[figure]
This was for youth, Strength, Mirth, and wit that Time
Most count their golden Age; but t'was not thine.
Thine was thy later yeares, so much refind
From youths Drosse, Mirth, & wit; as thy pure mind
Thought (like the Angels) nothing but the Praise
Of thy Creator, in those last, best Dayes.
Witnes this Booke, (thy Embleme) which begins
With Love; but endes, with Sighes, & Teares for sin̄s.

Will: Marshall. sculpsit. IZ: WA:

The First Anniuersarie. AN ANATOMIE of the World. Wherein, BY OCCASION OF the vntimely death of Mistris ELIZABETH DRVRY, the frailtie and the decay of this whole World is represented.

LONDON, Printed by M. Bradwood for S. Macham, and are to be sold at his shop in Pauls Church-yard at the signe of the Bull-head. 1612.

TO THE PRAISE of the Dead, and the ANATOMY.

WEll dy'de the World, that we might liue to see
This World of wit, in his Ana­tomee:
No euill wants his good: so wilder heyres;
Bedew their fathers Toombes, with forced teares,
Whose state requites their losse: whiles thus we gaine
[Page]Well may we walke in blacks, but not complaine.
Yet how can I consent the world is dead
While this Muse liues? which in his spirits stead
Seemes to informe a world: and bids it bee,
In spight of losse, or fraile mortali­tee?
And thou the subiect of this wel­borne thought,
Thrise noble maid; couldst not haue found nor sought
A fitter time to yeeld to thy sad Fate,
Then whiles this spirit liues; that can relate
[Page]Thy worth so well to our last ne­phews eyne,
That they shall wonder both at his, and thine:
Admired match! where striues in mutuall grace
The cunning Pencill, and the ceom­ly face:
A taske, which thy faire goodnesse made too much
For the bold pride of vulgar pens to tuch;
Enough is vs to praise them that praise thee,
And say that but enough those prai­ses bee,
Which had'st thou liu'd, had hid their fearefull head
[Page]From th'angry checkings of thy mo­destred:
Death bars reward and shame: when enuy's gone,
And gaine; 'tis safe to giue the dead their owne.
As then the wise Egyptians wont to lay
More on their Tombes, then houses: these of clay,
But those of brasse, or marble were; so wee
Giue more vnto thy Ghost, then vnto thee.
Yet what we giue to thee, thou gauest to vs,
And maiest but thanke thy selfe, for being thus:
[Page]Yet what thou gau'st, and wert, O happy maid,
Thy grace profest all due, were'tis repayd.
So these high songs that to thee sui­ted bine,
Serue but to sound thy makers praise, in thine,
Which thy deare soule as sweetly sings to him
Amid the Quire of Saints and Se­raphim,
As any Angels tongue can sing of thee;
The subiects differ, thothe skill agree:
For as by infant-yeeres men iudge of age,
[Page]Thy early loue, thy vertues, did presage
What an hie part thou bear'st in those best songs
Whereto no burden, nor no end be­longs.
Sing on thou Virgin soule, whose lossefull gaine
Thy loue-sicke Parents haue be­wayl'd in vaine;
Neuer may thy name be in our songs forgot
Till we shall sing thy ditty, and thy note.

The First Anniuersary. AN ANATOMIE of the World.

