CORNELL 
 
 UNIVERSITY 
 
 LIBRARY 
 
 GIFT .OF . - ,, 
 W. L. Phelps 
 
Poems; 
 
 453 
 
Cornell University 
 Library 
 
 The original of tliis book is in 
 tine Cornell University Library. 
 
 There are no known copyright restrictions in 
 the United States on the use of the text. 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/cu31 92401 31 85453 
 
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OXFORD EDITION 
 
 THE POEMS OF 
 GEORGE HERBERT 
 
 WITH AN INTRODUCTION BY 
 
 ARTHUR WAUGH 
 
 HENRY FROWDE 
 
 OXFORD UNIVERSITY PRESS 
 
 LONDON, NEW YORK, AND TORONTO 
 
 1907 
 
 ,lWi^ 
 
JB?507 
 
 i^o7 
 
 OXFORD : HOBACE HART 
 PRINTER TO THE tlNIVERSITY 
 
INTRODUCTION 
 
 It has been the happy privilege of the Church of 
 England, out of her own spirit of sweet reasonableness 
 and moderation, to train from time to time a band 
 of men who, while they are nurtured on her own essence 
 and educated in her special precepts, become in turn 
 the strength, the support, the very embodiment of 
 her principles and doctrine. ' That which the fountain 
 sends forth returns again to the fountain.' And the 
 strength and support of that branch of the Cathohc 
 Church miUtant in our own country has always lain 
 upon the middle way ; it has never been her method 
 either to ' waste in passionate dreams ', or to protest 
 overmuch with the voices of prophecy or denunciation. 
 To say this is not to presume to depreciate the excellence 
 of those kinds of enthusiasm which are congenitally 
 foreign to the English character. The rapt absorption 
 of the mystic, the perpetual adoration of the saint, 
 must be objects of reverence to every branch of the 
 faithful ; but such spiritual detachment is probably 
 pecuUar to races in which the naturar atmosphere is 
 more highly charged with the elements of romance 
 and imagination. In the same way, the fervour and 
 fiery eloquence of a John Knox, great and effectual 
 weapon as it is upon its own field, would seem more 
 attuned to a national temperament in which the powerful 
 assertion of individuality, and the dehght in the spoken 
 word, are more insistent than they can ever be in their 
 
iv Introduction 
 
 appeal to our milder and more equable disposition. 
 The Church of England, when she has been content to 
 speak with her own voice, has spoken more directly than 
 the mystic, and more temperately than the enthusiast. 
 When one thinks of the Church of England, quietly 
 leavening the land through the gentle operation of the 
 ages, one pictures, as it were, a broad stretch of meadow- 
 land, rich and mellow in the light of sunset, with here 
 and there among its bowery hollows the heavenward- 
 pointing spire of the village church, and, close beside 
 the yew-trees in the grave-yard, the grey walls and 
 open porch of the country parsonage. Here, as the 
 cattle wind homeward in the evening light, the benign, 
 white-haired parson stands at his gate to greet the 
 cowherd, and the village chime calls the labourers to 
 evensong. For these contented spirits, happily removed 
 from the stress and din of conflicting creeds and clash- 
 ing dogmas, the message of the gospel tells of divine 
 approval for work well done, of light at eventide, of rest 
 and refreshment for the weary. For them God is not in 
 the earthquake or in the fire, but in the still small voice. 
 And among these typical spirits, beacons of a quiet 
 hope, no figure stands out more brightly or more 
 memorably than that of George Herbert. So firmly 
 does he fill the imagination, so fully orbed does his 
 character appear, that it is difficult to realize that he 
 died in his fortieth year, having tried and tested so 
 many of the human emotions. For this is the special 
 appeal which Herbert makes to the ordinary layman ; 
 typical English churchman as he was, he was first 
 and foremost a man ; he had plunged into the life of 
 pleasure before preferring the fife of self-sacrifice. It 
 has been objected by some critics that of all Walton's 
 Lives the life of George Herbert rings least true, that 
 
Introduction v 
 
 there is an air almost of sanctimoniousness about it, 
 which seems assumed for the purpose of the occa- 
 sion ; that, in short, it is just a Uttle conventionally 
 insincere. One may question so sweeping a criticism, 
 and yet admit that Walton overpaints his picture. 
 He never knew Herbert personally, and he wrote in 
 the atmosphere that pervaded the finished life. He 
 described his subject, therefore, as saintly from his 
 boyhood, which he was most certainly not ; as moving 
 always towards the priesthood, whereas he was for 
 jrears an adroit and pleasure-loving courtier ; and, 
 finally, as Uving out a hfe consistent from the cradle 
 to the grave, while, as a matter of fact, the most winning 
 and human of all his characteristics was his bitter 
 abandonment of the bright attractions of the world, 
 in abandonment not effected without many searchings 
 of heart and much pain of conscience. Under the com- 
 ing hand of death he gave the MS. of his poems to his 
 friend Dimcon with this free confession : ' Sir, I pray 
 ieliver this little book to my dear brother Ferrar, and 
 tell him he shall find in it a picture of the many spiritual 
 jonflicts that have passed betwixt God and my soul, 
 before I could subject mine to the will of Jesus my 
 naster ; in whose service I have now found perfect 
 'reedom.' And this was no fashion of speech. It is 
 ;he pecuKar charm of his Hfe that that peace, ' which 
 passeth all understanding,' was not attained without 
 I full experience of the conflicts by which the pilgrim's 
 Drogress is commonly beset. George Herbert did not 
 !ear God for nought. He had come to the foot of the 
 ;ross by the way of Calvary. 
 
 For the main outlines of his hfe Walton stiU remains 
 ;he chief authority ; later research has corrected 
 I few facts and recast the interpretations, but for 
 
vi Introduction 
 
 Herbert's later years in particular Walton's rich and 
 humane picture will always endure as a masterpiece 
 in portraiture. It was on the third of April, 1593, that 
 George Herbert was born in Montgomery Castle in 
 Wales. His father's seat, which Walton describes as 
 ' a place of state and strength ', and Anthony h, Wood 
 as ' a pleasant and romancy place ', was destroyed 
 under the Commonwealth, but its ruins still stand on 
 a rocky and wooded hill, overlooking broad and fertile 
 meadows. The future poet was the fifth son of Richard 
 Herbert of Montgomery Castle, by his wife, Magdalen, 
 youngest daughter of Sir Richard Newport, of High 
 Ercall, Shropshire, who was in his day accounted the 
 largest landed proprietor in the county. The father 
 is described as Hack-haired and black-bearded, hand- 
 some and brave, but of a somewhat stem demeanour, 
 while the mother was of a singular beauty both of mind 
 and body, a great and good lady, if ever such devoted 
 herself to the care and culture of her children. It was 
 to her that Donne addressed his sonnet of S. Mary 
 Magdalen, and his later ' Autumnal Beauty ' was also 
 written in her praise. Of George Herbert's own devotion 
 to his mother the Parentalia contain many evidences. 
 
 Tu vero Mater perpetim laudabere 
 Nato dolenti : literae hoc debent tibi 
 Queis me educasti. 
 
 George Herbert was only four years old when his father 
 died, leaving his mother with the grave responsibility 
 of educating a large and somewhat self-willed family. 
 Her eldest son, Edward, was then of an age to go to 
 Oxford, and was entered at University College, and it 
 seems likely (though on this point there is some doubt) 
 that Mrs. Herbert removed her whole family to the 
 university city, in order to watch over her eldest boy. 
 
Introduction vii 
 
 and at the same time to give the others the benefit of 
 sound tuition. At any rate, George was taught by 
 private tutors until his twelfth year, when he proceeded 
 to Westminster School under Richard Ireland. Here 
 he made rapid progress with his books, became a King's 
 scholar, and in his fifteenth year was elected to a scholar- 
 ship at Trinity, Cambridge, where he matriculated on 
 the 18th of December, 1609. WTiile still at school he 
 attracted attention by a remarkable, if rather painfully 
 precocious rejoinder to one Andrew Melville, a minister 
 of the Scots church, who had attacked the ritual of 
 the Royal chapel of King James ; and at Cambridge 
 he soon made a name by his pen. In his nineteenth 
 year he contributed two poems in Latin to the collection 
 of obituary verse pubUshed by the University on the 
 death of the Prince of Wales, poems full of scholarship 
 and scholarly commendations. 
 
 Quod si fata illi longam invidere salutem, 
 Et patrio regno, sub quo iam Principe nobis 
 Quid sperare, immo quid non sperare Ucebat ? 
 
 At the same time he was essaying English verse as 
 well, as his letters to his mother prove, and was yet 
 not neglecting his more formal studies. He took his 
 B.A. , degree in 1612-13, became a minor fellow in 
 October, 1614, a major fellow in March, 1616, and 
 proceeded Master of Arts a year later. 
 
 It was now that circumstances threw him into touch 
 with the court, and drew him into that relation with 
 worldly pleasure from which he had so hard a struggle 
 to free himself, and upon which he used in later years 
 to look back with so sincere a regret. He was ap- 
 pointed in 1612 Pubhc Orator to the University, having 
 already ' showed his fitness for the employment ', as 
 Walton puts it, by a compUmentary letter to the King 
 
Vlll xnviuw<*vvivn> 
 
 acknowledging the royal gift of a copy of his Basilicon 
 Doron. ' This letter,' says Walton, ' was writ in such 
 excellent Latin, was so full of conceits, and all the ex- 
 pressions so suited to the genius of the King, that he 
 inquired the Orator's name, and then asked WiUiam, 
 Earl of Pembroke;, if he knew him. Whose answer 
 was, " That he knew him very well, and that he was 
 liis kinsman ; but he loved him more for his learning 
 and virtue than for that he was of his name and family." 
 At which answer the King smiled, and asked the Earl's 
 leave that he might love him too, for he took him to be 
 the jewel of that university.' 
 
 This introduction led to considerable results. Herbert 
 was clearly at this time well set up in his own estimation ; 
 the favour of the court flattered him ; the conspicuous 
 duties of his post added to his estimation in the pubhc 
 gaze ; and ' the love of a court conversation, mixed ', 
 as Walton quaintly puts it, ' with a laudable ambition 
 to be something more than he then was,' led him step 
 by step into the net of the courtier. For five or six 
 years, when the King was at neighbouring Royston, 
 Herbert was frequently about the court ; ' he enjoyed 
 his genteel humour for clothes ' ; neglected his public 
 duties, and found no little satisfaction in a life of ostenta- 
 tion and pleasure. In those days the King could show 
 his favour to a layman by giving him a religious benefice, 
 and King James bestowed upon Herbert the rich sinecure 
 living of Whitford, which was worth in the money 
 of that time £120 a year, or nearly £1,000 in our own.^ 
 With this comparative affluence at liis back, he was 
 anxious to leave the university altogether, to travel 
 and to regain his health (for he had already developed 
 
 • Dr. Groeart's Introduction to HerberCs Poems (George Bell & 
 Sons), p. xlvi. 
 
Introduction ix 
 
 signs of consumption) ; but his mother, who was always 
 a controlling influence in his hfe, besought him not to 
 abandon his career for the pursuit of pleasure, and, being 
 a good son, he complied with her wish. It was, indeed, 
 as well, for shortly afterwards the King's death put an 
 end to all his hopes of court preferment, and he was 
 once more thrown back upon his own resources, and upon 
 that deep undercurrent of reUgious feeling, which had 
 never really failed him as an inspiration. 
 
 It is difficult to conjecture how much George Herbert's 
 return to the spiritual Hfe was due to the sudden failure 
 of royal patronage, and how much to his own devotion ; 
 but it is vain to pretend that it was at first an easy or 
 a palatable change of front for him. ' In this time 
 of retirement ' [in London and Kent], says Walton, 
 ' he had many conflicts with himself, whether he should 
 return to the painted pleasures of a court life, or betake 
 himself to a study of divinity, and enter into sacred orders, 
 to which his mother had often persuaded him. These 
 were such conflicts as they only can know that have 
 endured them ; for ambitious desires, and the outward 
 glory of this world, are not easily laid aside ; but at last 
 God inclined him to put on a resolution to serve at His 
 altar.' 
 
 There is some obscurity, as Dr. Grosart has pointed 
 out, about the exact date of Herbert's taking orders, 
 for, although he was appointed to the Uving of Leighton 
 Bromswold in July, 1626, it would appear that this 
 appointment, Kke that to Whitford, was of the nature 
 of a sinecure bestowed upon a layman, and that though 
 he was for some years to come engaged in good works, 
 he did not actually take orders until he was appointed 
 to Bemerton in 1630. But at any rate he became 
 prebendary of Leighton Bromswold, and at once set 
 
X Introduction 
 
 to work to rebuild the church. Here at last he had 
 found work to his hand. The fabric was in a ruinous 
 condition, and he wrote to the wealthy landowners in 
 the neighbourhood ' witty and persuasive letters ' which 
 moved them to generosity. The purses of his own 
 kindred were also laid under contribution, for ' he 
 became restless till he saw it finished '. In the midst 
 of the work, he suffered irreparable loss in the death 
 of his mother, a blow which affected him so deeply as 
 to endanger his own health and to oblige him finally 
 to resign his posts at the university. He was indeed 
 seriously ill, and betook himself to Dauntsey in Wilt- 
 shire, where the mild air was supposed to be especially 
 favourable for diseases of the chest. It was here, 
 while staying with his kinsman Lord Danby, that 
 George Herbert met his future wife. She was the 
 eldest daughter of Charles Danvers, of Sainton, Wilts., 
 and the match was rather curiously arranged. For, 
 as Walton tells the story, ' this Mr. Danvers, having 
 known him long and familiarly, did so much affect 
 him that he often and pubhcly declared a desire that 
 Mr. Herbert would marry any of his nine daughters 
 — for he had so many— but rather his daughter Jane 
 than any other, because Jane was his beloved daughter. 
 And he had often said the same to Mr. Herbert himself ; 
 and that if he could like her for a wife, and she him 
 for a husband, Jane should have a double blessing : 
 and Mr. Danvers had so often said the Uke to Jane, 
 and so much commended Mr. Herbert to her, that 
 Jane became so much a platonic, as to fall in love 
 A\ith Mr. Herbert unseen.' This match, so vicariously 
 prepared, was sealed by a marriage on the fifth of 
 March, 1628-9, and resulted in the most complete 
 mutual affection and happiness. Indeed the gentle 
 
Introduction xi 
 
 humour of Walton's epilogue must on no account be 
 missed ; for he tells that, when Mrs. Herbert was 
 married a second time to Sir Robert Cook, she was 
 ' his wife eight years, and lived his widow about fifteen ; 
 all which time she took a pleasure in mentioning and 
 commending the excellencies of Mr. George Herbert'. 
 
 Within a year of his marriage Herbert at last took 
 deacon's orders, and was preferred to that pleasant 
 hving at Bemerton, with which his name is indissolubly 
 connected. The story of his induction can be told 
 only in Walton's words. ' When he was shut into 
 Bemerton Church,' he says, ' being left there alone 
 to toll the bell — as the law required him — he stayed 
 so much longer than an ordinary time, before he re- 
 turned to those friends that stayed expecting him at 
 the church door, that his friend Mr. Woodnot looked 
 in at the church window, and saw him Ue prostrate 
 on the ground before the altar ; at which time and 
 place — as he after told Mr. Woodnot — he set some 
 rules TO himself for the future manage of his Ufe ; and 
 then and there made a vow to labour to keep them.' 
 
 Alas ! the time left to him was but short ; his ministry 
 at Bemerton embraced but three years in all. The 
 consumption, which had always threatened him, was 
 slowly making its inroad upon a constitution which 
 had never been other than fragile, and these three years 
 of wise and kindly ministration were always hved 
 under the shadow of approaching death. Much more, 
 however, were they hved in the very essence and odour 
 of sanctity. It is at Bemerton that the world loves 
 to think of George Herbert, the chain that bound 
 him to the world broken, his struggles with inchnation 
 and ambition at an end, and his gentle spirit, fenced 
 round with love and reverence, breathing the consola- 
 
xii Aiuroattctton 
 
 tion of the faith in every utterance of a strenaons and 
 eloquent tongue. Walton, with great particnlarity, sets 
 forth the quality of his teaching, and, ample though it 
 may seem to the more self-conscions theology of our 
 own day, it will be found to explain the English liturgy 
 with a thoroughness that m^iy a more sophisticated 
 preacher might envy him. But, well and warmly as he 
 must have discoursed to his little flock, Herbrat had 
 left the days of personal ambition behind him, ami. was 
 no longer smxious to repeat the taiumphs of the orator. 
 At Leighton Bromswold he had lowered the polpit to the 
 height of the prayer desk, to the end that ' prayer and 
 preaching, bdng equally us^nl, might agree like breUirei^ 
 and having an equal honour and estimaticHi ' ; and thk 
 principle, the exaltation of sjniitnal devotion, warm as 
 it is at the heart of all his poems, was the essence of his 
 instruction also. For, as Walton tells U5, ' if he were at 
 any time too zealous in his sermons, it was in reproving 
 the indecencies of the people's behaviour in the time of 
 divine service ; and of those ministers that huddle up 
 the Church prayers, without a viable reverraice and 
 affection ; namely, such as seemed to say the Lord's 
 prayer or a cdlect in a breath. But tor himself, his cus- 
 tom was to stop betwixt evray collect, and give the peo- 
 ple time to consider what th^ had prayed, and to force 
 their desires affectionately to €rod, before he engaged 
 them into new petitions.' 
 
 The dates of his various poems are uncertain ; some 
 of them were, doubtless, written in youth ; some again 
 during his time <rf retirement in preparation for the 
 priestly life ; but a great many of them — ^perhaps one 
 n^y even say the greater part of The Temple — mast 
 have been composed at Bemerton. They are set forth 
 in this volume, in a text critically based upon that which 
 
Introduaton xiii 
 
 the devoted care of Dr. Grosart gave to tie world, for 
 iSxe delectataon of aQ true chnrelimeii aSL the world over. 
 So much are they become a portion of the Uteratnre of 
 devotion that it can be no paot of the present rough 
 picture of the saintly fignre which created them to snb- 
 mit them to cold, analytical criticism. They have their 
 mannerisms, of course, many of them frables of thdr 
 day ; such as the strange devices of arrangement and 
 type ; such too as the occasionally tortured and ' con- 
 ceited ' phraseology. Bnt they stand in the first place 
 amid the Yery smaU body of English devotional verse 
 which is also worthy to be counted among the riches of 
 F.ngBah poetry. The spirit of the British Church is 
 
 I jay, deare Mother, when I view 
 Hiy perfect lineaments and hue. 
 
 Both sweet and bright. 
 Beanty in thee takes up her place. 
 And dates her letters from thy face. 
 
 When she doth write. 
 
 Otiier branches of the faith have other virtaes ; tiiere 
 is a diversity of gifts, and God fulfils Himself in many 
 ways. 
 
 But, dearest Mother, what those misse. 
 The mean — thy praise and ^orie is. 
 
 Here is devotion witiiout ecstasy, faith without vain- 
 glory, love without jealousy. And where in all the 
 Uterature of the church shall we find a picture like this 
 of an T^ng liah Easter morning ? 
 
 I got me flowers to straw Thy way, 
 
 I got me boughs off many a tree ; 
 
 But Thou wast np by break of day. 
 
 And bron^t'st l^y sweets along with Thee. 
 
 It is the perfect utterance, fitting the p^ect hour. 
 
xiv Introdttction 
 
 And so in his church, in his study, in his happy 
 wanderings along the lanes to Salisbniy, the three years 
 of his peaceful eventide wore down to sunset. In parti- 
 cular, one must think of him by the countryside, for it 
 was there that he spoke so many kindly words of help 
 and counsel ; there that he was most eagerly awaited 
 by the cottage-doors. ' Some of the meaner sort of his 
 parish did so love and reverence Mr. Herbert that they 
 would let their plough rest when Mr. Herbert's saints'- 
 bell rung to prayers, that they might also offer their 
 devotions to God with him ; and would then return 
 back to their plough.' Work and prayer ! It is the 
 familiar, well-tried amtilet of the soul. And with Littk 
 Gidding, where the family of Nicholas Ferrar made a 
 perpetual offering to God of their faith and love, Herbert 
 was a frequent correspondent ; ' their new holy friend- 
 ship was long msuntained without any int«view, but 
 only by loving and endearing letters.' And so, when the 
 approach of death was certain, it was to Ferrar that 
 George Herbert sent his precious packet of poetry, 
 desiring him ' to read it ; and then, if he can think it 
 may turn to the advantage of any dejected poor soul, 
 let it be made public ; if not, let him bum it ; for I and 
 it are less than the least of God's mercies '. 
 
 The lesson of humility — the last and hardest lesson 
 which man has to learn — was indeed well learnt ; the 
 once-proud knees had bowed themselves before the 
 altar ; and the spirit was ready for its release. 
 
 There are souls that call us to the fierce tempestuous 
 moments of life, spirits, like Michael's, armed with the 
 sword of the Lord, to do His will upon His enemies. 
 They have their place in the vangusad of the Faith. 
 But there are other souls, no less eloquent of His pre- 
 sence, who come, like Gabriel, with a message of peace 
 
and love, and lead us by quiet waters, in the valley of 
 consolation. Of such is the tender, humble, devoted 
 spirit of George Herbert. Three hundred years have 
 almost passed since he laid down the earthly duties of 
 his priesthood, and the prayer with which he took them 
 up is abundantly fulfilled. ' I beseech God,' he said, 
 ' that my humble and charitable life so win upon others 
 as to bring glory to my Jesus, whom I have this day 
 taken to be my master and governor.' 
 
 He has liis wish : liis songs live after him ; and, like 
 a white lily before the altar of the Eternal faith, the 
 flower of his devoted life 
 
 Smells sweet and blossoms in the dust. 
 
 ARTHUR WAUGH. 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 Thi Tbmplx : Sacbso Posus and Frivatb Ejaculations 
 
 PAOB 
 
 The Fiinters to the Reader . 3 
 
 Thb Dbdication ... 7 
 
 Thb Church PoRcai. . . 7 
 
 Sppbbliminabb .... 27 
 
 TftB Church 27 
 
 igfiie Altar ... . . '27 
 
 .The Saorifioe-r-O . . . 2S 
 
 The Thanbgiving . . . 30 
 
 TheEcprisaU 37 
 
 TheAgonie 38 
 
 l^eSiimer 39 
 
 ^Good-Friday 39 
 
 Redemption 40 
 
 Sepolohre 41 
 
 Easter and The Song, and 
 
 another version . . 42-43 
 
 't:asterWings 43 
 
 Holy Baptisine .... 44 
 
 Holy Baptisiue . . . . 4J3 
 
 ■ Natnre 45 
 
 Siuiie 46 
 
 A61iction 46 
 
 Repentance 49 
 
 fWth 50 
 
 Prayer 51 
 
 The Holy Communion . . 52 
 
 Antiphon 53 
 
 Love, I and II .... 54 
 
 The Temper 55 
 
 The Temper 56 
 
 .Jordan 57 
 
 .Employment 57 
 
 The Holy Scriptures, I and 
 
 II 58-59 
 
 /^Vbitsimday 59 Antiphon 
 
 Grace 60 Unkuidnesse 
 
 Praise 61 Life 
 
 Affliction 62 Submission 
 
 Mattens .... 
 
 Sinne 
 
 Even-Song . . . 
 
 Churoh-MonumentB . 
 
 Charch Musiok . 
 
 Cborch Look and Key 
 
 The Church Floore . 
 
 Xhe WindoTTS 
 L^rinitie Sunday . 
 
 Content .... 
 
 The Quidditic . . 
 
 Homilitie . j^ . 
 
 PraUtie— f— r— O . 
 
 Constaucie 
 
 Affliction . 
 
 The Starre 
 
 Sunday . 
 ■ -Avarice . 
 ^^Lnagram : Mary, Army 
 *^ To ail Angels and Saints 
 
 Ehnployment . 
 
 Deniall . . . 
 
 Christmas- . 
 
 Ungratefulnes^ie . 
 
 Sighs and Grones 
 
 The World . . 
 
 Our Life is hid with Christ 
 in God (Col. iii. 3) 
 
 Vanitie 
 
 Lent 
 
 Jertui 
 l^he Pearl (Matt, xiii 
 
 Affliction 
 
 Man . 
 
 PAGE 
 
 1-196 
 
 PAGB 
 62 
 
 63 
 63 
 65 
 65 
 66 
 66 
 67 
 68 
 68 
 60 
 70 
 71 
 72 
 73 
 74 
 
 77 
 
 77 
 7S 
 79 
 80 
 81 
 82 
 83 
 84 
 
 85 
 85 
 86 
 88 
 89 
 90 
 91 
 93 
 94 
 95 
 95 
 
XVIU 
 
 Contents 
 
 FAOB 
 
 Justice 96 
 
 Charms and Knots ... 96 
 
 Affliction 97 
 
 Mortification 98 
 
 ■Decay 99 
 
 Miserie 100 
 
 •Jordan 103 
 
 Prayer 103 
 
 Obedience 104 
 
 Conscience 106 
 
 Sion 107 
 
 Home 108 
 
 ■The Britisii Church . . .110 
 
 rbheQuip ....... Ill 
 
 Vanitie 112 
 
 The Dawning . . . .113 
 
 Jesu 114 
 
 Businesse 114 
 
 Dialogue 116 
 
 Dulnesse 117 
 
 Love-joy 118 
 
 Providence 118 
 
 Hope 124 
 
 Sinne's Bound .... 124 
 
 Time 125 
 
 Gratefulnesse 126 
 
 •*eace 127 
 
 Confession 129 
 
 ^ddinesse 130 
 
 /The Bunch of Grapes . . 131 
 Love-unkno\ra . . . .132 
 Man's Medley .... 134 
 
 The Storm 135 
 
 Paradise 136 
 
 The Method 136 
 
 Divinitie 137 
 
 ' Grieve not the Holy Spirit ' 
 (Eph. iv. 30] .... 139 
 
 TheFamilie 140 
 
 The Size 141 
 
 Artillerie 142 
 
 Church-Rents and Schismes 144 
 
 Justice 145 
 
 The Pilgrimage ... 146 
 
 The Holdfast 147 
 
 Complaining 147 
 
 The Discharge . . . .148 
 
 FAOB 
 
 Praise 150 
 
 An Offering 151 
 
 Longing 153 
 
 tL, Bag 155 
 
 _G[!fie Jews ••_■••• 157 
 'heCoUar -rO . ■ .157 
 
 -TheGUmpse 159 
 
 Assurance 160 
 
 JheCaU 161 
 
 Clasping of Hands . . . 162 
 
 - • le 162 
 
 iseph's Coat .... 164 
 'he Pulley .—7 ... 164 
 
 «The Priesthood .... 165 
 
 The Search 167 
 
 Grief 169 
 
 The Crosse 169 
 
 The Flower 171 
 
 Dotage 172 
 
 ■<nie Sonne 173 
 
 "ATrueHymne . . . .174 
 
 The Answer 174 
 
 A Dialogue- Antheme . . 175 
 The WateMOurse . . .178 
 Sell-Condemnation . . .176 
 Bitter-Sweet 177 
 
 »^e Glance 177 
 
 ;/The 23rd Psalme . . . .178 
 Marie Magdalene .... 179 
 Aaron 180 
 
 -The Odour (2 Cor. xi) . . 181 
 TheFoa 182 
 
 -The Forerunners . . . .182 
 
 The Rose lU 
 
 Discipline 185 
 
 The Invitation .... 186 
 
 ^le Banquet 187 
 
 ThePosie 189 
 
 AParodie 190 
 
 TheEUxer 191* 
 
 A Wreath 192 
 
 Death 192 
 
 ^Djxim's-day 193 
 
 ^^dgment 194 
 
 iPeaven 195 
 
 ■Love . . 'f . . . . 195i 
 
Contents 
 
 XIX 
 
 **♦ For convenience of reference, these Contents are also arranged 
 alphabeticallif 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Aaron 180 
 
 A Dialogue- Antheme . . 175 
 
 Affliction 46 
 
 Affliction 62 
 
 Affliction 73 
 
 Affliction 90 
 
 Affliction 97 
 
 Anagram 77 
 
 An Offering 151 
 
 Antiphon 53 
 
 Antiphon 93 
 
 AParodie 190 
 
 Artillerie 142 
 
 Assvirance 160 
 
 ATrueHymne . . .174 
 
 Avarice 77 
 
 A Wreath 192 
 
 Bitter-Sweet 177 
 
 Busineese 114 
 
 Charms and Knots ... 96 
 
 Christmas 81 
 
 Church Lock and Key . . 66 
 
 Church-Monuments ... 65 
 
 Church Musick .... 65 
 
 Church-Bents and Schismes 144 
 Clasping of Hands . . .162 
 
 Complaining 147 
 
 Confession 129 
 
 Conscience 106 
 
 Constanoie 72 
 
 Content 68 
 
 Death 192 
 
 ■Becay 99 
 
 Deniall 80 
 
 Dialogue 116 
 
 Discipline 185 
 
 Divinitie 137 
 
 Doom's-day 193 
 
 Dotage 172 
 
 Dulnesse 117 
 
 Easter 42-43 
 
 Easter Wings 43 
 
 Employment WD 
 
 Employment PS, 
 
 Even-Song o3 
 
 Faith 50 
 
 FAGB 
 
 Erailtie 71 
 
 "Ciddinesse 130 
 
 Good Friday 39 
 
 Grace 60 
 
 Gratefulnesse 126 
 
 Grief 169 
 
 ' Grieve not the Holy Spiiit,' 
 
 &c 139 
 
 Heaven ....... 195 
 
 Holy Baptisme .... 44 
 
 Holy Baptisme .... 45 
 
 Holy Communion ... 52 
 
 Home 108 
 
 Hope 124 
 
 Humilitie 70 
 
 Jesu 114 
 
 Jordan 67 
 
 Jordan 103 
 
 Joseph's Coat .... 164 
 
 Judgment 194 
 
 Justice ...... 90 
 
 Justice 145 
 
 Lent 86 
 
 Life 95 
 
 Longing 153 
 
 Love 64 
 
 Love 195 
 
 Love-joy 118 
 
 Loye-unknown .... 132 
 
 m^n 91 
 
 Man's Medley .... 134 
 Marie Magdalene . . . .179 
 
 Mattens 62 
 
 Miserie 100 
 
 Mortification 98 
 
 Nature 45 
 
 Obedience 104 
 
 Our Life is hid with Christ 
 
 in God 85 
 
 Paradise 136 
 
 ■Peace 127 
 
 Praise 61 
 
 Praise 150 
 
 Praise 163 
 
 Prayer 61 
 
 Prayer 103 
 
XX 
 
 Contents 
 
 FAQB 
 
 Providence 118 
 
 Bedemption 40 
 
 Repentance 49 
 
 Self-Condemnation . . .176 
 
 Sepulchre 41 
 
 Sighs and Grones. ... 83 
 
 Sinne 46 
 
 Sinne 63 
 
 Sinne's Bound .... 124 
 
 Sion 107 
 
 Submission 95 
 
 Sunday 75 
 
 Superliminare . . . . 27 
 Tentation ( = Affliction) . . 90 
 
 The Agonie 38 
 
 The Altar 27 
 
 The Answer 174 
 
 The Bag 155 
 
 The Banquet 187 
 
 •The British Church . . .110 
 The Bunch of Grapes . . 131 
 
 The Call 161 
 
 The Church Floore ... 66 
 The Church Porch ... 27 
 
 The Collar 157 
 
 The Crosse 169 
 
 The Dawning 113 
 
 The Dedication .... 7 
 The Discharge . . . .148 
 
 TheEUxer 191 
 
 The Familie UO 
 
 The Flower QTD 
 
 The Foil TSf 
 
 The Forerunners . . . .182 
 
 The Glance 177 
 
 TheGUmpse 159 
 
 The Holdfast 147 
 
 FAGB 
 
 The Holy Scriptures . . 58-59 
 
 The Invitation .... 186 
 
 -fl'he Jews 157 
 
 The Method 136 
 
 f-The Odour 181 
 
 i-ThePearl; 89^^ 
 
 The Pilgrimage .... 146 
 
 The Posie 189 
 
 The Priesthood .... 165 
 
 The Pulley . . . . . 164 i^ 
 T)l& Quidditie .... 69 
 
 UTheQuip. Ill 
 
 TheReprisall 37 
 
 The Rose . ' . . . . .184 
 
 The Sacrifice 2S 
 
 The Search 167 
 
 The Sinner 39 
 
 The Size 141 
 
 -The Sonne 173 
 
 TheStarre 74 
 
 The Storm 135 
 
 The Temper 55 
 
 The Temper 56 
 
 The Thanksgiving ... 36 
 
 The 23rd Psalm .... 178 
 The Water-course . . .177 
 The Windows .... 67 
 
 The World 84 
 
 Time 125 
 
 To all Angels and Saints. . 78 
 Trinitie Sunday .... 68 
 Ungratefulnesse .... 83 
 
 Unkindnesse 94 
 
 Vanitie 85 
 
 Vanitie 112 
 
 Vertue 88 
 
 Whitsunday 69 
 
 The Chubch Militant . . . . ' 197-208 
 
 Additional Sacked Poems 209-216 
 
 The Holy Communion . .211 
 
 Love 212 
 
 Trinity Sunday . . . .213 
 Even-Song 214 
 
 Psalms 217-228 
 
 The Knell 215 
 
 Perseverance 215 
 
 The Convert 216 
 
Contents xxi 
 
 PAQB 
 
 Inscription in the Parsonage, Bemerton : To my successor. . 232 
 
 Another version 232 
 
 On Lord Danvers 232 
 
 On Sir John Danvera 233 
 
 A Paradox. That the sick are in a better case then the 
 
 whole 233 
 
 To y° Queene of Bohemia 235 
 
 L'Envoy 237 
 
 Pabentalia 239-252 
 
 ANTI-TAMl-CAm-CATBGOMA ET GeOEQII HeRBBETI, AnQU 
 
 MusAB Ebsponsoeiab, AD Andebae Melvini, Scoti, Anti- 
 Tami-Cami-Cateqoeiam 253-262 
 
 Pro Supplici Evangelicorvm Ministrorvm in Anglia, &o., sive 
 Anti-Tami-Cami-Categoria 255 
 
 Pro Disciflina Ecclbsiab nosteab Epioraiumata Apolo- 
 GETIOA 263-284 
 
 To King James I 263 
 
 To Charles, Prince of Wales 263 
 
 To Bishop Audrewes 264 
 
 To the King : Two Epigrams 264 
 
 To Melville . . . .' 264 
 
 On the Monster of a Word ' Anti-Tami-Cami-Categoria ' . . 265 
 
 The Division of Anti-Tami-Cami-Categoria 265 
 
 On the kind of Metre of Anti-Tami-Oami-Categoria .... 266 
 
 Concerning the Masked Gorgon 266 
 
 Concerning the Pride of Prelates 266 
 
 Concerning the Twin Universities 267 
 
 Concerning the Rite of Poly Baptisme 267 
 
 Concerning the Sign of the Cross 268 
 
 Concerning the Church's Oath 269 
 
 On Purification ( = Churching) after Childbirth 269 
 
 Concerning the Pontifical Beauty ( = decency) of Anti-Christ 269 
 
 Concerning the Surplice 270 
 
 Concerning the spuare College-cap ; 270 
 
 ToaPuritan 271 
 
 Concerning Bishops 271 
 
 Concerning the same : to Melville 272 
 
 Concerning a Puritan Weaver 272 
 
 Concerning Magical Circles 272 
 
 On the Brethren 273 
 
 On Spots and Blemishes 273 
 
 Concerning Sacred Music 273 
 
 Concerning the same 275 
 
 Concerning the Use of Ceremonies 275 
 
 Concerning the Wedding-ring 276 
 
 Concerning Puritans and Worldlings 277 
 
 Concerning the Lord's Prayer 277 
 
 To a certain Puritan 278 
 
xxii Contents 
 
 FAQB 
 
 .ConoemingtheShe-Wolf of the Vatican Puddle 278 
 
 Concerning Imposition of Handa 278 
 
 The Petitioning Ministers Taking-off : treated as a Comedy . 278 
 
 On the enumeration of Authors 279 
 
 Concerning the Accursed Hunger for Gold 280 
 
 To Scotland : an exhortation to Peace 280 
 
 To Innocent Ones led astray 281 
 
 To Melville 281 
 
 To the same 282 
 
 To his most Serene Majesty [James I] 283 
 
 To God 284 
 
 AUA PoEMATA Latina 287-294 
 
 To the Author of Instauratio Magna, Francis Bacon . . . 287 
 To the honour of the most illustrious Francis, Baron Veru- 
 
 1am, &o 287 
 
 Comparison between the Office of the Lord High Chancellor- 
 ship and (Lord Bacon's] Book (presented to the University) 288 
 A Negress courts Cestus, a Man of a difierent colour . . . 288 
 On the Death of the incomparable Francis, Viscount St. 
 
 Albans 289 
 
 On (my) Birthday and Good-BViday coinciding 289 
 
 To Dr. Donne, on the gift of one of his Seals : an Anchor and 
 
 Christ 290 
 
 On the Anchor Seal 291 
 
 To James I 291 
 
 On the Death of her most Serene Majesty Queen Anne (of 
 
 Denmark) 3£H 
 
 On the Death of Henry Prince of Wales 292 
 
 On the Death of Prince Henry 293 
 
 Passio Discbepta. Lttcus 297-318 
 
 Passio Discbepta 
 
 To the Dying Lord 297 
 
 On the Bloody Sweat 297 
 
 On the Same 297 
 
 On the Pierced Side 297 
 
 On the Spittle and Revilings 298 
 
 On the Thorny Crown 298 
 
 On the Reed, Crown of Thorns, Bending the Knee, and Purple 
 
 Robe 298 
 
 On the Buffetings 299 
 
 On the Scourge 299 
 
 On the Parted Garments 299 
 
 On the Penitent Thief 299 
 
 On Christ about to ascend the Cross . 300 
 
 Christ on the Cross 300 
 
 On the Nails . 30O 
 
 On the Bowed Head 300 
 
Contents 
 
 xxui 
 
 „ , „ PAGE 
 
 To the Failing Sun 301 
 
 The Open Graves 301 
 
 The Earthquake • . 302 
 
 The Kent Veil 302 
 
 The Rent Bocks 302 
 
 On the Earth's Sympathy with Christ 303 
 
 LtroTJS 
 
 Man an Image 304 
 
 The Fatherland 304 
 
 On Stephen Stoned 304 
 
 On Simon Magus 305 
 
 On the Holy Scriptures 305 
 
 On the Peace enjoyed by Britain 306 
 
 Avarice 306 
 
 On the Washing of the Apostles' Feet 306 
 
 On St. Luke 306 
 
 The Pope's Title : neither God nor Man 307 
 
 The Paying of the Tribute 307 
 
 The Tempest : 'Christ Asleep 307 
 
 The Good Citizen 307 
 
 On the Shadow of Peter 307 
 
 Martha : Ma/y 308 
 
 In Love 308 
 
 On a Proud Man 308 
 
 On the same 309 
 
 Affliction 309 
 
 On Vainglory 309 
 
 On a Glutton 310 
 
 On a Plausible Villain 310 
 
 Consolation 310 
 
 On the Angels 311 
 
 Eome : ^agram _ ... 311 
 
 Pope Urban Vni's reply 312 
 
 Reply to Urban Vrtl 312 
 
 To Pope Urban VIII 313 
 
 A Reasonable Sacrifice 313 
 
 On Thomas the Twin 313 
 
 On a Sun-dial 314 
 
 The Triumph of Death 314 
 
 The Christian's Triumph over Death 317 
 
 To John on the Breast (of Christj 317 
 
 To the Lord 318 
 
 Index or Fibst Lines . ' 319 
 
THE TEMPLE 
 
THE 
 PRINTERS TO THE READER 
 
 The dedication of this work having been made by 
 the Authour to the Divine Majestie onely, how should 
 we now presume to interest any mortall man in the 
 patronage of it ! Much lesse think we it meet to seek 
 the recommendation of the Muses for that which him- 
 self was confident to have been inspired by a diviner 
 breath then flows from Helicon. The world, therefore, 
 shall receive it in that naked simplicitie ivith which 
 he left it, without any addition either of support or 
 ornament more then is included in itself. We leave it 
 free and unforestalled to every man's judgement, and 
 to the benefit that he shall finde by perusall. Onely, 
 for the clearing of some passages, we have thought it 
 not unfit to make the common Reader privie to some 
 few particularities of the condition and disposition of 
 the Person. 
 
 Being nobly born, and as eminently endued with 
 gifts of the minde, and having by Industrie and happy 
 education perfected them to that great height of excel- 
 lencie, whereof his fellowship of Trinitie CoUedge in 
 Cambridge, and his Oratorship in the Universitie, 
 together with that knowledge which the King's Court 
 had taken of him, could make relation farre above 
 ordinarie. Quitting both his deserts and all the oppor- 
 tunities that he had for worldly preferment, he betook 
 himself to the Sanctuarie and Temple of God, choosing 
 rather to serve at God's altar then to seek the honour 
 of State-employments. As for those inwa'rd enforce- 
 
 ?2 
 
The Printers to the Reader 
 
 ments to this course (for outward there was none), 
 which many of these ensuing verses bear witnesse of, 
 they detract not from the freedome, but adde to the 
 honour of this resolution in him. As God had enabled 
 him, so he accounted him meet not onely to be called, 
 but to be compelled to this service : wherein his faith- 
 full discharge was such as may make him justly a com- 
 panion to the primitive saints, and a pattern or more 
 for the age he lived in. 
 
 To testifie his independencie upon all others, and to 
 quicken his diligence in this kinde, he used in his 
 ordinarie speech, when he made mention of the blessed 
 name of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ, to adde 
 ' My Master '. 
 
 Next God, he loved that which God himself hath 
 magnified above all things, that is, his Word : so as 
 he hath been heard to make solemne protestation, that 
 he would not part with one leaf thereof for the whole 
 world, if it were offered him in exchange. 
 
 His obedience and conformitie to the Church and the 
 discipline thereof was singularly remarkable : though 
 he abounded in private devotions, yet went he every 
 morning and evening with his familie to the Church; 
 and by his example, exhortations, and encouragements 
 drew the greater part of his parishioners to accompanie 
 him dayly in the public celebration of Divine Service. 
 
 As for worldly matters, his love and esteem to them 
 was so little, as no man can more ambitiously seek then 
 he did earnestly endeavour the resignation of an eccle- 
 siastical dignitie, which he was possessour of. But God 
 permitted not the accomplishment of this desire, having 
 ordained him his instrument for re-edifying of the 
 Church belonging thereunto, that had layen ruinated 
 almost twenty years. The reparation whereof, having 
 
The Printers to the Header 
 
 been uneffectually attempted by publick collections, 
 was in the end by his own and some few others' private 
 free-will offerings successfully effected. With the remem- 
 brance whereof, as of an especial good work, when 
 a friend went about to comfort him on his death-bed, he 
 made answer, ' It is a good work, it it be sprinkled with 
 the bloud of Christ ' : otherwise then in this respect he 
 could finde nothing to glorie or comfort himself with, 
 neither in this nor in any other thing. 
 
 And these are but a few of many that might be said, 
 which we have chosen to premise as a glance to some 
 parts of the ensuing book, and for an example to the 
 Reader. 
 
 We conclude all with his own motto, with which he 
 used to conclude all things that might seem to tend 
 any way to his own honour, 
 
 ' Lesse than the least of God's mercies,' 
 
THE TEMPLE 
 
 I. THE DEDICATION 
 
 Lord, my first-fruits present themselves to Thee ; 
 Yet not mine neither ; for from Thee they came, 
 And must return. Accept of them and me, 
 And make us strive who shall sing best Thy Name. 
 
 Turn their eyes hither who shall make a gain ; 
 
 Theirs who shall hurt themselves or me refrain. 
 
 II. THE CHUECH PORCH 
 PERIRRHANTERIUM 
 
 I 
 
 Thou whose sweet youth and early hopes inhance 
 Thy rate and price, and mark thee for a treasure, 
 Hearken unto a Verser, who may chance 
 Ryme thee to good, and make a bait_9£ pleasure : v^ 
 
 A verse may finde him who a sermon flies, 
 
 And turn delight into a sacrifice. 
 
 II 
 
 Beware of lust ; it doth pollute and foul 
 
 Whom God in Baptisme washt with His own Bloud ; 
 
 It blots thy lesson written in thy soul ; 
 
 The holy lines cannot be understood : 
 How dare those eyes upon a Bible look, 
 Much lesse towards God, whose lust is all their book ! 
 
The lempte 
 
 m 
 
 Abstain wholly, or wed. Thy bounteous liord 
 Allows thee choise of paths ; take no by-wayes. 
 But gladly welcome what He doth afford. 
 Not grudging that thy lust hath bounds and stales. 
 Continence hath his joy ; weigh both, and so. 
 If rottennesse have more, let Heaven go. 
 
 rv 
 
 If God had laid all common, certainly 
 
 Man would have been th' incloser ; but since now 
 
 God hath impal'd us, on the contrarye 
 
 Man breaks the fence, and every ground will plough. 
 
 0, what were man, might he himself misplace ! 
 
 Sure, to be crosse, he would shift feet and face. 
 
 Drink not the third glasse, — ^which thou canst not tame 
 When once it is within thee, but before 
 Mayst rule it as thou list, — and poure the shame. 
 Which it would poure on thee, upon the floore. 
 It is most just to throw that on the ground 
 Which would throw me there if I keep the round. 
 
 VI 
 
 He that is drunken, may his mother kill 
 Bigge with his sister : he hath lost the reins, 
 Is outlawd by himselfe ; all kinds of ill 
 Did with his liquor slide into his veins. 
 The drunkard forfets Man, and doth devest 
 All worldly right, save what he hath by beast. 
 
The Church Porch 
 
 VII 
 
 Shall I, to please another's wine-sprung minde, 
 Lose all mine own ? God hath giv'n me a measure 
 Short of his canne and bodie ; must I finde 
 A pain in that wherein he findes a pleasure ? 
 Stay at the third glasse ; if thou lose thy hold. 
 Then thou art modest, and the wine grows bold. 
 
 vin 
 
 If reason move not gallants, quit the room — 
 All in a shipwrack shift their severall way ; 
 Let not a common ruine thee intombe : 
 Be not a beast in courtesie, but stay, — 
 Stay at the third cup, or forgo the place : 
 Wine above all things doth God's stamp deface. 
 
 IX 
 
 Yet, if thou sinne in wine or wantonnesse. 
 
 Boast not thereof, nor make thy shame thy glorie. 
 
 Frailtie gets pardon by submissivenesse ; 
 
 But he that boasts shuts that out of his storie ; 
 He makes flat warre with God, and doth defie 
 With his poore clod of earth the spacious skie. 
 
 Take not His Name, Who made thy mouth, in vain ; 
 
 It gets thee nothing, and hath no excuse. 
 
 Lust and wine plead a pleasure, avarice gain ; 
 
 But the cheap swearer through his open sluce 
 Lets his soul runne for nought, as little fearing : 
 Were I an Epicure, I could bate swearing. 
 
10 The Temple 
 
 XI 
 
 When thou dost tell another's jest, therem 
 
 Omit the oathes, which true wit cannot need ; 
 
 Pick out of tales the mirth, but not the sinne ; 
 
 He pares his apple that will cleanly feed. 
 Play not away the vertue of that Name 
 Which is the best stake when griefs make thee tame. 
 
 xn 
 
 The cheapest sinnes most dearly punisht are, 
 Because to shun them also is so cheap ; 
 For we have wit to mark them, and to spare. 
 0, crumble not away thy soul's fair heap ! 
 
 If thou wilt die, the gates of hell are broad ; 
 
 Pride and full sinnes have made the way a road. 
 
 xm 
 
 Lie not ; but let thy heart be true to God, 
 Thy mouth to it, thy actions to them both : 
 Cowards tell lies, and those that fear the rod ; 
 The stormie-working soul spits lies and froth. 
 
 Dare to be true : nothing can need a ly ; 
 
 A fault, which needs it most, grows two thereby. 
 
 XIV 
 
 Flie idlenesse ; which yet thou canst not flie 
 By dressing, mistressing, and complement. 
 If those take up thy day, the sunne will crie 
 Against thee ; for his light was onely lent. 
 
 God gave thy soul brave wings ; put not those feathers 
 Into a bed, to sleep out all ill weathers. 
 
The Church Porch 11 
 
 XV 
 
 Art thou a magistrate ? then be severe : 
 If studious, copie fair what Time hath blurr'd, 
 Redeem truth from his jawes : if souldier, 
 Chase brave employments with a naked sword 
 Throughout the world. Fool not ; for all may have, 
 If they dare try, a glorious life, or grave. 
 
 XVI 
 
 England, full of sinne, but most of sloth ! 
 
 Spit out thy flegme, and fill thy breast with glorie. 
 
 Thy gentry bleats, as if thy native cloth 
 
 Transfus'd a sheepishnesse into thy storie ; 
 Not that they all are so, but that the most 
 Are gone to grasse, and in the pasture lost. 
 
 xvn 
 
 This losse springs chiefly from our education : 
 Some till their ground, but let weeds choke their sonne j 
 Some mark a partridge, never their childe's fashion ; 
 Some ship them over, and the thing is done. 
 
 Studie this art, make it thy great designe ; 
 
 And if God's image move thee not, let thine. 
 
 xvm 
 
 Some great estates provide, but do not breed 
 A mast'ririg minde ; so both are lost thereby. 
 Or els they breed them tender, make them need 
 All that they leave ; this is flat povertie : 
 For he that needs five thousand pound to live 
 Is full as poore as he that needs but five. 
 
12 The Temple 
 
 XIX 
 
 The way to make thy sonne rich is to fill 
 His minde with rest, before his trunk with riches : 
 For wealth without contentment climbes a hill, 
 To feel those tempests which fly over ditches ; 
 But if thy Sonne can make ten pound his measure. 
 Then all thou addest may be cali'd his treasure. 
 
 XX 
 
 When thou dost purpose ought within thy power. 
 Be sure to doe it, though it be but small ; 
 Constancie knits the bones, and makes us stowre 
 When wanton pleasures becken, us to thrall. 
 
 Who breaks his own bond forfeiteth himself ; 
 
 What nature made a ship, he makes a shelf. 
 
 XXI 
 
 Doe all things like a man, not sneakingly ; 
 Think the king sees thee still ; for his King does. 
 Simpring is but a lay-hypocrisie ; 
 Give it a corner, and the clue undoes. 
 
 Who fears to do ill sets himself to task ; 
 
 Who fears to do well sure should wear a mask. 
 
 xxn 
 
 Look to thy mouth ; diseases enter there. 
 Thou hast two sconses : if thy stomack call. 
 Carve, or discourse ; do not a famine fear : 
 Who carves is kind to two ; who talks, to all. 
 Look on meat, think it dirt, then eat a bit. 
 And say withall,— ' Earth to earth I commit.' 
 
The Church Porch 13 
 
 XXIII 
 
 Slight those who say, amidst their sickly healths, 
 ' Thou liv'st by rule.' What doth not so but man ? 
 Houses are built by rule, and Common- Wealths. 
 Entice the trusty sunne, if that you can, 
 
 Prom his echptick line ; becken the skie ! 
 
 Who lives by rule, then, keeps good companie. 
 
 XXIV 
 
 Who keeps no guard upon himself is slack. 
 And rots to nothing at the next great thaw. 
 Man is a shop of rules, a well-truss'd pack. 
 Whose every parcell under-writes a law. 
 
 Loose not thyself, nor give thy humours way ; 
 
 God gave them to thee under lock and key. 
 
 XXV 
 
 By all means use sometimes to be alone ', 
 Salute thyself ; see what thy soul doth wear ; 
 Dare to look in thy chest, for 'tis thine own. 
 And tumble up and down what thou find'st there : 
 Who cannot rest till he good-fellows finde. 
 He breaks up house, turns out of doores his minde. 
 
 XXVI 
 
 Be thrifty, but not covetous : therefore give 
 
 Thy need, thine honour, and thy friend his due. 
 
 Never was scraper brave man. Get to live ; 
 
 Then live, and use it ; els it is not true 
 That thou hast gotten. Surely use alone 
 Makes money not a contemptible stone. 
 
14 The Temple 
 
 xxvn 
 
 Never exceed thy income. Youth may make 
 Ev'n with the yeare ; but Age, if it will hit, 
 Shoots a bow short, and lessens stUl his stake, 
 As the day lessens, and his life with it. 
 
 Thy children, kindred, friends upon thee call, 
 Before thy journey fairly part with all. 
 
 xxvrn 
 
 Yet in thy thriving still misdoubt some evil, 
 Lest gaining gain on thee, and make thee dimme 
 To all things els. Wealth is the conjurer's devil. 
 Whom when he thinks he hath, the devil hath him. 
 Gold thou mayst safely touch ; but if it stick 
 Unto thy hands, it woundeth to the quick. 
 
 XXIX 
 
 What skills it, if a bag of stones or gold 
 About thy neck do drown thee ? Raise thy head ; 
 Take starres for money, — starres not to be told 
 By any art, yet to be purchased. 
 
 None is so wastfull as the scraping dame ; 
 
 Shee loseth three for one, — ^her souJ, rest, fame. 
 
 XXX 
 
 By no means runne in debt : take thine own measure : 
 Who cannot live on twentie pound a yeare, 
 Cannot on fourtie ; he's a man of pleasure, 
 A kinde of thing that's for itself too deere. 
 The curious unthrift makes his cloth too wide. 
 And spares himself, but would his taylor chide. 
 
The Church Porch 15 
 
 XXXI 
 
 Spend not on hopes. They that by pleading-clothes 
 Do fortunes seek when worth and service faU, 
 Would have their tale beleeved for their oathes, 
 And are like empty vessels under sail. 
 
 Old courtiers know this : therefore set out so. 
 As all the day thou mayst hold out to go. 
 
 XXXII 
 
 In clothes, cheap handsomenesse doth bear the bell ; 
 
 Wisedome's a trimmer thing then shop e'er gave. 
 
 Say not then, ' This with that lace will do well ' : 
 
 But, ' This with my discretion will be brave.' 
 Much curiousnesse is a perpetuall wooing 
 Nothing with labour, folly long a-doing. 
 
 xxxni 
 
 Play not for gain, but sport. Who playes for more 
 Then he can lose with pleasure, stakes his heart ; 
 Perhaps his wive's too, and whom she hath bore : 
 Servants and churches also play their part. 
 Onely a herauld, who that way doth passe, 
 Findes his crakt name at length in the church-glasse. 
 
 XXXIV 
 
 If yet thou love game at so deere a rate, 
 Learn this, that hath old gamesters deerly cost : 
 Dost lose ? rise up ; dost winne ? rise in that state : 
 Who strive to sit out losing hands are lost. 
 Game is a civil gunpowder, in peace 
 Blowing up houses with their whole increase, 
 
16 The Temple 
 
 XXXV 
 
 "^n conversation boldnesse now bears sway : 
 But know, that nothing can so fooUsh be 
 As empty boldnesse : therefore first assay 
 To stufEe thy minde with solid braverie; 
 
 Then march on gallant : get substantial! worth ; 
 
 Boldnesse guilds finely, and will set it forth. 
 
