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Iesvs Praefigvred: Or A Poem Of The Holy Name Of Iesvs. The Second Booke - Poem by John Abbott

The Argvment

Of Iesvs flesh (Ambrosian meate,)
Of Bell, of Architects vvee treate.

The hovvre did novv approach, in vvhich men dine,
VVhen see a Table set vvith bread and vvine:
Besides these tvvo nothing at all vvas pla'st,
No daintie dishes to content the tast.
VVho vvould not judge such silly Cates vnfit,
For Potentates, vvhom there vvee see to sit?
But vvonder not though the fare simple seeme,
The Maister of the Feast vvill haue vs deeme
By the effects his banquets vvorth, and knovv,
That best things make not alvvaies the best shovv.

And surely Cleopatras Royall feaste,
VVherevvith shee entertain'd her Romaine guest.
Nor Assvervs banquet to his states,
VVhich sacred volume vvith such care relates:
No not the Manna vvhich the Ievves did eate,
Can be compar'd vvith this Cælestiall meate.
VVhat dyet hath such virtue as this food:
Mortall to make immortall, vvicked good?
Is your soule sicke? eat here and it no more
Shall be diseas'd; heers Physicke for each sore.
This bread makes strong this vvine our armes doth cheare
The Royall banner of Christs Crosse to beare,

VVhen as the fancy objects, vvhich are ill
Conceiues, and represents them to the vvill,
That the short pleasure of an idle thought,
May vvith the soules eternall losse be bought.
Heers Bread (vvhich God the Holy Ghost did make,
And in the vvombe of sacred Virgin bake,
Heating the Ouen vvith Charities best fire,
The fevvell vvas many a Chast desire:
The Loaues vvith name of Iesvs marked be,
Hauing his hands and feet nayld to a tree.)
In such occasions heer's that mistique bread,
In vision seene, vvhich Madians bloud shall shed.
And put the Easterne multitude to flight:
Zeb and Zalmana their tvvo chieftaines smite;
The svvord of Gedeon, vvhich loose Venus Boye
Shall profligate, his Darts, his shafts destroye.
Corne of the chosen, substance of the good,
Expelling bad desires, breeding pure blood,
This bread, proud Babylon, thy little ones
VVith holy vvrath shall dash against the stones.
This eleuated bread 'boue top of hils,
(Priests heades I meane) our vvorld vvith plentie fils.
Elias, as he fainteth, it makes strong,
To take of fortie daies a journey long.
Nay some vvho daily Guests are at this feast,
Averre for truth that vvhat meate you like best:
VVhat your taste pleaseth, bee it flesh or fish,
You shall haue here in this Cælestiall dish.
Manna such vertue to haue had, vve read
And much more tast it in this heau'nly bread.

At Easter time you joye to see your Board,
(As vvas the Israelites) vvith a Lambe stord
Prepare vvith them your selues; take in your hand
A vvalking-staffe, vvith your loynes guirded stand
As Pilgrims doe (yours is a Pilgrims case
The vvorld your Inne is, heau'n your dvvelling place)
Gather vvilde Lettice, ouercome I meane
Your imperfections, and extirpe them cleane.
Make of such Lettice sauce a Lambe to eate;
The Lambe is Iesvs, hee shall be your meate.
Iesvs hath cloth'd himselfe vvith a Lambs skin,
From Sheepe to take the heauy load of sin.
Is it not strange a Lambe should on his backe
Carrie a flocke of Sheep, and their sins pack?
Had not our Iesvs them supported so,
Not one of all the flocke to heau'n should goe.

The Eliphant by Nature hath this grace,
That in his furies heate, yet if in place
Hee shall a Lambe (milde peaces Embleme) see,
His fury is assuag'd, his angers bee
Forth-vvith made calme; perchance some fel aspes tounge
VVith slanders poison hath your credit stunge:
Or some ill-nurtur'd groome eu'n to your face
Opprobrious speeches giues, vvordes of disgrace.
Your case is Davids, Absalon his hands
Against you lifts, and the rebellious bands
Are with your chiefe friends fil'd, vvho earst did goe
Next to your side is chiefe cause of your vvoe.
And vvhere you vveare vvith benefites most kind,
There you discurtesies doe chiefly finde,
By thieuish Pursuiuants your goods you loose,
And yet the Thieues you dare not once accuse.
Per chance vvith Iacobs sons, or Davids Childe
You blush to see as Thamar is defilde
Kick'de out of doores, after a deede so ill
You vow you vvill incestuous Ammon Kill.
You rage, you chafe, you storme, you svvell, you puffe,
The foming Adria is not halfe so rough.

Come angrie Eliphant behold a lambe,
Meeke Iesvs vvho in Paschall season came;
That by his death Man might enfranchis'd bee,
And by his slaughter the bound Goate set free.
Moyses a brasen Serpent did erect,
VVhich cured Israel vvith his sole aspect.
Behold this Lambe, meeke Iesvs marke him vvell,
In him let all your meditations dvvell.
His only sight vvill cure your inflam'd blood,
Chiefely if seene vpon the Crosses Rood.
For knovv fierce Man, this Lambe is Gods sole Son,
VVho vvhen vs sillie sheepe sin had vndone,
And vvee by Tempters vvhistle led astraye
Through vn-couth paths to Hell vvent the next vvay,
To see our ruine grieuing at the hart,
VVith Fathers leaue he plai'd the Shepheards part,
Inuenting a proportion'd meanes to gaine
The vvandring sheepe, and bring him backe againe.
Hee cloths himselfe vvith shape, vvith flesh, vvith skin
VVith all of Man, excepting only sin:
And in this forme conuersing 'mongst the rest,
Hee teacheth them vvhat feeding place is best.
Sometimes in Vallies and lovv Dales he goes,
As hovv vvee should our selues despise, he shoes,
Auerring vvho to Sion mount vvill clyme,
Must graze in these lovv pastures for a time.

Of Gelboe hils he bids his sheepe take heede,
There is no saftie on those Cliffs to feed.
The fruitfull shevvres, the Devv of heau'nly grace,
Neuer refresh that miserable place.
There vve see Savl on his ovvne svvord to die,
VVhilst he the Philistæan blades vvould flie
The Hils vvith murdred VVarriors are fil'd,
Thy valiant there, ô Israel are kil'd.
VVhat are these Mountaines vvhere such vvorthies di'de,
But eleuated hils of humaine pride?
VVits, vvho doe lift themselues aboue the rest,
And euer judge their ovvne opinion best.
Such vvicked Arrius vvas, and after him
Pelagius, of the Diuell each a limb.
Vrsacius, Valens and the gelded sorte,
VVho doe frequent (Constantius) thy Court.
To Iesvs all injurious: Iesvs grace
Pelagius doth denie: the Eunuchs race
Auer that God no more then they haue done,
In generation of his only Son:
And Gods Son follovving Natures vvonted lavves,
In his eternall being hath a cause.
These and all Heretikes in Gelboe hils,
Haue fallne on their ovvne swords, I meane their quils.

Some times our Lambe on top of Thabor feedes
The flocke instructing by Heroycke deeds
Of diuine Counsails tis best there to graze,
From vvhence tovvard heau'nly Sion they may gaze:
Then he inform's them of his Royall birth,
The reason vvhy he came vpon the earth.
Hovv doth he make Celestiall Spirits mount,
VVhen hee the Eight Beatitudes doth count?
Beginning thus, the Kingdome of high heau'n
To those vvho are in spirit poore, is geu'n.
You aske vvho are spiritually poore,
VVho looking on their nothing doe not soare
VVith feath'red vvings of pride, but knovving vvell
That their offences haue deserued Hell,
They suffer injuries, that so his vvrath
They may appease, vvhom sin offended hath.
This pouertie had Israels forlorne King,
VVhen rayling Simei at him stones did fling:
Hee doth reflect as his rebellious son
Against him vvarrs, vvhat he before had done
To good Vrias, and accepts this rod,
As a deseru'd affliction, sent from God.

Marke hovv our Lambe doth earths possession giue
To those vvho on the earth doe meekely liue,
O're their ovvne passions their command is great,
I'th land of others harts they haue a seate.
Theirs is the land of euerlasting blisse,
(The vvhich alone land of the liuing is)
If poore haue heau'n, if meeke on earth doe dvvell,
VVhat place is for the angrie left, but Hell?
To Stygian pit, vvherefore doth Thubal goe,
Let holy man by God inspired shovv.
Because he had no Target to vvard blovves,
But svvordes and Launces to offend his foes.
Iesvs vvho doest our hands vvith vveapons arme,
VVhen heaped injuries sound the alarme;
VVhen vve shall suffer opprobries, vvhen wronge,
Bestovv on vs that armour of the strong
Firme patience, vvho fight couer'd vvith this shield,
Alvvaies returne victorious out the field.

VVhat vvas thy life but a continuall paine,
A lasting labour to bring backe againe
The vvandring sheepe, and put him in such place
VVhere holsome pastures are, streames flovv vvith grace.
VVhom did'st not thou instruct, to vvhom not Preach
VVhom virtue not by thy example teach?
VVhen any vvith the rot infected vvare,
VVith vvhat loue didst thou cure them, vvith vvhat care?

Herafter Pastors thou doest teach to rule,
Making thy life of eu'ry grace a Schoole.
Thou bidst them oft remember Ioathans tale,
Hovv vvhen supremacy vvas set to sale.
The Figge, the Vine, the Oliue vvould not buye
VVith their ovvne detriment a place so highe:
Only the Thorne accepteth to be great,
(Thornes vvillingly doe sit in vpper seate)
VVho follovv thee must choose the lovver end,
Vntill thy heau'nly Father bid ascend.
Thou shevvst vvherein a Prelats place consists
Not in good fare, or doing vvhat he lists,
Not to haue complacence in being first,
Rather to judge himselfe therefore the vvorst.
Not making the poore sheepe to carry much
VVhen hee vvith his least finger vvill not touch
The burthen others beare, nay the right vvaie
To gouerne is, vvhen Prelates doe, then saie.
Therefore still thou doest to thy precepts joyne
This Rule, my seruants actions be like mine.
Hee is a Monster in vvhose mouth doth stand
A tongue, in greatnesse vvhich exceeds his hand.
Hovv many such our Basan Pastures shovve?
Hovv many such in vpper places goe?
Of God and virtue they doe largely talke,
But haue no hands to vvorke, no feete to vvalke
After thy Crosse, such carry on their backe
A Pastors title, but the virtue lacke.
VVho are in seate of supreame honour plac't
Must keepe themselues from a cold Northren blast,
Icleped pride, this had his birth on high,
And euer since contendeth vp to flie.

VVhat industrie, vvhat labours doest thou spend
In gaining Iudas? as if the vvhole end
Of thy conuersing in the vvorld had bin
To make this vvretch forsake his haunt of sin:
And vvhat revvard? as Priests shall him out tell
Poore thirtie pence, he vvill his Maister sell?
And can a Lambe for such a price be sold,
More vvorth then Iasons sheepe vvith fleece of gold?
VVhen at this rate the Butchers had thee bought,
They presently vnto the shambles brought,
VVhere vvith thy death though they did meane to end,
Thy vvisdome did beyond their malice tend.
Then thou didst thinke vpon this mystique board,
Hovv vvith thy sacred flesh it should be stor'd,
Making theit furies, vvho did thirst thy bloud
The instruments of our eternall good.
And alt'ring the old rites of Pascall sheepe,,
Ordain'st that vvee a better Easter Keepe.

The hautie Pharisies full little thinke,
They make a vvine shall be soule-sauing drinke
For hated Gentiles, little doe they dreame,
From Iesvs vaines can flovv so rich a streame.
Doe you thinke Scribes vvho sit on Moyses Chaire,
That vvhen in high Priests house you joyned are,
Your consultation is, hovv you shall dresse
For Christian banquet a Cælestiall Messe?
Speake sacred Muse, hovv this great Myst'rie came,
That our foes dresse for vs our Paschall Lambe.

The cruell Knife that cut our Iesvs throate,
In Pilates Hall vvas the base vulgars note.
As they the Heau'ns astonish vvith their crie,
Let Barrabas alone, let Iesvs die.
I finde quoth Pilate of his death noe cause.
They ansvveare let him dye (our vvils are lavves.)
Bring vvater, from this crime ile vvash me free.
His bloud on vs, and on our Children bee.
Yee Impious Ievves, this vvas the sharpe edg'de Knife,
VVhich did depriue meeke Iesvs of his life.

VVhen Titvs shall your Cittie vvals cast dovvne,
VVhen fire your Temple, and destroye your Tovvne,
VVhen to the vvorlds end your accursed race
Shall vvander vagabonds in eu'ry place;
Then knovv that Abels bloud, vvhom you haue slaine
For vengeance cries against his Brother Caine.
VVhen common vveales shall make you a signe vse
To make the vvorld take notice you are Ievves,
VVhen Boyes hoope after you, Dogs at you barke,
Haue you not Caine the homicide his marke?

