SACRED POEMS, OR Briefe Meditations, Of the day in generall and of all the dayes in the weeke.

Psalme 90.12.

Teachus (O Lord) so to number our dayes' that we may apply our hearts unto wisedome.

[printer's or publisher's device]

LONDON, Printed by E. Griffin. 1641.

TO The Right Worshipfull, his Honoured, and loving Master Sir IAMES CAMBELL Knight, and Senior Alderman of the Citie of London; one of his Majesties Justices of peace for the said Citie, Mayor of the Staple at Westminster, President of the Hospitall of Saint Thomas in Southwark, and Governour of the Company of Merchants trading into France:
EDWARD BROWNE, Presenteth these fruits of his Poeticall Me­ditations: with his daily prayers to God, for increase and continuance of health, and Prosperitie in this Life; and eternall felicity in the life to come.

RIght worshipfull: I have been very bold,
My mind to you though rashly to unfold,
At this time, since I meane no more to write,
Such fruitlesse lines, to come unto your sight:
I'm bold to use a learned Poets skill;
(Though farre unfit for my unlearned quill)
Onely to manifest my thankfull hart:
For what God, by you, on me, doth impart.
Therefore I pray; accept this little Booke,
Yet I acknowledge, tis not worth your looke;
Because tis framed by unskilfull wit,
And yet againe, the matter that's in it,
Would crave inspection of iudicious eyes:
But that my infant Muse, could not devise
To frame, compose, and write, such learned Rimes
As fit your worth (in these most curious times)
And sacred things, which I here take in hand
To illustrate; which well to understand,
Declare, and (fully) to describe the same,
Would 'maze the head, of the most learned Braine.
Then how can I, that am in wit so bare,
In any wise, such holy things declare?
Yet what the learned, from Gods word have showne,
I have presumed, herein to make knowne;
To manifest, how I spend my spare time
In Poetry, although by ragged Rime.
Therefore, because I know you onely are
My dearest friend and have of me great care,
I here present you this my little skill,
Full of Affection, voyd of smallest ill;
And if you please, to read it to the end
I hope it shall not justly you offend;
For at the first, when I began to write,
I did compose it for mine owne delight;
But when I read it I therein did see,
A little spark of sacred Poetry,
Also, I have observ'd, you doe of late,
Delight to read, more then in former state.
This did induce me to become so bold,
My Talent in your lap thus to unfold,
Prayi g your Worship herein to passe by
The faults I doe commit unwittingly:
For Gods great aid herein, I'll render prayse,
And of your courteous Candor rest alwayes,
Your humble and Gratefull Servant, EDWARD BROWNE.

An Acrostick Proem. To his kind and Loving Master and vertuous Lady.

SIR,
IN this small Booke, (though rudely) I have showne
According to my Art, and skill,
Many unfruitfull fancies of my owne:
Each of them shewes my true good will.
Sith better pledges I have none,
Can make thy Gratitude well knowne.
And I doe hope, you will accept this mite,
More for th'intent, then for the thing;
Because I writ it, onely for delight,
Endevouring thereby to bring
Little sweet Honey to the Hive,
Like to the Bee; to show I thrive.
Rashly herein, I doe confesse I take
A skillfull Learned Poets quill,
'Cause I unlearned am, nor know to make
Holy Sonnets free from ill
Every verse doth show my folly,
Little worth, in Melancholy.
Charge mee therefore with what is writ amisse,
And if that any good is done,
My God of that, the onely Authour is,
Because the Fountaine makes streames run,
Ev'n to refresh our minds, and make us [...]l [...]st▪
Like to Gods Saints: And thus I ever rest,
Your Faithfull and Obedient Servant, EDWARD BROWNE.

Praesentatio Gratificationis 25. dic Martii. 1640.

THis day some say; did our Lord God begin
This Worlds round Globe to make and to c [...]eate;
And in this moneth comes in the fragrant spring,
Therefore the learn'd, almost in every state,
Begin their Bookes, and Reckonings on this day;
To shew how pretious time doth haste away.
Therefore I also, though my learning's small,
Begin this yeare to shew my thankfull heart,
My light grew dimme, my Oyle was wasted all,
But Divine Bartas helped me in part:
For out of his None-such, and holy weeke,
I was faine many flowers for to seek:
Which I Inserted in my weekly dayes,
And by a Prick, you'll know my sacred Pelfe;
Because I would not take unto my praise,
Anothers worth to my unlearned selfe,
I borrowed his, to make this presentation,
A perfect, and compleat Gratification.

A Prayer to God.

OH Holy God, Thou knowst my heart is vaine,
My words are sinfull, and my workes profane:
And men of Bethshemesh, because they did
Looke in the Ark, by thee were stricken dead;
And Uzza, but for staying it upright,
When it did shake, thou there to death didst smite;
How dare I then presume to write or speake
Of holy things, being so vile and weake?
Yet I doe know by thy most sacred writ,
I must acknowledge the great benefit,
I have received from thee, and thereof talke
As I doe stand or goe, or sit or walk;
Therefore I crave of thee assisting might,
For out of darknesse, thou canst make true light
To shine and blaze, O be thou ever still,
Guider and framer of my perverse will:
That thy bright glory may shine in these Rimes,
To stirre up better wits in after-times,
To frame, compose and make a perfect story,
Of temporall blessings and eternall glory.

19. Psalme ult.

Let the words of my mouth and the Meditations of my heart, be (now and ever) acceptable in thy sight O Lord; my strength, and my Redeemer.

A MEDITATION OF THE DAY.

HOw fraile and Brittle is the life of man!
He that lives longest liveth but a span;
Our pretious time so vainely we doe spend,
That as a day it commeth to an end.
The morning of our life is childish youth,
The noone time is our Manhood at full growth;
The ev'ning of our Life is froward Age,
And thus we walke on in our Pilgrimage;
The dawning of our life we waste like Boyes,
In foolish vanities and Idle toyes;
The middle of our age, our strength and might.
Wee should enforce to serve God day and night:
That so at last, when this lises day shall cease,
Wee in the Earths cold Bed may sleepe in peace;
Thus fatall sisters three take daily paine
To spin, to weave, and cut mans life [...]n Twaine,
Kind hearted Clotho, spins mans life to strength;
Discreete Lachesis weaves its bredth and length,
And cruell Atropos with her sharpe knife.
Doth cut the Thred of his Age loathed life;
Loe thus, this life is but a summer flower:
Springs up, spreds bravely, and sheds in an houre;
And Proteus-like we oft doe shift our shapes
From Kids to Goates, from Goates to wrinckled Apes;
For Mans lif's water clos'd in Brittle Glasse;
Sin brought in death, and death as he doth passe,
Survayes this water weakly wal'd about,
Then breakes the Glasse, so runnes the water out;
Oh that I could be like the glorious Sun,
Who doth rejoyce his lightsome Race to run,
And shineth brighter to the perfect day:
Then should I likewise in a vertuous way
Begin, and in the same still persevere;
Thus should I spend the day, the weeke, and yeare.

Of the Morning Light.

FIrst in the morning when I ope mine eye,
If it be light, me thinkes I doe espie
A glimps of Glory: But if darksome night
Be not orepast, then doe I close my sight,
And musing thinke of that eternall horrour,
Where is no comfort, but dismaying rerrour;
Then doe I muse on the materiall lights
That God prepared hath to helpe our sights;
The Sun, the Moone, the Starres and twinkling Tapers,
That men invent which vanish into vapours;
And with these Temp'rall lights, mee thinks I see
That spirituall light hath great Affinity,
And this Spirituall light's Illumination
From Divine knowledge by Gods Inspiration,
The hea [...]hens knowledge is much like the light,
That men doe make to helpe their darkned sight,
Whereby they know there is a God, that hee
Doth punish vice, Crownes those that vertuous bee;
The Jewes light's the Divine and holy Law,
Which as the sages star their hearts might draw
And drive to Christ, whom they doe daily see
In Types and figures shaddowed to be;
The Papists Knowledge is most like the Moone,
Which they doe borrow from the Gospells Sun.
But Truth's so wrapped in blind errours lap.
As clouds their light and shewes their hard mishap;
But knowledge in our Land is like the rayes
Of the bright Sun which shineth at noone dayes,
Free'd from all foggs and mysts of E [...]rours vaine,
And unto all men open cleare and plaine.
Oh what confused horrour dread and feare,
Should wee in our distressed bodies beare,
If but depriv'd of light for a few dayes;
Wherefore we have great cause to give God praise,
Not onely for this temp'rall changing light,
But much more for the glorious Gospells sight.

Of Vp rising.

WHen I doe heare the dauntlesse watchfull Cock,
And that same Bell which rings at five a clock.
There comes into my mind, the fearefull call
Of the last Trump, which then shall summon all
Man-kind to rise out of the earths cold Bed;
And when that when I doe reare my drowzie head,
I musing thinke of the most glorious sight
Of Saints and Angels in the Celestiall light;
Oh Lord (I pray) G [...]ant I may dayly rise
From sins loath'd Bed, and foule impieties,
That I may walke as a Child of the day,
In vertuous light and in a pious way,
That at the last, when this [...]raste flesh shall be
Disrobed of corruption, and set free
From Passions thrall, which now in mee are bred,
I may with joy lift up my troubled head,
And in a moment, in celeshall light,
Behold the lustre, and the glorious sight
Of our good God, who is in persons three,
And yet in Essence but one God is hee;

Of putting on Apparell.

WHen I array my selfe, then doe I muse,
How in a spirituall habit, I should use
To deck and cloth my selfe, so, every day
That I might never feare the fatall fray,
Of the worlds Baites, and the fraile fleshes Charmes,
Which may allure and bring me in the Armes
Of Satans power, who doth daily seeke
Me to devoure; that am both poore and weake;
First on my hart I should fast fix the Love
Of God and holy things that are above,
Then should I gird my Loynes with truths sure cord
Which I must gather from Gods holy word:
Then should I arme my Breast in warlike state,
With righteous life, as with an Iron plate,
And on my head I should keepe sure and fast
Salvation, as a Helme that ay will last;
And for the feet of my corrupt affections,
I should have shooes of such Divine directions,
As in the sacred Gospell written are,
My wayes in Piety thus to prepare:
Then with good workes, take up the shield of faith,
Which will (as the most holy Scripture saith)
Blunt, dull, and beat back all the firy Darts
Of Satans malice, whose aime's at the harts
Of poore weake Men: thus should I armed bee
Against that wrathfull watchfull enemy.
If that I were thus armed strong before,
And yet behind were naked thin and poore,
I thought that I might wounded be behind.
But to prevent this I should bend my mind,
To be as watchfull with a restlesse eye,
As my foe's carefull, quick to see and spie,
Both where and how he layes his trecherous traynes,
That so I might frustiate his too great paines,
By taking in my hand the two edg'd Sword,
Of Gods keene-cutting and sharpe-piercing word,
And therewith cutting off this Hidrae's head,
Which not (so) pruned would so hugely spread,
That almost no resistance could be found,
To bring this great Goliah to the ground;
If I could dayly thus my selfe adorne,
And in this habit, dresse me every morne;
Then should I neither dread the cold nor heat,
Of chilling Poverty, or fiery threat
Of wrathfull Tyrants, neither would I feare,
Sin, death or hell o're me should dominere;
But I should alwayes be in blissefull plight,
Well Cloth'd and healthfull as a Child of light;
Oh Lord (I pray thee) Cloth me with thy spirit,
That I may neither feare cold Winters night,
Nor Summers heat: so let me ever be
Clothed with Christ; my wedding garment's hee.

Of Mans Labour.

AS I doe walke abroad, my mind's at strife,
To see how all men, in this mortall life,
Take care and travell to prolong their dayes,
Upon the earth by many severall wayes,
And how Artificers with nimble wit
A hundred Rarities compose and fit
For sev'rall uses, how the husbandman
Doth plough and sow, and Reape, and thresh, & fan▪
Most like the Ant in Summers scorching heat,
Who labours hardly for his Winters meat:
Another he tugs hard against the tide,
His laden vessell longst a Rivers side;
The Merchant he doth take great care and paines,
To venture farre, and sometimes gets small gaines;
The Trades man in his darke shop puts to sale,
His broken wares with many a famed Tale:
And preachers they doe cry to beat downe sin,
Till they be hoarse, and little good they win;
The Magistrate should strive with all his might
The guilty to adjudge, the wrong'd to right:
The Scholar he doth set his Braines and wit
To get some knowledge, though small benefit;
And thus each man in his peculiar way
Is troubled and incombred every day,
To get provision for this brittle life,
Although sometimes with envy and much strife;
Oh happy then are they who now are dead!
From all these troubles they are ever free'd,
Yet by this same I can most plainely see
What Portion Adam left posteritie,
That by hard labour and their bodies sweat,
They all must labour to procure their meat.
And he that doth not thus for his provide,
It is not fit on earth he should abide,
But like a carelesse Idle slouthfull droane,
Out of the Hive It's fit he should be throwne:
For why should he of the sweet Honey eat,
That the poore Bee with labour hard did get;
If wee doe (as wee should) take such great paine
To prop, preserve this life, that's fraile and vaine;
Oh how should wee then put our selves to taske
To get and gaine that life, which ay will last!
If for our bodies health wee oft will spare
Our most delicious and delightfull fare,
Shall wee for our Soules health grudge or repine
To fast from sinne or else refuse to dine?
If for our profit we the paines thinke small
To bend and crouch, to prate, to cry and call;
Shall we thinke much unto the Lord to pray
With hearty voyce and humble mind alway?
If the poore Smith does thinke it no great Toyle,
Over the fire in smoake to burne and broyle,
Shall wee, if when the Lord thinkes good to try
Our constant faith, in flames refuse to dye?
Oh Lord, I doe confesse my feet are slow,
My heeles are heavy, and refuse to goe
Into thy holy house, thy word to heare,
And in my body I sloths Image beare:
My hands are Idle, and my eyes are lazie:
My heart is dull, my lips to laud thee crazie;
Wherefore (I pray) Infuse into my minde,
Such heav'nly grace, that I may be inclinde
To labour and take care for heav'nly food,
More then for any fading earthly Good.
So when this life shall cease, I may be blest,
And live with God in a perpetuall rest.

Of Eating and Drinking.

