IS HAM REPRINTS.
No. i.
SHAKESPEARE'S VENUS AND ADONIS.
From a hitherto-unknown Edition. 1599. —
THE PASSIONATE PILGRIME, by
SHAKESPEARE. 1599.— EPIGRAMMES, by
SIR JOHN DAVIESJ and OVID'S ELEGIES,
by MARLOWE.
No. 2.
NEWES OUT OF POWLES CHURCH
YARD E.... Written in English Satyrs. By
E. HAKE. 1579.
No. 3.
BRETON (NICHOLAS). NO WHIPPINGE,
NOR TRIPPINGE: BUT A KINDE
FRIENDLY SNIPPINGE. 1601.
No. 4.
SOUTHWELL (ROBERT). A FOVRE-
FOVLD MEDITATION OF THE
FOURE LAST THINGS. 1606.
THE ISHAM REPRINTS.
No. 4..
A FOVRE-FOVLD MEDITATION.
BY R. S.
1606.
I
Of the foure last things :
viz.
IHoure of Death.
Day of Judgement.
D • c rj n
Fames of Hell,
loyes of Heauen.
Shewing the estate of the Eleft and Re-probate :
COMPOSED IN A DIUINE POEME
BY R. S.
The author of S. Peters complaint.
[ROBERT SOUTHWELL, S.J.]
Imprinted at London by G. Eld: for Francis Burton.
1606.
WITH A BIBLIOGRAPHICAL PREFACE
BY CHARLES EDMONDS;
EDITOR OF THE " ISHAM SHAKESPEARE ; " " BASILICON DORON OF K. JAMES I. J
" HAKE'S NEWES OUT OF POWLES CHURCHYARDE ; "
"THE POETRY OF THE ANTI-JACOBIN, BY THE RT. HON. G. CANNING, THE
RT. HON. J. HOOKHAM FRERE, G. ELLIS, W. GIFFORD, ETC. ; "
" THE PYTCHLEY HUNT, PAST AND PRESENT, BY H. O. NETHERCOTE."
PUBLISHED BY
ELKIN MATHEWS,
VIGO STREET, LONDON.
MDCCCXCV.
"PR.
1&95
( HISWICK PRESS : CHARLES WHITTINGHAM AND CO.
TOOKS COURT, CHANCERY LANE, LONDON.
A BIBLIOGRAPHICAL NOTE BY THE
DISCOVERER AND EDITOR.
AS the merits of Southwell, both as a Poet and
a Martyr, have been continually eulogized
by Catholics and Proteftants alike, it is unneceflary
to dilate upon them here. My intention is, there
fore, to addrefs myfelf only to the difcovery and
fubfequent adventures of the interefting Tractate,
now for the firft time fubmitted to the notice of
the public.
It was one amongft many of the valuable works
of Old Englifh Poetry and Profe of the Elizabethan
and Jacobean ages which I difcovered at Lamport
Hall in September, 1867, and the circumftances
under which it was brought to light, and its author's
identity proved, are fo uncommon that they might
form a chapter in a Romance of Bibliography.
The facts are thefe :
After the iflue of Nos. i and 2 of the " Imam
Reprints," which were the hitherto-unknown edition
of Shakefpeare's "Venus and Adonis" of 1599, an^
Hake's rare " Newes out of Powles Churchyarde"
of 1579, the next volume of which I recommended
the publication was "A Foure-fould Meditation of
the Foure Laft Thinges ; compofed in a Divine
Poeme. By R. S., the author of S. Peters Com
plaint," London, 1606, //the miffing portion of the
viii A Bibliographical Note.
poem could be found, for I had only a flight frag
ment containing the firft eight leaves alone ; but
thefe were precious, as in addition to the firft 35
ftanzas, they gave, not only a Dedication by W. H.1
(himfelf a literary difcoverer) in thefe ftriking words :
" Long haue they lien hidden in obfcuritie, and
happily [haplie] had neuer feene the light, had not
a meere accident conuayed them to my hands," etc. ;
but alfb, moft fortunately, the Title-page, for it
revealed the name of the illuftrious author.
I therefore fent a communication at the end of
October, 1873 (inferted November i), to the
"Athenaeum," which, from its high character and
world-wide circulation, was moft likely to effect my
object. Nor was I difappointed, for a few days
after I received the following note :
« St. Mary's College,
" Ofcott, Birmingham.
"Nov. 8, 1873.
" Dear Sir,
tf Would you kindly tell me whether the frag
ment of the poem of Southwell which you have
difcovered begins thus :
' O wretched man which loveft earthlie thinges
And to this worlde haft made thyfelfe a thrall.'
" This is the firft ftanza of a poem which we have
here at the Coll. in MS., and if I can identify it as
1 I have always prefumed this " W. H." to be the fame
" W. H." who gave Shakefpeare's Sonnets to the world three
years after the prefent work was iffued from the prefs of the
fame printer, George Eld.
A Bibliographical Note. ix
Southwell's I mould think it worth while, with the
Prefident's permiflion, to have it printed. In any
cafe, as a Catholic, I fhould wifh to thank you for
bringing to light fomething illuftrative of the life
and works of F. Robert Southwell, and therefore of
fuch intereft to Englifh literature. Believe me,
Dear Sir, yours very truly, S. SOLE.
"Charles Edmonds, Efq."
A few days later I received the following letter
from the Prefident, who, after exprefling his regret
at not being able to fee me when I called owing to
prefs of bufinefs, continues thus : " Mr. Sole has
explained to me your wifh to publim the whole of
this poem of Southwell's ; and as you have been
the means of identifying the poem as his, I think it
is only fair that you mould receive every help we
can give you in carrying out your defire. I there
fore will lend you the MS. tomorrow, trufting with
confidence to your taking all poflible care of it, and
returning it to us as foon as you have tranfcribed
this poem. Yours truly, J. SPENCER NORTHCOTE."
This was the title under which the " Fourefould
Meditation " was concealed ; probably for fufficient
prudential reafons : " Sartaine mofte holfome &
necefTarie confederations, or meditations verye meete
and convenyent (for all degrees) and att all tymes
to be duelye confidered of and had in Remem-
berance To withdrawe our affections from this vaine
& wicked worlde, to the defire of Heaven and
heavenlye thinges. Reade with good advifement."
b
x A Bibliographical Note.
