THE Map of Misery, AND THE Sinners Plea.  
By G. T.  Lament. Ier. cap. 1. ver. 12. 
Intuemini, & videte, an sit dolour, par dolore meo.  
LONDON Printed for R. HARPER, 1650.   

To his good Friends.  
MAny years are now past, since I first Groaned under the heavy burden of my strong Afflictions; and although the World, that are ignorant of me, may censure hard of the cause from the Sad effect; yet you that have known me, can better vindicate me in your favourable Opinions. To You therefore I rather appeal then to them, and to your view present this Map of my Misery; wherein you may see both what I was, and what I am. Read, and judge; and as your favourable Interpretation shall invite you, continue him still in the list of your Love, that lives,  
Your faithful, though unhappy Servant, GILES TOOKER.   


1  
AWake thou heaviest Muse that ever sung,  
A note of Woe in Elegiake strain,  
Sadder than Those whose harps on willows hung,  
Or His whose Eyes for Sin gushed out amain:  
Sound to the world thy Tunes of sad Despair;  
Tunes all composed of Sorrow, Grief, and Care.   

2  
In this Sad night, begin thy woeful work,  
Now all the face of heaven is hung with Black:  
Now every star behind a Cloud doth lurk,  
And I alone a peaceful Rest do lack:  
Now all are hushed, but such, whose grief like mine,  
Keep waking with the noise of Care and Sin.   

3  
This Care, and grief and Sin so heavy lie  
Upon my soul, that I can hardly speak  
To thee, (my God) to whom I fain would cry:  
And if I cry not then my Heart must break:  
But ver●● broken Heart thou'lt not despise,  
My God: break then poor Heart, cry Tongue, weep Eyes.   

4  
●…me, Thou Searcher of each secret thought,  
●●use in me thy all-effecting Grace;  
So shall my work to good effect be brought,  
While I call back my ugly Sins a space,  
Wherewith my Soul's so stained, as nothing may,  
But Blood and Water wash Her spots away.   

5  
O that the learned Poets of the time,  
(That in a Love-sick line so well indite)  
Would not consume Good Wit in wanton rhyme;  
But on some better Subject fall, and write:  
For if their music please in Earthly things:  
How would it sound, if strained in Heavenly strings!   

6  
But Worldly things do best please Worldy men,  
That ne'er could sing the songs of zions hill,  
Nor David's Heart to frame nor David's Pen  
To Write have they, nor have they David's will:  
Those that do dote on Earth's possession,  
Think Heaven a Dream, & but discourse for fashion.   

7  
Such is the nature of our foolish kind,  
When practised Sin hath taken up the Heart:  
The way to penance due, is hard to find:  
For Sinners love not to endure the Smart.  
Their saviour's Yoke's too hard; His burden great  
They think; his food too course for them to eat.   

8  
O enter not my soul into their way!  
Return, return, for thou hast dwelled too long  
In the dark Night of Sin, and now the Day,  
And Light appear: Oh couldst thou sing the Song  
Of Joy! after thy Griefs have broke thy Heart:  
Too largely then rewarded were thy Smart.   

9  
Come find the way, with Sorrow-rented Heart:  
With swollen Eyes and Hands upreard to Heaven,  
To act the grieved Mary's sadder Part,  
That would Weep streams of Blood to be forgiven:  
But Oh! I fear my Eyes are drained too dry,  
That though I would, yet now I cannot cry.   

10  
If any Eye therefore can spare a tear,  
To fill the Fountains that must wet my Face:  
O let that Eye to this Sad Feast draw near,  
That my Complaints with Heaven may find Grace:  
For all the Tears mine eyes have ever Wept,  
Were now too little, had They all been kept.   

11  
You that have found the world's deceitful Smiles  
Turned into frowns; her shining days to Nights  
Of gloomy Terror: You that have known the Wiles  
Of flattering Friends, and Pleasures false Delights:  
You who have had your Trust betrayed: your Name  
Traduced: yourselves made but a Scorn, & Shame.   

12  
You that abhor the cheerful Sun, and Day,  
Sighing for Night to cover your Sad Faces;  
You that still feel December for your May:  
Nipped with the Frost of worldly Friends Disgraces:  
You who have trusted all your goods to Sea  
In one fair vessel, and that cast away:   

13  
Come sit by Me, and let us vie our Losses;  
Cast up our Cares, and tell our heavy Woes:  
Mine will outswell, outnumber all your Crosses,  
In Plots, and counterplots of secret Foes:  
Your stories may draw Water from the Eye:  
Mine will draw Blood, & make you bleeding Die.   

14  
You'll tell how you have vowed your Faith to some  
Fair face, and count her breach of Faith a cross:  
You'll say her Love, for Love returned not home;  
But where you looked for Profit found a loss:  
A loss indeed, but loss of earthly Treasure;  
But what's this Loss to Loss of heavenly Pleasure.   

15  
Love of the World, or worldly creature's vain;  
For such a Love now rises, now decays:  
And where my Love was such, it proved my Pain:  
It promised Happy, but brought heavy days:  
Love hath a March and April day:  
Yet longer love, and longer may.   

