SVSPICE. CAELVM. DESPICE. MVNDVM. RESPICE. FINEM. SENTIT E. SVPERA. NON. TERRESTR
Vera, ac viva Effigies.
NATHANAELIS RICHARDS Gen:
Seuen Poems. Diuine, Morall, and Satyricall. viz. The
- Celestiall Publican.
- Spirituall Sea-fight.
- World.
- Flesh.
- Vicious Courtier.
- Iesuite.
- Deuill.
Together with sundry Epitaphs and Epigrams.
By N.R. Gent.
Coelum Cupio.
Printed at London for Roger Michell, dwelling in Charterhouse-lane. 1631.
TO THE HEAVENLY LOVER OF DIVINE POEMS.
GOod Bookes, Good Minds best please, where bad Mindes be,
Desert shall still be raild at, Vice passe free,
Enuie, Debate, Pride, Flatterie, and a whore;
The Vicious minded Foole mindes nothing more.
Harlots, for hot sinne-offerings shall finde
Fauour, and Friends, to them the World is kinde,
But when the wealth of Soules, in Vertues Line
Leuells Man's crooked Thoughts, to thoughts Diuine.
'Tis sleighted then; Most Worldlings, like false Friends
Loue not for Vertue, but their owne base Ends.
Times Lordly Churle, deepe read, in Errors Schoole,
Esteemes Plaine-Dealing, but a Vertuous Foole:
Therefore to thee, whose Sacred Soule desires
Celestiall Solace, Heauenly Holy fires.
To thy Religious thoughts, apt to preuent,
And fly from Sinne; to thee I this present.
[Page]Here's no Luxurious Ʋerse to please the Eares
Of Whorish Mindes (stranger to blessed Teares.)
No Court-Confounding Complement, nor stile
Of feigned Poesie, nor base Flatries Guile:
Soule-suffering Griefe for sinne, I here expresse;
Wishing to All, Immortall happinesse.
True Penitence gaines Heau'n; throwes Sinners downe
To raise them vp to an Immortall Crowne.
Deuoted to Your Vertues, NATHANAEL RICHARDS.
THE CELESTIALL PVBLICAN.
I That haue imperfections on my head,
Past Starres in number, or those sands that spread
The vast Seas bottome; shall not I confesse,
How oft 'gainst God, I desp'rately transgresse,
Put off Repentance still from day to day,
Abuse his Mighty Patience, still delay
His dread Command; And like a senselesse Sot,
Vnmindefull of his Mercies, minde them not:
No sooner doe I finde a good thought take me,
But from that Vertue, Flesh and Blood doe shake me;
The longer life, the more I sinne, and fall
From bad to worse, from worse to worst of all.
[Page]Let others boast their goodnesse, for my part,
Wretch that I am, I haue a sinnefull Heart.
So tyde and bound, fetter'd and chain'd within
So strong a Prison; such a Maze of sinne,
That 'tis as farre vnlikely for me worme
E're to winde out, as for to raise a Storme,
Or slacke a Tempest; Workes of Wonder stand,
Farre from the Reach of Mortals weake command,
None but the Hand of God, his speciall Grace,
Can pull me forth the Dungeon of disgrace.
'Tis God that frees poore Man from all the Vices
Of this Worlds wicked villanous Entices.
And shall I then, in impious wayes vneuen
Offend so good a God; Defend me Heauen.
[Page]My trembling Conscience tels me, I haue beene
A very fearefull Sinner, Slaue to sinne;
Of all Men, most vnworthy of Saluation;
My sinnes deserue Heauens wrath, Hell & damnation,
Yet Mercy, Mercy Lord, Mercy I craue,
Shield my sad soule from th'infernall Graue.
*Strangle my growing sinnes in their beginning,
*Demollish Lord in me Custome in sinning.
*For that is such a kinde of desp'rate thing
*Men dreame not on; O 'tis a damned sting!
*And thus it creepes on vs; thoughts that are bent
*To Euill, get Delight, Delight Consent,
*Consent drawes Action, Action Custome breedes,
Simile.
*And as the Sick-Man, (whom his owne death feedes)[Page]*Custome at large, takes sense of sinne away,
*Sends soules to Hell, when 'tis too late to pray,
The Doome supernall neuer findes returne,
To call thee backe to Grace; thinke on't, or burne.
Thinke Heau'ns sweete, siluer, Saints-Bell, toles all in,
To fright thee eu'ry Morne from vggly sinne.
Let Mercy, eu'ry Euening (which do's keepe
Thee from Day-dangers, Death resembling sleepe)
Be to thy soule a Prayer Booke, t'imprint
Teares in thine Eyes; Griefe in thy Heart of flint.
Be it so, heauenly Father, vnto me,
To me, and eu'ry one; Make vs to see
And shunne Sinnes Custome; with thy sacred wings
Guard vs from Danger, Blessed King of Kings,
[Page]Thou that at Home, abroad, at Sea, on land,
Here, there, and eu'ry where, didst euer stand,
My sure Protector, 'gainst griefes infinite,
Danger, the Iawes of Famine, Worlds despight,
Sicknesse, sad discontent, when I and Care,
Shooke hands with sorrowes Minion deepe despaire,
At that most wretched Time (my thoughts lockt vp
Beyond all hope of helpe;) then Mercies Cup
I freely tasted; blessed be thy Name
To me (my Gratious God,) proue still the same.
In my Extreames of griefe, I call'd on thee,
Mercifull God, and thou didst set me free,
Thou wert my onely Comfort in distresse,
Food, Rayment, all my Cure in heauinesse,
[Page]My true Physitian in vnruly madnesse,
Celestiall Musicke, in my sadest sadnesse,
Though all the World forsake me, God is kinde,
He solace giues to my disconsolate minde,
O be the same for euer, may no ill
Seduce my soule to disobay thy will.
While others carelesse of their Soules true health
Greedie (like Hell) hunger for worldly wealth,
Preferment, Pride, th' insatiate Diuell, Lust,
Luxurious Fare, and vainely put their trust
In glassie Glory, couzening State behauiour,
In valour Conquest, and Monarchall fauour.
While Soules thus erre, O thou the Lord of light,
Make me Heauen's Champion, Vertues Fauourite.
[Page]*Field Honor's but a Vapour, the sound brest
*Puts on Church Armour; Faith, and sleights the rest.
*In loue to Vertue, and true godly feare,
*Dwells Honour, not in Darts, Bow, Sling or Speare,
*Not in vaine Beautie, Strength, the Pride of Wit,
*Presuming Riches, Learning, Valour, Credit,
*High Birth, Nobilitie, nor Grauitie,
*Humanitie, nor yet Virginitie;
*But in the Humble Soule, whom holy Storie
*Speakes, to maintaine God, and the Gospels Glorie,
*The King, and Kingdomes safety, Churches Peace,
*The Virgins Right, Widdowes, and Fatherlesse:
*These are the Noble steps which euer waite
*On Vertues Court, 'tis the true way of State
[Page]*That neuer failes (as sacred Scripture saith)
*The humble, meeke, Religious Knights of Faith.
O Heau'nly Father, giue me Grace to fly
Delight in sinne, or suffer me to dye:
*Pleasures are poysons to this Soule of mine,
*There's no true Ioy on earth; but what's diuine.
Lord, teach me for to prize this world at naught,
Vpon thy Blessednesse be all my thought.
*Make me (my God) in hate to impure liues,
*Kicke at that Life, which Life of Heau'n depriues.
Make me to feele, those wonted holy fires,
Which rapt my soule in sanctifid [...] desires,
(Rauisht all sense) and with admir'd amaze,
Expos'd me, to that blessed burning blaze
[Page]Of glorious contemplation; thoughts diuine
Simile.
Then like Heauens Tapers in my Soule did shine;But now that Glory failes; my soule hath seru'd
Folly so long; 'tis readie to be steru'd.
Darke sinnes desire hath dimm'd the Christall sight,
Of Meditation, turn'd my Day to Night,
To dismall Night; where onely I may see
My selfe alone, stand like a desolate Tree
Forsaken of all her Leaues; the Fruite dead,
And eu'ry Branch of comfort withered.
Naked performance, of Heauens sacred Word,
Pulls Hell on me; Me thinkes the flaming sword,
Of Gods iust vengeance, houer's o're my head,
Simile.
Th' Element burnes, the starres like molten Lead[Page]Threaten destruction; while distressed I,
Like a condemned wretch sentenc'd to die,
Stand quaking at the Horrour, dreadfull woe
Shiuers my sinfull soule. What shall I doe?
Pitty me King of Thunder, Heau'n, and Earth,
Mercifull Maker; thou that didst giue me Birth,
Thou that canst muster Angels in the skie,
To safegard soules from blacke impietie,
Thou that dost feede, and clothe, and still perseuer
To giue me Health, be mercifull for euer.
I that am poore, weake, feeble, and too apt
By the worlds whorish wayes to be entrapt:
I that am slothfull, dull, and negligent,
Vnmindfull of thy dread Commandement,
[Page]Beseech thy pardon, forgiue my coldnesse
In seruing thee; pardon that sinfull boldnesse.
Pardon all idle prate; sinnes rotten talke,
Let not my steppes tread that accursed walke
Which leades to lewdnesse, base delight in Pleasure,
Desire of Pompe, Vaine-glory, Tott'ring Treasure.
Deale not, O deale not with me as my merit
Truely deserues; driue out the vggly spirit
Of all vncleannesse from my filthy flesh,
(My drooping soule with sanctitie refresh.)
Shrowd me beneath thy sacred Countenance,
Giue me thy Seruant Dauids Repentance,
The Patiency of Job, Paul's Puritie,
And soule-afflicted Peters weeping eye:
[Page]With holy Teares, Lord, make me to reiect
The sinne I (sinne-sicke sinner) most affect.
Heare me (Miraculous Maiestie) and giue
A Period to my cares, let me not liue
Frustrate of heau'nly thoughts; O send redresse
(Thou bidst me write) keepe me from Idlenesse,
From all ill Company, All waies vniust,
Sinne, Satan, and the Laborynth of Lust,
Simile.
*Like Joseph (Mighty Maker) make me fly*The tempting Baites of Beauties burning Eye.
*Diuert my sad distressed soule from vice,
*And Rauish me with loue of Paradice.
*Let not my wand'ring Eyes swimme in the fire
*Of Lust-stung lookes; nor let the loose desire
[Page]*Of womans naked Paps, burne out mine Eyes
*With sencelesse gazing; make me to despise
*All base desires, sinnes of ill-gouern'd youth,
*All wicked Customes, gainst thy sacred Truth.
Suffer me, Worme vnworthy, not in vaine
To call on thee, let me some comfort gaine
Or kneele for euer; happie man were I
To kneele, and pray, and praying thus to die.
My Armes are spread, come sempeternall Essence,
Rauish my soule; come blessed penitence,
Giue me a thousand stabs; my soule has need
Of many thousand Teares; then let it bleed
Pierce, pierce my stubborne Heart; make that the Inne
Of Grace, which yet is but the house of sinne.
At my dull follies I'le no longer wincke,
Sorrow shall be my Pen, sad Teares my Incke,
Misery my Paper, whereon I'le write
The sorrowes of my soule, my Youth's delight,
My Paths of Pleasure, prodigall expences,
My scarlet Crimes, and all my blacke offences.