The volume confifts of 180 leaves, and at the
beginning vf the MS. is this : ft The Epiftel Dedica-
torie. To the right wormipfull Mr. Thomas
Knevett Efquire, Peter Mowle wifheth the perpe-
tuytie of true felyfitie, the health of bodie and foule
with continewance of worfhipp in this worlde, And
after Death the participation of Heavenlie happines
dewringe all worldes for ever." Among other
pieces in the volume are :
"A brief Catachifm of ChrifKan Doftrine, compyled by
Lawrence Vaux, Bachelor of Divinitie, 1583." 41 leaves.
[Of the family of Baron Vaux of Harrowden, which title,
created in 1524, is now extinft, but revived in the perfon of
Lord Chancellor Brougham in 1830, whofe anceftor married
Jane Vaux.]
Peter Mowle his Loking Glafle.
Certaine of Alabafters his Meditations. Anno 1597. 13
ftanzas of 14. lines each.
Defiderius, or the readie way to the Love of God. Written
in Dialogue wife, under learned and pleafaunt Allegories.
Firft put forth in the Spaniflie tonge and after tranflated into
Latin : and now lately into Englifhe for the behoofe of the
devout of our nation by I. G. Prifoner. In profe : 28 clofely-
written leaves.
[The famous FATHER JOHN GERARD, author of " The Narra
tive of the Gunpowder Plot, who fled with Southwell when
purfued by four Prieft-hunters or purfuivants.]
Sartaine Godlye and devout Verefes of the paffion of our
Lord and Savyor Jefu Chrift, the Lamentation of our blefled
Ladie (in Latin Stabat Mater dolorofa, &c.) the fiftene mifte-
ries of the Rofarie of our Ladie in verfe, with dyverfe other
godly prayers and devoute matters fett forth by S. W. and
dedycated to the vertuous Ladie Pawlett.
The Difcourfe of the Martirdome of Mrs. Margarett
Clytherowe ; A.D. 1586.
Verfes given for a New Yeares Gift in Anno 1592 to the
Ladie Vifcountis Hereford of Parham.
A Bibliographical Note. xi
Verfes of the Earthquake which happened on the 24th daie
of December 1601.
The Anatomic of Pride made by mee P.M. 1602.
A devout and godly prayer made by the moft excelent and
godlye Queene, Queene Marye.
Verfes to The Worlhipfull my good mfs. Miftres Elenor
Woodhowfe of Caftor. Anno 1606.
At end : " Peter Mowld, Junior, oweth this Booke. Witt-
nefle Edmond Mould. 1605." While the witnefs calls
himfelf Mould, the owner ufes indifferently the names Mowld
and Mowlde. He defcribes himfelf as of Attelbroughe, and
of his being in 1589 in his 35th year.
The dated pieces range from 1590 to 1606.
The Ofcott MS. is not followed in the prefent
reprint for the following reafons : it contains only
1 1 8 ftanzas, while that in the Rawlinfon colle&ion
in the Bodleian contains 126; the additional ones
being Nos. 42 and 63 to 69. Not only is the
order of ftanzas 13 and 14 different, but they vary
in the commencement of the former. And the
•printed fragment mows that the reading there given
muft have preceded that of the Rawlinfon MS.
The latter is therefore ufed ; but it contains no
title-page, and is afcribed erroneoufly to Lord
Philip Arundel.
I find that Southwell has Poems in " Briefe Medi
tations in the moft Holy Sacrament," by L. PINELLI,
of the Society of Jefus ; alfo " Hymes \_Jic] gathered
out of S. Thomas de Aquino, tranflated by the
Rev. Fa: R. S." 8vo., s. L et a.
On Tuefday, March 26th, the following in-
terefting MS. was fold at Sotheby's. Lot 1050,
Bibliotheca Phillippica. This MS. formerly be-
xii A Bibliographical Note.
longed to the famous hagiographer, Alban Butler,
whofe autograph appears upon the firft page.
" 1050 Southwell or Sotwell. Meditationes
Roberti Sotuelli Martyris de Attributis Divinis ad
amorem Dei excitantes — Exercitia et Devotiones
ejufderrij in the original vellum binding. 8vo."
C. E.
A
FOVREJFOVLD
Meditation,
Of the four e laft things :
viz.
Houre of Death.
2.f f r ^ay of Judgement.
c ePainesofHell.
loyes of Heauen.
Shewing the eftate of the Eleff and Reprobate.
Compofed in a Diuine Poeme
By R: S.
'The author ofS. Peters complaint.
Imprinted at London by G. Eld: for Francis Burton.
1606.
To the Right Worfhipfull and
Fertuous Gentleman , Mathew
Saunders,Efquire.
W. H . wifheth, with long life,a profperous
achieuement of his good defires.
\Ir ; as I with great dejire apprehended
the leaft opportunity of manifefting
towards your worthy Jelfe my fincere
affection, Jo jhould I be veryjory to pre-
fent any thing vnto you, wherein I
Jhould growe offenfiue, or willingly
breed your leaft moleftation : but theje meditations, being
Diuine and Religious (&vpon mineowne knowledge, cor-
rejpondent to your zealous inclination) emboldened me to
recommend them to your view and cenjure, and therein
to make knowne mine owne entire affehion, andjeruice-
able loue towards you. Long haue they lien hidden in ob-
Jcuritie, and happily had neuerjeene the light, had not a
meere accident conuayed them to my hands. But, hauing
Jerioufly perujed them, loath Iwas that any who are reli-
giouftyaffecJedJhouldbedepriuedof Jo great acomfort, as
the due confederation thereof may bring vnto them. As for
my Jelfe, Sir, the knowledge you haue of me, I hope will ex-
cuje the coldnejje andfterilitie of my conceipts, who couet
to illuftrate my in fire affeftio vnto your wor/hip,by reall
and approued actions, referring my Jelfe wholly in this,&
all other my indeuours, to your fauour able conjlrucJion,
who/hall euer be of power, in the humbleft
Jeruices to command me.
Your Worfhips vnfained affectionate
W. H.
A Treatife of the houre of Death,
the day of Judgement, thepaines
of Hell, and the ioyes of Heauen.
Of the houre of Death.
i.
O Wretched man, which loueft earthlie thinges,
And to this worlde haft made thyfelfe a thrall,
Whofe fhorte delightes eternall forrow bringes,
Whofe fweete in mewe in trewth is bitter gall :
Whofe pleafures fade eare fcarfe they be pofleft,
And greve him left that moft doe them deteft.
