Who made thy name so truly be implor'd, And by the reverend soul so long ador'd, Her banish'd now see from these lower bounds; Behold her garments' shreds, her body's wounds: Look how her sister Charity there stands, Proscrib'd on Earth, all maim'd by wicked hands: Mischief there mounts to such an high degree, That there now none is left that cares for me. There dwells idolatry, there atheism reigns; There man in dumb, yet roaring, sins him stains; So foolish, that he puppets will adore Of metal, stone, and birds, beasts, trees, before He once will to thy holy service bow, And yield thee homage. Ah, alas! yet now To those black sp'rits which thou dost keep in chains He vows obedience, and with shameful pains Infernal horrours courts; case fond and strange! To bane than bliss desiring more the change. Thy Charity, of graces once the chief Did long time find in hospitals relief; Which now lie levell'd with the lowest ground, Where sad memorials scarce are of them found. Then (vagabonding) temples her receiv'd, Where my poor cells afforded what she crav'd; But now thy temples raz'd are, human blood Those places stains, late where thy altars stood: Times are so horrid, to implore thy name That it is held now on the Earth a blame. Now doth the warrior, with his dart and sword, Write laws in blood, and vent them for thy word: Religion, faith pretending to make known, All have, all faith, religion quite o'erthrown! Men awless, lawless live; most woful case! Men no more men, a God-contemning race." Scarce had she said, when, from the nether world (Like to a lightning through the welkin hurl'd, That scores with flames the way, and every eye With terrour dazzles as it swimmeth by) Came Justice; to whom angels did make place, And Truth her flying footsteps straight did trace. Her sword was lost, the precious weights she bare Their beam had torn, scales rudely bruised were: From off her head was reft her golden crown; In rags her veil was rent, and star-spangl'd gown; Her tear-wet locks hang'd o'er her face, which made Between her and the Mighty King a shade; Just wrath bad rais'd her colour, (like the morn Portending clouds moist embryos to be born) Of which, she taking leave, with heart swoll'n great, Thus strove to 'plain before the throne of state. "Is not the Earth thy workmanship, great King? Didst thou not all this all from nought once bring To this rich beauty, which doth on it shine; Bestowing on each creature of thine Some shadow of thy bounty? Is not man Thy vassal, plac'd to spend his life's short span To do thee homage? And then didst not thou A queen install me there, to whom should bow Thy Earth's indwellers, and to this effect Put in my hand thy sword? O high neglect! Now wretched earthlings, to thy great disgrace, Perverted have my pow'r, and do deface All reverent tracts of justice; now the Earth Is but a frame of shame, a funeral hearth, Where every virtue hath consumed been, And nought (no, not their dust) rests to be seen: Long hath it me abhorr'd, long chased me; Expell'd at last, here I have fled to thee, And forthwith rather would to Hell repair, Than Earth, since justice execute is there.

All live on Earth by spoil, the host his guest
Betrays; the man of her lies in his breast
Is not assur'd; the son the father's death
Attempts; and kindred kindred reave of breath
By lurking means, of such age few makes sick,
Since Hell disgorg'd her baneful arsenic.
Whom murders, foal assassinates defile,
Most who the harmless innocents beguile,
Who most can ravage, rob, ransack, blaspheme,
Is held most virtuous, bath a worthy's name;
So on embolden'd malice they rely,

That, madding, thy great puissance they defy:
Erst man resembled thy portrait, soil'd by smoke
Now like thy creature hardly doth he look.
Old Nature here (she pointed where there stood
An aged lady in a heavy mood).

Doth break her staff, denying human race
To come of her, things born to her disgrace!
The dove the dove, the swan doth love the swan;
Nought so relentless unto man as man.
O! if thou mad'st this world, govern'st it all,
Deserved vengeance on the Earth let fall:
The period of her standing perfect is;
Her hour-glass not a minute short doth miss.
The end, O Lord, is come; then let no more
Mischief still triumph, bad the good devour;
But of thy word since constant, true thou art,
Give good their guerdon, wicked due desert."

