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A46242.xml
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<title>Divine raptvres; or, Piety in poesie digested into a queint diversity of sacred fancies / composed by Tho. Iordan ...</title>
<author>Jordan, Thomas, 1612?-1685?</author>
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<date>1646</date>
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<note>(EEBO-TCP ; phase 1, no. A46242)</note>
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<front>
<div type="title_page">
<pb facs="tcp:61816:1" rendition="simple:additions"/>
<pb facs="tcp:61816:1" rendition="simple:additions"/>
<p>DIVINE RAPTVRES OR PIETY IN POESIE; Digested Into a Queint Diversity of sacred FANCIES.</p>
<p>Composed by <hi>Tho. Iordan,</hi> Gent.</p>
<q>
<bibl>Demost:</bibl>
<p>Plus <gap reason="illegible" extent="1 letter">
<desc>•</desc>
</gap>l<gap reason="illegible" extent="1 letter">
<desc>•</desc>
</gap>i quam vini mihi consumptum est.</p>
</q>
<p>
<hi>LONDON,</hi> Printed by Authoritie, for the use of the Author. 1646.</p>
</div>
<div type="preface">
<pb facs="tcp:61816:2"/>
<pb n="1" facs="tcp:61816:2"/>
<head>The Preface.</head>
<l>
<seg rend="decorInit">Y</seg>OV wanton Lads, that spend your winged time,</l>
<l>And chant your eares, in reading lustfull rime,</l>
<l>Who like transform'd <hi>Acteon</hi> range about,</l>
<l>And beate the woods to finde <hi>Diana</hi> out,</l>
<l>I'st this you'ld have? then hence: here's no content</l>
<l>For you, my Muse ne're knew what <hi>Venus</hi> meant;</l>
<l>But stay: I may subvert your rude conceit;</l>
<l>And every verse may proove a heavenly baite:</l>
<l>O that ye were such captives! then yould be</l>
<l>Thrice happy: such as these are onely free,</l>
<l>Leave, leave your wanton toyes; and let alone</l>
<l>
<hi>Apollo</hi> sporting at his <hi>Helicon,</hi>
</l>
<l>Let <hi>Vulcan</hi> deale with <hi>Venus,</hi> whats to thee</l>
<l>Although shee dandle <hi>Cupids</hi> on her knee?</l>
<l>Be not inchanted with her wanton charmes,</l>
<l>Let her not hugge thee in her whorish armes,</l>
<l>But wisely doe (as <hi>Neptune</hi> did) in spite</l>
<l>Of all, spue out the Lady <hi>Aphrodite,</hi>
</l>
<l>Come, come fond lad, what? would'st thou faine espye,</l>
<l>A glorious object for thy wandring eye?</l>
<l>And glut thy sight with beauty? would'st behold</l>
<l>A visage that will make thy <hi>Venus</hi> cold?</l>
<l>If this be all, Ile give thy eye delight:</l>
<l>Come see that face that lendes the Sunne his light,</l>
<l>
<pb n="2" facs="tcp:61816:3"/>Come see that face that makes the heavens to shine,</l>
<l>Come see that glorious face, that lends thee thine,</l>
<l>Come and behold that face which if thou see,</l>
<l>Aright, t'will make the earth a heaven to thee,</l>
<l>Come see that glistring face from which arise</l>
<l>Such glorious beames that dazels Angels eyes,</l>
<l>What canst have more; but dost thou thinke that such?</l>
<l>A comely visage will not let thee touch?</l>
<l>Or dost thou thinke a Sunne that shines so cleare,</l>
<l>Will scorne to let a lesser Orbe come neere?</l>
<l>No thou mistak'st: say, dost thou t<gap reason="illegible" extent="1 letter">
<desc>•</desc>
</gap>uely thirst,</l>
<l>For him?: I dare avouch hee lov'd thee first,</l>
<l>Be not dismaid, It needes no more dispute,</l>
<l>Come give this glorious face a kinde salute.</l>
</div>
</front>
<body>
<div type="poem">
<pb n="3" facs="tcp:61816:3"/>
<head>THE WORLDES METAMORPHOSIS.</head>
<l>
<seg rend="decorInit">B</seg>Efore all time,<note place="margin">
<hi>The</hi> Chaos.</note> when every thing did lye,</l>
<l>Wrapt in a <hi>Chaos</hi> of deformity,</l>
<l>When all things nothing were, and could pre<g ref="char:EOLhyphen"/>sent</l>
<l>No comely frame, no heaven, no element,</l>
<l>No earth, no water, fire or ayre alone</l>
<l>But all as twere compounded all in one,</l>
<l>Then with a word our <hi>Tri-une Iove</hi> did bring,</l>
<l>This nothing <hi>Chaos</hi> into every thing;</l>
<l>Yea then our great <hi>Iehovah</hi> did present</l>
<l>A severall region to each element,</l>
<l>Then Time, his houres began to measure out,</l>
<l>And he most nimbly garison'd about,</l>
<l>This new created Orbe: he tooke his flight</l>
<l>And hurried restlesse on both day and night,</l>
<l>His motion was so quicke, that scarce twas ey'd,</l>
<l>He for ten thousand worlds won't squint aside,</l>
<l>Nor once turne backe his head; by chance I viewd</l>
<l>His flight, his wings I thought were then renewd,</l>
<l>
<pb n="4" facs="tcp:61816:4"/>Yea his unwearied feathers did so soare</l>
<l>Swiftly, as if they never flew before,</l>
<l>As when the <hi>Thracians</hi> from their snaky bow</l>
<l>Did make there featherd darts so swiftly goe,</l>
<l>That they out ranne all sight, so time did flie,</l>
<l>As if he strove with winged <hi>Mercurie</hi>;</l>
<l>No weapon all this while for his defence</l>
<l>He bore, he dealt with none but innocence,</l>
<l>And now those feggy mists that so did lye,</l>
<l>Cloyster'd together from eternity</l>
<l>Were all dispersd; yea now twas very bright</l>
<l>And darkenesse was unfetter'd from the light;</l>
<l>When this was done, our great <hi>Iehovah</hi> lent</l>
<l>The world (as yet scarce made) a firmament,</l>
