends all power; do but touch,  
Try, and then trust, petition but his name  
In ardency of soul, you le find a flame  
All-heav'nly holy, thrill through thy vital blood  
To quell corruption, turn all ill to good.  
O that the Souls of mole's to the life  
Would Act this part, subdue sins stormy strife  
Through fervent prayer; and in that swift course run,  
Firm as the golden taper of the sun  
Which hourly sails the Circuit of the Sky,  
That, were excelling heavenly harmony.  
'Twould make this Globe on Earth whereon we tread,  
Times glorious Theatre; the rich stage spread  
And hung all-round with silver shining stars  
Pricked fall of holy thoughts; in them no jars  
Of times discording music dare appear,  
The Musick-roome of concord being there;  
There Truths fair Actor, where so  he turns  
His penitent Eye, with holy raptures burns,  
Sees the All-sole Spectator, Three in one  
Seated in glories Gallery; where none  
But his Omniscient blessed beatitude,  
Sits the sole judge of soul's Ingratitude,  
Actors, and Action; man's good part, and his ill,  
Th'unworthy Actors, dull, imperfect skill  
Bred by distemper, gross neglect in study,  
Careless Rehearsals, and a skull so muddy,  
As never minds th'infinite pains and Art,  
Penned, to advance and fit him with a part  
That might immortalize; inflame desire,  
Ravish his sinne-sicke sense; his soul inspire  
With sacred ecstasy; high apprehension,  
Seraphical love, divine affection.  
heavens gracious Actor makes this precious use  
Of his fair Part; ne'er turns it to abuse,  
Nor wrongs the writer; but amazed with wonder,  
As one shot through and through with holy thunder  
At pious lines; whose powerful Energy,  
(In Noble spirits frustrates misery,)  
Tames Pride, cools lust, makes the wise Actor see  
His soul in danger; circled with sins, that He,  
In all meek Humbleness of soul prepares him,  
Not rashly hot (like some that go to swim,)  
But takes a time to cool by meditation,  
Ponders with sweet celestial affectation  
On his soule-pleasing Part, dares not venture  
To tread Times Stage; nor unadvised to enter  
Till perfect in that part, whose excellence  
Gains grace, sins pardon, Mercles' Audience.  
Then like a bold and able Musketeire  
Armed with a world of valour, trampling fear  
Under his valiant foot, set's bravely on  
The front of danger, where destruction.  
In fiery flames, threatens to scourge his error,  
With neverfailing death; yet scorning terror  
He in his good cause, still opposing all,  
Horrors and terrors what e'er can befall,  
Mounted on valour's wings never retires,  
Still he wins ground; his ready nimble fires  
Play thick upon the foe, add flame on flame,  
Undaunted stands, toth' honour of his name.  
And ne'er forsakes the fury of the fight,  
Till conquest Crowns him in his Country's right.  
So fares it with Truth's Actor, when his Part  
Enters him on the Stage a Pious heart.  
Then with clutched heaved up hands above his head,  
Eyes drowned in Tears, and Arms divinely spread  
To meet with mercy, servently begins  
So to bewail the whirlpool of his sins,  
That to gain pardon, rid away all fears,  
Sighs swim in Sobs, deep groans in floods of tears  
Importunes heaven, good Actions ne'rgives over,  
Till he hath quit the world, and cleared sins score,  
That like to Ariadne crowned with stars,  
The soul in glory shines, all ill debars.  
Admit at first, thou canst not frame thyself  
For Cares, and Crosses, Lust and worldly pelf  
To pray to God aright; yet still endeavour,  
Combat with linne; for victory persevere:  
What though to pray thou findest thyself unapt,  
Dull, heavy, sad, easy to be entrapped?  
Start from the Devil that ensnares thee so,  
With sloths lewd lullaby for endless woe.  
Let me beseech thee to be heavenly wise,  
Rub drowsy dulness from thy tender eyes,  
Retire unto thy chamber, shut the door,  
There wring of thy hands fall down, implore  
heavens sacred aid, on thy dejected knees,  
Pray to that glorious Majesty which sees  
The depth of darkest secrets; beat thy breast,  
Till tears for sin arise ne'er give it rest.  
Strike, strike the stony ent'rance of thy heart,  
Act to the life, the Publicars' true part,  
Knock, and knock hard; make l'ertues hammer felt  
On thy hearts slinty Anvil; till it melt  
To soft compassion; when that spring appears,  
Eyes turn to pearly drops, to floods of tears,  
Such streaming pearls of pity, being shed  
For sin in thee; as shall when thou art dead,  
Mount thy triumphing soul on Angels wings  
To live for ever; Crowned by the King of Kings:  
Great is the power of fervent Prayer, that can  
Conquer the All-Creator, ravish man;  
Fervent prayer, makes the crooked conscience even;  
Prayers, are those scaling laders set to heaven  
That lay long siege unto the throne of God,  
Surround divinity, keep in his Rod.  
And never will departed, nor raise the siege,  
Till they compel Nature's Celestial Liege  
To grant what they do come for; feign would have,  
To shield sad souls from the infernal Grave.    

THE WORLD.  

Vain is this World, this Strumpet World that can  
Yield nothing constant; Love 'twixt man & man,  
Which next his Maker should be most respected,  
Is soon broke, and most of all neglected,  
Misled by every vain fantastic toy,  
To forget God; bewitched with carnal joy,  
Bundles of Banbles, imbecility,  
Biles of Apparel, Botch Nobility,  
Lordship, Ladyships, Fool'ries, and Fashions,  
Lust-panting Humours, ten thousand passions.  
Rich men, the more to blame, as this Age goes,  
Debar House-keeping to maintain gay .  
Arich Caroche, three hundred pound a Gown,  
Thirty pound a Smock, or their wives will frown,  
There is no living with them; they must ride,  
Where, when, and how they lift in glittering pride,  
High flasting burning Bravery, blind eyes,  
Flint Hearts, dull Ears, deaf to the poor man's cries.  
Such is the dullness of mortality,  
And such the worlds could Hospitalitte.  
" Brave , fall feeding, pride, ease, and laughter,  
" Are people's sins, that breed a people's slaughter.  
" Time's maw-wormes, muckwormes, cancer-worms of sin.  
" Ruins our Peace without, our Peace within.  
" Each dusty Magistrate with Brib'rie fed,  
" One robs the Living, another robs the dead,  
" A third the Arch-theefe plays by cunning stealch,  
" Knave Knights, by Patent rob the Commonwealth,  
" join with much, too much ill Injustice, he  
" Sodomitical lecher for a greedy Fee  
" Dares licence lust, glad if he may prevail  
" (Suck wealth from prostitute Harlots,) never fail.  
Man's mind, which most his maker should respect,  
(With fear and trembling, and that true respect  
Belongs to his high Majesty) the net  
Of sin so snates, we worthless worms forget  
Gods thunder-darting Vengeance, glorious state,  
Still forget God, forget to contemplate  
With ravishing Love, true Love, pure heart, pure eyes,  
That's the defect, makes hourly mischiefs rise,  
" Ambitious Lords attired in Antic shape,  
" Joy in the ways of Lust, Murder, and rape.  
" Ladies, with charms, tricks, humours, that they have,  
" Abuse their Lords, dispatch 'em to the grave.  
" The jealous Husband, mischievous in ill,  
" Through vain suspect, his constant wife to kill.  
" The carelesse-Clergy-man in his degree  
" Satan corrupts; makes for a goldensee  
" The greedy Lawyer, (fed by Client's strife)  
" Bribed Angels take, for the the true Angel life.  
Just Judge, the unjust'dustie Magistrate,  
Father the son, the son the Father hate;  
Brother, the brother prosecute to death,  
Quarrel for toys; stop one another's breath.  
The World does hour'ly tempt fools worldly wise,  
The deceitful Tradesman that seems precise,  
And is an arrant Knave; to think the honey,  
And only blessed life, still to get money,  
Mocks at the poor man's virtue, and in pride,  
Styles him a virtuous Fool; thus Knaves deride  
The poverty of men, which does as sarre  
(In Heavenly wealth) transcend them, as a star  
The richest Gem on Earth; But 'tis not so  
With the World's wealthy worldlings; they say no,  
Rich enough, honest enough; all they can  
Aims at the outward, not the inward man.  
" Poverty made a scosse, a scorn, a wind,  
" Gold smothers Virtue, blackest actions blind.  
" Gold got in God's name, with an honest face,  
" Comes flow; but in the Devil's name apace.  
Such is the World's condition, Good men's thrall,  
On Parth there's no true comfort, none at all.  
The honest minded Scholar shall no'r lack  
" Sorrows, nor want of means to break his back.  
" The pitiful Soldier in his greatest need  
" Has his throat cut; he shall be sure to bleed.  
" The fair Gamester, for his mild square play,  
" Is soon cozened, sure to lose every day.  
" The faithful Lover oft is paid with hate,  
" The more in Love, the more unfortunate,  
Be rich or poor, in high or low estate,  
Pth'mod'rate mean, or fully fortunate,  
Unsatiate mankind, ever discontent,  
Desires to live, yet never lives content,  
In scarcity of corn, for plenty cry,  
In plenty, strait forget God instantly.  
Such is man's erring soul, which ought to know,  
" Life's but a long sad Pilgrimage of woe,  
" An Ark of travel, shop of vanity,  
" Storehouse of tristes, inhumanity.  
" A field of stones, a path of thorny pricks,  
" Meadow of Scorpions, Grove of Basilickes.  
The World's unquiet rest is all Man's foe,  
Dangers attend us where so'e're we go.  
Mischievous Deceits, Brawls, Quarrels; Fightings,  
Falsehearted Neighbourhood, base backbitings.  
Friendships, so faithless ripe, full blown with evil,  
A friend to day, the next, for gain proves Devil.  
The World's condition right; 'tis slave to sin,  
Beware of it; the world's a cunning gin,  
" 'twill entrap souls; call then to God for grace,  
Let grief for worldly crossesne'r take place,  
Never let sorrow run into extremes  
Unless for sin; so shall Celestial Beams  
Glorify thy soul; make it immortal,  
Free it fromills what ever can befall  
In this false promising world; this Maze of woe,  
Where wretched worldlings know not where to go  
To wind them out; such are the various ways  
Of life-oppressing years, Months, Weeks and days.  
As Prose ill read, abide too much missusing  
Or virtuous verse, when Rogues have the perusing,  
So fares it with the fair and flourishing line  
Of that sweet Heavenly strain, Poesy Divine,  
Basely neglected, by the monster Crew,  
" Of Puff-Past-Muddie-Mindes, that pish, and mew,  
" Make a wry Close-stoole-face, a squint eyed glance  
" At Virtuous verse, (whose sad mischance  
" Is to go unregarded) when the crime,  
" Of a Lascivious bastard Ballad-rime,  
" (If bawdy enough) though never so unfit,  
" Wins favour, profit, and the praise of wit.  
" Read with delight, and much, too much required,  
" Copies sought after, greedily desired,  
" When perfect Poetry, (Music to the soul,  
" Truth's firm opposer, 'gainst crimes filthy foul)  
" If read, most read for fashion, small delight,  
" No, comfort, no respect, but scornful slight.  
" And such is Virtue's Foe; the World's proud Minion,  
" In whom there's no true love, no perfect Union.  
O Divine Poesy I lament thy state,  
To see thy beauty disproportionate,  
So poorly in esteem, there's few I see,  
Or none at all, take true delight in thee.  
This wanton World, fare sooner will approve,  
joy in Pot-Poets lousy Rhyming love,  
Or want on Ovid's strain, to itch the ear,  
And stir the blood to Lust; rather than hear  
The Sempeternall Aim of Noble verse  
Which points at Heaven; and tells us of that sierce  
All-threatning Thunderer; he that descries  
Our secret deeds; our blackest Actions spies,  
At which; amazed my Muse stands wrapped in wonder,  
Beggs mercy, mercy, O thou God of Thunder,  
Or we shall shipwreck all; All, too too blame,  
Fare too unmindful of Gods sacred name,  
His blessings day by day; his great mercy,  
Long suffering, and excelling safety.  
Why should we worms stand precious in Heaven's sight  
And nor be damned to everlasting-Night  
For our foule-erring sins; sins that excell●  
Ingratitude to Heaven, picks open Hell.  
Hell; that this instant Gapes to seize this world,  
Which deserves every moment to be hurled  
To endless Flames; but for the Excellence  
Of OUR FATHER'S wonderful patience.  
O for the Pen of pure perfection,  
To Character man's imperfection,  
Open the blind excessive sinners Eyes,  
(Force tears for sin) make him, himself despise,  
Tear open his eyes, that Allamazed with Horror,  
Trembling, he may behold his dreadful Error  
Live; as in sulphurous Flames, see his evil,  
See the Grand Devil, and cease to be a Devil.  
Holla commanding Empress of my Brain,  
Whither thus stings my Muse, divert thy strain.  
The Worlds a Rack, Time's Tenterhook to catch  
At minds most honest, makes a man awretch,  
Thousands in want, finding no way to cure it,  
Hazard the Gallows, rather than endure it.  
Mis'ry of Miseri's, when Coin grows scant,  
Man's fortunes Football, there's no wots to want,  
It dulls brave wits, when nothing else can do it;  
Tames, & makes , when Time brings men to it.  
Want makes a man turn slave, unto a slave,  
Scofed, scorned, and flouted at by every knave,  
By every silken sodden-headed Fool,  
That never felt heavens rod, nor miseries school.  
Want breatheth mischiefs never thought upon,  
Makes too many dainty Dames turn wanton.  
Want (like a Madman) makes men swear and dice,  
Forget their God, turn Virtue into Vice.  
Husband and wife, the sister, and the Brother,  
Compelled through want, devour one another.  
Merchants, Lawyers, yea, some Divines will fall,  
When want doth sound gripe, 'twill try 'em all.  
And therefore (as an Antidote) be sure,  
Strive to please God first; that's the only cure  
'Gainst Wolvish want; then let thy present state,  
Think on some honest means; 'twill new create  
Thy understanding; put thee on away  
With reverent Soul, on bended knees each day  
To serve thy God aright; so he from falling  
Proves thy Protector; gives thee a Virtuous calling.  
Heaven grant, the honest mind may never know  
The fierce assaults of wants; that hell of woe,  
Torture of mind, murderer of modesty,  
Highway to Theft, Cutthroat of chastity,  
The key of whoredom, Bane of that true love,  
Which many boast; but few did ever prove.  
Many vow Love, for ever to be true,  
Yet, when want comes, whores are not more untrue,  
How sweetly did that Sacred Psalmist sing,  
And run Times true Division on the string  
Of Misery, when he of God did crave  
Nor want, nor too much wealth, lest in the Grave  
Of damned Despair, much want might hale him in,  
And riches mount him to the highest sin;  
Lackey his way to lewdness, to mistrust  
God's mercies; and to practise ways unjust,  
A holy fear, seized on that Sacred King  
To dread wants dangrous Dart, proud riches sting.  
May the good Man, still thirst for mercy's Cup,  
Climb jacob's sacred Ladder, and mount up  
Into a fiery Chariot, burning zeal,  
Live a bright Angel, in heavens commonweal,  
Free from this world, whose pomp and bravery,  
Is but a Land of Dirt, mere slavery.   
Mundus domus ampla malorum, Ac scelerum Patria est.   

