■ah-* 
 
 Im 
 
 -m 
 
 -"Tj** 
 
 
 M 
 
 ^^M 
 
 'f'* 
 
 
 
 m-:mr:':^mm/M^l^\:m'{^^^->\)^!^^^^^^ 
 
 
 :.i»fitaiii ill* 
 
 . ;^ ^A 1
 
 IMPORTANT AND INTERESTING PUBLICATIONS 
 
 ILLUSTRATIVE OF SCOTTISH 
 HISTORY, POETRY, GENEALOGY, AND ANTIQUITIES, 
 
 ON SALE AT THE " WELL KNOWN " 
 
 ANTIQUAKIAN AND HISTORICAL BOOK-SHOP 
 
 OF 
 
 THOMAS GEORGE STEVENSON, 
 
 22 SOUTH FREDERICK STREET, EDINBURGH, 
 
 CLAVERHOUSE, VISCOUNT DUNDEE. 
 
 In three handsome Volumes, Illustrated uitli fine portraits and plates, 8vo, boards, 
 
 price Jb2, 12s. 6d. 
 
 MEMORIALS AND LETTEES Illustrative of the LIFE and TIMES of JOHN 
 GRAHAM of CLAVERHOUSE, VISCOUNT DUNDEE, from 1643 to 1 689. By Mark 
 Napier, Advocate. 
 
 THE GREAT AND VALIANT MONTROSE. 
 
 In two volumes, jyi'ofusely Illustrated with portraits, 8vo, boards, price 36s. 
 MEMOIRS OF JAMES GRAHAM, FIRST MARQUIS OF MONTROSE, from 
 1612 to 1650. By Mark N^vpier, Advocate. 
 
 JOHN KNOX, THE CELEBRATED SCOTTISH REFORMER. 
 
 In six volumes, 8vo, boards, price £2, 12s. 6d. 
 
 THE COMPLETE WORKS OF JOHN KNOX, now first CoUected and Edited with 
 Bibliographical and Illustrative Notes, &c, by David Laing. 
 
 KING CHARLES THE SECOND. 
 
 In 8vo (pp. 330), cloth boards, price 6s. Illustrated ivith a fine map. 
 PERSONAL HISTORY OF KING CHARLES THE SECOND, from his landing in 
 Scotland, on June 23, 1650, till his Escape out of England, October 15, 1651 ; with an outline 
 of his Life immediately before and after these dates. By the Rev. C. J. Lyon, M.A., St 
 Andrews. 
 
 NAPIERS OF MERCHISTON. 
 
 In 4to, Embellished ivith Fourteen Fine Portraits. Plates, and Facsimiles, boards, price 2 Is. 
 
 MEMOIRS OF JOHN NAPIER OF MERCHISTON, his Lineage, Life, and Times ; 
 with the History of the Invention of Logarithms, and an Appendix of Origmal Letters and 
 Illustrative Documents from the Family Papers. By Mark Napier, Advocate. 
 
 EARLDOM OF LENNOX CONTROVERSY. 
 
 In 8vo, cloth boards, price is. 
 
 HISTORY OF THE PARTITION OF THE LENNOX, with a Vmdication of the 
 Antiquities of Merchiston and Thirlstane. By Mark Napier, Advocate. 
 
 SCOTTISH CHARTULARIES,— Cosmo Innes, Esq., &c. 
 
 In 8vo, cloth boards, price 7s. 6d. 
 
 STEWARTIANA, &c. : Containing the Case of Robert 11. and Elizabeth Mm-e, and 
 Questions of Legitimacy of their Issiae, with Incidental Reply to Cosmo Innes, Esq. — New- 
 Evidence conclusive upon the Origui of the Stewarts, and other Stewart Notices, &c. Tt) 
 which are added. Critical Remarks upon Mr Innes's Preface to his recently edited Scotch 
 Chartularies, interspersed with divers Antiquarian Mattel's, &c., includmg the new Aber- 
 crombie Peerage Case, or Claun m 1738-9. — Evidence of the Status and Comiections of Sir 
 William Douglas of Liddesdale, the " Flower of Chivalry," — and Excerpts from the Family 
 History or Memoirs of the Murrays of Abercairney, kc, with Notes. By John Riddell, 
 Advocate. 
 
