' LIBRARY OF THE N 
 UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS 
 AT URBANA-CHAMPAIGN 
 
 821 
 
 H41t 
 
 1876 
 

THE TEMPLE 
 
 SACRED POEMS AND PRIVATE 
 EJACULATIONS. 
 
 BY GEORGE HERBERT. 
 
 Being a Facfimile Reprint of the Firji Edition 
 
 WITH AN INTRODUCTION 
 
 BY THE REV. ALEXANDER B. GROSART, 
 
 editor of i( Herbert’s complete works, in verse and prose,” 
 
 AND THE ALDINE EDITION OF “HERBERT’S 
 POEMS,” ETC., ETC* 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 ELLIOT STOCK, 62, Paternoster Row. 
 1876. 
 
WttuL * ///i X*. 
 
 /W/^r 
 
 * u 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 SAAK WALTON — whofe 
 “ Compleat Angler,” in fimilar 
 facfimile, precedes this — in his 
 pathetic narrative of the laft 
 illnefs and gentle end of George Herbert, 
 tells the ftory of the delivery to good Mr. 
 Edmund Duncon of that manufcript which 
 proved to be thofe poems that, as “ The 
 Temple,” have parted <c for all time ” into 
 £ the facred verfe of England, if one might 
 not even fay of Chriftendom. Biographi- 
 cally and bibliographically, it is important to 
 fix the exadt date of its “fweet finger’s” 
 death, and as a corollary of the firft edition 
 of “ The Temple.” Confequently this 
 incident falls here firft of all to be given 
 and examined. After other more perfonal 
 matters, the departing faint, fays his bio- 
 
VI 
 
 The Temple. 
 
 grapher, " did, with fuch a humility as 
 feemed to exalt him, bow down to Mr. 
 Duncon, and with a thoughtful and con- 
 tented look, fay to him : Sir, I pray deliver 
 this little book to my dear brother Farrer 
 [Nicholas Ferrar], and tell him he fhall find 
 in it a pi< 5 ture of the many fpiritual conflicts 
 that have paft betwixt God and my foul 
 before I could fubjedt mine to the will of 
 Jefus myMafter,in Whofefervice I have now 
 found perfedt freedom ; defire him to read 
 it, and then, if he can think it may turn to 
 the advantage of any dejedfced poor foul, let 
 it be made publick ; if not, let him burn it, 
 for I and it are lefs than the leaft of God’s 
 mercies.” " Thus meanly,” adds Walton, 
 “ did this humble man think of this excellent 
 book, which now bears the name of The 
 Temple , or Sacred Poems and Private Ejacu- 
 lations .” The incident and interview and the 
 fwift-following death have ufually been af- 
 fignedto 163 a, becaufe of the regifter’s entry 
 of the burial, but they really belong to 1633. 
 For reafons that will appear immediately. 
 
Introduction. 
 
 yii 
 
 the entries preceding and fucceeding, and 
 the entry of Herbert’s own burial, are here 
 given verbatim et literatim , as thus : — 
 
 Ann 1633. 
 
 Buried was the widow Smith 5 of February 
 William Ellyott the younger was buried viij March 
 Mr George Herbert Efq r Parfon of Fuggleftone 
 and Bemerton buried the 3 d day of 
 March 1632 
 
 Richard Pirmmett was buried 
 xxij of June 
 
 An. Dom. 
 
 1634 Edith Bacon the wife of 
 John Bacon was buried iiij January 
 
 1634 
 
 It lies on the furface that thefe entries 
 were made by the old (illiterate) fcribe of 
 Fuggleftone and Bemerton irregularly, as 
 probably fuited his memory or convenience. 
 Though apparently he ufed to reckon as a 
 rule from January to January, in adding 
 the year in the Herbert entry, he flid into 
 the old mode of reckoning from 25th 
 March, whereby our 3rd March, 1633, 
 would be recorded as 3rd March, 1632. It 
 will be noticed that in addition to this, as 
 
viii The Temple. 
 
 Edith Bacon’s burial belongs to 1634, the 
 prefumption would have been that Herbert’s 
 and Pirmmett’s belonged to the immediately 
 preceding year, i.e. 1633, while Herbert’sFOL- 
 lows one belonging to 1633, not 1632. But 
 befides thefe confiderations, other fads go to 
 prove that George Herbert was living long 
 fubfequent to 3rd March, 1632, as == 1632, 
 e.g. his well-known Letter to Nicholas 
 Ferrar concerning Valdesso is dated 29th 
 September, 1632 ; then, the Will of his niece 
 Dorothy Vaughan (daughter of his After 
 Margaret) was “proved” by him as exe- 
 cutor in the Prerogative Court of Canterbury 
 on 9th Odober, 1632*; and finally, his own 
 Will is Ihown to have been drawn up fubfe- 
 quent to his niece’s, by its difpofing of 100/. 
 left by her to him. Thus 3rd March, 1633, 
 was unqueftionably the real date of Herbert’s 
 interment, and the laft of February or ift of 
 March his probable day of death. It follows 
 that not to 1632 but to 1633 belongs the 
 
 * Herbert was fworn by commiflion before Nathaniel 
 Bollock, his curate — the ‘ commilfion ’ being explained 
 by his fragile health. 
 
Introduction. 
 
 IX 
 
 “ firft impreflion ” of “The Temple.”* 
 Nicholas Ferrar appears to have thrown 
 off a few gift copies of the “ little book ” for 
 immediate friends. Thefe are without date, 
 
 AND ONLY A SINGLE EXEMPLAR OF THESE 
 UNDATED COPIES IS AT PRESENT KNOWN. 
 
 From that, by the kindnefs of its owner 
 (Henry Huth, Efq.), our facfimile has been 
 made. But with the flight exception of the 
 imprints on the title-pages, the two editions 
 of 1633 — firft andfecond — are identical with 
 the undated copy. Doubtlefs the two title- 
 pages of thefe two editions will be acceptable. 
 They are as follows : — 
 
 * The Rev. I. Gregory Smith, M. A., in his collected 
 Eflays (from “ The Chriftian Remembrancer,” vol.xliv. 
 pp. 106-7) fays : “ ‘ The Temple ’ was firft given to the 
 world in 1633, by Nicholas Ferrar, Herbert’s literary 
 executor ; under his editorfhip it was printed by his 
 daughters and other members of his houfehold, or * Pro- 
 teftant Nunnery/ as it has been called, at Little Gidden, 
 in Northamptonfhire, and then publifhed at Cambridge, 
 after being, of courfe, formally licenfed by the Vice- 
 Chancellor’s * imprimatur / ” There is no authority 
 whatever for this alleged printing privately at Little 
 Gidding. The undated and dated alike are expreftly 
 ftated to be “ Printed by Thomas Buck” (as fupra). 
 
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 THE 
 
 TEMPLE. 
 
 SACRED POEM S 
 
 AND 
 
 PRIVATE EJA- 
 CULATIONS. 
 
 «X 2 » 
 
 
 By Mr. George Herbert. 
 
 Psal. 29. 
 
 In his 'Temple doth every * 
 man J "peak of his honour. 
 
 CAMBRIDGE: 
 Printed by Thom. Buck, 
 
 and Roger aniel \ printers 
 to the Univerfitie. 
 
 i 6 33 - 
 
wftiai 
 
 '!» 
 
 - iW 
 
 
 THE 
 
 TEMPLE 
 
 SACRED POEMS 
 
 AND 
 
 PRIVATE EJACU- 
 
 LATIONS. 
 
 By Mr. George Herbert, 
 late Oratour of the Univerfitie 
 of Cambridge . 
 
 The fecond Edition . 
 
 Psal. 29. 
 
 /# j &/7 Temple doth every man 
 /peak of his honour . 
 
 Printed by T. Buck, and 7 ?. ‘Daniel, 
 printers to the Univerfitie 
 of Cambridge, 1633. 
 
 T And are to be fold by Fr. Green . 
 
 mm 
 
 mm 
 
 mm 
 
 mm 
 
 mm 
 
 
xii The Temple. 
 
 Following the 2nd edition of 1 633 — which 
 was a diftindt book, with new letting up of 
 types — came the 3rd in 1634, 4th in 1635, 
 5th in 1638, 6th in 1641, 7th in 1656, 8th 
 in 1660, 9th in 1667, 10th in 1674, nth 
 in 1679, I2t ^ I 7 ° 3 > I 3 t * 1 * n I 7°9- The 
 text from the 1 ft to the 6th edition remained 
 the fame ; from 1 640 “ The Synagogue ” of 
 Christopher Harvey accompanied “The 
 Temple;” from 1656 onward there were 
 orthographical alterations; in 1660 was “an 
 alphabetical table for ready finding out chief 
 places;” in the Life by Walton, 1670, firft 
 appeared a portrait of Herbert; in 1674, 
 “ Temple,” another portrait, and two (forry) 
 illuftrations to “ The Church Threfhold ” 
 and “ The Altar;” in 1679 began fuch cor- 
 ruptions of the text as “ gore ” for “ door ” 
 in The Thankfgiving ( 1 . 6), and “ my ” for 
 “thy” (1. 29) ; and fo increafingly onward. 
 
 The “ firft impreflion,” though in the un- 
 dated copies fent out early in 1633, was not 
 committed to the prefs without oppofition. 
 Walton informs us in his own quaint way 
 
Introduction. 
 
 X1U 
 
 of fuch oppofition : “ This ought to be noted, 
 that when Mr. Farrer fent this book to Cam- 
 bridge to be licenfed for the prefs, the Vice- 
 Chancellor would by no means allow the 
 two fo much-noted verfes, 
 
 4 Religion ftands a-tiptoe in our land, 
 
 Ready to pafs to the American Arand,* 
 
 (“The Church Militant,” 11 . 239-40.) 
 
 to be printed, and Mr. Farrer would by no 
 means allow the book to be printed and want 
 them. But after fome time and fome argu- 
 ments for and againft this being made pub- 
 lick, the Vice-Chancellor faid, ‘ I knew Mr. 
 Herbert well, and know that he had many 
 heavenly fpeculations, and was a divine poet ; 
 but I hope the world will not take him to be 
 an inlpired prophet, and therefore I licenle 
 the whole book.’ So that it came to be 
 printed without the diminution or addition of 
 a fyllable fince it was delivered into the hands 
 of Mr. Duncon, fave only that Mr. Farrer 
 had added that excellent preface that is 
 printed before it.” 
 
XIV 
 
 The Temple. 
 
 The manufcript delivered to Mr. Edmund 
 Duncon has difappeared, but two import- 
 ant MSS. of “ The Temple” are extant. The 
 firft, and moft valuable, is a little Gidding- 
 bound volume, now in the Williams Library, 
 London. It contains about one-half of “ The 
 Temple,” and extremely interefting addi- 
 tional Poems, as well as corrections and va- 
 riations of the others in Herbert’s own auto- 
 graph. The whole of thefe were firft given 
 to the world by me in my Fuller Worthies’ 
 Library edition of the complete Works in 
 Verfe and Profe of George Herbert; and as 
 I write this the Aldine Edition of the poems 
 (George Bell and Sons) is publifhed, contain- 
 ing the fame. Thither the curious Reader is 
 referred. The other MS. is in The Bodleian, 
 andfeemstohave been thetranfcript prefented 
 to the Vice-Chancellor for his “licenfe” — 
 albeit neither in the undated nor dated copy 
 of 1633 or onward, does any “ licenfe ” ap- 
 pear. It may be noted that in the Williams 
 MS. volume the title is not “The Temple,” 
 but more fimply and Chriftianly “ The 
 
Introduction. 
 
 xv 
 
 Church ” — that of “ The Temple ” having 
 been bellowed by Ferrar, who fetched it from 
 Pfalm xxix. — “In his Temple doth every 
 man fpeak of his honour,” — which was the 
 original motto on the title-page. 
 
 The little volume now reproduced in ab- 
 folute fac-fimile in every way — viz., in type, 
 paper, binding — apart from its own intrinlic 
 precioufnefs, in its own humble but mod 
 genuine kind, holds a memorable place in 
 our literary biography. The greater Henry 
 Vaughan earlier, and William Cowper 
 later, regarded their meeting with “ The 
 Temple ” as a profoundly formative element 
 in their inner life. Still earlier it was one of 
 the fcanty library of Charles I. in his impri- 
 fonment, and the royal copy revealed “ much 
 reading” of it. But its crowning glory is 
 to have drawn from Richard Crashaw the 
 peerlefs tribute of naming his own Poems 
 “Steps to the Temple,” and his delightful 
 lines, with which this little Introduction may 
 moil fitly clofe : — 
 
XVI 
 
 The Temple. 
 
 On Mr. George Herbert's Booke intituled The Temple 
 of Sacred Poems : fent to a Gentle-Woman. 
 
 Know you, faire, on what you looke ? 
 
 Divinefl love lyes in this booke : 
 
 Expecting fier from your faire eyes, 
 
 To kindle this his facrifice. 
 
 When your hands untie thefe firings, 
 
 Thinke yo’ have an angell by the wings ; 
 
 One that gladly would be nigh. 
 
 To waite upon each morning figh ; 
 
 To flutter in the balmy aire 
 Of your well-perfumed praier; 
 
 Thefe white plumes of his hee’l lend you. 
 Which every day to Heaven will fend you: 
 
 To take acquaintance of each fpheare. 
 
 And all your fmooth-fac’d kindred there. 
 
 And though Herbert's name doe owe 
 Thefe devotions ; fairefl, know 
 While I thus lay them on the fhrine 
 Of your white hand, they are mine. 
 
 Alexander B. Grosart 
 
 St. George’s Vestry, 
 
 Blackburn, Lancashire, 
 
 April, 1876. 
 
«H»3> 
 
 THE 
 
 TEMPLE 
 
 SACRED POEMS 
 
 AND 
 
 PRIVATE EJA- 
 
 CULATIONS, 
 
 By Mr. George Herbert. 
 late Oratour of the Univerfitie 
 of Cambridge . 
 
 PSAL. 29. 
 
 In his Temple doth every 
 man fpeak of his honour. 
 
 mm 
 
 mm 
 
 mm 
 
 CAMBRIDGE: 
 Printed by Thomas Buck 
 and Roger Daniel: 
 
 And are to be fold by Francis 
 Green y ftationer in. 
 Cambridge . 
 
% The Dedication. 
 
 L Ord, my fir ft fruits prefent tbemfelvesto thee 5 
 Yet not mine neither: for from thee they came , 
 And mu (l return . Accept of them and me. 
 
 And make us ft rive, who Jhall fing beft thy name . , 
 T urn their eyes hither , who Jhall make a gain: 
 Theirs, who Jhall hurt themf elves or me,refrain> 
 
The Printers to the Reader. 
 
 He dedication of this work having been 
 made by the Authour to the ‘Divine Ma- 
 jeftie onely,how fhould we now prefume 
 to intereft any mortall man in the patro- 
 nage of it? Much lefle think we it meet 
 to feek the recommendation of the Mufes , for that 
 which himfelf was confident to have been infpired by 
 a diviner breath then flows from Helicon , The world 
 therefore fhall receive it in that naked fimplicitie, with 
 which he left it, without any addition either of fupport 
 or ornament, more then is included in it felf. Weleave 
 it free and unforeftalled to every mans judgement, and 
 to the benefit that he fhall finde by perufall. Onely for 
 the clearing of fome paffages, we have thought it not 
 unfit to make the common Reader privie to fome few 
 particularities of the condition and difpofition of the 
 Perfon; 
 
 Being nobly born, and as eminently endued with 
 gifts of the minde, and having by induftrie and happy 
 education perfe&ed them to that great height of excel- 
 lencie, whereof his fellowfhip of Trinitie Colledge in 
 Cambridge , and his Orator-fhip in the Univerfitie, 
 together with that knowledge which the Kings Court 
 had taken of him, could make relation farre above or- 
 dinarie. Quitting both his deferts and all the opportu- 
 nities that he had for worldly preferment, he betook 
 himfelf to the Sandtuarie and Temple of God, choo- 
 fing rather to ferve at Gods Altar, then to feek the ho- 
 
 *T 2 nour 
 
nour of State-employments. As for thofe inward en- 
 forcements to this courfe (for outward there was none) 
 which many of thefe enfuing verfes bear witnelfe of, 
 they detract not from the freedome , but adde to the 
 honour of this refolution in him. As God had enabled 
 him, fo he accounted him meet not onely to be called, 
 but to be compelled tothisfervice: Wherein his faith- 
 full difcharge was fuch,as may make him juftly a com- 
 panion to the primitive Saints, and a pattern or more 
 for the age he lived in. 
 
 To teftifie his independencie upon all others, and 
 to quicken his diligence in this kinde,heufed in his or- 
 dinarie fpeech, when he made mention of the bleffed 
 name of our Lord and Saviour Jefus Chrift, to adde, 
 My Mafter. 
 
 Next God, he loved that which God himfelf hath 
 magnified above all things, that is, his Word : fo as he 
 hath been heard to make folemne proteftation, 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 difcipline thereof was Angularly 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 encou- 
 ragements drew the greater part of his parifhioners to 
 accompanie him dayly in the publick celebration of 
 Divine Service. 
 
 As for worldly matters,his love and efteem to them 
 was fo little , as no man can more ambitioufly feek, 
 then he did earneftly endeavour the refignation of an 
 Ecclefiafticall dignitie, which he was pofieffour of. But 
 God permitted not the accomplifhment of this defire, 
 having ordained him his inftrument for reedifying of 
 the Church belonging thereunto, that had layen rui- 
 nated almoft twenty yeares. The reparation whereof, 
 
 having 
 
having been uneffeCtually attempted by publick col- 
 lections , was in the end by his own and Tome few 
 others private free-will-offerings fuccesfully effected. 
 With the remembrance whereof, as of an efpeciall 
 good work, when a friend went about to comfort him 
 on his death-bed, he made anfwer, It is a good work , 
 if it be fprinkled with the bloud of Chrift : other wife 
 then in this refpeCt he could finde nothing to glorie or 
 comfort himfelf with,neither in this,nor in any other 
 thing. 
 
 And thefe are but a few of many that might be faid, 
 which we have chofen to premife as a glance to fome 
 parts of the enfuing book, and for an example to the 
 Reader. We conclude all with his own Motto, with 
 which he ufed to conclude all things that might feem 
 to tend any way to his own honour; 
 
 Lejfe then the leaf of Gods mercies. 
 
The Church-porch. 
 
 Perirrhanterium . 
 
 Hou, whofe fweet youth and early hopes in- 
 hance 
 
 Thy rate and price , and mark thee for a 
 treafure; 
 
 Hearken unto a Verfer , who may chance 
 Ryme thee to good, and make a bait of pleafure. 
 
 A verfe may finde him, who a fermon flies, 
 
 And turn delight into a facrifice. 
 
 Beware of lufb it doth pollute and foul 
 
 Whom God in Baptifme wafht with his own blood. 
 
 It blots thy leflon written in thy foul; 
 
 The holy lines cannot be underftood. 
 
 How dare thofe eyes upon a Bible look, 
 
 Muchlefle towards God, whofe lull is all their book? 
 
 Abftain wholly, or wed. Thy bounteous Lord 
 Allows thee choife of paths: take no by-wayes; 
 But gladly welcome what he doth afford; 
 
 Not grudging,that thy lull hath bounds and ftaies. 
 Continence hath his joy: weigh both; and ftill 
 If rottennefle have more, let Heaven go. 
 
 If God had laid all common, certainly 
 Man would have been th’inclofer : but fince now 
 God hath impal’d us, on the contrarie 
 Man breaks the fence, and every ground will plough. 
 O what were man, might he himfelf mifplace! 
 
 Sure to be croffe he would fhift feet and face. 
 
 A Drink 
 
I 
 
 2 The Church-porch. 
 
 Drink not the third glafle, which thou canft not tame, 
 When once it is within thee; but before 
 Mayft rule it,as thou lift; and poure the fhame. 
 
 Which it would poure on thee, upon the floore. 
 
 It is moft juft to throw that on the ground, 
 
 W hich would throw me there, if I keep the round. 
 
 He that is drunken, may his mother kill 
 Bigge with his fifter: he hath loft the reins, 
 
 Is outlawd by himfelf : all kinde of ill 
 Did with his liquour Aide into his veins. 
 
 The drunkard forfets Man, and doth deveft 
 All worldly right, fave what he hath by beaft. 
 
 Shall I, to pleafe anothers wine-fprungminde, 
 
 Lofe all mine own? God hath giv’n me a meafure 
 Short of his canne,and bodie; muft I finde 
 A pain in that,wherein he Andes a pleafure? 
 
 Stay at the third glafle :if thou lofe thy hold, 
 
 Then thou art modeft,and the wine grows bold. 
 
 If reafon move not Gallants, quit the room, 
 
 (All in a fhipwrack fhift their feverall way) 
 
 Let not a common ruine thee intombe : 
 
 Be not a beaft in courtefte ; but ftay, 
 
 Stay at the third cup,or forgo the place. 
 
 Wine above all things doth Gods ftamp deface. 
 
 Yet, if thou finne in wine or wantonnefle, 
 
 Boaft not thereof ; nor make thy fhame thy glorie. 
 Frailtie gets pardon by fubmifsiveneffe ; 
 
 But he that boafts, (huts that out of his ftorie. 
 
 He makes flat warre with God, and doth defie 
 With his poore clod of earth the fpacious sky. 
 
 Take 
 
3 
 
 The Church-porch. 
 
 Take not his name, who made thy mouth, in vain: 
 
 It gets thee nothing, and hath noexcufe. 
 
 Lull and wine plead a pleafure, avarice gain: 
 
 But the cheap (wearer through his open (luce 
 Lets his foul runne for nought, as little fearing: 
 Were I an Epicure,! could bate fwearing. 
 
 When thou doll tell anothers jell, therein 
 Omit the oathes, which true wit cannot need: 
 
 Pick out of tales the mirth, but not the finne. 
 
 He pares his apple, that will cleanly feed. 
 
 Play not away the vertue of that name, (tame. 
 Which is thy bell Hake, when griefs make thee 
 
 The cheapell linnes molldearely punilhtare ; 
 Becaufe to Ihun them alfo is fo cheap: 
 
 For we have wit to mark them, and to fpare. 
 
 O crumble not away thy fouls fair heap. 
 
 If thou wilt die, the gates of hell are broad: 
 
 Pride and full finnes have made the way a road. 
 
 Lie not; but let thy heart be true to God, 
 
 Thy mouth to it, thy a&ions to them both: 
 
 Cowards tell lies, and thofe that fear the rod; 
 
 The llormie working foul fpits lies and froth. 
 
 Dare to be true. Nothing can need a ly: 
 
 A fault, which needs it moll, grows two thereby. 
 
 Flie idlenelTe, which yet thou canll not flie 
 By d re fling, mi Hr effing, and complement. 
 
 If thofe take up thy day, the funne will crie 
 Againll thee : for his light was onely lent. (thers 
 God gave thy foul brave wings ; put not thofe fea- 
 Into a bed, to fleep out all ill weathers. 
 
 A 2 
 
 Art 
 
4 The Church-porch. 
 
 Art thou a Magiftrate? then be fevere: 
 
 If ftudious; copie fair, what time hath blurr’d; 
 
 Redeem truth from his jawes : if fouldier. 
 
 Chafe brave employments with a naked fword 
 Throughout the world. Fool not: for all may have. 
 If they dare try, a glorious life, or grave. 
 
 O England! full of fmne,but moft of floth; 
 
 Spit out thy flegme,and fill thy breft with glorie: 
 
 Thy Gentrie bleats, as if thy native cloth 
 Transfus'd a fheepifhnefle into thy ftorie: 
 
 Not that they all are fo; but that the mod 
 Are gone to grafTe, and in the pafture loft. 
 
 This lofle fprings chiefly from our education. 
 
 Some till their ground,butlet weeds choke their fonne: 
 Some mark a partridge, never their childes fafhion: 
 Some fhip them over, and the thing is done. 
 
 Studie this art, make it thy great defigne; 
 
 And if Gods image move thee not,let thine. 
 
 Some great eftates provide, but doe not breed 
 A maft’ring mmde ; fo both are loft thereby: 
 
 Or els they breed them tender, make them need 
 All that they leave : this is flat povertie. 
 
 For he,that needs five thoufand pound to live, 
 
 Is full as poore as he,that needs but five. 
 
 The way to make thy fonne rich,is to fill 
 
 His minde with reft, before his trunk with riches: 
 
 For wealth without contentment, climbes a hill 
 To feel thofe tempefts, which fly over ditches. 
 
 But if thy fonne can make ten pound his meafure. 
 Then all thou addeft may be call’d his treafure. 
 
 When 
 
The Church-porch. 5 
 
 When thou doft purpofe ought, (within thy power) 
 Be fure to doe it, though it be but fmall: 
 
 Conftancie knits the bones, and makes us ftowre, 
 When wanton pleafures becken us to thrall. 
 
 Who breaks his own bond, forfeiteth himfelf: 
 What nature made a Blip, he makes a Ihelf. 
 
 Doe all things like a man, not fneakingly: 
 
 Think the king fees thee Hill ; for his King does. 
 Simpring is but a lay-hypocrifie: 
 
 Give it a corner,and the clue undoes. 
 
 Who fears to do ill, fets himfelf to task: 
 
 Who fears to do well, fure fhould wear a mask. 
 
 Look to thy mouth; difeafes enter there. 
 
 Thou haft two fconfes,if thy ftomack call ; 
 
 Carve, or difcourfe; 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 fay withall. Earth to earth I commit. 
 
 Slight thofe who fayamidft their fickly healths. 
 
 Thou liv’ft by rule. What doth not fo, butman? 
 Houfes are built by rule, and common-wealths. 
 Entice the trufty funne, if that you can. 
 
 From his Ecliptick line: becken the skie. 
 
 Who lives by rule then, keeps good companie. 
 
 Who keeps no guard upon himfelf, is flack. 
 
 And rots to nothing at the next great thaw. 
 
 Man is a ftiop of rules, a well trufs’d pack, 
 
 Whofe every parcell under-writes a law. 
 
 Lofe not thy felf , nor give thy humours way: 
 
 God gave them to thee under lock and key. 
 
 A 3 
 
 By 
 
6 
 
 ' The Church-porch. 
 
 By all means ufe fometimes to be alone. 
 
 Salute thy felf : fee what thy foul doth wear. 
 
 Dare to look in thy cheft; for’tis thine own: 
 
 And tumble up and down what thou find’ft there. 
 Who cannot reft till hee good fellows finde, 
 
 He breaks up houfe, turns out of doores his minde. 
 
 Be thriftie, but not covetous : therefore give 
 Thy need, thine honour,and thy friend his due. 
 Never was fcraper brave man. Get to live ; 
 
 Then live,and ufe it: els, it is not true 
 That thou haft gotten. Surely ufe alone 
 Makes money not a contemptible ftonc. 
 
 Never exceed thy income. Youth may make 
 Ev’n with the yeare : but age, if it will hit, 
 
 Shoots a bow (hort,and leffens ftill his ftake, 
 
 As the day leffens, and his life with it. 
 
 Thy children, kindred,friends upon thee call; 
 Before thy journey fairly part with all. 
 
 Yet in thy thriving ftill mifdoubt fome evil; 
 
 Left gaining gain on thee, and make thee dimme 
 To all things els. Wealth is the conjurers devil; 
 Whom when he thinks he hath, the devil hath him. 
 Gold thou mayft fafely touch; but if it ftick 
 Unto thy hands, it woundeth to the quick. 
 
 What skills it, if a bag of (tones or gold 
 About thy neck do drown thee? raife thy head; 
 
 Take ftarres for money; ftarres not to be told 
 By any art, yet to be purchafed. 
 
 None is fo waftefull as the fcraping dame. 
 
 She lofeth three for one; her foul,reft,fame. 
 
 By 
 
The Church-porch . 7 
 
 By no means runne in debt : take thine own meafure. 
 Who cannot live on twentie pound a yeare, 
 
 Cannot on fourtie : he’s a man of pleafure, 
 
 A kinde of thing that’s for it felf too deere. 
 
 The curious unthrift makes his cloth too wide. 
 
 And fpares himfelf , but would his taylor chide. 
 
 Spend not on hopes.They that by pleading clothes 
 Do fortunes feek, when worth and fervice fail, 
 
 Would have their tale beleeved for their oathes, 
 
 And are like empty vefiels under fail. 
 
 Old courtiers know this ; therefore fet out fo, 
 
 As all the day thou mayd hold out to go. 
 
 In clothes, cheap handfomnefTe doth bear the bell. 
 Wifedome’s a trimmer thing, then (hope’re gave. 
 
 Say not then, This with that lace will do well; 
 But,This with my difcretion will be brave. 
 
 Much curioufnefle is a perpetuall wooing 
 Nothing with labour; folly ldng a doing. 
 
 Play not for gain, but fport. Who playes for more, 
 Then he can lofe with pleafure, (lakes his heart ; 
 Perhaps his wives too,and whom (he hath bore: 
 Servants and churches alfo play their part. 
 
 Onely a herauld, who that way doth pafle, 
 
 Findes hiscrackt name at length in the church-gla(Te. 
 
 If yet thou love game at fo deere a rate, 
 
 Learn this, that hath old gameders deerely cod: 
 
 Dod lofe? rife up:do(l winne? rife in that (late. 
 
 Who drive to lit out lofing hands, are lod. 
 
 Game is a civil gunpowder, in peace 
 Blowing up houfes with their whole increafe. 
 
 A 4 
 
 In 
 
8 The Church-porch. 
 
 In converfation boldnefle now bears fway. 
 
 But know, that nothing can fo foolifh be. 
 
 As empty boldnefle: therefore firft aflay 
 To ftufFe thy minde with folid braverie; 
 
 Then march on gallant: get fubftantiall worth. 
 Boldnefle guilds finely, and frill fet it forth. 
 
 Be fweet to all. Is thy complexion fowre? 
 
 Then keep fuch companie ; make them thy allay: 
 
 Get a (harp wife, a fervant that will lowre. 
 
 A Humbler ftumbles leaft in rugged way. 
 
 Command thy felf in chief. He lifes warre knows, 
 Whom all his paflions follow, as he goes. 
 
 Catch not at quarrels. He that dares not fpeak 
 Plainly and home, is coward of the two. 
 
 Think not thy fame at ev’ry twitch will break : 
 
 By great deeds ftiew, that thou canft little do; 
 
 And do them not: that fhall thy wifdome be; 
 
 And change thy temperance into braverie. 
 
 If that thy fame with ev’ry toy be pos’d, 
 
 *Tis a thinne webbe, which poyfonous fancies make: 
 But the great fouldiers honour was compos’d 
 Of thicker ftuffe,which would endure a Ihake. 
 Wifdome picks friends; civilitie playes the reft. 
 
 A toy fhunn’d cleanly pafleth with the beft. 
 
 Laugh not too much: the wittie man laughs leaft: 
 For wit is newes onely to ignorance. 
 
 Lefle at thine own things laugh; left in thejeft 
 Thy perfon fhare,and the conceit advance. 
 
 Make not thy fport,abufes : for the fly 
 That feeds on dung, is coloured thereby. 
 
 Pick 
 
9 
 
 The Church-porch. 
 
 Pick out of mirth, like (tones out of thy ground, 
 Profanenefle, filthinefle, abu(ivene(Te. 
 
 Thefe are the fcumme,with which courfe wits abound: 
 The fine may fpare thefe well, yet not go leffe. 
 
 All things are bigge with jell: nothing that’s plain. 
 But may be wittie, if thou haft the vein. 
 
 Wit's an unruly engine, wildly Itriking 
 Sometimes a friend, fometimes the engineer. 
 
 Halt thou the knack? pamper it not with liking: 
 
 But if thou want it, buy it not too deere. 
 
 Many affe&ing wit beyond their power. 
 
 Have got to be a deare fool for an houre. 
 
 A fad wife valour is the brave complexion, 
 
 That leads the van, and fwallows up the cities. 
 
 The gigler is a milk-maid , whom infection, 
 
 Or a fir'd beacon frighteth from his ditties. 
 
 Then he’s thefport: the mirth then in him reds, 
 And the fad man is cock of all his jeds. 
 
 Towards great perfons ufe refpedtive boldneffe : 
 
 That temper gives them theirs, and yet doth take 
 Nothing from thine: in fervice,care,or coldneffe 
 Doth ratably thy fortunes marreor make. 
 
 Feed no man in his finnes : for adulation 
 Doth make thee parcell-devil in damnation. 
 
 Eiwie not greatnefie: for thou mak’st thereby 
 Thy felf the worfe, and fo the didance greater. 
 
 Be not thine own worm : yet fuch jealoufie. 
 
 As hurts not others, but may make thee better, 
 
 Is a good fpurre. Corredl thy paflions fpite ; 
 
 Then may the beads draw thee to happy light. 
 
 A 5 When 
 
IO 
 
 The Church-porch. 
 
 When bafenefle is exalted, do not bate 
 The place its honour,for the perfons fake. 
 Theihrineis that which thou doft venerate; 
 
 And not the beaft,that bears it on his back. 
 
 I care not though the cloth of Hate fhould be 
 Not of rich arras, but mean tapeftrie. 
 
 Thy friend put in thy bofome : wear his eies 
 Still in thy heart, that he may fee what’s there. 
 
 If caufe require, thou art his facrifice ; 
 
 Thy drops of bloud muft pay down all his fear : 
 
 But love is loft; the way of friendfhip’s gone. 
 Though David had his Jonathan , Chrift his John . 
 
 Yet be notfurety, if thou be a father. 
 
 Love isaperfonall debt. I cannot give 
 My childrens right, nor ought he take it: rather 
 Both friends fhould die,then hinder them to live. 
 Fathers firft enter bonds to natures ends; 
 
 And are her fureties, ere they are a friends. 
 
 If thou be fingle, all thy goods and ground 
 Submit to love ; but yet not more then all. 
 
 Give one eftate, as one life. None is bound 
 To work for two, who brought himfelf to thrall. 
 
 God made me one man; love makes me no more. 
 Till labour come, and make my weakneffe fcore. 
 
 In thy difcourfe, if thou defire to pleafe : 
 
 All fuch is courteous, ufefull, new, or wittie. 
 Ufefulneffe comes by labour, wit by eafe ; 
 
 Courtefie grows in court ; news in the citie. 
 
 Get a good Hock of thefe, then draw the card ; 
 
 That fuites him bell, of whom thy fpeech is heard. 
 
 Entice 
 
The Churh-porch. n 
 
 Entice all neatly to what they know beft; 
 
 For fo thou dolt thy felf and him a pleafure: 
 
 (But a proud ignorance will lofe his reft, 
 
 Rather then (hew his cards) fteal from his treafure 
 What to ask further. Doubts well rais’d do lock 
 The fpeaker to thee, and preferve thy ftock. 
 