This Booke I'le Dedicate vnto my Heart,
My Heart, chiefe Actor, in sinnes Tragicke part,
My Heart vnprincely, Reuelling within
My Body, that Banquetting House of sinne.
There chain'd to th' Magicke Musicke of free-will,
Riots in poyson'd pleasures, lewdly ill.
All that belongs to th' Body eu'ry part,
(My soule alone excepted) serues my Heart,
[Page]Best pleas'd, and best at ease with pleasures Bane,
Most glad, to be most bad, and in that vaine
Traitor to Truth, Each Limme a Mortall Foe,
To worke my vniuersall ouerthrow,
And to that end, with rude insatiate eyes,
Runne all a whoring after vanities,
Soule-damning Banquets, Pompe, bewitching ioy,
Forsake eternall Glory for a Toy;
Debarring hope of Heau'n, and sweete Saluation,
For moment pleasure, licorish damnation.
O false, false Heart, false to thy dearest friend,
Wound me no more, for pittie make an End.
[...] pittie thy blacke life, nor can forbeare
For thee, to shed, many a bleeding Teare.
[Page]Thou art my foe, and yet to see thee feed
Fat for Hells shambles my poore soule do's bleed.
Bleeds inward, vndiscern'd of any Eye,
Except my God, and my owne misery.
What shall I doe? faine would I shunne the sinne
My frailty most delights to wander in:
And yet I cannot; when I striue gainst vice
To stand most firme, I'me tript vp in a trice.
*Oh what a misery 'tis to haue a minde
*For to be truly honest, well inclinde
*And not to be suffer'd; such is the state,
*Of my sad bleeding soule vnfortunate.
Poore soule, that liues like Fortunes foot-ball tost,
In hazard eu'ry minute to be lost,
[Page]
Simile.
As is the ship 'mong Rocks, steerd by the skillOf an imperfect Pilats desp'rate will.
Simile.
Which, like a fruitlesse naught respected fly,Carelesse of danger, paine or misery,
Cutting the Ayre, flies at selfe-will so fast,
Till in the Spiders web 'tis caught at last.
So pleasure, soothing pleasure, doth beguile,
The sinfull Body with her couert guile,
Being the onely cause, when life for breath
During her short space, vainly striues gainst death,
Simile.
Then like a mast-lesse Barke in stormy weather,The soule driues vp & downe, it knowes not whether,
At last, for life misse-led, (sinnes that excell)
Body and soule at once, Iumpe into Hell.
[Page]*O thou the King, of those eternall fires
*Which spangle Heauen; good God grant my desires
*Infuse in me thy Grace, or I shall stray
*And so become a fearefull Cast-away.
*Helpe, or I sinke, belowe the lowe degree,
*Of sinnes extreamest infelicitie.
*Come, come Lord Iesus, O come thou and giue
*Helpe to my helplesse soule; I that doe liue
[...]imile.
Like the distressed Bird, trapt in a Snare,Caught by a lime-twig flying from the Ayre;
In which distresse, for comforts sweete reliefe,
Poore Innocent, with wings adds woe, to griefe,
So fares my soule, striuing sinnes snare to fly
Forc'd by deceit, liues snar'd in penury.
[Page]Accompaned with comfortlesse despaire,
With sobs, and grones, and selfe-consuming care
Simile.
In Sable sorrow sits, there sighs, and mournes,Wastes, and consumes, like a spent Taper burnes
Onely for a slash, ready to goe out,
With multitude of sinnes circl'd about.
The very thought do's shake me, and the feare
Simile.
Rowze my flint Heart, that like a frighted DeereAmazed stands; attaints mine eyes of treason,
Those eyes exclaime, against the eyes of reason,
The eye of reason, blames their wanton sight
As ouer rul'd by foolish appetite,
Each guilty of their fault, to sinne stand thrall,
No Limme but helps, th' oppressed soule to fall,
[Page]*Man at the best, his vertu's very little,
*His state a Bubble, at the strong'st most brittle,
Simile.
*Mans life is like a Game at Tables, where*A good chance happ'ning; if you doe not there
*Mend it with some good play; the sad Games losse
*Will vexe thy grieued soule, proue the sole crosse
*To all thy comforts; All quietnesse than
Simile.
*Leaues thee; and like a drunken seruing-man,*Which at his masters most need goes astray,
*Is euer sure, still to be out o'th way.
What shall I doe? Where, whether shall I fly?
Here, there, I know not where, lie downe and dye,
Vp soule to Heau'n, there get a glorious Crowne,
I am too weake, too vile, sinne puls me downe
[Page]O my vnworthinesse, my shame, my sinne
When shall I shake thee of, when, when beginne,
No; wilt not bee, can I not doe the good
I would? Must I be rul'd by flesh, and blood?
Weepe on, weepe on, dissolue hard heart of flint,
Melt, melt thou stony rocke, Teares neuer stint
Drop Marble Mount, drop to a crimson flood,
Sinke my sinnes in Seas of penitent blood.
Come folded Armes, and you sad Eyes, sad Heart,
Come Soule opprest with sorrow, play thy Part,
Haste to some gloomy-groue, there all alone
On the greene mantled Earth, sigh, sob, and grone,
Spend pretious time, with sacred thoghts that beares
Heau'n in their Eyes, true Vertue in their teares,
[Page]Complaine I will to fortune, not that whore
Which makes leane art, & pale-fac'd wisdome poore,
Ile not complaine to her; but to that En [...]
Almighty Fortune; in diuinest sense,
Groueling on Earth for sinne; Ile cast forth groanes,
Sighes shall conuert to Teares; Teares into moanes,
Then will I start, from ground my Body raise
Shoote mine Eyes vpward; against Heau'n I'le gaze
Thinke on my God; my God, whose sacred Will
I haue abus'd; my God most iust to kill
Damne Soule, and Body, my rememb'rance blot
Out of the Booke of Life, I that forgot
(In midst of all vaine ioyes, Intemp'rate healths
Loose wanton chambering lasciuious stealths.)
[Page]All-seeing Heauen; a God so good, so great,
He that to feed vs with Spirituall meate,
The Natiuitie of Christ.
Tooke humane shape; came downe from Heau'n, to EarthEnter'd the World; at whose soule-sauing Birth
The euerlasting gates of Mercy stood
Open to all; His houre of flesh and blood,
Turn'd night to day, Heau'ns glittering Angell came
And to poore men, poore sheepheards did proclaime▪
A Sauiour borne, sinnes fury to controule,
Neuer was such sweet musicke to the soule,
Before his comming; the Natiuitie
Of Christ brings mortals firme felicitie.
*Milde was his Birth; his Life creations wonder,
*His death, deaths terror; O thou God of thunder,
[Page]*Master of mans saluation, all the Earth
*Reapt plenitude of Ioy, when thou tookst Birth,
*Mortalls were bigge with sinne, villany ripe,
*Hells dreadfull Dragon, ready for to gripe
*Soules in his vggly pawes; But then stept in
*Our Sauiour; he redeemd lost soules, whose sinne
*Gaue them to death eternall; blessed houre,
*Blessed Natiuitie, thrice blessed powre,
*Me thinkes at thought of thy Natiuitie,
*I lie perfum'd in Immortalitie.
When Christ was borne, all were new borne agen,
Nere came like Musicke to the hearts of Men:
Angels for ioy, clap their Celestiall Wings,
And eu'ry Saint, eu'ry Crownd Martyr Sings
[Page] (Magnifico Deum) to mortalls peace
The calme of Conscience, and shall mortals cease
Their glad expressions? No, let hate to vice
Dissolue sinnes cloud; Eccho to Paradice
Our Sauiours welcome, let vs neuer more
Simile.
Lie downe to our dishonours like a whoreDead to good councell; neuer let darke deedes
Defile the Soule; Lets roote vp all the seedes
Of Pride, Lust Enuie, Hatred, and in place
Plant wisedome, meeke humility and grace.
*Christs Glory came cloathd in humility,
*To teach our Hell-bred Pride, Ciuility.
*Borne of a Virgin, came to the world a stranger
*His Palace an Oxe-stall, his Bed a Manger:
[Page]O're whose obscure aboad, Heau'ns Taper shinde;
And to the soules of wisest Men diuinde
Great Natures wonder; pointed them the way
To finde the worlds Redeemer; they obay
Made towards that fixed starre which in the skie
Was the blest Virgin Maries Canopie.
To Beth-lehem they came; there with hearts glad
Ador'd the King of Glory, poorely clad.
Nor could blood thirstie Herods strict command,
Nor bloody butchering of Babes withstand
His blessed Birth; whose admiration brings
Ioy to the world; blest be that King of Kings,
He that to cure sinnes Leaporous disease
A Heauenly Progresse fetcht, the Geste these:
The Adamant of Glory.CHRIST'S Setting forth from's Celestiall PALACE, Lodg'd in the Virgins Wombe; from that blest PLACE, To th' Manger went; from Manger to the Crosse; From Crosse departed (with his deare Blouds losse) Vnto the SEPVLCHER; there made all euen, And so Return'd, Gloriously Home to HEAVEN. To HEAV'N, from whence LORD let thy SACRED FIRE, GLISTER vpon my SOVLE, whose sole Desire, Begges MERCY for my Sinnes, makes knowne to THEE, THOV that hast RAVIHST ALL, hast Rauisht Me.
The Passion of Christ.
Thirty three yeeres, Christs sanctity did wereThe Cloth of our Redemption, and did beare
Times heauy yoake of crosses, that we might,
With ease sustaine all wrongs; in him delight
Simile.
*Like Martyr'd Stephen, whose lowd crying grones*Gain'd Heau'n ith' middle of a storme of stones.
*Loue lead him on; in Death this Saint was Taster,
*And first, that follow'd his Immortall Master
*Christ Crucifide; whom none that truly heares,
*But sure 'twill thawe their frozen hearts to teares.
*Christs whole Life was a Martyrdome, and Crosse,
*Actiue, and Passiue, and his deare bloods losse
*The Tragicke Part, the bloody Sceane which none
*But he himselfe must Act, and Act alone.
[Page]Alone for vs, (Heau'ns Glorious Lampe of Grace
Grou'ling on Earth) fell on his sacred Face,
He that is euer Lord of Mercies seate,
Water'd the Garden Cedron with the sweate
Of bloody Browes, and Body; heauinesse,
And deadly sorrow, seiz'd his blessednesse:
A kisse betray'd him, and a periur'd lie,
Was the Reward for all his puritie,
[...]n scorne, this Prince of Heau'n was buffetted,
Spighted, spitted at, Extreamly scourged,
Yet Torture ne'r mou'd him; he was silent,
In all his bitter suffrings patient.
Neuer did Earthly King, (free from annoy)
Receiue his Crowne, nor with a greater ioy
[Page]Went to his Coronation Dignifide
As Glories King; went to be Crucifide.
In him the Iewes derided Maiestie,
Condemned Innocence, scourg'd Pietie,
*Head, Hands, Side, Feet, they to the Crosse did Fi [...]
*Made him all o're a bloody Crucifixe.
Simile.
*Satan and Death like sawcie serieants went*To seize on him; to sheere that Innocent
*Blest Lambe of God; But he who was to saue
*All that belieu'd; they had no power to shaue,
*His Patience, Death, and Diuels force did quell
*He tooke the Great Leuiathan of Hell
*With the hooke of his Crosse; made him his slaue
*Captiu'd the Diuell, and subdued the Graue,
Simile.