THE FLESH.  

THe Flesh unto the Soul's a bitter Pill,  
Sweet gilded poison, Candid o'er to kill,  
Hurried, Caroacht in Pride, with glittering show  
Of swelling pomp, whose sweet effect, is woe,  
Fleshly delights begets much misery,  
Makes couples married unadvisedly,  
Thinking Love tittle tattles, can feed their wishes,  
Love soon grows cold, where there is empty dishes.  
Of all the sins that are, when nothing can  
Ruin the soul; the Flesh prevails with man.  
Man's eyes no sooner on devotion wait,  
But in steps Carnal concupiscence strait,  
she's at his Elbow still, to itch him on,  
Th'unhappy path to his confusion.  
 Wives are Saints, women that wantonise,  
Witches, all poison, hell is in their eyes,  
In which, as in a wilderness of woe,  
In striving to get out, on mad men go,  
Stark mad, past sense, spite of all books & Schools  
Ruin their Fortunes; prove the slaves to Fools  
For an alluring minutes trifling joy  
Insatiate Liquorish longing, a mere toy,  
The flesh (false Traitor like) strives to betray  
The soul to Hell, as heavens just castaway.  
Fleshly delight in Man, fears want of breath  
More than his God; sin, or Eternal death.  
When just Plagues come, then sin-sicke sots can tremble,  
Make known to all the world, how they dissemble;  
Pray with the Lip, (not heart) wrist sacred Text  
To serve their own ends first; and then Gods next,  
Provide to live, in pestilent Times begin,  
Take greater care to fly from death, than sin,  
there's nothing in our Flesh but wickedness,  
〈◊〉 to live, and obscene wantonness.  
O vain desire of mortals, can there be  
In flight or Physic crew 'gainst heavens decree?  
No, no, there's no escape; no way to this:  
Man's good life only, meets with mercy's kiss.  
We forget now that dreadful dismal chance,  
The terrible Arrow of God's vengeance,  
When death buried fare more, than the earth could swallow,  
And no man to the Grave his friend durst follow.  
O why should Mortals wish long life to live?  
What comfort? what true joy does this live give?  
there's nothing, not one thought that does us good,  
But it is strangled strait, by flesh and blood.  
Holy Saint Paul, finding the fleshrebell,  
Desired to be dissolved, proud flesh to quell:  
And Sacred simeon sung 'gainst sins increase;  
Lord let thy servant now depart in peace.  
Shall such soul sweenting preparations be  
Forgotten quite; O blind security,  
What is it, we behold in this vain life?  
But daily dangers, soule-bewitching strife,  
The Flesh is full of dagger; (never quiet)  
'Mong fullfed dishes, and Luxurious diet,  
When my Soule-Erring Eyes, staring behold  
A dangerous strumpet, flame in glittering gold  
(And murdering beauty; sparkling from her Eye  
Burning temptation;) then, me thinks I spy  
My most apparent mischief, plainly see,  
How I ne'er strive to please my God, as she  
Strives to please men; such is the flaming pride  
Of the vain flesh, it hurts on every side.  
there's nothing constant in us, if to day  
Virtue we love, to morrow Vice obey.  
What a notorious Coxcomb unto sin,  
Lust makes of Man, slave to a whores soft skin.  
What's a delicious Harlot? but a cheater,  
A poisoned Marmalade Box, that rots the earer,  
A Harlot, Man most fitly may compare  
To Quicksilver; whose Mertall (like asnare)  
When ere it meets with gold, does evermore  
Mlingle itself; so commonly a whore.  
'Tis not the Man, but money she respects,  
And mingling with the one, she both infects,  
Drinks deep in Taverns, Swaggers, Swears, and raves,  
Gets gold from fools, to spend it upon knaves.  
The chief praise of a good wise does not lie  
In outward show; but inward piety:  
If Virtue rules her blood, she merits love,  
If not, I will assure thee she will prove  
Like a deceitful glass; where man may see,  
he's merely cheated in her; O misery,  
Man makes lewd women proud with looking at,  
And wondrous wanton to, believe that.  
The only cure, Lust's raging flames to quench  
Is Aqua Lachrymarum; that will stench  
The wounds proud women so delight to make  
On the poor soul of Man; make him to quake,  
Afeared to stand on that false rock of Ice  
Idleness feeder of foul carnal Vice,  
Nurse of black thoughts, south-Fogg, which rots the mind  
Leapours the soul, and is the Northern wind  
The cause of all sins storms; that dangerous flood  
Lusts surging Ocean swelling in Man's blood.  
O Devil desire of Lust, me, me forsake,  
I charge thee hence, by him that made hell quake,  
By that Almighty One, in sacred Trine,  
All holy spells, and Charms, Magic Divine;  
By that sweet Excellent Sacred Purity  
(Sister of Angels) Virgin Chastity,  
Fly from me all base thoughts, be just mine eyes,  
And be yourselves; hate wantoness Witcheries.   
Impendet periculum omnibus.   

THE JESVITE.  

NOt like that Masse-Priest, he whose mouth is crammed  
With words that speak all Protestants are damned.  
Him nor his flocke, I dare not censure so,  
Nor mean to write more than I justly know  
To be most true; in which known Path I find,  
Sergeant Catholics, so grossly blind,  
They dare outface heavens Truth, forged lies maintain  
To Cloak the cunning jesuites subtle Brain,  
He that does Theefe-like wait for virtues fall,  
Lives in perpetual watch, to blow up all.  
The Precedent, recorded stands for ever,  
In this Realm's safety; which hell's Plot can never  
Wipe from Rememb'rance; never shall the Evil  
Of that close Secretary, to the Devil,  
That jesuite Garnet, live forgot while I,  
Have Pen, or Hand, to write his Tragedy,  
(That Mine of Murder, Mischief's Master-vice,  
Lodged in the Politic skull of Avarice)  
His  Soul was such, he durst to swim,  
A Sea of Vice, be racked in every limb.  
All tortures suffer, rather than reveal  
The Treason, his Religion bids conceal.  
Witness thou Ghost of Garnet, this is true,  
He that han'gd, drawn, and quartered, had his due.  
To him was known, the powder pitchy Treason,  
Never to be forgot, he knew the season  
When, where, and how, that sudden bloody blow,  
(Black, Hell-bred, Thunder, flaming, overthrow,)  
Should have been given, knew the Times short space,  
When no soul should have time to pray for Grace,  
Or cry, God help; The Treason was so foul,  
The Traitors would have damned both body and Soul  
If in their power: and every soul i'th' Air  
Tossed up, sent unprepared of heavenly prayer,  
With all their sins; O horrid, horrid Act,  
All this the jesuite knew; concealed the fact,  
And rather than disclose, lest warning give,  
King, Prince, and Nobles, not a soul should live,  
Here was a Villain; yet I've known in Spain,  
The Traitor's death so moaned, such Credit gain,  
(Though here he died, for Treason's just complaint)  
There Monster jesuites, make a Martyred Saint.  
Mischievous Masspriests to his meriting fame,  
At the high Altar in a spacious frame,  
Advance to him, as to a Saint most blest,  
His Body-mangled Picture, thus expressed: Garnets' Picture.  
Bare Head, white Beard, Looks sober, in his Gown,  
" Him over head, Angels with Laurel Crown.  
" About his Neck, a long large Haltertide,  
" Hangs, (as befitting such) down the Left side.  
" His Belly ripped, blood seeming open straw,  
" Holding in his right hand, his pictured draw.  
" Beneath his right side, flames a Heart in fire,  
" 'Bove his left, Limbs quartered, Treason's hire,  
" Presented on a Tower; which Pictured story,  
Straw-fainted set up toth' Arch-Traitors Glory,  
Invites each eye, yea all the world to see  
jesuites, Protectors of all Villainy.  
" Poisoning of Princes, held as trifling things,  
" With them, 'tis meritorious to kill Kings.  
Can this Religion be, they think it pure,  
But man ne'er knew Religion more impure,  
Their Church, is but their Cloak, bad deeds to further,  
The only sanctuary for blood and murder.  
Plots, Practices, hellish abomination,  
Pardons for Treason, holy approbation  
Of that ill-Sainted wretch (his cursed fault)  
That Father to Faux, the Devil i'th' vault.  
Such judas-iesuites ever Traitors prove  
To King, and Prince; disloyal in their love.  
" Yet outward fawning seem on bended knee  
" Low as the earth; O true hypocrisy,  
" Under the mild aspect of Reverence,  
" In duty, and submiss obedience,  
" With Oily Eloquence, best pleasing Phrase,  
" Catching Orations, full of flattering praise,  
" When in the heart abides no spot of good,  
" All treacherous thoughts; all thirsting after blood,  
" The fall of Princes, changes, alteration,  
" The Protestant's Religion's desolation,  
" Such is the jesuites dive'lish disposition,  
" The nature of the Beast, his true condition,  
" He that can temporize, by book maintain  
" To serve his ends; and glut his Godless gain.  
" Be what he least seems, cold in devotion,  
Envious, at one another's Promotion,  
" Not lowly minded, but proud Ambitious,  
" In tongue a Saint, in heart a slave vicious.  
" Preach divine patience, when himself shall be,  
" The waspish Image of all Tyranny.  
" Splenative, choll'ricke, and who so offends,  
" Is so fare off from ever being friends,  
All-beeed he seem a Calm, yet if he live,  
he'll be revenged, be sure ne'er to forgive,  
Such is the jesuite, such his double Face,  
And such his charitable sign of Grace.  
He that dares awe his Country, King and State,  
Smile, and yet be a villain, all men hate,  
Set Princes at debate, befool the times,  
Poison the world, with irreligious Crymes,  
Swell Battles, Murders, make whole Kingdoms shake,  
Shed Innocent blood, all for Religion's sake,  
To defend Religion, what Religion's this,  
To seem devoute, and do so much amiss?  
" Colour Religion, with mere gullery,  
" Wrist sacred Text, to maintain Roguery,  
" (As if Religion were a formal Law,  
" Religion only to keep fools in awe,)  
Defend Controversies; woe to those days,  
Woe to such Serpent-snarling Church-Mens ways,  
" Sin ne'er triumphs, strikes a more fatal stroke,  
" Then when 'tis cove'rd with Religion's Cloak.  
That jesuite, he, who speaks divinely fair,  
Yet hath a wicked life; I may compare  
To fire, stand off, do not come too near it,  
You then may safely warm; need not fear it.  
But if thou unadvisedly presume,  
Approach too nigh, thee it will burn, consume,  
So the deceitful Priest, come not near him,  
Eat his acquaintance, you need not fear him.  
Fly his dissembling sight, his black life spurn,  
If lodged within your bosom, he will burn,  
With show of holiness burn and scorch,  
Waste thee, in thy Estate, like a spent Torch.  
there's not a Gentleman of means does die,  
But with his Heir, the Jesuit presently  
Shares in his land; with show of Reverence,  
(Winning of Souls) covers concupiscence.  
Commits with all he like, any Man's wife,  
Makes her believe, 'tis to preserve his life.  
Persuading Letch'rie, with their Ghostly Father,  
No sin, but a deed of charity rather.  
Sad-sicknesse to prevent, to scour the veins,  
To mundify, and for to purge the Reins.  
Ergo plena Charitatis; An Act  
Of mere Commiseration, such a Fact,  
As to deny it, (were a damned sin)  
Pulls curse on curse, which hath for ever been  
justly inflicted; punishing all those  
Repugnant Natures, with the worst of woes,  
Despair, assured confusion, dismal horror,  
Sudden destruction, Death, infernal terror,  
Hell, and the Devil; for that high offence  
Of Stubborn refusal, disobedience,  
A sin, impossible to be forgiven,  
Such is the jesuites charge; of purpose given,  
To please his Lust; makes that, a gainful trade,  
Lies with this Lady, and that Chambermaid.  
Here gives a Pardon, there denounceth Curses,  
So betwixt both, sure to pick all their Purses.  
The Nimble Slave's Church-knaverie can strip,  
And fetch your greatest Lady o'er the hip.  
With a religious show ', put tricks upon her,  
Rob the believing Fool, first of her honour,  
Then pardon Sin; and then he may enthrall,  
Rob her of Coin, Plate, jewels, Smock and all,  
Do, and undo, Her Charity's soon drawn  
For bawdy jesuites, her best Smock to pawn,  
Their thread of Doctrine'mong women spun,  
Is to whore all, be she the chastest Nun,  
If she deny to yield, Murder and Rape,  
Shall Wolfe-like seize that prey, there's no escape,  
Such is the Murdering Mind of him we call,  
Nature's Monster, Priest jesuitical.   
Noli gloriari quod lingua bene dicis, Si vita male dicis.   

THE DEVIL.  

