(untitled)

IF in the East when you do there behold
Forth from his Christall Bed the Sun to rise,
With rosie Robes and Crowne of flaming Gold;
If gazing on that Empresse of the Skies
That takes so many formes, and those faire Brands
Which blaze in Heavens high Vault, Nights watchful eyes;
If seeing how the Seas tumultuous Bands
Of bellowing Billows have their course confin'd,
How unsustain'd the Earth still stedfast stands;
Poore mortall Wights, you e're found in your Mind
A thought, that some great King did sit above,
Who had such Laws and Rites to them assign'd?
A King who fix'd the Poles, made Spheares to move,
All Wisdome, Purenesse, Excellency, Might,
All Goodnesse, Greatnesse, Justice, Beauty, Love;
With feare and wonder hither turne your Sight,
See, see (alas) him now, not in that State
Thought could fore-cast Him into Reasons light.
Now Eyes with tears, now Hearts with griefe make great,
Bemoane this cruell Death and ruthfull case,
If ever Plaints just Woe could aggravate?
From Sin and Hell to save us humane Race,
See this great King nail'd to an abject Tree,
An object of reproach and sad disgrace.
O unheard Pity! Love in strange degree!
He his own Life doth give, his Bloud doth shed,
For Wormelings base such Worthinesse to see.
Poore Wights, behold his Visage pale as Lead,
His Head bow'd to His Brest, Locks sadly rent,
Like a cropt Rose that languishing doth fade.
Weake Nature weepe, astonish'd World lament,
Lament, you Winds, you Heaven that all containes,
And thou (my Soule) let nought thy Griefes relent.
Those Hands, those sacred Hands which hold the reines
Of this great All, and kept from mutuall wars
The Elements, beare rent for thee their Veines:
Those Feet which once must trade on golden Stars,
For thee with Nails would be pierc'd through and torn,
For thee Heavens King from Heaven himselfe debars:
This great heart-quaking Dolour waile and mourne▪
Yee that long since Him saw by might of Faith,
Ye now that are, and ye yet to be borne.
Not to behold his great Creators Death,
The Sun from sinfull eyes hath vail'd his light,
And faintly journies up Heavens saphyre Path:
And cutting from her Brows her Tresses bright,
The Moone doth keep her Lords sad Obsequ…es,
Impearling with her Teares her Robe of Night.
All staggering and lazie lowre the Skies,
The Earth and elementall Stages quake,
The long-since dead from bursted Graves arise.
And can things wanting sense yet sorrow take,
And beare a part with him who all them wrought?
And Man (though borne with cries) shall pitty lack?
Thinke what had been your state, had he not brought
To these sharpe Pangs himselfe, and priz'd so high
Your soules, that with his Life them life he bought▪
What woes do you attend? if still ye lye
Plung'd in your wonted ordures? wretched Brood,
Shall for your sake againe God ever die?
O leave deluding shews, embrace true good,
He on you calls, forgo Sins shamefull trade,
With Prayers now seek Heaven, and not with Bloud.
Let not the Lambs more from their Dams be had,
Nor Altars blush for sin, live every thing,
That long time long'd for sacrifice is made.
All that is from you crav'd by this great King
Is to beleeve, a pure Heart Incense is,
What gift (alas) can we him meaner bring?
Haste sin-sick Soules, this season do not misse,
Now while remorselesse Time doth grant you space,
And God invites you to your only Blisse:
He who you calls will not deny you Grace,
But low-deep bury faults, so ye repent,
His Armes (loe) stretched are you to embrace.
When Daies are done, and Lifes small sparke is spent,
So you accept what freely here is given,
Like brood of Angels deathlesse, all-content,
Ye shall for ever live with him in Heaven.