 If thou be Mafter-gunner, fpend not all 
 That thou canft fpeak,at once ; but husband it. 
 
 And give men turns of fpeech : do not foreftall 
 By lavifhndTe thine own,and others wit, . 
 
 As if thou mad’ft thy will. A civil gueft 
 Will no more talk all, then eat all the feaft. 
 
 Becalm in arguing: for fierceneffe makes 
 Errour a fault, and truth difcourtefie. 
 
 Why (hould I feel another mans miftakes 
 More, then his fickneftes or povertie ? 
 
 In love I fhould: but anger is not love. 
 
 Nor wifdome neither: therefore gently move. 
 
 Calmnefteis great advantage:he that lets 
 Another chafe, may warm him at his fire : 
 
 Mark all his wandrings,and enjoy his frets; 
 
 As cunning fencers fuffer heat to tire. 
 
 Truth dwels not in the clouds:the bow that’s there, 
 Doth often aim at, never hit the lphere. 
 
 Mark what another fayes: for many are 
 Full of themfelves, and anfwer their own notion. 
 Take all into thee;then with equall care 
 Ballance each dramme of reafon, like a potion. 
 
 If truth be with thy friend, be with them both : 
 Share in the conqueft,and confeffe a troth. 
 
 Be 
 
12 The Church ‘porch. 
 
 Be ufefull where thou lived, that they may 
 Both want, and wifh thy pleafing prefence dill. 
 Kindnede,good parts, great places are the way 
 To compalTe this. Finde out mens wants and will, * 
 And meet them there. All worldly joyes go leffe 
 To the one joy of doing kind neffes* 
 
 Pitch thy behaviour low, thy proje&s high ; 
 
 So lhalt thou humble and magnanimous be : 
 
 Sink not in fpirit: who aimeth at the sky, 
 
 Shoots higher much then he that means a tree. 
 
 A grain of glorie mixt with humblenefle 
 Cures both a fever and lethargickneffe. 
 
 Let thy minde dill be bent,dill plotting where, 
 
 And when, and how the bufinede may be done. 
 SlacknefTe breeds worms; but the fure traveller, 
 Though he alight fometimes, dill goeth on. 
 
 A&ive and dirring fpirits live alone. 
 
 Write on the others, Here lies fuch a one. 
 
 Slight not the fmalled lode, whether it be 
 In love or honour : take account of all ; 
 
 Shine like the funne in every corner: fee 
 Whether thy dock of credit fwell, or fall. 
 
 Who fay, I care not, thofe I give for lod ; 
 
 And to indruft them, ’twill not quit the cod. 
 
 Scorn no mans love, though of a mean degree; 
 
 (Love is a prefent for a mightie king) 
 
 Much lefle make any one thine enemie. 
 
 As gunnes dedroy, fo may a little ding. 
 
 The cunning workman never doth refufe 
 The meaned tool,that he may chance to ufe. 
 
 All 
 
j The Church-porch. 13 
 
 All terrain wifdome doth amount to this. 
 
 To take all that is given; whether wealth. 
 
 Or love, or language; nothing comes amifle : 
 
 A good digeftion turneth all to health: 
 
 And then as farre as fair behaviour may, 
 
 Strike off all fcores; none are fo cleare as they. 
 
 Keep all thy native good, and naturalize 
 All terrain of that name; but fcorn their ill: 
 
 Embrace their adliveneffe, not vanities. 
 
 Who follows all things, forfeiteth his will. 
 
 If thou obfervefl ftrangers in each fit. 
 
 In time they*! runne thee out of all thy wk. 
 
 Affedl in things about thee cleanlineffe. 
 
 That all may gladly board thee, as a flowre. 
 
 Slovens take up their flock of noifomneffe 
 Beforehand , and anticipate their lafl houre. 
 
 Let thy mindes fweetneffe have his operation 
 . . Upon thy body, clothes, and habitation, . 
 
 In Alines regard thy means, and others merit. 
 
 Think heav’n a better bargain, then to give 
 Onely thy fingle market-money for it. 
 
 Joyn hands with God to make a man to live. 
 
 Give to all fomething; to a good poore man. 
 
 Till thou change names,and be where he began. 
 
 Man is Gods image; but a poore man is 
 Chrifls (lamp to boot: both images regard. 
 
 God reckons for him, counts the favour his: 
 
 Write, So much giv’n to God ; thou fhalt be heard. 
 
 Let thy almes go before, and keep heav’ns gate 
 Open for thee ; or both may come too late. 
 
 Refiore 
 
14 ^he Church-porch . 
 
 Reftore to God his due in tithe and time: 
 
 A tithe purloin’d cankers the whole eftate, 
 
 Sundaies obferve: think when the bells do chime, 
 
 *Tis angels mufick ; therefore come not late, 
 
 God then deals bleflings : If a king did fo. 
 
 Who would not hafte, nay give, to fee the fhow ? 
 
 T wice on the day his due is underftood ; 
 
 For all the week thy food fo oft he gave thee. 
 
 Thy cheere is mended; bate not of the food, 
 
 Becaufe ’tis better, and perhaps may fave thee. 
 Thwart not th’ Almighty God: O be not crofTe. 
 i Fad when thou wilt; but then , tis gain, not Ioffe, 
 
 Though private prayer be a brave defigne. 
 
 Yet publick hath more promifes, more love : 
 
 And love’s a weight to hearts, to eies a figne. 
 
 We all are but cold fuitours; let us move 
 * Where it is warmeft. Leave thy fix and feven ; 
 Pray with the molt : for where moft pray, is heaven. 
 
 When once thy foot enters the church, be bare. 
 
 God is more there, then thou: for thou art there 
 Onely by his permifiion. Then beware, 
 
 And make thy felf all reverence and fear. 
 
 Kneeling ne’re fpoil’d filk fiocking: quit thy ftate. 
 All equall are within the churches gate. 
 
 Refort to fermons, but to prayers moll: 
 
 Praying *s the end of preaching. O be dreft; 
 
 Stay not for th’ other pin: why thou haft loft 
 A joy for it worth worlds. Thus hell doth jeft 
 Away thy blefiiugs, and extreamly flout thee, 
 
 Thy clothes being faft,but thy foul loofe about thee. 
 
 In 
 
The Church-porch. 15 
 
 In time of fervice leal up both thine eies. 
 
 And fend them to thineiheart ; that fpying finne. 
 
 They may weep out the flains by them did rife : 
 
 Thofe doores being fhut, all by the eare comes in, 
 Who marks in church-time others fymmetrie. 
 Makes all their beautie his deformitie. 
 
 Let vain or bufie thoughts have there no part : 
 
 Bring not thy plough, thy plots, thy pleasures thither. 
 Chrift purg’d his temple; fo mull 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. 
 
 judge not the preacher; for he is thy Judge: 
 
 If thou millike him, thou conceiv’llhim not. 
 
 God calleth preaching folly. Do not grudge 
 To pick out treafures from an earthen pot. 
 
 The worft fpeak fomething good: if all want fenfe, 
 God takes a text, and preacheth patience. 
 
 He that gets patience, and the blefing which 
 Preachers conclude with, hath not loll his pains. 
 
 He that by being at church efcapes the ditch, 
 
 Which he might fall in by companions, gains. 
 
 He that loves Gods abode, and to combine 
 With faints on earth, lhall one day with them fliine 
 
 Jeft not at preachers language, or expreffion : 
 
 How know’ll thou, but thy linnesmade himmifcarrie? 
 Then turn thy faults and his into confeffion : 
 
 God lent him,whatfoe’re he be : O tarry. 
 
 And love him for his Mailer : his condition. 
 
 Though it be ill, makes him no ill Phyfician. 
 
 None 
 
i6 The Church-porcb. 
 
 Kone (hall in hell fuch bitter pangs endure. 
 
 As thofe, who mock at Gods way of falvation. 
 Whom oil and balfames kill, what falve can cure? 
 They drink with greedinefle a full damnation. 
 
 The Jews refufed thunder; and we, folly. 
 Though God do hedge us in, yet who is holy? 
 
 Summe up at night, what thou haft done by day ; 
 And in the morning, what thou haft to do. 
 
 Drefle and undrefle thy foul : mark the decay 
 And growth of it : if with thy watch, that too 
 Be down, then winde up both, lince we fliall be 
 Moft fureJy judg’d, make thy accounts agree. 
 
 In brief, acquit thee bravely ; play the man. 
 
 Look not on pleafures as they come, but go. 
 Deferre not the leaft vertue: lifes poore fpan 
 Make not an ell, by trifling in thy wo. 
 
 If thou do ill; the joy fades, not the pains : 
 if wellj the pain doth fade, the joy remains. 
 
 Super 
 
*7 
 
 Superliminare. 
 
 T Hou, whom the former precepts have 
 Sprinkled and taught, how to behave 
 Thyfelf in church; approach, and tafle 
 The churches myfticall repaft. 
 
 A Void profaneneffe; come not here: 
 Nothing but holy, pure, and cleare. 
 Or that which groneth to be fo, 
 
 May at his perill further go. 
 
 The 
 
The Altar. 
 
 A broken Altar, Lord , thy fervant reares , 
 Made of a heart , and cemented with teares : 
 Whorfe parts are as thy hand did frame; 
 
 No workmans tool hath touch’d the fame. 
 
 A Heart alone 
 Is fuch a (lone , 
 
 As nothing but 
 Thy pow’r doth cut. 
 
 Wherefore each part 
 Of my hard heart 
 Meets in this frame. 
 
 To pcaife thy name. 
 
 That if I chance to hold my peace, 
 Thefe {tones to praife thee may not ceafe. 
 
 O let thy blefled Sacrifice be mine , 
 And fandtifie this Altar to be thine. 
 
 The 
 
The Church. 1 9 
 
 The-Sacrifice. 
 
 O H all ye , who paffe by, whofe eyes and minde 
 To worldly things are fharp , but to me blinde; 
 To me, who took eyes that I might youfinde: 
 
 Was ever grief like mine ? 
 
 The Princes of my people make a head 
 Againft their Maker: they do wifh me dead. 
 
 Who cannot wifh, 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 flave. 
 
 They ufe that power againft me, which I gave: 
 
 Was ever grief like mine? 
 
 Mine own Apcftlc,who the bag did beare, 
 
 Though he had all I had, did not forbeare 
 To fell me alfo, and to put me there: 
 
 Was ever grief, &c. 
 
 For thirtie pence he did my death devife. 
 
 Who at three hundred did the ointment prize. 
 
 Not half fo fweet as my fweet facrifice: 
 
 Was ever grief, See. 
 
 Therefore my foul melts,and my hearts deare treafure 
 Drops bloud ( theonely beads) my words to meafure: 
 O let this cup paffe > if it be thy pleafure: 
 
 Was ever grief, Sec. 
 
 Thefe drops being temper’d with a finners tears, 
 
 A Balfome are for both the Hemifpheres : 
 
 Curing all wounds, but mine; all ,but my fears: 
 
 Was ever grief, &c. 
 
 Yet 
 
20 The Church. 
 
 Yet my Difciples fleep: I cannot gain 
 
 One houre of watching;but their drowfie brain 
 
 Comforts not me, and doth my do&rine ftain: 
 
 Was ever grief like mine? 
 
 Arife, arife, they come. Look how they runne. 
 
 Alas! what hade they make to be undone ! 
 
 How with their lanterns do they feek the funne ! 
 
 Was ever grief, &c. 
 
 With clubs and ftaves they feek me, as a thief. 
 
 Who am the way of truth, the true relief; 
 
 Moft true to thofe, who are my greateft grief: 
 
 Was ever grief, Sc c. 
 
 Judas , doft thou betray me with a kiffe ? 
 
 Canft thou finde hell about my lips? and miffe 
 Of life, juft at the gates of life and blifte ? 
 
 Was ever grief, See. 
 
 See, they lay hold on me, not with the hands 
 Of faith, but furie: yet at their commands 
 I fuffer binding, who have loos’d their bands: 
 
 Was ever grief, See. 
 
 All my Difciples flie; fear puts a barre 
 Betwixt my friends and me. They leave the ftarre, 
 That brought the wife men of the Eaft from farre. 
 
 Was ever grief, &c. 
 
 Then from one ruler to another bound 
 They leade me; urging, that it was not found 
 What I taught: Comments would the text confound. 
 
 Was ever grief, See . 
 
 The Prieft and rulers all falfe witneflefeek 
 ’Gainft him, who feeks not life, but is the meek 
 And readie Pafchal Lambe of this great week: 
 
 Was ever grief, &c. 
 
 Then 
 
21 
 
 The Church 
 
 Then they accufe me of great blafphemie, 
 
 That I did thruft into the Deitie, 
 
 Who never thought that any robberie: 
 
 Was ever grief like mine? 
 
 Some faid, that I the Temple to the floore 
 In three dayes raz’d, and raifed as before. 
 
 Why, he that built the world can do much more. 
 
 Was ever grief, &c. 
 
 Then they condemne me all with that fame breath. 
 Which I do give them daily, unto death. 
 
 Thus Adam my firlt breathing rendereth: 
 
 Was ever grief, &c. 
 
 They binde, and leade me unto Herod: he 
 Sends me to Pilate . This makes them agree; 
 
 But yet their friendfhip is my enmitie: 
 
 Was ever grief, &c. 
 
 Herod and all his bands do fet me light. 
 
 Who teach all hands to warre, fingers to fight. 
 
 And onely am the Lord of holts and might: 
 
 Was ever grief, &c 9 
 
 Herod in judgement fits, while I do Hand; 
 
 Examines me with a cenforious hand: 
 
 I him obey,who all things elfe command: 
 
 Was ever grief, &c. 
 
 The Jews accufe me with defpitefulnefie; 
 
 And vying malice with my gentlenefie. 
 
 Pick quarrels with their onely happinefie: 
 
 Was ever grief. & c, 
 
 I anfwer nothing, but with patience prove 
 If Itonie hearts will melt with gentle love. 
 
 But who does hawk at eagles with a dove ? 
 
 Was ever grief, &c. 
 
 My 
 
22 The Church. 
 
 My filence rather doth augment their crie; 
 
 My dove doth back into my bofome flie, 
 
 Becaufe the raging waters ftill are high: 
 
 Was ever grief like mine? 
 
 Heark how they crie aloud ftill, Crucifie: 
 
 It is not Jit he live a day, they crie. 
 
 Who cannot live leffe then eternally: 
 
 Was ever grief, &c. 
 
 Pilate a ftranger holdeth off; but they, 
 
 Mine owne deare people, cry, Aw ay, aw ay, 
 
 With noifes confufed frighting the day: 
 
 W as ever grief, &c„ 
 
 Yet ftill they lhout, and crie, and ftop their eares. 
 Putting my life among their finnes and fears, 
 
 And therefore vtiftimy bloud on them and theirs . 
 
 Was ever grief, &c. 
 
 See how fpite cankers things. Thefe words aright 
 Ilfed, and wifhed, are the whole worlds light: 
 
 But hony is their gall, brightneffe their night: 
 
 Was ever grief, &c. 
 
 They choofe a murderer, and all agree 
 In him to do themfelves a courtefie : 
 
 For it was their own caufe who killed me: 
 
 Was ever grief, See . 
 
 And afeditious murderer he was: 
 
 But I the Prince of peace; peace that doth pafle 
 All underftanding, more then heav’n dothglaffe: 
 
 Was evergrie^ Sec. 
 
 Why, Cefar is their onely King, not I: 
 
 He clave the ftonie rock, when they were drie; 
 Butfurely not their hearts, as I well trie: 
 
 Was ever grief, Sec. 
 
 Ah 
 
2 3 
 
 The Church . 
 
 Ah! how they fcourge me! yet my tenderneffe 
 Doubles each lafh: and yet their bitterneffe 
 Windes up my grief to a myfterioufneffe: 
 
 Was ever grief like mine ? 
 
 They buffet me,and box me as they lift, 
 
 Who grafp the earth and heaven with my fift. 
 
 And never yet, whom I would punifti, mifs’d : 
 
 Was ever grief. See, 
 
 Behold, they fpit on me in fcornfull wife. 
 
 Who by my fpittle gave the blinde man eies, 
 Leaving his blindneffe to mine enemies: 
 
 Was ever grief, &c. 
 
 My face they cover, though it be divine. 
 
 As Mofes face was vailed, fo is mine, 
 
 Left on their double-dark fouls either fhine: 
 
 Was ever grief, See, 
 
 Servants and abjefts flout me; they are wittie : 
 
 Now prophefie who ftrikes thee , is their dittie. 
 
 So they in me denie themfelvesall pitie: 
 
 Was ever grief, Sec. 
 
 And now I am deliver’d unto death. 
 
 Which each one cals for fo with utmoft breath, 
 That he before me well nigh fuffereth: 
 
 Was ever grief, &c. 
 
 Weep not, deare friends, fince I for both have wept 
 When all my tears were bloud, the while you flept: 
 Your tears for your own fortunes ftiould be kept: 
 Was ever grief. Sec . 
 
 The fouldiers lead me to the common hall; 
 
 There they deride me, they abufe me all : 
 
 Yet for twelve heav’nly legions I could call: 
 
 Was ever grief, Sec. 
 
24 The Church. 
 
 Then with a fcarlet robe they me aray; 
 
 Which (hews my bloud to be the onely way. 
 
 And cordiall left to repair mans decay : 
 
 Was ever grief like mine? 
 
 Then on my head a crown of thorns I wear: 
 
 For thefe are all the grapes Sion doth bear, 
 
 Though I my vine planted and watred there : 
 
 Was ever grief ,&c. 
 
 So fits the earths great curfe in Adams fall 
 Upon my head : fo I remove it all 
 From th’ earth unto my brows, and bear the thrall: 
 Was ever grief, &c. 
 
 Then with the reed they gave to me before, 
 
 They ftrike my head, the rock from whence all (lore 
 Of heav’nly blesfings iflue evermore: 
 
 Was ever grief, &c. 
 
 They bow their knees to me, and cry, Kail king: 
 What ever fcofFes or fcornfulnefle can bring, 
 
 I am the floore,the fink, where they it fling: 
 
 Was ever grief, &c. 
 
 Yet fince mans feepters 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, &c. 
 
 The fouldiersalfo fpit upon that face, 
 
 Which Angels did defire to have the grace, 
 
 And Prophets once to fee, but found no place : 
 
 Was ever grief, &c. 
 
 Thus trimmed forth they bring me to the rout. 
 
 Who Crucifie him , crie with one ftrong (hout. 
 
 God holds his peace at man, and man cries out: 
 
 Was ever grief, &c. 
 
 They 
 
25 
 
 The Church. 
 
 They leade me in once more, and putting then 
 Mine own clothes on, they leade me out agen. 
 Whom devils fiie,thus is he tofs’d of men: 
 
 Was ever grief like mine? 
 
 And now wearie of fport,glad to ingroffe 
 All fpite in one, counting my life their Ioffe, 
 
 They carrie me to my moft bitter croffe: 
 
 Was ever grief, &c. 
 
 My croffe I bear my felf , untill I faint: 
 
 Then Simon bears it for me by conftraint, 
 
 The decreed burden of each mortall Saint : 
 
 Was ever grief, &c, 
 
 O all ye who pajje by, behold and fee ; 
 
 Man flole the fruit, but I muftclimbe the tree; 
 
 The tree of life to all, but onely me : 
 
 Was ever grief, &c. 
 
 Lo,here I hang, charg’d with a world of finne, 
 The greater world o’th’ two ; for that came in 
 By words, but this by forrow I muft win : 
 
 Was ever grief , &c. 
 
 Such forrow, as if finfull man could feel, 
 
 Or feel his part,he would not ceafe to kneel. 
 
 Till all were melted, though he were all fleel: 
 
 Was ever grief, &c. 
 
 But, O my God , my God ! why leav’ft thou me. 
 The fonne, in whom thou doll: delight to be ? 
 
 My God, my God — ■■■■ ■ 
 
 Never was grief like mine. 
 
 Shame tears my foul rny bodie many a wound; 
 Sharp nails pierce this, but lharper that confound; 
 Reproches, which are free, while I am bound. 
 
 Was ever grief, &c, 
 
 B 
 
 Now 
 
26 The Church. 
 
 Now heal thy felf, Phyfician;nowcome down. 
 Alas ! I did fo, when I left my crown 
 And fathers ftnile for you, to feel his frown: 
 
 Was ever grief like mine ? 
 
 In healing not my felf, there dothconfifl 
 All that falvation, which ye now refill; 
 
 Your fafetie in my ficknefle doth fubfifl: 
 
 Was ever grief, &c. 
 
 Betwixt two theeves I fpend my utmofl breath. 
 
 As he that for fome robberie fuffereth. 
 
 Alas ! what have I flollen from you? death: 
 
 Was ever grief, &c. 
 
 A king my title is, prefixt on high ; 
 
 Yet by my fubje&s am condemn’d to die 
 A fervile death in fervile companie; 
 
 Was ever grief, &c. 
 
 They gave me vineger mingled with gall, 
 
 But more with malice: yet, when they did call. 
 With Manna, Angels food, I fed them all: 
 
 Was ever grief, &c. 
 
 They part my garments, and by lot difpofe 
 My coat, the type of love, which once cur’d thofe 
 Who fought for help, never malicious foes: 
 
 Was ever grief, &c. 
 
 Nay, after death their fpite fhall further go; 
 
 For they will pierce my fide, I full well know; 
 That as finne came, fo Sacraments might flow: 
 Was ever grief , &c. 
 
 But now I die; now all is finifhed. 
 
 My wo, mans weal: and now I bow my head. 
 Onely let others fay,whcn I am dead, 
 
 Never was grief like mine. 
 
The Church. 
 
 27 
 
 •[[The Thankfgiving. 
 
 O H King of grief! ( a title ilrange, yet true, 
 
 To thee of all kings onely due ) 
 
 Oh King of wounds ! how ihall I grieve for thee* 
 
 Who in all grief preventeft me*' 
 
 Shall I weep bloud ? why thou hail wept fuch Acre 
 That all thy body was one doore. 
 
 Shall I be fcourged, flouted, boxed, fold / 
 
 *Tis but to tell the tale is told. 
 
 My God , my God,zohy doft thou part from me? 
 
 Was fuch a grief as cannot be. 
 
 Shall I then fing, skipping, thy dolefull ilorie. 
 
 And fide with thy triumphant glorie? 
 
 Shall thy ilrokes be my ilroking? thorns, my flower? 
 
 Thy rod, my pofie f crofle, my bower? 
 
 But how then ihall I imitate thee, and 
 
 Copie thy fair, though bloudie band? 
 
 Sorely I will reuenge me on thy love. 
 
 And trie who ihall vi&orious prove. 
 
 If thou doll give me wealth; Iwillreilore 
 All back unto thee by the poore. 
 
 If thou doil give me honour; men Ihall fee. 
 
 The honour doth belong to thee. 
 
 I will not marry; or, if ihe be mine. 
 
 She and her children ihall be thine. 
 
 My bofome friend, if he blafpheme thy name, 
 
 I will tear thence his love and fame. 
 
 One half of me being gone, the reft I give 
 Untofome Chappell, die or live* 
 
 As for thy paflion— But of that anon, 
 
 When with the other I have done. 
 
 For thy predeilination Tie contrive. 
 
 That three yeares hence, if I furvive, 
 
 B 2 Tie 
 
28 The Church. 
 
 Tie build a fpittle, or mend common wayes, 
 But mend mine own without delayes. 
 
 Then I will ufe the works of thy creation, 
 
 As if I us’d them but for fafhion. 
 
 The world and I will quarrell; and the yeare 
 Shall not perceive, that I am here. 
 
 My mufick fhall finde thee, and ev’ry firing 
 Shall have his attribute to ling; 
 
 That all together may accord in thee, 
 
 And prove one God, one harmonie. 
 
 If thou (halt give me wit, it fhall appeare. 
 
 If thou haftgiv’n it me, ’tis here. 
 
 Nay, I will reade thy book, and never move 
 Till I have found therein thy love; 
 
 Thy art of love, which Fie turn back on thee, 
 O my deare Saviour, Vidlorie! 
 
 Then for thy paffion-- I will do for that— 
 
 Alas, my God, I know not what. 
 
 The Reprifall. 
 
 X Have confider’d it, and finde 
 There is no dealing with thy mighty paffion : 
 For though I die for thee, I am behinde 5 
 
 My finnes deferve the condemnation. 
 
 O make me innocent, that I 
 May give a difentangled flate and free: 
 
 And yet thy wounds flill my attempts defie, 
 For by thy death I die for thee. 
 
 Ah ! was it not enough that thou 
 By thy eternall glorie did ft outgo me? 
 
 Couldft thou not griefs fad conquefts me allow. 
 But in all vidl’ries overthrow me? 
 
 Yet 
 
29 
 
 The Church. 
 
 Yet by confedion will I come 
 Into the conqued. Though I can do nought 
 Againd thee,in thee I will overcome 
 
 The man, who once againd thee fought. 
 
 «[[ The Agonie. 
 
 P Hilofophers have meafur’d mountains. 
 Fathom’d the depths of feas, of dates, and kings. 
 Walk’d with a daffe to heav’n,and traced fountains: 
 But there are two vad, fpacious things. 
 
 The which to meafure it doth more behove: 
 
 Yet few there are that found them; Sinne and Love. 
 
 Who would know Sinne, let him repair 
 Unto mount Olivet; there fhall he fee 
 A man fo wrung with pains, that all his hair. 
 
 His skinne, his garments bloudie be. 
 
 Sinne is thatprede and vice, which forceth pain 
 Tohunthiscruell food through ev’ry vein. 
 
 Who knows not Love, let him afiay 
 And tade that juice, which on the erode a pike 
 Did fet again abroach; then let him fay 
 If ever he did tade the like. 
 
 Love is that liquour fweet and mod divine, 
 
 Which my God feels as bloud; but I, as wine. 
 
 Bj 
 
 1 The 
 
30 
 
 The Church. 
 
 The Sinner. 
 
 L Ord, how I am all ague, when I feek 
 
 What I have treafur’d in my memorie ! 
 
 Since, if my foul make even with the week. 
 Each feventh note by right is due to thee. 
 
 I finde there quarries of pil'd vanities. 
 
 But fhreds of holinefle, that dare not venture 
 To fhew their face, fince croffe to thy decrees: 
 There the circumference earth is, heav'n the centre. 
 
 In fo much dregs the quinteffence is fmall: 
 
 The fpirit and good extract of my heart 
 Comes to about the many hundredth part. 
 Yet Lord reftore thine image, heare my call : (grone. 
 
 And though my hard heart fcarce to thee can 
 Remember that thou once didft write in Hone. 
 
 ^ Good Friday. 
 
 O My chief good, 
 
 How fhall I mcafure out thy bloud? 
 
 How fhall I count what thee befell, 
 
 And each grief tell? 
 
 Shall I thy woes 
 Number according to thy foes? 
 
 Or, fince one flarre fhow’d thy firfl breath, 
 Shall all thy death? 
 
 Or fhall each leaf, 
 
 Which falls in Autumne, fcore a grief f 
 Or cannot leaves, but fruit, be figne 
 Of the true vine? 
 
 Then 
 
The Church. 31 
 
 Then let each houre 
 Of my whole life one grief de.voure ; 
 
 That thy diftreffe through all may runne, 
 
 And be my funne. 
 
 Or rather let 
 
 My feverall finnes their forrows get; 
 
 That as each beaft his cure doth know. 
 
 Each .finne may fo. 
 
 Since blood is fitted. Lord , to write 
 Thy forrows in, and bloudie fight; 
 
 My heart hath ftore, write there, where in 
 One box doth lie both ink andfinne: 
 
 That when finne fpies fo many foes. 
 
 Thy whips, thy nails, thy wounds, thy woes, 
 
 All come to lodge there, finne may fay, 
 
 No roots for me , and flie away . 
 
 Sinne being gone, oh fill the place. 
 
 And keep poffeffion with thy grace ; 
 
 Left finne take courage and return, 
 
 And all the writings blot or burn. 
 
 Redemption. 
 
 H A ring been tenant long to a rich Lord, 
 
 Not thriving, I refolved to be bold. 
 
 And make a fuit unto him, to afford 
 A newfmall-rented leafe, and cancell th* old. 
 
 In heaven at his manour I him fought: 
 
 They told me there, that he was lately gone 
 About fome land, which he had dearly bought 
 Longfince on earth, to take poffeffion. 
 
 B 4 
 
 I 
 
32 The Church . 
 
 I ftraight return’d, and knowing his great birth, 
 Sought him accordingly in great reforts ; 
 
 In cities, theatres, gardens, parks, and courts: 
 At length I heard a ragged noife and mirth 
 
 Of theeves and murderers: there I him efpied. 
 Who flraight ,Yourfuit is granted ,faid,&died. 
 
 Sepulchre. 
 
 O Blefied bodie ! Whither art thou thrown? 
 
 No lodging for thee, but a cold hard ftone? 
 
 So many hearts on earth, and yet not one 
 Receive thee ? 
 
 Sure there is room within our hearts good ftore 
 For they can lodge tranfgreffions by the fcore: 
 Thoufands of toyes dwell there, yet out of doore 
 They leave thee. 
 
 But that which Ihews them large,fhews them unfit. 
 What ever finne did this pure rock commit. 
 
 Which holds thee now ? Who hath indited it 
 Of murder ? 
 
 fthee, 
 
 Where our hard hearts have took up ftonesto brain 
 And miffing this, moft falfly did arraigne thee ; 
 
 Onely thefe ftones in quiet entertain thee, 
 
 And order. 
 
 And as of old, the law by heav’nly art 
 Was writ in (lone ; fo thou, which alfo art 
 The letter of the word, find’fl no fit heart 
 To hold thee. 
 
 Yet do we Hill perfiil as we began. 
 
 And fo fhould perifh, but that nothing can, 
 
 Though it be cold, hard, foul, from loving man 
 Withold thee. 
 
The Church, 
 
 ^ E after. 
 
 R ife heart; thy Lord is rifen. Sing his praife 
 Without delayes. 
 
 Who takes thee by the hand , that thou likewife 
 With him mayft rife : 
 That, as his death calcined thee to dull. 
 
 His life may make thee gold, and much more juft. 
 
 Awake, my lute, and ftruggle for thy part 
 
 With all thy art. 
 
 Thecrofle taught all wood to refound his name, 
 Who bore the fame. 
 
 His ftreched flnews taught all firings, what key 
 Is heft to celebrate this moll high day. 
 
 Confort both heart and lute, and twift a fong 
 
 Pleafant and long ; 
 
 Or fince all muflek is but three parts vied 
 
 And multiplied ; 
 
 O let thy bleffed Spirit bear a part , 
 
 And make up our defe&s with his fweet art. 
 
 I got me flowers to draw thy way; 
 
 I got me boughs off many a tree : 
 
 But thou waft up by break of day. 
 
 And brought’!! thy fweets along with thee. 
 
 The Sunne ariflng in the Eaft, 
 
 Though he give light, & th’ Eaft perfume ; 
 
 If they fhould offer to conteft 
 With thy ariflng, they prefume. 
 
 Can there be any day but this, 
 
 Though many funnes to Ihine endeavour? 
 
 We count three hundred, butwemifle: 
 
 There is but one, and that one ever. 
 
 B 5 
 
 Eafter 
 
As larks, harmonioufly. 
 
 And ling this day thy victories: 
 
 Then lhall the fall further the flight in me. 
 
 The Church, 
 
 Eafter wings. 
 
 3 g 
 
 rr ^ 
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 H o 
 
 H S 
 
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 CTQ S- 
 
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 Q- Jr* 3 
 
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 2 » 3 
 
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 O £L 
 
 Eafter 
 
And feel this day thy vi&orie : 
 
 For, if I imp my wing on thine, 
 Affii&ion (hall advance the flight i 
 
 The Church . 
 Eafter wings. 
 
 35 
 
 a 
 
 S o «•* 
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 o- 5 
 
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 3 
 
 3 * 
 
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 El 
 
 H. Ba 
 
36 The Church. 
 
 ^ H. Baptifme. 
 
 A S he that fees a dark and fhadie grove, 
 
 Stayes not, but looks beyond it on the skie ; 
 
 So when I view my finnes, mine eyes remove 
 More backward Hill, and to that water flie. 
 
 Which is above the heav’ns, whole fpring and rent 
 Is in my deare Redeemers pierced fide. 
 
 O blefied ftreams ! either ye do prevent 
 And itop our finnes from growing thick and wide* 
 
 Or dfe give tears to drown them, as they grow. 
 
 In you Redemption meafures all my time. 
 
 And fpreads the plaifter equall to the crime: 
 You taught the book of life my name, that fo 
 
 What ever future finnes Ihould me mifcall. 
 Your firft acquaintance might difcredit all.. 
 
 ^jj H. Baptifme. 
 
 l^Ince, Lord, to thee 
 A narrow way and little gate 
 Is all the paffage, on my infancie 
 
 Thou didft lay hold, and antedate 
 My faith in me, 
 
 O let me Hill 
 
 Write thee great God , and me 3 childe 
 Let me be foft and fupple to thy will, 
 
 Small to my felf, to others milde, 
 Behither ill. 
 
 Although by ftealth 
 My flelh get on, yet let her filler 
 My foul bid nothing, but preferve her wealth; 
 
 The growth of flefh is but a blifter ; 
 Childhood is health. 
 
37 
 
 The Church. 
 
 Nature. 
 
 F U il of rebellion, I would die. 
 
 Or fight, or travell, or denie 
 That thou halt ought to do with me. 
 
 O tame my heart ; 
 
 It is thy higheft art 
 To captivate llrong holds to thee. 
 
 If than {halt let this venome lurk, 
 
 And in fuggellions fume and work. 
 
 My foal will turn to bubbles ftraight, 
 
 And thence by kindc 
 Vanilh into a winde. 
 Making thy workmanlhip deceit, 
 
 O ftnooth my rugged heart, and there 
 Engrave thy rev’rend law and fear ; 
 
 Or make a new one, fince the old 
 
 Is faplefTe grown. 
 And a much fitter ftone 
 To hide my dull, then thee to hold. 
 
 Sinne. 
 
 L Ord , with what care haft thou begirt us round ! 
 Parents firft feafon us: thenfchoolmafters 
 Deliver us to laws ; they fend us bound 
 To rules of reafon, holy meflengers. 
 
 Pulpits and ftmdayes, forrow dogging finnc, 
 AfEi&ions forted, anguilh of all fizes. 
 
 Pine nets and ftrategems to catch us in, 
 
 Bibles kid open, millions offurprifes , 
 
 Bleffiogs 
 
38 The Church. 
 
 Bkffings beforehand, tyes of gratefulnefle. 
 