Before a Lambe is for the Table fit
They vse to fleye him, aftervvards to spit,
And so by gentle fires all sides to heate,
Till by degrees it be made holsome meate.
But not the most hard-harted Butcher flaies
The silly Lamkin, vvhilst life in it staies:
Oh then are Butchers, more inhumaine Ievves!
Hovv cruellie doe you meeke Iesvs vse?
As you doe make the Romaine Cohort strip,
And vvhilest he liues, flaie him vvith tearing vvhip.
From top to toe his skin they doe pull off,
His vvoundes your sport are; at his paines you skoffe:
Hovv else should his vvoes of all vvoes be chiefe:
Hovv else should Iesvs be a man of griefe?
But can your malice as yet farther goe,
Are you stil vvittie to increase his vvoe?
Though you did stab him vvith your doubled noate,
Of let him die, although pul'd off his coate
VVith many lashes, yet nor Knife, nor Rod
Quite kils the Lambe, vvho is both Man and God.
After a manie deaths life doth remaine,
That hauing killed you may kill againe.
You joye that he as yet not yeelds to fate,
That so you longer may protract your hate.
Hee joyes to liue, that vvee may see hovv much
Hee loued vs, vvhose suffrings haue bene such,
And all for vs; our sins strucke euery blovve
Our vvickednesse vvas cause of all his vvoe.

VVittie Perillus and Mezentius sterne
To torture shall of you inuentions learne.
Proceeding in your malice you make fit,
To rost this holy Lambe a vvodden spit,
The Crosse I meane, to vvhich his feete and hands
Your barb'rous hangmen tie vvith iron bands.
VVhat is defectiue novv? a flame to roast
The victime, and so consummate the Hoast:
Ith' altar of our Iesvs breast doth burne
A sacred fire, the vvhich shall serue the turne.
Not thornie Crovvne, not vvhips, not bloudie svveat,
Not Crosses vveight, but feruorous loues heate
Consumes our Lambe, as Phœnix in his nest
Our Iesvs dies midst flames of fierie brest.
For vvere he not consum'd by such a Sun,
Hovv should an holocaust be rightly done?
Vnder the Crosse to haue a place, vveel'e sue
VVhere vvee vvill immolated Iesvs vievv:
And vvhilste on each sad passage vvee reflect,
VVeele heale our sorrovves vvith his sole aspect
VVhen vvee are angrie vvee vvill on him looke,
His taunts, his griefes, his vvounds shall be our booke:
And as he suffers, vvhilst vvee heare no noice,
Not the least sound of a Complainctiue voice,
VVeele set our spoonefull to his sea of vvoes,
Our aduersaries to his sauage foes,
And blush to fill each eare, each place vvith mone,
VVhilst in respect of his our griefes are none.

The Lambe by Ievves and Pharises thus drest,
For Iesvs friends makes a continuall feast.
But vvith vvhat drinke is this great banquet stor'de,
VVhat Massique vvine adornes this royall borde?

My Muse declare in the ensuing verse,
And the strange nature of that vvine rehearse,
The properties of that Cælestiall vvine,
VVhich Iesvs vvorthy ghestes drinke as they dine.
Of vvhich vvhen you shall heare prodigious things,
Yet giue vs faith, and knovv this liquor springs
From Vine tree, vvhich vvas set by Gods ovvne hand,
And in the midst of Paradise doth stand.
Bee not incredulous this vvine doth grovv
In Iesvs vaines, and from his vvoundes doth flovv,

The Hart vvhom Dogs haue almost at a baye,
Peceiuing that his spirits doe decaye,
Forthvvith vnto some Riuer hath recourse,
VVhere svvimming through, he gathereth nevv force,
VVith vvhich, as if he had but then begun,
He svviftly flies, pursuing death to shun.

The soule of Man cloth'd vvith this fleshly furre,
Is this poore Hart, by many cruell Curr,
Hunted to death, the houndes names vvill you heare?
Sad griefe, fond joye, stearne vvrath, vaine hope, false feare
These as Acteons Beagles obe'id Man,
VVhilst Man vvas good, and reason vs'd, but vvhen
Man in transgression vvas the Deuils Ape,
And to a beast transformed, lost his shape.
The Curs vvhich heretofore vvere kept in avve,
VVill novv obey no longer reasons lavv,
But as that Hunters Dogs their Maister chase,
And oft bereaue him of his life of grace.
Amongst the rest one vgly Curre is found,
Icleped Mortall sin, this foule-mouth'd hound
By nature hath such an enuenom'd tooth,
That vvhere he bites, assured death ensu'th.

The Nemrod or chiefe Maister of the sport,
The Diuel is, vvho vvith a gracelesse sorte
Of vvorldlings, sons of the accursed Cayne,
Pursue the silly Harte, till hee be slaine.
VVhen sin is done an Euge blovves the horne,
Their Huntesman hola is faire vertues scorne.
The vvoods resound vvith base detractions voice,
Foule slanders Echo makes a hideous noyse.
VVhen no temptation doth the soule assault,
They storme and svveare the Doggs are at a fault,
Getting the sent by customes tracke againe,
They and their Curres follovv the Chace amayne.

The Hart pursu'de by such malitious foes,
Is tyred ofte, oft doth his forces lose.
VVhen loe good God (vvho the stai'd course of things
Svveetly contriues) our Beast thus toyled brings
By secreet motions to a pretious floud,
VVhich flovves vvith streames of vvounded Iesvs bloud.
Through this the chased Deer no sooner svvims,
But vvith nevv strength he innouates his limbs:
And thus refresht tovvards Heau'n he trippeth so,
That vve him judge rather to flie then go:
Nay sure he flies, (his vvings are loue and grace)
VVhere-vvith tovvards Sion he mounts vp apace.
Is this blest Riuer Davids house of Armes
To furnish vs vvith sheilds against all harmes?
Or as in first creation great God brings

Out of the vvaters feth'red foule vvith vvings?
Barke, barke yee Currs, ye cannot hurte vs more,
Our soule hath vvings, and in the Ayre doth soare.

VVho shall in Lethes streames his members bath
(Is it a benefite?) Obliuion hath
Of his past deedes, forgetting good and ill,
(Else Poets vvith their lyes the vvorld doe fill.)
On Alter table flovves a Lethes floud,
Breeding obliuion of each thing, but good.
VVho are vvash't heere forget their old desires,
Earthly propensions, and accustom'd fires.
VVhat vvonder then, if as Hart through here passe,
He seeme to be far other then he vvas?

Shall I describe this glorious Nilus head
VVhen it began? As Iesvs bloud is shed
By impious Ievves on blest Caluarias Hill,
And since through Edens Garden flovveth still:
VVhen as the souldiar vvith his Launce did ope
Our Iesvs side, he gaue the streame full scope
To issue foorth, vvhich hetherto hath run,
And euer shall vntill the vvorld be done.
On Ægipt fruits Nilus bestovves a birth,
This Riuer fertill makes our Christian Earth.
Once in a yeare seau'n-headed Nile or'e-flovves,
And benedictions on the land bestovves.
Each daye, each hovvre, as Aarons sons thinke good,
VVee see the ouer-flovving of this floud.

Fruitfull the Trees are, vvhich in ordred ranckes,
VVith the streames vvatred grovv along the bankes.
Among'st these flourisheth a vvell-spread Vine,
The Grape vvhereof doth make a royall VVine,
VVith vvhich our Iesvs furnisheth his Feasts:
None can it's vertue tell, but vvho are Guests.
O happie vines vvhich in Engaddy grovv
VVhere vvine is made, from vvhence chast virgins flow.
VVith this vvine to be drunke, feare not this Cup
Ingenders vvorthy thoughts, drinke it all vp

VVhen vvee (faire Nymph) thy Austrian house and tree,
Throughout our Christian vvorld dilated see,
All men the greatnesse of the Trunke admire,
Great Kings such braunches as thy selfe desire.
VVee doe reuolue old Oracles, and saie
Therefore doth Austrias Sun like the Noone daie
Shine in our Hemisphëre, and bright raies spred,
Because Great Rodvlph to this mistique bread,
By vs describ'de, such pietie did shovv,
From his deuotion benedictions flovv
Vppon thy house: my Muse vvhich here doth treat
Of this rare Mannah, and Ambrosian meate,
Offers her selfe, vvhil'st shee doth Manna sing,
To you (Great Princesse) vvho from Rodolph spring:
And knovves, though nothing else her gratious make,
Yet y'oule accept her for the Mannas sake.

The sacrifice vvhereof our Church doth boast,
VVherein for Peoples sins Gods Son is hoast,
Astonisht vvee vvith silence vvill passe o're,
And humbly him vvho is in it adore.
VVee anger Iesvs vvhen vvee doe amisse,
To make our peace Iesvs the victime is.
The Priest eake Iesvs is: millions of times,
And in as many places for our crimes
Doth Iesvs offer victimes eu'rie daie,
As if he nothing else but Masse did saie.
The Bell vvhich makes all people to repaire,
To Iesvs Church, and telleth them that there,
Gods seruice shall be done: is a straunge bell,
And vvhen it rings, doth ring as strange a knell.
It is made of the voices of all those
VVho reason vse; both Iesvs friends and foes
Serue as a Bell, vvhich Christian people tels,
That in our Church the true Religion dvvels:
In Church describ'de by me, built by Gods Son,
True seruice of eternall God is done.
At such an houre, at such a time of daie,
Iesvs himselfe vvill vouchsafe Masse to saie.

Great God himselfe in this Bell hath a share,
As he doth in his testaments declare,
That the Church, vvhose foundation I haue laid
Is that vvhich he 'ith vvorlds beginning made;
The same vvhich in the Patriarchall daies,
And lavv of Moyses he from earth did raise,
But vvas vnto a full perfection brought,
VVhen Iesvs grace, and truth his Christians taught
Nay God is angrie, and doth tell vs plaine,
His Church did not begin vvith impious Caine,
But founded in a righteous Abels bloud,
Hath since supported by his right hand stood.
Haue I built vp my Church, Iehova saith,
On Arrius, Hus, on Magus faithlesse faith?
VVho so doe build their house, build on the sands,
No longer then the builder, the vvorke stands.
VVho not vvith mee on Iesvs build; at once
Their Church shall perish, vvith their rotten bones.
But my Church stands on an immoued rocke,
And shall endure each persecutions shocke.
No Ievv, no Heretique, no Pagans arme
Can doe the Church vvhich I haue builded harme.
Nay euery blustring vvinde, each aduerse blast
Make the foundation of my Church more fast.

I built a neate, an ample statelie Kirke,
And dare these saie, their hogsties are my vvorke?
VVith virtues Tapestrie my Church is faire,
Not vvith sins vgly, as their dunge cartes are,
Perfumes of grace in my Church svvetly smell,
Vice makes their Synagogues a second Hell.

Iesvs (the vvorth of vvhose braue name vvee tell)
Giueth a voice to'th making of our bell,
And speaketh thus, liuing it vvas my vvill
To build my Church and Cittie on a Hill.
I built my Tempel on a mountaine high,
Conspicuous and expos'd to eu'rie eye:
Had I made man inuisible to goe,
I vvould haue likevvise built my temple soe.
I therefore spent a thirtie-three yeares time,
That mine should high perfections mountaine clime.
A three-fould mountaine then Olympus higher
As Ætna burning vvith perpetuall fier:
The poore, the chast, the virtue vvhich obeies,
This mount more high then common earth doth raise.
Good vvorkes, and almes bestovved in my name,
Make this high hill vvith Charitie to flame:
The smell is likevvise vvonderfully svveete,
VVhilest Myrrhe and Frankinsence together meete.
And that these alvvaies recke must be the care
Of mortifying actes, and mentall praire.

Hovv then dare these blasphemers of my grace,
Saie I haue chosen for my Church a place
VVith the earth euen? those vvho neuer soare
VVith counsailes vvings to heau'n, vvhat haue they more
Then earth? in vallies and lovv dales they goe
VVho then commandements, vvill no more knovv.
Good vvorkes not onely make my Cittie faire,
But eake behoofull for the dvvellers are.
And shall such appertaine vnto my mount,
VVho of good vvorkes make none or little count?

But carelesly set all at sixe and seau'n
And saie bare faith enough is to get Heau'n.
My Church is not a Kennell for foule Dogs,
A nastie hogstie for all sensuall Hogs.
Did not Iouinian a foule Hogstie make,
VVhen from chaste life he did all merit take?
All such doe Hogsties vvith Iouinian build,
VVho to Virginitie no honour yeild.
Hovv dare these Gerasines (feeders of svvine)
Affirme their durtie village to be mine?
I claime a Church vvhich on a mountaine stands
Such, such is that vvhich I made vvith my handes.
In this I giue remission of sin,
And in none else, here (people) enter in.
This is my garden, this my dvvelling house,
Here vvith me dvvels my Loue, my Doue, my Spouse.

This Church my sheepefold is: sheepefold and sheepe
VVith my ovvne mouth I did bid Peter keepe.
And shall I thinke my Church and sheepfold theare
VVhere my chiefe Vicar Peter hath no care?
Those Synagogues, vvhere Cephas hath no Keie
Are shambles, vvherein butchers the sheepe slaie.
I in my Church (vvhat nation can so boast?)
For peoples sins offer my selfe an Hoast.
I did die rherefore, therefore I did bleed
That I my friendes might vvith my ovvne flesh feed.
And in my vvounded vaines a Vine might grovv
From vvhence a Nectar (drinke of Gods) should flovv.
VVhere you behold such Nectar and such fare
Goe in; there is my feast, there my guests are.
But be assur'de there is no feast of mine
VVhere you no more haue then bare Bread aud VVine.