 XXXVI 
 
 Be sweet to all. Is thy complexion sowre ? 
 
 Then keep such companie ; make them thy allay ; 
 
 Get a sharp wife, a servant that will lowre : 
 
 A stumbler stumbles least in rugged way. 
 
 Command thy self in chief. He life's warre knovs. 
 Whom all his passions follow as he goes. 
 
 yx X VII 
 
 Catch not at quarrels. He that dares not speak 
 Plainly and home is coward of the two. 
 Think not thy fame at ev'ry twitch will break; 
 By great deeds show that thou canst little do, — 
 
 And do them not ; that shall thy wisdome be ; 
 
 And change thy temperance into braverie. 
 
 xxxvm 
 
 If that thy fame with ev'ry toy be pos'd, 
 'Tis a thinne web, which poysonous fancies make. 
 But the great souldier's honour was compos'd 
 Of thicker stuffe, which would endure a shake. 
 Wisdome picks friends ; civilitie playes the rest : 
 A toy shunn'd cleanly passeth with the best. 
 
The Church Porch 17 
 
 XXXIX 
 
 Laugh not too much ; the wittie man laughs least ; 
 
 For wit is newes only to ignorance. 
 
 Lesse at thine own thiiigs laugh, lest in the jest 
 
 Thy person share, and the conceit advance : 
 Make not thy sport abuses ; for the fly 
 That feeds on dung is coloured thereby. 
 
 XL 
 
 Pick out of mirth, like stones out of thy ground, 
 
 Profanenesse, filthinesse, abusivenesse ; 
 
 These are the scumme, with which course wits abound : 
 
 The fine may spare these well, yet not go lesse. 
 All things are bigge with jest ; nothing that's plain 
 But may be wittie, it thou hast the vein. 
 
 XLI 
 
 Wit's an unruly engine, wildly striking 
 
 Sometimes a friend, sometimes the engineer ; 
 
 Hast thou the knack ? pamper it not with liking ; 
 
 But if thou want it, buy it not too deere. 
 Many afEecting wit beyond their power 
 Have got to be a deare fool for an houre. 
 
 xLn 
 
 A sad wise valour is the brave complexion 
 That leads the van and swallowes up the cities. 
 The giggler is a milkmaid, whom infection 
 Or a fir'd beacon frighteth from his ditties : 
 Then he's the sport ; the mirth then in him rests, 
 And the sad man ig cook of all his jests. 
 
18 The Temple 
 
 xLin 
 
 Towards great persons use respective boldnesse ; 
 That temper gives them theirs, and yet doth take 
 Nothing from thine ; in service, care or coldnesse 
 Doth ratably thy fortunes marre or make. 
 Feed no man in his sinnes ; for adulation 
 Doth make thee parcell-devil in damnation. 
 
 XLIV 
 
 Envie not greatnesse ; for thou mak'st thereby 
 Thyself the worse, and so the distance greater. 
 Be not thine own worm ; yet such jealousie 
 As hurts not others, but may make thee better, 
 
 Is a good spurre. Correct thy passions' spite ; 
 
 Then may the beasts draw thee to happy light. 
 
 XLV 
 
 When basenesse is exalted, do not bate 
 The place its honour for the person's sake ; 
 The shrine is that which thou dost venerate. 
 And not the beast that bears it on his back. 
 I care not though the cloth of state should be 
 Not of rich arras but mean tapestrie. 
 
 XLVI 
 
 Thy friend put in thy bosome ; wear his eies 
 Still in thy heart, that he may see what 's there. 
 If cause require thou art his sacrifice. 
 Thy drops of bloud must pay down all his fear ; 
 But love is lost, the way of friendship's gone. 
 Though David had his Jonathan, Christ his John. 
 
I%e Church Porch 19 
 
 XLVII 
 
 Yet be not surety, if thou be a father : 
 Love is a personall debt, I cannot give 
 My children's right, nor ought he take it : rather 
 Both friends should die then hinder them to live. 
 Fathers first enter bonds to Nature's ends. 
 And are her sureties ere they are a friend's. 
 
 xLvin 
 
 If thou be single, all thy goods and ground 
 Submit to love ; but yet not more then aU : 
 Give one estate, as one life. None is bound 
 To work for two, who brought himself to thrall. 
 God made me one man ; love makes me no more. 
 Till labour come and make my weaknesse score. 
 
 XIJX 
 
 In thy discourse, if thou desire to please. 
 All such is courteous, usefull, new, or wittie : 
 Usefulnesse comes by labour, wit by ease ; 
 Courtesie grows in Court, news in the citie : 
 Get a good stock of these, then draw the card 
 That suites him best, of whom thy speech is heard. 
 
 Entice all neatly to what they know best ; 
 For BO thou dost thyself and him a pleasure ; — 
 But a proud ignorance wiU lose his rest. 
 Rather then shew his cards ; — steal from his treasure 
 What to ask further : doubts well-rais'd do lock 
 The speaker to thee, and preserve thy stock. 
 C2 
 
20 Tlie Temple 
 
 LI 
 
 If thou be master-gunner, spend not all 
 That thou canst speak at once, but husband it. 
 And give men turns of speech ; do not forestall 
 By lavishnesse thine own and others' wit, 
 As if thou mad'st thy \dll : a civil guest 
 Will no more talk all then eat all the feast. 
 
 Ln 
 
 Be calm in arguing ; for fiercenesse makes 
 
 Errour a fault, and truth discourtesie. 
 
 Why should I feel another man's mistakes 
 
 More then his sicknesses or povertie ? 
 In love I should ; but anger is not love, 
 Nor wisdome neither ; therefore gently move. 
 
 mi 
 
 Calmnesse is great advantage ; he that lets 
 Another chafe, may waim him at his fire, 
 Mark all his wandi'ings, and enjoy his frets, 
 As cunning fencera suffer heat to tiio. 
 Truth dwels not in the clouds ; the bow that's there 
 Doth often aim at, never hit the sphere. 
 
 LIV 
 
 Mark wliat another sayes ; for many are 
 Full of themselves, and answer their own notion. 
 Take all into thee ; then with squall care 
 Ballance each dramme of reason, like a potion. 
 If truth be with thy friend, be witli them both, 
 Share in the conquest, and confesse a troth. 
 
The Church Ponh 21 
 
 LV 
 
 Be useful where thou livest, that they may 
 Both want and wisli thy pleasing presence still. 
 Kindnesse, good parta, great places, are tlie way 
 To compasse tJiis. Finde out men's wants and will. 
 
 And meet them there. All worldly joyes go lesse 
 
 To the one joy of doing kindnesses. 
 
 LVI 
 
 Pitch thy behaviour low, thy projects high; 
 So slitUt thou humble and magnanimous be : 
 Sink not in spirit ; who aimeth at the sky 
 Shoots higher much then he that means a tree. 
 A grain of glorie mixt with humblenesse 
 Cures both a fever and lethargicknesse. 
 
 Lvn 
 
 Let thy mind still be bent, still plotting where 
 And when and how the businesse may be done. 
 Slacknesse breeds worms ; but tie sure traveller. 
 Though he alight sometimes, still goeth on. 
 
 Active and stirring spirits live alone ; 
 
 Write on the others 'Here ues sttch a oxe.' 
 
 Lvm 
 
 Slight not the smallest losse, whether it bo 
 In love Of honour ; take accoimt of all : 
 Shine like the sunne in every comer : see 
 Whether thy stock of credit swell or fall. 
 Who say ' I care not,' tliose I give for lost. 
 And to instruct them 'twill not quit the cost. 
 
22 The Temple 
 
 LIX 
 
 Scorn no man's love, though of a mean degree,- 
 Love is a present for a mightie king ; 
 Much lesse make any one thine enemie : 
 As gunnes destroy, so may a little sling. 
 The curming workman never doth refuse 
 The meanest tool that he may chance to use. 
 
 liX 
 
 All forrain wisdome doth amount to this. 
 To take all that is given, whether wealth. 
 Or love, or language ; nothing comes amisse ; 
 A good digestion tumeth aU to health : 
 And then, as farre as fair behaviour may. 
 Strike off aU scores ; none are so cleare as they. 
 
 LXI 
 
 Keep aU thy native good, and naturalize 
 AU forrain of that name ; but scorn their ill ; 
 Embrace their activenesse, not vanities : 
 Who foUows aU things, forfeiteth his will. 
 If thou observest strangers in each fit, 
 In time they'l runne thee out of all thy wit. 
 
 Lxn 
 
 Affect in things about thee cleanlinesse, 
 That all may gladly board thee, as a flowre. 
 Slovens take up their stock of noisomenesse 
 Beforehand, and anticipate their last houre. 
 Let thy minde's -eweetnesse have his operation 
 Upon thy body, clothes, and habitation. 
 
The amrch Porch 23 
 
 Lxm 
 
 In alines regard thy meanes and others' merit ; 
 
 Think heav'n a better bargain then to give 
 
 Onely thy single maiket-money for it ; 
 
 Joyn hands with God to make a man to live. 
 Give to all something ; to a good poore man 
 Till thou change names, and be where he began. 
 
 LXIV 
 
 Man is God's image ; but a poore man is a 
 Christ's stamp to boot; both images regard. ^ 
 God reckons for him, count the favour His ; «v. 
 Write ' So much giv'n to God ' : thou shalt be heard. 
 Let thy almes goe before and keep heav'n's gate ^ 
 Open for thee ; or both may come too late. ^ 
 
 LXV 
 
 Restore to God His due in tithe and time ; 
 
 A tithe purloin'd cankers the whole estate. 
 
 Sundaies observe; think when the bells do chime, 
 
 'Tis angels' musick ; therefore come not late. 
 Crod then deals blessings : if a king did so. 
 Who would not haste, nay give, to see the show ? 
 
 LXVI 
 
 Twice on that day His due is understood ; 
 For all the week thy food so oft He gave thee. 
 Thy cheere is mended ; bate not of the food. 
 Because 'tis better, and perhaps may save thee. 
 
 Thwart not th' Almighty God : O, be not crosse ! 
 
 Past when thou wilt ; but then 'tis gain, not losse. 
 
24 The Temple 
 
 LXVII 
 
 Though private prayer be a brave designe, 
 Yet publick hath more promises, more love ; 
 And love's a weight to hearts, to eies a signe. 
 We all are but cold suitours ; let us move 
 
 Where it is warmest : leave thy six and seven ; 
 
 Pray with the most, for where most pray is heaven. 
 
 Lxvin 
 
 '/ When once thy foot enters the Church, be bare; 
 God is more there then thou ; for thou art there 
 Onely by His permission : then beware. 
 And make thyself all reverence and fear. 
 
 KneeUng ne're spoil'd silk stocking ; quit thy state ; 
 
 All equall are within the Churche's gate. 
 
 Lxrx 
 
 Resort to sermons, but to prayers most : 
 Praying's the end of preaching. 0, be drest ; 
 Stay not for th' other pin ! Wliy, thou hast lost 
 A joy for it worth worlds. Thus Hell doth jest 
 
 Away thy blessings, and extreamly flout thee ; 
 
 Thy clothes being fast, but thy soul loose about thee. 
 
 LXX 
 
 In time of service seal up both thine eies, 
 And send them to thine heart, that, spying sinne, 
 They may weep out the stains by them did rise : 
 Those doores being shut, all by the eare comes in. 
 Who marks in church-time others' symmetrie 
 Makes all their beautie his deformitie. 
 
The Church Porch 25 
 
 LXXI 
 
 Let vain or busie thoughts have there no part; 
 Bring not thy plough, thy plots, thy pleasures thither. 
 Christ purged His temple ; so must thou thy heart : 
 All worldly thoughts are but theeves met together 
 
 To couzin thee. Look to thy actions well ; 
 
 For churches are either our Heav'n or Hell. 
 
 LXXII 
 
 Judge not the preacher, for He is thy judge; 
 If thou mislike him, thou conceiv'st Him not : 
 God calleth preaching folly : do not grudge 
 To pick out treasures from an earthen pot : 
 The worst speak something good ; if all want sense, 
 God takes a text, and preacheth patience. 
 
 Lxxm 
 
 He that gets patience, and the blessing which 
 Preachers conclude with, hath not lost his pains. 
 He that by being at Church escapes the ditch 
 Which he might fall in by companions, gains. 
 He that loves God's abode, and to combine 
 With saints on earth, shall one day with them shine. 
 
 LXXIV 
 
 Jest not at preacher's language or expression : 
 How know'st thou but thy sinnes made him miscarrie ? 
 Then turn thy faults and his into confession : 
 God sent him, whatsoe'er he be ; 0, tarry. 
 And love him for his Master ; his condition, 
 Though it be ill, makes him no ill physician. 
 
26 Tlie Temple 
 
 LXXV 
 
 None shall in Hell such bitter pangs endure 
 As those who mock at God's way of salvation : 
 Whom oil and balsames kill, what salve can cure ? 
 They drink with greedinesse a full damnation. 
 
 The Jews refused thunder, and we folly ; 
 
 Though God do hedge us in, yet who is holy ? 
 
 LXXVI 
 
 Summe up at night what thou hast done by day, 
 And in the morning what thou hast to do ; 
 Dresse and undresse thy soul ; mark the decay 
 And growth of it ; if with thy watch that too 
 Be down, then winde up both : since we shall be 
 Most surely judg'd, make thy accounts agree. 
 
 Lxxvn 
 
 In brief, acquit thee bravely, play the man : 
 Look not on pleasures as they come, but go ; 
 Deferre not the least vertue : life's poore span 
 Make not an ell by trifling iu thy wo. 
 
 If thou do iU, the joy fades, not the pains ; 
 
 If wellj the pain doth fade, the joy remains. 
 
The Church 27 
 
 III. SUPERLIMINAKE 
 
 Thott whom the former precepts have 
 Sprinkled, and taught how to behave 
 Thy seK in Church, approach and taste 
 The Churche's mysticall repast. 
 
 Avoid, peofanenessb ! come not heee : 
 NoTHma BUT holy, ptjrb, and cleaee, 
 Or that which geoneth to be so, 
 May at his peeill puetheb go. 
 
 IV. THE CHURCH 
 
 THE ALTAR 
 
 A broken Altar, Lord, Thy servant reares, 
 
 Made of a heart, and cemented with teares. 
 
 Whose parts are as Thy hand did 
 
 frame ; 
 No workman's tool hath touch'd 
 the same. 
 A heart alone 
 Is such a stone 
 As nothing but 
 Thy power doth cut. 
 Wherefore each part 
 Of my hard heart — 
 Meets in this frarne, 
 To praise Thy name : 
 That, it I chance to hold my peace. 
 These stones to praise Thee may 
 not cease. 
 0, let Thy blessM Sacrifice be mine. 
 And sanctifie this Altar to be Thine ! 
 
28 Tlie Temple 
 
 THE SACRIFICE 
 
 O USL ye y?ho passe by, whose eyes and minde 
 To worldly things are sharp, but to Me blinde — 
 To Me, Who took eyes that I might you finde : 
 Was ever grief like Mine ? 
 
 The prinSes of My people make a head 
 Against their Maker : they do wish Me dead, 
 Who cannot wish, except I give them bread : 
 Was ever grief like Mine ? 
 
 Without Me, each one who doth now Me brave 
 Had to this day been an Egyptian slave; 
 J They use that power against Me which I gave : 
 Was ever grief like Mine \ 
 
 Mine own Apostle who the bag did beare. 
 Though he had all I had, did not forbeare 
 To sell Me also, and to put Me there : 
 
 Was ever grief like ]\Iine ? 
 
 For thirtie pence he did My death devise 
 Who at three hundred did the ointment prize, 
 Not half so sweet as My sweet sacrifice : 
 
 Was ever grief like Mine ? 
 
 Therefore My soul melts, and My heiirt's deare treasure 
 Drops bloud, the only beads My words to measure : 
 Oh, let this cup passe, if it be Thy pleasure : 
 Was ever grief like Mine ? 
 
 These drops being temper'd with a sinner's tears, 
 A balsome are for both the hemispheres, 
 Curing all wounds but mine, all but My fears^ 
 Was ever grief like Mine ? 
 
Tlie Sacrifice 29 
 
 Yet My disciples sleep ; I cannot gain 
 One houre of watching ; but their drowsie brain 
 Comforts not Me, and doth My doctrine stain : 
 Was ever grief like Mine ? 
 
 ' Arise ! arise ! they come ! ' Look how they runne ! 
 Alas, what haste they make to be undone ! 
 How with their lanterns do they seek the sunne ! 
 Was ever grief like Mine ? 
 
 With clubs and staves they seek Me as a thief, 
 Who am the way of truth, the true relief. 
 Most true to those who are My greatest grief : ; 
 Was ever grief like Mine ? 
 
 Judas, dost thou betray Me with a kisse 1 
 Canst thou iinde hell about My lips, and misse 
 Of life just at the gates of life and blisse ? 
 
 Was ever grief like Mine ? 
 
 See, they layjiold on Me, not with the hands 
 Of faith, but furie ; yet at their commands 
 I suffer binding, Who have loos'd their bands : - 
 Was ever grief like Mine ? 
 
 All My disciples flie ; fear puts a barre 
 Bet^vixt My friends and Me : they leave the starre 
 That brought the wise men of the East from farre : 
 Was ever grief like Mine ? 
 
 Then from one ruler to another, bound 
 They leade Me, urging that it was not sound 
 What I taught ; comments would the text confound : 
 Was ever grief like Mine ? 
 
 The Priest and rulers all false witnesse seek 
 'Gainst Him Who seeks not life, but is the meek 
 And readie Paschal Lambe of this great week : 
 Was ever grief like Mine ? 
 
30 The Temple 
 
 Then they accuse Me of great blasphemie. 
 That I did thrust into the Deitie, 
 Who never thought tiiat any robberie : 
 
 Was ever grief like Mine ? 
 
 Some said that I the Temgle to the floore 
 In three days raz'd, and raised as before : 
 Why, He that built the world can do much more: 
 Was ever grief like Mine ? 
 
 Then they condemne Me all, with that same breath 
 Which I do give them daily, unto death ; 
 Thus Adam my first breathing rendereth : 
 
 Was ever grief like Mine ? 
 They binde and leade Me unto Herod; he 
 Sends Me to Pilate : this makes them agree ; 
 But yet their friendship is My enmitie : 
 
 Was ever grief like Mine ? 
 Herod and aU his bands do set Me light. 
 Who teach all hands to warre, fingers to fight. 
 And onely am the Lord of hosts and might : 
 
 Was ever grief like Mine ? 
 
 Herod in judgement sits, while I do stand. 
 Examines Me with a censorious hand ; 
 I him obey. Who all things else command : 
 Was ever grief like Mine 1 
 
 The Jews accuse Me with despitefulnesse. 
 And, vying malice with My gentlenesse, 
 Pick quarrels with their onely happinesse : 
 
 Was ever grief like Mine ? 
 I answer nothing, but with patience prove 
 If stony hearts wiU melt with gentle love : 
 But who doea hawk at eagles with a dove ? 
 
 Was ever grief like Mine ? 
 
The Sacrifice 31 
 
 My silence rather doth augment their crie ; 
 My dove doth back into My bosome flie, 
 Because the raging waters still are high : 
 
 Was ever grief like Mine ? 
 
 Hark how they crie aloud still, CruoifieX_ 
 It is not fit He live a day ! they crie, 
 Who cannot live lesse then eternally : 
 
 Was ever grief like Mine ? 
 
 Pilate, a stranger, holdeth off ; but they. 
 Mine own deare people, cry. Away, away ! 
 With noises confusdd frighting the day : 
 
 Was ever grief like Mine ? 
 
 Yet still they shout, and crie, and stop their eares, 
 Putting My life among their sinnes and fears, 
 And therefore wish my bloud on them and theirs : 
 Was ever grief like Mine 1 
 
 See how spite cankers things ! — these words, aright 
 Used and wished, are the whole world's light ; 
 But hony is their gall, brightnesse their night : 
 Was ever grief like Mine 1 
 
 They choose a murderer, and all agree 
 
 In him to do themselves a courtesie ; 
 
 For it was their own cause who killM Me : 
 
 Was ever grief like Mine ? 
 
 And a seditious murderer he was ; 
 But I the Prince of Peace, — ^peace that doth passe 
 All understanding more then heav'n doth glasse : 
 Was ever grief like Mine ? 
 
 Why, Cesar is their onely king, not I. 
 
 He clave the stonie rock when they were drie. 
 
 But surely not their hearts, as I well trie : 
 
 Was ever grief like Mine ? 
 
32 The Temple 
 
 Ah, how they scourge Me ! yet my tendernesse 
 Doubles each lash : and yet their bitternesse 
 Windes up My grief to a mysteriousnesse : 
 
 Was ever grief like Mine ? 
 
 They buffet Me and box Me as they list, 
 Who grasp the earth and heaven with My fist,' 
 And never yet whom I would punish miss'd : 
 Was ever grief like Mine ? 
 
 Behold, they spit on Me in scornfull wise. 
 Who by My spittle gave the blinde man eies, 
 Leaving his blindnesse to Mine enemies : 
 
 Was ever grief like Mine ? 
 
 My face they cover, though it be divine : 
 As Moses' face was vailed, so is Mine, 
 Lest on their double-dark souls either shine : 
 Was ever grief like Mine ? 
 
 Servants and abjects flout Me, they are wittie ; 
 ' Now prophesie who strikes Thee,' is their dittie ; 
 So they in Me denie themselves all pitie : 
 
 Was ever grief like Mine ? 
 
 And now I am deliver'd unto death ; 
 
 Which each one calls for so with utmost breath, 
 
 That he before Me well-nigh sufEereth : 
 
 Was ever grief like Mine ? 
 
 Weep not, deare friends, since I for both have wept 
 When all My tears were bloud, the while you slept : 
 Your tears for your own fortunes should be kept : 
 Was ever grief like Mine ? 
 
 The souldiers lead Me to the common-hall : 
 There they deride Me, they abuse Me all ; 
 Yet for twelve heav'nly legions I could call : 
 Was ever grief like Mine ? 
 
The, Sacrifice 33 
 
 Then with a scarlet robe they Me aray. 
 Which shews My bloud to be the onely way, 
 And cordiall left to repair man's decay : 
 
 Was ever grief Kke Mine ? 
 
 Then on My head a crown of thorns I wear ; 
 For these are aU the grapes Sion doth bear. 
 Though I My vine planted and watred there : 
 Was ever grief like Mine ? 
 
 So sits the Earth's great curse in Adam's fall 
 Upon My head ; so I remove it all 
 From th' earth unto My brows, and bear the thrall : 
 Was ever grief like Mine ? 
 
 Then with the reed they gave to Me before 
 
 They strike My head, the rock from whence all store 
 
 Of heav'nly blessings issue evermore : 
 
 Was ever grief like Mine ? 
 
 They bow their knees to Me, and cry, ' HaU, King ! ' 
 What ever scoffes or scornfulnesse can bring, 
 I am the.floore, the sink, where they it fling : 
 Was ever grief like Mine 1 
 
 Yet since man's scepters are as frail as reeds. 
 And thorny all their crowns, bloudie their weeds, 
 I, Who am Truth, turn into truth their deeds : ? 
 Was ever grief like Mine ? 
 
 The souldiers also spit upon that Face 
 Which angels did desire to have the grace. 
 And prophets, once to see, but found no place : 
 Was ever grief like Mine ? 
 
 Thus trimmed forth they bring Me to the rout. 
 Who ' Crucifie Him ! ' crie with one strong shout. 
 God holds His peace at man, and man cries out : 
 Was ever grief like Mine ? 
 
34 The Temple 
 
 They leade Me in once more, and putting then 
 Mine own clothes on, they leade Me out agen. 
 Whom devils flie, thus is He togs'd of men :J 
 Was ever grief like Mine ? 
 
 And now wearie of sport, glad to ingrosse > 
 All spite in one, counting My life their losse, 
 They carrie Me to My most bitter crosse : 
 
 Was ever grief like Mine 1 
 
 My crosse I bear My self, untill I faint: 
 Then Simon bears it for Me by constraint, — 
 The decreed burden of each mortal saint : 
 
 Was ever grief like Mine ? 
 
 0, all ye who passe by, behold and see : 
 
 Man stole the fruit, but I must climbe the tree, — 
 
 The tree of life to all but onely Me : J 
 
 Was ever grief like Mine ? 
 Lo, here I hang, charg'd with a world of sinne. 
 The greater world o' th' two ; for that came in 
 By words, but this by sorrow I must win : 
 
 Was ever grief like Mine ? 
 Such sorrow as if sinfull man could feel. 
 Or feel his part, he would not cease to kneel 
 Till all were melted, though he were all steel : 
 
 Was ever grief like Mine ? 
 
 But, My God, My God, why leav'st Thou Me, 
 The Sonne in Whom Thou dost deHght to be ? 
 My God, My God 
 
 Never was grief like Mine. 
 Shame tears My soul, My bodie many a wound; 
 Sharp nails pierce tliis, but sharper that confound,- 
 Reproches which are free, while I am bound : 
 
 Was ever grief like Mine ? 
 
The Sacrifice 35 
 
 ' Now heal Thyself, Physician ; now come down.' 
 Alas, I did so, when I left My crown 
 And Father's smile for you, to feel His frown : 
 Was ever grief like Mine ? 
 
 In heaUng not Myself there doth consist 
 All that salvation which ye now resist ; 
 Your safetie in My sicknesse doth subsist : • 
 Was ever grief like Mine ? 
 
 Betwixt two theoves I spend My utmost breath. 
 As he that for some robberie sufiereth : 
 Alas, what have I stollen from you 1 death : "1 
 Was ever grief like Mine ? 
 
 A king My title is, prefixt on high ; 
 
 Yet by My subjects am condemn'd to die 
 
 A servile death in servile companie : 
 
 Was ever grief like Mine ? 
 
 They gave Me vinegar mingled with gall. 
 
 But more with malice : yet, when they did caU, 
 
 With manna, angels' food, I fed them all : 
 
 Was ever grief like Mine ? 
 
 They part My garments, and by lot dispose 
 
 My coat, the type of love, which once cur'd those 
 
 Who sought for help, never malicious foes : 
 
 Was ever grief like Mine ? 
 
 Nay, after death their spite shall further go ; 
 For they will pierce My side, I full well know ; 
 That as sinne came, so Sacraments might flow : 
 Was ever grief like Mine ? 
 
 But now I die ; now all is finished ; 
 
 My wo man's weal, and now I bow My head : 
 
 Onely let others say, when I am dead. 
 
 Never was grief like Mine. 
 d2 
 
36 The Temple 
 
 THE THAMCSGIVmG 
 
 Oh King of grief — a title strange, yet true, 
 
 To Thee of all kings onely due — 
 Oh King of wounds, how shall I grieve for Thee, 
 
 Who in all grief preventest me ? 
 Shall I weep bloud ? why. Thou hast wept such store, 
 
 That all Thy body was one doore. ; 
 Shall I be scourged, flouted, boxed, sold ? 
 
 'Tis but to tell the tale is told. 
 ' My God, My God, why dost Thou part from Me ? ' 
 
 Was such a grief as cannot be. 
 Shall I, then, sing, skipping Thy dolefull storie. 
 
 And side with Thy triumphant glorie ? 
 Shall Thy strokes be my stroking ? thorns my flower ? 
 
 Thy rod my posie 1 crosse my bower 1 
 But how, then, shall I imitate Thee, and 
 
 Copie Thy fair though bloudie hand ? 
 Surely I will revenge me on Thy love. 
 
 And trie who shall victorious prove. 
 If Thou dost give me wealth, I wUl restore 
 
 AU back unto Thee by the poore. 
 If Thou dost give me honour, men shall see 
 
 The honour doth belong to Thee. 
 I will not marry ; or, if she be mine. 
 
 She and her children shall.be Thine. 
 My bosome-friend, if he blaspheme Thy name, 
 
 I will tear thence his love and fame. 
 One haK of me being gone, the rest I give 
 
 Unto some chapell, die or live. 
 As for Thy passion — But of that anon. 
 
 When with the other I have done. 
 
The Thanksgiving 37 
 
 For Thy predestination, I'le contrive 
 
 That three years hence, if I survive, 
 rie build a spittle, or mend common wayes. 
 
 But mend mine own without delayes. 
 Then I will use the works of Thy creation. 
 
 As if I us'd them but for fashion. 
 The world and I will quarreU ; and the yeare 
 
 Shall not perceive that I am here. 
 My musick shall find Thee, and ev'ry string 
 
 Shall have his attribute to sing ; 
 That all together may accord in Thee, 
 
 And prove one God, one harmonic. 
 If Thou shalt give me wit, it shaD appearc, 
 
 K Thou hast giv'n it me, 'tis here. 
 Nay, I win reade Thy Booke, and never move 
 
 TiU I have found therein Thy love, 
 Thy art of love, which I'le turn back on Tliee : 
 
 my deare Saviour, Victorie ! 
 Then for Thy passion ; I will do for that-^^ 
 
 Alas, my God, I know not what. 
 
 THE REPRISALL 
 
 I HAVE consider'd it, and finde 
 There is no dealing with Thy mighty Passion; 
 For though I die for Thee, I am behinde ; 
 
 My sinnes deserve the condemnation. 
 
 0, make me innocent, that I 
 May give a disentangled state and free ; 
 And yet Thy wounds still my attempts defie. 
 
 For by Thy death I die for Thee. 
 
38 The Temple 
 
 Ah, was it not enough that Thou 
 By Thy eternall glorie didst outgo me 1 
 Couldst Thou not Grief's sad conquests me allow, 
 
 But in all vict'ries overthrow me ? 
 
 Yet by confession will I come 
 Into the conquest. Though I can do nought 
 Against Thee, in Thee I will overcome 
 
 The man who once against Thee fought. 
 
 ' THE AGONIE 
 
 Philosophers have measur'd mountains, 
 Fathom'd the depths of seas, of states, and kings ; 
 Walk'd with a stafEe to heav'n, and traced fountains : 
 
 But there are two vast, spacious things. 
 The which to measure it doth more behove ; 
 Yet few there are that sound them, — Sinne and Love. 
 
 Who would know Sinne, let him repair 
 Unto Mount Olivet ; there shall he see 
 A Man so wrung with pains, that all His hair, 
 
 His skinne. His garments bloudie be. 
 Sinne is that presse and vice, which forceth pain 
 To hunt his cruell food through ev'ry vein. 
 
 Who knows hot Love, let him assay 
 And taste that juice which, on the crosse, a pike 
 Did set again abroach ; then let him say 
 
 If ever he did taste the like. 
 Love is that liquor sweet and most divine, 
 Which my God feels as bloud, but I as wine. 
 
The Sinner 39 
 
 THE SINNER 
 
 Lord, how I am all ague when I seek 
 What I have treasur'd in my memorie ! 
 
 Since, if my soul make even with the week, 
 Each seventh note by right is due to Thee. 
 
 I finde there quarries of pil'd vanities, 
 But shreds of holinesse, that dare not venture 
 
 To shew their face, since crosse to Thy decrees : 
 There the circumference earth is, heav'n the centre. 
 
 In so much dregs the quintessence is small ; 
 The spirit and good extract of my heart 
 Comes to about the many hundredth part. 
 
 Yet, Lord, restore Thine image ; heare my call ; 
 And though my hard heart scarce to Thee can grone. 
 Remember that Thou once didst write in stone. 
 
 GOOD-FRIDAY 
 
 MY chief good. 
 How shall I measure out Thy bloud ? 
 How shall I count what Thee befell. 
 
 And each grief tell ? 
 
 ShaU I Thy woes 
 Number according to Thy foes ? 
 Or, since one starre show'd Thy first breath. 
 
 Shall all Thy death ? 
 
 Or shall each leaf 
 Which falls in Autumne score a grief ? 
 Or cannot leaves, but fruit, be signe 
 
 Of the True Vine 1 
 
40 The Temple 
 
 Then let each houre 
 Of my whole life one grief devoure, 
 That Thy distresse through all may runne, 
 
 And be my sunne. 
 
 Or rather let 
 My sev'raU sinnes their sorrows get, 
 That as each beast his cure doth know, 
 
 Each sinne may so. 
 
 Since bloud is fittest, Lord, to write 
 Thy sorrows in and bloudie fight, 
 My heart hath store, write there, where in 
 One box doth lie both ink and sinne : 
 
 That when Sinne spies so many foes, 
 Thy whips. Thy nails. Thy wounds. Thy woes, 
 AH come to lodge there, Sinne may say, 
 'No room for me,' and flie away. 
 
 Sinne being gone, 0, fill the place. 
 And keep possession with Thy grace ; 
 Lest sinne take courage, and return. 
 And all the writings blot or burn. 
 
 REDEMPTION 
 
 Having been tenant long to a rich Lord, 
 Not thriving, I resolved to be bold. 
 
 And make a suit unto Him, to afford < 
 A new smaU-rented lease, and cancell th' old. 
 
 In heaven at His manour I Him sought : 
 They told me there, that He was lately gone 
 
 About some land, which he had dearly bought 
 Long since on Earth, to take possession. ;, 
 
Redemption 41 
 
 I straight return'd, and knowing His great birth,. 
 Sought Him accordingly in great resorts — 
 In cities, theatres, gardens, parks, and courts :, ; 
 
 At length I heard a ragged noise and mirth - 
 
 Of theeves and murderers ; there I Him espied. 
 Who straight, ' Your suit is granted,' said, and died. 
 
 SEPULCHRE 
 
 BLESSED bodie, whither art Thou thrown ? 
 No lodging for Thee but a cold hard stone ! 
 So many hearts on earth, and yet not one 
 
 Receive Thee ! 
 
 Sure there is room within our hearts good store, 
 For they can lodge transgressions by the score ; 
 Thousands of toyes dwell there, yet out of doore 
 
 They leave Thee. 
 
 But that which shews them large shews them unfit. 
 Whatever sinne did this pure rock commit 
 Which holds Thee now ? who have indited it 
 
 Of murder ? 
 
 Where our hard hearts have took up stones to brain Thee, 
 And, missing this, most falsely did arraigne Thee, 
 Onely these stones in quiet entertain Thee, 
 
 And order. 
 
 And as of old the Law by heav'nly art 
 Was writ in stone ; so Thou, which also art 
 The letter of the Word, find'st no fit heart 
 
 To hold Thee. 
 
 Yet do we still persist as we began, 
 And so should perish, but that nothing can. 
 Though it be cold, hard, foul, from loving man 
 
 Withhold Thee. 
 
42 The Temple 
 
 EASTER 
 
 Rise, heart, Thy Lord is risen ; sing His praise 
 
 Without delayes. 
 
 Who takes thee by the handi that thou Kkewise 
 
 With Him mayst rise; 
 
 That, as His death calcined thee to dust, 
 
 His life may make thee gold, and, much more, just. 
 
 Awake, my lute, and struggle for thy part 
 
 With all thy art : 
 
 The crosse taught all wood to resound His name 
 
 Who bore the same ; 
 
 His stretched sinews taught all strings what key 
 
 Is best to celebrate this most high day. 
 
 Consort both heart and lute, and twist a song 
 
 Pleasant and long ; 
 
 Or, since all musick is but three parts vied 
 
 And multiplied, 
 
 O, let Thy blessed Spirit bear a part, 
 
 And make up our defects with His sweet art. 
 
 THE SONG 
 
 I GOT me flowers to straw Thy way, 
 
 I got me boughs off many a tree ; 
 
 But Thou wast up by break of day, 
 
 And brought'st Thy sweets along with Thee. 
 
 The sunne arising in the East, 
 
 Though he give light, and th' East perfume. 
 
 If they should offer to contest 
 
 With Tliy arising, they presume. 
 
Easter 43 
 
 Can there be any day but this, 
 Though many sunnes to shine endeavour ? 
 We count three hundred, but we misse : 
 There is but one, and that one ever. 
 
 Another version, from the Williams MS. 
 
 I HAD prepared many a flowre 
 To strow Thy way and victorie ; 
 But Thou wast vp before myne houre, 
 Bringinge Thy sweets along with Thee. 
 
 The sunn arising in the East, 
 
 Though hee bring light and th' other sents, 
 
 Can not make vp so braue a feast 
 
 As Thy discouerie presents. 
 
 Yet though my flours be lost, they say 
 A hart can never come too late ; 
 Teach it to sing Thy praise tliis day. 
 And then this day my life shall date. 
 
 EASTER WINGS ' 
 
 Lord, Who createdst man in wealth and store, 
 Though foohshly he lost the same, 
 Decaying more and more, 
 Till he became 
 Most poore : 
 
 With Thee 
 let me rise, 
 As larks, harmoniously. 
 And sing this day Thy victories : 
 Then shall the fall further the flight in me. 
 
44 The Temple 
 
 My tender age in sorrow did beginne ; 
 And still with sicknesses and shame 
 Thou didst so punish sinne. 
 That I became 
 Most thiiffie. 
 
 With Thee 
 Let me combine. 
 And feel this day Thy victorie; 
 For, it I imp my wing on Thine, 
 Affliction shall advance the flight in me. 
 
 HOLY BAPTISME 
 
 As he that sees a dark and shadie grove 
 
 Stayes not, but looks beyond it on the skie ; 
 
 So, when I view my sinnes, mine eyes remove 
 More backward still, and to that water flie 
 
 Which is above the heav'ns, whose spring and rent 
 Is in my dear Redeemer's pierced side. 
 
 blessM streams, either ye do prevent 
 And stop our sinnes from growing thick and wide. 
 
 Or else give tears to drown them, as they grow. 
 In you Redemption measures all my time. 
 And spreads the plaister equaU to the crime : 
 
 You taught the Book of Life my name, that so. 
 
 Whatever future sinnes should me miscall, 
 Your first acquaintance might discredit all. 
 
Holy Baptisme 45 
 
 HOLY BAPTISME 
 
 SiNOB, Lord, to Tliee 
 A narrow way and little gate 
 Is all the passage, on my infanoie 
 Thou didst lay hold, and antedate 
 My faith in me. 
 
 0, let me still 
 Write Thee ' great God,' and mo ' a childo ' 
 Let me be soft and supple to Thy will, 
 Small to myself, to others milde, 
 
 Behither ill. 
 
 Although by stealth 
 My flesh get on ; yet let her sister, 
 My soul, bid nothing, but preserve her wealth : 
 The growth of flesh is but a blister; 
 
 Childhood is health. 
 
 • NATURE 
 
 Full of rebellion, I would die, 
 
 Or fight, or travell, or denie 
 
 That Thou hast ought to do with mo : 
 
 0, tame my heart ; 
 
 It is Thy highest art 
 To captivate strongholds to Thee. 
 
 If Thou shalt let this venome lurk. 
 
 And in suggestions fume and work, 
 
 My soul will turn to bubbles straight, 
 
 And thence, by kindo, 
 Vanish into a winde, 
 
 Making Thy workmanship deceit. 
 
46 The Temple 
 
 Oj smooth my rugged heart, and there 
 
 Engrave Thy rov'rend Law and fear ; 
 
 Or make a new one, since the old 
 
 If saplesse grown. 
 And a much fitter stone 
 
 To hide my dust then Thee to hold. 
 
 SINNE 
 
 Lord, with what care hast Thou begirt us round ! 
 
 Parents first season us ; then schoolmasters 
 Deliver us to laws ; they send us, bound 
 
 To rules of reason, holy messengers, 
 
 Pulpits and Sundayes, sorrow dogging sinne, 
 AfHictions sorted, anguish of all sizes. 
 
 Fine nets and stratagems to catch us in. 
 Bibles laid open, millions of surprises ; 
 
 Blessings beforehand, tyes of gratefulnesse, 
 The sound of glorie ringing in our eares. 
 
 Without, our shame ; within, our consciences ; 
 Angels and grace, eternall hopes and fears. 
 
 Yet all these fences and their whole aray 
 One cunning bosome-sinne blows quite away. 
 
 AFFLICTION 
 
 When fifst Thou didst entice to Thee my heart, 
 I thought the service brave : 
 
 So many joyes I writ down for my part, 
 
 Besides what I might have 
 
 Out of my stock of naturall delights, 
 
 Augmented with Thy gracious benefits. 
 
Affliction 47 
 
 I looked on Thy fuiniture so fine, 
 
 And made it fine to me ; 
 
 Thy glorious houshold-stuffe did me entwine, 
 And 'tice me unto Thee ; 
 
 Such starres I counted mine : both heav'n and earth 
 
 Payd me my wages in a world of mirth. 
 
 What pleasures could I want, whose King I served. 
 Where joyes my fellows were ? 
 
 Thus argu'd into hopes, my thoughts reserved 
 Xo place for grief or fear ; 
 
 Therefore my sudd^^soul caught at the place. 
 
 And made her youth and fiercenese seek Thy face. 
 
 At first thou gav'st me milk and sweetnesses, 
 I had my wish and way ; 
 
 My days were straVd with flow'rs and happinesses ; 
 There was no moneth but May. 
 
 But with jny yeares sorrow did twist and grow. 
 
 And made a partie unawares for wo. 
 
 My flesh began unto my soul in pain. 
 
 Sicknesses cleave my bones. 
 
 Consuming agues dwell in ev'iy vein. 
 
 And tune my breath to grones : 
 
 Sorrow was all my soul ; I scarce beleeved. 
 
 Till grief did tell me roundly, that I lived. 
 
 When I got health. Thou took'^t away my life. 
 And more, — for my friends die ; 
 
 My mirth and edge was lost, a blunted knife 
 Was of more use then I : 
 
 Thus thinne and lean, without a fence or friend, 
 
 I was blown through with ev'ry storm and winde. 
 
48 The Temple 
 
 Whereas my birth and spirit rather took 
 
 The way that takes the town, 
 
 Thou didst betray me to a lingring book, 
 And wrap me in a gown ; 
 
 I was entangled in the world of strife 
 
 Before I had the power to change my life. 
 
 Yet, for I threatned oft the siege to raise, 
 Not simpring all mine age, 
 
 Thou often didst with academick praise 
 
 Melt and dissolve my rage : 
 
 I took Thy sweetened pill tiU I came neare; 
 
 I could not go away, nor persevere. 
 
 Yet lest perchance I should too happie be 
 
 In my unhappinesse, 
 Turning my purge to food. Thou throwest me 
 
 Into more sicknesses : 
 Thus doth Thy power cross-bias me, not making 
 Thine own gift good, yet me from my ways taking. 
 
 Now I am here, what Thou wilt do with me 
 None of my books will show : 
 
 I reade, and sigh, and wish I were a tree, — 
 For sure then I should grow 
 
 To fruit or shade ; at least some bird would trust 
 
 Her houshold to me, and I should be just. 
 
 Yet, though Thou troublest me, I must be meek ; 
 
 In weaknesse must be stout. 
 Well, I will change the service, and go seek 
 
 Some other master out. 
 Ah, my deare God, though I am clean forgot. 
 Let me not love Thee, if I love Thee not. 
 
Eepentance 49 
 
 REPENTANCE 
 
 Lord, I confesse my sin is great ; 
 Great is my sinne : 0, gently treat 
 With Thy quick flow'r Thy momentanie bloom, 
 
 Whose life still pressing 
 
 Is one undressing, 
 A steadie aiming at a tombe. 
 
 Man's age is two houres* work, or three; 
 Each day doth round about us see. 
 Thus are we to delights, but we are all 
 
 To sorrows old. 
 
 If life bo told 
 From what life feeleth, Adam's fall. 
 
 0, let Thy height of mercie, then, 
 Compassionate short-breathdd men ; 
 Cut me not oS for my most foul transgression : 
 
 I do confesse 
 
 My f oolishnesse ; 
 My God, accept of my confession. 
 
 Sweeten at length this bitter bowl 
 Which Thou hast pour'd into my soul ; 
 Thy wormwood turn to health, windes to fair weather : 
 
 For if Thou stay, 
 
 I and this day, 
 As we did rise, we die together. 
 
 When Thou for sinne rebukest man, 
 Forthwith he waxeth wo and wan ; 
 Bitternesse fills our bowels, all our hearts 
 
 Pine and decay 
 
 And drop away, 
 And oarrie with them th' other parts. 
 
50 The Temple 
 
 But Thou wilt sinne and grief destroy ; 
 
 That BO the broken bones may joy. 
 And tune together in a well-set song, 
 Full of His praises 
 Who dead men raises. 
 
 Fractures well cur'd make us more strong. 
 
 FAITH 
 
 LoBD, how couldst Thou so much appease 
 Thy wrath for sinne, as when man's sight was dimme 
 And could see little, to regard his ease. 
 
 And bring by faith all things to him ? 
 
 Hungrie I was, and had no meat : 
 I did conceit a most delicious feast, — 
 I had it straight, and did as truly eat 
 
 As ever did a welcome guest. 
 
 There is a rare outlandish root. 
 Which when I could not get, I thought it here ; 
 That apprehension cur'd so well my foot. 
 
 That I can walk to heav'n well neare. 
 
 I owed thousands, and much more; 
 I did beleeve that I did nothing owe, 
 And liv'd accordingly ; my creditor 
 
 Beleeves so too, and lets me go. 
 
 Faith makes me any-thing, or all 
 That I beleeve is in the sacred storie ; 
 And where sinne placeth me in Adam's fall, 
 
 Faith sets me higher in his glorie. 
 
 ' If I go lower in the book. 
 What can be lower then the common manger ? 
 Faith puts me there with Him Who sweetly took 
 Our flesh and fraUtie, death and danger. 
 
Faith 51 
 
 If blisse had lien in art or strength. 
 None but the wise or strong had gained it ; 
 Where now by faith all arms are of a length, 
 
 One size doth all conditions fit. 
 
 A peasant may beleeve as much 
 As a great clerk, and reach the highest stature : 
 Thus dost Thou make proud knowledge bend and crouch, 
 
 Wlule grace fills up uneven nature. 
 
 When creatures had no reall light 
 Inherent in them, Thou didst make the sunne 
 Impute a lustre, and allow them bright. 
 
 And in this shew what Christ hath done. 
 
 That which before was darkned clean 
 With bushie groves, pricking the looker's eie, 
 Vanisht away when Faith did change the scene ; 
 
 And then appear'd a glorious skie. 
 
 What though my bodie runne to dust 1 
 Faith cleaves unto it, counting ev'ry grain 
 With an exact and most particular trust, 
 
 Reserving all for flesh again. 
 
 PRAYER ^ i\ 
 
 Pbaybe, the Churche's banquet, ^gels age, 
 God's breath in man returning to his birth. 
 
 The soul in paraphrase, heart in pilgrimage. 
 The Christian plummet sounding heav'n and earth ; 
 
 Engine against th' Almightie, sinner's towre. 
 Reversed thunder, Christ-side-piercing spear, 
 
 The six-daies-world transposing in an houre, 
 A kinde of tune which all things heare and fear ; 
 e2 
 
52 TJie Temple 
 
 Softnesse, and peace, and joy, and love, and bliase, 
 Exalted manna, gladnesse of the best. 
 Heaven in ordinarie, man well drest. 
 
 The milkie way, the bud of Paradise, 
 
 Church-bels beyond the stars heard, the soul's bloud, 
 The land of spices, Bomething understood. 
 
 K 
 
 >^ ^ THE HOLY COiDIUNION 
 
 "^jT^ ^OT in rich furniture or fine aray, 
 Xor in a wedge of gold. 
 Thou, Who from me wast sold. 
 To me dost now Thyself convey ; 
 For so Thou shouldst without me still have been, 
 Leaving within me sinne : 
 
 But by the way of nourishment and strength. 
 Thou ereep'st into my breast ; 
 Making Thy way my rest. 
 And Thy small quantities my length. 
 
 Which spread their forces into every part. 
 Meeting Sinne's force and art. 
 
 Yet can these not get over to my soul. 
 Leaping the wall that parts 
 Our souls and fleshy hearts ; 
 But as th' outworks, they may controll 
 
 My rebel flesh, and, carrying Thy name, 
 AflFright both sinne and shame. 
 
 Onely Thy grace, which with these elements comes, 
 
 Knoweth the ready way. 
 
 And hath the privie key, 
 Op'ning the soul's most subtile rooms ; 
 While those, to spirits refin'd, at doore attend 
 
 Dispatches from their friend. 
 
The Holy Communion 53 
 
 Give me my captive soul, or take 
 
 My bodie also thither. 
 Another lift like this will make 
 
 Them both to be together. 
 
 Before that sinne turn'd flesh to stone. 
 
 And all our lump to leaven, 
 A fervent sigh might well have blown 
 
 Our innocent earth to heaven. 
 
 For sure when Adam did not know 
 
 To sinne, or sinne to smother, 
 He might to heav'n from Paradise go, 
 
 As from one room t' another. 
 
 Thou hast restor'd us to this ease 
 
 By this Thy heav'nly bloud. 
 Which I can go to when I please, 
 
 And leave th' earth to their food. 
 
 ANTIPHON 
 
 Cho. Let aU the world in ev'ry corner sing 
 My God and King. 
 Vers. The heav'ns are not too high. 
 His praise may thither flye; 
 The earth is not too low. 
 His praises there may grow. 
 Cho. Let all the world in ev'ry corner sing 
 My God and King. 
 Vers. The Church with psalms must shout. 
 No door can keep them out : 
 But above all, the heart 
 Must bear the longest part. 
 Cho. Let all the world in ev'ry corner sing 
 My God and King. 
 
54 The. Temple ^ 
 
 ^ 
 
 LOVE 
 
 Immostal Love, author of this great frame. 
 Sprung from that beauty which can never fade. 
 
 How hath man parcel'd out Thy glorious name, 
 And thrown it on that dust which Thou hast made, 
 
 While mortall love doth all the title gain ! 
 
 Which siding with Invention, they together 
 Bear all the sway, possessing heart and brain — 
 
 Thy workmanship — and give Thee share in neither. 
 
 Wit fancies beautie, beautie raiseth wit ; 
 
 The world is theirs, they two play out the game. 
 Thou standing by : and though Thy glorious name 
 
 Wrought our deliverance from th' inf email pit, , 
 
 Who sings Thy praise ? Onely a skarf or glove 
 Doth warm our hands, and make them write of love. 
 
 n 
 
 Immortall Heat, let Thy greater flame 
 Attract the lesser to it ; let those fires 
 
 Which shall consume the world first make it tame. 
 And kindle in our hearts such true desires 
 
 As may consume our lusts, and make Thee way : 
 Then shall our hearts pant Thee, then shall our brain 
 
 All her invention on Thine altar lay, 
 
 And there in hymnes send back Thy fire again. 
 
Love 55 
 
 Our eies shall see Thee, which before saw dust — 
 Dust blown by Wit, till that they both were blinde : 
 Thou shalt recover all Thy goods in kinde, 
 
 Who wert disseized by usurping lust : 
 
 All knees shall bow to Thee ; all wits shall rise, 
 And praise Him Who did make and mend our eies. 
 
 THE TEMPER 
 
 How should I praise Thee, Lord ? how should my rymes 
 Gladly engrave Thy love in steel, 
 If, what my soul doth feel sometimes, 
 My soul might ever feel ! 
 
 Although there were some fourtie heav'ns or more, 
 Sometimes I peere above them all ; 
 Sometimes I hardly reach a score, 
 Sometimes to Hell I fall. 
 
 0, rack me not to such a vast extent, 
 Those distances belong to Thee ; 
 The world's too little for Thy tent, 
 A grave too big for me. 
 
 Wilt Thou meet arms with man, that Thou dost stretch 
 A crumme of dust from heav'n to hell ? 
 Will great God measure with a wretch ? 
 Shall he Thy stature spell ? 
 
 0, let me, when Thy roof my soul hath hid, 
 0, let me roost and nestle there ; 
 Then of a sinner Thou art rid. 
 And I of hope and fear. 
 
56 The Temple 
 
 Yet take Thy way ; for sure Thy way is best : 
 Stretch or contract me, Thy poore debtor ; 
 This is but tuning of my breast. 
 To make the musick better. 
 
 Whether I flie with angels, fall with dust. 
 Thy hands made both, and I am there; 
 Thy power and love, my love and trust, 
 Make one place ev'rywhere. 
 
 THE TEMPER 
 
 It cannot be : where is that mightie joy 
 Which just now took up all my heart ? 
 Lord, if Thou must needs use Thy dart. 
 
 Save that and me, or sin for both destroy. 
 
 The grosser world stands to Thy word and art; 
 But Thy diviner world of grace 
 Thou suddenly dost raise and race. 
 
 And every day a new Creatour art. 
 
 0, fix Thy chair of grace, that aU my powers 
 
 May also fix their reverence ; 
 
 For when Thou dost depart from hence. 
 They grow imruly, and sit in Thy bowers. 
 
 Scatter or binde them all to bend to Tfeee ; 
 Though elements change, and heaven move. 
 Let not Thy higher Court remove, 
 
 But keep a standing Majestic in ma 
 
Jordan 57 
 
 JORDAN \ '^ (0^ 
 
 Who says that fictions onely and false-Jiair 
 Become a verse 1 Is there in truth no beautie ? 
 Is all good structure in a winding-stair ? 
 May no lines passe, except they do their dutie 
 Not to a true, but painted chair ? 
 
 Is it no verse, except enchanted groves 
 And sudden arbours shadow coarse-spunne lines ? 
 Must purling streams refresh a lover's loves ? 
 Must all be vail'd while he that reades divines, 
 Catching the sense at two removes ? 
 
 Shepherds are honest people, let them sing : 
 Riddle who list, for me, and pull for prime, 
 I envie no man's nightingale or spring ; 
 Nor let them punish me with loss of rhymej 
 Who plainly say. My God, my King, 
 
 EMPLOYMENT 
 
 If, as a flowre doth spread and die, 
 Thou wouldst extend me to some good, 
 Before I were by frost's extremitie 
 Nipt in the bud ; 
 
 The Bweetnesse and the praise were Thine, 
 But the extension and the room 
 Which in Thy garland- 1 should fill were mine 
 -At Thy great doom. 
 
 For as Thou dost impart Thy grace, 
 The greater shall our glorie be ; 
 The measure of our joyes is in this place, 
 The stuffe with Thee. 
 
58 The Temple 
 
 Let me not langiuBh, then, and spend 
 A life as barren to Thy praise 
 As is the dust to which that life doth tend, 
 But with dfelaies. 
 
 All things are bnsie; onely I 
 Neither bring hony with the bees. 
 Nor flowres to make that, nor the husbandrie 
 To water these. 
 
 I am no link of Thy great chain. 
 Bat all my companie is a weed. 
 Lord, place me in Thy consort ; give one strain 
 To my poore reed. 
 
 THE HOLY SCRIPTDEES 
 
 Oh Book ! infinite sweetnesse ! let my heart 
 
 Sack ev'ry letter, and a hony gain 
 Precious for any grief in any part. 
 
 To cleare the breast, to moUifie all pain. 
 
