LOOKE to mee faith, and looke to my faith, God;

 For both my centers feele this period.

Of waight one center, one of greatnesse is;

And Reason is that center, Faith is this;

  5For into'our reason flow, and there do end

All, that this naturall world doth comprehend:

Quotidian things, and equidistant hence,

Shut in, for man, in one circumference.

But for th'enormous greatnesses, which are

10So disproportion'd, and so angulare,

As is Gods essence, place and providence,

Where, how, when, what soules do, departed hence,

These things (eccentrique else) on faith do strike;

Yet neither all, nor upon all, alike.

15For reason, put to'her best extension,

Almost meetes faith, and makes both centers one.

And nothing ever came so neare to this,

As contemplation of that Prince, wee misse.

For all that faith might credit mankinde could,

20Reason still seconded, that this prince would.

If then least moving of the center, make

More, then if whole hell belch'd, the world to shake,

What must this do, centers distracted so,

That wee see not what to beleeve or know?

25Was it not well beleev'd till now, that hee,

Whose reputation was an extasie

On neighbour States, which knew not why to wake,

Till hee discover'd what wayes he would take;

For whom, what Princes angled, when they tryed,

30Met a Torpedo, and were stupified;

And others studies, how he would be bent;

Was his great fathers greatest instrument,

And activ'st spirit, to convey and tie

This soule of peace, through Christianity?

35Was it not well beleev'd, that hee would make

This generall peace, th'Eternall overtake,

And that his times might have stretch'd out so farre,

As to touch those, of which they emblems are?

For to confirme this just beleefe, that now

40The last dayes came, wee saw heav'n did allow,

That, but from his aspect and exercise,

In peacefull times, Rumors of war did rise.

But now this faith is heresie: we must

Still stay, and vexe our great-grand-mother, Dust.

45Oh, is God prodigall? hath he spent his store

Of plagues, on us; and onely now, when more

Would ease us much, doth he grudge misery;

And will not let's enjoy our curse; to dy?

As, for the earth throwne lowest downe of all,

50T'were an ambition to desire to fall,

So God, in our desire to dye, doth know

Our plot for ease, in being wretched so.

Therefore we live; though such a life wee have,

As but so many mandrakes on his grave.

55What had his growth, and generation done,

When, what we are, his putrefaction

Sustaines in us; Earth, which griefes animate?

Nor hath our world now, other Soule then that.

And could griefe get so high as heav'n, that Quire,

60Forgetting this their new joy, would desire

(With griefe to see him) hee had staid below,

To rectifie our errours, They foreknow.

Is th'other center, Reason, faster then?

Where should we looke for that, now we'are not men?

65For if our Reason be'our connexion

Of causes, now to us there can be none.

For, as, if all the substances were spent,

'Twere madnesse, to enquire of accident,

So is't to looke for reason, hee being gone,

70The onely subject reason wrought upon.

If Fate have such a chaine, whose divers links

Industrious man discerneth, as hee thinks;

When miracle doth come, and so steale in

A new linke, man knowes not, where to begin:

75At a much deader fault must reason bee,

Death having broke off such a linke as hee.

But now, for us, with busie proofe to come,

That we'have no reason, would prove wee had some.

So would just lamentations: Therefore wee

80May safelyer say, that we are dead, then hee.

So, if our griefs wee do not well declare,

We'have double excuse; he'is not dead; and we are.

Yet I would not dy yet; for though I bee

Too narrow, to thinke him, as hee is hee,

85(Our Soules best baiting, and midd-period,

In her long journey, of considering God)

Yet, (no dishonour) I can reach him thus,

As he embrac'd the fires of love, with us.

Oh may I, (since I live) but see, or heare,

90That she-Intelligence which mov'd this spheare,

I pardon Fate, my life: Who ere thou bee,

Which hast the noble conscience, thou art shee,

I conjure thee by all the charmes he spoke,

By th'oathes, which onely you two never broke,

95By all the soules yee sigh'd, that if you see

These lines, you wish, I knew your history.

So much, as you, two mutuall heav'ns were here,

I were an Angell, singing what you were.