Not to a meale made vp of of Foule and Beastes,
But to my Body I inuite my ghuests.
Am not I able to performe my vvord,
And set my sacred flesh vpon the board?
VVho say my diuine hand Almightie is,
VVhy giue they limits to my povvre in this?
For vvine I said my ghuests my bloud should drinke,
If I not giue it them, they needes must thinke,
I either doe delude, or els am vveake,
Not able to effect, vvhat I doe speake
Nor i'st enough if I should make them eate
For my true body a phantastike meate,
My bodies figure, and a tipike VVine,
For I a substance promist' not a signe.

The Architect of lies maketh such Feasts
And vvith like fopperies deceiues his guests.
Hee carries them to Castles of the aire,
And makes them thinke they feede on daintie fare
VVhen they eate nothing, all are trickes of his,
Each thing a signe, each thing a shaddov is,
They neither haue before them flesh nor fish,
But idle faith composeth eu'ry dish.
Call they not mee impostor vvith high Priests
VVho saie that I so jugle vvith my ghests?
I bid them to a banquet, saie their meate
Shall be diuine, my bodie they shall eate;
But vvhen they sit dovvne, an od fellovv saith,
Take, eate this bread, and feed on Christ by faith.
The putid Berengarius mumbled so,
And long since for an Heretique did goe.
And yet the people must persuaded be,
That such a dinner vvas ordain'd by me.

Marie his Mother, vvho triumph'de or'e Hell,
Giueth a voice to making of this Bell.
And bids all people to this Temple goe,
VVhich in the former lines my Muse doth shevv:
And thus she speakes: This Church vnto my Son
Belongs for in it are due honours done.
To mee his Mother: Iesvs Priests are heere,
For pietie hath builded euerie vvhere,
Many faire Altars, and to honour mee,
The vvorld continuall sacrifice doth see:
Each hart is made an holy Altar stone
VVhereon due victimes vnto mee are done.
Petitions are the Hoasts vvhich please mee vvell,
As vvith deuotions Frankinsence they smell.

VVhen as the vvorld its first beginning had,
And sin had made the tvvo beginners sad;
Great God the serpent punishing, from vvhom
Both sin and sadnesse came, pronounc'd this doome;
That there should be an euerlasting vvarre
T'vvixt mee, and Satan, betvvixt those vvho are
His Sons, and such vvho from my bovvels spring
(Such Children at the Crosse I forth did bring.
That vvas the groning Bed I laie vpon,
VVhen at my Iesvs death I did beare Iohn
And in him the vvhole Church: my eldest boie
Borne vvithout paine, but not vvithout much joye
Great Iesvs vvas: the earth and heauen smilde,
VVhen my vvombe blest the vvorld vvith this braue child.
Iesvs and Iohns acknovvledge I my seed,
(In sorrovv Iohns as Rachel I did breed.)
Iohns knovving I am theirs and Iesvs Mother
VVith filiall loue affect me 'fore all other.
Knovv then that Tempel in the vvhich you see
My progenie, Iesvs true Church to bee.

Novv by these markes you shall my children knovv
A great respect and loue to me they shovve,
They knovv vvhat grace on earth God to me gaue,
They knovv vvhat glorie in the heau'ns I haue:
(Such Chrysostome, such Anselme, Bernard vveare
By God instructed in my visions share)
They knovv vvhat int'rest I haue in my Son:
He euer hath and vvill graunt mee each boone.
Like Bersabee I sit at his right hand,
And though I doe intreat, yet I commaund.
Therefore to mee they doe direct their prairs,
My Son heares my petitions, I heare theirs.
A mothers title doth my Iesvs moue,
Mee to helpe them forceth a Mothers loue.

VVhere you see Virgins deuoute, humble, lovv,
Theres Iesvs Church, into that Temple goe
VVhere you see some vvith loues vvings mount on high,
They are my seed (so vvhilst I liu'de did I.)
Mine are those Children vvho make me their glasse,
T'adorne themselues vvith virtues as I vvas.
By such apparell you my seed shall knovv,
But Satans sons in diff'rent habits goe.
Yet learne their markes, that vvhen you shal them meet,
You may discerne them by their clouen feete.
God promised a vvoeman vvho should tread
On the old serpens necke, and bruise his head.
Am I not shee vvho conceiu'd vvithout sin
In Mothers vvombe to bruise him did begin?
(VVhom sin taints not (sin is the serpents head)
Such trample on him, yea such strike him dead)
Eve vvas a cursed tree, on vvhich did grovv
To Adam, and his generation vvoe.
I bore a fruit, Iesvs my royall Son,
VVho did restore vvhat Adam had vndone.
Grovving in Caluarie vpon a Crosse,
He did repaire terrestriall Edens losse.
VVherefore 'gainst me, vvhom mightie God did chuse,
And as a meanes in mans redemption vse,
'Gainst mee the Mother of the God of Hoasts,
The Prince of Hell musters his damned Ghosts:
'Gainst mee each Goblin, each infernall sprite
Proclaimeth vvarre, spitteth at mee his spite.

But since my person they cannot come nigh
(Glorie and grace haue lifted me so high.)
That diu'lish malice vvhich to mee they ovve,
In blasphemies and opprobries they shovv.
So doth the Serpent and his vvicked race
Diminish that all ouer-shadovving grace
VVherevvith the holy Ghost my soule did fill,
VVhen Iesvs leauing high Olympus hill,
Chose my parthenian vvombe, that flesh to make
VVhich on himselfe the Deitie vvould take.)
VVhen they dare saie, offenders vvith sin foule
As much grace beautifies as my pure soule.

If God my Anselme did inspire as hee
Affirmes hovv those that are deuoute to me,
May firmely hope, that their names helpe to fill
That booke vvhich Gods predestinating vvill
Hath vvrit; (this pietie and filiall loue
My deuotes to enroll great God doth moue.)
Shall not such justly feare, their names to finde
In the blacke booke of death? vvhose canker'd minde
Replenisht is vvith spight, vvith splene, vvith hate
Against my person and my glorious state.
Can such more spit their rancourd malice forth,
Then in diminishing my graces vvorth?
They saie, God me no gifts peculiar gaue
So great a sanctitie as I all haue.
Daies Festiuall ordain'd to honour mee
By these my foes quite abrogated be.
They striue that I Mother of such a Son,
Should be forgot as if I nought had done.

The Serpent labours in the Desert vvilde,
First to deuoure the vvoman, then the childe.
These Caitiues knovv, that honour vvhich I share
Redounds to Iesvs, vvhose my merits are.
(For vvhat in mee is eminent is good
Is Iesvs grace; That is the Ocean Floud
From vvhence Saints merits flovv, and to the maine
By gratitude must back returne againe..)
And though they seeme at mee alone to ayme,
Yet they vvell knovv vvhat dart hurtes me the same
VVoundeth my Iesvs, such relation is
Tvvixt him and mee: my opprobries are his:
Therefore vvhen mooued by their du'ilish sire
They slander me; 'gainst Iesvs they conspire.

VVhen Antiochians vvill their hatred shovv
Vnto their Kesars, they their statues throvv
Contemptibly to ground: on Kings they vvreake
Their fury, as their Portratures they breake.
Could these Iconoclasts vvith impious hand
My person touch, I should no more commaund
As Angels Empresse: nor in highest heau'n,
Injoye that glorie vvhich my Son hath giu'n.
But since their malice cannot reach so high
They in my holy Pictures me defie.
They breake and despise these, out Churches thro
And if they could they eake vvould vse mee soe.

Nay vvorse then Saul, possest vvith an ill sp'right
VVhat serpent could not doe, these sons of night
Attempted haue vvhilst their blaspheming tongue
Hath me defiled vvith transgressions dunge.
Counsailes and Fathers haue religious bin,
Mee to exempt vvhen as they treat of sin.
And yet these foule-mouthd'e Cerberi dare houle
That Iesvs Mother is vvith blacke sin foule.
So did not the Archangel Gabriel sing
VVhen he from heau'n his Embassie did bring.
But thus began, Hayle of thy sexe the best
Store-stouse of grace amongst all vvoemen blest.
The Fathers svvimme in this Embassage streame,
Making the Angels vvordes my praises theame.
VVho dare a note hovvle contrarie to this,
Sing not as Angel, but vvith Serpent hisse.
But though Dogs barke, yet Cynthia keepes her course,
These Curres may houle, but haue no further fourcc,
Although these Deuils against mee conspire,
Yet am I vvorshipped of Angels Quire.
Mauger the Serpent, mauger errors pride,
In glories Chariot, I triumphant ride.
These are the Clothes vvhich Satans children vveare
The markes of Cain vvhich on their fronts they beare
A deadly hatred and malitious splene,
Gainst Iesvs Mother, and the Angels Queene.
Such, such are Serpents of-spring, Satans seed,
VVhen you incounter them, flie flie vvith speed.
Knovv Iesvs loue in such can neuer dvvell,
VVho of his Mother knovv not to speake vvell,
Auoyd their companies, their verie breath
Is dangerous, and can ingender death;
Hovv fatall, vvas the serpents hissing noise
VVhen he Eue murdred vvith his only voice?
Vild Heretiques of vvorse sire sons as ill
Haue of their father learnd vvith vvords to kill.
Hereticall assemblies are a schole,
VVhere Satan sitting on his pest'lence stole
False doctrine teacheth, and vvith forged tales
Gainst me, my Son, and his Saints daily railes.

But vvhere are pious vvorshippers of me,
Assure your selues there Iesvs Church to be.
VVhere Iohns assemble, there the true Church is,
If you finde one you cannot th' other misse.
Angels vvho not pertake our speaking art
By signes vvill vtter their true meaning harte:
And saie this is that Church, vvhich Iesvs built,
Those verie vvalls he made, the roofe he guilt.
Into this Church all nations enter in
VVhere truest Sacrifice is done for sin.
Heere shed your teares, here Iesvs vice-roies sitt,
VVho can your sins vvashed vvith teares remit.
Iudges, to vvhom Iesvs such povvre hath giu'n
That vvhat they here doe is confirm'd in heau'n.
In this Church vvee (attendants on our King,)
As Iesvs Prelates doe the High Masse sing,
And eleuate our mightie Lord on High,
In signe of Homage on the lovv earth lie.
By Quires of Angels are song joyfull laies,
VVhen sinfull soules forsake their vvonted vvaies;
In Penitents conuersion shares haue vvee
Our ruines by their risings filled bee.
Of it and those vvho in this Tempell are,
Are vvee protectours, and haue speciall care.
VVhereas those Synagogues, vvhich schisme and pride
Haue cobled vp, not Michael doth guide:
But Lucifer vvith his blacke guarde attends,
And brings at last vnto disastrous ends.

Chiefe Senatours of Iesvs Common vveale
Th' Apostles in this manner ring a peale.
That Church vvhich of th' Apostles taketh name,
Is Iesvs Church, vvee did erect the same.
Against this Church Hell gates fight, but in vaine,
VVee are the Pillars, vvho this Church sustaine.
Firme Pillars, and strong firmament of Truth,
Supporting it, mauger vvhat Satan doth.
Those Synagogues on Pillars doe not stand
VVhich vveare built vp by Magus impious hand,
By Cerinth Marcion, but in Pillars turne,
Are rotten stickes, vvhich in Hell fire shall burne.
The houses vvith them joyntlie shall decaie,
The houses vvhich these vvorkemen make of Claie.
Opinions Preaching nothing else but ease,
Opinions vvhich (prone to ill) nature please.
Are rotten stickes, vvhen Simon Magus said
To gaine heau'n faith sufficient is, hee made
Of rotten stickes a stie for sensual hogs,
And like to him a Kennell for foule dogs
Eunomius built, saying that Faith alone
Can saue our soule, though good vvorks vve haue none.
Did not Nouatians build a house of claie,
VVhilst Priests authoritie they tooke avvaie?

A house vvhere carnall libertines shall dvvell,
A house vvhich is the Porters lodge of hell.
No vvonder though broad be perditions path,
For Pilgrims tovvards Hell it alvvaies hath.
No true Confession of sins in the vvay,
No good aduise the passengers to staie.
But in that Church vvhich built by Iesvs hands
On vs Apostles as firme Pillars stands.
Iesvs appointed there should alvvaies sit
His Viceroies, and the guilt of sin remit:
And Christians teach vvhere feinds in ambush lie.
Hovv they their treacheries and snares shall flie.
Doctors of Physicke, vvho vvith vvine and oyle
Diseases cure; vvhen Priests from sin assoile
They povvre in oyle: Gods mercie oyle must be,
VVhich svvimming 'boue his attributes vvee see.
Pennance by Priests injoyn'd hath the vvines place,
VVhich though it smart, yet hath an healing grace.
His Viceroies, vvho vvhen sinners goe next vvaie
To Hell, them by good admonition staie;
Teach Penitents that such and such a fault
Their predecessours to perdition brought,
That such actes are inordinate and fovvle,
Such customes dangerous vnto the soule.
Hovv by good customes they must o'rcome bad,
In Ghostly vvarfare vvhat care must be had,
So Aarons Priests judg'd of the Lepers skin:
So Iesvs Priests judge betvvixt sin and sin.
In Church vvhich Iesvs vpon vs did raise,
Such vvas the vse; This euen in our daies,
The custome vvas; Iesvs vs povver gaue
To forgiue sins, and vvee it practiz'd haue:
But vvhere of sins no true remission is,
Bee sure you shall of Iesvs tempel misse.
Of that Church Iesvs no foundation laid,
But schisme and pride haue the vvhole building made:
That Church Apost'like is vvhere-vvith great care
Traditions of Apostles obseru'd are.
Things vvhich great Iesvs vs alone did teach
To the vvhole vvorld vvee aftervvards did Preach,
And though all circumstances are not vvrit,
(The Majestie of God not thinking fit
So to confine himselfe) yet they 're as good
As if they vvrit in sacred volume stood,
And in Religious hartes finde as much faith
VVho kovv it is as true vvhat Iesvs saith,
As vvhat he vvrites: so vve haue Christians taught,
That Baptisme children frees from Adams fault.
Inspir'd by God vvee ordaind Lenten fast,
VVorship of Images in Tempels pla'st.
These vvee as Iesvs substitutes ordain'de
And haue in Christs Church hetherto remaind.
VVhere these are kept, that Church is Iesvs spouse,
Goe in all people, there keepes Iesvs house.

