WHAT Sudden lightning cleares my cloudie brow,
And bends faint hopes to follow forth their aimes?
At Christ's right hand a band more bright doth bow,
Then summer's Sun when mustring all his beams;
The prospect of my thoughts is pleasant now;
loy doth disperse all melancholy dreames;
Hence, hence all ye whose sprits are still prophane,
This sacred ground no vulgar foot must staine.

The first of them that throng about the throne,
Is he, save God, who once no fellow had;
Of all the syre, and yet a sonne to none,
Was rich when naked, never poore till clad;
Long'd not, nor loath'd, nor griev'd, when as alone,
What could displease, where he was best, none bad?
Though never childe what childishnesse more
Who for an apple Paradise did change? [strange,
To that brave garden with all pleasure stor'd,
When banish'd Adam heavily look'd back,
As griev'd to thinke of what he had beene lord,
Whil'st every object anguish more did make;
An angry angel bragg'd him with a sword,
God threatned had, how could he comfort take?
A prince depriv'd, forc'd servile works to try,
So tortur'd first, and then condemn'd to dye.

But that short griefe, to endlesse joy is chang'd,
He lives more happy, that he once was dead,
The promis'd seed (so Evah was reveng'd)
Sting'd in the heele, did bruise the serpent's head;
O monstrous worke, from reason far estrang'd!
What harm'd him most, hath him more happy made:
He lives (where first he was in feare to fall)
(Free from restrictions) to no danger thrall.

Two doe succeed to this great sonne of slime,
(Though one was elder) eldest borue to light,
Who heard their father sigh forth many time,
His fall, wive's weakenesse, and the serpent's slight,
Not for the losse, griev'd onely for his crime,
And so much more, that it had wrong'd their right:
While as they him, and he his Maker lov'd,
His wail'd rebellion their obedience mov'd.

Loe, (next to Eden's) Adam's greatest losse, [taint,
That faithfull sheepheard, whom no staine could
First gold refin'd (all upright) free from drosse,
In whom (it seemes) Heaven piety would paint,
Since first (thus goodnesse mischiefe straight must
Whom persecution did designe a saint: [tosse).

An innocent for gratefull offring slaine,
Whose suffring did a martyr's glory gaine.

The old man's griefe with comfort to asswage
(God's owne when weake are strengthened still by
grace)

I here see Seth, who after Cain's rage

(A pledge of favour) fill'd his brother's place,
With other ancients of that infant age,
Most part of whom from him deriv'd their race:
In his sonne's time (whil'st vice had flow'd ov'r all)
On God againe, who then began to call.

He most is mark'd amidst this glorious traine,
Who walk'd with God, when here, as wholly his,
And such perfection did below attaine,
That death not tooke him as the custome is,
But as secur'd by priviledge from paine:
The fabulous Grecians fondly glaunc'd at this,
Yet fail'd in forme, and did pervert the sense,
No eagle, no, but angels bare him hence.

The time of Adam first much knowledge bred,
Who told Heaven's will, and warn'd how Satan rag'd,
For all were learn'd, though bookes they never read.
Whil'st many ages could not make one ag'd;
But whenGod's sonnes did with men's daughters wed,
(Though giants, weake) all were to vice engag'd:
And since all those were never purg'd till drown'd,
That time yeelds few for piety renown'd.

Most happy he who first (though scorn'd a space)
Both threatning judgment, and yet offering grace,
To preach repentance, eminently stood,
As he was made, to make the world grow good;
Their soules from sinne, their bodies from the floud:
Then (all else lost) did save some of his race,
And last (world's victor) even by angels prais'd,
His arke triumphall to the clouds was rais'd.

Whil'st widow'd fields, which seem'd their guests to
waile,

(As all distill'd in teares) could not be dry'd;
The drooping flowers, with hanging heads grown pale,
Did seeme to mourne, that thus all creatures dy'd,
Lest th' earth (thus spoil'd) to bring forth fruits
might faile,

Industrious Noah husbandry first try'd:
Whil'st Saturne, Ianus, and Ogyges nam'd.
For which to him, fond antients, altars fram'd,

O! what strange things by deare experience past,

Could this man tell, amazement to constraine?
Who saw the world first full, then all turn'd waste,
Yet liv'd himselfe to people it againe,

Till from his race great kings did rise at last,
Who him for syre not knew, or did disdaine:
Whil'st old (and poore perchance) with toyle and
Glad (by his labour) to maintaine his life.

strife,

There are two sonnes whom anguish did entrance,
To heare the third their father's scorne proclaime,
Who forward, backward, blindely did advance,
Even from themselves to hide their father's shame,
Lest that their eyes had guilty beene by chance,
As sure their hearts could no such horrour dreame:

The father's blessing hath effectuall prov'd,
We see how Cham was curs'd, they truly lov'd.