SEarch all the Earth, you every where shall see  
Satan most busy; from the Church not free,  
The very Pulpit haunts, and being vexed,  
Seeks how to put the Preacher from his Text.  
Such as teach others, yet themselves neglect,  
And with sin's Cassock, hid their own defect;  
From Pew, to Pew, unseen; Hell's Fiend does creep,  
To dull the Hearers Ears, joggs some asleep,  
Some to vain prattle, others still to pry,  
With wanton looks, for a bewitching Eye,  
Some greedily employs, to spy out fashions,  
To glut the humours of proud women's passions,  
Makes muddy Mortals, at each other look,  
More than on Heaven, or Gods all Sacred Book.  
And such is Satan's craft, continual motion,  
To draw mankind from heaven, and all devotion.  
Tempts some to Hate, Ambition, some to slide  
The sliprie sleights of Pomp, unpaied for pride.  
Others to swim the Sea, Lust pleasing vice  
Some wet damnation, most men Avarice  
Servants to Satan; Satan which does strive,  
Man of all heavenly solace to deprive.  
God (for our sins) no sooner ang'ry grows,  
But strait the roaring, sudden Devil throws  
His Paws on us; and like himself begins  
(For numbers numberless of desperate sins)  
To seize the soul, made an eternal prey,  
To burn in Hell; as heavens just cast away:  
Such is the Fate of souls, ensnared within  
Satan's command; beware the Twig of sin,  
Lest touch will take the Prisoner; Hellish guiles  
Prove like the perilous paths of Crocodiles,  
Who with their slimy tongues (licked or'c) prepare  
To murder Mortals, by a slip'rie snare.  
Man is a Tree, whose root, is certain evil,  
Bad deeds the Body, yielding to the Devil.  
The Arms, ten proud aspiring discontents,  
Breakers of all the ten Commandments.  
The Branches are, our proneness unto ill,  
The Leaves Pleasure, the fair fruit sin, which still  
With sweetest show of sweetness tempts us on,  
To feed and follow our destruction.  
" There is fear above us, fear still beneath us,  
" Fear round about, and yet no fear within us:  
Satan like Dalilah, suffers not men  
For to see danger; is't not fitting then,  
By holy violence, we seize the sword  
Of th' Omnipotents, Omnipotent word  
To slaughter sin in us; O shall not we  
(That profess Sacred Christianity,)  
Conquer our crimes; think on the life to come,  
The rising of the dead; the Day of Doom,  
That dreadful day; let us than never wink,  
At our base follies; never forget to think:  
When this vast Orb of Earth shall blazing burne,  
And all the world in Funeral flames shall mourn,  
Then Heaven and Hell amazing must appear  
In two extremes; joy, and excessive fear.  
Heaven, in bright shining All-Eternall Light,  
Hell, in the Horror of perpetual Night.  
Heaven shall triumph, Hell, tremble, Angels sing,  
Gloria in Excelsis, to heavens high King;  
The King of Heaven; Heaven joys perfect solace,  
All-Ravishing, glit'ring glistering Palace,  
Pleasure's Paradise, immortal dwelling,  
All-pure, excellent, past thought excelling.  
heavens Pavement, are the Stars, in what excess  
Shines Heaven, when star-paved, with Stars numberless  
No thought of want, which mads the thoughts of men,  
But plenty's fullness, full abound in Heaven.  
" There, Virgin Chastity in life oppressed,  
" Glitters in Saintlike Glory, lives most blest.  
" The poor Man tossed from wrong, to injury,  
" In Heaven finds comfort, firm felicity,  
" The wronged Widow, injured fatherless,  
" Bright Heaven relieves, gives all their woes redress.  
" He, that for ill does good, Heaven will requite,  
" Crown his fair soul with comforts infinite.  
Is it not fit then, we our sins bewail?  
Think still on Heaven? on Heaven that ne'er did fail  
The penitent soul, when (alas) distressed,  
Naked, forlorn, when most of all oppressed,  
Then sends relief; miraculous reliefs,  
Such is the love of Heaven; Heaven cures all griefs,  
As for Time's Wolf-turned illaffected great-ones,  
Close-fisted to the poor, deaf to their groans,  
The Villains of this Age, that make profession,  
Of a pure life yet live by base oppression,  
Hell shall confound their souls, that Den of Horror  
(Circled with black affright, blue-burnng terror)  
Shall boil their souls, and bodies to th'black-sweat  
Of an infernal poison; and that eat  
Still to renew new pains; plagues that excel,  
Such are the neverdying pains of hell.  
There, painted Pride lives crowned in flaming fire,  
Time's glorious strumpet, whipped with burning wiere,  
Fed is the Lust-provoking Lecher there,  
With scorching coals; such as delight to swear,  
Swallow the Drunkards ever scalding oil,  
There, Vsuters, in Pools of sulphur boil,  
Murder, Rape, Incest, endless torments feel,  
The Rack of vengeance, and the burning wheel  
Whirled round in blue flames; soule-amazing fear,  
" Moore thignes than tongue can tell, the damned bear.  
In burning beds of steel, soul's blazing fry,  
Tortured with torments, such as never die;  
Cursing the Time of their abused Creation,  
Parents, Fate, sin, and their own damnation.  
Better, O better never to be borne,  
Then with such Terrour-striking torments torn.  
Which ●o 〈◊〉, weep worms of Earth, repent,  
Weep, weep for sin, soul-killing sins prevent.  
" Seek heaven, eat Hell, fly from the worlds entice,  
" heavens the reward of Virtue, Hell of Vice.  
" Perfect repentance makes men bravely die  
" That lived not so; fly than Hell's misery.  
" Repent, or damn, for sin, weep and weep well,  
" Souls that do flout at tears, shall fry in hell.  
" The Devil sets his baits in every Angle,  
" No Corner's free from him, souls to entangle.  
" Therefore in Virtue's Path, strive to excel:  
" Let firm faith still repulse the Fiend of hell.  
Divines may preach else, till their heartstrings burst,  
The height of sin will mount, live still accursed.   
Vbi peccatum, ibi Procella.   

Man's Misery.  

Man's life is like a Watch, whose Time if still  
It Minnits right, distempered by no ill,  
It is a rare Piece then; but oft we see,  
It runs too fast; in Action 'tis too free.  
Sometimes, by wilful providence set bacl,  
Sometimes, by dull neglect it goes too slack,  
Beats like a dying panting pulse so slow,  
That by and by it stands; and then we know  
'tis down, some curious wheel is much amiss,  
Or some spring broke, whereby the whole frame is  
So fare pastrectifying, that it can  
Never go right; but like disordered Man,  
misspending precious time in godless riot,  
Time bars of Heaven, Angels immortal diet.  
Youth is a hot, unbridled, wilful folly,  
Pick me out one that's Virtuous, truly holy  
In this abused life; and you shall find,  
Infinite thousands of a Vicious mind.  
Age Palsy-struck ready for deaths dark grave,  
Insensible of sin, it all would have  
That show of profit brings; though ill got gain,  
And threatening heaven in thunder speak, refrain  
Bad precepts; 'twill not do; Truth tells us still,  
Age proves Youth's scorn, through examples ill.  
Vice leads the silver years to endless blame,  
Vain unstay'd youth to beggary, and shame.  
'Tis heavens just punishment; an ill lewd life,  
In Young and old, meets with eternal strife.  
Think then on thy Creator wretched man,  
Remember what thou art, thy life a span,  
A weak thin thread, spun from the downy wool  
Of tender children, to the Aged skull.  
From youths rich Scarlet die, Beauties full force,  
To the silver Tinsel snow, of a cold Course.  
Man is an Actor, and the world the Stage,  
Where some do laugh, some weep, some sing, some rage  
All in their Parts, during the Stene of breath,  
Act follies, scourged by the Tragodian death:  
Such is the Fate of souls, ensnared within  
Satan's command; beware the twig of sin,  
Lest touch will take thee Prisoner; Hellish guiles,  
Prove like the perilous paths of Crocodiles,  
That with a slimy Tongue licked o'er prepares  
To murder Mortals; such is Satan's snare.  
O why should Mortals wish long life to live,  
What comfort? what true joy does this life give?  
there's nothing, not one thought that does us good,  
But it is strangled strait by flesh and blood.  
The longer life, the more we sin, and fall  
From bad to worse, from worse, to worst of all.  
" Life loving fortunes, how ye puff men up,  
" To hug their folly, drink damnation's Cup!  
O that men were fare wiser, would but think,  
How swelled with pride, they desperately wink  
At their own venom Vices; and yet storm  
At others faults; good heaven this sinnereturne,  
Or we shall perish; praying for our foes  
Is of small use; this causes all our woes.  
Rejoice at no man's fall (with foul aspersion)  
Although thy foe; but pray for his conversion,  
So piety wills; still imitate the best,  
Not worst of men; he that lives well, dies blest.  
Observe, what Holy Rritprompts thee to act,  
" Pray for thy foes, 'tis a most pious fact,  
If then thine enemy persist in ire,  
" Heaven on his head in flames, heaps coals of fire:  
The cause, that on our heads just vengeance draws,  
Springs from ourselves; we break Gods sacred Laws,  
Yet never mind it; complaints and daily cries  
Are much among us still, but no weteyes  
For crying sins; daggers of discontent  
Stab home, where careless people ne'er repent.  
Nothing more dangerous, nor hath ever been,  
Then to live still, i'th' Lethargy of sin,  
The clouded fight permits us not to Eye  
Our own foul faults; nor the Flint heart to spy  
It's rocky substance; many have no sense,  
No feeling of their sins large conscience,  
Remove the cause betimes; let thou, and I,  
Every one strive, offend not with thine eye.  
" Fly from the tongues abuse, thy hard hearts terror,  
" Or live sin's Slave, lost in a mist of error.    

Sin's Jnfirmitie.  

THe Sin of Man's infirmity is known  
Best by the consequence, (sad sorrow's groan.)  
It leaves behind it such a sting within  
The Soul; that miserable Man for sin  
(Snared with temptations in this world's wide Hall)  
Can never be at rest; but grieve and fall  
Out to the Death with his abhorred condition,  
The guilt of Conscience; and the base fruition  
Of his besotted sense; he takes no pleasure  
In the world's wealth; weighing Gods deep displeasure  
Still against sin; he never is at quiet,  
At Home, abroad, in bed, or at his diet.  
There is no health in's flesh, no rest in's bones,  
Sin stifles sense, all mirth converts to moans.  
Each comfort proves disconsolate within  
That soul, which really is grieved for sin.  
Deep swelling sighs, like breaking Seas discover  
Heart breaking groans; one grief upon another.  
Sin like incessant storms beats on the breast  
Of Man's afflicted soul, never at rest,  
Till he has made his peace with Heaven, by so und  
And serious humble reconcilement drowned  
In streaming tears; such tears, as best express,  
For sins infirm; a heart in bitterness.  
Learn thou this Lesson, thou whose clouded eyes,  
Hides thee from sight of thy infirmities,  
Thy Pride, oppression, lust-provoking diet,  
Nasty defilements, drunken belching riot,  
Which so besweats, sots, and bespots the soul,  
As renders it most loathsome, uggly foul  
To the Eyes of the All-pure-God; He spies  
All our base thoughts, each dark deed, all those lies  
The Devil blinds us with, to our abuse;  
Under the feigned pretence of an excuse;    

Sins Jmpudence.  

Sin that was wont in privacy to lurk,  
Not daring to be seen dark deeds to work,  
Walked still in fear; the mind was ne'er at rest,  
Like a poor Man in danger of Arrest.  
But now in Triumph like a Drab of State  
Branded with impudence; dare walk and prate,  
Do deeds of open shame; yet never blush,  
Shrink, fear, nor feel Revenge more than a rush,  
Shield us from sin, (great God) sin that at first  
Poisoned the perfect Man; made all accursed  
That glorious Image; made him see his shame,  
Poor, naked, need, and loss of his good name.  
What ever sorrows on weak man befall,  
Public, or private, sin is the cause of all.  
Sin dulls the Soul, when Heaven is out of sight,  
Mans out of Heart; all virtues lose their light,  
Like a besieged City, sin surrounds,  
The meadows of the soul, ruins her grounds,  
Winds like a subtle River 'bout the banks,  
So Eats into her sides, as drown's the Ranks  
Of Muddy-minded Mortals weak defence,  
Walls built on Wood-Piles, to ten confidence.  
O the rare Mercy of Almighty God.  
How it does daily woe us from the Rod  
Of his just vengeance; yet nor love, nor fear,  
Not any thing that's good in us appear.  
The Prodigal Gull, uncapable to know  
The worth of wealth; fare sooner will bestow  
Ten pound upon a Hawk, a Hound, a Whore,  
Rather than give ten pence, to  the poor,  
" The Worldly Churl, whose money is his slave,  
" Goes to the Church hears Sermons, seems to have  
" Divine discourse, Religion in his talk,  
" Devotion, Pity; yet in life does walk  
" A full dissembler; machivel and he,  
" Remorseless monsters, dead in Charitle.  
" Deaf to the poor man's-crie, his want of food,  
" Urge Scripture to him, that will do no good.  
" The spirits of mischief in their soul's reply,  
" They'll not be forced to secure boggery.  
Let joseph lie in Chains, and Daniel too,  
Shall they for threadbare Charity undo  
Their full crammed bags, abate the curious Pride  
Of Wife and Children; dim glorious outslide,  
High hopes; the World's applause, sinne-sick wishes,  
Banquets by Torch-lights, and blood stirring dishes,  
All, to relieve despised poverty?  
Wrong their delights, to pity penury?  
No, no; they'll not be taught where, when, and how  
To give their Alms; the Saint to whom they bow  
Learns no such lesson; he so slaves the brain  
With the black Text; that for their hell-beed gain,  
Worse than the Scythian Thief, or barbarous Turk,  
They'll cheat friend, Father; never do good work,  
Unless to trumpet forth their Alms, much good,  
When there's no Virtue in their venom blood,  
Yet to the World appear the scourge of evil,  
A very Saint in show, in heart a Devil.  
A foul dissembling Fiend incarnate,  
That seems precise, thinking the gift of prate,  
The prattling, pious seeming show forsooth  
Of a pure life, should darken sacred Truth.  
Good God, divert their eyes from Hell below  
To look on Heaven; force their blind eyes to know  
Sin for a while may with a Brazen face  
Outbrave poor Virtue, flourish for a space,  
Feed hot, and high, swim in the world's delight,  
As if Vice only, were beav'ns' Favourite,  
Befat in folly, curious scoffs, that dare  
Mock at the wrinkled looks of honest care.  
Scorn lean Ribbed Art, all griefs which interlace  
The Lines of sorrow writ in Virtue's face.  
Sin may do this; raised on the lofty stile,  
Of Pride's preferment for a little while.  
But if time lend thee years for to observe,  
You soon shall see proud sin, ready to starve,  
Blushing for shame, and halting on a crutch  
Spotted all o'er with Biles; loathsome to touch:  
" Sweet sins soon fade, vanish like lightning's flash,  
" Honours a Bubble, Riches deceitful trash  
Circled with mischiefs, glittering wantonness,  
Dull self-esecured Ease, brittle greatness:  
Which like the serpent Dipsas quentchlesse thirst,  
Lives never satisfied, until it burst.  
" Much wealth, small wit, and fare less honesty,  
" Prefers the golden Ass to dignity.  
Be wise as Cato, just as M●nlius,  
Valiant as Scipio,  as Curius;  
" Wisdom in rags is spurned at like a rush,  
" Folly gains Credit, crept but into Plush.  
Be what thou wilt, wealth forms formality,  
Though sponged with never a one good quality.  
Worldlings applaud the Rich, the poor despise,  
Speak never so well, so excellently wise,  
Best knowledge must be dumb; Wisdoms best Note,  
Yields but harsh Music in a Threadbare Coat.  
Witness Times poor Philosopher's report;  
Who being in the Presence at the Court,  
Was for his simple weeds of slight regard  
Rudely thrust out by the grim-looking Guard;  
But shifting , admitted to the Eye  
Of State, the King, before whose Majesty,  
He not the least of Reverence would bear,  
Save Cap and Knee, tothth'  himself did wear,  
Saying, I honour him that honours me,  
These my gay Clouts, which brought me King to thee.  
This to the sinful World, may Emblem out,  
Mortals vain worshipping the Golden Clout  
Of him, or her, whose souls uncertain stand  
(Fixed i'th' imperative mood of proud command)  
joys in no other Heaven, but admiration,  
Till senseless they forget their first Creation,  
Honour's vain bubble, Riches deceitful store,  
Which ne'er drops penny to the pining poor.  
Nor ever harbours thought of Charity  
To Wretches, wi●●●t starved with poverty.  
While on the adverse part; (Virtue denied)  
Vice still is hugged; the world's in love with pride.  
O stony hearted sin; on thee to think  
Fear turns my Paper black; makes pale my Ink.  
Amazeth sense, compels my palsy Pen,  
Trembling to write the Impiousness of Men,  
Whose hate to pity, must to terror turn,  
Where tears for sin are wanting, sin shall burn.  
Tell me ye Toad-swolne flinty Pharaohs, tell?  
Can temporal joys, equal though pains of Hell:  
Treasures, and pleasures, those quick fading streams,  
To the poor sleeping soul, are all but dreams.  
The body's beauty, momentary joy,  
Which waking finds, Earth's glory but a toy:  
This for a Maximetake, shun times lewd life,  
Cease from extremes in sin, soule-murth'ring strife,  
Abhor to Study state with greater zeal  
Than zeal to Heaven or the soul's Commonweal,  
Abhor with solemn Oaths perjured to ●●are  
And rack the name of Christ, dreadless of fear,  
Wounding a fresh (with trembling fear I writ)  
Wonder of Angels, that great God of light,  
His wounds with Oaths of wounds, flesh, blood and heart  
(Horror of darkness) O blaspheming heart,  
Too too much used, 'mong godless souls, which still  
Infinite good pay, with infinite ill.    