The Martyrs vvho vvith death their Crovvnes did vvin
Ring such a peale and call all people in.
That Church vvhich by sad persecution grovves,
And more it is oppressed by her foes,
The more increaseth, vvas by Iesvs made,
Iesvs of it the vvhole foundation laid.
The Parget vvhich this building makes so good,
And joynes the stones is glorious Martyrs bloud:
VVhen other sects by frovvning Cæsars ire,
Consumed are like drie vvood in the fire,
VVee as true gold (such is Gods heaun'ly mighte)
Are purifi'de, and made to shine more bright.
VVho should of Sixtus and his Laurence tell
If Valerianus had not bene so fell:
VVho e're had heard of braue Sebastians praise?
Had hee not liu'de in Dioclesians daies.
Great Rome three hundreth thousand Martyrs shovves
Expos'd to beasts, burnt, rackt by cruell foes.
And thirty glorious Popes in order stand,
VVho lost their liues by Persecutors hand.
(Can all the sectes vvhich haue bene since Christs daies
Together joyned, such a number raise?
If it be chiefest loue our liues to spend,
(Iesus saith so) in seruice of our friend,
VVas not the charitie of Romaines much?
VVhose Massacres for Iesus sake vvere such.
No vvonder eake though Romaine ground be good
A Nilus vvatred it of Martyrs bloud.

VVe lost our liues, and yet vvee vvon the field,
And made our bloudie persecutors yeild,
Tvvo Kesars vanquisht in these bearing fights
To Constantine resigne their Kingly rights,
And first a Christian killing hand doth vvant,
E're martyrs readie to be kild are scant.
Iesvs ordaining that his friends shal gaine
Not by resisting, but by being slaine.
So he him selfe made Hell, and diuels flie,
VVhen on the Crosse on Golgoth he did die.
No armour must vvee bring into the field
But a sole Buckler, patience is this shield.
This is enough to gaine the promist Crovvne,
Sufficent eake to cast Hells povvers dovvne.

The rising vvaues, vvhich drovvne each other barke,
Lift only from the ground just Noahs Arke.
Though other Cocke-boates perish in the seas,
VVhilst no milde Neptune makes the billovves cease,
Yet vvhen the surges tosse Saint Peters barge,
Iesvs himselfe (best Palinure) hath charge.
Iesvs himselfe great Neptune of the Sea,
Iesvs vvhom VVindes and Æolvs obey.
Hee calmes the vvaues vvith his all-potent hand,
And brings our Pinnace to desired land.

VVhere is Iouinians Hoie; vvhere Arrius Boate?
Though furnished vvith seamen of such noate.
Euseb, and other learned men
Rovved in Arrius Boate vvith tongue and pen:
Rotten vvith time their Pinnace vvater drinkes,
And to the bottome miserably sinckes.
Nor anie ship can long 'gainst billovves stand,
VVhich is not built and gouernd by Gods hand.
Of Albigenses vvhat doth novv remaine?
But that they vvere by Simon Montford slaine.
VVho novv for vvicked Hus, and Arrius lookes,
Must finde them in great Iesvs Doctors bookes.

But Peters ship, vvherein did Iesvs preach,
As he the multitude on shore did teach,
From Iesvs daies vnto our present times
Hath still made voyages to remote climes.
And carried Marchants, vvho not for base gold,
But death and blovves their pretious vvares haue sold.
Their vvares vveare charitie, true-faith, firme-hope,
VVhich they for sorrovves and contemptes did cope.
Saint Peters ship made voyages to Chine,
To Iapons Ilands vvhich on Sinas joyne
To the remote America vvhich shovves
A flovvre, vvhereon the name of Iesvs grovves.
(Yee gentle heau'ns smile svveetly on that earth
So dignifi'd vvith name of Iesvs birth)
(Thrice happie they, on vvhose vvell-vvatred ground
The name of Iesvs flourishing is found.)
Iesvs svveete odour our stout hartes did fill,
VVhen Tyrants vs for Iesvs sake did kill.
To all these Regions Peters Pinnace fraught
VVith Merchandise, celestiall virtues brought,
And though it labourd hath so many yeares,
Yet svvift it sailes and as nevv made appeares.
No dangerous syrts, no ship-deuouring sands,
No billovves, no perfidious Pyrats bandes
Conspiring vvith damnd Ghoasts to Hell cast dovvne,
Are able Peters vvell-built Arke to drovvne.
Her Pilote Iesvs in no tempests fayles,
The holy Ghost filleth vvith vvindes her sailes:
That mauger Satan, and his stigian court
Shee safe ariues at heau'ns desired porte.

VVherefore that ship, vvhich through all ages hath
Carried in her the Merchants of true Faith:
That ship vvhich of spoiles from Hell-gained brags,
And for her streamers hath blest Martyrs flags.
Is Iesus Church (vvhich God like a ship formes
For t'is exposde to Seas, to vvindes, to stormes.)
Of this Boate Iesus himselfe hath the charge,
(VVho seeke heau'ns Hauen come into this barge.)

Virgins vvho Lavvrels vveare vpon their head,
Adorn'de vvith Lilies vvhite, and Roses red.
(Virginitie the Lilie vvhite bestovves
A glorious death brings forth the ruddie Rose)
These Nymphs I saie Angelicallie sing,
And in this sorte a holy peale doe ring.
(A peale vvherein all numbers friendly meete,
Virgins alone can sing a song so svveete.)
These flovvres vvhich on our frontes make so faire shovv
And smell so svveete in Iesus Garden grovv.
Thence Barbara, thence Agnes, did them take,
And a triumphant Garland of them make.
Iesus Church stands in an Elizian ground,
VVhere fragrant Roses are, and Lilies found,
VVhere Vestal Virgins haue their deseru'd praise,
And Martyrs fronts adorn'de are vvith greene Baies.
VVhere good vvorkes euermore doe fragrant smell,
Is Iesus Garden, Iesus there doth dvvell.
There s his bovver, there his Summer house,
There Iesus sporteth vvith his louely spouse.

Mongst these in English tone sings Ebba slaine
For Chastities defence by the stearne Dane,
VVith many Nuns, vvho vnder her charge vvere
(For of a Monasterie shee had care)
Off'ring their Laurels at feete of their King,
VVith Deborah of victories they sing.
Relate my Muse the subject of their song,
And speake their Crovvnes gaind by Barbarians vvrong.

In Collingham eight hundreth yeares agoe,
Or there-abouts (as Chronicles doe shovv)
A holy Cloister stood (is it not strange
That after-times should cause so great a change)
Then Fathers joyd, vvhen Cloistets had their sons,
Mothers rejoyc'd to see their daughters Nuns.
And thought their children bestovv'd vvondrous vvell,
VVhen they serud' Iesus in a quiet Cell.
They thought vvhen daughter chose a Cloister life,
That shee vvas matcht vvith Iesus for his vvife.
But after-daies doe better ope their eies,
And then their Ancestors are grovvne more vvise:
Our times instructed in a deeper schole,
Haue learnde to call each age precedent foole,
And put on their Dads backes a Motlie coate,
Affirming superstition made them dote,
But le'ts goe on: Ebba vvas Abbesse there
Many faire Nymphs to her obedient vvere.
Many faire Nymphs (though beautie vvas thought foule
VVhich vvas not grast'e vvith beautie of the soule.)

But vvhen our Fathers sin (for knovv that sin
Oft changeth scepters, and brings strangers in.
(So Roderigoes fault brought Mores to Spaine)
Had made God send to punish Crimes the Dane.
The Pagan soldier each vvhere spoyld the land,
No place vvas free from his all-burning hand,
No holy Church but vvas consum'de by fire
No age, no sexe could pacifie his ire.
Though no vvhere more the Deuill his part plaid,
Then vvhereas pietie had houses made
For holy Nuns, and consecrated vvights,
To spend in diuine praier their daies and nights.
Satan too conscious of the dailie maime,
By these he suffreth, and hovv they proclaime
VVarre 'gainst his Kingdome: vvith peculiar spite
Makes his infernall feinds gainst these to fighte.
(Speake Alberstate and Mansfield as you brag
Of Monasteries spoiles, vnder vvhose flag
Your vvarfare is? Satan vvill paie you vvell
And vvhat vvants here you shall receaue in Hell.)

To Collingham the Mansion of our Nuns
A troupe of Pagans came: (Satan these sons
On Gentilisme begat) The house they take
(For vvhat resistance could poore vvomen make?)
The Vestments, Chalices, the holy things,
(Surely my Muse of nevv-done mischiefes sings.)
They doe prophane: vvhen they are full of spoyle
The Nuns (Gods liuing Temple) theile defile.

The VVolfe vvho for long time no food hath eate
VVith fiercer appetite seekes not his meate
As leauing VVoods, vvhen night hath chas'de the daie,
He to the Village comes to get his praie,
And hauing found either by cries or smels,
VVhere harmelesse flocke by care of shepheard dvvels.
About the house he often vvalketh round,
Espying vvhere an entrance may be found.
Hee oft assaies to breake into the stall,
And oft repeld is by the vvell made vvall.
At last by force preuailing hee makes vvaie,
And in midst rusheth of his vvisht-for praie.
At sight of cruell foe the poore sheepe quake,
And although manie yet no head dare make.
(Shall vvee blame nature vvho makes stoutest Rams,
In presence of the VVolfe, as meekest Lambs)
No othervvise the soldiers runne about
Each corner of the Cloister to finde out
These Lambes of God: they burne vvith vvicked flames,
And nought can quench their fire but sacred Dames.
They each-vvhere raunge, no barres can stop their course
They breake the strongest doores vvith deu'lish force.
So see vve Humber passing his set bounds
VVith vvaters drovvne the ouer-flovved grounds.
Bridges, and houses vvhich oppose his vvaie
He carries vvith him, nothing can him staie.

Ebba (novv compast vvith Susannas care
Death or deflovvring the Elections are)
VVas to the Church vvith all her daughters fled
(VVith feare the holy Maides vvere almost dead)
Daughters, quoth shee; and vvould haue spoken more
VVhen furious Pagans rushing at the dore,
Did make her leaue, before shee had begun,
Vnto the dore some bolder Virgins runne,
And firme it fast, at least it shall keepe out
For some short space the Danes intruding route.
Ebba againe beginnes (daughters) quoth shee
To free your selfe from Danes lust learne of mee;
VVhat lavv forbids to vse a murdring hand,
To keepe vovvd'e faith, the same lavv doth commaund
For beauties sake Pagans haue vs in chase,
In steed of beautie a disfigurd face.
Our sights shall yeeld them: as you see me doe
(vvith that shee dravves a Knife (Virgins) doe you.
Our bodies hetherto haue bene kept chast,
And vnto death shall not this purenesse last?
Our bodies yet are free from foule lusts staine,
And shall vve novv be rauisht by the Dane.
Shall vve polluted be vvith Pagans rape?
No no first perish this vvell-pleasing shape.
VVith streames of bloud vv'eele quench vnlavvful fires,
VVith vglie lookes vv'eele scarre vntam'de desires.
Our spouse is Iesvs, faith to him vvee gaue,
Hee shall our bodies chaste, though mangled haue.
And though vve be exteriorly foule,
He more vvill loue the beautie of our soule.
In speech of men Euphrasia alone
Shall not hereafter liue: of vs each one
Shall acte that Virgin, and not feare deaths blovv
That to our spouse vnspotted vvee may goe.
Empresse of Virgins, of our sexe the best,
To thee vvee consecrate our snovvy brest.
If any faint doe thou stout thoughts inspire,
Iesvs pure Mother, giue a noble fire.

Hauing said thus, vvith knife shee slits her nose,
Mangels her cheekes, cuts off her lips, yet shevves
Not the least signe of sorrovv (Iesvs loue
In her chaste soule all sorrow goes aboue.)
The Nuns vvho in obedience vveare exact
Follovv their Abbesse in this vvorthy fact.
Their Vizages (ô nobly cruel deed!)
VVith plenteous streames issuing from vvounds do bleed.
Faces, vvhere beautie dvvelt, and eu'ry grace,
Religious Amazons) themselues deface.

Telling this act shall I a credit finde?
VVill men beleeue such an heroicke minde
Could in so manie dvvell? Could England breed
So manie Actours of so so braue a deed?
VVe see Zopirus daughters vvithout Nose
VVith mangled Cheekes: the most inhumaine foes
VVould pittie them, yet they all pittie hate,
(So much they Iesvs loue and Maiden state)
Imagine novv vvhat a deformed sight
These Virgins are: vvhom vvill not their vievv fright?
Let vvanton Dane attempt a Nun to kisse,
For lips a streame of bloud he shall not misse.