<l>He separated waters wondrous well,</l>
<l>Then Seas with surging billowes ganne to swell,</l>
<l>And tossed to and fro with every wave,</l>
<l>As if the fretfull region would out brave</l>
<l>Her owne Creator; they were not content</l>
<l>With their but now appointed regiment,</l>
<l>Their watry mountaines did so oft aspire</l>
<l>To Heaven, as if they would be placed higher,</l>
<l>But now great <hi>Iove</hi> lookt on they did not dare</l>
<l>Surpasse their stations, nay, nor once impaire</l>
<l>Their bounds, he quickly queld their lusty prankes,</l>
<l>And causd the waves to crouch within their bankes,</l>
<l>When he had conquerd this unruly stran,</l>
<l>Within two dayes he crownes <hi>Leviathan,</hi>
</l>
<l>King of the liquid region, and doth give</l>
<l>Ten thousand thousand more with him to live,</l>
<l>Then fruitfull earth which is the Ocean barres</l>
<l>
<gap reason="illegible" extent="1 span">
<desc>〈…〉</desc>
</gap> and heavens bespangled all with starres</l>
<l>The <gap reason="illegible" extent="1 letter">
<desc>•</desc>
</gap>unne begins <gap reason="illegible" extent="1 span">
<desc>〈…〉</desc>
</gap>,</l>
<l>And proudly danceth up the Orient,</l>
<l>
<pb n="5" facs="tcp:61816:4"/>He nor his horses can no longer sleepe,</l>
<l>But gallop from the orientall deepe,</l>
<l>He rid so fast that in few houres was spide</l>
<l>All bravely wrapt in his meridian pride,</l>
<l>But when he clamber'd to the highest brinke,</l>
<l>He view'd the fabricke, then began to sinke,</l>
<l>And all the way as hee did homewards goe,</l>
<l>He laughed, to see so brave a frame below,</l>
<l>Still whipping on his Iades, untill his head</l>
<l>Was safely laid into his Westerne bed.</l>
<l>Silver <hi>Lucina</hi> as yet did not enter,</l>
<l>But lay immured within the reeking center,</l>
<l>Whilst he had mounted on his flaming seate,</l>
<l>And viewd a glorious orbe, wondrous, compleate,</l>
<l>With that the purple Lady straight prepares,</l>
<l>Attended with ten thousand thousand starres,</l>
<l>Shee clambers up in this her rich aray,</l>
<l>And viewes the goodly building all the way,</l>
<l>Sweete smiles shee cast from her admiring eye,</l>
<l>Whilst all her little babes stood twinkling by,</l>
<l>Playing the wantons by their mothers side,</l>
<l>As if they were inamour'd with the pride</l>
<l>Of such a Fabricke: to expresse their mirth,</l>
<l>Some shot from heaven, as though they'd live on Earth,</l>
<l>This done, sweete <hi>Phoebe</hi> soone beganne to drop</l>
<l>Her borrowed beames into her brothers lap,</l>
<l>And ever since to see this glorious sight</l>
<l>One laughes at day; the other smiles at night.</l>
<l>And can you blame them? earth is spread with bowres,</l>
<l>And trees, and proudly deckt with sundry flowers,</l>
<l>Shee that ere while in dunghill <hi>Chaos</hi> lay,</l>
<l>Is now with Vi'lets purp'ld every day,</l>
<l>
<pb n="6" facs="tcp:61816:5"/>And damaskt all with Roses, yea shees clad</l>
<l>With sweeter herbes then ever <hi>Ceres</hi> had,</l>
<l>Her fruitfull wombe brings forth most dainty cates,</l>
<l>And lovely fruites, these are her comely brattes,</l>
<l>No rusticke Plowman now doth take the paines</l>
<l>To peirce her entrailes, or to squeeze her veines,</l>
<l>But heaven and shee unites, they scorne to see</l>
<l>A bastard weede, disgrace their pedigree,</l>
<l>Shee's overspread with pinkes and Daffadillies,</l>
<l>Carnations, Roses, and the whitest Lilies,</l>
<l>Those fondlings lolling in her armes doe lye,</l>
<l>Shaking their heads, and in her bosome dye;</l>
<l>These in their mothers sides doe take their rest,</l>
<l>Till they doe drop their leaves into her brest,</l>
<l>And now the little birds doe every day,</l>
<l>Sit singing in the boughs, and chirpe, and play,</l>
<l>The Phesant and the Partridge slowly flye,</l>
<l>Vndaunted even before the Faulcons eye,</l>
<l>Now comes <hi>Behemoth</hi> with his Lordly gate,</l>
<l>Gazing, as if he stood admiring at</l>
<l>So rich a frame, first having fixt his sight</l>
<l>On glorious earth, he alwayes tooke delight</l>
<l>In viewing that; and would not looke on high,</l>
<l>Nay all the glorious spangles of the skye</l>
<l>Could not entice him, ever from his birth</l>
<l>He spent his time in looking on the earth.</l>
<l>All other beasts their greedy eyes did fling</l>
<l>On lovely earth, as did their crowned King:</l>
<l>Yea now the Lion with the Lambe did goe,</l>
<l>And knew not whether blood were sweete or no,</l>
<l>The little Kids to shew their wanton pride,</l>
<l>Came dancing by the loving Tigers side,</l>
<l>
<pb n="7" facs="tcp:61816:5"/>The Hare being minded with the Hounds to play,</l>
<l>Would give a sporting touch, and so away,</l>
<l>And then returne, being willing to be found,</l>
<l>And take his turne to chace the wanton Hound.</l>
<l>The busie Mice sat sporting all the day,</l>
<l>Meane while the Cat did smile to see them play.</l>
<l>The Foxe stands still, to see the Geese asleepe,</l>
<l>The harmelesse Wolfe now grazeth with the Sheepe,</l>
<l>Here was no raping, but all beasts did lye</l>
<l>As link'd in one, O Heavenly Sympathy!</l>
<l>The goodly Pastures springing from the Clay,</l>
<l>Did wooe their mouthes to banquet, all the way</l>
<l>Was spread with dainty herbes, and as they found</l>
<l>Occasion, they would oft salute the ground,</l>
