Yea, and reduc'd to a more base degree, I must his iaylour and tormenter be."
This hatefull monster to confusion thrall,
Was once an angell, innocently white,
And had continu'd so but for his fall,
Whilst pride and envy did engender spite;
The spirituall substance tainted then with gall,
(Turn'd diabolicke) was extinguish'd quite:
So that thenceforth he nought save ill could doe,
When leaving God, all goodnesse left him too.
He fell of malice, mankind was deceav'd;
That syre of sinne to nurse it always striv'd,
And since by him that plague was first conceav'd,
Each sinne is his from whom all sinne deriv'd;
What due reward can be by him receav'd,
By whom of Heaven so many were depriv'd?
Who guilty is of every mischiefe gone,
Still tempting all, yet tempted was by none.
Yet bent for mischiefe, as he first beganne,
Farre from remorse, thus sparkling poison still,
He dare contest with Christ, outrageing man,
Though barr'd from acting, yet intending ill,
And those his thoughts which rest not suffer can,
(Since obiects want where he might use his will)
Turn'd backe as furies shall himselfe afflict,
Who still on some just vengeance must inflict.
Christ first doth show how he rebell'd above,
From whence expell'd with a deserv'd disgrace,
He straight did tempt the man whom God did love,
As he had done to make him loose his place;
Then all the meanes (that hate could hatch)did prove,
(No cause first given) to persecute his race;
Though God had told that one of them at last
Should punish him for all offences past.
Of all his course when casting up the scroules,
They finde each moment did some harme conspire,
That (even when dying) he distress'd weake soules,
So that no end could mitigate his ire;
But Christ the same for ever now controules,
And damnes him straight to Hell's eternall fire:
Where with his angels he must alwayes stay,
As long reserv'd in chaines for that great day.
This damned squadron sentenc'd thus to Hell,
The godly doe applaud Christ's just decree,
And his great judgment with amazement tell,
Which by effects they ravish'd are to see;
Their approbation doth content him well,
As assisters whom he admits to bee.
O what contentment do their soules imbrace,
Who now to judge the rest with him take place!
They now behold some of the wicked sort,
Who straight the worst that Hell can yeeld attend,
With whose vaine pride no creature could comport,
Whil'st them for happy worldlings did commend;
Yet were their pleasures but both deare and short,
Yea often times before themselves did end:
And by their suffrage, now they stand condemn'd,
Whom they as abject many times contemn'd.
Some now with glory eminently sit,
As Christ's deare friends, though here of humble race,
Whom they had scorn'd for fellowes to admit,
Or at their table to have taken place;
Yea, would have thought it for their state not fit,
Them with a signe of least regard to grace:
Yet (marking them so highly honour'd) now They would be glad still at their feet to bow.
But this distresse one vantage doth unfold,
Though out of time, when it can help no more,
They heare the truth, and all their faults are told,
Which had been still estrang'd from them before,
Whil'st awfull reverence dutious love controul'd,
So that what they affirm'd, their followers swore,
Whom now they blame, that they so base could be,
As bent to please, not daring to be free.
The reprobate (as obstinately ill)
Expostulating blasphemy doe use,
And with their crimes would burden others still,
Not to be clear'd, but that they may accuse;
Not onely doe they taxe God's spotlesse will,
And Satan's fraud, for what it did infuse:
But likewise men as meanes that they were lost,
And of all men they blame their parents most.
Their whole endeavours every parent strains,
By fortune's treasures to advance his heirs,
Who many times do loose by guilty gains,
Not (as was hop'd) true helps, but onely snares;
But few advis'dly do respect the pains
Which leade to vertue, and religious cares:
Such fondly are in breeding of their brood,
For goods too carefull, carelesse of their good.
Yet oft they faile even in that temporall end,
Who seeke by riches to secure their race,
Which by their death doth it at last attend,
And long-sought conquests waste in little space;
Where indigence and education bend,
Some left more poore, each way for wealth do trace,
Which oftentimes, the syre's damnation's price,
But strengthneth his that they may follow vice.