2.
Thou arte not fuer one moment for to lyue,
And att thy death thou leaueft all behinde,
Thy landes and goodes noe fuckor then can geue,
Thie pleafures paft are crofles to thie minde :
Thie friend the world can yeld thee noe releefe,
Thy greateft ioye will proue thie greateft greefe.
The
Of the houre
3-
The tyme will come when Death will thee a/Take :
Conceyue yt then as prefent for to bee,
That thou in tyme maieft feeke to mend thie falte,
And in thie life thine errors plainlye fee :
Imagen now thie corfe is allmoft fpent,
And marke thie frinds how deepelie they lament.
Thy wyfe dothe howle, and pearce the verie ikies,
Thie chilldrens teares their forrowes doth bewraye,
Thie kinesfolke morne and wepe with woefull cryes,
Now thou muft dye, and canft noe longer ftaye :
Loe here the ioyes and treafures of thie hart :
Thie race is ronne : from them thou muft depart.
With paine thou doft lye, gafpinge all for breath,
Paft hope of life or hope of anie good,
Thy prefent ftate a lyuelye forme of death,
Thie hart become all cold for want of blood :
Thie nofethrills ronne, and gafpinge thou doft lye,
Thie lothfome fight thie frinds beginne to flic.
Thy
of Death.
6.
Thy voyce doth yeld a horce and hollowe founde,
Thie dyinge head doth greadie feeme to fleape,
Thie fences all with horror doth abound,
Thie feete doth die, and death doth vpward creepe :
Thie eyes doth ftand, faft fett into thine head,
Thie jawes doth fall, and fhowe thee allmoft dead.
7-
What dofte thou thinke, now all thie fences faile ?
What dofte thou faye by pleafure here is wonne ?
How doft thou now thie pafled life bewayle ?
How doft thou wiihe thie courfe were new to ronne ?
What woldft thou doe thie endinge life to faue ?
What woldft thou geue for that thou canft not
[haue ?
8.
Thy bodie now muft frome the foule departe,
Thie lands and goods another muft poflefle,
Thie ioyes are paft on which thou fetft thine harte,
Thie paines to come noe creature can expre/Te :
Loe here the fruite and gaine of all thie finne,
Thie Life muft end, and Death muft now beginne.
Thy
Of the houre
9>
Thy former faultes are fett before thine eyes,
And monftrous fhewes which feemd before fo fmall,
To fwallowe thee, Defpaire in fecrett lyes,
And all thie finnes with terror thee appall : [mone,
With fcalldinge fighes they make thee now to
And in thie foule with forrowe thou doft grone.
10.
Thou wayleft now the pleafinge of thie will,
Thie euill gott goods doth make thee fo lament,
Thievaine delightes with anguifhe thee doth fill,
Thie wantone tricks thie confcience doth torment :
Thie fweeteft finnes doth bringe thee bitter fmarte,
Thie hey nous faultes opprefle thie dyinge harte.
ii.
With dreadfull feare they make thie dolefull mynd,
And bent to fight, with force they thee inclofe,
In worldlye helpe noe reflcue thou canft finde :
And ftandinge now amidft thie mortall foes,
A thoufand deathes wold feeme a lefler paine
Then this eftate in which thou doft remaine.
Noe
of Death.
12.
Noe tonge, no penn, nor creature can bewraye,
Howe all thie finnes their feftred rancor fhowe,
Howe dreadfull fightes with forrowe thee difmaye,
Howe bluftringe ftormes of greefe beginne to blowe :
Thie ioyes are gone, which were thie God before,
Thie life is done and mall returne noe more.
13-
What booteth it thie lewdnes to repent,
And leaue to finne when finne forfaketh thee ?
What canft thou doe when all thie force is fpent ?
Will then our Lord with this appeafed bee ?
Thie life thou ledft in feruice of his foe,
And farueft him when life thou muft forgoe.
14.
Now heauen to win noe paines thou wouldft refufe,
Nor fpare thie goods to eafe thie woefull ftate,
Of all thie finnes thou doft thie felfe accufe,
And call for grace when callinge comes to late :
For finne thou dideft while life and power did laft,
And leaueft now, when force to finne is paft.
c Then
Of the houre
Then had I wift, with forrowe thou doft faie,
But after witts repentance euer breed,
The daye is come, thie debt thou now muft paie,
And yeld to death, when life thou moft fhalt neede :
Thie breath is ftopt in twinclinge of an eye,
Thie bodie dead in vglie forme doth lye.
1 6.
Thye carcafle now like carrion menn doth fhonne,
Thie frends doe haft thie buryall to procuer,
Thie faruaunts feeke from thee awaye to ronne,
Thie lothfome ftench noe creature can induer :
And they which tooke in thee their moft delight,
Doe hate thee moft, and moft abhorre thie fight.
17-
Thye flefh mall ferue for maggotts for a praye,
For pamperinge which both fea and land was fought,
Thie bodie muft tranceformed be to claye,
For whofe delight fuche coftlie clothes were bought :
Thie pryde in duft, thie glorie in the graue,
Thie flefh in earth their endinge now mail haue.
Behold
of Death.
1 8.
Behold ! the place in which thou doft abyde
Is lothfome, darke, vnfweete, and verie ftraite :
With rotten bones befett on euerye fyde,
And crawlinge wormes to feede on thee doth waite :
Oh harde exchange ! O vile and hatefull place !
Where earth and fillth thie carcafe muft imbrace.
19.
O wretched ftate ! O moft vnhappie man 1
Yet were yt well yf nothing were behinde,
Yf all myght end as here yt firft begann,
Some comfort were fuche endinge for to finde :
For then as God of nothinge thee did frame,
By courfe againe thou fhouldft become the fame.
20.
But lyue thou muft a thoufand deathes to die,
And dyinge ftill, yet neuer whollie dead,
Thou muft appere before the Judge on hie,
And haue reward as thou thie life haft ledd :
Thie tyme is come, thou canft no longer ftay,
The iudge is fett, and botelefle is delaye.
Behoulde
Of the day
21,
Behoulde his power. Loe whom thou didft offend
For vaine delights, which were but mere deceipt,
Behould on him how Anngells doth attend,
And all that court doe for his comminge waight :
Behould his throne of glorie in the fkies,
And fee how wrath doth fparkell from his eies.
22.
Loe this is hee whoe euerie thing did make, [daye,
Whom Heauen and Earth doe prayfe both night and
Loe here the looke att which the Anngells quake,
Loe here the Lord whom all thinges doth obaye :
His will is lawe, and maye not be withftand,
His wrath confumes and killeth out of hand.
23-
O filthie foule, how maye this wrath be borne ?
Or can a worme his furie now abyde ?
The Anngells laugh thy fillthines to fkorne :
They hate thie finne, and thee for fwellinge pryde :
They mine with beames fare brightter then the
And call on God that Juftice may be done. [Sonne,
Each
of ^Judgement.
J J o
24.
Each creature cryes that puniftit thou mayft bee,
Whom in thie lyfe thou lewdlye didft abufe :
Both Heauen and earth are fooes proteft to thee,
And all thie thoughtes of finne doth thee accufe :
Thie wordes and deedes againft thee now are
brought,
And all thie filth which finne in thee hath wrought.
25.
Thou fyted arte a juft account to fhowe,
How farre thou fought thie felfe for to deny,
How all thie landes and welth thou didft beftowe,
And with thie goodes thie brothers wante fupplye :
What care thou hadft thie makers name to prayfe,
What paine thou tokft to walk in all his wayes.
26.
The Judge dothe afke how all thie life was fpent,
Yf from offence thie fences thou didft keepe,
Yf in thie foule thou truelye didft repent,
And for thie finne with hartie forrowe weepe :
Yf thou his feare didft fett before thine eyes,
And for his loue all worldlie ioyes defpife.
Yf
Of the day
27.
Yf eke thie foes reuenge thou hafte not wrought,
Yf to thie frindes thou neuer wert vnkinde,
Yf earthlie pompe thou euer fett att nought,
Yf fecrett hate thou hafte not kept in mynde :
Yf thou alike didft ioye and forrowe take,
And with thie harte all carnall luft forfake.
28.
Thye thoughtes and wordes the Judge dothe open
And aflceth now a ftrayte account of all, [laye,
How thou didft here his motions obaye,
And for his grace with ereneft fervor call :
Yf all thie lyfe on earth thou ledft vpright,
And in his loue didft fett thie whole delight.
29.
What canft thou plead thie lewdnes to excufe,
When truth fhall proue in all thou didft offend ?
The Judge is juft, thou mayft not him refufe,
Thie caufe is naught, thou canft not it defend :
To hope for helpe, alas ! it is in vaine,
The tyme is pafte, noe helpe thou canft obtaine.
Our
of Judgement.
30.
Our Lord doth faye, " how couldft thou ufe me foe,
Sith I to thee both foule and bodie gaue?
How durft thou feeke and ferue my mortall fooe,
Sithe I did dye thie felfe from death to faue ?
I gaue thee all, and me thou didft deteft,
He gaue thee naught, yet wholie thee pofeft.
" Thye lands and life did from my goodnes flowe,
Thy flefhe and bones I did of nothinge frame,
Both wellth and witt I did on thee beftowe,
And gaue thee all to prayfe my holie name :
Yett with them all againft mee thou didft fight,
And fledd to them whoe bredd mee greateft fpight.
32-
" When I did fpeake thou feemedft deafe and dombe,
When he did call thou madft him aunfwere ftrayte,
He neuer ftayd but thou didft quickly come,
And I without inforfed was to wayte :
O thankelefle wretche thou mee malt fee noe more,
But dwell with him whoe had thie harte before.
Thou
Of the day
33-
" Thou malt with him for euer more remayne,
To whome thie felfe for pleafure thou hafte foulde,
His will thou wroughft, and myne thou didft dif-
His right thou arte, I can not thee withoulde : [daine,
Thie owne deferts haue made thee his to bee,
The choyfe was thine, noe wronge is donne to
[thee."
34-
Then comes the Devill, and to our Lord doth faye,
" O righteoufs Judge, this wretche I ought to haue,
For in his lyfe he would not thee obaye,
But with his harte to mee him felfe he gaue :
My precepts eke he pradlift daye and night,
And mee to pleafe he made his whole delight.
35-
c< Him felfe he vowed to ferue me all his dayes,
His eyes were fixt vppon my counfell ftill,
His feete were bent to walke in all my wayes,
His harte was fett for to performe my will :
His life and landes I drue him on to fpend,
In doeinge that which might thee moft offend.
Hee
of Judgement.
36.
" Hee fcornd thie power and quyte refufde thie grace,
Thie bitter paynes hee bannimt from his eyes,
Thie precious bloud hee never would imbrace,
Thie gracious woundes he lewdlie did defpife :
Thie threats for finne he reckoned as a ieft,
Thie wordes and will in all he did deteft.
37-
" Thie glorious death hee feemed to difdaine,
And followed that in which hee did delight,
For fervinge thee he toke not anie paine,
But all thie love with hate he did requite :
What reafon then thie glorie he fhould fee,
Of which he feemde fo carelefle for to bee.
38.
" Thou didft him make, and on him all beftowe,
I nothinge gaue nor him to beinge brought,
Yet thee he left, to whom he loue did owe,
And mee hee farvd, whoe never gave him ought :
What woldft thou more thou vfeft not to wronge,
And hee to mee in Juftice doth belonge.
D Behoulde
Of the day
39-
Behoulde, O foule ! how God doth thee refufe,
And how his foe doth clayme thee as his owne,
Thie conscience doth with horror thee accufe,
And reape thou muft as thou before haft fowne :
The Lord of Lords doth thee condemne to lye
In endlefle flames where livinge thou {halt dye.
40.
O wretched foule ! what mall become of thee ?
What greater paine can any harte devife ?
Yett worfe their is, if worfe their yett maye bee,
Thie bodie muft to Judgment fhortlie rife :
And bothe alike in Hell muft fuffer fmarte,
As both in earth in finne had equall parte.
41.
All finners faine would fhonne this dreadfull daye,
And wifhe yt were without their perill paft,
The feare alone muft needs their hartes difmaye,
The fignes appeare and on yt cometh faft :
Behold the Sonn is darke which fhined bright,
The ftares doe fall, the moone hathe loft her light.
Behould
of Judgement.
42.
Behould how men are witherede quite with woe,
And cannot find a harbowre now of reft :
Behould on earth how fenclefle they doe goe,
Theire faces palle, theire harts with feare oppreft :
Behould each where how beafts for terrour cry,
And marke how men alredy feeme to dye.
43-
Behoulde how blodd the trees and braunches fweate,
And howc each thinge in trembblinge wife doth
Behoulde the Sea againft the Land doth beate, [quake,
And roringe lowde doth force the Earth to make :
Her furges mounte, her fwellinge furie fhowes,
And on the Land her fime with rage fhee throwes.
44.
The clowdes like fmoake doe thicken in the flties,
The mountaines move, the Earth doth open wide,
The bluftringe windes with ftormes and tempefts
The ftowtteft hartes their faces feeke to hide : [rife
Both ritch and poore from citties now are fledd,
And all in caves doe ronne to fhrowde their head.
Eche
Of the day
45-
Eche lyvinge thinge for helpe doth crye and call,
And favage beaftes vnto the Cittie flie,
The earth doth quake, the ftrongeft towers fall,
And beaftes remaine were menn did vfe to lie :
The courfe begins of nature heire to faile,
The Heauens doth mourne and all thinges els
[doth wayle.
46.
The Anngells lowd their Trumpets dreadfull found,
And fummones all that ever lyfe pofeft,
The Earth with woe and terror doth abound,
The dead aryfe that longe had bene at reft :
Bothe quicke and dead aflembled round doe ftand,
And wayte his will whofe comminge is at hand.
47-
Behoulde how lowe both Heaven and earth doe bowe,
And proftrate all his favor to defyre,
Behould howe Chrift in glorie cometh now,
And in the ayre appeares a flame of fyer :
The Earth for feare doe tremble att this fight,
The fea is dryed, the hills are molten quight.
The
of "Judgement.
J %/ o
48.
The hardeft rockes are turned into duft,
His furious wrath noe creature can abyde,
Their paines were fweete which now are proved juft,
And neede not feeke in corners them to hyde :
Our Lord rewardes as merytt hee doth finde,
Thrife happie they that beare a giltles minde.
49.
O curfed foule ! how art thou drownd in care,
When all this fight is fett before thine eyes :
Thy paflinge feare noe wry tinge can declare,
Thie bodie darke like Deathe doe feme to ryfe :
Thie hope is paft for eafinge of thie fmarte,
Thie finnes are prickes to wound thie dyinge
[harte.
50.
Behould how thou noe favor here canft gett,
Nor from thie foes by anie meanes efcape :
Thie right hand is with all thie finnes befett,
Beneath thee Hell to fwallowe thee doe gape :
The fearefull fends vppon thie left hand frowne,
And lye in wayte, to thro we thee hedlonge downe.
Above
Of the day
51-
Above thee fytts the Judge all fild with rage,
Whom in thie life thou lewdlie didft offend,
Noe helpe thou haft his furie to aflwage,
His browes hee doth with anger fercelie bend :
And all the finnes of menn hee doth repeate,
Which forceth now his furie to be greate.
52.
Within thee gnawes thie confcience voyde of grace,
And all the evill to which thou didft confent,
Without thee ftands thie frinds which wayle thie cace,
And doe thie ftate with bitter grefe lament ;
On euerie fyde the world doth thee affright,
Whofe terror fhowes, with flames that burneth
[bright.
53-
If forward now thou tookeft on thie waye,
Thou hedlonge doft vnto thie ruine run,
The devills doe watche thie goinge backe to ftaye,
Noe meanes is left misfortune for to fhun :
What wilt thou doe, invirond thus with woe ?
For neyther back nor forward thou canft goe.
O
of Judgement.
54-
O wretched man ! how heauie is thie harte,
How doft thou wifh for that which can not bee,
How doft thou figh and quake in euerie parte,
And muft thie frinds be feverd thus from thee :
They fild with ioye in glorie now mall raigne,
And full of greife thou torment muft fuftaine.
55-
The Judges wordes are like a burninge fyer,
Which wafteth all it commeth to imbrace,
It booteth not his mercie to requyer,
The time is paft of callinge now for grace :
Behould the Judge doth thee condemne to hell,
Wher thou in paine for finne malt ever dwell.
56.
O dolefull wordes ! O moft vnhappie wight !
Thie head to fhrowd for mountaines thou doft call,
Thie future paines are prefent in thie fight,
And curfeft now the cawfes of thie fall :
Thie birth and life to late thou doft repent,
Yet wayleft both and doft in vaine lament.
What
Of the pain es
57-
What tonge, what penn, what creature can exprefle
Thofe deadlie greifes which allwayes thou doft taft ?
The longer tyme the comfort is the lefle,
Thie hope decayes, thie forrowes never waft.
O bitter fweete that earthlie pleafures breede !
Thie livinge death all torments doth exceede.
58.
Thye wanton eies thofe hellifh monfters fee,
Whofe blodie mindes thie ruine did confpire,
Whofe neefinge feme like lightning for to bee, [fire :
Whofe monftrous mouthes doe caft out flames of
Whofe nofethrills fmoake, whofe eies are glowing
redd,
Whofe whole delight by others fmarte is bredd.
59-
Thye wretched eares, which harkened vnto lyes,
Doe here howe fends doe rage with all defpight,
Noe noyfe is their but fhreekes and hideous cryes,
Which able are the ftouteft hart to fright : [wayle,
Wher fome blafpheme, and fome their ftates be-
Where others curfe and never ceafe to rayle.
Thye
of Hell
60.
Thye daintie nofe, which had perfumes ech daye,
A lothfome ftenche for ever muft abyde,
Which rifeth vpp from dampned bodies aye,
That heaped their doe lye on euerie fyde :
Loe here the fweete thie fmellinge to content,
Noe worldlie filth can yeld fo fowle a fent.
61.
Thye curyous taft doth hunger their fuftaine,
Which did in meates fuch rare devifes crave,
With burninge thirft thou fuffreft grevous paine,
And yt to coole noe water thou canft haue :
Noe dropp is their, thie thirftinge for to eafe,
Noe hope of helpe that maye thie grefe appeafe.
62.
Thye feelinge yett the greateft paine doth beare :
With fierie flames which all thie partes torment,
An extreame cow Id thou allfo fmdeft their,
With gnafliing teeth that makes thee to lament :
Thie teares with heat in ftreames are day lie medd,
Thie teeth for cowld doe chatter in thie hedd.
E If
Ofthepaines
63-
If for a while noe creature can endure
In earthly fiere one member for to bee,
What torments doe thy pafled Joyes procure,
In endlefle flames thy members all to fee ! [breed,
What greefe, what paine, what forrowes doe they
Which earthly flames in all doe farre exceede !
64.
The deiuills with flouts doe lough the now to fcorne,
Thy flefh and bones in funder they doe teare,
Thy curfed fkinne with cruell whipes is worne,
Thy woefull harte is filled full with feare :
With inwarde woe thy foule is fore opprefte,
With outward paine thy body finds no refte.
65-
Thy torments ft range doe breede thee bitter greefe,
And refte in thine Imagination ftill,
Thyne owne conceipte which now fhould yeld releefe,
Doth labour more with forrow thee to fill : [chew,
Thou thinkeft moft what moft thou whouldft ef-
Thy griefe thy thoughts, and thoughts thy griefe
renew. Thy
of Hell.
66.
Thy memory doth call vnto thy mynde
The fhorte delight of all thy pleafures paft,
Yt wounds thy harte thefe paines for them to finde,
Which greueous are and mail for euer laft :
Thy defperate cafe no comfort can obtaine,
Thy pafled Joyes encreafe thy prefet paine.
67.
Thine vnderftandinge doth thy mifery mew,
And telleth thee thou arte in Sathans Jawes,
For fhorte delights, thy lofle yt makes thee know,
And in thy fbule the worme of Confcience gnawes :
Thofe fadinge Joyes in rage thou doft defye,
And in difpight they make thee thus to crye.
68.
" My former Joy a flhadow was in deede,
It did not laft, but pafled quicke away,
My prefent paine all meafure doth exceede,
Noe witt nor arte my torments can bewray :
A time there was when blifle I might haue woone,
But time is paft, and all my courfe is runne.
O
Of the paines
69.
" O curfed time, in which I time forfooke,
A litle paine had ridd me of my woe !
O curfed Joyes in which I pleafure tooke,
For pleafinge you all pleafures I forgoe !
And here in hell each kinde of paine I finde,
Which wafts my fleam and wounds my woefull
mynde.
70.
" Yf I my finnes with forrowe had confeft,
They had to me bene clene remitted all :
In ftead of greefe, I glorie had pofleft,
If I for grace had bent my minde to call :
O wretched wretch, that for fo fmall a paine,
Refufinge bliffe, in torment muft remaine.
71.
" The greateft ioyes which doe in earth abound
Can in a world not yeld fo much delight
As here by paine is in a moment found,
Whofe blafinge woe is prefent ftill in fight :
What fancie then bewitched my wretched harte,
For fained Joyes to fuffer endlefle fmarte.
My
of Hell.
72.
" My parents were the cawfers of my woe,
And all the meate on which I euer fedd,
My carnall frind hath proued my greateft foe,
And vnto mee this mifchefe now hath bredd :
Accufe mee all that hathe my ruine wrought,
And euerie meane which mee to beinge brought.
73-
<f Thrife happie they on earthe that never were !
Their ftate is bleft that never came to Hue !
O blefled wombes that chilldren never bare !
O happie breft which fuck did never geve !
O deadlie paine ! O moft unhappie place !
O curfed wretch whome ill mifhapps imbrace !''
74-
Loe here the plaints in this infernall lake,
Wher Scorpions ftinge and fquorges thee torment,
Wher hammers beate, and Devils a roringe make,
Wher hope is paft and dampned foules lament :
Wher wormes doecrawleand uglie ferpents creepe,
Wher paines abound, and forrowes make thee
weepe. Againft
Of the paines
75-
Againft our Lord thou raieft with defpight,
And him thou doft with raginge words defie,
Thou barred art from feeinge anie light,
And while ye Hue thou muft for ever die :
Loeherethe fruite which worldlie pleafures bringe,
Thie paines agree in meafure with thie finne.
76.
Thye fweet delights are come to woe and wrack,*
Thie happie ftate unto a wretched cafe,
Thie gredie minde is punnifht here with lack,
Thie lecherous armes doe uglie fends imbrace :
Thie envious fowle doth howle for deadlie paine,
Thie haughtie harte doth fuffer depe difdaine.
77-
Thou findeft fmart in ftead of pleafaunt games,
Thie daintie wynes are turnd to bitter gall,
Thie coftlie clothes are now made burning flames,
Thie loftie pride hath now a lothfome fall :
Thou nothinge doft which maye afford thee eafe,
But feeleft all which maye thee moft difpleafe.
Yet
of Hell
78.
Yet cheiflie one which farre doth all exceade,
And as it is none rightlie can efteme,
It greves thee moft and makes thie harte to bleed,
And joynd with it the other nothinge feeme :
Then judge what paine this torture brings to thee,
When matche to it all nothinge femes to bee.
79-
Thye fcences feele for everie finne a paine,
So rated their as here thou tokft delight,
And now for that our Lord doth thee difdaine,
Thou bannifht art for ever from his fight :
The paine of fcence fmall torment thou doft finde,
When thou this lofle doft call unto thie minde.
80.
A grevious lofle which cannot be expreft !
O caufe of greife and fpringe of deadlie woe,
The Soule hath loft the center of her reft,
Thie hope, thie helpe, thie life thou muft forgoe :
Noe paine or lofle with this maye be comparde,
It pafleth all and cannot be declared.
From
Of the paines
81.
From hope of joye this is an endlefle barr,
And greateft plague that God on finn beftowes :
Compard with this thy tortures pleafaunt are,
And all thie lofle an eafie burthen fhowes :
Thie bittreft paines are trifles in thine eyes,
Thie burninge flames thou feemeft to defpife.
82.
What woe, what fmarte, what paine can be expreft,
Which wayteth now on thee for to be layde !
With fwordes of greefe thie harte is daylye preft,
With dreadfull feare thie fcences are difmayde :
Thie eie hath loft what moft me did defire,
Thie bodie burnes in flames of endlefle fire.
83.
And yf thie paines an endinge might obtaine,
When yeres their were of manie thoufandes runn,
As on the earthe have lightten dropps of rayne,
Since firft of all this wretched world begunn : [minde,
Some helpe this hope might bringe unto thie
When hope were left an end at laft to finde.
But
of Hell.
But of them all noe eafe nor end thou haft,
Within thie foule fome comforte might procure :
Noe tyme will helpe thie forrowes for to wafte,
While God is God thie torture (hall indure :
Thie paine in truth is more then can be tould,
The fight in thought noe creature can unfould.
85.
O dyinge lyfe ! O fea of endlefle fmarte !
Which nature hates and all thinges ellfe deteft,
O lyvinge death, noe life or death thou arte,
For death hath end and life hathe fometyme reft :
The worft of both our Lord hath put in thee
That neythef reft nor end might other bee.
86.
O dampned foule ! howe doft thou roare and crye !
What deadlie greefes thee daylie doe opprefle !
But lyft a whyle thie curfed eies on hye,
And fee what ioyes the blefled their poflefle :
That by the fight, thie torments maye increafe,
And for thie lofle thie forrowes neuer ceafe.
F And
Of the ioyes
87.
And firft behould the beawtie of the place,
Wher all the Saintes with Chrift in glorie raigne,
Wher honor is not mixed with difgrace,
Wher ioye is free from tafk of anie paine :
Wher great rewards attend on good defarts,
And all delightes pofefleth faithfull harts.
88.
O wicked wretche ! This cittie now behould,
Which doth furppafle the reache of anie thought,
The gates are pearle, the ftreetes are fyneft gould,
With precious ftones the walles are wholie wrought :
Of Sunn and Moone it needeth not the light,
For ever their the Lambe is fhining bright.
89.
And from His feate a chriftall river flowes,
Wher life doth runn, and pleafures ever fpringes :
On everye fyde a tree of comforte growes,
Which favinge helthe to everie nation bringes :
It worketh reft, and ftinteth worldlie ftryfe,
It flieth death, and bringeth endlefle life.
This
of Heauen.
go.
This goodlie place all beawtie doth furmount,
And all this world in largenefle paffeth farr :
The earth it felfe in bignes in account
Not equall is unto the fmalleft ftarr :
O worthie place whofe glorie doth excell !
Thrife happie they that their attaines to dwell !
91.
Noe Sainte their is but brighter feemes to bee
Then Sunn or moone whofe beawties wonders breede :
What glorie then fo manie Saintes to fee,
Which all the ftarrs in number farr excede !
All glorious their wher glorie doth abound,
O blefTed ftate wher blifle is ever found !
92.
Archangells are but underfarvaunts there,
And Anngells doe their makers will obaye,
The powers in ioye with triumpth doe appere,
The beawties mine, the thrones their beames difplaye :
The Cherubins doe yeld a famous light,
The Seraphins with love are burninge fhininge
bright. Here
Of the ioyes
93-
Here Patriarkes haue their ioye for all their paine,
The Prophets eke with endlefle glorie bleft,
The Martirs doe a worthie crowne obtaine,
The Virgins finde a hauen of happie reft :
To all their ioyes in glorie they are mett,
And now pofeffe what longe they fought to gett.
i
94-
Thofe facred Saintes remaine in perfect peace,
Which Chrift confeft and walked in his wayes,
They fwim in blifle which now mail never ceace,
And finginge all, his name for ever prayfe :
Before his throne in white they daylie ftand,
And carrie palmes of triumpth in their handes.
95-
The Angells then are next in their degree,
Whofe order is in number to be nyne,
Noe harte can think what ioye it is to fee
Howe all thofe troupes with Jampes in glorie mine :
The ioye is more then wrytinge can exprefTe :
O happie eies that maye thefe ioyes pofeffe !
Above
of Heauen.
96.
Above them all the Viregin hath a place,
Which cawfd the world with comfort to abound :
The beames doe mine in her unfpotted face,
And with the ftarres her head is richlye crownd :
In glory fhee all creatures pafleth farr :
The moone her fhooes, the funn her garments are.
97-
O Queene of Heauen ! o pure and glorious fight !
Moft blefled thou above all womenn arte !
This cittie druncke thou makeft with delight,
And with thie beames reioyfeft everie harte :
Our blifTe was loft and yt thou didft reftore,
The Anngells all and menn doe thee adore.
98.
Loe ! here the looke which Anngells doe admire !
Loe ! here the fpringe from whom all goodnesflowes !
Loe ! here the fight that menn and Saintes defire !
Loe ! here the ftalks on which our comfort growes !
Loe this is fhee whom heaven and earth imbrace,
Whom God did choofe and filled full of grace.
And
Of the ioyes
99.
And next to her, but in a higher throne,
Our Saviour in his manhode fiftieth here :
From whom proceedes all perfect ioye alone,
And in whofe face all glorie doth appere :
The Saintes delight conceyved cannot bee,
When they a man the Lord of Anngells fee.
100.
They ravifhed are with ioye in feeinge this,
How Chrift our Lord the higheft place obtaines
They now behould the feate of endlefle blifle,
And ioye to marke how hee in triumpth raynes :
What ioye to menn moreover can befall
Then here to fee a man the Lord of all ?
IOI.
More ioye yt yeldes then anie can devife,
A greater blifle then may in words be tould,
His perfinge beames doth dazell all their eies,
His brightnes fcharce his Anngells can behould :
The Saintes in him their wifhed comfort finds,
And now inioye what moft content their minds.
To
of Heauen.
102.
To thinke on this yt pafleth humaine witt :
The more we thinke the lefle we come to knowe :
He dothe uppon his Fathers right hand fitt,
And all ye Saintes their humble far vice mowe :
His fight to them doth endlefle comfort bringe,
And they to him all prayfes euer finge.
103.
O worthie place, wher fuche a Lord is cheife !
O glorious Lord, which princelye farvaunts keepes!
O happie Saintes, which never taft of greife !
O blefled ftate, wher malice ever fleepes !
Noe one is here of bafe or meane degree,
But all are knowne the fonns of God to bee.
104.
What higher place can anye prince attaine,
Then fonne to him which ruleth all above ?
Yet is their ftate not fubiect to difdaine,
But in their mindes like brethren they doe love :
Noe place is left for anie hate, or feare,
But here they all one harte and foule doe beare.
O
Of the ioyes
105.
O happie place, wher difcord never fights !
The ioyes of all are found in everie breft,
For ech as much in others ioye delights,
As if alone it in him felfe did reft :
In all their ioyes noe difference is their knowne,
For ech accounts them all to be his owne.
1 06.
And thofe they taft wherwith their Lord abounds :
As parte of theirs his glorie doe they take,
Unto them felues by union it redownds,
And all his ioyes their glorie perfect make :
So fafte are knitt the members to the head,
As over them his ioyes are whollie fpredd.
107.
What ioye is beft which here they doe not finde ?
What greater blifle, what pleafure maye be more ?
What can by us conceyved be in minde
Which hath not bene recited here before ?
Yet one delight behinde as yet remaines,
Which all in all, and all in it containes.
They
of Heauen.
108.
They face to face doe God Almightie fee!
And all in him as in a perfect glaiTe:
Noe good their is, but their is found to bee,
And all delightes this vifion doth furpafle.
Ech fight doth yeld the hart her perfect reft,
Becaufe noe good without him is pofleft.
109.
Hee prefent, paft, and future thinges doth fhewe,
And theirfore refts their underftandinge here :
Their nothinge is but they in him doe knowe,
And to their eies all plainlye doth appere :
They now obteyne what longe they fought to gett,
And all their thoughtes are on him wholie fett.
I 10.
Their will doth laft in lovinge of his fight,
In which confifts all good that cann be thought,
Shee here hathe fixt her love and whole delight,
And never will from lovinge this be brought :
For here all good and goodnes doth abound,
And never can without this good be found.
G Their
Of the ioyes
in.
Their whole defire from hence doth never parte,
But fetled here for ever doth abyde :
This fight doth fill the mouth of everie harte,
And nothing leaves for them to wime befyde :
Without defire, content fhee ftill remaines,
And her defire with full delight obtaines.
112.
Their Faith behouldes her beft beloved gueft,
And her beleefe this fight doth here fullfill :
Their conftante Hope her hope hath now pofeft,
And him inioyes for whom fhee hoped ftill :
Their Charitie, not perfect full before,
To perfect ftate this vifion doth reftore.
O glorious fight ! O fome of endlefle blifle !
Which never wanes, nor feemeth for to wafte :
Whoe ever fawe foe fayer a fight as this,
Whoe ever did fuche heapes of comfort tafte ?
What can be thought that can not here be hadd ?
Where all doe ioye, and none are euer fadd.
They
of Heauen.
114.
They here poflefle what maye content them moft,
And nothinge wante that perfect blifle maye bringe :
With all delight here breathes the Holye Ghoft,
Which allwayes makes a freme and endlefle (pringe :
Noe daye is here, noe morninge, noone, nor night,
But ever one and allwayes fhininge bright.
115.
O blefled ioyes, which all the fbules pofeffe !
O happie fruite, that vertue here hath wonne !
And in degrees the bodies finde noe lefle,
But mine with beames farr brighter then the funn :
Not fubiect now to ficknes, greife, or paine,
But glorious all, immortall they remaine.
116.
And propper ioyes ech fence in private fyndes :
Their eyes behould that paflinge glorious fight,
Wher nothinge wantes for to content their mindes,
And all thinges elce which maye them moft delight:
Their eares are fedd with hearingeoffweete foundes,
And them to pleafe all mufick here aboundes.
From
Of the ioyes
117.
From fonges of praife the Saintes noe moment fpare :
Noe teares are feene nor anie their doe weepe :
But in this place the mufick is fo rare
As halfe a found would bringe all hartes a fleepe :
And everie fence a propper pleafure takes,
Which ioynd in one, their glorie perfect makes.
118.
Noe eie hath feene what ioyes the Saintes obtaine,
Nor eare hath hard what comforts are pofeft :
Noe harte can thinke in what delight they raigne,
Nor penn exprefle their happie porte of reft,
Wher pleafure flowes, and greife is never fene,
Wher good abounds, and ill is bannifht cleane.
119.
And of thofe ioyes noe creature end mail fee :
The longer tyme the fweeter they doe fhowe :
While God indures they can not ended bee,
And never wafte, but allwayfe feeme to growe :
When worldes are worne, and millions manie pafte,
They now begin and mail for ever laft.
O
ofHeauen.
120.
O ftate of ioye, wher endlefle ioye remaines !
O haven of blifle, wher none doth fuffer wrack !
O happie howfe, which all delight containes !
O bleffed ftate, which never feeleth lack !
O goodlie tree, which fruite dothe ever beare !
O quyett ftate, which dannger neede not feare !
121.
O mixture pure, which bafeft drofTe refynes !
O pleafaunte place, which onlie comforte bringes !
O ioyefull funn, wher glorie ever fhines !
O fruitfull foyle, wher pleafure ever fpringes !
O glorious foules ! O bodies wholie bleft !
O fea of good, and of all good the beft !
122.
O dampned wretch ! the thought of this alone
Oppreffeth thee with heapes of deadlie care,
And fighinge now in fperitt thou doft grone,
When with their blifle thie woe thou doft compare :
Thie greevous lofle dothe greive thie wretched
harte,
And yt with greefe redoubles all thie fmarte.
Of the ioyes
123.
If all the world by conqueft thou hadft wonne,
A trifle now thou thinkeft all to geve,
That on the earth thie race were new to runn,
And thou againe wert fuffered here to lyve :
Another courfe thou wouldft refblve to take,
And farvinge God thie carnall will forfake.
124.
The ftraighteft life thou woldft noe paine efteme,
Thie prayinge wold a paffinge ioye appere,
Thie faftinge ofte noe treble then would feme,
Nor anie greife the hardeft penaunce here :
A ioye thou woldft account the fharpeft paine,
To fcape from Hell and endlefle blifle obtaine.
125.
Now muft I call, O worldlie man ! to thee,
The end wher firft I did begin to wrighte,
That all thefe ioyes and paines which thou doft fee
May move thie minde to leade thie lyfe upright :
Thie harte will melt to thinke uppon thie cafe,
If their be left but halfe a fparke of grafe.
Thou
ofHeauen.
126.
Thou findeft here what thou wilt wime att laft,
And that account which none can ever fhunn:
Then frame thie life before thie tyme be paft,
As thou wilt wifhe that thou in tyme hadft donne :
Left thou in vaine doft waile thie wretched ftate,
When tyme is paft and waylinge comes too late.
L. i
PR
2349
1895
I
Southwell, Robert
A f ovre-f ovld meditation
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