<l>Those uncontrouled creatures then begunne</l>
<l>To sport, and all lay basking in the Sunne,</l>
<l>No creature was their Lord, gaine said by none,</l>
<l>As if that Heaven and earth were all their owne.</l>
<l>Thus when this mighty builder did inrobe</l>
<l>Himselfe with night, and <hi>Chaos</hi> to a globe</l>
<l>Convert, of this he tooke a serious view,</l>
<l>And did as twere create it all anew,</l>
<l>He made a little Orbe, cald man; the same,</l>
<l>Onely compacted in a lesser frame,</l>
<l>For what is all this all, that man in one</l>
<l>Doth not enjoy. A man thats onely blowne</l>
<l>With heavens breath, a man that doth present</l>
<l>Life, Spirit, sense, and every element:</l>
<l>Yea in this little world great <hi>Iove</hi> did place</l>
<l>His glorious Image, and this miry face</l>
<l>Was heavens picture, twas this face alone</l>
<l>That still lookt up to his Creators throne,</l>
<l>
<pb n="8" facs="tcp:61816:6"/>Then God did make (a place to be admir'd,</l>
<l>Surely twas heaven it selfe had then conspir'd,</l>
<l>To finde it out,) a garden sweetly blowne,</l>
<l>With pleasant fruite, and man's exempt from none,</l>
<l>Of all these plants, except a middle tree,</l>
<l>And what can one among a thousand bee!</l>
<l>O glorious place, that God doth now provide</l>
<l>For durty clay! the earth in all her pride,</l>
<l>He tramples on: and heav'n that's so beset</l>
<l>With spangles and each glistring Chrysolet</l>
<l>Doth give attendance, yea it serves to be</l>
<l>A covering for his head, his Canopie.</l>
<l>Thus man of heaven and earth is all possest,</l>
<l>This span of durt, is Lord of all the rest,</l>
<l>Me think's I see how all the Creatures bring</l>
<l>Their severall Congies to their new made King,</l>
<l>
<hi>Behemoth</hi> which ere while did range about</l>
<l>Vncheckt, and tossing up his bony snowt,</l>
<l>Feard none: now having cast his rowling eyes</l>
<l>Vpon his Lord, see how he crouching lyes,</l>
<l>Behind a sheltring bush, he seemes to be,</l>
<l>Imploring aide of every spreading tree,</l>
<l>The Lyon which ere while was in his pride,</l>
<l>Squinting by chance his gogle-eyes aside,</l>
<l>Espies his King, he dares not stay for haste,</l>
<l>Spues out his meate halfe chaw'd, and will not taste</l>
<l>Of his intended food; but sneakes away,</l>
<l>Counting his life to be his chiefest prey,</l>
<l>It was but now the raven was espide,</l>
<l>Sporting her wings upon the Tigars hide,</l>
<l>But now, O how her feather'd sayles doe soare,</l>
<l>As if shee vowd to touch the earth no more!</l>
<l>
<pb n="9" facs="tcp:61816:6"/>See how the Goates doe clamber to the top</l>
<l>Of highest mountaines, and the Conies drop</l>
<l>Into their holes, see how the Roebucke flings</l>
<l>himselfe, almost exchanging legs for wings.</l>
<l>Why? what's the matter, that ye haste away,</l>
<l>Ye that ere while, were sporting all the day?</l>
<l>Tell me yee Creatures, say, what fearefull sight</l>
<l>Hath put you to this unexpected flight?</l>
<l>Speake, speake thou giddy lambe, wer't not thou spide</l>
<l>At play but now? why then dost skip aside?</l>
<l>What? is it man that frights you? can his face</l>
<l>Stretch out your legs unto their swiftest pace?</l>
<l>Can one looke daunt you all? what neede this bee?</l>
<l>Are ye not made of Clay, as well as hee?</l>
<l>Have ye not one Creator? are ye not</l>
<l>His elder Brothers, and the first begot?</l>
<l>Why start ye then? is it not strange to see</l>
<l>One weake-one make ten thousand strong ones flee?</l>
<l>But ah I neede not aske, I know it now,</l>
<l>You spied your makers image in his brow.</l>
<l>T'was even so indeed, no time to stay,</l>
<l>Your Lord was comming, fit, he should have way.</l>
<l>And thus these Creatures dares not come in sight;</l>
<l>Surely t'was heavens <hi>Idea,</hi> causd the fright.</l>
<l>Now see how flattering earth doth strive alone</l>
<l>To please this Lord; each tree presents a done,</l>
<l>See how the fruite hangs with a comely grace,</l>
<l>And wooes his hands to rent them from their place,</l>
<l>O how they bow, and would not have him bring</l>
<l>His hands to them, they bend unto their King,</l>
<l>But if by chance he will not plucke and taste,</l>
<l>They breake the boughes, and so for griefe they waste.</l>
<l>
<pb n="10" facs="tcp:61816:7"/>See how the little pinkes when they espie</l>
<l>Their Lord, doe Curtsy as he passeth by,</l>
<l>The wanton Dazies shake their leavy heads,</l>
<l>The purple Vilets startle from their beds,</l>
<l>The Primrose sweete and every flowre that growes,</l>
<l>Bestrowes his way with odours as he goes;</l>
<l>Thus did the herbes, the trees, the pleasant flowres</l>
<l>Welcome their Lord into his <hi>Eden</hi> bowres.</l>
<l>But all this while, the earth with all her pride,</l>
<l>Shee nor her store could not aford a bride</l>
<l>Fitting for man, no, no, to end the strife</l>
<l>The man himselfe must yeeld himselfe a wife,</l>
<l>It was not meete for him to be alone.</l>
<l>Then did our one-in-three our three-in-one</l>
<l>Cast him into a sleepe, and did divide</l>
<l>His ribbes, and brought a woman from his side.</l>
<l>When this was done, the devill did entice</l>
<l>The wife from Gods, unto his Paradice,</l>
<l>See how the lying serpent maketh choise</l>
<l>Of the forbidden tree: a tacite voice</l>