She said: throughout the shining palace went
A murmur soft, such as afar is sent
By musked zephyrs' sighs along the main;
Or when they curl some flow'ry lee and plain :
One was their thought, one their intention, will;
Nor could they err, Truth there residing still:
All, mov'd with zeal, as one with cries did pray,
"Hasten, O Lord! O hasten the last day!"

Look how a generous prince, when he doth hear
Some loving city, and to him most dear,
Which wont with gifts and shows him entertain
(And, as a father's, did obey his reign,)
A rout of slaves and rascal foes to wrack,
Her buildings overthrow, her riches sack,
Feels vengeful flames within his bosom burn,
'And a just rage all respects overturn:
So seeing Earth, of angels once the inn,
Mansions of saints, deflower'd all by sin,
And quite confus'd, by wretches here beneath,
The world's great Sovereign moved was to wrath.
Thrice did he rouse himself, thrice from his face
Flames sparkle did throughout the heavenly place.
The stars, though fixed, in their rounds did quake;
The Earth, and earth-embracing sea, did shake:
Carmel and Hamus felt it; Athos' tops
Affrighted shrunk; and near the Ethiops,
Atlas, the Pyrenees, the Apennine,
And lofty Grampius, which with snow doth shine.
Then to the synod of the sp'rits he swore,
Man's care should end, and time should be no more,
By his own self he swore of perfect worth,
Straight to perform his word sent angels forth.

There lies an island, where the radiant Sun, When he doth to the northern tropics run, Of six long moneths makes one tedious day; And when through southern signs he holds his way, Six moneths turneth in one loathsome night, (Night neither here is fair, nor day hot-bright, But half white, and half more) where, sadly clear, Still coldly glance the beams of either BearThe frosty Groen-land. On the lonely shore The ocean in mountains hoarse doth roar,

And over-tumbling, tumbling over rocks,
Cast various rainbows, which in froth he chokes:
Gulphs all about are shrunk most strangely steep,
Than Nilus' cataracts more vast and deep.
To the wild land beneath to make a shade,
A mountain lifteth up his crested head:
His locks are icicles, his brows are snow;
Yet from his burning bowels deep below,
Comets, far-flaming pyramids, are driven,
And pitchy meteors, to the cope of Heaven.
No summer here the lovely grass forth brings,
Nor trees, no, not the deadly cypress springs.
Cave-loving Echo, daughter of the air,
By human voice was never waken'd here:
Instead of night's black bird, and plaintful owl,
Infernal furies here do yell and howl.
A mouth yawns in this height so black, obscure
With vapours, that no eye it can endure:
Great Etna's caverns never yet did make
Such sable damps, though they be hideous black;
Stern horrours here eternally do dwell,
And this gulf destine for a gate to Hell:
Forth from this place of dread, Earth to appal,
Three furies rushed at the angel's call.
One with long tresses doth her visage mask,
Her temples clouding in a horrid cask;
Her right hand swings a brandon in the air,
Which flames and terrour hurleth every where;
Pond'rous with darts, her left doth bear a shield,
Where Gorgon's head looks grim in sable field:
Her eyes blaze fire and blood, each hair 'stills blood,
Blood thrills from either pap, and where she stood
Blood's liquid coral sprang her feet beneath;
Where she doth stretch her arm is blood and death.
Her Stygian head no sooner she uprears,
When Earth of swords,helms, lauces,straight appears
To be deliver'd; and from out her womb,
In flame-wing'd thunders, artillery doth come;
Floods' silver streams do take a blushing dye;
The plains with breathless bodies buried lie;
Rage, wrong, rape, sacrilege, do her attend,
Fear, discord, wrack, and woes which have no end:
Town is by town, and prince by prince withstood;
Earth turns an hideous shamble, a lake of blood.

