THE Soules immortall crowne con­sisting of seauen glorious graces.

1. Vertue. 2. Wisedome. 3. Loue. 4. Constancie. 5. Patience. 6. Hu­militie. 7. Infinitenes.


AND Dedicated to the Kings most excellent Maiestie.

AT LONDON Printed by H. Lownes, and are to be sold by I. C. and F. B. 1605.

TO THE HIGH and mightie Prince, IAMES by the grace of God, King of great Brittaine, France and Ireland, defendour of the faith, &c.

TO whom shall I dedicate the praise of Vertue, but to him whō Vertue praiseth, which in your Maiestie being made good, to the eies of those vnderstanding spirits, that can iudge of the heauenly notes of heroi­call natures (I hope) hauing Truth for my warrant, to escape the scandall of fawning Eloquence: vouchsafe there­fore my gratious Soueraigne, in this plaine Poem, to peruse the labour of my hearts loue, which with the seruice of true loyaltie, I humbly lay at the feet of your Royall Maiestie, beseeching the vertue of all grace, & grace of all vertue, so to blesse you with his infi­nite [Page] blessings, that as vertue vnder hea­uē putteth her praise vnder your Patro­nage, so the Patrone of all vertue will so Royallize your praise in the Hea­uens, that to your gratious Crowne on earth, you may receiue a Crowne of Eternall glory.

Your Maiesties most humble and loyall in all seruice, BER N. Gent.

To the Reader.

YOu that haue a heart to lift your eies aboue your head, and haue not buried your soule in the sinke of sinne, take a little time to reade ouer this little Tract, where if ver­tue may inuite you, wisedome may woe you, loue may draw you, constancie may content you, pati­ence may perswade you, or humility may entreate you, you shall not passe without your paiment, and make a profit of your expence: the villaine can­not taste it, the foole vnderstand it, the hatefull not loue it, nor the inconstant commend it, the impatient endure it, nor the proud regard it: but I hope the best will alow it, and to thē I only leaue it, who can best iudge of it, will iudiciously peruse it, and accordingly esteeme it; there is no state taxed in it, no person abused by it, none that reade it, but may haue good of it, and for the good of all men I haue done it. The youthfull may learne, and the aged consider what is most necessarie for the soules comfort, the rich may finde treasure a­boue their wealth, and the poore, reliefe in their miserie: in sume, to auoid tediousnes, I hope you shall see Vertue truly honoured, Wisedome truly praised, Loue truly described, Constancie truly [Page] commended, Patience truly proued, and God in all, truly glorified: to the tuition of whose grace, in hearty praier for your happines, that you may seeke it only in his goodnes: I leaue you for this time, and for euer till I better know you.

Your friend as I finde cause, BER. N. Gent.

The Argument.

VErtue is Wisedomes light, Wisedome her loue,
And Constancie her only lifes delight:
Which Patience in Humility doth proue,
Humility the eye of Vertues sight:
I hat sees the Graces branches of the Tree,
Which figures God, in whom their Glories be.

A POEM VPON the praise of vertue. The first dayes worke.