*Like a long lookt for Booke, Christ in the PresseWas kept, to come in Print forth, for to blesse
*Our soules with that Saluation which do's giue
*New Life, whereby Eternally wee liue.
[Page]INRI.
The Key of Heauen.
[...]are Sauiour sweet, sweet was thy deare Compassion, [...]arely exprest in that most bitter PASSION;
[...]hen whipt and scourg'd, thou mildly suffer'dst all,
[...]owes, Buffets, Blasphemies, VIN'GER and GALL,
[...]ulting Foes Reproach, Mockes, Scoffings, Scorne,
[...]y SINEWES to be Rackt, thy BODY Torne.
Suffer'dst the Crowne of Thornes t' empale thy Braine,
Which downe thy Checkes forc'd showres of Bloud to raine:
Suffer'dst the piercing LAVNCE, that like a FLOVD
Sluc'd, from thy wounded Side, thy pretious BLOVD
Nayl'd to the Crosse; there CHRIST lost Soules to winne,
Suffer'd, the World's huge pond'rous weight of Sinne.
Heau'ns Wrath, Hel's Rage,
On CHRIST, all Torments fell
To saue our Soules frō those blew flames in Hell.
[...] which th' amazed EARTH with horrour shooke,
[...]arkenesse possest the WORLD, Day Light forsooke.
[Page]INRI.
The Key of Heauen.
Her wonted course; the Sunne obscur'd his Lig [...]At Death of IESVS CHRIST; that bloudy sig [...]
Made HELL to quake; Diuels with Admiratio [...]
Tremble to see the Cause of MANS Saluatio [...]
Oh the rich thought, strike, strike amazing Thund [...]
Shake Natures Frame; this impious Age with wond [...]
CAN muddie Mortals minde their Actuall EVILLS,
And not Christs SVFF'RINGS? (Such resemble Deuils:)
HAPPY the MAN, whose sacred SOVLE is bent,
FOR Christ's ENDVRINGS, firmely to REPENT,
What Tongue? What Pen? Not all Man's Wit can tell:
CHRIST'S Torments; they exceeded paines in Hell:
And all for MAN,
Ingratefull, wretched MAN,
Are we not bound, to loue and feare Him than?
O, yes, to spend whole houres, dayes, months, & yea [...]
In true Repentant Showres, and Flouds of Tea [...]
The PYRAMID OF Paradice.Blest, Blest, O Blest, Be that Diuinity, Three Sacred Persons GOD in Vnitie, WHOSE glorious Rauishing Resurrection, Restor'd Vs (lost) to Grace, Oh PERFECTION! Purifie thou my Soule, my Heart, my Minde: Snatch mee from Earth, to Heau'n make mee inclin'd, Wholy to Thee, (All worldly Pompe despising) Fixe my THOVGHTS, euer, On thy Blessed RISING: Giue MEE A Sempeternall Reuerence, To Thy ALL-glorious high Omnipotence. I that am clog'd with sin, & wretchednesse, Desp'rate thoughts hunting after Worldlinesse;) Thy Blest Protection craue, cleare the great score, Of all my fowle misdeeds, that I no more So great a Sinner prooue; Lord let my strife, Against my sinnes, Raise me from Death to Life. And from the Foote of vggly sinnes disgrace, [...]ount, mount, my SOVLE, to th' Pyramid of Grace.
Did each one truely know the true delight,
Wherein the wise contemplate Heau'ns rich sight,
'Twould fright th'excessiue sinners God-lesse face,
Make him, as in a Glasse see his disgrace,
Teare op'e his eyes, that all amaz'd with horrour,
Trembling he may behold with dreadfull terrour,
A guard of Furies, sucking at his soule,
That he may see his sinnes, horrid and foule,
(Liue as in sulphurous flames;) discerne his Euill,
See the fierce Deuill, and cease to be a Deuill.
Cease from damnations Heire, licentious life,
Cease from extreames in sinne, soule-murdring stri [...]
Abhorre to studie state with greater Zeale
Then Zeale to Heau'n, or the soules Common-we [...]
[Page]Abhorre with solemne Oathes periur'd to teare,
And racke the Name of Christ dreadlesse of feare
Wounding afresh (with trembling feare I write)
Wonder of Angels, that great God of Light.
His wounds, with Othes of wounds, flesh, bloud & hart,
(Honour of darkenesse) O blaspheming part!
Too too much vs'd 'mong God-lesse soules, who still
Infinite good pay with infinite ill.
As if no thought remain'd of future good,
No teares for him, that shed his pretious bloud,
Simile.
But as the comely Actor, whose faire partVpon the stage presents an honest heart
For two houres space, a Vertuous Noble Minde,
His Sceane expir'd, basely to vice inclinde,
[Page]Drinke, Drabs, and Oathes, making no other vse
With his faire Part but with excesse abuse:
*O you that stand on Pynacles of state
*Let not the World deceiue you, least too late
*From off your slipp'ry height you come in thrall,
*o pash your selues in peeces past recall.
*Sell not fare Lord-ships, to keepe Lady-ships,
*Nor sucke damnation from a strumpets lips.
*Touch not those Spells of Sparta, let e'm Rot
*When Vertue rules in Man, Lust liues forgot.
One onely Iemme, that's all the store I haue,
Great of that little nothing, which shall craue
Of Heauens Greate En's, not for my selfe alone,
But for thee Reader, thee, and euery one,
[Page]Rarenesse of Rare example, and withall
An euerlasting skie of Grace to fall
Vpon our warre on Earth, desiring Heauen,
For wayes on Earth are crooked, all vneuen.
*Saue me, O saue me, thou Eternall Terror
*To damned soules, I doe confesse each Error,
*The many thousand sinnes, vnseene, vnfelt
Which long, too long in my hard heart haue dwelt,
*To thee, to thee, thou Euer-liuing being
*Of an Eternall Maiestie All-seeing,
*With penitent Heart I come, I call, I cry,
*Pardon my sinnes, helpe thou All-viewing Eye.
*Looke downe Soule-sauing sacred God of Truth
*Forgiue, th' infinite follies of my youth.
[Page]*Shield me Diuinitie from Satans Ginnes
*Lord lay not to my Charge my Parents sinnes:
*Glory of Goodnesse in thy Mercy heare mee;
*Let Hate, Reuenge, nor Enuie ne'r come neare mee,
*Let neither Pride, nor hope of gaine deceiue mee,
*Nor pleasure, nor the want of Meanes bereaue mee
*Of sense; least senselesse wholy I despaire,
*And so become the wretched Childe of care.
*O sacred Sauiour make me euer trie
*To liue by honest Meanes, or let me die;
*Though griefe, and I, haue well acquainted beene.
*Lord let me neuer grieue, but for my sinne.
*So shall thy Mercy, ne'r forgetfull stand
*While I haue Tongue, a Pen, a Head, a Hand.
THE SPIRITVALL SEA-FIGHT.
EM'prour of Angells, O thou King of Starres,
Mans perfect solace 'gainst sins bloody Wars
When I behold, with contemplation Eye
The siluer Spangles of thy Glorious skie;
Me thinkes in that Blew-paper-Booke of Heau'n,
I see waies of Mortalls all vneu'n
The wretched soule of Man in euery Place
Liues as in Hell on Earth, without thy Grace,
[Page]Temptation on Temptation, past controule
Alures the Body, to betray the Soule.
Hell's Blacke Prince, Troopes of spirits eu'ry day
Inuade my sinne-seidg'd-soule; Furies display
Infernall Banners; while the Drumme of Death
Beates a dead March; and e're I can take Breath
Sounds shrill Alarums; hot Assaults beginne
The soules fierce Fight; muffl'd in cloudy sinne,
I liue beset, Millions of spirits round
Shoote at my soule; I stand on no firme ground
But tread on earth, as on a Ball of Ice
I cannot stand, nor stirre for slip'ry Vice.
My Soul's a Ship, tost on the Mountaine Seas
Of this vast World, she neuer liues ar ease;
[Page]*Her sayles are sighes, her Anchor deepe despaire,
*Her Compasse Error, her sad Pilot, Care;
Farre of from safeties shore, floates on the waues
Of fearefull billowes, Soule deuouring Graues.
Rough, blust'ring, stubborne stormes, yeeld no reliefe
On euery Shrowd, Each Tackling, hangs a griefe:
Death like a darke cloud, besets euery Place,
Here Rocks of Ruine, their Pyrates lie in Chase
In euery corner, Mischiefes hourely lurke,
Simile.
*Pride fights against vs like a furious Turke;*Lust like a trech'rous Spaniard; murd'ring French,
*Like an infected poyson's loathsome stench,
*Gluttonie like a Germaine, drunkennesse
*Like a Dutch Dun-kercker; whose impiousnesse
[Page]*Stiles him the Master Gunner, to giue fire
*To all sinnes blacke Artillery, Hells Ire
*Infernall chaine-shot, All soule-murd'ring strife,
To sinke Man's weather-beaten ship of Life,
Which to gaine Grace, no sooner weighs Anchor,
Sets sayle for safety, but straight sinnes Canker,
The deuouring Diuell, Pyrate for Hell,
Chasing flyes after, and with blacke Arts spell
Commands to stay; sometimes with beauteous formes
With songs of Syrens sometimes; sometimes stormes
Such pitchie Tempests, to be night the way,
As if the horror of the lattet day
Frighted the World; so stops the soule from blisse,
Shoots through, and through her, so she steers amisse
[Page]
Simile.
Then as in bloudy Sea-fights Men may seeTimes sacrifice to valour, no man free
[...]rom desp'rate danger; euery one maintaines
The terrour of the Fight (though with their braines
[...]asht in each others Faces.) Vitall breath,
[...]ost in a fighting flame; blood, and death:
[...]ullets, and Batteries, couers the ship all o're
Her dismall deckes with horror, purple gore,
And scatterd limmes; so the soules Pinnace
[...]n her spirituall fight sinnes do's deface,
Murders our best of thoughts, like raging Seas,
Winds, stormes & tempest driue vs where they please.
The poore afflicted soule, Satan so blinds,
[...]t knowes not where shee is; by whyzing winds.
[Page]Now tost toth' top of all the Azure Skie,
Now tumbling as to Hell, with frighted Eye,
Her Flag of sinnes defiance Tempest-rent.
Her Sayles torne all to Rags, her Maine-mast spent;
All out of Order: tossing to, and fro,
The soule distrest, knowes not which way to goe.
With gentle calme, check Satan's black storme, Lor [...]
Wee shipwracke else, Diuels will come a Board
Burne with Hells wildfire, Flame, Ruine, Race,
Blot our soules hope, helpe Minister of Grace.
Safeties in Heau'n, in this vncertaine Life
Nothing but Hell-bred quick-sands, Warre, and strife
Soule-killing vapours, worldly vanities,
Thicke clouds of vice Perpetuall miseries,
There is a Voyage, to the Holy Land
[...] which the Truth, our blessed Card must stand
[...]he Holy Ghost our Pilot to direct
[...]he steerage of our course from sinnes neglect,
[...]oth' Hauen, of Heau'n; that happy Port of Rest,
[...]aluations Guard, true Cape of Comfort blest.
There, Heauens bright Maiestie, our Sauiour sweet,
[...]its with the Hand of Mercy, for to Greet
And waft vs to him; O may all that stray!
[...]ayling along the Coast of sorrow, Pray,
Pray vnto him, hee'l guide their wandring Barke,
Tempest tost hourely in the dreadfull Darke.