The next, with eyes sunk hollow in her brains,
Lean face, snarl'd hair, with black and empty veins,
Her dry'd-up bones scarce cover'd with her skin,
Bewraying that strange structure built within;
Thigh-bellyless, most ghastly to the sight,
A wasted skeleton resembleth right.
Where she doth roam in air faint do the birds,
Yawn do earth's ruthless brood and harmless herds,
The wood's wild forragers do howl and roar,
The humid swimmers die along the shore:
In towns, the living do the dead up eat,
Then die themselves, alas! and, wanting meat,
Mothers not spare the birth of their own wombs,
But turn those nests of life to fatal tombs.

Last did a saffron-colour'd hag come out, With uncomb'd hair, brows banded all about With dusky clouds, in ragged mantle clad, Her breath with stinking fumes the air bespread ; In either hand she held a whip, whose wires Still'd poison, blaz'd with Phlegethontal fires. Relentless, she each state, sex, age, defiles, Earth streams with gores, burns with envenom'd boils; Where she repairs, towns do in deserts turn, The living have no pause the dead to mourn; The friend, ah! dares not lock the dying eyes Of his belov'd; the wife the husband flies;

Men basilisks to men prove, and by breath,
Than lead or steel, bring worse and swifter death:
No cypress, obsequies, no tomb they have ;
The sad Heaven mostly serves them for a grave.
These over Earth tumultuously do run,
South, north, from rising to the setting Sun;
They sometime part, yet, than the winds more fleet,
Forthwith together in one place they meet.
Great Quinzay, ye it know, Susania's pride,
And you where stately Tiber's streains do glide;
Memphis, Parthenope, ye too it know,
And where Euripus' seven-fold tide doth flow:
Ye know it, empresses, on Thames, Rhone, Seine;
And ye, fair queens, by Tagus, Danube, Rhine;
Though they do scour the Earth, roam far and large,
Not thus content, the angels leave their charge:
We of her wreck these slender signs may name,
By greater they the judgment do proclaim.

This centre's centre with a mighty blow
One bruiseth, whose crack'd concaves louder low,
And rumble, than if all th' artillery

On Earth discharg'd at once were in the sky;
Her surface shakes, her mountains in the mais
Turn topsy-turvy, of heights making plain:
Towns them ingulf; and late where towers did stand
Now nought remaineth but a waste of sand:
With turning eddies seas sink under ground,
And in their floating depth are valleys found;
Late where with foamy crests waves tilted waves,
Now fishy bottoms shine, and mossy caves.
The mariner casts an amazed eye
On his wing'd firs, which bedded he finds lie,
Yet can he see no shore; but whilst be thinks,
What hideous crevice that huge current drinks,
The streams rush back again with storming tide,
And now his ships on crystal mountains glide,
Till they be hurl'd far beyond seas and hope,
And settle on some hill or palace top;
Or, by triumphant surges over-driven,
Show Earth their entrails, and their keels the Heaven,
Sky's cloudy tables some do paint, with fights
Of armed squadrons, justling steeds and knights,
With shining crosses, judge, and sapphire throne,
Arraigned criminals to howl and groan, [shine
And plaints sent forth are heard: new worlds seen
With other suns and moons, false stars decline,
And dive in seas; red comets warm the air,
And blaze, as other worlds were judged there.
Others the heavenly bodies do displace,
Make Sun his sister's stranger steps to trace;
Beyond the course of spheres he drives his coach,
And near the cold Arcturus doth approach;
The Scythian amaz'd is at such beams,
The Mauritanian to see icy streams;
The shadow, which erewhile turn'd to the west,
Now wheels about, then reeleth to the east:
New stars above the eighth Heaven sparkle clear,
Mars chops with Saturn, Jove claims Mars's sphere;
Shrunk nearer Earth, all blacken'd now and brown,
In mask of weeping clouds appears the Moon.
There are no seasons, autumn, summer, spring,
All are stern winter, and no birth forth bring:
Red turns the sky's blue curtain o'er this globe,
As to propine the judge with purple robe.

