English

A Confession of a Sinner, acknowledging the misery of human frailtie.

Celestiall Lord, Creator of this ALL,
Embracer, Prop, and Ruler of the same.
Whose vnseene Eye beholds the generall,
And singly seest at once this double Frame,
O vaile that Christall-cleere all-seeing eye,
On vtter-darknesse, that, Lord that am I.

Mine Intellect is darke darke my soules sight:
My body darke (darke dungeon of my soule)
Is opposite (for darknesse) to thy light,

A Sinners acknowledgement of his Vilenesse and Mutabilitie.

Spare me (deare Lord), my daies as nothing be,
Consum'd in Sin , then which is nothing worse:
Yet Sinne is nothing: yet can well agree
With nothing but thy vengeance and thy curse .

Yet is it that, without which none can liue.
Sprong from our Proto-parents (rootes of strife )
Linckt to that Curse; that Life a crosse doth giue,
not crosse of Life , but crosse in Booke of Life .

A Confession of sinnes, with petition for grace

O Trinall Vnion, God creating Gods ,
O sole resistles all-effecting Pow'r ,
When wilt attone twixt mee and thee the ods?
Till when, eternall I account each how'r .

I am (O Lord) thy Creature re-created;
Made, marr'd, re-made, by Loue by Sinne , by Grace :
Shall Loue , and Grace by Sinne be so defeated.
That Loue should lose her labor; Grace , her place?

T' INSULT vpon the wretched , is a Crime
That harsh and hatefull makes the smoothest Rime .
If One all Ils , in one should perpetrate.
His Person should be priuiledg'd from hate
In loue , that makes men God like for, if God
Be grieu'd, where he hath cause to vse his Rod ,
The griefe is for the Person , not the Paine
Which partly he, in loue, doth (so) sustaine.
He made not Death: nor, doth he take delight
To damne, for doing wrong; but, for his right
Nor, for his right grieues soules to ruinate

Now Hee's interr'd that all the World intombes,
But in the Center of his Court diuine;
Yet least Point of that Center, now, enwombes
This Lord, whose greatnesse nothing can containe!
Gods Peace be with Him, sith Hee's God of Peace,
Till by his pow'r He makes his Death decease.

Vnheau'n your selues, ye holy Cherubins,
And giue attendance on your Lord, in Earth:
Couer his Corps with your Celestiall wings,
From all that naturally annoyes beneath:

We ll, now, those Women, that were fled him fro
(When Tempests rag'd) are come, the Coast being cleare,
To pay him their last Dutie, sith no mo
They shall not (as they doubt) Him see, nor heare:
NoWeu'ry one is busied, busily,
To grace Him, Dead, that for their grace did die.

Now, downe they haue this dead Life-giuing Lord,
And now, their zeale, with diuine adoration,
Performes Loues complements in deed and word:
Now, He hath suffred, now, they suffer Passion:

And sith twixt you is such proximitie,
That thou do'st throughly taste the smart he feeles,
Ile turne my speech a while alone to thee,
To comfort thee with ioy which Faith reueales:
And though thou now triumph in endlesse ioy,
This might be sed to thee in thine annoy.

Thine Eies that see (engulpht in seas of Tears)
Griefes Obiects greater than they are indeed,
Dissolue in Brine to season so thy Cares,
That Sorrow may thereon with pleasure feed:

Now to this Lifelesse, yet Life-giuing Body
Returne my Soule; see, see, how like a Clod
He hangs, with gastly-grimme aspect, all bloody;
Ah who would weene this Man should be a God?
And yet what Man can doubt it, sith He died
As Man, for Men, that this God crucified?

What cheere O holy Marie , Gods deere Mother?
How fares thy Heart, transpiere'd with Sorrowes sword?
Thy Sonne is slain; yet sure there is none other
That kils, and straight reuiueth with a Word!

NOW hath the great CREATOR, for Mans sake,
The second Adam cast into a sleepe;
Whiles of his Heart-blood Hee his Spouse doth make;
For whom His Heart doth Blood, and Water weepe:
Which compound Teares are turn'd to Ioy, intire,
For his Heart-blood effects his Hearts desire!

Which deere desire, was one deere Spouse to haue,
To be co-partner of his Griefes and Ioyes;
Which when he wooke, his God vnto him gaue
To comfort him in comforts, and annoies:

Bvt now, begin the angrie Heau'ns to scoule,
And Phebus hides from thee his golden Head:
Now, Sathan toyles to tempt thy sacred Soule;
Now, sinkes thy Body downe, as it were dead;
Now, quakes the Earth, now rends the temples Vaile,
And now thy Senses doe themselues assaile.

Now, frownes thy Father, with a dreadfull looke;
Now, burnes his wrath, which fire thy Soule doth feare:
Now, gape the Graues of Saints, which now awooke
From out the sleepe of Death, wherein they were: