To rest on them and theirs, lewes who did cry,
For Christ's contemned bloud, had what they sought;
"Then bloud, no burden with more weight doth lye,"
Even as they his, so was their orethrow wrought:
They by the Roman power did make him dye,
And them the Roman power to ruine brought:
Whil'st for their cause, God every thing had curst,
Rome's mildest emperour prov'd for them the worst.
Jerusalem the faire, Iehovah's love,
Repudiated by disdainefull wrath,

A bastard race did beare, whom nought could move;
A vile adultresse violating faith;

Then did the world's delight her terrour prove,
And harmes perform'd fore-told by sacred breath:
Nought rested where the stately city stood,
Save heapes of horrour rais'd of dust and bloud.

But (murd'ring saints) in wickednesse grown bold, That town which long was drunk, last drown'd with bloud;

That town by which who bought the world was sold,
Sold with disgrace, beheld her scorned brood:
Them lov'd by God, men did in honour hold,
And loath'd by God, with them in horrour stood.
Then lewes whom God high rais'd, and low doth bow,
What name more glorious once, more odious now?

When of salvation, joyfull newes were spread,
With sprituall grace, all nations to bedew,
Whil'st famish'd soules that sacred nectar fed,
The Lord strange judgements, millions made to view,
And those who first fierce persecutions bred,
A jealous God with vengeance did pursue.
The wrath that he against his servants beares,
Is kindled by their sinne, quench'd by their teares.

By him who first 'gainst Christ did ensignes pitch,
His brother, mother, wife, and selfe was slaine;
The great apostate wounded in a ditch,
Did grant with griefe the Galileans raigne;
Of him whose errours did whole realmes bewitch,
The death most vile, did viler doctrine staine.
"A monstrous death doth monstrous lives attend,
And what all is, is judged by the end."

He who made Himen's torch drop bloud, and teares,
(The nation most humane, growne inhumane)
Did bloud (when dead) at mouth, nose, eyes, and
As vomiting his surfet so againe:
[eares,
In crime, and crowne like charge his brother beares;
The bloudy band by mutuall blowes was slaine.
The king, the duke, the fryer, devis'd that ill,
The king, the duke, the fryer, the king did kill.

Whose sight is so eclips'd which now not sees,
In every kingdome, province, towne, and race,
On princes, subjects, men of all degrees, [trace?
What weighty judgements, sinners' steppes doe
Which not the crowne, more then the cottage frees?
The wicked man (sayes God) shall have no peace.
"A countenance calme may maske a stormy minde,
But guiltinesse no perfect ease can finde.”

Those temporall plagues are but small smokes of ire,
To breach a breast which is not arm'd with faith,
And are when God due vengeance doth require,
Of indignation drops, weake sparkes of wrath;
As lightning is to Hell's eternall fire,
Or to a tempest huge, a little breath.

Death each man daily sees, but none fore-sees,
The wage of sinne, the iubilee of cares,
First judgement threatned base corruption's lees,
Inheritance that serves all Adam's heires,
And marshalling (not partiall) all degrees,
The charge enjoyn'd for no respect that spares;
What agues, wounds, thoughts, pains, all breaching
breath,

Are heraulds, serjeants, vshers, posts of Death.

Death dores to enter at, and darts to wound,
Hath as the Heaven hath starres, or sea hath sands;
What though not sicke, not stab'd, not choak'd,
burnt, drown'd,

Age, matchlesse enemy, all at last commands?
O what designes the emperour pale doth bound,
Built of bare bones, whose arch triumphall stands !
Ah, for one's errour, all the world hath wept,
The golden fruit, a leaden dragon kept.

Then since Sinne's hang-man, nature's utter foe,
By whom true life is found, life's shadow lost,
A thousand fancies interrupting so,
When least expected, doth importune most:
Haste, haste your reck'nings, all must pay, and goe,
Guests of the world, poore passengers that post,
And let us strive (a change thus wisely made)
To dye alive, that we may live when dead."

All thinke whil'st sound, what sicknesse may succeed,
How in the bed imprison'd ye may be,
When every object loathsomnesse doth breed,
Within, without, that soule, or eyes can see,
To trembling nature, which still death doth dread,
Whil'st griefe paints horrour in a high degree,
The body in the bed, thoughts in it roule,
The conscience casting up a bitter scroule.