FAIRE soule, which wast, not onely, as all soules bee,

Then when thou wast infused, harmony,

But did'st continue so; and now dost beare

A part in Gods great organ, this whole Spheare:

  5If looking up to God; or downe to us,

Thou finde that any way is pervious,

Twixt heav'n and earth, and that mans actions doe

Come to your knowledge, and affections too,

See, and with joy, mee to that good degree

10Of goodnesse growne, that I can studie thee,

And, by these meditations refin'd,

Can unapparell and enlarge my minde,

And so can make by this soft extasie,

This place a map of heav'n, my selfe of thee.

15Thou seest mee here at midnight, now all rest;

Times dead-low water; when all mindes devest

To morrows businesse, when the labourers have

Such rest in bed, that their last Church-yard grave,

Subject to change, will scarce be'a type of this,

20Now when the clyent, whose last hearing is

To morrow, sleeps, when the condemned man,

(Who when hee opes his eyes, must shut them than

Againe by death,) although sad watch hee keepe,

Doth practice dying by a little sleepe,

25Thou at this midnight seest mee, and as soone

As that Sunne rises to mee, midnight's noone,

All the world growes transparent, and I see

Through all, both Church and State, in seeing thee;

And I discerne by favour of this light,

30My selfe, the hardest object of the sight.

God is the glasse; as thou when thou dost see

Him who sees all, seest all concerning thee,

So, yet unglorified, I comprehend

All, in these mirrors of thy wayes, and end.

35Though God be our true glasse, through which we see

All, since the beeing of all things is hee,

Yet are the trunkes which doe to us derive

Things, in proportion fit, by perspective,

Deeds of good men; for by their living here,

40Vertues, indeed remote, seeme to be neare.

But where can I affirme, or where arrest

My thoughts on his deeds? which shall I call best?

For fluid vertue cannot be look'd on,

Nor can endure a contemplation.

45As bodies change, and as I do not weare

Those Spirits, humors, blood I did last yeare,

And, as if on a streame I fixe mine eye,

That drop, which I looked on, is presently

Pusht with more waters from my sight, and gone,

50So in this sea of vertues, can no one

Bee'insisted on; vertues, as rivers, passe,

Yet still remaines that vertuous man there was.

And as if man feed on mans flesh, and so

Part of his body to another owe,

55Yet at the last two perfect bodies rise,

Because God knowes where every Atome lyes;

So, if one knowledge were made of all those,

Who knew his minutes well, hee might dispose

His vertues into names, and ranks; but I

60Should injure Nature, Vertue, and Destinie,

Should I divide and discontinue so,

Vertue, which did in one intirenesse grow.

For as, hee that would say, spirits are fram'd

Of all the purest parts that can be nam'd,

65Honours not spirits halfe so much, as hee

Which sayes, they have no parts, but simple bee;

So is't of vertue; for a point and one

Are much entirer then a million.

And had Fate meant to have his vertues told,

70It would have let him live to have beene old;

So, then that vertue in season, and then this,

We might have seene, and said, that now he is

Witty, now wise, now temperate, now just:

In good short lives, vertues are faine to thrust,

75And to be sure betimes to get a place,

When they would exercise, lacke time, and space.

So was it in this person, forc'd to bee

For lack of time, his owne epitome:

So to exhibit in few yeares as much,

80As all the long breath'd Chronicles can touch.

As when an Angell down from heav'n doth flye,

Our quick thought cannot keepe him company,

Wee cannot thinke, now hee is at the Sunne,

Now through the Moon, now he through th'aire doth run,

85Yet when he's come, we know he did repaire

To all twixt Heav'n and Earth, Sunne, Moon, and Aire;

And as this Angell in an instant knowes,

And yet wee know, this sodaine knowledge growes

By quick amassing severall formes of things,

90Which he successively to order brings;

When they, whose slow-pac'd lame thoughts cannot goe

So fast as hee, thinke that he doth not so;

Just as a perfect reader doth not dwell,

On every syllable, nor stay to spell,

95Yet without doubt, hee doth distinctly see

And lay together every A, and B;

So, in short liv'd good men, is'not understood

Each severall vertue, but the compound good;

For, they all vertues paths in that pace tread,

100As Angells goe, and know, and as men read.

O why should then these men, these lumps of Balme

Sent hither, this worlds tempests to becalme,

Before by deeds they are diffus'd and spred,

And so make us alive, themselves be dead?