 The found of glorie ringing in our eares: 
 Without, our fhame ; within, our confciences ; 
 Angels and grace, eternall hopes and fears. 
 
 Yet all thefe fences and their whole aray 
 One cunning bofome-finne blows quite away. 
 
 Affliction. 
 
 firft thou did ft entice to thee my heart, 
 
 I thought the fervice brave: 
 
 So many joyes I writ down for my part, 
 
 Befides what I might have 
 Out of* my ftock of naturall delights. 
 
 Augmented with thy gracious benefits. 
 
 I looked on thy furniture fo fine, 
 
 And made it fine to me ; 
 
 Thy glorious houfhold-ftuffe did me entwine. 
 
 And ’tice me unto thee. 
 
 Such ftarres I counted mine : both heav’n and earth 
 Payd me my wages in a world of mirth. 
 
 What pleafures could I want,whofe King I ferved ? 
 
 Where joyes my fellows were.' 
 Thus argu’d into hopes, my thoughts referved 
 No place for grief or fear. 
 Therefore my fudden foul caught at the place. 
 
 And made her youth and fiercenefie feek thy face. 
 
 At firft thou gav’ft me milk and fweetnefies ; 
 
 I had my wifh and way: 
 
 My dayes were ftraw’d with fiow’rs and happinefTe ; 
 
 There was no moneth but May. 
 But with my yeares forrow did twift and grow, 
 
 And made a partie unawares for wo. My 
 
39 
 
 The Church . 
 
 My flefh began unto my foul in pain, 
 
 SickneiTes cleave my bones ; 
 Confuming agues dwell in ev’ry vein, 
 
 And tune my breath to grones, 
 Sorrow was all my foul ; I fcarce beleeved, 
 
 Till grief did tell me roundly, that I lived. 
 
 When I got health,thou took’ ft away my life, 
 
 And more; for my friends die: 
 My mirth and edge was loft; a blunted knife 
 Was of more ufe then I. 
 
 Thus thinne and lean without a fence or friend, 
 
 I was blown through with ev’ry ftorm and winde. 
 
 Whereas my birth and fpirit rather took 
 
 The way that takes the town; 
 Thou didft betray me to a lingring book. 
 
 And wrap me in a gown. 
 
 I was entangled in the world of ftrife. 
 
 Before I had the power to change my life. 
 
 Yet, for I threatned oft the fiege to raife. 
 
 Not limpring all mine age. 
 Thou often didft with Academick praife 
 
 Melt and diftolve my rage. 
 
 I took thy fweetned pill, till I came neare; 
 
 I could not go away, nor perfevere. 
 
 Yet left perchance I Ihould too happie be 
 In my unhappinefte. 
 
 Turning my purge to food, thou throweft me 
 Into more fickneftes. 
 
 Thus doth thy power crofte-bias me, not making 
 Thine own gift good, yet me from my wayes taking. 
 
 Now 
 
40 The Church. 
 
 Now I am here, what thou wilt do with me 
 
 None of my books will fhow : 
 2 reade, and figh, and wifh I were a tree; 
 
 For fure then I fttould grow 
 To fruit or fhade: at leaf! fome bird would cruft 
 Her houfhold to me, and I fhould be juft. 
 
 Yet,though thou troubleft me, I muft be meek; 
 
 In weaknefle muft be ftout. 
 Well, I will change the fervice, and go feek 
 
 Some other mafter out* 
 
 Ah my deare God ! though I am clean forgot. 
 
 Let me not love thee, if I love thee not. 
 
 Repentance. 
 
 L Ord , Iconfefie my ftnne is great; 
 Great is my finne. Oh! gently treat 
 With thy quick flow’r, thy momentanie bloom; 
 
 Whofe life ftill prefting 
 Is one undrefling, 
 
 A fteadie aiming at a tombe. 
 
 Mans age is two houres work, or three: 
 
 Each day doth round about us fee. 
 
 Thus are we to delights : but we are all 
 To fo rrows old. 
 
 If life be told 
 
 From what life feeleth, Adams fall. 
 
 O let thy height of mercie then 
 Companionate fhort-breathed men. 
 
 Cut me not off for my moft foul transgrefiion 
 I do confefle 
 My foolifhnefle ; 
 
 My God, accept of my confeftion. 
 
 Sweeten 
 
Tb? Church. 41 
 
 Sweeten at length this bitter bowl. 
 
 Which thou hail pour’d into my foul; (ther: 
 Thy wormwood turn to health, windes to fair wea- 
 For if thou flay, 
 
 I and this day. 
 
 As we did rife, we die together. 
 
 When thou for finne rebukeft man, 
 
 Forthwith he waxethwoand wan: 
 
 Bitternefie fills our bowels ; all our hearts 
 Pine, and decay. 
 
 And drop away, 
 
 And carrie with them th’ other parts. 
 
 But thou wilt finne and grief deftroy; 
 
 That fo the broken bones may joy, 
 
 And tune together in a well-fet fong. 
 
 Full of his praifes. 
 
 Who dead men raifes. 
 
 Fradiures well cur’d make us more ftrong. 
 
 If Faith. 
 
 Lord, how couldft thou fo much appeafe 
 Tby wrath for finne, as when mans fight was dimme, 
 And could fee little, to regard his eafe, 
 
 And bring by Faith all things to him ? 
 
 Hungrie I was, and had no meat: 
 
 I did conceit a moft delicious feaft > 
 
 I had it ftraight, and did as truly eat, 
 
 As ever did a welcome gueft. 
 
 There is a rare outlandilhroot, 
 
 Which when I could not get, I thought it here : 
 
 That apprehenfion cur’d fo well my foot. 
 
 That I can walk to heav’n well neare. 
 
 I 
 
42 The Church. 
 
 I owed thoufands and much more: 
 
 I did beleeve that I did nothing owe, 
 
 And liv'd accordingly; my creditor 
 
 Beleeves fo too, and lets me go. 
 
 Faith makes me any thing, or all 
 That I beleeve is in the facred ftorie : 
 
 And where iinne placeth me in Adams fall. 
 
 Faith fets me higher in his glorie. 
 
 If I go lower in the book, 
 
 What can be lower then the common mangel 
 Faith puts me there with him, who fweetly took 
 
 Our flefh^and frailtie, death and danger. 
 
 If blifie had lien in art or ftrength. 
 
 None but the wife or flrong had gained it: 
 
 Where now by Faith all arms are of a length ; 
 
 One fize doth all conditions fit. 
 
 A peafant may beleeve as much 
 As a great Clerk, and reach the highefl ftature. 
 
 Thus doft thou make proud knowledge bend & crouch 
 
 While grace fills up uneven nature. 
 
 When creatures had no reall light 
 Inherent in them, thou didft make the funne* 
 
 Impute a luftre, and allow them bright; 
 
 • And in this fhew, what Chrift hath done. 
 
 That which before was darkned clean 
 With bufhie groves, pricking the lookers eie, 
 
 Vanifht away, when Faith did change the fccm: 
 
 And then appear'd a glorious skie. 
 
 What though my bodie runne to duftf 
 Faith cleaves unto it,counting evr'y grain 
 With an exadl and moft particular truft, 
 
 Referving all for flefh again. 
 
 Prayer. 
 
43 
 
 The Church. 
 
 Prayer. 
 
 P Rayer the Churches banquet, Angels age, 
 
 Gods breath in man returning to his birth. 
 
 The foul in paraphrafe, heart in pilgrimage. 
 The Chriftian plummet founding heav’n and earth ; 
 
 Engine againft th* Almightie, linners towre, 
 
 Reverfed thunder, Chrift-fide-piercing fpear. 
 The fix-daies world-tranfpofing in an houre, 
 
 A kinde of tune, which all things heare and fear; 
 
 Softnefie, and peace, and joy, and love, and blifle. 
 Exalted Manna, gladnefie of the belt, 
 
 Heayen in ordinarie,man well dreft. 
 
 The milkie way, the bird of Paradife, 
 
 ( blond, 
 
 Church-bels beyond the ftarres heard, the fouls 
 The land of fpices; fome thing underftood. 
 
 *[[ The H. Communion. 
 
 N Ot in rich furniture, or fine aray. 
 
 Nor in a wedge of gold. 
 
 Thou, who from me waft fold. 
 
 To medoftnow thyfelf convey; 
 
 For fo thou lhould’ft without me ftill have been. 
 Leaving within me finne: 
 
 But by the way of nourifhment and ftrengh 
 Thou creep’ft into my breaft; 
 Making thy way my reft. 
 
 And thy fmall quantities my length. 
 Which fpread their forces into every part. 
 Meeting finnes force and art. 
 
 Yet 
 
44 ¥he Church. 
 
 Yet can thefe not get over to my foul. 
 
 Leaping the wall that parts 
 Our fouls and flefhly hearts; 
 
 But as th’ outworks, they may controll 
 
 My rebel-flefh, and carrying thy name. 
 
 Affright both finne and fhame. 
 
 Onely thy grace, which with thefe elements comes, 
 Knoweth the ready way. 
 
 And hath the privie key, 
 
 Op’ning the fouls moll fubtile rooms ; 
 
 While thofe to fpirits refin'd, at doore attend 
 Difpatches from their friend. 
 
 Give me my captive foul , or take 
 My bodie alfo thither* 
 
 Another lift like this will make 
 Them both to be together. 
 
 Before that finne turn’d flefh to ftone. 
 And all our lump to leaven; 
 
 A fervent ligh might well have blown 
 Our innocent earth to heaven. 
 
 For fure when Adam did not know 
 To finne, or finne to fmother; 
 
 He might to heav’n from Paradife gn. 
 
 As from one room t’another. 
 
 Thou haft reftor’d us to this eafe 
 By this thy heav’nly bloud ; 
 
 Which I can go to, when I pleafe. 
 
 And leave th’ earth to their food. 
 
 % Antiphon. 
 
45 
 
 The Church. 
 
 Antiphon, 
 
 Cbo, T Et allthe world in ev’ry corner fing, 
 
 JL/ My God and King . 
 
 Vers . The heav’ns are not too high, 
 Hispraife may thither flie: 
 
 The earth is not too low , 
 
 His praifes there may grow, 
 
 Cbo . Let all the world in ev’ry corner fing. 
 
 My G0</ 
 
 V ers , The church with pfalms mull (hour „ 
 No doore can keep them out: 
 
 But above all, the heart 
 Mull bear the longeft part, 
 
 Cbo . Let all the world in ev’ry corner fing. 
 
 My God and King. 
 
 Love I. 
 
 I Mmortall Love,authour of this great frame. 
 
 Sprung from that beautie which can never fade; 
 How hath man parcel’d out thy glorious name. 
 And thrown it on that dull which thou haft made. 
 
 While mortall love doth all the title gain! 
 
 Which fidingwith invention, they together 
 Bear all the fway , poffefling heart and brain, 
 
 (Thy workmanfhip) and give thee fhare in neither. 
 
 Wit 
 
46 The Church. 
 
 Wit fancies beautie, beau tie raifeth wit: 
 
 The world is theirs; they two play out the game. 
 Thou Handing by : and though thy glorious name 
 Wrought our deliverance from th’ infernall pit, 
 
 Who fings thy praifePonely a skarf or glove (love. 
 Doth warm our hands , and make them write of 
 
 11. 
 
 I Mmortall Heat, O let thy greater flame 
 Attraft the lefler to it: letthofe fires. 
 
 Which fhall confume the world, firfl make it tame; 
 And kindle in our hearts fuch true defires. 
 
 As may confume our lulls , and make thee way. 
 
 Then fhall our hearts pant thee;then fhall our brain 
 All her invention on thine Altar lay. 
 
 And there in hymnes fend back thy fire again : 
 
 Our eies fhall fee thee, which before faw dull; 
 
 Dull blown by wit, till that they both were biinde : 
 Thou fhalt recover all thy goods in kinde. 
 
 Who wert difleized by ufurping lull: 
 
 All knees fhall bow to thee; all wits fhall rife. 
 
 And praife him who did make and mend our eies. 
 
 The Temper. 
 
 H Ow fhould I praife thee , Lord ! how fhould my 
 Gladly engrave thy love in fleel, (rymes 
 If what my foul doth feel fometimes. 
 
 My foul might ever feel ! 
 
 Al- 
 
The Church. 47 
 
 Although there were Tome fourtie heav’n3,or more. 
 Sometimes I peere above them all ; 
 
 Sometimes I hardly reach a fcore, 
 
 Sometimes to hell I fall. 
 
 O rack me not to fuch a vaft extent; 
 
 Thofe diftances 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 doft ftretch 
 A crumme of dull from heav’n to hell? 
 
 Will great God meafure with a wretch? 
 
 Shall he thy ftature fpell? ; 
 
 O let me, when thy roof my foul hath hid, 
 
 Olet merooftand neftle there: 
 
 Then of a finner thou art rid , 
 
 And I of hope and fear. 
 
 Yet take thy way ; for fure thy way is beft: 
 
 Stretch or contract me thy poore debter: 
 
 This is but tuning of my breaft, 
 
 To make the mufick better. 
 
 Whether I flie with angels, fall with dull. 
 
 Thy hands made both,and I am there: 
 
 Thy power and love, my love and truft 
 Make one place ev’ry where. 
 
 The Temper. 
 
 I Tcaimotbe. Where is that mightiejoy, 
 Which juft now took up all my heart? 
 Lord, if thou muft needs ufe thy dart. 
 Save that , and me; or fin for both deftroy . 
 
 The 
 
The Church. 
 
 The grofser world Hands to thy word and art ; 
 But thy diviner world of grace 
 Thou fuddenly doll raife and race. 
 
 And ev’ry day a new Creatour art. 
 
 O fix thy chair of grace, that all my powers 
 May alfo fix their reverence: 
 
 F or when thou dofl depart from hence. 
 They grow unruly, and fit in thy bowers. 
 
 Scatter, or binde them all to bend to thee: 
 
 Though elements change, and heaven move, 
 Let not thy higher Court remove. 
 
 But keep a Handing Majeflie in me. 
 
 f Jordan. 
 
 W Ho fayes that fi&ions onely and falfe hair 
 
 Become a verfe? Is there in truth no beautie? 
 
 Is all good Hrudure in a winding flair? 
 
 May no lines paffe, except they do their dutie 
 Not to a true, but painted chair? 
 
 Is it no verfe, except enchanted groves 
 
 And Hidden arbours fhadow courfe-fpunne lines? 
 
 Mufl purling Hreams refrefh a lovers loves? 
 
 Mufl all be vail’d, while he that reades, divines. 
 Catching the fenfe at two removes? 
 
 Shepherds are honefl people 5 let them fing: 
 
 Riddle who lifl, for me, and pull for Prime: 
 
 X envie no mans nightingale or fpring; 
 
 Nbr let them punifh me with lofle of ryme. 
 
 Who plainly fay. My God , My King. 
 
 IT Employ- 
 
49 
 
 The Church . 
 Employment. 
 
 I F as a flow re doth fpread and die. 
 
 Thou wouldft extend me to Tome good. 
 Before I were by frofts extremitie 
 
 Nipt in the bud; 
 
 The fweetnefle and the praife were thine ; 
 But the extenflon and the room. 
 
 Which in thy garland I fhould fill, were mine 
 At thy great doom. 
 
 For as thou doft impart thy grace. 
 
 The greater ftiall our glorie be. 
 
 The meafure of our joyesis in this place. 
 
 The fluffe with thee. 
 
 Let me not languifh then, and fpend 
 A life as barren to thy praife. 
 
 As is the duft,to which that life doth tend, 
 
 But withdelaies. 
 
 All things are bufie; onely I 
 Neither bring hony with the bees. 
 
 Nor flowres to make that, nor the husbandrie 
 To water thefe. 
 
 I am no link of thy great chain, 
 
 But all my companie is a weed. 
 
 Lord place me in thy confortjgive one firain 
 To my poore reed. 
 
 c 
 
 IF The 
 
5 ° 
 
 The Church. 
 
 The H. Scriptures. I. 
 
 O H Book ! infinite fweetnefle let my heart ! 
 
 Suck ev’ry letter, and a hony gain. 
 
 Precious for any grief in any part ; 
 
 To clcare the bread, to mollifie all pain. 
 
 Thou art all health, health thriving, till it make 
 A full eternitie: thou art a mafle 
 Of drange delights, where we may wifli & take. 
 Ladies, look here ; this is the thankfull glafse. 
 
 That mends the lookers eyes: this is the well 
 
 That walhes what it fhows. Who can indeare 
 Thy praile too much? thou art heav’ns Lidger 
 Working againd the dates of death and hell. ( here. 
 
 Thou art joyes handfelkheav’n lies flat in thee, 
 Subjed to ev’ry mounters bended knee. 
 
 ii. 
 
 O H that I knew how all thy lights combine. 
 And the configurations of their glorie ! 
 Seeing not onely how each verfe doth fhine. 
 But all the condellations of the florie. 
 
 This verfe marks that, and both do make a motion 
 Unto a third, that ten leaves ofFdoth lie: 
 Then as difperfed herbs do watch a potion, 
 Thefe three make up fome Chridians dedinie 
 
 Such 
 
The Church. 5 1 
 
 Such are thy fecrets, which my life makes good. 
 
 And comments on thee: for in ev’ry thing 
 Thy words do finde me out, & parallels bring. 
 And in another make me underftood. 
 
 Starres are poore books, & oftentimes do mifse: 
 This book of ftarres lights to eternall blifse. 
 
 WJi.1 xmm rjBH U KJJK * - min r "-iw iiiim i ii 11 1 i mfi i — — p — i mm nn . 
 
 Whitfunday. 
 
 L Iften fweet Dove unto my fong. 
 
 And fpread thy golden wings in me ; 
 
 Hatching my tender heart fo long. 
 
 Till it get wing, and flie away with thee. 
 
 Where is that fire which once defcended 
 On thy Apoftles? thou didft then 
 Keep open houfe , richly attended, 
 
 Feafting all comers by twelve chofen men. 
 
 Such glorious gifts thou didft beftow, 
 
 That th’ earth did like a heav'n appeare ; 
 
 The ftarres were coming down to know 
 If they might mend their wages, and ferve here. 
 
 The funne, which once did fhine alone, 
 
 Hung down his head, and wifht for night, 
 
 When he beheld twelve funnes for one 
 Going about the world, and giving light. 
 
 But fince thofe pipes of gold, which brought 
 That cordiall water to our ground, 
 
 Were cut and martyr’d by the fault 
 Of thofe, who did themfelves through their fide wound 
 
 C 2 Thou 
 
52 The Church. 
 
 Thou fhutt’fl the doore,and keep’ll within ; 
 Scarce a good joy creeps through the chink: 
 And if the braves, of conqu’ring fipne 
 Did not excite thee, we fhould wholly fink. 
 
 Lord,though we change, thou art the fame ; 
 The fame fweet God of love and light: 
 Rellore this day, for thy great name. 
 
 Unto his ancient and miraculous right. 
 
 ■■ , r« In . m m n , -m ii n fc f 
 
 Grace. 
 
 M Y flock lies dead, and no increafe 
 Doth my dull husbandrie improve: 
 
 O let thy graces without ceafe 
 
 Drop from above! 
 
 If ftill the funne fhould hide his face. 
 
 Thy houfe would but a dungeon prove, 
 
 Thy works nights captives: O let grace 
 Drop froni above ! 
 
 The dew doth ev’ry morning fall ; 
 
 And fhall the dew out-flrip thy dove? 
 
 The dew,for which graffe cannot call, 
 
 Drop from above. 
 
 Death is flill working like a mole, 
 Anddigsmy grave at each remove : 
 
 Let grace work too, and on my foul 
 
 Drop from above. 
 
 Sinne is flill hammering my heart 
 Unto a hardnefle, void of love: 
 
 Let fuppling grace, to crofie his art. 
 
 Drop from above. 
 
 G 
 
53 
 
 The Church. 
 
 O come ! for thou doft know the way. 
 
 Or if to me thou wilt not move, 
 
 Remove me, where I need not fay. 
 
 Drop from above. 
 
 f Praife. 
 
 T O write a verfe or two, is all the praife. 
 
 That I can raife: 
 
 Mend my eftate in any wayes. 
 
 Thou {halt 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 weakneffe; there is no fuch thing 
 As Prince or King: 
 
 His arm is {hort ; y£t with a (ling 
 He may do more. 
 
 An herb deftilPd,and drunk,may dwell next doore, 
 On the fame floore. 
 
 To a brave foul: Exalt the poore, 
 They can do more. 
 
 O raife me then! poore bees, that work all day, 
 Sting my delay, 
 
 Who have a work, as well as they. 
 And much, much more. 
 
 5T Affliction. 
 
 Km me not ev’ry day, 
 Thou Lord of life ; fince thy one death for me 
 Is more then all my deaths can be, 
 Though I in broken pay 
 Die over each houre of Methufalems flay. 
 
 C3 
 
 If 
 
54 Church . 
 
 If all mens tears were let 
 Into one common fewer , fea, and brine } 
 
 What were they all, compar’d to thine? 
 
 Wherein if they were fet, 
 They would difcolour thy moll bloudy fweat. 
 
 Thou art my grief alone, 
 Thou Lord conceal it not : and as thou art 
 All my delight, fo all my fmart: 
 
 Thy crofTe took up in one. 
 By way of impreil, all my future mone. 
 
 «[[ Mattens. 
 
 I 
 
 JL Cannot ope mine eyes, 
 
 But thou art ready there to catch 
 My morning-foul and facrifice: 
 
 Then we muft needs for that day make a match. 
 
 My God, what is a heart? 
 
 Silver, or gold, or precious hone, 
 
 Or ftarre, or rainbow, or a part 
 Of all thefe things, or all of them in one? 
 
 My God, what is a heart, 
 
 That thou Ihouldft it fo eye, and wooe, 
 Powringupon it all thy art, 
 
 As if that thou hadft nothing els to do? 
 
 Indeed mans whole eftate 
 Amounts (and richly) to ferve thee: 
 
 He did not heav’n and earth create, 
 
 Yet ftudies them, not him by whom they be. 
 
 Teach me thy love to know; 
 
 That this new light, which now I fee, 
 
 May both the work and workman Ihow: 
 Then by a funne-beam I will climbe to thee. 
 
 IT Sinnc 
 
55 
 
 “The Church. 
 
 T Sinne. 
 
 O That I could a finne once fee! 
 
 We paint the devil foul, yet he 
 Hath fome good in him, all agree. 
 Sinne is flat oppofite to th’ Almighty, feeing 
 It wants the good of vertue , and of being . 
 
 But God more care of us hath had : 
 
 If apparitions make us fad, 
 
 By fight of finne we ihould grow mad. 
 Yet asinfleepwe fee foul death, and live: 
 So devils are our finnes in perfpedtive. 
 
 Even-fong. 
 
 f^ Leil be the God of love. 
 Who gave me eyes, and light, and power this day. 
 Both to be bufie , and to play. 
 
 But much more bleft be God above, 
 
 Who gave me fight alone. 
 Which to himfelf he did denie : 
 
 For when he fees my waies, I dy: 
 
 But I have got his fonne, and he hath none. 
 
 What have I brought thee home 
 For this thy love ? have I difeharg’d the debt, 
 Which this dayes favour did beget? 
 
 I ranne;but all I brought, was fome. 
 
 Thy diet, care, and coll 
 Do end in bubbles, balls of winde ; 
 
 Of winde to thee whom I have croft, 
 
 But balls of wilde-fire to my troubled minde. 
 
 c 4 
 
 Yet 
 
56 The Church. 
 
 Yet ftill thou goeft on, 
 
 And now with darknefie clpfeft wearie eyes, 
 
 Saying to man, It doth Juffice : 
 Henceforth repofe;your work is done . 
 
 Thus in thy Ebony box 
 Thou doft inclofe us, till the day 
 Put our amendment in our way, 
 
 And give new wheels to our diforder’d clocks. 
 
 I mufe, which fhows 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 Tcapes thy breaft, 
 But brings a favour from above ; 
 
 And in this love, more then in bed, I reft. 
 
 Church-monuments. 
 
 W Hile that my foul repairs to her devotion, 
 Here I intombe my flefh, that it betime€ 
 May take acquaintance of this heap of duft ; 
 
 To which the blaft of deaths inceffant motion, 
 Fed with the exhalation of our crimes. 
 
 Drives all at Iaft. Therefore I gladly truft 
 
 My bodie to this fchool, that it may learn 
 To fpell his elements, and finde his birth 
 Written in duftie heraldrie and lines ; 
 
 Which diftolution fure doth beft difeern, 
 Comparing duft with duft, and earth with earth. 
 Thefe laugh at leaf, and Marble put for fignes, 
 
 To 
 
The Church . 57 
 
 To fever the good fellowfhip of duft, 
 
 And fpoil the meeting. What fhall point out them. 
 When they fhall bow, and kneel, and fall down flat 
 To kiffe thofe heaps, which now they have in truft? 
 Deare flefh, while I do pray, learn here thy ftemme 
 And true defeent; that when thou fhalt grow fat, 
 
 And wanton in thy cravings, thou mayft know. 
 
 That flefh is but the glaffe, which holds the dull 
 That meafures all our time ; which alfo fhall 
 Be crumbled into duft. Mark here below 
 How tame thefe afhes are, how free from lull, 
 
 That thou mayft fit thy felf againft thy fall. 
 
 «f[ Church-mufick. 
 
 S Weeteft of fvveets, I thank you: when difpleafure 
 Did through my bodie wound y minde, 
 You took me thence, and in your houfe of pleafure 
 A daintie lodging me aflign’d. 
 
 Now I in you without a bodie move, 
 
 Rifmg and falling with your wings : 
 
 Wc both together fweetly live and love, 
 
 Yet fay fometimes, God help poors Kings. 
 
 Comfort, ’lie die; for if you pofte from me, 
 
 Sure I fhall do fo, and much more: 
 
 But if I travell in your companie. 
 
 You know the way to heavens doore. 
 
 H Church-lock and key. 
 
 I Know it is my finne, which locks thine eares, 
 And bindes thy hands; 
 Out-crying my requefts, drowning my tears; 
 
 Or elfe the chilneffe of my faint demands. 
 
 C 5 
 
 But 
 
58 The Church. 
 
 But as cold hands are angrie with the fire, 
 
 And mend it ftill; 
 
 So I do lay the want of my defire, 
 
 Not on my finnes, or coldnefie, but thy will. 
 
 Yet heare, O God, onely for his blouds fake 
 
 Which pleads for me: 
 
 For though finnes plead too, yet like ftones they make 
 His blouds fweet current much more loud to be. 
 
 % The Church-floore. 
 
 M Ark you the floore?that fquare & fpeckled done. 
 Which looks fo firm and ftrong, 
 
 Is Patience : 
 
 And th’other black and grave, wherewith each one 
 Is checker’d all along, 
 
 Humilitie: 
 
 The gentle rifing, which on either hand 
 
 Leads to the Quire above. 
 
 Is Confidence: 
 
 But the fweet cement , which in one fure band 
 Ties the whole frame, is Love 
 And Charitie . 
 
 Hither fometimes Sinne deals, and ftaans 
 The marbles neat and curious veins: 
 
 But all is cleanfed when the marble weeps. 
 
 Sometimes Death , puffing at the doore, 
 Blows all the dull about the floore. 
 
 But while he thinks to fpoil the room, he fweeps. 
 
 Bled: be the Arcbiteft , whofe art 
 Could bu ildfo ftrong in a weak heart. 
 
 f The 
 
59 
 
 ' The Church. 
 
 IT The Windows. 
 
 L Ord, how can man preach thy eternall word ? 
 
 He is a brittle crazie glafle: 
 
 Yet in thy temple thou doft him afford 
 
 This glorious and tranfcendent place, 
 To be a window, through thy grace. 
 
 Bat when thou doft anneal in glafle thy ftorie, 
 Making thy life to fhine within 
 The holy Preachers; then the light and glorie 
 
 More rev’rend grows, Sc more doth win 
 Which elfe fhows watrifh,bleak, Sc thin 
 
 Doftrinc and life, col ours and light, in one 
 
 When they combine and mingle , bring 
 A ftrong regard and aw: but fpeech alone 
 
 Doth vanifh like a flaring thing, 
 
 And in the eare, not confcience ring. 
 
 Trinitie Sunday. 
 
 L Ord, who haft form’d me out of mud, 
 
 And haft redeem’d me through thy bloud. 
 
 And fan&ifi’d me to do good ; 
 
 Purge all my finnes done heretofore: 
 
 For I confefle my heavie fcore, 
 
 And I will ftrive to flnne no more. 
 
 Enrich my heart, mouth, hands in me , 
 
 With faith, with hope, with charitie; 
 
 That I may runne, rife, reft with thee. 
 
 * Con- 
 
60 The Church. 
 
 f Content. 
 
 P EaccmuttVing thoughts, and do not grudge to keep 
 Within the walls of your own breaft: 
 Who cannot on his own bed fweetly fleep, 
 
 Can on anothers hardly reft. 
 
 Gad not abroad at ev’ry queft and call 
 
 Of an untrained hope or paffion. 
 
 To court each place or fortune that doth fall, 
 
 Is wanton nefle in contemplation . 
 
 Mark how the fire in flints doth quiet lie. 
 
 Content and warm t* it felf alone : 
 
 But when it would appeare to others eye, 
 
 Without a knock it never fhone. 
 
 Give me the pliant minde, whofe gentle meafurc 
 Complies and fuits with all eftates ; 
 Which can let loofe to a crown, and yet with pleafure 
 Take up within a cloifters gates. 
 
 This foul doth fpan the world, and hang content 
 From either pole unto the centre : 
 
 Where in each room of the well-furnifht tent 
 
 He lies warm, and without adventure. 
 
 The brags of life are but a nine dayes wonder ; 
 
 And after death the fumes that fpring 
 From private bodies, make as big a thunder. 
 
 As thofe which rife from a huge King. 
 
 Oneiy thy Chronicle is loft; and yet 
 
 Better by worms be all once fpent , 
 
 Then to have hellilh moths ftill gnaw and fret 
 
 Thy name in books, which may not rent : 
 
 When 
 
The Church . 61 
 
 When all thy deeds, whofe brunt thou feel'll alone, 
 Are chaw’d by others pens and tongue; 
 And as their wit is, their digeftion. 
 
 Thy nourifht fame is weak or ftrong. 
 
 Then ceafe difcourfing foul, till thine own ground, 
 
 Do not thy felf or friends importune. 
 
 He that by feeking hath himfelf once found , 
 
 Hath euer found a happie fortune. 
 
 ^ The Quidditie. 
 
 M Y God, a verfe is not a crown, 
 No point of honour, or gay fuit. 
 No hawk, or banquet, or renown, 
 
 Nor a good fword, 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 liable or demain : 
 
 It is no office, art, or news. 
 
 Nor the Exchange, or bufie Hall; 
 
 But it is that which while I ufe 
 1 am with thee, and Moji take all. 
 
 Humilitie. 
 
 I Saw the Vertues fitting hand in hand 
 In fev’rall ranks upon an azure throne. 
 
 Where all the beafts and fowls by their command 
 Prefen ted tokens of fubmiffion. 
 
 Humilitie, who fat the lowell there 
 
 To execute their call, 
 
 W'hen by the beafts the prefents tendred were , 
 
 Gave them about to all. 
 
 The 
 
62 The Church. 
 
 The angrie Lion did prefent his paw, 
 
 Which by confent was giv’n to Manfuetude. 
 
 The fearfull Hare her eares, which by their law 
 Humilitiedid reach to Fortitude. 
 
 The jealous Turkie brought his corall-chain; 
 
 That went to Temperance. 
 On Juftice was bellow’d the Foxes brain, 
 
 Kill’d in the way by chance. 
 
 At length the Crow bringing the Peacocks 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 beafls efpied, 
 They leapt upon the throne; 
 And if the Fox had liv’d to rule their fide, 
 
 They had depos’d each one. 
 
 Humilitie, who held the plume, at this 
 Did weep fo fall, that the tears trickling down 
 Spoil’d all the train: then faying, Here it is 
 For which ye wrangle , made them turn their frown 
 Againll the beafls: fo joyntly bandying. 
 
 They drive them foon away; 
 And then amerc’d them, double gifts to bring 
 
 At the next Seflion-day. 
 
 Tf Frailtie. 
 
 L Ord, in my filence how do I defpife 
 What upon trull 
 
 Is llyled honour , riches , or fair eyes; 
 
 But is f air dufi l 
 I furname them guilded clay , 
 Hie are earth y fine grajje or hay ; 
 In all, I think my foot doth ever tread 
 
 Upon their head. 
 
The Church. 
 
 63 
 
 But when I view abroad both Regiments; 
 
 The worlds, and thine: 
 Thine clad with fimpleneife, and fad events; 
 
 The other fine. 
 
 Full of glorie and gay weeds. 
 
 Brave language, braver deeds: 
 
 That which was dull before , doth quickly rife. 
 And prick mine eyes, 
 
 O brook not this, left if what even now 
 My foot did tread. 
 
 Affront thofe joyes, wherewith thou didff endow. 
 And long fince wed 
 My poore foul, ev’n fick of love: 
 
 It may a Babel prove 
 Commodious to conquer heav’n and thee 
 Planted in me. 
 
 He that doth {till and ftrongly good purfue, 
 
 To God, his neighbour, and himfelf moft true: 
 Whom neither force nor fawning can 
 Unpinne, or wrench from giving all their due. 
 
 So loofe or eafie, that a ruffling winde 
 Can blow away, or glittering look it blinde: 
 
 Who rides his fure and even trot. 
 
 While the world now rides by, now lags behinde. 
 
 If Conftancie. 
 
 ’ 0 is the honeft man? 
 
 Whofe honeftie is not 
 
 Who 
 
64 The Church. 
 
 Who, when great trials come, 
 
 Nor feeks, i\or fhunnes them; but doth calmly ftay, 
 Till he the thing and the example weigh: 
 
 All being brought into a fumme, 
 
 What place or pcrfon calls for, he doth pay. 
 
 Whom none can work or wooc 
 To ufe in any thing a trick or Height; 
 
 For above all things he abhorres deceit: 
 
 His words and works and fafhion too 
 Ail of a piece, and all are cleare and ftraight. 
 
 Who never melts or thaws 
 At clofe tentations: when the day is done. 
 
 His goodnefie fets not, but in dark can runner 
 The funne to others writeth laws. 
 
 And is their vertue; Vertue is his Sunne. 
 
 Who, when he is to treat 
 
 With lick folks, women, thofe whom paihonsfway, 
 Allows for that, and keeps his conftant 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 limbes, and fhare, not mend the ill. 
 
 This is the Mark-man, fafe and fure, 
 
 Who Hill is right, and prayes to be fo Hill. 
 
 Affli&ion. 
 