But when th' externall powers begin to faile,
That neither tongue can give, nor eares receive,
Friends (wretched comforters) retir'd to waile,
To agonize the soule alone doe leave,
Which Sathan straight with squadrons doth assaile,
Then bent to force whom first he did deceive;
Who once entic'd, then to accuse beginnes,
To wakened soules upbraiding buried sinnes.

That fatall conflict which all flesh doth feare,
By helpes from Heaven, which foughten out, and
wonne,

Whil'st soules to Heaven triumphing angels beare,
This mortall race magnanimously runne:
Of them that are to decke the highest sphere,
The soule shall shine more glorious then the Sunne.
Whil'st cloath'd with righteousnesse, a Priest, a
King,

Hell, where 's thy victory, Death, where thy sting?

O! when to part, God doth the soule permit,
Rais'd from her shell, a pearle for Sion chus'd,
She recollects (accomplish'd ere she flit)
Her faculties amidst fraile flesh diffus'd;
As judgement, reason, memory, and wit,
Then all refin'd, no more to be abus'd.
And parts in triumph, free from earthly toiles,
Yet longs perchance to gather up her spoiles.

Let those great plagues (smokes of our Maker's ire)
'Make all in time their inward state reforme,
Those plagues of which, loe, even to sing I tyre,
Ah, what doe those who beare their ugly forme!
Yet they but kindlings are of endlesse fire,
And little drops which doe foregoe a storme.
Look, look, with clouds Heaven's bosome now doth
To blow the wicked to the lowest Hell. [swell,

THOUGH thundring down those who transgresse his
And with disdaine his bounty do abuse: [lawes,
As adamants doe iron, repentance drawes
The Lord to love them whom he first did chuse ;
A space retir'd from the tempestuous waves,
The port of mercy must refresh my Muse;
Whose ventrous flight all loftinesse must leave,
And plainly sing what all men should conceive.
The Lord delights not in a sinner's death,
But sheepe which stray, toiles to recover still;
To please a sonne, who had deserv'd his wrath,
His calfe (long fed) the father straight did kill:
Not for the best whose thoughts(sway'd by his breath)
Had squar'd his actions onely to his will;

His calfe, God's lamb, were given the lost to gaine, His best sonne griev'd, God's onely Sonne was slaine.

Who can expresse, consider, or conceive,
Our Maker's mercy, our Redeemer's love,
Or of that sprite the power, which who receive,
By sacred ardour ravish'd are above;
O! to create, to sanctifie, to save,
Ingratitude to gratefulnesse may move:
Who weighs those works (else damned were his state)
Must (if no more) be griev'd to be ingrate.

First, ere by ends beginnings could be prov'd,
Whil'st time nor place, to limit nought attain'd,
All wholy holy, wholy to be lov'd,

God in himselfe, and all in him remain❜d:
Whil'st both the Sunne, and spheare in which he

mov'd,

That which contain'd, and that which was contain'd;
Truth lightned light, all in perfection stood,
More high then thoughts can reach,all God, all good.

All this alone the Lord would not possesse,
But would have some who taste his goodnesse might,
Which (when bestow'd) in no degree growes lesse;
What darker growes the Sunne by giving light?
Yet, not that grace oreflow'd, as in excesse:
All was (of purpose) providently right.
His glorie's witnesses God men did raise,
That they might it admire, him serve, and praise.

When God in us no kinde of good could see,
Save that which his, we not our owne could call,
Great was his favour, making us to be
Even ere we were, much lesse deserv'd at all;
What? since in us affection must be free,
Who dare presume to make our Maker's thrall?
He first us freely made, when nought, of nought,
And (when sinne's slaves) with his own bloud us
bought.

Though sometime some, inspir'd by God, we see,
The fruit, not root of mercie's saving tree, [ceeds;
Do gratefull, yea, not meritorious deeds;
Which was Christ's crosse whence all our rest pro-
As owing most, they should most humble be,
To him whose grace in them such motions breeds;
From whom so good a minde, and means, they had,
Where others were abandon'd to be bad.

The Lord to those whose souls produce his seale,
Doth give good things, as who them justly owes,
Bound by his promise, pleaded with true zeale ;
Which all the arguments of wrath orethrows,
Whil'st they from it to mercy do appeale,
Which justifies all that repentance shows;
God sinnes confess'd with griefe, with joy forgives,
That which faith humbly seeks, power freely gives.

