The soules heavenly exercise set downe in diuerse godly meditations, both prose and verse, by Nicholas Breton gent Breton, Nicholas, 1545?-1626? 1613 Approx. 67 KB of XML-encoded text transcribed from 86 1-bit group-IV TIFF page images. Text Creation Partnership, Ann Arbor, MI ; Oxford (UK) : 2005-03 (EEBO-TCP Phase 1). A16797 STC 3700.5 ESTC S113342 99848578 99848578 13683

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Early English books online. (EEBO-TCP ; phase 1, no. A16797) Transcribed from: (Early English Books Online ; image set 13683) Images scanned from microfilm: (Early English books, 1475-1640 ; 642:05) The soules heavenly exercise set downe in diuerse godly meditations, both prose and verse, by Nicholas Breton gent Breton, Nicholas, 1545?-1626? [12], 157 p. [By R. Bradock] for VVillam Leake, Imprinted at London : 1601. In prose and verse. Running title reads: The soules exercise. Identified as STC 3700a in reel guide. Imperfect; pages 81-82 fragments; pages 81-96 bound out of place. Reproduction of the original in the Folger Shakespeare Library.

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eng Devotional exercises -- Early works to 1800. 2003-10 Assigned for keying and markup 2003-11 Keyed and coded from ProQuest page images 2004-11 Sampled and proofread 2004-11 Text and markup reviewed and edited 2005-01 Batch review (QC) and XML conversion

THE SOVLES HEAVENLY EXERCISE

Set downe in diuerse godly Meditations, both prose and verse, by Nicholas Breton Gent.

¶ Imprinted at London, for VVillam Leake, 1601.

TO THE Right honorable William Rider, Lord Maior of the citie of London.

RIght Honorable, I haue read, that newely after the Coronation of Alexander the greate, diuers of his subiectes, as well of the Nobilitie, as meaner condition, did present his greatnesse, with such giftes as their abilities could purchase, to manifest the na ture of their loue, or seruice: among all which, a poore Mason, not so rich as cunning, in his Arte; and yet as willing as any, in some token of his seruice, to make some manifestation of his humble loue, brought into the Court a bagge full of stones; but what they were, or how they were wrought, was not knowen to anie, neither would hee let any man see them, till hee was brought vnto the Emperour: where, vpon a table, hee laid before him his owne Image, but in so deade a colour, as if hee were to be laid in his graue, with these words written vpon his breaste, Talis eris. Diuers of his Court, at the beholding thereof, began to frowne at the poore Mason, that hee durst at such a time of pleasing triumphes, present his Maiestie with a picture of such melancholy: but the Emperour, taking by the inspiration of Gods holy spirit, a gratious apprehension of the poore mans loue, not only did thankfully accept the present, which he caused to be set vp in his owne chamber, euer after, as a cō tinual glasse for him euening & morning, & at all houres to looke vpon, but after a bountifull reward, entertaining him for his owne Mason, vsed these wordes of him vnto al those that did attend in his presence: Here are many of yee, that I am beholding to, for many tokens of your loue and seruice, but chiefely vnto this man: for some of yee haue beene sent by your fathers, some, by your friends, some from your own spirits, with such thinges as ye haue presented: but this man neither from father, friend, nor from himselfe; but onely from God of heauen was sent vnto mee, not with a toy to delight mee, nor a Iewell to enrich mee, but with a continual warning, not to sinke in the delight of vanitie, nor to trust in the drosse of this worldly treasure, but in the greatest of my greatnesse, to humble my selfe, to him that is greater than I, & who hauing made me greate, can bringe mee to nothing at all; and whatsoeuer, I am, or may be, doth she we mee what in the end I shall be. Thus farre of this historie I haue set downe for my purpose. Your Lordship, newly stept vp vnto the state of Honour, I know shall be followed with many friends, and gratified with many presents, which I know you will not receiue vnthankfully: but among all, I beseech you not to refuse, at the hands of an humble heart, the passionate meditations of a patient spirite: which, in the Euening, and Morning, and at all houres, if your Lordshippe wil vouchsafe at your leasure to looke vpon, yee shall see, that whosoeuer hath come to you, and whatsoeuer is brought you, GOD that set mee to worke, hath sent mee vnto you, to present you with such a glasse, as will shewe the great comfort of his grace. By which I humbly beseech his eternall Maiestie, to guide your thoughtes, wordes, and deedes, to his infinite glorie, the contentment of her Maiestie, the increase of your owne Honour, and the comfort of all that loue you: among whome, the least worthie to bee named, I humbly rest

Your Honours, in all humblenesse, N. B.
THE SOVLES EXERCISE.
A prayer for the Lord Maior. In the Morning.

OH blessed, gratious, most merciful & glo rious good GOD, whose only eye of mercie beholdeth all the dwellers vpon ye earth, & out of the bounty of thine only blessing, dost elect thy creatures to thy seruice, my deare GOD, that tookest Moses out of the water, to leade thy people through ye wildernesse, Dauid from ye sheepefolde, to sway the scepter ouer thy people Israell, and Ioseph from the prison, to be gouernor ouer many people; & now out of meane estate hast aduanced me, among many, thy most vnworthy seruant, vnder ye scepter of my gratious Soueraigne, to sway the sword of iustice ouer this thy blessed city, let not sweet Lord, this great blessing of thy goodnesse be lost in my vnthankfulnesse, but so inspire my hart and soule wt ye grace of thy holy spirit, yt by the rules of thy direction, I may discharge the care of my duty, by thy mercy, & my soueraigns boūty cōmitted vnto mee; yt thy name may be glorified, her Maiesty pleased, & thy people preserued. Blessed God, blesse, I beseech thee, all thy people of this cyty & land; but especially, thy gratious and chosen seruant, and our most gratious and Soueraigne Queene, Elizabeth: inspire her with the speciall grace of thy holy spirit, that in the wisdome of thy will, she may direct the course of her happie daies, and by the mercy of her Iustice, she may so carry the Scepter of her gouernement, that thy glory may be encreased, her Maiesty admired, and vnder thee, her people be blessed. Blesse oh GOD all her honorable Counsell, that they may vnfainedly discharge the care of their dueties, in the true honour of their places: Blesse the preachers of thy holy worde, with the true knowledge and deliuery of thy holy word, and giue them that inwarde care of thy holy will, that, by the faithfulnesse of their loues vnto thee, they may be lights of good life vnto thy people. Blesse all the Magistrates, not only of this place, but wheresoeuer, wt a good and dutifull care of their charge committed vnto them: and giue me, in the grace of thy holy spirit, that true feeling of thy goodnesse, that in the sway of Iustice, I may not swarue from thy lawe, but with continuall care of thy will, I may so discharge the duety of my seruice, that in all my courses I may seeke to glorifie thy holy name, the contentment of my gratious Soueraigne, and the benefit of this, thine, and her citie. Oh gratious GOD, holde thy hande of mercie ouer it, destroy it not with Sodome and Gomorrah, for the sinnes that raigne in it: but like Niniue reforme it, and in thy mercie, preserue it: make many good gouernours ouer it, and thy people obedient vnto authoritie: oh gratious God, encrease the happie daies of our gratious Soueraigne Queene Elizabeth, not as thou didst Hezekiahs, with fifteene yeares, but many fifteens: continue her faithfull, and honourable Counsellours, this and all her cities and townes, discreete and carefull Magistrates, and euery where, true louing & obedient subiects: preserue not only this city, but the whole Realme, wt yt gratious plentie and blessed peace, wherein it now liueth, and giue me grace to my vttermost power, to labour for the preseruation of this place. Oh Lord let not this my aduancement make me vnthankfully forget thee: but acknowledgeing thy goodnesse, be euer mindefull of thy mercie, neither let the pride of authoritie, the masse of treasure, nor any worlds felicitie, haue power to draw mee from thee, but that thankfully accepting thy blessings, and carefully discharging ye duty of thy seruant, whensoeuer it shall please thee to call mee, I may willingly leaue the worlde for thy loue: oh god heare mee I humbly beseech thee, be thou a wall vnto this citie, to defende it from foraine force, and blesse it with that ioyfull peace, that may cōtinue the concorde of thy people. Graunt this oh God, and whatsoeuer else thy glorious Maiesty, in thy gratious mercy, shall thinke needefull for mee; that after I haue passed my pilgrimage in this vale of misery, I may by the merite of thy mercy, obtaine a place, in that true Paradise, where, with thy Saintes and Angels, in the traine of thy beloued, though the least in thy kingdome, in thy heauenly Ierusalem, I may be one of thy blessed citizens, where in the ioy of my soule, I may sing to thy glory.

Amen.
Another for the Euening.

OH gratious God, with most humble, thākfulnesse to thy holy glorious Maiesty, for thy heauenly preseruation of mee, this day, and all the daies of my life, I humbly beseech thee receiue me with all the Magistrates and members of this citie, into the heauenly guard of thy holy grace, be thou a continuall watch ouer it, that none of thy people doe perish in it: awake those that sleepe in their sinnes and take them againe vnto thy grace, confound the deuises of the wicked, that seeke the destruction of thy people. Blesse the labours of the vertuous, preserue my gratious Soueraigne, and withall her faithfull Counsellours, and louing & obedient subiects, blesse mee and my house, make vs, and continue vs, thy humble and faithfull obedient seruants, and in the peace of thy mercie, receiue vs into the Almightie hād of thy holy preseruation; yt waking or sleeping, vprising, downelying, going forth and comming in, being preserued by thine only goodnesse, wee may glorifie thy holy name, thorough our only Lord, and Sauiour, Iesus Christ.

Amen.

O Almighty God, and heauenly father, from the hande of whose onelie bounty floweth the Riuer of all comfort, and, in ye foūtain of whose grace, is foūd ye only water of life; D eternall God, father of all mercy, and God of all glory, who knewest mee before I was, hast made me that I am, and art not ignorant what I shall be, in ye worke of thine only will, to the only glory of thy holy name; how shall I vile and wretched worme of this earth, & wicked, sinfull creature of this world, humble my selfe enough at the feete of thy mercy, to offer vp vnto thy holy Maiesty, with ye teares of my heart, the sacrifice of my soule? Sweete Lord, I am foule, and polluted with iniquitie, & am therfore ashamed to come before thee: I haue beene a Rebell to thy lawes, and am therfore worthy to be banished from thy presence: Yea, I haue so delighted in sinne, that I am afraide of thy iudgement. Oh Lord, I am full of feare, my sinnes are before mee, my conscience doth condemne me, and thy Iustice falleth heauily vpō mee, and whither then shall I fly to helpe mee? if to heauen, I knowe the Aungels will abhorre mee, if to the worlde, it will but further infect mee, and if to hell, it will but torment mee. Is there then no helpe for me? Yes sweet Lord: in iudgemēt hath Iustice her grace, but in mercie hath Iustice her glorie: in ye glorie therefore of thy mercie, I humbly beseech thee looke vpon me: of nothing thou madest me, & being worse then nothing without thee, let me ioy in nothing but thee: be thou the strēgth of my hart against the enemies of my soule, and the life of my loue in the ioy of my spirit; that, being defēded by thy mighty arme, and preserued by thy bolie spirite, in ye gladnesse of my hart, I may sing to thy glory.

Amen.

MOst mercifull, and Almighty glorious euerliuing and euerlouing God, ye comfort of thy sorowfull, the ioye of thy faithfull, & life of thy beloued, heare, I humbly beseech thee, the humble praiers, of a penitent sinner, from the high Throane of thy holy mercy, cast one good looke of thy comfortable pitty, vpon the wounded soule of thy vnworthy seruant. O deere Lord, thou knowest my sins, and my sorrows are not hid from thee: what shall I doe to be ridde of this foule euil? no Surgeon can launce it, Phisicke can cure it, nor salue can heale it. Oh the wounde of sinne, that corrupteth the heart, cankreth the flesh, and eates into the very soule: is there no way to kill it? shall thy seruant liue in it? and his life die in it? sweete Lord say no, for thou only canst say no: thou hast conquered the author of it, thou hast a remedy against it, & canst wholly consume it: sweete Christ therefore, that knowest my hurte, & hast my helpe, heare my cry, & send me comfort in thine vnspeake able good nesse looke mercifully vpon me, with one droppe of thy deare blood, wash me cleane frō my iniquities, with one spark of thy grace, enter into my soule, and rebuke the wicked fiend that he follow me no more: saue me out of the ye claws of the serpent, keepe from the assaults of the diuell, and deliuer mee from the malice of the wicked: Let me humbly seeke thee, truely finde thee, faithfully loue thee, and continually liue to thee: make mee hate the worlde for thy loue, and forsake my selfe to follow thee: dissolue me intoteares, to fill the bottle of thy mercie, consume me into sighs to make a sacrifice to thy glory, make me nothing my selfe to be wholly thy seruant: do with me what thou wilt so I may be to thy holy will, Let me die to sinne, & liue to grace, that in ye true fruits of repentance, I may glorifie thy holy name: and in the ioy of my soule, I may sing to thy glory.

Amen.

O most mercifull and almighty God, Lord of all comfort, loue, and life, in whose holy sight is no mārighteous, whose wrath no man is able to abide, & whose power no man is able to resist: O glorious king, before the feete of whose eternall maiestie, the very Angels doe tremble, the powers of Heauen doe shake, and the mountaines are readie to melt, how shal this sinfull and wretched soule of mine, that with so many horrible sinnes hath offended the glory of thine vnspeakeable goodnes, presume before the seate of thy sacred pittie, wt the least hope of thy mercy. In my selfe is nothing but sin, & ini quity, both hatefull in thy sight: to my sin belōgeth nothing but horror & cōfusion, by ye iudgemēt of thy vnpartiall iustice: and how then can I looke for any thing in my selfe, but hel, & dānation! Dear god, I cōfesse vnto thy diuine Maiestie, such is ye nature of my corruption, as giues me no other expectation, whiles I looke vpō mine owne desert: but when againe, with the humble eye of a penitent heart, I beholde the bleeding wounds of the blessed bodie of thy dearely beloued sonne Iesus Christ, and see in his merite a present helpe for all my hurte, in his death, my life, and in his loue, my eternall consolation; how can I despaire of one droppe of comfort? where I see a fountaine of so much grace, as quencheth ye thirst of all yt come vnto it, ioyeth ye harts of all that taste of it, and reuiueth the soules of all that drinke of it: No, my deare Lord, in him alone, I humbly beseech thee, looke vpon mee, in his woundes let me hide me, till in his merite, thy mercie heale mee: I dare not speake to thee: let him onely speake for me, beholde his goodnesse, and not my wickednesse, looke on him that hath pleased thee, and for his sake forget mee that haue offended thee: it is I that haue deserued death for my sinnes; but it is he that hath dyed for thē; and since hee hath satisfied thy iustice, in him let mee begge mercy: mercy good Lord, Lord of all mercy be merciful vnto me, in Christ his passion forgiue mee, in his loue looke vpon me, let his bloode wash mee cleane from my sins, and his kindnesse be a Mediatour for my comfort that, being by him redeemed to thy seruice, I may in his loue, liue to thy glorie, and in the comfort of thy holy spirite, in the blessing of his merit, and ioy of thy mercie, I may sing to thy holie Maiestie, the eternall Halleluiah.

Amen.

O Blessed Lord, father of all goodnesse & mercie, who seest the very thoughts of men, before they be effected, and knowest the world before it was created; O incomprehensible GOD, whose vnsearchable wisdome is vnspeakeable in all goodnesse, who hast made the heauens for thy beloued, and beholdest on earth the teares of thy afflicted; who onely canst doe all things at thy good pleasure, & art plesed in nothing but goodnes: sweete Lord yt hast mercy ouer al thy works and art the onelie worker of all mercie, who hast commaunded al to come vnto thee, hearest all that cry vnto thee, and helpest all that trust in thee; deare god among the humble heartes of those penitēt soules, that, with the teares of true repentance, in the faith of thy sonnes merit, fly onely to thy sacred mercy, I most humbly beseech thee, vouchsafe thy gratious eare, to ye grieuous complainte of my tormented spirit: oh Lord, that hast enlightened my soule wt the shining beames of thy grace, that hath taken awaie the scales from mine eyes, that would not let mee see the heauen of thy holy loue, hast, in the pretious blood of thy deare beloued sonne Iesus, cleansed mee from my sinnes, and in the sweetenes of thy loue giuen me a taste of thy selfe, hast reformed my soule to thy seruice, & anewe moulded my minde to thy mercy, sweete Lord I humbly beseech thee, let not all this good be lost in me, that thou hast done for me; giue mee not ouer to my selfe, that sinne doe not ouercome me, but keepe mee so vnder thy winges, that no wicked spirit may haue power ouer mee. Thou knowest my tēptations, oh deliuer me from them: rebuke those wicked spirits, that I may be ridde of them, and confound their illusions, that I be not deceiued by them. O Lord cō sider my miseries, I am a wretched sinner, dust and ashes, f •• of nothing but corruptiō, weaknes & iniquity, & thou art a glorious God, spirit & life, creator of al cō fort, & only ful of al power, goodnes, & glory: sweet Lord therfore in thy pitty looke vpon me, make me strong in thee, yt am weak in my selfe, wise in thee, yt am foolish in my selfe, & holy in thee, yt am wicked in my selfe; be merciful vnto me, & helpe mee, plague thē yt seeke ye hurt of mysoule, & confound them yt seeke to drawe me from thy loue. From the loue of this worlde, from the delight of sinne, and from the assaults of the diuell, good Lord deliuer mee: from presumptuous sinnes, and despaire of thy mercy, sweete Iesu preserue mee. Hate me not for my sinnes, but pittie mee for thy selfe; oh saue me, for I am thy seruant: beholde the sorrowes of my soule, I haue roared for the very disquiet of my heart; oh blesse mee with the peace of thy holie spirite, that I may sing to the glory of thy mercy.

Amen.

O Blessed God, father of all power, mercy, & comfort, whose graces are infinite, and whose glory is vnspeakeable: O God of all goodnesse, who canst not be but good, whose goodnesse is almighty, & whose power is ful of mercy: sweet Lord that seest the misery of man, without the comfort of thy grace, the weakenes of man, without ye assistance of thy holy spirit, and the sorrowe of man, without the ioy of thy loue, let not the burthen of sinne, lie so heauie vpon the wounded conscience of thy wretched creature, that harty praiers may obtain no hearing, true repentance may gaine no comfort, nor bitter teares moue any compassion; let not the wicked fiend so haūt ye soule of a sinner, yt he haue no thought of thy grace: let not the cares of this world, ye feare of death, the sorrow of sinne, nor the suggestion of the diuell driue him into despaire of thy mercy: looke on him whome thou hast made, hear him whom thou hast called, and saue him whom thou hast redeemed, heale the heart that is wounded, and comforte the soule that is full of sorrowe; in thy power fight for mee against the enemy that doth assault my soule, in thy goodnesse cure me of theill wherwith he hath infected mee, and in thy mercie defende mee from the temptations, wherewith hee seeketh to destroy mee. Thou art my life, oh let mee liue in thee: thou art my loue, let me neuer be from thee: thou art my Lord, let me liue but to thee: thou art my God, oh let mee euer be with thee: I haue sinned, and woe is mee, but I am sory, & well is mee: for in the sorrowe of my sinne, is my hope of thy mercie, and in the hope of thy mercie, is the ioy of my soule. Thou biddest mee repent, and I shall haue mercie, aske, and I shall haue, knocke, and it shall be opened vnto mee: O my deare God, with the deepe sighes of vnfained sorrowe, and the true teares of my hearts repentance, haue I knocked at the gates of thy gratious mercie, begging an almes from ye hand of thy blessed bountie, one crumme of comfort from the table of thy mercie, one looke of pittie from the eye of thy loue, one droppe of thy bloode to cleanse mee from my sinnes, one droppe of thy grace to feede the lampe of my loue, and one looke of thy loue to make me liue for euer. Sweete Iesu seeme not deafe to me, who hearest all that cry vnto thee, but open the gates of thy mercie, and let in the soule of thy vnworthy seruant: that being rauished with the ioy of thy presēcc, I may sing aloude, to thy glory.

Amen.