Shem, father's heire, a lampe of light design'd,
Melchisedech, a mighty prince, or priest,
With whom God did communicate his minde,
A speciall labourer after Noah's rest,
I see with him some others of his kinde,
Till Abram rose, who follow'd him for best;
Arpashad, Shelab, Eber, Pelag stand,
Reu, Serug, Nahor, Terah in one band.

Of laphet's race at first, some forward throng,
(The rest, turn'd Gentiles, godliness did leave)
Who surfetting on nature's pleasures long,
At last (quite stumbling) drunke with vice did rave,
And when once stray'd, still more and more went
wrong,

Till last recall'd, the Lord their seed did save:
In tents of Shem, since Iaphet came to dwell,
His numbers now doe all the rest excell.

Who shines so bright? I must to marke him stay,
The churche's stocke, from whom it did descend,
The first cleare lampe who did directHeaven's way,
Perfection's patterne, imitation's end,
Whom righteousnesse did as a robe array,
Who eate with angels, was profess'd God's friend :
Of all the faithfull, call'd the father still,
Whose pleasure was to doe his Maker's will.

A straying stranger, he (whil'st poore he seem'd)
Gave Lot his choice of lands, so peace to bring,
And him when captive by the sword redeem'd,
Both liberall, valorous, yet a greater thing,
His friend once free, no treasure more esteem'd,
Who scorn'd to be beholding to a king:
Was onely weake when he disclaim'd his wife,
Not firme with God, or else too fond on life.

When Sodome's ruine justly was design'd,
God to this man whom he so dearely lov'd,
Would (ere effected) justifie his minde,
By his applause, as glad to be approv'd,
Who durst contest, but could ten good not finde,
Else by his meanes, Heaven's army was remov'd,
In league with God by sacrament receiv'd,
Who true religion heretable leav'd.

His lifted hand had aym'd the fatall wound,
(A course most strange, which thoughts can scarce
embrace)

Yet not distracted, but in judgment sound,
To kill his sonne, and all the promis'd race; [bound)
(Whil'st faith triumph'd, both sense and reason
Till him an angell stayd (O wondrous case!)
"Her birth, who barren was, an offring made,
Had been by nature's course, not borne, nor dead."

He in whose bosome saints have had their rest,
Who was for God from friends and soile estrang'd,
Hath still his nephew neere (a wandring guest)
On fields too faire, his roving flockes who rang'd,
Which he at last, as ugly, did detest,
Hiswife transform'd, himselfe deform'd, both chang'd:
He, though not burn'd, yet smoak'd, had Sodome's
smell,
[fell.

Whil'st fled from flames, when safe, as choak'd he

That sacrifice (though offered) who not dy'd,
First type of Christ, his suffering who presag'd,
For whom God did (when famine was) provide,
And for dig'd fountaines budding broyles asswag'd,
Yea, was for father's cause, his guard and guide,
Till at his wealth for envy, heathens rag'd:

Though substance thought, that but a shadow darke
Scarce of his riches pointed at a sparke.

There that great wrestler, halfe of one time's brood,
Who was ere borne against his brother bent,
And last us'd fraud, when force could doe no good,
(The meanes were bad, though happy the event)
But with Heaven's Monarch bravely struggling stood,
Till blest by force, he thence a victor went:
To dreame of angels, who on th' earth did lye,
A stone his pillow, curtain'd by the skye.

He thus whom God nor man could not appall,
(By beauty onely to turne captive mov'd)
Twice seven years sold, was made a wretches thrall,
And yet the time seem'd short because he lov'd;
Still when high thoughts his hopes to minde did call,
Rough blasts seem'd smooth, even suffrings pleasant
No storme him mov'd, save onely Rachel's frowne,
prov'd:
Whose leavy garland did his labours crowne.