At first, entranc'd, with sad and curious eyes,
Earth's pilgrims stare on those strange prodigies:
The star-gazer this round finds truly move
In parts and whole, yet by no skill can prove
The firmament's stay'd firmness. They which dream
An everlastingness in world's vast frame,

Think well some region where they dwell may wrack,
But that the whole nor time nor force can shake;
Yet, frantic, muse to see Heaven's stately lights,
Like drunkards, wayless reel amidst their heights.
Such as do uations govern, and command
Vasts of the sea and emperies of land,
Repine to see their countries overthrown,
And find no foe their fury to make known:
"Alas!" they say, "what boots our toils and pains,
Of care on Earth is this the furthest gains?
No riches now can bribe our angry fate;

O no! to blast our pride the Heavens do threat:
In dust now must our greatness buried lie,
Yet is it comfort with the world to die."
As more and more the warning signs increase,
Wild dread deprives lost Adam's race of peace;
From out their grand-dame Earth theyfain would fly,
But whither know not, Heavens are far and high:
Each would bewail and mourn his own distress;
But public cries do private tears suppress:
Laments, plaints, shrieks of woe, disturb all ears,
And fear is equal to the pain it fears.

Amidst this mass of cruelty and slights,
This galley, full of God-despising wights,
This jail of sin and shame, this filthy stage,
Where all act folly, misery, and rage;
Amidst those throngs of old prepar'd for Hell,
Those numbers which no Archimede can tell,
A silly crew did lurk, a barmless rout,
Wand'ring the Earth, which God had chosen out
To live with him, (few roses which did blow
Among those weeds Earth's garden overgrow,
A dew of gold still'd on earth's sandy mine,
Small diamonds in world's rough rocks which shine,)
By purple tyrants which pursu'd and chas'd,
Liv'd recluses, in lonely islands plac'd;

Or did the mountains haunt, and forests wild, [mild;
Which they than towns more harmless found and
Where many an hymn they, to their Maker's praise,
Teach'd groves and rooks, which did resound their
lays.

Nor sword, nor famine, nor plague poisoning air,
Nor prodigies appearing every where,
Nor all the sad disorder of this all,
Could this small handful of the world appal;
But as the flow'r, which during winter's cold
Runs to the root, and lurks in sap uproll'd,
So soon as the great planet of the year
Begins the Twins' dear mansion to clear,
Lifts up its fragrant head, and to the field
A spring of beauty and delight doth yield:
So at those signs and apparitions strange,
Their thoughts, looks, gestures, did begin to change;
Joy makes their hands to clap, their hearts to dance,
In voice turns music, in their eyes doth glance.
"What can,"saythey, "these changes else portend,
Of this great frame, save the approaching end!
Past are the signs, all is perform'd of old,
Which the Almighty's heralds us foretold.
Heaven now no longer shall of God's great power
A turning temple be, but fixed tower;
Burn shall this mortal mass amidst the air,
Of divine justice turn'd a trophy fair;
Near is the last of days, whose light embalms
Past griefs, and all our stormy cares becalms.
O happy day! O cheerful, holy day!
Which night's sad sables shall not take away!
Farewel complaints, and ye yet doubtful thought
Crown now your hopes with comforts long time
sought;

VOL. V.

Wip'd from our eyes now shall be every tear,
Sighs stopt, since our salvation is so near.
What long we long'd for, God at last hath given,
Earth's chosen bands to join with those of Heaven.
Now noble souls a guerdon just shall find,
And rest and glory be in one combin'd;
Now, more than in a mirror, by these eyne,
Even face to face, our Maker shall be seen.
O welcome wonder of the soul and sight!
O welcome object of all true delight!
Thy triumphs and return we did expect,
Of all past toils to reap the dear effect:
Since thou art just, perform thy boly word;
O come still hop'd for, come long wish'd for, Lord.
While thus they pray, the Heavens in flames ap'
As if they shew fire's elemental sphere; [pear.
The Earth seems in the Sun, the welkin gone;
Wonder all hushes; straight the air doth groan
With trumpets, which thrice louder sounds do yield
Than deaf'ning thunders in the airy field.
Created nature at the clangour quakes;
Immur'd with flames, Earth in a palsy shakes,
And from her womb the dust in several heaps
Takes life, and must'reth into human shapes:
Hell bursts, and the foul prisoners there bound
Come howling to the day, with serpents crown'd.
Millions of angels in the lofty height,
Clad in pure gold, and the electre bright,
Ushering the way still where the Judge should move,
In radiant rainbows vault the skies above;
Which quickly open, like a curtain driven,
And beaming glory shows the King of Heaven.