OH my deere Muse, that neuer could'st endure
The wicked courses of a wretched minde:
Nor, euer learn'st by cunning to procure
The hatefull comforts of a hellish kinde:
But, euer hast the loue of vertue neere thee,
Speak in her praise, that all the world may heare thee.
Goe, tell the greatest Monarch (where thou goest)
She is a Queene to fit his Maiestie:
And, tell the wisest Counsellour thou knowest,
By her, his wit hath greatest dignitie:
And, tell the fairest, in her fairest grace,
Foule is her faire, except she blush her face.
Tell the Diuine, she giues a glorious light,
Vnto the truth of the eternall word:
Tell Valour, she makes but a bloody fight;
Except she guide the hand, that holds the sword:
Tell all the Artes, their studies are but idle,
Except she hold the sences in a bridle.
Tell Honour that her Title's but a tittle,
Except she build the steps of her estate▪
Tell Riches, all her Greatnes is but little,
Except she hold her Reckonings at a rate:
Tell Loue, alas, his treasure's but a toy,
Except she be the substance of the Ioy.
Goe, tell the world more then the world can tell,
All is as nought, where she's not all in all:
Tell Excellence, she neuer doth excell,
But, when her Grace doth to her Glory fall:
Tell Truth her selfe, that in her trumpe of Fame,
Her highest Note is only in her name.
Oh, were she seene within the sacred sence
Of her high fauour alwaies with the highest;
Where Angels Grace, and Graces excellence,
Keepe her deere Loue vnto themselues the nighest;
Then would the world all humbly fall before her,
And, next to God, in harts and soules adore her.
Oh, could a King but note her Queene-like Nature,
What Maiestie is in an humble minde;
How, on the earth she makes a heauenly Creature,
In being louing, patient, true, and kinde:
And, in her sweetnes, sweetly so perceiue her,
No King on earth would for his Kingdome leaue her.
And, could a Queene behold her Glorious Grace,
How her true Loue doth truly louely make her:
And what a Sunne she sets vpon her face,
That makes the Godly for a Godnesse take her:
She would so truly and so deerely loue her,
That, no conceite should from her Court remoue her.
And did the grauest wisest Counsellour,
But sound the depth of her diuine conceite,
Where perfect Truth is Reasons Paramour:
When Wisedomes care doth cut off all deceite:
While sacred Iudgement in true Iustice sits,
Her will should be the Rule of all their Wits.
And, could the neatest Courtier once behold
How comly she is with a little cost:
How farre she is from euery pleating fold,
Where, fond expences are in folly lost:
They all would leaue their Antike Loues desire,
And, take their patternes from her plaine attire.
And, did the fairest Nimph, or Noblest Maide
Behold her Beauty in her glorious Brightnes,
Pure in it selfe, vnspotted, not beraide:
Nor, idely caried with a looke of Lightnes;
They would so farre her excellence preferre,
As, all would leaue themselues to follow her.
And, did the most experienc't Officer,
But note her cariage, in her seruice care:
Where Conscience is the true examiner
Of all the thoughts, where Honours courses are:
While gracious spirits dwell in earthly Natures:
The Court would be a place of heauenly Creatures.
Did the Diuine see her Diuinitie;
And, what a spouse vnto the soule she is,
Who, with the world hath no affinitie:
But, in the heauens hath her eternall blisse.
He would his life, vnto her loue referre;
And, leaue the world, for only Loue of her.
And, did the Lawyer looke into her lawes:
Where Truth and Loue doe trie the case of life;
And wicked Craft can neuer make a clause,
To feed Ambition with the fruite of strife:
But, euery plea, in pitties conscience proue:
All Law should onely liue, but in her loue.
And, did the Souldiour, in the points of Warre,
See how she sets the honour of the fight:
How from offences, she doth keepe a farre,
Yet, in the quarrell, doth maintaine the right:
And, saues the lyues, hat doe to Mercy yeeld;
She should be high Commaunder of the field.
She is not lock't vp in the Misers Chest,
Nor, lapt vp in the lines of lewd conceite:
Her life is more in liberty faire blest,
Then, on the wills of wicked wit to waite:
No, no, it is too much against her nature:
To haue to doe with any wicked creature.
When she alone doth in her Closet sit,
Heauens open her the windowes of their light:
And Wisedomes spirit doth inspire her wit,
While holy Grace, doth guide her spirit right:
Saints teares, her Inke; her pennes of Angels wings,
While, to the Glory of her God she sings.
Her Paper is a pure, vnspotted hart,
Where thoughts are words, writ in the lines of loue:
Where Patience points at sorrowes inward smart,
While ruthfull passions doe Repentance proue:
And, Truth records, that Graces eyes may reade,
How soules are heal'd while sinfull harts doe bleede.
There, all the Angels, in their turnes attend;
To doe their seruice, in their purest sence;
While, Wit and Reason, doe their Natures bend;
Vnto the life of Loues obedience:
And gathering so all gracious thoughts together;
She weares the Garland, that can neuer wither.
There, doth she put the Poets to their pensions,
Whose Wits are worne with too much worldly study,
And cannot reach the height of heauens Inuentions:
But, plod in pooles where plashes are too muddy,
And takes a Muse for Gracious Pleasures play,
To set her Musique in a heauenly Key.
There, doth she sing, how sweet a thing it is,
To see the heauens all blessed thoughts embrace:
How Beauty sees the highest of her Blisse,
But in the feature of an Angels face:
While, Time and Truth doe in their triall proue,
There is no life but in the eternall Loue.
The fading pleasures of Affections play,
The partiall working of imperfect will:
The feeble state of fickle fancies stay,
The carelesse compasse of vnkindly skill:
The cursed humour of Inconstancie,
These hatefull humours she doth all defie.
No, where she loues, it tends but with her life,
And whē she speakes, her Iudgements shewes her wit:
And, when she writes, her Concords know no strife,
What choise conceite shall chiefe in honour sit:
But speake, and write, and looke, and like, and loue,
All haue their blessings in the heauens aboue.
She giues the King a high Supremacie,
And, to his Queene a Gracious Maiestie:
And, to his Court she giues a Decencie,
And to his State she giues an Vnitie:
And, to the Rich a superfluity,
And, to the poore a bounteous charity.
She giues the Scholler, Vnderstanding sence,
And, to the Souldiour, Resolution:
And, to the Iudge an vpright Conscience,
And the Repentant, Absolution:
The Trades-man, care, to keepe his family,
The Labourer, patience, and Humility.
She leades a King into his Cabinet,
And, shewes him there the burthen of his Crowne,
Before his eyes she doth his Kingdome set,
And to his God his duty doth set downe:
She shewes him there the fall of idle pride,
And, how his person doth in safety bide.
She shewes him there the honour of her loue,
The ground of Grace in the eternall good:
She shewes the blessing of the soules behoue,
Vpon the breeding of a Royall brood:
And, that Religion is the Rule of Grace,
That keepes the kingdome in a happy case.
She shewes him there, the benefit of peace,
The hurt of Warre, the hate of Tyrannie:
The Ioy of Loue, the happinesse encrease:
Where Wisedomes cares are Honours companie:
And, sound aduise in sacred veritie,
Maintaines a Monarch in his Maiestie.
She shewes him there, how flattery folly feedes,
While Reason sees the ruine of selfe-will;
She shewes the difference, twixt the herbs & weedes,
Wicked illusion, and discretions skill;
She shewes him all, that she thinks fit to show him,
To strength his State, that nothing ouerthrow him.
She shewes him there the sweet contentiue life
Is not still caried in varieties;
Nor faithfull Care doth feare the fatall knife,
That, is not subiect to Impieties:
But he alone, is all, and onely Blest,
Who, all in Mercy, hath his spirits Rest.
She makes him see, that he could neuer see,
But, through her sight, the brightnes of all Seeing;
She makes him be, that he could neuer be,
But, in the blessing of her blessed Being:
Thus, all in summe, she makes him see, and be:
That without her, he could nor be, nor see.
She gaines him all his Greatnes in her Grace,
His Countries loue, the honour of his Court:
She keepes him safely in his kingly place,
And, to the world she doth his fame report;
And, when frō earth Death must his Crowne disseuer,
She makes him raigne a King in heauen for euer.
She takes a Queene vnto her selfe a-side,
And, shewes her all the Glory of her Grace:
How, she alone doth make the blessed Bride,
And, how she keepes her in her highest place:
She makes the King in glorious Robes attire her,
And, all the Court, loue, honour, and admire her.
Then doth she bring her humbly on her knees,
And, sets before her the faire booke of Blisse,
Bids her there finde that she can neuer leese,
The care of life, where euery comfort is:
When lifting vp her heart with humble eie,
She sees a Beautie brighter then the skie.
There she beholds in Mercies Maiestie,
Her Sauiour sitting in a Glorious Throne:
Where, in the Essence of Eternitie,
He rules all powers in himselfe, alone:
When, seeing her thus humbly fall before him,
He blesseth her that doth so much adore him.
Then, doth she see the Angels exercise,
Who, with the Saints and Virgins fit and sing:
While humble spirits make their Sacrifice,
Vnto the Glory of their Gracious King:
While, all the Hoast of all the heauen reioyces,
To heare the Musique of the heauenly voyces.
Then, doth she set the Consort of the Quier,
Where euery Note doth keepe his Time and Tune:
The ditty only speaking of Desire,
Where, loue doth only vnto Mercy clime:
Where euery Close doth in such comfort meete,
That all the Heauens are rauisht with the sweete.
She takes the Virgine to her Morning taske,
And sets her downe a forme of faithfull praier:
But, couers not her Beauty with a Maske,
When she hath made her truly heauenly faire:
But, brings her forth with such a Blessed Grace,
As, makes him happy that may see her face.
She shewes her in a Glasse of Beauties Truth,
How, Art doth Nature too much iniurie;
That feebled Aye in forced tricks of Youth,
In true Conceite is Reasons Mockerie;
The idle thoughts that spoile the inward eies,
Where Loue should liue, but in dishonour dies,
She shewes her there the Maiden-blush complection,
Betwixt the cherrie Red, and snowie White:
And, reades her then the precepts of perfection,
Within the circle of Dianas fight▪
She shewes her all the Titles of desart,
And, that true honour liues but in the hart.
She neuer taught the Eye to leere nor lowre,
Tongue, idle talke; nor minde, vngratious thought▪
She neuer set a countenance sharpe and sowre,