 MANNERS AND CUSTOMS OF SCOTLAND. 
 
 In 4to, (pp. 312), Ilhistrated with Forty Fine Plates, boards, price 38s. 
 
 MUSICAL MEMOIRS OF SCOTLAND, vnth Historical Annotations. By Sir John 
 Graham Dalyell, Bart.
 
 lONA CLUB. 
 
 In 8vo, cloth hoards, price £1, 4s. 
 
 COLLECTANEA DE EEBUS ALB ANICIS.— Collections relating to the Highlands and 
 Islands of Scotland ; with Notes and Illustrative Papers. Also the Transactions of the Iona 
 Club. Edited by Donald Geegort and Willl4M Forbes Skene. 
 
 DUKEDOM OF MONTROSE, 1488. 
 
 COMPLETE SETS of the various papers which were presented to the Hoiise of Lords 
 on Behalf of the EARL OF CRAWFORD AND BALCARRES claimuig the Title, Hon- 
 our, and Dignity of the ORIGINAL DUKEDOM OF MONTROSE, created in 1488. 
 Also, those papers which were presented on Behalf of the DUKE OF MONTROSE in Op- 
 position thereto, with the ABSTRACTS and ANALYSIS'S of the different Cases dra^vn up 
 by JOHN RIDDELL and COSMO INNES, Esqrs., Advocates, mcludmgthe " MINUTES 
 OF EVIDENCE" and " SPEECHES OF COUNSEL." 
 
 (.^ This INTERESTING and VALUABLE COLLECTION, which consists of 
 TWENTY-TWO different papers {in large folio and octairj), upon Important Questions of 
 SCOTCH PEERAGE LAW, Illustrated with Genealogical Tables and Facsimiles, was 
 NOT PRINTED FOR SALE. Price 31s. 6d. 
 
 ANCIENT ENGLISH POETRY. 
 
 In sm. 8vo., tmth a fine Frontispiece by C. K. Sharpe, price 12s. 6d. 
 
 THE VISIONS OF TUNDALE ; together with Metrical Moralizations, and other 
 Fragments of Early Poetry, hitherto inedited ; with an Introduction, by W . B. D. D. TuRNBDLL, 
 Advocate. 
 
 SCOTTISH ELEGIES. 
 In 8vo, price 10s. 6d., or on large paper, 15s., boards. 
 ELEGIAC VERSES on the Principal Nobilitt and Gentry of Scotland, from the 
 Year 1629 to 1729. Edited, with curious Notes, and an Appendix of Illustrative Papers, by 
 Jajies Maidment, Advocate. 
 
 HAWICK AND ROXBURGH. 
 
 In sm. 8vo, boards, price 4s. 6d. 
 
 ANNALS OF HAWICK, from a.d. 1214 to a.d. 1814 ; with a Supplement, containing 
 the Proceedings of the Circuit Courts of Justiciary held at Dumfries and Jedburgh in 1522, 
 now for the first time printed, and an Appendix of Illustrative Documents, Ancient Charters, 
 and Biograpliical Sketches, includuig those of Gavin Douglas of Drumlanrig, Rev. W. Fow- 
 ler, Rev A. Orrok. Rev. R. Cunningham, Rev. W. Crawford, Rev. Dr Somerville, Rev. Dr 
 Charters, Rev. Dr Young, &c. By James Wilson, Burgh Clerk. 
 
 FORFARSHIRE.— ABERBROTHECK. 
 
 In 8vo, boards, price 6s. 
 
 ARBROATH AND ITS ABBEY ; or the Early History of the Town and Abbey of 
 Aberbrotheck, including Notices of Ecclesiastical and other Antiquities of the Surroimding 
 District, by David Miller. 
 
 IMPORTANT TO, AND WORTHY THE NOTICE OF, 
 BOOK-COLLECTORS. 
 