O Most mercifull God, the fountaine of all goodnesse, and glorie of mercie, who seest ye ioyes of the soule, that is touched wt the finger of thy loue, and knowest the sorrowes of the heart, that languisheth in the griefe of thy displeasure: I humbly beseech thee haue mercy vpon the afflicted spirite of thy poore vnworthy creature: who sometime is rauished with the admiration of thy goodnesse, but no sooner falleth from the hande of thy mercie, but is readie through the illusion of sinne, to drowne in the sea of iniquitie; where, how deepe are the sorrowes of the repentant, let thy seruant Peter be a witnesse. But, what is a plant, that hath no earth to growe in? What is a fish that hath no water to swimme in? what is the heart that hath no loue to liue in? and what is the soule, that hath not thy spirite to ioy in? Oh, when thy seruant Peter was rauished, in the sweetenesse of his ioy, he forgat ye greatnesse of thy goodnesse when presuming of his owne power, he remembred not the gift of thy grace: who then saide, hee would die for thy loue, but shortly after denyed thee, & thy loue: in the feeling time of thy loue, death was sweete to his imagination, but in ye withdrawing time of thy mercy, life was sweet to his corruption; in ye ioyfull time of thy loue, hee was like a plant yt florished by the river side, who, in the groūd of thy grace did prosper wt the deaw of thy mercy: but no sooner fell from the blessing of thy holy spirit but he was like a blasted stock, yt loosing his sap was ready to be cut down, & cast into ye ster: but sweete Lord, thou didst tel him his folly, & correct him for his fault: thou shewedst him his weak nesse, and thou gauest him strēgth, he loued thee, & thou knewst it; yet he forgot thee and thou sawest it; but how sweetly didst thou deale wt him? Thou didst loue him euer, & didst leaue him but for a while. Thou keptst sap in ye roote, that made the tree to flourish, and to bringe forth much fruite: yea to him, who had thrust himselfe out of Paradise, thou gauest the keies of heauen gates. Howe greate then is thy goodnesse? that forgiuing offences, wilt ioy the hearte with such gladnesse. Sweete Christ, thou sawest his sorrow with his sinne, and setting the one against the other, diddest cure him of both; his words were heinous in denying of thee: but his teares were bitter that hee shedde for thee: when thy hande of mercie wiping away yt one, would not let thee looke on the other: Such was thy regarde of his loue, as put his sinnes out of thy remembrance. O sweete Iesu, is thy mercie closed vp into so narrowe a compasse, that only Peter hath the benefit of thy blessing? No, my dear loue, I know thou art almighty, all good, & all glo rious: thy mercie is ouer all thy workes and I am one of them whom thou hast made: thou camest to call sinners to repentance, and with confession of mine vnrighteousnesse, I cry vnto thee for mercy: thine eares are open vnto all, and therefore I know thou wilt heare me, thine eyes beholde all things, & therefore I know, with my sins my sorrowes are not hid from thee: thou art good to all that trust in thee, and therefore my hope is onely in thee: but where Peter denied thee once, I haue denyed thee too often, & where he repēted in tears, I haue continued in sins, he therfore obtained mercy, & I haue deserued punishmēt: but yet at what time soeuer a sinner repēteth him of his from the bottom of his hart, thou hast promised, sweete Lord, that thou wilt put all his wickednesse out of thy remembrance: thy promise is trueth, & thy truthe can not faile, and therefore in the faith of thy trueth, wt the teares of sorrowe I fly to the comfort of thy mercy: I dare not boast of my loue, my soule hath beene so blotted with iniquitie; but cry in the sorrowe of my sinne, O lord thinke vpon mee in thy mercie, and though I be not Peter, yet be thou Christ. I come not to him to be let in at thy gates, but cry vnto thee for the comfort of thy mercie, most humbly beseeching thee, to forgiue me my wickednesse, and to inspire mee with thy goodnesse; that if I slide, yet I may not greatly fall, but in the feeling of thy mercie, I may lay downe my life in thy loue, and in the comfort of such grace, giue thee wholly ye glory: let no cocke crowe at my deniall of thee, but the Angels reioyce at my confession of thee: yea let my soule be so rauished with the loue of thee, that I may ioy in nothinge but thee, and in the ioyfull ioy of my soule, sing to thee, the onely true, due, and eternall Halleluiah.

Amen.

BLessed Lord, and Lord of al blessednesse, father of all mercy, and God of all goodnesse, who out of the aboundance of thy heauenly store, dost enrich the soules of thy belooued seruantes, and sufferest none to perish, that put their trust in thy mercie, looke I humbly beseech thee, vpon the miserable neede of my distressed soule, which pining thoroughe the wante of thy grace, cryeth vnto the glorie of thy pitty; Merciful Lord, be mercifull vnto me, the sorrowes of my hart are enlarged, oh bring thou me out of my troubles: many are the sorrowes, that I endure, but most in the cold feeling of thy comfort; for, when I faine would seeke after thee, the cares of this worlde, the corruption of the flesh, and the illusions of the diuell are readie to drawe mee from thee: in thy word I haue beene vnfaithfull, for thy blessings vnthankefull, and if thy seruice vndutifull: if thou correct me, I am vnpatient, if thou forbeare me, I am vngratious, and in thou entreate mee, I am vnkinde. Thus euery way, wo is me, I am so full of iniqnitie, that goodnesse hath almost no place in me: sinne hath taken such holde vpon mee, that despaire hath almost possest mee; but yet sweete Lord, if thou but touch ye heart, al the bodie wil haue health, and if it please thee to comfort the soule, how can the heart be agrieued O deare God, at thy rebuke the windes were downe, the waues were calme, the ship was safe, and thy disciples were ioyfull: at the touch of thy finger, the blinde receiued their sight, and at the sounde of thy voice, a legion of diuels ranne away. O Lord, all power is in thy will, and all glorie is in thy mercie: in thy glorious mercie therefore I humbly beseech thee looke vpon me, deliuer me from ye troubles that in the depth of sorrow seeke the drowning of my soule, touch the eyes of my heart with the finger of thy mercie, that beholding the glorie of thy goodnesse, it may humble it selfe to thy seruice, and driue from mee all those wicked Spirites, that doe hourely torment mee with temptations: O Lord thou knowest my heart, & hast seene my soule in aduersities: thou hast euer been my comfort in my troubles; oh leaue mee not to the will of mine aduersaries. O deare God, thou hast created mee for thy selfe, and wilt thou not knowe mee in thy selfe Thou hast redeemed me by thy selfe, and wilt thou put mee from thy selfe? yea thou hast comforted me with thy selfe, and wilt thou not take mee to thy selfe? yes, my sweete Lord, though sinne hath woūded mee, thy mercie can heale mee, and thy word doth assure mee, that thou wilt haue mercie vpon mee thy blood is not so dry, but thou hast one droppe for my comfort. Thou art the good sheepeheard that wilt loose none of thy flocke, and thou art alwaies with mee, for thy right hand doth vphold me: great are my troubles, but thou canst deliuer me out of al: yea in the midst of my calamities, thy rod and thy staffe doe comfort mee: Sweete Lord, therefore beholde my confession, and accept my submission, forgiue mee my sinnes, and comfort mee with thy graces, strengthen my faith, and blesse my beliefe in thee: humble my soule in thy mercie, and let mee not bee vndutifull in thy seruice: make me thankefull in the labour of my loue, vnto the mercie of thy holie Maiestie; giue mee patience in thy correction, repentance in thy forbearāce, and true ioy but in thy loue: so being wholly wrought vnto thee, longing euer for thee, and ioying onely in thee, I may most ioyfully sing with thy seruant Dauid; The Lord is the portion of mine inheritance. Goe the worlde to whom̄e it will, my soule, ioy thou onely in the Lord, knowing that hee hath giuen himselfe to the crosse for thy comfort: him onely loue, him onely serue, and to him onely giue all glory, worlde without end.