Nor, fetch't a sigh vpon a thing of nought:
But, shewes her Indgement of so iust a Measure,
As, proues her Wisedome worth a world of Treasure.
She shewes her then, how Fancie like a Flea,
Can skip about a skittish humour'd hart:
And, how that sorrow like the Ocean Sea,
Can drowne the spirit in a deadly smart:
While, Melancholy doth oppresse the Minde,
Where better humours haue no place to finde.
Then, doth she take the Counsailour alone,
And, shewes him all the secrets of his hart,
Bids him behold the Mournfull Widowes moane,
The Orphanes teares, the grieued Sutors smart:
Loue, feare, and serue, first God, and then his King,
And, doe no worke that may his Conscience wring.
She tells him then, the heau'nly Consistorie
Doth only sit vpon the spirits good:
Where, in the fight of sacred Wisedomes eie,
Cannot a clawse amisse be vnderstood:
While, Truth it selfe, that pleads the poore mans case,
From Mercies Iustice hath impartiall Grace.
Then▪ doth she take aside the Courtier,
And, shewes him all the fruites of idlenes;
That, fancie is but follies Treasurer,
While Wit is thrall vnto vnthriftines:
While Pride presuming on deceiuing Hope,
Griefe doth the Gate, but to Repentance ope.
She tells him there she neuer taught the eye
To feede the spirit with an idle Gaze:
She neuer taught the tongue to walke awrie,
Nor, brought the minde into a wilfull Maze:
She neuer taught the fashion, nor the cost,
Where, Wisedome sees time, and expence but lost.
She neuer teacheth to play fast and loose,
Nor, iuggle with a false conceiued Ioy:
Nor, let the Foxe be taken by a Goose,
Nor, euer sold a treasure for a toy:
She neuer taught him to misspend his time,
Nor higher state then his desert to clime.
She neuer taught him how to crouch, nor creepe,
Nor scorne, nor scoffe, nor hang the head a-side:
Nor sigh, nor sob, nor wipe the eye, and weepe,
Nor hatefull thoughts in louing lookes to hide▪
No, no, she is or a more heauenly Nature,
Then, with such by-wit to abuse a Creature.
Then, doth she call for euery Officer,
And bids him strictly looke into his Oath,
That, Conscience may be true deliuerer
Of an vnspotted, simple faith, and troth:
That seruice loue by duties care discharged,
In Honours eye make due Reward enlarged.
Then, doth she take account of his accounts,
How, all the summes doe with the parcels gree:
And, how much cunning Conscience surmounts,
And, what in fine, the finall summe will be:
And, tells him that a counting day will come,
When he shall make account for all and some.
Thus, when she hath the Courtiers all reade ouer,
She calls the Lawyer to a conscience case,
And, tells him, Truth is Learnings only Louer,
Who, neuer puts the poore Man out of place:
But, holds the hand of Iustice weight so euen,
As if the Ballance had the Beame in Heauen.
She neuer takes a Bribe to make a Motion,
Nor, soothes a Client in a false Conceite;
She neuer seekes an vndeseru'd promotion,
Nor sells her Beauty vnto the poore by weight;
No, she is true, and iust, and wise, and kinde,
And, as she thinks, will euer speake her minde.
Then doth she take the Souldiour in his Tent,
And shewes him there the hideous fight of blood:
That, Mercy euer with true valour went,
To spoile the wicked, but to spare the good:
That, Conquest neuer is in true perfection,
But, when a Man can Maister his Affection.
She teacheth not a wicked Stratagem,
Nor, how for Coine to buy and sell a Towne:
Nor to vsurpe a princely Diadem,
Nor raise the vile, nor put the vertuous downe:
No, when she once begins to leuie Armes,
The good haue Grace, the only wicked harmes.
She neuer prai'd vpon the poore Mans purse,
Nor tyraniz'd vpon the Prisoner:
She neuer reap't the Mournfull Widowes Curse,
Nor of an Infant was a Murtherer:
She neuer was by Sea nor Land a Thiefe,
But had Compassion on the poore Mans griefe.
Thus hauing shew'd the Souldiour what she knowes,
Becomes the cariage of a Noble Minde:
She calls the Merchant, and to him she showes,
That, Conscience care is of a heauenly kinde:
While no corruption can the soule infect,
That to the spirit hath a due respect.
She shewes him there, there is no ware, nor weight,
But the all-Seeing-Eye in secret sees,
And, that no cunning can excuse deceite,
Which gaining drosse; doth better siluer leese:
She tells him plaine it is all gotten gaine,
For fading pleasure gets eternall paine.
She tells him, that the aduenture on the Sea,
Is not all blest to enrich the couetous:
Nor to maintaine the Epicure his Ease.
The proud, the bad, nor the vitious:
But, to prouide for neede, and to relieue
The needy hart, whom griping want doth grieue.
In some she shewes him that the spirits wealth,
Is free from all vnconscionable ill▪
And, howsoeuer, Wit doth worke by stealth,
There is no Wisedome but the Gratious will:
Where carefull Loue, where Comfort neuer wasteth,
Laies vp the Treasure that for euer lasteth.
Then, doth she call on euery Trade and Art,
And, still cries out, haue care of Conscience,
Bids euery eye, looke well into the hart,
And, not be caried with a wicked sence:
For, in the day of the eternall Doome,
Plainenes in heauen will haue a princely Roome.
What, though sometime her habite be but poore,
Her lodging hard, her diet spare and thinne:
She stand disgraced at the rich mans doore,
And fast without, while other feast within:
Yet, is she better with her Crosse contented,
Then, sport with sinnes, to haue her soule tormented.
And, though sometime she sit and hold her peace,
While, idle heads doe vse their tongues at large:
And, grieue to see true Learnings worth decrease,
When that a Dunce doth take a Doctors charge;
Yet, may the world in all her courses know,
'Tis not her will, God knowes it shall be so.
And, though sometime she be in fetters tied,
While wicked spirits walke at liberty,
And, be enforc'd her fairest thoughts to hide,
While hatefull thoughts are had in Dignitie:
Yet hath she patience to endure her crosses,
While heau'nly gaine doth counteruaile her losses.
Oh, could the world discerne her worthines,
In all true honour, in all honours truth:
How she doth only giue a happines
Vnto the grauest Age, and greenest Youth:
Euen from the King, vnto the poorest Creature,
She would be honour'd in a heau'nly Nature.
But, let the world esteeme her as it will,
She shall be worth more then the world is worth:
And, when the world shall blush to see her ill,
Then shall she bring her heauenly Beauty forth:
And make them all confesse vnto their faces,
Her Glory puts them all vnto disgraces.
She neuer speakes but Truth, nor doth but well,
Her thoughts all pure, and grounded on perfection:
She doth among the holy Muses dwell,
And guides the Graces, all by her direction:
She is the Bodies Grace, the spirits Queene,
In whom all Graces haue their Glory seene.
Oh, that I could describe her in her height,
As God and her good Grace might giue me leaue:
How all the Saints, and all the Angels waite,
But on her will, and from the same receiue
The highest substance of their heau'nly Blisse,
In whom alone all heau'nly Blessing is.
Then should the world be all asham'd to see,
How basely they her glorious Grace regarded:
And grieue in soules to thinke that euer she
Should for her seruice be so ill rewarded:
That few or none, wise, fond, nor rich, nor poore,
But ready are to thrust her out of doore.
Then should the Courts of Princes flock vnto her,
And Lords and Ladies sue to her for Grace:
And happy soules that best can seruice doe her,
And seeke their life but in her louely face:
And then her Grace, such should a Glory beare,
That there should be no world but where she were.
But since her worth is to the world vnknowne,
And only Heauen doth her deere Loue embrace:
Her worth is more then can in words be showne,
While Grace it selfe can only shew her Grace:
Let me but leaue her in all Admiration,
To Virgins, Saints, and Angels Adoration.
And let me say but what in soule I finde,
She is the Essence of all Excellence:
The Eie, the Heart, the Body, and the Minde,
Where holy Rules haue all their Residence:
Of all good Motions the first only Mouer,
The proofe of loue, and of Loues proofe the Louer.
The strength of Truth, th'assurance of all Trust,
The Concordance of all contentiue cares:
The Iudgement of the Wisedome of the Iust,
The sacred shop of the Celestiall warre:
The lemme for which no price can be too great,
Th'Eternall Manna for the spirits Meate.
The Eie of light, where Loue hath all his life,
The tong of Truth, where Wisedom hath her words:
The heart of peace, where patience knowes no strife,
The hand of Bounty that all Grace affords:
The face of Beauty where all Brightnes shineth,
The soule of wonder that all worth defineth.
The soile wherein all sweetnes euer groweth,
The Fountaine whence all Wisedome euer springeth;
The winde that neuer but all blessing bloweth,
The Aire that all comfort euer bringeth:
The fire that euer life with loue enflameth,
The figure that all true perfection frameth▪
The study of the soules Intelligence,
The Art of Wisedomes high Inuention:
The Rule of Reasons best Experience,
The worke of Mercies Glorious Mention:
The ground of Honour, and discretions Grace,
Place's perfection, and perfections place.
All this, and more then I can speake or write,
In Vertue liues, and to her loue belongs:
And, though the world doe barre her of her right,
Yet heauen will one day right her of her wrong▪
And make the world to know her gratious Nature,
And, how she only makes the Glorious Creature.
And, since that day will one day come vnwares,
When she will call a Court of all her Teanures,
And, see the fruite of all her seruants wares,
And, take an order for all Misdemeanures:
Let all the world be fearefull to offend her,
And thinke them happy that can best attend her.
Let euery Creature seeke and sue to serue her,
And euery King, and Lord, and Lady loue her:
And euery heart endeuour to deserue her,
And euery Minde for some good Motion moue her:
And euery tongue in true perfection praise her,
And euery soule to endlesse Glory raise her.
And let me aske a pardon of heau'ns Grace,
For my poore spirits mounting vp so high:
Who, for my sinnes doth bid me hide my face,
And not to heau'n to dare to lift mine eie:
And say no more, but end as I begun,
She is a Queene of Queenes, and I haue done.
And since that Vertue neuer can be seene,
But by the Eie of Wisedomes sacred sence:
Where she beholds her as the Blessed Queene,
That weares the Crowne of Reasons excellence:
Let me beseech the Heauens my soule to Raise,
To speake of Wisedome in her worthy praise.
And, though I know, and cannot but confesse
My thoughts vnable to aspire so high,
And euery way, but all vnworthinesse
In me, to write of such a Misterie:
Yet let my heart a little tell my Minde,
What wonder worth, in Wisedomes works I finde.