WHen that rich soule which to her heauen is gone,
The entrie into the worke.
Whom all they celebrate, who know they haue one,
(For who is sure he hath a soule, vnlesse
It see, and Iudge, and follow wor­thinesse,
And by Deedes praise it? He who doth not this,
[Page 2]May lodge an In-mate soule, but tis not his.)
When that Queene ended here her progresse time.
And, as t' her standing house, to heauen did clymbe,
Where, loth to make the Saints attend her long,
Shee's now a part both of the Quire, and Song.
This, world, in that great earth­quake languished;
For in a common Bath of teares it bled,
Which drew the strongest vitall spirits out:
But succour'd then with a perplex­ed doubt,
Whether the world did loose or gaine in this,
(Because since now no other way there is
[Page 3]But goodnesse, to see her, whom all would see,
All must endeuour to be good as shee.)
This great consumption to a feuer turn'd,
And so the world had fits; it ioy'd, it mournd,
And, as men thinke, that Agues physicke are,
And th' Ague being spent, giue ouer care,
So thou, sicke world, mistak'st thy selfe to bee
Well, when alas, thou'rt in a Le­targee.
Her death did wound, and tame thee than, and than
Thou mightst haue better spar'd the Sunne, or Man;
That wound was deepe, but'tis more misery,
[Page 4]That thou hast lost thy sense and memory.
T'was heauy then to heare thy voyce of mone,
But this is worse, that thou art speechlesse growne.
Thou hast forgot thy name, thou hadst; thou wast
Nothing but she, and her thou hast o'repast.
For as a child kept from the Fount, vntill
A Prince, expected long, come to fulfill
The Ceremonies, thou vnnam'd hadst laid,
Had not her comming, thee her Palace made:
Her name defin'd thee, gaue thee forme and frame,
And thou forgetst to celebrate thy name.
[Page 5]Some moneths she hath beene dead (but being dead,
Measures of times are all determi­ned)
But long shee'ath beene away, long, long, yet none
Offers to tell vs who it is that's gone.
But as in states doubtfull of future heyres,
When sickenesse without remedy, empayres
The present Prince, they're loth it should be said,
The Prince doth languish, or the Prince is dead:
So mankind feeling now a generall thaw,
A strong example gone equall to law,
The Cyment which did faithfully compact
[Page 6]And glue all vertues, now resolu'd, and slack'd,
Thought it some blasphemy to say sh'was dead;
Or that our weaknesse was disco­uered
In that confession; therefore spoke no more
Then tongues, the soule being gone, the losse deplore.
But though it be too late to suc­cour thee,
Sicke world, yea dead, yea putrifi­ed, since shee
Thy'ntrinsique Balme, and thy pre­seruatiue,
Can neuer be renew'd, thou neuer liue,
I (since no man can make thee liue) will trie,
What we may gaine by thy Ana­tomy.
[Page 7]Her death hath taught vs dearely, that thou art
Corrupt and mortall in thy purest part.
Let no man say, the world it selfe being dead,
'Tis labour lost to haue disco­uered.
The worlds infirmities, since there is none
Aliue to study this dissecti­one;
What life the world hath [...].
For there's a kind of world remai­ning still,
Though shee which did in animate and fill
The world, be gone, yet in this last long night,
Her Ghost doth walke; that is, a glimmerig light,
A faint weake loue of vertue and of good
[Page 8]Reflects from her, on them which vnderstood
Her worth; And though she haue shut in all day,
The twi-light of her memory doth stay;
Which, from the carcasse of the old world, free,
Creates a new world; and new creatures bee
Produc'd: The matter and the stuffe of this,
Her vertue, and the forme our practise is.
And though to be thus Elemented, arme
These Creatures, from hom-borne intrinsique harme,
(For all assum'd vnto this Dig­nitee,
So many weedlesse Paradises bee,
[Page 9]Which of themselues produce no venemous sinne,
Except some forraine Serpent bring it in)
Yet, because outward stormes the strongest breake,
And strength it selfe by confidence growes weake,
This new world may be safer, be­ing told
The dangers and diseases of the old:
The sick­nesses of the world.
For with due temper men do then forgoe,
Or couet things, when they their true worth know.
There is no health; Phisitians say that wee
Impossibility of health.
At best, enioy, but a neutra­litee.
And can there be worse sicknesse, then to know
[Page 10]That we are neuer well, nor can be so?
We are borne ruinous: poore mo­thers crie,
That children come not right, nor orderly,
Except they headlong come and fall vpon
An ominous precipita­tion.
How witty's ruine? how impor­tunate
Vpon mankinde? It labour'd to frustrate
Euen Gods purpose; and made woman, sent
For mans reliefe, cause of his lan­guishment.
They were to good ends, and they are so still,
But accessory, and principall in ill.
[Page 11]For that first mariage was our fu­nerall:
One woman at one blow, then kill'd vs all,
And singly, one by one, they kill vs now.
We doe delightfully our selues al­low
To that consumption; and pro­fusely blinde,
We kill our selues, to propagate, our kinde.
And yet we doe not that; we are not men:
There is not now that mankinde, which was then
When as the Sunne, and man, did seeme to striue,
(Ioynt tenants of the world) who should suruie.
Shortnesse of life.
When Stag, and Rauen, and the long-liu'd tree.
[Page 12]Compar'd withman, dy'de in mi­noritee.
When, if a slow-pac'd starre had stolne away
From the obseruers marking, he might stay
Two or three hundred yeeres to see't againe,
And then make vp his obseruation plaine;
When, as the age was long, the the sise was great:
Mans grouth confess'd, and recom­penc'd the meat:
So spacious and large, that euery soule
Did a faire Kingdome, and large Realme controule:
And when the very stature thus erect,
Did that soule a good way to­wards Heauen direct.
[Page 13]Where is this mankind now? who liues to age,
Fit to be made Methusalem his page?
Alas, we scarse liue long enough to trie;
Whether a true made clocke run right, or lie.
Old Grandsires talke of yester­day with sorrow,
And for our children we reserue to morrow.
So short is life, that euery peasant striues,
In a torne house, or field, to haue three liues,
And as in lasting, so in length is man.
Contracted to an inch, who was a span,
Smalnesse of stature.
For had a man at first, in Forrests stray'd,
[Page 14]Or shipwrack'd in the Sea, one would haue laid
A wager that an Elephant, or Whale
That met him, would not hastily assaile
A thing so equal to him: now alas.
The Fayries, and the Pigmies well may passe
As credible; mankind decayes so soone,
We're searse our Fathers shadowes cast at noone.
Onely death addes t'our length: nor are we growne
In stature to be men, till we are none.
But this were light, did our lesse volume hold
All the old Text; or had we chang'd to gold
[Page 15]Their siluer; or dispos'd into lesse glas,
Spirits of vertue, which then scat­tred was.
But 'tis not so: w'are not retir'd, but dampt?
And as our bodies, so our mindes are cramp't:
'Tis shrinking, not close-weaning, that hath thus,
In minde and body both bedwarfed vs.
We seeme ambitious, Gods whole worke t'vndoe;
Of nothing he made vs, and we striue too,
To bring our selues to nothing backe; and we
Do what we can, to do't so soone as hee.
With new diseases on our selues we warre,
[Page 16]And with new phisicke, a worse Engin farre.
Thus man, this worlds Vice-Empe­ror, in whom
All faculties, all graces are at home;
And if in other Creatures they ap­peare,
They're but mans ministers, and Legats there,
To worke on their rebellions, and reduce
Them to Ciuility, and to mans vse.
This man, whom God did wooe, and loth t'attend
Till man came vp, did downe to man descend,
This man, so great, that all that is, is his,
Oh what a trifle, and poore thing he is?
[Page 17]If man were any thing, he's no­thing now:
Helpe, or at least some time to wast, allow
T'his other wants, yet when he did depart
With her whom we lament, he lost his heart.
She, of whom th'Ancients seem'd to prophesie,
When they call'd vertues by the name of shee,
She in whom vertue was so much refin'd,
That for Allay vnto so pure a minde
Shee tooke the weaker Sex, she that could driue
The poysonous tincture, and the stayne of Eue,
Out of her thoughts, and deeds; and purifie
[Page 18]All, by a true religious Alchi­my;
Shee, shee is dead; shee's dead: when thou knowest this,
Thou knowest how poore a trifling thing man is.
And learn'st thus much by our Anatomee,
The heart being perish'd, no part can be free.
And that except thou feed (not banquet) on
The supernaturall food, Reli­gion
Thy better Grouth growes withe­red, and scant;
Be more than man, or thou'rt lesse then an Ant.
Then, as mankinde, so is the worlds whole frame
Quite out of ioynt, almost created lame:
[Page 19]For, before God had made vp all the rest,
Corruption entred, and deprau'd the best:
It seis'd the Angels, and then first of all
The world did in her Cradle take a fall,
And turn'd her brains, and tooke a generall maime
Wronging each ioynt of th'vniuer­sall frame.
The noblest part, man, felt it first; and than
Both beasts and plants, curst in the curse of man.
Decay of na­ture in other parts.
So did the world from the first houre decay,
That euening was beginning of the day,
And now the Springs and Som­mers which we see,
[Page 20]Like sonnes of women after fifty bee.
And new Philosophy cals all in doubt,
The Element of fire is quite put out;
The Sunne is lost, and th'earth, and no mans wit
Can wel direct him where to looke for it.
And freely men confesse that this world's spent,
When in the Planets, and the Fir­mament
They seeke so many new; they see that this
Is crumbled out againe to his Atomis.
'Tis all in pieces, all cohaerence gone;
All iust supply, and all Rela­tion:
[Page 21]Prince, Subiect, Father, Sonne, are things forgot,
For euery man alone thinkes he hath got
To be a Phoenix, and that then can bee
None of that kinde, of which he is, but hee.
This is the worlds condition now, and now
She that should all parts to reuni­on bow,
She that had all Magnetique force alone,
To draw, and fasten sundred parts in one;
She whom wise nature had inuen­ted then
When she obseru'd that every sort of men
Did in their voyage in this worlds Sea stray,
[Page 22]And needed a new compasse fo their way;
Shee that was best, and first origi­nall
Of all faire copies; and the generall
Steward to Fate; shee whose rich eyes, and brest:
Guilt the West Indies, and per­fum'd the East;
Whose hauing breath'd in this world, did bestow
Spice on those Isles, and bad them still smell so,
And that rich Indie which doth gold interre,
Is but as single money, coyn'd from her:
She to whom this world must it selfe refer,
As Suburbs, or the Microcosme of her,
[Page 23]Shee, shee is dead; shee's dead: when thou knowest this,