[...]f thou be Sea-sicke call vpon him, and he
Shall soone with Health's sweet solace comfort thee;
[Page]Rebuke the raging windes, Times blackest storme,
And to a calme, Skie-swelling Seas reforme:
No Rocks, Gulfs, Sands, nor Seas cloud-kissing waue
Sinnes dreadfull Sea-fiight, nor the desp'rate brau [...]
Of Pyrates, none shall hurt; let then thy care
See thy weake vessell Rigg'd, well Man'd with praye [...]
And then launch forth, hoist sayles, and when you sp [...]
The Cape of good hope, keepe it in thine eye.
Let holy thoughts, death threatning storms o're com [...]
That whatsoeuer chance there shall become,
The vessell of thy Body being foule,
Make sure to saue the passenger, thy soule.
*He valiant, onely Vertuous is that can
*Subdue his Sinnes; Hees the true Noble Man,
[Page]*Ther's perfect valour, he true glory winnes,
*He's the true Souldier, that subdues his sinnes:
*Breakes through the pikes of sinne, all fiends that are
*In Hell, or Diuels ruling in the Aire,
(*Forcing his way to Heau'n despight all charmes)
*Enchantmēts, dead-sleeps, all soule-slayling harmes)
Simile.
*Wrestling like Jacab, constant in his fight*Mindfull of his maiestick-Makers sight.
To such belongs the Euerlasting Crowne
Of sempeternall Glory, true Ronowne;
Which to prepare thee for; cease to neglect
Th' Allmighties sacred seruice, let respect
Feare and true Reuerence to his pretious Word,
Be to thy soule that Helmet, Shield and Sword
[Page]Too strong for Sathan, all the fiery Darts
Of Fiends and furies, Arme thy noble Parts
Thy Soule, thy Heart, thy Minde, striue to fulfill
(The Maiestie of Heauen) his Diuine Will.
[...]imile.
And like the cunning curious ArchitectEarnest some goodly Building to Erect:
(Breaking his sleepe) wholly imployes his minde
On the drawne Modell; which when he do's finde
Exact, his Eye dwels euer then vpon it,
And his affection neuer driuen from it.
So when to thought we call our Sauiours blood,
(That sempeternall platforme of all good)
Shed for our sinnes, Let it for euer dwell
In the Idaea of our Mindes, so Hell,
[Page]Sinne, death, nor deadly desp'rate discontent,
Can barre the Heau'nly heart from true content.
*What vggly wormes are wee that dare presume
*To pawne our soules for pleasure, dare consume
*Our Time on toyes, when as we firmely know
*Time shall decay; we cannot feed, nor goe,
*Nor promise life a Minuite; we passe to bed
*But Ignorant to rise aliue, or dead.
*Admit day-light approaches, and the morne
*Inuites thee forth? thou neuer maist returne:
*Death by a thousand accidents do's meete
*Health, Wealth, and Beauty; stabs them in the street,
*He that least thinkes of death, some falling Tyle
*Timber, or Stone, do's suddenly beguile
[Page]Him of his life, yea oft' when he refraines
And seekes to shun it, dasheth out his braines.
These Tragicke Truths (true causes of dislike,)
Me-thinkes should moue vs to repent, and strike
A terror to our soules; force vs to see
Man's outward danger; inward misery
Which like an vnresisted roaring Tide
Runnes through our veins, and apts the blood to pri [...]
To all the sinnes that are, or euer were,
O horrid ill! haue wee not cause to feare,
To quake and tremble, when our dull dead Eyes
(Drunke with the poyson'd dreggs of sinne) ne'r spi [...]
The mischieuous perills, and the blacke affright
That hourely waite, on the Spirituall fight.
Fiends liue at Sea, and Furies on the Land,
*Gluttonie for a Corporall do's Stand,
*Au'rice a Pioner, Sloth you may spie
*An idle Gentleman of a Company.
*Wrath's the Serieant, Enuie the Colours gaine,
*Lust the Lieftennant is; Pride the Captaine:
These in the Heart of euery one take Place
Where cowardly soul's shun the blest meanes of grace,
Let vs for euer then resist all Euill
Wisedome commands vs to defie the Diuell;
To combate with our sinnes; oppose temptation,
Fight against Hell the Diuell, and Damnation.
This for a Caueat take, striue to doe well:
(Ingratitude to Heau'n, picks open hell.)
[Page]While Grace is offer'd then, Watch, Fast, and Pray▪
Ther's no preuention in the latter day.
*None liues secure, that to his Vice liues friend,
*A Vitious life, oft makes a vitious end.
*Strengthen me, my Creator, make me fight
*Thy HOLY BATTLE, let not the Worlds deligh [...]
*Disswade my soule; sweet Iesus, for thy merits
*Enable mee, Rowze my deiected Spirits,
*Vncharme Hells charme, O Sacred God vntie
*My fetter'd Soule, let mee not euer lie
*Lull'd in the Strumpet lap of deadly sinne,
*This Minute Sacred Sauiour now beginne
*To giue Release, and as thou didst prouide
*An Army of Angels, for Eliahs guide,
[Page]*Who (to secure him guirt with Enemies)
*Mounted his soule from worldly vanities.
*So Heauenly Day-Star, blessed Iesus end
*This my Designe thy holy Angell send
*To be my Guide, my Guard, my Sacred spell
*Gainst all Enchantments, witchcrafts, death, & hell
*So shall my Anthem euery morning be
*Glory of Heauen, shew mercy vnto me,
*To me Times wretch, most wretched; vilely base
*Wanting thy sacred aide, spirituall grace.
*Remember not my frailties; make me to grow
*Great in thy loue, thou that dost truly know,
*Of all the Blessings vnto Mortals giuen
*My chiefe desire on Earth, is Grace from Heau'n,
[Page]*The Blessing of th' Almighty Lord of Hoast,
*The Father, the Sonne, and the holy Ghost,
*Preserue, be with me, now, and for euer when
*My Soule is most distrest, Amen, Amen.
Spes mea Christo.
THE WORLD.
VAine is this World, this Strumpet World that can
Yeeld nothing cōstant, Loue 'twixt man & man,
Which next his Maker, should be most respected,
Is soonest broake; and most of all neglected,
Ingratefull, vile, the World's a very Whore,
Proud, rich in Vice, in Vertue most, most poore,
Misse-led by eu'ry vaine Phantasticke Toy,
To forget God, bewitch't with carnall ioy;
Bundles of Baubles, imbecilitie,
Biles of Apparell; Botch Nobilitie:
Lordships, Ladyships, Foolries and Fashions,
Lust-panting Humours; ten thousand Passions.
[Page]Rich Men, the more to blame, as this Age goes,
Debarre house-keeping to maintaine gay Cloathes;
A Rich Caroach, three hunder'd pounds a Gowne,
Thirty pounds a Smocke, or their Wiues will frowne,
There is no liuing with them, they must ride
Where, when, and how they list in glit'ring Pride,
High flashing burning Brauerie, blinde Eyes,
Flint Hearts, dull Eares, deafe to all poore Mens cries
Such is the dullnesse of Mortalitie,
And such the World's cold Hospitalitie,
*Each dustie Magist'rate with Brib'rie fed,
*One robs the liuing, another robs the dead,
*A third the Arch-Theefe playes by cunning stealth,
*Knaue Knights by Patent rob the Common-wealth,
[Page]*Ioyne with much, too much, ill iniustice, he
*Zodomiticall Lecher for a greedie Fee
*Dares license lust, glad if he may preuaile,
*(Sucke wealth from prostitute Harlots;) neuer faile
Man's minde which most his Maker should affect
(With feare, and trembling, and that true respect,
Belongs to his high Maiestie) the Net
Of sinne so snares, we worthlesse wormes forget
God's Thunder-darting Vengeance, glorious state
Still forget God, forget to contemplate
With Rauishing Loue, true loue, pure heart, pure eies,
That's the defect makes hourely mischiefes rise,
*Ambitious Lords Attir'd in Anicke shape,
*Ioy in the wayes of Lust, Murder, and Rape,
[Page]*Ladies with charmes, tricks, humours, that they haue,
*Abuse their Lords, dispatch them to the Graue.
*The Iealious Husband (mischieuous in ill)
*Through vaine suspect, his constant wife to kill.
*The carelesse Cleargy man in his degree
*Satan corrupts; makes for a golded fee
The greedy Lawyer fed by Clients strife,
Brib'd angels take, for the true Angell life.
Iust Iudge, the vniust dustie Magistrate,
Father the Sonne, the Sonne the Father hate,
Brother, the Brother, prosecute to death,
Quarrell for Toyes; stop one anothers breath.
The world do's hourly tempt fooles worldly wise,
The deceitfull Tradesman, that seemes precise,
[Page]And is an arrant knaue; to thinke the honie
And onely blessed life, still to get mony.
Mockes at the poore mans vertue, and in pride
Stiles him a vertuous foole; thus knaues deride
The pouertie of Men, which do's as farre
(In Heauenly wealth) transcend them, as a starre
The richest Iemme on Earth; But tis not so
With the worlds wealthy worldling; they say no,
Rich enough, Honest enough; all they can
Aimes at the outward, not the inward man.
*Pouertie made a scoffe, a scorne, a winde:
*Gold smothers Vertue, blackest Actions blinde.
*Gold got in God's name, with an honest face,
*Comes slow; but in the Diuels name apace.
Such is the world's condition, Good Men's thrall,
On Earth ther's no true comfort, none at all.
*The honest minded Scholler, shall ne'r lacke,
*Sorrow nor want of meanes to breake his backe.
*The pittifull Souldier, in his greatest need
*Ha's his throate cut, he shall be sure to bleed,
*The faire Gamester, for his milde square play
*Is soonest coozen'd, sure to lose eu'ry day.
*The faithfull Louer, still is paid with hate
*The more in loue, the more vnfortunate.
Be rich or poore, in high or low Estate
I'th mod'rate Meane, or fully fortunate,
Insatiate Mankinde, euer discontent,
Desires to liue, but neuer liues content.
[Page]In scarcity of Corne, for plentie crie,
In plenty, straight forget God instantly.
Such is Man's Erring soule, which ought to know
Simile.
*Lifes, but a long sad Pilgrimage of woe,*An Arke of trauell, shop of vanity,
*Storehouse of trifles, Inhumanitie:
*A Field of Stones; a Path of thornie Prickes,
*Meadow of Scorpions, Groue of Basilisckes.
The Worlds vnquiet rest, is all Man's foe,
*Dangers attend vs, where so ere wee goe.
*Mischieuous Deceits, Brawles, Quarrels, Fightings,
*False-hearted Neighbour-hood, base back-bitings.
*Friendship's so faithlesse Ripe, full blowne with euill
*A friend to day, the next for gaine proues Deuill,
[Page]The World's condition right; 'tis slaue to sinne,
Beware of it; the worlds a cunning ginne
'Twill entrap soules; call then to God for Grace,
*Let griefe for worldly Crosses, ne'r take place,
*Neuer let sorrow runne into extreames
*Vnlesse for sinne; so shall Celestiall Beames
*Glorifie thy Soule, make it Immortall,
*Free it from ills; what euer can befall
In this false promising World; this Maze of woe,
Where wretched Worldlings know not where to goe
To winde them out; such are the various wayes
Of life oppressing Yeeres, Months, Weeks and Daies
As Prose ill read, abide too much misusing,
Or Vertuous verse, when rogues haue the perusing,
[Page]*So fares it with the faire, and flourishing Line,
*Of that sweet Heauenly straine, Poesie Diuine,
*Basely neglected by the Monster Crew,
*Of Puff-Paste muddie Mindes; that pish, and mew,
*Make a wry, Close-stoole-face; a squint ey'd glance
*At Vertuous verse; (whose sad mischance,
*Is to goe vnregarded,) when the crime
*Of a lasciuious, Bastard, Ballet rime,
(*If baudy enough) though ne'r so vnfit
*Winnes fauour, profit, and the praise of wit.