 MISCELLANEA HISTORICA ET BIBLIOTHECA SCOTICA ANTIQU A.— Des- 
 criptive Catalogue of an Interesting and Valuable Collection of Books relating to History, 
 Antiquities, Bibliography, and Topography ; Genealogy, Heraldry, and the Peerage ; North 
 and South America ; also an Extensive Collection of PRIVATELY PRINTED BOOKS, 
 including those of the various LITERARY CLUBS, selected from the Unique Stock of 
 THOMAS GEORGE STEVENSON, Antiquarian and Historical Bookseller, 
 22 South Frederick Street, Edinburgh. 
 
 T. G. S. begs to intimate, that he will be happy to undertake the SALE of any 
 WORK connected with SCOTTISH HISTORY, ANTIQUITIES, POETRY, &c. 
 
 LIBRARIES OR PARCELS OF RARE AND CURIOUS BOOKS ; also, 
 
 ABBOTSFORD, BANNATYNE, and MAITLAND CLUB BOOKS, 
 
 PURCHASED OR EXCHANGED. 
 
 Libraries Arranged, Catalogued, and Valued, in Town ob Country. 
 
 BOOKBINDING IN ALL ITS BRANCHES.
 
 THE 
 
 POETICAL REMAINS 
 
 OF 
 
 WILLIAM LITHGOW. 
 
 M.DC.XVIII .— M.DC.LX.
 
 22 SOUTH FREDERICK STREET, EDINBURGH. 
 
 " asai&osc $]&op is tDcH-fenoton. or oug^t to be so. tg all tl&r true lobers 
 of curious little olir smofte-tirietJ bolumcs."- Cfjamtiers' illustrations of tf(e 
 autiDot of S^aberleg. 
 
 •'CiDis Stiop is nolD, I teliebe, tf)e onlj? existing 'Casfe' in tfjis CTitp 
 tDfjicf) preserbes tfje true ant ient fflSagnfeyn Ire ffliKorlre ' oJrour.' "~1U: J3ib= 
 irin's Cour tfjro' Srotlanlr, Uol ii- p 504.
 
 THE 
 
 POETICAL REMAINS 
 
 OF 
 
 WILLIAM LITHGOW, 
 
 THE SCOTISH TRAVELLER. 
 
 M.DC.XVIII.— M.DC.LX, 
 
 NOW FIRST COLLECTED. 
 
 EDINBURGH : 
 
 THOMAS GEORGE STEVENSON, 
 22 South Frederick Street. 
 M.DCCC.LXIII. 
 
 
 
 J i * i > 
 
 I J J J > J J
 
 IMPRESSION : 
 
 LIMITED TO ONE HUNDRED COPIES, 
 
 CHIEFLY FOR SUBSCRIBERS. 
 
 Colston l£ Son, Printers, Edinburgh. 
 
 ' ;': ^"» "' ' . .\ .'. • - .. 
 
 '•••••••.. *.: \ . •• 
 
 • •• ... .r*. *' •••• 
 
 ' ' » • • t. » 
 
 i' l-"- <- I . > . - . » 
 
 t *■ *. ^ ,1 t * « 
 
 ' ^ I lit IK «
 
 CONTENTS. /^43 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Prefatory Remarks, .... vii-xlvi 
 
 APPENDIX. — I. — Extract from Letter. — Locke to Carleton, xlvii 
 
 IL — Mr Lithgowe's Bill of Charges in the Mar- 
 
 shalsey, . . . xlvii 
 
 III. — Supplication of Aquila Wykes, . xlviii 
 
 IV. — Bond of Wm. Lithgow in .£200, for good 
 behaviour and appearance before the 
 Council when required, &:c. . xlix 
 
 V. — WiUiam Douglas, ... 1 
 
 VI. — Patrick Hannay, ... lii 
 
 I. — The Pilgrimes Farewell to his Natiue Countrey 
 of Scotland, 16 18. 
 
 II. — Scotland's' Tears in his Countreyes Behalf, 1625 
 
 III. — Scotlands Welcome to her Native Sonne and 
 Soveraigne Lord King Charles, 1633. 
 
 IV. — The Gushing Teares of Godly Sorrow, 1640. 
 
 V. — A Briefe and Summarie Discourse upon that 
 Lamentable and Dreadfull Disaster at Dun- 
 glasse, 1640. 
 
 VI. — Scotlands Paraenesis to her Dread Soveraign King 
 Charles the Second, 1660. 
 
 :S6369
 
 Prefatory Remarks. 
 