IF that our bodyes want due food to eat,
How doe we labour straight to find out meat?
Or if with cruell thirst we be possest,
Till we find drinke we cannot be at rest,
Oh this should teach me after Grace to long,
Which is the Soules Refection to prolong
My spirituall life, and never be at rest,
Till with such meat and drinke my Soul's refresht▪
And when I doe behold the great provision,
For earthly Bodies from Gods loving Mission,
How that all creatures for our food are slaine,
Oh Lord (thinke I) If for this life that's vaine,
There's such provision in such sundry kind,
For life eternall, to refresh the mind,
There's as great plenty and as various store,
Of spirituall dainties, If not far much m [...]re;
My daily food should be Christs holy body,
Which by the mouth of faith I swallow wholy,
To strengthen and refresh my sinfull minde,
That I may at the last true comfort finde;
My drinke should be my Saviours pretious blood,
Which quencheth sinfull thirst; & doth much good
For all my sins, It would wash quite away;
Oh this should be my bread and drink all day,
That at the last, when as the dismall night
Of death shall come, in heav'n I may shine bright:
My Salt should be the sanctifying Grace,
Of Gods good sp'rit, which I should ever place,
Upon the Table of a pious hart,
That I there with may season every part
Of all my sinfull thoughts, my words and deeds,
And every evill lust which in mee breeds;
Yea this should be the ordinary food
Of my poore soule for her eternall good;
But yet at severall times there's sundry dishes
Of Beasts, of Birds, of divers Herbs and fishes.
In prosperous state there is the loving Hinde,
Who having eas'd his fellowes goes behinde:
The charitable Storke and temp rate Swallow,
The loving Prawne and pearle fish, they may follow
In this same messe, to teach men of great might
Gentle sobriety to doe poore right.
But if Adversity become our state,
The first dish is a Lambe immaculate,
The patient Sheepe, the gall-lesse harmlesse Dove,
In this same messe should likewise have our love.
Th'industrious Bee, the nimble painfull Ant,
The milke-white Lilly this messe should not want;
And many other things of precious kinde,
Which I can hardly bring into my minde.
And all to teach, that in a cause that's good,
It is a glorious thing to spend our blood,
And to beare patiently Gods chastising hand,
Like Iob at last more strenuously to stand,
At all times else, there is much spirituall meate,
For our poore soules. But I cannot repeate
One halfe or quarter of this great variety,
It is enough if I can finde saciety
In the least crum of any heavenly Grace,
That after I have finisht this lifes race,
I may in heaven keepe a continuall feast
With Christ my Saviour in eternall rest.

Of the Night.

HOw soone doth darksome night succeed light day;
By this I know I have not long to stay
In this fraile life, which doth so quickly hast,
That as a day it selfe doth spend and wast:
But what need I to feare deaths gastly face,
For I am young, and in a healthfull case.
I have not yet arrived to high noone,
For I in yeeres am scarsly thirty one:
Yet what of that? for this same very night
God may bereave mee of to morrowes light:
For cruell death, with his impartiall knife,
Doth cut the thread of mans most wretched life,
Before that ten or twenty yeere's expir'd
In this fraile life, whereby I am requir'd
To take due notice, that ere long may be,
Deaths dart may make as quick dispatch of me.
And now because I undertake to write
Of the similitude of darksome night,
I doe desire of God that I could tell
Blinde errors paths, and the dread paines of hell,
My selfe thereby to warne to take great heed
That in blind errors wayes I may not tread:
For they will lead me to the darke Abysse
Of dolefull horror where no comfort is:
And error in its selfe's so smooth a way,
That the best falleth in it every day.
It is a maze, which if we once get in
Out of the same it's hard to get agin,
And he that in it very often wanders,
Shall finde a troope of crooked sly Meanders.
But I will bring them into these two kindes;
Errors in life, ignorance of mens mindes.
And here at first my senses are at strife,
For who can tell the errors of this life?
To such a countlesse number they doe grow,
That my Arithmeticke them cannot show.
The errors that in my poore soule are bred
Doe farre exceed the haires upon my head.
If my sins rise to such a summe alone,
Who can the totall of all sins make knowne?
Under sev'n Captaines they doe march in fight,
Pride, lechery, and envious hatefull spite,
Cruell man-killing wrath, beastly excesse
In meat and drinke, sloth, greedy cov'tousnesse.
These are the chiefe wayes: but there's many more
Crooked by-paths that leade men to the dore
Of utter darkenesse, for they doe delight
To act their deeds i'th darke, and out of sight.
So Hazael, when he was left alone,
Kild Benhadad, that it might not be knowne.
Achan did also hide his thievish pelfe,
Because that none should know it but himselfe.
Th' Adulterer waites also for twilight,
That he may act his sinne out of mens sight.
And the deceiver in his darke shop vents
His broken wares, that none knowes his intents.
And ev'ry sinner doth ev'n hate the light,
Because it sheweth sinnes deformed sight.
But I have here almost forgot to write
Of blindfold ignorance that hates the light:
Yet under two sorts I can briefly show
How she likewise in croked wayes doth goe.
The one constrain'd, the other's wilfull blinde;
And these I call the errors of the minde:
Their case is pitifull that never heard
True saving knowledge, but from it debard:
Such are unfaithfull Jewes, Turks, Infidels,
Blinde Papists, and many rude nations else.
That as yet never saw the glorious sight
Of sacred Truth, shewd in the Gospell bright.
But others that doe wilfully refuse,
Such are the Jesuits, and the leained Jewes,
And Protestants, who like the Israelite,
This holy Manna greatly scorne and slight:
There is a woe denounced against them,
As was' gainst Bethsaida and Corazin.
As in the day wilde beasts doe keepe in caves,
Because the light should not descry their wayes;
But in the Night, then doe they hunt and range
After their preys, most cruell, fierce and strange:
So in the dawning of the Gospels light,
When that Starre Edward in this Sphea [...]e shin'd bright.
The murth'rous Papists, cruell, fierce and fell,
In caves and holes were then constrain'd to dwell.
But when the Moone began her head to reare,
In this blest Isl [...]nds glorious Hemispheare,
This light eclipsed was, and there did swarme
Papists, like Locusts, which did doe great harme
Unto Gods Church, by faggots, fiery flame,
To shew in smoky darknesse they remaine:
For such apparently walke in the darke,
Because they greatly doe mistake the marke
Of saving Truth, whose path-wayes are most bright.
But here I must remember now to write
Of that same darknesse which for ay doth dwell
In that most horrid dolefull place call'd hell.
And 'tis no wonder, though I feare to show
What horror in that darke Abysse doth grow:
For thought thereof doth make my heart to ake,
My body tremble, and my hand to shake:
Besides, it passeth all that I can thinke,
How shall I shew it then with Pen and Inke?
For I am weake in judgement, sicke in braine,
Then why should I adventure so in vaine
To describe that no man can well expresse,
Though ne'r so learned, yet neverthelesse
By some conjectures learned men can tell
What horrid darknesse is in that same Cell.
And what from Gods Words literate men have showne
I will not feare in this place to make knowne.
First I will write of the great cause of feare,
Then of the punishments that are used there,
Besides the Majesty of God offended,
The mercy we receive, and have mispended,
The long forbearance of his wrathfull stroke,
Should unto godly feare our hearts provoke,
Feare to offend him by our grievous crimes,
Feare to displease him in all place and times:
The very darknesse which is in that place
Would in dread horror ev'n confound our face:
For if the stoutest man should be alone,
Naked and bare in a darke place unknowne,
And there should heare the noyse of ugly sp'rits,
Hissings of Serpents, and the dismall sights
Of tortured soules, would he not quake and feare,
Although no stripes he on himselfe did beare?
And such thicke darknesse was the Egyptians night,
Who in three dayes could not descry the light.
But now to be tormented in the darke,
It's past expression, Pray fit downe and marke.
Oh! wretched man, come, sit thee downe by me,
Thinke with my thoughts, and see what I doe see;
As Bal [...]'m shew'd to Balack Isacks race,
So will I shew thee the most damned trace
Of hellish torments from the learned fables
Of Poets old, yet take them not for bables.
For I doe hope in thee and me 'twill breed
Such godly feare, that so we may take heed
To shun those wayes that lead us to the place
Wher's utter darknesse, and no light of Grace.
M [...]thinks I see grim Pluto calls his Court,
With Proserpine he sits in dreadfull sort
Upon a chaire of fire, in ugly forme,
As blacke as hell, yet was a Starre o'th morne:
Then I see Cerberus that triple dog
Who seemes more terrible than Gogmagog:
'Then after him from fiery Phlegeton
'Comes Alecto, Meger', and Tesiphon.
'Oh then what heare I? wondrous thundring blowes,
'Alas, what yells, what howles what dismall showes?
'There Eccho made whole hell to tremble troubled,
'The drowsie night her deepe darke horrors doubled,
'And suddenly Avernus gulfe did swim
'With Rosin, Pitch, and Brimstone to the brim,
'And ugly Gorgons, and the Sphinxes fell,
'Hidraes and Harpies 'gan to yawne and yell,
'One lifting's lungs, hisses, and barkes and brayes;
'This howles, that yels, another roares and neighs.
'Such a blacke song, such a confused sound
'From many-headed bodies doth rebound,
'Like Guns astuns, with round round-rumbling thunder,
'Filling the ayre with noyse, the earth with wonder.
Till at the last, pawsing a while they staid,
And suddenly with great confusion made
A flight at man, all at intestine strife,
Who might most torture his detested life.
Then at command of Pluto's dreadfull call
Each one unto his worke did quickly fall,
And then I saw proud Icarus tumbled downe,
Under fiends feete that wrought above the crowne,
And all because he thought to sore on high,
His waxen wings were cut, and he did ly
Despis'd, contemn'd, dishonour'd and disgrac'd,
Although on earth he was so highly plac'd.
See drunken Tantalus doth rore for thirst,
Yet to his chin in water so accurst
He lies and howles, and cannot get a tast
And dying lives, yet's dying life doth last.
See how the Glutton cryes, and longs for meate,
Yet Sodom's Apples he doth daily eate.
It seemes they doe not fill his hungry maw,
But looke, I pray, see how that beast doth gnaw
Upon the envious wretch, see how his heart
Is eaten by the Viper, and each part
Of all his body is so thin and bare,
Nothing but skin and bones upon him are.
See how that lazie slave doth turne the wheele,
And yet that ugly fiend doth make him feele
The smarting lashes of his knotty whip,
Which makes his hands to worke, his legs to skip.
But see the lecherous man ev'n shake for cold,
And yet in flames of fire I him behold.
Oh horrid torment! never yet descryde
That one should frieze by such a fire side.
The covetous wretch I saw cramm'd to the full
Of burning brimstone. Oh 'tis wonderfull
To marke how he is paid in the same coyne
That did oppresse the weake, the poore purloyne.
But harke, what heare I? doleful shrikes and cryes
Of him that's alway's kild, yet never dies.
Its strange (me thinkes) so many dangerous darts
Should not destroy their bloody murth'rous hearts:
But 'tis not strange, for the great God above
to shew his justice and expresse his love,
To chuse a place as well for to torment
The wilfull sinner and impenitent,
As to prepare a place of heav'nly state,
For his deare friends that are regenerate.
If then the Lord himselfe shall goe to reare
A place of torments, who shall that declare?
For if when God made fire for our delight,
It is so fierce, there's none would if he might
Gaine a whole Kingdome, hold his hand therein,
But for one houre. Oh then, what paine is in
The fire of hell! To which if I compare
The fire we have, it seemes but painted ayre:
Ours is for comfort, that is to torment;
Ours must be fed, else of it selfe it's spent;
That needs no fuell, but doth burne for ay:
Ours giveth light, and shines as bright as day,
That's alwayes darke, and is in its right place;
Ours ever shifts, and doth ascend apace:
Ours doth consume and rids quicke out of paine,
That consumes not; once there, ne'r out againe:
Our's soone extinct; that never doth abate
H [...]s heat, And yet (as I did show of late,
And as Christ saith) they shall gnash teeth and shake,
For very cold will make their bones to quake.
And as that fire is of such wondrous might,
So doth that darknesse farre exceed our night.
Now could I shew the universall paines,
And all th'eternall torture there remaines,
How Cerberus doth strongly keepe hels dore,
That none comes out, but may come in the more,
And how that Charon with dread horror grim
Over the Stigian lake his boat makes swim
Fild full of soules whom he hath got off shore,
O'r Sulphry Stix and makes them cry and rore;
I should but all this while shew paine of sense,
But there's great dammage in lost excellence,
Which is as great (as learned men doe show)
As paine of sense. But yet I doe not know
How to describe the losse of that bleft sight
Of Gods bright glory in celestiall light.
At thought whereof the damned have a worme
Which on their conscience gnawes and makes them mourne,
And when they thinke of that same heavenly light
That they have lost, this worme doth give a bite
Which causeth them to teare their flesh and haire,
And if they could, themselves in pieces teare.
Then doe they wish for mountaines, hills and rocks
To fall upon them, with such pondrous knocks,
That they might kill them; which when they deny,
They doe begin to howle, lament and cry,
And marvell, saying, what hath our pride got?
What profit hath glory of riches brought?
How easily might we have scap'd this place
By living well, and seeking helpe of grace?
Oh! if on earth we now could live againe,
We would feare God alone, and count as vaine
All other things in the vast worlds round ball,
And Gods bright glory should be all in all.
And thus they do repent without amends,
And still their paine begins, and never ends;
Then cease your talke of Pluto's darksome den,
That's but the idle fantasie of men,
But this is true, which in Gods word is showne,
That hellish paines to mortall man's not knowne,
Yet I doe wonder, that such learned skill
Should so divinely drop from heathens quill:
For as in Pluto's cave they well have showne,
Hels torments, as in Scripture is made knowne,
So heavenly blisse in Iupiters high court,
And in Elizium fields they make report
In their prophanest fabled histories,
By Hercules they shew Christs victories,
Long before Christ was borne, which makes me muse
That they should know almost as much as Jewes,
Who were Gods chosen; but where doe I goe?
This in some other place I meane to show.
And now, that I am thus come out of hell,
Safe and unhurt from all those furies fell,
In the last place I did intend to write
Of the great benefits we have by night.
But my dull Muse grew barren, thin and bare,
I therefore borowed his whose fruits are rare.
'The night to temper dayes exceeding drought,
'Moystens our ayre, and makes our earth to sprout.
'The night is she that all our travels caseth,
'Buries our cares, and all our griefes appeaseth.
'The night is she, that (with her sable wing,
'In gloomy darknesse hushing every thing)
'Through all the world dumb silence doth distill,
'And wearyed bones with quiet sleepe doth fill.
'Sweet night, without thee, without thee (alas!)
'Our life were loathsome, even a hell to passe:
'For outward paines and inward passions still,
'With thousand deaths, would soule and body kill.
'Oh Night! thou pullest the proud maske away,
'Wherewith vaine actors in this worlds great play,
'By day disguise them, for no difference,
'Night makes betweene the Peasant and the Prince,
'The poore, the rich, the Prisoner and the Judge,
'The foule and faire, the Master and the drudge,
'The foole and wise, Barbarian and the Greeke;
'For Night's black Mantle covers all alike;
'He that, condemn'd for some notorious vice,
'Seekes in the Mines the Baites of Avarice;
'Or, swelting at the furnace, fineth bright,
'Our Soules dire sulphur, [...]esteth yet at night:
'Hee that still stooping tugges against the Tide
'His laden barge alongst a Rivers side,
'And filling shoares with shouts, doth melt him quite,
'Upon his Pallat resteth yet at night;
'He that in Summer, in extreamest heat,
'Scorched all day in his owne scalding sweat,
'Shaves with keene Syth, the glory and delight
'Of motly Meddowes, resteth yet at night,
'And in the Armes of his deare Pheere forgoes
'All former troubles and all former woes;
'Onely the learned Sisters sacred Minions,
'While silent night under her sable Pinions,
'Folds all the world, with painlesse paine they tread
'A sacred path, that to the heav'ns doth lead;
'And higher then the heav'ns their Readers raise
'Upon the wings of their immortall layes.
And now (me thinks) I heare the clock doth chime,
Which doth informe me that it is high time,
Mee to uncloth and so to goe to bed,
For this dayes worke hath troubled my weak head.