 Thou art all health, health thriving till it make 
 
 A full etemitie ; thou art a masse 
 Of strange delights, where we may wish and. take. 
 
 Ladies, look here ; this is the thankfoll glasse. 
 
 That mends the looker's eyes ; this is the well 
 That washes what it shows. Who can iadeare 
 Thy praise too much ? thou art heaven's Lidger here. 
 
 Working against the States of death and hell. 
 
 Thou art Joye's handsell ; heav'n lies flat in thee 
 Subject to ev'ry mounter's bended knee. 
 
The Holy Scriptures 59 
 
 Oh that I knew how all thy lights combine, 
 And the configurations of their glorie ! 
 
 Seeing not onely how each verse doth shine. 
 But all the constellations of the stone. 
 
 This verse marks that, and both do make a motion 
 Unto a third, that ten leaves ofif doth lie : 
 
 Then as dispersed herbs do watch a potion. 
 These three make up some Christian's destinie. 
 
 Such are thy secrets, which my life makes good. 
 And comments on thee : for in ev'ry thing 
 Thy words do finde me out, and parallels bring. 
 
 And in another make me understood. 
 
 Starres are poore books, and oftentimes do misse ; 
 This book of starres lights to eternaU blisse. 
 
 WHITSUNDAY 
 
 Listen, sweet Dove, unto my song. 
 And spread thy golden wings in me ; 
 Hatching my tender heart so long. 
 Till it get wing, and file away with Thee. 
 
 Where is that fire which once descended 
 On Thy Apostles ? Thou didst then 
 Keep open house, richly attended. 
 Feasting all comers by twelve chosen men. 
 
 Such glorious gifts Thou didst bestow. 
 That th' earth did like a heav'n appeare : 
 The starres were coming down to know 
 If they might mend their wages, and serve here. 
 
60 The Temple 
 
 The sunne, which once did shine alone, 
 Hung down his head, and wisht for night, 
 When he beheld twelve sunnes for one 
 Going about the world and giving light. 
 
 But since those pipes of gold, which brought 
 That cordiall water to our ground. 
 Were cut and martyr'd by the fault 
 Of those who did themselves through their side wound, 
 
 Thou shutt'st the doore, and keep'st within ; 
 Scarce a good joy creeps through the chink ; 
 And if the braves of conqu'ring sinne 
 Did not excite Thee, we should wholly sink. 
 
 Lord, though we change. Thou art the same, 
 The same sweet God of love and light : 
 Restore this day, for Thy great name. 
 Unto his ancient and miraculous right. 
 
 GRACE 
 
 My stock lies dead, and no increase 
 Doth my dull husbandrie improve : 
 0, let Thy graces, without cease 
 
 Drop from above ! 
 
 If still the sunne should hide his face, 
 Thy house would but a dungeon prove, 
 Thy works. Night's captives : 0, let grace 
 Drop from above ! 
 
 ■ The dew doth ev'ry morning fall ; 
 And shall the dew out-strip Thy Dove,— 
 The dew, for which grasse cannot call. 
 Drop from above 1 
 
Grace 61 
 
 Death is still working like a mole. 
 And diga my grave at each remove ; 
 Let grace work too, and on my soul 
 Drop from above. 
 
 Sinne is still hammering my heart 
 Unto a hardnesse void of love : 
 Let suppling grace, to crosse his art. 
 Drop from above. 
 
 0, come ; for Thou dost know the way : 
 Or if to me Thou wilt not move, 
 Remove me where I need not say. 
 Drop from above. 
 
 PRAISE 
 
 To write a verse or two is all the praise 
 That I can raise : 
 Mend my estate in any wayes. 
 Thou shalt have more. 
 
 I go to church : help me to wings, and I 
 Will thither flie : 
 Or if I mount unto the skie, 
 I will do more. 
 
 Man is all weaknesse ; there is no such thing 
 As prince or king : 
 His arm is short ; yfet with a sling 
 He may do more, 
 
 A herb distill'd and drunk may dwell next doore, 
 On the same floore, 
 To a brave soul : exalt the poore. 
 They can do more. 
 
62 The Temple 
 
 0, raise me, then : poors bees, that work all day, 
 Sting my delay. 
 Who have a work as well as they, 
 And much, much more. 
 
 AFFLICTION 
 
 Kill me not ev'ry day. 
 Thou Lord of life ; since Thy one death for me 
 Is more than all my deaths can be. 
 Though I in broken pay 
 Die over each houre of Methusalem's stay. 
 
 If all men's tears were let 
 Into one common sewer, sea, and brine. 
 
 What were they all compar'd to Thine ? 
 
 Wherein, if they were set. 
 They would discolour Thy most bloudy sweat. 
 
 Thou art my grief alone. 
 
 Thou, Lord, conceal it not : and as Thou art 
 
 All my delight, so all my smart : 
 
 Thy crosse took up in one. 
 By way of imprest, all my future mone. 
 
 MATTENS 
 
 I CANNOT ope mine eyes. 
 But Thou art ready there to catch 
 My morning soul and sacrifice : 
 Then we must needs for that day make a match. 
 
 My God, what is a heart ? 
 Silver, or gold, or precious stone. 
 Or starre, or rainbow, or a part 
 Of all these things, or all of them in one ? 
 
Mattens 63 
 
 My God, what is a heart, 
 That Thou shouldst it so eye and wooe, 
 Powring upon it all Thy art, 
 As if that Thou hadst nothing els to do ? 
 
 Indeed, man's whole estate 
 Amounts, and richly, to serve Thee : 
 He did not heau'n and earth create. 
 Yet studies them, not Him by Whom they be. 
 
 Teach me Thy love to know ; 
 That this new light, which now I see. 
 May both the work and workman show ; 
 Then by a sunne-beam I will climb to Thee. 
 
 SINNE 
 
 O THAT I could sinne once see ! 
 We paint the devil foul, yet he 
 Hath some good in him, all agree : 
 Sinne is flat opposite to th' Almighty, seeing 
 It wants the good of vertue and of being. 
 
 But God more care of us hath had ; 
 If apparitions make us sad. 
 By sight of sinne we should grow mad. 
 Yet as in sleep we see foul death, and live. 
 So devils are our siimes in perspective. 
 
 EVEN-SONG 
 
 Blest be the God of love, 
 Who gave me eyes, and light, and power this day, 
 Both to be busie and to play : 
 But much more blest be God above. 
 
64 The Temple 
 
 Who gave me sight alone. 
 Which to Himself He did denie : 
 For when He sees my waies, I die ; 
 But I have got His Sonne, and He hath none. 
 
 What have I brought thee home 
 For this Thy love ? have I discharg'd the debt 
 Which this daye's favour did b^et 1 
 I ranne ; but all I brought was f ome. 
 
 Thy diet, care, and cost 
 Do end in babbles, balls of winde; 
 Of winde to Thee whom I have crost. 
 But balls of wilde-fire to my troubled minde. 
 
 Yet still Thou goest on. 
 And now with darknesse closest wearie eyes. 
 Saying to man, ' It doth suffice ; 
 Henceforth repose, your work is done.' 
 
 Thus in Thy ebony box 
 Thou dost inclose us, till the day 
 Put our amendment in our way. 
 And give new wheels to our disordered clocks. 
 
 I muse which shows more love, 
 The day or night ; that is the gale, this th' harbour ; 
 That is the walk, and this the arbour; 
 Or that the garden, this the grove. 
 
 My God, Thou art all love : 
 Not one poore minute 'scapes Thy brea^ 
 But brings a favour from above ; 
 And in this love, more then in bed, I rest. 
 
Uhurch-Monuments 65 
 
 CHURCH-MONUMENTS 
 
 Whilb that my soul repairs to her devotion, 
 Here I intombe my flesh, that it betimes 
 May take acquaintance of this heap of dust. 
 To which the blast of Death's incessant motion. 
 Fed with the exhalation of our crimes, 
 Drives all at last. Therefore I gladly trust 
 
 My bodie to this school, that it may learn 
 To spell his elements, and finde his birth 
 Written in dustie heraldrie and lines ; 
 Which dissolution sure doth best discern. 
 Comparing dust with dust, and earth with earth. 
 These laugh at jeat and marble, put for signes. 
 
 To sever the good fellowship of dust. 
 And spoO the meeting : what shall point out them, 
 When they shall bow, and kneel, and fall down flat 
 To kisse those heaps which now they have in trust 1 
 Deare flesh, while I do pray, learn here thy stemme 
 And true descent, that, when thou shalt grow fat, 
 
 And wanton in thy cravings, thou mayst know 
 That flesh is but the glasse which holds the dust,/ 
 That measures all our time ; which also shall 
 Be crumbled into dust. Mark here below 
 How tame these ashes are, how free from lust, — 
 That thou mayst fit thyself against thy fall. 
 
 CHURCH MUSICK 
 
 Sweetest of sweets, I thank you : when displeasure 
 Did through my bodie wound my minde. 
 
 You took me thence, and in your house of pleasure 
 A daintie lodging me assign'd. 
 
66 The Temple 
 
 Now I in you without a bodie move. 
 
 Rising and falling with your wings ; 
 We both together sweetly live and love, 
 
 Yet say sometimes, ' God help poore kings ! ' 
 
 Comfort, I'le die ; for if you poste from me, 
 Sure I shall do so, and much more ; 
 
 But if I travell in your companie. 
 
 You know the way to heaven's doore. 
 
 CHURCH LOCK AND KEY 
 
 I KNOW it is my sinne which locks Thine eares 
 
 And bindes Thy hands. 
 Out-crying my requests, drowning my tears. 
 Or else the chilnesse of my faint demands. 
 
 But as cold hands are angrie with the fire, 
 
 And mend it still. 
 So I do lay the want of my desire 
 Not on my sinnes, or coldnesse, but Thy will. 
 
 Yet heare, God, onely for His blond's sake, 
 
 Which pleads for me : 
 For though sinnes plead too, yet, like stones, they make 
 His blond's sweet current much more loud to be. 
 
 , L THE CHURCH FLOORE 
 
 Mark you the floore ? that square and speckled stone, 
 Which looks so firm and strong, 
 Is Patience : 
 
 And th' other black and grave, wherewith each one 
 Is checker'd all along, 
 
 HtTMILITIB : 
 
The Church Floore 67 
 
 The gentle rising, which on either hand 
 Leads to the quire above. 
 
 Is Confidence : 
 
 But the sweet cement, which in one sure band 
 Ties the whole frame, is Love 
 And Chaeitib. 
 
 Hither sometimes Sinne steals, and stains 
 The marble's neat and curious veins ; 
 
 But all is cleansed when the marble weeps. 
 Sometimes Death, puffing at the doore. 
 Blows all the dust about the floore ; 
 
 But while he thinks to spoil the room, he sweeps. 
 
 Blest be the Architect Whose art 
 Could build so strong in a weak heart ! 
 
 THE WINDOWS | 
 
 Lobs, how can man preach Thy eternall word ? 
 
 He is a brittle crazie glasse ; 
 Yet in Thy temple Thou dost him afford 
 
 This glorious and transcendent place, 
 
 To be a window through Thy grace. 
 But when Thou dost anneal in glasse Thy storie, 
 
 Making Thy life to shine within 
 The holy preachers, then the light and glorie 
 
 More rev'rend grows, and more doth win ; 
 
 Which else shows watrish, bleak, and thin. 
 
 Doctrines and life, colours and light, in one 
 When they combine and mingle, bring 
 
 A strong regard and aw; but speech alone 
 Doth vanish like a flaring thing, 
 And in the eare, not conscience, ring. 
 f2 
 
68 The Temple 
 
 TRINITIE SUNDAY 
 
 LoED, Who hast form'd me out of mud, 
 
 And hast redeem'd me through Thy bloud, 
 And sanctifi'd me to do good. 
 
 Purge all my sinnes done heretofore ; 
 For I confesse my heavie score. 
 And I will strive to sinne no more. 
 
 Enrich my heart, mouth, hands in me. 
 With faith, with hope, with charitie. 
 That I may runne, rise, rest with Thee. 
 
 , CONTENT 
 
 Peace, mutt'ring thoughts, and do not grudge to keep 
 Within the walls of your own breast : 
 
 Who cannot on his own bed sweetly sleep. 
 Can on another's hardly rest. 
 
 Gad not abroad at ev'ry quest and call 
 
 Of an untrained hope or passion ; 
 To court each place or fortune that doth fall 
 
 Is wantonnesse in contemplation. 
 
 Mark how the fire in flints doth quiet lie, 
 
 Content and warm t' it self alone ; 
 But when it would appeare to others' eye. 
 
 Without a knock it never shone. 
 
 Give me the pliant minde, whose gentle measure 
 Complies and suites with all estates ; 
 
 Which can let loose to a crown, and yet with pleasure 
 Take up within a cloister's gates. 
 
Content 69 
 
 This soul doth span the world, and hang content 
 
 From either pole unto the centre ; 
 Where in each room of the weU-furnisht tent 
 
 He lies warm, and without adventure. 
 
 The brags of life are but a nine-dayes wonder; 
 
 And after death the fumes that spring 
 From private bodies make as big a thunder 
 
 As those which rise from a huge king. 
 
 Onely thy chronicle is lost : and yet 
 Better by worms be all once spent 
 
 Then to have hellish moths still gnaw and fret 
 Thy name in books which may not rent. 
 
 When all thy deeds, whose brunt thou feel'st alone. 
 Are chaw'd by others' pens and tongue, 
 
 And as their wit is, their digestion. 
 
 Thy nourisht fame is weak or strong. 
 
 Then cease discoursing, soul ; till thine own ground ; 
 
 Do not thyself or friends importune : 
 He that by seeking hath himseK once found, 
 
 Hath ever found a happie fortune. 
 
 THE QUIDDITIE ■ 
 
 My God, a verse is not a crown. 
 No point of honour, or gay suit. 
 No hawk, or banquet, or renown, 
 Nor a good sword, nor yet a lute. 
 
 It cannot vault, or dance, or play, 
 It never was in France or Spain, 
 Nor can it entertain the day 
 With a great stable or demain. 
 
70 The Temple 
 
 It is no office, art, or news. 
 
 Nor the Exchange, or biisie hall : 
 
 But it is that which, while I use, 
 
 I am with Thee : and ' Most take all.' 
 
 HUMILITIE 
 
 I SAW the Vertues sitting hand in hand 
 
 In sev'rall ranks upon an azure throne. 
 
 Where all the beasts and fowls, by their command. 
 
 Presented tokens of submission : 
 
 Hunulitie, who sat the lowest there. 
 
 To execute their call. 
 When by the beasts the presents tendred were. 
 
 Gave them about to all. 
 
 The angrie Lion did present his paw, 
 Which by consent was giv'n to Mansuetude ; 
 The fearful Hare her eares, which by their law 
 Humilitie did reach to Fortitude ; 
 The jealous Turkie brought his corall-chain. 
 
 That went to Temperance; 
 On Justice was bestow'd the Foxe's brain, 
 
 Kill'd in the way by chance. 
 
 At length the Crow, bringing the Peacock's plume — 
 
 For he would not — as they beheld the grace 
 
 Of that brave gift, each one began to fume. 
 
 And challenge it, as proper to his place. 
 
 Till they fell out ; which when the beasts espied. 
 
 They leapt upon the throne ; 
 And if the Fox had liv'd to rule their side. 
 
 They had depos'd each one. 
 
Humilitie 71 
 
 Humilitie, who held the plume, at this 
 
 Did weep so fast, that the tears tricklipg down 
 
 Spoil'd all the train : then saying, ' Here it is 
 
 For which ye wrangle,' made them turn their frown 
 
 Against the beasts : so joyntly bandying, 
 
 They drive them soon away ; 
 And then amerc'd them, double gifts to bring 
 
 At the next session-day. 
 
 FRAILTIE 
 
 LoED, in my silence how do I despise 
 
 What upon trust 
 Is styled honour, riches, or fair eyes, 
 But is fair dust ! 
 I surname them guilded clay, 
 Deare earth, fine grasse or hay ; 
 In all, I think my foot doth ever tread ifi.^^ 
 
 Upon their head, - '^'*^' >, 
 
 o.\ '-''■"' 
 But when I view abroad both regiments. 
 
 The world's and Thine, — 
 Thine clad with simplenesse and sad events ; 
 The other fine, 
 Full of glorie and gay weeds, 
 Brave language, braver deeds, — 
 That which was7ust before doth quickly rise, 
 And prick mine eyes. 
 
 0, brook not this, lest if what even now 
 
 My foot did tread 
 Affront those joyes wherewith Thou didst endow 
 
 And long since wed 
 
72 The Temple 
 
 My poore soul, ev'n sick of love, — 
 It may a Babel prove. 
 Commodious to conquer beav'n and Thee, 
 Planted in me. 
 
 CONSTANCIE 
 
 Who is the honest man ? 
 He that doth still and strongly good pursue ; 
 To Gcod, his neighbour, and himself most true; 
 
 Whom neither force nor fawning can 
 Unpinne, or wrench from giving all their due. 
 
 Whose honestie is no* 
 So loose or easie, that a mf9ing winde 
 Can blow away, or ghtt'riiig look it blinde ; 
 
 Who rides his sure and even trot. 
 While the world now rides by, now lags behinde. 
 
 Who, when great trials come. 
 Nor seeks nor shunnes them, but doth calmly stay. 
 Till he the thing and the example wdgh : 
 All being brought into a summe. 
 What place or person calls for he doth pay. 
 
 Whom none can work or wooe 
 To use in any thing a trick or sleight. 
 For above all things he abhorres deceit ; 
 
 His words and works and fashion too 
 All of a piece, and all are cleare and straight. 
 
 Who never melts or thaws 
 At close tentations : when the day is done, 
 His goodnesse sets not, but in dark can runne : 
 
 The sunne to others writeth laws. 
 And is their vertue, Vertue is his snnne. 
 
Constancie 73 
 
 Who, when he is to treat 
 With sick folks, women, those whom passions sway. 
 Allows for that, and keeps his constant way ; 
 
 Whom others' faults do not defeat, 
 But though men fail him, yet his part doth play. 
 
 Whom nothing can procure. 
 When the wide world runnes bias, from his will. 
 To writhe his limbs, and share, not mend, the ill. 
 
 This is the Mark-man, safe and sure. 
 Who stiU is right, and prayes to be so still. 
 
 AFFLICTION ■ ' 
 
 My heart did heave, and there came forth ' God ! 
 By that I knew that Thou wast in the grief, 
 To guide and govern it to my relief. 
 Making a scepter of the rod : 
 Hadst Thou not had Thy part. 
 Sure the unruly sigh had broke my heart. 
 
 But since Thy breath gave me both life and shape. 
 Thou know'st my tallies ; and when there 's assign'd 
 So much breath to a sigh, what 's then behinde : 
 Or if some yeares with it escape. 
 The sigh then onely is 
 A gale to bring me sooner to my blisse. 
 
 Thy life on earth was grief, and Thou art still 
 Constant unto it, making it to be 
 A point of honour now to grieve in me. 
 And in Thy members suffer iU. 
 They who lament one crosse, 
 Thou dying daily, praise Thee to Thy losse. 
 
74 TJie Temple 
 
 THE STARRE 
 
 Bright spark, shot from a brighter place. 
 Where beams surround my Saviour's face, 
 Canst thou be any where 
 So well as there ? 
 
 Yet if thou wilt from thence depart. 
 Take a bad lodging in my heart ; 
 For thou canst make a debter. 
 And make it better. 
 
 First with thy fire-work burn to dust 
 Folly, and worse then folly, lust : 
 Then with thy light refine. 
 And make it shine. 
 
 So, disengag'd from sinne and sicknesse. 
 Touch it with thy celestial quicknesse, 
 That it may hang and move 
 After thy love. 
 
 Then with our trinitie, of light, 
 Motion, and heat, let's take our flight 
 Unto the place where thou 
 Before did'st bow. 
 
 Get me a standing there, and place, 
 Among the beams which crown the face 
 Of Him Who dy'd to part 
 Sinne and my heart ; 
 
 That so among the rest I may 
 
 Glitter, and curie, and winde as they : 
 That winding is their fashion 
 Of adoration. 
 
The Starre 75 
 
 Sure thou wilt joy by gaining me 
 
 To flie home, hke a laden bee 
 
 Unto that hive of beams 
 
 And garland-streams. 
 
 SUNDAY 
 
 DAY most calm, most bright, 
 The fruit of this, the next world's bud, 
 Th' indorsement of supreme delight. 
 Writ by a friend, and with His bloud ; 
 The couch of Time, Care's balm and bay! 
 The week were dark but for thy light ; 
 
 Thy torch doth show the way. 
 
 The other dayes and thou "^ 
 Make up one man, whose face thou art, 
 Knocking at heaven with thy brow : 
 The worky-daies are the back-part ; 
 The burden of the week lies there. 
 Making the whole to stoup and bow, 
 
 Till thy release appeare. 
 
 Man had straight forward gone 
 To endlesse death ; but thou dost pull 
 And turn us round to look on one 
 Whom, if we were not very dull. 
 We could not choose but look on still, 
 Since there is no place so alone 
 
 The which He doth not fill. 
 
 Sundaies the pillars are ■■ 
 On which heav'n's palace archM lies ; 
 The other dayes fill up the spare 
 And hollow room with vanities : 
 
76 The Temple 
 
 They are the fruitfuU beds and borders 
 In Grod's rich garden; that is bare 
 
 Which parts their ranks and orders. 
 
 The Sondaies of man's life, 
 Thredded together on Time's string, 
 Make bracelets to adorn the wife 
 Of the etemall glorious King : 
 On Sunday heaven's gate stands ope ; 
 Blessings are plentifnll and rife. 
 
 More plentifull then hope. 
 
 This day my Saviour rose. 
 And did inclose this light for His ; 
 That, as each beast his manger knows, 
 Man might not of his fodder misse : 
 Christ hath took in this piece of ground, 
 And made a garden there for those 
 
 Who want herbs for their wound. 
 
 The rest of our creation 
 Our great Redeemer did remove 
 With the same shake which at TTis passion 
 Did th' earth and all things with it move. 
 As Samson bore the doores away, 
 Christ's hands, though naU'd, wrought our salvation. 
 
 And did unhinge that day. 
 
 The brightnesse of that day 
 We suUied by our foul offence : 
 Wherefore that robe we cast away. 
 Having a new at His expense. 
 Whose drops of bloud paid the full price 
 That was requir'd to make us gay. 
 
 And fit for Paradise. 
 
Sunday 77 
 
 Thou art a day of mirth : 
 And where the week-dayea trail on ground, 
 Thy flight is higher, a,8 thy birth. 
 0, let me take thee at the bound. 
 Leaping with thee from sev'n to sev'n. 
 Till that we both, being toss'd from earth, 
 
 Flie hand in hand to heav'n 1 
 
 AVARICE 
 
 Money, thou bane of blisse and source of wo. 
 Whence com'st thou, that thou art so fresh and fine ? 
 
 I know thy parentage is base and low, — 
 Man found thee poore and dirtie in a mine. 
 
 Surely thou didst so little contribute 
 
 To this great kingdome, which thou now hast got. 
 That he wa.s fain, when thou wert destitute. 
 
 To digge thee out of thy dark cave and grot. 
 
 Then forcing thee, by fire he made thee bright : 
 Nay, thou hast got the face of man ; for we 
 
 Have with our stamp and seal transferred our right ; 
 Thou art the man, and man but di'osse to thee. 
 
 Man calleth thee his wealth, who made thee rich ; 
 And while he digs out thee, falls in the ditch. 
 
 ANAEi-i^Ji^lGRAM ^ 
 
 How well her name an ' Army ' doth present. 
 
 In whom the ' Lord of Hosts ' did pitch His tent ! 
 
78 The lempe 
 
 TO ALL ANGELS AND SAINTS 
 
 Oh glorious spirits, who, after all your bands. 
 See the smooth face of God, without a frown 
 
 Or strict commands ; 
 Where ev'ry one is king, and hath his crown, 
 If not upon his head, yet in his hands ; 
 
 Not out of envie or maliciousnesse 
 
 Do I forbear to crave your speciall aid : 
 
 I would addresse 
 My vows to thee most gladly, blessed Maid, 
 And Mother of my God, in my distresse : 
 
 Thou art the holy mine whence came the gold, 
 The great restorative for all decay 
 
 In young and old ; 
 Thou art the cabinet where the jewell lay ; 
 Chiefly to thee would I my soul unfold. 
 
 But now, alas, I dare not ; for our King, 
 Whom we do all joyntly adore and praise. 
 
 Bids no such thing ; 
 And where His pleasure no injunction lay^ — 
 'Tis your o\ra case — ^ye never move a wing. 
 
 All worship is prerogative, and a flower 
 
 Of His rich crown from Whom lyes no appeal 
 
 At the last houre : 
 Therefore we dare not from His garland steal, 
 To make a posie for inferiour power. 
 
 Although, then, others court you, if ye know 
 What 's done on Earth, we shall not fare the worse 
 
 Who do not so ; 
 Since we are ever ready to disburse. 
 If dny one our Master's hand can show. 
 
Employment 79 
 
 EMPLOYMENT 
 
 He that is weary, let him sit ; 
 
 My Boul would stirre 
 And trade in courtesies and wit, 
 
 Quitting the furre 
 To cold complexions needing it. 
 
 Man is no starre, but a quick coal 
 
 Of mortall fire : 
 Who blows it not, nor doth controll 
 
 A faint desire. 
 Lets his own ashes choke his soul. 
 
 When th' elements did for place contest 
 With Him Whose will 
 
 Ordain'd the highest to be best. 
 
 The earth sate still, 
 
 And by the others is opprest. 
 
 Life is a businesse, not good-cheer ; 
 
 Ever in warres. 
 The sunne still shineth there or here, 
 
 Whereas the starres 
 Watch an advantage to appeare. 
 
 Oh that I were an orenge-tree, \ 
 
 That busie plant ! 
 Then should I ever laden be, 
 
 And never want 
 Some fruit for him that dressed me. 
 
 But we are still too young or old; 
 
 The man is gone 
 Before we do our wares unfold ; 
 
 So we freeze on, 
 Until the grave increase our cold. 
 
80 xne xempie 
 
 DENIALL 
 
 When my devotions could not pierce 
 ■o Thy silent eares. 
 
 Then was my heart broken, as \^as my Verse ; 
 My breast was fuU of fears 
 And disorder ; 
 
 My bent thoughts, like a brittle bow, 
 Did flie asunder; 
 Each took his way; some would to pleasures go. 
 Some to the warres and thunder 
 Of alarms. 
 
 As good go any where, they say. 
 As to benumme 
 Both knees and heart in crying night and day, 
 ' Come, come, my God, O come ! * 
 But no hearing. 
 
 that Thou shouldst give dust a tongue 
 To crie to Thee, 
 And then not hear it crying ! All day long 
 My heart was in my knee,- 
 But no hearing. 
 
 Therefore my soul lay out of sight, 
 Untun'd, ungtrimg ; 
 My feeble spirit, unable to lookjight. 
 Like a nipt blossome, hung 
 Discontented. • 
 
 0, cheer and tune my heartlesse breast, 
 Def erre no time ; 
 That so Thy favours granting my request. 
 They and my minde may chime. 
 And mend my ryme. 
 
Chtistmas 81 
 
 CHRISTMAS 
 
 All after pleasores as I rid one day. 
 My horse and I, both tir'd, bodie and minde, 
 
 With full erie of affections, quite astray, 
 I took up in the next inne I could finde. 
 
 There when I came, whom found I but my deare. 
 My dearest Lord, expecting till the grief 
 
 Of pleasures brought me to Him, readie there 
 To be aU passengers' most sweet relief. 
 
 Thou, Whose glorious yet contracted light. 
 Wrapt in Night's mantle, stole into a manger. 
 
 Since my dark soul and brutish, is Thy right. 
 To man, of all beasts, be not Thou a stranger : 
 
 Furnish and deck my soul, that Thou mayst have 
 A better lodging than a rack or grave. 
 
 The shepherds sing ; and shall I silent be ? 
 
 My God, no hynme for Thee ? 
 My soul 's a shepherd too ; a flock it feeds 
 
 Of thoughts and words and deeds : 
 The pasture is Thy Word ; the streams Thy grace, 
 
 Enriching all the place. 
 
 Shepherd and flock shall sing, and all my powers 
 
 Out-spg the daylight houres ; 
 Then we will chide the Sunne for letting Night 
 
 Take up his place and right : 
 We sing one common Lord ; wherefore he should 
 
 Himself the candle hold. 
 
82 The Temple 
 
 I will go searching till I finde a sunne 
 
 Shall stay tiU we have done ; 
 A willing shiner, that shall shine as gladly 
 
 As frost-nipt sunnes look sadly : 
 Then we will sing, and shine all our own day. 
 
 And one another pay : 
 
 His beams shall cheer my breast, and both so twine, 
 Till ev'n His beams sing, and my music shine. 
 
 UNGRATEFULNESSE 
 
 LoED, with what bountie and rare olemencie 
 Hast Thou redeem'd us from the grave ! 
 
 If Thou hadst let us runne. 
 Gladly had man ador'd the sunne, 
 And thought his god most brave, 
 Where now we shall be^bette^ gods then he. 
 
 Thou hast but two rare cabinets full of treasure, 
 The Tririitie and Incarnation ; 
 
 Thou hast unlockt them both, 
 And made them jewels to betroth 
 The work of Thy creation 
 Unto Thyself in everlasting pleasure. 
 
 The statelier cabinet is the Trinitie, 
 Whose sparkling light access denies : 
 
 Therefore thou dost not show 
 This fully to us till death blow 
 The dust into our eyes ; 
 For by that powder Thou wilt make us see. 
 
Ungmtefulnesse 83 
 
 But all Thy sweets are packt up in the other; 
 Thy mercies thither flock and flow, 
 
 That as the first affrights, 
 This may allure us with delights ; 
 Because this box we know, 
 For we have all of us just such another. 
 
 But man is close, reserv'd, and dark to Thee ; 
 When Thou demandest but a heart, 
 
 He cavils instantly : 
 In his poore cabinet of bone 
 Sinnes have their box apart, 
 Defrauding Thee, Who gavest two for one. 
 
 SIGHS AND GRONES 
 
 DO not use me 
 After my sinnes ! look not on my desert. 
 But on Thy glorie ; then Thou wilt reform, 
 And not refuse me ; for Thou onely art 
 The mightie God, but I a sillie worm : 
 
 0, do not bruise me ! 
 
 O, do not urge me ; 
 For what account can Thy ill steward make ? 
 I have abus'd Thy flock, destroy'd Thy woods, 
 Suckt all Thy magazens ; my head did ake, 
 TlU it found out how to consume Thy goods : 
 
 0, do not scourge me ! 
 
 0, do not blinde me ! 
 I hav© deserv'd that an Egyptian night 
 Should thicken all my powers, because my lust 
 Hath still sow'd fig-leaves to exclude Thy light ; 
 But I am frailtie, and already dust : 
 
 0, do not grinde me I 
 g2 
 
84 The Temple 
 
 0, do not fill me 
 With the turn'd viall of Thy bitter wrath 
 For Thou hast other vessels full of blood, 
 A part whereof my Saviour empti'd hath, 
 Ev'n unto death : since He died for my good, 
 
 0, do not kUl me ! 
 
 But 0, reprieve me ! 
 For Thou hast life and death at Thy command ; 
 Thou art both Judge and Saviour, feast and rod, 
 Cordiall and corrosive : put not Thy hand 
 Into the bitter box ; but, my God, 
 
 My God, relieve me ! 
 
 THE WORLD 
 
 Love built a stately house, where Fortune came ; 
 And spinning phansies, she was heard to say 
 That her fine cobwebs did support the frame. 
 Whereas they were supported by the same ; 
 But Wisdome quickly swept them all away. 
 
 Then Pleasure came, who, liking not the fashion. 
 
 Began to make balcones, terraces. 
 
 Till she had weaken'd all by alteration ; 
 
 But rev'rend laws, and many a proclamation, 
 
 Reformed all at length with menaces. 
 
 Then enter'd Sinne, and with that sycomore 
 Whose leaves first sheltred man from drought and dew, 
 Working and winding slily evermore. 
 The inward walls andsommers cleft and tore; 
 But Grace shor'd these, and cut that as it grew. 
 
The World 85 
 
 Then Sinne combin'd with Death in a firm band 
 To rase the building to the very floore : 
 Which they eflPected, none could them withstand ; 
 But Love and Grace took Glorie by the hand, 
 And built a braver palace then before. 
 
 OUR LIFE IS HID WITH CHRIST IN GOD 
 
 Coloss. iii. 3. 
 
 My words and thoughts do both expresse this notion, 
 That Life hath with the sun a double motion. 
 The first Is straight, and our diurnall friend ; 
 The other Hid, and doth obliquely bend. 
 One life is wrapt In flesh, and tends to earth ; 
 The other winds towards Him, Whose happie birth 
 Taught me to live here so That still one eye 
 Should aim and shoot at that which Is on high ; 
 Quitting with daily labour all My pleasure, 
 To gain at harvest an eternall Teeasuke. 
 
 VANITIE 
 
 The fleet astronomer can bore 
 And thred the spheres with his quick-piercing minde 
 He views their stations, walks from doore to doore. 
 
 Surveys as if he had design'd 
 To make a purchase there ; he sees their dances. 
 
 And knoweth long before 
 Both their full-ey'd aspects and secret glances. 
 
86 
 
 j-rte ±tiH'jJLc 
 
 The nimble diver with his side 
 Cuts through the working waves, that he may fetch 
 His dearly-earned pearl ; which God did hide 
 
 On purpose from the venturous wretch. 
 That He might save his life, and also hers 
 
 Who with excessive pride 
 Her own destruction and his danger wears. 
 
 The subtil chymick can devest 
 And strip the creature naked, tiU he finde 
 The callow principles within their nest : 
 
 There he imparts to them his minde. 
 Admitted to their bed-chamber before 
 
 They appeare trim and drest 
 To ordinarie suitours at the doore. 
 
 What hath not man sought out and found, 
 But his deare God ? Who yet His glorious law 
 Embosomes in us, mellowing the ground 
 
 With showers and frosts, with love and aw, 
 So that we need not say. Where 's this command ? 
 
 Poore man, thou searchest round 
 To £nd out death, but missest life at hand ! 
 
 LENT 
 
 Welcome, deare feast of Lent ! who loves not thee. 
 He loves not temperance or authoritie. 
 
 But is compos'd of passion. 
 The Scriptures bid us fast : the Church says, ' Now 
 Give to thy Mother what thou wouldst allow 
 
 To ev'ry corporation.' 
 
Lent 87 
 
 The humble soul, compos'd of love and fear. 
 Begins at home, and layes the burden there, 
 
 When doctrines disagree ; 
 He sayes, ' In things which use hath justly got 
 I am a scandaU to the Church, and not 
 
 The Church is so to me.' 
 
 True Christians should be glad of an occasion 
 To use their temperance, seeking no evasion. 
 
 When good is seasonable ; 
 Unlesse authoritie, which should increase 
 The obligation in us, make it lesse. 
 
 And power it self disable. 
 
 Besides the cleannesse of sweet abstinence, 
 Quick thoughts, and motions at a small expense, 
 
 A face not fearing light ; 
 Whereas in fulnesse there are sluttish fumes, 
 Sowre exhalations, and dishonest rheumes. 
 
 Revenging the delight. 
 
 Then those same pendant profits, which the Spring 
 And Easter intimate, enlarge the thing 
 
 And goodnesse of the deed ; 
 Neither ought other men's abuse of Lent 
 Spoil the good use, lest by that argument 
 
 We forfeit all our creed. 
 
 It 's true we cannot reach Christ's forti'th day ; 
 Yet to go part of that religious way 
 
 Is better then to rest : 
 We cannot reach our Saviour's puritie ; 
 Yet are we bid, ' Be holy ev'n as He ' : 
 
 In both let 's do our best. 
 
88 
 
 J. lie xcmpie 
 
 Who goeth in the way which Christ hath gone 
 Is much more sure to meet with Him then one 
 
 That travelleth by-wayes ; 
 Perhaps my God, though He be farre before. 
 May turn, and take me by the hand, and more. 
 
 May strengthen my decayes. 
 
 Yet, Lord, instruct us to improve our fast 
 By starving sinne, and taking such repast 
 
 As may our faults control! ; 
 That ev'ry man may revell at his doore, 
 Not in his parlour — ^banquetting the poore, 
 
 And among those, his souL 
 
 VERTDE 
 
 Sweet day, so cool, so calm, so bright. 
 The bridall of the earth and skie. 
 The dew shall weep thy fall to-night ; 
 
 For thou must die. 
 
 Sweet rose, whose hue angrie and brave 
 Bids the rash gazer wipe his eye. 
 Thy root is ever in its grave. 
 
 And thou must die. 
 
 Sweet spring, full of sweet days and ros^, 
 A box where sweets compacted lie. 
 My musick shows ye have your closes. 
 And all must die. 
 
 Onely a sweet and vertuous soul. 
 Like season'd timber, never gives ; 
 But though the whole world turn to coal. 
 Then chiefly Uves. 
 
The Pearl 89 
 
 THE PEARL 
 
 Matt. ziii. 
 
 I KNOW the wayes of Learning ; both the head ^ 
 
 And pipes that feed the presse, and make it lunne ; ^) 
 
 What Reason hath from Nature borrowed/*- 
 
 Or of itself, like a good huswife, spunnel 
 
 In laws and policie ; what the starres conspire, 
 
 What willing Nature speaks, what forc'd by fire; o 
 
 Both th' old discoveries and the new-found seas,y. 
 
 The stock and surplus, cause and historic, — 15< ^ijj" 
 
 All these stand open, or I have the keyes lO- 'tP 
 
 Yet I love Thee^H 
 I know the wayes of Honour, what maintains 
 The quick returns of courtesie and wit ; 
 In vies of favours whether partie gains ; 
 When glorie swells the heart, and moldeth it 
 To all expressions both of hand and eye ; 
 Which on the world a true-love knot may tic. 
 And bear the bundle, wheresoe're it goes ; 
 How many drammes of spirit there must be 
 To sell my life unto my friends or foes : 
 
 Yet I love Thee. 
 
 I know the wayes of pleasure, the sweet strains. 
 The luUings and the relishes of it ; 
 The propositions of hot bloud and brains ; 
 What mirth and musick mean ; what Love and Wit 
 Have done these twentie hundred years and more ; 
 I know the projects of unbridled store : 
 My stufiFe is flesh, not brasse ; my senses live, 
 And grumble oft that they have more in me 
 Then He that curbs them, being but one to five : 
 
 Yet I love Thee. 
 
90 The lempie 
 
 I know all these, and have them in my hand : 
 Therefore not seelM, but with open eyes 
 I flie to Thee, and fully understand 
 Both the main sale and the commodities ; 
 And at what rate and price I have Thy love, 
 With all the circumstances that may move : 
 Yet through the labyrinths, not my groveling wit. 
 But Thy silk-twist let down from heav'n to me. 
 Did both conduct and teach me how by it 
 
 To climb to Thee. 
 
 AFFLICTION 
 
 Bboeex in pieces all asunder. 
 Lord, hunt me not, 
 A thing forgot. 
 Once a poor creature, now a wonder, 
 A wonder tortur'd in the space 
 Betwixt this world and that of grace. 
 
 My thoughts are all a case of knives, 
 Wounding my heart 
 With scatter'd smart. 
 As wat'ring-pots give flowers their Uves ; 
 Nothing their furie can controll 
 While they do wound and prick my soul. 
 
 All my attendants are at strife, 
 Quitting their place 
 Unto my face; 
 Nothing performs the task of life : 
 The elements are let loose to fight. 
 And while I live trie out their right. 
 
Affliction 91 
 
 Oh help, my God ! let not their plot 
 Kill them and me, 
 And also Thee, 
 Who art my life ; dissolve the knot, 
 As the sunne scatters by his light 
 All the rebellions of the night. 
 
 Then shall those powers which work for grief 
 Enter Thy pay. 
 And day by day 
 Labour Thy praise and my relief ; 
 With care and courage building me 
 Till I reach heav'n, and, much more. Thee. 
 
 MAN 
 
 My God, I heard this day 
 That none doth build a stately habitation 
 But he that means to dwell therein. 
 What house more stately hath there been, 
 Or can be, then is Man ? to whose creation 
 AU things are in decay. 
 
 For Man is ev'ry thing. 
 And more : he is a tree, yet bears mo fruit ; 
 A beast, yet is, or should be, more : 
 Reason and speech we onely bring ; 
 Parrats may thank us, if they are not mute. 
 They go upon the score. 
 
 Man is all symmetrie, 
 Full of proportions, one limbe to another, 
 And all to all the world besides ; 
 Each part may call the farthest brother, 
 For head with foot hath private amitie. 
 And both with moons and tides. 
 
92 The Temple 
 
 Nothing hath got so farre 
 But Man hath caught and kept it as his prey ; 
 His eyes dismount the highest starre ; 
 He is in little all the sphere ; 
 Herbs gladly cure our flesh, because that they 
 Finde their acquaintance there. 
 
 For us the windes do blow. 
 The earth doth rest, heav'n move, and fountains flow ; 
 Nothing we see bat means our good. 
 As our delight or as our treasure ; 
 The whole is either our cupboard of food 
 Or cabinet of pleasure. 
 
 The starres have us to bed. 
 Night draws the curtain, which the sunne withdraws ; 
 Musick and light attend our head. 
 All things unto our flesh are Mnde 
 In their descent and being ; to our minde 
 In their ascent and cause. 
 
 Each thing is full of dutie : 
 Waters united are our navigation ; 
 Distinguished, our habitation ; 
 Below, our drink ; above, our meat ; 
 Both are our cleanhnesse. Hath one such beautie % 
 Then how are all things neat ! 
 
 More servants wait on Man 
 Than lie'l take notice of : in ev'ry path 
 
 He treads down that which doth befriend him 
 When sicknesse makes him pale and wan. 
 Oh mightie love ! Man is one world, and hath 
 Another to attend him. 
 
Man 93 
 
 Since then, my God, Thou hast 
 So brave a palace built, dwell in it. 
 That it may dwell with Thee at last ! 
 Till then afford us so much wit. 
 That, as the world serves us, we may serve Thee, 
 And both Thy servants be. 
 
 ANTIPHON 
 
 Chor. Praised be the God of love 
 Men. Here below, 
 Ang. And here above ; 
 
 Chor, Who hath dealt his mercies so 
 Ang. To His friend. 
 Men. And to His foe ; 
 
 Chor. That both grace and glorie tend 
 Ang. Us of old. 
 Men. And us in th' end 
 
 Chor. The great Shepherd of the fold 
 Ang. Us did make. 
 Men. For us was sold. 
 
 Chor. He our foes in pieces brake : 
 Ang. Him we touch, 
 Men. And Him we take. 
 
 Chor. Wherefore, since that He is such, 
 Ang. We adore, 
 Men. And we do crouch. 
 
 CAor. »Ii0rd, Thy praises should bee more. 
 Men. We have none, 
 Ang. And we no store ; 
 
 Chor. Praised be the God alone 
 
 Who hath made of two folds one. 
 
94 The Temple 
 
 UNKINDNESSE 
 
 Lord, make me coy and tender to ofifend: 
 In friendship, first I think if that agree 
 Which I intend 
 Unto my friend's intent and end ; 
 I would not use a friend as I use Thee. 
 
 /tf any touch my friend or his good name. 
 It is my honour and my love to free 
 His blasted fame 
 From the least spot or thought of blame : 
 I could not use a friend as I use Thee. 
 
 My friend may spit upon my curious floore; 
 Would he have gold ? I lend it instantly ; 
 But let the poore. 
 And Thou within them, starve at doore : 
 I cannot use a friend as I use Thee. 
 
 When that my friend pretendeth to a place, 
 I quit my interest, and leave it free; 
 
 But when Thy grace 
 
 Sues for my heart, I Thee displace; 
 
 Nor would I use a friend as I use Thee. 
 
 Yet can a friend what Thou hast done fulfill ? 
 0, write in brass, ' My God upon a tree 
 His bloud did spill, 
 Onely to purchase my good-wiU : ' 
 Yet use I not my foes as I use Thee. 
 
TAfe 95 
 
 ^ LIFE 
 
 I MADE a pmie while the day ran by : 
 Here will I emell my remnant out, and tie 
 
 My life within this band ; 
 But Time did becken to the flow'rg, and they 
 By noon most cunningly did steal away. 
 
 And wither'd in my hand. 
 
 My hand was next to them, and then my heart ; 
 I took, withont more thinking, in good part 
 
 Time's gentle admonition; 
 Who did BO sweetly Death's sad taste convey, 
 Making my minde to smell my fatall day. 
 
 Yet Bugring the snqncion. 
 
 Farewell, deare flow'rs ; sweetly your time ye spent, 
 Fit while ye lived for smell or orxiament, 
 
 And after death for cures. 
 I follow straight, without complaints or grief ; — 
 Since if my scent be good, I care not if / 
 
 It be as short as yours. 
 
 SUBMISSION 
 
 But that Thou art my wisdome. Lord, 
 And both mine eyes are Thine, 
 
 My minde would be extreamly stirr'd 
 For missing my designe. 
 
 Were it not better to bestow 
 Some place and power on me ? 
 
 Then should Thy praises with me grow, 
 And share in my degree. 
 
96 The Temple 
 
 But when I thus dispute and grieve, 
 
 I do resume my fight ; 
 And pilfring what I once did give, 
 
 Disseize Thee of Thy right. 
 
 How know I, if Thou shouldst me raise, 
 That I should then raise Thee ? 
 
 Perhaps great places and Thy praise 
 Do not so well agree. 
 
 Wherefore unto my gift I stand, 
 
 I will no more advise ; 
 Onely do Thou lend me a hand, 
 
 Since Thou hast both mine eyes. 
 
 JUSTICE 
 
 I CANNOT skill of these Thy wayes : 
 Lord, Thou didst make me, yet Thou woundest me ; 
 Lord, Thou dost wound me, yet Thou dost relieve mc ; 
 Lord, Thou relievest, yet I die by Thee ; 
 Lord, Thou dost kill me, yet Thou dost reprieve me. 
 
 But when I mark my life and praise. 
 
 Thy justice me most fitly payes ; 
 For I do praise Thee, yet I praise Thee not ; 
 My prayers mean Thee, yet my prayers stray ; 
 I would do well, yet sinne the hand hath gotj 
 My soul doth love Thee, yet it loves delay; 
 I cannot skill of these my ways. 
 
 CHARMS AND KNOTS 
 
 Who reade a chapter when they rise. 
 Shall ne're be troubled with ill eyes. 
 
Charms and Knots 97 
 
 A poor man's rod, when Thou dost ride. 
 Is both a weapon and a guide. 
 
 Who shuts his hand hath lost his gold ; 
 Who opens it hath it twice-told. 
 
 Who goes to bed and doth not pray 
 Maketh two nights to ev'ry day. 
 
 Who by aspersions throw a stone 
 At th' head of others, hit their own. 
 
 Who looks on ground with humble eyes 
 Findes himself there, and seeks to rise. 
 
 When th' hair is sweet through pride or lust, 
 The powder doth forget the dust. 
 
 Take one from ten, and what remains ? 
 Ten still, if sermons go for gains. 
 
 In shallow waters heav'n doth show ; 
 But who drinks on, to hell may go. 
 
 AFFLICTION 
 
 My God, I read this day 
 That planted Paradise was not so firm 
 As was and is Thy floting Ark, whose stay 
 And anchor Thou art onely, to confirm 
 And strengthen it in ev'ry age. 
 When waves do rise and tempests rage. 
 
 At first we liv'd in pleasure, 
 Thine own delights Thou didst to us impart ; 
 When we grew wanton. Thou didst use displeasure 
 To make us Thine ; yet that we might not part. 
 As we at first did board with Thee, 
 Now Thou wouldst taste our miserie. 
 
98 xne j.aapic 
 
 There is but joy and grief : 
 If either wfll convert as, we aie Hiiiie ; 
 Some angels ns'd the first ; if our relief 
 Take up tiie seccmd, then Thy double line 
 
 Ami sev'taQ baits in ather kinde 
 
 Furnish Thy table to Thy minde. 
 
 Affliction, then, is ouis ; 
 We are the faiees, whom tjlmlftTig fast^is more ; 
 While blnsfsdng windes destroy the wanton bowres. 
 And mf9e all tiieir curious knots and store. 
 
 My God, so temper joy and wo 
 
 That Tbj bright beams may tcune Thy Bow. 
 
 MORTIFICATION 
 
 How Eoon doth man decay ! 
 When doUies are t^^i from a chest of sweeta 
 To swaddle infants, whose joong breatii 
 
 Scarce knows the way, 
 lliase clouts are little winding-sheets. 
 Which do c<Misign and sei^ them unto Death. 
 
 When bores go first to bed. 
 They step into tiieir voluntaiie grares ; 
 Slee^ binds them fast, oa^j th^ breath 
 
 Makes them not dead : 
 SuocessiTe nights, like rcdhi^ waves. 
 Convey than qnidly who are bound fcK' DeaA. 
 
 When Youth is frank and free. 
 And caDs im m mAJr, while bis veii^ do swell, 
 AQ day «»gi^liimgiiig mirth and breatii 
 
 In oompanie. 
 That mnsdnlr summons to the kneD 
 Which shall befriend him at the house of Death. 
 
Mortification 99 
 
 When man grows staid and wise, 
 Getting a house and home, where ho may move 
 Within tlio circle of his breath, 
 
 Schooling his eyes. 
 That dumbe inclosure maketh love 
 Unto the coffin tliat attends his death. 
 
 When Age grows low and weak, 
 Marking his grave, and thawing ev'ry year, 
 Till all do melt and drown his breath 
 
 When he would speak, 
 A chair or litter shows the biero 
 Which shall convey him to the house of Death. 
 
 Man, ere he is aware. 
 Hath put together a soleninitie. 
 And drest his hearse, while ho has breath 
 
 As yet to spare ; 
 Yet, Lord, instruct us so to die, 
 Tliat all these dyings may be ufb in death. 
 
 DECAY 
 
 SwiBT were the days when Thou didst lodge with Lot, 
 Struggle with Jacob, sit with Gideon, 
 Advise with Abraliam ; when Thy power could not 
 Encounter Moses' strong complaints and mone : 
 Thy words were then, ' Let Me alone." 
 
 One might have sought and found Thee presently 
 At some fair oalc, or busli, or cave, or well : 
 ' Is my God tliis way ? * ' No,* tliey would reply ; 
 ' He is to Sinai gone, as we heard tell ; 
 List, ye may hearo great Aaron's bell.* 
 h2 
 
100 The Temple 
 
 But now Thou dost Thyself immure and close 
 In some one corner of a feeble heart ; 
 Where yet both Sinne and Satan, Thy old foes, 
 Do pinch and straiten Thee, and use much art 
 To gain Thy thirds and little part. 
 
 I see the world grows old, when, as the heat 
 Of Thy great love, — once spread, — as in an urn 
 Doth closet up itself, and still retreat. 
 Cold Sinne stUI forcing it, — till it return. 
 And calling Justice, all things burn. 
 
 MISERIE 
 
 LoBD, Let the angels praise Thy name : 
 Man is a foolish thing, a foolish thing; 
 
 Folly and sinne play all his game ; 
 His house still burns, and yet he stOl doth sing- 
 ' Man is but grasse. 
 He knows it — ^Fill the glasse.' 
 
 How canst Thou brook his fooUshnesse ? 
 Why, he'l not lose a cup of drink for Thee : 
 
 Bid him but temper his excesse. 
 Not he : he knows where he can better be — 
 As he will swear — 
 Then to serve Thee in fear. 
 
 What strange pollutions doth he wed, , 
 And make his own ! as if none knew but he. 
 
 No man shall beat into his head 
 That Thou within his curtains drawn canst see : 
 They are of cloth. 
 Where never yet came moth. 
 
Miserie 101 
 
 The best of men, turn but Thy hand 
 For one poore minute, stumble at a pinne ; 
 
 They would not have their actions scann'd. 
 Nor any sorrow tell them that they sinne, 
 Though it be small, 
 And measure not their fall. 
 
 They quarrell Thee, and would give over 
 The bargain made to serve Thee ; but Thy love 
 
 Holds them unto it, and doth cover 
 Their follies with the wing of Thy milde Dove, 
 Not sufE'ring those 
 Who would, to be Thy foes. 
 
 My God, man cannot praise Thy name : 
 Thou art all brightnesse, perfect puritie ; 
 
 The sunne holds down his head for shame, 
 Dead with echpses, when we speak of Thee : 
 How shall infection 
 Presume on Thy perfection ? 
 
 As dirtie hands foule all they touch. 
 And those things most which are most pure and fine, 
 
 So our clay-hearts, ev'n when we crouch 
 To sing Thy praises, make them less divine : 
 Yet either this 
 Or none Thy portion is. 
 
 Man cannot serve Thee : let him go 
 And serve the swine — ^there, there is his delight : 
 
 He doth not like this vertue, no ; 
 Give him his dirt to wallow in all night : 
 ' These preachers make 
 His head to shoot and ake.* 
 
102 xne j-cmpie 
 
 O foolish man ! where are thine eyes ? 
 How hast thou lost them in a crowd of cares ! 
 
 Thou pull'st the rug, and wilt not rise, 
 No, not to purchase the whole pack of starres : 
 ' There let them shine ; 
 Thou must go sleep, or dine.' 
 
 The bird that sees a daintie bowre 
 Made in the tree, where she was wont to sit. 
 
 Wonders and sings, but not His power 
 Who made the arbor ; this exceeds her wit. 
 But Man doth know 
 The spring whence all things flow : 
 
 And yet, as though he knew it not. 
 His knowledge winks, and lets his humours reigne ; 
 
 They make his life a constant blot. 
 And all the bloud of God to run in vain. 
 Ah, wretch ! what verse 
 Can thy strange wayes rehearse ? 
 
 Indeed, at first Man was a treasure, 
 A box of jewels, shop of rarities, 
 
 A ring whose posie was ' My pleasure ' ; 
 He was a garden in a Paradise ; 
 Glorie and grace 
 Did crown his heart and face. 
 
 But sinne hath fool'd him ; now he is 
 A lump of flesh, without a foot or wing 
 To raise him to the glimpse of blisse ; 
 A sick-toss'd vessel, dashing on each thing. 
 Nay his own shelf : 
 My God, I mean myself. 
 
Jordan 103 
 
 JORDAN , 
 
 When fitst my linea of heav'niy joyes made mention, 
 Such was their lustre, they did so excell, 
 That I sought out quaint words and trim invention ; 
 My thoughts began to burnish, sprout, and swell, 
 Curling with metaphors a plain intention. 
 Decking the sense as if it were to sell. 
 
 Thousands of notions in my brain did runne, 
 
 Ofi'ring their service, if I were not sped : 
 
 I often blotted what I had begunne — 
 
 This was not quick enough, and that was dead ^ — '2 
 
 Nothing could seem too rich to clothe the sunne. 
 