Amen.

BE mercifull vnto mee, O God, be merciful vnto me, for man goeth about to deuoure me, he is dailie fighting, and troubling me: so many are the occasions of euill that drawe mee from thee, that I knowe not almost how to come to thee: yet sweete Lord, though I am fearefull of thy displeasure, I despaire not of thy mercie; for though thou awest thy children, yet dost thou not terrifie thy seruants, & whom once thou hast chosen, they can neuer be forsaken: for thou art the comfort of the afflicted, and the ioy of thy sorrowfull: and therefore in the sorrowe of my soule doe I flie onelie to thee to thy mercy, for my cōfort: thou cleansest their eyes, yt wold, & cānot see thee, thou openest their ears, yt would & can not heare thee: yea, thou strēgthenest their faith yt cō fes their vnbelief vnto thee O lord therfore of thy goodnesse, cleare my blindnes, yt haue wandred awry from ye way of thy holy will, heale me of my deafenesse, yt haue too long harkened vnto the follies of ye world, & strengthen my beliefe, that hath bin too weake in thy holy word: so shall mine eies be euer looking towards thee, mine eares shal be delighted with ye hearing of thy voice, and my soule shal reioyce in the faith of thy mercie: yea my hart shall loue thee, and my lips shal praise thee: hear me therefore sweet Lord & helpe me, haue mercy vpon mee, & bring me out of my troubles, that in the rest of thy mercy, I may sing to thy glory.

Amen.

MY God, my God, looke vpon mee take not vengeance of my sins, but spare mee whom thou hast redremed with thy most pretious bloode, and be not angry wt mee for euer: so many are ye sorrowes that compasse mee in on euery side, as without the greater feeling of thy mercy, wil confound ye hope of my comfort. O sweete Lord, I goe mourning all the day long, and all with feare of thy displeasure, which I confesse I haue deserued, & therfore am iustly punished; but sweete father haue mercie vpon mee, beholde the teares of true repentance, that in the bitternesse of vnfained sorrow, in the humilitie of my soule, cry vnto thy blessed patience for one droppe of thy pittie: louing father, looke vpon mee, and stroake mee with the hand of thy cōfort, whom thou hast stricken, with the rodd of thy correction: chide but be not angry, let not thy wrath burne like fire, that art so glorious in thy mercie: turne thy face from my sinnes, and blot out all mine iniquities out of thy remembrance, out of the hel of my miseries, take mee to the heauen of thy mercies: let mee feele thy louing kindnesse in the morning, that I may sing all day of thy goodnesse: woe is mee that euer I swarued from thee, and well onely were it with me, if I could euer be with thee: O God of all perfection haue patience with my corruption, O Lord of all goodnesse forgiue mee my wickednesse, and O king of all glorie, comfort me with one crūme of thy mercie: thou hast created mee in thy power, redeemed mee in thy loue, and in thy holy spirite sanctified mee; and wilt thou now forsake mee, that hast done all this good for mee No, sweety Lord, thou art wise, and knowest what is meete for me; though I knowe not what is good for my selfe; but, sweete Lord, I humbly beseech thee, helpe mine ignorance, and make mee to knowe what is conuenient for mee, in thy holy will, yt thou chastenest, whom thou louest, and therefore I may take comfort in thy correction: that scourges are but trials of thy loue, where patience is a blessing of thy mercie; while faith is neuer destitute of comfort, that is laid vp for euer in thy loue: thus deare Lord I humbly beseech thee to deale with thy vnworthy seruant, that if I be plagued with Iob, I may haue patience wt Iob, if I haue Paules troubles, I may haue Pauls faith, and Pauls loue: so in the feeling of my ioyes wil my sorrows be forgotten, and in the ioy of thy loue shall I reioyce for euermore: but, my deare Lord, Iob was a iust man, and feared to offend thee, & I am a wicked wretch that haue not feared to displease thee: Paul was faithful thorough thy grace, and I am fearefull through my sinne, and therefore their troubles turned to their ioyes, while my punishments are continuall torments: yet sweete Lord Iesu, I can not so forget thee, but I must needes come to thee; and though ashamed to come before thee, yet behinde thee, to touch ye hemme of thy garment: I haue beene vnfaithfull, oh helpe my vnbeliefe, and in the sweetenesse of thy mercie, shewe the greatnesse of thy glorie: thou sauedst Peter frō drowning in the sea, oh saue me from sinking into sinne, thou sauedst Daniel in the Lyons denne, oh saue mee from the mouthes of my Lyonishe enemies, thou tookest Ionas out of the Whales belly, oh take mee out of the whale of this hellish world: thou sauest all that trust in thee, oh saue mee that trust onely but in thee: in thee sweete Lord, the onely life of my loue, & whole ioy of my heart heare me therfore, I beseech thee, and in thy mercie helpe me among the number of thy elected, let mee be one of thy belooued, that in the traine of thine Aungels, though ye least in thy kingdome, yet in the ioy of my soule I may sing to thy glorie.

Amen.