 M Y heart did heave, and there came forth, O Godl 
 By that I knew that thou waft in the grief, 
 
 To guide and govern it to my relief, 
 
 Making a fcepter of the rod: 
 
 Hadft thou not had thy part, 
 
 Sure the unruly figh had broke my heart. 
 
The Church. 65 
 
 But fince thy breath gave me both life and (hape, 
 Thou knowft my tallies; and when there’s aflign’d 
 So much breath to a figh, what’s then behinde? 
 
 Or if fome yeares with it efcape, 
 
 The figh then onely is 
 A gale to bring me fooner to my bliffe. 
 
 Thy life on earth was grief, and thou art ftill 
 Conftant unto it, making it to be 
 A point of honour, now to grieve in me, 
 
 And in thy members fufFer ill. 
 
 They who lament one croffe, 
 
 Thou dying dayly, praile thee to thy loife. 
 
 V The Starre. 
 
 B Right fpark, (hot from a brighter place, 
 Where beams furround my Saviours face, 
 Canft thou be any where 
 Sowell as there? 
 
 Yet, if thou wilt from thence depart, 
 
 Take a bad lodging in my heart; 
 
 For thou canft make a debter, 
 
 And make it better. 
 
 Firftwith thy fire- work burn toduft 
 Folly, and worfe then folly, luft: 
 
 Then with thy light refine, 
 
 And make it fhine: 
 
 So difengag’d from finne and fickneffe, 
 Touchit with thyceleftiall quickneffe, 
 
 That it may hang and move 
 After thy love. 
 
 Then 
 
66 
 
 The Church. 
 
 Then with our trinitie of light, 
 
 Moticsn, and heat, let’s take our flight 
 ■Qnto the place where thou 
 Before didft bow. 
 
 Get me a Handing there, and place 
 
 Among the beams, which crown the face 
 Of him, who dy’d to part 
 Sinne and my heart: 
 
 That fo among the reft I may 
 
 Glitter, and curie, and winde as they: 
 That winding is their falhion 
 Of adoration. 
 
 Sure thou wilt joy, by gaining me 
 Toflie home like a laden bee 
 Unto that hive of beams 
 And garland-ftreams. 
 
 f Sunday. 
 
 O Day moll calm, moll bright, 
 The fruit of this, the next worlds bud, 
 Th’ indorfement of fupreme delight. 
 Writ by a friend, and with his bloud; 
 The couch of time; cares balm and bay: 
 The week were dark, but for thy light: 
 Thy torch doth (how the way. 
 
 The 
 
The Church. 
 
 67 
 
 The other dayes and thou 
 Make up one man; whole 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 fioup and bow. 
 Till thy releafe appeare. 
 
 Man had firaight forward gone 
 To endielTe death: but thou doll: pull 
 And turn us round to look on one. 
 Whom, if we were not very dull, 
 
 Wc could not choofe but look on ftill; 
 Since there is no place fo alone, 
 
 The which he dothnot fill. 
 
 Sundaies the pillars are, 
 
 On which heav’ns palace arched lies: 
 
 The other dayes fill up the fpare 
 And hollow room with vanities. 
 
 They are the fruitfull beds and borders 
 In Gods rich garden*, that is bare, 
 
 Which parts their ranks and orders. 
 
 The Sundaies of mans life, 
 Thredded together on times firing, 
 Make bracelets to adorn the wife 
 Of the eternall glorious King. 
 
 On Sunday heavens gate ftands ope; 
 Blefiings are plentifull and rife, 
 
 More plentifull then hope. 
 
 This 
 
68 
 
 The Church. 
 
 This day my Saviour rofe, 
 
 A nd did indofe this light for his: 
 
 That, as each beaft his manger knows, 
 
 Man might not of his fodder mifse. 
 
 Chrift hath took in this piece of ground, 
 And made a garden there for thofe 
 
 Who want herbs for their wound. 
 
 The reft of our Creation 
 Our great Redeemer did remove 
 With the fame (hake, which at his pafSon 
 Did th’ earth and all things with it move. 
 
 As Samfon bore the doores away, 
 
 Chrifts hands, though nail’d, wrought our falvation. 
 And did unhinge that day. 
 
 The brightnefse of that day 
 We fullied by our foul offence: 
 
 Wherefore that robe we caft away, 
 
 Having a new at his expence, 
 
 Whofe drops of bloud paid the full price. 
 
 That was requir’d to make us gay. 
 
 And fit for Paradife. 
 
 Thou art a day of mirth: 
 
 And where the week-dayes trail on ground, 
 
 Thy flight is higher, as thy birth. 
 
 O let me take thee at the bound. 
 
 Leaping with thee from fev’n to fev’n, 
 
 Till that we both, being tofs’d from earth, 
 
 Flie hand in hand to heav’n! 
 
 T Avarice. 
 
The Church. 69 
 
 T Avarice. 
 
 M Oney, thou bane of bli!Te,& fourfeof wo, (fine? 
 Whence corn’ll thou, that thou artfo frelh and 
 I know thy parentage is bafe and low : 
 
 Man found thee poore and dirtie in a mine. 
 
 Surely thou didll fo little contribute 
 
 To this great kingdome, which thou now hall got, 
 That he was fain, when thou wert dellitute, 
 
 To digge thee out of thy dark cave and grot: 
 
 Then forcing thee, by fire he made thee bright: 
 
 Nay, thou hall got the face of man; for we 
 Have with our llamp and feal transferred our right: 
 Thou art the man, and man but drolfe to thee. 
 
 Man calleth thee his wealth, who made thee rich; 
 And while he digs out thee, falls in the ditch. 
 
 j C Mary } 
 
 A « a -\ Army 
 
 H Ow well her name an Army doth prefent, 
 
 In whom the Lord of bofts did pitch his tent! 
 
 T To all Angels and Saints. 
 
 O H glorious fpirits,who after all your bands 
 See the fmooth face of God, without a frown 
 Or llridl commands; 
 
 Where ev’ry one is king, and hath his crown, 
 
 If not upon his head , yet in his hands: 
 
 Not 
 
7 o The Church. 
 
 Not out of envie or malicioufnefle 
 Do I forbear to crave your fpeciall aid: 
 
 I would addrefle 
 
 My vows to thee mod gladly, blefled Maid, 
 
 And Mother of my God, in my diftrefle. 
 
 Thou art the holy mine, whence came the gold, 
 The great reftorative for all decay 
 
 In young and old; 
 
 Thou art the cabinet where the jewell lay: 
 
 Chiefly to thee would I my foul unfold: 
 
 But now (alas! ) I dare not; for our King, 
 
 Whom we do all joyntly adore and praife, 
 
 Bids no fuch thing: 
 
 And where his pleafure no injun&ion layes, 
 
 ( ’Tis your own cafe) ye never move a wing. 
 
 All worfhip is prerogative, and a flower 
 Of his rich crown, from whom lyes no appeal 
 At the laffc houre: 
 
 Therefore we dare not from his garland fteal, 
 
 To make a pofie for inferiour power. 
 
 Although then others court you, if ye know 
 What’s done on earth, we lhall not fare the worfe, 
 Who do notfo; 
 
 Since we are ever ready to disburfe. 
 
 If any one our Mailers hand can Ihow. 
 
 *| Employment. 
 
 H E that is weary, let him lit. 
 
 My foul would llirrc 
 And trade incourtefies and wit. 
 
 Quitting the furre 
 
 To cold complexions needing it. Man 
 
The Church. 7 1 
 
 Man is noftarre,but a quick coal 
 Of mortall fire: 
 
 Who blows it not, nor doth controll 
 A faint defire, 
 
 Lets his own afhes choke his foul. 
 
 Whenth’ elements did for place con teft 
 With him, whofe will 
 Ordain’d the higheft to be beft; 
 
 The earth fat ftill, 
 
 And by the others is oppreft. 
 
 Life is a bufineife, not good cheer; 
 
 Ever in warres. 
 
 The funne ftill fhineth there or here. 
 
 Whereas the ftarres 
 Watch an advantage to appearc. 
 
 Oh that I were an Orenge-tree, 
 
 That bufie plant! 
 
 Then fhould I ever laden be. 
 
 And never want 
 Some fruit for him that dreffed me. 
 
 But we are ftill too young or old ; 
 
 The man is gone, 
 
 Before we do our wares unfold: 
 
 So we freeze on, 
 
 Untill the grave increafe our cold. 
 
 1 Deniall. 
 
 ^THen my devotions could not pierce 
 Thyfilent eares; 
 
 Then was my heart broken, as was my verfe: 
 
 My breaft was full of fears 
 
 Anddiforder: My 
 
72 ’The Church. 
 
 ’My bent thoughts, like a brittle bow, 
 Did flie afunder : 
 
 Each took his way; fome would to pleafures go, 
 Some to the warres and thunder 
 Of alarms. 
 
 As good go any where, they lay, 
 
 As tobenumme 
 
 Both knees and heart, in crying night and day, 
 Come, come y my God , O come y 
 But no hearing. 
 
 O that thou Ihouldlt give dull a tongue 
 Tc crie to thee. 
 
 And then not heare it crying! all day long 
 My heart was in my knee , 
 
 But no hearing. 
 
 Therefore my foul lay out of light. 
 
 Untun’d, unllrung: 
 
 My feeble fpirit, unable to look right, 
 
 Like a nipt blolfome,hung 
 Difcontented. 
 
 O cheer and tune my heartlelfe breaft, 
 Deferre no time; 
 
 That fo thy favours granting my requeft, 
 
 They and my minde may chime. 
 And mend my ryme. 
 
 5 [ Chriftmas. 
 
 A LI after pleafures as I rid one day, 
 
 My horfe and I, both tir’d, bodie and minde, 
 With full crie of affedions, quite allray; 
 
 I took up in the next inne I could iinde. 
 
 There 
 
The Church. 73 
 
 There when I came, whom found I but my deare, 
 
 My deareft Lord, expe&ing till the grief 
 Of pleasures brought me to him, readie there 
 To be all paflengers moll fweet relief? 
 
 O Thou, whofe glorious, yetcontradled light, 
 
 Wrapt in nights mantle, Hole into a manger; 
 Since my dark foul and brutifh is thy right, 
 To Man of all bealts be not thou aftranger: 
 
 Furnilh & deck my foul, that thou mayft have 
 A better lodging, then a rack, or grave. 
 
 T He fhepherds ling; and fhall I filent be? 
 
 My God, no hymne for thee? 
 
 My foul’s a (hepherd too; a flock it feeds 
 
 Of thoughts, and words, and deeds* 
 The pafture is thy word: the ftreams,thy grace 
 Enriching all the place. 
 
 Shepherd and flock lhall flng, and all my powers 
 Out-flng the day-light houres. 
 
 Then we will chide the funne for letting night 
 Take up his place and right: 
 
 We fing one common Lord; wherefore he (hould 
 Himfelf the candle hold. 
 
 I will go fearching, till I finde a funne 
 
 Shall flay, till we have done; 
 
 A willing (hiner, that (hall (hine as gladly, 
 
 As froft-nipt funnes look fadly. 
 
 Then we will fing, and (hine all our own day, 
 
 And one another pay : 
 
 His beams (hall cheer my bread, and both fo twine. 
 Till ev’n his beams fing, and my mufick (hine. 
 
 D 1 Un- 
 
74 
 
 The Church. 
 
 ^ Ungratefulnefle. 
 
 Ord, with what bountie and rare clemencie 
 
 Haft thou redeem’d us from the grave ! 
 
 If thou had ft let us runne, 
 Gladly had man ador’d the funne. 
 And thought his god moft brave; 
 
 Where now we (hall be better gods then he. 
 Thou haft but two rare cabinets full of treafure, 
 
 Unto thy felf in everlafting pleafure. 
 The ftatelier cabinet is the Trinitie , 
 
 Whofe fparkling light accefle denies: 
 Therefore thou doft not fhow 
 This fully to us, till death blow 
 The duft into our eyes: 
 
 For by that powder thou wilt make us fee. 
 
 But all thy fweets are packt up in the other; 
 
 Thy mercies thither flock and flow: 
 That as the firft affrights, 
 
 This may allure us with delights; 
 Becaufe this box we know ; 
 For we have all of usjuftfuch another. 
 
 But man is clofe, referv’d, and dark to thee : 
 
 When thou demanded but a heart. 
 He cavils inftantly. 
 
 In his poore cabinet of bone 
 
 Sinnes have their box apart, 
 Defrauding thee, who gaveft two for one. 
 
 The Trinitie , and Incarnation: 
 
 Thou haft unlockt them both. 
 
 And made them jewels to betroth 
 The work of thy creation 
 
 Sighs 
 
The Church. 75 
 
 Sighs and Grones. 
 
 O Do not ufe me 
 After my finnes ! look not on my defert. 
 
 But on thy glorie ! then thou wilt reform 
 And not refufe me : for thou onely art 
 The mightie God, but I a fillie worm; 
 
 O do not bruife me ! 
 
 O do not urge me ! 
 
 For what account can thy ill fteward make ? 
 
 I have abus’d thy ftock, deftroy’d thy woods, 
 
 Suckt all thy magazens: my head did ake. 
 
 Till it found out how to confume thy goods : 
 
 O do not fcourge me ! 
 
 Odo not blinde me! 
 
 I have deferv’d that an Egyptian night 
 Should thicken all my powers; becaufe my lull 
 Hath Hill fow’d fig-leaves to exclude thy light: 
 
 But I am frailtie,and already duft; 
 
 O do not grinde me ! 
 
 O do not fill me 
 
 With the turn’d viall of thy bitter wrath ! 
 
 For thou haft other veffels full of bloud, 
 
 A part whereof my Saviour empti’d hath, 
 
 Ev’n unto death : fince he di’d for my good , 
 
 O do not kill me ! 
 
 But O reprieve me! 
 
 For thou haft life and death at thy command; 
 
 Thou art both Judge and Saviour, feaft and rod \ 
 Cordiall and Corrojive : put not thy hand 
 Into the bitter box; but O my God, 
 
 My God, relieve me! 
 
 * D 2 ^ The 
 
7 6 
 
 The Church. 
 
 1 The World. 
 
 L Ove built a {lately houfe; where Fortune came. 
 And {pinning phanfies, Ihe was heard to fay. 
 That her fine cobwebs did fupport the frame, 
 Whereas they were fupported by the fame: 
 
 But Wifdome quickly fwept them all away. 
 
 Then Pleafure came, who liking not the fafhion. 
 Began to make Bale ones. Terraces , 
 
 Till {he had weakned 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, 
 
 Whofe leaves firft Iheltred man from drought & dew. 
 Working and winding flily evermore, 
 
 The inward walls and Sommers cleft and tore: 
 
 But Grace Ihor’d thefe, and cut that as it grew. 
 
 Then Sinne combin’d with 'Death in a firm band 
 To rafe the building to the very floore : 
 
 Which they effe&ed, none could them withlland. 
 But Love and Grace took Glorie by the hand, 
 
 And built a braver Palace then before. 
 
 Coloff. 
 
The Church. 77 
 
 ColofT. 3. 3. 
 
 Our life is hid with Chrifl in God. 
 
 \/rr words & thoughts do both exprefle this notion, 
 1V1 That Life hath with the fun a double motion. 
 The firft Is ftraight, and our diurnall friend. 
 The other Hid , and doth obliquely bend. 
 One life is wrapt In fleih, and tends to earth. 
 The other winds towards Him , whofe happie birth 
 Taught me to live here fo , That ftill one eye 
 Should aim and (hoot at that which Is on high: 
 Quitting with daily labour all My pleafure , 
 To gain at harveft an eternall Treafure . 
 
 ^ Vanitie. 
 
 JL' He fleet Aftronomer can bore, 
 
 And thred the fpheres with his quick-piercing minde: 
 He views their fiations, walks from doore to doore, 
 Surv'eys, as if he had defign’d 
 To make a purchafe there: he fees their dances. 
 
 And knoweth long before. 
 
 Both their full-ey’d afpe&s, and fecret glances. 
 
 The nimble Diver with his fide 
 Cuts through the working waves, that he may fetch 
 His dearely-earned pearl, which God did hide 
 On purpofe from the ventrous wretch; 
 That he might fave his life, and alfo hers, 
 
 Who with exceflive pride 
 Her own deftru&ion and his danger wears. 
 
 d 3 
 
 The 
 
78 
 
 1 The Church. 
 
 The fubtil Chymick can deveft 
 And ftrip the creature naked, till he finde 
 The callow principles within their neft : 
 
 There he imparts to them his minde, 
 Admitted to their bed-chamber, before 
 
 They appeare trim and dreft 
 To ordinarie fuitours at the doore. 
 
 What hath not man fought out and found, 
 But his deare God? who yet his glorious law 
 Embofomes in us, mellowing the ground 
 
 With fhowres and froits, with love & aw. 
 So that we need not fay. Where’s this command f 
 Poore man, thou fearcheft round 
 To finde out death , but miffed life at hand . 
 
 Lent. 
 
 W Elcome deare feaft of Lent: who loves not thee. 
 He loves not Temperance, or Authoritie, 
 
 But is compos’d of pafiion. 
 
 The Scriptures bid us faft\ the Church fayes, now : 
 Give to thy Mother,what thou wouldfi allow 
 To ev’ry Corporation. 
 
 The humble foul compos’d of love and fear 
 Begins at home, and layes the burden there. 
 
 When do&rines difagree. . 
 
 He fayes,in things which ufe hath juftly got, 
 
 I am a fcandall to the Church, and not 
 
 The Church is fo to me. 
 
 True 
 
79 
 
 The Church. 
 
 True Chriftians fhould be glad of an occafion 
 To ufe their temperance, feeking no evafion, 
 
 When good is feafonablej 
 UnlefTe Authoritie,which fhould increafe 
 The obligation in us ,make it lefte. 
 
 And Power it felf difable. 
 
 Befides the cleannefle of fweet abftinence. 
 
 Quick thoughts and motions at a fmall expenfe, 
 
 A face not fearing light: 
 
 Whereas in fulnelfe there are fluttifh fumes, 
 
 Sowre exhalations, and difhoneft rheumes, 
 Revenging the delight. 
 
 Then thofe fame pendant profits, which the fpring 
 
 And Eafter intimate, enlarge the thing, 
 
 And goodneffeof the deed. 
 
 Neither ought other mens abufe of Lent 
 
 Spoil the good ufe; left by that argument 
 
 We forfeit all our Creed. 
 
 * 
 
 It’s true, we cannot reach Chrifts forti’th day; 
 
 Yet to go part of that religious way, 
 
 Is better then to reft: 
 
 We cannot reach our Saviours puritie; 
 
 Yet are we bid, Be holy ev'n as he. 
 
 In both let’s do our beft. 
 
 Who goeth in the way which Chrift hath gone, 
 
 Is much more fure 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 ftrengthen my decayes. 
 
 D 4 
 
 Yet 
 
. ' > A • ' ' ' • > 
 
 80 The Church . 
 
 Yet Lord inflrudl us to improve our fall 
 By ilarving finne and taking fuch repail, 
 
 As may our faults controll: 
 
 That ev’ry man may revell at his doore, 
 
 Not in his parlour; banquetting the poore, 
 
 A nd among thofe his foul. 
 
 IT Vertue. 
 
 S Weet day,fo cool, fo calm, fo bright. 
 
 The bridall of the earth and skie: 
 
 The dew fhall weep thy fall to night; 
 
 For thou mull die. 
 
 Sweet rofe, whofe hue angrie and brave 
 Bids the raftt gazer wipe his eye: 
 
 Thy root is ever in its grave. 
 
 And thou mull die. 
 
 Sweet fpring,full of fweet dayes and rofes, 
 A box where fweets compared lie; 
 
 My mufick (hows ye have your clofes. 
 
 And all mud die. 
 
 Onely a fweet and vertuous foul. 
 
 Like feafon’d timber, never gives; 
 
 But though the whole world turn to coal, 
 Then chiefly lives. 
 
 1 T he 
 
The Church . 
 
 81 
 
 f The Pearl. Matth. 13. 
 
 I Know the wayes of learning; both the head 
 And pipes that feed the preffe, and make it runne; 
 What reafon hath from nature borrowed. 
 
 Or of it felf, like a good hufwife, fpunne 
 In laws and policie; what the flarres confpire, 
 
 What willing nature fpeaks, what forc’d by fire; 
 
 Both th* old difeoveries, and the new-found leas, 
 The flock and furplus, caufe and hiflorie: 
 
 All thefe Hand open, or I have the keyes; 
 
 Yet I love thee. 
 
 I know the wayes of honour, what maintains 
 The quick returns of courtefie and wit: 
 
 In vies of favours whether partie gains, 
 
 When glorie fwells the heart, and moldeth it 
 To all expreffions both of hand and eye, 
 
 Which on the world a true-love-knot may tie, 
 
 And bear the bundle, wherefoe’re it goes: 
 
 How many drammes of fpirit there mull be 
 To fell my life unto my friends or foes: 
 
 Yeti love thee. 
 
 I know the wayes of pleafure, the fweet drains, 
 
 The lullings and the relifhes of it; 
 
 The proportions of hot bloud and brains; 
 
 What mirth and mufick mean; what love and wit 
 Have done thefe twentie hundred yeares, and more: 
 
 I know the projects of unbridled ilore: 
 
 My fluffe is flefh, not braffe; my fenfes live, 
 
 And grumble oft, that they have more in me 
 Then he that curbs them, being but one to five: 
 
 Yet I love thee. 
 
 d s 
 
 1 
 
82 Tihe Church. 
 
 I know all thefe, and have them in my hand: 
 Therefore not fealed, but with open eyes 
 I flie to thee, and fully underftand 
 Both the main fale, and the commodities; 
 
 And at what rate and price I have thy love; 
 
 With all the circumftances that may move: 
 
 Yet through the labyrinths, not my groveling wk, 
 But thy filk twift let down from heav’n to me, 
 Did both conduct and teach me, how by it 
 To climbe to thee. 
 
 IT Affliction. 
 
 B Roken in pieces all afunder. 
 
 Lord, hunt me not, 
 
 A thing forgot. 
 
 Once a poore creature, now a wonder, 
 
 A wonder tortur’d in the fpace 
 Betwixt this world and that of grace. 
 
 My thoughts are all a cafe of knives. 
 
 Wounding my heart 
 With fcatter’d fmart, 
 
 4s w&tring pots give flowers their lives* 
 
 Nothing their furie can controll. 
 
 While they do wound and prick my foul. 
 
 All my attendants are at ftrife, 
 
 Quitting their place 
 Unto my face: 
 
 Nothing performs the task of life: 
 
 The elements are let loofe to fight, 
 
 And while I live, trie out their right. 
 
 Oh 
 
83 
 
 The Church . 
 
 Oh help, my God! let not their plot 
 Kill them and me. 
 
 And alfo thee, 
 
 Who art my life: difiolve the knot, 
 
 As the funne fcatters by his light 
 All the rebellions of the night. 
 
 Then (hall thofe powers, which work for grief, 
 Enter thy pay. 
 
 And day by day 
 
 Labour thy praife, 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 (lately habitation. 
 
 But he that means to dwell therein. 
 
 What houfe more (lately hath there been. 
 
 Or can be, then is Man? to whofe creation 
 All things are in decay. 
 
 For Man is ev’ry thing, 
 
 And more: He is a tree, yet bears no fruit; 
 
 A bead, yet is, or (hould be more: 
 
 Reafon and fpeech we onely bring. 
 
 Parrat $ may thank us, if they are not mute. 
 
 They go upon the fcore. 
 
 Man is all fymmetrie. 
 
 Full of proportions, one limbe to another. 
 
 And all to all the world befides: 
 
 Each part may call the fartheft, brother: 
 
 For head with foot hath private amitie. 
 
 And both with moons and tides. 
 
 Nothing 
 
84 *£he Church . 
 
 Nothing hath got fo farre, 
 
 But Man hath caught and kept it, as his prey. 
 
 His eyes dismount the higheft ftarre: 
 
 He is in little all the fphere. 
 
 Herbs gladly cure our flefh; becaufe that they 
 Finde their acquaintance there* 
 
 For us the windes do blow, 
 
 The earth doth reft, heav’n move, and fountains flow. 
 Nothing we fee, but means our good. 
 
 As our delight y or as our treafure: 
 
 The whole is, either our cupboard of foody 
 Or cabinet of pleafure. 
 
 The ftarres have us to bed; 
 
 Night draws the curtain, which the funne withdraws; 
 Mulick and light attend our head. 
 
 All things unto our flejh are kinde 
 In their defcent and being ; to our minde 
 In their afcent and caufe . 
 
 Each thing is full of dutie: 
 
 Waters united are our navigation; 
 
 Diftinguifhed, our habitation; 
 
 Below, our drink; above, our meat ; 
 
 Both are our cleanlinefte. Hath one fuch beautie? 
 Then how are all things neat? 
 
 More fervants wait on Man, 
 
 Then hc’l take notice of : in ev’ry path 
 
 He treads down that which doth befriend him. 
 When fickneffe makes him pale and wan. 
 
 Oh mightie love! Man is one world, and hath 
 Another to attend him. 
 
 Since 
 
The Church. 85 
 
 Since then, my God, thou haft 
 So brave a Palace built ; O dwell in it, 
 
 That it may dwell with theeatlaft! 
 
 Till then, afford us fo much wit ; 
 
 That, as the world ferves us, we mayferve thee. 
 
 And both thyfervants be. 
 
 IT Antiphon. 
 
 C^r. Raifcd be the God of love, 
 
 J7 Men. Here below, 
 
 Angels . And here above: 
 Cbo. Who hath dealt his mercies fo, 
 
 Ang . To his friend, 
 
 Men. And to his foe ; 
 
 C bo. That both grace and gl orie tend 
 
 Ang . Us of old. 
 
 Men . And us in th’end. 
 
 Cbo. The great fhepherd of the fold 
 Ang . Us did make. 
 
 Men . For us was fold. 
 
 Cbo. He our foes in pieces brake ; 
 
 Ang . Him we touch; 
 
 Men . And him we take. 
 
 Cbo . Wherefore fince that he is fuch , 
 
 Ang . We adore, 
 
 Men . And we do crouch. 
 
 Cbo , Lord, thy praifes fhould be more. 
 
 Men . We have none, 
 
 Ang. And we no ftore. 
 
 Cbo . Praifed be the God alone, 
 
 Who hath made of two folds one. 
 
86 
 
 The Church. 
 
 *1 Unkindnefle. 
 
 L Ord, make me coy and tender to offend: 
 
 In friendfhip, firft I think, if that agree. 
 Which I intend. 
 
 Unto my friends intent and end. 
 
 I would not ufe a friend, as I ufe Thee. 
 
 If any touch my friend, or his good name; 
 
 It is my honour and my love to free 
 
 His blafted fame 
 
 From the leaft fpot or thought of blame. 
 I could not ufe a friend, as I ufe Thee. 
 
 My friend may fpit upon my curious floore: 
 
 Would he have gold? I lend it inftantly; 
 
 But let the poorc, 
 
 And thou within them ftarve at doore. 
 I cannot ufe a friend , as I ufe Thee. 
 
 When that my friend pretendeth to a place, 
 
 I quit my intereft, and leave it free : 
 
 But when thy grace 
 Sues for my heart, I thee difplace. 
 
 Nor would I ufe a friend, as I ufe Thee. 
 
 Yet can a friend what thou haft done fulfill ? 
 
 O write in braffe, My God upon a tree 
 
 His bloud did spill 
 Onely to pur chafe my good-will: 
 
 Yet ufe I not my foes , as 1 ufe thee . 
 
 f Life 
 
The Church. 87 
 
 «tr Life. 
 
 I Made a pofie, while the day ran by: 
 
 Here will I fmell my remnant out, and tie 
 
 My life within this band , 
 Bat time did becken to the flowers, and they 
 By noon moll cunningly did fteal away, 
 
 And wither’d in my hand. 
 
 My hand was next to them, and then my heart: 
 
 I took, without more thinking, in good part 
 
 Times gentle admonition: 
 Who did fo fweetly deaths fad tafte convey, 
 
 Making my minde to fmell my fatall day ; 
 
 Yet fugring the fufpicLon, 
 
 Farewell deare flowers, fweetly your time ye fpent. 
 Fit, while ye liv’d, for fmell or ornament, 
 
 And after death for cores. 
 
 I follow flraight without complaints or grief, 
 
 Since if my fent be good, I care not, if 
 
 It be as fliort as yoors. 
 
 Submiffion. 
 
 B W t that thou art my wifdome, Lord, 
 
 And both mine eyes are thine. 
 
 My minde would be extreamly ftirr’d 
 For miffing my defigne. 
 
 Were it not better to bellow 
 Some place and power on me? 
 
 Then Ihould thy praifes with me grow. 
 
 And fliare in my degree. 
 
 Bat 
 
88 
 
 ! The Church . 
 
 But when I thus difpute and grieve, 
 
 I do refume my fight, 
 
 And pilfring what I once did give, 
 DifTeize thee of thy right. 
 
 How know I,if thou fhouldflme raife, 
 That I fhould then raife thee? : 
 Perhaps great places and thy praife 
 Do not fo well agree. 
 
 Wherefore unto my gift I (land ; 
 
 I will no more advife: 
 
 Onely do thou lend me a hand, 
 
 Since thou haft both mine eyes. 
 
 X Cannot skill of thefe thy wayes. 
 
 Lord, thou didft male me, yet thou woundejl me ; 
 Lord, thou doji wound me, yet thou doji relieve me 
 Lord, thou relievefi,yet I die by thee: 
 
 Lord, thou doji kill me, yet thou doji reprieve me. 
 
 But when I mark my life and praife, 
 
 Thy jufticeme moft fitly payes: 
 
 For, I do praife thee, yet I praife thee not : 
 
 My prayers mean thee, yet my prayers Jiray : 
 
 1 would do well, yet fmne the hand hath got : 
 
 My foul doth love thee, yet it loves delay . 
 
 I cannot skill of thefe my wayes. 
 
 IT Charms and Knots. 
 
 W Ho reade a chapter when they rife, 
 Shall ne’re be troubled with ill eyes. 
 
 IF 
 
8 9 
 
 The Church . 
 
 A poore mans rod, when thou doll ride. 
 
 Is both a weapon and a guide. 
 
 Who Ihuts his hand, hath loll his gold: 
 
 Who opens it, hath it twice told. 
 
 Who goes to bed and doth not pray, 
 Makethtwo nights toev’ryday. 
 
 Who by afperlions throw a Hone 
 At th* head of others, hit their own. 
 
 Who looks on ground with humble eyes, 
 Findes himfelf there, and feeks to rife. 
 
 When th* hair isfweet through pride or lull, 
 The powder doth forget the dull. 
 
 Take one from ten , and what remains ? 
 
 Ten Hill, if fermons go for gains. 
 
 In lhallow waters heav’n doth Ihow; 
 
 But who drinks on, to hell may go. 
 
 % Affliction. 
 
 My God, I read this day. 
 
 That planted Paradife was not fo firm. 
 
 As was and is thy floting Ark; whofe Hay 
 And anchor thou art onely, to confirm 
 And ilrengthen it in ev’ry age. 
 
 When waves do rife, and tempells rage. 
 
 At firfl we liv’d in pleafure; 
 
 Thine own delights thou didlt to us impart: 
 When we grew wanton, thou didll ufe difpleafure 
 To make us thine: yet that we might not part, 
 
 As we at firfl did board with thee, 
 
 Now thou wouldll talle our miferie. 
 
90 The Church. 
 
 There is but joy and grief; 
 
 If either will convert us, we are thine: 
 
 Some Angels us’d the firft; if our relief 
 Take up the fecond, then thy double line 
 And fev’rall baits in either kinde 
 Furnifh thy table to thy miride. 
 
 Affii&ion then is ours; 
 
 We are the trees, whom (baking fallens more, 
 While bluftring windes dellroy the wanton bowres. 
 And ruffle all their curious knots and (lore. 
 
 My God, fo temper joy and wo, 
 
 That thy bright beams may tame thy bow. 
 
 Mortification. 
 
 J-JOw foon doth man decay! 
 
 When clothes are taken from a cheft of fweets 
 To Twaddle infants,whofe young breath 
 Scarce knows the way; 
 
 Thofe clouts are little winding fheets. 
 
 Which do configne and fend them unto death. 
 
 When boyes go firft to bed. 
 
 They flep into their voluntarie graves. 
 
 Sleep bindes them fall; onely their breath 
 Makes them not dead: 
 
 Succefiive nights, like rolling waves, 
 
 Convey them quickly, who are bound for death. 
 
 When youth is frank and free, 
 
 And calls for mufick, while his veins do fwell, 
 
 All day exchanging mirth and breath 
 In companie; 
 
 That mufick fummons to the knell, 
 
 Which fhall befriend him at the houfe of death. 
 
 When 
 
The Church. 91 
 
 When man grows ftaid and wife. 
 
 Getting a houfe and home, where he may move 
 Within the circle of his breath. 
 
 Schooling his eyes; 
 
 That dumbe inclofure maketh love 
 Unto the coffin, that attends his death. 
 
 When age grows low and weak, 
 
 Marking his grave, and thawing ev’ry yeare, 
 
 Till all do melt, and drown his breath 
 When he would fpeak; 
 
 A chair or litter fhows the biere, 
 
 Which (hall convey him to the houfe of death. 
 
 Man, ere he is aware. 
 
 Hath put together a folemnitie, 
 
 And dreft his herfe, while he has breath 
 As yet to fpare: 
 
 Yet Lord, inftruft us fo to die, 
 
 That all thefe dyings may be life in death. 
 
 Decay. 
 
 O Weet were the dayes, when thou didfl lodge with 
 ^Struggle with Jacob, fit with Gideon, ( Lot, 
 Advife with Abraham, when thy power could not 
 Encounter Mofes ftrong complaints and mone: 
 
 Thy words were then,Z>/ me alone . 
 
 One might have fought and found thee prefently 
 At fome fair oak, or buffi, or cave, or well: 
 
 Is my God this way? No, they would reply: 
 
 He is to Sinai gone, as we heard tell: 
 
 Lift, ye may heare great Aarons bell. 
 
 But 
 
92 The Church. 
 
 But now thou doll thy felf immure and dole 
 In fome one corner of a feeble heart: 
 
 Where yet both Sinne and Satan, thy old foes. 
 Do pinch and ftraiten thee, and ufe much art 
 To gain thy thirds and little part. 
 
 I fee the worldgrows old, when as the heat 
 Of thy great love once fpread, as in an urn 
 Doth clofet up it felf, and (till retreat. 
 
 Cold finne ftill forcing it, till it return, 
 
 And calling Juftice, all things bum. 
 
 IF Miferie. 
 
 LOrd, let the Angels praife thy name. 
 Man is a foolifti thing, a foolifh thing, 
 
 Folly and Sinne play all his game. 
 
