A Treasury of Divine Raptures, Epigrams · Epigrams C · Epigram 378 – Epigram 489
379. On Covetouſneſs.
COvetiſe of all evils is the root,
Hence diſcontent and other miſchiefs ſprout;
Theft, Treaſon, Murder, wilful Perjury,
Fraud, Brib'ry, Whoredom, foul Idolatry.
Horrid oppreſſion, quarrelſome debates,
And the ſubverſion of mighty States.
O what a curſed ſin baſe avarice is,
In that it is the parent of all vices.
Lord, what a monſter 'tis! who would not fly it?
Mans body it deprives of reſtful quiet,
Of peace his conſcience, his ſoul of grace,
And leaves him in a miſerable caſe.
Since then th'effects of coveting is ſuch,
Better it were to want, than have too much.
How ſad is it to have a Sea of ſin,
And not a drop of mercy enter in
The heart! the reaſon why the word avails
No more, is avarice, the ſeed oft falls
Among rough thorns; the ſprouting thorns (we read)
Choaked the good diſſeminated ſeed
Thouſands of Sermons buried lye (alas!)
In earthly hearts, hearts that this world embrace.
Covetize always is ſparing in giving,
But how exceſſive is it in receiving!
Gold guides the Globe of earth, and covetize
Runs round about the world; they riches prize,
Who careful are to get, deſirous to
Keep riches, and are loth to let them goe:
Gain is indifferent in it ſelf ſtill,
The uſe is good, but the abuſe is ill,
The care is worſe, the conqueſt vile and baſe,
The gain of Gold make many men (alas!)
To loſe their Souls, by being over-ſavings,
Thouſands are loſt, yet there's no end of having.
What men get, like the Polypus they hold,
Some ſtudy the black Art for yellow Gold;
Deſire of gain ſcarce ever yet did good,
This hath made ſome ſwim to the crown in blood,
What numbers hath it caus'd Phyſitians to
Deſtroy? what numbers Lawyers to undo:
It hath not only multitudes undone,
But it is beneficial to none.
Covetous men while they themſelves enrich,
Debaſe themſelves, making themſelves a pitch
Low'r than their Angels, as God made them lower
Then his bright Angels, both in will & power,
He is ſo miſerably ſordid, that
So his Coffers be fill'd, and his eſtate
May thrive, he is content to let his name
Lye dead and buried, he regards not fame.
The gripling Miſer for a fool may go,
He thinks Gods treaſury too empty to
Content him, he Gods glory never ſees,
And will not truſt him on bare promiſes,
As God (which never will leave his) he leaves
So to the world (which cannot help) he cleaves,
Better then his own ſoul, the rich fool loves
His Gold, and within his own circle moves,
He wrinckles and contracts (by ſaving charges)
His body, by this means his purſe enlarges:
He to himſelf will ſcarce a meal afford,
But is a conſtant gheſt at Satans board.
No marvail he hear not mens craving wants,
When he himſelf is deaf to the complaints
Of his own belly, to which he is ever
Endebted, and is like to pay it never:
He never paid his belly nor his back,
A quarter of their dues, he loves no Sack,
Nor Cates, the ſmalleſt beer, the courſeſt meat,
Is good enough for him to drink or eat:
Prides vanity he doth ſo much deteſt,
Which doth eſteem the deareſt things the beſt,
That he thinks nothing ſweet but what is cheap;
Gold is the thing he dreams on in his ſleep,
Which is but little, Gold and Silver are
His Idol, which the heathens Idols were:
He hath the Silver Dropſie, he implores
More ſtill, Gold is the goddeſs he adores,
He thinks all fleſh that comes within his Nets,
Nor cares he how he gets; but what he gets:
He is no niggard of his labour, or
A time-neglector, ſloth he doth abhor,
It's ever term with him, his buſineſs
Admits of no vacation, nothing leſs
Than Holy-dayes he loves, the greater gain,
Is ſtill attended with the greater pain,
He often ſayes, but yet he is not pleas'd,
As he is never fill'd, ſo never eas'd.
He findeth no Soul-ſatisfaction;
And is when all is done, a man undone:
Riches have many wretches drown'd in this
World, Sea, and kept them from the ſhore of bliſs:
Riches are thieviſh, ſtealing unawares
The heart, and Satans ſoul entrapping ſna…es.
The Miſer digs to hell for wealth, ſo that
The Devil is his next neighbour: O hard fate!
On earth himſelf he heavens, and himſelf
Of bliſs he couzens, for a little pelf,
Reſt from his own bones, he himſelf hath ſtole,
Peace from his conſcience, grace from his ſoul,
And is not he a Thief? nothing can fill
Th'unfathom'd gulf of his inſatiat will.
This Horſe-leech cries, give, give, this Cormoran…
The more he doth deſire, the more doth want,
The dunghil Witch, troubled with Midas Itch,
Becomes a beggar by becoming rich;
Nay, worldly men more miſerable are
Than Beggars, theſe want little, have leſs care,
They much, and till they dye no good do doe,
Who is rich? he that covets nothing? who
Is poor? the covetous; he is not poor
Which enjoys little, but deſireth more.