VVhat Church of Sectaries a Virgin shovves,
VVho slit for Chastities defence her nose?
Nay they shall Canonize such for a Sainte,
VVho doth not her selfe for an husband painte.
If Teeth, if Nose, if Face haue the least fault,
Nevv Teeth, nevv Nose, nevv Face, shal streight be bought:
If Teeth, if Nose, if Face can be for gold,
At Painters shop, or Poticaries sold.
(So vnlike is, so different the fire
Of Sions daughters, and the Gyrles of Tyre.

The inra'gde soldiers bolted out so long
Breaking the Dores into the Tempel throng,
And euery one, not knovving vvhat vvas done,
Run furiouslie to sease vpon a Nun:
But as they see their mangled faces bleed,
They stand amazed at the horrid deed.
The Captaine of the sacrilegious band,
Thinking this Acte vvas done by a strange hand,
Despairing eake to coole his impure flames,
By his Gods svveares, vvho had misus'de the Dames
Should die the Death, for Venus sportes vvere made
(Quoth he) these faces: not by cruell blade
To be disfigur'de. Then did Ebba speake.
Tyrant on vs thy sauage fury vvreake.
VVe haue offended, if offence it be,
By bodies maime to set the body free.
And in my Corps first sheth your naked blades,
VVhose counsaile and example made these maydes
Performe this deed, vvhich follovving times shal tell,
And praise them to the heau'ns for doing vvell.
Conuert your svvords on me, t'vvas I, t'vvas I,
VVho counsaile gaue and courage; let me die,
This leader had no Porsenas braue sp'rit,
VVho vvhen the Romaine maides in dead of night
Guided by Clælia dovvne Tiber svvamme,
And safely to their sieged Cittie camme,
Astonished at the Heroike act
Did praise, and Crovvne the Virgins for the fact.

But these Barbarians, in vvhose sauage brest
Not the least true nobilitie did rest
Inrag'de, that the attempt of these Chast Dames
Had quenched quite their ignominious flames,
VVith Hellish fury, and Erynnis fild,
VVhome they did loth to violate, they kild:
And turning vvicked lust to d'uilish ire
They set the Cloister vvith the Nuns on fire.

O happie Virgins, burning vvith your house
You offer holocausts vnto your spouse
To keepe your bodies incorrupt you die,
And vvith pure soules to high Olympus flie,
VVhere vvith your Iesvs you in glorie raigne,
VVho for your faith to Iesvs haue bene slaine.
Let not fame blazon more Lucretias name,
VVho as shee suff'red had a deed of shame,
VVith cruell blade her harmelesse selfe did kill,
And on her corpes reveng'de anothers ill.
Had she before the acte vvith vvhetted knife
Sundred in tvvo the gold thread of her life,
VVe vvould haue giu'n her a chaste Matrons praise,
And vviser times her monuments should raise.

As to the Doctors, I novv take my vvaie,
Her sex and times first Martyr bids me staie,
VVhose glorious death did ring so loud a knell,
That it hath made eu'n learned strangers tell
Hovv a rich Marcarit in this our time,
Adornes our (from the vvorld diuided) clime,
VVhose Lavvrel vvith such fragrant flovvers grac'te
Amongst the stoutest Champions hath her plac'te.
If Vincent, Menas of the true Church bee
Like cause, like virtue rings that so is shee.

The holy Fathers vvho had vvitt at vvill,
And vvith a Pen made of an Eagles Quill,
Diuinely vvrit for Iesvs common vveale,
To Martyrs next ring in this sorte a peale.
VVhere Doctors teach of admirable vvitt,
In eu'ry science deepely learned, yet
As vvas their Maister Iesvs, humble, knovv,
There Iesvs dvvels: into that Temple goe.
VVee of our Fathers mysteries did learne,
And vvhen vve vvould faiths Articles discerne,
For feare of our great Maister to be shent,
Like Children vvee vnto our Mother vvent
And although vvee 'boue other men did soare
Yet did vvee listen to the Churches lore,
Knovving that truth vvas promist vnto it,
But priuate men may erre for all their vvitt.

Yea these vvise men in vvrangling fashion chime,
And make complaints against some of our time,
VVho pulling them from heau'n vvhere they do dvvel,
Rancke them vvith Heretikes condem'd in hell,
Saying that they did teach the same vvith those
To vvhose opinions they vvere alvvaies foes.

Saint Ierome yet is full of holy Gall,
And vvho saie so, he Heretikes doth call.
Haue I quoth he so labourd vvith my Quill,
To fence a Cittie built vpon a Hill.
Haue I so many Virgins taught to tread
The Counsailes path, and to perfection lead,
And must I novv bee reccond'e amongst svvine
VVho nothing holy haue nothing Diuine?
VVho more then I against Iouinian vvritt
And must I novv 'mongst his Disciples sit?
By mee just honours vveare to Reliques giu'n
And doe I novv contemne the same in heaun?
Saint Austen vvonders men can so much straine
His Orthodoxal sentences, and faine
That hee vvhil'st in our Region hee did dvvell
Held such opinions vvhich hee hates as hell.
VVhat Church I vvas of, quoth hee vvho vvill knovv
Vnto the Rule vvritt by mee lett him goe.
In that I counsailes of perfection giue,
And teach a life vvhich I my selfe did liue.
This as to Greate Norbertus I appeare
(Antvverpes Apostle) in my handes I beare
And promise that my rule obserued vvell
His Canons shall secure from feare of Hell
VVhen Iesvs shall to stricter iudgment come
And as they haue deseru'de giue soules their dome.
Noe lesse then fifty holy Orders stand
Obseruant of this rule vvritt by my hand.

Daily fresh vvreaths adorne my glories crovvne
As I behold (from high heau'n looking dovvne
My English Daughters keepe vvith holy care
Those statutes vvhich by mee ordained vveare.
They piously obserue vvhat I haue vvritt
For Nuns and solitarie liuers fitt.
These Virgins neuer call this or that mine
But alvvaies vse this phrase, vvhats mine is thine
(As longe agoe in the Apostles time,
VVhen Christian feruour vvas in cheifest prime,)
From Mothers knovvledge the least thing to hide,
They thinke a trespas for vvhich Achan d'ide.
Each Virgin Iesvs for her husband hath,
To vvhome shee keepes infallibly her faith,
Betvvixt Greate Iesvs and each holy Nun
As shee is vested fiances are done
The Matrimoniall knot is t'ide vvhen shee
Vovveth obedient, chast and poore to bee.
Heau'n is the chamber, vvheare in ioyful blisse
This holy marriage consummated is.

Then their superiors they doe knovv noe vvill,
For they abjured haue their ovvne, as ill.
They Angels vvings haue, vvhen they should obey,
And forthvvith flie if Mother once doe saie:
At midnight they (for sometime) leaue their Cell
And come to Church cald thether by a Bell:
VVhere they doe pray vvhilst vvorldly people sleepe,
And Vigils vvith the vvatching Angels keepe.
VVhen flesh against the spirit entreth field
VVith prai'rs and fasting they make the flesh yeeld.
They oft are guests at that Cælestiall board,
VVhich Iesvs hath vvith his ovvne bodie stord.
There are they strengthened vvith heau'nly grace,
Their ghostly enemies avvay to chase.
If the least spot contaminate their soule,
Confession doth expiate vvhat is foule,
I taught these Maides to treade the milken path,
Their Church is mine, as theirs so vvas my faith.

Shall vve discend from heau'n to our earths frame,
From earth to hell, and demaund of the same?
VVhat tune it rings, vvhat battailes haue bene fought
Tvvixt light and darkenesse, betvvixt good, and naught
Ievves Pagans Turkes, our Region, lovv Hell
And all the Damned ghoasts vvho therein dvvell,
Shall ring that they 'gainst that Church spit their splene,
VVhich in my verses is described seene.
Gainst Peters seate, against the Church of Rome
Did Heresie in battaile arraie come.
Great Behemoth that Monstrous oxe did dreame
To svvallovv vp delightfull Iordans streame.
But Peter (cunning Fisher-man) vvith hooke
Out of the sea Leuiathan hath tooke.
Chiefely by Peters heau'nly guided arme
Ievves, Pagans, heretikes haue receiud harme.
Still Peter doth in his successor fight,
And triumph ouer gates of horrid night.
Therefore of Stygian feindes the hate is great
VVhich they to Peter beare, and Peters seate.
But Iesvs doth make e'un Tipheus pride
To shovv this Church so hated is his bride.
Thus God, Christ, Marie, Angels, Saints, Earth, Hell
Ioyntly concurre to make our Church a Bell.

It remaines only novv vvee should declare,
Of this faire building vvho the vvorkemen are.
The chiefest Architect vvho guides them all
And giues directions hovv they labour shall
Is Iesvs selfe: he did deuise the frame,
And learnes the Craftes-men hovv to vvorke the same.
Best vvorkemaister, for hee vvhen ends the daie,
VVith glories penie doth the vvorkemen paie.
Novv you must knovv there dvvels in Iesvs hart
The fulnesse of each science, and each art.
VVith great election he his choise doth make
And of a multitude some fevv stones take.
And those of vvhich he meanes his Church to build,
He vseth curiouslie vvith loue to guild.

And by the vvay obserue there can be none
Fit for the building, but a fowresquare stone.
A figure richly gracd', no fortunes frovvne
No Crosse, no miserie can cast it dovvne:
And therefore Noah fouresquare vvood did take,
Thereof his all-containing Arke to make.
And Sions Cittie as no Hellish storme
Can it annoy, is built in this same forme.
In eu'ry stone he doth foure virtues carue
Assisting man least hee from reason svvarue:
Hee maketh temp'rance sit in pleasures vvaine,
Curbing the sensuall Iades vvith a strong raine.
Teaching amidst a vvorld of sugred svveetes
To take no more then vvhat vvith reason meetes.
Next Fortitude vvhom dangers cannot quaile,
Nor vnexpected casualties make pale.
This virtue of meane men createth Kings,
VVhilest it excites them to attempt great things.
Iustice vvhose faire integritie is knovvne
In dealing out to eu'ry man is ovvne.
Shee holds a ballaunce vvhich is alvvaies true,
And vveighs to God, our selfe, our friend vvhats due.

He lastly prudence carues, of the foure best
As being sole directrix of the rest.
This Ladie rides by Fortitude her side
And tels her, as tis follie and rash pride
In deaths occasions vvilfully to run:
So is it crauen covvardise to shun
All dangers, vvhere renovvne and lasting fame
May purchast be, though pale death buy the same.

And you Svvash-bucklers of our English stage,
Thinke you discretion is your valours page?
Or vvell ey'd prudence doth your courage guide?
VVhen for mere toyes you brable, quarrell, chide;
Nay for just nothing, lesser then a stravv
You'le challenge to the field, and vveapons dravv.
Tell mee vvhat reasons more can you alledge?
Then that such vvould not in the Tauerne pledge
Your vvoemans health, or drunke gaue you the lie,
Therefore God damme you if he doe not die:
Forthvvith you send him the length of your svvord,
And fight you vvill, vnlesse he eate his vvord.
You challenge others, for they tooke the vvall?
Such vvorthy motiues are for vvhich you braule:
Saie you haue suff'red vvrong, right you it vvell?
In going soule and body vnto Hell.
VVho truly valiant are, vvill only fight
VVhen as the cause, for vvhich they jarre is right,
And also vveighty, then vvith them along
They justice take, and so reuenge a vvrong:
To fight for trifles, and vvith priuate hand
To right himselfe: Can this vvith justice stand?

Hovv odious are Duellums in Gods sight,
Speake holy Church, vvhich to preuent this fight,
And from such folly terrify fond man,
Strikes it vvith all the thunder-bolts she can
Denying to their bodies Christian graue
VVhose soules in hell choose sepulchers to haue.
But you a refuge haue by manhoods lavv
To saue your credit you are forc'd to dravv:
Men vvould deeme you a dunghil Cocke, a Covv,
Should you put vp such vvrong therefore you vovv
Youle die a thousand deaths yea to hell goe
Rather then you vvil blot your honour soe.
VVhy you are challeng'd and the vvorle vvould thinke
Should you not meete him that for feare you shrinke.
Harke my vviseman, vvhat is the vvorld? a foole.
Neuer read lesson in true vvisdomes schoole;
God, Saints, yea vvisemen see vvith better sight,
Tis Bedlam follie in this sort to fight.
Novv take your spectacles, chose vvhich youle vveare,
The true fooles coate, or haue fooles thinke you feare.

Prudence instructeth tem'prance vvhen to vse
Delights and pleasures, vvhen them to refuse.
VVho knovves not that the Dogs vvho liue by Nile,
Are taught by dangers to make hast the vvhile
They drinke the streame, for Crocodiles doe lie
Vnder the vvaters, vvherefore they must flie:
Vrg'de by necessitie they needes must drinke,
But Caution bids them only lap the brinke.
Man is composed after such a sort
That he must sometimes pleasures haue and sport,
Our Constitution is of such a mould,
That vvithout some delights vve cannot hold.
But tis a truth that pleasures though they smile
As dang'rous are as Crocodiles of Nile:
VVho then vvill harmes shun be his prudence such,
That he drinke not of pleasures vvaters much.
Let him not long at delights fountaine staie,
But hauing sipt, let him make hast avvaie.