Thou knowst how lame a cripple this world is.
And learnst thus much by our Anatomy,
That this worlds generall sickenes doth not lie
In any humour, or one certaine part;
But as thou sawest it rotten at the heart,
Thou seest a Hectique feuer hath got hold
Of the whole substance, not to be contrould.
And that thou hast but one way, not t'admit
The worlds infection, to be none of it.
For the worlds subtilst immaterial parts
[Page 24]Feele this consuming wound, and ages darts.
For the worlds beauty is decayd, or gone,
Disformity of parts.
Beauty, that's colour, and propor­tion.
We thinke the heauens enioy their Sphericall
Their round proportion embracing all.
But yet their various and perplexed course,
Obseru'd in diuers ages doth en­force
Men to finde out so many Eccen­trique parts,
Such diuers downe-right lines, such ouerthwarts,
As disproportion that pure forme. It teares
The Firmament in eight and forty sheeres,
[Page 25]And in these constillations then arise
New starres, and old doe vanish from our eyes:
As though heau'n suffred earth­quakes, peace or war,
When new Towers rise, and old demolish'd are.
They haue empayld within a Zo­diake
The free-borne Sunne, and keepe twelue signes awake
To watch his steps; the Goat and Crabbe controule,
And fright him backe, who els to eyther Pole,
(Did not these Tropiques fetter him) might runne:
For his course is not round; nor can the Sunne
Perfit a Circle, or maintaine his way
[Page 26]One inche direct; but where he rose to day
He comes no more, but with a cousening line,
Steales by that point, and so is Ser­pentine:
And seeming weary with his reele­ing thus,
He meanes to sleepe, being now falne nearer vs.
So, of the starres which boast that they doe runne
In Circle still, none ends where he begunne.
All their proportion's lame, it sinks, it swels.
For of Meridians, and Paral­lels,
Man hath weau'd out a net, and this net throwne
Vpon the Heauens, and now they are his owne.
[Page 27]Loth to goe vp the hill, or labour thus
To go to heauen, we make heauen come to vs.
We spur, we raigne the stars, and in their race
They're diuersly content t'obey our peace,
But keepes the earth her round proportion still?
Doth not a Tenarif, or higher Hill
Rise so high like a Rocke, that one might thinke
The floating Moone would ship­wracke there, and sinke?
Seas are so deepe, that Whales be­ing strooke to day,
Perchance to morrow, scarse at middle way
Of their wish'd iourneys end, the bottom, dye.
[Page 28]And men, to sound depths, so much line vntie,
As one might iustly thinke, that there would rise
At end thereof, one of th' Anti­podies:
If vnder all, a Vault infernall be,
(Which sure is spacious, except that we
Inuent another torment, that there must
Millions into a strait hot roome be thrust)
Then solidnesse, and roundnesse haue no place.
Are these but warts, and pock­holes in the face
Of th'earth? Thinke so: But yet confesse, in this
The worlds proportion disfigured is,
[Page 29]That those two legges whereon it doth rely,
Disorder in the world.
Reward and punishment are bent awry.
And, Oh, it can no more be questi­oned,
That beauties best, proportion, is dead,
Since euen griefe itselfe, which now alone
Is left vs, is without propor­tion.
Shee by whose lines proportion should bee
Examin'd, measure of all Symme­tree,
Whom had that Ancient seene, who thought soules made
Of Harmony, he would at next haue said
That Harmony was shee, and thence infer,
[Page 30]That soules were but Resultances from her,
And did from her into our bodies go,
As to our eyes, the formes from obiects flow:
Shee, who if those great Douctors truely said
That th'Arke to mans proportions was made,
Had beene a type for that, as that might be
A type of her in this, that con­trary
Both Elements, and Passions liu'd at peace
In her, who caus'd all Ciuill war to cease.
Shee, after whom, what forme soe're we see,
Is discord, and rude incongrui­tee,
[Page 31]Shee, shee is dead, shee's dead; when thou knowest this,
Thou knowst how vgly a monster this world is:
And learnst thus much by our Anatomee,
That here is nothing to enamor thee:
And that, not onely faults in in­ward parts,
Corruptions in our braines, or in our harts.
Poysoning the fountaines, whence our actions spring,
Endanger vs: but that if euery thing
Be not done fitly'nd in propor­tion,
To satisfie wise, and good lookers on,
(Since most men be such as most thinke they bee)
[Page 32]They're lothsome too, by this De­formitee.
For good, and well, must in our actions meete;
Wicked is not much worse then indiscreet.
But beauties other second Ele­ment,
Colour, and lustre now, is as neere spent.
And had the world his iust propor­tion,
Were it a ring still, yet the stone is gone.
As a compassionate Turcoyse which doth tell
By looking pale, the wearer is not well,
As gold fals sicke being stung with Mercury,
All the worlds parts of such com­plexion bee.
[Page 33]When nature was most busie, the first weeke,
Swadling the new-borne earth, God seemd to like,
That she should sport herselfe sometimes, and play,
To mingle, and vary colours euery day.
And then, as though she could not make inow,
Himselfe his various Rainbow did allow,
Sight is the noblest sense of any one,
Yet sight hath onely colour to feed on,
And colour is decayd: summers robe growes
Duskie, and like an oft dyed gar­ment showes.
Our blushing redde, which vs'd in cheekes to spred,
[Page 34]Is inward sunke, and onely our soules are redde.
Perchance the world might haue recouered,
If she whom we lament had not beene dead:
But shee, in whom all white, and red, and blew
(Beauties ingredients) voluntary grew,
As in an vnuext Paradise; from whom
Did all things verdure, and their lustre come,
Whose composition was miracu­lous,
Being all colour, all Diapha­nous,
(For Ayre, and Fire but thicke grosse bodies were,
And liueliest stones but drowsie, and pale to her,)
[Page 35]Shee, shee, is dead; shee's dead: when thou knowst this,
Thou knowest how wan a Ghost this our world is:
And learnst thus much by our Anatomee,
That it should more affright, then pleasure thee.
And that, since all faire color then did sinke,
Tis now but wicked vanity to thinke,
To colour vitious deeds with good pretence,
Weaknesse in the want of corres­pondence of heauen and earth
Or with bought colors to illude mens sense.
Nor in ought more this worlds de­cay appeares,
Then that her influence the heau'n forbeares,
Or that the Elements doe not feele this,
[Page 36]The father, or the mother barren is.
The clouds conceiue not raine, or doe not powre
In the due birth-time, downe the balmy showre.
Th' Ayre doth not motherly sit on the earth,
To hatch her seasons, and giue all things birth.
Spring-times were common cra­dles, but are toombes;
And false-conceptions fill the ge­nerall wombs.
Th' Ayre showes such Meteors, as none can see,
Not onely what they meane, but what they bee.
Earth such new wormes, as would haue troubled much,
Th' Egyptian Mages to haue made more such.
[Page 37]What Artist now dares boast that he can bring
Heauen hither, or constellate any thing,
So as the influence of those starres may bee
Imprisoned in an Hearbe, or Charme, or Tree,
And doe by touch, all which those starres could doe?
The art is lost, and correspondence too.
For heauen giues little, and the earth takes lesse,
And man least knowes their trade, and purposes.
If this commerce twixt heauen and earth were not
Embarr'd, and all this trafique quite forgot,
Shee, for whose losse we haue la­mented thus,
[Page 38]Would worke more fully' and pow'rfully on vs.
Since herbes, and roots by dying, lose not all,
But they, yea Ashes too, are me­dicinall,
Death could not quench her ver­tue so, but that
It would be (if not follow'd) won­dred at:
And all the world would be one dying Swan,
To sing her funerall praise, and va­nish than.
But as some Serpents poison hurt­eth not,
Except it be from the liue Serpent shot,
So doth her vertue need her here, to fit
That vnto vs; she working more then it.
[Page 39]But she, in whom, to such matu­rity,
Vertue was growne, past growth, that it must die,
She from whose influence all Im­pression came,
But, by Receiuers impotencies, lame,
Who, though she could not tran­substantiate
All states to gold, yet guilded eue­ry state,
So that some Princes haue some temperance;
Some Counsaylors some purpose to aduance
The common profite; and some people haue
Some stay, no more then Kings should giue, to craue;
Some women haue some tacitur­nity,
[Page 40]Some Nunneries, some graines of chastity.
She that did thus much, and much more could doe,
But that our age was Iron, and ru­sty too,
Shee, shee is dead; shee's dead: when thou knowest this,
Thou knowest how drie a Cinder this world is.
And learnst thus much by our Anatomy,
That'tis in vaine to dew, or mol­lifie
It with thy Teares, or Sweat, or Bloud: no thing
Is worth our trauaile, griefe, or pe­rishing,
But those rich ioyes, which did pos­sesse her heart,
Of which shee's now partaker, and a part.
[Page 41]But as in cutting vp a man that's dead,
Conclusion.
The body will not last out to haue read
On euery part, and therefore men direct
Their speech to parts, that are of most effect;
So the worlds carcasse would not last, if I
Were punctuall in this Anato­my.
Nor smels it well to hearers, if one tell
Them their disease, who faine would thinke they're wel.
Here therefore be the end: And, blessed maid,
Of whom is meant what euer hath beene said,
Or shall be spoken well by any tongue,
[Page 42]Whose name refines course lines, and makes prose song,
Accept this tribute, and his first yeeres rent,
Who till his darke short tapers end be spent,
As oft as thy feast sees this wi­dowed earth,
Will yearely celebrate thy second birth,
That is, thy death. For though the soule of man
Be got when man is made, 'tis borne but than
When man doth die. Our body's as the wombe,
And as a mid-wife death directs it home.
And you her creatures, whom she workes vpon
And haue your last, and best con­coction
[Page 43]From her example, and her vertue, if you
In reuerence to her, doe thinke it due,
That no one should her prayses thus reherse,
As matter fit for Chronicle, not verse,
Vouchsafe to call to minde, that God did make
A last, and lastingst peece, a song. He spake
To Moses, to deliuer vnto all,
That song: because he knew they would let fall,
The Law, the Prophets, and the History,
But keepe the song still in their memory.
Such an opinion (in due measure) made
[Page 44]Me this great Office boldly to in­uade.
Nor could incomprehensiblenesse deterre
Me, from thus trying to emprison her.
Which when I saw that a strict graue could doe,
I saw not why verse might not doe so too.
Verse hath a middle nature: Hea­uen keepes soules,
The Graue keepes bodies, Verse the same enroules.