The Penitent Sinner.  

LEt others boast their goodness, for my part,  
Wretch that I am, I have a sinful heart,  
So tied and bound, fettered and chained within,  
So strong a prison, such a Maze of sin,  
That 'tis as fare unlikely for me worm  
Ere to wind out, as for to raise a storm,  
Or slack a Tempest; works of wonder stand,  
Fare from thereach of mortals weak command.  
None but the hand of God, his special grace,  
Can pull me forth the dungeon of disgrace.  
And shall I then, in impious ways uneven,  
Offend so good a God; defend me Heaven!  
Ride thou my soul upon some winged cloud  
To'th'Haven of heaven; fly to the sacred shroud  
Of sempeternall safety, fly the sight  
Of blazing beauty; flaring Earth's delight,  
Malicious minds, mischievous man's invention,  
Fair looks, false hearts, stamped in a soul intention.  
Take flight my Soul; fly from the dismal Den  
Of this dark Age; the impiousness of men,  
Fly from the ponderous plummets of black Vice  
Which pulls to Hell; help Prince of Paradise.  
I saint, I die, sin loads my soul with horror,  
The World, the flesh and Devil, all with terror  
Hangs on my fettered limbs, Prisoner to care  
I live starved, tortured, tempted to despair.  
What shall I do, where, whither shall I fly?  
Here, there, I know not where, lie down and die.  
Up soul to Heaven, there get a glorious Crown:  
I am too weak, too vile, sin pulls me down.  
O my unworthiness, my shame, my sin,  
When shall I shake thee off? when when begin?  
No?  not be? can I not do the good  
I would? must I be ruled by flesh and blood?  
Weep, weep poor soul, dissolve hard heart of flint,  
Melt, melt thou stony Rock, tears never stint,  
Drop Marble mount, drop to a Crimson flood,  
Sink my sins, in seas of penitent blood.  
While others careless of celestial health,  
Greedy like Hell, hunger for worldly wealth,  
Preferment, pride, and vainly put their trust  
In the forbidden Paths of tempting lust,  
In glassy glory, subtle Court behaviour  
In valour, conquest and monarchal favour;  
Whiles souls thus err, O thou the Lord of light,  
Make me Heaven's Champion, virtue's favourite.  
Come folded Arms, and you sad eyes, sad heart,  
Come soul oppressed with sorrow, play thy part.  
Haste to some gloomy Grave, there all alone  
On the green mantled earth sigh, sob and groan,  
Spend precious time with sacted thoughts that be●●es  
Heaven in their eyes, true verier in their ●eares.  
Complain I will to Fortune, not that who●●  
Which makes 〈◊〉 Art and pale faced Wisdom poo●●.  
I'll not complain to her, but to that Ens,  
Almighty Fortune in divinest sense.  
Grovelling on Earth for sin, I'll cast forth groans,  
Sighs shall convert to Tears, tears into moans,  
Then will I start from ground, my body raise,  
Shoot in eyes upward, against heaven I'll gaze,  
Think on my God, my God whose sacred will  
I have abused; my God most just to kill,  
Damn soul and body; my rememb rance blot  
Out of the book of life; I that forgot  
In midst of all vain joys, in temperate health,  
Soule-snaring Chamb'rings, lascivious stealth,  
Allseeing Heaven, a God so great, so good,  
The death of jesus Christ, my saviours blood,  
Slave that I am, where shall I turn mine eye  
Unworthy to look up? Heaven hear my cry!  
Hear me Eternal Essente, which hath made  
My soul to pray; send me thy sacred aid.  
" On the bright Sunbeams of thy sweet salvation,  
" 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 draw up, the dew of my devotion.  
Mount soul upon the wings of Charity,  
Help Heaven, up heart, fly to Eternity.  
Rouse like a towering Falkon in despite  
Of Hell and furies, fly to the Maker's sight,  
Come, come Lord jesus, O come thou and give  
Help to my helplessesoule; I that do live  
Like the distressed bird, trapped in a snare  
Caught by a lime-twigg flying through the Air;  
In which distress for comforts sweet relief,  
Poor Innocent, with wings adds woe to grief,  
So fares my soul striving sins snare to fly,  
Trapped by deceit, lives snared in misery.  
My trembling conscience tells me I have been  
A very fearful finner, slave to fin,  
Of all Men, most unworthy of Salvation  
My sins deserve Heavn'ns' wrath, hell and damnation,  
Yet mercy, mercy Lord, mercy I crave,  
Shield my sad soul from the infernal grave,  
" Strangle my growing sins in their beginning,  
" Demollish (Lord) in me custom in sinning.  
" Draw from mine eyes the vain world's vain entice,  
" And ravish me with love of Paradise.  
" Busy my thoughts with virtue, make me try  
" To live by honest means, or let me die.  
Pardon all idle prate, sin's rotten talk  
Let not my steps tread that accursed walk  
Which leads to lewdness; base delights in pleasure,  
Desire of Pomp, vain glory, tottering treasure,  
Let not my wand'ring eyes flame in the fire  
Of lust-stung looks, nor let the lose desire  
Of Beauty's Bravery, burn out mine eyes  
With senseless gazing; Lord make me to despise  
All wanton ways, fins of ill governed youth,  
All wicked customs 'gainst thy sacred Truth.  
Make me (my God) in hate to impure lives,  
Kick at that life, which life of heaven deprives:  
Deal not, Lord deal not with me as my merit  
Truly deserves; drive out that uggly spirit  
Of all uncleanness from my filthy flesh,  
My drooping soul with sanctity refresh,  
Shroud me beneath thy sacred Countenance,  
Give me thy servant David's repentance,  
The Faith of Abraham, holy jacob's strife,  
Blest Stephen's Charity, chaste josephs' life,  
The Patience of job; Paul's purity,  
And soul-afflicted Peter's weeping Eye.  
" With holy Tears, (Lord) make me to reject  
" The Sin, I impious sinner most affect.  
O thou the King of those Eternal fires  
That spangles Heaven; good God grant my desires,  
Infuse in me thy Grace, or I shall stray,  
And so become a fearful Castaway.  
I, that am poor, weak, feeble, and too apt,  
By the world's whorish wales to be entrapped,  
Beseech thy pardon, forgive my coldness  
In serving thee, pardon that damned boldness.  
Let Mercy every Evening which does keep  
Me, from day-dangers, death-resembling sleep,  
Be to my soul a Prayer book to imprint  
Tears in mine Eyes; grief in my heart of flint;  
Be it so Mighty Maker unto me,  
To me and every one, make us to see  
And shun sins custom; with thy sacred wings,  
Guard us from dangers, blessed King of Kings,  
Thou art my only comfort in distress,  
Food, raiment, all my cure in heaviness,  
My true Physician, in unruly madness,  
Soul-ravishing Music in my deepest sadness,  
When all the world forsakes me God is kind,  
He comfort gives to my disconsolate mind.  
O thou the Lord of Thunder, Heaven and Earth,  
Merciful maker, thou that didst give me breath.  
Thou that canst muster Angels in the Sky,  
To safeguard souls from black impiety,  
Thou that dost feed, and cloth, and still persever  
To give me health; be merciful for ever.  
" Lord teach me for to prise the world at naught,  
" Upon thy blessedness be all my thought.  
" Take from mine eyes, the vain world's vain entice  
" And rayishme with love of Paradise.  
" Bless me each Morn, and bless me every Even,  
" Bless Wife and Children, bring us all to Heaven  
In thy good time; and during life's short space,  
Grant us Lord jesus thy abundant grace.  
Graft thy Grace inardly in our hearts, that we  
Never like straying sheep, stray Lord from thee.  
Hear me Miraculous Majesty, and give  
A period to my cares, let me not live  
Frustrate of Honest means; O send redress,  
Employ my Pen, keep me from Idleness,  
From all ill Company, all ways unjust,  
Sin, Satan, and the Labyrinth of lust.  
Like joseph, Mighty Maker, make me fly  
The tempting Bats of Beauty's bravery.  
Suffer me Worm unworthy, not in vain  
To call on thee; let me some solace gain  
Or kneel for ever; happy man were I  
To kneel, and pray, and at my Prayers die.  
To live for ever; ever more to sing  
Glory to thee O God; Heavens glorious King.  
O you, that stand on Pinnacles of state,  
Let not the World deceive you, lest too late,  
From off your slippery height you come in thrall,  
To pash yourselves in pecces past recall!  
Sell not fair Lordships to keep Ladyships,  
Nor suck damnation from a Strumpet's lips,  
Touch not those spells of Sparta, let 'em rot,  
When Virtue lives in man, lust is forgot,  
One only gem, that's all the store I have,  
Great of that little, nothing, which shall crave  
Of heavens great Ens, not for myself alone,  
But for thee Reader; thee, and every one  
Rareness of rare example, and withal  
An everlasting sky of Grace to fall  
Upon our War on Earth, desiring Heaven,  
For ways on Earth are crooked, all unev'n.  
O Heavenly Father, glorious Deity,  
Pardon, O Pardon my impiety,  
I, that have imperfections on my head,  
Past Stars in number; or those sands that spread  
The Vast Seas bottom; shall not I confess,  
How oft 'gainst God, I desperately transgress,  
Put off Repentance still from day to day,  
Abuse his mighty Patience, still delay  
His dread Command; and like a senseless sot,  
Unmindful of his mercies; mind them not,  
No sooner do I find a good thought take me;  
But from that virtue flesh and blood do shake me.  
Forgive me, O forgive me thou that art  
heavens universal searcher, cure my heart,  
At my dull follies I'll no longer wink,  
Sorrow shall be my Pen, sad tears my Ink,  
Misery my Paper, whereon I'll write  
The sorrows of my soul, my youth's delight,  
My paths of pleasure, Prodigal expenses,  
My Scarlet Crimes, and all my black offences:  
This Book, I'll dedicate unto my heart,  
My heart, chief Actor, in sins Tragic part.  
My heart, unprincely, Revelling within  
My body, that Banqueting house of sin;  
There, Chained to ' th' Magic Music of free will,  
Riots in poisoned pleasure, lewdly ill.  
All that belongs to th'body, every part,  
(My soul alone excepted) serves my heart,  
Best pleased; and best at ease, with pleasure's bane,  
Most glad, to be most bad; and in that vain  
Traitor to Truth; each limb a Mortal foe,  
To work my universal overthrow.  
O false, false heart, false to thy dearest friend,  
Wound me no more; for pittle make an end,  
I pity thy black life; nor can forbear,  
For thee, to shed many a bleeding tear.  
Thou art my foe: and yet to see thee feed,  
Fat for Hell's Shambles, my poor soul dosbleed;  
Bleeds inward, indiscerned of any eye,  
Except my God, and my own misery.  
What shall I do? feign would I shun the sin  
My frailty most delights to wander in:  
And yet I cannot; when I strive 'gainst vice  
To stand most firm, I'm tripped up in a trice.  
" O What a mis'ry 'tis to have a mind  
" For to be truly honest; well inclined,  
" And not to be suffered; such is the state,  
" Of my sad bleeding soul unfortunate.  
" Field honour's but a Vapour; the sound breast,  
" Puts on Church-Armour Faith, and sleights the rest.  
" In Love to Virtue and true godly fear,  
" Dwells Honour; not in Dart, Bow, Sling or Spear,  
Not in vain Beauty, strength, the pride of Wit,  
Presuming Riches, Learning, Valour, Credit,  
High Birth, Nobility, nor gravity,  
Humanity, nor yet Virginity,  
But in the humblesoule whom holy story,  
Speaks to maintain God, and the Gospel's glory;  
The King and Kingdom's safety; Churches peace,  
The Virgin's right, Widows and fatherless;  
These are the noble steps that ever wait,  
On Virtue's Court; 'tis the true Prop of state,  
Save me, O save me thou Eternal terror,  
To damned souls, I do confess each error,  
The many thousand sins, unseen, unfelt,  
Which long, too long, in my hard heart have dwelled,  
To thee, to thee thou everlasting being,  
Of an Eternal Majesty; all seeing,  
With Penitent heart, I come, I call, I cry,  
Pity me wretch, help thou all viewing eye.  
My arms are spread, come sempeternall Essence,  
Ravish my soul; come blessed Penitence  
Give me thousand stabbs, my soul has need,  
Of many thousand tears; then let it bleed!  
Pierce, pierce my stubborn heart, make that the Inn  
Of Grace, which yet, is but the house of sin;  
Look down soul saving sacred God of Truth,  
Forgive th'infinite follies of my youth,  
Shield me Divinity from Satan's begins,  
Lord lay not to my charge my Parents sins:  
Glory of goodness in thy mercy, hear me,  
Let hate, Revenge, nor Envy ne'er come near me,  
Let neither Pride, nor hope of gain deceive me,  
Nor pleasure, nor the want of means bereave me  
Of sense; lest senseless wholly I despair  
And so become the wretched child of Care.  
O sacred saviour; give me grace to fly  
Delight in sin; I beg it earnestly,  
In all my prayers enable me to be  
(Blessed Lord jesus) pleasting unto thee.  
Make me to do thy will Lord; make me grow  
Great in thy love, thou that dost truly know,  
Of all Earth's blessings unto mortals given,  
My sole desire on Earth, is Grace from Heaven,  
Grace to be good; grace to avoid hells begins,  
And grace to grieve, for nothing but my sins,  
So shall thy mercy, ne'er forgetful stand,  
While I have Tongue, a Pen, a head, a hand.    