 His houfe ftill burns, and yet he ftill doth fing, 
 Man is but graffe, 
 
 He knows it , fill the glafife. 
 
 How canft thou brook his foolifhnefte? 
 Why he’l not lofe a cup of drink for thee: 
 
 Bid him but temper his exceife; 
 
 Not he: he knows, where he can better be. 
 
 As he will fwear, 
 
 Then to ferve thee in fear. 
 
 What ftrange pollutions doth he wed. 
 And make his own? as if none knew, but he. 
 
 No man fhall beat into his head, 
 
 That thou within his curtains drawn canft fee: 
 They are of cloth. 
 
 Where never yet came moth. 
 
 The 
 
The Church. 
 
 93 
 
 The belt of men, turn but thy hand 
 For one poore minute, Humble at a pinne: 
 
 They would not have their actions fcann’d. 
 
 Nor any forrow tell them that they finne, 
 
 Though it be fmall. 
 
 And meafure not their fall. 
 
 They quarrell thee, and would give over 
 The bargain made to ferve thee: but thy love 
 
 Holds them unto it, and doth cover 
 Their follies with the wing of thy milde Dove, 
 
 Not fuff’ring thofe 
 Who would, to be thy foes. 
 
 My God, Man cannot praife thy name: 
 
 Thou art all brightneffe, perfect puritie; 
 
 The funne holds down his head for fhame, 
 
 Dead with eclipfes, when we fpeak of thee: 
 
 How (hall infeCtion 
 Prefume on thy perfection? 
 
 As dirtie hands foul all they touch. 
 
 And thofe things moft, which are moft pure and fine: 
 
 So our clay hearts, ev ? n when we crouch 
 To ling thy praifes, make them Ieffe divine. 
 
 Yet either this. 
 
 Or none thy portion is. 
 
 Man cannot ferve thee; let him go. 
 
 And ferve the fwine: there, there is his delight: 
 
 He doth not like this vertue, no; 
 
 Give him his dirt to wallow in all night: 
 
 Thefe Preachers make 
 His head to Ihoot and ake. 
 
 Oh 
 
94 The Church. 
 
 Oh foolilh man! where are thine eyes? 
 
 How haft thou loft them in a croud of cares? 
 
 Thou pull’ft the rug, and wilt not rife, 
 
 No not to purchafe the whole pack of ftarres: 
 
 There let them Ihine, 
 
 Thou muft go deep, or dine. 
 
 The bird that fees a daintie bowre 
 Made in the tree, where Ihe was wont to fit. 
 
 Wonders and lings, but not his power 
 Who made the arbour: this exceeds her wit. 
 
 But Man doth know 
 The fpring, whence all things flow: 
 
 And yet as though he knew it not. 
 
 His knowledge winks, and lets his humours reignej 
 They make his life a conftant blot. 
 
 And all the bloud of God to run in vain. 
 
 Ah wretch! what verfe 
 Can thy ftrange wayes rehearfe? 
 
 Indeed at firft Man was a treafure, 
 
 A box of jewels, fhop of rarities, 
 
 A ring,whofe pofie was, My pleafure: 
 
 He was a garden in a Paradife: 
 
 Glorie and grace 
 Did crown his heart and face. 
 
 But finne hath fool’d him. Now he is 
 A lump of flefti, without a foot or wing 
 To raife him to the glimpfe of blilfe: 
 
 A fick tofs’d veffel, dafhing on each thing; 
 
 Nay, his own lhelf : 
 
 My God, I mean my felf. 
 
 IT Jordan. 
 
95 
 
 The Church. 
 
 1 J ordan - 
 
 W Hen firft my lines of heavenly joyes made men- 
 Such was their ludre, they did fo excel], (tion, 
 That I fought out quaint words, and trim invention; 
 My thoughts began to burnifh,fprout,and fwell, 
 Curling with metaphors a plain intention. 
 
 Decking the fenfe, as if it were to fell. 
 
 Thoufands of notions in my brain did runne, 
 Offering their fervice, if I were not fped: 
 
 I often blotted what I had begunne; 
 
 This was not quick enough, and that was dead. 
 Nothing could feem too rich to clothe the funne, 
 Much lelfe thofe joyes which trample on his head. 
 
 As dames do work and winde, when they afcend, 
 So did I weave my felf into the fenfe. 
 
 But while 1 bullied, I might heare a friend 
 Whifper, How wide is all this long pretence / 
 There is in love a JweetneJJ'e readie penned: 
 
 Copie out onely that , and fave expenfe . 
 
 1[ Prayer. 
 
 Of what an ealie quick accede, 
 
 My blelfed Lord, art thou! how fuddenly 
 May our requeds thine eare invade! 
 
 To fhew that date dillikes not ealinelfe. 
 
 If I but lift mine eyes, my fuit is made: 
 
 Thou canll no more not heare, then thou cand die. 
 
 Of 
 
gh The Church. 
 
 Of whatfupreme almightie power 
 la thy great arm which fpans the eaft and weft, 
 And tacks the centre to the fphere! 
 
 By it do all things live their meafur’d houre : 
 
 We cannot ask the thing, which is not there, 
 Blaming the fhallowneffe of our requeft. 
 
 Of what unmeafurable love 
 Art thou pofleft, who, when thou couldft not die, 
 Wert fain to take our flefh and curfe. 
 
 And for our fakes in perfon finne reprove. 
 
 That by deftroying that which ty’d thy purfe, 
 Thou mightft make way for liberalitie! 
 
 Since then thefe three wait on thy throne, 
 Eafe , Power y and Love\ I value prayer fo. 
 
 That were I to leave all but one. 
 
 Wealth, fame, endowments, vertues, all fhould go; 
 I and deare prayer would together dwell. 
 
 And quickly gain, for each inch loft, an ell. 
 
 Obedience. 
 
 My God, if writings may 
 Convey a Lordfhip any way 
 Whither the buyer and the feller pleafej 
 Let it not thee difpleafe. 
 
 If this poore paper do as much as they. 
 
 On it my heart doth bleed 
 As many lines, as there doth need 
 To pafle it felf and all it hath to thee. 
 
 To which I do agree. 
 
 And here prefen t it as my fpeciall deed. 
 
 If 
 
97 
 
 ■H - 
 
 The Church . 
 
 If that hereafter Pleafure 
 Cavill, and claim her part and meafure, 
 
 As if this palled with a refervation, 
 
 Or fome fuch words in fafhion; 
 
 I here exclude the wrangler from thy treafure. 
 
 O let thy facred will 
 All thy delight in me fulfill! 
 
 Let me not think an adion mine own way, 
 
 But as thy love fhall fway, 
 
 Refigning up the rudder to thy skill. 
 
 Lord, what is man to thee, 
 
 That thou fhouldft minde a rotten tree? 
 
 Yet fince thou canft not choofe but fee my adions; 
 
 So great are thy perfedions. 
 
 Thou mayd as well my adions guide, as fee. 
 
 Befides, thy death and bloud 
 ShowM a ftrange love to all our good: 
 
 Thy forrows were in earned; no faint proffer. 
 
 Or fuperficiall offer 
 
 Of what we might not take, or be withftood. 
 
 Wherefore I all forgo: 
 
 To one word onely I fay, No: 
 
 Where in the deed there was an intimation 
 Of a gift or donation , 
 
 Lord, let it now by way of pur chafe go. 
 
 He that will paffe his land, 
 
 As I have mine, may fet his hand 
 And heart unto this deed, when he hath read; 
 
 And make the purchafe fpread 
 To both our goods,if he to it will (land. 
 
 E 
 
 How 
 
9,8 
 
 The Church. 
 
 How happie were my part, 
 
 If fome kinde man would thruft his heart 
 Into thefc lines; till in heav’ns court of rolls 
 They were by winged fouls 
 Entred for both, farre above their defertl 
 
 «[[ Confcience. 
 
 P Eace pratler, do not lowre: 
 Not a fair look, but thou doft call it foul: 
 Not a fweet diih, but thou doft call it fowre: 
 Mulick to thee doth howl. 
 
 By liftning to thy chatting fears 
 I have both loft mine eyes and eares. 
 
 Pratler, no more, I fay: 
 
 My thoughts muft work, but like a noifelefle fphcre; 
 Harmonious peace muft rock them all the day: 
 
 No room for pratlers there. 
 
 If thou perfifteft, I will tell thee. 
 
 That I have phyfick to expell thee. 
 
 And the receit fhali be 
 My Saviours bloud: when ever at his board 
 I do but tafte it, ftraight it cleanfeth me. 
 And leaves thee not a word; 
 No, not a tooth or nail to fcratch. 
 And at my actions carp, or catch. 
 
 Yet if thou talkeft ftill, 
 
 Befides my phyfick, know there’s fome for thee: 
 Some wood and nails to make a ftaffe or bill 
 For thofe that trouble me: 
 
 The bloudie crofte of my deare Lord 
 Is both my phyfick and my fword. 
 
 % Sion 
 
The Church , 99 
 
 <[[ Sion. 
 
 L Ord, with what glorie waft thou ferv'd of old. 
 When Solomons temple flood and flourilhed! 
 Where moft things were of pureft gold; 
 
 The wood was all embellifhed 
 With flowers and carvings, myfticall and rare: 
 
 All fhow'd the builders, crav'd thefeers care. 
 
 Yet all this glorie, all this pomp and ftate 
 Did not affeCl thee much, was not thy aim; 
 
 Something there was, that fow'd debate: 
 Wherefore thou quitt'ft thy ancient claim: 
 
 And now thy Architecture meets with ftnne; 
 
 For all thy frame and fabrick is within. 
 
 There thou art ftruggling with a peevilh heart. 
 
 Which fometimes crofleth thee, thou fometimes it: 
 The fight is hard on either part. 
 
 Great God doth fight, he doth fubmit. 
 
 All Solomons flea of brafle and world of ftone 
 Is not fo deare to thee as one good grone. 
 
 And truly brafle and ftones are heavie things, 
 
 Tombes for the dead, not temples fit for thee: 
 Butgronesare quick, and full of wings, 
 
 And all their motions upward be; 
 
 And ever as they mount, like larks they ling; 
 
 The note is fad, yet mufick for a king. 
 
 IT Home. 
 
 C Ome Lord, my head doth burn, my heart is lick, 
 While thou doft ever, ever ftay : 
 
 Thy long deferrings wound me to the quick. 
 
 My fpirit gafpeth night and day. 
 
 O Ihew thy felf to me. 
 
 Or take me up to thee! 
 
 E 2 
 
 How 
 
ioo *£be Church . 
 
 How can ft: thou ftay, confi dering the pace 
 
 The bloud did make, which thou didft waftei 
 When I behold it trickling down thy face, 
 
 I never faw thing make fuch hafte. 
 
 O ihow thy felf to me. 
 
 Or take me up to thee! 
 
 When man was loft, thy pitie lookt about 
 
 To fee what help in th’ earth or skie: 
 
 But there was none; at leaft no help without: 
 
 The help did in thy bofome lie. 
 
 O Ihow thy, &c. 
 
 There lay thy fonne: and muft he leave that neft. 
 That hive of fweetneffe, to remove 
 Thraldome from thofe , who would not at a feaft 
 Leave one poore apple for thy love? 
 
 O (how thy, &c. 
 
 He did,he came: O my Redeemer deare, 
 
 After all this canft thou be ftrange? 
 
 So many yeares baptiz’d, and not appeare? 
 
 As if thy love could fail or change. 
 
 O Ihow thy, &c. 
 
 Yet if thou ftayeft Hill, why muft I ftay? 
 
 My God, what is this world to me ? 
 
 This world of wo ? hence all ye clouds, away. 
 Away; I muft get up and fee. 
 
 O Ihow thy. &c. 
 
 What is this weary world; this meat and drink. 
 That chains us by the teeth fo faft? 
 
 What is this woman-kinde, which I can wink 
 Into a blacknefle and diftafte? 
 
 O fliow thy, &c. 
 
 With 
 
IOI 
 
 The Church. 
 
 With one fmall figh thou gav’fl: me th’ other day 
 I blafted all the joyes about me: 
 
 And fcoulingon them as they pin’d away, 
 
 Now come again, faid I, and flout me. 
 
 O Alow thy felf to me, 
 
 Or take me up to thee! 
 
 Nothing but drought and dearth, but bufh and brake, 
 Which way fo-e’re I look, I fee. 
 
 Some may dream merrily, but when they wake, 
 
 They drefle themfelvesand come to thee. 
 
 O fliow thy, &c. 
 
 We talk of harvefts; there are no fuch things. 
 
 But when we leave our corn and hay: 
 
 There is no fruitfull yeare, but that which brings 
 The laft and lov’d, though dreadfull day. 
 
 O fliow thy. & c. 
 
 Oh loofe this frame, this knot of man untie! 
 
 That my free foul may ufe her wing, 
 
 Which now is pinion’d with mortalitie. 
 
 As an intangled, hamper’d thing. 
 
 O fliow thy, &c. 
 
 What have I left, that I fhould flay and grone/ 
 
 The moll of me to heav’n is fled: 
 
 My thoughts and joyes are all packt up and gone, 
 
 And for their old acquaintance plead. 
 
 O fliow thy, See . 
 
 Come deareft Lord, pafle not this holy feafon, 
 
 My flefh and bones and joynts do pray: 
 
 And ev’n my verfe, when by the ryme and reafon 
 The word is, Stay, fayes ever. Come. 
 
 O fliow thy. See. 
 
 E 3 
 
 f The 
 
102 The Church . 
 
 ^ The Britifh Church. 
 
 I Joy, deare Mother, when I view 
 Thy perfedl lineaments, and hue 
 
 Both fweet and bright. 
 
 Beautie in thee takes up her place. 
 
 And dates her letters from thy face, 
 
 When fhe doth write. 
 
 A fine afpedt in fit aray, 
 
 N either too mean, nor yet too gay. 
 
 Shows who is beft. 
 
 Outlandifh looks may not compare ; 
 
 For all they either painted are. 
 
 Or elfe undreft. 
 
 She on the hills, which wantonly 
 Allureth all in hope to be 
 
 By her preferr’d. 
 
 Hath kifs’d fo long her painted fhrines, 
 
 That ev*n her face by killing fiiines, 
 
 For her reward. 
 
 She in the valley is fo ihie 
 Of dreffing, that her hair doth lie 
 
 About her eares : 
 
 While Ihe avoids her neighbours pride, 
 
 She wholly goes on th* other fide. 
 
 And nothing wears. 
 
 But deareft Mother, (what thofe mifle) 
 
 The mean thy praife and glorieis, 
 
 And long may be. 
 
 Blefled be God, whofe love it was 
 To doublc*moat thee with his grace, 
 
 And none but thee. 
 
 «jThe 
 
The Church. 103 
 
 The Quip. 
 
 T He merrie world did on a day 
 
 With his train-bands and mates agree 
 To meet together, where I Jay, 
 
 And all in fporttogeere at me. 
 
 Firft, Beautie crept into a rofe, 
 
 Which when I pluckt not,Sir,faid file, 
 
 Tell me, I pray, Whofe hands are thofe ? 
 
 Bat thou fiialt anfwer. Lord, for me. 
 
 Then Money came, and chinking ftill, 
 
 What tune is this, poore man ? faid he : * 
 
 I heard in Mufick you had skill. 
 
 But thou fiialt anfwer. Lord, for me. 
 
 Then came brave Glorie puffing by 
 In filks that whittled, who but he? 
 
 He fcarce allow’d me half an eie. 
 
 But thou (halt anfwer. Lord, for me. 
 
 Then came quick Wit and Converfation , 
 
 And he would needs a comfort be, 
 
 And, to be Ihort, make an oration. 
 
 But thou {halt anfwer, Lord, for me. 
 
 Yet when the houreof thydefigne 
 To anfwer thefe fine things (hall come; 
 
 Speak not at large, fay, I am thine: 
 
 And then they have their anfwer home. 
 
 E 4 
 
 1 Vanitie. 
 
104 
 
 'The Church. 
 
 «d Vanitie. 
 
 P Oorc filly foul, whofe hope andhead lies low; 
 
 Whofe flat delights on earth do creep and grow; 
 To whom the ftarres fhine not fo fair, as eyes; 
 
 Nor folid work, as falfe embroyderies; 
 
 Heark and beware, left what you now do meafure 
 And write for fweet, prove a moft fowre difpleafurc, 
 
 O heare betimes, left thy relenting 
 May come too late! 
 
 To purchafe heaven for repenting, 
 
 Is no hard rate. 
 
 If fouls be made of earthly mold, 
 
 Let them love gold; 
 
 If born on high, 
 
 Let them unto their kindred flie: 
 
 For they can never be at reft, 
 
 Till they regain their ancient neft. 
 
 Then (illy foul take heed; for earthly joy 
 Is but a bubble, and makes thee a boy. 
 
 IF The Dawning. 
 
 A Wake fad heart, whom forrow ever drowns; 
 
 Take up thine eyes, which feed on earth; 
 Unfold thy forehead gather’d into frowns : 
 
 Thy Saviour comes, and with him mirth: 
 Awake, awake; 
 
 And with a thankfull heart his comforts take. 
 
 But thou doft ftill lament, and pine, and cric; 
 And feel his death, but not his vidtorie. 
 
 Arife 
 
T’he Church . 105 
 
 Arife fad heart; if thou doll not withftand, 
 
 Chrifts refurreftion thine may be: 
 
 Do not by hanging down (break from the hand. 
 
 Which as it rifeth, raifeth thee: 
 
 Arife, arife; 
 
 And with his buriall-linen drie thine eyes: ( grief 
 
 Chrilt left his grave-clothes, that we might, when 
 Draws tears, or bloud,not want an handkerchief. 
 
 IF Jesu. 
 
 J ES U is in my heart, his facred name 
 Is deeply carved there : but th’other week 
 A great affliction broke the little frame, 
 
 Ev’n all to pieces: which I went to feek: 
 
 And firffc I found the corner, where was, J, 
 
 After, where E S, and next where *1) was graved. 
 When I had got thefe parcels, inftantly 
 I fat me down to fpell them, and perceived 
 That to my broken heart he was 1 eafe you. 
 
 And to my whole is JES' V* 
 
 IT Bufineffe. 
 
 C Anlt be idle ? canlt thou play, 
 Foolifh foul who finn'd to day t 
 
 River3 run, and fprings each one 
 Know their home, and get them gone: 
 
 Hall thou tears, or hall thou none ? 
 
 If, poore foul, thou hall no tears; 
 
 Would thou hadll no faults or fears ! 
 
 Who hath thefe, thofe ill forbears. 
 
 ES 
 
 Windes 
 
io6 The Church. 
 
 Windes ftill work: it is their plot, 
 
 Be the feafon cold, or hot: 
 
 Haft thou fighs, or haft thou not ? 
 
 If thou haft no ftghs or grones. 
 
 Would thou hadft no flefli and bones/ 
 
 Lefler pains fcape greater ones. 
 
 But if yet thou idle be, 
 
 Foolifh foul, Whodi’d for thee ? 
 
 Who did leave his Fathers throne, 
 
 To affume thy flefh and bone; 
 
 Had he life, or had he none? 
 
 If he had not liv’d for thee, 
 
 Thou hadft di’d moft wretchedly ; 
 
 And two deaths had been thy fee. 
 
 He fo farre thy good did plot. 
 
 That his own felf he forgot. 
 
 Did he die, or did he not? 
 
 If he had not di’d for thee. 
 
 Thou hadft liv’d in miferie. 
 
 Two lives worfe then ten deaths be. 
 
 And hath any fpace of breath 
 ’Twixt his finnes and Saviours death 
 
 He that lofeth gold, though drofle. 
 
 Tells to all he meets, his crofie: 
 
 He that finnes, hath henolofic ? 
 
 He that findes a filver vein, 
 
 Thinks on it, and thinks again: 
 
 Brings thy Saviours death no gain? 
 
 Who in heart not ever kneels, 
 Neither finne nor Saviour feels. 
 
The Church. 1 07 
 
 % Dialogue. 
 
 S Weeteft Saviour, if my foul 
 Were but worth the having, 
 
 Quickly fhould I then controll 
 Any thought of waving. 
 
 But when all my care and pains 
 Cannot give the name of gains 
 To thy wretch lb full of ftains ; 
 
 What delight or hope remains? 
 
 What ( child e) is the hallance thine , 
 
 Thine the poife and meafure ? 
 
 If I fay, Thou Jhalt be mines 
 . Finger not my treaf ure. 
 
 What the gains in having thee 
 1 Do amount to, onely he. 
 
 Who for man was fold, can fee ; 
 
 That transferred th' accounts to me . 
 
 But as I can fee no merit , 
 
 Leading to this favour: 
 
 So the way to lit me for it. 
 
 Is beyond my favour. 
 
 As the reafon then is thine; 
 
 So the way is none of mine: 
 
 I difclaim the whole deligne: 
 
 Sinne difclaims and I refigne. 
 
 That is all, if that I could 
 Get without repining ; 
 
 And my clay my creature would 
 Follow my refigning. 
 
 That as I did freely part 
 With my glorie and defert , 
 
 Left all joyes to feel all /mart — 
 
 Ah / no more: thou break’ll my heart. 
 
 IT Dulnefle 
 
io8 The Church . 
 
 ^ Dulneffe. 
 
 VV H y do I languifii thus, drooping and dull. 
 As if I were all earth? 
 
 Ogive me quickneffe, that I may with mirth 
 Praife thee brim-full ! 
 
 The wanton lover in a curious {train 
 
 Can praife his faireil fair; 
 
 And with quaint metaphors her curled hair 
 Curl o’re again. 
 
 Thou art my lovelinefle, my life, my light, 
 Beautie alone to me: 
 
 Thy bloudy death and undeferv’d, makes thee 
 Pure red and white. 
 
 When all perfections as but one appeare. 
 
 That thofe thy form doth fhow. 
 
 The very duit, where thou doft tread and go, 
 Makes beauties here ; 
 
 Where are my lines then? my approaches? vie ws? 
 
 Where are my window-fongs? 
 
 Lovers are (till pretending, & ev'n wrongs 
 Sharpen their Mufe: 
 
 But I am loft in fleih, whofe fugred lyes 
 
 Still mock me, and grow bold: 
 
 Sure thoudidft putaminde there, if I could 
 Finde where it lies. 
 
 Lord, cleare thy gift, that with a conftant wit 
 I may but look towards thee: 
 
 hwi onely; for to love thee, who can be. 
 
 What angel fit? 
 
 T Love-joy. 
 
The Church. 109 
 
 H Love-joy. 
 
 A S on a window late I call: mine eye* 
 
 I faw a vine drop grapes with J and C 
 Anneal’d on every bunch. One Handing by 
 Ask’d what it meant. I (who am never loth 
 To fpend my iudgement) faid. It feem’d to me 
 To be thebodieand the letters both 
 Of Joy and Gharitie . Sir, you have not mifs’d, 
 Themanreply’d 3 It figures JESVS CHRIST. 
 
 S' Providence. 
 
 O Sacred Providence, who from end to end 
 Strongly and fweetly moveft! fhall I write, 
 
 And not of thee,through whom my fingers bend 
 To hold my quill? fhall they not do thee right? 
 
 Of all the creatures both in fea and land 
 Onely to Man thou haft made known thy wayes. 
 
 And put the penne alone into his hand, 
 
 And made him Secretarie of thy praife. 
 
 Beafts fain would fing; 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 worlds high Prieft: he doth prefent 
 The facrifice for all ; while they below 
 Unto the fervice mutter an allent. 
 
 Such as fprings ufe that fali,and windes that blow. 
 
 He that to praife and laud thee doth refrain, 
 
 Doth not refrain unto himfelf alone. 
 
 But robs a thoufand who would praife thee fain, 
 
 And doth commit a world of finne in one. The 
 
no The Church . 
 
 The beads lay, Eat me:but,if beads mud teach, 
 
 The tongue is yours to eat, but mine to praife. 
 
 The trees fay, Pull me: but the hand you dretch, 
 
 Is mine to write , as it is yours to raife. 
 
 Wherefore, mod facred Spirit, I here prefent 
 For me and all my fellows praife to thee: 
 
 And jud it is that I fhould pay the rent, 
 
 Becaufe the benefit accrues to me. 
 
 We all acknowledge both thy power and love 
 To be exa£l,tranfcendent,and divine; 
 
 Who dod fo drongly and fo fweetly move. 
 
 While all things have their will, yet none but thine. 
 
 For either thy command , or thy permijjion 
 Lay hands on all: they are thy right an&left. 
 
 The fird puts on with fpeed and expedition; 
 
 The other curbs finnes dealing pace and theft. 
 
 Nothing efcapes them both ; all mud appeare. 
 
 And be difpos’d,and drefs’d,and tun’d by thee. 
 
 Who fweetly temper’d all. If we could heare 
 Thy skill and art, what mufick would it be! 
 
 Thou art in fmall things great, not fmall in any: 
 
 Thy even praife can neither rife, nor fall. 
 
 Thou art in all things one, in each thing many: 
 
 For thou art infinite in one and all. 
 
 Tempeds are calm to thee; they know thy hand. 
 
 And hold it fad,as children do their fathers. 
 
 Which crie and follow. Thou had made poore fand 
 Check the proud fea,ev’n when it fwells and gathers. 
 
 Thy cupboard ferves the world : the meat is fet. 
 Where all may reach:no bead but knows his feed. 
 Birds teach us hawking; fifhes have their net: 
 
 The great prey on the leffe, they on fome weed. 
 
 Nothing 
 
1 1 1 
 
 The Church. 
 
 Nothing ingendred doth prevent his meat: 
 
 Flies have their table fpread,ere they appeare. 
 
 Some creatures have in winter what to eat; 
 
 Others do fleep,and envie not their cheer. 
 
 How finely doll thou times and feafons fpin. 
 
 And make a twill checker’d with night and day! 
 Which as it lengthens windes,and windes us in. 
 
 As bouls go on, but turning all the way. 
 
 Each creature hath a wifdome for his good. 
 
 The pigeons feed their tender ofF-fpring, crying. 
 When they are callow; but withdraw their food 
 When they are fledge,that need may teach the flying. 
 
 Bees work for man ; and yet they never bruife 
 Their mailers flower, but leave it,having done. 
 
 As fair as ever, and as fit to ufe ; 
 
 So both the flower doth Hay, and hony run. 
 
 Sheep eat the grade, and dung the ground for more: 
 Trees after bearing drop their leaves for foil: 
 
 Springs vent their llreams, and by expenfe get ftore: 
 Clouds cool by heat, and baths by cooling boil. 
 
 Who hath the vertue to exprefle the rare 
 And curious vertues both of herbs and Hones? 
 
 Is there an herb for that? O that thy care 
 Would Ihow a root, that gives expreflions! 
 
 And if an herb hath power, what have the ftarres? 
 
 A rofe,befides his beautie, is a cure. 
 
 Doubtlefle our plagues and plentie, peace and warres 
 Are there much furer then our art is fure. 
 
 Thou hall hid metals: man may take them thence; 
 
 But at hisperill: when he digs the place. 
 
 He makes a grave ; as if the thing had fenfe. 
 
 And threatned man,that he Ihould fill the fpace. 
 
 Ev’n 
 
1 12 The Church. 
 
 Ev'n poyfons praife thee. Should a thing be loft/ 
 Should creatures want for want of heed their due? 
 Since where are poyfons, antidots are moft: 
 
 The help ftands clofe, and keeps the fear in view. 
 
 The fea, which feems to ftop the traveller. 
 
 Is by a fhip the fpeedier paffage made. 
 
 The windes,who think they rule the mariner. 
 
 Are rul'd by him,and taught to ferve his trade. 
 
 And as thy houfe is full , fo I adore 
 Thy curious art in marlhalling thy goods. 
 
 The hills with health abound; the vales with ftore; 
 The South with marble;North withfurres & woods. 
 
 Hard things are glorious; ealie things good cheap. 
 
 The common all men have; that which is rare, 
 
 Men therefore feek to have, and care to keep. 
 
 The healthy frofts with fummer-fruits compare. 
 
 Light without winde is glaffe: warm without weight 
 Is wooll and furres: cool without clofene!Te,fhade: 
 Speed without pains, a horfe: tall without height, 
 
 A fervile hawk : low without Ioffe, a fpade. 
 
 All countreys have enough to ferve their need: 
 
 If they feek fine things, thou doft make them run 
 For their offence; and then doft turn their fpeed 
 To be commerce and trade from funne to funne. 
 
 Nothing wears clothes, but Man ; nothing doth need 
 But he to wear them. Nothing ufethfire, 
 
 But Man alone, to fhowhis heavenly breed: 
 
 And onely he hath fuell in defire. 
 
 When th’ earth was dry, thou mad’ft a fea of wet : 
 Whe that lay gather’d, thou didft broach the moutains: 
 When yet fome places could no moifture get, (tains. 
 The windesgrew gard’ners,and the clouds good foun- 
 
 Rain 
 
The Church. 1 1 3 
 
 Rain, do not hurt my flowers ; but gently fpend 
 Your hony drops : prefle not to fmell them here: 
 When they are ripe, their odour will afcend. 
 
 And at your lodging with their thanks appeare. 
 
 How harfh are thorns to pears ! and yet they make 
 A better hedge, and need lefie reparation. 
 
 How fmooth are fllks compared with a flake, 
 
 Or with a ftone! yet make no good foundation. 
 
 Sometimes thou doft divide thy gifts to man. 
 Sometimes unite. The Indian nut alone 
 Is clothing, meat and trencher, drink and kan, 
 Boat,cable,fail and needle, all in one. 
 
 Moft herbs that grow in brooks, are hot and dry. 
 
 Cold fruits warm kernells help againft the winde. 
 
 The lemmons juice and rinde cure mutually. 
 
 The whey of milk doth loofe,the milk doth binde. 
 
 Thy creatures leap not, but exprefle a feaft. 
 
 Where all the guefls fit clofe, and nothing wants. 
 Frogs marry fifli and flefh; bats, bird and beaft ; 
 Sponges,non-fenfe and fenfe;mines,th’ earth & plants. 
 
 Tolhow thou art not bound, as if thy lot 
 Were worfe then ours; fometimes thou fliifteft hands. 
 Moft things move th’ under-jaw;the Crocodile not. 
 Moft things fleep lying; th’ Elephant leans or ftands. 
 
 But who hath praife enough?nay who hath any ? 
 
 None can exprefle thy works, but he that knows them: 
 And none can know thy works, which are fo many. 
 And fo complete, but onely he that owes them. 
 
 All things that are, though they have fev’rall wayes. 
 Yet in their being joyn with one advife 
 To honour thee : and fo I give thee praife 
 In all my other hymnes, but in this twice. 
 
 Each 
 
1 14 The Church. 
 
 Each thing that is, although in ufe and name 
 it go for one, hath many wayes in ftore 
 To honour thee > and fo each hymne thy fame 
 Extolleth many wayes, yet this one more. 
 
 f Hope. 
 
 I Gave to Hope a watch of mine: but he 
 An anchor gave to me. 
 Then an old prayer-book I did prefent: 
 
 And he an optick fent. 
 With that I gave a viall full of tears: 
 
 But he a few green eares: 
 Ah Loyterer! Tie no more,no more Pie bring: 
 I did expert a ring. 
 
 ^ Sinnes round. 
 
 S Orrie I am, my God, forrie I am, 
 
 That my offences courfe it in a ring. 
 
 My thoughts are working like a bufle flame, 
 
 1 Intill their cockatrice they hatch and bring: 
 
 And when they once have perfe&ed their draughts. 
 My words take fire from my inflamed thoughts. 
 
 My words take fire from my inflamed thoughts, 
 Which fpit it forth like the Sicilian hill. 
 
 They vent the wares, and paffe them with their faults. 
 And by their breathing ventilate the ill. 
 
 But words fufRce not, where are lewd intentions: 
 
 My hands do joyn to finifh the inventions. 
 
 My hands do joyn to finifh the inventions: 
 
 And fo my finnes afcend three flories high. 
 
 As Babel grew, before there were diffentions. 
 
 Yet ill deeds loy ter not: for they fupplie 
 
 New thoughts of finning: wherefore, to my fhame, 
 
 Sorrie I am, my God, forrie I am. V Time. 
 
The Church 
 ^ Time. 
 
 ”5 
 
 M Eeting with Time, flack thing, faid I, 
 
 Thy fithe is dull ; whet it for lhame. 
 
 No marvell Sir, he did replie, 
 
 If it at length deferve fome blame: 
 
 But where one man would have me grinde it, 
 Twentie for one too fharp do finde it. 
 
 Perhaps fome fuch of old did paffe, 
 
 Who above all things lov’d this life ; 
 
 To whom thy fithe a hatchet was. 
 
 Which now is but a pruning-knife. 
 
 Chrifts coming hath made man thy debtcr. 
 
 Since by thy cutting he grows better. 
 
 And in his blefling thou art bleft: 
 
 For where thou onely wert before 
 An executioner at bell; 
 
 Thou art a gard’ner now, and more, 
 
 An ufher to convey our fouls 
 Beyond the utmoft ftarres and poles. 
 
 And this is that makes life fo long. 
 
 While it detains us from our God. 
 
 Ev’n pleafures here increafe the wrong. 
 
 And length of dayes lengthen the rod. 
 
 Who wants the place, where God doth dwell. 
 Partakes already half of hell. 
 
 Of what ftrange length mud that needs be. 
 
 Which ev’n eternitie excludes! 
 
 Thusfarre Time heard me patiently: 
 
 Then chafing faid. This man deludes: 
 
 What do I here before his doore? 
 
 He doth not crave lefle time, but more. 
 
 Tf Grate- 
 
1 1 6 The Church. 
 
 «[[ Grate fulnefle. 
 
 T Hou that haft giv’n fo much to me, 
 Give one thing more, a gratefull heart. 
 See how thy beggar works on thee 
 By art. 
 
 He makes thy gifts occafion more , 
 
 And layes, If he in this be croft. 
 
 All thou haft giv’n him heretofore 
 Is loft. 
 
 But thou didft reckon, when at firft 
 Thy word our hearts and hands did crave. 
 What it would come to at the worft 
 To fave. 
 
 Perpetuall knockings at thy doore. 
 
 Tears fullying thy tranfparent rooms. 
 
 Gift upon gift,much would have more. 
 
 And comes. 
 
 This not withftanding, thou wentft on. 
 And didft allow us all our no’fe: 
 
 Nay thou haft made a figh and grone 
 Thy joyes. 
 
 Not that, thou haft not ftill above 
 Much better tunes,then grones can make; 
 But that thefe countrey-aires thy love 
 Did take. 
 
 Wherefore I crie, and crie again; 
 
 And in no quiet canft thou be, 
 
 Till I a thankfull heart obtain 
 
 Of thee: 
 
II? 
 