ETernall power of eternall peace, holy, and almightie glorie of incomprehensible Maiesty, most mercifull and only good God, who hast made all thinges by thy power, by thy mercie preseruest them, and by thy wisdome dost gouern them, sweete Lord, deare life liuing loue, who hast created all thinges for man, and man only for thy seruice; who lettest nothing be idle that may worke to thy glory, and art thyselfe euer in working to the only glorie of thy goodnesse, who causest the windes to blowe, the clowdes to raine, and ye earth to giue her increase, and all for the seruice of man, and him only, aboue all creatures thou hast blessed with reason to iudge betwixt good and euill, and hauing gouernment ouer all things on earth, to be gouerned only by thy most gratious goodnesse; sweete Lord, that seest the very senselesse creatures all in their natures, holde the due of their obedience, in their seruice to thy glorie, onely man, to whom the mercie of thy holie Maiystie, hath giuen a spirit of higher blessing, wherwith to glorify thy holy goodnesse, and for that thou hast done for him, askest nothing, but to acknowledge thy bounty, and to giue thankes to thy glory yet seest how this creature of thy loue, framed nearest to thine owne image, in forgetfulnesse of thy grace, is become vnthankfull to thy glorie, giues ear to illusiōs breaks thy commaundement, and runnes headlong to destruction, without the greater holde of thy mercie, yet in that thou hatest nothing yt thou hast made, delightest not in the death of a sinner, but art glorious in thy mercy, sweete Iesu, suffer not Sathan, nor any wicked spirit, so to gouerne in the worlde, as to drawe thy people from thee: but blesse them with thy holy spirite, that they may knowe thee for 〈1 paragraph〉 and all the creatures therein power to giue their encrease, yea and themselues to the seruice of man, giue him power in the humilitie of his soule, and thankfulnesse of heart, to giue thy gratious Maiesty, some fruits of thy blessing, yea & wt all that he hath to giue himselfe wholly to thy ser 〈1 paragraph〉 who was made only by thee and for thee. Let him not liue in corruption, that was framed in perfection; thou art his GOD, and hee is thy creature, thou art his father, make him thy childe, thou art his Lord, keepe him thy seruant, thou art his euer life, oh let him not die for euer: no creature on earth, that liueth only to it selfe, but all to thy glorie, and shall onely man liue onely to himselfe, and so be vnthankfull to thy goodnesse? sweete Lord forbid, hatefull be that nature of iniquitie, that draweth man out of Paradise, and throweth him headlōg into hell, fie on that accursed fiend, that so be witcheth the soule with the delight of sin, and wo be to vnhappy man that so forgetteth ye godnes of his God: but yet sweete Iesu, my Lord, my master my father, my king, and my God, looke I humbly beseech thee, vpon thy wretched creature, thy vnworthy seruant, thy vngodlie childe, and thy rebellious subiect: in thy mercy looke vpon mee, looke vpon myrepentance, not my rebellions; my sorrowes, not my sinnes; my teares, not mine iniquities: heale my woūds, for they are corrupted, and wash me cleane, for I am fowly infected: keeps mee from the in chaunting charmes of all wicked spirites, and in the wisdome of thy holy spirite, deliuer mee from the illusions of the wicked fiende: make sinne hatefull vnto my soule, and in the wisdome of thy grace, make the whole ioy of my life: oh let mee loue thee aboue my selfe, aud hate my selfe, but in thy loue: let mee not see the labour of all thinges, and thy labour in all thinges, and my selfe idlely doe nothing, that may glorifie thy goodnesse: the earth giues mee of her fruite, and shall I giue thee no fruite? thou hast in heauen a place for mee, and shall I not seeke the way to thee? O my deare GOD haue mercie vvpon mee, better had I neuer beene borne, then to liue to be borne away frō thee. What is the whole world to mee, if I loose mine owne soule? & in what case is my soule, if I want the blessing of thy grace? haue mercy therefore vpon mee, I beseech thee, and preserue my soule, for I am thy seruant: make mee to labour in the vertuous vineyard of thy holy will , and by the inspiration of thy holy spirit, bring forth of my heart the humble fruites of thy holy loue; that in profiting my neighbour, in the blessing of thy grace, I may glorifie thy holy Maiesty, and in the ioy of my soule in the peace of thy mercie, I may sing to thy glory.

Amen.

O Glorious God of all power and pittie, to whose onely mercie belongeth the title of eternal Maiesty, who by the wisdome of thine owne will hast framed all things to thy seruice, and workest in them all to the glorie of thine only worthinesse, O deare GOD, that art the true substance of comfort, to the humble soules of thy beloued, and seest the sorrowes of thy humble seruautes, when thou withdrawest thy hande of thy mercie; in the glorious goodnesse of thy grace, I beseech thee, thinke on the number of thy afflicted creatures, amonge whome, most needefull, though most vnworthie thy mercie, let this poore wretched, wounded, and afflicted soule of mine begge one beame of thy blessed pittie, to reuiue this dolefull, and halfe deade heart of my almost despairing spirite; oh strengthen my faith in thy holie worde, washe mee cleane from my sinnes, and make mee to feele the ioye of thy mercie: let thy worde bee a Lanthorne to my feete, and a lighte vnto my pathes, and teach mee the way that I shall walke in, for I betake my selfe wholly vnto thee: let mee say with thy seruant Dauid, O thar my waies were made so direct, that I might not offend my God. O deare Lord, great was his happinesse in thy grace, that had such a feeling of thy blessing, to haue such a loathing to the worlde, for thy loue: blessed, and ten times blessed were my soule, had it such a feeling of thy grace: but I may rather cry, woe is mee that euer I was borne, to liue so long in the sinke of so much sinne, that looking on the filth of my soule, I am ashamed to looke vp toward thy mercy: yet when againe I remember the Leapers that thou hast cleansed, the sins that thou hast pardoned, and the soules that thou hast comforted, I can say to my selfe, oh my soule, why art thou so disquieted within mee? knowing the goodnesse of thy God: and then in the teares of true repentance on the knees of my hearte, in the humilitie of my soule cry vnto thee: O deare God, remember not the sinnes of my youth, forgiue mee all my offences, cleanse mee from my iniquities, & take me againe vnto thy grace: O Lord, let me feele a little of yt louing kindnesse, wherwith thou dost glad the heart of thy beloued, let me think wt thy seruant Paul, yt all the treasure of this world is but trash, compared to the rich iewell of thy loue: O sweete Christ, so comfort me wt thy selfe, yt in the gladnesse of thy goodnesse, I may sing with thy seruant Simeon, whē he had the in his arms: Lord, now lettest thou thy seruant depart in peace, according to thy word, for mine eyes haue seen thy saluation. Blessed were his eyes yt so liued to beholde thee, and blessed were my soule, if it could so liue to embrace thee: but my deare GOD, since the corruption of sinne will not suffer mee in this world to beholde thee, I humbly beseech thee, mortifie the delight of sinne in mee, that it may haue no power to drawe mee from thee, that when I haue finished the daies of the imprisonment of my soule in this darkesome caue of this my wretched carkas being freed from the hell of sinne, by the merit of thy mercie, in the libertie of my loue, I may see the ioy of my soule, and in the ioy of thy gratious goodnesse, I may sing, to thy glorious maiestie, the only endlesse Halleluiah.

Amen.

O Glorious God, who from ye heauēly throne of thy holy mercie, beholdest all the dwellers vpon ye earth, and seest the essence of euery substance, which no shadowe can hide from thy sight, O God of al true wisdome and goodnesse, who seest the very hearts of all creatures, and knowest the thoughts of all ye world, yea before the worlde was, in the aboūdāce of thy mercie, cast one look of thy gratious eye, vpon the sorowfull soule of thy vnworthie seruant: vnworthie I confesse my selfe to appeare before thy presence, so hideous is the horrour of my sinne in thy sight: yet when I knowe, that from corruption thou canst looke for no perfection, and that mercie in iustice sheweth the glorie of thy goodnesse, I had rather say with thy seruant Dauid, If my sinnes were as red as scarlet, thou canst make me as white as snow, then to cry out with Cain, my sins are greater thē I can bear: O my dear Lord thou hast called al vnto thee that are laden, & thou wilt ease them: and to thee I come so laden with sinne in my soule, that I can scarce looke vp to thy mercie: hear mee therefore I humbly beseech thee, and in the greatnesse of thy mercie, ease me of this heauie burthen of my sinne: O Lord, I confesse to thee, I was conceiued, and borne in sinne, and in transgressions of thy commandemēts, haue I wasted the weary daies of my life: yet, sweete Lord, when I knowe, thy wisdome beholdeth the weakenesse of my corruption, and thy mercie considereth the sorrowe of my repentance, I am emboldened in thy worde to come vnto thee, and on the knees of my heart to cry vnto thee; O Lord haue mercie vpon mee, beholde the worke of thine own hands, lose not whome thou hast redeemed, regenerate whom thou seest corrupted, heale him whome sinne hath wounded, and performe the grace that thou hast promised; that being cured of sinne, and with thy grace comforted in the loue of my hart, & ioy of my soule, I may sing to thy glorie, the eternall Halleluiah.