<l>It hath indeede most lovely to the eye,</l>
<l>Presents it to her, and shee by and by</l>
<l>Forsooth must taste: and so must <hi>Adam</hi> too.</l>
<l>What cannot women by entreaties doe!</l>
<l>God he intends a wife for mans reliefe,</l>
<l>But oftentimes shee prooves the greatest griefe.</l>
<l>Was there but one forbid? and must shee bee</l>
<l>So base a wretch to taste of such a tree?</l>
<l>Must <hi>Adam</hi> too? Ah see how shee pluckes downe</l>
<l>Her husbands glory, and kickes off his crowne!</l>
<l>O see how angry God himselfe comes downe,</l>
<l>To curse these wretches! heaven begins to frowne,</l>
<l>
<pb n="11" facs="tcp:61816:7"/>Alas poore naked soules, me thinkes I see</l>
<l>Transformed <hi>Adam</hi> crouch behind a tree,</l>
<l>T'is time to runne when once God doth reject him,</l>
<l>Tis not his leavy armour can protect him,</l>
<l>Heaven and hell with all the spight they can</l>
<l>Strive for revenge against this monster man.</l>
<l>O how the Creatures frowne, and bend their brow,</l>
<l>As if they all conspir'd and tooke a vow</l>
<l>Against this caytive, hearke how earth complaines</l>
<l>That shee by man is barrd of mod'rate raines,</l>
<l>Shees now become a strumpet, fruitfull seedes,</l>
<l>And dainty flowers, are turn'd to bastard weedes,</l>
<l>Disrob'd of all her glory, lost her pride,</l>
<l>The creatures now lie starving by her side,</l>
<l>O how shee sighes, and sends up hideous cryes,</l>
<l>To see poore cattell fall before her eyes,</l>
<l>For want of foode: they rip their mothers wombe</l>
<l>For meate, but finding none, doe makt their tombe,</l>
<l>Harke how the buls and angry Lyons roare</l>
<l>To heaven, and tell how man decreast their store,</l>
<l>Heare how the little Lambes which yesterday</l>
<l>Did honour to their King, and gave him way,</l>
<l>O how they begge for vengeance to come downe</l>
<l>On man, and dispossesse him of his Crowne,</l>
<l>See, see what raping and what cruell thrall</l>
<l>Is us'd: tis man alone that murders all,</l>
<l>The Lion mild ere while for want of foode,</l>
<l>Doth fill his paunch with unaccustom'd blood,</l>
<l>The wolfe which lately was more apt to keepe</l>
<l>The tender lambes, now prosecutes the sheepe,</l>
<l>Surely the ravenous beasts (did not they spye</l>
<l>The glimpse of heaven within mans purblind eye,)</l>
<l>
<pb n="12" facs="tcp:61816:8"/>Would straight devoure him, did not mercy now</l>
<l>Come downe and smooth her fathers wrinkled brow:</l>
<l>The earth would scorne to beare him, but divide</l>
<l>Her selfe, and make this <hi>Dathan</hi> sincke in pride;</l>
<l>The earth would not indure the plough to passe</l>
<l>Into her iron sides, the heavens as brasse</l>
<l>Would soone become, and both doe what they can</l>
<l>To starve up this deformed monster man.</l>
<l>See how this Caytife causeth discontent,</l>
<l>And raiseth discord in each element,</l>
<l>How often have I seene the raging fire</l>
<l>Vnto the top of highest Towres aspire,</l>
<l>And clamber mighty buildings? tis unbound,</l>
<l>Surely t' would burne the fabricke to the ground,</l>
<l>Did not our God looke from his mercy seat,</l>
<l>And make the watry sister quell the heate.</l>
<l>How is the ayre poysned with misty fogges,</l>
<l>And churlish vapours; onely such that clogs</l>
<l>The Corps with deadly humours, such that brings</l>
<l>The Pestilence, yea such that quickely flings</l>
<l>Loathsome diseases alwayes tipt with death,</l>
<l>Did not <hi>Iove</hi> fanne it with his mighty breath.</l>
<l>Harke how the impatient seas beginne to thunder,</l>
<l>As if they'd rent their prison walls in sunder;</l>
<l>See how the mounting waves doe swiftly flye</l>
<l>To heaven, as if they meant to tell the skye</l>
<l>How basely man hath dealt: O how they roare,</l>
<l>Beating their foming waves against the shore,</l>
<l>Chiding their sister earth that dares to beare</l>
<l>So base a wretch; see how the waves doe teare</l>
<l>Her bowels, and with all the spight they can</l>
<l>Strive for to drowne this wretched Caytife man.</l>
</div>
<div type="poem">
<pb n="13" facs="tcp:61816:8"/>
<head>CHRISTS BIRTH AND PASSION.</head>
<l>
<seg rend="decorInit">O</seg> Thou most Sacred Dove that I may write</l>
<l>Thy praises, drop thou from thy soaring flight</l>
<l>A quill: come aide my muse, for shee intends</l>
<l>To sing such love no mortall comprehends,</l>
<l>Guide thou her stamring tongue, and let her be</l>
<l>Strongly protected in her infancy,</l>
<l>Then shee'll tell how the King of Kings by birth</l>
<l>Forsooke his throne, to live on dunghill earth,</l>
<l>Then shee'le declare how great creating <hi>Iove,</hi>
</l>
<l>Whose starre-depaved pallace is above</l>
<l>All whose attendance is a glorious troope,</l>
<l>Of glitt'ring cherubs, unto whom doe stoope</l>
<l>Each glorious Angell, flinging himselfe downe,</l>
<l>Presenting at his feete his pearely crowne,</l>
<l>To be his pallace heaven it selfe's not meete,</l>
<l>And dunghill earth's too little for his feete;</l>
<l>Yet this great King-creating King did slide</l>
<l>To earth, and laid his Diadem aside,</l>
<l>Exchanging it for thornes, and did untire</l>
<l>His glorious selfe, and clad himselfe in mire;</l>
<l>
<pb n="14" facs="tcp:61816:9"/>At whose appearance singing Angels shot</l>