A FVNERALL ELEGIE.

TIs lost, to trust a Tombe with such a ghest,
Or to confine her in a Marble chest.
Alas, what's Marble, Ieat, or Porphiry,
Priz'd with the Chrysolite of ei­ther eye,
Or with those Pearles, and Rubies which shee was?
Ioyne the two Indies in one Tombe, 'tis glas;
And so is all to her mate­rials,
[Page 46]Though euery inche were ten escu­rials.
Yet shee's demolished: Can we keepe herthen
In workes of hands, or of the wits of m [...]n?
Can th [...]se memorials, ragges of paper, giue
Life to that name, by which name they must liue?
Sickly, alas, short-liu'd, aborted bee
Those Carkas verses, whose soule is not sh [...]e.
And can shee, who no longer would be sh [...]e,
Being such a Tabernacle, stoope to bee
In paper wrap't; Or, when she would not lie
In such a house, dwell in an Ele­gie?
[Page 47]But 'tis no matter; we may well al­low
Verse to liue so long as the world will now
For her death wounded it. The world containes
Princes for armes, and Counsailors for braines,
Lawyers for tongues, Diuines for hearts, and more,
The Rich for stomachs and for backes the Pore;
The officers for hands, Merchants for feet
By which remote and distant Coun­tries meet.
But those fine spirits which doe tune and set
This Organ, are those peeces which beget
Wonder and loue; And these were shee; and shee
[Page 48]Being spent, the world must needs decrepit bee.
For since death will proceed to tri­umph still,
He can finde nothing, after her, to kill,
Except the world it selfe, so great as shee.
Thus braue and confident may Na­ture bee,
Death cannot giue her such another blow,
Because shee cannot such another show.
But must we say shee's dead? May't not be said
That as a sundred Clocke is peece­meale laid,
Not to be lost, but by the makers hand
Repolish'd, without error then to stand,
[Page 49]Or as the Affrique Niger streame en­wombs
It selfe into the earth, and after comes,
(Hauing first made a naturall bridge, to passe
For many leagues,) farre greater then it was,
May't not be said, that her graue shall restore
Her, greater, purer, firmer, then before?
Heauen may say this, and ioy in't; but can wee
Who liue, and lacke her, here this vantage see?
What is't to vs, alas, if there haue beene
An Angell made a Throne, or Che­rubin?
We lose by't: And as aged men are glad
[Page 50]Being tastlesse growne, to ioy in ioyes they had,
So now the sicke staru'd world must feed vpone
This ioy, that we had her, who now is gone.
Reioyce then nature, and this world, that you
Fearing the last fires hastning to subdue
Your force and vigor, ere it were neere gone,
Wisely bestow'd, and laid it all on one.
One, whose cleare body was so pure, and thin,
Because it need disguise no thought within.
T'was but a through-light scarfe, her minde t'enroule,
Or exhalation breath'd out from her soule.
[Page 51]On [...], whom all men who durst no more, admir'd,
And w [...]om, who ere had worth e­nough, desir'd;
As when a Temple's built, Saints emulate
To which of them, it shall be conse­crate.
But as when Heauen lookes on vs with new eyes,
Those new starres euery Artist ex­ercise,
What place they should assigne to them they doubt.
Argue, and agree not, till those starres goe out:
So the world studied whose this peece sh [...]uld be,
Till she can be no bodies else, nor sh [...]e:
But like a Lampe of Balsamum, de­sir'd
[Page 52]Rather t'adorne, then last, shee soone expir'd;
Cloath'd in her Virgin white inte­grity;
For mariage, though it doe not staine, doth dye.
To scape th'infirmities which waite vpone
Woman, shee went away, before sh'was one.
And the worlds busie noyse to ouer­come,
Tooke so much death, as seru'd for opium.
For though she could not, nor could chuse to die,
Shee'ath yeelded to too long an Extasie.
He which not knowing her said Hi­storie,
Should come to read the booke of destinie,
[Page 53]How faire and chast, humble and high shee'ad beene,
Much promis'd, much perform'd, at not fifteene,
And measuring future things, by things before,
Should turne the leafe to read, and read no more,
Would thinke that either destinie mistooke,
Or that some leaues were torne out of the booke.
But 'tis not so: Fate did but Vsher her
To yeares of Reasons vse, and then infer
Her destinie to her selfe; which li­bertie
Shee tooke but for thus much, thus much to die.
Her modesty not suffering her to bee
[Page 54]Fellow-Commissioner with desti­nee,
Shee did no more but die; if after her
Any shall liue, which dare true good prefer,
Euery such person is her dele­gate,
T' accomplish that which should haue beene her fate.
They shall make vp that booke, and shall haue thankes
Offate and her, for filling vp th [...]ir blanks.
For future vertuous deeds are Lega­cies.
Which from the gift of her example rise.
And 'tis in heau'n part of spirituall mirth,
To see how well, the good play her, on earth.
FINIS.
The Second Anniuersa …