Amen.
THe lord he is my sheepheard, that doth feede My soule full sweetely by the riuer side, And will not let mee nibble on a weede, Where hee doth knowe there may my hurt abide. He will not let the Wolfe come neere the folde, Where he hath laide His louing flocke to rest, Nor will hee let them bide the bitter colde, But sweetly warmes them from his sunny breast. Along the pastures faire, and fresh, and greene, He leades them forth, for their best liues behoue, Nor euer yet was there confusion seen Of any flocke, that hee doth fairely loue. Hee doth not robbe them of a locke of wooll, But kindely calles them to their fairest folde, Nor doth he vse the cunning how to cull The fat from leane, nor yoūg ones frō the old But all alike hee loues whom he doth keepe, And if that any stray out of the plaine, Vpon his shoulders hee brings home that sheep, And sings for ioy to haue his lambe againe. The winters worme, nor yet the summers flie Can once anoy the smallest lambe of his: But they shall still encrease, and neuer die, But euer liue in euerlasting blisse. He giues them water from the liuing rocke, Where neuer yet did harmefull thought arriue: Yea hee so dearely lou'd his little flocke, That hee did die, to saue his sheepe aliue. But shall (oh Lord) this sinfull soule of mine, So many waies with miseries opprest, Become a lambe of that faire flocke of thine, And feede with them when they are fairely blest? Then, when I heare my louing sheepeheard call, My faithfull soule vnto her fairest folde, I will forsake these worldly pleasures all, And only ioy my Iesus to beholde. FINIS.
THe foole hath saide within his heart, Hee thinks there is no God. But hee shall finde for his desart, The Lord his heauie rodde. For when the Lord beginnes to frowne, But with an angry eye, Then Sathans power shall all goe downe, And all his dogges shall die. And then the reprobate shall finde There is a God indeede, Who at his pleasure with a winde, Can shake thē like a reede. And by the rootes can teare them vp, And fling thē down again, And make them taste the fiery cuppe Of euerlasting paine. For though a while God lets them liue, And in their brauery bide, Yet in the end his hand will giue A plague to all their pride: Till when he lets them walke the path Their wickednesse hath trod, Vntill, by feeling of his wrath, They know there is a God. And then too late they howle and cry, And gnash their teeth for grief And euer liue, and euer die, And neuer haue reliefe, When they shall see before their face The ougly shapes of sinne, That on the earth in euery place, They tooke their pleasurs in: Where euery diuell shall haue power The damned to disease, And not a minute of an hower Shall giue thē hope of ease. While in the heauens the chosen folke, Without althought of strife, Shall sit aboue the mountaine rocke Of euerlasting life. And virgins, with the Angels sweete, Shall sit, and play, and sing: And mercie, grace, and truthe shall meete To glorifie their king. And my poore soule, that hath no ioy, But in my liuing Lord, Shall ioy to see my God destroy The scorners of his word.
O that my heart coulde hit vpon a straine, Would strike the musick of my soules desire: Or that my soule could find that sacred vaine That sets the consort of the Angels quire. Or that that spirit or especiall grace, That cannot stoupe beneath the state of heauē Within my soule wold take his settled place, With Angels ens, to make his glory euen. Then should the name of my most gratious king, And glorious god, in higher tunes be sounded Of heauenlie praise, then earth hath power to sing: Where earth and heauen and Aungels are confoūded, And soules may sing while al hearts strings are broken. His praise is more thē can in praise be spokē.
IF I could set downe twenty thousand waies, And twentie thousand thousand, thousand moe, To penne his highest heauenly comforts praise, That will not see my spirits ouerthowe: If I could thinke of nothing els but glory, And in the highest, highest, highest height, To shewe the state of that celestiall story, Where Aungels wonders in their honours waite: If all the powers of heauen & earth would meete, And all acknowledge all their powers too little, To shew the smallest of his smallest sweete, Yet, to his title, All were but a title Then since no thoughts can to his praise be raised, Aboue all praises Let my God be praised: While the Aungels all are singing, All of glory euer springing, In the grounde of high heauens graces, Where all vertues haue their places, Oh that my poore heart were neare them, With an humble soule to heare them. Then should faith in loues submission, Ioying but in mercie: blessing, Where that sinnes are in remission, Sing the ioyfull soules confessing Of her comforts high commending, All in glory neuer ending, But ah wretched, sinfull creature, How should the corrupted nature Of this wicked heart of mine Thinke vpon that loue diuine, That doth tune the Aungels voice, While the hoastes of heauen reioyce! No, the songe of deadly sorrowe, In the night, that hath no morrowe, And their paines (not eas'd, not ended) That haue heauenly powers offended, Are more fitting to the merit Of my foule infected spirit. Yet, while mercie is remoouing All the sorrowes of the louing, How can faith be full of blindenesse, To despaire of mercies kindnesse, While the hande of heauen is giuing Comfort, from the euerliuing? No, my soule be no more sory, Looke vnto that life of glory Which the grace of faith regardeth, And the teares of loue rewardeth: Where the soule the comfort getteth That the Aungels musicke setteth. There, when thou art well conducted, And by heauenly grace instructed, How the faithfull thoughts to fashion Of a rauisht louers passion, Sing with Saints, to Aungels nighest, Halleluiah, in the highest.
OH that my heart could neuer cease to sing The holy praises of my heauenly king: And that my minde could think vpon no blisse, But of the grace wherein his glory is. And that my tongue could talke of nothing else, But of the wonders of his worthinesse: And that mine eye could see but where hee dwels, Who is the height of vertues holinesse, And that my tongue could like no other taste, But of his flesh that is the spirits foode: And that my soule might sweare a solemne fast For one pure droppe of his deare pretious blood. That at my song the Aungels might reioyce, To heare the musicke of a sinners voice.
HElpe, cryes my hearte, not frō the hellish place This wretched world nor all the wealth therein, But from the God of that high heauenly grace Whose only mercie doth all glory winne. Hee, hee alone, that sees the sinners teares Distilling from a true repentant heart, And will not let him perish in those feares, That make the waie to an infernall smart: That onely Lord, of onely life and loue, Who doth forbeare, forgiue and quite forget All those misdeeds that his displeasure moue, While sorrowes faith is fast by mercy set. Hee, hee alone, in spight of death and hel, Blesse my poore wounded soule, and all is well.