105O Soule, O circle, why so quickly bee

Thy ends, thy birth and death, clos'd up in thee?

Since one foot of thy compasse still was plac'd

In heav'n, the other might securely'have pac'd

In the most large extent, through every path,

110Which the whole world, or man the abridgment hath.

Thou knowst, that though the tropique circles have

(Yea and those small ones which the Poles engrave,)

All the same roundnesse, evennesse, and all

The endlesnesse of the equinoctiall;

115Yet, when we come to measure distances,

How here, how there, the Sunne affected is,

When he doth faintly worke, and when prevaile,

Onely great circles, than can be our scale:

So, though thy circle to thy selfe expresse

120All, tending to thy endlesse happinesse,

And wee, by our good use of it may trye,

Both how to live well young, and how to die,

Yet, since we must be old, and age endures

His Torrid Zone at Court, and calentures

125Of hot ambitions, irrelegions ice,

Zeales agues, and hydroptique avarice,

Infirmities which need the scale of truth,

As well as lust, and ignorance of youth;

Why did'st thou not for these give medicines too,

130And by thy doing tell us what to doe?

Though as small pocket-clocks, whose every wheele

Doth each mismotion and distemper feele,

Whose hand gets shaking palsies, and whose string

(His sinewes) slackens, and whose Soule, the spring,

135Expires, or languishes, whose pulse, the flye,

Either beates not, or beates unevenly,

Whose voice, the Bell, doth rattle, or grow dumbe,

Or idle,'as men, which to their last houres come,

If these clockes be not wound, or be wound still,

140Or be not set, or set at every will;

So, youth is easiest to destruction,

If then wee follow all, or follow none.

Yet, as in great clocks, which in steeples chime,

Plac'd to informe whole towns, to'imploy their time,

145An error doth more harme, being generall,

When, small clocks faults, only'on the wearer fall;

So worke the faults of age, on which the eye

Of children, servants, or the State relie.

Why wouldst not thou then, which hadst such a soule,

150A clock so true, as might the Sunne controule,

And daily hadst from him, who gave it thee,

Instructions, such as it could never be

Disordered, stay here, as a generall

And great Sun-dyall, to have set us All?

155O why wouldst thou be any instrument

To this unnaturall course, or why consent

To this, not miracle, but Prodigie,

That when the ebbs, longer then flowings be,

Vertue, whose flood did with thy youth begin,

160Should so much faster ebb out, then flow in?

Though her flood was blowne in, by thy first breath,

All is at once sunke in the whirle-poole death.

Which word I would not name, but that I see

Death, else a desert, growne a Court by thee.

165Now I grow sure, that if a man would have

Good companie, his entry is a grave.

Mee thinkes all Cities, now, but Anthills bee,

Where, when the severall labourers I see,

For children, house, Provision, taking paine,

170They'are all but Ants, carrying eggs, straw, and grain;

And Church-yards are our cities, unto which

The most repaire, that are in goodnesse rich.

There is the best concourse, and confluence,

There are the holy suburbs, and from thence

175Begins Gods City, New Jerusalem,

Which doth extend her utmost gates to them.

At that gate then Triumphant soule, dost thou

Begin thy Triumph; But since lawes allow

That at the Triumph day, the people may,

180All that they will, 'gainst the Triumpher say,

Let me here use that freedome, and expresse

My griefe, though not to make thy Triumph lesse.

By law, to Triumphs none admitted bee,

Till they as Magistrates get victorie;

185Though then to thy force, all youthes foes did yield,

Yet till fit time had brought thee to that field,

To which thy ranke in this state destin'd thee,

That there thy counsailes might get victorie,

And so in that capacitie remove

190All jealousies 'twixt Prince and subjects love,

Thou could'st no title, to this triumph have,

Thou didst intrude on death, usurp'dst a grave.

Then (though victoriously) thou hadst fought as yet

But with thine owne affections, with the heate

195Of youths desires, and colds of ignorance,

But till thou should'st successefully advance

Thine armes 'gainst forraine enemies, which are

Both Envy, and acclamations popular,

(For, both these engines equally defeate,

200Though by a divers Mine, those which are great,)

Till then thy War was but a civill War,

For which to Triumph, none admitted are.