There's many have too much, ſcarce one but wiſhes
For more, the ſea ſufficeth all the fiſhes;
The Earth ſufficeth all the beaſts likewiſe,
But the whole world cannot one man ſuffice.
Wild Beaſts are filled, and do ſpare the prey,
But Miſers are inſatiable, they
Like hell, ſay never 'tis enough, but having
Too much already, ſtill for more are craving:
The miſerable man himſelf unbleſſes,
By not injoying that which he poſſeſſes;
What benefit is there of Gold while 'tis
Embowell'd in the Mine? wealth worthleſs is
If it ſo hoarded up, and cloyſtred be
In Coffers, as the light it never ſee.
How well may the rich churl be likened to
A Chriſtmas-box, chink he receives, but lo
He parts with none, till death this box uncaſe,
Then Gold and Silver tumbles out a pace:
Camels bear but one burden, rich men two,
Wealth, ſin, and that in death he muſt forgoe
This in and after death, ſticks faſt t'his back,
And will be to him an eternal Rack.
Deſire, diſtruſt, fear, vain hope, and diſpair are
His tort'ring furies, juſt, as if he were
In Phal'ris burning Bull, he that's a ſlave
To his own ſervant, ſhall bad uſage have:
He that is once Chriſts ſervant, will not be
A ſlave to Mammon, the worlds deity.
It is obſervable, two things perplex
The whole world, Mine, and Thine, riches do vex,
For they are Thornes; riches do flee away,
For they have wings, nor can we with them ſtay:
To fly from avarice is to obtain
A Kingdom; godlineſs is the beſt gain:
He muſt be maſter of his wealth that is
Gods ſervant, O if Heaven that place of bliſs,
Becomes our object, the earth will become
Our abject, and the iſſues of her womb.
The Miſer fears not God, nor honors man,
He thinketh that Religion, which can
Make beſt for his advantage, is the beſt;
What brings him in no gain he doth deteſt,
He will Gehazi like, bare bribes away,
And will with Judas for a gift betray
His Lord and Maſter, and ſay with him too,
Why is this waſte, when ſome good any do:
His chiefeſt good he judgeth riches ſtill,
And poverty fears as the greateſt ill;
Money is his creator, when wealths had
In great abundance, then he thinks he's made:
It's his Redeemer, when woes on him thruſt,
He flies t'his money, that redeem him muſt:
It is his comforter, when he is ſad,
He tells his money, and that makes him glad.
He with his golden harps expells away
The evil ſpirit, you may truly ſay,
When you ſee one who doth his Gold prefer
Before God, there goes an Idolater,
Care is the Vultur gnaws upon his heart,
And he damns his own ſelf t' Ixions ſmart
On conſcience tort'ring wheel; he's evermore
Like Tantalus, ſtarved in the midſt of ſtore,
He'l go on errands to the Devil, ſo gaines
Send him, and well reward him for his pains:
His wretched mind bends to no point but this,
He who hath moſt of wealth, hath moſt of bliſs.
As he is good to none, ſo is he worſt
T'himſelf, he lives abhorr'd, and dies accurſt.
Philoſophers affirm that Mines of Gold,
Are always fruitleſs, and the Devils Freehold:
So are thoſe minds that Gold admire do,
Barren, and haunted by the Devil too.
380. On a Cough.
A Cough cannot be hid no more (they ſay)
Can love, external ſigns do them bewray.
381. On a Coulter.
DId not the coulter cut the earth, the ſhare
Were uſeleſs, and the ground no Corn would bare
So till manur'd by grace, we barren are.
382. On Counſel.
1.
CHriſt is a Counſellour, directing ſtill
His Clients, how to manage and tranſact
All their deſigns according to the Will
And Law of God; his wiſdom can effect
Great things, in Heavens decrees he is well read,
He knows our ſtate and caſe, and how to plead.
2.
Chriſt faithful is, to tell the naked truth,
And if the cauſe be bad, he will not plead it.
Bribes cannot blind his eyes, nor ſtop his mouth;
Men ſlight his peoples cauſe, but he doth heed it.
Though he be offer'd by the Prince of Hell,
All the Worlds glory, ſouls he will not ſell.
3.
Chriſt he is the beſt ſpoken Counſellour,
Never man ſpake in Earths rotundity
So ſweetly; and with ſuch convincing power,
And ſo authoritatively as he.
Chriſt Jeſus doth all Counſellours ſurpaſs,
If he plead for us, happy is our caſe.
4.
He that acts nothing but with good adviſe,
Need not repent him when the deed is paſt;
Who raſhly ſets upon an enterpriſe,
Repents by leiſure what was done in haſte.
Fond Epimetheus locks the Stable dore,
When the Steed's ſtole, Prometheus before.
5.