The Second Anniuersarie. OF THE PROGRES of the Soule. Wherein: BY OCCASION OF THE Religious Death of Mistris ELIZABETH DRVRY, the incommodities of the Soule in this life and her exaltation in the next, are Contem­plated.

LONDON, Printed by M. Bradwood for S. Macham, and are to be sould at his shop in Pauls Church-yard at the signe of the Bull-head. 1612.

THE HARBINGER to the Progres.

TWo soules moue here, and mine (a third) must moue
Paces of admiration, and of loue;
Thy soule (Deare Virgin) whose this tribute is,
Mou'd from this mortall sphere to liuely blisse;
And yet moues still, and still aspires to see
The worlds last day, thy glories full degree:
[Page]Like as those starres which thou ore-lookest farre,
Are in their place, and yet still moued are
No soule (whiles with the lugage of this clay
It clogged is) can follow thee halfe way;
Or see thy flight; which doth our thoughts outgoe
So fast, that now the lightning moues but slow:
But now thou art as high in hea­uen flowne
As heau'ns from vs; what soule besides thine owne
Can tell thy ioyes, or say he can re­relate
[Page]Thy glorious Iournals in that bles­sed state?
I enuie thee (Rich soule) I enuy thee,
Although I cannot yet thy glory see:
And thou (Great spirit) which her's follow'd hast
So fast, as none can follow thine so fast;
So farre as none can follow thine so farre,
(And if this flesh did not the pas­sage barre
Had'st raught her) let me wonder at thy flight
Which long agone had'st lost the vnlgar sight
[Page]And now mak'st proud the better eyes, that thay
Can see thee less'ned in thine aery way;
So while thou mak'st her soules by progresse knowne
Thou mak'st a noble progresse of thine owne.
From this worlds carcasse hauing mounted hie
To that pure life of Immorta­litie;
Since thine aspiring thoughts them­selues so raise
That more may not beseeme a crea­tures praise,
Yet still thou vow'st her more; and euery yeare
[Page]Mak'st a new progresse, while thou wandrest here;
Still vpwards mount; and let thy makers praise
Honor thy Laura, and adorne thy laies.
And since thy Muse her head in heauen shrouds
Oh let her neuer stoope below the clouds:
And if those glorious sainted soules may know
Or what we doe, or what we sing below,
Those acts, those songs shall still content them best
Which praise those awfull powers that make them blest.

The Second Anniuersarie. OF THE PROGRES of the Soule.