The Souls Sea fight,  

Emperor of Angels; O thou King of Stars,  
Man's perfect solace 'gainst sins bloody wars,  
When I behold with contemplations Eye  
The silver spangles of the glorious sky;  
Me thinks in that Blew-paper-booke of Heay a  
I see the ways of Mortals all Vnev'n,  
The wretched soul of Man in every place,  
Lives Locally in hell, Wanting thy grace,  
Temptation on temptation past control,  
allures the body to betray the soul;  
Hell's Black-prince Troops of spiries every day,  
Invades Man's Sinne-seidg-Soule, Furies display  
Infernal Banners, while the Drum of death  
Beats a dead March, and e'er I can take breath.  
Sounds shrill Alarms, hot assaults begin  
The souls fierce fight; muffled in cloudy sin,  
I live beset; Millions of spirits round  
Shoot at my soul 〈◊〉 stand on no firm ground  
But tread on Earth, as on a Ball of ice.  
I cannot stand, nor stir for sliprie vice.  
My Soul's a ship tossed on the mountain seas,  
Of this vast world; she never lives at ease,  
Her Sails are sighs, her Anchor deep despair,  
Her Compass error, her sad Pilot care.  
Fare off from safeties shore, floats on the waves  
Of fearful billows, Soule-devouting graves,  
Rough, blustering stubborn storms, yield no relief  
On every , each Tackling hangs a grief,  
Death like a dark cloud, besets every place,  
Here Rocks of ruin, there Pirates lie in chase,  
In every corner mischiefs hour'ly lurk,  
Pride fights against us like a furious Turk.  
Lust like a Treacherous Spaniard, murdering French,  
Like an infected poisons loathsome stench,  
Gluttony like a German; drunkenness  
Like a Dutch-dun-ker-ker; whose impiousness  
Styles him the Master Gunner to give fire  
To all Sin's black Artillery, hell's Ire,  
Infernal Chaine-short, All Soul murdering strife,  
To snke man's weatherbeaten ship of life.  
Which to gain grace; no sooner weighs Anchor,  
Sets fail for safety, but strait Sin's canker  
The devouring Devil, Pirate for Hell,  
Chase flies after; and with black Arts spell  
Commands to stay; sometimes with beautions forms,  
With songs of Sirens sometimes; sometimes storms,  
Such pitchy Tempests, to benight the way,  
As if the horror of the Latter day;  
Frighted the world, so stops the soul from bliss,  
Shoots through and through her; so she steers amiss.  
Then as in bloody Sea-fights men may see,  
Time's sacrifice to valour, no man free  
From desperate danger; every one maintains  
The terror of the fight (though with their brains  
" Dashed in each others face) vital breath  
" Lost in a Fight flame; blood and death  
" Ballets, and Batteries, covers the ship all ore  
" Her dismal Decks with horror, purple gore,  
And scattered limbs; O the sad shriek the cries,  
Here sinks a Ship, and there another fries  
In fiery flames; some to scape present harm  
Mount the Main-top, some hang on the Yard-Arme,  
Till the pitched Mast becomes a blazing Torch,  
Whose up flying flame, when it begins to scorch,  
Down, down the poor Souls drop, who (life to save)  
Unwilling, willingly make the Sea their Grave,  
The deeps their Tombs; so the soul's Pinnace  
In her spiritual fight, sin does deface,  
Murders our best of thoughts; like raging seas,  
Winds, Storms, & Tempests, drive us where they please  
The poor afflicted soul, Satan so blinds  
It knows not where she is; by whizing winds  
Now-tost, tothth' top, of all the Azure sky,  
Now tumbling as to Hell with frighted Buy,  
Her Flag of sin's desiance Tempests rend,  
Her sails torn all to rags; her main mast spent  
All out of order, tossing too, and fro,  
The soul distressed, knows not not which way to go.  
With gentle calm; check Satan's black storm Lord,  
We shipwreck else; Devils will come aboard  
Burn with hell's Wildfire; flame, ruin, raze,  
Blot our soul's hope, help minister of grace.  
Safeties in Heaven; in this uncertain life,  
Nothing but Hellbred Quicksands, war and strife,  
Soul killing vapours, worldly vanites,  
Thick clouds of Vice perpetual miseries!  
There is a Voyage to the holy land,  
In which the Truth our blessed Card must stand  
The Holy Ghost our Pilot to Direct  
The Steerage of our Course from sins neglect  
To th' Haven of Heaven; that happy Port of rest  
Salvation's guard, true Cape of comfort blest,  
There heavens bright Majesty our Saviour sweet,  
Sits with the hand of mercy for to greet  
And waft us to him; O may all that stray  
Sailing along the Coast of sorrow pray,  
Pray unto him; he'll guide their wandering Bark  
Tempest-tost hontely in the dreadful dark.  
If thou be Sea-sick, call upon him, and he  
Shall soon, with healths sweet solace comfort thee,  
Rebuke the raging winds, Time's blackest storms,  
And to a Calm, skie-swelling seas reform.  
No Rocks, Gulfs, Sands, nor seas-cloud-kissing waves  
Sins dreadful Sea-fights, nor the desperate braves  
Of Pirates, none shall hurt; let then thy care  
See thy weak Vessel rigged, well Manned with prayer,  
And then Launch forth, hoist sails, and when you spy  
The Cape of good hope, keep it in thine eye.  
Let Holy thoughts deatht-breatning stormers o'ercome,  
That whatsoever chance there shall become,  
The vessel of thy body, being foul,  
Make sure to save the Passenger thy soul.  
He valiant, only virtuous is that can  
Subdue his sins, He's the true Noble man.  
there's perfect valour, he true glory wins,  
he's the true soldier that subdues his sins,  
Breaks through the Pikes of sin, all Fiends that are  
In Hell, or devils ruling in the air,  
Forcing his way to Heaven despite all charms,  
Enchantments, dead sleeps, all soul-slaying harms,  
Wrestling like jacob constant in his sight,  
Mindful of his Majesticke-makers' sight,  
To such, belongs the Everlasting Crown  
Of Sempeternall glory, true renown.  
Which to prepare thee for; cease to neglect  
Th' Almighty's sacred service, let respect,  
Fear and true reverence to his precious word,  
Be to thy Soul Truth's Helmet, shield and sword,  
Fit to subdue the Fiend, all fiery Darts,  
Furies and fiends, Heaven arm thy noble parts,  
Soul, Body, Heart, and all strive to fulfil  
(The Majesty of Heaven) his divine will.  
And like the cunning curious Architect,  
Earnest some goodly building to erect,  
(Breaking his steep) wholly employs his mind  
On the drawn model, which when he does find  
Exact; his eye dwells ever then upon it,  
And his affection never driven from it.  
So when to thought we call our Saviour's blood,  
(That sempeternall Platform of all good)  
Shed for our sins; let it for ever dwell  
In the Idea of our minds, so Hell  
Stern Death, nor deadly  discontent,  
Can bar the heavenly heart from's true content!  
" Gods Vengeance against sin, his true dislike  
Me thinks should move us to repent, and strike  
A terror to our souls, force us to see  
Man's outward danger, inward misery.  
Which like an unresisted roaring Tide  
Runs through our veins, apts the base blood to pride  
To all the sins that are, or ever were,  
O horrid ill, have we not cause to fear,  
To quake, and tremble, when our dull dead eyes  
(Drunk with the poisoned dregs of sin) ne'er spies  
The mischievous perils, and the black affright;  
That hourly wait on the spiritual fight;  
Fiends live at Sea, and Furies on the land,  
Gluttony for a Corporal does stand;  
Avarice a Pioneer, Sloth you'll spy,  
An idle Gentleman of a Company,  
Wraths the Sergeant, Envy the Colours gain,  
Lust the Lieutenant is; Pride the Captain.  
These in the hearts of every one takes place,  
Where Cowardly Souls shuns the blessed means of grace.  
Let us for ever then, desist from evil,  
Wisdom commands us to defy the Devil.  
To combat with our sins oppose temptation,  
Fight against Hell, the Devil and damnation.  
This for a Caveat take, strive to live well,  
Ingratitude to God, finds flames in Hell.  
While grace is offered then, watch, fast, and pray,  
there's no prevention in the latter day.  
None lives secure, that to his Vice lives friend,  
A Vicious life, oft makes a Vicious end.  
Strengthen me my Creator, make me fight,  
Thy holy battle, let not the world's delight  
Dissuade my soul; sweet jesus for thy merit  
Enable me, rouse my dejected spirit,  
Uncharm Hell's charm; O sacred God untie  
My fettered soul; let me not ever lie  
Lulled in the lazy lan of deadly sin,  
This Minute Sacred Saviour, now beginue  
To give release; and as thou didst provide,  
Army of Angels for Eliahs' guide,  
Who (to secure him girt with Enemies)  
Mounted his soul from worldly vanities,  
So Heavenly Daystar, blessed Jesus end  
This my design; thy holy Angel send  
To be my guide, my guard, my sacred spell  
'Gainst all Enchantments, Witchcraft, Death and Hell.  
So shall my Anthem every Morning be,  
Glory of Heaven pity, O pity me.  
Pity me Wretch, most wretched, vilely base  
Wanting thy sacred aid, spiritual grace.  
The only Cure sins raging flames to quench,  
Is Aqua Lacrymarum; that will stench  
The wounds proud pampered Dames delight to make  
On the poor soul of man, make him to quake;  
Afeard to stand on that false Rock of Ice  
Idleness, feeder of foul Carnal Vice.  
Black errors cloud, South Fog which rots the mind,  
Leapours the soul, and is that Northern wind  
The cause of all sins storms, 'tis danger's flood,  
Sinnes-surging Ocean, swelling in man's blood.  
O Soul alluring sin, me, me forsake,  
I charge thee hence, by him that made Hell quake,  
By that Almighty One, in sacred Trine,  
All holy spells and charms Magic divine,  
Sister of Angels Virgin's Chastity,  
By that Soul saving sacred purity,  
Fly from me all base thoughts; be just mine eyes,  
And be yourselves, hate wantoness witcheries.  
The blessing of th' Almighty, Lord of Host,  
The Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost  
Preserve, be with me, now and for ever when,  
My soul is most distressed Amen, Amen.    

The Virgin's Honour.  

I, As a Child, that of itself can do  
Nothing, to shield Virginity from woe,  
Prostrate on bended Knees with tears I fall  
Before thee Lord; O hear, on thee I call.  
Pity me wretch, I that am in the prime  
Heat of my youth; and the most dang'rons time  
Of all my life; beseech thy heavenly aid,  
All holy helps; Lord pity me weak Maid.  
Lest like the filly fly about the Flame,  
I scorch to Cinders; burn out my good name.  
Quench, quench the flames of all lewd carnal Motions,  
Inordinate desires, all lose affections.  
Never let my soul be led away good Lord  
By Wanton Company, that no good afford.  
Waking or sleeping; O thou King of Kings,  
Let the safe pearefull shadow of thy wings  
Be my Eternal safety, lest the mines  
Of Golden Snares, altar my chaste designs.  
By day and night, Lord let thy gracious beams,  
Disperse all wand'ring thoughts, all idle dreams!  
My Chastity, is a more precious jewel  
Than I can keep; let me not then be cruel  
To my own soul; but, by the more that I,  
In the great danger of Temptation lie,  
So much the greater, let thy grace preserve  
My Virgin Honour; and though I deserve  
Thy Vengeance, indignation, and no favour,  
Yet for thy Mercies sake, most sacred Saviour,  
Be thou my Advocate; Lord make me free,  
To sue in ferma pauperis under thee.  
Angelize thou my soul, to shun the Tract  
Of obscene speech; lewd thought, and unclean act.  
To thee for ever make me reconciled,  
In Body, and Soul, chaste, holy, undefiled.  
And through the operation of thy grace,  
To spit defiance in sins uggly face.  
" Pleasures are poisons to this soul of mine,  
" there's no true joy on Earth, but what's divine.  
What shall I do? help Prince of Paradise,  
I cannot stand, nor stir for slip'ry Vice.  
Quicken me Lord, enable me to pray:  
Humble my Mind, my Parents to obey  
In all their just commands; and at all times,  
Patiented to bear reproofs, confess my crimes.  
ne'er let me (Lord) be so deprived of grace,  
To scoff (like some) their Parents to their face.  
Make me in stead of stubborn ways to grieve 'em,  
(At their most need) still able to relieve 'em.  
Increase good Heaven, the number of their days;  
To speak thy glory, and to sing thy praise.  
And if thy will e'er call me to the state  
Of honourable wedlock; let my Mate  
Be such a one (good God) with whom I may  
Serve thee in peace; and never go astray.  
ne'er let contention, nursed 'twixt Man and Wife,  
Disturb the Quiet of my married life.  
Married or Single, let me ever be,  
Fitted with Prudence, pleasing unto thee.  
Make me to shun (great God) sins dangerous shelf,  
That I, apoore Tree, barren in myself  
May Bud; and bear such fruits of Faith as may,  
My soul emparadice at the Judgement day.    