Figulus having loſt the Conſulſhip,
Thus to his friends then comforting him, ſpake,
All (now you ſee my honour from me ſlip)
Can give me counſel, but ye cannot make
Me Conſul: if we could events foreſee,
Great evils timely might prevented be.
383. On the Countenance.
'TIs the Index of the mind,
Shewing how we are inclin'd,
Grace more pleaſes, if it glance
From a comely countenance▪
But a heart that ſhines with grace,
Doth ſurpaſs the faireſt face.
Gratior eſt pulchro veniens è corpore virtus.
384. On a Counter.
A Counter is of ſmall account, ſo we
Are little worth, till ſanctifi'd we be.
385. On a Counterfeit.
A Kiſs preceded glozing Judas Treaſon,
Counterfeit ſhews, are never out of ſeaſon,
And oftentimes tranſcend the bounds of reaſon
A counterfeit Religion ſhall find
A real Hell, for Hypocrites aſſign'd,
How bleſt are they whoſe hearts with grace are lin'd!
386. On a Countermine.
SAtan will countermine us, if we do
Dig for ſalvations Mine, malicious ſo!
387. On a Counterpane.
GLory is for the Saints, writings are drawn
And ſeal'd, holineſs is the Counterpane.
388. On a Counter-poyſon.
WHat though I have a ſin-envenom'd ſoul,
Chriſt's bloud by faith appli'd, can make me whole.
389. On Countervail.
SHort-liv'd affliction, cannot countervail
Triumphant glory, which ſhall never fail.
390. On County.
GOds gifts abound in ev'ry County,
But O, how few admire his bounty.
391. On Country.
WHat thou here on us many ſorrows come,
We are but ſtrangers, Heaven is our home,
Ours by the Fathers Ordination;
Ours freely purchas'd for us by the Son;
Ours ſealed to us by the Holy-Ghoſt,
To our own country, we apace do poſt:
Though now we be but wards, and not poſſeſt
Of it, yet are we Heirs to it at leaſt:
When we to perfect growth in grace attain,
We ſhall a plenary poſſeſſion gain.
God give us grace, to find repentance way,
That come to our own home, at laſt we may.
392. On a Couple.
A Pair of Pigeons, or two Turtle-doves,
God will accept, who free-will offrings loves,
393. On Courage.
FOrtitude is the faireſt bloſſom that
Springs from a noble mind, its heat and hate
Conquers the enemy before the field
Be fought in; Valiant Saints makes Satan yield,
It is a noble Conqueſt to o'rethrow
A po…ent Foe, and never ſtrike a blow.
394. On a Courſe.
THe whole courſe of our living muſt
Be loving, let us never thruſt
Love out of doors; many will talk
Of love; few love in Love to walk.
395. On a Courſer.
WHat ſpeed the courſer makes, we have a race
To run, O why do we not mend our pace?
The prize is glory, which is won by grace.
396. On a Courtier.
PErfumed Silk-worms, ſhining bubbles,
That Pedlars ſhops about them bear,
Frequent the place of glorious troubles,
Sad coming were ſuch anticks are!
Better be in Gods Court a Porter,
Than dwell where gliſtring ſinners quarter.
397. On a Couſener.
A Man may couſen man unſeen,
But God will not be mock'd,
He hath a Key to let him in,
Although the heart be lock'd,
Lord! I confeſs my ſins to thee,
O be thou pleas'd to pardon me.
398. On a Cowl.
AN ag'd Matron neer her end,
Did requeſt her Belgick friend,
A bald Friar's crown t'extend
Over her, (as ſayes the ſtory:)
E're ſhe was of life bereaven,
That her ſins might be forgiven,
And her Soul might paſs to Heaven,
Without entering Purgatory:
O how ſad are their condition,
Who are kept in ſuperſtition!
399. On a Cow.
GOd's word t'our ſouls doth ſincere Milk allow
For nouriſhment, not ſo the vb'rous Cow.
400. On a Coward.
SAtan is like a French-man, bold at firſt,
Reſiſt him, and you'l put him to the worſt.
401.
On a Crabfiſh.
On a Crabtree.
HOw many in Religions trade,
Do like the Crab-fiſh retrograde,
And like the Crab-free can produce,
No fruits but ſow'r, ſarce fit for uſe.
402. On a Cradle.
SEcuritie's a Cradle, we muſt keep
Strict watch, leſt Satan lull us faſt aſleep.
403. On Craft.
SAtan, who hath ſo long a Tempter been,
Hath gain'd experience, now he Tempts to ſin,
Under a ſhew of piety, anon
He work's upon our conſtitution;
Having commenc'd Maſter of his black Art,
His knowledge to his ſons he doth impart.
The crafti'ſt head that miſchiefs can produce,
The Dev'l doth chooſe, as fitteſt for his uſe,
But ſuch as Pol'ticks learn in Plutoe's Schools,
At laſt prove doters, and lean-witted fools.