 MONGST the remarkable characters that figured during the 
 
 reign of the first James and his unfortunate son, William 
 LiTHGOW occupies a prominent position. He was the first 
 Scotsman who has left a record of his travels in foreign 
 lands, and his adventures are so varied and romantic, that his personal 
 narratives still possess attraction to those readers, who, despite of his 
 inflated and obscure style, have the courage and perseverance to peruse 
 them. He has been compared to Tom Coryate, whose " Crudities" 
 are deservedly still held in esteem by the curious, and undoubtedly 
 there is a considerable resemblance between the two Worthies ; — 
 but although the English traveller is decidedly the most amusing, his 
 Scotish contemporary has the advantage of recounting more startling 
 adventures, and more hair-breadth escapes. His apprehension, de- 
 tention, and torture by the Inquisitors in Malaga ; and the narrow 
 chance he had of not figuring in an auto da fe — a favourite pastime of 
 the holy fathers in those days of fiery zeal, and one much patronized by 
 Spanish Royalty — would afibrd a fitting subject for a romance, which 
 would eclipse the horrors of Mrs Radcliffe, and leave her "Italian^'' with 
 all its inquisitorial terrors, far behind. 
 
 Mr Brockett, in the preface to his reprint of Lithgow's " Siege of 
 Newcastle^ * asserts that the Author was originally bred a " Tailor," 
 
 * Newcastle, 1820.
 
 viii Prefatory Remarks. 
 
 and if this be correct, the fact is remarkable, for Lithgow had received 
 an excellent education, was well versed in classical literature, and 
 was much esteemed by persons in high places both in England and 
 Scotland. That he was a native of Lanark is known from his own 
 statement, and that his father was a Burgess of that ancient town is 
 proved by the retoiirs, where, on the 29th May 1623, there is this 
 entry : — " Wilhelmus Lythgow, heres Jacobi Lythgow Burgensis de 
 Lanark." 
 
 There was a small estate in the parish of Lanark, which, for a very 
 considerable period owned the Lithgows as proprietors. It was held 
 in feu of the Carmichael family, and was called Boathaugh. This 
 property was alienated to the Bonnington family about the middle ol 
 last century, by the grandfather of William Lithgow, Esq. of Stanmore, 
 who still possesses the burial place of the family, and the tradition is 
 that William was of the Lithgows of Boathaugh. 
 
 In the beginning of the travels, Lithgow condescends to inform the 
 readers of the causes which induced him to go abroad. This, however, 
 he does in a very obscure and mysterious manner. He writes : — 
 The reason " To satisfie the world in my behalfe as touching my travells, I sin- 
 AuthoAegun merely protest, that neither ambition, too much curiosity, nor any re- 
 putation I ever sought from the bubling breath of breathlesse man 
 (whose defective censure inclineth, as instigation or partiality, moveth 
 his weake and variable opinion) did expose me to such long peregrina- 
 tions and dangerous adventures past. But the proceeding whereof, 
 thousands conjecture the cause, as many the manner ; Ten thousand 
 thousands the effect ; The condition reserved, I partly forbeare, to 
 penetrate in that undeserved Dalida wrong ; and reconciled times 
 pleading desistance, moderate discretion inserteth silent patience." 
 
 In another passage Lithgow more fully, but almost as unintelligibly, 
 refers to the original cause of his peregrinations : — " And thus have I 
 in the late days of my younger years beene grievously afflicted ! Ah, 
 vea, and will more, than disastrous injuries over-clowded, O heavy 
 
 his Travels.
 