Imagine novv vvhat a most goodly shevv
These stones do make plast'e in an ord'red rovve.
Bishops, Priests, Deacons, Cloyster keepers, Nuns,
And married folke, vvho fill the vvorld vvith sons.
To all these doth our vvisest Iesvs Preach,
And hovv they should maintaine their puesto teach,
He bids vvithall the vvorkemen to haue care,
That they do place each stone in that ranke, vvhere
It ought to stand: his calling must make fit
For the rovv eu'ry stone vvhere they set it.
Let not affection put stones here or there,
VVhen the chiefe vvorkman vvould haue them els vvhere
Oh vvhen the Architects obserue not this,
Disastrous ends crie something vvas amisse.
A cruell Lion the poore Prophet slaies,
VVhilest vvith fond tales him Bethels vvizard staies.
Our Iesvs is his Fathers vvisest Son,
And performes svveetly vvhat he vvill haue done.

Hee eu'ry one aduiseth there to stand
As he vvas plact' by the chiefe vvorkemans hand.
If high keepe there, if on the Temples side
Remaine he there, if lovv, there let him bide.
Let not the eare, and hand desire to see
Nor vvhere the head is the foote aske to bee:
Oh hovv securely had Christs people slept;
If euery man this order vvell had kept?
Did not Bizantium set the Church on fier?
VVhilest her proud Prelate labour'd to be higher
Then God ordaind? And in our Northerne line
A stone vvas plac'd vvhich as a starre did shine,
But falling from that ranke vvherein he stood,
He vvallovved vvith the Hog in sensuall Mud.
Mee thinkes I see the Dragon once more fall,
And vvith his beastly tayle from heau'ns high hall
Many faire starre pull dovvne: Priests my Muse meanes
VVhom he made Marry, nay for vviues take queanes:
So he their Lucifer before had done,
VVhen for his Paramour he tooke a Nun.

Iesvs such cunning his Apostles taught
That vvith great praise their Maister-peece they vvrought:
But amongst all vvho chiefly doth excell
Is learned Pavle, he beares avvay the Bell;
VVhether vve count his labours vvhich are most
Or curious vvorke, none like to him can boast.
VVe talke of Sages vvho haue runne about
The vvorld to finde a little knovvledge out.
So Plato and Pythagoras haue done,
VVho for Arts sake vvas burnt by Indian Sun.
Plato vnto Gymnosophists durst goe
That he their abstruse mysteries might knovv.
VVas there a land in that age to vs knovvne,
VVhether Pavle vvent not to fetch vvood and stone?
Arabia, Greekeland, Ilands, Asia, Rome
Of his great industrie to vvitnesse come.
VVhat arr, vvhat labour shevves he in his vvorke
As he fits peeces for our Iesvs Kirke,
And for the stones vvhich in this Church haue place
Are liuing stones, (the life is Faith and Grace.)
Hee neuer thinkes that he hath done his part,
If Iesvs name be not vvrit in each hart.

Ile trauel vvhere the Orientall Sun
VVith fierie jades doth his carreire first run,
And fetching Xaver, place him vvith great Pavle
Since in so many things, yea almost all
Alike they are: before Great states and Kings
Great Iesvs name this chosen vessel brings.
Of conquer'd Sergius did Pavle get his name?
Let conquerd Iapon augment Francis fame.
VVhen in our vvorld, France, Portingal, Spaine, Rome
He gath'red had of stones an endles some,
He goes, vvhere first Aurora looketh red,
(Blushing to thinke on her Tithonus bed)
There he plaies Peter, and into the dores
Of Iesvs Church lets many thousand Mores.
VVee vvill hereafter from that speach refraine
VVho a More vvasheth laboureth in vaine.
Hovv augments he our building as for it,
Three hundreth thousand stones he maketh fit?

Yee pamp'red Chaplines, vvho in dovvnie beds,
Betvvixt your Lemmans armes repose your heads:
Darkenesse infernall Monarke doth not feare
That you to Indies Iesvs name shall beare.
He knovves your Paramours, vvith vvhom you sleepe
From such a vvarfare you at home vvill keepe:
His Kingdome is secure these Syrens charmes
From hurting him enfeeble shall your armes.
You are vvith Hannibal in Capys tovvne,
And Citrie Dames shall take your courage dovvne:
Though heau'ns againe the Giaunts troups should dread
Vulcan can make no bolts in Venus bed.

'Gainst God himselfe sin and hell a stirre keepe
VVhilst you vvith your faire Cithereas sleepe.
Vp, vp you sluggards from your slumber rise,
Frame boltes on Virtues Anuil in such vvise,
As may befitt Ioue from Olympus Hill
To fling, and vvith them Tellus of-spring kill.
Novv you make vvooden daggers, leaden svvords,
VVhilst your life is not ansvv'ring to your vvords:
The bullets vvhich you shoote are made of claie,
VVhilst you your selues performe not vvhat you saie:
Nor are they temp'red vvith that heau'nly heate
VVhich in sole Sion hath his proper seate,
And to one house alone by gift of heau'n
In daies long since of Pentecost vvas geu'n.
Thence vvith Prometheus fetch this diuine flame
From priuate spirit such fire neuer came.
Tesiphone or some more Hellish Ghoast
Giues them vvilde fire, vvho of this spirit boast.

God promist he vvould Fisher men prouide
VVho should in Peters boat each time and tide
VVith Nets and Angles in fresh streames, and brookes
In the salt sea, in armes, in creekes, in crookes
A Fishing goe (mens soules the fishes bee
Of these at once Peter caught fiftie three.
God promist he vvould likevvise huntesmen giue
VVho should the hills, the vales vvhere beasts doe liue:
The Rockes, the holes, yea eu'ry vncouth nooke
To finde their game vvith great industrie looke.

Are you these Fishermen? then knovv much fish
Is in VVest Indies: Peter could not vvish
Genesareth more plenteous: thether goe,
And make those Pagans Iesvs beliefe knovv.
Theres game enough; in eu'ry streame, each brooke
You may take Fish either vvith net or hooke.

Are you these huntsmen then goe seeke your game,
In Mogor, Iaua you shall finde the same.
Doe vvee beleeue amisse? then to vs come,
Tell vs of Christs faith vvhat is the true summe.
Doe you feare death? tush that is nothing, knovv
That Iesvs faith by Martyrdomes must grovv.
Oh burnt your soules vvith Charities true zeale!
You vvould dilate your Iesvs common vveale:
You'de not expect game should fall in your mouth
But you vvould goe to East, VVest, North, and South
As huntsmen after soules, and eu'ry vvhere
To Iesvs holy seruice Churches reare.

But am I frantique? as I persvvade those
Of the same Cittie to be mutuall foes.
Schisme, errour, paganisme together dvvell
They all are Cittizen of the same Hell.
Those Kingdomes ruinated soone vve see
VVhere ciuil enmities and factions bee.
VVherefore that long hels common vvealth may stand,
You vvill not budge a foote out of your land.
Let those vvho vvill to farthest Indies goe
You vvarmely sleepe, and meane to keepe you soe
So did your Ancestors, and t'is a sin
For you nevv fangled customes to begin.
Tell me in histories can it be shovvne
That sects to Iesvs Church haue brought a stone?
O had you heau'nly fire vvithin your brest
Surely it vvould not there confined rest.
T'vvould make you leaue base earth and mount on high
And vvith zeales vvings to distant regions flie.
There to communicate this heaunly flame
And burne all harts vvith loue of Iesvs name.
So did this æmulatour of great Pavle
Flie vvith seraphique vvings 'bout the vvorlds ball.
And in each land his Iesvs tropheis raise,
Teaching all nations to sing Iesvs praise.
So before him many a zealous son
Of Bennet, Francis, Dominick haue done.
Men for such actions fit: of single liues
Not cumbered vvith clokebags called VViues.

In this faire building not the meanest hand,
Hast thou deare youth, vvho by the Crosse didst stand
At Iesvs death, and lou'd aboue all other,
VVeart there Created Son of Iesvs Mother.
VVhen vvee see Iesvs Church vvith gold so shine,
VVeele saie th' Embroid'ry vvorke vvas chiefly thine.
To loue thou doest the harts of mortalls moue
Thy Edicts commaund nothing els but loue.
In life loue is thy song, at hovvre of death
VVith a loue song, thou yeeldest vp thy breath.
VVith Charitie thou guildest eu'ry stone
In golden vvordes persvvading eu'ry one,
To plaie a Iesvs in the louing art,
And thinke each neighbour must be as thou vvert
Chiefely belou'd, each man a Iesvs bee,
And loue his brother as Christ loued thee.

Heere vvee behold a troupe of English men,
VVho vvith their labours, and industrious Pen
Build Iesvs Church; so Bonifacivs taught
Germans our Faith, and to Christs Temple brought.
And vvee vvill VVillebrord vvho first of all
Made Frisons Christians, their Apostle call
Both appertaining to Cassinos Mount
VVhose Catalogue such numberlesse can count.

Cassinos Mount a second horse of Troie,
Bringing foorth vvorthies Hels tovvne to destroie.
Cassineos Mount a Trojan horse vvhere dvvel
Heroes vvho sacke not Ilion but Hell.
Saint Bennet vvas the Chiron vvho first taught
And these Pelides to perfection brought.)

Mongst these Iohn Lidgat stands, of speciall note,
Crovvnd vvith greene baies & cloth'd vvith the same coate
As I see him vvith others our Church build,
I am vvith joye and admiration fild.
I vvill approach the Man, and of him aske,
Hovv he came thether, vvho gaue him a taske
Being a Poet, full of vvandring fires,
To vvorke amongst these venerable sires
For I (fond man) made hetherto a count
That Poets vvent not past the forked Mount:
But since they climbe vp Sions sacred Hill;
I care not much if I make verses still.

O yes quoth Lidgate, for though novv a daies,
The Crovvne of glorie, and Apolloes baies
So seldome meet. vvhilst Poets suite their rimes,
After the vvanton humour of the times,
Yet former ages often-times haue seene
Our Christian Prophets deckt vvith Lavvrel greene
Ascend Olympus Mount: vvhere their chast laies
Revvarded are vvith glories glitt'ring raies,
And Poets brovves vvith Lavvrels Crovvned are,
(King David (Poets Phœbus) hath this care:
So is Sidonius Crovvnd, Prudence vvho vvrit
Things vvorthy of Apollo full of vvitt.
Prosper, Sedulius, vvho the nine haue taught
VVhen they sing hymnes to blush as Maidens ought.

Leauing this vvorthy Man, and thousand more,
Of the same Coate vvhom time makes vs passe o're.
VVee come to Rochester, vvho lost his head
For not allovving Henries lavvlesse bed.
Arts treasurie, chiefe darling of the nine,
Historian, Poet, Oratour, Diuine.
Linguist Philosopher, Statesman to King:
Best husband, Father, vvhat not? eu'ry thing.
If thou art graue vvee see a Cato sit,
If merry, flovves the Quintessence of vvit:
Renovvned More, Collegue in Fishers Crovvne,
VVhom no aduersity, no Harries Frovvne
Can make approue vvhat Iesvs thinkes not good,
VVhose Church thou buildest as thou shedst thy bloud.

Graue Pole her child, vvhom true Relligions sake
A Margarite in Iesvs Church doth make.
VVhom doth not Bristol vvith his vvritings moue?
VVho doth not Reignolds for his braue vvit loue?
Industrious Harpsfeild, vvhose laborious Quill
Doth vvith Church Records our Musæum fill.
VVhat Sanders merits in this building be,
By his conspicuous Monarchie vve see.
And shall vvee forget Stapilton vvho goes
Arm'd Capapea against Iesvs foes,
Hovv doth he rouse the Boare out of his den,
And strike him dead vvith a vvell-guided Pen?
VVee must beleue vvhen vvee his vvritings read,
Saint Hierome vvhilest hee liued vvas not dead.

And thou my Londons Campion, vvho at once
To our Foundation bringest thy ten stones,
Neuer dost thinke thy reasons fully good,
Till they be vvritten vvith a Martyrs bloud.

Illustrous Alan of more honourd note,
For thy great labours, then the Purple Coate
And Scarlet Hat, vvhich Simon Peters heire
Did cause thee for thy vvorthy acts to vveare.

Chiefe Architect, best vvorkman of thy daies,
As thou thy Dovvay Monument dost raise,
Thou found'st a quarry vvhich faire stones shall yeild,
VVhereof our Iesvs vvill his Temple build.
And vvhen vvee see thy Children stones make fit,
VVee saie that Alan liues, and labours yet.

Gifford first Peere of France: of speciall note
VVas thy great virtue, vvhen Saint Benets Coate,
Thou didst put on: as thou the vvorld dost scorne
VVith flying it, thou doest much more adorne
Thy vvorthy selfe: A candle must not bide
Vnder a Bushell; Cloisters cannot hide
Thy virtues luster: mightie Princes see
Thy talents, and on Candlesticke place thee:
VVhere like the glorious Sun thou giuest light,
Expelling vvith bright raies the shade of night.