404. On Cramming.
OUr bodies are well-cramm'd, and pampered,
Whilſt our ſouls pine for want of living bread.
405. On the Cramp.
THe Cramp contracts and pulls the ſinnews in,
So grace checks ſinners, who run mad in ſin.
406. On a Crane.
I Muſt be wratchful as the Thracian fowl,
Or elſe the Devil will ſurprize my Soul.
407. On a Crany.
A Fault in others through the ſmalleſt crany,
Is ſeen, and talk'd of, but alas! ſcarce any,
See & confeſs their own, though they have many.
408. On a Craſineſs.
GOd ſets us work to do, our ſouls are lazy,
And want of ſtirring, makes them ſick and crazy.
409. On a Cratch.
O Strange! he that did in his wiſdom ſtretch
Th'heav'ns out, lay cradled in a ſimple cratch
410. On Craving.
OUr wants are great, the only way of having
Them ſtill ſuppli'd, is to be always craving.
411. On a Creaking noiſe.
MAn not regards the creaking of a Cart,
Nor God the pray'rs of an ungracious heart.
412. On a Greak.
HOw many ſouls are there that ſpring a leak,
And ſuffer Ship-wrack er'e they touch the creak!
413. On Cream.
GOd's word is Milk, the Hearer is the Boul
To keep it in, ev'ry gracious ſoul,
It turns to Cream, which he in praiſes, pray'rs,
Doth offer up to God's attentive eares.
414. On Creation.
ONe ask'd why man was made; made this reply,
To view the Heavens, and to magnifie
God in his creatures; him Philoſophers
Call'd Ʋranoſcopus, viewing the Stars.
God opes his Cabinet, and gives us eyes
To view his Treas'ry, alſo hearts to prize,
And tongues to praiſe his goodneſs, for beſtowing
All things on us to whom our ſouls are owing.
The worlds a Book, wherein a general ſtory,
God reads to us dumb lectures of his glory,
All creatures teach, and ſomewhat us inform,
From th'higheſt Angel to the loweſt worm;
The world's a Glaſs, wherein we may diſcern
Our Makers majeſty, and viewing learn
T'admire and praiſe him, which if we forbear
To do, like Stones, and Beaſts, and Devils we are.
The creatures are the ſtaires by which we may
Climb up, and ſo the glorious power ſurvey
Of the Creator: Bees from ev'ry flower
Suck Honey, pious Chriſtians evermore,
From ev'ry action, or event deduce
What they convert to admirable uſe.
All objects to a contemplative man,
Are like wings to his thoughts, which raiſe him can
Upward to Heaven, as the old Romans when
They ſaw blue ſtones, thought of Olympus, then
Intentively obſerve the works of Nature,
Then ſerve attentively the worlds Creator:
Let us by each preſented object thrive
In grace, ſome profit to our ſelves derive,
In this be ſelfiſh: O ſhall we ſtill plod
On the great Volume of the works of God,
And never throughly learn to ſpell one word
Which benefit, and comfort may afford?
Shall we ſtill pore on Natures book (alas!)
And ne're tranſlate it to the Book of grace,
As ſome have done? O what rare melodie
Is there in Heaven, if earthly Muſi…k be
So ſweet! if pomp attend a Court below,
Surely Gods Court will make a glorious ſhow:
O bleſſed object, and obſerved well,
That makes the muſing Soul, in grace t'excell!
415. On Credence.
ASſent and giving credence to
All that the Scripture ſaith,
Concerning Chriſt, who ſuffer'd ſo,
Precedent is to Faith.
416. On Credit.
AS of our conſcience we muſt have a care,
So likewiſe of our credit, never dare
Unſeemly things, Saints have a laſting name,
When ſinners reputation turns to ſhame:
It's a good thing to have praiſe to us carv'd,
But it's a better to have praiſe deſerv'd:
This credit wealth cannot procure, but grace,
Not goods but goodneſs; happy is his caſe,
Whoſe own heart not condemns him, ſuch as do
Honour the Lord, he them will honour too.
417. On a Creditor.
GOd is a Creditor, he lends
Us time and talents to improve,
Which who ſo miſimploys miſpends,
Provokes to wrath the God of Love.
Sin is a debt, our Creditor is juſt,
And if our ſurety pay it not, we muſt.
418. On Credulity.
TIs a vice to believe nothing, or none;
All things, or all, that is ſaid to be done:
A cred'lous man is to a fool a kin,
Believing all he hears, this brings ſtrife in,
A wiſeman will not at the firſt rebound,
Take a report, Truth is by ſifting found.
419. On the Creed.
YOu that have heard ſo much of Chriſt, can pray,
Yet cannot with humble adherence ſay,
My Jeſus, and my Lord, I tell you true,
The Devil can ſay his Creed as well as you:
Lord, I believe not only that thou art,
And what thou ſayſt, but in thee, may I part
With all for thee, and from thee never ſtart.