Of unclothing.

HOw vaine a thing it is to vant in Pride,
Of brave Apparell, may be quickly tride:
For had old Adam never fallen from Blisse,
Of use of Cloaths wee nere had had much misse:
And he devis'd but leaves to hide the shame,
Which on himselfe by his foule folly came:
And God himselfe when hee did undertake
Some brave apparell for poore man to make,
To hide his shame, his liv'ry was but skin,
Of some poore beast, this Adams sin did win.
Wherefore the man that of brave Cloths is proud,
Doth as a Begger with a voyce most loud,
Extoll and magnifie his Rotten Rags,
Which hide his sores, and set them forth as flaggs
For all to gaze at, and to wonder why
Hee should set out his stincking Bravery.
Wherefore the Godly alwayes did not care,
What Clothes upon their bodies they did beare;
So it would keepe them from the heat and cold,
They were content, and I doe read of old,
The Saints Apparell, they arrayed were,
Was made of Goats skin, and of Cammells haire.
But men are now so curious for their back,
They'll Rob and spoyle all creatures ere they'll lack:
From one they'll take his wooll to make them cloth,
From others skin and fur: nay they're not loath,
To take the Excrements of the poore worme,
Which they into brave Silke and Sattin turne,
Then doe they begge of fish, Pearle for the Neck,
And find in Sea-sands pretious stones to deck
Their sinfull bodies, then they take great paines
To Digg and delve in Earth for Golden gaines;
And when they have this borrowed Treasure got,
About the streets they jet, and frisk, and trot,
Provoking others thus to looke on them,
Deeming themselves better than other men.
But greater folly than this is not knowne,
For one to boast of that is not his owne.
Yet thus have I too oft done, and was glad
When I brave Cloths upon my body had;
Therefore I'll now put off this Pedlers pack,
Which all this day hath burden'd thus my back;
Could I as quickly put off my foule sin.
And in new Robes of Grace my Soule put in,
As I can cast these filthy Rags aside,
That from mens eyes my sinfull shame doth hide,
Then should I be receiv'd a welcome Ghest,
Of Christ my Saviour, to his glorious feast,
Where Angells, Patriarkes and Prophets old,
Apostles, Martyrs, and the Saints doe hold,
A feast of Joy, thus should I then be blest,
In Robes of Glory in eternall Rest.

Of Sleepe.

SLeepe is the Image and Picture of Death,
In which wee seeme sencelesse and voyd of breath;
The Bed seemes as the Grave in which we lay
Our bodyes mould which turnes to dust and Clay;
And to the Saints death's truly but a sleepe,
That doth refresh their minds and safely keepe,
Their wearyed Soules, which when they were awake
I meane alive very great paines did take,
To serve the Lord, for which they hated were,
By wicked men, who bended all their care,
To persecute, oppresse, and doe them wrong,
Therefore they doe greatly desire and long,
To be dissolved and to be with Christ,
In whom their joy and quiet doth consist;
Besides Christ warmed hath the earths cold bed
For his beloved, when he laid his head
To rest three dayes therein, and hath oft cald
Death but a sleepe, once to a Jew enthrall'd
Foure dayes in grave: then did he groan and weepe,
And said, friend Lazarus doth sweetly sleepe;
And of the Ruler Iayrus his dead daughter,
He said shee slept, which moved some to laughter,
And holy Martyres went as cheerefully,
To take their death, as in Rose beds to ly,
Because they knew death to be but a sleepe,
Which doth refresh their Soules, and bodies keepe
Safe and unhurt unto that glorious day,
When they shall rise to live with Christ foray;
But unto wicked men, death is a Terrour,
Which to remember, fills their Soules with horrour;
If then the thought of death their minds affright,
How will they be amaz'd to feele his might,
When he doth strike them with his deadly Dart,
How loth will then the Soule from body part,
Because like friends they liv'd on Earth in Joy,
Well clad, well fed, and felt not much annoy;
Now if a man to mortifie one part
Of his weake body, In such deadly smart
Is put unto, that makes him groane and cry,
Oh then what will be the great misery,
For him to suffer, when through every limb
He feeles deaths pangs fiercely assayling him!
First from extreame parts, Fingers, Feet, and Toes,
Then Leggs and Armes, and so in order goes
Through every Joynt, Veine, Muscle, Sinew, Bone,
Till at the heart it rests, and there alone,
(Like a besiedged Prince) his Soule lookes out,
For helpe of friends, whom shee did little doubt,
Would so forsake her, in her extreame need,
To wit, Youth, Physick, helplesse friends indeed:
Then doth she greatly feare tremble and quake,
Expecting hourely, when the fiend will take
Her wretched selfe: And then when shee doth see
The flattring Doctor parted with his fee,
The weeping of his wife, the losse of all,
Jewells and brave apparell, that's not small,
Griefe and vexation to his wretched mind,
That all his wealth he so must leave behind,
Which hee did gather with such griefe and ca [...]e,
To serve the Lord he had no time to spare:
And lastly, now to thinke what will become,
Of Soule and body, how the noysome worme,
Serpents and Vermin shall take for their food,
That dainty body which he thought too good,
To tread on earth or to come in the aire,
This will almost drive him into despaire;
But when he thinks his Soule must come before
Hearts searching Judge, and when he sees the score,
Of his great sins, which his own conscience showes,
And hath not where to pay, for well hee knowes,
He did not show his faith by living well,
And therefore doth deserve nothing but hell:
Which when the Soule doth thinke on, slavish feare,
In wicked men doe bring them to despaire,
Which causeth them to fret, to howle, and cry,
To thinke how blisse they lost, in hell they'll lye
For evermore, in torments past expression:
But all this while I have made a digression,
From what I did intend at first to write;
It seemes I am misled by darksome night,
Of bad mens deaths, in which they cannot sleepe,
For hellish fiends their Soules awake doe keepe;
Therefore I'll pray to God, that he may keepe
My Soule and body, so that I may sleepe
In rest and peace, in bed as in my grave,
And that in Mercy hee would freely save,
Both Soule and body to that blessed day
Of resurrection, that in heav'n alway
I may with Saints and Angells shine as bright,
As doth the Sun, and praise God day and night.

Of the weeke.

THe wisedome of the Lord did first compose,
The week into seav'n dayes, as Moses showes,
Thereby to teach us how to spend our time,
In Meditation of his workes divine.
And in three weekes God hath his great workes showne,
The first is of the worlds creation,
In which the power and might of God appeares;
The next is preservation in the yeares,
And ages since, till this same very houre,
And the third weeke doth show his love and power,
In the Redemption of all-fallen mankind.
But I am weake in body, dull in minde,
So that not one of these I can declare,
As is befitting, for the best that are
May come farre short in such a sacred theame:
Therefore I onely doe intend and meane,
To shew each sev'rall dayes denomination,
And therein touch the workes of Gods creation.
And in this place I now will briefely speake,
Of mans fraile life, in Davids generall weeke;
For he divides the life of Mortall men,
Into sev'n parts, till threescore yeares and ten;
And therein I will show how pretious time
Is vainely spent, each age in one short Rime.
The first tenne yeares man is a harmelesse child,
And as a Lamb his life is meeke and milde;
But after that (Goat-like) he skips and Joyes,
In foolish vanities and Idle toyes,
And so till thirty man's an untam'd Colt,
Heady, and from all goodnes doth revolt;
And untill forty hee's a sturdy Bull,
His limbes are strong, with blood his veines are full,
But after that, his courage will not faile;
For as a Lyon then he will prevaile:
And then at fifty hee's a crafty Fox,
And Lawyer-like gets money in his Box.
And so till sev'nty by Industrious paines,
Woolfe-like hee's greedy to increase his gaines;
But after that he feeles his bones to tire,
Therefore much like the Dog he loves the fire,
And keeps at home like to the wyly Cat,
Where he delights to sit, to prate and chat;
Thus doth the Carnall man waste his lifes weeke,
And seldome doth after true Riches seeke;
I meane the wealth, which beyond Age will last,
And still endure after this life is past:
Therefore the Sages, That did first ordaine
And gave unto each day It's severall name,
Did well at first the nimblest Planet place,
And last of all that of the slowest race,
To shew that man in youthfull blithfull plight
In Grace and vertue should take most delight:
For painfull age cannot so well hold out
As lusty youth, yet still should goe about,
In vertues race, and not out of it start,
Till death doth strike him with his deadly dart;
Therefore I'll pray, that with the glorious sun,
I may rejoyce in vertues Race to run,
And with old Saturne therein persevere,
So should I well conclude the weeke and yeare.

Sunday or Dies Dominicus.

IN the Beginning and the Birth of time,
God made his glory and his power to shine,
In framing of the earth and heavens bright,
And the first day, God did create the light;
'Before which time, there was a confus'd heape,
'A formelesse Chaos did together keepe,
'A gulfe of gulfes, a body ill compa [...]t,
'An ugly medley, where all difference lackt:
'Where th' elements lay jumbled altogether,
'Where hot and cold were jarring each with either;
'The blunt with sharpe, the danke against the dry,
'The hard with soft, the base against the high;
'All all was voyd of beuty, rule and light,
'All without fashion, soule and motion quite.
'Fire was no fire, the water was no water,
'Ayre was no ayre, the earth no earthly matter.
'This was not then the world: 'twas but the matter,
'The Nurcery whence it should issue after;
Yet Gods great power did keep this darksome masse,
And on the waters did his spirit passe.
'And he no sooner said, Be light, but loe
'The formlesse lump to perfect forme 'gan grow:
'And all illustred with lights radiant shine,
'Doft mourning weeds, and deckt it passing fine.
'All haile pure lamp, bright, sacred, and excelling
'Sorrow and care, darknesse and dread repelling:
'Thou worlds great Taper, wicked mens just terror,
'Mother of Truth, true beauties onely mirror,
'Gods eldest daughter, Oh! how thou art full
'Of grace and goodnesse? Oh! how beautifull;
'Sith thy great Parent's all-discerning eye
'Doth judge thee so: and sith his Majesty
'(The glorious maker) in his sacred layes,
'Can doe no l [...]sse than sound thy modest praise.
'But yet, because all pleasures wax unpleasant,
'If without pause we still possesse them, present;
'And none can right discerne the sweets of peace,
'That have not felt w [...]rs irksome bitternesse;
'And Swans seeme whiter, if swart Crowes be by,
'(For contraries each other best descry.)
'Th'Alls Architect, alternately decreed,
'That Night the Day, the Day should Night succeed:
'So morne and evening the first day conclude,
'And God perceiv'd that all his works were good.
Therefore the learned, that each day did name
In the whole weekes (as I conceive) did aime
At the great works of God in the creation,
And so according set the Planets station.
For, first they set the Sunne bright Phoebus hight,
Who is the fountaine and the spring of light.
Also the Pots call him by the name
Of bright Apollo, whose illustrious fame
Was very great, he was the sonne of Iove,
He and Diana (his deare sister) strove
Within the Matrix of Latona faire,
And these two dayes and nights directors are:
Apollo for his skill in Poetry,
Physicke and Musique and Divinity
Was honour'd as a god by heathen men,
Such was the ignorance of those times then.
But why that others call Sol burning hot
Flaming bright Tytan, my weake judgement's not
Able to shew; but sure his mighty power
His names doe shew, ev'n every day and houre.
He governes Princes, and great men of state,
And is the Plannet that's most fortunate.
He is the dayes bright eye and heart of heav'n,
For God plac'd him in midst of Planet sev'n,
And in three hundred threescore daies and five,
Doth to the period of h [...]s race arrive:
By him we measure out to us and ours,
Yeeres, ages, seasons, moneths, dayes, minutes, houres,
And therefore well plac'd in the front of time,
But I have him eclips'd in this [...]ude rime.
Therefore I'll now conclude, lest Phaëton like
For taking such a taske great Iove may strike
Me in his wrath: therefore I'll hast away,
And speake a little of the Lords blest Day.
Me thinkes, none should make it a scruple, why
We disagree from Jewes solemnity
In keeping of the sacred Sabbath Day:
They're in the old, and we in a new way:
They have the old Law, and we have the new,
For state of Christians differs from the Jew.
Old things are past, and new are come in place,
Then why should we follow the Jewish race?
Besides, our Saviour is the Lord of dayes,
And therefore for his meritorious praise
Its very fit he should a day ordaine
His worship and his statutes to maintaine:
For in this world each Prince his subjects drawes
After his lore, for still New Lords new Lawes.
So now new Sacraments, new Heav'n, new Earth,
New Testament, and Sabbath Day sets forth,
How we do differ from the Levites law,
But of the morall we still stand in aw.
We know that shadowes now are past away,
Because from death their substance rose this day:
For now the ceremonies of the Jewes
Doe cease, yet on this day we alwayes use
To rest from labour, and vaine idle sport.
And to the Lords House we should oft resort,
There both to heare Gods Word divinely taught
By learned men, and also as we ought:
There we should pray, and sing with hearty cheare,
And not as some doe, sleepe when they should heare.
Then after Sermon we should call to minde,
What good instruction we therein did finde,
Into what parts, what doctrines, and what uses
Was made thereof, to checke the grosse abuses
Of mans fraile nature, and the consolation
Weake man doth need to stablish his salvation.
If I could thus the Lords Day sanctifie,
Delighting thus to heare, sing, pray purely,
And on the Lord set my whole minde and heart,
That all this day he might not from me part;
If I could as the Sunne begin to shine,
From youth to old age in all works divine;
If I could so distinguish and divide
Blind errors wayes from truths bright paths well try'd,
And well approv'd of God, and all good men,
For graces splendor I might shun the den
Of utter darknesse: then I should be blest,
And keepe a Sabbath in eternall rest.

Munday, or dies Lunae.