NOthing could make mee soo­ner to confesse.
The en­trance.
That this world had an euerla­stingnesse,
Then to consider, that a yeare is runne,
Since both this lower worlds, and the Sunnes Sunne,
The Lustre, and the vigor of this All,
[Page 2]Did set; t'were Blasphemy, to say, did fall.
But as a ship which hath strooke saile, doth runne,
By force of that force which be­fore, it wonne,
Or as sometimes in a beheaded man,
Through at those two Red seas, which freely ran,
One from the Trunke, another from the Head,
His soule be saild, to her eternall bed,
His eies will twinckle, and his tongue will roll,
As though he beckned, and cal'd backe his Soul,
He graspes his hands, and he puls vp his feet,
And seemes to reach, and to step forth to meet.
[Page 3]His soule, when all these motions which we saw,
Are but as Ice, which crackles at a thaw:
Or as a Lute, which in moist wea­ther, rings
Her knell alone, by cracking of her strings.
So strugles this dead world, now shee is gone;
For there is motion in corrup­tion.
As some Daies are, at the Creati­on nam'd,
Before the sunne, the which fram'd Daies, was fram'd,
So after this sunnes set, some show appeares,
And orderly vicisitude of yeares.
Yet a new Deluge, and of Lethe flood,
[Page 4]Hath drown' vs all, All haue forgot all good,
Forgetting her, the maine Reserue of all,
Yet in this Deluge, grosse and ge­nerall,
Thou seest mee striue for life; my life shalbe,
To bee hereafter prais'd, for pray­sing thee,
Immortal Mayd, who though thou wouldst refuse
The name of Mother, be vnto my Muse,
A Father since her chast Ambition is,
Yearely to bring forth such a child as this.
These Hymes may worke on fu­ture wits, and so
May great Grand-children of thy praises grow.
[Page 5]And so, though not Reuiue, em­balme, and spice
The world, which else would pu­trify with vice.
for thus, Man may extend thy pro­geny,
Vntill man doe but vanish, and not die.
These Hymns thy issue, may en­crease so long,
As till Gods great Venite change the song.
Thirst for that time, O my insatiate soule,
A iust dis-estimation of this world.
And serue thy thirst, with Gods safe-fealing Bowle.
Bee thirsty still, and drinke still till, thou goe;
T'o th'onely Health, to be Hy­droptique so.
Forget this rotten world; And vnto thee,
[Page 6]Let thine owne times as an old sto­ry be
Be not concern'd: study not why, nor whan;
Do not so much, as not beleeue a man.
For though to erre, be worst, to try truths forth,
Is far more busines, then this world is worth.
The World is but a Carkas; thou art fed
By it, but as a worme, that carcas bred;
And why shouldst thou, poore worme, consider more,
When this world will grow better then before,
Then those thy fellow-wormes doe thinke vpone
That carkasses last resurrecti­one.
[Page 7]Forget this world, and scarse thinke of it so,
As of old cloaths, cast of a yeare agoe.
To be thus stupid is Ala­crity;
Men thus lethargique haue best Memory.
Looke vpward; that's towards her, whose happy state
We now lament not, but congra­tulate.
Shee, to whom all this world twas but a stage,
Where all sat harkning how her youthfull age
Should be emploid, because in all, shee did,
Some Figure of the Golden times, was hid.
Who could not lacke, what ere this world could giue,
[Page 8]Because shee was the forme, that made it liue;
Nor could complaine, that this world was vnfit,
To be staid in, then when shee was in it;
Shee that first tried indifferent de­sires
By vertue, and vertue by religious fires,
Shee to whose person Paradise ad­hear'd,
As Courts to Princes; shee whose eies enspheard
Star-light inough, t'haue made the South controll,
(Had shee beene there) the Star­full Northern Pole,
Shee, shee is gone; shee is gone; when thou knowest this,
What fragmentary rubbidge this world is.
[Page 9]Thou knowest, and that it is not worth a thought;
He honors it too much that thinks it nought.
Thinke then, My soule, that death is but a Groome,
Contempla­tion of our state in our death-bed.
Which brings a Taper to the out­ward romme,
Whence thou spiest first a little glimmering light,
And after brings it nearer to thy sight:
For such approches doth Heauen make in death.
Thinke thy selfe laboring now with broken breath,
And thinke those broken and soft Notes to bee
Diuision, and thy happiest Har­monee.
Thinke thee laid on thy death bed, loose and slacke;
[Page 10]And thinke that but vnbinding of a packe,
To take one precious thing, thy soule, from thence.
Thinke thy selfe parch'd with fe­uers violence,
Anger thine Ague more, by cal­ling it
Thy Physicke; chide the slacknesse of the fit.
Thinke that thou hearst thy knell, and thinke no more,
But that, as Bels cal'd thee to Church before,
So this, to the Triumphant Church, cals thee.
Thinke Satans Sergeants round about thee bee,
And thinke that but for Legacies they thrust;
Giue one thy Pride, to'another giue thy Lust:
[Page 11]Giue them those sinnes which they gaue thee before,
And trust th'immaculate blood to wash thy score.
Thinke thy frinds weeping round, and thinke that thay
Weepe but because they goe not yet thy way.
Thinke that they close thine eyes, and thinke in this,
That they confesse much in the world, amisse,
Who dare not trust a dead mans eye with that,
Which they from God, and An­gels couer not.
Thinke that they shroud thee vp, and thinke from thence
They reinuest thee in white inno­cence.
Thinke that thy body rots, and (if so lowe,
[Page 12]Thy soule exalted so, thy thoughts can goe.)
Thinke the a Prince, who of them­selues create
Wormes which insensibly deuoure their state.
Thinke that they bury thee, and thinke that right
Laies thee to sleepe but a saint Lu­cies night.
Thinke these things cheerefully: and if thou bee
Drowsie or slacke, remember then that shee,
Shee whose Complexion was so euen made,
That which of her Ingredients should inuade
The other three, no Feare, no Art could guesse:
So far were all remou'd from more or lesse.
[Page 13]But as in Mithridate, or iust per­fumes,
Where all good things being met, no one presumes
To gouerne, or to triumph no the rest,
Onely because all were, no part was best.
And as, though all doe know, that quantities
Are made of lines, and lines from Points arise,
None can these lines or quantities vnioynt,
And say this is a line, or this a point,
So though the Elements and Hu­mors were
In her, one could not say, this go­uernes there.
Whose euen constitution might haue worne
[Page 14]Any disease to venter on the Sunne,
Rather then her: and make a spirit feare
That he to disuniting subiect were.
To whose proportious if we would compare
Cubes, th'are vnstable; Circles, Angulare;
Shee who was such a Chaine, as Fate emploies
To bring mankind, all Fortunes it enioies,
So fast, so euen wrought, as one would thinke,
No Accident, could threaten any linke,
Shee, shee embrac'd a sicknesse, gaue it meat,
The purest Blood, and Breath, that ere it eat.
[Page 15]And hath taught vs that though a good man hath
Title to Heauen, and plead it by his Faith,
And though he may pretend a conquest, since
Heauen was content to suffer vio­lence,
Yea though he plead along posses­sion too,
(For they'are in Heauen on Earth, who Heauens workes do,)
Though he had right, and power, and Place before,
Yet Death must vsher, and vnlocke the doore.
Thinke further on thy selfe, my soule, and thinke;
Incommodi­ties of the Soule in the Body.
How thou at first wast made but in a sinke;
Thinke that it argued some infer­mitee,
[Page 16]That those two soules, which then thou foundst in mee,
Thou fedst vpon, And drewst into thee, both
My second soule of sence, and first of growth.
Thinke but how poore thou wast, how obnoxious,
Whom a small lump of flesh could poison thus.
This curded milke, this poore vnlit­tered whelpe
My body, could, beyond escape, or helpe,
Infect thee with originall sinne, and thou
Couldst neither then refuse, nor leaue it now.
Thinke that no stubborne sullen Anchorit,
Which fixt to'a Pillar, or a Graue doth sit
[Page 17]Beddded and Bath'd in all his Or­dures, dwels
So fowly as our soules, in their first-built Cels.
Thinke in how poore a prison thou didst lie
After, enabled but to sucke, and crie.