<l>Like starres from heaven (newes nere to be forgot)</l>
<l>Yea winged Cherubs from the highest came</l>
<l>As Heavens Heralds to divulge his fame.</l>
<l>All heaven did obeysance but for earth</l>
<l>(Vngratefull soile unworthy of the birth</l>
<l>Of such a babe) twas readier to intombe</l>
<l>The dying Lord, then to afford a roome,</l>
<l>Proud <hi>Salem</hi> was too high to entertaine</l>
<l>Poore <hi>Maries</hi> babe, twas kept for <hi>Herods</hi> traine,</l>
<l>And <hi>Rome</hi> that seavenhild Citty was too greate</l>
<l>To lodge this Child, tis <hi>Caesars</hi> royall seate,</l>
<l>T'is <hi>Bethlem,</hi> little <hi>Bethlem</hi> must suffice</l>
<l>To lighten <hi>Iosephs</hi> Consorts weary thighes,</l>
<l>And thats almost too proud to lodge him in,</l>
<l>No private house, but even a vulgar Inne,</l>
<l>And tha're not harbourd in the choisest roomes,</l>
<l>No, not so well as with the common groomes,</l>
<l>But this (ah most unworthy) worthy guests</l>
<l>Is thrust (and gladly too) among the beasts,</l>
<l>He that before was wont to take his rest,</l>
<l>All coverd in his fathers silken breast,</l>
<l>Is now constrained to lay his worthy head,</l>
<l>Vpon an undeserved strawy bed,</l>
<l>He that was wont to heare the pleasant tones</l>
<l>Of sweete-voyc'd Angels, now the saddest grones</l>
<l>Of dolefull <hi>Mary,</hi> mixt with brinish teares,</l>
<l>These onely these are harbour'd in his eares,</l>
<l>The Babe is scarcely borne, but sought to dye,</l>
<l>As yet not learn'd to goe, but forc'd to flye,</l>
<l>And to avoid the Tetrarchs furious Curse,</l>
<l>Hard hearted <hi>Egypt's</hi> now become a Nurse,</l>
<l>
<pb n="15" facs="tcp:61816:9"/>He that can make both Heaven and earth to dread,</l>
<l>Loe patiently takes all, and hides his head,</l>
<l>Yet hee'le returne, no, not the bitter wrongs,</l>
<l>Nor spightfull usage, nor the smarting thongs,</l>
<l>Nor sharpest scourges, no nor blackest hell,</l>
<l>Can quench the boundlesse love, nor yet expell</l>
<l>His strong affections, let the traitors set</l>
<l>A thorny crowne on's head, and also wet</l>
<l>His glorious face with spittle, and deride,</l>
<l>And scourge till blood falls trickling downe his side,</l>
<l>Nay though he be constrain'd to leave his breath,</l>
<l>And's dying soule is heavy unto death,</l>
<l>He can't but smile upon his bitter foe,</l>
<l>And love the traitors whe're they will or no,</l>
<l>Yet see how <gap reason="illegible" extent="1 letter">
<desc>•</desc>
</gap>ordid man repayeth all</l>
<l>His kindnesse, with an undeserved thrall,</l>
<l>Whil'st he (sad soule) lay prostrate all alone,</l>
<l>Fast fixing both his eyes at heavens throne,</l>
<l>And sending up such sighes, as though he'd make</l>
<l>The weakned vaults of heaven and earth to shake,</l>
<l>His sweate dropt downe like dew, and as he stood</l>
<l>He staind Mount Olives with his Crimson blood,</l>
<l>Whilst all his sad Disciples drowsy lye,</l>
<l>Scarce able to hold up a sluggish eye,</l>
<l>Now he's betraid by <hi>Iudas,</hi> he that bore</l>
<l>The bagge, and was intrusted with the store,</l>
<l>He that did scorne the traitors name, and cry,</l>
<l>Who shall betray thee Lord? Lord speake? is't I?</l>
<l>Yet now an abject Christ becomes, to be,</l>
<l>And thirty pence is valu'd more then he,</l>
<l>The bloody steward with a treacherous kisse</l>
<l>Forsooke his Master and eternall blisse,</l>
<l>
<pb n="16" facs="tcp:61816:10"/>And sould the body of a Lord so good</l>
<l>To souldiers, such as thirsted after blood,</l>
<l>And then for feare the Innocent should passe</l>
<l>Vntoucht, was straight accused by <hi>Caiaphas,</hi>
</l>
<l>Condemn'd by <hi>Pontius Pilate,</hi> to expell</l>
<l>The guilt, he washt his hands, and all was well,</l>
<l>O see what force weake water had to quench</l>
<l>His sparkling Conscience, and his flaming sence!</l>
<l>Alas not <hi>Nilus,</hi> no nor <hi>Iordans</hi> flood</l>
<l>Can cleanse the staines of such a Crimson blood;</l>
<l>No tis the streames of a repenting eye</l>
<l>Tis onely this takes out a scarlet dye,</l>
<l>Thus our <hi>Astrea</hi> stands arraign'd to dye</l>
<l>And nothing's to be heard but <hi>Crucifye</hi>:</l>
<l>When this alarum sounded to the hight</l>
<l>And heav'n and hell conspired both to fight</l>
<l>Against this Captaine, then his daunted troope</l>
<l>Forsooke their Lord, each soule began to droope;</l>
<l>Yet gracious he imparted his renowne</l>
<l>He wonne the battell and gave them the Crowne,</l>
<l>Yea he became a curse that knew no sinne</l>
<l>He was inrob'd and disinrob'd ag'in;</l>
<l>His temples crown'd with thornes, his glorious face</l>
<l>Was spit upon and beate with all disgrace</l>
<l>That abject slaves could use, and then they cry,</l>
<l>To blinded Christ who beate thee? prophecy.</l>
<l>Ah stupid soules as if that piercing sight</l>
<l>That viewes all secrets in the darkest night,</l>
<l>That tries the thoughts of every heart, and stares</l>
<l>Into each soule is now as blind as theirs;</l>
<l>Thus was he basely us'd, but all's not done</l>
<l>The hell-invented fury is to come,</l>
<l>
<pb n="17" facs="tcp:61816:10"/>By vulgar slaves the very Sonne of God</l>
<l>Is falsely scourg'd and forc'd to kisse the rod,</l>
<l>Yea he whose nostrils able are to cast</l>
<l>Out flame, and burne the world at every blast,</l>