*Read with delight, and much, too much requir'd,
*Coppies sought after, greedily desir'd:
*When perfect Poetrie, Musicke to the soule
Truth's firme Opposer 'gainst crimes filthy foule
[Page]*(If Read) most read for fashion, small delight,
*No comfort, no respect, but scornefull flight.
*And such is Vertues Foe; the Worlds proud Mini [...]
*In whom ther's no true Loue, no perfect Vnion.
O Diuine Poesie I lament thy state,
To see thy Beautie disproportionate,
So poorely in esteeme, their's few I see
Or none at all take true delight in thee.
*This wanton World farre sooner will approue
*Ioy in Pot-Poets, lousie Rimeing loue,
*Or wanton Ouids straine, to itch the care,
*And stirre the blood to lust, rather then heare
*The Glorious Godly Aime of Noble Verse,
*Which points at Heau'n; and tels vs of that fierce
[Page]All-threatning Thunderer; he that descries
Our secret deeds; those blackest Actions spies
At which, amaz'd. my Muse stands wrapt in wonder,
Beggs Mercy, Mercy, O thou God of Thunder,
Or we shall shipwracke all; All too too blame
Farre too vnmindfull of God's Sacred Name,
His Blessings day, by day, his, great Mercy
Long suffering, and Excelling Safety.
Why should we worm's stand pretious in Heau'ns sight
And not be damn'd to Euerlasting Night,
For our Foule erring sinnes, sinnes that Excell
The least whereof, merits the Paines of Hell.
Hell that this instant Gapes, to seize this world,
Deseruing euery moment to be hurl'd
[Page]To endlesse Flames; but for the Excellence
Of OVR FATHER'S, wonderfull patience.
O for the Pen of pure perfection,
To character Man's imperfection,
Open the blinde, excessiue sinner's eyes,
(Force Teares for sinne) make him, himselfe despise
'Twere Musicke to the Soule; Diuine delight
Th' vndoubted Path to pleasures infinite.
Holla Commanding Empresse of my Braine,
Whether thus flings my Muse; diuert thy Straine:
Man is so farre from making God amends,
That all his waies to wicked Actions bends.
The World's a Racke, Times Tenter-hooke to ketch
At mindes most honest; makes a man a wretch:
[Page]Thousands in [...], finding no way to cure it
Hazard the Gallowes, rather then endure it,
Mis'ry of Miseries, when Coyne growes scant
Man's Fortun's Foot ball, ther's no woe to want:
It dulls braue witts, when nothing else can doe it;
Tames, and makes desp'rate when Time brings vs to it
Want makes a man turne Slaue, vnto a Slaue
Scoft, scorn'd, and flouted at by eu'ry knaue,
By eu'ry silken sodden-headed Foole,
That neuer felt Heau'ns scourge, nor Mis'ries Schoole
Want, broacheth Mischiefes neuer thought vpon,
Makes many an honest woman wanton.
Simile.
Want (like a Madman) makes Men sweare and DiceForget their God, turne Vertue into vice.
[Page]Husband, and wife, the Sister, and the Brother,
Compel'd through want, deuoure one another.
Merchants, Lawyers, yea some Diuines will fall
When want do's soundly Gripe, tw'ill trie them all.
And therefore (As an Antidote) be sure
First that thou pray to God, that's the maine Cure
Gainst Woluish-want; and then bethinke thee sure
Vpon some honest meanes; 'twill new Create
Thy vnderstanding, put thee on a way
With Reu'rent Soule, on bended knees, each day
To serue thy God aright; so he from falling
Proues thy Protector, giues thee a Vertuous Calling
Heau'n grant the Honest Minde may neuer know
The fierce Assaults of want, that Hell of woe,
High-way to Theft, Cut-throate of Chastitie.
The Key of Whoredome, Bane of that true Loue
Which many boast, but few did euer proue.
Many vow Loue, for euer to be true
Yet, when want comes, Whores are not more vntrue.
How sweetly did that Sacred Psalmist sing
And runne Times true Diuision on the string
Of Misery, when he of God did craue,
Nor Want, nor too much Wealth, least in the Graue
Of damn'd Despaire, much want might haile him in
And Riches Mount him to the highest sinne:
Lackey his way to lewdnesse, to mistrust
God's Mercies, and to practise wayes vniust
[Page]A Holy feare seiz'd on that blessed King
To dread want's Dangerous Dart, Proud Riches sting.
May the Good Man, still thirst for Mercies Cup;
Climbe Jacobs sacred Ladder and mount vp
Into a fiery Chariot, Burning Zeale,
Liue a bright Angell in Heau'ns Common weale.
Free from this World; whose Pompe, and Brauery,
Is but a Land of Durt, meere slauery,
THE FLESH.
SInne Acts foule Lust vpon the Soule while it
Stands Puritan Punck-like, willing to commit.
The Flesh vnto the Soul's a bitter Pill,
(Sweet guilded Poyson, Candide o're to kill.)
Hurrid, Carocht in Pride, which glit'ring showe
Of swelling Pompe, whose sweet Effect is woe.
Fleshly delights beget much Misery
Makes Couples marrie vnaduisedly,
[Page]Thinking Loue tittle tattles, can feed their wishes,
Loue soone growes cold, where there is empty dishes.
Of all the sinnes that are, when nothing can
Ruine the Soule; the Flesh preuailes with Man,
His Eyes no sooner on Deuotion waite,
But in steps Carnall Concupiscence straight
She's at his Elbow still, to itch him on,
Th' vnhappy path to his Confusion.
*Chaste wiues are Saints, women that wantonize
*Witches, all poyson, Hell is in their Eyes,
In which, as in a Wildernesse of woe,
In striuing to get out, on mad men goe
Starke mad, past sense, spight of all Books and Schools
Ruine their Fortunes, proue the Slaues to Fooles
[Page]For an alluring Minutes trifling Ioy
A lewd Insatiate Longing, a meere Toy.
*O woman, woman, thy bewitching motion,
*Fooles wisedome, mads reason, and blinds al deuotiō
The Flesh (false Traitor like) striues to betray
The Soule to Hell, for an Infernall Prey.
Fleshly delight in Man, feares want of Breath
More then his God; sinne, or Eternall Death.
*When iust plagues come, thē sin-sick sots can tremble
*Make knowne to all the World, how they dissemble,
*Pray with the lip, (not heart,) wrest sacred Text
*To serue their owne Ends first, and then God next.
*Prouide to liue, in pestilent Times beginne,
*Take greater Care to flie from death, then sinne.
[Page]*Ther's nothing in our Flesh, but wickednesse
*Desire to liue, and obscene wantonnesse.
We forget now that dreadfull dismall chance
The Terrible Arrow of Gods vengeance,
When Death buried farre more, then th' Earth could swallow,
And no man to the Graue his Friend durst follow,
O why should Mortals wish, long life to liue,
What Comfort? what true Ioy do's this life giue?
*Ther's nothing, not one thought that do's vs good,
*But it is strangled straight, by Flesh and blood,
*Holy Saint Paul, finding the Flesh Rebell,
*desir'd to be dissolu'd, proud Flesh to quell,
*And Sacred Symeon sung 'gainst sinnes encrease
*Lord let thy seruant now, depart in peace,
[Page]Shall such soule-sweetning preparations be
Forgotten quite; O blinde securitie,
*Life louing Fortunes, how yea puffe Men vp,
*To hugge their Follies, drinke damnation's Cup.
What is it we behold, in this vaine life,
But dayly griefes and dangers; sinne, and strife.
*When my soule-erring Eyes, staring behold
*A dang'rous Strumpet, flame in glit'ring gold,
*(And murd'ring Beauty; sparkling from her Eye
*Burning Temptation) then me thinkes I spie
*My most apparent mischiefe, plainely see
*How I ne'r striue to please my God, as shee
*Striues to please Men; such is the flaring Pride
*Of the vaine Flesh, it hurts on euery side.
[Page]There's nothing constant in vs, if to day
Vertue we loue, to morrow Vice obay.
Man at the best, is now become so fraile
As what cannot a spruce Queane, with a smooth Tail
Make him beleeue; such witchcraft euer fly,
Lust reuells, in the Magicke of her eye.
That star-shooting, twinckling eye, do's ne'r shine,
But to the Ruine, of all thoughts diuine.
Twixt her aluring Lips, there liues a Spell
To sucke, and sincke, and kisse a man to Hell.
Touch but her Palmes, there sinnes moist hand inuit [...]
To a soule-damning Banquet; such delights,
As often makes the wisest Man an Asse,
Coward, and Foole, Times vitious Looking-Glasse.
[Page]Licorish entice pants on her Naked Brest,
Snaring the tim'rous soule, to all vnrest.
And like a feauers Puse, t' encrease desire,
Beates thicke vpon the Heart, sets all on fire.
What a notorious Coxcombe vnto sinne,
Lust makes of Man, slaue to a whores soft skinne?
What's a delicious Harlot but a Cheater,
A poyson'd Marmalad Boxe, which rots the Eater,
A Harlot in her best of Brau'rie can
Be but a kinde of greasie dripping-Pan,
So often put toth' fire, it proues a flame,
So burnes the Basting-Sticke, so Lust growes tame.
Loue is a chaste Queene, noble Wisedomes Bride,
Lust a Hot Whore; for eu'ry Knaue to ride;
[Page]*Loue is a Virgin sprung from Vertues Race,
*Lust an alluring Strumpet past all Grace:
*Loue is a vertuous wife, Times constant Woman
*Lust a proud Harlot, the true Scourge of Man.
The chiefe praise of a good wife do's not lie
In outward shew, but inward Pietie,
If Vertue Rules her blood, she merits Loue,
If not, I will assure thee she will proue
Like a deceitfull Glasse, where Man may see
Hee's meerely Cheated in her; O Miserie
*Man makes a woman proud with [...],
*A wonderous wanton toy, beleeue that,
*Marke but the cunning Beautie seeing men gaze,
*And yet not seemes to see, note but her waies
[Page]See how shee tempts, with what a charming smile,
Puts poison in her Eyes, eyes to beguile,
Seducing eyes, aim'd at Eternall Light,
From Heau'n, to looke on Hell, prurient delight,
Deckt, trimm'd, adorn'd, trickt vp to pull men on
With Pride of Eyes, to their confusion.
Note the varietie of all her charmes,
The Lazie, idle, stretching of the Armes;
The Yawne, and then the Hey-ho, rolling eie,
Sicke stomacke for the Act; O Luxurie:
Thy flames, in wanton women, strangely moue,
*She that delights in Lust, can neuer Loue.
Obserue each gesture, how she takes a pride
To itch the Bu [...]e; to friske from side to side,
[Page]Mop, mew, bite Lip, and wriggle with the Taile,
There's not a ioynt about her that shall faile
To catch at Man; be Icie cold as stone,
Shee'l finde a Tricke to melt affection.