Thinke, when t'was growne to most, t'was a poore Inne,
A Prouince Pack'd vp in two yards of skinne.
And that vsurped, or threatned with the rage
Of sicknesses, or their true mother, Age.
But thinke that Death hath now enfranchis'd thee,
Her liberty by death.
Thou hast thy'expausion now and libertee;
Thinke that a rusty Peece, dis­charg'd, is flowen
[Page 18]In peeces, and the bullet is his owne,
And freely flies: This to thy soule allow,
Thinke thy sheel broke, thinke thy Soule hatch'd but now.
And thinke this slow-pac'd soule, which late did cleaue,
To'a body, and went but by the bo­dies leaue,
Twenty, perchance, or thirty mile a day,
Dispatches in a minute all the way,
Twixt Heauen, and Earth: shee staies not in the Ayre,
To looke what Meteors there themselues prepare;
Shee carries no desire to know, nor sense,
Whether th'Ayrs middle Region be intense,
[Page 19]For th' Element of fire, shee doth not know,
Whether shee past by such a place or no;
Shee baits not at the Moone, nor cares to trie,
Whether in that new world, men liue, and die.
Venus recards her not, to'enquire, how shee
Can, (being one Star) Hesper, and Vesper bee,
Hee that charm'd Argus eies, sweet Mercury,
Workes not on her, who now is growen all Ey;
Who, if shee meete the body of the Sunne,
Goes through, not staying till his course be runne;
Who finds in Mars his Campe, no corps of Guard;
[Page 20]Nor is by Ioue, nor by his father bard;
But ere shee can consider how shee went,
At once is at, and through the Fir­mament.
And as these stars were but so ma­ny beades
Strunge on one string, speed vndi­stinguish'd leades
Her through those spheares, as through the beades, a string,
Whose quicke succession makes it still one thing:
As doth the Pith, which, least our Bodies slacke,
Strings fast the little bones of necke, and backe;
So by the soule doth death string Heauen and Earth,
For when our soule enioyes this her third birth,
[Page 21](Creation gaue her one, a second, grace,)
Heauen is as neare, and present to her face,
As colours are, and obiects, in a roome
Where darknesse was before, when Tapers come.
This must, my soule, thy long-short Progresse bee;
To'aduance these thoughts, re­member then, that shee
Shee, whose faire body no such prison was,
But that a soule might well be pleas'd to passe
An Age in her; shee whose rich beauty lent
Mintage to others beauties, for they went
But for so much, as they were like to her;
[Page 22]Shee, in whose body (if wee dare prefer
This low world, to so high a mark, as shee,)
The Westerne treasure, Esterne spiceree,
Europe, and Afrique, and the vn­knowen rest
Were easily found, or what in them was best;
And when w'haue made this large Discoueree,
Of all in her some one part then will bee
Twenty such parts, whose plenty and riches is
Inough to make twenty such worlds as this;
Shee, whom had they knowne, who did first betroth
The Tutelar Angels, and assigned one, both
[Page 23]To Nations, Cities, and to Com­panies,
To Functions, Offices, and Dig­nities,
And to each seuerall man, to him, and him,
They would haue giuen her one for euery limme;
Shee, of whose soule, if we may say, t'was Gold,
Her body was th'Electrum, and did hold
Many degrees of that; (we vnder­stood
Her by her sight, her pure and elo­quent blood
Spoke in her cheekes, and so di­stinckly wrought,
That one might almost say, her bo­die thought,
Shee, shee, thus richly, and large­ly hous'd, is gone:
[Page 24]And chides vs slow-pac'd snailes, who crawle vpon
Our prisons prison, earth, nor thinke vs well
Longer, then whil'st we beare our brittle shell.
Her igno­rance in this life and knowledge in the next.
But t'were but little to haue chang'd our roome,
If, as we were in this our liuing Tombe
Oppress'd with ignorance, we still were so,
Poore soule in this thy flesh what do'st thou know.
Thou know'st thy selfe so little, as thou know'st not,
How thou did'st die, nor how thou wast begot.
Thou neither knowst, how thou at first camest in,
Nor how thou took'st the poyson of mans sin.
[Page 25]Nor dost thou, (though thou knowst, that thou art so)
By what way thou art made im­mortall, know.
Thou art to narrow, wretch, to comprehend
Euen thy selfe: yea though thou wouldst but bend
To know thy body. Haue not all soules thought
For many ages, that our body'is wrought
Of Ayre, and Fire, and other Ele­ments?
And now they thinke of new ingre­dients.
And one soule thinkes one, and a­nother way
Another thinkes, and ty's an euen lay
Knowst thou but how the stone doth enter in
[Page 26]The bladders Caue, and neuer breake the skin?
Knowst thou how blood, which to the hart doth flow,
Doth from one ventricle to th'other go?
And for the putrid stuffe, which thou dost spit,
Knowst thou how thy lungs haue attracted it?
There are no passages so that there is
(For ought thou knowst) piercing of substances.
And of those many opinions which men raise
Of Nailes and Haires, dost thou know which to praise?
What hope haue we to know our selues, when wee
Know not the least things, which for our vse bee?
[Page 27]We see in Authors, too stiffe to recant.
A hundred controuersies of an Ant.
And yet one watches, starues, free­ses, and sweats,
To know but Catechismes and Alphabets
Of vnconcerning things, matters of fact;
How others on our stage their parts did Act;
What Caesar did, yea, and what Cicero said.
Why grasse is greene, or why our blood is red,
Are mysteries which none haue reach'd vnto.
In this low forme, poore soule what wilt thou doe?
When wilt thou shake of this Pe­dantery,
[Page 28]Of being thought by sense, and Fantasy?
Thou look'st through spectacles; small things seeme great,
Below; But vp vnto the watch­towre get,
And see all things despoyld of falla­cies:
Thou shalt not peepe through lat­tices of eies,
Nor heare through Laberinths of eares, nor learne
By circuit, or collections to dis­cerne.
In Heauen thou straight know'st all, concerning it,
And what concerns it not, shall straight forget.
There thou (but in no other schoole) maist bee
Perchance, as learned, and as full, as shee,
[Page 29]Shee who all Libraries had throughly red
At home, in her owne thoughts, And practised
So much good as would make as many more:
Shee whose example they must all implore,
Who would or doe, or thinke well, and confesse
That aie the vertuous Actions they expresse,
Are but a new, and worse edi­tion,
Of her some one thought, or one action:
Shee, who in th'Art of knowing Heauen, was growen
Here vpon Earth, to such perfe­ction,
That shee hath, euer since to Heauen shee came,
[Page 30](In a far fairer point,) but read the same:
Shee, shee, not satisfied withall this waite,
(For so much knowledge, as would ouer-fraite
Another, did but Ballast her) is gone,
As well t'enioy, as get perfecti­one.
And cals vs after her, in that shee tooke,
(Taking herselfe) our best, and worthiest booke.
Of our com­pany in this life and in the next.
Returne not, my soule, from this extasee,
And meditation of what thou shalt bee,
To earthly thoughts, till it to thee appeare,
With whom thy conuersation must be there.
[Page 31]With whom wilt thou Conuerse? what station
Canst thou choose out, free from infection,
That wil nor giue thee theirs, nor drinke in thine?
Shalt thou not finde a spungy slack Diuine
Drinke and sucke in th'Instructions of Great men,
And for the word of God, vent them agen?
Are there not some Courts, (And then, no things bee
So like as Courts) which, in this let vs see,
That wits and tongues of Libellars are weake,
Because they doe more ill, then these can speake?
The poyson'is gone through all, poysons affect
[Page 32]Chiefly the cheefest parts, but some effect
In Nailes, and Haires, yea excre­ments, will show;
So wise the poyson of sinne, in the most low.
Vp vp, my drowsie soule, where thy new eare
Shall in the Angels songs no dis­cord heare;
Where thou shalt see the blessed Mother-maid
Ioy in not being that, which men haue said.
Where shee'is exalted more for being good,
Then for her interest, of mother­hood.
Vp to those Patriarckes, which did longer sit
Expecting Christ, then they'haue enioy'd him yet.
[Page 33]Vp to those Prophets, which now gladly see
Their Prophecies growen to be Historee.