The Single and married Life.  

SOme say, the single life, is single care,  
Yet sin still Slaves it under Satan's snare,  
Soule-burning Beauties-brav'ry, witching folly,  
Which mads th'intemperate Brain breeds melancholy,  
Delight in dangrous Dice, Drabs, drink, and Riot,  
Sin Theife-like robs, the single life of quiet  
Hinders the happy Soul from being wed '  
To Virtues fair, , Honest, Humble bed.  
O what a sacred sweetness had it been,  
Had our first Parent's purity shunned sin.  
Marriage, that Rich immaculate Robe of honour,  
Hadne're been tempted then to base dishonour;  
Lust, that does hour'ly slave the single life,  
And shuns the sweets of Wedlock, through base strife.  
Had ne'er been thought on then; all had gone well,  
Souls ne'er had cause to fear sin, death nor hell.  
Marriage was made for Man, ('tis a true Text)  
For honour, not dishonour, to be vexed  
With deadly strife; adulterate fornication,  
Unruly Lust, sinne-causing-separation  
(Hell to the Bed that's chaste) turning the ease  
Of wholesome Marriage, into a disease.  
Wedlock's great weighty work, craves sound advice,  
Begged at the hands of Heaven; lest cheating Vice,  
Puts tricks on fair believing honesty,  
To cloak Biggebellies prurient renery.  
Marriage requires a solemn Meditation,  
Trembling resolve, no sudden affectation  
Unasked of Heavn'n; the married life must be,  
Unforced, Religious, faithful, chaste and free,  
Else like Jehorams Match 'twill prove a curse,  
Bade the beginning, but the end fare worse.  
Learn wisdom by this Truth, be zealous,  
Use holy jobs preservative; be Jealous,  
Thou that art Married over all thy ways,  
Beauty's allurement nature's ill spent days,  
Thy trouble about wealth, griefs long and large,  
Care still to get, children's continual charge,  
Losses by Servants, sin's infirmity  
Unquietness of Neighbours; all do cry,  
And cry allow; the married life to be,  
Man's ent'rance into sad calamity.  
The Married life, I fitly may compare  
To Heaven or Hell, unto the Earth, or Air,  
'Tis Heaven where harmless Turtle Mates agree,  
But Dismal Hell where Couples faithless be,  
Sweet like the dainty wholesome Air to sense,  
Where Man and Wife content, shun rude offence.  
But where deep discord rules, and proud disdain,  
There, like the gaping Tongue-tied Earth for Rain  
(Sunburnt with sordid Actions, deeds unjust)  
They parch to Cinders, fall away to dust:  
'tis sins just payment, whose reward is death,  
The misery of life, and scourge of breath.  
" Wisdom directs the married life to be,  
" The peaceful Emblem of true Unity.  
" Heaven gives a blessing; makes that love divine  
" Where Man and Wife content, draw in a Line:  
" A Wife, obeying of her Husbands will,  
" Has the rule over him, deserves no ill!  
Love, is a worthy Wife, Times precious woman,  
Lust a perfidious Harlot, true to no man.  
" There is no joy on Earth that can transcend,  
" A Husband and a Wife, kind to the end.  
" The careful Husband's honest gains no doubt,  
" Makes the Goodwife, an honest layer out.  
" A Virtuous Wife (free from all lewd expense)  
" Is the Husband's joy, his Tower of defence;  
" Thus speaks the Text, discretion in a Wife  
" Makes fat the Husband's bones, delights his life.    

Tears Triumph.  

what's Honour, Beauty, and the damask skin,  
But Dirty dross, balanced with tears for sin,  
One trickling tear for sin, gains greater pleasure,  
Then a whole Ocean of terrestrial treasure.  
" Many can weep, to counterfeits 'tis given,  
" But to weep truly, is the gift of Heaven.  
Mirror of Truth, give me the sacred Rays  
Of divine knowledge, so to spend my days  
In sighs, tears, prayers, that my poor soul may,  
Mount to thy glory, at my latter day.  
" Happy the man, whose tears adorn the place  
" Where he does pray, that's the true sign of grace.  
" Tears joined with Prayers, are triumphant Twins,  
" Soft wax, hot Iron, to disburden sins.  
" Mingle thy Prayers with tears; tears souls refresh,  
" Kills all the wanton Motions of the flesh,  
" Tears humble Pride, makes chaste insatiate lust,  
" Malice to Mercy turns, turns time unjust  
" Detracting Envy into Noble pity,  
" Dull Drunkards to be temperate; heavenly wit●y,  
" Converts base Avarice from the abuse,  
" Of godless gain, to charitable use,  
" Tears, Physics Gluttony to live content  
" With mean course far; makes mortals penitent.  
" Tears lengthens years; to Man's last day tears give,  
" Sufficient means conentedly to live,  
God that beheld King Hezekiah's tears,  
Prolonged his days; added full fifteen years.  
Peter, that thrice denied his sacred Lord,  
Tears gained his pardon without speaking word:  
" O blessed Tears; tears that for sin arise,  
" Are glorious Pearls i'th' Petitidaers' eyes.  
Weep for thy sins poor soul; 'tis heavens advire,  
Tears Orient E●arles purchase Paradise.  
Shall such Soule-pleading Pearls than I pray  
Be fling to Swine? 'mong swine be cast away?  
Resolve me thou whose conscience never felt  
A tear for sin; O let thy soul but melt  
To penitent Pearls; then, then let it tell  
The infinite difference, 'twixt Heaven and Hel.  
With, and without those ravishing tears; the one  
Feels joy, free pardon; but the other none!  
Unpitied plagnes attend the scornful eye  
ne'er wet for sin; that's endless misery.  
When on the adverse part, where souls bewail  
Their wretched frailty, God does never fail  
To send relief; frees them from all annoy,  
" Who sows in tears shall reap eternal joy.  
Tears wins the soul to God; (raises it up  
From Earth to Heaven) drinks deep of mercy's Cup,  
Applies health's Plaster to the firm sick pulse,  
" Tears with God, never suffered a repulse,  
We never weep, never devoutly cry,  
ne'er drop a tear for fin, but God stands by.  
Puts all our Tears into his Bottle; look  
What says the Psalmist? are they not in thy book?  
Thou tell'st my wanderings (Lord) put thou my tears  
Into thy bottle; frustrate sinful fears.  
" Tears trembles Hell, pacifies Mortal strife,  
" Blotts all our sins out of the book of life,  
I'll ' cry, says David, to the King of Kings,  
Prevailing tears with God, perform all things,  
God of the Spirits of all Flesh that can,  
Rectify souls; look on me wretched man,  
As Holy Paul ne'er ceased for three years,  
Night and day constantly to warn with tears  
The Elders of Miletum, (them to free  
From Satan's subtle tempt) so leeme,  
Night and day (Lord) forever, never cease  
With tears, to warn, my warring flesh to peace.  
" True tears win Heaven, all impious thoughts control  
" Tears subdue Sins; make white the spotted soul,  
" Perfumes the Body, mortifies lewd sense,  
" Calmes stormy cares, and prove the quintessence  
" To all our quiet; no anguish, no contention  
" Troubles true tears; want is ne'er thought upon  
" Nor the world's wide woe; where a blessed tear  
" Is shed for sin, it frights away all fear,  
" Gently alleys Earth's tempest's that arise  
" Through times deceitful riches; beauties Eyes.   
Lachryma nunquam patitur repulsam.   

Mercies Miracle.  
CHRIST'S Setting forth from's Celestial PALACE, Lodged in the Virgin's Womb; From that blessed PLACE, To th' Manger went; from Marger to the Cross, From Cross departed (with his dear Blood's loss) Unto the SEIULCHER; there made all even, And so returned, Gloriously Home to HEAVEN. To HEAVEN, from whence LORD let thy SACRED FIRE, GLISTER upon my SOUL, whose sole Desire Begs MERCY for my Sins, makes known to THEE, THOU that hast RAVISHED ALL, hast Ravished Me.  

Wonder, of Angels, O thou Flaming Glory,  
Great Mercies Miracle, thy Sacred story  
Shows thy ne'r-failing Love; it is thy love.  
(Thou Lamb of God, celestial Turtle-Dove,)  
Thy over liberal love that does restrain  
Sodoms just Plague, which thou mightst justly rain  
In blue flames, storms of fire to consume,  
Burn up this sinful world, and scorch the plume  
Of mortals Pride; souls wilfully misled,  
Pampered with Chin-deep Lust, fullness of bread.  
" Man is to Man a Monster-hearted stone,  
" With God thet's mercy, but with Man there's none.  
God is the world's miraculous Creater  
Holy, just, merciful, Man's glorious Maker.  
God into hell, for Pride, the Devils hurled,  
God's justice drowned, God's mercy saved the world,  
God is all Eye, he brings to open light,  
The darkest deeds and secrets of the night,  
Man's bell-bread plots against the Innocent,  
God still contrives toth' Author's punishment.  
God is all goodness, Greatness, dear delight,  
His anger short, his mercy infinite.  
Read th' Everlasting Bible, there you'll find  
His all abundant Excellence inclined  
To chide, then smile, long suffering, but sure,  
First he begins to strike, and then to cure,  
Drowns the rudd world for impious sin; and then  
(Never to execute the like again)  
The Rainbow sends, as a most sacred sign  
Of his ne'er failing mercy, love divine!  
O Mercy, thy rich thought appears to me,  
Time's golden spur, to quicken and make free  
Dull stupid spirits from their jade-like pace,  
Swiftly to run Virtues celestial race:  
Haste soul to heaven, and think when thou dost faint,  
A stately Pace too solemn for a Saint.  
Plough through the dusty ways, the dirt and mire  
Of foulest sins, temptations fiercest fire  
For Mercies sake; Mercy makes blest the brain,  
Curbs sin's delight with contemplations Rhine.  
Mercies sweet thought, stands the souls sacred spell,  
'Gainst all the Thorry Passages of hell.  
Adam at first, the second put to death,  
The second dying, gave us all new birth.  
The Tree of good and bad, and Apple gay,  
Brought to the world, to cast us all away.  
Yet the sad Tree of shame bare fruit to save,  
All that believed from the infernal grave.  
And as our Parents first notorious Vice,  
Whipped them from out the joys of Paradise,  
So from man's crooked sinful ways unev'n  
Christ entertains us, readily to heaven.  
Think what a ravishing Act of love was there  
Figured tothth' life; think think, O Blessed, Dear,  
Soule-saving Saviour, sacred Purity,  
Ravish my soul to tell thy Charity,  
Thou sempeternall ravishing Rose-bud,  
Who for our sinner was six times died in blood,  
Text in such Tragic letters as did show  
Men turned to Monsters; the great debt we own  
To his victorious sufferings, that is  
Mirror of Majesty, man's only bliss.  
Did the forgetful wretch consider when  
Hell hastes him on, to some hot sin, and then  
Finds no way left to his desire free,  
But by a narrow lane where he must see,  
That never enough to be lamented loss,  
Christ jesus Tenterd on the bloody Cross,  
God on the Rack for our spiritual food  
His limbs all o'er, a Charactor of blood,  
All wounded, and now bleeding, crying out,  
O thou that bear'st ', the Christian stamp about  
Thy flesh and blood; behold my blood brain,  
Was ever grief like mine? sick soul refrain,  
Read in my wounded side thy back return,  
Thy sordid sin's repulse; let thy soul mourn  
In showers of sorrow; and to hell's disgrace,  
Read sins dislike in my storm beaten fate.  
Vnbosome Vice; taste from thy soul sins evil,  
And with my Scriptum est, silence the devil.  
Can careless Christians bear the thought of this  
Mercies Memento, in their minds amiss?  
No sure; no hellish heart so prone to sin,  
But the rich thought of such rare love must win  
Man's soul to God; and with right admiration,  
(Fixed sirme and often on our Saviour's passion)  
Force him to hate the sin he liked so well,  
And with a loathing kick, send it to hell.  
mercy's rememb'rance like a Curious Lute,  
Renders most excellent Masicke, heavenly fruit,  
Points out the weary soul the way to Grace;  
And spurs us on to the Celestial race.  
Invites the penitent mind o'er clogged with care,  
To Heavenly ecstasy spiritual fare.  
Merciful God, turn thou man's vain desire  
To fear and trembling; let a zealous fire  
Flame in the souls of men, let each proud eye,  
Humbled with tears, admire thy Majesty,  
Backward, and forward look, calling to mind,  
Those multitudes of Mercies mortally find,  
Day, N●ght, Time, Tide, miraculously given,  
By thy All-sacred hand, Great God of heaven.  
As the young Bird then, that does never cease,  
Opening the Mouth, until the Dam release  
And cures the want it suffers; so should we  
With unlocked lips, still pray, that God would free  
Our souls from sin, O 'tis a blessed task,  
God ne'er leaves giving, till we leave to ask.   
Dei misericordia, plenitudo est virtutum.   

FAITH.  
Nailed to the Cross, there Christ, lost souls to win, Suffered the world's huge ponderous weight of sin, Insulting Foes reproach, mocks, scoffings, scorn, His sinews to be Racked, his Body torn; A kiss betrayed him, and a perjured lie, Was the reward for all his Purity. heavens wrath, Hell's rage, on Christ all torments fell, To save our Souls, from those blue flames in Hell. Christ's whole life was a Martyrdom & Cross, Active and Passive, and his dear Blood's loss, The Tragic part; the bloody Scene which none But He himself must Act, and act alone: Christ's Patience, Death And Devil's force did quell, He took the great Leviathan of hell With the Hook of his Cross, made him his slave, Captived the DEVIL, and subdued the Grave.  