 The Church . 
 
 Not thankful], when it pleafeth me; 
 As if thy blefsings had fpare dayes: 
 But fuchaheartjwhofe pu Ife may be 
 Thy praife. 
 
 Peace. 
 
 S Weet Peace,where doft thou dwellFI humbly crave, 
 Let me once know. 
 
 I fought thee in a fecretcave. 
 
 And ask’d, if Peace were there. 
 
 A hollow vvinde did feem to anfwer, No.- 
 
 Go feek elfewhere. 
 
 I did; and going did a rainbow note: 
 
 Surely, thought T, 
 
 This is the lace of Peaces coat: 
 
 I will fearch out the matter. 
 
 But while Ilookt, the clouds immediately 
 
 Did break and fcatter. 
 
 Then went I to a garden , and did fpy 
 
 A gallant flower, 
 
 The crown Imperiall:Sure,faid I, 
 Peace at the root mull dwell. 
 
 But when I digg’d, I faw a worm devoure 
 
 What Ihow’d fo 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 increafe 
 Of flock and fold. 
 
 He 
 
1 1 8 The Church. 
 
 He Tweedy liv’d; yet fweetnefle did not favc 
 His life from foes. 
 
 But after death out of his grave 
 
 There fprang twelve ftalks of wheat: 
 Which many wondring at, got Tome of thofe 
 To plant and fet. 
 
 It profper’d ftrangely, and did foon difperfe 
 Through all the earth: 
 
 For they that tafle it do rehearfe, 
 
 That vertue lies therein, 
 
 A fecret vertue bringing peace and mirth 
 By flight of flnne. 
 
 Take of this grain, which in my garden grows, 
 And grows for you; 
 
 Make bread of it: and that repofe 
 And peace which ev’ry where 
 With fo much earneflnefle you do purfu 
 Is onely there. 
 
 Confeflion. 
 
 o What a cunning gueft 
 Is this fame grief! within my heart I made 
 Clofets; and in them many a cheft; 
 
 And like a mailer in my trade. 
 
 In thofe chells, boxes; in each box, a till: 
 
 Yet grief knows all, and enters when he will. 
 
 No fcrue, no piercer can 
 Into a piece of timber work and winde, 
 
 As Gods affli&ions into man, 
 
 When he a torture hath defign’d. 
 
 They are too fubtill for the fubt’lleft hearts; 
 And fall, like rheumes, upon the tendreft parts. 
 
1 19 
 
 The Church. 
 
 We are the earth; and the)", 
 
 Like moles within us, heave, and call about: 
 
 And till they foot and clutch their prey* 
 
 They never cool, much leffe give out. 
 
 No fmith can make fuch locks, but they have keyes: 
 Clofets are halls to them; and hearts, high-wayes. 
 
 Onely an open breaft 
 
 Doth f hut them out, fo that they cannot enter; 
 
 Or, if they enter, cannot reft, 
 
 But quickly feek fome new adventure. 
 
 Smooth open hearts nofaftning have; but fi&ion 
 Doth give a hold and handle to affli&ion. 
 
 Wherefore my faults and finnes. 
 
 Lord, I acknowledge; take thy plagues away: 
 
 For fince confeflion pardon winnes, 
 
 I challenge here the brighteft day. 
 
 The cleareft diamond: let them do their beft, 
 
 They fhall be thick and cloudie to my breaft. 
 
 Giddinefle. 
 
 O H, what a thing is man! how farre from power, 
 From fetled peace and reft! 
 
 He is fome twentie fev’rall men at leaft 
 Each fev’rall houre. 
 
 One while he counts of heav’n, as of his treafure; 
 
 But then a thought creeps in, 
 
 And calls him coward, who for fear of finne 
 Will lofe a pleafure. 
 
 Now 
 
120 
 
 The Church . 
 
 Now he will fight it out, and to the warres; 
 
 Now eat his bread in peace, 
 
 And fnudge in quiet: now he fcorns increafe; 
 Nowall dayfpares. 
 
 He builds a houfe, which quickly down muft go, 
 As if awhirlwinde blew 
 Andcrufhtthe building: and it’s partly true, 
 His minde is fo. 
 
 O what a fight were Man, if his attires 
 Did alter with his minde; 
 
 And like a Dolphins skinne, his clothes combin’d 
 With his defires! 
 
 Surely if each one faw anothers heart, 
 
 There would be no commerce, 
 
 No fale or bargain pafie: all would difperfe. 
 
 And live apart. 
 
 Lord, mend or rather make us : one creation 
 Will not fuffice our turn: 
 
 Except thou make us dayly, we fhall fpurn 
 Our own falvation. 
 
 % The bunch of grapes. 
 
 Oy, I did lock thee up: but fome bad man 
 
 And now, me thinks, I am where I began 
 Sev’n yeares ago : one vogue and vein, 
 One aire of thoughts ufurps my brain, 
 jfdid toward Canaan draw; but now I am 
 Brought back to the Red fea, the fea of ihame. 
 
 Hath let thee out again : 
 
 For 
 
I 2 I 
 
 The Church. 
 
 For as the Jews of old by Gods command 
 
 Travell’d, and faw no town: 
 
 So now each Chridian hath his journeys fpann’d: 
 Their dorie pennes and fets us down. 
 
 A (ingle deed is fmall renown. 
 
 Gods works are wide, and let in future times; 
 
 His ancient judice overflows our crimes. 
 
 Then have we too our guardian fires and clouds; 
 
 Our Scripture-dew drops fad: 
 
 We have our fands and ferpents, tents and (hrowds; 
 Alas! our murmurings come not lad. 
 
 But where’s the cluder? where’s the tade ] 
 Of mine inheritance ? Lord, if I mud borrow. 
 
 Let me as well take up their joy , as forrow. 
 
 But can he want the grape, who hath the wine ? 
 
 I have their fruit and more. 
 
 BlefTed be God, who profper’d Noahs vine, 
 
 And made it bring forth grapes good dore. 
 But much more him I mud adore, 
 
 Who of the laws fowre juice fweet wine did make, 
 Ev'n God himfelf, being prefled for my fake. 
 
 Love unknown. 
 
 D Eare Friend, (it down, the tale is long and fad : 
 And in my fain tings I prefume your loue 
 Will more complie, then help. A Lord I had, 
 
 And have, of whom fome grounds which may im- 
 I hold for two lives, aud both lives in me, (prove, 
 To him I brought a diih of fruit one day, 
 
 And in the middle plac’d my heart. But he 
 
 ( I figh to fay ) 
 
 F 
 
 Lookt 
 
122 The Church. 
 
 Lookt on a feruant, who did know his eye 
 Better then you know me, or ( which is one ) 
 Then I my (elf. The fervant infiantly 
 Quitting the fruit , feiz’d on my heart alone. 
 
 And threw it in a font, wherein did fall 
 A ftream of bloud, which iffu’d from the fide 
 Of a great rock: I well remember all , 
 
 And have good caufe : there it was dipt and di’d, 
 And wafht, and wrung: the very wringing yet 
 Enforceth tears. Tour heart was foul, I fear . 
 Indeed ’tis true. I did and do commit 
 Many a fault more then my leafe will bear$ 
 
 Yet flill askt pardon, and was not deni’d. 
 
 But you fhall heare. After my heart was well. 
 And clean and fair, as I one even - tide 
 
 ( I figh to tell ) 
 
 Walkt by my felf abroad, I faw a large 
 And fpacious fornace flaming, and thereon 
 A boyling caldron, round about whofe verge 
 Was in great letters fet AFFLICTION . 
 
 The greatneffe fhew’d the owner. So I went 
 To fetch a facrifice out of my fold, 
 
 Thinking with that, which I did thus prefent. 
 
 To warm his love, which I did fear grew cold* 
 But as my heart did tender it, the man 
 Who was to take it from me, dipt his hand, 
 
 And threw my heart into the fcalding pan; 
 
 My heart, that brought it ( do you underftand? ) 
 The offerers heart. Tour heart was hard , 1 fear . 
 Indeed ’tis true. I found a callous matter 
 Began to fpread and to expatiate there: 
 
 But with a richer drug, then fcalding water, 
 
 I bath’d it often, ev’n with holy bloud, 
 
 Which at a board, while many drunk bare wine, 
 A friend did deal into my cup for good, 
 
 Ev’n taken inwardly , and moll divine 
 
123 
 
 The Church. 
 
 To fupple hardnefles. Bat at the length 
 Out of the caldron getting, foon I fled 
 Unto my houfe, where to repair the ftrength 
 Which I had loft, I halted to my bed* 
 
 But when I thought to fleep out all thefe faults 
 
 ( I figh to Ipeak )' 
 
 I found that fome had ftufFM the bed with thoughts, 
 I would fay thorns . Deare, could my heart not break, 
 When with my pleafures ev’n my reft was gone ? 
 Full well I underftood, who had been there: 
 
 For I had giv’n the key to none, but one: 
 
 It mull be he. Tour heart was dull, 1 fear . 
 
 Indeed a flack and fleepie ftate of minde 
 Did oft pofiefle me, fo that when I pray’d, 
 
 Though my lips went, my heart did ftay behinde. 
 
 But all my fcores were by another paid. 
 
 Who took the debt upon him. Truly , Friend , 
 
 For ought 1 he are, your M after Jhozvs to you 
 More favour then you wot of Mark the end % 
 
 The Font did onely,what was old , renew: 
 
 The Caldron fupple d, what was grown too hard: 
 
 The Thorns did quicken , what was grown too dull: 
 
 All did but Jirive to mend , what you had marrd . 
 Wherefore be cheer'd, and praife him to the full 
 Each day, each houre, each moment of the week , 
 
 Who fain would have you be, new , tender, quick . 
 
 vr mxnuiK, n m I it i mi iiii mfifriTf l 
 
 Mans medley. 
 
 H Eark, how the birds do ling, 
 
 And woods do ring. 
 
 All creatures have their joy: and man hath his. 
 
 Yet if we rightly meafure, 
 
 Mans joy and pleafure 
 Rather hereafter, then in prefent, is. 
 
 F 2 
 
 To 
 
124 The Church. 
 
 To this life things of fenfe 
 
 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 foul he mounts and flies, 
 
 Infieflihe dies. 
 
 He wears a ftuffe whofe thread is courfe and round. 
 
 But trimm’d with curious lace, 
 
 And fhould take place 
 
 After the trimming,not the ftuffe and ground. 
 
 Not, that he may not here 
 Tafte of the cheer. 
 
 But as birds drink, and ftraight lift up their head , 
 
 So muft he fip and think 
 Of better drink 
 
 He may attain to, after he is dead. 
 
 But as his joyes are double ; 
 
 So is his trouble. 
 
 He hath two winters, other things but one: 
 
 Both frofts and thoughts do nip, 
 
 And bite hislip; 
 
 And he of all things fears two deaths alone. 
 
 Yet ev’n the greateft griefs 
 May be reliefs, 
 
 Could he but take them right, and in their wayci. 
 
 Happie is he, whofe heart 
 Hath found the art 
 
 To turn his double pains to double praife. 
 
 1 The 
 
125 
 
 The Church. 
 
 The Storm. 
 
 I F as the windes and waters here below 
 Do flie and flow. 
 
 My flgh3 and tears as bufle were above; 
 
 Sure they would move 
 And much afFedt thee , as tempeftuous times 
 Amaze poore mortals, and objedl their crimes. 
 
 Starres have their dorms, ev’n in a high degree , 
 
 As well as we. 
 
 A throbbing confcience fpurred by remor/e 
 
 Hath a ftrange force: 
 
 It quits the earth, and mounting more and more, 
 Dares toaflault thee, and befiege thy doore. 
 
 There it ftands knocking, to thy muflcks wrong, 
 And drowns the fong. 
 Glorie and honour are fet by till it 
 
 An anfwerget. 
 
 Poets have wrong’d poore ftorms: fuch dayes are bed; 
 They purge the aire without, within the bread. 
 
 ^ Paradife. 
 
 I Blefle thee, Lord , becaufe I grow 
 A mong thy trees , which in a row 
 T o thee both fruit and order ow. 
 
 What open force, or hidden charm 
 C an blad my fruit, or bring me h a r m. 
 While the inclofure is thine a r m? 
 
 f 3 
 
 Inclofe 
 
1 26 The Church. 
 
 Inclofe me ftill for fear I start. 
 
 Be to me rather fharp and tart, 
 
 Then let me want thy hand & art. 
 
 When thou dofl greater judgements spare, 
 And with thy knife but prune and pare, 
 Ev’n fruitful! trees more fruitfull are. 
 
 Such ftiarpnes lhows the fweeteft frend: 
 Such cuttings rather heal then rend: 
 And fuch beginnings touch their end. 
 
 - — — — 
 
 •I The Method. 
 
 JP Oorc heart, lament. 
 
 For fince thy God refufeth ftill, 
 
 There is feme rub, fome difeontent, 
 
 Which cools his will. 
 
 Thy Father could 
 
 Quickly effedt, what thou doft move; 
 
 For he is Power: and fure h z would; 
 
 For he is Love . 
 
 Go fearch this thing, 
 Tumble thy breaft, and turn thy book. 
 
 If thou hadft loft a glove or ring, 
 
 Wouldft thou not look f 
 
 What do I fee 
 Written above there? T eft er day 
 I did behave me carelejly y 
 
 When 1 did pray. 
 
 And 
 
127 
 
 The Church. 
 
 And fhould Gods care 
 To fuch indifFerents chained be, 
 
 Who do not their own motions heare ? 
 
 Is God leffe free? 
 
 But flay! what’s there? 
 Late when I would have fame thing done , 
 1 bad a motion to forbear , 
 
 Yet 1 went on. 
 
 And fhould Gods eare, 
 Which needs not man, be ty’d to thofe 
 Who heare not him, but quickly heare 
 His utter foes/* 
 
 Then once more pray: 
 Down with thy knees, up with thy voice. 
 Seek pardon firft, and God will fay, 
 
 Glad heart rejoy ce. 
 
 % Divinitie. 
 
 A S men, for fear the ftarres Ihould fleep and nod. 
 And trip at night, have fpheres fuppli’d; 
 
 As if a ftarre were duller then a clod. 
 
 Which knows his way without a guide: 
 
 Juft fo the other heav’n they alfo ferve. 
 
 Divinities tranfeendent skie: 
 
 Which with the edge of wit they cut and carve. 
 Reafon triumphs, and faith lies by. 
 
 Could not that wifdome, which firft broacht the wine, 
 Have thicken’d it with definitions/* 
 
 And jagg’d his feamlefle coat, had that been fine, 
 With curious queftions and divilions? 
 
 F 4 But 
 
128 The Church. 
 
 Bat all the do&rine, which he taught and gave. 
 
 Was cleare as heav’n, from whence it came. 
 At leafl thofe beams of truth, which onely fave, 
 Surpafle in brightnefle any flame. 
 
 Love God , and love your neighbour . Watch and pray . 
 
 Do as ye would be done unto . 
 
 O dark inftru&ions; ev’n as dark as day! 
 
 Who can thefe Gordian knots undo? 
 
 But he doth bid us take his bloud for wine. 
 
 Bid what he pleafe; yet I am fure, 
 
 To take and tafle what he doth there deflgne, 
 
 Is all that faves, and not obfcure. 
 
 Then burn thy Epicycles, foolifli man; 
 
 Break all thy fpheres, and fave thy head. 
 Faith needs no ftaffe of flelh, but ftoutly can 
 To heav’n alone both go, and leade. 
 
 Ephef. 4-30. 
 
 Grieve not the Holy Spirit , &c. 
 
 A Nd art thou grieved, fweet and facred Dove, 
 When I amfowre, 
 
 And crofle thy love ? 
 
 Grieved for me? the God of ftrength and power 
 Griev’d for a worm, which when I tread, 
 
 I pafle away and leave it dead? 
 
 Then 
 
The Church. 129 
 
 Then weep mine eyes, the God of love doth grieve: 
 Weep foolifh heart. 
 
 And weeping live: 
 
 For death is drie as dull. Tet'if ye pr?t. 
 
 End as the night, whofe fable hue 
 Y our finnes expreffe; melt into dew. 
 
 When fawcie mirth fhall knock or call at doore. 
 
 Cry out. Get hence, 
 
 Or cry no more. 
 
 Almightie God doth grieve, he puts on fenfe ; 
 
 I linne not to my grief alone. 
 
 But to my Gods too; he doth grone. 
 
 Oh take thy lute, and tune it to a drain, 
 
 Which may with thee 
 All day complain. 
 
 There can no difcord but in ceafing be. 
 
 Marbles can weep; and furely firings 
 More bowels have, then fuch hard things, 
 
 Lord, I adjudge my felf to tears and grief, 
 
 Ev’n endleffe tears 
 Without relief. 
 
 If a cleare fpring for me no time forbears. 
 
 But runnes, although I be not drie; 
 
 I am no Cryflall, what fhall U 
 
 Yet if I wail not ftill, fince dill, to wail 
 Nature denies; 
 
 And flefh would fail, 
 
 If my deferts were maders of mine eyes: 
 
 Lord, pardon, for thy fonne makes good 
 My want of tears with dore of bloud. 
 
130 
 
 'The Church 
 
 IT The Familie. 
 
 W K& do&'thig noileWtno'ughts witbiri my heart 
 As if they had a part? 
 
 What do thefe loud complaints and pulling fears. 
 
 As if there were no rule or cares? 
 
 But, Lord, the houfe and familie are thine, 
 
 Though fome of them repine. 
 
 Turn out thefe wranglers, which defile thy feat: 
 
 For where thou dwelleft all is neat. 
 
 Firft Peace and Silence all difputes control!, 
 
 Then Order plaies the foul; 
 
 And giving all things their fet forms and houres. 
 Makes of wilde woods fweet walks and bowres. 
 
 Humble Obedience neare the doore doth Hand, 
 Bxpe&ing a command: 
 
 Then whom in waiting nothing feems more flow, 
 Nothing more quick when fhe doth go, 
 
 Joyesoft are there, and griefs as oftasjoyes; 
 
 But griefs without a noife: 
 
 Yet fpeak they louder, then diftemper’d fears. 
 
 What is fo flirill as filent tears? 
 
 This is thy houfe, with thefe it doth abound: 
 
 And where thefe are not found. 
 
 Perhaps thou corn’ll fometimes, and for a day; 
 
 But not to make a conflant flay. 
 
 3 The 
 
The Church . 
 
 131 
 
 5f The Size. 
 
 CjOntent thee, greedie heart. 
 
 Modeft and moderate joy cs to thofe, that have 
 Title to more hereafter when they part. 
 
 Are paffing brave. 
 
 Let th* upper fprings into the low 
 Defcend and fall, and thou doft flow. r 
 
 What though fome have a fraught 
 Of cloves and nutmegs, and in cinamon fail; 
 
 If thou haft wherewithal! to fpice a draught. 
 
 When griefs prevail; 
 
 And for the future time art heir 
 To th’Ifleof fpices? fs’tnot fair? 
 
 To be in both worlds full 
 Is more then God was, who was hungrie here. 
 Wouldft thou his laws of failing difanuil? 
 
 Ena& good cheer? 
 
 Lay out thy joy, yet hope to fave it? 
 
 Wouldft thou both eat thy cake, and have it? 
 
 Great joyes are all at once; 
 
 But little do referve themfelves for more: 
 
 Thofe have their hopes;thefe what they have renounce. 
 And live on fcore: 
 
 Thofe are at home; thefe journey ftill. 
 
 And meet the reft on Sions hill. 
 
 Thy Saviour fentenc’d joy. 
 
 And in the flefh condemn’d it as unfit. 
 
 At lead in lump: for fuch doth oft dcftroy; 
 
 Whereas a bit 
 
 Doth ticc us on to hopes of more. 
 
 And for the prefent health reftorc. 
 
 A 
 
132 The Church. 
 
 A Chriftians (late and cafe 
 Is not a corpulent, but a thinne and fpare. 
 
 Yet adtive ftrength: whole long and bonie face 
 Content and care 
 Do feem to equally divide. 
 
 Like a pretender,not a bride. 
 
 Wherefore fit down, good heart; 
 
 Grafp not at much, for fear thou lofeft all. 
 
 If comforts fell according to defert. 
 
 They would great frofts and fnows deftroy: 
 For wc fhould count,Since the laft joy. 
 
 Then clofe again thefeam. 
 
 Which thou haft open'd : do not fpread thy robe 
 In hope of great things. Call to minde thy dream. 
 An earthly globe. 
 
 On whofe meridian was engraven, 
 
 Tbefe feas are tears , and beav n the haven . 
 
 Artillerie. 
 
 A S lone ev’ningfat before my cell. 
 
 Me thoughts a ftarre did fhoot into my lap. 
 
 I rofe, and (hook my clothes, as knowing well. 
 That from fmall fires comes oft not fmall miftiap. 
 When fuddenly I heard one lay, 
 rDo as thou ufeft, d if obey , 
 
 Expel l good motions from thy breaft> 
 
 Which have the face of fire, but end in reft . 
 
 I, 
 
T’he Church. 
 
 *3 3 
 
 I, who had heard of mufick in the fpheres. 
 But not of fpeech in ftarres, began to mufe: 
 But turning to my God, whofeminifters 
 The ftarres and all things are; If I refufe. 
 Dread Lord,faid I,fo oft my good; 
 Then I refufe not ev’n with bloud 
 Towafh away my ftubborn thought: 
 For I will do, or fufFer what I ought. 
 
 But I have alfo ftarres and {hooters too. 
 
 Born where thy fervants both artilleries ufe. 
 My tears and prayers night and day do wooe, 
 And work up to thee; yet thou doft refufe. 
 
 Not, but I am ( I muft fay ftill ) 
 
 Much more oblig’d to do thy will. 
 
 Then thou to grant mine: but becaufe 
 Thy promife now hath ev’n fet thee thy laws. 
 
 Then we are {hooters both, and thou doft deigne 
 To enter combate with us, and conteft 
 With thine own clay. But I would parley fain: 
 Shunne not my arrows, and behold my breaft. 
 Yet if thou fhunneft, I am thine: 
 
 I muft be fo, if I am mine. 
 
 There is no articling with thee: 
 
 I am but finite, yet thine infinitely. 
 
 Church 
 
134 ‘The Church . 
 
 Church-rents and fchifmes. 
 
 B Rave rofe, ( alas! ) where art thou? in the chair 
 Where thou didft lately fo triumph and fhine, 
 
 A worm doth fit, whole 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 fteps do crufh andgrinde 
 Their beauteous glories. Onely fhreds of thee, 
 And thofe all bitten, in thy chair I fee. 
 
 Why doth my Mother blufh? is fhe the rofe. 
 
 And fhows itfo? Indeed Chrifts precious bloud 
 Gave you a colour once } which when your foes 
 Thought to let out, the bleeding did you good, 
 
 And made you look much frefher then before. 
 
 But when debates and fretting jealoufies 
 
 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 fev’rall parts unloofe and ftart: 
 
 Which when your neighbours faw,like a north-winde, 
 They rulhed in, and call them in the dirt 
 Where Pagans tread. O Mother deare and kinde, 
 Where fhall I get me eyes enough to weep, 
 
 As many eyes as ftarres? fince it is night, 
 
 And much of Afia and Europe fall afleep. 
 
 And ev’n all Africk; would at lead I might 
 
 With thefe two poore ones lick up all the dew, 
 Which falls by night, and poure it out for you! 
 
 IF Juftice. 
 
*35 
 
 The Church , 
 f Juftice. 
 
 O Dreadfull Juftice, what a fright and terrour 
 Waft thou of old. 
 When finne and errour 
 Did ihow and ihape thy looks to me, 
 
 And through their glafle difcolour thee! 
 He that did but look up, was proud and bold. 
 
 The diihes of thy ballance feem’d to gape. 
 
 Like two great pits; 
 
 The beam and fcape 
 Did like fome tort’ring engine ihow: 
 
 Thy hand above did burn and glow, 
 Danting the ftouteft hearts, the proudeft wits. 
 
 But now that Chrifts pure vail prefents the fight, 
 
 I fee no fears: 
 
 Thy hand is white. 
 
 Thy fcales like buckets,which attend 
 And interchangeably defcend , 
 
 Lifting to heaven from this well of tears. 
 
 For where before thou ftill didft call on me, 
 
 Now I ftill touch 
 And harp on thee. 
 
 Gods promifes have made thee mine; 
 
 Why ihould I juftice now decline f 
 Againft me there is none, but for me much. 
 
 The Pilgrimage. 
 
 I Travelfd on,feeing the hill, where lay 
 My expectation, 
 
 A long it was and weary way. 
 
 The gloomy cave of Defperation 
 I left on th* one, and on the other fide 
 
 T he rock of Pride. A nd 
 
136 The Church. 
 
 And fo I came to phanfies medow ftrow’d 
 
 With many a flower: 
 Fain would I here have made abode, 
 But I was quicken’d by my houre. 
 
 So to cares cops I came, and there got through 
 With much ado. 
 
 That led me to the wilde of paflion, which 
 Some call the wold; 
 
 A wafted place, but fometimes rich. 
 Here I was robb’d of all my gold, 
 
 Save one good Angell, which a friend had ti’d 
 Clofe to my fide. 
 
 At length I got unto the gladfome hill, 
 
 Where lay my hope. 
 Where lay my heart;and climbing ftill. 
 When I had gain’d the brow and top, 
 
 A lake of brackifh waters on the ground 
 Was all I found. 
 
 With that abalh’d and ftruck with many a fling 
 Of fwarming fears, 
 
 I fell, and cry’d, Alas my King; 
 
 Can both the way and end be tears.* 
 
 Yet taking heart I rofe, and then perceiv’d 
 I was deceiv’d: 
 
 My hill was further: fo I flung away, 
 
 Yet heard aerie 
 
 Juft as I one goes that way 
 
 And lives : If that be all,faid I, 
 
 After fofoul a journey death is fair, 
 
 And but a chair. 
 
The Church. 137 
 
 f The Holdfaft. 
 
 I Threatned to obferve the ftridt decree 
 
 Of my deare God with all my power & might. 
 But I was told by one, it could not be ; 
 
 Yet I might trull in God to be my light. 
 
 Then will I trull, faid I, in him alone. 
 
 Nay, ev’n to trull in him,was alfo his: 
 
 We mull confe!Te,that nothing is our own. 
 
 Then I confeiTe that he myfuccouris: 
 
 But to have nought is ours, not to confeiTe 
 
 That we have nought. I Hood amaz’d at this, 
 Much troubled, till I heard a friend exprelTe, 
 That all things were more ours by being his. 
 
 What Adam had, and forfeited for all, 
 
 Chrill keepeth now, who cannot fail or fall. 
 
 iF Complaining. 
 
 D O not beguile my heart, 
 
 Becaufe thou art 
 
 My power and wifdome. Put me not to fhame, 
 Becaufe I am 
 
 Thy clay that weeps, thy dull that calls. 
 
 Thou art the Lord of glorie ; 
 
 The deed and Horie 
 Are both thy due: but I a filly Hie, 
 
 That live or die 
 According as the weather falls. 
 
 Art thou all jullice,Lord? 
 
 Shows not thy word 
 
 More attributes? Am I all throat or eye, 
 
 To weep or crie? 
 
 Have I no parts but thofe of grief? 
 
 Let 
 
138 
 
 The Church. 
 
 Let not thy wrathfull power 
 Afrli# my houre, 
 
 My inch of life: or let thy gracious power 
 Contra# my houre. 
 That I may climbe and finde relief. 
 
 The Difcharge. 
 
 B ll fie enquiring heart, what wouldft thou know? 
 
 Why doll thou prie. 
 
 And turn, and leer, and with a licorous eye 
 Look high and low ; 
 
 And in thy lookings llretch and grow/" 
 
 Haft thou not made thy counts, and fumm’d up all ? 
 
 Did not thy heart 
 
 Give up the whole, and with the whole depart ? 
 
 Let what will fall: 
 
 That which is paft who can recall? 
 
 Thy life is Gods, 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 fown. 
 
 And well it was for thee, when this befell. 
 
 That God did make 
 
 Thy bufineffe his, and in thy life partake: 
 
 For thou can ft tell’; 
 
 If it be his once, all is well. 
 
 Onely the prefent is thy part and fee. 
 
 And happy thou, 
 
 If, though thou didft not beat thy future brow. 
 
 Thou couldft well fee 
 What prefent things requir’d of thee. 
 
 They 
 
The Church. 139 
 
 They ask enough; why fhouldft thou further go? 
 
 , Raife 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 prefent fit: if he provide. 
 
 He breaks the fquare. 
 
 This houre is mine:if for the next I care, 
 
 I grow too wide. 
 
 And do encroach upon deaths fide. 
 
 For death each houre environs and furrounds. 
 
 He that would know 
 And care for future chances, cannot go 
 
 Unto thofe grounds. 
 
 But through a Church-yard which the bouds. 
 
 Things prefent fhrink and die: but they that fpend 
 Their thoughts and fenfe 
 On future grief, do not remove it thence, 
 
 But it extend , 
 
 And draw the bottome out an end. 
 
 God chains the dog till night: wilt loofe the chain, 
 And wake thy forrow* 
 
 Wilt thouforeflal! it, and now grieve to morrow, 
 
 And then again 
 
 Greive over frefhly all thy pain? 
 
 Either grief will not come: or if it mutt, 
 
 Do not forecaft. 
 
 And while it cometh, it is almoft paft. 
 
 Away diftruft: 
 
 My God hath promis'd, he is juft. 
 
 U Praife. 
 
1 40 The Church. 
 
 f Praife. 
 
 K ing of Glorie, King of Peace, 
 
 I will love thee : 
 
 And that love may never ceafe, 
 
 I will move thee. 
 
 Thou had: granted my requeft. 
 
 Thou hall heard me: 
 Thou didft note my working bread:. 
 Thou had fpar’d me. 
 
 Wherefore with my utmod art 
 I will dng thee. 
 
 And the cream of all my heart 
 I will bring thee. 
 
 Though my finnes againd me cried, 
 
 Thou diddcleare me; 
 And alone, when they replied. 
 
 Thou diddheare me. 
 
 Sev’n whole dayes, not one in feven, 
 
 I will praife thee. 
 
 In my heart, though not in heaven, 
 
 I can raife thee. 
 
 Thou grew’ft foft and moid with tears, 
 Thou relentedd: 
 And when Judice call’d for fears. 
 Thou diflentedd. 
 
 Small it is, in this poore fort 
 
 To enroll thee: 
 
 Ev’n etemitie is too fhort 
 
 To extoll thee. 
 
The Church, 141 
 
 An Offering. 
 
 C Ome, bring thy gift. If bleffings were as flow 
 As mens returns, what would become of fools ? 
 What haft thou there/ 5 a heart/ 5 but is it pure/ 
 
 Search well and fee; for hearts have many holes. 
 
 Yet one pure heart is nothing to beftow: 
 
 In Chrift two natures met to be thy cure. 
 
 O that within us hearts had propagation, 
 
 Since many gifts do challenge many hearts ! 
 
 Yet one, if good, may title to a number; 
 
 And fingle things grow fruitfull by defer ts. 
 
 In publick judgements one may be a nation, 
 
 And fence a plague, while others fleep and ft amber. 
 
 But all I fear is left thy heart difpleafe. 
 
 As neither good, nor one: fo oft divilions 
 Thy lufts have made, and not thy lulls alone; 
 
 Thy paflions alfo have their fet partitions, 
 
 Thefe parcell out thy heart: recover thefe. 
 
 And thou mayft offer many gifts in one. 
 
 There is a balfome, or indeed a bloud, ( clofc 
 
 Dropping from heav’n, which doth both cleanfe and 
 All forts of wounds; of fuch ftrange force it is. 
 
 Seek out this All-heal, and feek no repofe, 
 
 U ntill thou finde and ufe it to thy good: 
 
 Then bring thy gift;and let thy hymne be this; 
 
 Since my fadneffe 
 Into gladneffe 
 Lord thou doll convert, 
 
 O accept 
 
 What thou haft kept, 
 
 As thy due defert. 
 
 Had 
 
142 The Church. 
 
 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 favour 
 To this poore oblation ; 
 
 And it raife 
 To be thy praife, 
 And be my falvation. 
 
 1 Longing. 
 
 V Jth fick and famifht eyes, 
 With doubling knees and weary bones, 
 
 To thee my cries. 
 
 To thee my grones. 
 
 To thee my lighs,my tears afcend: 
 
 No end? 
 
 My throat, my foul is hoarfe; 
 
 My heart is wither’d like a ground 
 
 Which thou doft curfe. 
 My thoughts turn round, 
 And make me giddie; Lord, I fall, 
 
 Yet call. 
 
 From thee all pitie flows. 
 Mothers are kinde, becaufe thou art, 
 
 And doftdifpofe 
 To them a part: 
 
 Their infants, them; and they fuck thee 
 More free. 
 
! The Church . 1 43 
 
 Bowels of pitie, heare! 
 
 Lord of my foul, love of my minde, 
 
 Bow down thine eare! 
 
 Let not the winde 
 Scatter my words, and in the fame 
 Thy name! 
 
 Look on my forrows round! 
 
 Mark well my furnace ! O what flames. 
 
 What heats abound! 
 
 What griefs, what fhames ! 
 
 Conlider, Lord; Lord, bow thine eare. 
 
 And heare ! 
 
 Lord Jefu, thou didft bow 
 Thy dying head upon the tree: 
 
 O be not now 
 More dead to me! 
 
 Lord heare! S hall be that made the eare , 
 
 Not heare? 
 
 Behold, thy duft doth ftirre. 
 
 It moves, it creeps, it aims at thee: 
 
 Wilt thoudeferre 
 To fuccour me, 
 
 Thy pile of duft, wherein each crumme 
 Sayes, Comef 
 
 To thee help appertains. 
 
 Haft thou left all things to their courfe, 
 
 And laid the reins 
 Upon the horfe^ 
 
 I3 all loekt? hath a finners plea 
 No key? 
 
 Indeed 
 
144 TA? Church. 
 
 Indeed the world's thy book. 
 Where all things have their leafe aflign’d: 
 
 Yet a meek look 
 Hath interlin'd* 
 
 Thy board is full, yet humble guefts 
 Finde nefts. 
 
 Thou tarrieft, while I die. 
 
 And fall to nothing : thou doft reigne, 
 
 And rule on high, 
 While I remain 
 In bitter grief : yet am I ftifd 
 
 Thy childe. 
 
 Lord,didft thou leave thy throne, 
 Not to relieve? how can it be , 
 
 That thou art grown 
 Thus hard to me? 
 
 Were finne alive, good caufe there were 
 To bear. 
 
 But now both finne is dead, 
 
 And all thy promifes live and bide. 
 
