A CROVVNE FOR A CONQUEROUR; AND TOO LATE TO CALL BACKE YESTERDAY.
Two Poems, The one Divine, the other Morall.
By R. D.
LONDON: Printed by E. P. for Francis Constable, and are to be sold at his shop, under Saint Martins Church, at Ludgate▪ 163 [...].
A CROWNE FOR A CONQVEROVR: Made apparant in these words.
‘Behold I come quickly, and my reward is with me,’REV. 20. 12.
BEhold? why Lord, is thy approach so rare,
That it deserves an Ecce? Ecces are
Vshers to admirable things. 'Tis true,
If I (with spirit-ravish'd Iohn) take view,
Of th [...]e in thy celestiall seat, thy sight
Is cleare as Chrystall, as the Sardin bright,
And rounded with a raine-bow; twice 12 seates,
(Whereon the shine of thy faire brightnesse beates,)
Bearing these foure and twenty Elders, all
With white roabes, Palmes, and Crownes Imperial,
This sure deserves an Ecce. Or at thy last
And generall comming Lord, when thou shalt cast
A [...]onishment on all things, and descend
With an Earth-shaking shout, when hils shall bend
And rocks dissolve at the Arch-Angels voyce,
[Page 2] And towers tremble at the Trumpets noyse,
This sure deserves an Ecce. But my Lord,
(Give Dust and Ashes leave to speake, afford
My frailey so much favour) when thou doom'st
A sicke Saint on his bed to death, and comst
In a particular iudgement, Lord unfold
Where lyes this word of wonder then, BEHOLD?
Christ. When your sick saint lyes gasping, and his soule,
Forsaken of the senses, when his soule
And deadly foe trumphs in h [...]s temptations,
And with distrustsand frequent perturbations
Buffets his panting faith, and shewes his sinnes
Had in their circumstances, and begins
To blast the beauty of his hope, from thence,
Implying that soule pierceing consequence
Of condigne iustice, from my deserved rod,
And askes your sick saint, where is now thy God?
Then, and even then, when his feare shaken faith,
(Save, sighes and greanes) no plea for pardon hath;
Even when your saith doth faint, and in this throng
Of fiery tryals, can but truely long
For my salvation, then when Gyants warre
Against his weckenesse, when the heathen are
Within my heritage his heart, and he
Looking upon his right hand, but can see
None that will pitty him, and on his left,
But none compassionates, seeming bereft
[Page 3] Of helpe and hope, then gets his trembling soule
To me his God, right humbly, and doth roule
If selfe upon me, as the Hart doth pant
After the brooke so doth his saith, being faint
With these hot pursuits, thirst for me his God.
Then lay I by my exercising rod,
And lend my staffe of comfort, this bruis'd reed
I breake not, but support; whilst he doth bleed,
I bring him balme from Gilead: tell me you
That modestly, yet question'd, is there not due,
To such great grace an Ecce? Even when
Your Saint lyes languagelesse, being left of men,
Tempted within, his faith, even like to dye,
Doth sore-sicke of a spirituall ague lye▪
When nature failes, and conscience gives his doome,
God hath forgot thee, then BEHOLD I come.
J Come.
TWo wayes I come: yet as in fields we see
Diverse paths pointed upon one stile be;
So, every way I to mine owne appeare,
Tends to Eternity. First I draw neere
By my sweet Spirit, the noblest company
That can be kept, and the deepe mystery
Of your sicke Saints salvation he makes plaine,
Teaching him more then's whole life could attaine.
[Page 4] When I bid death goe, then I come indeed,
And shew him my salvation, then the good speed,
Of Faith and Patience comes, and makes him cry,
Oh large rewa [...]d for little industry.
Quickly.
BVt drinke set in a thirsty labourers eye,
And not in's reach, augments his misery.
Or say a friend doe bring it, each delay
Lessens the courtesie, and makes more way
To tothers torment: therefore (thou sad soule
That sighst to be dissolv'd, and do'st condole
My long thought stay) BEHOLD! as I with grace
Doe come, so I come QVICKLY, I whose face
The Builders spat on, I the refusd stone,
(Their scourge,) will be to thee a Saviour showne.
Christian. O wounded Master! now I know tis thee
Eagle-eyed faith informes me, she doth see
The wide wound in thy side, thy holy head
Thrust through with thorns, when al thy body bled.
Comst thou deare master? comst thou quickly too?
Look soul, what he, for whom th'ast sighd doth do!
He comes, and he comes for thee, fairely greet him,
It is the Bridegroome, soule, goe forth and me [...]t him.
And my reward is with me.
The world saith still, The more haste, the worse speed,
Haste makes no waste with me; what was decreed,
[Page 5] To guerdon thy sharp sufferings, I have not
Sent by a swifter convoy, nor forgot.
As I come quickly, so, Behold; I bring
My reward with me, Triumph for suffering.
Christian.
Thy reward Lord? tis thine yet, but for mee
Thou broughtst it sure, if thine, tis mine, for wee
Were long since troth plight to each other wrong,
I sing else of thee in the sweet Love-songe.