<l>Whose mighty breath is able for to fanne</l>
<l>Ten thousand worlds, and puffe out every man</l>
<l>Like chaffe, and make the flanting world to tosse</l>
<l>Like waves, is now compeld to beare his crosse;</l>
<l>Whereon his body in a vulgar streete</l>
<l>Hung naked pierc'd with nayles both hands and feete:</l>
<l>The well of water, he that gave the first</l>
<l>To all his creatures, now's himselfe a thirst,</l>
<l>Yea he to whom all thirsty creatures call</l>
<l>For drinke, must now drinke vinegar with gall,</l>
<l>They pierc'd his side from whence came watry blood,</l>
<l>More soveraigne farre then all <hi>Bethesda's</hi> flood,</l>
<l>These tyrants thus (though to themselves denide)</l>
<l>Did make a way to heaven through his side.</l>
<l>Alas my muse for sighes can scarce prolong</l>
<l>The fatall tuning of so dire a song,</l>
<l>To see heavens faire <hi>Idea</hi> seeme so foule</l>
<l>Sobbing and sighing out his burdned soule,</l>
<l>Those eyes which now seeme dim, were once so bright,</l>
<l>From hence it was that <hi>Phoebus</hi> begd his light,</l>
<l>Those armes which now hang weake did from their birth</l>
<l>Support the tottring vaults of heaven and earth,</l>
<l>That tongue that now lyes speechlesse in his head,</l>
<l>A word of that would soone revive the dead,</l>
<l>One touch of those Pale fingers would suffice</l>
<l>To heale the sicke and make the dead man rise:</l>
<l>Those legges which now are peircd by abject slaves</l>
<l>were kindly entertaind amongst the waves:</l>
<l>
<pb n="18" facs="tcp:61816:11"/>The coate whose warmth did give his sides reliefe</l>
<l>The hem, the very hem could cure a griefe;</l>
<l>But now strength's weake, th'omnipotent's a crying</l>
<l>For aid, health's sicke and life it selfe's a dying,</l>
<l>His head hangs drooping and his eyes are fixt,</l>
<l>His weakned armes growne pale, the sunne's eclipst</l>
<l>(O boundlesse love, thus thus thou didst expose</l>
<l>Thy selfe no damned paines to save thy foes)</l>
<l>Hell fought against him, heaven began to frowne</l>
<l>And justice soone sent vengeance posting downe,</l>
<l>Who clad with fury, being angry shakes</l>
<l>Her ugly head whose haire doth nurture snakes,</l>
<l>Shee layes about her greedy of her prey</l>
<l>Quencheth h<gap reason="illegible" extent="1 letter">
<desc>•</desc>
</gap>r t<gap reason="illegible" extent="1 letter">
<desc>•</desc>
</gap>irst with blood and so away,</l>
<l>And mercy now lies cover'd in a cloud</l>
<l>And will not heare although his sighes are loud</l>
<l>(Although his cries are such that cause a stone</l>
<l>To heare, yet sinne makes heav'n forget her owne)</l>
<l>Heav'n frownes as if shee had her owne forgot,</l>
<l>Mercy lookes off as if shee knew him not,</l>
<l>He suffred paines that hell it selfe devisd,</l>
<l>So much, that justice cride I am suffic'd:</l>
<l>His tortures were so high, so great, so sore,</l>
<l>That hell cride out: I can inflict no more:</l>
<l>Which done the heavens closd up their lamping light</l>
<l>And turn'd the day into a dismall night;</l>
<l>Bright <hi>Phoebus</hi> vaild his face and would not see,</l>
<l>Wormes actors of so bloody treachery:</l>
<l>And quivering earth her wonted rigour lackt</l>
<l>And straight stood trembling at so dire a fact:</l>
<l>The buri'd Saints arose to see betwixt</l>
<l>Two dusky clouds, their glorious Sunne eclipst:</l>
<l>
<pb n="19" facs="tcp:61816:11"/>Thus heav'n it selfe with the terrestriall <hi>Ball</hi>
</l>
<l>Doth joyne to celebrate his funerall:</l>
<l>The Landlord of the globe who first did raise</l>
<l>Earths fabricke, was a tenant for three dayes;</l>
<l>But when once Christ did cease to be turmoyld</l>
<l>Heaven and he was gladly reconcil'd,</l>
<l>Mercy came dancing from the angry denne</l>
<l>Tost off her cloudy mantle, smild againe,</l>
<l>Pearch'd on her brightest throne, and makes a vow</l>
<l>To smooth the wrinckled furrowes of her brow:</l>
<l>And grim fac'd vengeance shee thats onely fed</l>
<l>With poyson, dares nor shew her snaky head</l>
<l>For feare: all angers banisht cleane away,</l>
<l>Sterne justice now hath not a word to say,</l>
<l>And now the Fathers anger being done</l>
<l>Double imbraces entertaine the Sonne:</l>
<l>As when a tender mother sometime beates</l>
<l>Her wanton boy for his unruly feates</l>
<l>Shee wipes his blubberd face and by and by</l>
<l>Presents a thousand gugoyes to his eye,</l>
<l>Shee angry with her selfe beginnes to seeke</l>
<l>His former love teares trickling downe her cheeke,</l>
<l>Quickly forgetting what was done amisse,</l>
<l>Ending her anger in a lovely kisse,</l>
<l>Doubtlesse her fondling burnes the rod and then</l>
<l>Come peace my babe kisse and be friends agen.</l>
<l>Iust so when God inflicted on his Sonne</l>
<l>His bittrest wrath, the anger being done</l>
<l>O then how soone he doubled his renowne?</l>
<l>Adorn'd his Temple with a richer Crowne?</l>
<l>Angry with those that would not heare his moane</l>
<l>Ready to fling grim vengeance from his throne,</l>
<l>
<pb n="20" facs="tcp:61816:12"/>And chide with mercy shee that once did runne</l>
<l>To hide her selfe from this his dying Sonne,</l>
<l>And for this fact would surely overthrow</l>
<l>The fabricke, did not Iustice hold the blow.</l>
<l>Thus heaven was friends againe, but sordid man</l>
<l>Poore mortall dust whose dayes are but a span</l>
<l>Doth strive against his God, like dogges that storme</l>
<l>And barke and brawle and fome at <hi>Phoebes</hi> horne:</l>
<l>Ah Lord, why are they so extreame to thee?</l>
<l>What is the cause thou madst their blindmen see?</l>
<l>Or why didst thou their fury thus inrage?</l>
<l>Because thou didst revive their dead mens age?</l>
<l>Me thinkes tis strange good God thou shouldst enflame</l>
<l>Their anger by restoring legges too lame.</l>
<l>How is it Lord thou sowedst glorious seedes</l>
<l>And loe a harvest all compact of weedes?</l>
<l>Thou gavest them life, and spentst thy dearest breath</l>
<l>For them, and now thou art repaid with death:</l>
<l>What griefe was ere like thine? would not thy mone</l>
<l>Quickly dissolve an adamantine stone?</l>
<l>Wold not those sighs (which could not peirce their eares)</l>
<l>Have turnd a rocke into a sea of teares?</l>
<l>Would not those wrongs thou bor'st without reliefe,</l>
<l>Make every cave, to echo out thy griefe?</l>
<l>For greedy Lions are more kind then men,</l>
<l>They entertaind thy limbe within their denne:</l>
<l>Forget their wonted humours and became</l>
<l>As carefull shepherdes to thy tender Lambe,</l>
<l>The croking raven, shee whose natures wilde</l>
<l>Became a tender nurse unto thy Childe,</l>
<l>And to obey thy voice the stony rocke</l>
<l>Became a springing fountaine to thy flocke,</l>
<l>
<pb n="21" facs="tcp:61816:12"/>Yea rather then thy babes shall live in thrall,</l>
<l>The very sea it selfe provides a wall,</l>
<l>The flames forget their force, through thy constraint</l>
<l>Lose heate and know not how to burne a Saint,</l>
<l>Yea when thy souldiers wanted day to fight,</l>
<l>The Sun stood still and lent them longer light:</l>
<l>When boistrous seas did shew their lusty prancks,</l>
<l>Scorning to be imprison'd in their banckes,</l>
<l>And with their billowes vaulted up so high,</l>
<l>As if they meant to scale the starry sky,</l>
<l>And boundlesse <hi>Boreas</hi> from his frozen Cave</l>
<l>Rusht out and proudly challeng'd every wave,</l>
<l>One nod of thine did quell those seas agen,</l>
<l>And sent proud <hi>Boreas</hi> to his sullen denne:</l>
<l>Thus thou the senselesse creatures oft did'st checke,</l>
<l>And mad'st the proudest pliant to thy becke,</l>
<l>For devils trembled and that breath of thine</l>
<l>Made them seeke shelter in a heard of swine,</l>
<l>They knew thy greatnesse and confest thy name.</l>
<l>Hell sent forth Heraulds to divulge thy fame</l>
<l>But man (Lord whats he made of?) stupid soule</l>
<l>Is now more greedy then the raping foule:</l>
<l>Harder then slint, his nature is so grimme,</l>
<l>That questionlesse the Lyon chang'd with him:</l>
<l>Hotter then flame, more boystrous then the winde,</l>
<l>More fierce then waves, and hels not more unkinde.</l>
<l>Yet thou (O match lesse love) didst undergoe</l>
<l>An undeserved curse to save thy foe:</l>
<l>Yea guiltlesse thou because thou would'st suffice</l>
<l>For guilty man, becom'st a Sacrifice.</l>
<l>Thou Grand Physitian for thy patients good</l>
<l>Didst mixe thy Physicke with thy dearest blood:</l>
<l>
<pb n="22" facs="tcp:61816:13"/>Man from the sweetest flower did sucke his griefe</l>
<l>But thou from venome didst extract reliefe,</l>
<l>From pleasures <hi>limbecke</hi> man distild his paine</l>
<l>Thou out of sorrow pleasure drawd againe,</l>
<l>Sweete <hi>Eden</hi> was the garden where there grew</l>
<l>Such sugred flowers, yet there our poyson blew,</l>
<l>Sad <hi>Gethseman</hi> the arbour where was pluckt,</l>
<l>Though bitter herbes, yet thence was hony suckt:</l>
<l>So have I seene the busie Bee to feed,</l>
<l>Extracting honey from the sowrest weed,</l>
<l>Whilst Spiders wandring through a pleasant bowre</l>
<l>Sucke deadly poyson from the sweetest flower,</l>
<l>Thus, thus sweete Christ, thy sicknesse was our health,</l>
<l>Thy death, our life, thy poverty our wealth,</l>
<l>Thy griefe our mirth, our freedome was thy thrall,</l>
<l>Thus thou by being conquerd conquerest all.</l>
</div>
<div type="poem">
<head>CANT. 8.7. Much water cannot quench love, neither can the floods drowne it.</head>
<l>O How my heart is ravisht! thoughts aspire</l>
<l>To thinke on thee my Christ: my zeales on fire,</l>
<l>What shall I doe my love? me thinkes mine eyes</l>
<l>Behold thee still, yet still I Tantalize;</l>
<l>Ten thousand lets stand arm'd and all agree,</l>
<l>Conspiring how to part my love and me.</l>
<l>Presumption like <hi>Olympus</hi> scales the skye,</l>
<l>A mountaine for to part my Love and I.</l>
<l>
<pb n="23" facs="tcp:61816:13"/>Despaire presents a gulfe, a greedy grave</l>
<l>Much like the jawes of the internall Cave:</l>
<l>But what of this? though hils are nere so high</l>
<l>Whose sunne-confronting tops upbraide the skye</l>
<l>Ile trample o're, and make them know tis meete</l>
<l>Their proudest heads should stoope and kisse my feete:</l>
<l>Ile stride o're cares deeper then <hi>Neptunes</hi> well,</l>
<l>Whose threatning jawes doe yawne as wide as hell:</l>
<l>Although the sea boyles in her angry tides</l>
<l>And watry mountaines knocke at Heavens sides,</l>
<l>Though every puffe of <hi>Neptunes</hi> angry breath</l>
<l>Should raise a wave and every wave a death,</l>