Nor is this glistring course the safest way,
By which to stand, one stablish may a state,
Since it oft times the owner doth betray
To vice and envy, an inviting baite,
So that they thus are tempted more to stray,
Or are o'rethrowne by some man's hopefull hate:
Thus riches swolne with pride is crush'd by spite,
Or doth (made soft) dissolve the owner quite.
Some foolish fathers with prepostrous love,
(To flattring children too indulgent still)
Even by their favour pestilent doe prove,
Like toying apes that doe with kindenesse kill,
Who whilst they them should by their judgement
Are carried head-long with the others' will: [move,
And must their griefe by any meanes appease,
Not striving to instruct, but how to please.
Their off-spring's course each parent should direct,
And as a patterne by example lead:
Then when they faile in yeelding due respect,
As insolent by too much favour made,
They should rebuke, reforme, and last correct;
For, better then whil'st quicke, to waile them dead:
Who would preserve, must many times annoy,
Where those that dote by sparing doe destroy.
Amongst the rest, some here their moane doe make,
Whom parents' strictnesse did from good restraine,
That of their state would no compassion take,
Nor lend the meanes that might their life maintaine;
But (as their coyne) did keep their count'nance backe
For wretchednesse, yet other grounds did faine:
Destruction's traynes, obnoxious unto all,
Not onely with the rest, are damn'd to Hell,
Whose threatned torments quaking soules appall,
But railing at them many thousands tell,
How they had beene the meanes to make them fall:
"This wretched comfort, the afflicted love,
That for their faults, they others may reprove."
But though they thus to make their faults seem lesse,
The Lord himselfe, the divels and men doe blame,
All doth afford no helpe for their distresse,
Nor workes it pitty, but augments their shame:
Like anguish doth their fellow partners presse,
And others doe with shouts their joyes proclaime:
Thus quite neglected in a desp'rate state,
They by contesting, but procure more hate.
As some (by sentence when condemn'd to dye)
By gazing troupes and friends, hemm'd round about,
The executioner attending by,
The coffin gaping, and the hatchet out,
Th' earth sometimes view,looke sometimes to the sky,
And, loth to leave them, due pretend some doubt:
Which thy must cleare, as which concernes their | From this sad sentence, backe to the Stygian state,
So glad to gaine some space from posting time.
The wicked thus (it seemes) could wish to stay,
The full performance of Christ's great decree,
As loth to leave this (though most fearefull) day,
The last of light that they shall ever see;
The eyes' deare objects vanish must away;
No prospect more for them can pleasant be:
No wonder though they seeke to shift a space,
Their dreadfull entry to that driry place.
But such delayes can yeeld their soules no ease,
Who rack'd by conscience, inwardly doe smart;
Save all to suffer, not what to appease,
No other thought can harbour in their heart;
That glorious face which doth the godly please,
To them strange feares with horrour doth impart:
So that their present paine hath so much force,
They scarce imagine any can be worse.
Those who were swift to sinne, to goodnesse slow,
And onely striv'd in folly to exceed,
O! when they finde that which they justly owe, The endlesse paines which ended joyes doe breed! They, as they alwaies liv'd like beasts below, Would gladly now that they were beasts indeed: To scape the Hell whose horrours then are seene, Who wish their being never to have beene.
When looking backe how traines of treach'rous houres
(As mines) at unawares had blowne up all,
And blasted oft (ere ripe) fraile pleasure's flowres,
Whose time hath beene so short, whose joy so small;
They wonder now how they could spend their
pow'rs,
In gayning toyes to such a tyrant thrall,
Which hath them made that happinesse to misse,
Where still eternity abounds in blisse.
All longing mindes for what they much require,
The time appointed, when they doe attend,
Doe wish the space betweene should straight expire,
And so the light to have some other end;
By giving way to man's infirme desire,
His course contract'd few moments thus would spend:
And thus to gaine some flying fortunes soone,
His life by what he wish'd would be undone.
The loving youth whose brest with thoughts doth burne,
Would lose whole yeares to have one night's delight;
The merchant waiting for his shippe's returne,
Not onely dayes, but winds as slow doth cite;
The greedy usurer, so to serve his turne,
What horrid clamour sounds the last retreat.