 That wants his head; 
 Thefe fpeak and chide. 
 And in thy bofome poure my tears, 
 
 As theirs. 
 
 Lord J e s u, heare my heart. 
 
 Which hath been broken nowfo long, 
 
 That ev'ry part 
 Hath got a tongue ! 
 Thy beggars grow; rid them away 
 
The Church. 145 
 
 My love, my fweetneffe, heare! 
 
 By thefe thy feet, at which my heart 
 
 Lies all the yeare, 
 
 Pluck out thy dart. 
 
 And heal my troubled breaft which cryes, 
 
 Which dyes. 
 
 f The Bag. 
 
 A Way defpair ; my gracious Lord doth heare. 
 Though windes and waves aflault my keel, 
 He doth preferve it : he doth fteer, 
 
 Ev’n when the boatfeems moft to reel. 
 Storms are the triumph of his art: 
 
 Well may he clofe his eyes, but not his heart. 
 
 Haft thou not heard, that my Lord Jesus di’d ? 
 Then let me tell thee a ftrange ftorie. 
 
 The God of power, as he did ride 
 In his majeftick robes of glorie, 
 
 Refolv’d to light ; and fo one day 
 He did defcend, undrefsing all the way. 
 
 The ftarres his tire of light and rings obtain’d, 
 
 The cloud his bow, the fire his fpear. 
 
 The sky his azure mantle gain’d. 
 
 And when they ask’d, what he would wear ; 
 Hefmii’d andfaid 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 finne: 
 
 And having giv’n the reft before, 
 
 Here he gave up his life to pay our fcore. 
 
 But 
 
146 The Church . 
 
 But as he was returning, there came one 
 That ran upon him with a fpear. 
 
 He, who came hither all alone. 
 
 Bringing nor man,nor arms, nor fear, 
 Receiv’d the blow upon his fide, 
 
 And ftraight he turn’d, and to his brethren cry’d. 
 
 If ye have any thing to fend or write, 
 
 (I have no bag, but here is room) 
 
 Unto my fathers hands and fight 
 (Beleeve me) it {hall fafely come. 
 
 That I fhall minde,what you impart; 
 
 Look, you may put it very neare my heart. 
 
 Or if hereafter any of my friends 
 
 Will ufe me in this kinde,the doore 
 Shall ftill be open 5 what he fends 
 I will prefent,and fomewhat more, 
 
 Not to his hurt. Sighs will convey 
 
 Any thing to me. Heark defpair, away. 
 
 ^1 The Jews. 
 
 P bore nation, whofe fweet fap, and juice 
 Our cyens have purloin’d, and left you drie: 
 
 Whofe ftreams we got by the Apoftles fluce. 
 
 And ufe in baptifme, while ye pine and die: 
 
 Who by not keeping once, became a debter; 
 
 And now by keeping lofe the letter: 
 
 Oh that my prayers! mine, alas! 
 
 Oh that fome Angel might a trumpet found; 
 
 At which the Church falling upon her face 
 Should crie fo loud, untill the trump were drown’d, 
 And by that crie of her deare Lord obtain, 
 
 That your fweet fap might come again! 
 
 IF The 
 
1 47 
 
 The Church. 
 
 The Collar. 
 
 I Struck the board, and cry’d, No more. 
 
 I will abroad. 
 
 What? fhall I ever figh and pine? 
 
 My lines and life are free; free as the rode, 
 
 Loofe as the winde, as large as ftore. 
 
 Shall I be Hill in fuit? 
 
 Have I no harveft but a thorn 
 To let me bloud, and not reftore 
 What I have loft with cordiall fruit? 
 
 Sure there was wine 
 Before my lighs did drie it: there was corn 
 Before my tears did drown it. 
 
 Is the yeare onely loft to me? 
 
 Have I no bayes to crown it? 
 
 No flowers, no garlands gay f all blafted? 
 
 All wafted? 
 
 Notfo,my heart: but there is fruit. 
 
 And thou haft hands. 
 Recover all thy figh-blown age 
 On double pleafures: leave thy cold difpute 
 Of what is fit, and not forfake thy cage. 
 
 Thy rope of fands, 
 
 Which pettie thoughts have made, and made to thee 
 Good cable, to enforce and draw. 
 
 And be thy law. 
 
 While thou didft wink and wouldft not fee. 
 Away; take heed: 
 
 I will abroad. 
 
 Call in thy deaths head there: tie up thy fears. 
 
 He that forbears 
 To fuit and ferve his need, 
 
 Deferves his load. 
 
 But as I rav’d and grew more fierce and wilde 
 At every word. 
 
 Me thoughts I heard one calling, Cbilde: 
 
 And I reply’d, My Lord , 
 
148 The Church . 
 
 The Glimpfe. 
 
 Hither away delight? 
 
 Thou earn’d but now; wilt thou fo foon depart* 
 And give me up to night? 
 
 For many weeks of lingring pain and fmart 
 But one half houre of comfort for my heart? 
 
 Me thinks delight fhould have 
 More skill in muhck, and keep better time. 
 
 Wert thou a winde or wave, 
 
 They quickly go and come with lefTer crime: 
 Flowers look about, and die not in their prime. 
 
 Thy fhort abode and flay 
 Feeds not, but addes to the defire of meat. 
 
 Lime begg’d of old ( they fay ) 
 
 A neighbour fpring to cool his inward heat; 
 
 Which by the fprings accede grew much more great. 
 
 In hope of thee my heart 
 
 Pickt here and there a crumme, and would not die; 
 
 But conftant to his part 
 When as my fears foretold this, did replie, 
 
 A (lender thread a gentle gueft will tie. 
 
 Yet if the heart that wept 
 Muft let thee go, return when it doth knock. 
 
 Although thy heap be kept 
 For future times, the droppings of the (lock 
 May oft break forth, and never break the lock. 
 
 If I have more to fpinne, 
 
 The wheel fhall go, fo that thy flay be fhort. 
 
 Thou knowll how grief and finne 
 Difturb the work. O make me not their fport, 
 
 Who by thy coming may be made a court! 
 
 ^ A durance. 
 
The Church . 
 
 *49 
 
 Affurance. 
 
 O Spitefull bitter thought! 
 
 Bitterly fpitefull thought! Couldil thou invent 
 So high a torture? Is fuch poyfon bought? 
 
 DoubtlefTe, but in the way of punifhment, 
 
 When wit contrives to meet with thee. 
 
 No fuch rank poyfon can there be. 
 
 Thou faid’il but even now, 
 
 That all was not fo 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 caufe to fear it. 
 
 And what to this? what more 
 Could poyfon, if it had a tongue, exprefle? 
 
 What is thy aim? wouldil thou unlock the doore 
 To cold defpairs,and gnawing penfiveneffe? 
 
 Wouldil thou raife devils? I fee, I know, 
 
 I writ thy purpofe long ago. 
 
 But I will to my Father, 
 
 W ho heard thee fay it. O moil gracious Lord , 
 
 If all the hope and comfort that I gather, 
 
 Were from my felf, I had not half a word, 
 
 Not half a letter to oppofe 
 What is obje&ed by my foes. 
 
 But thou art my defert; 
 
 And in this league, which now my foes invade, 
 
 Thou art not onely to perform thy part. 
 
 But alfo mine; as when the league was made 
 Thou didfl at once thy felf indite, 
 
 And hold my hand, while I did write. 
 
 G 3 Wherefore 
 
150 The Church. 
 
 Wherefore if thou canft fail. 
 
 Then can thy truth and I: but while rocks ftand. 
 And rivers ftirre, thou canft not fhrink or quail: 
 
 Yea, when both rocks and all things fhall disband. 
 Then (halt thou be my rock and tower, 
 
 And make their ruine praife thy power. 
 
 Now foolifh thought go on, 
 
 Spin out thy thread, and make thereof a coat 
 To hide thy fhame: for thou haft call a bone 
 Which bounds on thee, and will not down thy throat: 
 What for it felf love once began, 
 
 Now love and truth will end in man. 
 
 The Call. 
 
 C Ome, my Way, my Truth, my Life: 
 Such a Way, as gives us breath: 
 
 Such a Truth, as ends all llrife: 
 
 And fuch a Life, as killeth death. 
 
 Come, my Light, my Feaft, my Strength: 
 Such a Light, as ftiows a feaft: 
 
 Such a Feaft, as mends in length: 
 
 Such a Strength, as makes his gueft. 
 
 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. 
 
 Clafping 
 
The Church. 
 
 151 
 
 IT Clafping of hands. 
 
 L Ord, thou art mine, and I am thine, 
 
 If mine I am : and thine much more, 
 
 Then I or ought, or can be mine. 
 
 Yet to be thine, doth me reftore; 
 
 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 doft thee reftore. 
 
 If I without thee would be mine, 
 
 I neither ihould be mine nor thine. 
 
 Lord, I am thine, and thou art mine: 
 
 So mine thou art, that fomething more 
 I may prefume thee mine, then thine. 
 
 For thou didft fuffer to reftore 
 Not thee, but me, and to be mine: 
 
 And with advantage mine the more, 
 
 Since thou in death waft none of thine. 
 
 Yet then as mine didft me reftore. 
 
 O be mine ftill! ftill make me thine! 
 
 Or rather make no Thine and Mine! 
 
 *[[ Praife. 
 
 L Ord, I will mean and fpeak thy praife, 
 Thy praife alone. 
 
 My bufte heart fhall fpin it all my dayes : 
 
 And when it ftops for want of ftore. 
 
 Then will I wring it with a figh or grone, 
 
 That thou mayft yet have more. 
 
 g 4 
 
 When 
 
152 The Church, 
 
 When thou doft favour any a&ion, 
 
 It runnes, it flies : 
 
 All things concurre to give it a perfection. 
 
 That which had but two legs before, 
 
 When thou doft blefle, hath twelve:one wheel doth rife 
 To twentie then, or more. 
 
 But when thou doft on buftnefle 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 ftumps, and Pharaohs wheels but logs. 
 And ftruggling hinders more. 
 
 THoufands of things do thee employ 
 In ruling all 
 
 This fpacious globe: Angels muft have their joy. 
 Devils their rod, the fea his fhore, 
 
 The windes their ftint: and yet when I did call. 
 
 Thou heardft my call, and more. 
 
 I have not loft one Angle tear : 
 
 But when mine eyes 
 Did weep to heav’n, they found a bottle there 
 ( As we have boxes for the poore) 
 
 Readie to take them in; yet of a Aze 
 
 That would contain much more. 
 
 But after thou hadft flipt a drop 
 
 From thy right eye, 
 
 (Which there did hang like ftreamers neare the top 
 Of fome fair church to fhow the fore 
 And bloudie battell which thou once didft trie) 
 
 The glafle was full and more. 
 
 Wherefore 
 
¥ he Church. 153 
 
 Wherefore I fing. Yet fince my heart, 
 
 Though prefs’d^unnes thin; 
 
 O that I might fome other hearts convert, 
 And fo take up at ufe good ftore: 
 
 That to thy chefts there might be coming in 
 
 y^Ounded I fing, tormented I indite, 
 
 v 1 hrown down I fall into a bed, and reft : 
 Sorrow hath chang’d its note: fuch is his will, 
 Who changeth all things, as him pleafeth beft. 
 
 For well he knows, if but one grief and fmart 
 Among my many had his full career, 
 
 Sure it would carrie with it ev’n my heart, 
 
 And both would runne untill they found a biere 
 To fetch the bodie; both being due to grief. 
 But he hath fpoil’d the race; and giv’n to anguifh 
 One of Joyes coats, ticing it with relief 
 To linger in me, and together languifh. 
 
 I live to fhew his power, who once did bring 
 My joyes to weepy and now my griefs to fing . 
 
 Having a glafle of blefiings Handing by; 
 Let us ffaid he ) poure on him all we can: 
 Let the worldsriches, which difperfed lie, 
 
 Both all my praife, and more l 
 
 IT Jofephs coat. 
 
 f The Pulley. 
 
 'en God at firft made man, 
 
 Contrail into a fpan. 
 
 G5 
 
 So 
 
154 The Church. 
 
 So ftrength firft made a way; 
 
 Then beautie flow’d, then wifdome, honour,pleafure: 
 When almoft all was out, God made a flay, 
 
 Perceiving that alone of all his treafure 
 
 Reft in the bottome lay. 
 
 For ifl fhould ( faid he ) 
 
 Beftow this jewell alfo on my creature , 
 
 He would adore my gifts in ftead of me. 
 
 And reft in Nature, not the God of Nature. 
 
 So both ftiould lofers be. 
 
 Yet let him keep the reft, 
 
 But keep them with repining reftlefnefle: 
 
 Let him be rich and wearie, that at leaft, 
 
 If goodnefie leade him not, yet wearinefle 
 May tofle him to my breaft. 
 
 The Priefthood. 
 
 B Left Order, which in power doft fo excell, 
 That with th'one hand thou lifteft to the sky. 
 And with the other throweft down to hell 
 In thy juft cenfures; fain would I draw nigh. 
 
 Fain put thee on, exchanging my lay-fword 
 For that of th’ holy word. 
 
 But thou art fire,facred and hallow’d fire; 
 
 And I but earth and clay: fhould I prefume 
 To wear thy habit, the fevere attire 
 My (lender compofttions might confume. 
 
 I am both foul and brittle ; much unfit 
 To deal in holy Writ. 
 
 Yet 
 
J 55 
 
 The Church. 
 
 Yet have I often feen,by canning hand 
 And force of fire, what curious things are made 
 Of wretched earth. Where once I fcorn’d to Hand, 
 That earth is fitted by the fire and trade 
 Of skiifull artifts, for the boards of thofe 
 
 Who make the braveft ftiows. 
 
 But fince thofe great ones , be they ne’re fo great. 
 Come from the earth,from whence thofe vefiels come; 
 So that at once both feeder, difh, and meat 
 Have one beginning and one finallfumme: 
 
 I do not greatly wonder at the fight. 
 
 If earth in earth delight. 
 
 But th’holy men of God fuch vefiels are, 
 
 As ferve him up, who all the world commands: 
 
 When God vouchfafeth to become our fare. 
 
 Their hands conuey him, who conveys their hands. 
 
 O what pure things, moft pure mull thofe things be, 
 Who bring my God to me ! 
 
 Wherefore I dare not, I, put forth my hand 
 To hold the Ark, although it feem to fhake 
 Through th’old finnes and newdo&rines of our land . 
 Onely, fince God doth often vefiels make 
 Of lowly matter for high ufes meet, 
 
 I throw me at his feet. 
 
 There will I lie, untill my Maker feek 
 
 For fome mean ftuffe whereon to (how his skill: 
 
 Then is my time. The diftance of the meek 
 Doth flatter power. Left good come fhortof ill 
 In praifing might, the poore do by fubmiflion 
 What pride by oppofition. 
 
 T The 
 
I 5 d The Church. 
 
 IT The Search. 
 
 Hither, O, whither art thou fled, 
 
 My Lord, my Love ? - 
 
 My fearches are my daily bread ; 
 
 Yet never prove. 
 
 My knees pierce th’earth, mine eies the skie 
 And yetthefphere 
 
 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 ftarres above 
 
 Simper and fhine. 
 
 As having keyes unto thy love. 
 
 While poore I pine. 
 
 I fent a ligh to feek thee out, 
 
 Deep drawn in pain, 
 
 Wing’d like an arrow: but my fcout 
 Returns in vain. 
 
 I tun’d another ( having ftore) 
 Intoagrone; 
 
 Becaufe the fearch was dumbe before: 
 
 But all was one. 
 
 Lord, doll thou fome new fabrick mold 
 Which favour winnes. 
 
 And keeps thee prefent, leaving th’ old 
 Unto their finnesf 
 
The Church. 1 57 
 
 Where is my God? what hidden place 
 Conceals thee Hill? 
 
 What covert dare eclipfe thy face ? 
 
 Is it thy will? 
 
 O let not that of any thing; 
 
 Let rather bralle. 
 
 Or fteel, or mountains be thy ring, 
 
 And I will pafle. 
 
 Thy will fuch an intrenching is, 
 
 As pafleth thought! 
 
 To it all flrength, all fubtildes 
 
 Are things of nought. 
 
 Thy will fuch a ftrange diftance is, 
 
 As that to it 
 
 Eaft and Weft touch, the poles do kifie. 
 
 And parallels meet. 
 
 Since then my grief muft be as large. 
 
 As is thy fpace. 
 
 Thy diftance from me; fee my charge. 
 
 Lord, fee my cafe. 
 
 O take thefe barres, thefe lengths away ; 
 
 Turn, and reftore me: 
 
 Be not Almightie, let me fay, 
 
 Againft, but for me. 
 
 When thou doft turn, and wilt be neare; 
 
 What edge fo keen. 
 
 What pointfo piercing can appeare 
 To come between? 
 
 For as thy abfence doth excell 
 
 All diftance known: 
 
 So doth thy nearenefle bear the bell. 
 
 Making two one. 
 
 1 Grief 
 
1 58 
 
 The Church. 
 if Grief. 
 
 O Who will give me tears?Come all ye fprings, 
 Dwell in my head & eyes: come clouds,& rain: 
 My grief hath need of all the watry things, 
 
 That nature hath produc’d. Let ev’ry vein 
 Suck up a river to fupply mine eyes. 
 
 My weary weeping eyes too drie for me, 
 
 Unlefle they get new conduits,newfupplies 
 To^bear them out,and with my ftate agree. 
 
 What are two lhallow foords, two little fpouts 
 Of a lefle world? the greater is but fmall, 
 
 A narrow cupboard for my griefs and doubts. 
 Which want provifion in the midft of all. 
 
 Verfes,ye are too fine a thing, too wife 
 
 For my rough forrows: ceafe,be dumbe and mute. 
 
 Give up your feet and running to mine eyes. 
 
 And keep your meafures for fome lovers lute, 
 Whofe grief allows him mufick and a ryme: 
 
 For mine excludes both meafure,tune, and time. 
 
 Alas, my God! 
 
 i The CroiTe. 
 
 Wh„ is this ftrange and uncouth thing? 
 To make me figh, and leek, and faint, and die. 
 Untill I had fome place, where Imightfing, 
 Andferve thee; and not onely I, 
 
 But*all my wealth, and familie might combine 
 To fet thy honour up, as our defigne. 
 
 And 
 
159 
 
 The Church. 
 
 And then when after much delay, 
 
 Much wraflling,many a combate, this deare end, 
 
 So much defir’d, isgiv’n, to take away 
 
 My power to ferve thee ; to unbend 
 All my abilities, my delignes confound, 
 
 And lay my threatnings bleeding on the ground. 
 
 One ague dwelleth in my bones, 
 
 Another in my foul (the memorie 
 What I would do for thee, if once my grones 
 Could be allow’d for harmonie) 
 
 I am in all a weakdifabled thing. 
 
 Save in the fight thereof, where flrength doth fling. 
 
 Befides,things fort not to my will, 
 
 Ev’n when my will doth fludie thy renown: 
 
 Thou turnefl th’ edge of all things on me flill, 
 
 Taking me up to throw me down: 
 
 So that, ev’n when my hopes feem to be fped, 
 
 1 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 midfl of delicates to need, 
 
 And ev’n m Paradife to be a weed. 
 
 Ah my deare Father, eafe my fmart! 
 
 Thefe contrarieties crufh me: thefe croffe a&ions 
 Doe winde a rope about, and cut my heart: 
 
 And yet fince thefe thy contradidlions 
 Are properly a croffe felt by thy fonne, 
 
 With but foure words, my words, Tby will be do?ie . 
 
 IT The 
 
i6o 
 
 The Church. 
 ^ The Flower. 
 
 How frefh, O Lord,how fweet and clean 
 Are thy returns ! ev’n as the flowers in fpring; 
 
 To which, befides their own demean. 
 
 The late-paft frofls tributes of pleafure bring. 
 
 Grief melts away 
 Like fnow in May, 
 
 As if there were no fuch cold thing. 
 
 Who would have thought my fhrivefd heart 
 Could have recover’d green nefle? It was gone 
 
 Quite under ground ; as flowers depart 
 To fee their mother-root, when they have blown ; 
 
 Where they together 
 All the hard weather, 
 
 Dead to the world, keep houfe unknown. 
 
 Thefe are thy wonders,Lord of power. 
 Killing and quickning,bringingdown to hell 
 
 And up to heaven in an houre; 
 
 Making a chiming of a pafling-bell. 
 
 We fay amifle. 
 
 This or that is: 
 
 Thy word is all, if we could fpell. 
 
 O that I once pafl changing were. 
 
 Fall in thy Paradife, where no flower can wither! 
 
 Many a fpring I fhoot up fair, 
 
 OfFring at heav’n, growing and groning thither: 
 
 Nor doth my flower 
 . Want a fpnng-fhowre, 
 
 My finnes and I joining together: 
 
 But 
 
The Church. 1 6 1 
 
 But while I grow in a ftraight line, 
 
 S till upwards bent, as if heav’n were mine own, 
 
 Thy anger comes, and I decline: 
 
 What froft to that? what pole is not the zone, 
 
 Where all things burn, 
 
 When thou doll turn, 
 
 And the lead frown of thine is fhown? 
 
 And now in age I bud again, 
 
 After fo many deaths I live and write; 
 
 I once more fmell the dew and rain, 
 
 And relifh verfing: O my onely light, 
 
 It cannot be 
 That I am he 
 
 On whom thy tempells fell all night. 
 
 Thefe are thy wonders,Lord of love. 
 
 To make us fee we are but flowers that glide: 
 
 Which when we once can finde and prove, 
 Thou hall a garden for us, where to bide. 
 
 Who would be more, 
 
 Swelling through llore, 
 
 Forfeit their Paradife by their pride. 
 
 Dotage. 
 
 F Alfe glozing pleafures, casks of happinefle, 
 
 Foolilh night-fires, womens and childrens wifhes. 
 Chafes in Arras , guilded emptinefle, 
 
 Shadows well mounted, dreams in a career. 
 Embroider’d lyes, nothing between two dilhes; 
 
 Thefe are the pleafures here. 
 True earnell forrows, rooted miferies, 
 
 Anguifh in grain, vexations ripe and blown, 
 Sure-footed griefs ,folid calamities, 
 
 Plain demonllrations, evident and cleare, 
 
 Fetching their proofs ev’n from the very bone; 
 
 Thefe are the forrows here. But 
 
162 
 
 The Church. 
 
 But oh the folly of diltradted men, 
 
 Who griefs in earneft, joyes in jell purfue; 
 Preferring, like brute beafts, a lothfome den 
 Before a court, ev’n that above fo cleare, 
 Where are no forrows, but delights more true. 
 Then miferies are here! 
 
 ^ The Sonne. 
 
 L Et forrain nations of their language boaft, 
 What fine varietie each tongue affords: 
 i like our language, as our men and coafl: 
 
 Who cannot dreffeit well, want wit, not words. 
 How neatly doe we give one onely name 
 To parents iffue and the funnes bright ftarre! 
 
 A fonne is light and fruit; a fruitfull flame 
 Chafing the fathers dimnefle, carri’d farre 
 From the firlt man in th* Eaft,tofrefh and new 
 Weflern difcov’ries of pofteritie. 
 
 So in one word our Lords humilitie 
 We turn upon him in a fenfe molt true: 
 
 For what Chrift once in humblenefle began. 
 We him in glorie call. The Sonne of Man . 
 
 ^ A true Hymne. 
 
 My joy, my life, my crown! 
 
 My heart was meaning all the day. 
 
 Somewhat it fain would fay: 
 
 Andftill it runneth muttVing up and down 
 With onely this. My joy, my life , my crown . 
 
 Yet 
 
The Church. 163 
 
 Yet flight not thefe few words: 
 
 If truly faid, they may take part 
 Among the bell in art. 
 
 The finenefle which a hymne or pfalme affords. 
 
 Is, when the foul unto the lines accords. 
 
 He who craves all the minde, 
 
 And all the foul, and ffrength, and time, 
 
 If the words onely ryme, 
 
 Juftly complains, that fomewhat isbehinde 
 To make his verfe,or write a hymne in kinde. 
 
 Whereas if th’ heart be moved, 
 Although the verfe be fomewhat fcant, 
 
 God doth fupplie the want. 
 
 As when th’ heart fayes (fighing to be approved) 
 
 O, could I love \ and flops: God writeth, Loved . 
 
 The Anfwer. 
 
 M Y comforts drop and melt away likefnow: 
 
 I fhake my head, and all the thoughts and ends, 
 Which my fierce youth did bandie, fall and flow 
 Like leaves about me; or like fummer friends, 
 
 Flyesof eflates and funne-fhine. But to all. 
 
 Who think me eager,hot,and undertaking, 
 
 Butin my profecutions flack and fmall; 
 
 Asa young exhalation, newly waking, 
 
 Scorns his firft bed of dirt, and means the sky; 
 
 But cooling by the way, grows purfie and flow, 
 
 And fetling to a cloud, doth live and die 
 In that dark ftate of tears: to all, that fo 
 Show me, and fet me, I have one reply, 
 
 Which they that know thereff, know more then I. 
 
 HA 
 
164 
 
 The Church. 
 
 ^ A Dialogue-Antheme. 
 
 Chrijlian. Death. 
 
 Cbr. A Las, poore Death, where is thy gloric? 
 
 Where is thy famous force, thy ancient (ling? 
 Dea. Alas poore mortally void of ftorie 9 
 
 Go fpell and reade how I have kill'd thy King . 
 Cbr, Poore death! and who was hurt thereby? 
 
 Thy curfe being laid on him,makes thee accurfL 
 Dea, Let lofers talk: yet thou Jhalt die\ (worft. 
 Thefe arms Jhall crujh thee . Chr . Spare not,do thy 
 I fhall be one day better then before: 
 
 Thou fo much worfe,that thou (halt be no more. 
 
 The Water-courfe. 
 
 T Hou who doll dwell and linger here below, 
 Since the condition of this world is frail, 
 Where of all plants affli&ions fooneft grow; 
 
 If troubles overtake thee, do not wail: 
 
 Life. 
 Strife. 
 
 For who can look for leife, that loveth 
 
 But rather turn the pipe, and waters courfe 
 To ferve thy finnes, and furniih thee with (lore 
 Of fov’raigne tears, fpringing from true remorfe: 
 That fo in purenefle thou mayft him adore. 
 
 Who gives to man, as he fees fit | ^mnadon 
 
The Church. 
 
 l6 5 
 
 Self-condemnation. 
 
 T Hou who condemnclt Jewifh hate, 
 
 For choofing Barabbas a murderer 
 Before the Lord of glorie; 
 
 Look back upon thine own eflate, 
 
 Cali home thine eye ( that bufie wanderer ) 
 That choice may be thy ftorie. 
 
 He that doth love, and love amiffe 
 This worlds delights before true Chriflian joy, 
 Hath made a Jewifh choice: 
 
 The world an ancient murderer is; 
 Thoufands of fouls it hath and doth deftroy 
 
 He that hath madea forrie wedding 
 Between his foul and gold, and hath preferr’d 
 
 Hath done what he condemnes in reading: 
 For he hath fold for money his deare Lord, 
 
 Thus we prevent the laft great day, 
 
 And judge our felves. That light, which fin k paffion 
 
 When once thofe fnuffes are ta’ne away, 
 Shines bright and cleare,ev’n unto condemnation. 
 
 With her enchanting voice. 
 
 Falfe gain before the true, 
 
 And is a Judas-Jew. 
 
 Did before dimme and choke, 
 
 Without excufe or cloke. 
 
 Bitter-fweet. 
 
 Call down, yet help afford; 
 Sure I will do the like. 
 
 I 
 
1 66 The Church. 
 
 I will complain, yet praife; 
 
 I will bewail, approve: 
 
 And all my fowre-fweet dayes 
 I will lament, and love. 
 
 IF The Glance. 
 
 'en firfl thy fweet and gi 
 
 gracious eye 
 
 VouchfaFd ev’n in the mid ft of youth and night 
 To look upon me, who before did lie 
 Weltring in finne; 
 
 I felt a fugred ft range delight. 
 
 Palling all cordials made by any art. 
 
 Bedew, embalme, and overrunne my heart. 
 
 Since that time many a bitter ftorm 
 My foul hath felt,ev’n able to deftroy. 
 Had the malicious and ill-meaning harm 
 
 But ftill thy fweet originall joy 
 Sprung from thine eye, did work within my foul, 
 And furging griefs, when they grew bold, control!, 
 
 If thy firft glance fo powerfull be, 
 
 A mirth but open'd and feal’d up again; 
 
 What wonders ftiall we feel, when we (hall fee 
 Thy full-ey’d love! 
 When thou fhalt look us out of pain. 
 And one afpe£l of thine fpend in delight 
 More then a thoufand funnes disburfe in light, 
 
 And take it in. 
 
 His fwing and fway: 
 
 And got the day. 
 
 In heav’n above. 
 
 1 The 
 
The Church. 
 
 167 
 
 5 [ The 23 Pfalme. 
 
 T He God of love my fhepherd 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 grafTe, 
 
 Where I both feed and red; 
 
 Then to the dreams that gently paffe: 
 
 In both I have the bed. 
 
 Or if I dray, he doth convert 
 
 And bring my minde in frame: 
 And all this not for my defert, 
 
 But for his holy name. 
 
 Yea, in deaths fhadie black abode 
 Well may I walk, not fear: 
 
 For thou art with me; and thy rod 
 To guide, thy daffe to bear. 
 
 Nay, thou dod make me fit and dine, 
 Ev’nin my enemies fight: 
 
 My head with oyl,my cupwith wine 
 Runnes over day and night. 
 
 Surely thy fweet and wondrous love 
 Shall meafure all my dayes; 
 
 And as it never fhall remove. 
 
 So neither fhall my praife. 
 
 IT Mary 
 
1 68 
 
 The Church. 
 
 TT Marie Magdalene. 
 
 W Hen bleffed Marie wip’d her Saviours feet, 
 
 ( Whofe precepts fhe had trampled on before) 
 And wore them fora je well on her head, 
 
 Shewing his heps fhould be the ftreet, 
 
 Wherein (he thenceforth evermore 
 With penlive humbleneffe would live and tread: 
 
 She being ftain’d her felf, why did fhe ftrive 
 To make him clean, who could not be defil’d? 
 
 Why kept fhe not her tears for her own faults, 
 
 And not his feet? Though we could dive 
 In tears like feas, our finnes are pil’d 
 Deeper then they,in words, and works, and thoughts. 
 
 Deare foul, fhe knew who did vouchfafe and deigne 
 To bear her filth; and that her finnes did dafh ‘ 
 
 Ev’n God himfelf : wherefore fhe was not loth, 
 
 As fhe had broughtwherewith to flain, 
 
 Soto bring in wherewith to wafh: 
 
 And yet in wafhing one, fhe wafhed both. 
 
 Aaron. 
 
 JL1 OlinefTe on the head. 
 
 Light and perfe&ions on the breaft. 
 Harmonious bells below, raifing the dead 
 To leade them unto life and reft. 
 Thus are true Aarons dreft. 
 
 Profaneneffe in my head, 
 Defe&s and darkneffe in my breaft, 
 A noife of paftions ringing me for dead 
 U nto a place where is no reft. 
 Poore prieft thus am I dreft. 
 
 Onely 
 
169 
 
 The Church . 
 
 Onely another head 
 I have,another heart and bread, 
 Another mufick, making live not dead, 
 
 Without whom I could have no reft: 
 In him I am well dreft. 
 
 Chrift is my onely head, 
 
 My alone onely heart and breaft, 
 
 My onely mufick, ftriking me ev’n dead; 
 
 That to the old man I may reft. 
 
 And be in him new dreft. 
 
 So holy in my head, 
 
 Perfeft and light in my deare breaft. 
 My do&rine tun’d by Chrift, ( who is not dead. 
 But lives in me while I do reft ) 
 
 Come people; Aaron’s dreft. 
 
 IF The Odour, 2. Cor. 2. 
 
 H Ow fweetly doth My Mafter found! My Mafter\ 
 As Amber-greefe leaves a rich fent 
 Unto the tafter: 
 
 So do thefe words a fweet content, 
 
 An orientall fragrancie, My Mafter . 
 
 With thefe all day I do perfume my minde, 
 
 My minde ev’n thruft into them both: 
 That I might finde 
 
 What cordials make this curious broth, 
 This broth of fmells, that feeds and fats my minde. 
 
 My Mafter , (hall I fpeak ? O that to thee 
 My fervant were a little fo, 
 
 Asflefh maybe; 
 
 That thefe two words might creep & grow 
 To fome degree of fpicinefie to thee! 
 
 H Then 
 
170 The Church. 
 
 Then fhould the Pomander, which was before 
 
 A fpeaking fweet, mend by refle&ion. 
 And tell me more : 
 
 For pardon of my imperfe&ion 
 Would warm and work it fweeter then before. 
 
 For when My Mafter , which alone is fweet. 
 
 And ev’n in my unworthineffe pleafing, 
 Shall call and meet, 
 
 My fervant, as thee not difpleafing, 
 
 That call is but the breathing of the fweet. 
 
 This breathing would with gains by fweetning me 
 (As fweet things traffick when they meet) 
 Return to thee. 
 
 And fo this new commerce and fweet 
 Should all my life employ, and bufie me. 
 
 The Foil. 
 
 If we could fee below 
 
 The fphere of vertue,and each fhining grace 
 As plainly as that above doth fhow; 
 
 This were the better skie,the brighter place. 
 
 God hath made ftarres the foil 
 To fet off vertues; griefs to fet off finning: 
 
 Yet in this wretched world we toil. 
 
 As if grief were not foul, nor vertue winning. 
 
 The Forerunners. 
 
 T He harbingers are come. See, fee their mark; 
 
 White is their colour, and behold my head. 
 But muft they have my brain ? muft they difpark 
 Thofe fparkling notions, which therein were bred ? 
 
 Mull dulnefie turn me to a clod/* 
 
 Yet have they left me, Tbou artftillmy God . 
 
The Church. 171 
 
 Good men ye be, to leave me my bell room, 
 
 Ev’n all my heart, and what is lodged there: 
 
 I pafle not, I, what of the reft become. 
 
 So Tbou art ftill my God, be out of fear. 
 
 He will be pleafed with that dittie; 
 
 And if I pleafe him, I write fine and wittie. 
 
 Farewell fweet phrafes, lovely metaphors. 
 
 But will ye leave me thus.? when ye before 
 Offtews and brothels onely knew thedoores. 
 
 Then did I wafh you with my tears, and more, 
 
 Brought you to Church well dreftand clad; 
 My God muft have my belt, ev’n all I had. 
 
 Louely enchanting language, fugar-cane, 
 
 Hony of rofes, whither wilt thou Hie ? 
 
 Hath fome fond lover tic’d thee to thy bane ? 
 
 And wilt thou leave the Church, and love a ftie ? 
 