He who (when pilgrims) all their trouble sees,
The faithfull souls from danger doth secure;
And them from fetters of corruption frees,
As griev'd that mortals should such griefe endure;
But now for them (whom he to save decrees)
He shall true rest perpetually assure,
At that great court which must determine all,
Even till Christ rise as Iudge, from Adam's fall.

Their bloud, which tyrants (by evill angels led)
Like worthlesse waters lavish'd on the dust,
From out the altar cries, all that was shed,
From Abel till (and since) Zachary the just,
To see the wicked with confusion cled,
When judg'd by him in whom they would not trust.
"The sorrow of his saints doth move God much:
No sweeter incense then the sighs of such."

God is not slack as worldings do suppose,
But onely patient, willing all to winne;
Time's consummation quickly shall disclose
The period of mortality and sinne,

And for the same his servants to dispose,
Else charg'd by signes the processe doth begin,
Signes which each day upbraid us with the last,
Few are to come, some present, many past.
What fatall warnings do that time presage,
A due attendance in the world to breed:
(Though oftner now) some us'd in every age,
And some more monstrous, straight the day preceed:

Ah! flie the flames of that encroaching rage,
And arme against these terrours that succeed:
For whom the first not frights, the last confounds,
As whilst the lightning shines, the thunder wounds.
Whilst threatning worldlings with the last deluge,
Old Noah scorne acquir'd, but never trust:
Though building in their sight his owne refuge,
So were the people blinde with pride and lust;
And ere the coming of the generall Judge,
To damne the bad, and justifie the just,
Even when the tokens come, which Christ advis'd,
As Noah's then, Christ's words are now despis'd.

As life's last day hath unto none beene showne,
That still (attending death) all might live right:
So that great judgement's day is kept unknowne,
To make us watch, as Christ were still in sight;
Like virgins wise with oyle still of our owne,
That when the bridegroome comes, we want not light.
"Live still, as looking death should us surprise,
And go to beds, and graves, as we would rise.”

O what great wonder that so few are found,
Whom those strange signes make griev'd, or glad,
appeare !
[found,
Though that day haste which should their souls con-
Or from corruption make them ever cleare.
If holy Ierome thought he heard the sound
Of that great trumpet thundring in his eare,
What jealous cares should in our brests be lodg'd,
Since greater sinners, nearer to be judg'd?
When will to man, or rather man to will,
Was freely given, straight discord did begin:
Though brethren borne, th' one did the other kill,
Of those who first were made life's race to runne.
Thus striving (as it seem'd) who did most ill,
The father fell, the sonne did sink in sinne.
Love Adam lost, but Cain did kindle wrath,
The author breeding, th' actor bringing death.
Thus at the first contentious worldlings jarr'd,
Of all the world when onely two were heires;
And when that nations were, then nations warr'd,
Oft sowing hopes, and reaping but despaires;
Base avarice, pride, and ambition marr'd
All concord first, and fram'd death divers snares:
"Though as a winde soone vanish doth our breath;
We furnish feathers for the wings of death."

Lo, as the sacred register records,

Strife is (still boyling mortall men's desires)
The thing most fertile that the world affords,
Of which each little sparke may breed great fires.
Yet that portentuous warre which Christ's owne words
Cites as a signe when judgement th' Earth requires,
It is not that which vaine ambition bends,
By partiall passions rais'd for private ends.

Such was the warre which in each age was mov'd,
When by preposterous cares from rest restrain'd:
Bent to be more then men, men monsters prov'd,
Who (lords of others) slaves themselves remain'd.
For, whilest advancement vaine they fondly lov'd,
The Devill their souls, whilest they but bodies gain'd;
So with their owne disturbing every state,
They bought Hell's horrors at too high a rate.

Christ came below, that souls might be releev'd, Not to breed peace, but worse then civill warres:

Broyls amongst brethen, scarce to be beleev'd;
Even twixt the sonne and syre engendring jarres.
"God must be pleas'd who ever else be griev'd;
The gospel's growth no tyrant's malice marres.
As Egypt's burdens Israel's strength did crowne,
The truth most mounts when men would presse it
downe."

Those warres that come before that fatall day,
End things begun, and endlesse things begin:
Are not us'd broils which states with steele array,
Whilest worldlings would but worldly treasures
winne.