<l>Ile scorne his threates should stop my course, or quell</l>
<l>My pace, though every death presents a hell:</l>
<l>Yea Ile adventure through those swelling stormes</l>
<l>Whose billowes seemes to quench great <hi>Phoebes</hi> hornes,</l>
<l>Mountaines shall be as molehilles, every wave</l>
<l>Tost in the fretfull region, shall outbrave</l>
<l>No more then streames that shew their wanton pranckes,</l>
<l>Gliding along by Thames his petty banckes:</l>
<l>But grant that seas should swell, and tossing tides</l>
<l>With stormes should crush my waving vessels sides:</l>
<l>Suppose for footemen mountaines are too steepe,</l>
<l>Each hill too high, and every cave too deepe:</l>
<l>Suppose all earth conspire to stop: care I?</l>
<l>My faith will lend me wings and then Ile flye:</l>
<l>O how Ile laugh to see that mounting clay!</l>
<l>O how Ile smile at that that stopt my way!</l>
<l>O how I laugh to see the Ocean straine</l>
<l>Her banckes for to oppose and all in vaine!</l>
<l>And can you blame me? when I'me once above</l>
<l>Ile care for none, for none but thou my Love.</l>
<l>
<pb n="24" facs="tcp:61816:14"/>Thou art my path: I shall not goe awry:</l>
<l>My sight shall never faile: thou art my eye:</l>
<l>Thou art my clothing: I shan't naked be:</l>
<l>I am no bondman: thou hast made me free;</l>
<l>I am not pin'd with sickenesse: thou art health:</l>
<l>I am no whit impoverisht, thou art wealth.</l>
</div>
<div type="poem">
<head>Mans naturall infirmity.</head>
<l>WHat meanes my God? why dost present to me</l>
<l>Such glorious objects? can a blind man see?</l>
<l>Why dost thou call? why dost thou becken so?</l>
<l>Wouldst have me come? Lord can a Cripple go?</l>
<l>Or why dost thou expect that I should raise</l>
<l>Thy glory with my voice? the dumbe can't praise.</l>
<l>Vnscale my duskye eyes, then Ile expresse</l>
<l>Thy glorious objects strong attractivenesse:</l>
<l>Dip thou my limbes in thy <hi>Bethesdaes</hi> lake,</l>
<l>Ile scorne my earthly crutches, Ile forsake</l>
<l>My selfe: touch thou my tongue and then Ile sing</l>
<l>An <hi>Allelujah</hi> to my glorious King.</l>
<l>Raise me from this my grave, then I shall be</l>
<l>Alive, and Ile bestow my life on thee</l>
<l>Till thou <hi>Eliah</hi>-like dost overspread</l>
<l>My limbs, I'me blind, I'me lame, I'me dumbe, I'me dead:</l>
</div>
<div type="poem">
<head>The Melancholicke Soules comfort.</head>
<l>O That I had a sweete melodious voice!</l>
<l>O that I could obtaine the chiefest choice</l>
<l>
<pb n="25" facs="tcp:61816:14"/>Of sweetest musicke! pre-three <hi>David</hi> lend</l>
<l>Thy well-resounding harpe, that I may send</l>
<l>Some praises to my God: I know not how</l>
<l>To pay by songs my heart-resolved vow:</l>
<l>How shall I sing good God? thou dost afford</l>
<l>Ten thousand mercies, trebled songs O Lord</l>
<l>Cannot requite thee! O that I could pay</l>
<l>With lifetime songs the mercies of one day!</l>
<l>I oft beginne to sing, and then before</l>
<l>My songs halfe finisht, God gives sense for more.</l>
<l>
<hi>Alas poore soule art puzzeld? canst not bring</hi>
</l>
<l>
<hi>Thy God some honour though thou strive to sing?</hi>
</l>
<l>
<hi>The Cause is this, thou art become his debter</hi>
</l>
<l>
<hi>Heele make thee play on musicke that is better.</hi>
</l>
<l>I Cannot play, my sobs doe stop my course,</l>
<l>My grones doe make my musicke sound the worse.</l>
<l>
<hi>What nought but grones? ah shall th' Almighties eares</hi>
</l>
<l>
<hi>Be fild with sighes all vsherd in with teares?</hi>
</l>
<l>I this is <hi>musicke</hi>: such a tune prolongs</l>
<l>Gods love, and makes him listen to thy songs:</l>
<l>Tis this that makes his ravisht soule draw nigher,</l>
<l>Tis this outstrips the <hi>Thracian</hi> with his <hi>Lyre,</hi>
</l>
<l>Tis this <hi>inchants</hi> thy God, tis this alone</l>
<l>That <hi>drags</hi> thy spouse from heaven to heare thy tone:</l>
<l>
<hi>No better Musicke then thy sobs and cries,</hi>
</l>
<l>
<hi>If not a Davids harpe, get Peters eyes.</hi>
</l>
</div>
<div type="poem">
<head>The Soule in love with Christ.</head>
<l>WHat though my Love doth neate appeare?</l>
<l>And makes <hi>Aurora</hi> blush to see her?</l>
<l>
<pb n="26" facs="tcp:61816:15"/>Though <hi>nature</hi> paints her cheekes with red</l>
<l>And makes proud <hi>Venus</hi> hide her head?</l>
<l>What though her crimson lips so mute</l>
<l>Doe alwayes <hi>wooe</hi> a new salute,</l>
<l>What though her wan<gap reason="illegible" extent="1 letter">
<desc>•</desc>
</gap>on eyes doe shine</l>
<l>Like glistring starres and <hi>dazell</hi> mine?</l>
<l>
<hi>Tis Christ alone,</hi>
</l>
<l>
<hi>Shall be my owne,</hi>
</l>
<l>
<hi>Tis him I will embrace,</hi>
</l>
<l>
<hi>Tis he shall be</hi>
</l>
<l>
<hi>A Spouse to me,</hi>
</l>
<l>
<hi>All beauty's in his face.</hi>
</l>
<l>What though the <hi>earth</hi> for me prepares</l>
<l>A <hi>present</hi> from her golden <hi>Quarres,</hi>
</l>
<l>And braggeth of her earely gaines,</l>
<l>Exhausted from her silver vaines?</l>
<l>What though shee shew her <hi>painted brates</hi>
</l>
<l>And bids me smell her <hi>Violates</hi>?</l>
<l>And deckes her selfe in spring attire,</l>
<l>To make my ravisht soule admire?</l>
<l>
<hi>Yet all this shant</hi>
</l>
<l>
<hi>My Soule inchant</hi>
</l>
<l>
<hi>Ile smile to see her pride</hi>
</l>