No more are they, who though with good successe,

In a defensive war, their power expresse;

205Before men triumph, the dominion

Must be enlarg'd and not preserv'd alone;

Why should'st thou then, whose battailes were to win

Thy selfe, from those straits nature put thee in,

And to deliver up to God that state,

210Of which he gave thee the vicariate,

(Which is thy soule and body) as intire

As he, who takes endeavours, doth require,

But didst not stay, t'enlarge his kingdome too,

By making others, what thou didst, to doe;

215Why shouldst thou Triumph now, when Heav'n no more

Hath got, by getting thee, then't had before?

For, Heav'n and thou, even when thou livedst here,

Of one another in possession were.

But this from Triumph most disables thee,

220That, that place which is conquered, must bee

Left safe from present warre, and likely doubt

Of imminent commotions to breake out:

And hath he left us so? or can it bee

His territory was no more then Hee?

225No, we were all his charge, the Diocis

Of ev'ry exemplar man, the whole world is,

And he was joyned in commission

With Tutelar Angels, sent to every one.

But though this freedome to upbraid, and chide

230Him who Triumph'd, were lawfull, it was ty'd

With this, that it might never reference have

Unto the Senate, who this triumph gave;

Men might at Pompey jeast, but they might not

At that authoritie, by which he got

235Leave to Triumph, before, by age, he might;

So, though, triumphant soule, I dare to write,

Mov'd with a reverentiall anger, thus,

That thou so earely wouldst abandon us;

Yet I am farre from daring to dispute

240With that great soveraigntie, whose absolute

Prerogative hath thus dispens'd with thee,

'Gainst natures lawes, which just impugners bee

Of early triumphs; And I (though with paine)

Lessen our losse, to magnifie thy gaine

245Of triumph, when I say, It was more fit,

That all men should lacke thee, then thou lack it.

Though then in our time, be not suffered

That testimonie of love, unto the dead,

To die with them, and in their graves be hid,

250As Saxon wives, and French soldurii did;

And though in no degree I can expresse

Griefe in great Alexanders great excesse,

Who at his friends death, made whole townes devest

Their walls and bullwarks which became them best:

255Doe not, faire soule, this sacrifice refuse,

That in thy grave I doe interre my Muse,

Who, by my griefe, great as thy worth, being cast

Behind hand, yet hath spoke, and spoke her last.

MAN is the World, and death th'Ocean,

To which God gives the lower parts of man.

This Sea invirons all, and though as yet

God hath set markes, and bounds, twixt us and it,

  5Yet doth it rore, and gnaw, and still pretend,

And breaks our bankes, when ere it takes a friend.

Then our land waters (teares of passion) vent;

Our waters, then, above our firmament,

(Teares which our Soule doth for her sins let fall)

10Take all a brackish taft, and Funerall,

And even these teares, which should wash sin, are sin.

We, after Gods Noe, drowne our world againe.

Nothing but man of all invenom'd things

Doth worke upon itselfe, with inborne stings.

15Teares are false Spectacles, we cannot see

Through passions mist, what wee are, or what shee.

In her this sea of death hath made no breach,

But as the tide doth wash the slimie beach,

And leaves embroder'd workes upon the sand,

20So is her flesh refin'd by deaths cold hand.

As men of China,'after an ages stay,

Do take up Porcelane, where they buried Clay;

So at this grave, her limbecke, which refines

The Diamonds, Rubies, Saphires, Pearles, and Mines,

25Of which this flesh was, her soule shall inspire

Flesh of such stuffe, as God, when his last fire

Annuls this world, to recompence it, shall,

Make and name then, th'Elixar of this All.

They say, the sea, when it gaines, loseth too;

30If carnall Death (the yonger brother) doe

Usurpe the body,'our soule, which subject is

To th'elder death, by sinne, is freed by this;

They perish both, when they attempt the just;

For, graves our trophies are, and both deaths dust.

35So, unobnoxious now, she'hath buried both;

For, none to death sinnes, that to sinne is loth,

Nor doe they die, which are not loth to die;

So hath she this, and that virginity.

Grace was in her extremely diligent,

40That kept her from sinne, yet made her repent.

Of what small spots pure white complaines! Alas,

How little poyson cracks a christall glasse!