There I protest in a truth all diuine,
I my beloveds am, and hee is mine.
But (my hearts noble Master) what may it bee
Thou calst heere thy Reward? Me thinks I see
In thy white, liberall hand a Crowne, and set
With seuen celestiall stones (none counterfet.)
Bearing these names, Election, Creation,
Redemption, and that midle Iemme Vocation.
Sanctification, Iustification, and
Glorification. Theise seuen stones doe stand
About this Crowne more glorious then the stars
And this is their Reward, die in thy warres.
For me this crowne? oh what sweete paines I prove!
Grace giues the Wound, and I lye sick of Love.
Alas Lord, my vnworthynes!
Christ. Forbeare.
Though you to Heaven might passe through humble tears
Yet in Mee all your worthinesse is come
Before my Father. I have given in the summe
Of all your sufferings, all your sighes, your teares,
Your gracious groanings, your faith-vanquisht fears;
Your prayers, your almes, your earning bowels, when
Y'ave knowne me hungry, in poore helpelesse men.
Your pious acts, which shall preserve your name
Sweet as a perfume in the mouth of Fame.
What think you this (summ'd up in heaven) will be?
Truely the Totall is Eternity.
Have you not heard of one Onesimus.
Paul did but write for him, I will speake thus
For you my deare one, Father I beseeche
Thy Mercy for this sinner. Let my speech
Phile-
Be prevalent, as with him was my word,
Which unto Faith begot him: yet afford
Mee audience Holy Father; in times past
He was unprofitable, but this last
Part of his life (full of sincerity)
Was fruitfull to the faithfull and to me.
T'was for a season he went from thee sure,
That thou for ever mightst receive him; Cure
His wounded conscience, and accept him now,
Not as a servant LORD, to him allow,
[Page 7] The liberty of a beloved Sonne.
Oh righteous Father! if this Saint hath runne
In areares with thee, if bee owe thee ought,
Put it to my accounts, for I have bought
Him highly, yet that thou sustaine no losse,
Deare Father, score his debt upon my Crosse.
Thus will I speak for him whom sin casts down,
Thus plead his Cause to whom I give this Crowne.
Christian.
But Lord, before I of this grace be sped, Admit my Faith fail, then I lose the head, (down, Should wear this wreath, faith beats all enemies And overcomes the world, to such this Crowne By promise appertaines.
Christ.
With patience sit, I that keepe it for thee, keepe thee for it.
Christian.
Then I receive it with all due regard, Not as my merit (Lord) but thy reward.
FINIS.
TOO LATE TO CALL BACKE YESTERDAY.
AND, TO-MORROW COMES NOT YET.
The words fancied in a DIALOGVE, supposed betweene A LOVER AND THE DAY.
By R. D.
LONDON Printed by E.P. for Francis Constable 163 [...].
TO MY NOBLE FRIENDS, Mr RICHARD ROBINSON, And Mr MICHAEL BOWYER.
THese Poems (true and Noble Friends) being some expence of my time at Sea, I have thus habited, to present them as my true love to you on the Land. In one morning J present you with two poems. They are Virgins that never before kist the Presse, yet now come ready prest to kisse your hands. J have phrased them rather with a native familiarity, then an impertinent Elegancy, least by disregulating Art, J had made nature monstrous. Yet where the dignity of the subiect duely invites a higher-valued language, J have (to my ability) endeavored [Page] a redemption. Were I versd in the tricke of flattery, I should have Deckt my dedication with some protestations of your worthinesse and my love But I suppose honest faithfulnesse rather blemished then embellishedwith those adulterated beauties; Favour mee to read this Messenger of my love; and more, to Accept it as the fruites of those faire respects in which (as J euer was) I am alwaies,
At your commandement a servant, ROB. DAVENPORT.
TOO LATE TO CALL BACK YESTERDAY; AND TO-MORROW COMES NOT YET.
He yesterday a Lover was,
To-morrow comes to Age,
He cals, both fayle: towards Heaven to-day
He points his pilgrimage.
Lover
HO! yesterday!
Yester.
Who cals?
Lover.
A Lover.
Yester.
Why?
Lover.
Deare yesterday come backe.
Yester.
Lover not I,
I dare not so transgresse against times glasse,
Lover
One word—but one word
Yester.
Not one: let me passe.
[Page 18] By the Dewes that deckt thy lockes,
By the Heards, and by the Flockes,
By Times oft Wel-taken Lock.
By the Swallow, Cy the Coke
That tould the Ploughman thy approach,
And that the Sunne was taking Coach,
By the Dainty-languag'd Larke.
By every thing that hates the Darke,
Good yesterday come backe.
By thy faire and lovely Face,
And by the Sun which gave that grace
Sweet Yesterday come backe.
Yest.
What should I doe?
Lov.
I gave my Mistris vowes, nay and teares to;
Bring them all backe, for (oh sad truth to say!)
She seem'd true then, I find her false To-Day.