 Much lesse those joyes which trample on his head. 
 
 As flames do work and winde when they ascend, 
 So did I weave myselfe into the sense ; 
 But while I bustled I might hear a friend 
 Whisper, 'How wide is all this long pretence ! 
 There is in love a sweetnesse ready penn'd ; 
 Copie out onely that, and save expense.' 
 
 PRAYER 
 
 Of what an easie quick accesse, 
 My blessed Lord, art Thou ! how suddenly 
 
 May our requests Thine ears invade ! 
 To show that State disUkes not easinesse, 
 If I but lift mine eyes my suit is made ; 
 Thou canst no more not heare then Thou canst die. 
 
104 
 
 mo j.empie 
 
 Of what supreme almightie power 
 Is Thy great arm, which spans the east and west 
 
 And tacks the centre to the sphere ! 
 By it do all things live their measur'd houre ; 
 We cannot ask the thing which is not there, 
 Blaming the shallownesse of our request. 
 
 Of what unmeasurable love 
 Art Thou possest, Who, when Thou could'st not die, 
 
 Wert fain to take our flesh and curse. 
 And for our sakes in person sinne reprove; 
 That by destroying that which ty'd Thy purse. 
 Thou mightst make way for liberalitie ! 
 
 Since, then, these three wait on Thy throne. 
 Ease, Power, and Love, I value Prayer so. 
 
 That were I to leave all but one. 
 Wealth, fame, endowments, vertues, all should go; 
 I and deare Prayer would together dwell. 
 And quickly gain for each inch lost an ell. 
 
 OBEDIENCE 
 
 My God, if writings may 
 Convey a lordship any way 
 Whither the buyer and the seller please, 
 
 Let it not Thee displease 
 If this poore paper do as much as they. 
 
 On it my heart doth bleed 
 As many lines as there doth need 
 To passe itself and all it hath to Thee; 
 
 To which I do agree. 
 And here present it as my speciall deed. 
 
Obedience 105 
 
 If that hereafter Pleasure 
 Cavill, and claim her part and measure, 
 As if this passed with a reservation, 
 
 Or some such words in fashion, 
 I here exclude the wrangler from Thy treasure. 
 
 O, let Thy sacred will 
 All Thy delight in me fulfill ! 
 Let me not think an action mine own way, 
 
 But as Thy love shall sway, 
 Resigning up the rudder to Thy skill. 
 
 Lord, what is man to Thee, 
 That Thou shouldst minde a rotten tree ! 
 Yet since Thou canst not choose but see my actions, 
 
 So great are Thy perfections, 
 Thou mayst as well my actions guide as see. 
 
 Besides, Thy death and bloud 
 Show'd a strange love to all our good ; 
 Thy sorrows were in earnest, no faint proffer. 
 
 Or superficial offer 
 Of what we might not take or be withstood. 
 
 Wherefore I all forego : 
 To one word onely I say. No ; 
 Where in the deed there was an intimation 
 
 Of a gift or donation. 
 Lord, let it now by way of purchase go. 
 
 He that will passe his land, 
 As I have mine, may set his hand 
 And heart unto this deed, when he hath read. 
 
 And make the purchase spread 
 To both our goods, if he to it will stand. 
 
106 xne .lempie 
 
 How happie were my part, 
 If some kinde man would thrust his heart 
 Into these lines, till in heav'n's Court of Rolls 
 
 They were by wingM souls 
 Entred for both, farre above their desert ! 
 
 CONSCIENCE 
 
 Peace, pratler, do not lowre : 
 Not a fair look but thou dost call it foul, 
 Not a sweet dish but thou dost caU it sowre ; 
 Musick to thee doth howl. 
 By list'ning to thy chatting fears 
 I have both lost mine eyes and eares, 
 
 Pratler, no more, I say ; 
 My thoughts must work, but like a noiselesse sphere ■ 
 Harmonious peace must rock them all the day : 
 No room for pratlers there. 
 If thou persistest, I wUl tell thee 
 That I have physick to expell thee. 
 
 And the receit shall be 
 My Saviour's bloud : whenever at His board 
 I do but taste it, straight it cleanseth me. 
 And leaves thee not a word ; 
 No, not a tooth or nail to scratch. 
 And at my actions carp or catch. 
 
 Yet if thou talkest still. 
 Besides my physick know there 's some for thee ; 
 Some wood and nails to make a stafie or bill 
 For those that trouble me : 
 The bloudie crosse of my deare Lord 
 Is both my physick and my sword. 
 
Sion 107 
 
 SIGN 
 
 Lord, with what glorie wast Thou serv'd of old, 
 When Solomon's temple stood and flourished ! 
 
 Where most things were of purest gold ; 
 
 The wood was all embellished 
 With flowers and carvings mysticall and rare ; 
 All show'd the builders crav'd the seer's care. 
 
 Yet all this glorie, all this pomp and state. 
 Did not affect Thee much, was not Thy aim : 
 
 Sometliing there was that eow'd debate ; 
 
 Wherefore Thou quit'st Thy ancient claim. 
 And now Thy architecture meets with sinne, 
 Fo/ all Thy frame and fabrick is within. 
 
 There Thou art struggling with a peevish heart, 
 Which sometimes crosseth Thee, Thou sometimes it ; 
 The fight is hard on either part : 
 Great God doth fight. He doth submit. 
 All Solomon's sea of brasse and world of stone 
 Is not so deare to Thee as one good grone. 
 
 And truly brasse and stones are heavie things — 
 Tombes for the dead, not temples fit for Thee ; 
 
 But grones are quick, and full of wings. 
 
 And all their motions upward be ; 
 And ever as they mount like larks they sing ; 
 The note is sad, yet musick for a king. 
 
108 The Temple 
 
 HOME 
 
 Comb, Lord, my head doth burn, my heart is sick. 
 
 While Thou dost ever, ever stay ; 
 Thy long deferrings wound me to the quick, 
 My spirit gaspeth night and day : 
 O, show Thyself to me. 
 Or take me up to Thee ! 
 
 How canst Thou stay, considering the pace 
 
 The bloud did make which Thou didst waste ? 
 When I behold it trickling down Thy face, 
 I never saw thing make such haste : 
 0, show Thyself to me. 
 Or take me up to Thee ! 
 
 When man was lost. Thy pitie lookt about 
 
 To see what help in th' earth or skie ; 
 But there was none, at least no help without ; 
 The help did in Thy bosom lie : 
 O, show Thyself to me, 
 Or take me up to Thee ! 
 
 There lay Thy Sonne ; and must He leave that nest, 
 
 .That hive of sweetnesse, to remove 
 Thraldom from those who would not at a feast 
 Leave one poore apple for Thy love ? 
 0, show Thyself to me. 
 Or take me up to Thee ! 
 
 He did. He came : 0, my Redeemer deare. 
 
 After all this canst Thou be strange ? 
 
 So many yeares baptiz'd, and not appeare. 
 
 As if Thy love could fail or change I 
 
 0, show Thyself to me. 
 
 Or take me up to Thee ! 
 
Home 109 
 
 Yet if Thou stayest still, why must I stay ? 
 
 My God, what is this world to me ? 
 This world of wo. Hence, all ye clouds ; away. 
 Away ; I must get up and see : 
 O, show Thyself to me. 
 Or take me up to Thee ! 
 
 What is this weary world, this meat and drink, 
 
 That chains us by the teeth so fast ? 
 What is this woman-kinde, which I can wink 
 Into a blacknesse and distaste ? 
 O, show Thyself to me, 
 Or take me up to Thee ! 
 
 With one small sigh Thou gav'st me th' other day 
 
 I blasted all the joyes about me. 
 And scouling on them as they pin'd away, 
 ' Now come again,' said I, ' and flout me.' 
 O, show ThyseK to me. 
 Or take me up to Thee ! 
 
 Nothing but drought and dearth, but bush and brake, 
 
 Which way so-e're I look, I see ; 
 Some may dream merrily, but when they wake, 
 They dresse themselves and come to Thee : 
 O, show Thyself to me. 
 Or take me up to Thee ! 
 
 We talk of harvests — there are no such things 
 
 But when we leave our corn and hay ; 
 There is no fruitful yeare but that which brings 
 The last and lov'd, though dreadfull day : 
 O, show Thyself to me. 
 Or take me up to Thee ! 
 
110 The Temple 
 
 Oh, loose this frame, this knot of man untie ; 
 
 That my free soul may use her wing, 
 Which now is pinion' d with mortalitie. 
 As an intangl'd, hamper'd thing : 
 O, show Thyself to me. 
 Or take me up to Thee ! 
 
 What have I left, that I should stay and grone ? 
 
 The most of me to heav'n is fled ; 
 My thoughts and joyes are all packt up and gone. 
 And for their old acquaintance plead : 
 0, show Thyself to me. 
 Or take me up to Thee ! 
 
 Come, dearest Lord, passe not this holy season. 
 
 My flesh and bones and joynts do pray ; 
 And ev'n my verse, when by the ryme and reason 
 The word is ' Stay,' says ever, ' Come ' : 
 O, show Thyself to me. 
 Or take me up to Thee ! 
 
 THE BRITISH CHURCH 
 
 I JOY, deare Mother, when I view 
 Thy perfect lineaments, and hue 
 
 Both sweet and bright. 
 
 Beauty in thee takes up her place. 
 And dates her letters from thy face, 
 
 When she doth write. 
 
 A fine aspect in fit aray. 
 
 Neither too mean nor yet too gay, 
 
 Shows who is best. 
 
The British Chwvh 111 
 
 Outlandish looks may not compare ; 
 For all they either painted are. 
 
 Or else undrest. 
 
 She on the hills, which wantonly 
 Allureth all in hope to be 
 
 By her preferr'd. 
 
 Hath kiss'd so long her painted shrines. 
 That ev'n her face by kissing shines, 
 For her reward. 
 
 She in the valley is so shie 
 Of dressing, that her hair doth lie 
 About her eaies ; 
 
 While she avoids her neighbour's pride. 
 She wholly goes on th' other side, 
 
 And nothing wears. 
 
 But, dearest Mother, what those missc. 
 The mean thy praise and glorie is, 
 
 And long may be. 
 
 Blessed be God, Whose love it was 
 To double-moat thee with His grace. 
 And none but thee. 
 
 THE QUIP 
 
 The merrie World did on a day 
 With his train-bands and mates agree 
 To meet together where I lay. 
 And all in sport to geere at me. 
 
112 The Temple 
 
 First Beautie crept into a rose, 
 Which when I pluckt not, ' Sir,' said she, 
 * Tell me, I pray, whose hands are those 1 ' 
 But Thou shalt answer, Lord, for me. 
 
 Then Money came, and chinking still, 
 ' What tune is this, poore man ? ' said he ; 
 ' I heard in Musick you had skill * : 
 But Thou shalt answer. Lord, for me. 
 
 Then came brave Glorie puffing by 
 In sUks that whistled, who but he ! 
 He scarce allowed me half an eie : 
 But Thou shalt answer, Lord, for me. 
 
 Then came quick Wit and Conversation, 
 And he would needs a comfort be. 
 And, to be short, make an oration : 
 But Thou shalt answer. Lord, for me. 
 
 Yet when the houre of Thy designe 
 To answer these fine things shall come. 
 Speak not at large, say, I am Thine, 
 And then they have their answer home. 
 
 VANITIE 
 
 PooEB silly soul, whose hope and head lies low, 
 Whose flat delights on earth do creep and grow; 
 To whom the starres shine not so faire as eyes. 
 Nor soHd work as false embroyderies, — 
 Heark and beware, lest what you now do measure 
 And write for sweet prove a most sowre displeasure. 
 
Vanitie 113 
 
 0, heare betimes, lest thy relenting 
 May come too late ; 
 
 To purchase heaven for repenting 
 Is no hard rate. 
 
 If souls be made of earthly mould, 
 Let them love gold ; 
 If bora on high. 
 
 Let them unto their kindred flie ; 
 
 For they can never be at rest 
 
 Till they regain their ancient nest. 
 
 Then, silly soul, take heed; for earthly joy 
 Is but a bubble, and makes thee a boy. 
 
 THE DAWNING 
 
 Awake, sad heart, whom sorrow ever drowns ; 
 
 Take up thine eyes, which feed on earth; 
 Unfold thy foreheadi gathered into frowns ; 
 
 Thy Saviour comes, and with Him mirth : 
 Awake, awake. 
 And with a thankfull heart His comforts take. 
 
 But thou dost still lament, and pine, and crie. 
 
 And feel His death, but not His victorie. 
 
 Arise, sad heart ; if thou dost not withstand, 
 
 Christ's resurrection thine may be ; 
 Do not by hanging down break from the hand 
 Which, as it riseth, raiseth thee : 
 
 Arise, arise, 
 And with His buriaU-Unen drie thine eyes. 
 Christ left His grav^-clothes, that we might, when 
 
 grief 
 Draws tears or bloud, not want an handkerchief. 
 
114 The Temple 
 
 JESU 
 
 Jbsu ia in my heart, His sacred name 
 Is deeply carv^ there : but th' other week 
 A great affliction broke the little frame 
 Ev'n all to pieces ; which I went to seek : 
 And first I found the corner where was J, 
 After where E8, and next where U was grav'd. 
 When I had got these parcels, instantly 
 I sat me down to spell them, and perceiv'd 
 That to my broken heart he was / east you. 
 
 And to my whole is JESU. 
 
 BUSINESSE 
 
 Canst be idle ? canst thou play, 
 Foolish soul, who sinn'd to day ? 
 
 Rivers run, and springs each one 
 Know their home, and get them gone : 
 Hast thou tears, or hast thou none ? 
 
 If, poore soul, thou hast no tears. 
 Would thou hadst no faults or fears ! 
 Who hath these, those ill forbears. 
 
 Windes still work — it is their plot, 
 
 Be the season cold or hot : 
 
 Hast thou sighs, or hast thou not 1 
 
 If thou hast no sighs or grones. 
 Would thou hadst no flesh and bones ! 
 Lesser pains scape greater ones. 
 
Businesse 115 
 
 But if yet thou idle be, 
 
 Foolish soul, Who died for thee ? 
 
 Who did leave His Fath«r*s thione 
 To assume thy flesh and bone ? 
 Had He life, or had He none 1 
 
 If He had not liv'd for thee, 
 Thou hadst died most wretchedly, 
 And two deaths had been thy fee. 
 
 He so farre thy good did plot. 
 That His own self He forgot : 
 Did He die, or did He not ! 
 
 If He had not died for thee. 
 Thou hadst liv'd in miserie; 
 Two lives worse then ten deaths be. 
 
 And hath any space of breath 
 
 'Twixt his sinnes* and Saviour's death ? 
 
 He that loseth gold, though drosse, 
 Tells to all he meets, his crosse. 
 He that sinnes, hath he no losse ! 
 
 He that findes a silver vein 
 Tliinks on it, and thinks again : 
 Brings thy Saviour's death no gain 1 
 
 Who in heart not ever kneels 
 Neither sinne nor Saviour feels. 
 
 I2 
 
116 The Temple 
 
 DIALOGUE 
 
 MAN 
 
 Sweetest Saviour, if my soul 
 
 Were but worth the having, 
 
 Quickly should I then control! 
 
 Any thought of waving. 
 But when all my cares and pains 
 Cannot give the name of gains 
 To Thy wretch bo fuU of stains. 
 What delight or hope remains ? 
 
 SAVIOUE 
 
 What, childe, is the ballance thine, 
 Thine the poise and measure ? 
 
 If I say, ' Thou shalt be Mine,' 
 Finger not My treasure. 
 
 What the gains in having thee 
 
 Do amount to, onely He 
 
 Who for man was sold can see ; 
 
 That transferr'd th' accounts to Me. 
 
 MAN 
 
 But as I can see no merit 
 
 Leading to this favour, 
 So the way to fit me for it 
 
 Is beyond my savour. 
 As the reason, then, is Thine, 
 So the way is none of mine, 
 I disclaim the whole designe ; 
 Sinne disclaims and I resigne. 
 
Dialogue 117 
 
 SAVIOUR 
 
 That is all : — if that I could 
 
 Get without repining — 
 And My clay, My creature, would 
 
 Follow my resigning ; 
 That as I did freely part 
 With My glorie and desert, 
 Left all joyes to feel all smart — 
 
 MAN 
 
 Ah, no more : Thou break'st my heart 
 
 DULNESSE 
 
 Wnr do I languish thus, droopiiog and dull, 
 
 As if I were all earth ? 
 0, give me quicknesse, that I may with mirth 
 Praise Thee brim-full ! 
 
 The wanton lover in a curious strain 
 
 Can praise his fairest fair. 
 And with quaint metaphors her curl^ hair 
 Curl o're again. j 
 
 Thou art my lovelinesse, my life, my light,^ 
 
 Beautie alone to me ; 
 Thy bloudy death, and undeserv'd, makes Thee 
 Pure red and white. 
 
 When all perfections as but one appeare. 
 That, those, Thy form doth shew, 
 The very dust where Thou dost tread and go 
 Makes beauties here. 
 
118 The Temple 
 
 Where are my lines, then ? my approaches, views ? 
 
 Where are my window-songs ? 
 Lovers are still pretending, and ev'n wrongs 
 Sharpen their Muse. 
 
 But I am lost ill flesh, whose sugred lyes 
 
 StiU mock me and grow bold : 
 Sure Thou didst put a minde there, if I could 
 Finde where it lies. 
 
 fLoid, cleare Thy gift, that with a constant wit 
 
 I may but look towards Thee : 
 Look onely ; for to love Thee who can be. 
 What angel fit ? 
 
 LOVE-JOY 
 
 As on a window late I cast mine eye, 
 I saw a vine drop grapes with J and C 
 Anneal'd on every bunch. One standing by 
 Ask'd what it meant. I (who am never loth 
 To spend my judgement) said : ' It seem'd to me 
 To be the bodie and the letters both 
 Of Joy and Charitie.' ' Sir, you have not miss'd," 
 The man reply'd ; ' it figures Jbsus Cheist.' 
 
 PROVIDENCE 
 
 SACEED Providence, Who from end to end 
 Strongly and sweetly movest ! shall I write. 
 And not of Thee, through Whom my fingers bend 
 To hold my quill ? shall they not do Thee right ? 
 
Providence 119 
 
 Of all the creatures both in sea and land, 
 Onely to man Thou hast made known Thy wayes, 
 And put the penne alone into his hand, 
 And made him secretarie of Thy praise. 
 
 Beasts fain would sing ; birds dittie to their notes ; 
 Trees would be tuning on their native lute 
 To Thy renown : but all their hands and throats 
 Are brought to Man, while they are lame and mute. 
 
 Man is the world's high-priest : he doth present 
 
 The sacrifice for all ; while they below 
 
 Unto the service mutter an assent, 
 
 Such as springs use that fall, and windes that blow. 
 
 He that to praise and laud Thee doth refrain. 
 Doth not refrain unto himself alone, 
 But robs a thousand who would praise Thee fain. 
 And doth commit a world of sinne in one. 
 
 The beasts say, ' Eat me ' ; but if beasts must teach 
 The tongue is yours to eat, but mine to praise : 
 The trees say, ' Pull me ' ; but the hand you stretch 
 Is mine to write, as it is yours to raise. 
 
 Wherefore, most sacred Spirit, I here present, 
 For me and all my fellows, praise to Thee ; 
 And just it is that I should pay the rent, 
 Because the benefit accrues to me. 
 
 We all acknowledge both Thy power and love 
 To be exact, transcendent, and divine ; 
 Who dost so strongly and so sweetly move, 
 While all things have their will, yet none but Thind 
 
120 Tlie Temple 
 
 For either Thy command or Thy permission 
 Lay hands on all ; they are Thy right and left : 
 The first puts on with speed and expedition ; 
 The other curbs Sinne's stealing pace and theft. 
 
 Nothing escapes them both ; aU must appeare, 
 And be dispos'd, and dress'd, and tun'd by Thee, 
 Who sweetly temper'st all. If we could heare 
 Thy skill and art, what musick would it be ! 
 
 Thou art in small things great, not small in any; 
 Thy even praise can neither rise nor fall ; 
 Thou art in all things one, in each thing many; 
 For Thou art infinite in one and all. ~ 
 
 Tempests are calm to Thee ; they know Thy hand. 
 And hold it fast, as children do their father's. 
 Which crie and follow : Thou hast made poore sand 
 Check the proud sea, ev'n when it swells and gathers. 
 
 Thy cupboard serves the world : the meat is set 
 Where all may reach ; no beast but knows his feed : 
 Birds teach us hawking ; fishes have their net ; 
 The great prey on the lesse, they on some weed. 
 
 Nothing ingender'd doth prevent his meat ; 
 Flies have their table spread ere they appeare; 
 Some creatures have in winter what to eat ; 
 Others do sleep, and envie not their cheer. 
 
 How finely dost Thou times and seasons spin, 
 And make a twist checker'd witli night and day, 
 Which, as it lengthens, windes and windes us in. 
 As bouls go on, but turning all the way ! 
 
Providence 121 
 
 Each creature hath a wisdome for his good : 
 The pigeons feed their tender offspring, crying 
 When they are callow, but withdraw their food 
 When they are'fledged, that need may teach them flying. 
 
 Bees work for man ; and yet they never bruise 
 Their master's flow'r, but leave it, having done. 
 As fair as ever and as fit to use ; 
 So both the flow'r doth stay and hony run. 
 
 Sheep eat the grasse, and dung the ground for more ; 
 Trees after bearing -drop their leaves for soil ; 
 Springs vent their streams, and by expense get store ; 
 Qouds cool by 'heat, and baths by cooling boil. 
 
 Who hath the vertue to express the rare 
 And curious vertnes both of herbs and stones ? 
 Is there an herb for that ? that Thy care 
 Would show a root that gives expressions ! 
 
 And if an herb hath power, what hath the starres ? 
 A rose, besides his beautie, is a cure : 
 Doubtlesse our plagues and plentie, peace and warres, 
 Are there much surer then our art is sTire. 
 
 Thou hast hid metals : man may take them thence. 
 But at his perill; when he digs the place 
 He makes a grave ; as if the thing had sense. 
 And threaten'd man that he should fill the space. 
 
 Ev'n poysons praise Thee : should a thing be lost ? 
 Should creatures want, for want of heed, their due ? 
 Since where are poysons antidots are most ; 
 The help stands close, and keeps the fear in view. 
 
122 The Temple 
 
 The sea, which seems to stop the traveller. 
 Is by a ship the speedier passage made ; 
 The windes, who think they rule the mariner. 
 Are rul'd by him, and taught to serve his trade. 
 
 And as Thy house is full, so I adore 
 
 Thy curious art in marshalling Thy goods. 
 
 The hills with health abound, the vales with store; 
 
 The South with marble ; North with furres and woods. 
 
 Hard things are glorious, easie things good cheap ; 
 The common all men have ; that which is rare 
 Men therefore seek to have, and care to keep. 
 The healthy frosts with Summer-fruits compare. 
 
 Light without winde is glasse ; warm without weight 
 Is wooll and furres ; cool without closenesse, shade ; 
 Speed without pains, a horse ; tall without height, 
 A servile hawk ; low without losse, a spade. 
 
 All countries have enough to serve their need : 
 If they seek fine things. Thou dost make them run 
 For their offence, and then dost turn their speed 
 To be commerce and trade from sunne to sunne. 
 
 Nothing wears clothes but man; nothing doth need 
 But he to wear them ; nothing useth fire 
 But man alone, to show his heav'nly breed ; 
 And onely he hath fuel in desire. 
 
 When th' earth was dry. Thou mad'st a sea of wet ; 
 
 When that lay gather'd. Thou didst broach the moun- 
 tains ; 
 
 When yet some places could no moisture get. 
 
 The windes grew gard'ners, and the clouds good foun- 
 tains. 
 
Providence 123 
 
 Rain, do not hurt my flowers, but gently spend 
 Your honey-drops : presse not to smell them here ; 
 When they are ripe, their odour will ascend, 
 And at your lodging with their thanks appeare. 
 
 How harsh are thorns to pears I and yet they make 
 A better hedge, and need lesse reparation. 
 How smooth are silks compared with a stake 
 Or with a stone ! yet make no good foundation. 
 
 Sometimes Thou dost divide Thy gifts to man, 
 Sometimes unite ; the Indian nut alone 
 Is clothing, meat and trencher, drink and can, 
 Boat, cable, sail, and needle, all in one. 
 
 Most herbs that grow in brooks are hot and dry, 
 ' Cold fruits* warm kernells help against the winde ; 
 The lemmon's juice and rinde cure mutually ; 
 The whey of milk doth loose, the milk doth binde. 
 
 Thy creatures leap not, but expresse a feast, 
 Where all the guests sit close, and nothing wants : 
 Frogs marry fish and flesh ; bats, bird and beast ; 
 Sponges, non-sense and sense ; mines, th' earth and 
 plants. 
 
 To show Thou art not bound, as if Thy lot 
 Were worse then ours, sometimes Thou shiftest hands : 
 Most things move th' under-jaw, the crocodile not ; 
 Most things sleep lying, th' elephant leans or stands. 
 
 But who hath praise enough ? nay, who hath any ? 
 None can expresse Thy works but he that knows them ; 
 And none can know Thy works, which are so many 
 And so complete, but onely He that owes them. 
 
124 Tie Temple 
 
 All things that are, though they have sev'rall wayes, 
 Yet in their being joyn with one advise 
 To honour Thee ; and so I give thee praise 
 In all my other hymnes, but in this twice. 
 
 Each thing tHat is, although in use and name 
 It go for one, hath many wayes in store 
 To honour Thee ; and so each hymne Thy fame 
 ExtoUeth many wayes, yet this one more. 
 
 HOPE 
 
 I GAVE to Hope a watch of mine ; but ho 
 
 An anchor gave to me. 
 Then an old Prayer-book I did present ; 
 
 And he an optick sent. 
 With that I gave a vial full of tears ; 
 
 But he, a few green eares. 
 Ah, loyterer ! I'le no more, no more I'le bring : 
 
 I did expect a ring. 
 
 SINNE'S ROUND 
 
 SoRRiB I am, my God, sorrie I am 
 
 That my offences course it in a ring. 
 
 My thoughts are working like a busie flame. 
 
 Until their cockatrice they hatch and bring : 
 
 And when they once have perfected their draughts, 
 
 My words take fire from my inflamM thoughts. 
 
Sinne's liotmd 125 
 
 My words take fire from my inflamed thoughts, 
 
 Which spit it forth like the SiciHan hill ; 
 
 They vent the wares, and passe them with their faults. 
 
 And by their breathing ventilate the ill ; 
 
 But words suffice not ; where are lewd intentions, 
 
 My hands do joyn to finish the inventions. 
 
 My hands do joyn to finish the inventions. 
 
 And so my sinnes ascend three stories high, 
 
 As Babel grew before there were dissentions. 
 
 Yet ill deeds loyter not ; for they supplie 
 
 New thoughts of sinning : wherefore, to my shame, 
 
 Sorrie I am, my God, sorrie I am. 
 
 TIME */ 
 
 Meeting withTii^e, 'Slac^ thing,' said I, '^^^ 
 
 ' Thy sitjje is dull ; whet it, for shame.'Jo 
 
 ' No mar veil, sir,' he did replie,'^*^ 
 
 ' If it at length deservp some blame ; £> 
 But where one ^n woujid have me grind it, C_ 
 Twentie for one too sharp do fime it.' q^ ^ . 
 
 ' Perhaps some such of old did passe, ^ %J^ 
 
 Who above all things lov'd this life;,i f>%^^ 
 To whom thy sithe a hatchet was,^.^ „ 0^%^ 
 Which now is but a pruning-knife J: Xj 
 
 Christ's coming hath made man thy debtor,- / 
 
 Since by thy cutting he grows better. : 
 
 ' And in his blessing thou art blest ; 
 For .where thou onely wert before^,. 
 Aji executioner at best. 
 Thou art a gard'ner now; and more. 
 
 An usher to convey our souls 
 
 Beyond the utmost starres and poles. 
 
l^ -< 
 
 v^ 
 
 126 , ,.u ^- u The Temple 
 
 ^-^^ — r-K^_ 7 — ' -J 
 
 ' And this is that makes lif^ so long, ^ 
 While it detains us £r6m qnr God; ,^, 
 Ev'q pleasures here increase the yrong. 
 And length of dayes lengthens the rod. 
 
 Who wants the place where God doth dwdl. 
 Partakes already half of hell. ^^ --^^U-^: 
 
 ' Oi what strange length must that needs be . 
 Which ev'n eternitie excludes ! ' 
 Thus f arre Time heard me patiently ; 
 Then chafing said : ' This man deludes ; 
 
 What do I here before his doore ? 
 
 He doth not crave lesse time, but more.* 
 
 GRATEFULNESSE 
 
 Thoit that hast giv'n so much to me. 
 Give one thing more, a grat^ull heart : 
 See how Thy beggar works on Thee 
 
 By art : 
 
 He makes thy gifts occasion more. 
 And sayes. If he in this be crost. 
 All Thou hast given him heretofore 
 
 Is lost. 
 
 But Thou didst reckon, when at first 
 Thy word our hearts and hands did crave. 
 What it would come to at the worst 
 
 To save. 
 
 Peipetuall knockings at Thy doore. 
 Tears sullying Thy transparent rooms. 
 Gift upon gift ; much would have more. 
 
 And comes. 
 
Gmi^nesse 127 
 
 This notwithstanding, Thou went'st on, 
 And didst allow us all our noise ; 
 Nay, Thou hast made a sigh and grone 
 
 Thy joyes. 
 
 Not that Thou hast not still above 
 Much better tunes then grones can make. 
 But that tiieee countrey-aires Thy lore 
 
 Did take. 
 
 Wherefore I crie, and crie again. 
 And in no quiet canst Thou be. 
 Till I a thankfull heart obtain 
 
 Of Thee. 
 
 Not thankfull when it pleaseth me. 
 As if Thy blessings had spare dayee ; 
 But such a heart whose puke may be 
 
 Thy praise. 
 
 PEACE 
 
 SwBBT Peace, where dost thou dwell ? I humbly crave. 
 Let me once know. 
 I sought thee in a secret cave. 
 And ask'd if Peace were there. 
 A hollow winde did seem to answer, ' No ; 
 Go seek elsewhere.' 
 
 I did ; and going did a rainbow note : 
 Surely, thought I, 
 This ia the lace of Peace's coat : 
 I will search out the matter. 
 But while I lookt, the clouds immediately 
 Did break and scatter. 
 
128 The Temple 
 
 Then went I to a garden, and did spy 
 A gallant flower, 
 The Crown Imperiall. Sure, said I, 
 Peace at the root must dwell. 
 But when I digg'd, I saw a worme devouro 
 What show'd so well. 
 
 At length I met a rev'rend good old man, 
 Whom when for Peace 
 I did demand, he thus began : 
 
 * There was a Prince of old 
 At Salem dwelt. Who liv'd with good increase 
 Of flock and fold. 
 
 * He sweetly liv'd ; yet sweetnesse did not save 
 
 His life from foes. 
 But after death out of His grave 
 
 There sprang twelve stalks of wheat; 
 Which many wond'ring at, got some of those 
 To plant and set. 
 
 'It prosper'd strangely, and did soon disperse 
 Through all the earth ; 
 For they that taste it do rehearse 
 That vertue lies therein ; 
 A secret vertue, bringing peace and mirth 
 By flight of sinne. 
 
 • Take of this grain, which in my garden grows. 
 
 And grows for you ; 
 Make bread of it ; and that repose 
 And peace, which ev'ry where 
 With so much earnestnesse you do pursue. 
 Is onely 'there.' 
 
Confession 120 
 
 CONFESSION 
 
 WHAT a cunning guest 
 Is this same grief ! within my heart I made 
 
 Closets, and in them many a chest ; 
 
 And like a master in my trade, 
 In those chests, boxes ; in each box a till. 
 Yet Grief knows all, and enters when he will. 
 
 No scrue, no piercer can 
 Into a piece of timber worke and winde 
 As God's afflictions into man. 
 When He a torture hath design'd ; 
 They are too subtill for the subt'llest hearts, 
 And fall like rheumes upon the tendrest parts. 
 
 We are the earth ; and they, 
 Like moles within us, heave and cast about ; 
 And till they foot and clutch their prey. 
 They never cool, much lesse give out. 
 No smith can make such locks but they have keyes ; 
 Closets are halls to them, and hearts high-wayes. 
 
 Onely an open breast 
 Doth shut them out, so that they cannot enter ; 
 Or if they enter, cannot rest. 
 But quickly seek some new adventure : 
 Smooth open hearts no fastning have ; but fiction 
 Doth give a hold and handle to affliction. 
 
 Wherefore my faults and sinries, 
 Lord, I acknowledge ; take Thy plagues away : 
 For since confession pardon winnes, 
 I challenge here the brightest day. 
 The clearest diamond ; let them do their best. 
 They shall be thick and cloudie to my breast. 
 
130 The Temple 
 
 GroDDfESSE 
 
 Oh. what a thing i~ man ! how farre from power. 
 
 From settled peace and rest ! 
 He is some twentie sev'iall men at least 
 
 Each sev'rall hoore. 
 
 One while he counts (£ h^r'n, as c^ his treasme ; 
 
 Bat then a thought creeps in. 
 And calls him coward, who for tear (A sinne 
 
 Win Ic^e a pleasure. 
 
 Xow he win fight it out, and to the warres ; 
 
 Xow eat his bread in peace. 
 And snodge in qniet ; now he scorns increase^ 
 
 Xow aD day spares. 
 
 He builds a house, which quickly down must go. 
 
 As if a whirlwinde blew 
 And crosht the building ; and it 's partfy tme 
 
 His minde is so. 
 
 O, what a sight were man. if ids attires 
 
 Did alter with his minde. 
 And, like a dolphin's skinne, liis clothes comlHn'd 
 
 With his desires ! 
 
 Surely if each one saw another's heart, 
 Th»e would be no commerce, 
 
 Xo sale or bargain passe ; aQ would di^ose 
 And Utc apart. 
 
 Lord, mend, or rath^' m^e as ; one creation 
 
 Win not suffice our turn : 
 Except Thou make us dayly, we shall spurn 
 
 Our own salvatioa. 
 
The Bunch of Grapes 131 
 
 THE BUXCH OF GRAPES 
 
 Jot, I did lock thee np, bat some bad man 
 Hath let thee out again ; 
 
 And now, methinks, I am where I b^an 
 Sev'n years ago : one vogue and vein. 
 One aire of thoughts usurps my brain. 
 
 I did toward Canaan draw, but now I am 
 
 Brought back to the Sed Sea, the sea of shame. 
 
 For as the Jews of old by God's command 
 
 Travell'd and saw no town. 
 So now each Christian hath his journeys spann'd; 
 
 Their storie pennes and sets us down. 
 
 A single deed is small renown ; 
 God's works are wide, and let in future times ; 
 His ancient justice overflows our crimes. 
 
 Then have we too our guardian fires and clouds, 
 
 Our Scripture-dew drops fast ; 
 We have our sands and serpents, tents and shrowds ; 
 
 Alas, our murmurings come not last ! 
 
 But where 's the cluster ? where 's the taste 
 Of mine inheritance ? Lord, if I must borrow. 
 Let me as well take up their joy as sorrow. 
 
 But can he want the grape who hath the wine ? 
 I have their fruit and more. 
 
 Blessed be God, Who prosper'd Noah's vine. 
 And made it bring forth grapes, good store : 
 But much more Him I must adore 
 
 Who of the Law's sowre juice sweet wine did make, 
 
 Ev'a God Himself being pressed for my sake. 
 
 e2 
 
132 The Temple 
 
 LOVE-UNKNOWN 
 
 Deabb friend, sit down ; the tale is long and sad ; 
 
 And in my faintings I presume your love 
 
 Will more compUe then helpj;::;^ Lord I had, 
 
 And have, of Whom some^TOugiW, which may improve, 
 
 I hold for two lives, and both lives in me. 
 
 To Him I brought a dish of umt)one day. 
 
 And in the middle plac'd my heart. But He, 
 
 I sigh to say, 
 Lookt on a servant, who did know His eye 
 Better then you know me, or, which is one. 
 Then I, myself. The servant instantly 
 Quitting the fruit, seiz'd on my heart alone. 
 And threw it in a font, wherein did fall 
 A stream of bloud, which issu'd from the side 
 Of a great rock : — I weU remember all. 
 And have good cause : — ^there it was dipt and dy'd. 
 And washt and wrung ; the very wringing yet 
 Enforceth tears. ' Your heart was foul, I fear.' 
 Indeed 'tis true : I did and do commit 
 Many a fault more then my lease wiU bear : 
 Yet BtUl askt pardon, and was not deni'd. 
 But you shall heare. After my heart was well. 
 And clean and fair, as I one even-tide, 
 
 I sigh to tell, 
 Walkt by myself abroad, I saw a large 
 And spacious fomace flaming, and thereon 
 A boyling caldron, round about whose verge 
 Was in great letters set ' Affliction '. 
 The greatnesse shew'd the owner. So I went 
 To fetch a sacrifice out of my fold. 
 Thinking with that which I did thus present 
 To warm His love, which I did fear grew cold. 
 
Love'UnJcnown 133 
 
 But as my heart did tender it, the man 
 
 Who was to take it from me, slipt his hand, 
 
 And threw my heart into the- scalding pan ; 
 
 My heart that brought it (do you understand ?), 
 
 The offerer's heart. ' Your heart was hard, I fear.' 
 
 Indeed 'tis true. I found a callous matter 
 
 Began to spread and to expatiate there : 
 
 But with a richer drug then scalding water 
 
 I bath'd it often, ev'n with holy bloud. 
 
 Which at a board, while many drank bare wine, 
 
 A friend did steal into my cup for good, 
 
 Ev'n taken inwardly, and most divine 
 
 To supple hardnesses. But at the length 
 
 Out of the caldron getting, soon I fled 
 
 Unto my house, where, to repair the strength 
 
 Which I had lost, I hasted to my bed : 
 
 But when I thought to sleep out aU these faults, 
 
 I sigh to speak, 
 I found that some had stuff'd the bed with thoughts, 
 I would say thorns. Deare, could my heart not break. 
 When with my pleasures ev'n my rest was gone ? 
 FuU well I understood who had been there. 
 For I had giv'n the key to none but one : 
 It must be He. ' Your heart was dull, I fear.' 
 Indeed a slack and sleepie state of minde 
 Did oft posscsse me ; so that when I pray'd , 
 Though my lips went, my heart did stay behinde. 
 But all my scores were by another paid. 
 Who took the debt upon Him. ' Truly, friend. 
 For ought I heare, your Master shows to you 
 More favour then you wot of. Mark the end. 
 The Font did onely what was old renew ; 
 The Caldron suppled what was grown too hard ; 
 The Thorns did quicken what was grown too dull : 
 
134 The Temple 
 
 All did but strive to mend what you had marr'd. 
 Wherefore be cheer'd, and praise Him to the full 
 Each day, each houre, each moment of the week. 
 Who fain would have you be new, tender, quick.' 
 
 MAN'S MEDLEY 
 
 Hbark how the birds do sing, 
 And woods do ring : 
 All creatures have their joy, and man hath his. 
 Yet if we rightly measure, 
 Man's joy and pleasure 
 Rather hereafter then in present is. 
 
 To this lite things of sense 
 Make their pretence ; 
 In th' other angels have a right by birth : 
 Man ties them both alone. 
 And makes them one. 
 With th' one hand touching heav'n, with th' other earth. 
 
 In soul he mounts and^ flies'. 
 In flesh he dies ; 
 He wears a stuffe whose thread is course and round, 
 But trimm'd with curious lace, 
 And should take place 
 After the trimming, not the stuffe and ground. 
 
 Not that he may not here 
 Taste of the cheer ; 
 But as birds drink, and straight lift up their head. 
 So must he sip and think 
 Of better drink 
 He may attain to after he is dead. 
 
Man's Medley 135 
 
 But as his joyes are double, 
 So is his trouble : 
 He hath two winters, other things but one ; 
 Both frosts and thoughts do nip 
 And bite his lip ; 
 And he of all things fears two deaths alone. 
 
 Yet ev'n the greatest griefs 
 May be reliefs. 
 Could he but take them right and in their wayes. 
 Happie is he whose heart 
 Hath found the art 
 To turn his double pains to double praise. 
 
 THE STORM 
 
 If as the windes and waters here below 
 
 Do flie and flow. 
 My sighs and tears as busie were above. 
 
 Sure they would move 
 And much affect Thee, as tempestuous times 
 Amaze poore mortals, and object their crimes. 
 
 Starres have their storms even in a high degree. 
 
 As well as we : 
 A throbbing conscience spurrM by remorse 
 
 Hath a strange force ; 
 It quits the earth, and mounting more and more, 
 Dares to assault Thee, and besiege Thy doore. 
 
 There it stands knocking, to Thy musick's wrong. 
 And drowns the song : 
 
 Glorie and honour are set by till it 
 An answer get. 
 
 Poets have wrong'd poore storms : such dayes are best. 
 
 They purge the aire without ; within, the breast. 
 
136 The Temple 
 
 PARADISE 
 
 I BLESSE Thee, Lord, because I gbow 
 Among Thy trees, which in a bow 
 To Thee both fruit and order ow. 
 
 What open force or hidden chabm 
 Can blast my fruit, or bring me harm. 
 While the inolosure is Thine aem 1 
 
 Inclose me still, for fear I staet ; 
 Be to me rather sharp and taut 
 Then let me want Thy hand and aet 
 
 When Thou dost greater judgements spake. 
 And with Thy knife but prune and pabb, 
 Ev'n fruitful trees more fruitfull abe : 
 
 Such sharpnes shows the sweetest feend. 
 Such cuttings rather heal then bend, 
 And such beginnings touch their end. 
 
 THE METHOD 
 
 PoOBE heart, lament ; 
 For since thy God refuseth still. 
 There is some rub, some discontent. 
 
 Which cools His wiU. 
 
 Thy Father could 
 Quickly efiect what thou dost move. 
 For He is power ; and sure He would. 
 
 For He is Love. 
 
The Method 137 
 
 Go search tliis thing. 
 Tumble thy breast, and turn thy book : 
 If thou hadst lost a glove or ring, 
 
 Wouldst thou not look I 
 
 What do I see 
 Written above there ? ' Yesterday 
 I did behave me carelessly 
 
 When I did pray.' 
 
 And should God's eare 
 To such indifferents chained be. 
 Who do not their own motions heare ? 
 
 Is Grod lesse free ? 
 
 But stay ! — ^what 'b there I 
 'Late when I would have something done 
 I had a motion to forbear. 
 
 Yet I went on.' 
 
 And should God's eare, 
 Which needs not man, be ty'd to those 
 Who heare not Him, but quickly heare 
 
 His utter foes 1 
 
 Then once more pray : 
 Down with thy knees, up with thy voice ; 
 Seek pardon first, and God will say, 
 
 ' Glad heart, rejoyce.' 
 
 DIVINITIE 
 
 As men, for fear the starres should sleep and nod 
 And trip at night, have spheres suppU'd, — 
 
 As if a starre were duller then a clod. 
 
 Which knows his way without a guide, — 
 
138 The Temple 
 
 Just so the other heav'n they also serve, 
 
 Divinitie's transcendent skie. 
 Which with the edge of wit they cut and carve : 
 
 Reason triumphs, and Faith lies by. 
 
 Could not that wisdome, which first broacht the wine, 
 
 Have thicken'd it with definitions ? 
 And jagg'd His seamlesse coat, had that been fine. 
 
 With curious questions and divisions ? 
 
 But all the doctrine which He taught and gave 
 
 Was clesire as heav'n, from whence it came; 
 At least those beams of truth, which onely save, 
 ^ Surpasse in brightnesse any flame. 
 
 ' Love God ' and ' Love your neighbour,' ' Watch and 
 pray,' 
 
 ' Do as you would be done unto ' ; 
 dark instructions, ev'n as dark as day ! 
 
 Who can these Gordian knots undo ! 
 
 ' But He doth bid us take His bloud for wine.' 
 Bid what He please; yet I am sure, 
 
 To take and taste what He doth there designe 
 Is all that saves, and not obscure. 
 
 Then burn thy epicycles, foolish man, 
 
 Break all thy spheres, and save thy head ; 
 
 Faith needs no staffe of flesh, but stoutly can 
 To heav'n alone both go etnd leade. 
 
Grieve not the Holy Spirit 139 
 
 GRIEVE NOT THE HOLY SPIRIT 
 
 Ephes. iv. 30 
 
 And art Thou grieved, sweet and sacred Dove, 
 When I am sowre. 
 And crosse Thy love ? 
 Grieved for me ? the God of strength and power 
 Griev'd for a worm, which, when I tread, 
 I passe away and leave it dead ? 
 
 Then weep, mine eyes, the God of love doth grieve ; 
 Weep, foolish heart. 
 And weeping live ; 
 For death is drie as dust. Yet if ye part 
 End as the night, whose sable hue 
 Your siimes expresse, melt into dew. 
 
 When sawcie Mirth shall knock or call at doore, 
 Ciy out, ' Get hence, 
 Or cry no more ! ' 
 Almightie Gtod doth grieve. He puts on sense ; 
 I sinne not to my grief alone. 
 But to my Grod's too ; He doth grone. 
 
 O, take thy lute, and tune it to a strain 
 Which may with thee 
 All day complain ; 
 There can no discord but in ceasing be. 
 Marble can weep, and surely strings 
 More bowels have then such hard things. 
 
 Lord, I adjudge myself to tears and grief, 
 Ev'n endlesse tears 
 Without relief ; 
 
140 Tlie Temple 
 
 If a cleare spring for me no time forbears, 
 But runnes, although I be not drie — 
 I am no crystall — what shall I ? 
 
 Yet if I waU not still, since still to wail 
 Nature denies, 
 And flesh would fail ; 
 If my deserts were masters of mine eyes, — 
 Lord, pardon, for Thy Sonne makes good 
 My want of tears with store of bloud. 
 
 THE FAMILIE 
 
 What doth this noise of thoughts within my heart. 
 
 As if they had a part ? 
 What do these loud complaints and puling fears. 
 As if there were no rule or eares ? 
 
 But, Lord, the house and famUie are Thine, 
 
 Though some of them repine ; 
 Turn out these wranglers, which defile Thy seat. 
 For where Thou dwellest all is neat. 
 
 First Peace and Silence all disputes controll. 
 
 Then Order plaies the soul ; 
 And giving all things their set forms and houres. 
 Makes of wilde woods sweet walks and bowres. 
 
 Humble Obedience neare the doore doth stand. 
 
 Expecting a command ; 
 Then whom in waiting, nothing seems more slow. 
 Nothing more quick when she doth go. 
 
 Joyes oft are there, and griefs as oft as joyes ; 
 
 But griefs without a noise : 
 Yet speak they louder then distemper'd fears ; 
 What is so shrill as silent tears ? 
 
TU Familie 141 
 
 This is Thy house, with these it doth abound ; 
 
 And where these are not found 
 Perhaps Thou com'st sometimes, and for a day; 
 But not to make a constant stay. 
 
 THE SIZE 
 
 CoNTE^TT thee, greedie heart ; 
 Modest and moderate joyes to those that have 
 Title to more hereafter when they part 
 Are passing brave. 
 Let th' upper springs into the low 
 Descend and fall, and tliou dost flow. 
 
 What though some have a fraught 
 Of cloves and nutmegs, and in cinnamon sail 1 
 If thou hast wherewithal! to spice a draught 
 
 When griefs prevaU, 
 And, for the future time, «krt heir 
 To th' Isle of spices, is't not fair ? 
 
 To be in both worlds full 
 Is more then God was. Who was hnngiie here. 
 Wouldst thou His laws of feasting fliaa.Tin11 ; 
 Ensict good cheer 1 
 Lay out thy joy, yet hope to save it ? 
 Wouldst thou both eat thy cake, and have it < 
 
 Great joyee are all at once ; 
 But little do reserve themselves for more : 
 Those have their hopes, these what they have renounce. 
 And live on score ; 
 Those are at home ; these journey still. 
 And meet the rest on Sion's hill. 
 
142 The Temple 
 
 Tliy Saviour sentenc'd joy. 
 
 And in the flesh condemn'd it as unfit ; 
 
 At least in lump, for such doth oft destroy ; 
 
 Wliereas a bit 
 
 Doth 'tice us on to hopes of more, 
 
 And for the present, health restore. 
 
 A Christian's state and case 
 Is not a corpulent, but a thinne and spare, 
 Yet active strength ; whose long and bonie face 
 Content and care 
 Do seem to equally divide. 
 Like a pretender, not a bride. 
 
 Wherefore sit down, good heart ; 
 Grasp not at much, for fear thou losest all. 
 If comforts fell according to desert, — 
 
 They would great frosts and snows destroy : 
 For we should count, — Since the last joy. 
 
 Then close again the seam 
 Which thou hast open'd ; do not spread thy robe 
 In hopes of great things. Call to minde thy dream, 
 An earthly globe. 
 On whose meridian was engraven, 
 ' These seap are tears, and Heav'n the haven,* 
 
 ARTILLERIE 
 
 As I one evening sat before my cell, 
 Me thought a starre did shoot into my lap. 
 I rose, and shook my clothes, as knowing well 
 That from small fires comes oft no small mishap ; 
 
Adillerie 143 
 
 \\Tien suddenly I heard one say, 
 'Do as thou usest, disobey, 
 Expell good motions from thy breast. 
 Which have the face of fire, but end in rest.' 
 
 I, who liad heard of music in the spheres. 
 But not of speech in starres, began to muse ; 
 But turning to my God, Whose ministers 
 The starres and all things are : 'HI refuse. 
 Dread Lord,' said I, ' so oft my good. 
 Then I refuse not ev'n with bloud 
 To wash away my stubborn thought ; 
 For I will do, or suffer what I ought.' 
 
 But I have also starres and shooters too. 
 Born where Tliy servants both artilleries use : 
 My tears and prayers night and day do woo. 
 And work up to Thee ; yet Thou dost refuse. 
 Not but I am (I must say still) 
 Much more oblig'd to do Thy will 
 Than Thou to grant mine; but because 
 Thy promise now hath ev'n set Thee Thy laws. 
 
 Then we are shooters both, and Thou dost deigne 
 To enter combate witJi us, and contest 
 With Thine own clay. But I would parley fain : 
 Shunne not my arrows, and behold my breast. 
 
 Yet if Thou shunnest, I am Thine, 
 
 I must be so, if I am mine : — 
 
 There is no articling with Thee ; 
 I am but finite, — ^yet Thine infinitely. 
 
144 Tlie Temple 
 
 CHURCH-RENTS AND SCHISMES 
 
 Beave rose, alas, where art thou ? In the chair 
 Where thou didst lately so triumph and shine, 
 A worm doth sit, whose many feet and hair 
 Are the more foul, the more thou wert divine. 
 This, this hath done it, this did bite the root 
 And bottome of the leaves ; which when the winde 
 Did once perceive, it blew them under foot, 
 Where rude unhallow'd steps do crush and grinde 
 Their beauteous glories. Onely shreds of thee, 
 And those all bitten, in thy chair I see. 
 
 Why doth my Mother blush ? is she the rose. 
 And shows it so ? Indeed Christ's precious bloud 
 Gave you a colour once ; which when your foes 
 Thought to let out, the bleeding did you good. 
 And niade you look much fresher then before. 
 But when debates and fretting jealousies 
 Did worm and work within you more and more. 
 Your colour faded, and calamities 
 Turned your ruddie into pale and bleak: 
 Your health and beautie both began to break. 
 
 Then did your sev'raU parts unloose and start ; 
 Which when your neighbours saw, like a north-winde 
 They rushed in, and cast them in the dirt, 
 Where Pagans tread. Mother deare and kinde, 
 Where shall I get me eyes enough to weep — 
 As many eyes as starres ! since it is night, 
 And much of Asia and Europe fast asleep. 
 And ev*n all Africk : would at least I might 
 With these two poore ones lick up all the dew. 
 Which falls by night, and poure it out for you ! 
 
Justice 145 
 
 JUSTICE 
 
 DEBADFULL justice, what a fright and terrour [ 
 Wast thou of old, 
 When Sinne and Errour 
 Did show and shape thy looks to me. 
 And through their glasse discolour thee ! 
 He that did but look up was proud and bold. 
 
 The dishes of thy balance seem'd to gape, 
 Like two great pits ; 
 The beam and 'scape 
 Did like some tort'ring engine show : 
 Thy hand above did burn and glow. 
 Daunting the stoutest hearts, the proudest wits. 
 
 But now that Christ's pure vail presents the sight, 
 I see no fears : 
 Thy hand is white. 
 Thy scales like buckets, which attend 
 And interchangeably descend. 
 Lifting to heaven from this well of tears. 
 
 For where before thou still didst call on me, 
 Now I still touch 
 And harp on thee ; 
 God's promises have made thee mine : 
 Why should I justice now decline ? 
 Against me there is none, but for me much. 
 
146 The Temple 
 
 THE PILGRIMAGE 
 
 I teavell'd on, seeing the hill, where lay 
 My expectation. 
 A long it was and weary way : 
 The gloomy cave of Desperation 
 I left on th' one, and on the other side 
 The rock of Pride. 
 
 And 80 I came to Phansie's medow strow'd 
 With many a flower: 
 Fain would I here have made abode. 
 But I was quicken'd by my houre. 
 So to Care's cops I came, and there got through 
 With much ado. 
 
 That led me to the wilde of Passion, which 
 Some call the wold ; 
 A wasted place, but sometimes rich. 
 Here I was robb'd of all my gold. 
 Save one good angell, which a friend had ti'd 
 Close to my side. 
 
 At length I got unto the gladsome hiU, 
 
 Where lay my hope. 
 Where lay my heart ; and chmbing still. 
 When I had gain'd the brow and top, 
 A lake of brackish waters on the ground 
 Was all I found. 
 
 With that abash'd and struck with many a sting 
 Of swarming fears, 
 I fell and cry'd, ' Alas, my King, 
 Can both the way and end be tears ? ' 
 Yet taking heart I rose, and then perceiv'd 
 I was deceiv'd. 
 
The Pilgrimage 147 
 
 My hill was further; bo I flung away, 
 Yet heard a crie, 
 Just as I went, 'None goes that way 
 And lives.' ' If that be all,' said I, 
 ' After so foul a journey death is fair. 
 And but a chair.' 
 
 THE HOLDFAST 
 
 1 THREATENED to observe the strict decree 
 
 Of my deare God with all my power and might : 
 
 But I was told by one, ' It could not be ; 
 Yet I might trust in God to be my light.' 
 
 ' Then will I trust,' said I, ' in Him alone.' 
 ' Nay, ev'n to trust in Him, was also His : 
 
 We must confesse that nothing is our own.' 
 ' Then I confesse that He my succour is.' 
 
 ' But to have nought is ours, not to confesse 
 That we have nought.' I stood amaz'd at this. 
 