THe next day after God had made the light,
He spread heav'ns curtaines glorios in our sight,
'That Huge broad length, that long broad height profound
'Th'infinite finite, that great moundlesse Mound,
'I meane that Chaos, that selfe-jarring Masse,
'Which in a moment made of nothing was,
'Was the rich matter and the matrix, whence
'The heav'ns should issue, and the elements.
'Now, th' elements, two twins (two sons, two daughters)
'To wit, the fire, the ayre, the earth and waters,
'Are not compounded; but of them is all
'Compounded first, that in our sense can fall:
There's no materiall substance but doth beare
Within it selfe fire, water, earth and ayre.
And God to each his place hath well assign'd
According to its nature, breed and kind.
'Earth as the lees, and heaviest drosse of all
'(After his kind) did to the bottome fall:
'Contrarywise, the light and nimble fire
'Did through the crannies of th'old heap aspire
'Unto the top; and by his nature, light
'No lesse than hot, mounted in sparks upright;
'But lest the fire (which all the rest imbraces)
'Being too neer, should burne the earth to ashes;
'As chosen Umpires, the great All-creator,
'Betweene these foes placed the ayre and water:
'For one suffic'd not their sterne strife to end,
'Water, as cousin did the earth befriend.
'Ayre, for his kinsman fire, as firmly deales:
'But both uniting their divided zeales,
'Tooke up the matter, and appeas'd the brall,
'Which doubtlesse else had discreated all.
The ayre, as moderne, and the elder Sages,
Have fitly parted it into three stages.
The upper's seated next the fiery vault,
And by the learned very hot is thought:
That which we touch with times doth variate,
Now hot, now cold, and sometimes temperate.
But middle Region's far from fire set,
And therefore very cold, and little heat.
In ayrie clouds God bottles up the raine,
Which gratifies the Ploughmans toyle and paine:
The ayre ingenders milke white snow and haile,
Mist, dew and yce, in season will not faile,
In divers vapours their effects are strange,
But in the ayre they keepe a constant range.
For in the Summer of a sev'rall kinde
They doe produce Frogs, Toads, and the swift wind,
Whose whisking beesome doth brush cleane and sweepe
The cloudy curtaines of heav'ns stages steepe,
And sometimes they doe make the earth to rocke,
To shake and tremble like a weather-cocke.
And when I doe consider lightnings flash,
Its rare effects my sense in pieces dash.
A man was once going out of his dore,
He saw a fire passing him before,
Which he did follow, to see where 'twould goe;
But he will ne'r trust Ignis fatuus so,
For he had like so far to lose his way,
That he could hardly finde it the next day.
When I doe sometimes looke into the skies,
Me thinkes I see a hundred prodigies,
Compos'd of exhalations in the ayre,
But the true cause thereof none can declare,
Though by nice will, and deepe conceited straines,
They give a ghesse, but 'tis not worth their paines;
For the great God of heav'n sometimes delights
From top to toe, to alter natures rites,
That his strange workes to nature contrary
May be fore-runners of some misery:
Such are the blazing Comets, fiery star,
That threaten earth with famine, plague and war,
Three Suns, three Moones at once, green blew gilt bow,
Gods judgements and his mercies forth to show.
But I almost forget the firmament,
Although it was the chiefe of my intent,
Their number and their nature here to show,
And how their whirling Orbs about doe goe.
Yet of their number many a writer varies,
Yet most agree, that there a ten round stories.
In severall Orbs they place the Planets sev'n
After the fixed Stars and Christ [...]n heav'n.
Lastly, the highest Orbe of all the [...]out
Is the first mover, which whirles all about.
But there is none that can relate the solace,
Or boundlesse vastnesse of th'Imperiall Palace,
'Where life still lives, where God his Sises holds,
'Inviron'd round with Seraphins and Soules,
'Bought with Christs pretious blood, whose glorious flight
'Yet mounted earth above the heav'ns bright.
Neither doe I know rightly how to write
What wa [...]ers are above the heav'ns bright:
For I (too bold) will not aske how, or why
God placed water so exceeding high.
I must believe it for Gods Word doth show,
Above the heavens God made waters flow.
'I'll rather give a thousand times the ly
'To my owne reason than but once defy
'The sacred voyce of th'everlasting Spirit,
'Which doth so often and so loud aver it;
Besides, when sinfull men did God provoke,
In Noabs dayes these windowes he set ope.
And by these Seas drown'd cattell men and beast.
In this example I'll sit downe and rest.
So morne and even the second day conclude,
And God perceiv'd that all his works were good.
Now, why the Sages when they nam'd this day,
Call'd it Lucina's day I cannot sae,
Except it be because her wax and waine,
Doe cause the waters ebbe and flow againe.
Faire Phoebe she of all the Planets bright
Is most infirme, because she borrowes light.
By Poets she is call'd Diana chast,
Yet sh [...] her love on faire Endymion cast,
Constant in love she her swift course doth run
Throughout the Zode twelve times for once the sun.
Diana was goddesse of chastity,
And therefore I doe see small reason why
The vulgar should affirme a man on's backe,
Within the Moone should beare a Pedlers packe.
Besides, I thinke no woman could be chast,
If that a man within her were well plac'd.
Luna doth governe Seamen, Fishers, Hunters,
Chast maidens and wise Matrons, whose encounters
Or unchaste meetings with uncivill men
Are never us'd: but my unlearned pen
Hath so outrun my judgement and my wit,
The uses of this day I quite forget.
Besides, amazement and astonishment
At Gods great workes, I am by this day bent,
Advis'd to learne my waters to divide
Of charity free from vaine glorious pride,
And to distinguish my repentant teares
From those for losse of worldly things in feares.
And as the Moone I borrow all my light
From God, whose glory in me shineth bright.
And as the Moone, so I in vertues race,
Should still goe forward, though darke be my pace.
And though by frailty I may sometimes faile,
Yet godly constancy should e'r prevaile.

Tuesday, or dies Martis.

'THis day th'Almighties bounteous Majesty
'(willing t'enfeoffe man this worlds Empiry)
'Commanded Neptune straight to marshall forth
'His floods apart, and to unfold the earth,
'And presently the Sea to't selfe betooke,
'Mount after mount, field after field forsooke;
'And suddenly in smaller caske did tun
'Her waters, that from every side did tun:
'And hath imprison'd them in bounds of brasse,
'Which (to this day) the Ocean dares not passe
'Without his license, for, th'Eternall, knowing
'The Seas commotive and inconstant flowing
'Thus curbed her; and 'gainst her envious rage
'For ever fenc'd our flowry-mantled stage:
'So that we often see those rowling hils,
'With roaring noise threatning the neighbour fields,
'Through their owne spite to split upon the shore,
'Foming for fury that they dare no more.
'Also God powr'd the water on the ground
'In sundry figures; some in fashion round,
'Some squa [...]e, some crosse, some long, some Lozenge-wise,
'Some triangles, some large, some lesser size:
'Amid the floods (by this faire difference)
'To give the world more wealth and excellence.
'And though each of these armes (how large soever)
'To the great Ocean seemes a little river:
'Each makes a hundred sundry Seas besides
'(Not sundry in waters, but in names and tides)
'To moisten kindly, by their secret vaines,
'The thirsty thicknesse of the neighbours plaines:
'To Bul-warke Nations, and to serve for fences,
'Against th'invasion of Ambitious Princes:
'To bound large kingdomes with eternall limits,
'To further traffique through all earthly Climats,
'T'abridge long Jorneyes, and with aide of wind,
'Within a moneth to visit either Inde;
'Most wisely did th'Eternall All-creator,
'Dispose these Elements of earth and water,
'For sith th'one could not without drinke subsist,
'Nor th'other without stay, bottome and list,
'God intermixt them so, that th'earth her breast
'Op'ning to th'ocean, th'ocean winding prest,
'About the earth a thwart, and under it:
'For the world's Center, both together fit,
'For if their mixt Globe held not certainely,
'Just, the just midst of the worlds Axletree,
'All Climates then should not be serv'd aright,
'With equall counterp [...]ize of day and night:
'The Horizons il-level'd circle wide,
'Would sag too much on th'one or th'other side
'Th'Antipodes, or wee, at once should take
'View of more signes then halfe the Zodiake:
'The Moones Ecclipses would not then be certaine,
'And settled seasons would be then uncertaine.
'This also serveth for probation sound,
'That th'earth and waters mingled Maise is round.
'Round as a Ball; seeing on every side,
'The day and night successively to slide.
'Seas liquid Glasse round boweth every where,
'With Sister earth, to make a perfect Spheare.
'And yet this Globe (which we so much admire)
'Seemes but a point compar'd to th'upper Spire,
'Sith the least Star which we perceive to shine,
'Above disperst in th'Arches Christalline,
'(If, at the least, starre-Clarkes be credit worth)
'Is eighteene times bigger then all the earth:
'whence, if wee but substract what is possest,
'(From North to South, and from the east to west)
'what doth remaine? Ah! nothing (in respect)
'Loe here, O men! wherefore doe you neglect,
'Heav'ns glorious kingdome: Loe the largest scope
'Glory can give to your Ambitious hope.
'Loe her's the Guerdon of Mans glorious peines:
'A needles point, a Mote, a Mint he gains,
'A Nit, anothing (did he all possesse;)
'Or if than nothing any thing be lesse.
'And certainely it is Gods onely power,
'That doth uphold and keepe earth's branchy Bower,
'For though it hang in th'aire, swim in the water,
'Though every way it be a round Theater,
'Though all turne round about it, though for ay,
'Its selfes foundations with swift, Motions play,
'It rests unmovable: that the holy race,
'Of Adam there may find fit dwelling place.
'The earth receives man, when he is first borne:
'Th'earth nurses him; and when he is forlorne,
'Of th'other Elements, and nature loaths him,
'Th'earth in her bosome with kind buriall cloaths him.
'Oft hath the aire with tempests set upon us.
'Oft hath the water, with her floods undone us,
'Oft hath the fire (th'upper as well as ours)
'With woefull flames consum'd our Townes and Towers:
'Onely the earth, of all the Elements,
'Unto man-kind is kind without offence:
'Onely the earth did never jot displace,
'From the first seat assign'd it by Gods grace:
'When God, whose word more in a moment can,
'Then in an age the proudest strength of Man,
'Had severed the floods, levell'd the fields,
'Embast the Aalleys, and embost the Hills;
'Change, change (quoth he) O faire and firmest Globe,
'Thy mourning weed to a greene gallant Robe;
'Cheere thy sad browes, and stately garnish them,
'With a rich fragrant, flowry diadem;
'Lay forth thy locks, and paint thee (Lady like)
'With freshest calours on thy sallow Cheek;
'That aire, and water, and the Angels court,
'May all seeme jealous of thy praise and port.
'No sooner spoken, but the lofty Pyne,
'Distilling-pitch, the Larch yeeld Turpentine,
'Th'ever-green Box, the Gummy Cedar sprout,
'And th' Airy Monntaines mantle all about:
'The Mast full Oke, the usefull Ash, the Holm
'Coat changing Cork, white Maple, shady Elm,
'Through hill and dale ranged their plumed rancks,
'The winding Rivers bordered all their Bancks,
'With flice-sea Aldars, and greene Osiers small,
'With trembling Poplars, and with Willowes pale;
'And many Trees beside, fit to be made
'Fewell, or Timber, or to serve for shade,
'The dainty Apricock (of Plums the Prince)
'The velvet Peach, gilt Orenge, downy Quince,
'Already beare grav'n in their tender Barkes,
'Gods powerfull Providence in open ma [...]kes;
'The sweet-sent Apple, and astringent Pear,
'The Ch [...]rry, Filbert, Walnut, Meddeler,
'The Milky Fig, the Damson black and white,
'The Date, and Olive, aiding Appetite
'Spread every-where a most enlightfull spring,
'And every-where a very Eden bring I
'Here, the fine Pepper, as in clusters hung:
'There Sinemon and other Spices sprong;
'Here, dangled Nutmags, that for thrifty paines,
'Yearely repay the Bandons wondrous gaines;
'There growes (th'Hesperian Plant) the pretious Read.
'Whence Sugar Sirrups in abundance bleed;
'There weeps the Balme, and famous Trees, from whence,
'Th' Arabians fetch perfuming Frankincense:
'There, th'amorous Vine calls in a thousand sorts,
'(With winding Armes) her spouse that her supports:
'Here for our food, Millions of flow'ry graines,
'With long mustachoes, wave upon the plaines;
'Here thousand fleeces, fit for Princes Robes,
'In Se'rean forrests hang in silken Globes:
'Here shrubs of Malta (for my meaner use)
'The fine white Balls of Bombace doe produce;
'Here th'azure-flowred Flax is finely spun
'For finest Linen, by the Belgian Nun:
'Here fatall Hemp, which Denmark doth afford,
'Doth furnish us with Canvasse, and with Cord,
'Cables and Sayles; that, winds assisting either,
'Wee may acquaint the East and West together,
'And dry-foot dance on Neptunes watry front,
'And in adventure lead whole Townes upon 't,
'Never mine eyes in pleasant springs behold,
'Th'azure Flax, the gilden Marigold,
'The Violets purple, the sweet Roses stammell,
'The Lillye's snow, and Panseye's various Ammell,
'But that (in them) the Painter I admire,
'Who in more colors doth the fields attire,
'Then fresh Aurora's rosey Cheekes display,
'When in the East she ushers a faire day.
'God not content to have made these plants ours,
'Pretious perfumes, fruits, plenty, pleasant flowers
'Infused Physick in their leaves and Mores,
'To cure our sicknesse, and to salve our sores.
'Blew succ'ry, hanged on the naked Neck,
'Dispells the dimnesse that our sight doth check.
'About an Infants neck hang Peony,
'It cures Alcydes cruell malady.
'If fuming bowls of Bacchus, in excesse,
'Trouble thy brayns with stormes of giddinesse;
'Put but a Garland of greene Saffron on,
'And that mad humour will be quickly gon;
'Th'inchanting charmes of Syrens blandishments
'Contagious Aire-ingendring Pestilence,
'Infect not those that in their mouthes have ta'en
'Angelica that happy counter-baen,
'Sent downe from heav'n by some Celestiall scout,
'As well the name and nature doth avow'c;
'So Pimpernell held in the patients hand,
'The bloody Flix doth presently withstand:
'And to conclude, whether I walke the fields,
'Rush through the woods, or clamber up the hills,
'I finde God every-where: thence all depend,
'He giveth frankly, what we thankly spend.
'But th'earth not onely on her back doth beare,
'Abundant Treasures glistring every where,
'But inwardly shee's no lesse fraught with riches,
'Nay rather more (which more our Soules bewitches)
'Within the d [...]epe folds of her fruitfull lap,
'Such boundlesse mines of treasure she doth wrap,
'That th'hungry hands of humane Avarice
'Cannot exhaust with labour or device;
'For, they be more then there be starres in heav'n,
'Or stormy billowes in the Ocean driv'n,
'Or eares of corne in Autumn on the fields,
'Or Savage Beasts upon a thousand Hills,
'Or Fishes diving in the silver floods,
'Or scattered Leaves in winter in the woods.
'Slate, Iet and Marble shall escape my Pen,
'I overpasse the Salt-mount Oromene:
'I blanch the Brine-quar hill in Aragon,
'Whence (there) they powder their provision.
'I'le onely now embosse my Booke with Brasse,
'Dy't with Vermilion, deck't with Coperasse.
'With Gold and Silver, Lead and Mercury,
'Tin, Iron, Orpine, Stibium, Lithargie;
'And on my Gold worke I will onely place
'The Chrystall pure, which [...]oth reflect each face;
'The pretious Ruby, of a sanguin hew,
'The seal-fit Onix, and the Saphire bl [...]w,
'The Cassidonie, full of circles round,
'The tender Topza, and rich Diamond,
'The various Opal, and greene Emerald,
'The Agath by a thousand titles call'd,
'The skie-like Turqisez, purple Amethists,
'And fiery Carbuncle, which flames resists.
'But, shall I baulk th'admired Adamant?
'Whose dead-live power, my reasons power doth dant,
'Renowned Loade-stone, which on I [...]on acts,
'And by the touch the same a loft attracts;
'Attracts it strangely with unclasping crooks,
'With unknowne Cords, and unconceived hookes,
'With unseene hands, with undiscerned Armes,
'With hidden force, with sacred secret charmes,
'Wherewith he woes his Iron Misteresse
'And never leaves her till he get a kisse;
'Nay till he fold her in his faithfull bosome,
'Never to part (except wee, love-lesse loos'em)
'With so firme zeale and fast affection,
'The stone doth love the steel, the steele the stone;
'And though sometime, some make bate come betwixt,
'Still burnes their first flame; tis so surely fixt:
'And while they cannot meet to breake their minds,
'With mutuall skips, they shew their love by signes,
'(As bashfull suiters seeing strangers by
'Parley in silence with their hand or ey.)
'Nor is th'earth onely worthy praise eternall,
'For the rare Riches on her back externall,
'Or in her bosome: but her owne selfes worth,
'Solicits me to sound her praises forth.
'All-hail faire earth, bearer of Townes and Towers,
'Of men, Gold, Graine, Physick, and fruits and flowers,
'Faire, firme, and fruitfull, various, patient, sweet,
'Sumptuously cloathed in mantle meet,
'Of mingled-colours; lac't about with stoods;
'And all imbrod'red with fresh blooming buds,
'With rarest Jemmes richly about embost,
'Excelling cunning, and exceeding cost:
'All-haile great heart, round base, and stedfast Root,
'Of all the world, the worlds strong fixed foot,
'Heav'ns chastest spouse, supporter of this All,
'This glorious buildings goodly Pedestall.
'All-haile deere mother, Sister, hostesse, Nurse,
'Of the worlds Soveraigne: Of thy liberall purse,
'W'are all maintained, matchlesse Emperesse;
'To doe thee service with all readinesse.
'The Sphears, before thee bear ten thousand Torches:
'The fire, to warme thee, folds his heatfull arches,
'In purest flames about the floating cloud:
'Th' aire to refresh thee, willingly is bow'd
'About the waves, and well content to suffer,
'Milde Zephyrs blasts, and Boreas bellowing rougher,
'Water, to quench thy thirst, about the mountaines,
'Wraps her moist armes, Seas, Rivers, lakes and fountaines.
'So Morne and Evening the third day conclude;
'And God perceiv'd that all his workes were good.
But by this writing I declare my Birth,
How like a Mole I doe delight in earth.
Therefore I'll leave this Trash and haste away,
And shew how furious Marr doth rule this day,
Yet it is strange: for he is God of war,
Discord, dissention, and delights to jar.
Hee governs Knights, Captaines, and bloody Souldiers,
Alchymists, Surgeons, he rules all disorders,
In Butchers, Serjeants, Hangmen, the stout theefe,
Who many times heapes the poore true man griefe.
And all this day I writ no harme to be
In fields, in woods, in hills that I could see.
But 'tis to show how vainely men doe use,
Gods creatures good, and how they doo abuse.
Iron and steele they make to kill and slay,
Hearbs, metalls, earth cast many men away.
When dull Physicians void of learned Notions
For greedy gaine make poysoned salves and potions;
And for Golds luster many doe not feare,
To loose their limbs, and last the halter were,
'To pick a lock, to take their neighbours purse,
'To breake a house, or to doe something worse,
'To cut his Parents Throat, to kill his Prince,
'To spoyle his Country, murder innocents;
'Even so prophaning of a gift divine,
The drunkard drownes his Reason in the wine;
'So fale-tongu'd Lawyers, wresting Eloquence,
'Excuse rich wrong, and cast poore innocence,
'So Antichrists, their poyson to infuse,
'Mis-cite the Scriptures, and Gods name abuse:
'For as a Cask, for want of use growne fusty,
'Makes with his stink the best Greeke Malmesey musty,
'So Gods best Gifts, usurpt by wicked ones,
'To poyson turne through their contagions.
'Tis not these creatures, but 'tis mans amisse,
'Hath made Sin mount unto the hight it is:
'But, as the sweet baite of abundant riches,
'Bodyes and Soules of greedy men bewitches:
'Gold gilds the vertuous, and it lends them wings,
'To raise their thoughts unto the raiest things.
'The wise not onely Iron well apply,
'For houshold turnes, and tools of husbandry;
'But to defend their Country (when it calls)
'From forraigne dangers, and intestine bralls.
'Brave-minded Mars, (yet master of misorder,
'Delighting nought but Battells, blood, and murder)
'His furious coursers lasheth night and day,
'That he may swiftly passe his course away,
'But in the road of his eternall race,
'So many rubs hinder his hasty pace,
'That thrice the while the lively Lyquor-God.
'With dabling heeles, hath swelling clusters trod,
'And thrice hath Ceres shav'n he [...] amber Treffe,
'Ere his steele wheeles have done their businesse.
Oh Lord, I pray, grant I may make such use,
Of all thy creatures without base abuse,
That I with temperance may take and eat
Wheat, hearbs, and fruit which are delicious meat,
And that the love of wine may neere intox,
My head and minde to make mee catch the Fox:
And though (like Mars) many doe me oppose,
For men and devills may become my foes,
Grant me such courage I may never feare
Any but thee and still move in thy Spheare,
That having liv'd on earth Godly and well,
I may with thee in heaven for ever dwell.