Gloria in excelsis Deo.

Vpon the praise of Wise­dome. The second daies worke.

FRom the vaine humours of vnseason'd Wit,
Whose heedlesse wil breeds nothing els but woe:
Among the seates where sacred spirits sit,
The holy pleasures of the heauens to know:
My humble Muse learne what perfection saies,
In Glorious Wisedomes neuer ending praise.
She is the spirit of the highest power,
The Essence of all purenes Excellence:
The compasse of the euerlasting hower,
The Vertue of all purenes Quintessence:
The knowledge that all knowledge only giueth,
And only life, in which, life only liueth.
She sits in counsaile with the Trinitie,
And is th' Almighties secret Secretarie:
She keepes the Graces in an Vnitie,
And doth the charge of all their seruice carie:
Before Creation she did make Election,
And for the Action she did giue direction.
She calls the Angels each one by their names,
And sets the Saints and Martirs in their places:
Their Himnes and Songs vnto their Lord she frames,
And to their Musique giues especiall Graces:
The Seraphins she makes to clap their wings,
While all the Heauens their Haleluiah sings.
Amid the skie she set the Sunne and Moone,
And made diuision twixt the day and night:
She made the morning and the after noone,
And set each planet in his place aright:
She prickt the Starres vpon the Firmament,
And gaue a life to euery Element.
She made the times the seasons of the yeare,
The change of Natures, and the notes of choise:
She made perfection euery way appeare,
And in her labours made her Loue reioyce:
So by desert the highest did her call
High Officer, and worke Mistris of all.
She made the Earth in compasse like a Ball,
Betwixt the water and the skie depending:
Yet hangs so fast, that it can neuer fall,
Vntill all earthly things must haue an ending:
And hauing fram'd it as she thought it meete,
Made it a footstoole for her Masters feete.
She made the Seas, the Brooks, the Fountaine springs:
The Trees, the Fruites, the Herbs, and euery Flower:
The Fish, the Beast, and euery Bird that sings:
The Yeere, the Month, the Week, the day, the hower:
The outward shape, and euery inward sence,
And euery Starre a sundry influence.
She framed Man the last of euery Creature,
But yet the best, and to her loue the neerest:
She gaue his heart a kinde of heau'nly nature,
And held his life vnto her loue the deerest:
She made him all things by their names to call,
And vnder God, Lord Gouernour of all.
She taught him only how to know the good,
But neuer taught him how to know the euill:
She fed his spirit with a wholesome food,
Till Pride did bring him poyson from the Deuill:
She made him then his folly to confesse,
And then his faith in Mercy finde redresse.
She gaue his soule a Minde aboue his Hart,
His Hart, a feeling of his spirits Nature:
His Nature, Reason▪ and his Reason, Art;
His Art, a knowledge of each earthly Creature:
His Knowledge, Honour; and his Honour, Grace,
His Grace a fauour, in a Glorious place.
She read him all the Rules of Learnings Loue,
The Naturall, the Morall, and Diuine:
She shew'd the Blessing of the soules behoue,
That doth not wholy to the earth decline:
She shewes the way vnto eternall Blisse,
And, for the world, how base a thing it is.
Yet, when she made the world for her best Grace,
She sets a Course, and Rule for euery thing:
For Nature, Reason, Action, Time, and Place,
How best proportion might perfection bring;
And, how in all might all things so agree,
That in their Concords, might no discord be.
In scale, and feather, haire, and skinne, and hue,
In substance, sence, in colour, shape, and feature:
How they were first begot, and how they grew,
And how each one should differ in their Nature:
Yet, differing so, they might together liue,
That none might other hurt, or hinderance giue.
But vnto Man, she only gaue a minde,
To looke into the life of euery Nature:
And giue them names, and vse them in their kinde,
And take commandement of each kind of Creature:
And by her will to walke among them so,
That euery one should him their seruice owe.
She made each haire, each Artir, and each vaine,
The flesh the bones, the finnowes, and the skinne:
The heart, the lytes, the liuer, and the braine,
The outward Beauty, and the strength within:
And to his soule did giue that heau'nly Nature,
That made in all the admirable Creature.
She gaue him wings to mount aboue the winde,
And inward Eies to see aboue the Sunne:
And by her Rules did make his Reason finde,
How Sun, and Moone, & Starres their courses runne:
How Sea-Men by the pole their courses guide,
And by the Moone the turne of euery Tide.
She makes him finde the Heauens operations,
Vpon the Bodies of the earth below:
She makes him by his spirits contemplations
Vpon the earth, things aboue Earth to know:
And to his knowledge doth that Vertue giue,
As learnes him only to his God to liue.
She makes a difference in the Mindes of Men,
She crownes the Princes, and entituleth Honor;
She writes their Stories with a perfect Pen,
And doth aduaunce them that doe tend vpon her:
She makes them Blest that doe in patience proue her,
And liue for euer that doe truly loue her.
She doth instruct the King in all his care,
Where Mercies Iustice beares a blessed sword:
She shewes the Peeres when they in counsaile are,
What fauour heau'ns the faithfull hearts afoord:
She shewes the people the due loyaltie,
That Subiects owe vnto their Soueraigntie.
She makes the Courtier not misspend his time,
She bids the Souldiour spare the Innocent;
And the Diuine beware the Conscience crime,
And makes the Lawyer a good Studient:
She makes the Merchant honest with his wealth,
And, labour keepe the labouring Man in health.
She teacheth euery Science, and each Art,
And shewes the Truth of euery Argument:
And makes distinctions vpon euery part,
And is of all the only Ornament:
She shewes the Studient in Diuinitie,
Heauen with the world hath no Affinitie.
She feedes no fancie with an idle fashion,
Yet fashions all things in a comly frame:
She neuer knew Repentance wofull passion,
Nor euer fear'd the blot of wicked blame:
But euen and true what euer she intended,
Wrought all so well, that none could be amended.
She neuer whirles about an idle Wit,
Nor taketh pleasure in a wanton Eie:
Nor in the seate of pride did euer sit,
Nor from the poore did turne her hand awrie:
Nor maintain'd wealth with wretched Miserie,
Nor sought for honour by Indignitie.
No, no, that Man that would his Mistris make her,
That Woman that doth choose her for her Louer:
That Man, or Woman that doth only take her
For their best Loue, and in their hearts doe loue her:
In rauisht sweetnes of her Beauties Blisses,
Will dwell vpon her lips in louely Kisses.
She neuer yet did harme to any liuing,
Nor is there any good but that she doeth:
To euery soule she is her Comfort giuing;
And with her sweetnes so Affection woeth,
That they who could in Loues perfection proue her,
Would hate themselues, and if they did not loue her.
She laies the lines of life in Vertues loue,
Imploies the Minde in holy Meditations:
The hart, in study of the soules behoue,
The spirit, in Loues Contemplations
The tongue, in speaking truth on euery part,
The soule, in prayer, for a faithfull hart.
She neuer was acquainted with Corruption,
Not came within the Aire of all Infection:
Her purpose neuer had an Interruption,
Nor euer was she crost in her direction:
But sound and sure she caries so her skill,
That in all good, there can be found no ill.
She is the fairest of all Beauties Fame,
She is the sweetest of all Reasons sence:
She is the Noblest of all Honours name,
She is the strongest of all Loues defence:
She is the richest of all earthly Treasure,
And purest substance of the Spirits pleasure.
Oh, what can there be more? that she should be?
Or, how should she be more then that she is?
That all may see, and more then all may see,
The blessed Being of all Being Blisse;
All Infinite, in all perfections waies,
And Infinite, in all perfections praise.
And, being then in goodnes all so Good,
As, being best, a better cannot be:
Which, in her selfe is only vnderstood,
And in her selfe, her selfe can only see:
What life of Grace? but would in loue admire her,
Or Gratious loue could liue, and not desire her?
But since that loue is the true life indeede,
Of which she is, by which she only liueth:
From which she hath her only happy spide,
To which she oweth all the good she giueth;
Let me the purest of my passion proue,
To see her Glory in the Grace of loue.