In each behauiour liues a Venome snare,
There's language in the curling of her haire,
Eyes, Cheeks, Lips, Hands, no motiue Limme so weake
But serues to tempt; her very foot shall speake.
Shee'l part each other in such dall'ing sort
As if shee'd doe with th' Ayre for want of sport.
Crosse legges, and then with itching thighes & knee
Open and shut the passage by degrees.
Takes pleasure to be seene to wantonize,
And is best pleased, to please Letchers Eyes.
[Page]*Like those Nice Dames that will in outward show
*Not wrong their husbands, no forsooth, O no,
*Not for a World; stand on their honestie,
*Quote Scripture, symper, looke most modestly,
*Sweare and forsweare, should the first husband die,
*Ne're to wed more; Yet marrie presently,
*And then protest the single life temptation,
*Phy out vpon 't, foe to Procreation,
*Thus seeme in publique pure; but in priuate
More secretly open, more insatiate
Then the hot Monkie 'th veneriall Marke
Skip, friske, and fling, doe wonders in the darke.
And like the Jesuite, thinke Lust done by stealth
Dainty, secure, suddaine, and done for health
[Page]*The onely Cure, Lusts raging flames to quench,
*Is Aqua lachrimarum; that will stench
*The wounds, proud Harlots so delight to make
*On the poore soule of Man; make him to quake,
*A fear'd to stand on that false Rocke of Ice
*Idlenesse, feeder of foule Carnall vice,
*Blacke errors cloud, South fog, which rots the mind
*Leapours the Soules, and is the Northern winde
*The cause of all sins Stormes, that dang'rous Flo [...]
*Lusts surging Ocean swelling in Mans blood.
O Diuell desire of Lust, mee, mee, forsake;
I charge thee hence, by him that made Hell quake
By that Almighty One, in sacred Trine
All Holy Spels, and Charmes, Magicke Diuine.
By that sweet excellent Sacred Puritie
(Sister of Angells) Virgin chastitie.
Fly from me all base thoughts; be iust mine Eyes;
And be your selues, hate wantons witcheries.
THE VICIOVS COVRTIER.
GOe, harmelesse Satyr, if thou smell a Rat,
The Dogge of Enuie, of the blacke ey'd Bat,
For op'ning the faire Truth, misconster sence,
Knit the base Brow, of daring impudence,
And wisely like a Wolfe-like Aduocate,
Make thee dangerous, vile, a thing of hate,
If honest Satyr such thou meete, defie,
Spare not to giue the Fooles and Knaues the lie.
There was a Time, when hadst thou play'd the knaue,
Thou might'st haue flourisht and haue flourisht braue.
[Page]Fortune that whore, the Worlds aluring Ginne
She had beene true, hadst thou beene true to Sinne
God knowes I enuie no Man for his Greatnesse,
For his Prosperity, true Worthinesse,
I ne'r reioyc'd at any Mans sad fall
But wish a Vertuous happy life to all.
This then my Comfort be, my minde appease,
He that writes best, can neuer all Men please.
None e're could shunne, the Censure of a Knaue,
Nor enuie, of a currish Natur'd Slaue.
*'Tis common now, without the cause discerning,
*Fooles wil find fault, with that, they haue no learning
I write not rash with Enuie, to defame
For some particular wronge, any man's name,
[Page]Shall I at Fortunes Fauourite grieued be,
Because Ioue made me not, as great as he:
O no; 'twere basely bad, blacke is the soule,
Clogg'd with the horror of a sinne so foule.
[...]airely my Muse appeares, onely to shew
What's lewdly ill; that Noble Mindes may know
The Vicious Courtier, he whose Mushrome sight
Time stiles ignoble, a meere Carpet Knight.
A Lazie Lust stung Lord, periur'd, vniust,
Slaue to the Itching of his Mistris Lust.
One that admires her brauery with Oathes
Much wicked-wit consumes in gawdy Cloathes:
Which speakes him to the World a March-paine Man
A very mighty Muske-Cat; one that can,
[Page](To please State-strumpets) turne Capitall Calfe,
Reu'rence her shooe-shadow, in her behalfe
Sweare by Olympicke Ioue, she's the Fairest
That e're breath'd, most Excellent, the Rarest,
Spending the Time in Commendations,
In Sighes, Tales obscene, Visitations,
Set Faces, and set speeches, pickt from Playes,
Quaint apish Gestures; O the many wayes
(To please Madam Much-adoe) the rare Jewels,
Musicke, Masques, Baudie Banquets, Midnight-Reuels
Cocke-Sparrow Humours, absurd Complement,
Which makes the Vicious Courtier confident,
So ridiculous blinde; that his braue Trull,
(Times prurient Puppet) can perswade the Gull,
[Page]After her Forme to paint, powder the haire
Which (catching Councell) seeming passing rare,
Duely the Asse obserues, curiously Nice,
Best pleas'd to immitate his Cockatrice.
To smell all Amber, chiefely to preuent
Lues Veneria, that infectious sent,
Bred in his rotten Entrals, through th'Excesse
Of stirring Meates, insatiate wantonnesse,
That too too common Delectation,
Poyson of wholesome Recreation,
(Sinnes slauish seruitude, Excessiue ill,)
And Bane of Vertue; is much made of still,
By such; who (rather then the Enterprize
Of Noble true Knights louely exercise,)
[Page]Delight in painted out-side, Costly fare,
To studie the fashion, looke bigge and stare,
Aduance the head like a Malt-Horse, be proud
And speake no matter what, so it be loud.
Bountifull to Bawdes, Mis'erable to th' poore,
Sell all, whole Lordships to maintaine a Whore;
To stirre vp th' intellectuals of loose Ladies,
To melt their Chastitie, get Bastard Babies,
Times were not so, when Worthies shin'd in Armes,
Reioyc'd in Vertue, not in the wanton Charmes
(Of braue Madam Vanitie the Puppet)
Loose Embrace of a consuming Strumpet,
But brauely fought for Virgins in distresse,
Relieu'd poore Widdowes, and the Fatherlesse,
[Page]Striuing with faire, renowned, valiant Acts
To chase Jniustice, punish euill Facts.
O blest performance Noble race of men,
Worthy the praise of an Immortall Pen,
Your Famous Deeds, past starres, recorded stand,
For euer and euer, written by the hand
Of sacred Truth, to the Eternall shame
Of the sinne-branded Vicious Courtiers Name,
Let him that notice takes, take this of me,
If Man of Money, or of low degree,
Let not the hope of gaine bring that to passe,
Which makes a Dunce, obserue a golden Asse,
Nor let thy Minde, at any time accord,
To be the Slaue to an infamous Lord.
As if no Plagues remain'd in spacious Hell.
Engag'd to mischiefe, and to villanie,
To pleasure Vice, embrace iniquitie,
The Honour due for Ʋertue; that Reward
Is naught (but base contempt) meere sleight Regard
He that will get by such, must well dissemble
And tell the Fooles, they God's on Earth resemble
Obsequiously the Parasite must play
And hazard blacke Damnation eu'ry Day.
Insinuate, and so waxe knauish wise,
Be a stampt Ʋillen, learne to temporize,
Sweare, and forsweare, depraue, informe, and lie,
Change each houre Religion, periur'd die.
[Page]Plot, plot, and set friends hourly at debate,
Cling to the surer side, the weaker hate,
Turne Baud at midnight, (Pander to the Itch
Of an Adulterate Cloth of siluer Witch.)
Practise to know to mixe with perilous Art
The deadly Poyson with the amorous Dart,
Neatly obtaining, by times cunning skill,
With Stibium, and Cantharides to kill.
Such sudden Fellowes, nimble in Damnation,
Are Vicious Courtiers greatest Estimation:
When disrespected Honest men forlorne
Liue miserably wretched, Ragg'd and torne.
As for the true bred villaine, he shall lacke
Nor Gold, nor Cloth of Gold dawb'd on his backe
[Page]Yet when the Slaues too many secrets know,
Oft with a Spanish Figge, they headlong goe
Hurrid to Hell, the damned soules to tell
What glorious villaines, here on Earth doe dwell.
*That with a Politicque straine, can make all sure
*Murder, with murder; murder, to secure.
*Drunke with Conceit, that greatnesse beares the sway
*Safely to Act, what Villany it may.
*There is a Tricke, such neuer faile to vse
*In which their dearest Friends, they'l most abuse
*With faire pretext of Honorable Loue,
*In secure cunning, onely to remoue
*And shift him forth into another Ayre,
*To purge, and lessen, least his Vertues rare
[Page]*Should merit Kingly Fauour, make him hie,
*Aduanc'd in state to greatest Dignitie.
*The Iealious thought whereof, to mischiefe bent,
*Doth sund'ry secret practizes inuent
*How to decline that growth, if none take roote
*Swift Mercurie, a suddaine dramme must doo't.
Others there are, that smiling Flatter all,
Proue for to each, but Friend to none at all
And such (beleeu't) make vse of Time, and Place,
By seruile slauery, most creeping base
(Kissing the Clawe) appeares with Coxcombe bare,
Praising the Vitious Gloworme past compare,
With O-Right vertuous Lord; such sleeke Regard,
Replenish Flat'ries Cups, with full reward.
[Page]Like Spiders, webs of Flattery they weaue,
The pleasing Eares of Great-Ones to deceiue:
Which once Entangl'd by some Quainte Deuise
Chops off their heads, 'tis practiz'd in a trice.
They'l giue occasion that may moue discourse
And by a Tricke, some dang'rous Theame enforce,
To draw a doubtfull question to the worst
They'l make men guilty, then betray e'm first,
These are the onely spies, that gape for prey,
Cut-throates in silence, smile, and then betray.
Intrap th' vnskilfull, beg their forfeit Liues
To graspe their States; thus the vile Villen thriues
Whose whisp'ring poysons, speakes him sins supporter,
Machiuillian Darknesse, the Ʋicious Courtier.
[Page]Him, the true Noble Minde must euer shunne,
Or liue (in hazard still to be vndone,)
Slaue to the Vanitie of Pompe, high Place,
Ambitious thoughts, Sinne, and a double Face;
Cringes, and Creepings, all the base desires
Of sinfull Life, plagu'd with infernall fires.
What e're thou arr that carelesse shalt resort
To th' Court of Vice, onely to see the Court;
Take heed, beware of that Enchanted Glasse,
Where Pride in Mortals, Fiends in Hell surpasse.
There shalt thou Masques, such midnight Reuel finde
Such Musicke, Banquets, to alure thy minde,
As will affright the blood of Chastitie,
Turne Virgin Loue, to hot Lust's Plurifie.
[Page]There shalt thou those, of Ʋenus Traine behold,
Burning Temptation flame in glit'ring Gold
And though adorn'd with Pearle, the Richest stuffe
Their inflate Pride, ne'r thinke them braue enough.
Were Gownes Embost with Golden, Starres so fine,
That in each Starre, a Diamond should shine,
Still, their high Towring lofty daring Pride
(Like Lust restrain'd) Liues neuer satisfide.
If checkt for it; straight swiftest Mercury
Strikes dead th' opgosing Foe to Ʋenerie:
Like (sometimes) that sad most Lamented Knight
Who did by a Tricke; in such a wofull plight
(By Sugar Candid Poysons) workt in Paste
(From Sinne and Murder sent,) whose delicate Taste,
[Page]Vnder the fein'd pretence, of seeming good,
Consum'd and burnt, his vitall Crimson blood,
Such is the Mighty-Madams-Murdring spight,
*Court Concubines ne'r kill, but with delight.