No, even religion shall make peace decay:
And godlinesse be made the ground of sinne.
Then let the world expect no peace againe,
When sacred causes breed effects prophane.

Such warres have beene, some such are yet to be,
What must not once plague Adam's cursed brood?
Ab, that the world so oft those flames did see,
Which zeale had kindled to be quench'd with bloud,
Whilst disagreeing thoughts in deeds agree,
Some bent for sprituall, some for temporall good,
"Hell's fire-brands rage, whilst zeale doth weakly
When policy puts on religion's cloke." [smoke,
All nations once the gospel's light shall see,
That ignorance no just excuse may breed,
Truth spreads in spite of persecution free:
The bloud of martyrs is the churche's seed,
That it receiv'd, or they condemn'd may be,
All on the word their soules may sometime feed,
The word by which all help, or harme must have,
"Those knowledge damnes, whom conscience can-
not save."

When bent to mitigate his Father's wrath,
Man's mortall veile the God-head did disguise,
The world's Redeemer was engag'd to death,
And rais'd himself to show how we should rise;
Those twelve whose doctrine builded on his breath,
To beare his yoke all nations did advise,
They terrours first, and then did comfort sound,
For, ere the gospell heale, the law must wound.

In simple men who servile trades had us'de,
(The wisest of the world are greatest fools)
The Holy Ghost one truth, all tongues infus'de,
And made them teach who never knew the schools;
Yea, with more power the souls of men they brus'd,
Then rhetorick could do with golden rules,

This hypocrite huge mischiefes borne to breed,
Should look like God, yet prove a devilì indeed.

This mysterie of sinne which God doth bate,
Even in Paul's time began, and since endur'd:
Yet could not then be knowne, till from the gate,

That which then stop'd, was razde, and it assur'd;
The Romane power was at that time so great,
That of lesse states the luster it obscur'd;
The let which then remain'd, while as remov'd,
This antichrist, the next aspirer prov'd.

That spirituall plague which poysons mapy lands,
Is not the Turke, nor Mahomet his saint;
Nor none who Christ to crosse directly stands;
He whom the sprite takes such great pains to paint,
It must be one who in the church commands,
No fue confess'd, but a professor faint.

For if all did him know, none would him know,
A foe (thought friend) gives the most dangerous blow.
Ere that day come which should the just adorne,
And shall discover every secret thought,
The antichrist whose badge whole lands have borne,
The prophet false which lying wonders wrought,
The beast with the blasphemous mouth and horne
Shall be reveal'd, and to confusion brought.
"For causes hid though God a space spare some,
Their judgements are more heavy when they come."
Th' effronted whore prophetically showne
By holy John in his mysterious scrouls,
Whom kings and nations to their shame should owne,
The Devil's chiefe bawd adulterating souls;
Though scandaliz'd, and to the world made knowne,
By mingling poyson with her pleasant bouls,
Yet shall her cousening beauties courted be,
Till all at last her fall with horrour see.

The part where that great whore her court should
Vile Babylon, abhominable towne,
[hold,
Where every thing, even souls of men, are sold,
Low in the dust to lye, shall be brought downe :
Her nakednesse all nations shall behold,
And hold that odious which had once renowne;
But her discovery, and her ruine's way,
Are hid till that due time the same display.
Flie, faithfull Christians, from that sea of sinne,
Who hate the whore, and from the horned beast
Flie, flie in time, before their griefe begin,
Lest as their pleasures, so their plagues you taste;
When as the lambe the victory doth winne,
He of fat things will make his flock a feast. [bright,
This cloud dispers'd, the Sunne shall shine more
Whil'st darknesse past endeeres the present light.

Now in the dangerous dayes of this last age,
When as he knowes Christ doth to come prepare,
The Divell shall like a roaring lyon rage,
Still catching soules with many a subtile snare,
Whil'st his fierce wrath no mischiefe can asswage,
Some by presumption fall, some by despaire,
And if this time not shortened were, deceiv'd,
God's chosen children hardly could be sav'd.
Some for a glorious use who once did serve,
As starres to th' eyes, cleare lights of soules es-
teem'd,
[swerve,
Loe (stumbling blockes) from their first course did
Not what they were, else were not what they seem'd,
And justly damn'd (light's foes) as they deserve,
From darknesse more shall never be redeem'd: 4