THE PRAISE OF Loue. The third daies worke.

O Loue that liuest in that only light,
Which giues all seeing to all gratious Eies:
But keepest thy sence frō that vngodly sight,
That in the darknes of Illusion dies:
Lighten my soule that it may cleerely see,
How thou in Wisedome, Wisedome liues in thee.
The Angels can in their Attonements tell,
How kindly thou do'st make them liue together:
And where the Saints and holy Martirs dwell,
The holy Muses bring their Musique thither,
And while the Hoast of all the Heauens reioyce,
Thou tun'st the heart-strings of the highest voice.
Loue is the Essence of Eternitie,
That workes the course of Wisedomes cariage:
Where the high counsaile of the Deitie,
Twixt Heauen and Earth doe make a Mariage:
While in the life of Holines alone,
The Lord of Heauen, and his true Church are one.
It layes the plot, and drawes the lines of pleasure,
Within the ground of Graces Paradise:
It works the Truth, that is the spirits Treasure,
And builds the height of Honours Dignities:
It bends the Eies of Graces Royaltie,
And knits the hearts of Vertues Loyaltie.
It is no Obiect for an earthly Eie,
Nor any Muse for any worldly minde:
Although the world in true effects may trie;
It is a spirit of a powerfull kinde;
And such a power, as all powers doe submit;
To the Inuincible power of it.
It maketh Will doe only what it list,
While Wisedome guides the Axill Tree of wit:
And neuer feares the hurt of had I wist,
That sees a Crosse, and is content with it:
While patience findes the only faire perfection,
Of Fancies faith, in fauours true Affection.
It is a substance that admits no figure,
For in it selfe it breedes but of exceedings:
While in the Notes of pleasures truest Nature,
The fruites of Faith are Fancies only feedings:
While in conceite those high Contentments meete,
That happy soules are rauisht with the sweete.
To comprehend, it passeth Comprehension,
And to define, 'tis vndefinable:
And to describe, it doth exceede Inuention,
And to conceiue, 'tis vnconceiuable:
Yet by the Vertue that our sence it giues,
Our Reason findes that in our soules it liues.
It is a fire that kindleth in the Eie,
It is an Aire that cooleth Furies heate:
It is a water that is neuer drie,
A Paradise, where growes the spirits meate;
Thus it partakes of euery Element,
Yet liues aboue the highest Firmament.
It is a thought begotten by a sight,
And 'tis a sight that liueth in the thought;
It is a life that breedeth in delight,
And a delight that life hath only wrought;
It is a word that by true spirits spoken,
Doth knit a knot that neuer can be broken.
Oh, how it doth a blessed Nature nourish,
And how it doth an humble spirit cherish:
And how it makes a faithfull heart to flourish,
And suffers not a Gratious soule to perish:
Witnes those hearts whose perfect spirits proue,
How loue in Wisedome, Wisedome liues in loue.
Fortune can neuer haue a force to foile it,
Nor feare to fright, nor enuie to anoy it;
Nor passion to hurt, impatience to spoile it,
Nor Death to kill, nor Deuill to destroy it:
But where all pleasures spring, and perish neuer,
Heere, or in Heau'n it hath a life for euer.
From the faire Brightnes of a Beautious Eie,
It caries honour to an humble hart:
And from the heart of Truthes Humilitie,
It gaines the comfort of a kinde desart:
And in true kindnes, that content alone,
That of two Bodies makes the Minde but one.
It brought downe Heau'n to Earth, brings Earth to Heau'n,
It walks about the circle of the Sunne:
It makes the Planets keepe their orders eu'n,
And Nature kindly all her courses runne:
It sits vpon the holy seate of Grace,
And with the highest, hath the highest place.
It keepes all Order, Measure, Rule, and Right,
In Nature, Reason, Wisedome, Wit, and Sence▪
In word, and deede, and thought, by day and night,
In time and place, in Case, and Moode, and Tense:
Where all proportions are in such perfection,
As shewes the depth of the diuine direction.
It makes the husband kinde vnto his wife,
The spouse obedient to her faithfull pheere:
And in that kindnes that contentiue life,
That only doth but in that life appeare:
The Children gratious, and the Parents kinde,
And each in other what they wish to finde.
Brethren and sisters liue in Vnitie,
And Neighbours liue in friendly Neighbourhood:
And friends continue in true Amitie,
And strangers vnto strangers to doe good:
Princes in Peace, and Subiects liue in Grace,
And so the earth to proue a heau'nly place.
Oh, how it fights against infamous thought,
And kills the Nature of an ill coniecture:
How true it hath the life of Vertue taught,
And builds the height of Honours Architecture:
How little it regards all earthly toyes,
And surely leades the soule to endlesse ioyes.
How sweetly on the Nurses lips it lies,
While she is bussing of her little Baby:
And how it twinckles in the Infants eies,
In learning of his Christes Crosse, and his A. B:
How cherry-red it dies a snowie white,
Where Maiden-blushes make a blessed sight.
Loue makes the Triumphes of the truest ioyes,
And sounds the Trumpet of the sweetest sound:
Loue speakes in hearts, and makes no idle noise,
But is in some of euery Grace the ground:
It is a Riddle aboue Reasons sence,
And of exceedings all the excellence.
It makes the thought, the word and deede all one,
It bindes the eye, the hand, and heart together:
It is in truth the only Tree alone,
Which keeps his greene where not a leafe can wither:
It is the Bird that only sings in May,
And makes the holy spirits holy day.
It takes away the tediousnes from time,
The paine from patience, in desire delaies:
The feare from care, the hearts content to clime,
The sloath from labour in his hardest waies:
The frailty from the Nature of Affection,
And folly from the passion of perfection.
It is a Vertue of that sacred sence,
In working wonders in the spirits power:
As in the height of Reasons Excellence,
Vpon the top of Truths eternall Tower:
Doth stand with such a Grace of heau'nly Glory,
As may be call'd the state of Wisedomes story,
And since it is so infinite in worth,
As doth exceede his penne of Reasons praise:
Who from the soule of Wisedome issues forth,
As from the Sunne his brightest shining Raies:
Let me heere cease, and all in Admiration,
Leaue it to Wisedomes only declaration.
And since it doth in nothing more appeare,
Then in the Nature of true Constancie:
Which is a Vertue to the soule to deere,
As keepes the soule from Errors Extasie;
Let me a little speake of that sweet Nature,
Of Constancie that makes the Blessed Creature.

THE PRAISE OF Constancie. The fourth daies worke.

O Constancie, thou only kingly thought,
That keepes the spirit in her purest kinde:
And hast against all idle frailty fought,
And like a Mountaine set lest fast the Minde:
Let me conceiue some part of thy content,
Where pleasures spirit is most sweetly spent.
And though I cannot reach that Royall height,
Wherein thy sacred Maiestie doth sit:
Yet as a Seruant let me humbly waite,
To see thine honour, and to speake of it:
And so to speake, that all the world may see
Wisedomes Loues, Honor only liues in thee.
The constant Eie hath neuer wandring fight,
The constant Eare hath no vnkindly hearing:
The constant Tongue doth euer speake aright,
The constant Heart hath euer happy chearing:
The constant Minde the fairest thoughts vnfold thee,
The constant Soule on earth & heauen behold thee.
It neuer hath a thought of iealousie,
Nor stands vpon Opinions Parador:
Nor runnes a fury into frenzie,
Nor feares the Wolfe, nor ioyneth with the Fox:
But like the Phoenix in a sunnie fire,
Findes lifes delight in ashes of desire.
It loues no change, and breedes the ioy of choise,
It feares no fortune, nor it serues no folly:
It keepes the Rule where Reason doth reioice,
And is the substance of contentment wholy:
It is a stay that strengtheneth the Minde,
And knit the sences in a sacred Kinde.
It is the true foundation of all strength,
Which while it holds, the frame can neuer fall:
It is the line that drawes the longest length,
And euer is, that sees the end of all:
It keeps the Rules of the Heau'ns reuolution,
And doth confirme all Reasons resolution.
It is the locke vpon the heart of loue,
A Chest that keepes the treasure of the Minde:
Within the soule a Rocke that cannot moue
A Band▪ that doth the thoughts together binde.
A light where Wisedome Vertues honour seeth,
And life where only Grace with loue agreeth.
It keepes the Sunne in his continuall brightnes,
The ayre in coolenes, and the earth in drynesse:
Water in moisture, and the winde in lightnesse,
The fire in hotnes, and the flame in highnesse:
The good in goodnes, and the kinde in kindnes,
The minde from madnes, and the eye from blindnes.
It was the mouer first of mariage,
And made the first continuance of content:
It set the course of Wisedomes cariage,
And neuer further then affection went:
It is the state of all perfections stay,
And Times all euer lasting holy day.
It is the Crowne of Patience kingly care,
The seate where Mercy sits in Maiestie:
The Law wherein all blessed precepts are,
The fame of Loue, and league of Amitie;
The learning of the wisest wits instruction,
And sence of the most sweetest thoughts construction.
Aboue the Heauens it liueth with the highest,
And in the Heauens it dwelleth with the purest:
And to the Nature of the best the nighest,
And in the sence of all conceites the surest:
And in the Action of all Art the strongest,
And in the length of Time, and Truth the longest.
It keepes the center of the earth from mouing,
The swelling Sea from passing of his Bounds:
The Rules of true perfection from Reprouing,
The health of Wisedome from all follies Wounds;
The circle of the world in such a frame,
That Admiration may commend the same.
Oh, how it writes the worthinesse of those,
That stroue for honour to the stroke of death:
And how without comparison it showes,
The mouth of Wisedome blessed in her breath:
And how it makes the fame of them to flourish,
That with their Bounty vertuous spirits nourish.
It made the Mirror of all Martirdome,
And in the faithfull makes a Glorious fight:
And in the day of the Eternall doome,
It will be Gratious in all Glorious sight:
Where hopes continuance in all kindnes care,
Brings humble faith to endlesse happy fare.
And since it is so infinite a Grace,
As may deserue as infinite a praise:
And is the fulnesse of the fairest place,
In all the walke of Wit, and Reasons waies:
Where patience proues the best experience,
Let me a little sing of Patience.

THE PRAISE OF Patience. The fifth daies worke.

SWeete Patience thou soueraigne of perfection,
Of Gratious thoughts the only Gouernesse:
Who by the Rules of thy diuine direction,
Do'st bring the heart to highest Happinesse:
My humble soule with thy sweete loue enflame,
That I may sing in honour of thy name.
The purest thought that euer heart possessed,
The clearest Obiect of the carefull'st Eie:
The present Medicine for the Minde distressed,
The only ease in euery Miserie:
In all the proofe of Wits Experience,
In heart, and minde, and soule, is patience.
It puts off feare of Fortunes frowardnes,
And only rests on Resolution:
It wrestles with the worlds vntowardnes.
And holds the state of Reasons Constitution:
It conquers Will, and so doth carie Wit,
That both are happy only but in it.
It breedes no wroth, nor moueth Enuies ill,
It breakes no concord, nor discention sturres:
It learnes the spirit an especiall skill,
Where Reasons care Repentance not incurres:
And if Repentance, folly doe enforce,
It is a meane vnto a sweet remorce.
It beareth want as if it were no woe,
And suffers wrong as if it had no sence:
It swallowes sorrow as it were not so,
And taketh Death for lifes Ingredience:
It neither feedes of fortune, feare nor fate,
But alwaies is all one in euery state.
In time it keepes the compasse of the hower,
In action, order, measure, point, and place:
In thought, the temper of the spirits power,
In Wit and Reason all the Rules of Grace:
In Grace the ground of that perfections story,
That goeth neere the height of Vertues Glory.
It makes the entrance into euery Action,
Continues the proceedings, makes the end:
It kils the Nature of vnquiet Faction,
And of a foe sometime doth make a friend:
It doth conceale the hearts calamitie,
And makes a Vertue of Necessitie.
By Patience we doe our soules possesse,
And tread the path to our soules Paradice:
While the impatient in their soules distresse,
Headlong fall into their soules Miseries;
It is a salue that healeth the soules griefe,
Sorrowes rankt poison, and the soules reliefe.
Patience doth try the Truth of euery thing,
Distills the spirits of the purest Natures:
Teacheth the Muse her Musique notes to sing,
And findes the difference of all kindes of Creatures:
Giues bodies health, and makes the spirits diet,
And brings the soule vnto Eternall quiet.
It keepes the Husband chaste vntill he marrie,
The Wife obedient to her Band of loue:
It makes the Mother for her Childe to tarie,
And Seruants waite for their Rewards behoue:
It makes the Sea-man tarie for a winde,
And poore men waite till richer men haue dinde.
It makes the wounded Man endure his dressing,
The sicke Man see the loosing of his blood:
The poore Man beare the paine of his oppressing,
The good Man against euill to doe good:
The wise Man study for the state of Blisse,
The holy Man finde where all blessing is.
It keepes the King from thought of Crueltie,
The Noble Peere from Prides Ambition:
The Counsailour from all Impietie,
The Courtier from all ill condition:
The Church-man from the error of selfe-will,
The Lay-man from the exercise of ill.
By patience Dauid had a Princely fame,
And, Iob his patience hath a worthy praise:
But Christ his patience hath the Glorious name,
That euer liues to neuer ending daies:
Since then in God and Man it is so glorious,
Let it be held a Vertue all victorious.
In God it doth a worke of Mercy show,
In Mercy Comfort, and in Comfort Grace:
In Grace that loue from which that life doth flow,
That shewes where Patience hath a happy place:
Oh blessed Patience that in Man doth proue,
Gods Mercies comfort in his Gratious loue.
It brings the heart to Loues Humilitie,
Humility to Truthes simplicitie:
And simple Truth to Cares Tranquilitie,
And quiet Care to faith's felicitie:
And happy faith vnto that fairest Blisse,
In which the fairest of all Blessing is.
And since that in Humility I finde
True Patience hath her purest Residence:
And brings the heart, the spirit, and the minde
Vnto the height of Reasons Excellence:
Let me a little shew what Vertue saies,
In setting downe Humilities due praise.