16  
For the rough Storms of March have crushed my Head  
And April showers have drowned my springing Buds  
The Beauty of my May is pale as Lead:  
And this was Love that forced me to the Woods,  
To breathe my sad Complaints into the air,  
And bade me (but that Heaven said no) despair.   

17  
But what of these? and what of thousands more?  
These are thy gentler Jerks (O God;) but I  
Have felt thy Iron Rod, that makes me roar.  
Eternal horror, which my soul would fly,  
Sets everlasting Death before mine Eyes;  
Fear of that Death shakes all my Faculties.   

18  
O that mine Eyes could gush out Tears, amain,  
And never cease till my eternal Night,  
Till my Eye floods his Mercy might obtain,  
Whom my Defaults have banished from his Sight:  
Then could I bless my Happy time of Crying;  
But, Woe alas! my barren Springs are Dying.   

19  
The arrows of th' Almighty stick so fast  
Within my sides, that their strong venom drinks  
My Spirits up, my joys are gone and past:  
I Sigh and look to Heaven, yet Heaven winks:  
My Sighs ascend, my Tears fall down, yet none  
In Heaven or Earth, gives ease unto my moan.   

20  
Yet Moan & Sigh, my Soul; for though he kill me,  
Still will I hope in him that can release me:  
When I have emptied all my sins, he'll fill me  
With his Grace; for He alone can ease me.  
Though Weeping may abide at Evening sure  
Joy in the Morning comes, and all's secure.   

21  
Why art thou then, my soul, so much cast down?  
Or why, poor Heart, thus fretst thou in my breast?  
After thy fall, His Favours may be shown;  
The righteous for their Trouble find a Rest;  
And though they go forth weeping with their seed  
They shall come joyful home, with sheaus at need.   

22  
Thrice happy Sinner was that blessed Saint,  
Who though He fell with puff of woman's last,  
Went forth and Wept, with many a bitter Plaint,  
And by his Tears obtained Grace at last:  
But Wretched I have fell of mine accord,  
Ten thousand times against the living Lord:   

23  
Yet cannot strain one true repentant tear,  
To gain the bliss from which my Soul is banished;  
My flinty Heart true Sorrowing doth forbear,  
And from my sense all true Remorse is vanished:  
For Heart & sense are cloyed with sense of Sin,  
That there's not place for Grace to enter in.   

24  
No place (Dear Lord) unless thy Goodness please,  
To pity Him, that worst deserves of any;  
And in thy tender Mercy, grant him Ease,  
As thou'tofore hast Mercy showed to many.  
The clouds of Sin do vanish when thy Grace  
Enters the Heart; O make my Heart thy Place.   

25  
Happy were man, if Sin had never been:  
Thrice Happy now, if Sins he would forsake:  
But Happier far, if for his wicked Sin,  
He would Repent, and hearty Sorrow make,  
Leaving the dross, and fleshly Delectation,  
To gain in Heaven a lasting Habitation.   

26  
There is the Place, wherein all Sorrows die;  
Where Joy exceeds all joys that ever were;  
Where Angels make continual Harmony:  
The mind set free from Care, Distrust, and fear;  
There all receive true Contentation.  
And Happy made, by Heavenly Contemplation.   

27  
O why should Man, that bears the stamp of Heaven,  
So much decline Heavens holy Will, and Pleasure?  
O why was sense and Reason to him given,  
That in his daily Sins will know no measure?  
He knows the Sad account that must be made  
For Sin; yet he makes Sin his daily trade.   

28  
This to recount (Dear God) doth kill my soul,  
But that thy Mercy quickeneth it again:  
O hear me Lord in bitterness of Dole,  
That of my Sins do prostrate here complain:  
And at thy feet with Mary knock for Grace,  
Though wanting Mary's Tears to wet my Face.   

29  
When She had lost thy presence but one day,  
The want was such, her Heart could not sustain,  
But to Thy tomb alone She took her way.  
And there with Sighs and Tears She did Complain;  
Nor with herself contented ere was she,  
Until again, She got a sight of Thee.   

30  
But I have lost thy Presence all my days,  
And still am slack to seek thee as I should;  
My wretched soul in deadly Sin so stays,  
I am unfit to see thee though I would:  
Yet if I would with Tears, Thy coming tend,  
To me, as Mary, Thou wouldst prove a friend.   

31  
Tears are the Key that open the way to bliss,  
The holy Water quenching Heavens quick Fire:  
Th' Atonement true twixt God and our amiss:  
The angel's drink, the blessed Saints desire,  
The Joy of Christ, the Balm of grieved Heart,  
The Spring of Life, the Ease of every Smart.   

32  
O wherefore is my steely Heart so hard?  
Why am I made of mettle unrelenting?  
Why is all Ghostly Comfort from me bard?  
Or to what end do I defer Repenting?  
Can lustful Flesh, or flattering World persuade me  
That I can scape the power of him that made me?   