Vp to th'Apostles, who did braue­ly runne,
All the Sunnes course, with more light then the Sunne.
Vp to those Martyrs, who did calmely bleed
Oyle to th'Apostles lamps, dew to their seed.
Vp to those Virgins, who thoughts that almost
They made ioyntenants with the Holy Ghost,
If they to any should his Temple giue.
Vp, vp, for in that squadron there doth liue
Shee, who hath carried thether, new degrees
[Page 34](As to their number) to their dig­nitees.
Shee, who beeing to herselfe, a state enioyd
All royalties which any state em­ploid,
For shee made wars, and tri­umph'd, reson still
Did not ouerthrow, but rectifie her will:
And shee made peace, for no peace is like this,
That beauty and chastity together kisse:
Shee did high iustice; for shee cru­cified
Euery first motion of rebellious pride:
And shee gaue pardons, and was liberall,
For, onely her selfe except, shee pardond all:
[Page 35]Shee coynd, in this, that her im­pressions gaue
To all our actions all the worth they haue:
Shee gaue protections; the thoughts of her brest
Satans rude Officers could nere ar­rest.
As these prerogatiues being met in one,
Made her a soueraigne state, reli­gion
Made her a Church; and these two made her all.
Shee who was all this All, and could not fall
To worse, by company; (for shee was still
More Antidote, then all the world was ill,
Shee, shee doth leaue it, and by Death, suruiue
[Page 36]All this, in Heauen; whether who doth not striue
The more, because shee'is there, he doth not know
That accidentall ioyes in Heauen doe grow.
Of essentiall ioy in this life and in the next.
But pause, My soule, and study ere thou fall
On accidentall ioyes, th'essenti­all.
Still before Accessories doe abide
A triall, must the principall be tride.
And what essentiall ioy canst thou expect
Here vpon earth? what permanent effect
Of transitory causes? Dost thou loue
Beauty? (And Beauty worthyest is to moue)
[Page 37]Poore couse'ned cose'nor, that she, and that thou,
Which did begin to loue, are nei­ther now.
You are both fluid, chang'd since yesterday;
Next day repaires, (but ill) last daies decay.
Nor are, (Although the riuer keep the name)
Yesterdaies waters, and to daies the same.
So flowes her face, and thine eies, neither now
That saint, nor Pilgrime, which your louing row
Concernd, remaines, but whil'st you thinke you bee
Constant, you'are howrely in in­constancee.
Honour may haue pretence vnto our loue,
[Page 38]Because that God did liue so long aboue
Without this Honour, and then lou'd it so,
That he at last made Creatures to to bestow
Honor on him; not that he needed it,
But that, to his hands, man might grow more fit.
But since all honors from inferiors flow,
(For they doe giue it; Princes doe but show
Whom they would haue so ho­nord) and that this
On such opinions, and capaci­ties
Is built, as rise, and fall, to more and lesse,
Alas, tis but a casuall happi­nesse.
[Page 39]Hath euer any man to'himselfe as­signed
This or that happinesse, to'arrest his minde,
But that another man, which takes a worse,
Thinke him a foole for hauing tane that course?
They who did labour Babels tower to'rect,
Might haue considerd, that for that effect,
All this whole solid Earth could not allow
Nor furnish forth Materials enow;
And that this Center, to raise such a place
Was far to little, to haue beene the Base;
No more affoords this worlds, foundatione
[Page 40]To erect true ioye, were all the meanes in one.
But as the Heathen made them seuerall gods,
Of all Gods Benefits, and all his Rods,
(For as the Wine, and Corne, and Onions are
Gods vnto them, so Agues bee, and war)
And as by changing that whole precious Gold
To such small copper coynes, they lost the old,
And lost their onely God, who euer must
Be sought alone, and not in such a thrust,
So much mankind true happinesse mistakes;
No Ioye enioyes that man, that many makes.
[Page 41]Then, soule, to thy first'pitch worke vpon againe;
Know that all lines which circles doe containe,
For once that they the center touch, do touch
Twice the circumference; and be thou such.
Double on Heauen, thy thoughts on Earth emploid;
All will not serue; Onely who haue enioyd
The sight of God, in fulnesse, can thinke it;
For it is both the obiect, and the wit.
This is essentiall ioye, where nei­ther hee
Can suffer Diminution, nor wee;
Tis such a full, and such a filling good;
[Page 42]Had th'Angels once look'd on him, they had stood.
To fill the place of one of them, or more,
Shee whom we celebrate, is gone before.
Shee, who had Here so much es­sentiall ioye.
As no chance could distract, much lesse destroy;
Who with Gods presence was ac­quainted so,
(Hearing, and speaking to him) as to know
His face, in any naturall Stone, or Tree,
Better then when in Images they bee:
Who kept, by diligent deuo­tion,
Gods Image, in such repara­tion,
[Page 43]Within her heart, that what decay was growen,
Was her first Parents fault, and not her own:
Who being solicited to any Act,
Still heard God pleading his safe precontract;
Who by a faithfull confidence, was here
Betrothed to God, and now is mar­ried there,
Whose twilights were more cleare, then our mid day,
Who dreamt deuoutlier, then most vse to pray;
Who being heare fild with grace, yet stroue to bee,
Both where more grace, and more capacitee
At once is giuen: shee to Heauen is gone,
[Page 44]Who made this world in some proportion
A heauen, and here, became vnto vs all,
Ioye, (as our ioyes admit) essen­tiall.
But could this low world ioyes es­sentiall touch,
Of acciden­tall ioyes in both places.
Heauens accidentall ioyes would passe them much.
How poore and lame, must then our casuall bee?
If thy Prince will his subiects to call thee
My Lord, and this doe swell thee, thou art than,
By being a greater, growen to be lesse Man,
When no Physician of Reders can speake,
A ioyfull casuall violence may breake
[Page 45]A dangerous Apostem in thy brest;
And whilst thou ioyest in this, the dangerous rest,
The bag may rise vp, and so stran­gle thee.
What eie was casuall, may euer bee.
What should the Nature change? Or make the same
Certaine, which was but casuall, when it came?
All casuall ioye doth loud and plainly say,
Onely by comming, that it can away.
Onely in Heauen ioies strength is neuer spent;
And accidentall things are per­manent.
Ioy of a soules arriuall neere decaies;
[Page 46]For that soule euer ioyes, and euer staies.
Ioy that their last great Consum­mation
Approches in the resur­rection;
When earthly bodies more cele­stiall
Shalbe, then Angels were, for they could fall;
This kind of ioy doth euery day ad­mit
Degrees of grouth, but none of loosing it.
In this fresh ioy, tis no small part, that shee,
Shee, in whose goodnesse, he that names degree,
Doth iniure her; (Tis losse to be cald best,
There where the stuffe is not such as the rest)
[Page 47]Shee, who left such a body, as euen shee
Onely in Heauen could learne, how it can bee
Made better; for shee rather was two soules,
Or like to full, on both sides writ­ten Rols,
Where eies might read vpon the outward skin,
As strong Records for God, as mindes within,
Shee, who by making full perfecti­on grow,
Peeces a Circle, and still keepes it so,
Long'd for, and longing for'it, to heauen is gone,
Where shee receiues, and giues addition.
Here in a place, where mis-deuo­tion frames
Conclusion.
[Page 48]A thousand praiers to saints, whose very names
The ancient Church knew not, Heauen knowes not yet,
And where, what lawes of poetry admit,
Lawes of religion, haue at least the same,
Immortall Maid, I might inroque thy name.
Could any Saint prouoke that ap­petite,
Thou here shouldst make mee a french conuertite.
But thou wouldst not; nor wouldst thou be content,
To take this, for my second yeeres true Rent,
Did this Coine beare any other stampe, then his,
That gaue thee power to doe me, to say this.
[Page 49]Since his will is, that to poste­ritee,
Thou shouldest for life, and death, a patterne bee,
And that the world should notice haue of this,
The purpose, and th'Autority is his;
Thou art the Proclamation; and I ame
The Trumpet, at whose voice the people came.
FINIS.

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