 Much troubled, till I heard a friend expresse 
 That all things were more ours by being His : 
 
 What Adam had, and forfeited for all, 
 Christ keepeth now. Who cannot fail or fall. 
 
 COMPLAINING 
 
 Do not beguile my heart, 
 
 Because Thou art 
 My power and wisdome. Put me not to shame 
 Because I am 
 Thy clay that weeps. Thy dust that calls. 
 l2 
 
148 The Temple 
 
 Thou art the Lord of glorie ; 
 
 The deed and storie 
 Are both Thy due : but I a silly flie. 
 That live or die 
 According as the weather falls. 
 
 Art Thou all justice, Lord ? 
 
 Shows not Thy Word 
 More attributes 1 Am I all throat or eye, 
 To weep or crie ? 
 Have I no parts but those of grief ? 
 
 Let not Thy wrathfull power 
 Afflict my houre, 
 My inch of life ; or let Thy gracious power 
 Contract my houre, 
 That I may climbe and finde reUef, 
 
 THE DISCHARGE 
 
 BusiE enquiring heart, what would'st thou know ? 
 
 Why dost thou prie. 
 And turn, and leer, and with a lioorous eye 
 Look high and low. 
 And in thy lookings stretch and grow 1 
 
 Hast thou not made thy counts, and summ'd up all \ 
 
 Did not thy heart 
 Give up the whole, and with the whole depart ? 
 
 Let what will fall. 
 That which is past who can recall ? 
 
The Discharge 149 
 
 Thy life is God's, thy time to come is gone, 
 
 And is His right. 
 He is thy night at noon ; He is at night 
 Thy noon alone ; 
 The crop is His, for He hath sown. 
 
 And well it was for thee, when this befell. 
 
 That God did make 
 Thy businesse His, and in thy life partake ; 
 
 For thou canst tell, 
 If it be His once, all is well. 
 
 Onely the present is thy part and fee ; 
 
 And happy thou 
 If, though thou didst not beat thy future brow. 
 
 Thou could'st well see 
 What present things requir'd of thee. 
 
 They ask enough ; why shouldst thou further go ? 
 
 Raise not the mudde 
 Of future depths, but drink the cleare and good : 
 
 Dig not for wo 
 In times to come, for it will grow. 
 
 Man and the present fit ; if he provide, 
 
 He breaks the square. 
 This houre is mine : if for the next I care, 
 I grow too wide. 
 And do encroach upon Death's side ; 
 
 For Death each hour environs and surrounds. 
 
 He that would know 
 And care for future chances cannot go 
 Unto those grounds 
 But through a churchyard which them bounds. 
 
150 The Temfie 
 
 Things present shrink and die ; but they that spend 
 
 Their thonghts and sense 
 On fatore grid do not remove it thence. 
 But it extend. 
 And draw tJie bottome ont an end. 
 
 €iod chains the dog till night ; 'wilt loose the chain. 
 
 And wake thy sorrow 1 
 WQt thoa forestall it, and now grieve to-nuKTOw, 
 
 And then again 
 Grieve over freshly aQ tiiy pain % 
 
 Either grief will not come, or if it must. 
 
 Do not forecast ; 
 And while it cometh it is almost past. 
 Away, distmst; 
 My God hath promis'd; He is just. 
 
 PRAISE 
 
 Kn^G of glorie. King of peace, 
 I win love Thee ; 
 
 And, that love may never cease, 
 I win move Hies. 
 
 Thou hast granted my request, 
 
 Thoa bast heard me; 
 
 Thoa didst note my working breast, 
 Thon hast spar'd me. 
 
 Wherefore with my utmost ait 
 I win sing "Biee, 
 
 And the cream of aU my heart 
 I will bring Thee. 
 
Praise 151 
 
 Though my sins against mo cried, 
 Thou didst cleare me ; 
 
 And alone, when they replied, 
 
 Thou didst heare me. 
 
 Sev'n whole dayes, not one in seven, 
 
 I will praise Thee ; 
 In my heart, though not in heaven, 
 
 I can raise Thee. 
 
 Thou grew'st soft and moist with tears. 
 
 Thou relentedst. 
 And when Justice caU'd for fears. 
 
 Thou dissentedst. 
 
 Small it is in this poore sort 
 
 To enroll Thee ; 
 Ev'n eternitie is too short 
 
 To extoll Thee. 
 
 AN OFFERING 
 
 Comb, bring thy gift. If blessings were as slow 
 As men's returns, what would become of fools ? 
 What hast thou there — a heart ? but is it pure ? 
 Search well, and see, for hearts have many holes. 
 Yet one pure heart is nothing to bestow ; 
 In Christ two natures met to be thy cure. 
 
 0, that within us hearts had propagation. 
 
 Since many gifts do challenge many hearts ! 
 
 Yet one, if good, may title to a number. 
 
 And single things grow fruitfull by deserts. 
 
 In public judgments one may be a nation. 
 
 And fence a plague, wliile others sleep and slumber. 
 
152 The Temple 
 
 But all I fear is, lest thy heart displease, 
 As neither good nor one ; so oft divisions 
 Thy lusts have made, and not thy lusts alone — 
 Thy passions also have their set partitions : 
 These parceU out thy heart ; recover these. 
 And thou mayst ofEer many gifts in one. 
 
 There is a balsome, or indeed a bloud, 
 
 Dropping from heav'n, which doth both cleanse and 
 
 close 
 All sorts of wounds, of such strange force it is. 
 Seek out this All-heal, and seek no repose 
 Until! thou finde, and use it to thy good : 
 Then bring thy gift, and let thy hymne be this : 
 
 Since my sadnesse 
 
 Into gladnesse. 
 Lord, Thou dost convert ; 
 
 O, accept 
 
 Wliat Thou hast kept 
 As Thy due desert. 
 
 Had I many. 
 
 Had I any — 
 For this heart is none — 
 
 All were Thine, 
 
 And none of mine ; 
 Surely Thine alone. 
 
 Yet Thy favour 
 
 May give savour 
 To this poore oblation. 
 
 And it raise 
 
 To be Thj' praise. 
 And be ray salvation. 
 
Longing 153 
 
 LONGING 
 
 With sick and famisht eyea. 
 With, doubling knees, and weaiy bones. 
 To Thee my cries. 
 To Thee my grones. 
 To Thee my sighs, my tears ascend * 
 No end? 
 
 My throat, my soul is hoarse; 
 My heart is ■wither'd like a ground 
 Which Thou dost curse; 
 My thoughts turn round. 
 And make me giddie : Lord, I fall. 
 Yet call. 
 
 From Thee all pitie fio\vs : 
 Mothers are Mnde because Thou art, 
 And dost dispose 
 To them a part : 
 Their infants, them, and they suck Theo 
 More free. 
 
 Bowels of pitie, heare ; 
 
 Lord of my soul, love of my minde. 
 
 Bow down Thine eare ; 
 
 Let not the wiiide 
 
 Scatter my words, and in the same 
 
 Thy name. 
 
 Look on my sorrows round ; 
 Mark well my furnace. O, what flames. 
 What heats abound ! 
 What griefs, what shames ! 
 Consider, Lord ; Loixl, bow Thine eare. 
 And heare. 
 
154 The Temple 
 
 Lord Jesu, Thou didst bow 
 Thy dying head upon the tree ; 
 0, be not now 
 More dead to me. 
 Lord, heare. ' Shall He that made the eare 
 Not heare ? ' 
 
 Behold, Thy dust doth stirre ; 
 It moves, it creeps, it aims at Thee ; 
 Wilt Thou deferre 
 To succour me, 
 Thy pile of dust, wherein each crumme 
 Sayes, Come ? 
 
 To Thee help appertains ; 
 
 Hast Thou left all things to their course, 
 
 And laid the reins 
 
 Upon the horse ? 
 
 Is all lockt ? hath a sinner's plea 
 
 No key ? 
 
 Indeed, the world 's Thy book. 
 Where all things have their leaf assign'd ; 
 Yet a meek look 
 Hath interlin'd : 
 Thy board is full, yet humble guesta 
 Finde nests. 
 
 Thou tarriest, while I die, 
 And fall to nothing : Thou dost reign 
 And rule on high. 
 While I remain 
 In bitter grief ; yet am I stil'd 
 Thy childe. 
 
Longing 155 
 
 Lord, didst Thou leave Thy throne 
 Not to reUeve ? how can it be 
 That Thou art grown 
 Thus hard to me 1 
 Were sinne alive, good cause there were 
 To bear : 
 
 But now both sinne is dead, 
 And all Thy promises live and bide ; 
 That wants his head, 
 These speak and chide. 
 And in Thy bosome poure my tears. 
 As theirs. 
 
 Lord Jestj, heare my heart. 
 Which hath been broken now so long, 
 That ev'ry part 
 Hath got a tongue : 
 Thy beggars grow ; rid them away 
 To-day. 
 
 My Love, my Sweetnesse, heare : 
 By these Thy feet, at which my heart 
 Lies all the yeare. 
 Pluck out Thy dart. 
 And heal my troubled breast, which cries. 
 Which dies. 
 
 THE BAG 
 
 Away, despair ! my gracious Lord doth heare ; 
 Though windes and waves assault my keel. 
 He doth preserve it ; He doth steer 
 Ev'n when the boat seems most to reel. 
 Storms are the triumpli of His art ; 
 
 Well may He close His eyes, but not His heart. 
 
156 TJie Temple 
 
 Hast thou not heard that my Lord Jesus di'd ? 
 
 Then let me tell thee a strange storie ; 
 
 The God of power, as He did ride 
 
 In His majestick robes of gloria, 
 
 Resolv'd to 'light ; and so one day 
 He did descend, undressing all the way. 
 
 The starres His tire of light and rings obtain'd, 
 
 The cloud His bow, the fire His spear. 
 
 The sky His azure mantle gain'd ; 
 
 And when they ask'd what He would wear, 
 
 He smil'd, and said as He did go. 
 He had new clothes a-making here below. 
 
 When He was come, as travellers are wont, 
 
 He did repair unto an inne. 
 
 Both then, and after, many a brunt 
 
 He did endure to cancell sinne ; 
 
 And having giv'n the rest before, 
 Here He gave up His lite to pay our score. 
 
 But as He was returning, there came one 
 
 That ran upon Him with a spear. 
 
 He, who came hither all alone, 
 
 Bringing nor man, nor arms, nor fear, 
 
 Receiv'd the blow upon His side. 
 And straight He turn'd, and to His brethren cry'd, 
 
 ' If ye have anything to send or write — 
 
 I have no bag, but here is room — 
 
 Unto My Father's hands and sight, 
 
 Beleeve Me, it shall safely come. 
 
 That I shall minde what you impart. 
 Look, you may put it very neare My heart. 
 
The Bag 157 
 
 ' Or if hereafter any of My friends 
 Will use Me in this kiade, the doore 
 Shall still be open ; what he sends 
 I vdll present, and somewhat more. 
 Not to his hurt : sighs will convey 
 
 Anything to Me.' Heark, Despair, away 
 
 THE JEWS 
 
 PooRB nation, whose sweet sap and juice 
 Our cyens have purloin'd and left you drie; 
 Whose streams we got by the Apostles' sluce. 
 And use in baptisme, while ye pine and die ; 
 Who by not keeping once, became a debtor. 
 
 And now by keeping lose the letter ; — 
 
 Oh that my prayeis — mine, alas ! 
 Oh that some angel might a trumpet sound. 
 At which the C!hurch, falling upon her face, 
 Should orie so loud untiU the trump were drown'd. 
 And by that crie, of her deare Lord obtain 
 
 That your sweet sap might come again! 
 
 THE COLLAR 
 
 I STBTTCK the board, and cry'd, ' Ko more ; 
 
 I wQl abroad.' 
 What, shall I ever sigh and pine ? 
 My lines and Ufe are free ; free as the road. 
 Loose as the winde, as large as store. 
 
 Shall I be stiU in suit ? 
 
158 The Temple 
 
 Have I no harvest but a thorn 
 To let me bloud, and not restore 
 What I have lost with cordiall fruit ? 
 
 Sure there was wine 'j) 
 
 Before my sighs did drie it ; there was corn 
 
 Before my tears did drown it ; 
 Is the yeare onely lost to me? 
 Have I no bayes to crown it. 
 No flowers, no garlands gay 1 all blasted, 
 
 All wasted ? 
 
 Not so, my heart ; but there is fruit. 
 
 And thou hast hands. 
 Recover all thy sigh-blown age 
 On double pleasures ; leave thy cold dispute ' 
 Of what is fit and not ; forsake thy cage. 
 
 Thy rope of sands 
 Which pettie thoughts have made ; and made to thee 
 Good cable, to enforce and draw. 
 
 And be thy law. 
 While thou didst wink and wouldst not see. 
 Away ! take heed ; 
 I wiU abroad. 
 Call in thy death's-head there, tie up thy fears ; 
 He that forbears 
 To suit and serve his need 
 
 ^_^ ■ — .^serves his load. 
 
 ', . b- But as I rav'd and grew more fierce and wilde 
 
 At every word, 
 
 "t . Methought I heard one calling, ' Childe ' ; 
 
The Glimpse 159 
 
 THE GLIMPSE 
 
 Whithee away, Delight ? 
 Thou cam'st but nov/ ; wilt thou so soon depart. 
 
 And give me up to night ? 
 For many weeks of lingring pain and smart, 
 But one half houre of comfort for my heart ! 
 
 Mothinks Delight should have 
 More skill in musick, and keep better time. 
 
 Wert thou a winde or wave. 
 They quickly go and come with lesser crime ; 
 Flowrs look about, and die not in their prime. 
 
 Thy short abode and stay 
 Feeds not, but addes to the desire of meat. 
 
 Lime begg'd of old, they say, 
 A neighbour spring to cool his inward heat, 
 Which by the spring's accesse grew much more great. 
 
 In hope of thee, my heart 
 Pickt here and there a crumme, and would not die ; 
 
 But constant to his part, 
 When-as my fears foretold this, did replie, 
 A slender thread a gentle guest will tie. 
 
 Yet if the heart that wept 
 Must let thee go, return when it doth knock. 
 
 Although thy heap be kept 
 For future times, the droppings of the stock 
 May oft break forth, and never break the lock. 
 
 If I have more to spinne, 
 The wheel shall go, so that thy stay be short. 
 
 Thou knowst how grief and sinne 
 Disturb the work. 0, make me not their sport, 
 Who by Thy coming may be made a Court ! 
 
160 The Temple 
 
 ASSURANCE 
 
 O spiTEFULL bitter thought, 
 Bitterly BpitefuU thought ! Couldst thou invent 
 So high a torture ? is such poyson bought ? 
 Doubtlesse, but in the way of punishment ; 
 When wit contrives to meet with thee, 
 No such rank poyson can there be. 
 
 Thou saidst but even now 
 Tliat all was not bo fair as I conceiv'd 
 Betwixt my God and me. That I allow, 
 And coin large hopes, but that I was deceiv'd : 
 
 Either the league was broke, or neare it; 
 
 And that I had great cause to fear it. 
 
 And what to this ? what more 
 Could poyson, if it had a tongue, expresse ? 
 What is thy aim ? wouldst thou unlock the doore 
 To cold despairs and gnawing pensivenesse 1 
 
 Wouldst thou raise devils ? I see, I know ; 
 
 I writ thy purpose long ago. 
 
 But I will to my Father, 
 Who heard thee say it. most gracious Lord, 
 If all the hope and comfort that I gather 
 Were from myself, I had not half a word. 
 
 Not half a letter to oppose 
 
 What is objected by my foes. 
 
 But Thou art my desert : 
 And in this league, which now my foes invade, 
 Thou art not onely to perform Thy part. 
 But also mine ; as when the league was made, 
 Thou didst at once Thyself indite, 
 And hold my hand while I did write. 
 
Assurance 161 
 
 Wherefore, if Thou canst fail, 
 Then can Thy truth and I : but while rocks stand 
 And rivers stinre. Thou canst not shrink or quail; 
 Yea, when both rocks and all things shall disband, 
 Then shalt Thou be my rock and tower, 
 And make their ruine praise Thy power. 
 
 Now, foolish thought, go on. 
 Spin out thy thread, and make thereof a coat 
 To hide thy shame ; for thou hast cast a bone 
 Which bounds on thee, and will not down thy throat : 
 What for it self Love once b^an, 
 Now Love and Truth will end in man. 
 
 THE CALL 
 
 Come, my Way, my Truth, my Life ! 
 Such a Way as gives us breath. 
 Such a Truth as ends all strife. 
 Such a Life as killeth Death. 
 
 Come, my Light, my Feast, my Strength ! 
 Such a Light as shows a feast. 
 Such a Feast as mends in length. 
 Such a Strength as makes his guest. 
 
 Come, my Joy, my Love, my Heart ! 
 Such a Joy as none can move, 
 Such a Love as none can part. 
 Such a Heart as joyes in love. 
 
162 Tlie Temple 
 
 CLASPING OF HANDS 
 
 LoED, Thou art mine, and I am Thine, 
 If mine I am ; and Thine much more 
 Than I or ought or can be mine. 
 Yet to be Thine doth me restore, 
 So that again I now am mine, 
 And with advantage mine the more. 
 Since this being mine brings with it Thine, 
 And Thou with me dost Thee restore : 
 If I without Thee would be mine, 
 I neither should be mine nor Thine. 
 
 Lord, I am Thine, and Thou art mine ; 
 So mine Thou art, that something more 
 I may presume Thee mine then Thine, 
 For Thou didst suffer to restore 
 Not Thee, but me, and to be mine : 
 And with advantage mine the more, 
 Since Thou in death wast none of Thine, 
 Yet then as mine didst me restore : 
 
 0, be mine still ; still make me Thine ; 
 
 Or rather make no Thine and mine. 
 
 PRAISE 
 
 Lord, I will mean and speak Thy praise. 
 Thy praise alone ; 
 My busie heart shall spin it all my dayes ; 
 
 And when it stops for want of store, 
 
 Tlien wiU I wring it with a sigh or grone 
 
 That Thou mayst yet have more. 
 
Praise 163 
 
 When Thou dost favour any action. 
 It runnes, it flies ; 
 All things concurre to give it a perfection. 
 
 That which had but two legs before, 
 When Thou dost blesse, hath twelve ; one wheel doth 
 rise 
 To twentie then, or more. 
 
 But when Thou dost on businesse blow. 
 It hangs, it clogs ; 
 Not all the teams of Albion in a row 
 Can hale or draw it out of doore : 
 Legs are but stumps, and Pharaoh's wheels but logs. 
 And struggling hinders more. 
 
 Thousands of things do Thee employ 
 In ruling all 
 This spacious globe : angels must have their joy. 
 
 Devils their rod, the sea his shore, 
 The windes their stint : and yet when I did call, 
 Thou heardst my call, and more. 
 
 I have not lost one single tear ; 
 But when mine eyes 
 Did weep to heav'n, they found a bottle there — 
 
 As we have boxes for the poor — 
 Readie to take them in ; yet of a size 
 That would contain much more. 
 
 But after Thou hadst slipt a drop 
 From Thy right eye — 
 Which there did hang like streamers neare the top 
 
 Of some fair church, to show the sore 
 And bloudie battell which Thou once didst trie — 
 The glasse was full and more. 
 m2 
 
164 The Temple 
 
 Wherefore I sing. Yet since my heart, 
 Though press'd, runnes thin ; 
 that I might some other hearts convert, 
 
 And so take up at use good store ; 
 That to Thy chests there might be coming in 
 Both all my praise, and more ! 
 
 JOSEPH'S COAT 
 
 Wounded I sing, tormented I indite. 
 Thrown down I fall into a bed and rest : 
 Sorrow hath chang'd its note ; such, is His will 
 Who-changeth all things as Him pleaseth best: 
 
 Tor well He knows, if but one grief and smart 
 Among my many had his full career. 
 Sure it would carrie with it ev'n my heart. 
 And both would runne until they found a biere 
 
 To fetch the bodie, both being due to grief 
 But He hath spoil'd the race ; and giv'n to anguish 
 One of Joye's coats, 'ticing it with relief 
 To linger in me, and together languish. 
 
 I live to shew His power. Who once did bring 
 My joyes to weep, and now my griefs to sing. 
 
 THE PULLEY 
 
 When God at first made man, 
 Having a glasse of blessings standing by, 
 ' Let us,' said He, ' poure on him all we can ; 
 Let the world's riches, which dispersed lie, 
 
 Contract into a span.' 
 
Tlie Pulley 165 
 
 So strength first made a way ; 
 Then beautie flow'd, then wisdome, honour, pleasure ; 
 When almost all was out, God made a stay, 
 Perceiving that, alone of all His treasure. 
 
 Rest in the bottome lay. i 
 
 ' For if I should,' said He, ^ yS^^ ^ 
 
 ' Bestow this jewell also on My creature, . y^ ^ \j^ 
 He would adore My gifts in stead of Me, v\ \^ 
 And rest in Nature, not the God of Nature : 
 
 So both should losers be. 
 
 ' Yet let him keep the rest. 
 But keep them with repining restlessnesse ; 
 Let him be rich and wearie, that at least. 
 If goodnesse leade him not, yet wearineese 
 
 May tosse him to My breast.' 
 
 THE PRIESTHOOD 
 
 Blest Order, which in power dost so excell. 
 That with th' one hand thou liftest to the sky. 
 And with the other throwest down to hell 
 In thy just censures ; fain would I draw nigh, 
 Fain put thee on, exchanging my lay-sword 
 For that of th' Holy Word. 
 
 But thou art fire, sacred and hallow'd fire. 
 And I but earth and clay ; should I presume 
 To wear thy habit, the severe attire 
 My slender compositions might consume : 
 I am both foul and brittle, much unfit 
 To deal in Holy Writ. 
 
166 The Temple 
 
 Yet have I often seen, by cunning hand 
 And force of fire, what curious things are made 
 Of wretched earth. Where once I soorn'd to stand, 
 That earth is fitted, by the fire and trade 
 Of skilfull artists, for the boards of those 
 Who make the bravest shows. 
 
 But since those great ones, be they ne're so great. 
 Come from the earth, from whence those vessels come. 
 So that at once both feeder, dish, and meat 
 Have one beginning and one finall summe ; 
 I do not greatly wonder at the sight. 
 If earth in earth delight. 
 
 But th' holy men of God such vessels are 
 As serve Him up Who all the world commands. 
 When God vouchsafeth to become our fare. 
 Their hands convey Him Who conveys their hands : 
 0, what pure things, most pure, must those things be 
 Who bring my God to me ! 
 
 Wherefore I dare not, I, put forth my hand 
 To hold the Ark, although it seem to shake 
 Tlirough th' old sinnes and new doctrines of our land ; 
 Onely, since God doth often vessels make 
 Of lowly matter for high usee meet, 
 I throw me at His feet. 
 
 There will I lie, untill my Maker seek 
 For some mean stuffe whereon to show His skill ; 
 Then is my time. The distance of the meek 
 Doth flatter power. Lest good come short of ill 
 In praising might, the poore do by submission 
 What pride by opposition. 
 
The Search 167 
 
 THE SEARCH 
 
 WmTHEB, O whither art Thou fled. 
 
 My Lord, my Love ? 
 My searches are my daily bread. 
 
 Yet never prove. 
 
 My knees pierce th' earth, mine eies the skie ; 
 
 And yet the sphere 
 And centre both to me denie 
 
 That Thou art there. 
 
 Yet can I mark how herbs below 
 
 Grow green and gay, 
 As if to meet Thee they did know, 
 
 While I decay. 
 
 Yet can I mark how starres above 
 
 Simper and shine, " 
 As having keyes unto Thy love. 
 
 While poore I pine. 
 
 I sent a sigh to seek Thee out, 
 
 Deep drawn in pain, 
 Wing'd like an arrow ; but my scout 
 
 Returns in vain. 
 
 I tun'd another — having store — 
 
 Into a grone. 
 Because the search was dumbe before ; 
 
 But all was one. 
 
 Lord, dost Thou some new fabrick mold 
 
 Which favour winnes, 
 And keeps Thee present ; leaving th' old 
 
 Unto their sinnes ? 
 
168 TJie Tempk 
 
 Where is my God ? what hidden place 
 Conceak Thee etill ? 
 
 What covert dare eclipse Thy face ? 
 Is it Thy will ? 
 
 O let not that of any thing ; 
 
 Let rather brasse. 
 Or steel, or mountains be Thy ring, 
 
 And I will passe. 
 
 Thy ^^11 such an intrenching is 
 As passeth thought : 
 
 To it all strength, all subtUties 
 
 Are things of nought. 
 
 Thy will such a strange distance is 
 
 As that to it 
 East and West touch, the poles do kisse. 
 
 And parallels meet. 
 
 Since, then, my grief must be as large 
 
 As is Thy space. 
 Thy distance from me ; see my charge. 
 
 Lord, see my case. 
 
 O take these barres, these lengths away ; 
 
 Turn, and restore me : 
 ' Be not Almightie,' let me say, 
 
 ' Against, but for me.' 
 
 When Thou dost turn, and wilt be neare, 
 What edge so keen, 
 
 What point so piercing can appeare 
 To come between ? 
 
 For as Thy absence doth excell 
 All distance known. 
 
 So doth Thy nearnesse bear the bell. 
 Making two one. 
 
Qrief 169 
 
 GRIEF 
 
 O WHO will give me tears ? Come, all ye springs, 
 Dwell in my head and eyes ; come, clouds and rain ; 
 My grief hath need of all the wat'ry things 
 That nature hath produc'd : let ev'ry vein 
 Suck up a river to supply mine eyes. 
 My weary weeping eyes, too drie for me, 
 Unlesse they get new conduits, new supplies. 
 To bear them out, and with my state agree. 
 What are two shallow foords, two little spouts 
 Of a lesse world ? the greater is but small, 
 A narrow cupboard for my griefs and doubts. 
 Which want provision in the midst of all. 
 Verses, ye are too fine a thing, too wise. 
 For my rough sorrows ; cease, be dumbe and mute. 
 Give up your feet and running to mine eyes 
 And keep your measures for some lover's lute. 
 Whose grief allows him musick and a ryme ; 
 For mine excludes both measure, tune, and time : 
 Alas, my God ! 
 
 THE CROSSE 
 
 What is this strange and uncouth thing, 
 To make me sigh, and seek, and faint, and die, 
 Untill I had some place where I might sing 
 
 And serve Thee ; and not onely I, 
 But all my wealth and familie might combine 
 To set Thy honour up as our designe ? 
 
170 Tlie Temple 
 
 And then when, after much delay, 
 Much wrastling, many a combate, this deare end. 
 So much desir'd, is giv'n ; to take away 
 
 My power to serve Thee ; to unbend 
 All my abilities, my designes confound. 
 And lay my threatnings bleeding on the ground. 
 
 One ague dwelleth in my bones, 
 Another in my soul, — the memorie 
 What I would do for Thee, if once my grones 
 
 Could be aUow'd for harmonic ; — 
 I am in all a weak disabled thing. 
 Save in the sight thereof, where strength doth sting. 
 
 Besides, things sort not to my will 
 Ev'n when my will doth studie Thy renown : 
 Thou tumest th' edge of all things on me still, 
 
 Taking me up to throw me down ; 
 So that, ev'n when my hopes seem to be sped, 
 I am to grief alive, to them as dead. 
 
 To have my aim, and yet to be 
 Farther from it then when I bent my bow ; 
 To make my hopes my torture, and the fee 
 
 Of all my woes another wo. 
 Is in the midst of delicates to need. 
 And ev'n in Paradise to be a weed. 
 
 Ah, my deare Father, ease my smart ! 
 These contrarieties crush me ; these crosse actions 
 Doe winde a rope about, and cut my heart : 
 And yet since these Thy contradictions 
 \Are properly a crosse felt by Thy Sonne 
 ^yith but f oure words, my words, ' Thy will be done ! ' 
 
 \ni 
 
Tlie Flower 171 
 
 THE FLOWER 
 
 How fresh, Lord, how sweet and clean 
 Are Thy returns ! ev'n as the flowers in Spring, 
 
 To which, besides their own demean. 
 The late-past frosts tributes of pleasure bring ; 
 Grief melts away 
 Like snow in May, 
 As if there were no such cold thing. 
 
 Who would have thought my shrivel'd heart 
 Could have recover'd greeimesse ? It was gone 
 
 Quite under ground ; as flowers depart 
 To see their mother-root, when they have blown, 
 Where they together 
 All the hard weather. 
 Dead to the world, keep house unknown. 
 
 These are Thy wonders, Lord of power ,__ 
 Killing and quickning, bringing down to Hell 
 
 And up to Heaven in an houre ; 
 Making a chiming of a passing-bell. 
 We say amisse 
 This or that is ; 
 Thy word is aU, if we could spell. 
 
 that I once past changing were. 
 Fast in Thy Paradise, where no flower can wither ; 
 
 Many a Spring I shoot up fair, 
 Offring at Heav'n, growing and groning thither; 
 Nor doth my flower 
 Want a Spring-showre, 
 My sinnes and I joyning together. 
 
172 The Temple 
 
 But while I grow in a straight line, 
 Still upwards bent, asjf Heav'n were mine own^ 
 
 Thy anger comes, and I decline : 
 What frost to that ? what pole is not the zone 
 Where all things burn. 
 When Thou dost turn, 
 And the least frown of Thine is shown ? - 'f^ 
 
 And now in age I bud again, 
 After so many deaths I live and write ; 
 
 I once more smell the dew and rain. 
 And relish versing : 0, my onely Light, - 
 It cannot be 
 That I am he 
 On whom Thy tempests fell all night. 
 
 These are Thy wonders, Lord of love, - "f " 
 To make us see we are but flow'rs that glide ; 
 Which when we once can find and prove. 
 Thou hast a garden for us where to bide ; 
 Who would be more, 
 Swelling through store. 
 Forfeit their Paradise by their pride. 
 
 DOTAGE 
 
 False glozing pleasures, casks of happinesse, 
 Foohsh night-fires, women's and children's wishes, 
 Chases in arras, guilded emptinesse. 
 Shadows well mounted, dreams in a career, 
 Embroider'd lyes, nothing between two dishes : 
 These are the pleasures here. 
 
Dotage 173 
 
 True earnest sorrows, rooted miseries. 
 Anguish in grain, vexations ripe and blown, 
 Sure-footed griefs, solid calamities. 
 Plain demonstrations, evident and cleare. 
 Fetching their proofs ev'n from the very bone : 
 These are the sorrows here. 
 
 But the folly of distracted men ! 
 Who griefs in earnest, joyes in jest pursue ; 
 Preferring, like brute beasts, a lothsome den 
 Before a Court, ev'n that above so cleare, 
 Where are no sorrows, but delights more true 
 Then miseries are here ! 
 
 THE SONNE 
 
 Let forrain nations of their language boast 
 What fine varietie each tongue affords ; 
 I like our language, as our men and coast ; 
 Who cannot dresse it well, want wit, not words. 
 How neatly do we give one onely name 
 To parents' issue and the sunne's bright starre ! 
 A sonrie is light and fruit ; a fruitfuU flame 
 Chasing the father's dimnesse, carried far 
 From the first man in the East to fresh and new 
 Western discov'ries of posteritie. 
 So in one word our Lord's humilitie 
 We turn upon Him in a sense most true ; 
 For what Christ once in humblenesse began, 
 We Him in glorie caU The Sonne of Man. 
 
174 The Temple 
 
 A TRUE HYSIXE 
 
 / 
 
 My Joy, my Life, my Crown '. 
 My heart was meaning all the day. 
 
 Somewhat it iain would say. 
 And still it runneth mutt'ring up and down 
 With only this, My Joy, my life, my Crown ! 
 
 Yet slight not ihese few words ; 
 If truly said, they may take part 
 
 Among the best in art : 
 The finenesse which a hymne or pealme afEoids 
 Is when the soul into the lines accords. 
 
 Hs who craves all the minde. 
 And all the soul, and strength, and time 
 
 If the words onely ryme. 
 Justly complains that somewhat is behiode 
 To make his verse, or write a hymne in Idnde. 
 
 Whereas, if th' heart be moved. 
 Although the verse be somewhat scant, 
 God doth si^plie the want ; 
 As when th' heart sayes, Kighing to be approved, 
 ' O could I love ! ' and stops, God writeth ' Loved.' 
 
 THE AXSWER 
 
 Mr comforts drop and melt away like snow ; 
 I shake my head, and aD the thoughts and ends 
 Which my firace youth did handle, fall and flow 
 lake leaves about me, or Ukc summer-friends. 
 
The Answer 175 
 
 Flyes of estates and sunne- shine. But to all 
 
 Who think me eager, hot, and undertaking. 
 
 But in my prosecutions slack and small ; 
 
 As a young exhalation, newly waking. 
 
 Scorns his first bed of dirt, and means the sky. 
 
 But cooling by the way, grows pursie and slow 
 
 And setling to a cloud, doth live and die 
 
 In that dark state of tears, — to all that so 
 
 Show me and set me, I have one reply. 
 
 Which they that know the rest know more then I. 
 
 A DIALOGUE-ANTHEME 
 
 Chbistian. Death 
 
 chbistian 
 Alas, poore Death, where is thy glorie ? 
 Where is thy famous force, thy ancient sting ? 
 
 DEATH 
 
 Alas, poore mortall, void of storie, 
 
 Go spell and reade how I have kill'd thy King. 
 
 CHRISTIAN 
 
 Poore Death ! and who was hurt thereby ? 
 
 Thy curse being laid on Him makes thee accurst. 
 
 DEATH 
 
 Let losers talk, yet thou shalt die ; 
 These arms shall crush thee. 
 
 CHBISTIAK 
 
 Spare not, do thy worst : 
 I shall be one day better then before ; 
 Thou so much worse, that thou shalt be no more. 
 
176 The Temple 
 
 THE WATER-COURSE 
 
 Thou who dost dwell and linger here below, 
 Since the condition of this world is frail. 
 Where of all plants afflictions soonest grow. 
 If troubles overtake thee, do not wail ; 
 
 For who can look for lease that loveth ] o^ f » 
 
 But rather turn the pipe and water's course 
 To serve thy sinnes, and furnish thee with store 
 Of sov'raigne tears, springing from true remorse ; 
 That so in purenesse thou mayst Him a>dore 
 
 Who gives to man, as He sees fit / Salvation. 
 
 ( Damnation. 
 
 SELF-CONDEMNATION 
 
 Thou who condemnest Jewish hate 
 For choosing Barabbas a murderer 
 Before the Lord of glorie. 
 Look back upon thine own estate. 
 Call home thine eye, that busie wanderer. 
 That choice may be thy storie. 
 
 He that doth love, and love amisse. 
 
 This world's delights before true Christian joy, 
 
 Hath made a Jewish choice : 
 
 The World an ancient murderer is ; 
 
 Thousands of souls it hath and dotii destroy 
 
 With her enchanting voice. 
 
Siif-Condemnaiioti 
 
 He ihar hatli made a sorrie wedding 
 Between liis soul and gold, and hath preferr'd 
 False gain b^ore the true. 
 Hath done what he condemues in reading ; 
 Far he hath sold for money his deare Lord, 
 And is a Judas-Jew. 
 
 Thus we prevent the last great day, 
 And judge our selves. That light iduch sin and pa^on 
 Did before dimme and choke, 
 ^Tien once those snufies are ta'ne away, 
 Sliines bright and cleare, ev'n unto condemnation. 
 Without excuse or cloke. 
 
 BITTER-SWEET 
 
 Ah. my deare angrie Lord, 
 Since Thou doet love, ret strike ; 
 Civst down, yet help afford ; 
 Sure I will do the like. 
 
 I will complain, yet praise, 
 I will bewail, approve ; 
 And all my sowre-sweet dayea 
 I will lament, and love. 
 
 THE GLAXCE 
 
 Whkjt fiist Thy sfweet and gracious eve 
 VoachsaTd, ev'n in the midst of youth and night. 
 To look upon me, who b^ore did lie 
 Weltring m sinne. 
 
178 The Temple 
 
 I felt a sugred strange delight. 
 Passing aU cordials made by any art, 
 Bedew, embalme, and overrunne my heart, 
 And take it in. 
 
 Since that time many a bitter storm 
 My soul hath felt, ev'n able to destroy, 
 Had the malicious and Ul-meaning harm 
 His swing and sway ; 
 But still Thy sweet originall joy. 
 Sprung from Thine eye, did work within my soul, 
 And surging griefs, when they grew bold, control!. 
 And got the day. 
 
 If Thy first glance so powerful] be — 
 A mirth but open'd, and seal'd up again — 
 What wonders shall we feel when we shall see 
 Thy full-ey'd love ! 
 When Thou shalt look us out of pain, 
 And one aspect of Thine spend in delight 
 More then a thousand sunnes disburse in light. 
 In heav'n above. 
 
 THE TWENTY-THIRD PSALME 
 
 The God of love my Shepherd is. 
 And He that doth me feed. 
 
 While He is mine, and I am His, 
 What can I want or need ? 
 
 He leads me to the tender grasse, 
 Where I both feed and rest ; 
 
 Then to the streams that gently passe i 
 In both I have the best. 
 
The Twenty-third Psdme 179 
 
 Or if I stray, He doth convert. 
 And bring my minde in frame : 
 
 And all this not for my desert. 
 But for His holy name. 
 
 Yea, in Death's shadie black abode 
 
 WeU may I walk, not fear ; 
 For Thou art with me, and Thy rod 
 
 To guide. Thy staffe to bear. 
 
 Nay, Thou dost make me sit and dino 
 
 Ev'n in my enemies' sight ; 
 My head with oyl, my cup with wine 
 
 Runnes over day and night. 
 
 Surely Thy sweet and wondrous love 
 
 Shall measure all my dayes ; 
 And as it never shall remove, 
 
 So neither shall my praise. 
 
 MARIE MAGDALENE 
 
 When blessed Marie wip'd her Saviour's feet — 
 Whose precepts she had trampled on before — 
 And wore them for a Jewell on her head. 
 
 Shewing His steps should be the street 
 
 Wherein she thenceforth evermore 
 With pensive humblenesse would Uve and tread ; 
 
 She being stain'd herself, why did she strive 
 To make Him clean Who could not be defil'd 1 
 Why kept she not her teajs for her own faults. 
 And not His feet ? Though we could dive 
 In tears like seas, our siimes are pil'd 
 Deeper then they, in words, and works, and thoughts. 
 
 n2 
 
180 Tlie Temple 
 
 Deare soul, she knew Who did vouchsafe and deigne 
 To bear her filth, and that her sinnes did dash 
 Ev'n God Himself ; wherefore she was not loth, 
 
 As she had brought wherewith to stain. 
 
 So to bring in wherewith to wash : 
 And yet in washing one she washed both. 
 
 AARON 
 
 HoLiNESSE on the head, 
 Light and perfections on the breast, 
 Harmonious bells below, raising the dead 
 To leade them unto life and rest : 
 
 Thus are true Aarons drest : 
 
 Profanenesse in my head, 
 Defects and darknesse in my breast, 
 A noise of passions ringing me for dead 
 Unto a place where is no rest : 
 
 Poore priest, thus am I drest. 
 
 Onely another head 
 I have, another heart and breast. 
 Another musick, making live, not dead, 
 Without Whom I could have no rest : 
 In Him I am well drest. 
 
 Christ is my onely head. 
 My alone onely heart and breast, 
 My onely musick, striking me ev'n dead, 
 That to the old man I may rest, 
 And be in Him new-drest. 
 
Aaron 181 
 
 So, holy in my head, 
 Perfect and light in my deare breast, 
 My doctrine tun'd by Christ, Who is not dead, 
 But lives in me while I do rest, 
 
 Come, people ; Aaron 's drest. 
 
 THE 0DOUR 
 2 Cor. xi. 
 
 How sweetly doth ' My. Master ' sound ! ' My Master ! 
 
 As amber-greese leaves a rich scent 
 Unto the taster, 
 
 So do these words a sweet content, 
 An orientall fragrancie, ' My Master.' 
 
 With these all day I do perfume my minde. 
 My minde ev'n thrust into them both ; 
 
 That I might finde 
 What cordials make this curious broth, 
 
 This broth of smells, that feeds and fats my minde. 
 
 ' My Master,' shall I speak ? that to Thee 
 
 ' My servant ' were a little so, 
 As flesh may be ; 
 
 That these two words might creep and grow 
 To some degree of spicinesse to Thee ! 
 
 Then should the pomander, which was before 
 A speaking sweet, mend by reflection, 
 
 And tell me more ; 
 For pardon of my imperfection 
 
 Would warm and work it sweeter then before. 
 
182 Tlie Temple 
 
 For when ' My Master,* which alone is sweet, 
 And ev'n in my unworthinesse pleasing. 
 
 Shall call and meet, 
 'My servant,' as Thee not displeasing. 
 
 That call is bat the breathing of the sweet. 
 
 This breathing wonid with gains, by sweetning me- 
 As sweet things tetffick when they meet — 
 
 Retnm to Thee ; 
 And so this new commerce and sweet 
 
 Should all my life employ and bnsie me. 
 
 THE FOIL 
 
 If we conld see below 
 The sphere of Vertae and each RhiTiing grace 
 
 As plainly as that abore doth show. 
 This were the bett» skie, the bright^ place. 
 
 Giod hath made starres the fofl 
 To set oflE vertnes, griefe to set off sinning ; 
 
 Yet in this wretched world we toil. 
 As if gri^ were not fool, nor vertae winning. 
 
 THE rORERTJXN-ERS 
 
 Thb harbingras are come : see, see their maik ; 
 White is their coloar, and behold my head. 
 Bat most they have my brain ! must they dispaik 
 Tliose sparkling notions which therein were br^ ? 
 
 Mast dolnesse torn me to a dod ? 
 Yet have they Irft me, ' Thou art stiD my God.' 
 
Tim Forerunners 183 
 
 Good men ye be to leave me my best room, 
 Ev'n all my heart, and what is lodged there : 
 I passe not, I, what of the rest become. 
 So ' Thou art still my Gtod ' be out of fear. 
 
 He wiU be pleased with that dittie ; 
 And if I please Him, I write fine and wittie. 
 
 Farewell, sweet phrases, lovely metaphors : 
 But wiU ye leave me thus ? when ye before 
 Of stews and brothels onely knew the doores, 
 Then did I wash you with my tears, and more. 
 
 Brought you to Chiurch well-drest and clad : 
 My God must have my best, ev'n all I had. 
 
 Lovely enchanting language, sugar-cane, 
 Hony of roses, whither ;^5^^^hou flie ? "^ ^ 
 
 Hath some fond lover ^ic'd thee to thy bane ? 
 And wilt thou leave the Church, and love a stie ? 
 
 Fie ! thou wilt soil thy broider'd coat. 
 And hurt thyself and him that sings the note. 
 
 Let foolish lovers, if they will love dung,— Cr^\ 
 With canvas, not with arras, clothe their shame ; ) 
 Let Follie speak in her own native tongue : 
 True Beautie dwells on high ; ours is a flame 
 
 But borrow'd thence to light us thither : , 
 Beautie and beauteous words should go together." ^ 
 
 Yet if you go, I passe not ; take your way : 
 For ' Thou art still my God ' is all that ye 
 Perhaps with more embellishment can say. 
 Go, birds of Spring ; let Winter have his fee ; 
 Let a bleak palenesse chalk the doore, ' 
 So all within be livelier then before. 
 
184 T}ie Temple 
 
 THE ROSE 
 
 Peesse me not to take more pleasure 
 In this world of sugred lies, 
 
 And to use a larger measure 
 
 Then my strict yet welcome size. 
 
 Pirst, there is no pleasure here : 
 Colour'd griefs indeed there are. 
 
 Blushing woes that look as cleare 
 As if they could beautie spare. 
 
 Or if such deceits there be — 
 
 Such dehghts I meant to say — 
 
 There are no such things to me. 
 
 Who have pass'd my right away. 
 
 But I will not much oppose 
 
 Unto what you now advise ; 
 
 Onely take this gentle rose. 
 
 And therein my answer lies. 
 
 What is fairer then a rose ? 
 
 What is sweeter ? yet it purgeth. 
 Purgings enmitie disclose, 
 
 Enmitie forbearance urgeth. 
 
 If, then, all that worldlings prize 
 
 Be contracted to a rose. 
 Sweetly there indeed it lies. 
 
 But it biteth in the close. 
 
 So this flower doth judge and sentence 
 Worldly joyes to be a scourge ; 
 
 For they all produce repentance. 
 And repentance is a jjuige. 
 
The Bose 1S5 
 
 But I health, not pll^"sick, choose : 
 Onely, though I you oppose. 
 
 Say that fairly I refuse, 
 
 For my answer is a i-ose. 
 
 DISCIPLIXE 
 
 Thbow a\<-ay Tliy rod. 
 Throw a^vay Thy wrath ; 
 
 my God, 
 Take the gentle path. 
 
 For my heart's desire 
 Unto Thine is bent ; 
 
 1 aspire 
 To a full consent. 
 
 Xor a word or look 
 I affect to own. 
 
 But by book. 
 And Thy Book alone. 
 
 Though I fail, I weep ; 
 Though I halt in pace. 
 
 Yet I creep 
 To the throne of grace. 
 
 Then let wrath remove. 
 Love will do the deed ; 
 
 For with love 
 Stonie hearts will bleed. 
 
 Love is swift of foot ; 
 Love 's a man of warre. 
 
 And can shoot, 
 And can hit from farie. 
 
186 The Temple 
 
 Who can scape his bow 1 
 That which wrought on Thee, 
 
 Brought Thee low. 
 Needs must work on me. 
 
 Throw away Thy rod : 
 Though man frailties hath, 
 
 Thou art God ; 
 Throw away Thy wrath. 
 
 THE INVITATION 
 
 Come ye hither, all whose taste 
 
 Is your waste ; 
 
 Save your cost and mend your fare ; 
 
 God is here prepar'd and drest. 
 
 And the feast, 
 
 God, in Whom all dainties are. 
 
 Come ye hither, all whom wine 
 
 Doth define. 
 
 Naming you not to your good ; 
 
 Weep what ye have drunk amisse, 
 
 And drink this. 
 
 Which, before ye drink, is bloud. 
 
 Come ye hither, all whom pain 
 
 Doth arraigne, 
 
 Bringing all your sinnes to sight ; 
 
 Taste and fear not : God is here 
 
 In this cheer. 
 
 And on sinne doth cast the fright. 
 
TJie Inmtation 187 
 
 Ck)me ye hither, all whom joy 
 
 Doth destroy. 
 
 While ye graze without your bounds; ■ 
 
 Here is joy that drowneth quit« 
 
 Your delight. 
 
 As a floud the lower grounds. 
 
 Come ye hither, all whose love 
 
 Is your dove. 
 
 And exalts you to the side : 
 
 Here is love, which, having breath 
 
 Ev'n in death. 
 
 After death can never die. 
 
 Lord, I have invited all, 
 
 And I shall 
 Still invite, still call to Thee ; 
 For it seems but just and right 
 
 In my sight. 
 Where is all, there all should be. 
 
 THE BANQUET 
 
 Welcome, sweet and sacred cheer. 
 
 Welcome deare ; 
 
 With me, in me, live and dwell : 
 
 For thy neatnesse passeth sight. 
 
 Thy delight 
 
 Passeth tongue to taste or tell. 
 
 O what sweetnesse . from the bowl 
 
 Fills my soul. 
 
 Such as is and makes divine ! 
 
 Is some starre — ^fled from the sphere — 
 Melted there. 
 
 As we sugar melt in wine 1 
 
188 The Temple 
 
 Or liath sweetnesse in the bread 
 
 Made a head 
 
 To subdue the smell of sinne ; 
 
 riowers, and gummes, and powders giving 
 All their living, 
 
 Lest the enemie should winne ? 
 
 Doubtlesse neither starre nor flower 
 
 Hath the power 
 
 Such a sweetnesse to impart ; 
 
 Onely God, Who gives perfumes. 
 
 Flesh assumes. 
 
 And with it perfumes my heart. 
 
 But as pomanders and wood 
 
 Still are good, 
 
 Yet being bruis'd are better scented ; 
 
 God, to show how farre His love 
 
 Could improve, 
 
 Here, as broken, is presented. 
 
 When I had forgot my birth. 
 
 And on Earth 
 
 In delights of Earth was drown'd, 
 
 God took bloud, and needs would be 
 Spilt with me. 
 
 And so found me on the ground. 
 
 Having rais'd me to look up. 
 
 In a cup 
 
 Sweetly He doth meet my taste ; 
 
 But I still being low and short, 
 
 Farre from Court, 
 
 Wine becomes a wing at last. 
 
Tlie Banquet 189 
 
 For with it alone I flie 
 
 To the side ; 
 Where I weep mine eyes, and see 
 What I seek for, what I sue ; 
 
 Him I view 
 Who hath done so much for me. 
 
 Let the wonder of this pitie 
 
 Be my dittie. 
 
 And take up my lines and life ; 
 
 Hearken under pain of death. 
 
 Hands and breath. 
 
 Strive in this, and love the strife. 
 
 THE POSIE 
 
 Let wits contest. 
 And with their words and posies windows fill ; 
 
 ' Lesse then the least 
 Of all Thy mercies' is my posie still. 
 
 This on my ring, 
 Tliis by my picture, in my book I write ; 
 
 Whether I sing. 
 Or say, or dictate, this is my delight. 
 
 Invention, rest ; 
 Comparifions, go play ; wit, use thy will ; 
 
 ' Lesse then the least 
 Of all God's mercies ' is my posie still. 
 
190 The Temple 
 
 A PARODIE 
 
 Soul's joy, when Thou art gone. 
 
 And I alone. 
 
 Which cannot be. 
 Because Thou dost abide with me, 
 And I depend on Thee ; 
 
 Yet when Thou dost suppresse 
 
 The cheerfulnesse 
 
 Of Thy abode, 
 
 And in my powers not stirre abroad, 
 
 But leave me to my load, — 
 
 what a damp and shade 
 
 Doth me invade ! 
 
 No stormie night 
 Can so afflict, or so afEright, 
 As Thy ecUpsM light. 
 
 Ah, Lord, do not withdraw. 
 
 Lest want of aw 
 
 Make sinne appeare. 
 And when Thou dost but shine lease clearc, 
 Say that Thou art not here. 
 
 And then what life I have. 
 
 While Sinne doth rave. 
 And falsly boast. 
 
 That I may seek, but Thou art lost. 
 Thou and done Thou know'st. 
 
 what a deadly cold 
 
 Doth me infold ! 
 
 I half beleeve 
 That Sinne says true; but while I grieve. 
 Thou com'st and dost relieve. 
 
TU Elixer 191 
 
 THE ELIXER 
 
 Teach me, my God and King, 
 In all things Thee to see. 
 And what I do in any thing 
 To do it as for Thee. 
 
 Not rudely, as a beast. 
 To runne into an action 
 But still to make Thee prepossest. 
 And give it his perfection. 
 
 A man that looks on glasse, 
 On it may stay his eye ; 
 Or if he pleaseth, through it passo. 
 And then the heav'n espie. 
 
 AH may of Thee partake : 
 Nothiijg can be so mean 
 Which with his tincture, ' for Thy sake,' 
 Will not grow bright and clean. 
 
 A servant with this clause 
 Makes drudgerie divine ; 
 Who sweeps a room as for Thy laws 
 Makes that and th' action fine. 
 
 This is the famous stone 
 That turneth all to gold ; 
 For that which God doth touch and own 
 Cannot for lesse be told. 
 
192 Tlie Temple 
 
 A WREATH 
 
 A WREATHED garland of deserved praise. 
 
 Of praise deserved, unto Thee I give, 
 
 I give to Thee, Who knowest all my wayes, 
 
 My crookM winding wayes, wherein I live — 
 
 Wherein I die, not live ; for life is straight. 
 
 Straight as a line, and ever tends to Thee — 
 
 To Thee, Who art more farre above deceit 
 
 Then deceit seems above simplicitie. 
 
 Give me simplicitie, that I may live ; 
 
 So live and like, that I may know Thy wayes; 
 
 Know them, and practise them ; then shall I give. 
 
 For this poore wreath, give Thee a crown of praise. 
 
 DEATH 
 
 Death, thou wast once an uncouth hideous thing. 
 Nothing but bones, 
 The sad effect of sadder grones : 
 Thy mouth was open, but thou couldst not sing. 
 
 For we consider'd thee as at some six 
 Or ten yeares hence, 
 After the losse of life and sense ; 
 Elesh being turn'd to dust, and bones to sticks. 
 
 We lookt on this side of thee, shooting short, 
 Wliere we did linde 
 The shells of fledge souls left behinde ; 
 Dry dust, which sheds no tears, but may extort. 
 
Death 193 
 
 But since our Saviour's death did put some bloud 
 Into thy face, 
 Thou art grown fair and full of grace, 
 Much in request, much sought for, as a good. 
 
 For we do now behold thee gay and glad, 
 As at doom's-day, 
 When souls shall wear their new aray, 
 And all thy bones with beautie shall be clad. 
 
 Therefore we can go die as sleep, and trust 
 HaK that we have 
 Unto an honest faithfuU grave. 
 Making our pillows either down or dust, 
 
 DOOM'S-DAY 
 
 Comb away. 
 Make no delay; 
 Summon all the dust to rise. 
 Till it stirre and rubbe the eyes ' 
 While this member jqgs the other, 
 Each one whispring, ' Live you, brother ? ' 
 
 Come away. 
 Make this the day. 
 Dust, alas, no musick feels 
 But Thy trumpet ; then it kneels, 
 As peculiar notes and strains 
 Cure tarantulae's raging pains. 
 
 Come away, 
 O make no stay ! 
 Let the graves make their confession. 
 Lest at length they plead possession : 
 Fleshe's stubbornnesse may have 
 Read that lesson to the grave. 
 
194 The Temple 
 
 Come away, 
 Thy flock doth stray. 
 Some to windes their bodie lend, 
 And in them may drown a friend ; 
 Some in noisome vapours grow 
 To a plague and publick wo. 
 
 Come away. 
 Help our decay. 
 Man is out of order hurl'd, 
 Parcel'd out to all the world. 
 Lord, Thy broken consort raise. 
 And the musick shall be praise. 
 
 JUDGMENT 
 
 Almightie Judge, how shall poore wretches brook 
 
 Thy dreadfull look. 
 Able a heart of iron to appaU, 
 
 When Thou shalt call 
 For ev'ry man's peculiar book ? 
 
 What others mean to do, I know not well : 
 
 Yet I heare tell 
 That some will turn Thee to some leaves therein 
 
 So void of sinne, 
 That they in merit shall excell. 
 
 But I resolve, when Thou shalt call for mine, 
 
 That to decline. 
 And thrust a Testament into Thy hand : 
 
 Let that be scann'd. 
 There Thou shalt find my faults are Thine. 
 
Heaven 195 
 
 HEAVEN 
 
 WHO will show me tliose delights on high ? 
 
 ECHO. /. 
 Thou, Echo, thou art mortall, all men know. 
 
 ECHO. No. 
 Wert thou not born among the trees and leaves ? 
 