33  
No, no: The secret Searcher of each Heart,  
Both sees, and knows each Deed that I have done;  
And for each Deed will pay me home with Smart:  
No place can serve His Will decreed to shun:  
I should deceive myself to think that he  
For Sin would punish others, and not Me.   

34  
Our first borne Sire, first breeder of man's Thrall,  
For one bare Sin was of Perfection reft,  
And all mankind were banished by his Fall,  
From Paradise, and unto Sorrow left:  
If he for one, and all for him feel pain;  
Then for so many, what shall I sustain?   

35  
The Angels made t'attend on God in Glory,  
Were thrust from Heaven for one Sin alone;  
That but in thought, (for so Records the Story)  
For Which they still in lasting darkness groan:  
If Those once Glorious, thus tormented be;  
Ah wicked ay! what will become of Me?   

36  
What will become of Me, that not in Thought,  
In Thought alone, but in each Word and Deed,  
A thousand thousand deadly Sins have wrought,  
And still do work, whereat my Heart doth Bleed?  
For even now, in this my Sad complaining,  
With new made Sins, my flesh, my Soul is staining.   

37  
O that I were removed to some close Cave!  
Where all alone retired from Delight:  
I might my Sighs and Tears untroubled have,  
And never come in Wretched worldlings sight,  
Whose ill bewitching company still brings  
Deep provocation, whence more Danger springs.   

38  
Ill Company, the cause of many Woes;  
The pleasing Bait that hides the subtle hook:  
The Rock unseen, that shipwrecked souls orethrows:  
The weeping Crocodile that kills with look:  
How Many Souls have perished by thy Guile,  
Whom thou hast led to Hell even with a smile?   

39  
O who will give me Tears that I may wail.  
Both Nights and days, the Dangers I have past?  
My Soul my Soul, 'tis much for thy avail,  
That thou art gotten from their straits at last:  
O Joy! but in thy Joy mix Tears withal,  
That Thou hast time to say, Lord hear me call.   

40  
I might as others Lord, have perished  
Amid my Sins, and damnable Delights; (cherished  
But thou (Good God) with care my soul haste  
And brought it home to look on heavenly Lights:  
Ah me! what Thanks, what Service can I render  
To thee, that of my safety art so tender?   

41  
Now do I curse the time I ever went  
In Sins black Path that leadeth to Damnation:  
Now do I hate the hours I have misspent  
In Idle Vice, neglecting Souls Salvation;  
And to redeem the time I have misworn,  
I wish this hour I were again newborn.   

42  
But vain it is (as saith the Wisest man)  
To call again the Day, that once is past;  
O let me see what best is for me than,  
To gain thy Favour, whilst my life doth last,  
That in the Next, I may but worthy be,  
Even in the meanest place to wait on Thee.   

43  
I will as did the prodigal Son sometimes,  
Upon my knees with hearty true Contrition,  
And weeping Eyes, confess my former Crimes,  
And humbly beg upon my low Submission,  
That thou wilt not of former Faults detect me,  
But like a loving Father now respect me.   

44  
Even thus will I in Sorrowing spend my breath,  
And spot my Face with never-dying tears,  
Till aged wrinkles, Messengers of Death,  
Have purchased Mercy, and removed my fears;  
And then the world within my looks shall read,  
The piteous Wrack unbridled Sin hath made.   

45  
And that which was a Pleasure to behold,  
Shall be to me an ever-griping pain;  
All my misdeeds shall one, and one be told,  
That I may see what Tyrants have me slain;  
And when I have thus mustered them apart,  
I will display on each a bleeding Heart.   

46  
And lest my Tears should fail me at most need,  
Before faith's face I'll fix my saviour's Passion,  
And see how His most precious side did Bleed,  
And note His Death, and Torment in such fashion,  
As never man the like did undertake;  
For Freely He hath done it for my sake.   

47  
If this his Mercy, and his kindness shown,  
Cannot provoke me unto tender Crying;  
Then will I back again turn to My own,  
Mine own sin's cause of His most cruel Dying;  
And if for them no Tears mine Eyes can find;  
Sighs shall cause Tears, Tears make my poor Eyes blind.   

48  
Till I have found Him whom my Soul doth love,  
Till Winter pass, and birds of Spring return,  
Till He my Heart shall throughly try, and prove,  
And make it with His heavenly Love to burn:  
Then to the world His Praise will I enrol,  
And tell what he hath done for my poor soul.   

49  
Neeping, and Praising will I walk and go,  
Weeping for Sin, and Praising for his Love,  
Until this Flesh to Lust the world shall throw,  
And he my soul to Paradise remove;  
Where with the choir of Angels I shall sing  
Blessed hallelujah's to our heavenly King:   

50  
Whose Throne the Saints and Martyrs still attend,  
Crowns on their heads, and palms clasped in their Hands,  
Enjoying all the Joys that have no End;  
Freed from their Sins, and Satan's heavy Bands.  
This is thy Power, & Love (Great God) that we  
That were thy Foes, shall have such Peace with Thee.   
FINIS.