Yester-Day.
What's this to me? their griefs they past cure find,
Who (to give love eyes) strike their Reason blind.
Lov.
I stain'd thy faire face with a foule sin, bring
But that then backe.
Yest.
Foole! hope for no such thing.
Goe grieve, goe weep; & let thy teare-stain'd face
Court Mercy, and beget thee new to grace.
[Page 19] For, to repent is nere too late, all say.
But 'tis Too late to call backe yesterday.
Lov.
Why then (my blinded Reason to restore)
I'le leave to Love, and love to sinne no more.
TO-MORROW COMES NOT YET.
Lov.
Since then yesterday is gon,
To-Morrow!
wing thee, haste, come on.
To-M.
I must not looke To-Day i'th face.
Lov.
Yet good To-Morrow mend thy pace.
To-M.
I dare not.
Lov.
Why?
To-M.
If I too swiftly passe,
I presse Times sands too hard, and breake his glasse.
Lov.
By my Hopes to thee extended.
By the Feares of men condemned.
By the Ioyes thou briug'st along.
By the Griefs that with thee throng.
By the promis'd meetings made.
By the money thou't see payde.
By their gladnesse that receive it.
By their sadnesse that doe heare it.
By thosweet Maydes languishings
To whose beds thine Evening brings
Kind husbands, To-Morrow make haste.
To-Mo.
Why?
[Page 20]Lov.
Shall I tell thee merrily?
With thee my lands come to my hands,
and sommes of money store.
With thee I'le laugh, caper and quaffe,
and never mind a Mistrisse more.
To-Mo.
This hasts not me. I must perforce refuse thee
Better not see, then see me and abuse me.
Lov.
Why then To-Morow make a friendly hast,
And my wild, rough, old WILL I will new cast.
I, that To-Day am practiz'd in the trade
Of sin, I will To-morrow be new made.
Therefore To-Morrow make hast.
To-Mo.
Thus some say,
Who are found worse To-Morrow then To-Day.
When Verbalists subdue our easie trust,
We plough in sand, and write our hopes in dust.
Dissembler cease; swift vowes we soone forget,
Repent To-Day To-Morrow comes not yet.
Lov.
Why then (to shun succession of my sorrow)
I'le be new made To-day, yet mend To-Morrow.
TO-DAY WHILE I MAY.
Lov.
Well met To-Day. Why such great hast?
To-Day.
To please
The long [...]ng eyes of the Antipodes.
And I, thatam thy Day, I am their Morrow.
The round fac'd world is look't on by us three,
I pursue Yesterday, To-Morrow mee.
Lo.
Yet good To-Day doe not so swiftly slide.
By the causes this Day tride.
By thy beauty And. by all.
Thy dainty Deckings. By the fall
Of thy sweet fertile showres. And by
Thy againe unclouded eye.
By the Birds that sing thy grace.
By the winds that fanne thy face,
By thy foure and twenty steps.
By thy minutes active leapes,
By my intended goodnesse. And
By times strickt-observed sand.
Since tis too late, as all men say,
To call backe gadding yesterday.
And since To-morrow comes not yet,
To my paine a period set.
Being left alone to thee,
Good To-day stay, be kind and pitty me.
To D.
And why, important pleader, should I stay?
Lover
I feele a noble change methinkes to day,
My soules deare Lover cals for me his choyce,
And I desire to day to heare his voyce.
[Page 22] Inlarge not then my griefes by thy neglect,
But let my high cause court thy kind respect.
To D.
This stops not me, Farewell, I must away.
Lovers call for me past America.
Love.
Why then deare lover of my soule,
(Since I cannot times controule)
Seeke thy sheep, lost in this worlds brackey ground,
Seeke him that doth desire to be found.
Christ.
Why wooest thou me? have sinners hope to speed?
Lov.
True Lord, a sinner, yet a broken Kneed.
Christ.
Thy life is spotted, foule, and blacke as night
Lov.
True Master, but thy life was virgin white.
By thy Love my hearts Delight.
By thy un-match'd excellence.
By thy victorious Patience.
By thy comely silence, when
Thou (my God) wert skorn'd of men.
By that sweet, and saving looke
Thou didst cast back on Peters Booke
Me in thy mercy. Let thy grace abound.
Seeke him, that doth desire to be found.
Chr.
Tell me oh thou for whom I bled, (I see
A Majestie in thy Humilitie)
[Page 23] And therefore tell me my lost sheep, be true,
And tell me where thou feed'st. A teare or two
Will bring thee backe. Or, if th'art gon astray,
I'le send A voyce behind thee, that shall say
This is the, way walke in't.
Lov.
I am not in
Thy SPICIE GARDEN, but a Sea of sin.
I feede not Lord amongst the LILLIES, No;
I feast with mine owne follies. Since 'tis so
That YESTERDAY I was lost in this ground,
And being not sure TO-MORROW to be found;
Deere Master, and good Shepherd; mind thy gaines,
Find me TO-DAY, and take me for thy paines.
FINIS.