FAith makes unseen things seen, Faith's sacred eye  
Vn-visore Pride's painted hypocrisy,  
A resolute Faith forced Abram to consent  
To butcher his beloved; to content  
His Mighty Maker: Faith has ever been,  
The perfect Evidence, of things unseen.  
Jacob by Faith obtained his full desire,  
Faith stopped the Lion's Mouths; Faith quenches fire,  
Enoch by Faith from sense of vital breath,  
Translated was, that he should ne'er see death.  
Faith made Eliah to call down from heaven  
Consuming flames, to burn accursed men!  
Israel's great Captain by his Faith did part  
Egypt's Red-Sea, went through with joyful heart.  
josua by Faith, on Gibeon did command  
The golden Taper of the Sun to stand  
Still; while he fought the Battle of the Lord,  
Faith comes by hearing the Allmighties word.  
Women received their dead raised up to life,  
Faith conquered Kingomes, and subdues all strife.  
Like a safe wind, which to the Seaman sings,  
Comfort in midst of all sad cares, Faith bringt,  
And breathes into our souls, Truth's gentle gaile  
(Salvations sweet relief,) to fill the sail  
Of Man's storme-beaten vessel; keeps it even,  
So sends it home in peace to th' land of heaven.  
Faith  the Soul in a divine attire,  
To pass untouched, through Famine, sword, and fire,  
His body feels no pain by fire, or sword,  
Whose Faith, is in the bosom of the Lord.  
Faith is Saint Peter walking on the water,  
Hope lent him help, and Love was his supporter.   
Fides, Signum Christianorum.   

HOPE.  
Hope follows Faith; when Man is most oppressed, Ready for hell, Hope to the Soul gives rest. Hope in the Lord, be strong the Psalmist saith, Hope strengthens, comforts and confirms thy faith. Hope is Faith's daughter, heavens holy Handmaid still, To overrule unruly  will From doing damned violence, which may, beget the souls Eternal castaway. In midst of hellish crosses, storms & strife, Hope must our Pilot be to a good life Our Anchor, Cable: give it then free scope, The sweets of Grace, are relished by hope: O my dull spirit, rouse thee, fit not still pondering on thy poor Means, though it be ill, be thankful; thank thy God, and be not hurled To damned despair, by th'malice of the world. Good luck may go away, but good hope yet, Will never leave us, if we leave not it.  

ARe we so blind, so sotted by the Devil  
To receive good at God's hands; and not evil  
With equal thanks? have we for sin deserved  
Lest good, no? rather worthy to be starved.  
Want threats revenge; men's states must needs decline,  
When men against the will of heaven repine.  
Hope clears Night-stormes, calms the tempestuous day '  
Afflicted, or not afflicted, let us pray,  
Despair not, nor repine; let Virtue's scope  
In midst of sorrows, perch thy soul on Hope.  
Dare Man despair to live the life of Cain  
And die the death of judas; merit pain,  
The Damned feel in hell? good heaven defend  
Disquieted souls from such a dreadful end.  
We all are saved by Hope; if in true sense  
We hope for heavens Eternal Excellence:  
Hope's like the Fisher-man's Cork, despair the lead,  
Whose ponderous weight no sooner being spread,  
But it begins to sink; so man in sin,  
Did not hope lift him up still by the Chin.  
Yet neither Faith, nor Hope can enesubfist,  
Wanting sweet Charity; she is the list  
That comprehends, and is the life of grace,  
Love pittles still the poor, seeks the Lord's Face,   
Spes mea Christo.   

CHARITY.  
Charity and Pride, both feed the poor, in the Den. Charity to praise God, Pride to get praise of men: True Charity in midst of dangers wins Safety: she covers multitudes of sins. Love is the Chain of Grace, love without spot, which ties all Virtues, in Love's true-love knot, Three thousand Souls, the heavenly weeper gained constant till death, by Charity obtained: Not words, but good works, must man's Faith approve, Charity, ever is the life of love, Patience Housekeeper, rich & bountiful, No Grimfaced grumbling giver slothful: Deal liberally thine Alms, cheerful Aimes-giving, increase men's states, decreases no man's living.  

TRue Love ne'er Envies this, nor that Man's good,  
The low descent, nor High-born Noble blood,  
ne'er makes hot boast of giving, never brags,  
Nor seeks revenge by Hell-affected Rags,  
Surpassing this, or that proud neighbour's state,  
(Causes of mischief, malice, and much hate,)  
But is all excellent sweetness, noble pity.  
Fair Honour's soul, clothed in humility!  
What Eye on Earth sheds for his sin a tear?  
What Ear delights heavens Holy Word to hear?  
What Tongue triumphs to speak in Almighti's praise?  
What Heart affected stands to holy ways?  
Were't not for Charity; she is the Queen,  
In whom all Graces of the soul are seen!  
Prophecies shall fail, Tongues cease, & knowledge vanish  
But Charity never; she from souls can banish  
Lust, Averices and Pride, with all the Rabble  
Of sins, which make Men truly miserable!  
" O, when we want the gift of Charity  
" We all are subject to impletie.  
" The Devil lays his stumbling blocks within  
" Our ways of wickedness, our days of sin,  
" Lures us to strumpets, such as Samson tried,  
" To mighty Nabuchadnezers swollen pride,  
" Like Acban, and G●bezi, daily He,  
" Tempe's Man, to covetous Idolatry;  
Snares souls to Envy like accursed Cain,  
To Herod's Self-love, Nabals churlishvaine  
Sin heaped on sin, all those black souls to stifle,  
That think Adultery sweet, true love a trifle,  
If rich, Heaven wills us from our plenteons' store,  
To yield Truths cheerful succour to the poor,  
And that by sundry Statutes God commands,  
Upon the forfeiture of life and Lands,  
Confirming still, the poor man to have part  
In the Rich man's Estate; if any heart  
Dares doubt this Truth; the Scripture must deny,  
" None but an ATheist wrongs that piety!  
What a large extre●me folly 'tis to see  
Man (like the Wolf for prey) how earnestly,  
He hunts for means; as if the only honey,  
Of soul and body did consist in monle,  
Meat, drink, and ; Men sick, still pray for health,  
Ready to be undone, for paltry wealth,  
Freedom and safety, and with shameless faces,  
Forget to beg of God spiritual Graces.  
Many men, pray but he the glory wins,  
That prays to be disburdened of his sins,  
And views the poor Man's labour with the eye.  
Of sweetreliefe; there's noble charity!  
The heart of such a man may sometimes shrink  
Under temptations weight, but never finke.  
" God makes man here Lord steward of that store  
" He deals so cheerfully among the poor,  
" Gives him the Grace to think, when to his fight  
Apoore wretch comes to beg of him a mite,  
He might have been that beggar, his estate  
Transferred on him, and begging at his gate,  
Or in the street in Rags, oppressed with grief  
Glad to beseech him for some poor relief:  
Wealth's the world's Witch, desired of most, all know it,  
Yet I have read, wise Codrus a poor Poet,  
And his Wife Procula, they knew it was  
Fare greater happiness, their days to passo  
After long life unto aquiet end,  
Then change their poorness, proudly to ascend  
King Ninus Throne; be wondered at and seen  
T'out shine Semiramis; wealths wicked Queen.  
Thus Heathens learn us Christians what to do,  
Greedy desire of wealth, works endless woe!  
As wise Ulysses served his Siren Witches,  
Passe-by the world's pelf; seek celestial Riches,  
" Be rich or poor, unless a beast thou be,  
" Seek Heavenly wealth, or ne'er look heaven to see.  
Man backward goes, takes all the care he can,  
Not to be godly first, but a rich man,  
Takes care for health, long life, Physics the blood  
But last of all, least care, to become good.  
Clean opposite to the fair rule of Truth,  
Truth instructs crooked Age, and stiffnecked youth.  
First to seek Godliness, Riches and health  
Will follow next; godliness is great wealth.  
What though the world frown, must we strait repine,  
Has not Heaven sent us reason to desine  
Twixt good and evil? aught not thou and I,  
Every one strive to live contentedly  
With our estates? certain it should be so,  
Did not sin blind us, did we but truly know,  
That which the world so scoffs at, Poverty  
God only sends to try our honesty,  
Or dishonesty; poverty is sent  
" For Virtue's trial; Vices punishment:  
He that in peace enjoys the quiet calms  
Of flourishing plenty; yet gives no Alms,  
But like insatiate Hell greedy of more,  
Belies his wealthy state to rob the poor  
Of their just Interest; disabling himself  
(Base miser like) to save his dirty pelf,  
Such falsehood, cries for flaming vengeance still  
To persecute a Wretch so vile, so ill.  
'Tis not the Rich, not Poor can plead excuse,  
Where want of Charity speaks Man's abuse.  
Dost thou want ●●●es to give, Truth is thy friend,  
Truth at all times instructs thee to extend  
‛ Thy Alms in liberal manner; not to pine  
In parting with thy pence, for love divine.  
Admit thou art unable to disburse  
Lest pecce of Coin, yet let thy emptypurse,  
Be full expressed in a Compassionate groan,  
A sigh, a prayer for him that makes his moan,  
And in the Holy Name of the most High,  
Beggs some relief to secure penury.  
God ever stands, more on the giver's mind,  
Then the gift given; if God but truly find  
A cup of water, (in his sacred name)  
Given to the poor, God gratifies the same.  
" The Widow's Mite, one Farthing pleased more  
" The Lord of Heaven, than all the Rich Man's store,  
" There is no Virtue Constant without love,  
" Nor no love perfect but from heavens above.  
Witness Truths sacred Text; heavens love to Man  
Amply expressed in the poor Publican.  
His humble Eyes, sighs, cries, and bruised breast,  
Forced open the Gates of Mercy, gave him rest.  
With Spittle, Clay, lest word that did proceed  
From Mercies never failing Master freed  
The Blind, the Lame, the Sick, the Dead from grave,  
heavens All-Commanding, Maker all can save;  
O let us then in holy love betake us  
To Christian Charity; Now good God make us  
Graciously willing, for thy own sweet sake  
(That suffered on the Cross; made hell to quake)  
Fashion our wills to thine; Lord, make us know  
It is our sins, our sins makes God our Foe.   
Vbi Charitas non est Caritas.   

VERTVES' PYRAMID.  
Blessed Blest, O Blessed, Be that Divinity, Three Sacred Persons GOD in Unity, WHOSE glorious Ravishing Resurrection, Restored us (lost) to Grace, Oh PERFCTION! Purify thou my Soul, my Heart, my Mind: Snatch me from Earth, to Heaven make me inclined, Wholly to Thee, (All worldly Pomp despising) Fix my THOUGHTS ever, On thy Blessed RISING: Give ME A Sempeternall Reverence, To Thy All-glorious high Omnipotence. I that am clogged with sin, and wretchedness, ( thoughts hunting after Worldliness;) Thy blessed Protection crave, clear the great score, Of all my foul misdeeds, that I no more so great a sinner prove; Lord let my strife, Against my sins, Raise me from Death to life. And from the Foot of uggly sin's disgrace, Mount, mount, my SOUL, to th'Pyramid of GRACE..   

Chastity and Lust.  

LEwd speech strikes blushes in a Virgin's face,  
Chastity is ever the Zeal of grace,  
staff of Devotion, Enemy to Lust,  
In death true comfort; the Mark of the Just.  
Sister of Angels, and the Virgin Tie  
Which cleaves to God, gains sweet Eternity.  
When Lust with all her paint, Curls, purls, & pride  
(Swelling in pomp) is but a nasty Hid  
A most infectious foe; foe to the Purse,  
Foe to the Person, and which makes it worse,  
The Conscience corrosive, confounding wit,  
The mind's Canker, soul's burning Fever fit.  
'Mong all enticemcuts, pleasures quassing Bowl,  
All the sharp combats of a Christian soul,  
None fiercer than the wars of a  mind;  
there's a continual Fight; which good Men find  
Never subdued without wet eyes, true care,  
In praying; Why? the victory is rare.  
Chastities still, in danger 'mong delights,  
As Truth in much talk; Soldiers in fierce sights.  
The walls of Chastity once battered down,  
Maids lose their Honour, Virtue's rich renown.  
O Lust, what's thy delight? thy full fruition  
Of Pleasure; but the Path way to Perdiiton,  
Seandall, dishonour, foul reproach and shame,  
Will blast thy being, blot out thy good name.  
" O happy is that Man, happy the Maid  
" That's ; clear consciences are ne'er afraid  
Of judgement, Death, and hell; no sad affright,  
Tortures the mind that's chaste; there's true delight.  
Witness the twofold fear that does belong  
To Chastity and Lust; fear to do wrong  
And grieve her Husband, is the chaste wife's part,  
She fears her slack of Love; lest he depart,  
Gives no cross words, no angry looks nor sour,  
Nor does she seem to lump, to powte, to lower.  
She fears t'offend her husband, shuns all strife  
Togaine his Presence; which she loves 'bove life.  
But the lewd Harlot, when her Mates from home,  
Fear makes her wish, that he might never come.  
Lest his approach unlooked for terrify,  
And catch her in her base Adultery.  
she's filled with fear, doubts, starts least creek o'th' door,  
O 'tis a dreadful sin to be a Whore.  
Beauty in the Face, and Lust within the heart  
Kills Soul and Body, ruins every part:  
Strike me Eternal Essence with the dart  
Of Saintlike Chastity; give me a heart  
Of flesh; so chastely pleasing, that poor I  
May live in Chastity; a chaste soul die.    

Midnights-Meditation.  