 ECHO. Leaves. 
 And are there any leaves that still abide ? 
 
 ECHO. Bide. 
 What leaves are they ? impart the matter wholly. 
 
 ECHO. Holy. 
 Are holy leaves the Echo, then, of blisse 1 
 
 ECHO. Yes. 
 Then tell me, what is that supreme dehght 1 
 
 ECHO. Light. 
 Light to the minde : what shall the will enjoy ? 
 
 ECHO. Joy. 
 But are there cares and businesse with the pleasure? 
 
 ECHO. Leisure. 
 Light, joy, and leisure ; but shall they persever ? 
 
 ECHO. Ever. 
 
 LOVE X 
 
 Love bade me welcome ; yet my soul drew back, 
 
 -Guiltie of dust and sinne. 
 But quick-ey'd Love, observing me grow slack 
 
 Prom my first entrance in. 
 Drew nearer to me, sweetly questioning 
 If I lack'd any thing. 
 o2 
 
196 Tlie Temple 
 
 ' A g^est,' I answer'd, ' worthy to be here ' : 
 Love said, ' You shall be he.' 
 
 ' I, the unkind, ungratefol ? Ah, my dear, 
 
 I cannot look on Thee.' '~ -" 
 
 Love took my hand, and smiling did reply, 
 ' Who made the eyes but 1 1 ' 
 
 ' Truth, Loid ; but I have marr'd them ; let my shame 
 
 (3o where it doth deserve.' 
 ' And know you not,' says Love, ' Who bore the blame t ' - 
 
 ' My dear, then I will serve.' 
 ' You must sit down,' says Love, ' and taste My meat.' 
 
 So I did sit and eat. 
 
 FINIS. 
 
 CRorie he to God on High, 
 
 and on earth 
 
 Peace, good-vnU towards men. 
 
THE CHURCH MILITANT 
 
THE CHUECH MILITANT 
 
 Almightie Lord, Who from Thy glorious throne 
 
 Seest and rulest all things ev'n as one ; 
 
 The smallest ant or atome knows Thy power, 
 
 Known also to each minute of an houre : 
 
 Much more do Common-weals acknowledge Thee, 
 
 And wrap their policies in Thy decree, 
 
 Complying with Thy counsels, doing nought 
 
 Which doth not meet with an eternall thought. 
 
 But ahove all. Thy Church and Spouse doth prove. 
 
 Not the decrees of power, but bands of love. 
 
 Early didst Thou arise to plant this vine, 
 
 Which might the more indeare it to be Thine. 
 
 Spices come from the East, so did Thy Spouse, 
 
 Trimme as the light, sweet as the laden boughs 
 
 Of Noah's shadie vine, chaste as the dove, 
 
 Prepar'd and fitted to receive Thy love. 
 
 The course was westward, that the sunne might light 
 
 As well our understanding as our sight. 
 
 Where th' Ark did rest, there Abraham began 
 
 To bring the other Ark from Canaan. 
 
 Moses pursu'd this ; but King Solomon 
 
 Finish'd and fixt the old reUgion. 
 
 When it grew loose, the Jews did hope in vain 
 
 By nailing Christ to fasten it again; 
 
 But to the Gentiles He bore Crosse and all, 
 
 Rending with earthquakes the partition-wall. 
 
200 ITie Church Militant 
 
 Onely whereas the Ark in glorie shone, 
 Now with the Crosse, as with a stafEe, alone, 
 Rehgion, Uke a pilgrime, Westward bent. 
 Knocking at all doores ever as She went. 
 Yet as the sunne, though forward be his flight, 
 Listens behinde him, and allows some light 
 TiU all depart ; so went the Church her way, 
 Letting, while one foot stept, the other stay 
 Among the Eastern nations for a time, 
 TiU both removed to the Western clime. 
 To Egypt first she came, where they did prove 
 Wonders of Anger once, but now of Love ; 
 The Ten Commandments there did flourish more 
 Then the ten bitter plagues had done before; 
 Holy Macarius and great Anthonie 
 Made Pharaoh Moses, changing th' historiej 
 Goshen was darknesse, Egypt full of Ughts, 
 Nilus for monsters brought forth Israelites. 
 Such power hath mightie Baptisme to produce 
 For things misshapen, things of highest use. 
 How deare to me, O God, Thy counsels are ! 
 Who may with Thee compare ? 
 Religion thence fled into Greece, where arts 
 Gave her the highest place in aU men's hearts; 
 Learning was pos'd, Philosophie was set, 
 Sophisters taken in a fisher's net. 
 Plato and Aristotle were at a losse. 
 And wheel'd about again to spell Christ-Crosse. 
 Prayers chas'd syllogismes into their den, 
 And Ergo was transform'd into Amen. 
 Though Greece took horse as soon as Egypt did, 
 And Rome as both, yet Egypt faster rid. 
 And spent her period and prefixed time 
 Before the other. Greece being past her prime. 
 
The Church Militant 201 
 
 Religion went to Rome, subduing those 
 
 Who, that they might subdue, made all their foes. 
 
 The Warner his deere skarres no more resounds, 
 
 But seems to yeeld Christ hath the greater wounds ; 
 
 Wounds willingly endur'd to work his blisse, 
 
 Who by an ambush lost his Paradise. 
 
 The great heart stoops, and taketh from the dust, 
 
 A sad repentance, not the spoils of lust ; 
 
 Quitting his spear, lest it should pierce again 
 
 Him in His members, Who for him was slain. 
 
 The Shepherd's hook grew to a sceptre here, 
 
 Giving new names and numbers to the yeare ; 
 
 But th' Empire dwelt in Greece, to comfort them 
 
 Who were cut short in Alexander's stemme. 
 
 In both of these Prowesse and Arts did tame 
 
 And tune men's hearts against the Gospel came ; 
 
 Which using, and not fearing skill in th' one, 
 
 Or strength in th' other, did erect her throne. 
 
 Many a rent and struggling th' Empire knew — 
 
 As dying things are wont — untill it flew 
 
 At length to Germanic, still Westward bending. 
 
 And there the Churche's festivall attending ; 
 
 That as before Empire and Arts made way — 
 
 For no lesse Harbingers would serve then they — 
 
 So they might still, and point us out the place 
 
 Where first the Church should raise her downcast face. 
 
 Strength levels grounds. Art makes a garden there ; 
 
 Then showres Rehgion, and makes all to bear, 
 
 Spain in the Empire shar'd with Germanie, 
 
 But England in the higher viotorie. 
 
 Giving the Church a crown to keep her state. 
 
 And not go lesse then she had done of late. 
 
 Constantine's British line meant this of old. 
 
 And did this mysterie wrap up and fold 
 
202 The Church Militant 
 
 Within a sheet of paper, which was rent 
 From Time's great Chronicle, and hither sent. 
 Thus both the Church and sunne together ran 
 Unto the farthest old meridian. 
 How deare to me, God, Thy counsels are ! 
 Who may with Thee compare ? 
 Much about one and the same time and place. 
 Both where and when the Church began her race, 
 Sinne did set out of Eastern Babylon, 
 And travell'd Westward also : journeying on 
 He chid the Church away where e're he came, 
 Breaking her peace and tainting her good name. 
 At first he got to Egypt, and did sow 
 Gardens of gods, which ev'ry yeare did grow 
 Fresh and fine deities. They were at great cost. 
 Who for a god clearely a sallet lost. 
 Ah, what a thing is man devoid of grace, 
 Adoring garhck with an humble face. 
 Begging his food of that which he may eat. 
 Starving the while he worshippeth his meat ! 
 Who makes a root his god, how low is he. 
 If God and man be sever'd infinitely ! 
 What wretchednesse can give him any room, 
 Whose house is foul, while he adores his broom ? 
 None will beleeve this now, though money be 
 In us the same transplanted foolerie. 
 Thus Sinne in Egypt sneaked for a while ; 
 His highest was an ox or crocodile, 
 And such poore game. Thence he to Greece doth passe. 
 And being craftier much then Goodnesse was. 
 He left behinde him garrisons of sinnes. 
 To make good that which ev'ry day he winnes. 
 Here Sinne took heart, and for a garden-bed 
 Rich shrines and oracles he purchased ; 
 
The Church Militant 203 
 
 He grew a gallant, and would needs foretell 
 As well what should befall as what befell ; 
 Nay, he became a poet, and would serve 
 His pills of sublimate in that conserve. 
 The world came both with hands and purses full 
 To this great lotterie, and all would pull. 
 But all was glorious cheating, brave deceit, 
 Where some poore truths were shuffl'd for a bait 
 To credit him, and to discredit those 
 Who after him should braver truths disclose. 
 From Greece he went to Rome ; and as before 
 He was a god, now he 's an emperour ; 
 Nero and others lodg'd him bravely there, 
 . Put him in trust to rule the Romane sphere. 
 Glorie was his chief instrument of old ; 
 Pleasure succeeded straight when that grew cold, 
 Which soon was blown to such a mightie flame. 
 That though our Saviour did destroy the game, 
 Disparking oracles and all their treasure, 
 Setting affliction to encounter pleasure ; 
 Yet did a rogue, with hope of carnall joy. 
 Cheat the most subtill nations. Who so coy, 
 So trimme, as Greece and Egypt 1 Yet their hearts 
 Are given over, for their curious arts, 
 To such Mahometan stupidities 
 As the old heathen would deem prodigies. 
 How deare to me, God, Thy counsels are ! 
 Who may with Thee compare ? 
 Onely the West and Rome do keep them free 
 From this contagious infidelitie ; 
 And this is all the Rock whereof they boast, 
 As Rome will one day finde unto her cost ; 
 Sinne being not able to extirpate quite 
 The Churches here, bravely resolv'd one night 
 
204 The Church Militant 
 
 To be a Churchman too, and wear a mitre ; 
 
 The old debauched ruffian would turn writer. 
 
 I saw him in his studie, where he sate 
 
 Busie in controversies sprung of late : 
 
 A gown and pen became him wondrous well ; 
 
 His grave aspect had more of heav'n then hell ; 
 
 Onely there was a handsome picture by. 
 
 To which he lent a corner of his eye. 
 
 As Sinne in Greece a prophet was before. 
 
 And in old Rome a mightie emperour ; 
 
 So now, being priest, he plainly did professe 
 
 To make a jest of Christ's three offices ; 
 
 The rather since his scatter'd jugglings were 
 
 United now in one both time and sphere. 
 
 From Egypt he took pettie deities, 
 
 From Greece oracular infallibilities, 
 
 And from old Rome the libertie of pleasure, 
 
 By free dispensings of the Churche's treasure ; 
 
 Then, in meinoriall of his ancient throne. 
 
 He did surname his palace Babylon. 
 
 Yet that he might the better gain all nations. 
 
 And make that name good by their transmigrations. 
 
 From all these places, but at divers times. 
 
 He took fine vizards to conceal his crimes : 
 
 From Egypt anchorisme and retirednesse. 
 
 Learning from Greece, from old Rome stateUnesse ; 
 
 And blending these, he carri'd all men's eyes, 
 
 While Truth sat by, counting his victories ; 
 
 Whereby he grew apace, and scorn'd to use 
 
 Such force as once did captivate the Jews, 
 
 But did bewitch, and finally work each nation 
 
 Into a voluntarie transmigration. 
 
 All poste to Rome ; princes submit their necks 
 
 Either t' his publick foot or private tricks. 
 
The Church Militant 205 
 
 It did not fit his gravitie to stirre, 
 
 Nor his long journey, nor his gout and furre ; 
 
 Therefore he sent out able ministers, 
 
 Statesmen within, without doores cloisterers ; 
 
 Who, without spear, or sword, or other drumme 
 
 Then what was in their tongue, did overcome ; 
 
 And having conquer'd, did so strangely rule. 
 
 That the whole world did seem but the Pope's 
 
 mule. 
 As new and old Rome did one Empire twist, 
 So both together are one Antichrist ; 
 Yet with two faces, as their Janus was. 
 Being in this their old crackt looking-glasse. 
 How deare to me, God, Thy counsels are ! 
 Who may with Thee compare ? 
 Thus Sinne triumphs in Western Babylon ; 
 Yet not as Sinne, but as Religion. 
 Of his two thrones he made the latter best. 
 And to defray his journey from the East. 
 Old and new Babylon are to hell and night 
 As is the moon and sunne to heav'n and light. 
 When th' one did set, the other did take place, 
 Confronting equally the Law and Grace. 
 They are hell's landmarks, Satan's dpuble crest ; 
 They are Sinne's nipples, feeding th' East and 
 
 West. 
 But as in vice the copie still exceeds 
 The pattern, but not so in vertuous deeds ; 
 So, though Siime made his latter seat the better, 
 The latter Church is to the first a debter. 
 The second Temple could not reach the first ; 
 And the late Reformation never durst 
 Compare with ancient times and purer yeares^ 
 But in the Jews and us deserveth tears. 
 
206 The Church Militant 
 
 Nay, it shall ev'ry yeare decrease and fade. 
 Till such a darknesse do the world invade 
 At Christ's last coming as His first did finde : 
 Yet must there such proportions be assign'd 
 To these diminishings as is between 
 The spacious world and Jurie to be seen. 
 Religion stands on tiptoe in our land, 
 Readie to passe to the American strand. 
 When height of malice and prodigious lusts, 
 Impudent sinning, witchcrafts, and distrusts — 
 The marks of future bane — shall fill our cup 
 Unto the brimme, and make our measure up ; 
 When Sein shaU swallow Tiber, and the Thames, 
 By letting in them both, pollutes her streams ; 
 When Italic of us shall have her will. 
 And all her calendar of sinnes fulfill. 
 Whereby one may foretell what sinnes next yeare 
 Shall both in France and England domineer — 
 Then shall Religion to America flee ; 
 They have their times of Gospel ev'n as we. 
 My God, Thou dost prepare for them a way. 
 By carrying first their gold from them away; 
 For gold and grace did never yet agree : 
 Religion alwaies sides with povertie. 
 We think we rob them, but we think amisse ; 
 We are more poore, and they more rich by this. 
 Thou wilt revenge their quarrell, making grace 
 To pay our debts, and leave our ancient place 
 To go to them, while that which now their nation 
 But lends to us, shall be our desolation. 
 Yet as the Church shall thither Westward flie, 
 So Sinne shall trace and dog her instantly; 
 They have their period also and set times. 
 Both for their vertuous actions and their crimes. 
 
The Church Militant 207 
 
 And where of old the Empire and the Arts 
 Usher'd the Gospel ever in men's hearts, 
 Spain hath done one ; when Arts perform the other, 
 The Church shall come, and Sinne the Church shall 
 
 smother ; 
 That when they have accomplished the round. 
 And met in th' East their first and ancient sound. 
 Judgement may meet them both and search them round. 
 Thus do both lights, as well in Church as Sunne, 
 Light one another and together runne ; 
 Thus also Sinne and Darknesse follow still 
 The Church and Sunne with all their power and skill. 
 But as the Sunne still goes both West and East, 
 So also did the Church by going West 
 Still Eastward go ; because it drew more neare 
 To time and place where judgement shall appeare. 
 How deare to me, God, Thy counsels are ! 
 Who may with Thee compare ? 
 
 L'ENVOY 
 
 King of glorie, King of peace. 
 With the one make warre to cease j 
 With the other blesse Thy sheep, 
 Thee to love, in Thee to sleep. 
 Let not Siime devoure Thy fold, 
 Bragging that Thy bloud is cold ; 
 That Thy death is also dead. 
 While his conquests dayly spread ; 
 That Thy flesh hath lost his food. 
 And Thy Crosse is common wood. 
 Choke him, let him say no more, 
 But reserve his breath in store. 
 
208 The Church Militant 
 
 Till Thy conquests and his fall 
 Make his sighs to use it aU ; 
 And then bargain with the winde 
 To discharge what is behinde. 
 
 Blessed he God alone, 
 Thrice blessed Three in One. 
 
ADDITIONAL SACKED POEMS 
 
 FROM THE WILLIAMS MS., &c. 
 
ADDITIONAL SACEED POEMS 
 
 I. THE HOLY COMMUNION 
 
 GKATious Lord, how shall I know 
 Whether in these gifts Thou bee so 
 
 As Thou art ereiywhere ? 
 Or rather so, as Thoa alone 
 Tak'st all y^ Lodging, leaving none 
 
 For Thy poore creature there. 
 
 First I am sore, whether bread stay. 
 Or whether Bread doe fly away, 
 
 Concemeth Bread, not mee ; 
 But y* both Thou and all Thy traine 
 Bee there, to Thy truth and my gaine 
 
 Concemeth mee and Thee. 
 
 And if in comming to Thy foes. 
 
 Thou dost come first to them, y* showes 
 
 The hast of Thy good will ; 
 Or if that Thou two stations makest. 
 In Bread and mee, the way Thou takest 
 
 Is more, but for mee stilL 
 
 Then of this also I am sure. 
 
 That Thou didst all these pains endure 
 
 To abolish Sinn, not Wheat ; 
 Creatures are good, and have their place; 
 Sinn onely, w^^ did all deface. 
 
 Thou drivest from his seat. 
 
 1 could beleere an Impanation 
 At the rate of an Incarnation, 
 
 If Thou hadst dyde for Bread ; 
 p2 
 
212 Additional Sacred Poems 
 
 But that w"^ made my soule to dye, 
 My flesh and fleshy villany, 
 
 That allso made Thee dead. 
 
 That flesh is there mine eyes deny : 
 And what should flesh but flesh discry — 
 
 The noblest sence of five ? 
 If glorious bodies pass the sight, 
 Shall they be food and strength and might, 
 
 Euen there where they deoeiue ? 
 
 Into my soule this cannot pass ; 
 Flesh, though exalted, keeps his grass, 
 
 And cannot turn to soule. 
 Bodyes and Minds are different spheres ; 
 Nor can they change their bounds and meres. 
 
 But keep a constant Pole. 
 
 This gift of all gifts is the best. 
 Thy flesh the least yt I request ; 
 
 Thou took'st that pledge from mee : 
 Give mee not that I had before, 
 Or give mee that so I have more ; 
 
 My God, give mee all Thee. 
 
 II. LOVE 
 
 Thou art too hard for me in Love ; 
 There is no dealing w"i Thee in that Art, 
 
 That is Thy Masterpeece, I see. 
 
 When I contrive and plott to prove 
 Something that may be conquest on my part, 
 
 Thou still, Lord, outstrippest mee. 
 
 Sometimes, when as I wash, I say, 
 And shrodely as I think, ' Lord, wash my soule. 
 
 More spotted then my Flesh can bee.' 
 
Love 213 
 
 But then there comes into my way 
 
 Thy ancient baptism, woh when I was foule 
 
 And knew it not, yet cleansed mee. 
 
 I took a time when Thou didst sleep. 
 Great waves of trouble combating my brest : 
 
 I thought it braue to praise Thee then ; 
 
 Yet then I found that Thou didst creep 
 Into my hart w* ioye, giving more rest 
 
 Than flesh did lend Thee back agen. 
 
 Let mee but once the conquest have 
 Vpon ye matter, 'twill Thy conquest prove : 
 
 If Thou subdue mortalitie. 
 
 Thou dost no more than doth y^ graue ; 
 Whereas if I orecome Thee and Thy love, 
 
 Hell, Death, and Divel come short of mee. 
 
 III. TRINITY SUNDAY 
 
 He that is one 
 
 Is none ; 
 Two reacheth Thee 
 In some degree : 
 Nature and Grace 
 W'' Glory may attaine Thy Face. 
 Steele and a flint strike fire ; 
 Witt and desire 
 Never to Thee aspire, 
 Except life catch and hold those fast. 
 That web beleefe 
 Did not confess in y^ first Theefe 
 
 His fall can tell 
 From Heaven through Earth to Hell. 
 
214 Additional tSacred I'oems 
 
 Lett two of those alone 
 To them that fall. 
 Who God and Saints and Angels loose at last : 
 Hee that has one 
 Has all. 
 
 IV. EVEN-SONG 
 
 The Day is spent, and hath his will on mee : 
 I and y* Sunn haue runn our races : 
 I went ye slower, yet more paces ; 
 
 For I decay, not hee. 
 
 Lord, make my Loss vp, and sett mee free. 
 That I, who cannot now by day 
 Look on his daring brightnes, may 
 
 Shine then more bright then hee. 
 
 If Thou deferr this light, then shadow mee. 
 Least that the Night, earth's gloomy shade. 
 Fouling her nest, my earth invade. 
 
 As if shades knew not Thee. 
 
 But Thou art Light and darkness both togeather: 
 
 If that bee dark we caimot see. 
 
 The sunn is darker then a tree. 
 And Thou more dark then either. 
 
 Yet Thou art not so dark since I know this. 
 But that my darknes may touch Thine ; 
 And hope that may teach it to shine. 
 
 Since Light Thy darknes is. 
 
 O lett my Soule, whose keyes I must deliver 
 Into the hands of senceles dreams 
 Wob know not Thee, suck in Thy beams, 
 
 And wake w^^ Thee for ever. 
 
The Knell 215 
 
 V. THE KNELL 
 
 The Bell doth tolle : 
 Lord, help Thy servant, whose perplexed Soule 
 
 Doth wishly look 
 
 On either hand. 
 And sometimes offers, sometimes makes a stand, 
 
 Straggling on th' hook. 
 
 Now is the season, 
 Now y^ great combat of our flesh and reason : 
 
 O help, my God ; 
 
 See, they break in. 
 Disbanded humours, sorrows, troops of Sinn, 
 
 Each -vf^ his rodd. 
 
 Lord, make Thy Blood 
 Convert and colour all the other flood 
 
 And streams of grief. 
 
 That they may bee 
 Jnlips and cordials when wee call on Thee 
 
 For some relief. 
 
 VI. PERSEVERANCE 
 
 Mt God, ye poore expressions of my Love, 
 W"^ warme these lines and serve them vp to Thee, 
 Are so as for the present I did moue, 
 Or rather as Thou mouedst mee. 
 
 But what shall issue, whether these my words 
 Shall help another, but my iudgment bee ; 
 As a burst fouling-peece doth saue y« birds. 
 But kill the man, is seal'd w*l» Thee. 
 
21 G Additional Sacred Poems 
 
 For who can tell, though Thou hast dyde to winn 
 And wedd my soule in glorious paradise, 
 Whither my many crymes and vse of sinn 
 May yet forbid the banes and bliss ? 
 
 Onely my soule hangs on Thy promisses, 
 W* face and hands clinging vnto Thy brest j 
 Chnging and crying, crjdng w^liout cease, 
 
 'Thou art my Rock, Thou art my Rest.' 
 
 VII. THE CONVERT 
 
 If ever tears did flow from eyes. 
 If ever voice was hoarse with cries, 
 If ever heart was sore with sighs, — 
 
 Let now my eyes, my voice, my heart 
 Strive each to play their part. 
 
 My eyes, from whence these tears did spring. 
 Where treach'rous Syrens us'd to sing. 
 Shall flow no more, untill they bring 
 
 A deluge on my sensual flame, 
 
 And wash away my shame. 
 
 My voice, that oft with foolish lays. 
 With vows and rants and sensless praise, 
 Frail Beauty's charms to heav'n did raise. 
 
 Henceforth shall only pierce the skies 
 
 In penitential cryes. 
 
 My heart, that gave fond thoughts their food- 
 Till now averse to all that 's good. 
 The Temple where an idol stood. 
 
 Henceforth in sacred flames shall burn. 
 
 And be that idol's urn. 
 
PSALMS 
 
PSALMS 
 
 PSALM I 
 
 Blxst is the man that never tronld 
 In couneels of ih' ungodly share. 
 
 Nor hath in way of sinners stood, 
 Xor sitten in the scorner's chair 
 
 But in God's Law sets his delight. 
 And makes that Law alone to be 
 
 His meditation day and night : 
 He shall be like an happy tree, 
 
 Whicli, planted bv the waters, shall 
 With timdy fruit still loden stand; 
 
 £Bs leaf shall never fade, and all 
 Shall prosper that he takes in hand. 
 
 The wicked are not so : but they 
 Are like the chafi. which from the &ce 
 
 Of earth is driven by winds away. 
 And finds no sure abiding place. 
 
 !Iheref(Ke shall not the wicked be 
 Able to stand the Judge's doom; 
 
 Nor in the »kfe society 
 Of good men shall the wicked come. 
 
 Fcff God Himsdf vouchsafes to know 
 The way that light'ous men have gone; 
 
 And those ways which the wicked go 
 Shall utteriy be overthrown. 
 
220 Psalms 
 
 PSALM n 
 
 Why are the heathen swell'd with rage, 
 The people vain exploits devise ? 
 
 The kings and potentates of earth 
 Combin'd in one great faction rise 1 
 
 And taking councels 'gainst the Lord 
 And 'gainst His Christ, presume to say, 
 
 ' Let us in sunder break their bonds. 
 And from us cast their cords away.' 
 
 But He that sits in heaven shall laugh. 
 The Lord Himself shall them deride ; 
 
 Then shall He speak to them in wrath, 
 And in sore anger vex their pride. 
 
 ' But I am God, and seated King 
 
 On Sion, His most holy hUl ; 
 I will declare the Lord's decree, 
 
 Nor can I hide His sacred will. 
 
 He said to Me, Thou art My Son, 
 This day have I begotten Thee ; 
 
 Make Thy request, and I will grant. 
 The heathen shall Thy portion be. 
 
 Thou shalt possess earth's farthest bounds, 
 And there an awful sceptre sway ; 
 
 Whose pow'r shall dash and break them all. 
 Like vessels made of brittle clay.' 
 
 Now therefore, O ye kings, be wise ; 
 
 Be learned, ye that judge the earth ; 
 Serve our great God in fear ; rejoice. 
 
 But tremble in your highest mirth. 
 
Psalm II 221 
 
 O kiss the Son, lest He be wroth, 
 And straight ye perish from the way : 
 
 When once His anger burns, thrice blest 
 Are all that make the Son their stay. 
 
 PSALM III 
 
 How are my foes increased, Lord ! 
 
 many are they that rise 
 Against me, sa3nng, for my soul 
 
 no help in God there is. 
 But Thou, Lord, art still the shield 
 
 of my deliverance ; 
 Thou art my glory, Lord, and He 
 
 that doth my head advance. 
 
 I cry'd unto the Lord, He heard 
 
 me from His holy hUl ; 
 I laid me down and slept, I wak't ; 
 
 for God sustain'd me stiU. 
 Aided by Him, I wiU not fear 
 
 ten thousand enemies. 
 Nor all the people round about 
 
 that can against me rise. 
 
 Arise, Lord, and rescue me ; 
 
 save me, my God, from thrall ; 
 'Tis Thou upon the cheek-bone smit'st 
 
 mine adversaries all. 
 And Thou hast brok th' ungodly's teeth ; 
 
 salvation unto Thee 
 Belongs, Lord ; Thy blessing shall 
 
 upon Thy people be. 
 
222 Psalms 
 
 PSALM IV 
 
 LoBD, hear me when I call on Thee, 
 
 Lord of my righteousness ; 
 O Thou that hast enlargM me 
 
 when I was in distress. 
 
 Have mercy on me, Lord, and hear 
 
 the prayer that I frame ; 
 How long will ye, vain men, convert 
 
 my glory into shame ? 
 
 How long will ye seek after lies, 
 
 and vanity approve ? 
 But know the Lord Himself doth chuse 
 
 the righteous man to love. 
 
 The Lord will hearken unto me 
 
 when I His grace implore ; 
 learn to stand in awe of Him, 
 
 and sin not any more. 
 
 Within your chamber try your hearts; 
 
 offer to God on high 
 The sacrifice of righteousness, 
 
 and on His grace rely. 
 
 Many there are that- say, '0, who 
 will show us good 1 ' But, Lord, 
 
 Thy countenance's cheering light 
 do Thou to us afford. 
 
 For that, O Lord, with perfect joy 
 
 shall more replenish me 
 Then worldlings joy'd with all their store 
 
 of corn and wine can be. 
 
Psalm IV 223 
 
 Therefore will I lie down in peace 
 and take my restful sleep ; 
 
 For Thy protection, Lord, alone 
 shall me in safety keep. 
 
 PSALM V 
 
 Lord, to my words encline Thine ear. 
 
 My meditation weigh ; 
 My King, my God, vouchsafe to hear 
 
 My cry to Thee, I pray. 
 
 Thou in the morn shalt hear my mone ; 
 
 For in the morn will I 
 Direct my prayers to Thy throne, 
 
 And thither lift mine eye. 
 
 Thou art a God, Whose puritie 
 
 Cannot in sins delight ; 
 No evil. Lord, shall dwell with Thee, 
 
 Nor fools stand in Thy sight. 
 
 Thou hat'st those that unjustly do, 
 Thou slay'st the men that lye ; 
 
 The bloody man, the false one too, 
 Shall be abhorr'd by Thee. 
 
 But in th' abundance of Thy grace 
 
 Will I to Thee draw near. 
 And toward Thy most holy place 
 
 Will worship Thee in fear. 
 
 Lord, lead me in Thy righteousness. 
 
 Because of all my foes ; 
 And to my dym and sinful eyes 
 
 Thy perfect way disclose. 
 
224 Psalms 
 
 For wickedness their insides are, 
 Their mouths no truth retain. 
 
 Their throat an open sepulcher, 
 Their flattering tongues do fain. 
 
 Destroy them. Lord, and by their own 
 Bad councels let them fall 
 
 In hight of their transgression; 
 Lord, reject them all ; 
 
 Because against Thy Majesty 
 They vainly have rebeU'd. 
 
 But let all those that trust in Thee 
 With perfect joy be fiU'd : 
 
 Yea, shout for joy for evermore. 
 
 Protected stiU by Thee ; 
 Let them that do Thy name adore 
 
 In that stUl joyfull bee. 
 
 For God doth righteous men esteem. 
 
 And them for ever bless ; 
 His favour shall encompass them, — 
 
 A shield in their distress. 
 
 PSALM VI 
 
 Rebuke me not in wrath, Lord, 
 nor in Thine anger chasten me; 
 
 pity me ; for I, Lord, 
 am nothing but infirmitie. 
 
 O heal me, for my bones are vex'd, 
 my soul is troubled very sore ; 
 
 But, Lord, how long so much perplex'd 
 shall I in vain Thy grace implore ? 
 
Psdm ri 225 
 
 Betum, O God, and rescue me, 
 my soul for Thy great mercy save; 
 
 For who in death remember Thee 1 
 or who shall praise Thee in the grave ? 
 
 With groaning I am wearied, 
 all night I make my conch to swim. 
 
 And water with salt tears my bed ; 
 my sight with sorrow waxeth dim. 
 
 My beauty wears and doth decay, 
 
 because of all mine enemies ; 
 But now from me depart away, 
 
 all ye that work iniquities. 
 
 For God Himself hath heard my cry ; 
 
 the Lord vouchsjkfes to weigh my tears ; 
 Yea, He my prayer from on high 
 
 and humble suppUcation hears. 
 
 And now my foes the Lord will blame 
 that e'rst so sorely vexM me. 
 
 And put them all to utter shame, 
 and to confusion suddainly. 
 
 Glory, honour, power, and praise 
 To the most glorious Trinity ; 
 
 As at the fii-st beginning was, 
 is now, and to eternity. 
 
 PSALM vn 
 
 Save me, my Lord, my God, because 
 
 I put my trust in Thee ; 
 From all that persecute my life, 
 
 O Lord, deliver mee. 
 
226 Psalms 
 
 Lest like a lion swollen with rage 
 
 he do devour my soul ; 
 And peace-meal rent it, while there's none 
 
 his mallice to controul. 
 
 If I have done this thing, Lord, 
 
 if I so guilty be ; 
 If I have ill rewarded- him 
 
 that was at peace with me ; 
 
 Yea, have not oft deliver'd him 
 
 that was my causeless foe; 
 Then let mine enemie prevail 
 
 unto mine overthrow. 
 
 Let him pursue and take my soul, 
 
 yea, let him to the clay 
 Tread down my life, and in the dust 
 
 my slaughter'd honour lay. 
 
 Arise in wrath, Lord, advance 
 
 against my foes' disdain ; 
 Wake and confirm that judgment now 
 
 which Thou did'st foreordain. 
 
 So shall the people round about 
 
 resort to give Thee praise ; 
 For their sakes, Lord, return on high, 
 
 and high Thy glory raise. 
 
 The Lord shaU judge the people all : 
 
 O God, consider me 
 According to my righteousness 
 
 and mine integritie. 
 
Psalm VII 227 
 
 The wicked's malice, Lord, confound, 
 
 but just me ever guide ; 
 Thou art that righteous God by whom 
 
 the hearts and rains are try'd. 
 
 God is my shield, Who doth preserve 
 those that in heart are right ; 
 
 He judgeth both the good and those 
 that do His justice slight. 
 
 Unless the wicked turn again, 
 the Lord will whet His sword ; 
 
 His bow is bent. His quiver is 
 with shafts of vengeance stor'd. 
 
 The fatal instruments of death 
 
 in that prepared lie ; 
 His arrows are ordain'd 'gainst him 
 
 that persecuteth me. 
 
 Behold, the wicked travelleth 
 
 with his iniquitie ; 
 Exploits of mischief he conceives, 
 
 but shall bring forth a lye. 
 
 The wicked diggM, and a pit 
 
 for others' ruine wrought ; 
 But in the pit which he hath made 
 
 Shall he himself be caught. 
 
 To his own head his wickedness 
 
 shall be returned home ; 
 And on his own accursed pate 
 
 Jiis cruelty shall come. 
 q2 
 
228 Psalms 
 
 But I, for all His righteousness, 
 the Lord will magnifie ; 
 
 And ever praise the glorious Name 
 of Him that is on high. 
 
 GLORIA TO PSALM XXIII 
 
 To Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, 
 
 one oonsubstantial Three, 
 All highest praise, aU humblest thanks, 
 
 now and for ever be. 
 
SECULAR POEMS 
 
 WITH ADDITIONS FROM MSS. 
 
SECULAR POEMS 
 
 SONNETS 
 
 SENT TO HIS MOTHER AS A NEW YEAE'S GIFT FEOM 
 CAMBBIOGE 
 
 My God, where is that ancient heat towards Thee 
 Wherewith whole showls of martyrs once did burn. 
 
 Besides their other flames ? Doth Poetry 
 Wear Venus' livery ? only serve her turn ? 
 
 Why are not sonnets made of Thee, and layes 
 Upon Thine altar burnt ? Cannot Thy love 
 
 Heighten a spirit to sound out Thy praise 
 As well as any she ? Cannot Thy Dove 
 
 Outstrip their Cupid easily in flight 1 
 Or, since Thy wayes are deep, and still the same. 
 Will not a verse run smooth that bears Thy Name 1 
 
 Why doth that fire, which by Thy power and might 
 Each breast does feel, no braver fuel choose 
 Then that which one day worms may chance refuse ? 
 
 Sure, Lord, there is enough in Thee to dry 
 
 Oceans of ink ; for, as the Deluge did 
 Cover the earth, so doth Thy Majesty. 
 
 Each cloud distills Thy praise, and doth forbid 
 Poets to turn it to another use ; 
 
 Roses and lillies speak Thee, and to make 
 A pair of cheeks of them, is Thy abuse. 
 
 Why should I women's eyes for chrystal take ? 
 
232 oecuiar jroems 
 
 Such poor invention burns in their low mind, 
 Whose fire is wild, and doth not upward go 
 To praise, and on Thee, Lord, some ink bestow. 
 
 Open the bones, and you shall nothing find 
 In the best face but filth ; when. Lord, in Thee 
 The beauty lies in the discovery. 
 
 INSCRIPTION IN THE PARSONAGE, 
 BEMERTON 
 
 TO MY SUCCESSOR 
 
 If thou chance for to find 
 A new House to thy mind. 
 
 And built without thy Cost; 
 Be good to the Poor 
 As God gives thee store. 
 
 And then my Labour 's not lost. 
 
 ANOTHER VERSION 
 
 If thou dost find 
 
 An house built to thy mind. 
 
 Without thy cost ; 
 Serve thou the more 
 God and the poor ; 
 
 My labour is not lost. 
 
 ON LORD DANVERS 
 
 Saobed marble, safely keepe 
 
 His dust who under thee must sleepe 
 
 UntiU the graves againe restore 
 
 Theire dead, and time shal be no more. 
 
On Lord Danvers 233 
 
 Meane while, if Hee which all thingea weares 
 
 Doe ruine thee, or if the tears 
 
 Are shed for him dissolve thy frame, 
 
 Thou art requited ; for his fame, 
 
 His vertues, and his worth shal bee 
 
 Another monument for thee. 
 
 ON SIR JOHN DANVERS 
 
 Passe not by ; S' John Danvers' earthly part 
 
 Search, and you may Here is copied out by art ; 
 Find a treasure But his heavenly and divine 
 
 Worth your stay. In his progenie doth sliine. 
 What makes a Dan- Had he only brought them forth, 
 
 vers 
 Would you find ? Know that much had been his 
 
 worth. 
 In a fayre bodie Ther 's no monument to a sonne ; 
 A fayre mind. Read him there, and I have done. 
 
 A PARADOX 
 
 THAT THE SIOK ARE IN A BETTER CASE THEN THE 
 WHOLE 
 
 You who admire yourselves because 
 
 You neither grone nor weepe, 
 And think it contrary to nature's laws 
 
 To want one ounce of sleepe ; 
 Your strong beleife 
 Acquits yourselves, and gives y^ sick all greife. 
 
234 Secular Poems 
 
 Your state to ours is contrary ; 
 
 That makes you thinke us poore : 
 So Blaek-Moores think us foule, and wee 
 
 Are quit vf^^ y™, and more : 
 Nothing can see 
 And judge of things but mediocrity. 
 
 The sick are in y™selves a state 
 
 Well health hath nought to doe ; 
 How know you that o^ tears p'^'ceed from woe, 
 
 And not fro better fate ? 
 Since that Mirth hath 
 Her waters alsoe and desyred bath. 
 
 How know you y* y* sighs wee send 
 
 Fro want of breath p'^'ceede. 
 Not fro excesse ? and therefore we do spend 
 
 That wch we do not neede : 
 So trembling may 
 As well shew inward warbling, as decay. 
 
 Cea^e y° to judge calamity es 
 
 By outward forme and shew, 
 But view yourselves, and inward turn yo' eyes, 
 
 Then you shall fully know 
 That your estate 
 Is, of ye two, ye farre more desperate. 
 
 You aUwayes feare to feele those smarts 
 
 W<='» we but sometimes p'^'ve; 
 Each little comfort much affects o'' hearts, 
 
 None but gross joyes you move ; 
 Why, then confesse 
 Your feares in number more, yo'' joyes are 
 
A Paradox 235 
 
 Then for yo''selves not us embrace 
 
 Plaints to bad fortune due ; 
 For though you visitt us, and plaint o'^ case, 
 
 Wee doubt much whether you 
 Come to our bed 
 To comfort us, or to be comforted. 
 
 TO YE QUEENE OF BOHEMIA 
 
 Beight soule, of whome if any countrey knowne 
 Worthy had bin, thou hadst not lost thine owne ; 
 No Earth can bee thy Jointure, For the sunne 
 And starres alone vnto y* pitch doe runne 
 And pace of thy swift vertues ; onely they 
 Are thy dominion. Those that rule in clay 
 Stick fast therein, but thy transcendent soule 
 Doth for two clods of earth ten spheres controlile. 
 And though starres shott from heauen loose their light. 
 Yet thy braue beames, excluded from their right, 
 Maintaine their Lustre still, & shining cleere 
 Turne watrish Holland to a chrystalline sphere. 
 Mee thinkes, in that Dutch optick I doe see 
 Thy curious vertues much more visibly : 
 There is thy best Throne, for afflictions are 
 A foile to sett of[f] worth & make it rare. 
 Through y' black tiffany thy vertues shine 
 Fairer and richer. Now wee know what 's thine. 
 And what is fortune's. Thou hast singled out 
 Sorrowes & griefs, to fight with them about 
 At there owne weapons, w'^iout pomp or state 
 To second thee against their cunning hate. 
 what a poore thing 'tis to bee a Queene 
 When scepters, state. Attendants are y» screene 
 
236 Secular Poems 
 
 Betwixt us & the people ! when-as glory 
 
 Lyes round about us to helpe out ys story. 
 
 When all things pull & hale, y' they may bring 
 
 A slow behauiour to the style of king ; 
 
 When sense is made by Comments, But y* face 
 
 Whose natiue beauty needs not dresse or lace 
 
 To serue it forth, & being stript of all 
 
 Is self-sufi&cient to bee the thrall 
 
 Of thousand harts : y* face doth figure thee 
 
 And show thy vndiuided Maiestye 
 
 W"'' misery cannot vntwist, but rather 
 
 Addes to the vnion, as lights doe gather 
 
 Splendour from darknes. So close sits ye crowne 
 
 About thy temples y* ye furious frowne 
 
 Of opposition cannot place thee where 
 
 Thou shalt not be a Queene, & conquer there. 
 
 Yet hast thou more dominions : God doth giue 
 
 Children for kingdomes to thee ; they shall liue 
 
 To conquer new ones, & shall share y« frame 
 
 Of th' vniuerse, like as ye windes, & name 
 
 The world anew : y^ sunne shall neuer rise 
 
 But it shall spy some of their victories. 
 
 Their hands shall clipp ys Eagles winges, & chase 
 
 Those rauening Harpyes wol» peck at thy face 
 
 At once to Hell, without a baiting while 
 
 At Purgatory, their inchanted He 
 
 And Paris garden. Then let their perfume 
 
 And Spanish sents, wisely layd vp, presume 
 
 To deale w*!* brimstone, y' vntamed stench 
 
 Whose fier, Kke their malice, nought can quench. 
 
 But ioyes are stord for thee ; thou shalt returne 
 
 Laden w'J> comforts thence, where now to morne 
 
 Is thy chief gouerment, to manage woe. 
 
 To curbe some Rebell teares we^ faine would flow, 
 
To y' Queene of Bohemia 237 
 
 Making a Head & spring against thy Reason. 
 
 This is thy empire yet : till better season 
 
 Call thee from out of y' surrounded Land ; 
 
 That habitable sea, & brinish strand. 
 
 Thy teares not needing. For y* hand Divine, 
 
 Woh migles water w^^ thy Rhenish wine, 
 
 WiU power full ioyes to thee ; but dregs to those 
 
 And meet theire tast who are thy bitter foes. 
 
 L'ENVOY 
 
 Shine on, Maiestick soule, abide 
 
 Like Dauid's tree, planted beside 
 
 The Flemmish riuers : in the end 
 
 Thy fruite shall w'li their drops contend ; 
 
 Great God will surely dry those teares. 
 
 Which now y* moist land to thee beares. 
 
 Then shall thy Glory, fresh as flowers 
 
 In water kept, maugre the powers 
 
 Of Diuell, Jesuitt, & Spaine, 
 
 From Holland saile into the Maine : 
 
 Thence wheeling on, it, compass shall 
 
 This oure great Sublunary Ball, 
 
 And with that Ring thy fame shall wedd 
 
 Eternity into one Bedd. 
 
PARENTALIA 
 
PARENT ALIA 
 
 MEMORIAE MATRIS SACRUM 
 
 Ah Mater, quo te deplorem fonte ? Dolores 
 
 Quae guttae poterunt enumerare meos ? 
 Sicca meis lacrymis Thamesia vicina videtur, 
 
 Virtutumque choro siccior ipse tuo. 
 In flumen maerore nigrum si funderer ardens 
 
 Laudibus baud fierem sepia justa tuis. 
 Tantum istaeo scribo gratus, ne tu mihi tantum 
 
 Mater ; et ista Dolor nunc tibi Metra parit. 
 
 n 
 
 CoBNELiAB sanctae, graves Semproniae, 
 Et quicquid uspiam est severae foeminae, 
 Conferte lacrymas ; Ilia quae vos miscuit 
 Vestrasque laudes, poscit et mixtas genas. 
 Namque banc ruinam salva Gravitas defleat, 
 Pudorque constet vel solutis crinibus ; 
 Quandoque vultus sola majestas, Dolor. 
 
 Decus mulierum periit ; et metuunt viri 
 Utrumque sexum dote ne mulctaverit, 
 Non iUa soles terere comptu lubricos, 
 Struices superbas atque turritum caput 
 Molita, reliquum deinde garriens diem, — 
 Nam post Babelem linguae adest confusio, — 
 Quin post modestam, qualis integras decet, 
 Substructionem capitis et nimbum brevem, 
 
 lERT ^ 
 
242 Parentalia 
 
 Animam recentem rite curavit sacris 
 Adorta numen acri et igaea prece. 
 
 Dein familiam lustrat, et res prandii, 
 Horti colique distributim pensitat. 
 Suum cuique tempus et locus datur. 
 Inde exiguntur pensa crudo vespere. 
 Ratione certa vita constat et domus, 
 Prudenter inito quot-diebus calculo. 
 Tota renident aede decus et suavitas 
 Animo renidentes prius. Sin rarior 
 Magnatis appulsu extulit se occasio, 
 Surrexit una et ilia, seseque extulit : 
 Occasione certat imo et obtinet. 
 Proh ! quantus imber, quanta labri comitas, 
 Lepos severus, Pallas mixta Gratiis ; 
 Loquitur numeUas, compedes, et retia ; 
 Aut si negotio hora sumenda est, rei 
 Per angiportus et maeandros labitur, 
 Ipsos Catones provocans oraculis. 
 Turn quanta tabulis artifex ? quae scriptio ? 
 Bellum putamen, nucleus bellissimus 
 Sententiae cum voce mire convenit. 
 Volant per orbem literae notissimae : 
 O blanda dextra, neutiquam istoc pulveris, 
 Quo nunc recumbis, scriptio merita est tua, 
 Pactoli arena tibi tumulus est unicus. 
 
 Adde his trientem Musices, quae molliens 
 Mulcensque dotes caeteras, visa est quasi 
 Caelestis harmoniae breve praeludium. 
 Quam mira tandem sublevatrix pauperum ? 
 Languentium baculus, teges jacentium. 
 Commune cordis palpitantis balsamum : 
 Benedictiones publicae cingunt caput, 
 Caelique referunt et praeoccupant modum. 
 
Parentalia 243 
 
 Fatisco referens tanta quae numerant mei 
 Solum dolores, — et dolores, stellulae. 
 
 At tu qui inepte haec dicta censes filio, 
 Nato parentis auferens Encomium, 
 Abito trance cum tuis pudoribus. 
 Ergo ipse solum mutus atque excors ere 
 Strepente mundo tinnulis praeconiis ? 
 Mihine Matris uma clausa est unico, 
 Herbae exoletae, ros-marinus aridus ? 
 Matrine linguam refero, solum ut mordeam ? 
 Abito barde ! Quam pie istic sum impudens ! 
 Tu vero Mater perpetim laudabere 
 Nato dolenti : Uterae hoc debent tibi 
 Quels me educasti ; spoute chartas illinunt 
 Pructum laboram consecutae maximum 
 Laudando Matrem, cum repugnant inscii. 
 
 m 
 
 Cue splendes, o Phoebe ? ecquid demittere matrem 
 
 Ad nos cum radio tam rutilante potes ? 
 At superat caput ilia tuum, quantum ipsa cadaver 
 
 Mens superat ; corpus solum elementa tenent. 
 Scilicet id splendes : haec est tibi causa micandi 
 
 Et lucro apponis gaudia sancta tuo. 
 Verum heus si nequeas coelo demittere matrem, 
 
 Sitque onmis motus nesoia, tanta quies, 
 Fac radios saltem ingemines, ut dextera tortos 
 
 Implicet, et matrem, matre manente, petam. 
 
 IV 
 
 Quid nugor calamo favens ? 
 Mater perpetuis uvida gaudiis, 
 
 b2 
 
244 Parentalia 
 
 Horto pro tenui colit 
 Edenem Boreae flatibus invium, 
 
 Quin coeli mihi sunt mei 
 Materni decus, et debita nominis ; 
 
 Dumque his invigilo frequens 
 Stellarum socius, pellibus exuor. 
 
 Quare Sphaeram egomet meam 
 Connixus, digitis impiger urgeo : 
 
 Te, mater, celebrans diu, 
 Noctu te celebrans luminis aemulo. 
 
 Per te nascor in hunc globum, 
 Exemploque tuo nascor in alterum ; 
 
 Bis tu mater eras mihi, 
 Ut currat paribus gloria tibiis. 
 
 HoETi, deliciae Dominae, marceecite tandem ; 
 
 Ornastis capulum, nee superesse licet. 
 Ecce decus vestrum spLnis horrescit, acuta 
 
 Cultricem revocans anxietate manum : 
 Terram et funus olent floras : Dominaeque cadaver 
 
 Contiguas stirpes afflat, eaeque rosas. 
 In terram violae capite inclinantur opaco, 
 
 Quaeque domus Dominae sit, gravitate docent. 
 Quare hand vos hortos, sed caemeteria dico, 
 
 Dum torus absentem quisque reponit heram. 
 Euge, perite omnes ; nee posthac exeat uUa 
 
 Quaesitum Dominam gemma vel herba suam. 
 Cuncta ad radices redeant, tumulosque paternos, 
 
 Nempe sepulcra Satis numen inempta dedit ; 
 Ocoidite ; aut sane tantisper vivite, donee 
 
 Vespere ros maestis funus honestet aquis. 
 
Parentalia 245 
 
 VI 
 
 Galene, frustra es, cur miserum premens 
 Tot quaestionum fluctibus obruis, 
 Arterias tractans micantes 
 Corporeae fluidaeque molis? 
 Aegroto mentis : quam neque pixides 
 Neo tarda possunt pharmaca consequi, 
 Utrumque si praederis Indum, 
 Ultra animus spatiatur exlex. , 
 Impos medendi, occidere si potes, 
 Nee sic parentem duear ad optimam : 
 Ni sancte, uti Mater, recedam, 
 Morte magis viduabor ilia. 
 Quin cerne ut erres inscie, brachium 
 Tentando sanum : si calet, aestuans, 
 Ardore scribendi calescit, 
 Mater inest saliente vena. 
 Si totus infler, si tumeam crepax, 
 Ne membra culpes, causa animo latet 
 Qui parturit laudes parentis : 
 Nee gravidis medicina tuta est. 
 Irregularis nunc habitus mihi est : 
 Non exigatur crasis ad alterum. 
 Quod tu febrem censes, salubre est, 
 Atque animo medicatur unum. 
 
 vn 
 
 Pallida materni Genii atque exsanguis imago, 
 In nebulas similesque tui res gaudia numquid 
 Mutata ? et pro Matre mihi phantasma dolosum 
 Uberaque aeria hiscentem faUentia natum ? 
 
246 Parentalia 
 
 Vae nubi pluvia gravidae, non lacte, measque 
 Ridenti lacrymas quibus unis concolor unda est. 
 Quin fugias ? mea non fuerat tarn nubila Juno, 
 Tarn segnis facies aurorae nescia vernae, 
 Tain languens genitrix cineri supposta fugaci ; 
 Verum augusta parens, sanctum os caeloque locandum, 
 Quale paludosos jamjam lictura recessus 
 Praetulit Astraea, aut solio Themis afma vetusto 
 Pensilis, atque acri dirimens Examine lites. 
 Hunc vultum ostendas, et tecum nobile spectrum 
 Quod superest vitae, insumam ; Solisque jugales 
 Ipse tuae solum adnectam, sine murmure, thensae. 
 Nee querar ingratos, studiis dum tabidus insto, 
 EfHuxisse dies, suflEocatamve Minervam, 
 Aut spes productas, barbataque somnia vertam 
 In vicium mundo sterili, cui cede cometas 
 Ipse suos, tanquam digno, pallentiaque astra. 
 
 Est mihi bis quinis laqueata domuncula tignis 
 Rure ; brevisque hortus, cujus cum veUere florum 
 Luctatur spatium, qualem tamen eligit aequi 
 Judicii dominus, flores ut junctius halent 
 Stipati, rudibusque voUs impervius hortus 
 Sit quasi fasciculus crescens, et nidus odorum. 
 Hie ego tuque erimus, variae suflStibus herbae 
 Quotidie pasti : tantum verum indue vultum 
 AfEectusque mei simUem ; nee languida misce 
 Ora meae memori menti : ne dispare cultu 
 Pugnaces, teneros florum turbemus odores, 
 Atque inter reliquos horti crescentia foetus 
 Nostra etiam paribus marcescant gaudia fatis. 
 
Parentalia 247 
 
 vm 
 
 Pabvam piamque dum lubenter semitam 
 
 Grandi reaeque praefero, 
 Garpsit malignum sidus banc modestiam 
 
 Vinumque felle miscuit. 
 Hinc fremere totus et minari gestio 
 
 Ipsis severus orbibus, 
 Tandem prehensa comiter lacernula 
 
 Susurrat aure quispiam, 
 Haeo fuerat olim potio Domini tui. 
 
 Gusto proboque dolium. 
 
 IX 
 
 Hoc, Genitrix, scriptum proles tibi sedula mittit. 
 
 Siste parum cantus, dum legis ista, tuos. 
 Nosse sui quid agant, quaedam est quoque musica Sanctis, 
 
 Quaeque olim fuerat cura, manere potest. 
 Nos misere flemus, solesque obducimus almcs 
 
 Occiduis, tanquam duplice nube, genis. 
 Interea classem magnis Rex instruit ausis : 
 
 Nos autem flemus : res ea sola tuis. 
 Ecce solutura est, ventos causata morantes : 
 
 Sin pluviam : fletus suppeditasset aquas. 
 TiUius incumbit Dano, Gallusque marinis : 
 
 Nos flendo : haec nostrum tessera sola ducum. 
 Sic aevum exigitur tardum, dum praepetis anni 
 
 MOle rotae nimiis impediuntur aquis. 
 Plura tibi missurus eram ; nam quae mihi laurus. 
 
 Quod nectar, nisi cum te celebrare diem 1 
 Sed partem in scriptis etiam dum lacryma poscit 
 
 Diluit oppositas candidus humor aquas. 
 
248 j/arenmim 
 
 Nempe hue usque notos tenebricosos, 
 Et maestum nimio madore coelum, 
 Tellurisque Britannicae salivam 
 Injuste satis arguit viator. 
 At te commoriente, magna Mater, 
 Recte, quern trahit, aerem repellit 
 Cum probro madidum, reumque difflat. 
 Nam te nunc ager, urbs, et aula plorant : 
 Te nunc Anglia Scotiaeque binae, 
 Quin te Cambria pervetusta deflet, 
 Deducens lacrymas prions aevi 
 Ne serae mentis tuis venirent. 
 Non est angulus uspiam serenus, 
 Nee cingit mare, nunc inundat omnes. 
 