Curb'd for their Pride, like God's ill Angels swell,
As if Earth's Diuells, and the World their Hell.
*Pride is their Zeale, their Prayers forgetfulnesse.
*Charity, Contempt, their Vertue wantonnesse
*Plumpe, high-fed pamper'd flesh, on whom must wait
*Page, Pander, Parasite, preparation State,
*Gold: Glistring Glory, Cost, Curious dyet,
*Insatiate Pleasure, and luxurious Riot.
And why all this high feeding, Rich Attire,
But like bright Beacons, flaming all on fire,
And know what fooles they make, know them to be
Soule-flaming fire-brands, Expert in Euill
Witches, Hell-Cats, Factors for the Deuill,
Sucke-blouds, Hyena, Syrens Crocodiles,
All Scylla and Charybdis, whose proud smiles,
Take pleasure to entice, make Men deface
Their Soules faire Temple, for a poore Embrace,
A lushious Pleasure, lewd lasciuious greeting,
A pleasing sweete, but a most bitter sweeting.
Neuer was any great Arch-mischiefe done,
But by a Whore, or a Priest, first begun,
A Cloth of siluer Slut, Times Tissue Trull,
Can with close Cleopatra's Kisses Gull.
Nor is it them shee loues, but their high powre.
Groomes, of the meanest qualitie in Court,
Can make her fleshly fulnesse, sweeter sport,
A glorious shee Smocke-statist can amaze,
Fire famous Troy, and set the world at gaze.
A Drab of State, is a consuming Flame,
Oft, fiers the Hearts of Princes, past reclaime.
Turnes Ioy, to deepe and Melancholy sadnesse,
Poysons the bloud, and fils the braine with madnesse,
*Why should she else, with painting seeme more faire?
*Suffer her naked Breasts lie open bare?
*Why vse false coulour'd haire, Embost with Gold?
*Pownc'd with Perfumes, Lockes curled to behold?
[Page]*Why Oyles? Waters for Teeth? Why void of Grace?
*With spots (like Rats-Dung) to blacke patch the face?
*Or why (in Baths of Milke) wash her proud skin?
*Why wrong Heau'ns work-manship, with such hie sin?
*If not like CIRCE, by enchantment strange,
*Men into Beasts and Beast-like natures change.
*Confounding sense, all reason sits a side,
*Such is the force of her affected Pride.
*A painted Face sleckt o're by cunning Art,
*Is but the Pride of a luxurious Heart.
*A discontentment of God's worke vpon her,
*To wooe mens Eyes to Lust, and her dishonor.
*Painting's the Nurse of black thoghts, damn'd deuises,
*It makes the soule imitate greatest vices.
[Page]What is it else? but daring Impudence,
Gainst the bright Glory of Omnipotence,
Lusts Looking-Glasse, Torch of Iniquitie,
Th'imperious Mistris of all Witcherie,
A slimie sinne, dawb'd o're the painted wall
Of foulest Folly, to catch fooles with all,
A painted Face, harbours a Heart of Flint,
There is no rellish of Deuotion in't.
Lust, Pride, and Enuie, all the sinnes that are,
Waites on the painted Beautie falsely faire.
Still busie in her Eare, her Minde, her Eye,
To whore away Man's soule with foolerie,
The painted outside of a tempting Face,
Spotted with Hell, stands sequestred from Grace.
[Page]*Such Prodigall sinfull sweetes, Men ought not haue,
*Nor see th'aluring Face, vnfit to craue.
*Soules that will mount, high Heau'ns, Celestiall state,
*Climbes Vertues Ladder; vicious Actions hate.
*Man, that will ne'r be tempted, past his might,
*Runnes from the Glit'ring Strumpet, flies her sight.
*O happy is the man, blessed for euer,
*Whose Life, in flying Sinne, Ioyes to perseuer.
Ʋita nihil peius iniqua.
THE IESVITE.
NOt like ye Masse-Priest, he whose mouth is cram'd
With words yt speak all Protestants are damn'd.
Him nor his Flocke, I dare not censure so,
Nor meane to write more then I iustly know
To be most true; In which knowne Path I finde,
Counterfeit Catholiques, so grossely blinde,
They dare outface Heau'ns Truth, forg'd lies maintain [...]
To Cloake the cunning Iesuites subtile Braine,
He that do's Theefe-like waite for Ʋertues fall,
Liues in perpetuall watch, to blow vp all.
[Page]The President, recorded stands for euer.
In this Realmes safety; which hel's Plot can neuer
Wipe from Rememb'rance; neuer shall the Euill
Of that close Secretary, to the Deuill,
That Jesuite GARNET, liue forgot while I,
Haue Pen, or Hand, to write his Tragedy,
(That Myne of Murther, Mischiefes Master-vice,
Lodg'd in the Politicque skull of Auarice)
His desp'rate Soule was such, hee durst to swimme,
A Sea of Ʋice, be rackt in eu'ry Limme.
All Tortures suffer, rather then Reueale
The Treason, his Religion bids conceale.
Witnesse thou Ghost of Garnet, this is true.
He that han'gd, drawne, and quarter'd, had his due.
[Page]To him was knowne, the powder pitchie Treason,
Neuer to be forgot, he knew the season
When, where, and how, that suddaine bloudie blow,
(Blacke, Hell-bred, Thunder, flaming, ouerthrow,)
Should haue bin giuen; knew the Times short space,
When no soule should haue time to pray for Grace,
Or cry, God helpe; The Treason was so foule,
The Traitors would haue damn'd both body and Soule
If in their power; and eu'ry soule i'th Ayre
Tost vp, sent vnprepar'd of heau'nly prayer,
With all their sinnes; O horrid, horrid Act,
All this the Jesuite knew; conceal'd the Fact,
And rather then disclose, least warning giue,
King, Prince, and Nobles, not a soule should liue,
[Page]Here was a Villaine; yet I'ue knowne in Spaine,
The Traitors death so moan'd, such Credit gaine,
(Though here he dyde, for Treasons iust Complaint,)
There Monster Iesuites, make a Martyr'd Saint.
Mischieuous Masse-Priests to his meriting Fame,
At the high Altar in a spatious frame,
Aduance to him, as to a Saint most blest,
His Body-mangled Picture, thus exprest:
Garnets Picture.
Bare Head, white Beard, Lookes sober, in his Gowne,*Him ouer head, Angels with Laurell Crowne.
*About his Necke, a long large Halter tide,
*Hangs, (as befitting such) downe the Left side.
*His Belly ript, bloud seeming open raw,
*Holding in his right hand, his pictur'd straw.
[Page]*Beneath his right side, flames a Heart in fire,
*'Boue his left side, Limmes quarter'd, Treasons hire,
*Presented on a Towre; which Pictur'd storie
Straw-sainted set vp to'th Arch-Traitors Glory.
Inuites each eye, yea all the World to see
Jesuites, Protectors, of all Villany.
*Poys'ning of Princes, held as trifling things,
*With them, 'tis meritorious to kill Kings.
Can this Religion be, they thinke it pure,
But Man ne'r knew Religion more impure,
Their Church, is but their Baud, bad deedes to further,
Th' onely sanctuary for bloud and murther.
Plots, Practizes, hellish abomination,
Pardons for Treason, holy approbation
[Page]Of that ill-Sainted wretch (his cursed fault)
That Father to Faux, the Diuell i'th vault.
Such Judas-Iesuites euer Traitors proue
To King, and Prince; disloyall in their loue.
*Yet outward fawning seeme on bended knee
*Low as the earth; O true hypocrisie,
*Vnder the milde aspect of Reuerence,
*In duty, and submisse obedience,
*With Oylie Eloquence, best pleasing Phrase,
*Catching Orations, full of flat'ring praise,
*When in the Heart, abides no spot of good,
*All treach'rous thoughts; all thirsting after bloud,
*The fall of Princes, change, alteration,
*The Protestants Religion's desolation,
[Page]*Such is the Iesuites diue'lish disposition,
*The nature of the Beast, his true condition.
*He that can temporize, by Booke maintaine
*To serue his ends; and glut his God-lesse gaine.
*Be what he least seemes, cold in deuotion,
Enuious, at one anothers Promotion,
*Not lowly minded, but proud Ambitious,
*In tongue a Saint, in heart a Slaue vicious.
*Preach diuine patience, when himselfe shall be,
*The waspish Image of all Tyrannie.
*Spleenatiue, choll'ricke, And who so offends,
*Is so farre off from euer being friends,
All-bee't he seeme a Calme, yet if he liue,
Hee'l be reueng'd, be sure ne'r to forgiue.
[Page]Such is the Iesuite, such his double Face,
And such his charitable signe of Grace.
He that dares awe his Countrey, King and State,
Smile, and yet be a villaine, all men hate,
Set Princes at debate, befoole the Tymes,
Poyson the world, with irreligious Crymes,
Swell Battles, Murthers, make whole Kingdoms shake,
Shed Innocent bloud, all for Religions sake,
To defend Religion, what Religion's this,
To seeme deuoute, and doe so much amisse?
*Colour Religion, with meere gullerie,
*Wrest sacred Text, to maintaine Roguerie,
(*As if Religion were a formall Law,
*Religion onely to keepe fooles in awe,)
[Page]Defend Controuersies; woe to those dayes
Woe to such Serpent-snarling Church-Mens wayes,
*Sinne ne'r triumphs, strikes a more Fatall stroake,
*Then when 'tis couer'd with Religions Cloake.
That Iesuite, he, who speakes diuinely faire
Yet hath a wicked life; I may compare
To fire, stand off, doe not come too neare it,
You then may safely warme; need not feare it.
But if thou vnaduisedly presume,
Approach to nigh, thee it will burne, consume,
So the deceitfull Priest, come not neare him,
Shun his Acquaintance, you need not feare him.
Fly his dissembling sight, his blacke life spurne,
If lodg'd within your bosome, he will burne
[Page]With show of holinesse burne and scortch.
Waste thee, in thy Estate, like a spent Tortch.
There's not a Gentleman of meanes do's die,
But with his Heire, the Iesuite presently
Shares in his Land; with shew of Reuerence,
(Winning of Soules) couers concupiscence.
Commits with all he likes, any Man's wife,
Makes her beleeue, 'tis to preserue his life.
Perswading Letch'rie, with their Ghostly Father.
No Sinne, but a Deede of charitie rather.
Sad-sickenesse to preuent, to scowre the Veines,
To mundifie, and for to purge the Reines,
Ergo plena Charitatis; An Act
Of meere Commiseration, such a Fact,
[Page]As to denie it, (were a damned sinne)
Puls curse on curse, which hath for euer bin
Iustly inflicted; punishing all those
Repugnant Natures, with the worst of woes,
Despaire, assur'd confusion, dismall horrour,
Suddaine destruction, Death, Infernall Terrour,
Hell, and the Diuell; for that high offence
Of Stubborne refusall, disobedience,
A sinne, impossible to be forgiuen,
Such is the Iesuites charge; of purpose giuen,
To please his Lust; makes that, a gainefull Trade,
Lies with this Lady, and that Chamber-Maide.
Here giues a Pardon, there denounceth Curses,
So betwixt both, sure to picke all their Purses.