Wednesday or Dies Mercurii.

GOd having now the Worlds wide curtaine spread
About the Circuit of the fruitfull Bed;
'Where (to fill all with her unnumbred kin)
'Kind natures selfe each Moment lyeth in:
'To make the same for ever admirable,
'More stately-pleasant, and more profitable:
'He th' Azure Tester trimm'd with Golden workes,
'And richly spangled with bright glistring Sparks.
'He that to number all the Stars would seek.
'Had need invent some new Arithmetique;
'And who, to cast that reck'ning takes in hand,
'Had need for counters take the Oceans sand:
'Yet have our wise and learned Elders found
'Foure-dozen Figures in the heau'nly Round.
'For aid of memory; and to our eyes,
'In certaine Houses to divide the skies,
'Of those are twelve in that rich Girdle grift
'Which God gave Nature for her New-yeares-Gift,
'(When making all, his voyce Almighty most,
'Gave so faire Lawes unto heav'ns shining hoast)
'To weare it biar, buckled over-thwart her
'Not round about her swelling waste, to girt her.
'This glorious Baldrick of a Golden tindge,
'Imbost with Rubyes, edged with Silver frindge,
'Buckled with Gold; with a Bond glistring bright,
'Heav'ns biaz-wife environs day and night,
'For from the period, Where the Ram doth bring
'The day and night to equall ballancing,
'Ninety degrees towards the North it wends,
'Thence just as much toward Mid-heav'n it bonds,
'As many thence toward the South, and thence
'Toward th'yeares Portall, the like difference.
'Nephelian Crook horne with brasse Cornets crown'd,
'Thou buttest bravely 'gainst the Newyears bound;
'And richly clad in thy fa [...]re Golden fleece,
'Do'st hold the first house of heavens spacious Meese.
'Thou spy'st anon the Bill behinde thy back:
'Who least that fodder by the way he lack,
'Seeing the world so naked, to renew't,
'Coats th'infant earth in a greene gallant sute;
'And without Plough or Yoak, doth freely fling
'Through fragrant pastures of the flowry spring
'The Twins, whose heads, Armes, shoulders, knees and feet,
'God fill'd with Starres to shine in season sweet,
'Contend in course, who first the Bull should catch,
'That neither will nor may attend their match.
'Then Summers guide, the Crab comes rowing soft,
'With his eight Oares through the heav'ns azure loft;
'To bring us yearely, in his starry shell,
'Many long dayes the shaggy earth to swell,
Almost with like pace leaps the Lyon out,
All clad with flames, bristled with beames about;
Who with contagion of his burning breath,
Both Grasse and grain to cinders withereth.
The Virgin next, sweeping heav'ns ature Globe,
With stately traine of her bright Golden robe,
Mild-proudly marching in her left hand brings
A sheafe of Corne, and in her right hand wings.
After the Maiden, shines the Ballance bright,
Equall divider of the day and night:
In whose gold beam, with three Gold rings, there fastens
With six Gold strings, a paire of Golden basens.
The spitefull Scorpion next the Shale addrest,
With two bright Lamps covers his loathsome breast;
And fain, from both ends, with his double sting,
Would spet his venome over every thing;
But that the brave Halfe-horse Phylirean scout,
Galloping swift the heav'nly Belt about,
Ay fiercely threats, with his flame-fethered arrow,
To shoot the sparkling starry viper thorough.
And th' hoary Centaure, during all his race,
Is so attentive to this onely chase,
That dreadlesse of his dart, heav'ns shining Kid
Comes jumping light, just at his heels unspid.
Mean while the Skinker, from his starry spout,
After the Goate, a silver streame pours-out;
Distilling still out of his radiant fire
Rivers of water (who but will admire?
In whose cleere channell mought at pleasure swim,
Those two bright Fishes that doe follow him;
But that the Torrent slides so swift away,
That it out-runs them ever, even as they
Out-run the Ram, who ever them pursues,
And by returning yearely, all renewes.
Besides these twelve, towards the Artick side,
A flaming Dragon, doth two-Beares divide;
After the Wainman comes, the Crowne, the Speare,
The kneeling Youth, the Harpe, the Hamperer
Of th' hatefull Snake (whether we call the same
By Esculapius, or Alcides name)
Swift Pegasus, the Dolphin, loving man;
Ioves stately Eagle, and the silver Swan:
Andromeda, with Cassiopea neere-her,
Her Father Cepheus, and her Perseus deerer,
The shining Triangles Medusas Tresse,
And the bright Coach-man of Tindarides.
Toward th'other Pole, Orion, Eridanus,
The Whale, the whelpe, and hot breath'd Sirius,
The Hare, the Hulke, the Hydra and the Boule,
The Centaure, Woolfe, the Censer, and the foule,
(The twice foule Raven) the Southern Fish and Crowne,
Through heav'ns bright Arches brandish up and downe.
Thus on this day working th' eight azure tent
With Artlesse Art, Divinely excellent;
Th' Almighties fingers fixed many a million,
Of Golden Scutchions in that rich Pavilion:
But, in the rest (under that glorious heav'n)
But one a peece, unto the severall sev'n,
Least, of these lamps the number-passing number
Should mortall eyes with such confusion cumber,
That we should never, in the cleerest night,
Stars divers course see or discerne aright:
And therefore also, all the fixed Tapers,
He made to twinkle with such trembling Capers;
But, the seven lights that wander under them
Through various passage, never shake a beam.
Or, He (perhaps) made them not different;
But th'hoast of Sparks spred in the Firmament,
Far from our sense, through distance infinite,
Seemes but to twinkle, to our twinkling sight,
Whereas the rest, neerer a thousand fold,
To th' earth and Sea, wee doe more brim behold.
For, the heav'ns are not mixtly enterlaced;
But th'undermost by th'upper be embraced.
And more or lesse the Rundells wider are,
As from the Center they be neere or far,
As in an Egg, the shell includes the skin,
The skin the white, the white the Yolke within,
Now like as in a Clock that is well tended,
Just counterpoize, Justly thereon suspended,
Makes the great wheele goe round, and that anon
Turnes with his turning many a meaner one,
The trembling watch & th'Iron Maule that chimes,
The entire day in twice twelve equall times:
So the grand heau'n, in foure and twenty houres,
Surveying all this various house of ours,
With his quick motion all the Spheares doth move,
Whose radiant glances gild the world above,
And drives them every day (which swiftnesse strange is)
From Gange, to Tagus, and from Tag to Ganges.
But th'under-O [...]bes, as grudging to be still,
So streightly subject to anothers will,
Still without change, still at anothers pleasure,
After one Pipe to dance one onely measure;
They from-ward turne, and traversing aside,
Each by himselfe an oblique course doth slide:
So that they all (although it seeme not so)
Forward and backward in one instant goe,
Both up and downe, and with contrary paces,
At once they post to two contrary places.
But now the neerer any of these eight,
Approach th'Emperiall Pallace walls in height,
The more their circuit, and more dayes they spend,
Ere they returne unto their Jorneyes end.
It's therefore thought, that sumptuous Canopye,
The which th'unnigard hand of Majesty,
Powdred so thick with shields so shining cleere,
Spends in his voyage nigh sev'n thousand yeare.
Then follow Saturn [...], Iupiter, and Mars,
Divine Apollo, Venus's bright Cars.
So swif [...]ly followes, whose doves goe not far
From splendant Phebus glory beaming Car:
Then witty Mercury and Luna last
In her Carreer, doth make a monethly hast.
Now, should I write how the Latonian twins
The yeare, the moneth, the weeke and day begins.
First how the sun about the world rides ay,
How all doe live by vertue of his Ray:
How, even as man (the little world of Cares)
Within the middle of his body, beares
His heart (the spring of life) which with proportion
Supplyeth spirits to all, and every Portion.
Even so the Sun his Golden Chariot Marches
Amid the six lamps of the six low Arches,
Which seele the world, that equally it might
Richly impart them beauty, force and light;
Six heav'nly Princes mounted evermore
Wait on Sols Coach, three behind. three before,
Besides the hoasts of th'upper twincklers bright,
To whom for pay, he giveth onely light:
And how he cheareth every living thing
With light and heat, but my muse daies not sing
His honour'd prayses, for I'm like the moone,
In borrowing light from a diviner Sun.
Therefore I'll vaile my front under his shine,
Least I ecclips him by this work of mine.
So m [...]rn and Evening the fourth day conclude.
And God perceiv'd that all his workes were good,
Why this is call'd the day of Mercury,
(Who is of Eloquence and Memory,
The God by Poete call'd, and rules the Muses,
Marchants and each one that the Pen oft uses,
Ambassadors, the Princes humor pleaser,
To end his course takes neere a twelve moneths leasure.
For all the while his nimble winged heeles
Dare little bouge from Phoebus golden wheeles.
Hee's fained to have wings on Armes and feet,
To shew his speed (for message he is meet)
I cannot tell except it be to show
How swift the motion of the Plannets goe,
How by the force of the first moving heav'n
With speedy hast their flaming Cars are driv'n:
Now as that grand heav'n by his powerfull force,
Doth move the under nine in their swift course:
So of my selfe, I know I cannot move
To any good. It is the Lord above,
That drives mee forward in the way of Grace,
That in bright Glory I may have a place,
There to remaine, ev'n as a glorious starre,
Which happy Blisse doth passe mans reason far.