420. On Creeping.
IN ſin (alas!) our motion is not ſlow,
In duty, oh! how creepingly we goe.
421. On a Creſſet-light.
LOrd! ſet the Beacon of my heart on fire
With Holy zeal, and let the flame aſpire
To thee, the higheſt Orb of my deſire.
422. On a Creſt.
SUch as do go with an elated Creſt,
Shall be caſt down, but ſuch as are depreſt
With ſenſe of ſin, ſhall be advanc'd and bleſt.
423. On a Crib.
OH! if the Aſs her Maſters crib doth know,
Man ſhould know God, who all the world doth ow:
His Maker, his Redeemer, who ſupplies,
His wants, and pities his infirmities.
424. On a Cricket.
AS merry as a Cricket one may be,
Whoſe heart is fill'd with dire perplexity.
425. On a Crier.
GOds Miniſters are Criers, and they dare not
But crie aloud, & ſhew to men and ſpare not
Their horrid ſins, dumb Preachers that betray
Their truſt, ſhall be condemned another day.
426. On a Crime.
THe bloud of Chriſt can expiate a fault,
Not to be purg'd with Brimſtone, Fire, & Salt
427. On a Cripple.
ADam became a Cripple by his fall,
Hence lame in holy duties are we all;
But ſome belong to Jeſus Hoſpital.
428. On a Critick.
IT's eaſier to find fault then
To imitate; the tranſverſe pen
Of ſnarling Mome daſhes this out,
And Ariſtarch at that doth pout.
My Soul condemn thy ſelf; and know
That God to thee will favour ſhow.
429. On the Crocodile.
NIle's poys'ny Pyrate kils (Hiſtorians ſay)
The man, then bathes him in his tears ſtraitway.
So ſome whoſe tear-commanding eys let fall
Diſſembling ſhowres, have hearts brim fill'd with gal.
430. On a Croft.
GReat God plough up my heart, that fallowfield,
And ſow thy grace therein; O make it yield
A fruitful crop, that thou may'ſt have the praiſe,
And I enjoy the benefits always.
431. On Croiſes or Pilgrims.
THe Croſs-ſign'd Pilgrim travels far to ſome
Devotious place, to him Chriſt bids us come,
And he will to our Country bring us home.
432. On a Crook.
CHriſt is our Shepherd, & his Spir't the Crook
That guides us in the way we have forſook.
433. On a Croſs.
ONe may be ſigned with the Croſs,
And yet for Heaven be at a loſs.
434. On a Croſs way.
CRoſs is the way that leadeth to a Crown,
No man can go to Heaven on beds of doun.
435. On a Croſs-bow.
AFfliction is a Croſs-bow, endleſs bliſs
The white, by that a Saint is ſent to this.
436. On a Croſs-row.
THe child learns by degrees the Chriſt-croſsrow,
So we (alas!) come all by eaſe to know
The things of God, and what to God we owe.
437. On Croſſes.
FNngland alas! for many years hath ſeen
Enough of croſſes; here hath always been
Croſs doing, and Croſs dealing with each other,
How many heretofore have kept a pother,
To pull material croſſes down? there are
But few pull ſin down from them, and prepare
To bear Criſts Croſs, which he on them doth lay
Croſſes to Heaven are a ſurer way
Than pleaſures; croſſes are the turning key
Of Paradiſe, Saints by them have no loſs.
Wicked men croſſes have, but not Chriſts croſs.
Suppoſe I meet with croſſes, croſſes are
A Cath'lick mis'ry; therein all men ſhare,
And ſhould I grieve? this reaſon may-ſuggeſt
This is conſtraint, godly content is beſt.
Saints by the Chriſt-croſs (though no letter) know
More than by all the Letters in the row.
God ſends his ſons to th' Free-School of the Croſs,
Where they learn beſt, the fire conſumes their droſs
And purifies them; Golden Chriſtians have
Been tri'd, God ſmites in love, that he may ſave
What ever croſſes do the Saint moleſt,
His laſt end, ſhall aſſuredly be bleſt.
Croſſes not only mind us of our crimes,
But alſo ſerve to better us ſometimes.
We climb up by the Croſs to Heavens ſtory.
The croſs-way is the only way to glory.
Ferre quam ſortem patiuntur omnes
Nemo recuſat.—
438. On Crotchets.
SOme crotchets in his head a man may have
Sometimes, and yet be neither Fool nor Knave
439. On a Crowd.
MUltitudes crowd to Hell apace,
The way of ſin is broad,
Few travel towards Heaven (alas!)
Grace is a narrow road.
440 On Crowing.
THe crowing of a Cock amazes ſore
The Emperour of Beaſts, and makes him rore;
It foreſhews change of weather: Peters eye
When the Cock crew, ſhed tears abundantly.
441. On a Crown.
ON Earth Saints all their life are gold preparing,
To make a Crown in heaven worth the wearing,
Saints their Crown-royal have: Crowns only are
For Kings and Princes of renown to wear:
Their Crown is free from care, 'tis not envi'd,
For all are crown'd, theirs always doth abide.