 XI 
 
 DuM librata suis haeret radicibus ilex 
 
 Nescia Vulturnis cedere firma manet ; 
 Post ubi crudelem sentit divisa securem, 
 
 Quo placet oblato, mortua fertur, hero : 
 Arbor et ipse inversa vocor : dumque insitus almae 
 
 Assideo Matri, robore vinco cedros. 
 Nunc sorti pateo, expositus sine matre procellis, 
 
 Lubricus, et superans mobUitate salum. 
 Tu radix, tu petra mihi firmissima, Mater, 
 
 Ceu polypus, chelis saxa prehendo tenax : 
 Non tibi nunc soli filum abrupere sorores 
 
 Dissutus videor funere et ipse tuo. 
 Unde vagans passim recte vocer alter Ulysses, 
 
 Alteraque haec tua mors, Ilias esto mihi. 
 
Parentalia 249 
 
 xn 
 
 Facessb Stoioa plebs, obambulans cautes, 
 Exuta strato carnis, ossibus constans, 
 lisque skcis, adeo ut os Molossorum 
 Haud glubat inde tres terunoios escae. 
 Dolere prohibes ? aut dolere me gentis 
 Adeo inficetae, plumbeae, Meduseae, 
 Ad saxa speciem retrahentis humanam, 
 Tantoque nequioris optima Pirrha. 
 At forte Matrem perdere haud soles demens: 
 Quin neo potes ; cui praebuit tigris partum. 
 Proinde parco belluis, nee irascor. 
 
 Epitaphium 
 
 Hic sita foeminei laus et victoria sexus : 
 Virgo pudens, uxor fida, severa parens : 
 
 Magnatumque inopumque aequum certamen et ardor ; 
 NobUitate illos, hos pietate rapit. 
 
 Sic excelsa humUisque simul loca dissita junxit, 
 Quicquid habet tellus, quicquid et astra fruens. 
 
 XIV 
 
 ^"X^* dcr^Ei'cs IpKos, a/jMvpbv irveu/itaTos ayyos 
 
 TmSc Trapa, tu/x/Su 8t^£o f^iA.E /wvov. 
 NoB 8 avTOV Ta<^os i(TT acm^p' <^eyyos yap Ikcivov 
 
 ^eyyoiS); jxovov, d)S etKos, (.wavkiv ex"' 
 Nvv opiwi OTi KaX\oi aTTfCpiTOV wttos &7ravyovi 
 
 Ov (raOpov, oiSe jxtXlov iirXero, dXXa vods. 
 °0s 8ia ampjaTiov npoTepov koi vvv 8i' OXv/iirou 
 
 ' k.<TTpa.TTT(j>v, OvplSwv wi 8ta, vet/;te treXas. 
 
250 I'arentalta 
 
 XV 
 
 Mf/Ttp yvvaiKotv &y\r), AvOpuimov ipK, 
 'Ohvp/ia Sai/xovoH', ®cou ytapyiov, 
 Hols vvv atftCirraaai, ydov koi kiv&vvov 
 'HfiSf XiTToOcro KVK\66tv /irraixfiious. 
 Mevovvye a-o^ir)v, tl 8* djnjXXcLx^oi x/>«'>i'i 
 Zoiijs (wepyov arjvBt SiaOtlvai Wkvok 
 
 Mci/ovi' TO yXa^vpoi', koX fi.(\(ppoov rpoirutv, 
 Adyoov Tt (^iXrpov, olcrr' \nrt(tk6itv ktaiv, 
 
 NVV 8' oixOV ivOtvB' (1>S (TTfXlTOS VlK^fjiOpOi 
 
 4>epbjv TO irav, Kayoiv' rj is 'AtropKriat 
 
 Ki^Trou o^vtadSv dvdiv^v cvuS/av, 
 
 Mi'av T* o.Tapnrov (rofUToptimSax Spairat. 
 
 "Eyi) 8i pivi ^jxpaXlav lxyyi\arS) 
 
 El irou Ti);^oi;w.i T^(r8' dpionjs OTpaTrov, 
 
 ©avtiv (7UMi8o)s xpeiTTOi', ^ aXXoJt jSiow. 
 
 XVI 
 
 XaXnriv Sokci 8aKpvo'ac, 
 XotXeTTov ^Jv o4 8oKpi!(rai' 
 XoXtiruiTcpov 8i TraVTMV 
 AaKpvovraf iiMrwita-Bai. 
 Ttvirtipav o5 tis dvSpuiv 
 At8v/;iats Ko'pais toioutt/i' 
 'EjToSvpeTai irptTTovrtus 
 TuXas, tWt y "Apyos (iijv 
 IloXvd/x/iiaTos, TToXuTXas, 
 *Ii'a firirpbi tv$€VOV<Trj^ 
 'Apercls 8ta»tptSttcrM 
 iSi'ais Kopaim Kkavaia. 
 
Porenfo/ta 261 
 
 xvn 
 
 Atdifo ytiKTttfiaa', cinuo^ovtrt icoi oXAot, 
 OuK er* i/aiv tSuis ^uA^ ypo^avres dfMiyor, 
 U/iowo/iup y ofXTTS KCMi^K yoercipov f\6vTt%. 
 OvK m ^v/ta Tocrov cr^er^x^eiv ovSe yap uSwp, 
 Oii ^eyyoSi totrov r* dyatfoK, /luok cis Bipav tSfrftw 
 *H 0^s, ^ Sin'OTOK. trt/jtrta/jjanyi orXcro OTad/u;, 
 Ai}/ioa-u»' T* af&iAfia koXov, 6kiOK Tt KaroTrrpov. 
 Atonal yei^ipav, oraio^otrart yuwuiccs, 
 
 ASrop a;(ei /icyoX^ ittnt)v/i€i'«u' evr^ yap avnu 
 1% Tcpi mcXAaXcoMni', cov stMici\uu>TOs ap&ip' 
 A.-q(riu»fS, ^ fieKmnQ trtftaXtpm K^p rpavftart i-vmt 
 "Epyov oftapiniKmaf vtov rhrXav oifutrc oTurrov 
 M^r^ TEKTOm>v(ni, yot^ nu v4v0«ri «Tvy;i(jpov>'. 
 
 Aio^at yo^rcipoy, extua^ov(ra> orwpai, 
 OuK In Seamiirfp yXvKtpS. /ieXcSuft rpa^unu' 
 *Hs /Swi iTcXuMO Sua})', djCTWts {cktos 
 Ilpans ctoptvovs re XV'*-^ oructSran ktitov 
 ASrop 6 8* a3 Aararos Kvpirp us ^Aios avos 
 S«pu>v 7rr70e(s Povkrjfiatn, rorra itapatvtt. 
 Ztt) y aiTos /Spaj^v Ti Trmwi', wrr ^iroAu' avrqs 
 AoiDi" ojutov ^(atiy rail m-cvftaxtK oXXo ya/itrOai 
 Ibtv/ia, |9u>v rapdSov fiovVois erccotn fUTprjariv. 
 
 xvni 
 
 Kt'par hnnftpuMrra ©ofujotos, oure <rcX]}|ii}S 
 $«>r9S mrovpoftcKi/s, Syiatv iiftfiadf trXeor. 
 
 Kvi- ^/us opiftraiy luyaXrji hn yerroros aurih 
 OuXv>ftat>t^ /3(^aK I'fi^uy awarafiwois. 
 
 'AAAa /i»«»T, ov yop Ttipoxos wort /"fripa Pairt), 
 Kol ffp«iroi" «»8e xapa 8axpixk«nn pcctr. 
 
252 Parentdlia 
 
 XIX 
 
 Excussos manibus oalamos falcemque resumptam 
 
 Rure, sibi dixit Musa fuisse probro. 
 Aggreditur Matrem, conductis carmine Parcis, 
 
 Funereque hoc cultum vindicat aegra suum. 
 Non potui non ire acri stimulante flagello : 
 
 Quin Matris superans carmina poscit honos. 
 Eia, agedum, scribo : vicisti, Musa ; sed audi, 
 
 Stulta semel scribo, perpetuo ut sileam. * 
 
ANTI-TAMI-CAMI-CATEGORIA 
 
 ET GEORGH HERBERTI, ANGLI MUSAE RESPON- 
 
 SORIAE, AD ANDREAE MELVINI, SCOTI, 
 
 ANTI-TAMI-CAMI-CATEGORIAM. 
 
PKO SUPPLICI 
 
 Evangelicorvm Ministrorvm in Anglia, ad Serenis- 
 
 simvm Begem contra Larvatam geminae 
 
 Academiae Gorgonem Apologia 
 
 SIVE 
 
 ANTI-TAMI-OAMI-CATEGOEIA 
 
 Authore A[ndeba] M[blvino] 
 
 Rbsponsum, kon dictum 
 
 Insolens, audax, facinus nefandum, 
 Scilicet, posoit ratio ut decori, 
 Poscit ex omni oflScio ut sibi mens 
 Conscia recti 
 
 Anxiam Christi, vigilemque curam, 
 Quae pias terris animas relictis 
 Sublevans deducit in astra, nigroque 
 Invidet Oreo, 
 
 De saeri casta ratione cultus, 
 De Sacro-sancti Officii decoro, 
 Supplicem ritu veteri libellum 
 Porr'gere Regi, 
 
 Simplici mente atque animo integello, 
 Spiritu recto, et studiis modestis, 
 Numini| sancti veniam, et benigni 
 Regis honorem 
 
256 AntirTami-CamirCategoria 
 
 Rite praefantem : Scelus expiandum 
 Scilicet tauro[rum], et ovium, suumque 
 Millibus centum, voluisse nudo 
 Tangere verbo 
 
 Praesulum fastus ; monuisse Ritus 
 Impios, deridiculos, Ineptos, 
 Lege, ceu labes maculasque lecta ex 
 Gente fugandos. 
 
 Jusque-jurandum ingemuisse jura 
 Exigi contra omnia ; tum misellis 
 Mentibus tristem laqueum injici per 
 Fasque nefasque. 
 
 Turbida iUimi crucis in lavacro 
 Signa consignem ? magico rotatu 
 Verba devolvam 1 sacra vox sacrata im- 
 murmuret unda 
 
 Strigis in morem ? Rationis usu ad 
 Fabor Infantem vacuum ? canoras 
 Ingeram nugas minus audienti 
 Dicta puello 1 
 
 Parvulo impostis manibus sacrabo 
 Gratiae f oedus ? digitone Sponsae 
 Annulus sponsi impositus sacrabit 
 Connubiale 
 
 Foedus aeternae bonitatis ? Unda 
 Num salutari mulier sacerdos 
 Tinget in vitam, Sephoramque reddet 
 Lustrica mater ? 
 
AntirTamirCami-Categoria 257 
 
 Pilei quadrum capiti rotundo 
 Rite quadrabit 1 Pharium Camillo 
 Supparum Christi, et decus Antichristi 
 Pontificale ? 
 
 Pastor examen gregis exigendum 
 Curet invitus, celebrare coenam 
 Promptus arcanam, memorando Jesu 
 Vulnera dira ? 
 
 CantibuB certent Berecinthia aera 
 Musicum fractis ? reboentve rauco 
 Templa mugitu ? Ulecebris supremi ah 
 Rector Olympi 
 
 Captus humanis ? libitumque nobis, 
 Scilicet, Regi id Superum allubescet 1 
 Somniumque aegri cerebri profanum est 
 Dictio sacra ? 
 
 Haud secus lustri Lupa Vaticani 
 Romuli faecem bibit, et bibendum 
 Porrigit poc'lo, populisque et ipsis 
 Regibus aureo. 
 
 Non ita aetemi Wittakerus acer 
 Luminis vindex patriaeque lumen 
 Dixit aut sensit ; neque celsa summi 
 Penna Renoldi. 
 
 Certa sublimes aperire calies, 
 Sueta coelestes iterare cursus, 
 Laeta misceri niveis beatae 
 Civibus aulae ; 
 
258 Anti-Tatni-CamirCategoria 
 
 Nee Tami aut Cami accola saniore 
 Mente, qui coelum sapit in frequent! 
 Hermathenaeo et celebri Lycaeo 
 Culta juYentus, 
 
 Cujus affulget genio Jovae lux : 
 Cui uitens Sol justitiae renidet : 
 Quern jubar Christi radiantis alto 
 Spectat Olympo. 
 
 Bucerum laudem ? memoremque magnum 
 Martyrem ? Gammas geminas renati 
 Aurei saec'li, duo dura saeri 
 Fulmina belli ? 
 
 Alteram Camus liquido recursu, 
 Alterum Tamus trepidante lympha 
 Audiit, multum stupuitque magno 
 Ore sonantem. 
 
 Annfe mulcentem Rhodanum et Lemanum 
 Praedicem Bezam viridi in senecta ? 
 Octies cujus trepidavit aetas 
 Gaudere denos 
 
 Solis anfractus, reditusque, et ultra 
 Quinque percurrens spatiosa in annos 
 Longius florem viridantis aevi 
 Prorogat et ver. 
 
 Oris erumpit scatebra perenni 
 Amnis exundans, gravidique rores 
 Gratia fecunda animos apertis 
 Auribus implent. 
 
Anti-TamirCami-Categoria 259 
 
 Major hie omni invidia, et superstes 
 Millibus mille, et Sadeele, et omnium 
 Maximo Calvdjo, aliisque veri 
 Testibus aequis ; 
 
 Voce olorina liquidas ad undas 
 Nunc canit laudes Genitoris almi. 
 Carmen et nato canit eliquante 
 Numinis aura, 
 
 Sensa de casta sacra puriore. 
 Dicta de cultu potiore sancta, 
 Anna quae in castris jugulent severi 
 Tramitis hostes. 
 
 Cana cantanti juga ninguidarum 
 Alpium applaudont, resonantque valles ; 
 Jura concentn nemorum sonoro, 
 Et pater Ister, 
 
 Consonant longe ; pater et bicomia 
 Bhenus ascensum ingeminat : Garumna, 
 Sequana, atque Arar, liger : insularum et 
 Undipotentom 
 
 Magna pars intenta Britannicarum 
 Voce conspirat liquida : solumque 
 Et salum coeli aemula praecinentis 
 More modoque 
 
 Coneinunt Bezae numeris modisque 
 Et polo plaudunt ; referuntque leges 
 Lege quas sanxit pius' ardor, et Rex 
 Scoto-britannus. 
 
 s2 
 
260 AntinTamirCamirCategoria 
 
 Sicut edictum in tabulis ahenis 
 Servat aeternum pia cura Regis, 
 Qui mare et terras variisque mundum 
 Temperat horis: 
 
 Cujus aequalis Soboles Parenti 
 Gentis electae Pater atque Gustos ; 
 Par et ambobus, veniens utrinque 
 Spiritus almus ; 
 
 Quippe Tres-unus Deus ; unus actus, 
 Una natura est tribus ; una virtus, 
 Una Majestas, Deitas et una, 
 Gloria et ima. 
 
 Una vis immensa, perennis una 
 Vita, lux una, et sapientia una, 
 Una mens, una et ratio, una vox, et 
 Una voluntas. 
 
 Lenis, indulgens, facilis, benigna ; 
 Dura et inclemens, rigida et severa ; 
 Semper aetema, omnipotens, et aequa. 
 Semper et alma : 
 
 Lucidum cujus speculum est, reflectens 
 Aureum vultus jubar, et verendum, 
 Virginis proles, sata coelo, et alti In- 
 terpres Olympi : 
 
 Qui Patris mentemque animumque sancti 
 Pilius pandit face noctiluca, 
 Sive doctrinae documenta, seu com- 
 pendia vitae. 
 
AntirTami-CamirCategoria 261 
 
 Publicae, privae, sacra scita Regni 
 Regis ad nutum referens, domusque 
 Ad roluntatem Domini instituta 
 Singula librans. 
 
 Luce quam Phoebus melior refundit. 
 Lege quam legum- tulit ipse -lator, 
 Gujus exacti ofiScii suprema est 
 Norma vbluntas. 
 
 Caeca mens humana, hominum voluntas 
 Frava, et afiectus rabidi : indigetque 
 Luce mens, norma officii voluntas. 
 Lege libido : 
 
 Quisquis banc surda negat aure et orba 
 Mente dat ferri rapidis procellis, 
 Ter quater caudez, stolidusque et omni ex 
 Parte misellus. 
 
 Quisquis banc prava bibit aure, qua se 
 Fundit ubertim liquidas sub auras, 
 Ele ter prudens sapiensque et omni ex 
 Parte beatus. 
 
 Ergo vos Cami proceres, Tamique, 
 Quos via flexit malesuadus error, 
 Denuo rectum, duce Rege Regum, in- 
 sistite callem. 
 
 Vos metus tangit si hominum nee ullus. 
 At Deum fandi memorem et nefandi 
 Vindicem sperate, et amoena solis 
 Tartara Diris ; 
 
262 Anti-TamirCami-Caiegoria 
 
 Quae manent sontes animas trucesque 
 Praesulum fastus, male quos perurit 
 Pervigil zelus vigiltun, et gr^js cus- 
 todia pemox. 
 
 Veste bis tincta Tyrio superbos 
 Murice, et pastos dape pingiiiore 
 Regia quondam aut Saliari inuncta ab- 
 domine coena. 
 
 Qualis Ursini, Damasique fastus 
 Turgidus, luxuque ferox, feroqne 
 Ambitu pugnax, sacram et aedem et urbem 
 Caede nefanda 
 
 Gvium incestavit, et ominosum 
 Traxit exemplum veniens in aevum 
 Praesulum quod nobilinm indecorns 
 Provocat ordo. 
 
 Quid fames auri sacra ? quid cupido 
 Ambitus diri fera non propagat 
 Posteris culpae ? mala damna quanta 
 Plurima fundit 1 
 
PEO DISCIPLINA ECCLESIAE NOSTEAE 
 EPIGEAMMATA APOLOGETICA 
 
 AUGUSTISSIMO POTENTISSIMOQUE MONAECHAE JaCOBO, 
 
 D. G. Magnae Bkitanniab, Feiauciab, et Hiberniae 
 Rsoi, FmEi Defensobi, &g. Geo. Hebbebtits. 
 
 Edge recedentis foecundo in littore Nili 
 Sol generat populum luce fovente novum. 
 
 Ante tui, Caesar, quam fulserat aura favoiis, 
 Nostrae etiam Musae vile fuere lutum; 
 
 Nunc adeo per te vivunt, ut repere possint, 
 Sintque ansae thalamam soils adire tui. 
 
 Illusteis. celsissimoque Caeolo, Walliae et 
 JuvENTuns Pbincipi 
 
 Quam chartam tibi porrigo recentem, 
 Humanae decus atque apex juventae, 
 Obtutu placido benignus affles, 
 Namque aspectibus e tuis vel unus 
 Moidaces tineas, nigrasque blattas, 
 Quas livor mihi parturit, retundet, 
 Ceu, quas culta timet seges, pruinas 
 Nascentes radii fugant, vel acres 
 Tantum dulcia leniunt catarrhos. 
 Sic, o te, juvenem senemve, credat 
 Mors semper juvenem, senem Britanni. 
 
264 Pro DiscipUna Ecclesiae Nostrae 
 
 m 
 
 Revbeendissimo in Christo Patri AC Domino 
 Episcopo Vintoniensi, &c. 
 
 Sancte Pater, ooeli custos, quo dootius uno 
 Terra nihil, neo quo sanctius astra vident ; 
 
 Cum mea futilibus numeris se verba viderent 
 Claudi, pane tuas praeteriere fores. 
 
 Sed propere dextreque redusdt euntia sensus, 
 Ista docens soli scripta quadrare tibi. 
 
 IV 
 
 Ad Regbm Epigrammata duo 
 
 Instituti Epigrammatici Batio 
 
 Cum miUena tuam pulsare negotia mentem 
 Constet, et ex ilia pendeat orbis ope ; 
 
 Ne te produotis videar lassare camoenis. 
 Pro solido, Caesar, carmine frusta dabo. 
 
 Cum tu contundens, Catharos, vultuque librisque, 
 
 Grata mihi mensae sunt analecta tuae. 
 
 V 
 
 Ad Melvinum 
 
 NoN mea fert aetas, ut te, veterane, lacessam ; 
 
 Non ut te superem : res tamen ipsa feret. 
 Aetatis numerum supplebit causa minorem ; 
 
 Sic tu nunc juvenis factus, egoque senex. 
 Aspice, dum perstas, ut te tua deserat aetas ; 
 
 Et mea sint canis scripta referta tuis. 
 
Epigrammata Apohgetica 265 
 
 Ecce tamen quam suavis ero ! cum, fine duelli, 
 Clauserit extremas pugna peracta vices, 
 
 Turn tibi, ei placeat, fugientia tempora reddam ; 
 Sufficiet votis lata juventa meis. 
 
 VI 
 
 In Monstrtjm vocabuli Anti-Tami-Cami-Catbgokia 
 
 Ad eundem 
 
 QTTAM bellus homo es ! lepido quam nomine fingis 
 
 Istas Anti-Tami-Cami-Categorias ! 
 Sic Catharis nova sola placent ; res, verba novantur : 
 
 Quae sapiunt aevum, ceu cariosa jacent. 
 Quin liceat nobis aliquas procudere voces : 
 
 Non tibi fingendi sola taberna patet. 
 Cum sacra perturbet vester furor omnia, scriptum 
 
 Hoc erit, Anti-furi-Puri-Categoria. 
 Pollubra vel cum olim damnaris Regia in ara, 
 
 Est Anti-pelvi-Melvi-Categoria. 
 
 vn 
 Partitio Anxi-Tami-Cami-Catbgoeiae 
 
 Tees video partes, quo re distinctius utar, 
 
 Anti categoriae, Scoto-Britanne, tuae : 
 Ritibus una sacris opponitur ; altera sanctos 
 
 Praedicat auctores ; tertia plena Deo est. 
 Postremis ambabus idem sentimus uterque ; 
 
 Ipse pios laudo ; numen et ipse colo. 
 Non nisi prima suas patiuntur praelia lites. 
 
 bene quod dubium possideamus agrum ! 
 
266 Pro Disciplina Eccksiae Nostrae 
 
 vin 
 In Metei Genus 
 
 Cue, ubi tot ludat numeris antiqua poesis, 
 
 Sola tibi Sapphp feminaque una placet ? 
 Cur tibi tarn facile non arrisere poetae 
 
 Heroum grand! carmina fulta pede ? 
 Cur non lugentes elegi ? non acer Iambus ? 
 
 Commotos animos rectius ista decent. 
 Scilicet hoc vobis proprium, qui purius itis, 
 
 Et populi spurcas creditis esse vias ; 
 Vos ducibus missis, missis doctoribus, omnes 
 
 Femineum blanda fallitis arte genus : 
 Nunc etiam teneras quo versus gratior aures 
 
 Mulceat, imbelles complacuere modi. 
 
 IX 
 
 De Laevata Goegone 
 
 GoBGONA cur diram larvasque obtrudis inanes ? 
 
 Cum prope sit nobis Musa, Medusa procul ! 
 Si, quia felices olim dixere poetae 
 
 Pallada gorgoneam, sic tua verba placent. 
 Vel potius liceat distinguere. Tuque tuique 
 
 Sumite gorgoneam, nostraque Pallas erit. 
 
 X 
 
 Db Peaesulum Fastu 
 
 Peaesulibus nostris fastus, Melvine, tumentes 
 Saepius aspergis. Siste, pudore vacas. 
 
 An quod semotum populo laquearibus altis 
 Eminet, id tumidum protinus esse feres ? 
 
Epigrammata Apologetica 267 
 
 Ergo etiam Bolem dicas, ignave, superbum, 
 Qui tarn eublimi conspioit orbe viam : 
 
 Ille tamon, quamvis altus, tua crimina ridens 
 Assiduo vilem lumino cingit humum. 
 
 Sio laudandus erit nactus sublimia Praeeul, 
 Qui duloi misoros irradiabit opo. 
 
 XI 
 
 Dm Gdmina Aoadsmia 
 
 Qois hie Buperbifc, oro ? tunc, an Praosules ? 
 
 Quos dento nigro corripis ? 
 Tu duplioem solus Camaonarum thronum 
 
 Virtute peroellis tua ; 
 Et unus impar aostimatur viribus, 
 
 Utrumque stornis calcitro ; 
 Omnesque stulti audimus, aut hypocritae, 
 
 Te perspioaoi atquo integro. 
 An reotius nos, si vioos vertas, probi, 
 
 Te contumaoi ot livido ? 
 Quisquis tuetur perspioillis Belgiois 
 
 Qua parte tractari solont, 
 Res ampliantur, sin per adversara videfc, 
 
 Minora fiunt omnia ; 
 Tu qui superbos oaetoros existimas, 
 
 Superbius cum te niliil, 
 Vertas speoillum ; nam, prout se res habent, 
 
 Vitro minus rocte uteris. 
 
 xir 
 
 Db S. Baptismi Rit0 
 
 Cum tener ad sacros infans sistatur aquales, 
 Quod puer ignorat, verba profana putas ? 
 
268 Pro Disciplina Ikxiesiae Nostrae 
 
 Annon sic mercamnr agroe ? qtdbas ecce Bedemptcc 
 
 Comparat aetemi legask beata DeL 
 Scilicet emptoiem si ree aat parcior aetas 
 
 Impediant, ajdces l^is amicus obit. 
 Forsitan et prohibes infans portetTir ad uiMlas, 
 
 £t per se templi limnTi adire velis : 
 Sin, Melvine, pedes alienoe poetnlet iii£aiB3, 
 
 Car sic dispUceat tox aKena tibi 1 
 Bectins innocnis lact^itibiis omnia piaestes. 
 
 Quae ratio per se, si sit adnlta, facit. 
 Quid Tetat at pueii Ta^tos ss^tpleat ^ter. 
 
 Cam neqaeat daias ipee litare preces ? 
 Saevns es eripiens parvis Tadimcmia codi : 
 
 Et tibi sit nemo praes, obi poscis opem. 
 
 XIII 
 
 Db SiaerACULO Cettcis 
 
 Cob tanta sofflas probra in innocuam cracem ? 
 
 Xon plus maligni daemons Cbzisti crace 
 
 Unqoam fngari, qoam tui socii solent. 
 
 Apostolomm culpa non levis fuit 
 
 ^tasse Christi spiiitam efflantis cracem. 
 
 Et Christianas quisqae piscis dicitar 
 
 TertaUiano, propter undae pollabinm. 
 
 Quo tingimur parri. Ecquis aatem bracfaiis 
 
 Nataie sine clarissima potest cmce ? 
 
 Sed non moramur : namqne restra crux eat, 
 
 Vobis faventibusye yd. negantibas. 
 
Epigrammata Apologetica 269 
 
 xrv 
 De Jdbamento Ecclesiae 
 
 ABTiCTrus sacris quidam subscribere jussus. 
 Ah, Cheiragra vetat, quo minus, inquit, agam 
 
 vere dictum et belle ! cum torqueat omnes 
 Ordinis osores articulare malum. 
 
 XV 
 
 Db Pttetficationb post Pubepbetom 
 
 Ehixas pueros matres se sistere templis 
 
 Displicet, et laudis tura litare Deo. 
 Forte quidem, cum per vestras Ecclesia turbas 
 
 Flnctibus intemis exagitata natet, 
 Vos sine matemis hymnis infantia vidit, 
 
 Vitaque neglectas est satis ulta preces, 
 Sed nos, cum nequeat parvorum lingua parentem 
 
 Non laudare Deum, credimus esse nefas. 
 Quotidiana suas poscant si fercula grates. 
 
 Nostra caro sanctae nescia laudis erit ? 
 Adde piis animis quaevis occasio lucro est. 
 
 Qua possiat humUi fundere corde preces. 
 Sic ubi jam mulier decerpti conscia pomi 
 
 Ingemat ob partus, ceu maledicta, suos. 
 Apposite quum commotimi subfugerat olim. 
 
 Nunc redit ad mitem, ceu benedicta, Deum. 
 
 XVI 
 
 Db Antichbisti decoeb Tonttficaui 
 
 Non quia Pontificum sunt olim afOata veneno. 
 Omnia sunt temere projicienda foras. 
 
 Tollantur si cuncta malus quae polluit usus, 
 Non remanent nobis corpora, non animae. 
 
270 Pro Discvplina Ecclesiae Nostrae 
 
 xvn 
 
 De Supekpelliceo 
 
 Quid sacrae tandem meruere vestes ? 
 Quas malus livor jaculis lacessit, 
 PoUuens castam chlamydis colorem 
 
 Dentibus atrig ? 
 
 Quicquid ex urna meliore ductum 
 Luce praelustri, vel honore pollet. 
 Mens sub insigni specie coloris 
 
 Concipit albi. 
 
 Scilicet talem liquet esse solem ; 
 Angeli vultu radiante candent ; 
 Incolae coeli melioris alba 
 
 Veste triumphant. 
 
 E creaturis sine mentis usu 
 Conditis binas homini sequendas 
 Spiritus proponit, et est utrique 
 
 Candor amicus. 
 
 Ergo ringantur pietatia hostes, 
 Eilii noctis, populus malignus, 
 Dum Buum nomen tenet et triumphat 
 Albion albo. 
 
 xvm 
 
 De Pileo Quadbato 
 
 Quae dicteria fuderat Britannus 
 Superpellicei tremendus hostis;' 
 Isthaec pileus audiit propinquua, 
 Et partem capitis petit supremam ; 
 Non sic effugit angulus vel unua 
 Quo dictis minus acribus notetur. 
 
Epigrammata Apologetica 271 
 
 Verum heus ! si reputes, tibi tuisque 
 Longe pileus anteit galerum, 
 Ut fervor cerebri refrigeretur, 
 Qui vestras edit intime medullaa 
 Sed qui tarn male pileos habetis, 
 Quos Ecclesia comprobat, verendum 
 Ne tandem caput ejus impetatis. 
 
 XIX 
 
 In Cathaeum 
 
 Cub Latiam linguam reris nimis esse profanam ? 
 
 Quam praemissa probant secula, nostra probant ? 
 Cur teretem Graecam damnas, atque Hellada totam, 
 
 Qua tamen occisi f oedera scripta Dei ? 
 Scilicet Hebraeam cantas, et perstrepis unam : 
 
 Haec facit ad nasum sola loquela tuum. 
 
 XX 
 
 De Episcopis 
 
 Qttos charos habuit Chiistua Apostolos 
 Testatosque suo tradiderat gregi ; 
 Ut cum mors rabidis unguibus imminens 
 Doctrinae fluvios clauderet aureae. 
 Mites acciperent Lampada Praesules, 
 Servarentque sacrum clavibus ordinem 
 Hos nunc barbaries impia vellicat 
 Indulgens propriis ambitionibus, 
 Et quos ipsa nequit scandere vertices 
 Hos ad se trahere, et mergere gestiens. 
 coecum populum ! si bona res siet 
 Praesul, cur renuis ? sin mala, pauculos 
 Quam cunctos fieri praestat Episcopos 
 
272 Pro Disciplina Ecclesiae JSostrae 
 
 XXI 
 
 Da nsDEM : ad MBiiVrNUM 
 
 Pbabstjlibus dirum te Musa coarguit hostem ; 
 An quia textores artificesque probas ? 
 
 xxn 
 Db Tbxtoeb Cathaeo 
 
 Cum piscatorea Textor legit esse vocatos, 
 Ut sanctum Domini persequerentur opus ; 
 
 Ille quoque invadit Divinam Flaminis artem, 
 Subtegmen reti dignius esse putans, 
 
 Et nunc perlongas Scripturae stamine telas 
 Torquet, et in textu doctor utroqne cluet. 
 
 xxm 
 
 De MaGICIS R0TATIBTI3 
 
 Quos tu rotatus, quale murmur auscultas 
 In ritibus nostris ? Ego audio nullum. 
 Age, provocemus usque ad angelos ipsos 
 Auresque superas : arbitri ipsi sint litis, 
 Utrum tenore sacra nostra sint, nee ne 
 Aequabili facta. Ecquid ergo te tanta 
 Calumniandi concitavit urtica, 
 Ut quae Papicolis propria, assuas nobis, 
 Falsumque potius, quam crepes versu ? 
 Tu perstrepis tamen ; utque tingeat carmen 
 Tuum tibi, poeta belle non mystes 
 Magicos rotatus, et perhorridas striges, 
 Dicteriis mordacibus notans, clausus 
 Non convenire precibus ista Divinis. 
 O saevus hostis ! quam ferociter pugnas ] 
 NUiilne respondebimus tibi ? Fatemur. 
 
Epigrammata Apologetka 273 
 
 XXIV 
 
 Ad Pbiatees 
 
 SAECLITM lepidum ! circumstant undique Fratres, 
 Papicolisque sui sunt Catharisque sui. 
 
 Sic nunc plena boni sunt omnia Fratris, amore 
 Gum nil fraterno rarius esse queat. 
 
 XXV 
 DS LABE MACniilSQUl! 
 
 Labecdlas maculasque, nobis objicis : 
 Quid ? hoccine est mirum 1 Viatores sumus. 
 Quo sanguis est Christi, nisi ut maculas lavet, 
 Quas spargit animae corporis propius lutum ? 
 Vos ergo puri ! nomen appositissimum 
 Quo vulgus ornat vos ! At audias parum ; 
 Astronomus olim, ut fama, dum maculas diu, 
 Quas luna habet, tuetur, in foveam cadit, 
 Totusque caenum Cynthiae ignosoit notis. 
 Ecclesia est milii luna ; perge in fabula. 
 
 XXVI 
 
 Db Mtjsica Sacra 
 
 Cub efficaci, Deucalion, manu. 
 Post restitutos fluctibus obices, 
 Mutas in humanam figuram 
 
 Saxa supervacuasque cautes ? 
 
 Quin redde formas, O bone, pristinas, 
 Et nos reducas ad lapides avos : 
 Nam saxa mirantur canentes, 
 
 Saxa lyras cithaurasque callent. 
 
274 Pro Disclplina Ecclesiae Nostrae 
 
 Rupes tenaces et silices ferunt 
 Potentiori carmine percitas 
 
 Saltus per incultos lacusque 
 Orphea mellifluum Becutas. 
 
 Et Baxa diris hispida montibus 
 Amphionis testitudine nobili 
 
 Percussa dum currunt ad urbem, 
 Moenia contribuere Thebis. 
 
 Tantum repertum est trux hominum genus. 
 Qui templa sacris expoliant choris, 
 Non erubescentes vel ipsas 
 Duritia superare cautes. 
 
 plena centum musica gratiis, 
 Praeclariorum spirituum cibus. 
 
 Quo me vocas tandem, tuumque 
 Ut celebrem decus insusurrebs 1 
 
 Tu Diva miro pollice spiritum 
 
 Caeno profani corporis exuens 
 
 Ter millies caelo reponis : 
 
 Astra rogant, Novus hie quis hospes ? 
 
 Ardore Moses concitus entheo, 
 Mersis revertens laetus ab hostibus 
 Exsuscitat plebem sacratos 
 
 Ad Dominum properare cantus. 
 
 Quid hooce ? Psalmos audion' ? O dapes ! 
 O succulenti balsama spiritus ! 
 Bamenta caeli, guttulaeque 
 Deciduae melioris orbis ! 
 
Epigrammata Apologetica 275 
 
 Quos David, ipsae deliciae Dei, 
 
 Ingens piorum gloria Principum, 
 
 Sionis excelsas ad arces 
 
 Cum citharis lituisque miscet. 
 
 Miratur aequor finitimum sonos, 
 Et ipse Jordan sistit aquas stupens ; 
 Prae quo Tibris vultum recondit, 
 Eridanusque pudore fusus. 
 
 Tun' obdis aures, grex novo, barbaras, 
 Et nullus audis ? cantibus obstrepens, 
 Ut, quo fatiges verberesque 
 Pulpita, plus spatii lucreris 
 
 At cui videri prodigium potest 
 Mentes, quietis tympana publicae, 
 Disoordiis plenas sonoris 
 
 Harmoniam tolerare nullam. 
 
 xxvn 
 
 Db badem 
 
 Cantus sacros, profane, mugitus vocas ? 
 Mugire multo mavelim quam rudere. 
 
 xxvni 
 
 De Ritotjm Usu 
 
 Cum primum ratibus suis 
 Nostram Caesar ad insulam 
 Olim appelleret, intuens 
 Omnes indigenas loci 
 Viventes sine vestibus, 
 victoria, clamitat, 
 Certa ao perfaoilis mihi I 
 T 2 
 
276 Fio DiscipJina Eccksiae Nostrae 
 
 Non alio Cathari modo 
 Dum sponsam Domini piis 
 Orbam ritibus oxpetunt, 
 Atque ad barbariora patruni 
 Vellent omnia regredi, 
 lUam tegminis insciam 
 Prorsus daemoni, et hostibua 
 Exponunt superabilem. 
 
 Atqui vos secuB, o boni, 
 Sentire sapere addecet, 
 Si vestros animos regant 
 Scripturae canones sacrae : 
 Namque haeo, jure, cuipiam 
 Vestem non adimi suam, 
 Sed nudis et egentibus 
 Non suam tribui jubet. 
 
 XXIX 
 
 De Annulo Conjugal! 
 
 Sed nee conjugii signum, Melvine, probabis ? 
 
 Nee vel tantillum pignua habebit amor ? 
 Nulla tibi si signa plaoent, e nubibus areum 
 
 Eripe caelesti qui moderatur aquae. 
 Dla quidem a nostra non multum abludit imago, 
 
 Annulus et plenus tempore forsan erit. 
 Sin nebulis parcas, et nostro parcito signo, 
 
 Cui non absimilis sensus inesse solet. 
 Scilicet, ut quos ante suas cum conjuge taedas 
 
 Merserat in lustris perniciosa Venus, 
 Annulus hos revooet, sistatque libidinis undas 
 
 Legitimi signum connubiale tori. 
 
Epigmmmafa Apologetica 277 
 
 XXX 
 
 Dk Mukdis bt MnrDANi3 
 
 Ex praelio andae ignisqae, si physicis fides, 
 
 Tranquillus aer nascitur : 
 Sic ex prctfano Cosmico et Catliaro potest 
 
 Christiauus extundi bonus. 
 
 XXXI 
 Db OBATIO^~E DOMEiTCA 
 
 QrAM CJhristus immortalis innocuo gi^ 
 Voce sua dederat, 
 Qois crederet mortalibns 
 Orationem rejici septemplicem, 
 Quae miseris clypeo 
 Ajacis est praeetantior ! 
 Haec verba, snperos advolaturoa thronos 
 Christus, ut auxilii 
 Nos hand inanes linqneret. 
 Cum dignius nil posset ant melius dare, 
 l^gnora cara sni 
 
 Pmenda nobis tradidit. 
 Quia sic amieum excipiet, ut Catbari Denm, 
 Qui renorare sacri 
 
 Audent amoris symbolum ? 
 Tu vero quisquis es. cave, ne dum n^es, 
 Improbe, verba Dei, 
 Te den^et Vkbbtjm Deus. 
 
278 Pro DiscipUna Ecclesiae Nostrae 
 
 X XX TT 
 
 In Cathaeum quendam 
 
 Cum templis effare, madent sudaria, mappae, 
 Trux caper alanim, suppara, laena, sagum. 
 
 Quin populo, Clemens, aliquid largire caloris : 
 Nunc sudas solus ; caetera turba riget. 
 
 yyxnr 
 
 De Ltjpa lustm Vaticani 
 
 Caltjmniabum nee pudor quis nee modus. 
 Nee Vaticanae desines unquam lupae ? 
 Metus inanes ! Nos pari praeterrehi 
 niam Charybdim cautione novimus 
 Vestramque ScyUam, aequis parati spiculis 
 Britannicam in vulpem inque Romanam lupam. 
 Dicti fidem firmabimus anagrammate. 
 
 xxxrv 
 
 De Impositione Manxtum 
 
 Nec dextra te fugit almi amoris emblema ? 
 Atqui manus imponere int^ras praestat 
 Quam, more vestro, imponere inscio vulgo. 
 Quanto impositio melior est impostura ! 
 
 XXXV 
 SUPPLICUM AIlNISTEOBCM RaPTUS KO)/itt)8ou/iO'0?. 
 
 Ambitio Cathari quinque constat actibus. 
 I. Primo, unus aut alter parum ritus placet. 
 Jam repit impietas volatura illico. 
 
Epigrammata Apologetica 279 
 
 n. Mox dispMcent omnes. Ubi hoc permanserit 
 m. Paulo, secretis mussitans in angulis 
 Quaerit recessus. Incalescit fabula, 
 IV. Erumpit inde, et continere nescius 
 V. Sylvas pererrat. Fibulis dein omnibus 
 Prae spiritu ruptis, quo eas resarciat 
 Amstellodamum corripit se. Plaudite. 
 
 xxxvi 
 De Auctobttm Enumeeatione 
 
 Quo magis invidiam nobis, et crimina confles, 
 
 Pertrahis in partes nomina magna tuas ; 
 Martyra, Calvinum, Bezam, doctumque Bucerum, 
 
 Qui tamen in nostros fortiter ire negant. 
 Whitaker, erranti quem praefers carmine, miles 
 
 Assiduus nostrae papUionis erat. 
 Nos quoque possemus longas conscribere turmas. 
 
 Si numero starent praelia, non animis. 
 Primus adest nobis, Pharisaeis omnibus hostis, 
 
 Christus Apostolici cinctus amore gregis. 
 Tu geminas belli portas, o Petre, repandis, 
 
 Dum gladium stringens Paulus ad arma vocat. 
 Inde Patres pergunt quadrati, et tota Vetustas. 
 
 Nempe novatores quis veteranus amat ? 
 Jam Constantinus multo se milite miscet ; 
 
 Invisamque tuis erigit hasta Crucem. 
 Hipponensis adest properans, et torquet in hostes 
 
 Lampada, qua studiis invigilare solet. 
 Teque Deum altemis cantans Ambrosius iram, 
 
 Immemor antiqui mellis, eundo coquit. 
 Haec etiam ad pugnam praesens, qua vivimus, aetas 
 
 Innumeram nostris partibus addit opem. 
 
280 Pro Bisciplina Ecdesiae Nostrae 
 
 Quos inter plenusqae Deo genioque Jacobus 
 
 Defendit veram mente manuqne fidem. 
 Interea ad sacrum stimulat sacra Musica bellum. 
 
 Qua sine vos miseri lentins itis ope. 
 Militat et nobis, quem vos contemnitis, Ordo, 
 
 Ordine discemi maxima bella solent. 
 O vos invalidos ! audi quem talibus armis 
 
 Eventum Naso vidit et admonuit ; 
 Una dies Catharos ad bellum miserat onmes : 
 
 Ad bellum missos perdidit una dies. 
 
 TX X VII 
 
 De Attri sacea Fame 
 
 Clatjdis avaritia satyram, statnisqae sacroram 
 Ease recidendas, Aeace noster, opes. 
 
 Caetera condonabo tibi, scombrisque remittam: 
 Sacrilegum carmen, censeo, flamma voret. 
 
 Ad Scotiam Peoteepticok ad Pacem 
 
 Scotia, quae frigente jaces porrecta sub Arcto, 
 
 Cur adeo immodica relligione oales ? 
 Anne tuas flammas ipsa Antiperistasis auget, 
 
 Ut nive torpentes incaluere manus 1 
 Aut ut pruna gelu summo mordacius urit. 
 
 Sic acuunt zelnm frigora tanta tuum ? 
 Quin nocuas extingue faces, precor : nnda propinqna est, 
 
 Et tibi vicioas porrigit aequor aquas ; 
 Aut potius Christi sanguis demissus ab alto, 
 
 Vicinusque magis nobiliorqne fluit : 
 Ne, si flamma novis adolescat mota flabellis. 
 
 Ante diem vestro mundus ab igne mat. 
 
Epigrammata Apologeiica 281 
 
 XXXIX 
 
 Ad seductos Innocentes 
 
 Innocitae mentes, quibus inter flumina mundi 
 
 Ducitur illimi Candida vita fide, 
 Absit ut ingenuum pungant mea verba pudorem ; 
 
 Perstringunt vestros carmina sola duces. 
 utinam aut illorum oculi, quod comprecor unum, 
 
 Vobis, aut illis pectora vestra forent ! 
 
 XL 
 
 Ad Melvinum 
 
 Atqui te precor unice per ipsam, 
 Quae scripsit numeros, manum ; per omnes 
 Musarum calices, per et beatos 
 Sarcasmos quibus artifex triumphas ; 
 Quin per Presbyteros tuos ; per urbem, 
 Quam curto nequeo referre versu ; 
 Per caras tibi nobUesque dextras, 
 Quas subseriptio neutiquam inquinavit ; 
 Per quicquid tibi suaviter probatur ; 
 Ne me carminibus nimis dicacem, 
 Aut saevum reputes. Arnica nostra est 
 Atque edentula Musa, nee veneno 
 Splenis perlita contumeliosi. 
 
 Nam si te cuperem secare versu, 
 Totamque evomerem potenter iram 
 Quam aut Ecclesia despicata vobis, 
 Aut laesae mihi suggerunt Athenae, 
 Et quern non stimularet haec simultas, 
 Jam te funditus igneis Camoenis, 
 Et Musa crepitante subruissem : 
 
282 Pro JDisciplina Ecclesiae Nostrae 
 
 Omnis linea sepiam recusans 
 Plumbo ducta fuisset aestuanti, 
 Centum Btigmatibus tuos inurens 
 Profanos fremitus bonasque samias : 
 Plus charta haeo mea delibuta dictis 
 Haesisset tibi, quam suprema vestis 
 Olim accreverit Herculi furenti : 
 Quin hoc carmine lexicon probrorum 
 Extrusdssem, ubi, cum moneret usus, 
 Haurirent tibi tota plaustra Musae. 
 
 Nunc haec omnia sustuli, tonantes 
 AfEectus soeiis tuis remittens. 
 Non deridiculumve sive ineptum, 
 Non striges magiamve vel rotatus, 
 Non fastus tibi turgidos repono ; 
 Errores, maculas superbiamque, 
 Labes somniaque ambitusque diros. 
 Tinnitus Berecynthios omittens 
 Nil horum regero tibi merenti. 
 
 Quin te laudibus orno : quippe dice, 
 Caesar sobrius ad rei Latinae 
 Unus dicitur advenire cladem : 
 Et tu solus ad Angliae procellas. 
 Cum plerumque tua sodalitate 
 Nil sit crassius impolitiusve, 
 Accedis bene doctus, et poeta. 
 
 XLI 
 
 Ad eundem 
 
 Incipis irridens ; stomachans in carmine pergis ; 
 Desinis exclamans : tota figura vale. 
 
Epigranvmata Apologetica 283 
 
 XLII 
 
 Ad sbeen. Regem 
 
 EccB pererratas, regum doctissime, nugas, 
 Quas gens inconsulta, suis vexata procellis, 
 Libandas nobis absorbendasque propinat ; 
 caecos animi fratres ! quis vestra fatigat 
 Corda furor, spissaque afflat caligine sensus ? 
 Cernite quam formosa suas Ecclesia pennas 
 Explicat, et radiis ipsum pertingit Olympum ; 
 Vicini populi passim mirantnr, et aequos 
 Mentibus attonitis cupiunt addiscere ritus ; 
 Angelicae turmae nostris se coetibus addunt ; 
 Ipse etiam Christus coelo speculatus ab alto 
 Intuituque uno stringens habitacula mundi, 
 Sola mihi plenos, ait, exhibet Anglia cultus. 
 Scilicet has olim divisas aequore terras 
 Seposuit Divina sibi, cum conderet orbem, 
 Progenies gemmamque sua quasi pyxide clausit. 
 
 qui Defensor Fidei meritissimus audis, 
 Responde aeternum titulo ; quoque ordine felix 
 Coepisti, pergas simili res texere filo. 
 Obrue ferventes, ruptis conatibus, hostes ; 
 Quasque habet aut patulas aut caeco tramite, moles 
 Haeresis, evertas. Quid enim te fallere possit ? 
 Tu venas laticesque omnes quos sacra recludit 
 Pagina gustasti, mrJtoque interprete gaudes ; 
 Tu Synodosque Patresque et quod dedit alta vetustas 
 Haud per te moritura, Scholamque introspicis omnem. 
 Nee transire licet quo mentis acumine findis 
 Viscera naturae, commistusque omnibus astris 
 Ante tuum tempus coelum gratissimus ambis. 
 
284 Pro Disciplina Ecdesiae Nostrae 
 
 Hao ope munitus securior excipis undas, 
 
 Quas Latii Catharique movent, atque inter utrasque 
 
 Pastor agis proprios, medio tutissimus, agnos. 
 
 Perge, deeus Regum ; sic, Augustissime, plurea 
 Sint tibi vel stellis laudes et laudibus anni ; 
 Sic pulaare tuas, exclusis luctibus, ausint 
 Gaudia sola fores ; sic quicquid somnia mentis 
 Intus agunt, habeat certum meditatio finem ; 
 Sic positis nugis, quibus irretita libido 
 Innumeros mergit vitiata mente poetas. 
 Sola Jacobaeum decantent carmuia nomen. 
 
 XLin 
 
 Ad Deoti 
 
 QiTEM tu, summe Deus, semel 
 Scribentem placido rore beaveris, 
 
 Ilium non labor irritus • 
 Exercet miserum ; non dolor unguium 
 
 Morsus increpat anxios ; 
 Non maeret calamus ; non queritur caput : 
 
 Sed fecunda poesecos 
 Vis, et vena sacris regnat in artubus ; 
 
 Qualis nescius aggerum 
 Exundat fluvio Nilus amabili. 
 
 duleissime spiritus 
 Sanctos, qui gemitus mentibus inseris 
 
 A te turture defluos, 
 Quod scribe, et placeo, si placeo, tuum est. 
 
ALIA POEMATA LATINA 
 
ALIA POEMATA LATINA 
 
 Ad Aitotoeem Instattbationis Magnae [Fkanciscum 
 Bacon] 
 
 Pbb strages licet auctorum veterumque ruinam 
 
 Ad famae properes vera tropaea tuae. 
 Tarn nitide tamen occidis, tain suaviter hostes, 
 
 Se quasi donatum funere quisque putat. 
 Scilicet apponit pretium tua dextera fato, 
 
 Vulnereque emanat sanguis, ut intret honos. 
 quam felices sunt, qui tua castra sequuntur. 
 
 Cum per te sit res ambitiosa mori ! 
 
 In honoeem illustrissimi Domini Feancisci de 
 Verulamio, Vice-Comitis Sti Albani 
 
 Post editam ab eo Instant. Magnam 
 
 Qtns iste tandem ? non enim vultu ambulat 
 Quotidiano. Nescis, ignare ? audies. 
 Dux Notionum ; Veritatis Pontifex ; 
 Inductionis Dominus et Verulamii ; 
 Rerum Magister Unicus, at non Artium ; 
 Profunditatis Pinus atque Elegantiae ; 
 Naturae Aruspex intimus ; Philosophiae 
 Aerarium ; Sequester Experientiae 
 Speculationisque ; Aequitatis Signifer ; 
 Scientiarum sub pupillari statu 
 Degentium olim Emancipator ; Lu minis 
 Promus ; Eugator Idolum atque Nubium ; 
 
288 Alia Poemata Latina 
 
 Collega Solis ; Quadra Certitudinis ; 
 Sophismatum Mastix ; Brutus Literarius, 
 Authoritatis exuens Tyrannidem ; 
 Rationis et Sensus Stupendus Arbiter ; 
 Repumicator mentis ; Atlas Physicus, 
 Alcide succumbente Stagiritico ; 
 Columba Noae, quae in vetustate Artibus 
 Nullum locum requiemque cernens, praestitit 
 Ad se suamque matris, arcam regredi ; 
 SubtJlitatis terebra ; Temporis nepos 
 Ex Veritate matre ; mellis alveus ; 
 Mundique et animarum Sacerdos unicus ; 
 Securisque errorum ; inque naturalibus 
 Granum sinapis, acre aliis, crescens sibi ; 
 me prope lassum ! Juvate Posteri. 
 
 GEOB. HEKBEET, 
 Orat. Pub. in Academ. Cantab. 
 
 m 
 
 COMPAEATIO INTER MuHTTS SuMMI CaNCELLAEIATUS 
 ET LlBKUM 
 
 MuNEEE dum nobis prodes, libroque futuris, 
 In laudes abeunt saecula quaeque tuas ; 
 
 Munere dum nobis prodes, libroque remotis. 
 In laudes abeunt jam loca quaeque tuas : 
 
 Hae tibi sunt alae laudum. Cui contigit unquam 
 Longius aeterno, latius orbe decus i 
 
 IV 
 
 Aethiopissa ambit Cestdm diveesi coloeis VmuM 
 
 Quid mihi si facies nigra est ? hoc, Ceste, colore 
 Sunt etiam tenebrae, quas tamen optat amor. 
 
Alia Poemata Latina 289 
 
 Cernis ut exusta semper sit fronte viator ; 
 
 Ah longum, quae te deperit, errat iter. 
 Si nigro sit terra solo, quis despicit arvum ? 
 
 Claude oculos, et enint omnia nigra tibi : 
 Aut aperi, et cernes corpus quas projioit umbras ; 
 
 Hoc saltern officio fungar amore tui. 
 Cum mihi sit faoies fumus, quas pectore flammas 
 
 Jamdudum tacite delituisse putes ? 
 Dure, negas ? fata mihi praesaga doloris. 
 
 Quae mihi lugubres contribuere genas ! 
 
 In Obitum incompababilis Vice-Comitis Sancti 
 Albani, Baeonis Vbettlamii 
 
 DuM longi lentique gemis sub pondere morbi, 
 Atque haeret dubio tabida vita pede, 
 
 Quid voluit prudens fatum, jam sentio tandem : 
 Constat, Aprile uno te potuisse mori : 
 
 Ut flos hinc lacrymis, illinc Philomela querelis, 
 Deducant linguae funera sola tuae. 
 
 VI 
 
 In Natales et Pascha concuerbntes 
 
 Cum tu, Christe, cadis, nascor ; mentemque ligavit 
 
 Una meam membris horula, teque cruci. 
 me disparibus natum cum numine f atis ! 
 
 Cur mihi das vitam, quam tibi, Christe, negas 1 
 Quin moriar tecum : vitam, quam negligis ipse, 
 
 Acoipe ; ni talem des, tibi qualis erat. 
 Hoc mihi legatum tristi si funere praestes, 
 
 Christe, duplex fiet mors tua vita mihi : 
 Atque ibi per te sanctificer natalibus ipsis. 
 
 In vitam, et nervos Pascha coaeva fluet. 
 
 HERBERT U 
 
290 Alia Poemata Latina 
 
 VII 
 
 Ad Johannem Donne, D.D. 
 
 He uno Sigillorum ejus, Anchora et Christo 
 
 Quod crux nequibat fixa, clavique additi — 
 Tenere Christum scilicet, ne ascenderet — 
 Tuive Christum devocans facundia 
 Ultra loquendi tempus ; addit Anchora : 
 Nee hoc abunde est tibi, nisi certae anchorae 
 Addas Sigillum ; nempe symbolum suae 
 Tibi debet unda et terra certitudinis. 
 
 Quondam fessus Amor, loquens amato. 
 Tot et tanta loquens arnica, scripsit : 
 Tandem et fessa manus dedit Sigillum. 
 