THE PRAISE OF Humilitie. The sixth daies worke.

OH the sweet sence of loues Humilitie,
Which feares displeasure in a dearest friend:
The only note of true Nobilitie,
Whose worthy Grace is graced without end:
While faithfull loue in humble Truth approued,
Doth euer liue of God and Man beloued.
Her Grace is Gratious in the sight of God,
Makes men as Saints, and women Angels seeme,
Makes sinne forgotten, Mercy vse no Rod,
And constant Faith to grow in great esteeme:
And is in some a Blessing of the Highest,
And to the Nature of himselfe the Nighest.
It maketh Beauty like the Sunne to shine,
As if on earth there were a heau'nly light:
It maketh Wit in Wisedome so diuine,
As if the Eie had Celestiall sight:
It is a Guide vnto that Hauen of Rest,
Where Blessed soules doe liue for euer blest.
In Christ it is a Grace of worthy Glory.
In Man from God, a gift of speciall Grace:
While in the state of Vertues honours story,
Wisedome doth finde it in perfections place:
And plac't so high in the Almighties loue,
As nothing more can Mercies comfort proue.
It makes the eye look downe into the heart,
The heart obedient vnto wit and sence:
And euery limbe to play a Seruants part,
Vnto the will of Wits preheminence:
It brings the Minde vnto the Body so,
That one the other cannot ouergoe.
It is the death of pride, and patience loue,
Passions Phisitian, Reasons Counsailour:
Religions Darling, labours Turtle Doue,
Learnings Instructer, Graces Register:
Times best Attendant, & Truthes best Explainer,
Vertues best Louer, and Loues truest Gainer.
It is the Princes Grace, the Subiects duty,
The Schollers lesson, and the Souldiours line:
The Courtiers credite, and the Ladies Beauty,
The Lawyers vertue, and the loue diuine:
That makes all sences Gratious in his sight,
Where all true Graces haue their Glorious light.
It makes the heart fit for all good Impression,
It doth prepare the spirit for perfection:
It brings the soule vnto her sinnes confession,
It helpes to cleare the body from infection:
It is the meane to bring the minde to rest,
Where heart, soule, body, minde, and all are blest.
It made the Mother of the Sonne of God,
Gratious in him who made her full of Grace:
And on her Sonne it blessedly abode,
In bearing all the filthy worlds deface:
And in his Seruants for their Maisters loue,
Did Faiths affections in their passions proue.
It saued Abrahami Sonne from Sacrifice,
When Isaaks death was quitted by the Ramme;
It saued Noah and his Progenies,
Where on the earth destructions Deluge came;
It saued Lot from hurt of Sodomes fire,
And Israel from cruell Pharaohs ire.
It wrought in Dauid Gratious penitence,
In Niniuie a sweet submission:
In Iob a famous Blessed patience,
In Paule assurance of his sinnes Remission:
In Iohn the habite of a holy loue,
In Christ the Grace that did all Glory proue.
It euer holds the hand of faithfulnes,
And euer keepes the Minde of Goldlines:
And euer brings the heart to quietnes,
And euer leades the soule to happines:
And is a Vertue of that Blessednes,
That merits praise in highest worthines.
Oh how it gaines the Childe the Parents loue,
The wife her husband, and the seruants Maisters:
Where humble faith in happy hopes behoue,
Findes patience care, discomforts healing plaisters:
And truest course of cares Tranquillity,
Only to rest but in Humility.
And since that in the life of humble loue,
I see the way vnto the well of Blisse:
Where Patience doth in all perfection proue,
Where the high Blessing of all Blessings is:
Let my soule pray that I may humbly sing,
The heau'nly praises of my holy King.

Of the infinite praise to the infinite glory of the infinite good­nes of the infinite God. The seuenth daies worke.