"Twixt parents, brethren, sisters, kindred, friends,
And all those bands which mortals held most deare;
The naturall love (worne out of date) quite ends,
Eternally whil'st separated here;
That strict regard which tender passion bends,
None of the godly now can make draw neere
To any one of those whom damn'd they see,
Though ty'd by nature in the first degree.
The bed's deare partners here, each fortune's mate,
Who once (heart's joy) sunke in the bosome slept;
Some dandled children, doted on of late,
Whom with such care too tender parents kept;
Companions earst who swayd the minde's conceit,
All now are left, and they no teare have wept:
Who praise God's judgement which this parting
wrought:
His love hath swallow'd up each other thought.
But by this meanes the reprobate are mov'd,
To apprehend their misery the more,
Whil'st forc'd to leave them whom so much they
lov'd,
Who having seen their happinesse before,
And having heard their losse by them approv'd,
Who once had wish'd them well, but then abhor:
This grieves their soule, till they for anguish groane,
And though to Hell, are earnest to be gone.
Whil'st stormy conscience holds invective bookes,
That th' inward sight can onely reade of ire,
O! how doe heavy eyes with lingring lookes,
From world's last prospects languishing retire?
A windy cloud of sighes, each mouth forth smokes,
As burning, even ere entring in the fire:
(Save termes for payment) all dayes else would They are not blinde, yet better so to be,
Since these for pleasure lavish are of life, What would they doe, whose miseries are rife?
But whil'st too late, the wicked count their dayes,
Which (ere they wakened) vanish like a dreame,
(So to remove the meanes of all delayes)
Their sentence given, an angell doth proclaime,
Since Heaven, nor Earth, they never more shall see.
The raging fiends all girt with foaming snakes,
Doe haste them downe together with their charge,
Whereas no porter any hindrance makes,
They passe Hell's deeps, attending on no barge;
This thronging troup at dreadfull earth-quakes
quakes,
The which with feare each count'uance quite dis-Whil'st gaping gulphes doe make an entry large:
And they in darkenesse haste to hide their shame :
All looking backe as loth to leave the light, Are at an instant swallow'd out of sight.
THE GREAT DAY OF THE LORD'S IVDGEMENT.
Of dolefull Hell the horrid seat is sought, Whereas the damned howling still remaine: And in the world as wickedly they wrought, Must suffer what Christ's justice doth ordaine; The sensuall creatures' senses here are brought,
Want would but grieve where feeling will torment, The minde with wormes, with wounds the body rent.
The sentenc'd squadron must retyre alone,
In dungeons darke eternally to smart,
Where they still bounded heavily must grone,
Whil'st not one moment can repose impart;
Christ said to them, when damn'd: "Go, get you
To dwell with devils in their appointed part;
And sacred writs most clearly do declare,
That from the godly they divided are."
But curiousnesse no satisfaction gets,
When searching out the mysteries of Hell;
At least no where it with assurance sets,
But ghosts to paine from pleasure doth expell;
And with the rest who fall in fancie's nets,
No wonder though I doubt their state to tell :
By what once pleas'd, now to be rack'd with paine: For that to others which these lines would show,
And with the devils whereas they are to stay, The wicked are tormented every way.
WHIS'ST wandring now where I can finde no light,
Of guests below the damned state to mark,
No raving Ethnick can direct me right,
Whose selfe is captive in the dungeon's darke;
Yet, all Hell's horrours can me not affright,
Though serpents hisse, and Cerberus do barke ;
But lest I stagger, and be still in doubt,
I must go seek some guide to leade me out.
Deare Saviour, thou who thence my soule to quite
Exposed wast a prey to paine and scorne,
Whil'st beaten, mock'd, and spitted at in spite,
Made vinegar to drink, and crown'd with thorne ;
Then sweating bloud, encrimson'd beautie's white,
Till all Hell's horrours constantly were borne;
Thou, onely thou, canst this discovery make;
Who forc'd her forts, and turn'd in triumph backe.