 Fie, thou wilt foil thy broider’d coat. 
 
 And hurt thy felf,and him that lings the note. 
 
 Let foolifh lovers, if they will love dung, 
 
 With canvas, not with arras clothe their fhame; 
 
 Let follie fpeak in her own native tongue. 
 
 True beau tie dwells on high: ours is aflame 
 
 But borrow’d thence to light us thither. 
 Beautie and beauteous words fhould go together. 
 
 Yet if you go , I pafle not; take your way: 
 
 For, Tbou art ftill my God , is all that ye 
 Perhaps with more embellifhment can fay, 
 
 Go birds of fpring: let winter have his fee. 
 
 Let a bleak palenefle chalk the doore, 
 
 So all within be livelier then before. 
 
 H 2 
 
 The 
 
172 • ’The Church. 
 if The Rofe. 
 
 P Reffe me not to take more pleafure 
 In this world of fugred lies. 
 
 And to ufe a larger meafure 
 
 Then my drift, yet welcome fize. 
 
 Firft, there is no pleafure here: 
 
 Colour’d griefs indeed there are, 
 Blulhing woes, that look as cleare 
 
 As if they could beautie fpare. 
 
 Or if fuch deceits there be, 
 
 Such delights I meant to fay; 
 
 There are no fuch things to me, 
 
 Who have pafs’d my right away. 
 
 But I will not much oppofe 
 
 Unto whatyou now advife: 
 
 Onely take this gentle rofe, 
 
 And therein my anfwer lies. 
 
 What is fairer then a rofe ? 
 
 Whatisfweeter? yetitpurgeth. 
 Purgings enmitie difclofe, 
 
 Enmitie forbearance urgeth. 
 
 If then all that worldlings prize 
 Be contracted to a rofe; 
 
 Sweetly there indeed it lies. 
 
 But it biteth in the clofe. 
 
 So this flower doth judge and fentence 
 Worldly joyes to be a fcourge: 
 
 For they all produce repentance. 
 
 And repentance is a purge. 
 
The Church. 
 
 But I health, not phyfick choofe: 
 Onely though I you oppofe, 
 Say that fairly I refufe, 
 
 For my anfwer is a rofe. 
 
 IT Difcipline. 
 
 T Hrow away thy rod. 
 
 Throw away thy wrath: 
 
 O my God, 
 
 Take the gentle path. 
 
 For my hearts defire 
 Unto thine is bent: 
 
 I afpire. 
 
 To a full confent. 
 
 Not a word or look 
 I affeft 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 fwift of foot; 
 
 Love's a man of warre. 
 
 And canfhoot. 
 And can hit from farre. 
 
 H 3 
 
 l 71 
 
 Who 
 
i74 
 
 The Church. 
 
 Who can fcape his bow? 
 
 That which wrought on thee. 
 
 Brought thee low. 
 Needs mufl work on me. 
 
 Throw away thy rod; 
 
 Though man frailties hath. 
 
 Thou art God: 
 Throw away thy wrath. 
 
 The Invitation. 
 
 Ome ye hither all, whofe tafte 
 
 Save your coft, and mend your fare. 
 God is here prepar'd and dreft. 
 
 And thefeaft, 
 
 God, in whom all dainties are. 
 
 Come ye hither all, whom w ine 
 
 Doth define. 
 
 Naming you not to your good; 
 Weepwhatye have drunk amifie. 
 And drink this. 
 
 Which before ye drink is bloud. 
 
 Come ye hither all, whom pain 
 
 Doth arraigne, 
 
 Bringing all your finnes to fight: 
 Tafte and fear not; God is here 
 
 In this cheer, 
 
 And on finne doth caft the fright. 
 
 Come ye hither all, whom joy 
 
 Doth deftroy, 
 
 While ye graze without your bounds: 
 Here is joy thatdrowneth quite 
 
 Your delight. 
 
 As a floud the lower grounds. 
 
 Is your wafte; 
 
The Church. 
 
 175 
 
 Come ye hither all, whofe love 
 Is your dove, 
 
 And exalts you to the skie: 
 Here is love, which having breath 
 Ev’n in death, 
 After death can never die. 
 
 Lord I have invited all, 
 
 And I fhall 
 Still invite, ftill call to thee : 
 
 For itfeems but juft and right 
 In my fight, 
 
 Where is all, there all fhould be. 
 
 Elcome fweet and facred cheer, 
 
 With me, in me, live and dwell: 
 
 For thy neatnefle pafieth fight. 
 
 Thy delight 
 
 Pafieth tongue to tafte or tell. 
 
 O what fweetnefle from the bowl 
 Fills my foul. 
 
 Such as is , and makes divine! 
 
 Is fomeftarre (fled from the fphere) 
 Melted there. 
 
 As we fugar melt in wine ? 
 
 Or hath fweetnefle in the bread 
 Made a head 
 
 To fubdue the finell of finne ; 
 Flowers,and gummes,and powders giving 
 All their living. 
 Left the enemie ftiould winne? 
 
 If The Banquet. 
 
 Welcome deare; 
 
 Doubt- 
 
The Church. 
 
 DoubtlefTe, neither ftarre nor flower 
 
 Hath the power 
 Such a fweetnefle to impart: 
 
 Onely God, who gives perfumes, 
 
 Flefli aflumes , 
 
 And with it perfumes my heart. 
 
 But as Pomanders and wood 
 
 Still are good, 
 
 Yet being bruis’d arc better fented: 
 
 God, to Ihow how farre his love 
 
 Could improve. 
 Here, as broken, is prefented. 
 
 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 fo found me on the ground. 
 
 Having rais’d me to look up. 
 
 In a cup 
 
 Sweetly he doth meet my tafte. 
 
 But I ftill being low and fliort, 
 
 Farre from court, 
 Wine becomes a wing at laft. 
 
 For with it alone I flie 
 
 To the skie: 
 
 Where I wipe mine eyes, and fee 
 What I feek, for what I fue ; 
 
 Him I view, 
 
 Who hath done fo much for me. 
 
*77 
 
 The Church . 
 
 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 ftrife. 
 
 IT The Pofie. 
 
 L^Et wits conteft, 
 
 And with their words and pofies windows fill: 
 Lejfe then the leaf 
 Of all thy mercies , is my pofie ftill. 
 
 This on my ring, 
 
 This by my pidure, in my book I write: 
 Whether I fing, 
 
 Or fay, or didate, this is my delight. 
 
 Invention reft. 
 
 Companions go play, wit ufe thy will: 
 Leffethen the leaf 
 Of all Gods mercies , is my pofie ftill. 
 
 % A Parodie. 
 
 S Ouls joy, when thou art gone. 
 And I alone, 
 Which cannot be, 
 Becaufe thoudoft abide with me, 
 And I depend on thee ; 
 
 Yet when thoudoft fupprefle 
 
 The cheerfulnefie 
 Of thy abode, 
 
 And in my powers not ftirre abroad, 
 But leave me to my load: 
 
 O 
 
178 'The Church. 
 
 O what a damp and fhade 
 Doth me invade! 
 
 No ftormie night 
 Can fo afflict or fo affright , 
 
 As thy eclipfed light. 
 
 Ah Lord! do not withdraw , 
 
 Left want of aw 
 Make Sinne appeare; 
 
 And when thou doft but llnne leffe cleare, 
 Say, that thou art not here. 
 
 And then what life I have. 
 
 While Sinne doth rave. 
 And falfly boaft. 
 
 That I may feek, but thou art loft ; 
 
 Thou and alone thou know’ll. 
 
 O what a deadly cold 
 Doth me infold! 
 
 I half beleeve, 
 
 That Sinne fayes true: but while I grieve. 
 Thou corn’ll and doft relieve. 
 
 The Elixer. 
 
 T Each me, my God and King, 
 In all things thee to fee. 
 And what I do in any thing. 
 
 To do it as for thee: 
 
 Not rudely, as a beaft, 
 
 To runne into an aCtion; 
 
 But Hill to make thee prepoffeft. 
 
 And give it his perfection. 
 
 A man 
 
The Church. 179 
 
 A man that looks on glaffe, 
 
 On it may flay his eye ; 
 
 Or if he pleafeth, through it pafTe, 
 
 And then the heav’n efpie. 
 
 AH may of thee partake: 
 
 Nothing can be fo mean, 
 
 Which with his tin&ure (for thy fake) 
 
 Will not grow bright and clean. 
 
 A fervant with this claufe 
 Makes drudgerie divine : 
 
 Whofweeps a room, as for thy laws, 
 
 Makes that and th* a&ion fine. 
 
 This is the famous flone 
 That turneth all to gold: 
 
 For that which God doth touch and own 
 Cannot for leffe be told. 
 
 ^ A Wreath. 
 
 A Wreathed garland of deferved praife. 
 
 Of praife deferved, unto thee I give, 
 
 1 give to thee, who knoweft all my wayes, 
 
 My crooked winding wayes,wherein I live. 
 
 Wherein I die, not live: for life is ilraight. 
 
 Straight as a line, and ever tends to thee, 
 
 To thee, who art more farre above deceit, 
 
 Then deceit feems above fimplicitie. 
 
 Give me fimplicitie, that I may live. 
 
 So live and like, that I may know thy wayes. 
 
 Know them and pra&ife them: then fhall I give 
 For this poore wreath,give thee a crown of praife. 
 
 IT Death. 
 
180 The Church . 
 
 If Death. 
 
 D Eath, thou waft once an uncouth hideous thing. 
 Nothing but bones. 
 
 The fad effedl of fadder grones: 
 
 Thy mouth was open,but thou couldft not fing. 
 
 For we confider’d thee as at fome fix 
 
 Ortenyeares hence, 
 
 After the Ioffe of life and fen fe, 
 
 Flefh being turn’d to duft,and bones to flicks. 
 
 We lookt on this fide of thee,fhooting fhort; 
 
 Where we did finde 
 The fhells of fledge fouls left behinde. 
 
 Dry dull, which fheds no tears, but may extort. 
 
 But fince our Saviours death did put fome bloud 
 Into thy face; 
 
 Thou art grown fair and full of grace. 
 
 Much in requeft, much fought for,as a good. 
 
 For wc do now behold thee gay and glad, 
 
 As at dooms-day ; 
 
 When fouls fhall wear their new aray. 
 
 And all thy bones with beautie fhall be clad. 
 
 Therefore we can go die as fleep, and truft 
 Half that we have 
 Unto an honeft faithfull grave; 
 
 Making our pillows either down, or dull. 
 
 1 " Dooms- 
 
The Church. 
 
 1 8 1 
 
 IT Dooms-day. 
 
 Co me away. 
 Make no delay. 
 
 Summon all the dull to rife. 
 
 Till it ftirre, and rubbe the eyes; 
 
 While this member jogs the other, 
 
 Each one whifpring, Live you brother? 
 
 Come away, 
 
 Make this the day. 
 
 Dull , alas, no mulick feels. 
 
 But thy trumpet: then it kneels. 
 
 As peculiar notes and ftrains 
 Cure Tarantulaes raging pains. 
 
 Come away, 
 Omake no Hay! 
 
 Let the graves make their confeflion. 
 Left at length they plead pofleflion: 
 Flelhes ftubbornnelfe may have 
 Read that lefton to the grave. 
 
 Come away, 
 
 Thy flock doth ftray. 
 
 Some to windes their bodie lend. 
 
 And in them may drown a friend: 
 
 Some in noifome vapours grow 
 To a plague and publick wo. 
 
 Come away. 
 Help our decay. 
 
 Man is out of order hurPd, 
 
 ParcePd out to all the world. 
 
 Lord, thy broken confort raife. 
 
 And the mulick lhall be praife. 
 
 f J ud g e - 
 
1 82 The Church. 
 
 Judgement. 
 
 A Lmightie Judge, how (hall poore wretches brook 
 Thy dreadfulllook. 
 
 Able a heart of iron to appall. 
 
 When thou (halt call 
 For ev’ry mans peculiar book? 
 
 What others mean to do, I know not well; 
 
 Yeti heare tell, 
 
 That fome will turn thee to fome leaves therein 
 So void of linne. 
 
 That they in merit fhall excell. 
 
 But I refolve, when thou flialt call for mine, 
 
 That to decline. 
 
 And thruft a Teftament into thy hand: 
 
 Let that be fcann’d. 
 
 There thou fhalt finde my faults are thine. 
 
 % Heaven. 
 
 O Who will fhow me thofe delights on high? 
 
 Echo. I. 
 
 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 Hill abide? 
 
 Echo, Bide . 
 
 What leaves are they? impart the matter wholly. 
 
 Echo, Holy, 
 
 Are holy leaves the Echo then of blifle? 
 
 Echo, Yes, 
 
 Then tell me, what is thatfupreme delight? 
 
 Echo, Light, 
 
 Light 
 
The Church. 183 
 
 Light to the minde: what fhall the will enjoys 
 
 Echo . Joy . 
 
 But are there cares and bufinefle with the pleafure? 
 
 Echo. Leif ure . 
 
 Lighfjoy, and leifure; but fhall they perfever? 
 
 Echo Ever . 
 
 Love. 
 
 L Ove bade me welcome: yet my foul drew back, 
 Guiltie of duft and finne. 
 
 But quick-ey’d Love, obferving me grow flack 
 From my firft entrance in. 
 
 Drew nearer to me, fweetly queftioning. 
 
 If Hack’d any thing. 
 
 A gueft, I anfwer’d, worthy to be here: 
 
 Love faid, you fhall be he. 
 
 I the unkinde,ungratefull? Ah my deare, 
 
 I cannot look on thee. 
 
 Love took my hand, and fmiling did reply. 
 
 Who made the eyes but I? 
 
 T ruth Lord, but I have marr’d them: let my fhamc 
 Go where it doth deferve. 
 
 And know you not, fayes Love, who bore the blame? 
 
 My deare, then I will ferve. 
 
 You muft fit down, fayes Love, and tafte my meat: 
 
 So I did fit and eat. 
 
 FINIS. 
 
 Glorie be to God on high, and on earth 
 peace, good 'will towards men. 
 
^ The Church Militant. 
 
 Lmightie Lord, who from thy glorious 
 throne 
 
 Seed and ruleft all things ev'n as one: 
 The fmalleft ant or atome knows thy 
 power, 
 
 Known alfo to each minute of an houre: 
 Much more do Common-weals acknowledge thee. 
 And wrap their policies in thy decree. 
 
 Complying with thy counfels, doing nought 
 Which doth not meet with an eternall thought. 
 
 But above all, thy Church and Spoufe doth prove 
 Not the decrees of power, but bands of love. 
 
 Early didft thou arife to plant this vine. 
 
 Which might the more indeare it to be thine. 
 
 Spices come from the Eaft; fo did thy Spoufe, 
 
 Trimme as the light, fweet as the laden boughs 
 Of Noahs fhadie vine, chafte as the dove; 
 
 Prepar’d and fitted to receive thy love. 
 
 The courfe was weftward, that the funne might light 
 As well our underftanding as our fight. 
 
 Where th* Ark did reft, there Abraham began 
 To bring the other Ark from Canaan . 
 
 Mofes purfu’d this: but King Solomon 
 Finifh’d and fixt the old religion. 
 
 When it grew loofe, thejews did hope in vain 
 By nailing Chrift to faften it again. 
 
 But to the Gentiles he bore crofte and all. 
 
 Rending with earthquakes the partition-wall: 
 
 Onely whereas the Ark in glorie fhone, 
 
 Now with the crofte, as with a ftaffe, alone, 
 
 Religion, like a pilgrime, weftward bent, 
 
 Knock- 
 
The Church Militant. 185 
 
 Knocking at all doores, ever as (he went. 
 
 Yet as the funne, though forward be his flight, 
 
 Liftens behinde him, and allows fome light. 
 
 Till all depart : fo went the Church her way, 
 
 Letting, while one foot ftept, the other flay 
 Among the eaftern nations for a time, 
 
 Till both removed to the weftern clime. 
 
 To Egypt firftfhe came, where they did prove 
 Wonders of anger once, but now of love. 
 
 The ten Commandments there did flourilh more 
 Then the ten bitter plagues had done before. 
 
 Holy Macarius and great Anthonie 
 Made Pharaoh Mofes , changing th’ hiftorie. 
 
 Gojhen was darkneffe, Egypt full of lights, 
 
 Nilus for monfters brought forth Ifraelites. 
 
 Such power hath mightie Baptifme to produce 
 For things mifshapen, things of highefl ufe. 
 
 Hozo deare to me , O God , thy counjels are ! 
 
 IV ho may with thee compare ? 
 Religion thence fled into Greece , where arts 
 Gave her the highefl: place in all mens hearts. 
 
 Learning was pos’d, Philofophie was fet, 
 
 Sophifters taken in a fifhers net. 
 
 Plato and Arijiotle were at a Ioffe, 
 
 And wheel’d about again to fpell Chrift-Croffe . 
 Prayers chas’d fyllogifmes into their den, 
 
 And Ergo was transform’d into Amen . 
 
 Though Greece took horfe as foon as Egypt did, 
 
 And ^Rome as both; yet Egypt fafterrid, 
 
 And fpent her period and prefixed time 
 Before the other. Greece being paft her prime, 
 Religion went to c I{ome i fubduing thofe. 
 
 Who, that they might fubdue,made all their foes. 
 
 The Warrier his deere skarres no more refounds , 
 Butfeems toyeeld Chrift hath the greater wounds, 
 Wounds willingly endur’d to work his bliffe, 
 
 Who fay an ambulh loll his Paradife. The 
 
1 86 The Church Militant. 
 
 The great heart (loops, and taketh from the dull 
 A fad repentance, not the fpoils of lull: : 
 
 Quitting his fpear,led it fliould pierce again 
 Him in his members, who for him was {lain. 
 
 The Shepherds hook grew to a feepter here , 
 
 Giving new names and numbers to the yeare. 
 
 But th* Empire dwelt in Greece , to comfort them 
 Who were cut fhort in Alexanders^ mme. 
 
 In both of thefe ProwefTe and Arts did tame 
 And tune mens hearts againd the Gofpel came: 
 
 Which uflng, and not fearing skill in th > one. 
 
 Or ftrength in th* other, did ered her throne. 
 
 Many a rent and druggling th’ Empire knew, 
 
 ( As dying things are wont) untill it flew 
 At length to Germanie , (till wedward bending. 
 
 And there the Churches fedivall attending: 
 
 That as before Empire and Arts made way, 
 fFor no lefle Harbingers would ferve then they) 
 
 So they might dill, and point us out the place 
 Where fird theChurch fhould raife her down-cad face. 
 Strength levels grounds. Art makes a garden there; 
 Then lhowres Religion, and makes all to bear. 
 
 Spain in the Empire {har’d with Germanie , 
 
 But England in the higher vidorie: 
 
 Giving the Church a crown to keep her date. 
 
 And not go lefle then Ihe had done of late. 
 Conjlantines Britifh line meant this of old. 
 
 And did this myderie wrap up and fold 
 Within a fheet of paper, which was rent 
 From times great Chronicle , and hither fent. 
 
 Thus both the Church and Sunne together ran 
 Unto the farthed old meridian. 
 
 How deare to me , O God, tby counfels are ! 
 
 Who may with tbee compare T 
 Much about one and the fame time and place, 
 
 Both where and when the Church began her race, 
 
 Sinne 
 
The Church Militant . 1 87 
 
 Sinne did fet out of Eaftern Babylon , 
 
 And travelPd weftward alfo : journeying on 
 He chid the Church away, where e’re he came. 
 Breaking her peace, and tainting her good name. 
 
 At fir ft he got to Egypt, and did fow 
 Gardens of gods, which ev’ry yeare did grow, 
 
 Frefti and fine deities. They were at great coft, 
 
 Who for a god clearely a fallet loft. 
 
 Ah, what a thing is man devoid of grace. 
 
 Adoring garlick with an humble face, 
 
 Begging his food of that which he may eat. 
 
 Starving the while he worfhippeth his meat! 
 
 Who makes a root his god, how low is he, 
 
 If God and man be fever’d infinitely! 
 
 What wretchednefie can give him any room, 
 
 Whofe houfe is foul, while he adores his broom? 
 None will beleeve this now, though money be 
 In us the fame transplanted foolerie. 
 
 Thus Sinne in Egypt fneaked for a while; 
 
 His higheft was an ox or crocodile, 
 
 And filch poore game.Thence he to Greece doth paffe. 
 And being craftier much then Goodnefie was, 
 
 He leftbehinde him garrifons of finnes 
 To make good that which ev’ry day he winnes. 
 
 Here Sinne took heart, and for a garden-bed 
 Rich fhrines and oracles he purchafed: 
 
 He grew a gallant, and would needs foretell 
 As well what Ihould befall, as what befell. 
 
 Nay, he became a poet, and wouldferve 
 His pills of fublimate in that conferve. 
 
 The world came both with hands and purfes full 
 To this great lotterie, and all would pull. 
 
 But all was glorious cheating, brave deceit. 
 
 Where fome poore truths were fhuffled for a bait 
 To credit him, and to difcredit thofe 
 Who after him Ihould braver truths difclofe. 
 
 From 
 
1 88 The Church Militant. 
 
 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 truft to rule the Romane fphere. 
 Glorie was his chief inftrumentof old: 
 
 Pleafure fucceeded ftraight, when that grew cold. 
 Which foon was blown tofuch a mightie flame. 
 That though our Saviour did deftroy the game, 
 Difparking oracles, and all their treafure, 
 
 Setting afflidion to encounter pleafure ; 
 
 Yet did a rogue with hope of carnall joy 
 Cheat the moft fubtill nations* Who fo coy. 
 
 So trimme, as Greece and Egypt? yet their hearts 
 Are given over, for their curious arts, 
 
 To fuch Mahometan ftupidities, 
 
 As the old heathen would deem prodigies. 
 
 How deare to me , O God \ thy counjels are ! 
 
 Who may with thee compare? 
 Onely the Weft and Rome do keep them free 
 From this contagious infidelitie. 
 
 And this is all the Rock, whereof they boaft, 
 
 As Rome will one day finde unto her coft. 
 
 Sinne being not able to extirpate quite 
 The Churches here, bravely refolv’d one night 
 To be a Church-man too, and wear a Mitre: 
 
 The old debauched ruffian would turn writer. 
 
 I faw him in his ftudie, where he fate 
 Bufie in controverfies fprung of late. 
 
 A gown and pen became him wondrous well: 
 His grave afped had more of heav’n then hell: 
 Onely there was a handfome pidure by. 
 
 To which he lent a corner of his eye. 
 
 As Sinne in Greece a Prophet was before. 
 
 And in old Romes, mightie Emperour; 
 
 So now being Prieft he plainly did profefle 
 To make a jeft of Chrifts three offices : 
 
 The 
 
The Church Militant. 189 
 
 The rather fince his fcatter’d jugglings were 
 United now in one both time and fphere. 
 
 From Egypt he took pettie deities. 
 
 From Greece oracular infallibilities. 
 
 And from old Rome the libertie of pleafure. 
 
 By free difpenfings of the Churches treafure. 
 
 Then in memoriall of his ancient throne 
 He did furname his palace, Babylon . 
 
 Yet that he might the better gain all nations. 
 
 And make that name good by their tranfmigrations; 
 From all thefe places, but at divers times. 
 
 He took fine vizards to conceal his crimes : 
 
 From Egypt Anchorifme and retired nefie, 
 
 Learning from Greece, f rom old Rome ftatelineffe: 
 And blending thefe he carri’d all mens eyes. 
 
 While Truth fat by, counting his vidlories: 
 
 Whereby he grew apace and fcorn’d to ufe 
 Such force as once did captivate the Jews; 
 
 But did bewitch, and finely work each nation 
 Into a voluntarie tranfmigration. 
 
 All pofte to c R < pme: Princes fubmit their necks 
 Either t’ his publick foot or private tricks. 
 
 It did not fit his gravitie to ftirre, 
 
 N or his long journey , nor his gout and furre. 
 Therefore he fent out able minifters, 
 
 Statefmen within, without doores cloifterers: 
 
 Who wit hout fpear, or fword, or other drumme 
 Then what was in th eir tongue, did overcome; 
 
 And having conquer’d, did fo firangely rule. 
 
 That the whole world did feem but the Popes mule. 
 As new and old H{ome did one Empire twift; 
 
 So both together are one Antichrift, 
 
 Yet with two faces,as their Janus was; 
 
 Being in this their old crackt looking-glafle. 
 
 How deare tome, 0 God, thy counfels are ! 
 
 Who may with thee compare t 
 
 Thus 
 
190 The Church Militant. 
 
 Thus Sinne triumphs in Weftern Babylon ; 
 
 Yet not as Sinne, but as Religion. 
 
 Of his two thrones he made the latter bell. 
 
 And to defray his journey from the eaft. 
 
 Old and new Babylon are to hell and night, 
 
 As is the moon and funne to heav’n and light. 
 When th’ one did fet, the other did take place, 
 Confronting equally the law and grace. 
 
 They are hells land-marks, Satans double creft: 
 They are Sinnes nipples, feeding th* eaft and weft. 
 But as in vice the copie ftill exceeds 
 The pattern, but not fo in vertuous deeds; 
 
 So though Sinne made his latter feat the better, 
 The latter Church is to the firft a debtor. 
 
 The fecond Temple could not reach the firft: 
 
 And the late reformation never durft 
 Compare with ancient times and purer yeares; 
 
 But in the Jews and us deferveth tears. 
 
 Nay, it lhall ev’ry yeare decreafe and fade; 
 
 Till fuch a darkneffe do the world invade 
 At Chrifts laft coming, as his firft did finde: 
 
 Yet muft there fuch proportions be aflign’d 
 To thefe diminilhings, as is between 
 Thefpacious world and J urie to be feen. 
 
 Religion ftands on tip-toe in our land, 
 
 Readie to pafie to the American ftrand. 
 
 When height of malice, and prodigious lufts. 
 Impudent finning, witchcrafts, and diftrufts 
 ( The marks of future bane,) lhall fill our cup 
 Unto the brimme, and make our meafure up; 
 When Sein lhall 1 wallow Tiber , and the Thames 
 By letting in them both, pollutes her ftreams: 
 When Italie of us lhall have her will, 
 
 And all her-calender of linnes fulfill; 
 
 Whereby one may fortell, what finnes next yeare 
 Shall both in France and England domineer: 
 
 Then 
 
The Church Militant. 191 
 
 Then fhall Religion to America flee: 
 
 They have their times of Gofpel, ev’n as we. 
 
 My God, thou doft prepare for them a way 
 By carrying firft their gold from them away: 
 
 For gold and grace did never yet agree: 
 
 Religion alwaies (ides with povertie. 
 
 We think we rob them, but we think amifle: 
 
 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, fhall be our defolation. 
 
 Yet as the Church fhall thither weftward flie. 
 
 So Sinne fhall trace and dog her inflan tly: 
 
 They have their period alfo and fet times 
 Both for their vertuous adtions and their crimes. 
 
 And where of old the Empire and the Arts 
 li fher’d the Gofpel ever in mens hearts, 
 
 Spain hath done one; when Arts perform the other, 
 The Church fhall come, & Sinne the Church fhall fmo- 
 That when they haue accomplifhed the round, (then 
 And met in th’ eafl their firfl and ancient found. 
 Judgement may meet them both&fearch them round. 
 Thus do both lights, as well in Church as Sunne, 
 Light one another, and together runne. 
 
 Thus alfo Sinne and Darknefle follow Hill 
 
 The Church and Sunne with all their power and skill. 
 
 But as the Sunne flill goes both well and eafl; 
 
 So alfo did the Church by going weft 
 Still eaflward go;becaufe it drew more neare 
 To time and place, where judgement fhall appeare. 
 How deareto me , 0 God, tby counfels are ! 
 
 Who may with thee compare ? 
 
 flf L’Envoy. 
 
192 
 
 L’ Envoy. 
 
 K ing of glorie , King of peace. 
 
 With the one make warre to ceale; 
 With the other blefle thy flieep. 
 
 Thee to love, in thee tofleep. 
 
 Let not Sinne devoure thy fold. 
 Bragging that thy bloud is cold. 
 
 That thy death is alfo dead. 
 
 While his conquefts dayly fpread; 
 
 That thy flefh hath loft his food. 
 
 And thy Crofle is common wood. 
 Choke him, let him fay no more, 
 Butreferve his breath in ftore, 
 
 Till thy conquefts and his fall 
 Make his fighs to ufe it all. 
 
 And then bargain with thewinde 
 To difcharge what is behinde. 
 
 Blejfed be God alone , 
 Thrice blejfed Three in One. 
 
 FINIS. 
 
The titles of the feverall poems 
 contained in this book. 
 
 A 
 
 Aron 1 68 
 
 Affiittion 38.53. 
 64. 82. 89. 
 
 Agonie 29 
 
 Altar 1 8 
 
 Anagram of the Virgin 
 Marie 69 
 
 To all Angels and Saints 
 ibid. 
 
 The Anfwer 163 
 
 A ^Dialogue- Antheme 
 164 
 
 Antiphon 45.85 
 
 Artillerie 1 3 2 
 
 AJfurance 1 49 
 
 Avarice 69 
 
 B 
 
 T He Bag 145 
 
 The Banquet 175 
 H. Baptifme 36 
 
 Bitter-fweet 1 6 5 
 
 The Britijh Church 102 
 The Bunch of G rapes 120 
 Bufineffe 105 
 
 C 
 
 The Call 
 
 150 
 
 Charms and knots 
 
 88 
 
 Chrijl?nas 
 
 72 
 
 Church -floor e 
 
 58 
 
 Church-lock and key 
 
 57 
 
 Church Militant 
 
 184 
 
 C hurch-monumentt 
 
 56 
 
 Church-mufick 
 
 57 
 
 Church-porch 
 
 1 
 
 Church-rents Esf fchifmes 
 
 134 
 
 
 C hurch - windows 
 
 59 
 
 C la f ping of hands 
 
 151 
 
 The Collar 
 
 147 
 
 Colojf. 3. 3. Our life , &c. 
 
 77 
 
 
 H. Communion 
 
 43 
 
 Complaining 
 
 1 37 
 
 S elf- C ondemnation 
 
 165 
 
 CoTifefsion 
 
 us 
 
 Confcience 
 
 98 
 
 Conftancie 
 
 63 
 
 Content 
 
 60 
 
 The Crojfe 
 
 i 5 8 
 
 I 
 
 The 
 
T> 
 
 HP He T> awning 
 A HOeath 
 
 •sh 0 
 0 00 
 
 T>ecay 
 
 91 
 
 TDeniall 
 
 71 
 
 dialogue 
 
 107 
 
 The TOifcharge 
 
 138 
 
 TOifcipline 
 
 *73 
 
 T> iv ini tie 
 
 127 
 
 T> ooms- day 
 
 181 
 
 ^Dotage 
 
 161 
 
 *T)ulneffe 
 
 108 
 
 E 
 
 
 T? A ft er 33 
 
 XL/ E after-wings 3 4, 3 5 
 
 The Elixer 
 
 178 
 
 Employment 
 
 49.70 
 
 L* Envoy 
 
 192 
 
 Ephef. 4. 30. Grieve not , 
 
 &c. 
 
 128 
 
 Evenfong 
 
 55 
 
 F 
 
 
 T?Aith 
 J/ The F ami lie 
 
 4 1 
 
 130 
 
 The Flower 
 
 160 
 
 The Foil 
 
 170 
 
 The Forerunners 
 
 ibid. 
 
 Frailtie 
 
 62 
 
 G 
 
 
 p Iddineffe 
 VJT The Glance 
 
 1 19 
 
 166 
 
 The Glimpfe 
 
 148 
 
 Good-friday 
 
 30 
 
 Grace 
 
 5 * 
 
 Gratefulneffe 
 
 1 16 
 
 Grief 
 
 « 5 8 
 
 H 
 
 H E avert 182 
 
 The Holdfaft 137 
 
 Home 99 
 
 Hope 1 1 4 
 
 Humilitie 61 
 
 A true Hymrte 162 
 
 1 
 
 J E/u 105 
 
 The Jews 146 
 
 The Invitation 1 74 
 
 Jordan 48.95 
 
 Jofephscoat 153 
 
 J udgement 182 
 
 J uftice SB. 135 
 
 L 
 
 L Ent 78 
 
 Life 87 
 
 Longing 1 42 
 
 Love 45,46.183 
 
 Love-joy 109 
 
 Love unknown 121 
 
 M 
 
 M An 83 
 
 Mans medley 123 
 
 S. Marie Magdalene 168 
 
 Mat tens 54 
 
 The Method 126 
 
 Miferie 92 
 
 Mortification 90 
 
 Nature 37 
 
 O 
 
 O Bedience 96 
 
 The Odour 169 
 
 An Offering 1 4 1 
 
 Paradife 
 
p 
 
 P Aradife 125 
 
 A Parodie 177 
 
 Peace 1 1 7 
 
 Tbe Pearl, Matt. 13. 81 
 Perirrhanterium 1 
 
 Tbe Pilgrimage 135 
 
 Tbe Pojie 177 
 
 Praife 53.140.151 
 Prayer 43*95 
 
 Tbe Prieftbood 154 
 Providence 1 09 
 
 Tbe 23 Pfalme 167 
 
 The Pulley 153 
 
 $>uid ditie 6 1 
 
 JL ri* 103 
 
 R 
 
 R E demotion 3 1 
 Repentance 40 
 
 The Reprifall 28 
 
 TbeRofe 172 
 
 T He Sacrifice 19 
 Saints vide Angels 
 Scbifmes vide Church- 
 rents 
 
 H. Scripture 50 
 
 Tbe Search 156 
 
 Sepulchre 
 
 32 
 
 Sighs and grones 
 
 75 
 
 Sinne 
 
 37*55 
 
 Sinnes round 
 
 1 H 
 
 Tbe Sinner 
 
 30 
 
 Sion 
 
 99 
 
 Tbe Size 
 
 131 
 
 The Sonne 
 
 162 
 
 Tbe Star re 
 
 65 
 
 The Storm 
 
 125 
 
 Submifsion 
 
 87 
 
 Sunday 
 
 66 
 
 Superliminare 
 
 1 7 
 
 T 
 
 
 r-yryHe Temper 
 
 4 6 >47 
 
 X The Tbanks-giving 
 
 27 
 
 
 Time 
 
 ns 
 
 Trinitie-Sunday 
 
 59 
 
 V 
 
 V Anitie 77.104 
 Vertue 18 
 
 Ungratefulnejfe 74 
 Unkin dnefie 86 
 
 W 
 
 f ~V K He Water-courfe\(s\ 
 X Whitfunday 5 1 
 The World 76 
 
 A Wreath 179 
 
 FINIS \ 
 
REPRINTED BY WHITTINGHAM AND WILKINS, 
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