 Suavis erat, qui scripta, dolens, lacerando recludi, 
 Sanctius in regno magni credebat Amoris, 
 Id quo fas nihil est rumpi, donare Sigillum ! 
 
 Munde, fluas fugiasque licet, nos nostraque fixi ; 
 
 Deridet motus eancta catena tuos. 
 
 The sajie in English 
 Although the Cross could not Christ here detain, 
 Though nail'd unto 't, but He ascends again, 
 Nor yet thy eloquence here keep Him still. 
 But only while thou speakst, this Anchor wiU. 
 Nor canst thou be content, unless thou to 
 This certain Anchor add a Seal ; and so 
 The water and the eaith both unto thee 
 Do owe the symbole of their certainty. 
 
 When Love, being weary, made an end 
 Of kind expressions to his friend. 
 He wi-it ; when 'e hand could write no more, 
 He gave the Seal, and so left ore. 
 
Alia Poemata Latina 291 
 
 How sweet a friend was he, who, being griev'd 
 His letters were broke rudely up, believ'd 
 'Twas more secure in great Love's commonweal, 
 Where nothing should be broke, to add a Seal ! 
 Let the world reel, we and aU ours stand sure ; 
 This holy cable 's of all storms secure. 
 
 On the Anchob-Seal 
 
 When my dear friend could write no more, 
 He gave this Seal, and so gave ore. 
 When winds and waves rise highest, I am sure. 
 This Anchor keeps my faith, that, me secure. 
 
 vni 
 
 Cum petit Infantem Princeps, Grantamque Jacobus, 
 Quisnam horum major sit, dubitatur, amor 
 
 Vincit more suo Noster : nam millibus, Infans 
 Non tot abest, quot nos Regis ab ingenio. 
 
 In Obitum sbeenissimae Reginae Annae 
 
 (E Lacrymis Cantabrigiensibus) 
 
 Quo te, felix Anna, modo deflere lioebit ? 
 
 Cui magnum imperium, gloria major erat : 
 Ecce meus torpens animus succumbit utrique, 
 
 Cui tenuis fama est, ingeniumque minus. 
 Quis, nisi qui manibus Briareus, oculisque sit Argus, 
 
 Scribere te dignum vel lacrymare queat ? 
 Frustra igitur sudo ; superest mihi sola voluptas, 
 
 Quod calamum excusent Pontus et Astra meum : 
 Namque Annae laudes coelo scribuntur aperto, 
 
 Sed luctus noster scribitur Oceano. 
 u2 
 
292 Alia Poemata Latina 
 
 In Obitum Heneici Peincipis Walliab 
 
 (Ex Epicedivm Cantabiigiense, In Obitum immatuium, sempeiq. 
 deflendum Henrici, &c. 1612) 
 
 Ite, leues, inquam, Parnassia numina, Musae ; 
 Non ego vos posthac, hederae velatus amictu, 
 Somnis nescio quels nocturna ad vota vocabo : 
 Sed nee Cyrrhaei saltus Libethxiaue arua 
 In mea dicta ruant ; non tarn mihi pendula mens est, 
 Sic quasi diis certem, magnos accersere montes ; 
 Nee vaga de summo deducam flumina monte, 
 Qualia parturiente colunt sub rupe sorores : 
 Si quas mens agitet moles, dum pectora saeuo 
 Tota stupent luctu, lacrymisque exaestuet acquis 
 Spiritus, hi mihi jam montes, haec flumina sunto : 
 Musa, vale ; et tu, Phoebe, dolor mea carmina dictet ; 
 Hinc mihi principium : vos, o labentia mentis 
 Lumina, nutantes paulatim acquirite vires, 
 Viuite, dum mortem ostendam : sic tempera vestram 
 Non comedant famam, sic nulla obliuia potent. 
 Quare age, mens ; effare, precor, quo numine laeso 1 
 Quae suberant causae ? quid nos committere tantum. 
 Quod non lanigerae peeudes, non agmina lustrent ? 
 Annon longa fames miseraeque injuria pestis 
 Poena minor fuerat, quam fatum Principis aegrum ? 
 lam fehx Philomela et menti conscia Dido ; 
 Felices quos bella premunt et plurimus ensis ; 
 Non metuunt ultra ; nostra inf ortunia tantum 
 Fataque fortunasque et spem laesere futuram. 
 Quod si fata illi longam invidere salutem, 
 Et patrio regno, sub quo jam Principe nobis 
 Quid sperare, immo quid non sperare licebat ? 
 
Alia Poemata Latina 293 
 
 Debuit ista pati prima et non nobilis aetas : 
 Aut cita mors est danda bonis aut longa senectus 
 Sic laetare animos et sic ostendere gemmam 
 Ezcitat optatus auidos, et ventilat ignem. 
 Quare etiam nuper Pyrii de pulveris ictu 
 Principis innocuam servastis numina vitam, 
 Ut morbi perimant, alioque in pulvere prostet. 
 Phoebe, tui puduit, quum summo mane redires, 
 Sol sine sole tuo ! quum te turn nubibus atris 
 Totum offuscari peteres, ut nocte sUenti 
 Humana aeternos agerent praecordia questus, 
 Tantum etenim vestras, Parcae, non flectit habenas. 
 Tempus edax rerum, tuque, o mors, improba sola es, 
 Cui caecas tribuit vires annosa vetustas. 
 Quid non mutatum est ? requierunt flumina cursus ; 
 Plus etiam veteres coelum videre remotum : 
 Cur ideo verbis tristes effundere curas 
 Expeto, tanquam haeo sic nostri medicina doloris ? 
 Immodicus luctus tacito vorat igne medullas, 
 Ut fluuio currente, vadum sonat, alta quiescunt. 
 
 XI 
 
 Innupta Pallas, nata Diespatre, 
 Aeterna summae gloria regiae ; 
 Cui dulcis arrident Camoenae 
 Pieridis Latiaeque Musae. 
 
 Cur tela mortis, vel tibi vel tuis 
 Quacunque gutta temporis imminent ? 
 Tantaque propendet statera 
 Pi.egula sanguinolenta fati ? 
 
294 Alia Poemata Latina 
 
 Numne Hydra talis tantaque bellua est 
 Mors tot virorum sordida sanguine, 
 Ut mucro rumpatur Minervae, 
 
 Utque minax superetur iEgis ? 
 
 Tu flectis amnes, tu mare caerulum 
 Ussisse prono fulmine diceris, 
 Ajacis exesas triremes 
 
 Praecipitans graviore casu. 
 
 Tu discidisti Gorgoneas manus 
 Nexas, capillos anguibus oblitos, 
 Furvosque vicisti Gigantes 
 
 Enceladum, pharetramque Rhaeci. 
 
 Ceu viota, Musis porrigit herbulas 
 Pennata caeci dextra Cupidinis, 
 Non ulla Bellonae furentis 
 
 Arma tui metuunt alumni. 
 
 PaUas retortis caesia vocibus 
 Respondit : Eia ! ne metuas, precor, 
 Nam fata non justis repugnant 
 Principibus, sed arnica fiunt. 
 
 Dt si recisis arboribus meis 
 Nudetur illic lucus amabiUs, 
 
 Fructusque post mortem reeusent 
 Perpetuos mihi ferre rami. 
 
 Dulcem rependent tum mihi tibiam 
 
 Pulchre renatam ex arbore mortua, 
 
 Dignamque coelesti corona 
 
 Harmoniam dabit inter aatra. 
 
PASSIO DISCERPTA. LUCUS 
 
PASSIO DISCERPTA 
 
 I 
 
 Ad Dominum moeientem 
 
 Cum lacrymas oculosque duos tot vulnera vincant, 
 Impar, et in fletum vel resolutus, ero ; 
 
 Sepia concurrat, peccatis aptior humor, 
 Et mea jam lacrymet culpa colore suo. 
 
 II 
 
 In StTDOKEM SANGUINEUM 
 
 Quo fugies, sudor ? quamvis pars altera Christi, 
 Nescia sit metae, venula cella tua est. 
 
 Si tibi non illud placeat mirabile corpus, 
 Caetera displiceat turba, necesse, tibi : 
 
 Ni me forte petas ; nam quanto indignior ipse, 
 Tu mihi subveniens dignior esse potes. 
 
 in 
 
 In eundbm 
 
 Sic tuus effundi gestit pro crimine sanguis, 
 Ut nequeat paulo se cohibere domi. 
 
 IV 
 
 In LATUS PERFOSStTM 
 
 Cheiste, ubi tam duro patet in te semita ferro, 
 Spero meo cordi posse patere viam. 
 
298 Passio Discerpia 
 
 In Sputum et Convicia 
 
 BARBAROS ! sic OS rependitis sanctum, 
 Visum quod uni praebet, omnibus vitam, 
 Sputando, praedicando ? sic Aquas Vitae 
 Contaminatis alveosque caelestes 
 Sputando, blasphemando 1 nempe ne hoc fiat 
 In posterum, maledicta Ficus, arescens 
 Gens tota fiet, atque utrinque plectetur. 
 Parate situlas, Ethnici, lagenasque 
 Graves lagenas, vester est Aquae-ductus. 
 
 VI 
 
 In Cokonam spineaii 
 
 Chbiste, dolor tibi supplicio, mihi blanda voluptas ; 
 
 Tu spina misere pungeris, ipse rosa. 
 Spicula mutemus : capias Tu serta rosarum, 
 
 Qui Caput es, spinas et tua membra tuas. 
 
 vir 
 In Aeund., Spin., Genufl., Pukpue. 
 
 QUAM nihil illudis, Gens improba ! quam male cedunt 
 
 Seommata ! Pastorem semper Arundo decet. 
 Quam nihil illudis ! cum quo magis angar acuto 
 
 Munere, Rex tanto verior inde prober. 
 Quam niliil illudis flectens ! namque Integra posthac 
 
 Posteritas flectet corque genuque mihi. 
 Quam nihil illudis ! Si, quae tua purpura fingit, 
 
 Purpureo melius sanguine regna probem : 
 At non lusus erit, si quern tu laeta necasti 
 
 Vivat, et in mortem vita sit ilia tuam. 
 
Passio Discerpia 299 
 
 VIII 
 
 In Alapas 
 
 Ah, quam caederis hinc et inde palmis ! 
 Sic unguenta solent manu fricari ; 
 Sic toti medicaris ipse mundo. 
 
 IX 
 
 In Flagellttm 
 
 Cheistb, flagellati spes et victoria mundi, 
 Crimina cum turgent, et mea poena prope est : 
 
 Suaviter admoveas notum tibi carne flagellum, 
 Sufficiat virgae saepius umbra tuae. 
 
 Mitis agas : tenerae duplieant sibi verbera mentes, 
 Ipsaque sunt ferulae moUia eorda suae. 
 
 X 
 
 In VESTES DIVISA3 
 
 Si, Christe, dum suffigeris, tuae vestes 
 Sunt hostium legata, non amicorum, 
 Ut postulat mos ; quid tuis dabis ? Teipsum, 
 
 XI 
 
 In pium Latkonem 
 
 NiMiuM Latro ! reliquis furatus abunde, 
 Nunc etiam Christum callidus aggrederis. 
 
300 Passio Discerpta 
 
 xn 
 
 In Christum Cbucbm ascensubum 
 
 Zacchaetjs, ut te cernat, arborem scandet; 
 Nunc ipse soandis, ut, labore mutato, 
 Nobis facilitas cedat, et tibi sudor. 
 Sic omnibus videris ad modum visus : 
 Fides gigantem sola vel facit nanum. 
 
 xni 
 
 Chkistus Dsr Ceuce 
 
 Hic, ubi sanati stiUant opobalsama mundi, 
 Advolvor madidae laetus hiansque Cruci : 
 
 Pro lapsu stiUarum abeunt peccata ; nee acres 
 Sanguinis insultus exanimata ferunt. 
 
 Christe, fluas semper ; ne, si tua flumina cessent, 
 Culpa redux jugem te neget esse Deum. 
 
 XIV 
 
 In Clavos 
 
 QuAiiis eras, qui, ne melior natura minorem 
 
 Eriperet nobis, in Cruce fixus eras, 
 Jam meus es : nunc Te teneo : Pastorque prehensus 
 
 Hoc ligno, his clavis est, quasi falce sua. 
 
 XV 
 
 Inclinato capite. John xix. 30. 
 
 VuLPiBtrs antra feris, nidique volucribus adsunt. 
 
 Quodque suum novit stroma, cubile suum. 
 Qui tamen excipiat, Christus caret hospite; tantum 
 
 In cruce suspendens, unde reclinet, habet. 
 
Fassio Discerpta 301 
 
 XVI 
 
 Ad Solem depicibntem 
 
 Quid hoc 1 et ipse deficis, coeli gigas, 
 
 Almi choragus luminis ? 
 Tu promis orbem mane, condis vesperi, 
 
 Mundi fidelis claviger. 
 At nunc fatiscis, nempe Dominus aedium 
 
 Prodegit integrum penu. 
 Quamque ipse lucis tesseram sibi negat, 
 
 Negat familiae [jam] suae. 
 Carere discat verna, quo summus caret 
 
 Paterfamilias lumine. 
 Tu vero mentem neutiquam despondeas, 
 
 Resurget occumbens Herus : 
 Tunc instruetur lautius radiis penu, 
 
 Tibi supererunt et mihi. 
 
 XVII 
 
 MONUMENTA APEETA 
 
 DuM moreris, mea Vita, ipsi vixere sepulti, 
 
 Proque uno vincto turba soluta fuit. 
 Tu tamen, baud tibi tarn moreris, quam vivis 
 illis, 
 
 Asserit et vitam Mors animata tuam. 
 Scilicet in tumulis Crucifixum quaerite, vivit : 
 
 Convincunt unam multa sepulcra crucem. 
 Sic pro majestate Deum non perdere vitam 
 
 Quam tribuifc, verum multipUcare decet. 
 
302 Passio Biscerpta 
 
 XVIII 
 
 Terrae-motus 
 
 Te fixo, vel Terra movet ; nam cum Cruce totam 
 Circumf^rre potes, Samson ut ante fores. 
 
 Heu, stolidi ! primum fugientem figite Terram, 
 Tunc Dominus clavis aggrediendus erit. 
 
 XIX 
 
 Velum scisscm 
 
 Feustra, Verpe, tumes, propola cultus, 
 Et Templi parasite ; namque velum 
 Diffissum reserat Deum latentem 
 Et pomaeria terminosque sanctos 
 Non urbem facit unicam, sed orbem. 
 Et pro pectoribus recenset aras, 
 Dum cor omne suum sibi requirat 
 Structorem et Solomon ubique regnet 
 Nunc Arcana patent, nee involutam 
 Phylacteria complicant latriam. 
 Excessit tener Orbis ex ephebis, 
 Maturusque suos coquens amores 
 Praeflorat sibi nuptias futuras. 
 Ubique est Deus, Agnus, Ara, Flamen. 
 
 XX 
 
 Petkae scissae 
 
 Sanus homo factus, vitiorum purus uterque ; 
 
 At sibi coUisit fictile Daemon opus. 
 Post ubi Mosaicae repararent fragmina Leges, 
 
 Infectas tabulas facta juvenca scidit. 
 
Passio Discerpta 303 
 
 Uaud alitor cum Christos obit, prae funcre tanto 
 
 Constat inaccessas dissiluisse petras. 
 Omnia praeter corda sceliis confr^t et error, 
 
 Quae contrita tamen cactera damna levant. 
 
 XXI 
 
 In MrxDO Symtathiam crM Chbisto 
 
 Xox moreris solus ; Mundus simul interit in te, 
 Agnoscitque tuam Machina tota cruceni. 
 
 Huno ponas animam mimdi, Plato ; vel tua mundum 
 Ne nimium vexet quaestio, pone meam. 
 
LUCUS 
 
 I 
 
 Homo Statua 
 
 Sum, quia nescit. Imago Dei, sed saxea certe; 
 
 Hanc mihi duiitiem contulit improbitas. 
 Durescunt propriis evulsa corallia fundis, 
 
 Haud secus ingenitia dotibus orbus Adam. 
 Tu qui cuncta creans docuisti marmora flere, 
 
 Haud mihi cor saxo durius esse sinas. 
 
 n 
 Pateia 
 
 Ut tenuis flammae species caelum usque minatur, 
 Igniculos legans, manserifc ipsa, licet. 
 
 Sic mucronatam reddunt suspiria mentem, 
 Votaque sciatillae sunt animosa meae. 
 
 Assiduo stimulo camem mens ulta lacessit, 
 Sedula si fuerit, perterebrare potest. 
 
 m 
 
 In Stefhaitdm lapidatum 
 
 Qot sUicom tundit — minim tamen — elicit ignem : 
 At Caelum e saxis elicuit Stepbanus. 
 
Lucm 305 
 
 Tf 
 
 In Simonem Maqum 
 
 EcQtrtD ernes Christum ? pro nobis scilicet olim 
 
 Venditus est Agnus, non tamen emptus erit. 
 Quin nos Ipse emit, precioso fenora solvens 
 
 Sanguine, nee pretium merx emit uUa suum. 
 Ecquid emes Caelum ? quin stellam rectius unam 
 
 Quo pretio venit, fac, liceare prius. 
 Nempe gravi fertur scelerata pecunia motu. 
 
 Si sursum jacias, in caput ipse ruit. 
 Unicus est nummus caelo Christoque petitus, 
 
 Nempe in quo clare lucet Imago Dei. 
 
 V 
 
 In S. Scriptueas 
 
 Heu, quis spiritus igneusque turbo 
 Regnat visceribus, measque versat 
 Imo pectore cogitationes ? 
 Nunquid pro foribus sedendo nuper 
 Stellam vespere suxerim volantem, 
 Haec autem hospitio latere turpi 
 Prorsus nescia, cogitat recessum ? 
 Nunquid mel comedens, apem comedi 
 Ipsa cum domina domum vorando ? 
 Imo, me nee apes nee astra pungunt ; 
 Sacratissima charta, tu fuisti 
 Quae cordis latebras sinusque caecos 
 Atque omnes peragrata es angiportua 
 Et flexus fugientis appetitus. 
 Ah, quam docta perambulare callea 
 Maeandrosque plicasque quam perita es ? 
 Quae vis condidit, ipsa novit aedes. 
 
306 Imcus 
 
 VI 
 
 In Pacem BEiTAiraicAM 
 
 Anglia cur solum fuso sine sanguine sicca est, 
 
 Cum natet in tantis caetera terra malis ? 
 Sit licet in pelago semper, sine fluctibus Ula est. 
 
 Cum qui plus terrae, plus habuere maris. 
 Naufragii causa est aliis mare, roboris Anglo, 
 
 Et quae corrumpit moenia, murus aqua est. 
 Nempe hie BeUgio floret, regina quietis. 
 
 Tuque super nostras, Christe, moveris aquas. 
 
 vn 
 
 AVAKITIA 
 
 AmiUM nocte videns, vidisse insomnia dicit ; 
 
 Aurum luce videns, nuUa videre putat. 
 falsos homines ! vigUat, qui somniat aurum, 
 
 Plusque habet hie laetus, quam vel Avarua habet. 
 
 vm 
 In Lotionem Pedum Apostoloettm 
 
 SoLEM ex Oceano Veteres exsurgere fingunt 
 Postquam se gelidis nocte refecit aquis. 
 
 Verius hoc olim factum est, ubi, Christe, lavares 
 lUos, qui mundum circumiere, pedes. 
 
 IX 
 
 In D. Lucam 
 
 Cub Deus elegit Medicum, qui numine plenus 
 Divina Christi scriberet acta manu ? 
 
 Ut discat sibi quisque quid utile : nempe nocebat 
 Crudum olim pomum, tristis Adame, tibi. 
 
Lucus 307 
 
 Papae Titdlfs NEC Deus nbo Homo 
 
 QuiSNAM Antichristus cessemus quaerere ; Papa 
 Nee Dens eat nee homo : Christus uterque fuit. 
 
 XI 
 
 Tribtjti SoLuno 
 
 Piscis tributum solvit et tu Caesari. 
 
 Utrumque miruin est ; hoc tamen mirum magis. 
 
 Quod omnibus tote imperes, nemo tibi. 
 
 xn 
 
 TeMPESTAS, ChRISTO DOKSnENTE 
 
 Cum dormis, surgit pelagus : cum, Christe, resurgis, 
 Doimitat pelagus : Quam bene fraena tenes ! 
 
 xin 
 
 Bonus Crvis 
 
 Sagax Humilitas eligens viros bonos 
 Atqne evehens, bonum facit faecundius, 
 Quam si ipse solus omnia interverteret, 
 Suamque in aliis possidet prudentiam. 
 
 xrv 
 
 In Umbram Petei 
 
 Produxit umbram corpus, umbra corpori 
 Vitam reduxit : ecce gratitudinem. 
 x2 
 
308 Lucus 
 
 XV 
 
 Martha : Maria 
 
 Christus adest : crebris aedes percurrifce scopis, 
 Excutite aulaea, et luceat igne focus. 
 
 Omnia purgentur, niteat mihi tota aupellex ; 
 Parcite luminibus, sitque lucerna domus ; 
 
 cessatrices ! eccum pulvisculus illic : 
 Corde tuo forsan, caetera munda, Soror. 
 
 XVI 
 
 Amor 
 
 Quid metuant homines infra, suprave minentur 
 Sidera, pendenti sedulus aure bibis : 
 
 Utque ovis in dumis, haeres in crine Cometae, 
 Sollicitus, ne te stella perita notet : 
 
 Omnia quaerendo ; sed te, super omnia, vexas : 
 £t quid tu tandem desidiosus ? Amo. 
 
 xvn 
 
 In Superbum 
 
 Magnas es ; esto, bulla si voeaberis, 
 Largiar et istud : scilicet Magnatibua 
 Difficibs esse baud soleo : nam, pol, si forem, 
 Ipsi sibi sunt nequiter facillimi. 
 Quin mitte nugas ; teque carnem et sanguinem 
 Communem habere crede cum Cerdonibus : 
 Ilium volo, qui calceat lixam tuum. 
 
Lucks 309 
 
 XVIII 
 
 In eundem 
 
 Untjsqtjisqub hominum Terra est et filius arvi. 
 Die mihi, mons sterilis, vallis an uber eris ? 
 
 XIX 
 
 Afflictio 
 
 Quos tu calcasti fluctus, me, Christe, lacessunt 
 Transiliuntque caput, qui subiere pedes. 
 
 Christe, super fluctus si non discurrere detur, 
 Per fluctus saltern, fac, precor, ipse vader. 
 
 XX 
 
 In Kivoho^iav 
 
 Qui sugit avido spiritu rumusculos 
 Et flatulentas aucupatur glorias, 
 Felicitatis culmen extra se locat, 
 Spargitque per tot capita, quot vulgus gerit. 
 Tu vero collige te tibique insistito, 
 Breviore nodo stringe vitae sarcinas, 
 Rotundus in te : namque si ansatus sies, 
 Te mille rixae, mille prensabunt doli, 
 Ducentque donee incidentem in cassidem 
 Te mille nasi, mille rideant sinus. 
 Quare peritus nauta, vela contralias 
 Famamquc nee difflavcris nee suxeris : 
 Tuasque librans actiones, gloriam, 
 Si ducat agmen, reprime ; sin claudat, sinas, 
 Morosus oxygala est : Levis, coagulum. 
 
310 Lucm 
 
 XXI 
 
 In Guloshm 
 
 DuM prono rapis ore cibos, et fercula verris, 
 Intra extraque gravi plenus es illuvie : 
 
 Non jam ventriculus, verum spelunca vocetur 
 nia cavema, in qua tot coiere ferae. 
 
 Ipse fruare licet, solus graveolente sepulcro, 
 Te petet, ante diem quisquis obire cupit. 
 
 xxn 
 
 In Impeobum disertum 
 
 Seeictts es dictis, factis pannusia Baucis : 
 Os et lingua tibi dives, egena manus. 
 
 Ni facias, ut opes linguae per brachia serpant, 
 Aurea, pro naulo, lingua Charontis erit. 
 
 CONSOLATIO 
 
 Cub lacrymas et tarda trahis suspiria, tanquam 
 
 Nunc primum socii mors foret atra tui ? 
 Nos autem a cunis omnes sententia Mortis 
 
 Quotidie jugulat, nee semel uUus obit. 
 Vivimus in praesens : hesternam vivere vitam 
 
 Nemo potest : hodie vita sepulta prior. 
 Trecentos obiit Nestor, non transiit annos, 
 
 Vel quia tot moritur, tot viguisse probes. 
 Dum lacrymas, it vita : tuus tibi clepsydra fletus, 
 
 Et uumerat mortes singula gutta pares. 
 
Lucus 311 
 
 Frustra itaque in tot funeribus miraberis unum, 
 Sera nimis lacryma haec, si lacrymabis, erit. 
 
 Sistetuumfletumetgemitus : namqueimbribusistis 
 Ac zephyris, carnis flos remeare nequit. 
 
 Nee tu pro socio doleas, qui fugit ad illud 
 Culmen, ubi pro te nemo dolere potest. 
 
 XXIV 
 
 In Angelos 
 
 Intbllectus adultus Angelorum, 
 Haud nostro similis, cui necesse 
 Ut dentur species, rogare sensum : 
 Et ni lumina januam resignent, 
 Et nostrae tribuant molae farinam, 
 Saepe ex se nihil otiosa cudit. 
 A nobis etenim procul remoti 
 Labuntur fluvii scientiarum : 
 Si non per species, nequimus ipsi, 
 Quid ipsi sumus, assequi putando. 
 Non tantum est iter Angelis ad undas, 
 Nullo circuitu scienda pungunt : 
 Illis perpetuae patent fenestrae, 
 Se per se facili modo soientes, 
 Atque ipsi sibi sunt mola et farina. 
 
 XXV 
 
 j Oeam. Mabo. 
 
 Roma : Anage. I Ramo. Aemo. 
 
 1 MoEA. Amoe. 
 
 Roma, tuum nomen, quam non pertransiit oeam. 
 Cum Latium ferrent saecula prisca jugum ? 
 
312 
 
 Non deerat vel fama tibi vel carmina famae, 
 
 Unde Mabo laudes duxit ad astra tuas. 
 At nunc exsucco similis tua gloria ramo 
 
 A veteri trunco et nobilitate cadit. 
 Laus antiqua et honor periit : quasi scilicet abmo 
 
 Te dejecissent tempora longa suo. 
 Quin tibi tarn desperatae mora nulla medetur, 
 
 Qua Fabio quondam sub duce nata salus. 
 Hinc te olim gentes miratae odere vicissim, 
 
 Et cum eublata laude recedit amok. 
 
 XXVI 
 
 Urbani VIII Pont. Respons. 
 
 Cum Romam nequeas, quod aves, evertere, nomea 
 Invertis, mores carpis et obloqueris. 
 
 Te Germana tamen pubes, te Graecus et Anglus 
 Ai'guit, exceptos ; quos pia Roma f ovet. 
 
 Hostibus haec etiam parcens imitatur Jesum : 
 luvertis nomen, Quid tibi dicit ? Amor. 
 
 xxvn 
 Rbspons. ad Urb. VIII 
 
 Non placet Urbanus noster de nomine lusus 
 Romano ; sed res seria Roma tibi est : 
 
 Nempe Caput Romae es, cujus mysteria velles 
 Esse jocum soli, plobe stupente, tibi. 
 
 Attamen Urbani delecto nomine, constat 
 Quam satur et suavis sit tibi Roma jocus. 
 
Luciis 313 
 
 XXVIII 
 
 Ad Uebanum VIII Pont. 
 
 PONTIFICEM tandem nacta est sibi Roma poetam 
 Res redit ad vates Pierioaque duces. 
 
 Quod Bellarminus nequiit, fortasse poetae 
 Suaviter eflficient, absque rigore Scholae. 
 
 Cedito barbaiies :- Helicon jam litibus instat, 
 Squaloremque togae Candida Musa fugat. 
 
 XXIX 
 AoyiK^ 6v<ria 
 
 Abakumque hominumque ortum si mcnte pererres, 
 Cespes vivus, Homo : mortuus, Ara fuit. 
 
 Quae divisa nocent, Christi per foedus in unum 
 Couveniunfc ; et Homo viva fit Ara Dei. 
 
 XXX 
 
 In Thomam Didymum 
 
 DuM te vel digitis minister urget, 
 Et lioc judicium jubes, Redemptor ; 
 Nempe es totus amor, medulla amoris, 
 Qui epissae fidei brevique menti 
 Paras liospitium torumque dulcem, 
 Quo se condat, et implicet volutans 
 Ceu fida statione ct arce certa, 
 Ne perdat Leo rugiens vagantcm. 
 
314 Lucus 
 
 XXXI 
 
 In Solabidm 
 
 CoNJUGiUM Caeli Terraeque haec macliina praestat; 
 
 Debetur caelo lumen, et umbra solo. 
 Sic Hominis moles animaque et corpore constat, 
 
 Cujus ab oppositis fluxit origo locis. 
 Contemplare, miser, quantum terroris haberet, 
 
 Vel sine luce solum, vel sine mente caro. 
 
 sxxn 
 
 Teiumphus Mortis 
 
 O MBA suspicienda manus venterque perennis, 
 Quern non EmatMus torrens, non sanguine pinguis 
 Daimia, non satiat bis ter miUesima caedis 
 Progenies, mundique aetas abdomine nostro 
 Ingluvieque minor. Quercus habitare feruntur 
 Prisci, crescentesque una cum prole cavemas. 
 Nee tamen excludor : namque una ex arbore vitam 
 Glans dedit, et tnmcus tectum, et ramaUa mortem. 
 
 Confluere interea passim ad Floralia pubes 
 Coeperat, agiicolis mentemque et aratra solutis : 
 Compita fervescunt pedibus, clamoribus aether. 
 Hie ubi discumbunt per gramina, saJsior unus 
 Omnia suspendit naso, sociosque lacessit : 
 Non fert Ucalegon, atque amentata retorquet 
 Dicta ferox : haerent lateri convitia fixo. 
 Scinditur in partes vulgus, ceu compita ; telum 
 Ira facit, mundusque ipse est apotheca furoris. 
 Liber alit rixas ; potantibus omnia bina 
 Sunt praeter vitam : saxis hie sternitur, alter 
 Ambustis sudibus : pars vitam in pocula fundunt. 
 
Imcus 315 
 
 In patinas alii : fxirit inconstantia vini 
 
 Sanguine, quern dederat spoliane. Primordia Mortis 
 
 Haec fuerant : sic Tisiphone virguncula lusit. 
 
 Non placuit rudis atque ignara occisio : Morti 
 Quaeritnr ingenium, doctusque homicida probatur 
 Hinc tirocinium parvoque assueta juventus, 
 Fictaque Bellona et verae ludibiia pugnae, 
 Instractaeque acies, Memesque in pellibus actae, 
 Omniaque haec nt transadigant sine crimine costas, 
 Artificesque necis clueant et mortis alumni, 
 N^empe et millenos ad palum interficit hostes 
 Assiduus tiro, si sit spectanda voluntas. 
 Heu, miseri ! quis tantum ipsis virtutibus instat 
 Quantum caedi ? adeon' unam vos pascere vitam, 
 Perdere sexcentas ? crescit tamen hydra nocendi 
 Tristis, ubi ac ferrum tellure reciditur una 
 Fecundusque chalybs sceleris, jam sanguine tinotus 
 Expleri nequit et totum depascitur orbem. 
 Quid memorem tormenta quibus prius horruit aevum 
 BaUistasque onagrosque, et quicquid scorpio saevus 
 Vel catapulta potest, Siculique inventa magistri, 
 Anglorumque arcus gaudentes sanguine Galli, 
 Fustibalos fundasque, quibus, cum Numine, fretus 
 Stravit Idumaeum divinus Tityrus hostem ? 
 Adde etiam currus, et cum temone Britanno 
 Arviragum, falcesque obstantia quaeque metentes 
 Quin Aries ruit, et multa Demetrius arte 
 Sic oUm cecidere. 
 
 Deerat adhuc vitiis hominum dignissima mundo 
 Machina, quam nullum satis execrabitur aevum, 
 Liquitur ardenti candens fornace metallum 
 Fusaque decurrit notis aqua ferrea sulcis : 
 Exoritur tubus atque instar Cyclopis Homed 
 Lusoum prodigium medioque foramine gaudens. 
 
316 Lucus 
 
 Inde rotae atque axes subeunt, quasi sella curulis. 
 Qua Mors ipsa sedens, hominum de gente triumphat. 
 Accedit pyrius pulvis, laquearibus Orci 
 Erutus, infernae pretiosa tragemata mensae 
 Sulphureoque laou, totaque imbuta mephiti. 
 Huic glans adjicitur — ^non quam ructare vetustas 
 Creditur, ante satas, prono cum numine fruges — 
 Plumbea glans, livensque suae quasi conscia noxae. 
 Purpureas lictor Plutonis, epistola Fati 
 Plumbis obsignata, colosque et stamina vitae 
 Perrumpens Atropi vetulae marcentibus ulnis. 
 
 Haec ubi juncta, subit vivo cum fune minister, 
 Fatalemque levans dextram, qua stuppeus ignis 
 Mulcetur vento, accendit cum fomite partem 
 Pulveris inferni properat, datus ignis, et omnem 
 Materiam vexat : nee jam se continet antro 
 Tisiphone ; flamma et faUaci f ulmine cincta 
 Evolat, horrendumque ciet bacchata fragorem. 
 It stridor, caelosque omnes et Tartara findit. 
 Non jam exaudiri quicquam, vel musica caeli, 
 Vel gemitus Erebi : piceo se turbine volvens 
 Totamque eructans nubem, glans proruit imo 
 Praecipitata, cadunt urbes, formidine muri 
 Diffugiunt, fragilesque crepant coenacula mundi. 
 Strata jaoent toto millena cadavera campo 
 Uno ictu : non sic pestis, non steUa maligno 
 Afflatu perimunt : en, cymba Cocytia turbis 
 Ingemit, et defessus opem jam portitor orat. 
 Nee glans sola nocet : mortem quandoque susurrat 
 Aura volans, vitamque aer quam paverat, aufert. 
 
 Dicite, vos Furiae, qua gaudet origine monstrum. 
 Nox Aetnam, Noctemque Chaos genuere priores. 
 Aetna Cacum ignivomum dedit, hie Ixiona multis 
 Cantatuni ; deinde Ixion cum nubibus atris 
 
Lucks 317 
 
 Congrediena genuit monaohum, qui limen opacae 
 Triste colens cellae, noctuque et daemone plenum, 
 Protulit horrendum hoc primus cum pulvere monstrum. 
 Quis monachos mortem meditari et pulvere tristi 
 Versatos neget, atque humiles, quels talia cordi 
 Jam demissa, ipsamque adeo subeuntia terram ? 
 
 Nee tamen hie noster stetit impetus : exilit omni 
 Tormento pejor Jesuita et fulminat orbem, 
 Eidens bombardas miseras, quae corpora perdunt 
 Non animas, raroque ornantur sanguine regum, 
 Obstreperae stulto sonitu crimenque fatentes. 
 
 Imperii hie culmen figo ; mortalibus actum est 
 Corporeque atque animo. Totus mihi serviat orbis. 
 
 xxxni 
 
 Tbiumphus Christian; in Mortem 
 
 Ain' vero ? quanta praedicas ? hercle adepol, 
 
 Magnificus es screator, homicida inclytus. 
 
 Quid ipse faciam ? qui nee arboreas sudes 
 
 In te, nee arcus scorpionesve aut rotas 
 
 GladioBve, catapultasve teneam, quin neque 
 
 Alopas nee arietes ? Quid ergo ? Agnum et Crucem 
 
 XXXIV 
 
 In JoHANNEM i-mxTrriBmv 
 
 Ah nunc, helluo, fac ut ipse sugam : 
 Num totum tibi pectus imputabis ? 
 Fontem intercipis omnibus patentem ? 
 Quin pro me quoque sanguinem profudit, 
 Et jus pectoris inde consecutus 
 
318 Lucus 
 
 Lac cum sanguine posco devolutum ; 
 Ut, si gratia tanta copuletur 
 Peccati veniae mei, vel ipsos 
 Occumbens humero Thronos lacessam. 
 
 XXXV 
 
 Ad DoMmuM 
 
 Cheiste, decus, dulcedo, et centum cireiter Hyblae, 
 
 Cordis apex, animae pugnaque paxque meae : 
 Quin sine, te cernam ; quoties jam dixero, cernam ; 
 
 Immoriarque oculis, O mea vita, tuis. 
 Si licet, inmioriar : vel si tua visio vita est. 
 
 Cur sine te, votis immoriturus, ago 1 
 Ah, cernam ; Tu, qui caecos sanare solebas. 
 
 Cum te non videam, mene videre putas ? 
 Non video, certum est jurare ; aut si hoc vetuisti, 
 
 Praevenias vultu non facienda tuo. 
 
 FINIS 
 
INDEX OF FIRST LINES 
 
 A broken Altar, Lord, Thy servant reares 
 
 A wreatWd garland of deserved praise 
 
 Ah, my deare angrie Lord 
 
 Alas, poore Death 1 where is thy glorie 
 
 All after pleasures as I rid one day 
 
 Almightie Judge, how shall poore wretches brook 
 
 Almightie Lord, Who from Thy glorious throne 
 
 Although the Cross could not Christ here detain 
 
 And art thou grieved, sweet and sacred Dove 
 
 As he that sees a dark and shadie grove 
 
 As I one evening sat before my cell . 
 
 As men, for fear the starres should sleep and nod 
 
 As on a window late I cast mine eye . 
 
 Awake, sad heart, whom sorrow ever drowns 
 
 Away, despair ! my gracious Lord doth heare 
 
 Blest be the God of love .... 
 
 Blest is the man that never would 
 
 Blest Order ! which in power dost so excell 
 
 Brave rose, alas, where art thou 7 In the chair 
 
 Bright soule, of whome if any oountrey knowne 
 
 Bright spark, shot from a brighter place 
 
 Broken in pieces all asunder 
 
 Busie enquiring heart, what would'st thou know 
 
 But that Thou art my wisdome. Lord 
 
 Canst be idle ? canst thou play 
 
 C!ome away 
 
 Dome, bring thy gift. If blessings were as slow 
 Dome, Lord, my hef&d doth bum, my heart is sick 
 Dome, my Way, my Truth, my Life . 
 Dome ye hither, all whose taste . 
 Dontent thee, greedie heart 
 
 Deare friend, sit down ; the tale is long and sad 
 
320 Index of First Lines 
 
 PAoa 
 Death, thou wast once an uncouth hideous thing . . .192 
 Do not beguile my heart 147 
 
 False glozing pleasures, casks of happineese . . .172 
 Full of rebellion, I would die 45 
 
 Having been tenant long to a rich Lord 40 
 
 He that is one 213 
 
 He that is weary, let him sit 79 
 
 Heark how the birds do sing 134 
 
 Holinesse.on the head 180 
 
 How are my foes increased. Lord 221 
 
 How fresh, Lord, how sweet and clean 171 
 
 How should I praise Thee, Lord ? how should my rymes . 55 
 
 How soon doth man decay 98 
 
 How sweetly doth ' My Master ' sound ! ' My Master ! ' . .181 
 How well her name an ' Army * doth present . . . .77 
 
 I blesse Thee, Lord, because I grow ... . . 136 
 
 I cannot ope mine eyes 62 
 
 I cannot skill of these Thy wayes 96 
 
 I gave to Hope a watch of mine ; but he . . . .124 
 
 I got me flowers to straw Thy way 42 
 
 I had prepared many a flowre . . . . .43 
 
 I have consider'd it, and Snde 37 
 
 I joy, deare Mother, when I view 110 
 
 I know it is my sinne which looks Thine eares . . . .66 
 I know the wayes of Learning ; bath the head . . . .89 
 
 I made a posie while the day ran by 95 
 
 I saw the Vertues sitting hand in hand 70 
 
 I struck the board, and cry'd, ' No more 157 
 
 I threatened to observe the strict decree 147 
 
 I travell'd on, seeing the hill, where lay 146 
 
 If, as a flowre doth spread and die 57 
 
 If as the windes and waters here below 135 
 
 If ever tears did flow from eyes 216 
 
 If thou chance for to find 232 
 
 If thou dost find 232 
 
 If we could see below 182 
 
 Immortall Heat, let Thy greater flame 54 
 
 Immortal Love, author of this great frame . . . . 54 
 It cannot be : where is that mightie joy 56 
 
Index of First Lines 
 
 321 
 
 Jesu is in my heart. His sacred name 
 Joy, I did look thee up, but some bad man 
 
 Kill me not ev'ry day .... 
 King of glorie. King of peace 
 King of glorie, King of peaoe 
 
 Let all the world in ev'ry corner sing 
 
 Let forrain nations of their language boast 
 
 Let wits contest 
 
 Listen, sweet Dove, unto my song 
 
 Lord, hear me when I call on Ttee 
 
 Lord, how can man preach Thy etemall word 
 
 Lord, how couldst Thou so much appease 
 
 Lord, how I am all ague when I seek 
 
 Lord, I confesse my sin is great 
 
 Lord, I will mean and speak Thy praise 
 
 Lord, in my silence how do I despise 
 
 Lord, let the angels praise Thy name 
 
 Lord, make me coy and tender to offend . 
 
 Lord, my first-fruits present themselves to Thee 
 
 Lord, Thou art mine, and I am Thine 
 
 Lord, to my words encline Thine ear 
 
 Lord, Who oreatedst man in wealth and store 
 
 Lord, Who hast f orm'd me out of mud 
 
 Lord, with what bountie and rare clemencie 
 
 Lord, with what care hast Thou begirt us round 
 
 Lord, mth what glorie wast Thou serv'd of old , 
 
 Love bade me welcome ; yet my soul drew back 
 
 Love built a stately house, where Fortune came 
 
 Mark you the floore ? that square and speckled stone 
 
 Meeting with Time, ' Slack thing,' said I . 
 
 Money, thou bane of blisse and source of wo 
 
 My comforts drop and melt away like snow 
 
 My God, a verse is not a crown 
 
 My God, Ihear^dthisday .... 
 
 My God, I read this day .... 
 
 My God, if writings may .... 
 
 My God, where is that ancient heat towards Thee 
 
 My God, ye poore expressions of my Love . 
 
 My heart did heave, and there came forth ' God ! ' 
 
322 Index of First Lines 
 
 . . TAOS 
 
 My joy, illy Life, my Crown 174 
 
 My stock lies dead, and no increase 60 
 
 My words and thoughts do both expresse this notion . . .83 
 
 Not in rich furniture or fine aray 52 
 
 O all ye who passe by, whose eyes and minde . . . .28 
 blessed bodie, whither art Thou thrown . . . .41 
 
 O day most calm, most bright 75 
 
 dreadfull justice, what a fright and terrour . . . .146 
 
 O do not use me 83 
 
 O gratious Lord, how shall I know 211 
 
 O my chief good 39 
 
 sacred Providence, Who from end to end . . . .118 
 
 O spitefull bitter thought 160 
 
 that I could sinne once see 63 
 
 O what a cunning guest 129 
 
 who will give me tears 7 Come, all ye springs . . .169 
 who will show me those delights on high . . . .195 
 
 Of what an easie quick aocesse 103 
 
 Oh Book I infinite sweetnesse I let my heart . . . .58 
 Oh glorious spirits, who, after all your bands . . . .78 
 
 Oh King of grief — a title strange, yet true 36 
 
 Oh that I knew how all thy lights combine .... 59 
 
 Oh, what a thing is man ! how farre from power . . . 130 
 
 Passe not by . . . ■. 233 
 
 Peace, mutt'ring thoughts, and do not grudge to keep . . 68 
 
 Peace, pratler, do not lowre 106 
 
 Philosophers have measur'd mountains 38 
 
 Poore heajt, lament 136 
 
 Poore nation, whose sweet sap and juice 157 
 
 Poore silly soul, whose hope and head hes low . . . .112 
 
 Praised be the God of love 93 
 
 Prayer, the Churche's banquet. Angels' age . . . .51 
 Presse me not to take more pleasure 1S4 
 
 Bebuke me not in wrath, O Lord 224 
 
 Bise, heart. Thy Lord is risen ; sing His praise . . . • i^ 
 
 Sacred marble, safely keepe 232 
 
 Save me, my Lord, my God, because 225 
 
Index of First Lines 
 
 323 
 
 Shine on, Majestiok soule, abide 
 
 Since, Lord, to Thee . 
 
 Since my sadnesse 
 
 Sir John Danvers' earthly part . 
 
 Sorrie I am, my God, sorrie I am 
 
 Soul's joy, when Thou art gone 
 
 Sweet day, so cool, so calm, so bright 
 
 Sweet Peace, where dost thou dwell ? I humbly crave 
 
 Sweet were the days when Thou didst lodge with Lot 
 
 Sweetest of sweets, I thank you : when displeasure 
 
 Sweetest Saviour, if my soul .... 
 
 Teach me, my God and King 
 
 The BeU doth telle 
 
 The Day is spent, and hath his will on mee 
 
 The fleet astronomer can bore . 
 
 The God of love my Shepherd is 
 
 The harbingers are come : see, see their mark 
 
 The merrie World did on a day . 
 
 The shepherds sing ; and shall I silent be . 
 
 Thou art too hard for me in Love 
 
 Thou that hast giv'n so much to me . 
 
 Thou who condenmest Jewish hate 
 
 Thou who dost dwell and linger here below 
 
 Thou whom the former precepts have 
 
 Thou whose sweet youth and early hopes inhance 
 
 Throw away Thy rod 
 
 To Father, Son, and Holy Ghost 
 
 To write a verse or two is all the praise 
 
 Welcome, deare feast of Lent ! who loves not thee 
 
 Welcome, sweet and sacred cheer 
 
 What doth this noise of thoughts within my heart 
 
 What is this strange and uncouth thing 
 
 When blessed Marie wip'd her Saviour's feet 
 
 When first my lines of beav'nly joyes made mention 
 
 When first Thou .didst entice to Thee my heart . 
 
 When first Thy sweet and gracious eye 
 
 When God at first made man .... 
 
 When my dear friend could write no more 
 
 When my devotions could not pierce . 
 
 While that my soul repairs to her devotion 
 
 Y 2 
 
}24 
 
 Index of First Lines 
 
 PAOI 
 
 Whither away. Delight 159 
 
 Whither, O whither art Thou fled 167 
 
 Who is the honest man 72 
 
 Who reade a chapter when they rise 96 
 
 Who says that fictions onely and false hair . . . .57 
 
 Why are the heathen swell'd with rage 220 
 
 Why do I languish thns, drooping and dull . . . .117 
 
 With sick and famisht eyes 153 
 
 Wounded I sing, tormented I indite 164 
 
 Ton who admire yourselves because 233 
 
 LATIN AND GEEEK POEMS 
 
 Ah Mater, quo te deplorem f onte ? Dolores 
 
 Ah nunc, helluo, fac ut ipse sngam 
 
 Ah, quam caederis hinc et inde palmis 
 
 Ain' vero ? quanta praedicas ? hercle adepol 
 
 Ambitio Cathari quinque constat actibus . 
 
 Anglia cur solum fuse sine sanguine sicca est 
 
 Ararumqne hominumque ortum si mente perenes 
 
 Articnlis saciis qnidam snbscribere juasus . 
 
 Atqui te precor unice per ipsam 
 
 Aurum nocte videns, yidisse insomnia dicit 
 
 Calumniamm nee pudor quis nee modus 
 Cantus sacros, profane, mugitns Tocas 
 Christe, decus, dnlcedo, et centum circiter Hyblae 
 C!briste, dolor tibi snppUcio, nuhi blanda Toluptas 
 Christe, flagellati spes et victoria mimdi 
 Christe, ubi tarn duro patet in te semita ferro 
 Christus adest : crebris aedes percnrrite scopis . 
 daudis avaritia satyram, statoisque sacromm . 
 Conjugium CaeU Tenaeque haec machina praestat 
 Comeliae sanctae, graves Semproniae 
 Com dormis, surgit pelagns : cum, Christe, resurgis 
 Cum lacrymas oculosque duos tot vulnera vincant 
 Cum millena tuam pulsare negotia mentem 
 Cum petit Infantem Princeps, Grantamque Jacobus 
 Cum piscatores Testor legit esse vocatos . 
 Cum primum ratibus suia ..... 
 Cum Bomam neqneas, quod aves, evertere, nomen 
 
 241 
 
 317 
 299 
 317 
 278 
 306 
 313 
 269 
 281 
 
 . 278 
 . 275 
 . 318 
 . 298 
 . ^9 
 . 297 
 . 308 
 . 280 
 . 314 
 . 241 
 . 307 
 . 297 
 . 264 
 . 291 
 . 272 
 . 275 
 312 
 
Index of First Lines 
 
 325 
 
 Cum templis effare, madent sudaria, mappae 
 Cum tener ad sacros infans sifitatur aqualea 
 Cum tu, Christe, cadis, nascor ; mentemque ligavit 
 Cur Deus elegit Medioum, qui numine plenua 
 Cur efficaci, Deucalion, manu .... 
 Cur lacTymas et tarda trahis suspiria, tanquam . 
 Cur Latiam linguam reris nimis esse profanam . 
 Cur splendes, o Phoebe ? ecquid demittere matrem 
 Cur tanta sufflas probra in innocuam crucem 
 Cur, ubi tot ludat numeris antiqua poesis . 
 
 Dum librata suis haeret radicibus ilex 
 Dum longi lentique gemis sub pondere morbi 
 Dum moreris, mea Vita, ipsi vixere sepulti 
 Dum prono rapis ore cibos, et fereula verris 
 Dum te vel digitia minister urget 
 
 Ecce pererratas, regum doctissime, nugas . 
 Ecce reoendentis foecundo in littore Nili 
 Ecqjiid ernes Christum ? pro nobis scilicet olim . 
 Enixas pueros matres se sistere templis 
 Excussos manibus calamos falcemque resumptam 
 Ex praelio undae ignisque, si physicis fides 
 
 Eacesse Stoica plebs, obambulans cautes . 
 Frustra, Verpe, tumes, propola cultus 
 
 Galene, fcustra es, cur miserum premens 
 Gorgona cur diram larvafique obtrudis inanes 
 
 Heu, quis spiritus igneusque turbo 
 Hie sita f oeminei laus et victoria sexus 
 Hie, ubi sauati stiUant opobalsama mundi 
 Hoc, Genitrix, scriptum proles tibi sedula mittit 
 Horti, deUciae Dominae, marcescite tandem 
 
 Incipis irridena ; stomachans in carmine pergis . 
 Innocuae mentes, quibus inter flumina mundi . 
 Innupta Pallas, nata Diespatre .... 
 Insolens, audax, facinus nefandum 
 Intellectus adultus Angelorum .... 
 Ite, leues, inquam, Pamassia numina, Musae 
 
 Labeoulas maculasque, nobis objicia 
 
 273 
 
326 
 
 Index of First Lines 
 
 Magnas ea ; esto, bulla si Tocaberis . 
 Munere dum nobis prodes, Ubroque futuris 
 
 Nee dextra te fugit almi amoris emblema , 
 Nempe hue usque notos tenebricosos . 
 Non mea fert aetas, ut te, veterane, lacessam 
 Non moieiis solus ; Mundus simul interit in te 
 Non placet Uibanus noster de nomine lusus 
 Non quia Fontificum sunt olim afflata veneno 
 
 O barbaros ! sic os repeuditis sanctum 
 
 mea suspicienda manus venteique peiennis 
 
 O nimium Latio I reUquis furatus abtmde 
 
 O quam bellus homo es ! lepido quam nomine fingis 
 
 saeclum lepidum I circumstant undique Fratres 
 
 PaUida materni Genii atque exsanguis imago 
 Paivam piamque dum lubenter semitam . 
 Per strages licet auctorum veterumque ruinam . 
 Piscis tributum solvit et tu Caesari 
 Pontificem tandem nacta est sibi Boma poetam 
 Praesulibus dirum te Musa coaiguit hostem 
 Praesulibus nostiis fastus, Melvine, tumentea . 
 Prodnxit umbram corpus, umbia corpori . 
 
 Quae dicteria fudeiat Britannus 
 
 Qualis eras, qui, ne mehor natuia minorem 
 
 Quam chartam tibi poirigo lecentem 
 
 Quam Chiistus immoitalis innocuo gregi . 
 
 Quam nihil illudis. Gens improba ! quam male cedunt 
 
 Quern tu, summe Deus, semel .... 
 
 Qui silicem tundit — mirum tamen — eUcit ignem 
 
 Qui sugit avido spiritu lumusculos 
 
 Quid hoc ? et ipse deficis, coeli gigas 
 
 Quid metuant homines infra, suprave minentur 
 
 Quid mihi si facies nigra est ? hoc, Ceste, colore 
 
 Quid nugoT calamo favens .... 
 
 Quid sacrae tandem meruere vestes . 
 
 Quia hie superbit, oro ? tune, an Praesules 
 
 Quis iste tandem ? non enim Tultu ambulat 
 
 Quisnam Antichristus cessemus quaerere ; Papa 
 
 Quo fugies, sudor ? quamvis pars altera Christi 
 
Index of First Lines 
 
 327 
 
 Quo magis invidiam nobis, et crimina confles 
 Quo te, felix Anna, modo deflere licebit 
 Quod crux nequibat fixa, olavique additi . 
 Quos charos habuit Christus Apostolos 
 Quos tu calcastd fluctus, me, Christe, lacessunt 
 Quos tu rotatus, quale murmur auscultas . 
 
 Boma, tuum nomen, quam non pertransiit oram 
 
 Sagax Hamilitas eligens Tiros bonos . 
 Sancte Pater, coeli custos, quo doctius uno 
 Sanus homo factus, vitiorum poms nteiqne 
 Scotia, quae frigente jaoes porreota sub Aroto 
 Sed neo conjugii signum, Melyine, probabis 
 Serious es dictJs, factis pannusia Baucis 
 Si, Christe, dum suffigeris, tnae yestes 
 Sic tuus eSundi gestit pro crimine sanguis . 
 Solem ex Ocetmo Veteres exsurgere fingunt 
 Sum, quis nescit. Imago Dei, sed saxea certe 
 Te fixo, vel Terra movet ; nam cum Cnice totam 
 Tres video partes, quo re distinctius utar . 
 
 Unusquisque hominum Terra est et filius arvi 
 Ut tenuis flanunEie species caelum usque minatur 
 
 Vulpibus antra feris, nidique Tolucribus adsunt . 
 
 Zacchaeus, at te cemat, arborem scandet . 
 Aia^oa faiirfipav, ciraid^ovin koX SXKot 
 KviiaT imuppiouvTa eo/iijfffor, a'/tt af\rivtjs 
 VliJTtp ywatKoiv dyKij, avSpiiiraiv epis . 
 Vvx^js aaSivis ipKos, ifiavpAr mdimTos 0770s 
 XoXcirdi' SoKct SoKpOaai . . • • 
 
OXFORD : HOBACB HABT 
 PBINTEB TO THE CNIVEKSITT