Thursday or Dies Iovis.

IN vaine had God stor'd heav'n with glistring studs,
The Plain with grain, the mountaine tops with woods,
Sever'd the aire from fire, the earth from water.
Had hee not soone peopled this large Theater
With living Creatures: therefore he began
(This Day) to quicken in the Ocean
In standing Pools, and in the straggling Rivers,
(whose folding Channell fertill Champion fevers)
So many Fishes of so many features,
That in the waters one may see all creatures,
And all that in this, All is to be found;
As if the world within the deeps were drown'd,
Seas have (as well as Skies) Sun, Moone, and stars:
(As well as aire) Swallowes, and Rooks, and stares
As well as earth, Vines, Roses, Nettles, Millions,
Pinks, Gilly-flowers, Mushromes, & many millions
Of other Plants (more rare and strange then these)
As very Fishes living in the Seas:
And also Rams, Calfes, Horses, Hares, and Hogs,
Wolves, Lions, Urchins, Elephants, and Dogs,
Yea men and maides: and (which I more admire)
The Mitred Bishop, and the cowled Fryer:
whereof example (but a few yeares since)
Were showne the Norwayes, and Polonian Prince.
As a rare Painter drawes (for pleasure) here
A sweet Adonis, a soule Satyre there:
Here a huge Cyclop, there a Pigme Elfe:
Somtimes no lesse busying his skilfull selfe;
Upon some ugly Monster (seldome seene)
Then on the Picture of faire beauties Queene,
Even so the Lord, that, in his workes variety,
Wee might the more admire his powerfull deity;
And that wee might discerne by different features,
The various kinds of the vast Oceans Creatures;
Forming this mighty frame, he every kind,
With divers and peculiar Signets sign'd.
Some have their heads groveling betwixt their feet,
(As th'inky Cuttles and the many-feet:)
Some in their breast (as Crabs) some headlesse are,
Foot lesse and Fin-lesse (as the banefull Hare,
And heatfull Oyster) in a heape confus'd,
Their parts unparted, in themselves diffus'd.
Then for their bulk, the Orke, Whirlepoole and Whale
In greatnesse passe the largest ships that saile.
Me thinkes I see the Dolphin swiftly passe,
And the rare Tortoise whose shell seemes as brasse,
Which th' Arabiàn makes in sted to stand,
For hulke at Sea, and for a house on Land.
The dainty Salmons, Chevins thunder-sca [...]'d,
Feast-famous Sturgeons, Lampreyes speckle-starr'd,
Th' adulterous Sar [...]us, and the loving Mullet,
The banefull Crampfish, which when in her Gullet,
¶ She hath receiv'd the sharp deceitfull hooke.
'Suddenly spues into the silver brooke
'Her secret-spreading, sudden-speeding bane;
'Which, up the line, and all along the cane,
'Creeps to the hand of th' Angler; who withall
'Benumm'd and senslesse, suddenly lets fall
'His hurtfull pole, and his more hatefull price,
'In a deep sleep upon the ground he lies.
'A firmer league of friendship is not seene,
'Than is the Pearle-fish and the Prawn betweene;
'Both have but one repast, both but one palace,
'But one delight, death, sorrow, and one solace:
'That lodgeth this, and this remunerates
'His Land-lords kindnesse, with all needfull cates.
'For while the Pearle-fish gaping wide doth glister,
'Much fry (allur'd with the bright silver luster,
'Of her rich casket) flocks into the Nacre;
'Then with a pricke the Prawne a signe doth make her.
'That instantly her shining shell she'll close,
'(Because the prey worthy their paine he knowes)
'Which gladly done, she ev'nly shareth out
'The prey betwixt her, and her faithfull scout:
'And so the Sponge-spie, warily awakes
'the Sponges dull sense, when repast it takes.
But why doe I thus search in Thetis lap
For fishes kinde, when I am far unapt
To imitate their vertuous quality:
Therefore into the ayre I meane to fly,
And there I see the onely Phenyx flie,
So faire a creature dazel'd hath mine eye:
'Such forme, such feathers, and such fate God gave her,
'That fruitfull Nature breedeth nothing braver:
'Two sparkling eyes; upon her crowne a crest
'Of starry sprigs (more splendent than the rest)
'A golden downe about her dainty neeke,
'Her breast deepe purple, and a scarlet backe,
'Her wings and traine of feathers (mixed fine)
'Of orient azure and incarnadine.
'He did appoint her fate to be her Phere,
'And deaths cold kiffes to restore her here,
'Her life againe, which never shall expire,
'Untill (as she) the world consume with fire.
'For she becomes out of a sacred fire,
'Her owne selfe's heire, Nurse, Nursling, Dam and Sire,
'Teaching us all in Adam here to dy,
'That we in Christ may live eternally.
'Next her the Swallow sweepeth to and fro,
'As swift as shafts fly from a Turkish bow,
'When (use and art, and strength confedered)
'The skilfull Archer drawes unto the head:
'Flying she sings, and singing seeketh every where.
'She more with cunning, then with cost may reere
'Her round-fiont palace in a place secure,
'Whose plot may serve in rarest Arch'tecture.
'The pretty Larke climbing the welkin cleare,
'Chants with a cheere, here peer I neer my deare;
'Then stouping thence (seeming her fall to rew)
'Adieu (she saith) dieu deare deare adieu.
'Th [...] Sp [...]ke, the Linot, and the Goldfinch fill
'All the fresh ayre with their sweet warbles shrill.
'But these are nothing to the Nightingale.
'Breathing so sweetly from a breast so small,
'So many tunes, whose harmony excels,
'Our voyce, our vials and all musique else.
'The Storke, still eying her deare Thessaly,
'The Pelican consorteth cheerefully.
'Praise-worthy paire, which pure examples yeeld
'Of faithfull father and officious child:
'Th'one quites (in time) her Parents love exceeding,
'From whom she had her birth and tender breeding
'Not onely brooding under her warme breast
'Theire age-chill'd bodies bedrid in the nest;
'Nor onely bearing them upon her back
'Through th'empty ayre, when their owne wings they lacke,
'But also, sparing (this let children note)
'Her daintiest food from her owne hungry throat,
'To feed at home her feeble parents, held
'From forraging, with heavie gives of eld.
'The other kindly for her tender brood
'Teares out her bowels, trilleth out her blood
'To heale her young, and in a wondrous sort
'Unto her children doth her life transport:
'For finding them by some fell Serpent slaine,
'She rents her breast, and doth upon them raine
'Her vitall humour; whence recovering heate,
'They by her death, another life doe get:
'A type of Christ, who sin-thrall'd man to free,
'Became a captive, and on shamefull tree
'(Selfe-guiltlesse) shed his blood, by's wounds to save us,
'And salve the wounds th'old Serpent firstly gave us,
'And so became, of meere immortall, mortall,
'Thereby to make fraile mortall man, immortall,
'There's the fine Pheasant, and the Partridge rare,
'The lustfull Sparrow, and the fruitfull Stare.
'The lustfull Sparrow, and the fruitfull Stare.
'The chattering Py, the chastest Turtle-Dove,
'The grezell Quoist, the Thrush that grapes doth love)
'The little Gnatsnap (worthy Princes boards)
'And the green Parrat fainer of our words.
'The ravening Kite, whose traine doth well supply
'A rudders place, the Falcon mounting high,
'The Mar'in, Lanar, and the gentle Tercell
'Th' Ospray and Saker with a nimble Sarcell
'Follow the Phoenix, from the cloudes (almost)
'At once discovering many an unknowne coast.
'In the swift rancke of these fell rovers, flies
'The Indian Grissin with the glistering eyes,
'Beake Eagle-like, backe sable, sanguine brest,
'White (Swan-like) wings, fierce tallons, alwayes prest
'For bloody battles; for with these he teares
'Boars, Lyons, Horses, Tigers, Buls and Beares.
The feare of him hath made me quite forget
Night Birds and Water, Fowles, and I as yet
Have writ nothing of Peacocks stalking grave,
Nor mighty Estridge, nor the Eagle brave,
Nor thousands more of famous Birds that be
Within the ayre never descry'd by me:
For hitherto, what I have boldly writ
Is all but borrowed from more learned wit.
But this I doe acknowledge is mine owne,
To fit the Planets, and to make it knowne
Wherefore they governe every day i'th weeke:
But on this day I'm most of all to seeke.
Why Iupiter should beare such rule and sway,
To move the Sages place him on this day,
For he was Saturn's lofty sonne and heire,
And as a Plannet in his high careere.
His Tinnen Chariot shod with burning bosses
Through twice six signes in twice six twelve moneths crosses.
He rules o'r Princes, Preachers, Bishops, Priests,
Judges, and those that in deepe Councell sits.
But as he is a God of th'ayre and sky,
Therefore I thinke over the birds that fly,
Our elders plac'd him on this day, and so
Because his brother Neptune doth not go
Among the number of the wandring seav'n,
Hee hath the power of fishes to him giv'n.
Now will I praise the Lord for all the good
Nourishment we receive from th'ayre and flood,
From fowles of th'ayre and fishes of the Sea,
Whose copious choyce and number end leffe be.
Yet with such food our corps are daily fed,
And on our tables plentifully spread.
And I will pray to God, that I may learne,
From fish and fowles that I in them discerne:
For some are presidents of love and piety,
Others of prudence, and of grave sobriety.
And lastly, I admire Gods wondrous power,
In peopling this most vast and fearefull bower,
With such variety of sundry creatures,
Of admirable kinde, and dainty features.
O Lord, I pray, grant I may ever sing
Thy praise, like warbling birds in welcome Spring,
And that in waters of thy Word I may
Delight as fish to swim there night and day,
And there to learne such knowledge of thy grace,
That I in glory may finde resting place:
Where I shall sing a song among the blest,
And live with God in a perpetuall rest.

Fryday, or dies Veneri [...].