[Page]The Nimble Slaues Church-knauerie can strip,
And fetch your greatest Lady o're the hip.
With a religious show, put tricks vpon her,
Rob the beleeuing Foole, first of her honour,
Then pardon Sinne; and then he may enthrall,
Rob her [...] Coyne, Plate, Iewels, Smocke and all,
Doe, and vndoe, Her Charity's soone drawne
For baudie Iesuites, her best Smocke to pawne,
Their thread of Doctrine 'mong women spun,
Is to whore all, be she the chastest Nun,
If she denie to yeeld, Murther and Rape,
Shall Wolfe-like seize that prey, there's no escape,
Such is the Murd'ring Minde of him we call,
Natures Monster, Priest Iesuiticall.
THE DIVELL.
SEarch all the Earth, you eu'ry where shall see,
Satan most busie, from the Church not free,
The very Pulpit haunts, and being vext,
Seekes how to put the Preacher from his Text:
Such as teach others, yet themselues neglect,
And with sinnes Callocke hide their owne defect;
From Pew to Pew, vnseene; Hel's Feind do's creepe,
To dull the Hearers Eares, Ioggs some a sleepe,
Some to vaine prattle, others still to prie,
With wanton lookes, for a bewitching Eye.
[Page]Some greedily imployes, to spie out Fashions,
To glut the humours of proud womens passions.
Makes muddie Mortals, at each other looke,
More then on Heau'n, or Gods all blessed Booke.
And such is Satan's craft, continuall Motion,
To draw mankinde from Heau'n, and all Deuotion.
Tempts some to Hate, Ambition, some to slide
The slip'rie sleights of Pompe, vn-paid for Pride,
Others to swimme the Sea, Lust pleasing vice,
Some wet damnation, most men Auarice
Seruant to Satan; Satan which do's striue,
Man of all heau'nly solace to depriue.
God (for our sinnes) no sooner Angry growes,
But straight the Roaring, suddaine Diuell throwes
[Page]His Pawes on vs; And like himselfe beginnes
(For Numbers numberlesse of desp'rate sinnes,)
To seize the Soule, made an Eternall prey
To burne in Hell, as Heau'ns iust Cast-away.
Such is the Fate of Soules, ensnar'd within
Satans command; beware the Twigge of sinne,
Least touch will take thee Pris'ner; Hellish Guiles
Proue like the perilous paths of Crocodiles,
Who with their slimie Tongues (lickt o're) prepare
To murther Mortals, by a slip'rie Snare.
Man is a Tree, whose Roote what i'st? thoughts euill,
Bad Deeds the Body, yeelding to the Deuill.
The Armes, ten proud aspiring discontents,
Breakers of all the Ten Commandements.
[Page]The Branches are, our proanesse vnto ill,
The Leases Pleasure, the faire Fruit sinne, which still
With sweetest show of sweetnesse, tempts vs on,
To feede and follow our destruction.
*There's feare aboue vs, feare beneath vs,
*Feare round about, and yet no feare within vs.
Satan like Dalilah, suffers not men,
For to see danger; is't not fitting then,
By holy violence, we seize the Sword
Of th' Omnipotents, Omnipotent Word,
To slaughter sinne in vs; O shall not we
(That professe sacred Christianitie,)
Conquer our Crimes; thinke on the life to come,
The rising of the Dead; that Day of Doome,
[Page]When this vast Othe of Earth shall blazing burne,
An all the World in Funerall Flames shall mourne,
Then Heau'n and Hell amazing shall appeare,
In two extreames; Ioy, and excessiue Feare;
Heau'n in bright shining All Eternall Light,
Hell in the Horrour of perpetuall Night.
Heau'n shall triumph, Hell tremble, Angels sing,
Gloria in Excelsis, to Heau'ns high King;
The King of Heau'n; Heau'n Ioyes perfect solace,
All-Rauishing, glit'ring, glist'ring Palace,
Pleasures Paradice, Immortall Dwelling,
All pure, excellent, past thought excelling,
Heau'ns Pauement are the starres, in what excesse
Shines Heau'n, whē star-pau'd with stars numberlesse.
[Page]No thought of want, which mads the thoughts of men,
But plenties fulnesse, full abound in Heau'n.
There, Virgin Chastitie in Life opprest,
Glitters in Saint-like Glory, liues most blest,
The poore man tost, from wrong, to iniurie,
In Heau'n findes comfort, firme felicitie.
The wronged widdow, iniur'd fatherlesse,
Bright Heau'n releiues, giues all their woes redresse.
*He that for ill, do's good; Heau'n will requite,
*Crowne his faire soule, with Comforts infinite.
Is it not fit then, we our sinnes bewaile,
Thinke still on Heau'n; on Heau'n that ne'r did faile
The penitent heart, when (alas distrest,
Naked, forlorne, when most of all opprest.
[Page]Then sends reliefe, miraculous reliefes,
Such is the Loue of Heau'n, Heau'n cures all griefes,
As for Times Wolfe-turn'd ill-affected great Ones,
Close-fisted to the poore, deafe to their Groanes,
The villaines of this Age, that make profession,
Of a pure Life; yet liue by base oppression,
Hell shall confound their soules, that Den of Horror,
(Circl'd with blacke affright, blew-burning Terror)
Shall boyle their soules, and bodies, toth' blacke sweat
Of an infernall poyson; and that eate
Still to renew new paines; plagues that excell
Such are the neuer-dying paines of Hell.
There, painted Pride liues crown'd in flaming fire.
The Glorious Strumpet, whipt with burning wyer
[Page]Fed, is the Lust-prouoking Letcher there
With scortching Coles; such as delight to sweare,
Swallow the Drunkards euer scalding Oyle,
There, Vsurers in Pooles of Sulphure boyle.
Murther, Rape, Incest, endlesse torments feele,
The Racke of vengeance, and the burning wheele
Whirl'd round in blew flames, soule-amazing feare,
*More Plagues thē Tongue can tell, the damned beare.
In burning Beds of steele, soules blazing fry,
Tortur'd with torments, such as neuer dye,
Cursing the Time of their abus'd Creation,
Parents, Fate, Sinne, and their owne damnation.
Better, O better neuer to be borne,
Then with such Terror-striking Torments torne,
[Page]Which to eschew, weepe wormes of earth, repent,
Weepe, weepe for sinne, soule-killing sinnes preuent,
*Seeke Heau'n, shun Hell, fly from the worlds entice,
*Heau'ns the Reward of Ʋertue, Hell of Vice.
*Perfect Repentance, makes men brauely die,
*That ne'r liu'd so; fly then Hels Miserie,
*Deferre not thy Repentance till to Morrow,
*Shed Teares for sinne, O 'tis a sacred Sorrow.
*Repent or damne; for sinne weepe, and weepe well,
*Soules that doe floure at Teares, shall fry in Hell.
God in his infinite Mercy ne'r forsakes
The soule which fights with sinne, and vndertakes
To doe it's best endeauour; striuest' expell
The subtile shares of sinne, and striues to dwell
[Page]On Vertues mount (free from the tempting vice
Of the World, Flesh; and Diuell, all th' entice
Of all ill Company; whose venome bloud
Each diuine thought in Man, each deed that's good,
Seekes to corrupt, to poyson, betray soules,
And drie their vertues, like parcht parchment scroles.
From which dire Mischiefe, the Religious still
Protected stand, by the Almighties will.
Simile.
As the young Bird for food do's neuer cease,Op'ning the Mouth, vntill the Damme release
And cure the want it suffers; so should we
*With vnlockt lips still pray, that God would free
*Our soules from sinne, O 'tis a blessed taske!
*God ne'r leaues giuing, till we leaue to aske.
[Page]What a large, Extreame folly 'tis to spie
Man (like the Wolfe for prey) how earnestly
He hunts for meanes; as if the onely honie
Of Soule, and Body, did consist in monie;
Meat drinke & clothes; men sicke, still pray for health,
Ready to be vndone, for paltry wealth,
Freedome, and safety; And with shamelesse Faces
Forget to beg of God, Spirituall Graces.
*Many Men pray; But he the Glory winnes,
*Who prayes, to be disburthen'd from his sinnes;
*And viewes the poore Mans Labour, with the Eye
*Of sweete reliefe; ther's Noble Charitie:
*The heart of such a Man, may sometimes shrinke
*Vnder Temptations weight, but neuer sinke:
[Page]*God makes him here, Lord Steward of that store,
*He deales so chearefully among the poore;
*Giues him the Grace to thinke, when to his sight
*A poore wretch comes, to begge of him a Mite;
*He might haue beene that begger, his Estate
*Transfer'd on him; and begging at his Gate,
Or in the streete in Raggs, opprest with griefe,
Glad to beseech him, for some poore reliefe;
To such faire soules; Iehoua in his loue,
Giues Gifts of Grace; he their defence will proue,
God's promise is, (if feruently, we pray
And vse our best endeauour eu'ry day
To fly from sinne, resoluing to betake vs
To holy Meanes, he neuer will forsake vs.
[Page]God, is so ki [...]e, he cannot, will not see
His Serua [...] [...], to damn'd impietie.
Neuer did any, doe their faire endeauour
To pray to him, that euer lost their labour.
Nay more; if God but see thy inclination
To pray; He will preuent thy supplication,
Answer thy full desire e're thou canst craue,
Grant that, thy heart did neuer hope to haue.
He made the Eare, to heare the happinesse
We haue from him; the Tongue still to confesse
The Glory of his Name; our Eyes to see
The workes of his Almighty Maiestie.
Hand, Heart, Knee, Foot, God the whole man did frame
All to reioyce, in his All-Sacred Name.
To Him? O no; Heauen grant I neuer [...].
Ride thou my Soule vpon some winged Cloud
To th' Heau'nly Haruest; Fly to the sacred Shroud
Of Sempeternall Safety; Fly the sight
Of blazing Beautie, flaring Earths delight,
Malicious Mindes; mischieuous Man's inuention,
Faire Lookes, false Hearts, stampt in a foule intention,
Take flight my Soule, flie from the dismall Den
Of this Darke Age; the impiuousnesse of Men
Fly from the pond'rous Plummets of blacke Vice
Which puls to Hell; helpe Prince of Paradice,
I faint, I die, sinne loades my soule with Horror,
The World, the Flesh, and Diuell, all with Terror
[Page]Hangs, on my fetter'd Limmes Pris'ner to eare
I liue steru'd, Tortur'd, Tempted to despaire.
Heare me Eternall Essence, which hath made
My soule to pray, send me thy sacred aide
On the bright Sunne Beames of thy sweet Saluation,
Draw (Lord) draw vp the Dew of my Deuotion.
Mount Soule, vpon the wings of Charitie,
Helpe Heau'n, vp Heart, Fly at Eternitie
Rowz'd like a Towring Faulcon in despight
Of Hell, and Furies, Fly to thy Makers sight.
*Happy the Man, whose Actions, striue to swimme.
*Through Seas of Tribulation vnto him,
*The way to Heau'n, is full of Rubbs, and Thornes,
*We cannot passe, but by the Lane of Scornes.
[Page]*The Diuell sets his Baites, in euery angle,
*No Corner's free from him, soules to entangle.
Therefore, in Vertues Path, striue to excell,
Let feruent Faith, repulse the Fiend of hell.
Diuines may Preach else till their Heart strings burst,
The Height of Sinne will Mount; liue still accurst
FINIS.