What Persian prince, Assyrian most renown'd,
What Scythian with conquering squadrons crown'd,
Ent'ring a breached city, where conspire
Fire to dry blood, and blood to quench out fire;
Where cutted carcasses' quick members recl,
And by their ruin blunt the reeking steel,
Resembleth now the ever-living King?
What face of Troy which doth with yelling ring,
And Grecian flames transported in the air;
What dreadful spectacle of Carthage fair;
What picture of rich Corinth's tragic wrack,
Or of Numantia the hideous sack;
Or these together shown, the image, face,
Can represent of Earth, and plaintful case,
Which must lie smoking in the world's vast womb,
And to itself both fuel be and tomb?

Near to that sweet and odoriferous clime, Where the all-cheering emperor of time Makes spring the cassia, nard, and fragrant balms, And every hill and collin crowns with palms; Where incense sweats, where weeps the precious And cedars overtop the pine and fir: [myrrh, Near where the aged phenix, tir'd of breath, Doth build her nest, and takes new life in death; A valley into wide and open fields Far it extendeth ****** The rest is wanting.

HYMNS. I.

SAVIOUR of mankind! Man Emanuel!
Who sinless died for sin, who vanquish'd Hell,
The first fruits of the grave, whose life did give
Light to our darkness, in whose death we live
O strengthen thou my faith, correct my will,
That mine may thine obey: protect me still,

Z z

HIM, whom the earth, the sea, and sky
Worship, adore, and magnify,
And doth this threefold engine steer,
Mary's pure closet now doth bear:

Whom Sun and Moon, and creatures all,
Serving at times, obey his call,
Pouring from Heaven his sacred grace,
I' th' virgin's bowels hath ta'en place.

Mother most blest by such a dower,
Whose Maker, Lord of highest power,
Who this wide world in hand contains,
In thy womb's ark himself restrains.

Blest by a message from Heaven brought,
Fertile with Holy Ghost full fraught,
Of nations the desired King,
Within thy sacred womb doth spring.

Lord, may thy glory still endure,
Who born wast of a virgin pure;
The Father's and the Sp'rit's love,
Which endless worlds may not remove.

Who for the state of mankind griev'd,

That it by death destroy'd should be, Hast the diseased world reliev'd,

And given the guilty remedy.

When th' evening of the world drew near,
Thou as a bridegroom deign'st to come
Out of the wedding chamber dear,

Thy virgin mother's purest womb:

To the strong force of whose high reign
All knees are bow'd with gesture low,
Creatures which Heav'n on Earth contain
With rev'rence their subjection show.

O holy Lord! we thee desire,
Whom we expect to judge all faults,
Preserve us, as the times require,
From our deceitful foes' assaults.

Praise, honour, strength, and glory great,
To God the Father, and the Son,
And to the holy Paraclete,

Whilst time lasts, and when time is done.

HYMN FOR SUNDAY.

O BLEST Creator of the light,
Who bringing forth the light of days,
With the first work of splendour bright
The world didst to beginning raise;

Who morn with evening join'd in one
Commandedst should be call'd the day:
The foul confusion now is gone;

O hear us when with tears we pray :

Lest that the mind, with fears full fraught,
Should lose best life's eternal gains,
While it hath no immortal thought,
But is enwrapt in sinful chains.

O may it beat the inmost sky,
And the reward of life possess !
May we from hurtful actions fly,
And purge away all wickedness!
Dear Father, grant what we entreat,
And only Son, who like pow'r hast,
Together with the Paraclete,

Reigning whilst times and ages last.

HYMN FOR MONDAY.