O Sonne of God, be thou my guide, and cleare
The cloudy cloisters of Tartarian deeps,
That (drawn from darknesse) plainly may appeare,
From what strange torments thine thy suffring
keepes,
Who (marking this afarre) may not come neare, Where teeth shall gnash, where th' eye for ever weeps;
But trust in thee, and flie sinne's tempting snare,
Not too secure, nor falling in despaire.
That place for paine so fearfull to the minde,
That dreames of it have desperation wrought,
Hath beene by some (to search such deeps inclin'd)
No locall ground, but a privation thought:
From God secluded, yet no where confin'd,
As damned souls were to some freedome brought:
No paine impos'd, but to be barr'd God's sight,
Hell so made darke, as Sunne's remove breeds
night.
Not onely wretches banish'd from God's face,
In endlesse anguish languishing remaine,
Whil'st apprehending in that dreadfull place,
How saints above with God in glory raigne;
But they must have with horrour, griefe, disgrace,
As want of pleasure, so a sense of paine :
I labour that my selfe may never know.
It may be plac't amidst the fierie spheare,
Whence joyn'd with lightning dreadfull thunders flie,
Whil'st frowning Heavens by day night's colours
reare;
Till scarce some flashes can point out the skie;
So that as Hell inflicting harme and feare,
By thunder-bolts, and haile, troups tortur'd lye:
Thus in effect, affinity they hold
By light, and darknesse, horrour, heat, and cold.
That cloudy clymate (hatching stormes when faire)
May still foule spirits where first they fell restraine,
And wretched soules to have with them their share,
Of substance light, (though stayn'd) may mount
againe ;
Since Sathan hath beene held lord of the ayre,
He last may smart where he so long doth raigne :
And though suppos'd a parable to be,
Why might not Abraham there the glutton see?
If God thus hang that monstrous masse of night,
In which to pine the tortur'd bands are throwne,
The hoasts of Heaven importing virtuall light,
May pierce Hell's clouds, till all their guests be
knowne,
With mutuall prospects, interchanging sight,
By other's states that both may judge their owne:
"What is oppos'd, compar'd, brings truth to light:
When set with shadowes,stars doe shine more bright."
O how the godly triumph would with joy!
Whil'st compassing that damned band about,
To see the fiends their furies all imploy,
Till ghosts with dreadfull cryes confus'dly shout;
They with no sigh their pittied plaints convoy,
Though earst knowne friends, all kindenesse then
But straight shall praise (transported from the place) In them God's justice, in themselves his grace.
A place below the chiefe of northerne starres,
To fit the Hell a situation yeelds,
Which passengers from passing further barres,
By desolate and melancholy fields,
And navigation absolutely marres,
Whil'st there from harme no kinde of shelter shields:
Not that the ocean doth too stormy prove,
No, but because that it can no way move.
The liquid kingdome all becoming dry,
Farre distant shores (as if cimented) meet,
The waves all dead entom'd in crystall lye,
Not having power to drowne, no, not to weet,
Whil'st barren beauty doth delude the eye,
And slippery firmenesse doth betray the feet,
Which both on flouds and solid grounds they set,
- And yet can neither earth nor water get.
Amidst that large inhabitable zone,
Where raging winter doth admit no bounds,
Perchance (for terrour) the Tartarian throne,
With strengthlesse beames the flying Sunne sur-
And (as if thousands multipli'd a grone) [rounds,
There sulph'rous Vulcan's roare continuall sounds:
Whil'st ghosts do never sleep, yet alwaies dreame,
Rack'd by remorse with griefe, past sense of shame.
But that great God on whom this all depends,
And (as he pleaseth) quickly fades or springs,
Even with a thought can compasse all his ends,
Not daigning to take helpe of temporall things,
And yet to worke what ever he intends,
- Each creature straight a contribution brings:
He in new moulds can cast the world againe,
Make beauty ugly, what gave joy, give paine.
Earst Adam's Eden, pleasure's speciall ground,
World's quint-essence, the garden of the Lord,
The pretious stone of this enamel'd round,
Which God did guard as with his treasures stor❜d,
It now turn'd common earth (by flouds since drown'd)
Of what it was no token doth afford:
That dainty vale which curious Lot did chuse,
Did soone grow loathsome, all the world's refuse.