O Glorious God, and God of only Glory,
Essence and substance of all excellence:
The groūd the grace, the state, & al the story,
Of Vertues, Wisedoms, Graces Residence:
Inspire my soule with those pure thoughts perfection,
That shew some sparkle of thy loues affection.
And let me not presume a looke too high,
Least thou abridge the Blessing of thy loue:
Nor yet so low, let me embrace mine eyes.
As thy faire praises may vnfitly proue:
But so thy goodnes euery where to know,
That euery where I may thy Glory show.
And though my soule polluted all with sinne,
Vnworthy be of the least thought of Grace:
Yet let thy Grace a Glorious worke begin,
Thy holy spirit in my heart to place:
That to the date of neuer ending daies,
My soule may sing thine euerlasting praise.
Before there was a light, there was a light,
Which saw the world, the world could neuer see:
From which, the world receiues her brightest sight,
And brightnes more then in the world may be:
Oh heauenly light aboue all earthly seeing,
Where only Vertue hath her only being.
From the faire Brightnes of this Beauteous light,
Hath Wisedomes eye an only power to see:
The line of life that leades her spirit right,
Vnto the place where all perfections be:
Which in the worke of wonder doe approue,
The Gratious labour of a Glorious loue.
There Vertue doth in all her brightnes liue,
Spreading abroad the braunches of her Blisse:
As doth the Sonne his beames of brightnes giue,
While in himselfe the only brightnes is:
Oh blessed light where such a life remaineth,
As giues all light, and yet all light containeth.
There doth she sit, and sweetly looke about her,
Beholding in the eye of Vertues light:
Purenes within, perfection all without her,
While in a brightnes farre aboue her sight:
There liues a power her spirits loue inspiring▪
To frame a worke for wit and sence admiring.
There from a Chaos or Confusions Map,
She takes the matter of her curious frame:
While in the limits of faire Vertues lap,
She drawes the course and compasse of the same:
Where hauing laide the ground-worke of her Grace,
She made the world vp in a little space.
Sixe only dayes was for her worke ordained,
The seuenth to rest, the labour of her loue:
Her time she kept, and in her care retained,
Such forme and measure as did truly proue:
Her Maister taught her euery rule so right,
That all was good and pleasing in his sight.
Her first daies worke was in the Heauens on high,
When she deuided darknes from the light:
Wherein all pleasing the all seeing Eie,
The light she called day, the darknes night▪
When hauing heauen and earth of nothing framed,
The Morne and Euening she the first day named.
The second day vpon the waters, she
Did fall to worke, and made a Firmament:
By which, the waters should deuided be,
That were in this confused continent:
Where euery one within their bounds should stay,
So, Euen and Morne she made her second day.
Then from the earth the waters she deuided,
And gath'red all together, call'd them Seas:
And by her skill so carefully prouided,
That in her worke she did her Maister please:
Then made the earth, and called it dry land,
Thus did the labour of her third daies hand.
In which she made the earth to fructifie,
In leafe, and fruit, Tree, bud and hearbe, and seede:
In which she did her Maister glorifie,
Who, seeing all, said all was good in deede▪
So in her worke thus worthily commended,
In morne and euening was her third day ended.
Then in the heau'ns the shining lights she framed,
That should diuide betwixt the day and night:
The greater lights, the Sunne and Moone she named,
Which should giue Rules to times and seasons right▪
The lesser starres to whom she gaue a light,
To twinkle like the Candels of the Night.
And in this worke she kept her course so well,
And still the state of Grace so vnderstood:
As he in whom all Graces only dwell,
In sight of goodnes saw that all was good:
So where no praise her worth diminished,
The Euen and Morne her fourth day finished.
Then to the waters she her worke applies,
And made each mouing and each creeping thing:
And in the Heauen each feathered fowle that flies,
And euery Creature that doth carie wing:
When all seem'd good in her great Maisters eie,
Who bad them all encrease and multiplie.
Thus hauing wrought with infinite conceite,
The sundry forme and shape of euery Creature:
With such inuention as exceedes the height,
Of Wit and Reasons praises highest Nature▪
While high perfection each proportion framed,
The Euen and Morning was her fift day named.
Thus when that her weekes worke was almost done▪
She hath her choisest worke to take in hand:
For which before the Modell be begun,
She must vpon her Maisters counsaile stand:
How she may shape his loue, his liuely picture,
To haue his patience pleased in his Creature.
When hauing fauour in his high perfection,
With humble care a lump of clay she takes:
Of which, by Rules of his Diuine direction,
Vnto his Image perfect man she makes:
Who so in loue did to his liking fall,
That vnder Heau'n he made him Lord of all.
Thus hauing made vp all her workmanship,
Within the limits of her fairest loue:
Where constant Truth could neuer take a trip,
While carefull Patience did perfection proue:
When all was good, in goodnes all enstalled,
The Euen and Morning she the sixt day called.
And seeking now her sacred thoughts to rest,
Vpon the Grace of the Eternall good:
She findes the Sabaoth by her Maister blest,
Who giues her spirits that especiall food:
That after all the labour of her daies,
Doth make her sing his euerlasting praise.
Which, as I finde, in her faire Musique sounding,
Although it be a Note aboue my reach:
Yet on the Grace of Vertue only grounding,
As her sweet spirits doth my spirit teach:
My humble soule shall straine my heart to sing,
The Gratious praises of my Glorious King.
O holy Essence of all holines,
Grace of all Glory, Glory of all Grace:
Perfections Vertue, Vertues perfectnes,
Place of all Beauty, Beauty of all place:
Truths only Triall, Times Eternitie,
Incomprehensible in thy Deitie.
Wisedomes deuiser, Father of her loue,
Constancies proofe, and life of patience:
Humilities Essence, Faiths true Turtle Doue,
Mercies Almighty Glorious Residence:
Sweet Iesus Christ, mine humble soule enflame,
To sing the Glory of thy holy Name.
Before what was, but that which euer is,
The Godhead all Incomprehensible:
Sweet Iesus Christ, the Essence of all Blisse,
But in his Manhood only sensible:
My Sauiours was, and in himselfe alone,
Containing all things, but contain'd in none.
The Nature of all Vertues in his Nature,
Had all their Essence of their only Being:
When in Creation of each kinde of Creature,
Wisedome in him had only all her seeing:
Whose loue in him that constant patience found,
That of her Grace and Glory was the ground.
His spotlesse Vertue all his life did proue,
In doing good to all, and ill to none:
His Wisedome did the Doctors wonder moue,
His loue the Touchstone of all Truth alone:
His Constancie euen to his dying hower,
Did shew his patience, had a heau'nly power.
And for the Note of his Humility,
His crosse bare witnes in his life and death:
Who bare all basenes Inciuility,
Yet neuer breath'd the smallest angry breath:
O glorious King that came from Heauen on high,
Vpon this earth for Beggers so to die.
His vertue in his will, his word doth show
His Wisedome in Election and Creation;
His loue, his Louers by his death doe know,
His Constancie, his patience confirmation:
His patience his humility did proue,
And all in some his Glory from aboue.
Whose Vertue such, as his that could not sinne?
Whose Wisedome such, as worketh Vertues will?
Whose loue is such, as Wisedome liueth in?
Whose Constancie doth shew such kindnes still?
Whose patience such, as did his passion show,
Or who so high, and euer brought so low.
What Vertue doth, his Wisedome doth expresse,
What Wisedome doth, his loue doth manifest:
What loue doth, doth his constancie confesse,
What Constancie doth, in his patience blest:
What Patience doth, Humility doth tell,
In him alone they all and only dwell.
Then let the vertuous for all vertue loue him,
And let the wise in Wisedomes loue admire him▪
And let the constant in all kindnes proue him,
And let the patient patiently desire him:
And let the humble humbly fall before him,
And all together all in all adore him.
Oh that the world could see his vertues Beauty,
Or wit of man his Wisedomes Maiestie:
Or Loue could looke into his Constancie,
Or patience into his humility:
Then vice, nor folly, frailty, rage, nor pride,
Should in the mindes of men so much abide.
His Vertue made the first perfections Nature,
His Wisedome made the forme of all perfection:
His loue did giue the life to euery Creature,
His Constancie the care of Loues direction:
His patience Medicine for all Miseries,
His humblenes the way to Paradice.
Would'st thou be perfect? in his vertue know it,
Would'st thou be vertuous? in his wisedome learne it:
Would'st thou be wise? in his loue only shew it,
Would'st thou be louing? in his life discerne it:
Would'st thou he constant? in his care conceiue it,
Would'st thou be patient? in his death perceiue it.
Would'st thou be humble in his lowlines?
Learne to submit thy selfe to higher powers:
Would'st thou be blessed in his Blessednes?
Learne to bestow the labour of thine howers:
Would'st thou be holy, and liue happy euer?
Liue in his loue, and thou shalt liue for euer.
The infinite good thoughts his vertue giueth,
The infinite good works his will perfecteth:
The infinite good life in his loue liueth,
The infinite loue his constancie effecteth:
Th'infinite constancie his patience proueth,
Doe humbly shew what infinitenes loueth.
Since Vertues (then) good thoughts are infinite,
And infinite is Vertue in good thought;
And infinite is Wisedome in good wit,
And infinite is loue by Wisedome wrought;
And infinite is constancie in loue,
Which infinitely patience doth proue.
In infinite Humility of hart,
Vnto the height of all Infinitie:
In infinite perfection of each part,
That makes the infinite Diuinitie:
The Father, Sonne and holy Ghost all three,
In one, one God, all infinite Glory bee.
And since no heart is able to attaine,
Vnto his holy and eternall praise:
To whom alone doth duly appertaine,
The date of Glories neuer ending dayes:
When Angels in their Haleluiah dwell,
Let me but sing A men, and I am well.

Gloria in excelsis Deo.

TO ALL LEAR­ned and vertuous Schollers, and gratious Studients, honour and happines.

GEntlemen, I feare, this my mi­stermed piece of Poetry, in your true iudgements, will be subiect to the reproofe of errour; what is a­misse, I humbly leaue to your corre­ction, and what is otherwise, to your fauourable acceptation: and so, loath to be tedious in ceremonies, I rest affe­ctionately to all good learning.

A friend auowed. BER. N. Gent.

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