She sinn'd, but just enough to let us see

That God's word must be true, All, sinners be.

45Soe much did zeale her conscience rarefie

That, extreme truth lack'd little of a lye,

Making omissions, acts; laying the touch

Of sinne, on things that sometimes may be such.

As Moses Cherubines, whose natures doe

50Surpasse all speed, by him are winged too:

So would her soule, already'in heaven, seeme then,

To clyme by teares, the common staires of men.

How fit she was for God, I am content

To speake, that Death his vaine hast may repent.

55How fit for us, how even and how sweet,

How good in all her titles, and how meet,

To have reform'd this forward heresie,

That women can no parts of friendship bee;

How Morall, how Divine shall not be told,

60Lest they that heare her vertues, thinke her old:

And lest we take Deaths part, and make him glad

Of such a prey, and to his tryumph adde.

D EATH I recant, and say, unsaid by mee

  What ere hath slip'd, that might diminish thee.

Spirituall treason, atheisme 'tis, to say,

That any can thy Summons disobey.

  5Th'earths face is but thy Table; there are set

Plants, cattell, men, dishes for Death to eate.

In a rude hunger now hee millions drawes

Into his bloody, or plaguy, or sterv'd jawes.

Now hee will seeme to spare, and doth more wast,

10Eating the best first, well preserv'd to last.

Now wantonly he spoiles, and eates us not,

But breakes off friends, and lets us peecemeale rot.

Nor will this earth serve him; he sinkes the deepe

Where harmelesse fish monastique silence keepe,

15Who (were Death dead) by Roes of living sand,

Might spunge that element, and make it land.

He rounds the aire, and breakes the hymnique notes

In birds (Heavens choristers,) organique throats,

Which (if they did not dye) might seeme to bee

20A tenth ranke in the heavenly hierarchie.

O strong and long-liv'd death, how cam'st thou in?

And how without Creation didst begin?

Thou hast, and shalt see dead, before thou dyest,

All the foure Monarchies, and Antichrist.

25How could I thinke thee nothing, that see now

In all this All, nothing else is, but thou.

Our births and lives, vices, and vertues, bee

Wastfull consumptions, and degrees of thee.

For, wee to live, our bellowes weare, and breath,

30Nor are wee mortall, dying, dead, but death.

And though thou beest, O mighty bird of prey,

So much reclaim'd by God, that thou must lay

All that thou kill'st at his feet, yet doth hee

Reserve but few, and leaves the most to thee.

35And of those few, now thou hast overthrowne

One whom thy blow makes, not ours, nor thine own.

She was more stories high: hopelesse to come

To her Soule, thou'hast offer'd at her lower roome.

Her Soule and body was a King and Court:

40But thou hast both of Captaine mist and fort.

As houses fall not, though the King remove,

Bodies of Saints rest for their soules above.

Death gets 'twixt soules and bodies such a place

As sinne insinuates 'twixt just men and grace,

45Both worke a separation, no divorce.

Her Soule is gone to usher up her corse

Which shall be'almost another soule, for there

Bodies are purer, then best Soules are here,

Because in her, her virtues did outgoe

50Her yeares, would'st thou, O emulous death, do so?

And kill her young to thy losse? must the cost

Of beauty,'and wit, apt to doe harme, be lost?

What though thou found'st her proofe 'gainst sins of youth?

Oh, every age a diverse sinne pursueth.

55Thou should'st have stay'd, and taken better hold,

Shortly, ambitious; covetous, when old,

She might have prov'd: and such devotion

Might once have stray'd to superstition.

If all her vertues must have growne, yet might

60Abundant virtue'have bred a proud delight.

Had she persever'd just, there would have bin

Some that would sinne, mis-thinking she did sinne.

Such as would call her friendship, love, and faine

To sociablenesse, a name profane;

65Or sinne, by tempting, or, not daring that,

By wishing, though they never told her what.

Thus might'st thou'have slain more soules, had'st thou not crost

Thy selfe, and to triumph, thine army lost.

Yet though these wayes be lost, thou hast left one,

70Which is, immoderate griefe that she is gone.

But we may scape that sinne, yet weepe as much,

Our teares are due, because we are not such.

Some teares, that knot of friends, her death must cost,

Because the chaine is broke, though no linke lost.