Pardon's a mercy, but rich mercy 'tis
To crown us; O what kind of love is this!
How will the Saints advanc'd to Heaven above,
Read over Lectures of Free-grace and Love.
And O how will they forth his praiſes ſound,
Who with his loving kindneſſes are crown'd!
Alas! that men ſhould be ſo ſtupid grown,
As for a rattle to forego a Crown.
442. On a Crowner.
THe Crowner by his Queſt finds murder out,
Soul-ſearch for ſin we ſeldom go about.
443. On a Crucifix.
MAny do ſuperſtitiouſly adore
The Crucifix, who cannot yet abide,
The Croſs of Chriſt, and trample on the floor
With ſcornfull feet, the blood of God beſide:
Like that French King, who when he ſwore would kiſs
The Croſs, as if nothing were then amiſs.
444. On Cruelty.
THe Devils cruelty tranſcends the rage
Of greateſt Tyrants, that in any age
Quaff'd humane blood, Charybdis chaf'd with wind,
Or the fell Tyger of th' Armenian kind,
Is not ſo rough, ſo fierce, as he is when
He hath ſeiz'd on his prey, the ſouls of men.
His name's Apollyon, he rent and tore
The man in whom he was, and made him rore.
O! if when chain'd he was ſo fierce, ſo hot,
What will he do when he full pow'r hath got!
445. On a Crum.
LOrd, we do not deſerve in greateſt need
A crum of bread;
For we have broken all the ſacred bands
Of thy commands.
Yet in Chriſt Jeſus all things we poſſeſs,
O give us hearts thy praiſes to expreſs.
446. On a Crupper.
THe crupper keeps the Saddle ſteady, ſo
But for reſtraint, great evils men would do.
447. On a Cruſe.
LOrd may I to thy glory uſe
The little that is in my cruſe,
Whilſt moſt their plenty do abuſe.
448. On a Cruſt.
LOrd I will not complain of want,
Whilſt thou a cruſt to me doſt grant:
Nor will I ſay thou art unjuſt,
If that ſhould fail, but in thee truſt.
449. On a Crutch.
WHen the poor man is falling, ſuch
To whom the Lord hath given much
Of worldly means, ſhould never grutch
To ſtay him with a ſilver Crutch.
450. On crying Sins.
SIns crying are, when come to their full height,
When God more ſpecial notice of them takes,
They call for preſent help even in a ſtreight,
God hears their cry, and the ſtout ſinner ſhakes,
How wicked are our times! O Heav'n forgive
Our crying ſins, and let poor England live.
451. On a Cub.
ALthough the fool at ſmall beginnings mocks,
A Cub may prove in time a ravenous Fox.
452. On a Cubit.
OUr Saviour ſaid, what man can add
One cubit to its ſtature,
By taking care, and yet all are
Thereto inclin'd by nature.
453. On a Cube.
A Cube Hieroglyphically ſhews
An honeſt man, whoſe actions are ſquare,
With ſuch converſe; his company refuſe
Whoſe dealings like a ſphere, are circular.
454. On a Cuckold.
THe horned He-moon never thanks returns
To him that made him, & gave him his horns.
But yet men gratifie the Devil when in
Their hearts they nouriſh his foul baſtard ſin.
455. On a Cuckow.
THe Cuckow in one tune delighteth ſtill,
So do the moſt of men in acting ill.
456. On a Cuckquean,
A Cuckquean is a Jade that for baſe pelf.
Becomes a Hackney, & lets out her ſelf;
Though men who love their wives cannot abide her,
Wife-haters, though ſhe brings to hell, will ride her.
457. On a Cucumber.
IT is by nature cold, and ſo are we,
To what is good, till warm'd by grace we be
458. On the Cud.
WHen we do read or hear that which is good,
We ſhould by meditation chew the cud.
459. On a Cudgel.
WHen Love unreaſonably is abus'd,
Then is a Cudgel ſeaſonably us'd.
460. On a Cuff.
SInners do love to play at blind mans buff,
And Satan unawares gives them a cuff.
461. On Cuffs.
GRace makes men gallant, & doth more adorn,
Than ruffling cuffs which on mens wriſts are worn.
462. On Cunning.
TO avoid Satans ſnares we muſt be cunning,
The prize before our eyes is won by running.
463. On a Cup.
AS to us here for Jeſus Chriſt his ſake,
The bitter cup of perſecution's given;
So we from Jeſus Chriſt his hands ſhall take,
The ſweet cup of ſalvation in Heaven.
464. On a Cupboard.
THe Cup-board ſerves to keep proviſion in,
Mans heart holds in it, either grace or ſin.
465. On a Cupping-Glaſs.
PHyſitians uſe the Cupping-glaſs to draw
Out bloud, with ſcarrify'ng of the skin,
And ſo a Chriſtian muſt uſe the Law,
To ſuck out the corrupted bloud of ſin.