VVell on thy head (Bishop) doth Miter sit
Thy labours for our Church haue made it fit.
Happie thrice happie vvould our England be
If all the Prelates vveare like vnto thee.
But since vvee see our dearest Countrie blest
VVith such a Bishop, vvee vvill hope the rest.
VVhilst Kellison each builders vvorke doth vievv,
Hee shevves vvho haue the false Church, vvho the true.
Sound VVrite in mans large volume deepely read,
Preparing ghuests for Iesvs mystike bread.
Doth not our Champney the true Prelate Crovvne,
VVhilst he casts from their throne vsurpers dovvne?
Smyth a true Goldsmith ballaunces doth hold
VVith vvhich hee vveigheth drosse, and vvaighty gold.
(The gold makes my nevv builded Tempel fine
VVith the Drosse Satans Synagogues doe shine,)
His ballance eake all sorts of monie vveighs.
The Counterfeit (such is rife novv a daies)
Of Copper coyned is, vvhich verie lovv
In an heretique mine cald Hell doth grovv,
Satan chiefe coiner is, but he all naught
Arch-heretikes this Cos'ning art hath taught.
VVho hauing stampt Christs picture on their Coine,
And vvith the scriptures making their brasse shine:
They vovv and svveare (so impudently bold
Are they) because it glisters tis true gold.
Manie they doe deceiue, and vvould doe more
As Smyth is, vveare there not of goldsmiths store.

VVhen they discouerd are by Iesvs Lavv,
(Some punishing others to keepe in avv)
On Pillaries as Cosoners they stand,
VVhere vvhilst ignoble shame their fronts doth brand
They loose their eares, for lost they not each eare,
It is impossible but they should heare
An Oecumenick Councill, vvhere all vvise,
And learned of the vvorld make lovvdest cries.
Aemonian Boreas vvhen as he doth rage
And vvarre against Neptunes vast Kingdome vvage
Making the vvaues one 'gainst another fight,
And vvith contention foaming turne all vvhite,
No, not great loue, vvhen vvith his thundring noyce
Hee shakes our Machin, hath a louder voice.
Then Fathers thus assembled vvhen they smite
VVith their Anathemas these sons of night.
Yet i'st not vvonderfull? more deafe are they
Then Fish vvhich svvimme in bottome of the sea.
(VVaues of this vvorld, of Pride, of Schisme, of Sinne,
Stop close their eares, and let no noyce come in.

More deafe then Fusius vvas, vvhom vvhen he plaide
Afflicted Hecuba the vvofull Maide
Polyxena ordained for an hoast,
To satisfie Achillis angrie Ghost.
VVith hollovves, clamours, scrickings, loudest cries
Could not make him from his deepe slumber rise.
Doctors, Church, Fathers hollovv eu'ry vvhere,
Arch-heretikes are deafe, and vvill not heare.

Ingenious Flovd, vvhose brest the nine did hire
Long since; thereof to make their Muses quire:
Thy brest, the mansion of each grace, each art,
Thy brest th' attractiue gainer of each hart,
True Israelite vvithout vnfaithfull guiles
VVithout Pelasgian artes, and Sinons vviles.
In virtue thou art first, though some may goe
In policies beyond thee, so vvee knovv
The children of this vvorld haue quicker sight
In the supplanting art, then Sons of light.
Thou art Achilles, and at Babel tovvne
Able to kill Thersites vvith thy frovvne.
Art thou the Man, vvhose Pen againe made right,
That stone vvhich from his due place fell dovvne quite
Spalatoes Prelate? vvhen high Cedars fayle,
Shal not their ruine make lesse shrubs looke pale.
None eake dispaire, mercy for sins to finde
VVhen Iesvs is to such a trespasse kinde.

Goe forvvard vvorthy man, and vvith thy quill,
The Boare vvhich rooteth Iesvs garden, kill:
Goe forvvards vvorthy man and vvith thy vvit
VVrite such braue vvorkes, as haue not yet bene vvrit.
VVho see this Poeme, joyntly let them see
That I doe loue, yea ovve my selfe to thee.
Into the greater Floud so lesse Brookes run
From vvhence at first their Origen begun.

Yee learned Esdræ, vvho from Forraine lands,
Returning build Christs Church vvith pious hands,
Prosper in this your vvorke, againe repaire
Decaied Sion, aed make it more faire
Then t'vvas before, let true faith sustaine all,
The roofe be Charitie; firme Hope the vvall,
As Ivdas clense our Church; and in the same
Each vvhere aduance great Iesvs Crosse and name.
VVith Cyrvs Gods annoynted you haue grace,
Your Attaxerxes graunts a breathing space,
Giuing out Edicts in his royall name,
That none dare let the inchoated frame.
The pleased heau'ns promise a lasting peace,
And Sanaballats from molesting cease.
Esteeme this gracious fauour therefore such,
Because your Queene can do vvith King so much.

There founders of Relligious orders svveat,
Their diligence is much, their labour great:
For Iesvs them commaunds vvith cunning hand
To fit those pieces vvhich in chiefe place stand.
The stones they hevve vvhen as they are too rough,
They plaine the vvood, vvhen tis not smooth enough.
VVe Christian Candor may the plane vvell call
VVith vvhich they make vvhat is vneuen fall.
The Hammer vvhich the rugged stones doth smite,
Is a sharpe toole of abnegation hight.

And first my Muse of glorious Benet count,
VVho climing vp Cassinos loftie mount,
Hevv'de many stones by Iesvs so much grac'de,
That they in Temples very top vvere plac'de.
Religious schollers of great Benets schole
For many hvndreth yeares the Church did rule.
Hovv many thousands of the selfe-same coate,
In Sions Quire chaunt Alleluias note?

And blessed Francis vvho aboue the rest,
In that grace shinest vvhich of all is best,
Humilitie: vvhen I doe thinke of thee,
I must recall vvhat Iesvs hath for mee.
And my sins suffred: thy mark'd body shovves
Iesvs fiue vvoundes causd by so many blovves.
VVast not enough that thou didst dravv so neare
To Iesvs in thy soule, but thou must beare
His likenesse in thy limms? in feete handes side
Must Iesvs holy characters be spide?
Because thy hart vvith Iesvs loue aboundes,
Therefore in thy blest flesh are Iesvs vvoundes,
And not alone from plenty of the hart.
Thy mouth speakes Iesvs, but eke eu'ry part.

Some as they see the vvorke vvhich thou hast vvrought
And vievv; the stones, vvhich by thy labour brought
Increase the building, make a jest, and saie
VVithout a foole there cannot be a plaie.
They thinke thee foolish, vvho thy ritches store
Didst giue avvaie, and aftervvards liue poore.
And it is true a foole blest man thou vvert,
And novv thy holy sons plaie the fooles part.
But he vvho vvhat is folly knovveth best
VVhat vvisdome, as he preacheth doth not jest.
That vvho are fooles in the vvorlds purblinde eies,
In Gods best seeing sight are truly vvise.

And if vve rightly censure he's a sott
VVho judgeth that for good vvhich good is not.
Hovv many doe vvee see, vvho are all ill
Haue riches, honours, pleasures at their vvill?
VVhen good are poore (if there can good men be
In this vilde vvorld vvhere most men bad vve see,
Therefore Antiquitie makes Plutus blinde,
Because he seldome honest men can finde
To pleasure vvith his drosse: the very same
As to the good Ioue sendeth him falls lame.
But vvhen hee's bid to vvicked men repaire,
He puts on vvings, and flieth in the aire.

In our great Iesvs vvas all vvisdomes store,
Yet did he liue contemned here and poore.
VVhat pleasures had he? vvhom he loued best
His Mother and Apostles nere could rest
Alvvaies in troubles; of all men thought vvorst
Despis'de, neglected, suffring hunger, thirst,
Cloth'd poorely, entertaind vvith scoffes, vvith quips.
Esteemd seducers, dang'rous; beate vvhith vvhips.
Surely if vvorldly men the right vvay goe
Iesvs vvould not haue let his friends liue soe.
Further great Saint, though thy sons appeare base,
This verie basenesse doth the temple grace.
The stones are rough, vvhich vndermost of all
Support the building that it doe not fall.
Such stones in vision that great Prelate savv
VVho gaue allovvance to thy stricter lavv.
In the vvorld is varietie of things,
All cannot Kesars be and mightie Kings.
All are not persons fit for Princes court.
There must be some vvho are of meaner sort:
Some must to Indies goe, some in shops stand
There must be contriemen to plough the land.
Yet this so much varietie of place
Not only must be, but eke giues a grace.
Neither are riches equally to all
Out dealt; some are vvhom vvealthy men vve call.
Others are poore, vvhat then? thers no lesse art
In representing vvell the poore mans part.
Then in the acting of a King or Duke
VVisemen vvhat part is plaid not so much looke,
As hovv t'is done: you vvill graunt Iesvs vvise
Yet he plaid Codrus in a poore mans guise.
Codrus he acted and in beggers vveed
1876: To saue his people vvillingly did bleed.

(Happy vvho chose vvith Iesvs to be poore,
And vvith their Maister beg from doore to doore.
Happy thrice happy such: this is my note;
Though the vvorld laugh, and forthvvith saie I dote)
Our Iesvs knevv if he should keepe his state,
No malice vvould præoccupate his fate.
No Priests vvould for him thirtie pence out tell
No Iudas vvould his sou'raigne so cheape sell.
VVherefore he makes himselfe vvith Codrus poore
And by his death doth man to life restore.
Francis exprest the poore mans person to
VVhich he of Iesvs learned so to doe,
That vvhen the dramme vvith his life did expire
A clap vvas giu'n by God and Angels quire.

And thou, though last, yet not Loiola least
As daintie junkets at end of a feast,
So novv the vvorld is old and almost past,
Thou dost invite and please our Christian tast:
VVhen vvith thee in thy banner thou dost bring
The name of Iesvs our all conq'ring King.
Blest such true Sons, vvho in their hart and flag
Haue Iesvs vvrit, and vvith their Father brag
Not in fames shaddovv, sumptuous buildings, drosse,
But only in their Iesvs name and Crosse.

VVhat hath Semiramis obtaind the Crovvne,
And shevves Magnificence in Babels tovvne?
Or doe the Amazons for Ilions sake
By Argiues ransaked a nevv Troie make?

Hath Dido as shee sees Sichæus dead
Into hott Afrique from Pigmalion fled.
VVhere shee imploies the treasure of her Purse,
In the erecting of a stately burse.
Our chiefe Preist Iesvs through false treason dies,
From second Nuptials his Eliza flies.
Martha the vveeping Maries sister fled
First in this maner a Pigmalions bed.
And vvith her folke comming to Marsiles shore,
Of liuing stones gath'red a royall store
To build a Church, vvhere rightly should be done,
Best victimes to her Gods eternal son.
These stones vvere Virgins, Chrysolithes them name,
For they refined vvere in true loues flame.

A troope of royall dames to labour fall,
Some the foundation, some build vp the vvall:
Most of the Companie ascend aboue,
And deck the highest roofe vvith golden loue.
As in a summer month vvee often see
The hiues frequented by the busie Bee,
Some goe from home, some come backe to the Hiue,
Each pritty soule as Emulous doth striue
VVho shall doe most? the drones and vvho are slacke
As they approach, are from the hiue beat backe:
Some to bring vp the young ones haue a care,
Some to vnburden those vvho loaden are
VVhilst none are idle, none spend ill their time,
The honied house smels redolent vvith thyme.

In this Parthenian troupe none idle stand,
But to the labour each one puts her hand,
And bring vvell-tasting honie to the hiues,
(Their actions honie are suck'd from Saints liues)
On flovv'res of Saints braue deedes these Virgins rest,
And by praire feeding suck out, vvhat is best.
They learne of Dominick and Katrine zeale
To praie and labour for their neighbours vveale.
Of Francis they humilitie doe learne,
Of Clare hovv to themselues they shalbe stearne,
And full of svveete they come backe to their home
VVhere they the honie make and honie combe.
All full of louely svveet, amongst them all
Not one conuerseth vvho hath the least gall.

That Iesvs Church neuer hath shades of night,
But a perpetuall and constant light,
Thereof vvee must ascribe not the least part
To these Bees and their honie making art.
These Maiden Bees a Virgin vvaxe doe vvorke
Of vvhich are Candles made for Iesvs Kirke.
Their liues are Torches, from vvhence light is gi'un,
VVhich as men see they praise the God of heau'n,
Marcella, Fabia, Pavla and her childe
Evstochivm in such vvorke vvere neuer toild.
(Evstochivm natures vvonder in vvhose brest,
Most arts, all virtues, chiefest tongues did rest)

VVe thee (Scholastica) amongst the first
Behold a Romaine Clælia, vvho durst
Be author to thy high descended Dames,
Hovv they shall eternize their royall names.
VVhen thy Eduina sprung of English Kings
Vnto our Temple a ritch Saphyr brings,
VVee'le say by her oblation may be seene
Although she spurn'd a Crovvne, shee vvas a Queene.
Of many Hildas, Rictruds could vvee tell,
By thee instructed in religious Cell
To offer amethysts vvhose virtues rare
Against intemperance approoued are.

Of vvell tun'de voices to make vp a Quire,
VVe vvill not goe vvith Ieremie, and hire
Lamenting vvoemen, vvho shall Nenias sing,
For good Iosias death their slaughtred King.
Thy English Nymphes (Great Saint) shall neuer fayle
By daie, by night their Iesvs death to vvaile.
They shall in streetes of Adradremon mone,
And in the blacke fieldes of Mageddo grone.
They shall fill Adadremmon vvith said cries,
Because Iosias in Mageddo dies.

Great Gregorie procurer of our blisse
The Quires chiefe Maister, and directour is.
Though Pope, yet for his Father Benets sake
He for his sisters holy songs vvill make,
And though the ditties vvith their tunes are plaine,
Yet there is Majestie in eu'ry straine:
Yea though deaths songs resound in eu'ry place,
Yet shall this sorrovv giue the Musike grace.
And men shal argue as their rauisht eare,
Such pleasant straines of Melodie doth heare:
VVhether on Organs once more Angels plaie,
VVhilest manie Cecilies together praie.
Or els the Nine leauing their forked hill,
Our lovver Orbe vvith Harmonie doe fill.