'HAving the last day ventur'd forth so far,
'On Neptune's backe (through winds and waters war)
'I'll row this stroake, the harbour to recover,
'Whose shoares already my glad eyes discover.
'Of all the beasts that this day God did build
'To haunt the hils, the forrest and the fields:
'I see (as Viceroy of their brutish bend)
'The Elephant the Vant-gard doth command,
'Worthy that office; whether we regard
'His towred backe where many souldiers ward,
'Or else his prudence, where withall he seemes
'Tobscure the wits of human-kinde some times.
'Neer the Elephant comes th'horned Hirable,
'Stream-troubling Camell, and strong necked Bull,
'The lazy-paced (yet laborious) Asse,
'The quicke proud Courser, which the rest doth passe
'For apt addresse; Mars and his Master loving,
'After his hand, with ready lightnesse moving,
'When out of hand, will selfe advance, and bound,
'Corvet, pace, mannage, turne, and trot the round.
'In a fresh troope, the fearefull Hare I note,
'The oblivious Coney and the brouzing Goat,
'The slothfull Swine, the golden fleeced sheepe,
'The light-foot Hart, that every yeere doth weepe.
'But, of all beasts, none steadeth man so much
'As doth the Dog; his diligence is such:
'A faithfull guard, a wachfull sentinell,
'A painfull purvey'r, that with perfect smell
'Prov des great Princes many a dainty messe,
'A friend till death, a helper in distresse,
'Dread of the Wolfe, feare of the fearefull thiefe,
'Fierce combatant, and of all hunters chiefe.
'There skips the Squirrell, seeming weatherwise.
'Without beholding of heav'ns twinckling eyes;
'For, knowing well which way the wind will change,
'He shifts the portal of his little grange.
'There's the wanton Weazel, and the wily Fox,
'The witty Monkey that mans actions mocks.
'The sweat sweet Civet, dearely fetcht from far,
'For Courtiers nice, past Indian Tarnassar,
'There the wife Bever, who pursu'd By foes,
'Feares off his coolings, and among them throwes;
'Knowing the hunters, on the Pontik heath,
'Doe more desire that ransome, than his death:
'There, the rough Hedgebog, who to shun his thrall,
'Shrinks up himselfe as round as any ball;
'And fastning his slow feet under his chin,
'On's thistly brisles, rowles him quickly in:
'But th'eye of heav'n beholdeth nought more strange
'Than the Chamelion, who with various change
'Receives the colour that each object gives,
'And (foodlesse else) of th'ayre alonely lives.
'Oh! who is he that would not be astound,
'To be (as I am) here environ'd round
'With cruell'st creatures, which for mastery
'Have vow'd against us endlesse enmity?
'Phoebus would faint, Alcides selfe would dread,
'Although the first dread Python conquered,
'And th'other vanquisht th' Erymanthian Boare,
'The Nemean Lyon and a many more.
'What strength of arme, or artfull stratagem
'From Nile's fell rover could deliver them,
'Who runs and towes, warring by land and water
'Gainst men and fishes, subject to his slaughter:
'Or from that furious Dragon, which alone
'set on a Roman army; whereupon
'Stout Regulus as many engines spent,
'As to the ground would Car [...]hage walls have rent.
'What shot free Co [...]slet, or what counsell crafty,
'Gainst th' angry aspick could aslure them safety.
'Who (saithfull husband) over hill and plaine
'Pursues the man that his deare Pheet hath slaine;
'Whom he can find amid the thickest throng,
'And in an instant venge him of his wrong.
'What shield of Ajax could avoyd their death
'By th' Basilisk, whose pestilen [...]iall breath
'Doth pierce firme Marble, and whose banefull eye
'Wounds with a glance, so that the soundest dye.
'From Serpents scap'd, yet am I scarce in safety:
'Alas! I see a Legion fierce and lofty
'Of Savages, whose fleet and furious pace,
'Whose horrid roaring, and whose hideous face
'Make my senso senslesse, and my speach restraine,
'And cast me in my former feares againe.
'Already howles the wastfull Wolfe, the Boare
'Whets foamy fangs, the hungry Beare doth roare,
'The Cat-fac'd Ounce, that doth me much dismay,
'With grumbling horror threatens my decay;
'The light foot Tigre, spotted Leopard,
'Foaming with fury doe besiege me hard;
'Then th' Vnicorne, th' Hyena tearing-tombs,
'Swift Manticho's, and Nubian Cephus comes;
'Of which last three, each hath (as here they stand)
'Man's voyce, man's visage, man-like foot and hand.
'I feare the beast bred in the bloody coast
'Of Cannibals, which thousand times (almost)
'Re-whelps her whelps, and in her tender womb
'She doth as oft her living brood retomb;
'Then th'monstrous Porcupine there bids me battle,
'On whose rough backe an hoast of pikes doth rattle.
'But (courage now) here comes the valiant beast
'The noble Lyon, King of all the rest;
'Who bravely minded, is as milde to those
'That yeeld to him, as fierce unto his foes:
'To humble Suitors neither sterne nor statefull;
'To benefactors never found ingratefull:
'There's under Sun (as Delphos God did show)
'No better knowlege, that our selves to know:
'There is no theme more plentifull to scan
'Than is the glorious goodly frame of man.
'For in mans selfe is fire, ayre earth, and Sea;
'Man's (in a word) the worlds Epitome
'Or little map: which here my Muse would try
'By the grand paterne to exemplifie:
But my dull Muse shall not eclipse thy shine,
From whom I borrow all these words divine.
For I can little of mans nature speake,
But what I take from thy creation weake:
For here and there I take a little tast
Of thy sweet Nectar, my tart lines to cast
In such a heav'nly smooth delicious mould,
As with the Word of God may firmely hold
Due correspondence: and make plaine to sense
The wondrous workes of Gods Omnipotence▪
'Now God that supreame peerelesse Architect,
'When of mere nothing he did first erect
'Heav'n, earth and ayre, and seas; at once his thought,
'His Word and deed all in an instant wrought:
'But when he would his owne selfe's type create,
'Th'honour of nature, th'earths sole potentate;
'As if he would a councel hold, he citeth
'His sacred power, his prudence he inviteth,
'Summons his love, his justice he adjournes,
'Calleth his goodnesse, and his grace returnes,
'To (as it were) consult about the birth
'And building of a second god, of earth;
'Or rather he consults with his owne Son,
'(His owne true pourtrait) what proportion,
'What gifts, what grace, what soule he should bestow
'Upon his Vice-roy of this Realme below.
But of 's particular parts I will not speake,
It is enough in this my borrowed weeke
In generall to write a little story
Of soule and bodies first created glory.
They that desire more of the same to know,
Learned Du Bartas will divinely show.
'Th' Almighty Father, as of watery matter,
'It pleas'd him make the people of the water,
'So of an earthly substance made he all
'The slimy Burgers of this earthly ball;
'To th'end each creature might (by consequent)
'Part-sympathize with his owne element.
'Therefore, to forme this earthly Emperor
'He did take earth, and by his sacred power
'So tempered it, that of the very same
'Dead shapelesse lump did Adams body frame:
'Yet not his face downe to the earth-ward bending
'(Like beasts that but regard their belly ending
'For ever all) but toward the azure skies
'Bright golden Lamps lifting his lovely eyes;
'That through their nerves, his better part might looke
'Still to that place from whence her birth shee tooke.
'And this most peere-lesse learned Imager,
'Life to his lovely picture to confer,
'Did not extract out of the elements
'A certaine secret Chymick Quinte slence:
'But, breathing, sent as from the lively spring
'Of his divinen [...]sse some small riverling,
'It selfe dispersing into every pipe
'Of the fraile Engine of this Earthen type.
'In briefe, it's but a breath: Now, though a breath
'Out of our stomachs concave issueth;
'Yet of our substance it transporteth nought:
'Onely it seemeth to be simply fraught,
'And to retaine the purer qualities
'Of the inward place whence it derived is,
'Inspired by that breath: this breath desire
'I to describe; who so doth not admire
'His spirit, is spriteless [...], an [...] his sense is past,
'Who hath no sense of that admired blast.
'Yet wot I well, that as an eye perceives
'All but it selfe, even so our soule conceives
'All, save her owne selfe essence; but the end
'Of her owne greatnesse cannot comprehend.
'Yet as a sound eye, voyd of vicious matter,
'Sees (in a sort) it selfe in glasse or water:
'So, in her sacred works (as in a glasse)
'Our soule (almost) may see her glorious face.
'Mans compleate nature, imitates the best
'And fairest workes of the Almightiest,
'By rare effects beares records of its linage
'And high descent; and that Gods sacred Image
'Was in mans soule ingraven, when first his spirit
'(The spring of life) did in mans limbs inspire it:
'For as Gods beauties are past all compare,
'So is mans soule all beautifull and faire.
'As God's immortall; and is never idle:
'Mas soul [...]'s immortall; and can brooke no bridle,
'Of Sloth, to curb her busie intellect,
'He Ponders all; she poizeth each effect,
'And mans mature and setled Sapience
'Hath some Alliance with Gods providence:
'God workes by reason; man his rule, God's glory
'Of the heav'nly Stages; man of th' earthly story;
'God's great high-Priest; man his great Vicar here,
'God's Soveraigne Prince; & man his Viceroy deere.
'O man! assoone as God had framed thee,
'Into thy hands he put this Monarchy;
'Made all the creatures know thee for their Lord,
'And come before thee of their owne accord:
'And gave thee power (as Master) to impose
'Fit sensefull names unto the hoast that rowes,
'In watery Regions; and the wandring heards,
'Of Forrest people, and the painted Birds.
'O too-too happy! had that fall of thine
'Not canceld so the Character Divine.
'But sith our Soules now-sin-obscured light
'Shines through the Lanthorn of our flesh so bright,
'What sacred splendor will this Star send forth,
'When it shall shine without this vaile of earth?
'The Soule here lodg'd, is like a man that dwells;
'In an ill Aire, annoy'd with noysome smells;
'Never in health, not halfe an houre together:
'Or (almost) like a Spider, who confin'd,
'In her webs Center, shak't with every winde;
'Moves with an instant, If the buzzing flye
'Stir but a string of her Lawne Canopie,
'Yet without woman man's but halfe a man,
'But a wild wolfe, but a Barbarian,
'Brute, ragefull, fierce, moody, melancholike,
'Hating the light; whom nought but naught could like:
'Borne solely for himselfe, bereft of sence,
'Of heart, of Love, of life, of Excellence.
'God therefore, not to seeme lesle liberall,
'To man, then else to every animall;
'For perfect patterne of a holy Love,
'To Adams halfe, another halfe he gave,
'Ta'en from his side, to binde (through every age)
'With kinder Bonds the sacred Marriage.
'For, God empal'd our Grandsires lively looke,
'Through all his Bones a deadly chilnesse strooke,
'Siel'd-up his sparkling eyes with Iron bands,
'Led downe his feet (almost) to Lethi sands;
'In Briefe; so numm'd his Soul's and Body's sense,
'That (without paine) opening his side, from thence
'He tooke a Rib, which rarely he refin'd,
'And thereof made the mother of mankinde:
'Graving so lively on the living bone,
'All Adams beauties; that, but hardly, one
'Could have the lover from the love descry'd,
'Or knowne the Bridegroome from his gentle Bride:
'Saving that she had a more smiling Eye,
'A smother Chin, a Check of purer dye,
'A fainter Voyce, a more inticing face,
'A deeper Tresse, a more delighting grace,
'And in her bosome (more then Lily-white)
'Two swelling Mounts of Ivory, panting light.
'Now, after this ptofound and pleasing Trance,
'No sooner Adams ravisht eyes gan glanc [...],
'On the rare beauties of his new-com halfe,
'But in his heart he gan to leap and laugh,
'Kissing her kindly, calling her his life,
'His Love, his stay, his rest, his weale, his wife,
'His other-selfe, his helpe (him to refresh)
'Bone of his bone, flesh of his very flesh.
'Source of all Joyes! sweet Hee-shee coupled one,
'Thy sacred birth I never thinke upon,
'But (ravish't) I admire how God did then
'Mike two of one, and one of two againe.
'O blessed Bond! Oh happy marriage!
'That dost the match twixt Christ and us presages!
'O chastest friendship, whose pure flames impart
'Two soules in one, two hearts into one heart!
'O holy knot, in Eden instituted
'(Not in this earth with Blood and wrongs polluted,
'Profan'd with mischiefes▪ the prescene of Hell
'To cursed creatures that against heaven rebell)
'O sacred Cov'nant, which the sin-lesse Sonne
'Of a pure Virgin (when he first begun
'To publish proofes of his dread power Divine,
'By turning water into perfect wine,
'At lesser Cana) in a wondrous manner,
'Did with his presence sanctifie and honour;
'By thy deare favour, after our decease,
'We leave-behind our living Images,
'Change war to peace, in kindred multiply,
'And in our Children live eternally.
'By thee, we quench the wilde and wanton fires,
'that in our Soule the Paphian shot inspires:
'And taught (by thee) a love more firme and fitter,
'We find the Mel more sweet, the Gall lesse bitter,
'Which here (by turnes) heape up our humane life
'Ev'n now with joyes, anon with jars and strife.
'This done, the Lord Commands the happy paire
'With chaste embraces to replenish faire,
'Th'unpeopled world; that while the world endures
'Here might succeed their living portraitures.
'He had impos'd the like precept before,
'On th'irefull droves that in the desarts roar,
'The feth'red flocks, and fruitfull-spawning legion,
'That live within the liquid Christall Region,
'Thenceforth therefore, Beares, Beares ingendered;
'The Dolphins Dolphins; Vultu [...]es, Vultures bred;
'Men, men: and nature with a change-lesse course,
Still brought forth Children like their Ancestors.
'So morne and evening the sixt day conclude,
'And God perceiv'd that all his workes were good.
Now'tis apparent why the smooth fac'd wench
Upon this day hath the preheminence,
Of other plannets, for she governs those
That unto venery themselves dispose,
As fidlers, Players, Jewellers, Dyers,
Painters, Dancers, whores, and Cupids Squiers:
Her birth was rare: she came of the Seas frath,
Produc't by Saturne, for when he was wrath,
Hee cast his Fathers members in the Sea,
Of which (as Poets say) came this faire shee,
'Faire dainty Venus, whose free vertues milde,
'With happy fruit gets all the world with childe.
'Whom wanton dalliance, dancing and delight,
'Smiles, witty wiles, Youth, love, and Beauty bright
'(With soft blind Cupids evermore consort)
'Of lightsome day opens and shuts the Port:
'For hardly dare her silver doves goe far,
'From bright Apollo's glory beaming Car,
O Lord, how wonderous are thy workes Divine!
How in all creatures doth thy glory shine!
This day a lone doe's thy rare works declare,
Thy goodnesse unto sinfull men who are
Depriv'd, bereav'd of that most glorious forme,
With which thou didst this day his soule adorne.
O grant that I may labour to repaire
Thy Image in me, and in Christ seeme faire,
And that like Venus in faire vertues race,
Igoe not far from Christ the Son of Grace:
But keepe (I pray) my body and my minde
From sinfull lust O rather let me finde,
A vertuous, Carefull, honest, loving Mate,
In Joy and peace to spend this mortall state.

Saturday or Dies Sabbati.

THe cunning Painter, That with curious care,
'Limming a Land scape, various, Rich, and rāre,
'Hath set a worke, in all and every part,
'Invention, Judgement, Nature, Use, and Art;
'And hath at length (t'immortallize his name)
'With weary Pencill perfected the same;
'Forgets his paines; and, inly fill'd with glee,
'Still on his Picture gazeth greedily.
'First, in a Mead he markes a frisking Lamb,
'Which seemes, (though dumb) to bleat unto the dam,
'Then he observes a wood, seeming to wave:
'Then th'hollow bosome of some hideous cave:
'Here a high-way, and there a narrow path:
'Here pines, there oakes torne by tempestuous wrath:
'Here from a craggy Rocks steep-hanging Bosse
'Thrumm'd halfe with Ivy, halfe with crisped Mosse)
'A silver Brooke in broken streames doth gush,
'And headlong downe the horned Cliff doth rush,
'Then, winding thence above and under ground,
'A goodly Garden it bemoateth round:
'There on his knee (behind a Box-tree shrinking)
'A skillfull Gunner with his left eye winking,
'Levells directly at an Oke hard by,
'Whereon a hundred groaning Culvers cry;
'Downe falls the Cock, up from the Touch-pan flies,
'A Ruddy flash that in a moment dies.
'Off goes the gun, and through the Forrest rings;
'The thundring Bullet, borne on fiery wings:
'Here, on a greene, two Striplings, stripped light,
'Run for a prize with laboursome delight;
'A dusty cloud about their head doth floe
'(Their Feet, and head, and hands, and all doe goe)
'They swelt in sweat; and yet the following rout
'Hastens their haste, with many a cheerefull shour.
'Here six pyed Oxen, under painefull Yoke,
'Rip up the folds of Ceres winter Cloak.
'Here in the shade a pretty Shepheardesse,
'Brings softly home her bleating happinesse;
'Still as she goes, she spins; and as she spins,
'A Man would think some Sonnet she begins,
'Here runs a River, there springs forth a fountaine,
'Here vailes a Valley, there ascends a mountaine,
'Here smokes a Castle, there à City fumes,
'And here a Ship upon the Ocean loomes.
'In briefe, so liv'ly Art hath nature shap't,
'That in his worke, the workmans selfe is rapt,
'Unable to looke off; for looking still,
'The more he lookes, the more he findes his skill:
'So th'Architect (whose glorious workman ships,
'My Cloudy Muse doth but too-much eclipse)
'Having with Pain-lesse paine, and carelesse care
'In these six dayes, finish't the Table faire
'And infinite of the universall Ball,
'Rested this day, to' admire himselfe in all:
'And for a season, eying nothing else,
'Joyes in his worke, sith all his worke excells
'(If my dull, stutting, frozen eloquence
'May dare conjecture of his high intents)
'One while, hee sees how the ample Sea doth take.
'The liquid homage of each other lake;
'And how againe the heav'ns exhale, from it,
'Aboundant vapours (for our benefit:)
'And yet it swells not for those tribute streames,
'Nor yet it shrinks not for those boyling beames;
'There sees he th'O ean, peoples plenteous broods,
'And shifting courses of the [...] and sloods;
'Which with inconstant glances night and day,
'The lower Plannets forked front doth sway.
'Anon, upon the flowery Plaines hee lookes,
'Laced about with snaking silver Brookes,
'Now, he delights to see foure Brethrens strife,
'Cause the worlds peace, and keepe the world in life:
'Anon, to see the whirling Spheares to roule,
'With restlesse dances about either Pole;
'Whereby, their Cressers (carryed divers wayes)
'Now visit us, Anon th' Antipodes.
'It glads him now, to note, how th'Orbe of flame,
'Which gires this Globe, doth not enfire the frame:
'How th'aires glib-gliding firmelesse body beares,
'Such store of fowles, haile-stormes and floods of teares,
'How th'heavy water, pronest to descend,
'Twixt Aire and earth is able to depend.
'And how the dull earths proplesse massie Ball,
'Stands steddy still, just in the midst of all.
'Anon his nose is pleas'd with fragrant sents
'Of Balme, and Basill, Mirrh, and Frankincense,
'Thyme, Spiknard, Hysop, Savory, Cinamon,
'Pink, Violet, Rose, and Clove-Carnation.
'Anon, his ear's charm'd with the melody
'Of winged consorts-curious harmony:
'For, though each Bird, guided with Art-lesse Art,
'After his kind, observe a song apart,
'And yet the burden of their severall layes
'Its nothing but the heav'n-Kings glorious praise.
'In briefe th'Almightie's eye, and Nose, and Eare,
'In all his workes, doth nought see, sent, or heare,
'But showes his greatnesse, Savors of his grace,
'And sounds his glory, over every place.
'But above all, Mans many beauteous features
'Detaine the Lord more then all other creatures:
'Man's his owne Minion; Man's his sacred Type:
'And for mans sake, he loves his workemanship:
'Not that I meane to faine an idle God,
'That lurks in heav'n and never lookes abroad,
'That crownes not vertue, and corrects not Vice,
'Blind to our service, deafe unto our sighs;
'A Pagan Idoll, voyd of power and Piety,
'A sleeping Dormouse (rather) a dead Deity;
'For though (alas) sometimes I cannot shun;
'But some prophane thoughts in my mind will run,
'I never thinke on God, but I conceive
'(Whence cordiall comforts Christians soules receive)
'In God, Care, Counsell, Justice, Mercy, Might,
'To punish wrongs and Patronize the right:
'Sith Man (but Image of the Almightiest)
'Without these gifts is not a man, but Beast.
'God is not sitting (like some Earthly state)
'In proud Theater him to recreate
'With curious objects of his eares and eyes
'(Without disposing of the Comedies)
'Content t'have made (by his great word) to move
'So many Radiant Stars to shine above;
'And on each thing with his owne hand to draw.
'The sacred text of an eternall Law:
'Then, bosoming his hand to let them slide,
'With raines at will, whether that Law shall guide:
'Like one that lately having forc't some lake,
'Through a new Channell a new course to take,
'Takes no more care thenceforth to those effects,
'But lets the streame run where the ditch directs.
'The Lord our God wants neither diligence,
'Nor love, nor Care, nor power, nor providence,
'Hee prov'd his power, by making all of nought
'His diligence, by ruling All he wrought:
'His care in ending it in six dayes space;
'His love in building it for Adams race,
'H [...] providence (Maugre Times wastfull rages)
'Preserving it so many yeares and Ages.
'For, O! how often had this goodly Ball
'By his owne greatnesse caus'd his proper fall?
'How often had this world deceast, except
'Gods mighty Armes had it upheld and kept?
'God is the Soule, the life, the strength, and sinnew,
'That quickens, moves, and makes this frame continue.
'God's the maine spring, that maketh every way,
'All the small wheeles of this great Engin play▪
'God's the strong Atlas, whose unshrinking shoulders
'Have beene and are heav'ns heavy Globes upholders.
'God makes the fountaines run continually,
'The dayes and nights succeed incessantly:
'The Seasons in their season he doth bring,
'Summer and Autumn, Winter, and the Spring:
'God make's th'earth fruitfull, and he makes the earth's
'Large sides not yet faint for so many births.
'God makes the Sun and Stars, though wondrous hot,
'That yet their heat, themselves inflameth not;
'And that their sparkling beams prevent not so,
'With woefull flames, the last great day of woe,
'And that (as mov'd with a contrary wrest)
'They turne at once both North, and East and West:
'Heav'ns constant course, his heast doth never break:
'The floting water waiteth at his beck:
'Th' Aire's at his call, the fire at his command,
'The earth is his; and there is nothing fam'd
'In all these kingdomes, but is mov'd each houre,
'With secret touch of his eternall power.
'God is the Judge, who keepes continuall Sessions,
'In every place to punish all transgressions;
'Who void of Ignorance and Avarice,
'Not won with bribes, nor wrested with device,
'Sans feare, or favour; hate, or partiall Zeale;
'Pronounceth judgements that are past appeal.
'Himselfe is judge, Jury, and witnesse too,
'Well knowing what we all think, speake, or doe:
'He sounds the deepest of the doublest heart,
'Searcheth the Reins, and sifteth every part:
He sees all secrets, and his Lynx-like eye
(Yer it be thought) doth every thought descry:
His sentence giv'n, doth never prove in vaine;
For, all that heav'n, earth, ayre and sea containe,
Serve him as Sergeants; and the winged Legions
That soar above the bright star-spangled Regions,
Are ever prest, his powerfull ministers:
And (lastly) for his executioners,
Satan assisted with th'infernall band,
Stands ready still to finish his command.
God (to be briefe) is a good Artizan,
That to his purpose aptly mannage can,
Good or bad tools: for, for just punishment,
He armes our sins, us sinners to torment.
And to prevent th'ungodly's plot, sometime
He makes his foes, (will nill they) fight for him.
Though then, the Lords deep wisdome, to this day,
Worke in the worlds uncertaine certaine sway.
Yet must we credit, that his hand compos'd
All in six dayes, and that he then repos'd;
By his example, giving us behest
On the seventh day for evermore to rest:
For, God remembred that he made not man
Of stone or steel, or brasse Corinthian:
But lodg'd our soule in a fra [...]le earthen masse,
Thinner than water, britler than the glasse.
He knowes our life is by nought sooner spent.
Than having still our minds and bodies bent.
A souldier that a season still hath laine,
Comes with more fury to the field againe:
Even so, this body, when (to gather breath)
One day in sev'n at rest it sojourneth;
It recollects his powers, and with more cheer
Falls the next morrow to his first career,
But the chiefe end this precept ayms at, is
To quench in us the coals of covetize;
That while we rest from all prophaner arts,
Gods Spirit may worke in our retired hearts;
That we down-treading earthly cogitations,
May mount our thoughts to heav'nly meditations.
Following good Archers guize, who shut one eye,
That they the better may their marke espie.
For, by th'Almighty, this great holy day
Was not ordain'd to dance, to maske and play,
To slug in sloth, to lash out in delights,
And loose the reines to raging appetites:
To turne Gods feasts to filthy Lupercalls,
To frantike Orgies, and fond Saturnalls:
To d [...]zle eyes with our vain-glorious splendor,
To serve strange gods, or our ambition tender;
As the irreligion of loose times hath since
Chang'd the prime Churches chaster innocence.
God would that men should in a certaine place
This day assemble as before his face,
Tending an humble and attentive eare
To learne his great names dear-dread loving-feare:
He would that there the faithfull Pastor should
The Scriptures marrow from the bones unfold,
That we might touch with fingers (as it were)
The sacred secrets that are hidden there.
For, though the reading of those holy lines
In private houses somewhat move our minds;
Doubtlesse, the doctrine preach'd doth deeper pierce,
Proves more effectuall, and more weight it bears.
He would that there in holy Psalmes we sing
Shrill praise and thanks to our immortall King,
For all the liberall bounties he bestow'th
On us and ours, in soule and body both:
He would that there we should confesse his Christ
Our only Saviour, Prophet, Prince and Priest,
Solemnizing (with sober preparation)
His blessed seales of reconciliation:
And in his Name, beg boldly what wee need,
(After his will) and be assur'd to speed;
Sith in th'exchequer of his clemency
All goods of fortune, foule and body ly.
He would this Sabb [...]th should a figure be,
Of the blest Sabbath of eternitie.
That the grand Iubile, the feast of feasts,
Sabbath of Sabbaths, endlesse rest of rests;
He would this day, our soule (sequestered)
From busie thoughts of worldly cares) should read
In heav'ns bow'd arches, and the elements,
His boundlesse bounty, power and providence,
That every part may (as a Master) teach
th'illiterate, rules past a vulgar reach.
The world's a Schole, where (in a generall story)
God alwayes reads dumb lectures of his glory.
The world's a booke in Folio printed all
With God's great works in Letters capitall.
Each creature is a page; and each effect
A faire character, voyd of all defect.
Heare this dumb Doctor, study in this booke,
Where day and night thou maist at pleasure looke.
And thereby learne uprightly how to live;
For every part doth speciall lessons give,
Even from the gilt studs of the firmament,
To the base centre of our element.
The reasons why the Sages on this day
Doe place the Planet Saturne, to beare sway
Are most conspicuous, hence I'll show his birth;
Coelum begot him, Vesta brought him forth,
He was produced of the earth and sky,
Being the foundation of the progeny,
Of heathen Gods, as Pluto, Neptune, Iove,
And Venus her fairefelfe, goddesse of Love.
The time he liv'd was call'd the golden age;
For, earth brought fruit without the Plowes tillage,
Men peacefull were, and did to rest repose,
But by his sonnes there much contention rose:
Ingenious Saturne Spouse of memory,
Father of th'age of gold though coldly dry,
Silent and sad, bald hoary wrinckle faced,
Yet art the first amongst the Planets placed;
And thirty yeeres his leaden coach doth run,
Yer it arrive where his carere begun.
He governes Moores, Monks and the antient Jewes.
Decrepid old men, and all those that use
To worke in Leacher, earth, or on a grave,
To show that mens desire is rest to have.
Therefore the use of this day shall be this,
To contemplate of heavens glorious blisse;
You heathen Poets, henceforth let be dumb
Your fabled praises of Elizium;
For, the Almighty made his blissefull bowers
Better, far better, than what's fain'd of yours.
Your's but a shadow, and a fabled story,
But this is perfect reall solid glory:
For never any eye, nor eare nor heart
Could see, heare or perceive of the least part
Of that great glory, yet I doe admire,
How heathen men so highly should aspire:
For in their fained stories they suppose,
Strange blessings love on their just men bestowes.
Great Iove is he that rules the ayre and sky,
And is adorned with great Majesty.
In his right hand is the Amalthean horne,
But in his left, thunder and furie's borne.
He can command all other heathen gods,
Rewarding Vertue, Vice correct with rods.
With thundring stormes he makes the earth to shake,
And in his fury Pluto's selfe to quake:
But in his clemency he powreth downe
Sweet Honey Nectar, Vertues head to crowne
His palace he doth keepe in royall sort,
For all the Gods attend upon his court.
Pallas for wisdome, Venus for beauties grace,
Mercury there for eloquence hath place,
Bacchus for joy, Vulcan the fiery God
For zeale: for love Cupid hath there abode.
Pan and Apollo with their musique shrill,
Doe all heav'ns Court with blissefull pleasure fill.
Thus are Pandora's, or the vertuous blest,
And live with Iove in a perpetuall rest.
But whither doe I run out of my story,
Thus to insist on heathens f [...]ined glory?
O! let me now with eye of faith behold
A glorious city all of beaten gold.
The walls of Jasper, and the gates shin'd bright,
Being twelve in number, each a Margarit:
The streets and lanes were paved every one
With gold, inlaid with pearles and pretious stone.
There is no need of Sun or Moone, or Star,
For Christs bright glory passeth all these far
Who sits i'th midst, and shineth cleare and bright,
There is no darknesse, nor no dismall night.
And from Christs throne, a stream of water cleare,
Doth flow as Christall, and there doth appeare,
Upon each bancke the Tree of life to grow,
Which beares perpetuall fruit, there is no wo,
No griefe nor sorrow, nor the dreadfull feare
Of death or danger, as we live in here.
This Citie's breadth and length both equall are,
Twelve thousand furlongs, each it is foure square:
And there the Saints keep a perpetuall feast,
With joy and rest that cannot be exprest.
Thus is this happy place describ'd by Iohn,
In the last Tract of his blest vision.
By the most glorious things, that we doe know
The glorious blessednesse thereof to show.
Now learn'd Dwines say man by his creation
Hath in three places his aboad and station:
The first is in a narrow darksome place,
The second's in this faire worlds mantled face.
Coelum Empyreum is the last, which is
In life to come, place of eternall blisse.
Now, what proportion this life doth surpasse,
The life we had in that most narrow place:
The same and much more to the Saints are giv'n
In that most glorious happy place call'd heav'n:
For this worlds globe compared to heav'n bright,
Is but a point, a pricke voyd of true light:
So I conclude, as this world doth exceed
My mothers wombe wherein shee did me breed,
For beauty, pleasure, joy, delight and blisse,
So doth that palace far surmount all this.
And as a living man in wit and strength,
Beauty and learning bodies, breadth and length,
Doth farre exceed a childe in's mothers belly,
So, and much more Saints in this royall City
Doe far excell men on this earthly st [...]tion
In beauty, knowledge, and in true salvation:
And as great horror would a Saint be in,
To come from heav'n to earth to live in sin:
As a man growne would feare to goe againe
Into his mothers womb, there to remaine:
And as the nine moneths there compar'd unto
An old mans life is little: even so,
And more, Eternity doth passe all time
That men here live, why should I then thus rime,
To make conjecture what the learned are
Ignorant of, and I in wit am bare,
Therefore I'll leave to speake of this blest place,
And view the jewels in this golden case:
First, there's the presence of the Lord of hoast [...].
I meane the Father, Sonne and holy Ghost,
The Fathers Majesty and glorious might,
And Christ at's right hand deckt with wondrous light.
The Spirit in milk white robes of sanctity,
One God in three, and three in unity;
On either side a quier of Angels sings,
Archangels, Cherubins and Seraphins,
The soules of righteous men and blessed Saints,
Apostles, Prophets, Martyrs, Innocents,
There shall appeare with crownes upon their heads
For their victorious acts and worthy deeds;
These keepe a Sabbath in eternall iest,
Such glorious joy can never be exprest.
There's rest, no toyle, there's joy without all paine,
Peace without strife, content that is not vaine.
There's safety without feare, blisse without end,
O! that God would my poore soule thither send.
For here I labour, and have seldome peace,
Content's a rare thing, vaine lasts never cease;
But there I should hold a perpetuall feast,
Sing such a sacred song as heav'n likes best,
Weare such a crowne as never should decay,
Possesse a dwelling that ne'r falls away,
Fully enjoy God, and see his bright face,
Whose presence onely makes a happy place.
Therefore the godly say, it is small paine
Hell torments to endure, this to obtaine.
Therefore I humbly pray I may so here
Upon the earth live, that I may appeare
After my soule hath put off's mortall case,
Pure and unspotted in this resting place;
[...] should I truly keepe a Sabbath day,
And in bright glory ever rest for ay.
[...] with the Prophets, and Apostles zealous,
[...] Constant Martyrs, and our Christian fellowes,
[...] faithfull servants, and his chosen sheepe,
[...]w'n I hope (within short time) to keepe.
FINIS.

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