466. On a Curate.
THe thin-fac'd Curate taketh all the pains,
Yet he can ſcarce pick out a livelyhood,
The bouncing Parſon raketh all the gains;
Though he (God knows) does very little good,
I fear at the great day of Chriſts appearing,
This will appear to be a crime paſt cleering.
467. On Curd.
TO be without as white as Curd,
And black within is moſt abſur'd,
From ſuch, deliver us good Lord!
468. On a Curfew.
THis night the Bell calls to bed, but oh!
Before the next, my paſſing Bell may go.
469. On Curioſity.
IT's the moſt common vice of almoſt all
Wiſe men, ſome it hath made heretical:
O what a let to holineſs and bliſs,
Is curioſity, it makes men miſs
The ſum of their deſires; we ought to know
Gods ſecrets may not be enquir'd into:
Who would compr'end a majeſty unbounded,
He with its glory, muſt be needs confounded:
An over-curious perveſtigation,
Into the Ark of Gods predeſtination,
With Pride, and danger too, attended is,
T'en …ire the cauſe of Gods decree, why this
And not that man is choſe, ſeems not to me,
An act of Judgment, but of Lunacy
The queſtion is as guilty of reproof,
As he that the bold Author is thereof.
Adam was driven out of Paradiſe,
For his affecting to be overwiſe:
Iſr'el had dy'd the death, if they had paſt
Their bounds, to climb up (as they would in haſt)
Unto the Mount, and ſo to gaze upon
The glorious Lord:—no center to reſt on,
This vice can find, but it leads men into
The endleſs Labyrinths of ſmarting woe:
Let's not be over-wiſe, it is not fit,
That we preſume above that which is writ:
The Bethſhemites prying into the Ark
Were ſmitten blind, ſafe being in the dark,
Where is no warrant, nor command to know,
Nice curiouſneſs is the high-way to woe:
Lord what I may not narrowly enquire
Into; O teach me fully to admire.
Scrutator majeſtatis opprimetur a gloria.
470. On a Cure.
SIn is a Soul-diſeaſe, which no Phyſitian,
Save Chriſt can heal, who knows beſt the condition
Of each diſtemp'red patient; he is ſure
To ſpeed, who ſeeks in faith to him for cure:
Till cur'd we are, we are unfit to do
God any ſervice, that he puts us to.
Lord! I believe that my poor ſin-ſick ſoul
Shall be, if thou but ſay the word, made whole.
471. On Currant money.
THe Saints of God, for currant money paſs
In heavens Kingdom, being ſtampt with grace
472. On a Curre.
SInners are ſnarling currs, and they delight
To bark at ſinners? but them they cannot bite.
473. On the Current.
SAlvation-work (which we ſhould make our ſtrife)
Is hard, becauſe the currant of the life
Is to be altered; that the Tide of ſin,
Which ran ſo ſtrong before, ſhould now agin
Be turn'd; that men ſailing to Hell with ſpeed,
Should now ſail Heav'n-ward? here's a work indeed!
O Lord be pleas'd to ſanctifie me ſo,
That what is good, I make think, ſpeak and do.
474. On Curr…nts.
BAſe luſts are ſweet, to Satan's Apes;
As to the taſte Corinthian Grapes.
475. On a Currier.
THis Leather-dreſſer labours har'd
Spurr'd on by recompencing gaines;
O did we think of our reward
In heav'n, we ſhould for heaven take pains.
For ſuch as labour ſhall have reſt,
And they that perſevere are bleſt.
476. On Curſedneſs.
HE is accurs'd, that being born in ſin,
(Recovery unſought) lives, dyes therein.
He that from Chriſt hath not a pardon firſt,
Muſt hear from Chriſt, this ſentence, Go ye curſt:
O ſuffer not thy ſlumbring eyes to reſt,
Till Chriſt hath ſeal'd thee a Quietus eſt,
Give no peace to thy ſelf, till thou with God
Have peace, thou art ſtill under the black Rod,
Till thou repent, he that in known ſins goes
On wilfully, is damned in the cloſe:
O let not us retain, nor entertain,
Sin, leſt on us the curſe thereof remain.
Quamdiu impaenitentia manet, maledictio imminet.
477. On Curſes.
THe curſes mentioned in ſacred Story,
Are ſinners portions, yea their Inventory,
And at the day of death their portion ſhall
Be truly paid them, pleaſure ends in Gall,
And though perchauce (enjoying good ſucceſs)
They in their wickedneſs, themſelves do bleſs:
Yet are they heir-apparents to God's curſe,
And what (pray tell me) can befall them worſe:
O if we could avoid the curſes due
For ſin, repent we muſt; and ſin eſchew.
478. On Cruſing.
SOme have (as well as Job) curſed the day
Of their firſt birth, but of their ſecond birth,
None ever curs'd the day, O bleſſed they
That are New-born! that day occaſions mirth.