Here also vve behold bare-footed Clare.
Her Damsels eake though noble bare-foote are:
I dispute vvith my selfe vvhat shall be done,
By these so royal Ladies vvithout shoone.
Doth it by Iesvs vvill to their lot fall,
To prepare Morter for the Churches vvall?
Yes sure, Clare vvas a Morter treading Dame,
The Morter vvas riches, base pleasures, fame,
To trample on such Morter Clare did vse,
This vvas the reason vvhy shee vvore no shoes:
And that trash vvith vvhose loue the vvorld doth burne,
Her chaster of-spring vvith their feete doe spurne.
Doe vve not see vvhilst these such Morter tread,
The vvoeman brusing the old serpents head.

Iesvs to Francis, he to Clare did Preach,
And all of pouertie a lesson teach.
She learnes her Nuns in spirit to be poore
And then vvhat nature askes to vse no more.

Nay the strict lavves of pouertie are such
That often-times it must not haue so much.
For vvhere sufficient is, nothing doth vvant,
Tis certaine that there Pouertie is scant.
VVhere transitorie things abundant are,
There vve doe vvant true daughters of poore Clare.
Each Nun must be familiar vvith these foure
Daughters of pouertie all Christned poore.
Poore fare, poore Clothes, poore lodging, and poore Cell.
Let her not thinke her selfe in health, not vvell,
Vnlesse to these foure sisters vvhom her God
So much esteemes, shee joyne herselfe the od.

Teresa glorie of novv-dearest Spaine
Top of Carmelus, smoothing vvith thy Plane,
VVhat rugged is: each sexe thou makest nevv
VVhilst thou dost both vvith abnegation hevv,
Surely blest Nymph, Elias vvill not grieue,
If in his order vve a share thee giue.
Nor can his children justly make complainte,
As Iesvs giues a Canonized Sainte:
So vvhen the troopes of Iabin conqu'red are
Barach and Iahels vvife the glorie share.
Tis true, foyld Sisara from Barach fled,
Yet Iahels vvife the nayle strucke on the head.
The great Elias put selfe-loue to flight,
Thou vvith thy perfect rule dost kill him quite.
In Moyses lavv vvhat only vvas in chase,
Is fully vanquish't in the lavv of grace.

Sure Zevxis had much choise, vvho vvhen he vvas,
To paint Ioues sister as a beauteous las,
A thousand Virgins had of feature rare,
Lims equally compacted, faces faire
Presented to his vievv, that euery part
VVhich vvas most eminent by his great art
He might expresse; one Virgin gold thread vveares
In tresses place: he dravves her golden heires.
He paints anothers forehead high yet plaine
There Venus might make sport, and Iuno raigne:
And curiouslie obserueth all theit eyes
As vvanton Cupid vp and dovvne them flies;
And vvhere the Boye is vvaggish, yet in avve
Of Mothers presence, he that eye doth dravv.
He makes a nose rise like a marble tovvre,
Hee eies too lips in vvhich as in a bovvre
Fragrant vvith Roses delight lou'de to dvvell
(Roses they vvere for colour and for smell)
Hee dravves the Colour vvith his pensil right,
To giue the smell exceeds his Pensils might.
Eares as Bee-hiues he makes; though no Bee there
(For Bees vvith stings might the beholders feare)
(But in the patterne may be there vvare some,
For hovv should honie els in the hiues come?)
Yet tvvo rich perles (and they shevvd vvondrous vvel)
Did hang as Clappers at each siluer Bell.
A dimple graced much a Ladies chin
Dravving that part he put the dimple in.
A Nymph as her the painter much doth vievv,
Dieth her cheekes vvith a Vermilion hevv,
Those cheekes vvhich by that blushing got much grace,
Hee blushing paintes, and so makes vp his face.
Like to the face all parts dovvne to the feet,
In handsomnes and just proportion meete.
To vvhich he could no more perfection giue,
Vnlesse his cunning had made all to liue.
But had Prometheus giu'n heate to this Dame,
VVe should againe haue hear of Paris flame,
And once more Phrigians through Sicilians ire,
Should haue done penance vvith their Citties fire.

Surely vvhen blest Teresa did deuise
The model of her vvorke, before her eies
God set each order, as a beauteous Dame
That vvhat in each vvas perfect, in her frame
Shee might expresse, vvith eu'ry order stands
Iesvs great selfe, the vvorke of vvhose blest hands
Each order is. Teresa on him lookes
His vvordes her lessons are, his deedes her bookes.
Shee markes that he doth doe far more then saie
VVhen he commands, he leads himselfe the vvaie.
Therefore to Nuns shee Preacheth vvith her actes,
And teacheth not so much by vvordes as facts.

As she her life in vvritings forth doth bring,
VVith Xenophon she faineth not a King,
But in her selfe trulie expresseth hovv,
A votarie is bound to keepe her vovv.
If Virtues fulnesse anie vvhere doth vvant,
Tis vvhere the humble virtue made her scant.

As she each order vievves, a graue svveete Quire,
From one she learnes, though charities best fire
Descend from heau'n: yet she obserues the care
Another hath by meanes of mentall praier
To keepe it in: This praier must serue the turne,
And in her Virgins breasts make loues fire burne.
And vvithout this Relligion is nighte,
This must to each act giue a cheerefull lighte.
Her Nuns must oft retire vnto their Cell,
And there reflect, hovv idly or hovv vvell
They haue spent precious time: hovv that or this
They may amend: vvhen it is done amisse.
VVhen in obeying they are slovv, vvhen halt,
VVhat motiues, and vvhat meanes to mend this fault.

Terrene propensions doe keepe dovvne their soule,
Some blemishes their purity make foule.
Here meditation makes them mount on highe
And to the top of all perfection flie,
To vvash their sins in Iesvs clensing bloud
And bath their errours in a vveeping floud.

Of him vvhose rare discretion is seene
In invvard motions, the foure virtues Queene
Prudence she learnes, this doth direct her Quill.
VVhilest she her Papers doth vvith precepts fill:
She teacheth hers to meditate on sins,
And Hell; as complacence of good begins
To puffe them vp; againe vvhen feares cast dovvne
To ponder Gods great mercy, and heau'ns crovvne.
She hamm'reth much on this, doth this much Preach,
Hovv vnto God alone their loue must reach.
They feare loue, honour must, and serue their God
For himselfe onely, not for feare of rod,
VVhich punisheth transgressours, not for lust
Of those svveete meates, vvherevvith he feedes the just.
She teacheth them, although on earth they dvvell
To build vvithin their soules an heau'nly Cell.
(The Saints their God in the heau'ns alvvaies finde,
God dvvelleth in a recollected minde.)

Mans body is not made of iron or stone
As our soule is not flesh, so t'is not bone.
Fond dissolution doth the spirit spill
Too much attention doth the vvhole man kill.
VVherefore of approou'de Orders she doth take
Each best thing, and a temp'red medly make.
In Moyses lavv Gods people shevv'd their loue,
In sacrifizing of a Turtle Doue.
A bird vvhich doth due hovvres and seasons knovv,
And at fit times vnto her home doth goe.

Her daughters offer Turtles vvhen they spend
In pious mirth the hovvre, vvhich for that end
Their rule appoints, nor is their vvonted fier
VVith this made lesse, but rather flieth higher.
As sacred birds they mutually doe moue
Each other by such conference to loue.
They offer Turtles vvhen they leaue to speake,
For feare they should commanded silence breake.
Then they goe home, I meane vnto their Cell
VVhere in reflection of past talke they dvvell.

She vvas instructed in great Iesvs schole
In such a sort to mitigate her rule.
That the most tender may i'ts rigour bide,
And yet the strong complexion may be tride.
The flesh vvith too much pampring is too bold,
VVith too much curbing long it cannot hold:
Shee doth not vnto this or that side leane
But euer treadeth in the golden meane.
No vvonder then, though Iesvs mother vvill
Make her chiefe mansion in vvhite Carmel hill:
No vvonder eke though in our Iesvs time
So many Nymphs the top of Carmel climbe.

Thus (mighty Princes) vvee a Church haue built
Eu'n from the ground our vvals reard, the roofe guilt
VVith lampe enlight'ned it, vvith Pictures grac'te
(Your ancestors) firme Pillars in it plac'te.
And set on top thereof a loud voic'de Bell
VVhich shall hereafter times and ages tell
VVhose Church it is: the Priest, the Hoast (Gods Son)
VVhat Sacramentall rites in it are done)
VVe haue describde, and added a svveete Quire,
Giu'n eake vnto our vvorkemen their due hire
A grateful memorie: all vvhich at first
VVe for your royall sakes begun, and durst
Goe forvvardes in the inchoated frame,
Till vvee had fully perfited the same:
VVherefore in justice giuing all their due,
Our Church and Architect belongs to you.
To you belongs the vvhole, to you each stone,
Accept then, and protect vvhat is your ovvne.

God Kings for fathers to his Church vvill giue
For Nurces Queenes: our Church beginnes to liue,
It is a Babe, in England nevvlie borne
You roiall couple shall not thinke it scorne
To plaie the Nurces: Mighty Charles make fit
Such nutriment, vvhich shall giue strength to it:
Be thou our David, vvho vvhen a Beare came
And from the flocke did beare avvaie a Lambe
VVith Monsters death redeem'de the sheepe let Beare:
Let rau'nous Boare thy Princely povver feare,
Yea let the Dragon in the Desert vvilde
Not dare for feare of thee approach our Child.
Faire Nymph may our Babe in thy bosome rest,
May it suck milke, yea Nectar from thy brest,
If Agags race dare threat the Infant harme,
Sheild and support it vvith thy Princely arme.

And you good times make hast, yee moments run:
If euer, novv t'is requisit the sun
Should take Post-horse, and gallop to that signe
In vvhose conjuncture Albion shall joyne
VVith Hesperie, and in perpetual bands
Of Amitie vnite tvvo glorious lands.
Our Charles like vnto vvhom the vvorld hath none,
Shall take a Marie the vvorlds onely one,
And joyntly vvith their Hymenæan bed
England and Spaine eternally shall vved.


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Poems About Fathers

  1. 1. Iesvs Praefigvred: Or A Poem Of The Holy.. , John Abbott
  2. 2. Lathmon , James Macpherson
  3. 3. Temora - Book V , James Macpherson
  4. 4. My Country 'Tis Of Thee , John Pierpont
  5. 5. Suspicious Minds , Daniel Nester
  6. 6. The Legends Of Evil , Rudyard Kipling
  7. 7. Temora - Book Viii , James Macpherson
  8. 8. ! His Love Remains... , Inner Whispers
  9. 9. Just For Fathers! , Clarence Prince
  10. 10. Love All Four , Clarence Prince
  11. 11. An Important News Bulletin , Udiah (witness to Yah)
  12. 12. The Battle Of Lora , James Macpherson
  13. 13. Prayer To St Joseph , Justin Reamer
  14. 14. For Fathers On Father's Day , Clarence Prince
  15. 15. Lament , robert dickerson
  16. 16. Father Poetry: Fathers Are , Loyd C. Taylor, Sr.
  17. 17. What Are Fathers Made Of? , Diane Wright
  18. 18. Temora - Book V1 , James Macpherson
  19. 19. The Missionary - Canto Fourth , William Lisle Bowles
  20. 20. To The Best Father Ever , Udiah (witness to Yah)
  21. 21. Get To Stepping And Adventure Your Life , Lawrence S. Pertillar
  22. 22. The War Of Caros , James Macpherson
  23. 23. Temora - Book Vii , James Macpherson
  24. 24. The Kings Prophecie , Joseph Hall
  25. 25. Not All Fathers Will Get A Chance To Cel.. , Elena Plotkin
  26. 26. Singled , veeraiyah subbulakshmi
  27. 27. The Prayer Of Jacob , John Logan
  28. 28. ' Asenath ' Daughter Of Mine , Dandy leo jr.
  29. 29. Temora - Book Iv , James Macpherson
  30. 30. Virgil Watched Them , Donald Revell
  31. 31. & Today There Is No Escape , Thom Schiele
  32. 32. How Slow The Wind , Emily Dickinson
  33. 33. Fathers Day Poem (...A Day Late...) , Oscar Mireles
  34. 34. Who Will Cry.. , Fathimath Mavy
  35. 35. Hymns And Odes V , John Pierpont
  36. 36. Why Dont You See? , Tiffany Baldwin
  37. 37. My Fathers Hand , Elliott B Wrinkleberry
  38. 38. Father's Day , Jim Milks
  39. 39. Phoenix Courts , RoseAnn V. Shawiak
  40. 40. Daughters , David Lewis Paget
  41. 41. Fathers’ Day,2008 , Dr John Celes
  42. 42. The Big Question , Ruth Walters
  43. 43. Fathers , Asif Andalib
  44. 44. My Father Was An Orphan , Patti Masterman
  45. 45. I Guess I`ve Always Been A Bum , Joshua Bantum
  46. 46. Hymns And Odes Xi , John Pierpont
  47. 47. Olden Age Papa And Modern Age Papa/ Papa.. , Bijay Kant Dubey
  48. 48. Children Need Their Fathers , Lawrence S. Pertillar
  49. 49. First Lesson , Phyllis McGinley
  50. 50. Silk Road , Nassy Fesharaki
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