O NATURE, carefull mother of vs all, | |
How canst thou liue to see thy God thus die? | |
To heare his paints, thus, thus for pittie call, | |
And yet to find no grace in pitties eie! | |
Thy frame, deere Nature, should be quite dissolud, | 5 |
Or thy whole powers into teares resolud. | |
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His anguish hauing this in silence said, | |
See now how he sore labours for the last: | |
The last deneere of sinnes debt being defraid, | |
It now remains that Death the reckning cast: | 10 |
But heauy Death, because the summe is great, | |
Takes yet some longer time to doe the feat. | |
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But now, my soule, here let vs make a station, | |
To view perspicuously this sad aspect: | |
And through the Jacobs staffe of Christ his passion | 15 |
Lets spie with our right eie his paines effect: | |
That in the labrinth of his languishment | |
We may, though lost therein, find solagement. | |
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The mind, still crost with heart-tormenting crosses, | |
Here finds a crosse to keepe such crosses out: | 20 |
Here may the loser find more than his losses, | |
If Faith beleeue what here Faith cannot doubt: | |
For all his wounds with voice vociferant | |
Crie out they can more than supply each want. | |
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This holy crosse is the true Tutament, | 25 |
Protecting all ensheltered by the same; | |
And though Disasters face be truculent, | |
Yet will this engine set it fair in frame: | |
This is the feeble soules nere-failing crouch, | |
And grieued bodies hard but wholesomst couch. | 30 |
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Looke on this crosse, when thou art stung with care; | |
It cures forthwith like Moises metld snake: | |
What can afflict thee when thy passions are | |
Patternd by his, that paines perfections make? | |
Wilt be so God-vnlike, to see thy God | 35 |
Embrace the whip, and thou abhorre the rod? | |
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See, see, the more than all soule-slaying paines, | |
Which more than all for thee and all he proud: | |
What man, except a God he be, sustaines | |
Such hels of paine for man with mind unmoud? | 40 |
What part, as erst was said, of all his parts, | |
But torturd is with smarts, exceeding smarts? | |
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His vaines and nerues, that channelize his blood, | |
By violent conuulsions all contracted; | |
His bones and ioynts, from whence they whilome stood, | 45 |
With rackings quite disloked and distracted: | |
His head, hands, feet, yea, all from top to toe, | |
Make but the imperfect corpse of perfect woe. | |
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O that mine head were head of seaunfold Nyle, | |
That from the same might flowe great floods of teares, | 50 |
Therein to bathe his bloodlesse body, while | |
His blood effuzd, in sight confuzd appeares! | |
Then should my teares egelidate his gore, | |
That from his blood founts for me flowd before. | |
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O burning loue! O large and lasting loue! | 55 |
What angels tongue thy limits can describe? | |
That dost extend thyself all loue aboue, | |
For which all praise loue ought to thee ascribe: | |
Sith skarce the tongue of Gods humanitie | |
Can well describe this boundlesse charitie. | 60 |
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Why do I liue? alas, why do I liue? | |
Why is not my heart loue-sicke to the death? | |
But shall I liue my louing Lord to grieue? | |
O no! O rather let me lose my breath: | |
Then take me to thee, Loue; O let me die, | 65 |
Onely but for thy loue, and sinne to flie. | |
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Stay me with flagons; with fruit comfort me; | |
Now I am sicke, heart-sicke of sweetest loue: | |
Then let me liue, sweet Loue, alone in thee, | |
For loue desires in that Beloud to moue: | 70 |
I liue and moue in thee, but yet, O yet, | |
I liue to mone; that is, to make thee fret. * * * * * * | |
O let the summe of all be all, and some, | |
Comprised in thy heaun-surmounting praise: | |
Thou wast, and art, and shalt be aye to come, | 75 |
The subiect of thy subiects thankfull laies; | |
Who with aduanced voice doe carroll forth | |
The praise of thine inestimable worth. | |
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And sith thy soule for me is so conflicted, | |
My soule to thee in griefes shall be affected: | 80 |
And, for thy flesh through loue is so afflicted, | |
My flesh for thy high loue shall be deiected: | |
Soule, flesh, and spirit, for thy spirit, flesh, and soule, | |
Shall longing pine in flesh-repining dole. | |
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Mine onely schoole shall be mount Caluerie; | 85 |
The pulpit but the crosse; and teacher none, | |
But the mere crucifixe to mortifie; | |
No letters but thy blessed wounds alone: | |
No commaes but thy stripes; no periods | |
But thy nailes, crowne of thornes, speare, whips, and rods. | 90 |
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None other booke but thy vnclasped side, | |
Whereins containd all skils angelical: | |
None other lesson but Christ crucified | |
Will I ere learne; for that is all in all: | |
Wherein selfe curiositie may find | 95 |
Matter to please the most displeased mind. | |
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Here, by our Masters nakednesse, we learne | |
What weeds to weare; by his thorne-crowned head, | |
How to adorn vs; and we may discerne | |
By his most bitter gall, how to be fed: | 100 |
How to reuenge, by praying for his foes; | |
And, lying on his crosse, how to repose. | |
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For when we read him ouer, see we shall | |
His head with thornes, his eares with blasphemies, | |
His eies with teares, his honnied mouth with gall, | 105 |
With wounds his flesh, his bones with agonies, | |
All full: and yet with all to heare him say, | |
So man might liue, he would thus languish aye! | |
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