Emmanuell. COme liue with mee, and be my loue, My loue, my life, my King my God, And let mee now thy mercy prooue, That long haue felt thy heauie rodde. Thy heauie rodde, ah woe is me, A rodde of rushes, tis no more, Who highly for offending thee, Might haue beene shutte from mercies dore. But thou art hee, whose glorious eye Beholdes the sorrow, not the sinne Of him who doth for mercie cry While teares of faith doe fauour winne. Thou dost not wish a sinners death. To liue, and loue is thy delight: While in the blessing of thy breath, Is euer day, and neuer night. Oh thou more faire then fairenesse is, More sweete, then sweetenesse can be thought, More kinde then louers, when they kisse, That with thy death, thy loue hast bought. Oh truth of trueth, and yet more true, Then time can try, or tongue can tell, Whose grace and glorie still renewe In heauenly praise, in spight of hell. Oh power of powers, aboue all power, Oh constant faith for euer fast: Oh onely sweete without all sower, Oh endlesse ioyes that eue last. In thee my loue, and but in thee, Doe euer spring, that euer were, And at thine only pleasure, bee To bee disposed euery where. Oh, thou that werte, before what was, In essence of all excellence, And in thy wisdome dost surpasse The reach of knowledge quintessence Who all of nothing didst create, But by thy worde, and to thy will: And so didst order euery state, As shewes thy high supernall skill: Who, hauing all thinges set in frame, Didst shewe what loue to man thou hadst, To giue him power each thing to name, And make him Lord of all thou mad'st. And more then that, to shewe thy loue, Thou mad'st him like vnto thy selfe: Till Iack an Apes of hell did prooue To make a Monkie breede an elf. Oh God, had that sweete grace of thine, In Adam, neuer beene abused, Our nature then, in him diuine, The diuels apple had refused. But ease begat such idlenesse, And idle ease such wantonnesse, And wantonnesse such wickednesse, As wrought in him our wretchednesse. Hee did forget thy goodnesse first, Wee follow him, and fly from thee: Hee for his folly was accurst, And so (in iustice) Lord are wee. But hee with shame beheld his sinne, And flewe to mercie for reliefe: Whose woefull state all wee are in, That to thy mercie shewe our griefe. Hee stucke vnto rocke of strength, That after labour gaue him ease: And wee in loue doe hope at length That sorrowes teares will wrath appease. Oh God, thou knowest that only knowest What knowledge is, and what to knowe, And by thy mercie onely showest, What only pleaseth the to showe, That as of dust, wee came at furst, Vnto the dust we shall againe: The belly of the world shall burst, When sinne, and sorrow shall be slaine. A time will be when that all time Shall see his longest thread will breake: When gratious loue, in praises prime, Shall only of thy glory speake: When graues shall ope and bodies rise, And hell shall shake, and fiendes shall roare, And soules ascende vnto the skies, To sing thy glory euermore. And oh, that that sweete time were come, That Saints and Aungels might accord, While earth and hell are striken dumbe, To sing thine onely glory, Lord. For here, alas, While here wee liue, Or rather die by hurt of sinne, The pleasures that The world doth giue, Doe but the way to hell beginne: Where, by abundance growes excesse, And so forgetfulnesse of grace, Or else by want, so great distresse, As brings the soule in desperate case. Which, while the heart tormented stands, In helpelesse cares calamitie, Helde all too harde in sorrowes hands, Doth long to be at libertie: That by the blessing of thy grace, Deliuered from this earthly hell, It may beholde thy blessed face: Where all contentments euer dwell. For truely loue in only thee, Doth liue all comfort, ioy and blisse, And where thou art not, what can bee, But shewes what shame and sorrowe is? And since in thee, doth only liue The ground of the eternall good, And thou alone canst only giue The faithfull soule her heauenly foode: Vouchsafe me leaue to thee to cry, Oh let my teares thy mercie moue, Who for thy loue, would gladly die: Come liue with mee, and be my loue. But I am vile, and foule, and blacke, Vnworthy obiect for thine eyes, Yea worthy to be beaten backe, Euen from the blessing of the skies. But thou canst make mee white as snowe, By one pure droppe of thy deare sonne: And being purified so, Thou wilt forget what I haue done. Had I a heauen to entertaine Thy holy presence, it were thine: But thou a king, and I a swaine, Take pittie on this loue of mine. Thy greatnesse was in goodnesse such, As did the poorest loue embrace: And is not thy worde true in tutch, That humble loue gets heauenly grace Wherefore on knees of humble heart, Let mee thy gratious mercie moue, Put all my sinfull shame apart, And liue with mee and be my loue. For thou art wise, though I am fond, And thou canst make mee wise in thee, And thou art free, though I am bond, And thou alone canst make me free. Thou art all good, and I so ill, I know not how to come to thee: But worke mee wholly to thy will, Then be my loue, and liue with mee
IN sorrowes deepe, my spirit all appalde, Seing the worlde, an only sinke of sinne, Vnto the Lord of heauen for mercy cald, And in her teares, did thus her suit beginne: If euer, Lord, a poore repentant wretch, Whose bleeding heart can hardly speake for grief, But from his soule those sobbing sighes doth fetch, That may in silence, sue for thy reliefe. My gratious Lord and euerlasting God, In pittie looke a little on my paine, Beholde my faith, forbe are thy heauie rodde, And let thy mercie heale my soule againe. I must confesse I haue offended sore That gratious will, and glorious loue of thine, I see my sinnes are euermore before This wretched soule, and wicked eyes of mine. Nor day nor night my spirit taketh rest, For feare of thy too much deseru'd displeasure: Such bitter sorrowes boyle within my breast, As prooue my torments haue no little measure. But Lord that seest, how I am wo begon me, The deadly hurt, wherin my hart doth dwel, In thy sweete mercy once but looke vpon mee: Say but thou art my helpe and I am well.
WHen that I felt my soule with sorrow sokē, My wofull minde with miseries opprest, My pining heart with bitter passions broken, And euery way my spirit all distressed, Vpon my knees vnto my God I went, And in my teares I told him of my griefe, And with a heart almost in peeces rent, Repentance sued to pittie for reliefe: When to his eares, my praiers did ascende And from his holy hill his mercie heard me, And to my soule such comfort did descend That I did see, that mercy did regard mee, For I did finde how hope bad feare depart: My heartie sorrowe had obtained grace, And I did feele such comfort in my heart, That sodaine ioy, was set in sorrowes place. When, God he knowes, that with no little ioy My soule was rauisht with his sacred loue, That bad my heart abandon all annoy, I should in heauen a sweter comfort proue. Oh God, sweete God, more sweet then can be thought, When hope is least, that giues thy comfort most, Whose mercie hath so with thy iustice wrought, As will not see thy faithfull seruants lost: Among thy Saintes, and Angels that does it, About thy throne to glorifie thy name, Vouchsafe me grace to say Amen to it, Although vnworthy once to heare the same.
FINIS.