O happy shepheard! flattring but his flocke,
In minde a monarch, but more free from toyles,
Whose crowne an ivy wreath, whose throne some
His staffe a scepter, lord of many soiles, [rocke,
At night the stars, all day the Sunne his clocke,
He fed his sheep, they him, proud of their spoiles:
And whil'st corrivall'd by encroaching beames,
Her eyes his glasse, and her's some crystall streames.

Whil'st poore, thus pleas'd, nought could occurre
save good,

But straight when rich, he tortur'd did remaine,
His daughter ravish'd, sonnes involv'd in bloud,
The best belov'd (as he imagin'd) slaine,
When old and weake, forc'd farre to shift for food,
Whence (save his bones) nought was brought back

againe :

"His dayes both few and evill, he last confest, Not wealth nor honour, death yeelds onely rest".

But what rare beauties ravish now mine eyes,
Of which I thinke her one, who grosly fail'd.
By whom first man was borne, all mankinde dyes,
Whose errour still her ruin'd race bath wail'd?
But (rack'd with pangs which all her sexe oft tryes)
Whilst breeding more to plant the world withall,
No doubt repentance many times prevaile:
In place of one, whom she had made to fall.

She, whose great beauty, kings in vaine did crave,
First of her sexe, whom sacred pennes applaud,
Who yong, still barren, did when old conceive,
Yet (fondly curious) did her selfe defraud,
And made a mayd her equall of a slave,
Her rival's raiser, her owne husband's bawd:
For which due paine, she justly did abide,
"Of slaves preferr'd, none can endure the pride."

From drawing water, an attending mayd,
Whilst nobly humble, bonourably kinde,
Straight (highly match'd) with gorgeous robes
array'd,

By struggling twins, a mother was design'd,
Of which for one (as franke affection sway'd)
She boldly ventred, though her mate was blinde,
Whom she beguil'd, not wrong'd, and (calme in strife)
Though alwaies faithfull, was a cunning wife.

Of rivall sisters emulous in love,
The churche's mothers, Iacob's joyes surmis'd,
The one's weake eyes, now bright as starres doe move,
Whom God would grace, when man too much
despis'd;

She though least faire, yet did most fertile prove,
Whose mate loves oddes, found by opinion pris'd:
In minde, and armes, two brides at once embrac'd,
Whil'st sense and fancy, severall circuits trac'd.

Long after death she who to waile was spy'd,
When from compassion, Herod quite did swerve,
Not mercenarily match'd, whom for a bryde,
Twice seven yeares' service scarcely could deserve;
Yet (stain'd by breeding whil'st her syre was guide)
Imbezled idols, did with fraud preserve:
Long long'd to beare, yet by her wish was griev'd,
First known, whose death made Evah's curse beleev'd.

Her mother neere, that ravish'd daughter stayes,
Whose curiousnesse much mischiefe did procure;
A gorgeous beauty whil'st it guardlesse strayes,
If not inviting, doth at least allure;

O what huge evils a moment's sport repayes,
Her brothers murtherers, and her selfe a whore?
Here lust by bloud, and shame was purg'd by teares,
Such bitter fruits a woman's wandring beares.

The old arch-father's chiefe, whom lewes renowne,
Their names by tribes distinguish did their race,
His father's strength who might have claym'd the
Had not his glory melted in disgrace, [crowne,
Like water (when rais'd high) which must fall downe,
For pleasure foule, had forfeited his place,
Yet when his brothers would their brother kill,
Then, onely kinde, he stay'd th' intended ill.

Hearts big with vengeance, whil'st for bloud they
long'd,

Two worst of twelve, in mischiefe, brothers sworne,
Man's sacred match, God's covenant, both wrong'd,
The mocke of marriage, circumcision's scorne,
To murther numbers by base treason throng'd,
Till for their fault (with inward anguish torne)
Their holy father, horrours height conceiv'd, [sav'd.
But though their wrath was curs'd, themselves were

He who himselfe with courage should acquite,
Still like a lyon fighting for his prey,
Stor'd with abundance, dandled with delight,
Whom all his brothers freely should obey, [white,
With bloud of grapes made red, with milke made
Till Shiloh came, who did the sceptre sway;
From him did spring the author of our peace,
The height of goodnesse, and the ground of grace.

But yet at home he was unhappy long,
His eldest sonne (high hopes defrauding) dead,
The next (too grosly working nature wrong)
Had straight God's judgement pour'd upon his head:
The third held backe from whom he did belong,
He (though their syre) to breed them heires was
A whore-like widow tempting him to lust, [made,
Whom first he damn'd, but (bound by signes) held just.