Curſing is made the common weapon now
Of anger, and the ill he cannot do,
Wrath wiſhes, ſad it is it ſhould be ſo.
479. On Curſtneſs.
CUrſt Cows have ſhort hornes, & he that can
Talk moſt, is not always the wiſeſt man.
480. On a Curtain.
SIn is a Curtain drawn between
The Soul, and God's bright ſhining face,
His glory, ah! cannot be ſeen,
Till ſin be vanquiſh'd by his conqu'ring grace.
481. On a Courteſie.
WE muſt not ſtrein at courteſie to ſee
Who ſhall go firſt, but each one ſtrive to be
Foremoſt in duty, in this ſtrife agree.
482. On a Curtezan, or a two-legg'd Jade.
ROom, pray Sirs room, I can no longer hold,
My fury in, ſince vice is ſo extold.—
Impudent quean! who ne're had ſo much grace,
As is portended by the bluſhing face,
To ſwarm like Bees! here's maſter to infuſe
An angry zeal into a frozen Muſe;
And now my juſt incenſed Muſe proclaims
An open War againſt ſalacious Dames
And their rank Riders; ſhe intends to throw
Her whirling Arrows, from her twanging Bow,
At ſuch as do belong to Venus Court,
And are delighted with that beaſtly ſport:
Who Tinder-boxes love, and will adventure
On Quivers ope, for every ſhaft to enter,
O ſhameful! Silken gallants have their queans,
And filthy drabs, which ſoak away their means,
They waſte their ſtrength on ſuch, as are no leſs
Than the Elixars of all naughtineſs,
Half-eaten with the Pox, alluring Dames,
And fuel which do feed their luſtful flames:
But more of this—and ſuch as love the trade,
Expect kind Reader, when I come to Jade.
483. On a Cuſhion.
IDleneſs is the Devils Cuſhion,
By ſitting on it, thouſands are undone.
484. On Cuſtody.
A Chriſtian muſt ſet a conſtant guard
About his heart, and keep with watch & ward
His heart; his heart muſt ſtill be in his eye,
The heart requires the ſtricteſt cuſtody:
For 'tis the ſpring, which maketh all our deeds
Run pure, or muddy, life from thence proceeds.
Lock up thy heart with God, (how ſafe are they
That daily do ſo?) and give him the Key.
485. On Cuſtom, or Tole.
LEvi no ſooner call'd from the Receit
Of Cuſtom, does upon his Savior wait,
And at his home, makes him a coſtly feaſt;
He could not entertain a better gueſt.
Lord! if it be thy cuſtom to take tole,
Satan may take my ſins, take thou my Soul.
486. On Cuſtom, or Ʋſe.
SIn, which is weight enough to ſink down quite
The world, is made (alas) by cuſtom, light;
¶ Cuſtom in ſin obſtupifies ſenſe ſo,
That men ſcarce know, whether they ſin or no,
Sin gathers ſtrength by cuſtom, by degrees
It creeps, like ſome contagious diſeaſe:
Milo firſt bear a Calfe, and ſtill his ſtrength
Encreaſing with his burden, he at length
Became ſo able and ſo powerful,
That he could bear with eaſe a goring Bull:
¶ Cuſtom that ſecond nature, is ſometimes
A friend to vertue, but more oft to crimes.
487. On a Cutler.
HE is a Blade that lives by making blades,
But he that in the Ordinances trades,
Shall live, though death his mortal life invades.
488.
On a Cut-purſe.
On a Cut-throat.
HE is an arrant Thief that cuts the purſe,
And he a murtherer, that cuts the throat;
Though that indeed be bad, yet this is worſe,
But both deſerve to wear a Pendant knot
An Inch below the ears, 'its good to do
To others as we would be done unto.
489. On a Cynick.
THe Cynick in his Tub, found more content,
Than Alexander in his gliſtering Throne;
In Contemplation his time he ſpent;
This wept, becauſe no more Worlds were his own.
290. On the Cynoſure.
THe Pilot well obſerves the Cynoſure,
And ſo ſhould we God, that Northern Star;
Until we touch the Port, and land ſecure
In Heav'n, that Haven where no dangers are,
Where neither ſin our happineſs deſtroys,
Nor ſorrow interrupts our endleſs joys.
The Poſt-ſcript to the Reader.
1.
THus (Reader) have I finiſh'd as thou ſeeſt,
The firſt three Letters of the Criſs-croſs R…
More Grapes I have, which ſhall not now be preſt,
How well thou wilt l…e theſe, I do not know.
If this Taſt pleaſe, thou mayſt command my ſtore,
The Vineya…d of my Muſe can yield thee more.
2.
I pray thee let my abſence from the Preſs;
Obtain that of thee, which thy preſence ſhall
Obtain of me, (a favour I confeſs)
T'amend the Errors Typographical,
So ſhall the Printer, and the Author too,
Be bound to ſerve thee in what we can do.
FINIS.
End of the text · Nicolas Billingsley, A Treasury of Divine Raptures (1667)