GREAT Maker of the Heavens wide,
Who, lest things mix'd should all confound,
The floods and waters didst divide,

And didst appoint the Heav'ns their bound; Ordering where heav'nly things shall stay,

Where streams shall run on earthly soil, That waters may the flames allay, Lest they the globe of Earth should spoil. Sweet Lord, into our minds infuse The gift of everlasting grace, That no old faults which we did use May with new frauds our souls deface.

May our true faith obtain the light,

And such clear beams our hearts possess, That it vain things may banish quite, And that no falsehood it oppress. Dear Father, grant what we entreat, &c.

That sin no soul opprest may thrall,

That none be lifted high with pride, That minds cast downwards do not fall, Nor raised up may backward slide. Dear Father, &c.

HYMN FOR TUESDAY.

GREAT Maker of man's earthly realm, Who didst the ground from waters take Which did the troubled land o'erwhelm,

And it immovable didst make;

That there young plants might fitly spring, While it with golden flow'rs attir'd Might forth ripe fruit in plenty bring,

And yield sweet fruit by all desir'd:

With fragrant greenness of thy grace,

Our blasted souls of wounds release, That tears foul sins away may chase, And in the mind bad motions cease.

May it obey thy heav'nly voice,

And never drawing near to ill, T' abound in goodness may rejoice, And may no mortal sin fulfil. Dear Father, &c.

HYMN FOR FRIDAY.

GOD, from whose work mankind did spring,
Who all in rule dost only keep
Bidding the dry land forth to bring

All kind of beasts which on it creep;

Who hast made subject to man's hand
Great bodies of each mighty thing,
That, taking life from thy command,
They might in order serve their King;
From us thy servants, Lord, expel
Those errours which uncleanness breeds,
Which either in our manners dwell,

Or mix themselves among our deeds.
Give the rewards of joyful life;

The plenteous gifts of grace increase;
Dissolve the cruel bonds of strife;
Knit fast the happy league of peace.
Dear Father, &c.

HYMN FOR WEDNESDAY.

O HOLY God of heav'nly frame,

Who mak'st the pole's wide centre bright, And paint'st the same with shining flame, Adorning it with beauteous light;

Who framing, on the fourth of days,

The fiery chariot of the Sun,
Appoint'st the Moon her changing rays,
And orbs in which the planets run;

That thou might'st by a certain bound
'Twixt night and day division make;
And that some sure sign might be found
To show when months beginning take;

Men's hearts with lightsome splendour bless,
Wipe from their minds polluting spots,
Dissolve the bond of guiltiness,

Throw down the heaps of sinful blots. Dear Father, &c.

HYMN FOR THURSDAY.

O GOD, whose forces far extend,
Who creatures which from waters spring
Back to the flood dost partly send,

And up to th' air dost partly bring;

Some in the waters deeply div'd,

Some playing in the Heav'ns above, That natures from one stock deriv'd May thus to several dwellings move :

Upon thy servants grace bestow,

Whose souls thy bloody waters clear, That they no sinful falls may know, Nor heavy grief of death may bear;

HYMN FOR SATURDAY.

O TRINITY! O blessed light!
O Unity, most principal!
The fiery Sun now leaves our sight;
Cause in our hearts thy beams to fall:

Let us with songs of praise divine

At morn and evening thee implore;
And let our glory, bow'd to thine,
Thee glorify for evermore.

To God the Father glory great,
And glory to his only Son,
And to the holy Paraclete,

Both now, and still while ages run.

HYMN UPON THE NATIVITY.

CHRIST, whose redemption all doth free,
Son of the Father, who alone,

Before the world began to be,

Didst spring from him by means unknown;

Thou his clear brightness, thou his light,
Thou everlasting hope of all,
Observe the pray'rs which in thy sight
Thy servants through the world let fall.

O dearest Saviour, bear in mind,
That of our body thou, a child,
Didst whilom take the natural kind,
Born of the Virgin undefil'd.

This much the present day makes known,
Passing the circuit of the year,
That thou from thy high Father's throne
The world's sole safety didst appear.