When I contemplate Heaven, and take no care  
For worldly vanities; then my soul how fare,  
How amorously fair thou art; destroying sins,  
" Man's a rich Monarch; then true joy begins,  
Never till then; never did any fight  
'Gainst sin, but gained unspeakable delight.  
This, when I think upon, and practise too,  
heavens in my eye, want nor the worst of woe  
Distracts my senses; but when I root my mind  
On this rude world, Virtue is soon strooke blind,  
Wit, reason, all my senses are confounded,  
Devil's assault my flesh, my soul is wounded.  
Save me, O save me Lord, thy worthless Creature;  
Pity the weakness of my Mortal nature,  
Forgive all forfeitures my sins have made,  
Vows, Promises, protestations never paid.  
I promised still to mend, to turn mine eyes▪  
From sinful wales; yet Heaven knows all were lies.  
Shame to my soul; how dare I then look up,  
Expect least solace from sweet Mercies Cup?  
O I am angry, vexed to th' very heart,  
I act not thy will Lord, but mine own part.  
A sinful Tragic Part which will deface  
My soul; help Heaven; send thy restraining Grace,  
One Drop of Grace Celestial can refresh  
A fainting soul; cleanse Lord my corrupt flesh,  
Vn-storme sins sulphurous storm; I burn I fry,  
Like the impatient Fish, which violently  
(Scorched to the quick) its raging heat to tame,  
Leaps from the Pan, into the burning flame.  
Such is the flaming Torture I endure,  
Scorched for my sins; where shall I fly for cure.  
" Want is a Mis'rie, much Wealth a trouble,  
" Honour a burden; Beauty but a bubble.  
" Pleasure a shadow, advancement dangerous▪  
" Friendship a false Wind, and disgrace odious.  
This world of sin circle's my brain with snares;  
A thousand distractions, Millions of cares,  
Beats on the Anvil of my poor weak head,  
(To ruin sense) to strike all good thoughts dead;  
Oft musing on the World's Witch-pleasing pelf,  
I thus begin to argue with myself,  
Why might not I be Rich? rush, God does see,  
This mean estate of mine fit for me.  
Then I collect my Spirits, praise that God  
Which keeps me still unscourged; restrains the Rod  
Of his just Vengeance, that might justly fall  
On me, and mine; in justice ruin all:  
" Had I the World's possession in my hand,  
All Potentates on Earth at my command,  
What then? I then; subject to all entices,  
Might fill my little-world, with World of Vices.  
It is enough I live, and 'tis too much  
That I am fed, or clothed, if I grudge.  
My days of sin increase, wax worse and worse,  
Whither? O whither shall I direct my course?  
Down, down foul flesh, (great God) myself I blame,  
I ask thy pardon, ask in his name  
That is my Life, the Light, the Way, the Word,  
Mercy and Truth; fair Truth which does afford  
Mercy to all; only prescribes this task,  
That whatsoever Mortal souls do ask  
The Father in his Name it shall be done,  
To glorify the Father, in the Son.  
O infinite sweetness; O Immortal love,  
Thou God the Father, that dost rule above  
The Highest heavens; Thee in the blessed Name  
Of Jesus Christ, (Theanthropos) that came  
To save believing souls, I ask, implore,  
Pardon, O pardon; out with sins rotten core  
Rooted too near my heart; whisper thy fear  
Into my soul; let me not only hear  
Thy sacred word, but (in the practice part)  
Make perfect use of it; ne'er let me start  
From thee my God; let sad Tears from mine eyes,  
And sighs from my heart express my grievancies.  
Though I fall foul and fearfully each day,  
Lord let me not fall finally away.  
And I if needs must fall, let my fall be,  
From death to life, from sin to sanctity.   
Amor Dei, amorem Deo parit.   

The Divine Dream.  

Worm that I am; O how shall I begin  
To praise that God, that in my sleep 'gainst sin  
Gave divine warning; sent truths sacred scroll  
Which to and fro, houring i'th' Air, did role  
This way, and that; at last, as if heavens will  
Had so decreed; the waving scroll stood still,  
(Much like the golden Taper of the Sun  
At the command of Man; the son Nun)  
In which me thouht I read, and read it over,  
Peccair no majs; that is, sinne no more  
Written in Spanish; this seeming sight so strange,  
Worked in my dreaming spirit such a change  
That startling from my drowsy sleep I cried  
To heaven; thus instantly with Tears replied  
O sacred Saviour, humbly I implore,  
Give me the spirit of Grace to sin no more.  
For I am blind; sin clouds my sense of seeing  
Thy good, my ill; I'm Nature's brittle being,  
Vexed to the soul; so infinitely oppressed  
With sighs and groans, they cannot be expressed.  
What shall I do? great Nature's miracle,  
Thou only wise God, heavens firm Oracle,  
Fashion me to thy will; tip out with the core  
Of sin in me; that I may sinne no more.  
Say to my soul, lest I in soul despair,  
" Thy grace sufficient is; Cure Lord my care.  
" Speak but the word (at the Centurion said)  
" Thy servant shall he healed; Lord be my aid.  
" No Rod so sharp, nor no disease so sore,  
" But thy good Grace can cure, to sin no more.  
Thou Lord by holy Text confirmed dost say,  
I am the Lord that heals; I Ropeca:  
" Thou God the true Physician art that can,  
" Be mine, Lord be so; pity me weak man.  
God my Physician, and his Grace the Physic  
I must not, will not, cannot be sin-sicke.   
Nomo loeditur nisi a seipso.   

THE DIVINE ECHO, BETWEEN THE GOOD ANGEL, Man in despair, And the DEVIL.  Man. 
DEath to my Soul, how long must I in vain  
heavens comfort crave? yet endlessely remain.  
Fettered in sin? break Heart, give death free scope  
And must I then despair? is there no hope?  Angel 
Hope.  Man. 
What Soul affected spirit to mine Ear  
Echoes some sweet relief? can hope come near  
Sin's shackled Slave from whom all Verues gone?  
What's to be Hoped for? when all hopes are done?  Angel. 
Pardon.  Man. 
How; Pardon, can Pardon raise a wretch  
Times reprobate like me? I that can fetch  
Nor sigh, nor tear, sin's fury to abate,  
Can Heaven free such a Soul? so desolate?  Devil. 
Too late.  Man. 
Too late indeed; my Sins sick stony heart,  
Traitor to Truth; Acts the Tragedian's Part  
Of ill so well; I know not what to do,  
Frights, terrors, broken sleeps, all speak my woe,  
Yet Holy Writ tells me, 'tis better ever,  
Late to repent, then to repent me never.  Devil. 
Never.  Man. 
O my horror (never) thou deadly accent,  
Art thou from Heaven or Hell's cursed dungeon sent  
Must my despairing thoughts for ever bend  
To Hellish Actions? shall I ne'er amend?  Angel. 
Amend.  Man. 
Amend I cannot, gifts of Grace I lack  
Like him that wears heavens Livery on's back  
Hells favour in his bosom; wretched I  
Will Fate afford no present remedy!  Devil. 
Die.  Man. 
My soul must then miscarry and be damb'c.  Devil. 
Be damned.  Man. 
Is that the only solace, all the pity  
Stern Fate affords poor Man in misery?  Devil. 
I.  Man. 
Was my Creation in the Womb of woe  
Ordained for Hell? no otherwise then so  Devil. 
So.  Man. 
Die than I must; and will, appoint me where.  Devil. 
Here.  Man. 
So quick: O true Physician, for to die  
I hold it best; and to link suddenly.  
Here in this Desert then, where no eye sees,  
Express the means to die among these Trees.  Devil. 
These Trees.  Man. 
If 'mong these Trees appoint to me an Altar?  Devil. 
An Halter.  Man. 
To be hanged is base, better to drown myself,  Devil. 
Do, drown thyself.  Man. 
No no, I will not die so like a Rat,  
A Cicken, or a Mouse, a Dog, a Cat,  
But like the  Statesman I will be  
Made nothing by a Dram; poison to me  
Is precious balm; I will die by poison.  Devil 
I, poison.  Man. 
'Tis the true death, best Cure 'gainst discontent  
The Nobleman's consumption; my intent  
Hugs the conceit; And yet my soul to slay  
By touch or taste, is no true Roman way  
Canst thou not change thy word?  Devil. 
Thy sword.  Man. 
Shall my Sword then set free from all the strife  
Of Worldly woes? this mockery of life:  
Can my sword soon quit me from out this strait?  Devil. 
Strait.  Man. 
I tifle time; come forth thou main sole good,  
Thou cure to all my cares; sweet sword in blood  
I'll drown thy friendly Blade; 'tis the best Part  
Thou ere canst Act, to cleave thy Master's heart.  
Fly soul to Air, Flame, Dust, I know not where,  
Earth, serve thou me for Coffin and for Beer,  Angel. 
Forbear.  Man. 
Who bids forbear? what Potent power commands  
My soul to live? my sword and trembling hand  
To stop their bloody course? is it in Fate  
To alter Man's intent before too late,  
Turning swift mischief to that sudden stay  
Whom death but even now would make her Prey?  Angel. 
Pray.  Man. 
Pray, unto whom? my soul is in a mist,  
See see, me thinks the Everlasting Fist  
Of Heaven is stretched, waving the Crown of grace  
Over my Cursed head, Soul, sinful Face,  
Aim accursed; I do deserve the Rod  
Of Vengeance, rather than to pray to God  
For the least drop of Mercy: No I must  
Not dare to pray to him, for he is just.  Angel. 
Just.  Man. 
And by his justice, my impiety  
Merits Eternal endless misery,  
Sin's just reward; O teach me yet the way  
Thou Divine Echo; to what place to pray,  
From whence implored mercy may be given,  
To clear my sins great score, and make all even.  Angel. 
Heaven.  Man. 
What words will best he fit, and not betray me,  Angel. 
Aye-mee.  Man. 
Despair detains me bacl, commands me say  
I have no Will; no Mind, no heart to pray  
What shall I do? my soul is in a Fever  
And in that word despair I shall end ever.  Angel 
Endeavour.  Man. 
O sacred sweetness, true Celestial wit,  
Thou sum of sweetness stamped in sacred writ,  
Endeavour, yes, sin's strife is the best play,  
My soul can Act; God give, heaven I obey.  Angel. 
Obey.  
Cum humi limus, cur non humilimus.   

Death's Masqueing Night.  

AS mighty Kings in glorious Masques delight,  
Death, (Times Grand-Masquer) had his masqueing Night.  
In every Palace, every Nook Death ranges  
Death takes his root from sin, he's full of changes.  
With solemn Pace unseen, Death does advance  
His Sable shaft, to lead the World a dance.  
Through Courts, though Armies, the world's wide Hall,  
Controlled of none, Death is the end of all.  
where's then the Mighty Monarch? where's the glory  
Of all his Court? State, Masques, joys tradsitory?  
Beauty's bright Earth-Bred-Star? whose sparkling eye  
Shoots quivers of Love-shafts at Rich Majesty.  
Death shall deface, and in the bed of night,  
Yield fare more cause of terror, than delight.  
where's then the, wanton glance that seemed to skip  
From this Great Lord? to that Great Lady's Lap?  
The nimble, Sprightly, capering, Courtier then  
Forgotten lies; there is no dancing when  
Devouring Death, stabs with his sable shaft,  
Vain is the power of Art; all mundane craft.  
The deep Physician's skill, flattering discourse  
Of health; Death soon, turns to a dismal course.  
where's then? the mighty Madams fl●reing Pride?  
Oils, Powders, Paintings? all are laid aside.  
Gold glittering Glory, Cloth of Silver silk,  
Forgetful Feasts, their sinful Baths of Milk  
(When many a poor soul starves, wanting the food)  
Of their supurfluous outside) pampered blood  
Gurles, Purls, Purfumes, Court compliments, visits,  
Hot-stirring Dishes, soul bewitching Minute's,  
All Pomp on Earth, ambitious mad desires,  
Revels and Lust-burnt Midnight's unchaste fires.  
All are hushed then; Beggars and Kings, all must,  
Take a poor lodging in a bed of dust.  
Death is a dreadful Antimasque, 'twill fright  
The world's Grand S in his full delight!  
Figures and Footings, practised to entrance  
Spectators Eyes, Deaths interposing Dance,  
Dissolves to darkness, in a moment's space  
Ruins proud Pomp; makes pale th'aluing Face  
Sparkling in Beanty; deads' the hot desire  
Of Naked Breasts; Death tames Lust's raging fire,  
Wounds without dread or dalliance; Death will strike,  
Sovereign's and subjects, all are to him alike.  
To Rich and Poor those that do ill, or well,  
Death is the Path, either to Heaven, or Hell.  
Death's dread appearance evermore makes glad  
The good; but proves a terror to the bad.  
Disjoynts the ablest limbs; Death trembles Pride,  
Extincts State-Glories will not be denied  
Death is an Archer, Man the Mark to shoot at  
Fly where thou wilt, East, West, this way, or that,  
Death follows like a shadow, shoot he will,  
Draws sure and home; Death never fails to kill  
And yet, none truly minds it; though we know  
Time shall decay, we cannot feed nor go  
Nor promise life a Minute, men pass to bed,  
But ignorant are to rise, alive or dead.  
Death by a thousand accidents does meet  
Health, Wealth, and Beauty, stabs 'em in the street.  
He that least dreams of death, some falling Tile  
Timber, or Stone, doth suddenly beguile  
Him of his life, yea oft, when Man refrains  
And seeks to shun it, dashes out his brains,  
This learns us Mortals, during vital breath,  
With humble soul to meditate on Death.  
The thought of Death aright, prevents the evil  
Of Hell's Night Thief, & the world's Noonday Devil  
Death's deep remembr'ance rightly understood  
Strikes dead delights, lures the lewd mind to good.  
Wafts the sin weary soul to think upon  
Her ill past life, present affliction.  
O sinne-sicke-sinfull Man, fear to do ill  
Tremble proud Heart, cross not thy Maker's will,  
Think on thy end; think on the Day of Doom,  
The pains of Hell; Deaths-Masqueing Night will come  
Not in the Pomp of Princely merriment,  
But the dread fall of souls impenitent,  
Ingrateful Souls to God; souls that dare sit  
I'th' scorners seat trusting to wicked wit  
More than their Maker's wisdom; their conceit  
Aims not at Heaven, but to be worldly great.  
Pride is their zeal, they Prayers forgetfulness,  
Charity Contempt, their Viutue wantonness,  
Plump high fed Pampered Flesh on whom must wait  
Page, Pander, Parasite, preparation, state,  
Gold glittering glory, cost, curious diet,  
Insatiate pleasure, and vainglorious Riot.  
These are the sins that merit endless shame,  
Hells ever burning, never dying flame.  
Which to prevent, (Great God) let hate to vice  
Dissolve sins Cloud, Becho to Paradise.  
Our Saviour's sweetness, let us never more,  
Lie down to our dishonour like a whore.  
Dead to good Counsel; never let dark deeds  
Defile the soul; let's root up all the seeds  
Of Pride, Lust, Envy, Hatred, and in place,  
Plant Wisdom, meek Humility and Grace,  
Abhor to study State with greater zeal  
Than zeal to Heaven, or the soules-common-weale.  
True Penitence gains Heaven, throws sinners down,  
To raise them up, to an Immortal Crown.   
Cogita de fine infinito, ut vives in infinitum.  
FINIS.