Those parts below which most delight the eye,
As pleasant, fertile, crown'd with flowres, or streames,
Where nature doth with many colours dye
Her curious robes, all bright with glistring beames,
Some there at last may greater torments try,
Then Sathan can devise, or mankinde dreames:
And it would stand with justice in these times
That all should suffer where they wrought their
But th’Earth oreburden'd, must to sinne give place,
If so commanded by the world's great Iudge,
Loe, how we all who fondly love her face,
Must at the last within her bosome lodge! [race,
But them she swallow'd quicke, though Abraham's
Who tempting God against his will did grudge:
All sinnes engross'd in one, what monstrous weight
May soone sinke thousands to the centre straight!
Who knowes but th' Earth, which still men wastes or feeds,
Hath vast concavities where darknesse blinds,
And that from it the secret cause proceeds
Of dreadfull earth-quakes, and of restlesse winds,
Which, schismes in schooles, no satisfaction breeds,
The deepe's deepe mystery none clearly finds :
Whilst bent to study who doth thousands teach,
Seas compast him who could their course not reach.
The fertile Earth for that infernall seate
May furnish stuffe to feede the flames apace,
For, as without, Sunne's active beames do beat,
Till plentie's horne doth garnish every place;
So it would seeme, within, some vigorous heate
Of metalls strong doth breed the rockie race:
Th'Earth must have fire, of which, to serve our turne, Both superficiall parts and entrails burne.
Vaine Pagans did in every fancy fixe,
That stygian darkenesse diverse floods did bound,
And all their gods did sweare by dreadfull Styx,
That straight their oath in Lethe might be drown'd;
These waters with so many things did mixe,
Ere they could reach the centre of the ground,
That stain'd and poison'd whilst estrang'd from th'
aier,
They filthy were (no doubt) when once come there.
Since (by conjectures with much travell sought)
This fearefull place none can precisely know,
Then bywhat meanes from darknesse can be brought,
Those mysteries which some dare seeke to show?
The roome indeed may justly large be thought,
Where all the wicked should be lodg❜d below:
Though to their cliants devils do much reveale,
Yet they for frighting them Hell's state conceale.
They (as great pleasures) painting out their paines,
By foolish fables please vaine vulgars much,
With gorgeous gardens, and elysian plaines,
Which (like themselves) cannot abide the touch;
Then will they seeme (this reputation gaines)
Fawnes, Silvans, Satyres, Faries, Nymphes, and such:
That fooles may hope to be (whilst spoil'd of sense)
Gods, demi-gods, and heroes, when gone hence.
What then confusion doth more mischiefe bring,
As oft hath beene made knowne in every age?
And it in Hell would seeme a needefull thing,
To torture them who there beare Satan's badge,
From which in darknesse, grosse effects must spring,
Where desp❜rat troupes (past hope of helpe) doe rage;
Yet even in it some order shall be found,
Though Chaos darkning, Babel to confound.
The world may thinke, amidst that damned crue,
Though (as elsewhere) distinguish'd in degree,
Each one doth reape that which to him is due;
When law below a party doth pursue,
Their paines may differ, yet their griefe agree;
As crimes require, the judges do decree:
Since God on Earth so many plagues doth send,
How huge be these which Hell's blacke hostes attend?
This crystall spheare, the lanterne of the sight,
A generall spie that every thing doth marke,
I doubt, if drawing, or dispersing light,
Of all man's body the most heavenly sparke,
The life of beauty, nature's glories height,
Which straight (when clos'd) makes all the world
seme dark,
It of chiefe pleasures doth the centre prove,
Both from the Earth below, and Heaven aboue.
Those sunnes of sences, mirrours of the minde,
The windows of the heart till light doth faile,
How bodies may be glorifi'd we find,
Since their perfection doth so much prevaile;
These dainty lights which have so sweetely shin'd,
Though cleere like diamonds, like crystall fraile,
While as abus'd by them that were unjust,
Did turne to starres of pride and flames of lust.
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