Here are the rest of fertile Leah's brood,

And of the mayds for birth, who with her striv'd,
Not stayn'd as ill, nor yet much prais'd for good,
Who sheepheards still in vaguing lodgings liv'd,
Did sell their brother, brought their father food,
And highly griev'd for former harme contriv'd,

With them comes Rachel's last and dearest boy,
On whom his father doted oft for joy.

But then all these, one more transports me now,
Who did of dreames the mysteries unfold,
To whom Sunne, Moone, and starres eleven did bow,
As for their Atlas, who should them uphold;
"But envie's basenesse cannot worth allow:"
For, brag'd by death, he for a slave was sold:
Yet wrought they good, who mischiefe did intend,
A bad beginning for so brave an end.

In fortune's favour, and in strength for age,
To taste stayn'd pleasure, him by all their charmes,
Not beauty (grac'd by greatnesse) could engage,
Though offered, and alone, and in his armes;
His chastuesse blame, his goodnesse bred him harmes:
Whil'st love to lust, and lust all turn'd to rage,
The syre for love afflicted did remaine,
And onely he because of his disdaine.

He whom for state, affliction had prepar'd,
Whil'st from a prison to a palace brought,
Where, sold a slave, was straight a prince declar'd,
In time of plenty, who for famine car'd,
Clad with rich robes, the chiefe by suiters sought,
Sav'd all the subjects, yet the kingdome bought:
Both rich and godly, O how rare a thing!
Of God the prophet, minion of the king.

Not proud when prosp'ring, (as when rais'd ore-
throwne)

His heart grew humble when his fortune great,
Where some for shame had not his brothers showne,
Whose scorned basenesse might his fame abate,
He (tenderly disposed to his owne)
Did from distresse redeeme their wretched state :
Their cruelty with courtesie repay'd.
And, where (unnaturall) they had him betray'd,

Thrice happy man, as high in worth as place,
Whose fortune's course did strangely ebbe and flow,
From murther, bondage, ruine, and disgrace,
In Pharoh's kingdome greatest prince to grow,
In whom true vertue garnish'd was with grace,
To gaine industrious, liberall to bestow:
And yet in this his chiefe contentment stood,
That he had liv'd to doe his father good.

Though fail'd in earthly, sharpe in sprituall sight,
When Ioseph thought that Iacob was beguil'd,
Who (straight whil'st crossing) seeming wrong, went
right,

Here are his sonnes from whom two tribes were stil'd;
In scattred Levie's roome, one rose in might,
What father knowes how God will blesse a childe?
Whil'st God his good by his owne vertue breeds,
The yongest thus the eldest oft exceeds.

When raging malice had put off her maske,
All kindenesse, duty, and compassion gone,
The straw abstracted, doubling still their taske,
Even mid-wives, murtherers, birth and death made
one,

Here sundry are, who helpe from God did aske,
And under burdens heavily did grone:
"But though affliction force devotion's teares,
Curs'd are those workes which such oppression

reares."

*

I see that dame whom Hebrewes honour most,
The glory of her sexe, a staine to men,
A prophetesse, a iudge, chiefe of an host,
Whose parts might furnish fame's most liberall pen;
Of such a one, no ethnicke scroule can boast,
Not martiall ladies, nor sybillaes ten:
What greater worth could any brest embrace,
In warre couragious, just in time of peace?

Next her comes he who did refuse to fight,
Unlesse her count'nance gave his courage life,
For which although his foes were put to flight,
The captaine's death gave glory to a wife;
Which, though he much presum'd, what judge-
ment's height?

Nor sword, nor launce did grace, no, not a knife:
This did him kill, who armies did command,
A little naile, and in a woman's hand.

His mother said, (puff'd up by former broiles)
"What stayes my sonne? he some great matter tryes
The souldiers to reward, they part the spoiles,
Whil'st vaunting victors scorne the captives' cryes,
Some dainty lady doth defray his toyles,

His eares drinke praises, trophees feast his eyes :"
Thus she with dreames was flattered all the space,
Whil'st he (poore wretch) was dying with disgrace.
Who Baal spoil'd, his clients did deride,
(Though of his race the man neglected most) [hide,
From threshing wheate, which he for feare would
Did (call'd by God) come to command an host,
Whose favour twice by severall signes was try'd,
Whil'st staggering doubts his resolution crost:
The fields all faire, his fleece quite drench'd did lye,
And, when all else was wet, was onely dry.

This victory, God for his owne would stampe,
And lest that it had seem'd by numbers sway'd,
Of every thousand ten, but kept the campe,
The rest remov'd, and of those few who stay'd,
Each crush'd a pitcher, and held forth a lampe,
Brave sounds and lightning, to make men dismaid:
A barly cake most monstrous did appeare,
The sword of Gideon kill'd ere it came neare.
This man when offered fled a soveraigne's place,
So modest first, and afterwards devout,
With all the jewels which his troupes did grace,
An ephod made (though bright) his onely blote,
Which did procure the ruine of his race,
By making lewes (too superstitious) dote:
"None should serve God, but as himselfe directs,
A good intention may breed bad effects."

That Gileadite, who, when exil'd from home,
In forraine parts a martiall man excell'd,
Not loathing all, for being wrong'd by some,
Did save their states, who him from his expell'd,
And Ammon's army two wayes did orecome,
To yeeld by reason, and by force compell'd: [fight,
"Men (not like beasts) should know for what they
That valour may maintaine, not make a right.”
When haughty Ephraim out of time too bold,
And basely grudging at another's good,
With words outragious (arrogantly told)
Him to contemne whom God exalted, stood,
That sudden heate procur'd an endlesse cold,
The pride of thousands quickly querch'd with bloud,
First civile warre, that with the lewes was seene,
Though since they oft have thus unhappy beene.

[burne,

When generous Iephte, did with state returne,
The pointed object of a generall joy,
Whose daughter's brest with longing thoughts did
Whil'st she made haste, his triumph to convoy;
Can one from mirth be made so quickly mourne?
Who sav'd all else, must he his owne destroy?
She singing came, but straight went backe and wept,
A vow too rash to be so strictly kept.

That Nazarite (as singular renown'd)
Whose heads each haire, a man in strength contain❜d,
Ah, then one woman, all more weake were found,
Whose charming bosome, glorie's colour stain'd,
She of his soule the mystery did sound,
Who first by bloud, and last for gold was gain'd:
His sacred secret he to her bewray'd,
And she him straight to all his foes betray'd.
Strange madnesse thus did raze his judgement's fort,
What none could force that he would needs afford;
This gorgeous creature, curious Nature's sport,
A living idoll, by blinde zeale ador'd,
She, she triumphs upon a doting sort,

Who will be slaves, even where there wants a lord:
And bearing sway, no reason some can move,
"Those who usurpe their power, must tyrants prove." ́

God by this man, strange wonders bent to show,
He curious riddles, sphinx-like, could contrive;
And as his strength, that men his wit might know,
To purchase praise by stratagems would strive;
Fields forc'd by fire, seem'd lightning from below,
Whil'st those who fled, that which they fied did drive:
This course it seemes did show his nature right,
The flames his force, the foxes show his slight.

His deeds farre past the reach of their conceit,
Who fain'd great persons, glosing on things gone
He of a towne did raze the guarded gate,
And (braving numbers) carried it alone;
He (bursting bands) a thousand dayes did date,
And with no weapon, save an abject bone,
Which (whil'st in flouds of sweat he all was drench'd)
His rage with bloud, his thirst with water quench'd.

But what behold I now? how great a change?
His haires quite raz'd, hands bound, his eyes put out,
Gaz'd at by troupes (as if some monster strange)
Whom once they fear'd, the flocking Pagans flout,
Till desp'rate courage burning with revenge,
Pull'd downe their temple, smoothering all about,
Where thousands kill'd, life sold at no base rate,
A famous ruine rear'd his tombe in state.

Here with the rest, who judg'd the Hebrew race,
And them from foes, in justice did maintaine,
Though last in number, one comes first in place,
Whom long his mother (griev'd) had wish'd in vaine,
By prayer purchas'd, and bred up in grace,
Who, beg'd from God, was given him back againe,
By whom, when but a childe, he thrice was call'd,
A judge, and prophet, twise in state enstall'd.

Yet when fond Israel urg'd a king to have,
Though grieving God, this much did vex his minde,
The danger showne of that which they did crave,
Not onely freely he their prince design'd,
But when in wrath the Lord did quite him leave,
Did labour long that he might favour finde;
This course his heart free from ambition prov'd,
Who thus left rule, and his successour lov'd.