 Prefatory Remarks. ix 
 
 underpropd wrongs. But hath not the like accident befalnc to man 
 before ? Yea, but never the like condition of murther : Nay, but 
 then preponderate seriously this consequence. May not the scelerate 
 hands of foure blood-shedding wolves, fairly devoure, and shake in 
 pieces one silly stragling lamb ! Yea, and most certaine, that unawares, 
 the harmless innocent unexpecting evill may suddenly bee surprized by 
 the ambushment of life-betraying foes : All this I acknowledge, but 
 whereupon grew this thy voluntary wandering and unconstrained code ? 
 I answere, that being young and within minority in that occurrent 
 time, I was not only inveigled, but by sedusements inforced, even by 
 the greatest powers then living in my country to submit myselfe to 
 arbitrement satisfaction and reconciliation. But afterwards growing in 
 yeares, and understanding better the nature of such unallowable re- 
 dresses and the heinousnesse of the offence, I chosed rather, voti causa 
 to seclude myselfe from the soyle and exclude my relenting sorrows 
 to be entertained with strangers than to have a quotidian ocular in- 
 spection in any obvious object of disastrous misfortune ; or perhaps any 
 vindicable action might from an unsettled rancour bee conceived. O ! 
 a plaine demonstrate cause and good resolution : for true it is, that 
 flying — the flying from evill, is a flying to grace ; and a godly patience 
 is a victorious freedome, and an undaunted conquerour over all our 
 wrongs. Vengeance is mine saith the Lord, and I will repay it. To 
 this I answere, mine eyes have seen the revenging hand of God upon 
 mine adversaries, and these night-gaping foes are trampled under foot ; 
 while I from strength to strength, doe safely goe through the firey 
 tryall of calamities." 
 
 The author of a critique on Lithgow's Travels, in the "Retrospective Vol. XI., 
 Review^ commenting on this passage, which he characterises as very 
 obscure, infers that the traveller " would give us to understand that 
 political reasons induced him to fly from evil at home to seek grace 
 abroad." This assumption is not supported by the text, and it is not 
 easy to see how the onslaught of four blood-shedding wolves on one
 
 X Prefatory Remarks. 
 
 " silly stragling lamb " can be converted into a political squabble. 
 The reviewer overlooked, too, the remarkable vi^ords " that undeserved 
 Dalida wrong," which would lead to a somewhat different conclusion, 
 if the word Dalida be read as Dalila, which we suspect it must be ; 
 for Lithgow had a very strange way of dealing with words, so much so, 
 that his volume of travels, which otherwise would be, even in this 
 critical age, a very amusing book, is so much disfigured by his repulsive 
 style, that it requires more patience to wade through it than falls to the 
 lot of most readers. Now the term " Delilah" was used to designate a 
 deceitful wanton. Minshew, in his very valuable folio published in 
 1628, includes the word in his dictionary, — thus, "Delilah or Dalilah 
 nomen meretricis quam Samson deperiit, dicta* a Dalai, i. exhausit, ex- 
 haustus fuit, sunt enim meretrices lupse, voragines, abyssi, putei, foueje, 
 Scyllje, Chary bdes, mare, lues adolescentium, quorum loculos exhauriunt 
 ipsumque adeo sanguinem." Minshew then refers to Judges xvi., 
 4 to 21. 
 
 The natural interpretation to be put upon the preceding quotations 
 is, that the author, when in minority, had been victimized by some 
 Dalilah, and had been assaulted to the effusion of blood by some of 
 her admirers or relatives. The tradition in the Lithgow family coun- 
 tenances this supposition, if not to the full, at least to a great extent. 
 The present representative of the Lithgows of Boathaugh, and grand- 
 son of the gentleman who sold the lands, states that the traveller was 
 understood to have been of that stock. According to the understand- 
 ing of his predecessors, the traveller had contracted an intimacy 
 with a daughter of the Laird of Bonnington, and the lovers having 
 been caught by the young lady's brothers, they were so indignant that 
 they used the unfortunate youth in the most barbarous manner, and 
 cut off his ears. As he could apparently in those times get no redress 
 • — for the female is represented to have been of a powerful family — he 
 
 * From the Hebrew.
 
 Prefatory Remarks. xi 
 
 left Scotland for years. The vexation was increased by the outrage 
 having become public, and the people so far from sympathising with 
 him, ridiculed him as " Cut lugged Willie." 
 
 In further evidence of the tradition, Mr Lithgow of Stanmorc, in- 
 formed the writer of these observations, that the grandfather of Dr. 
 Newbigging, the eminent Edinburgh physician, when mentioning this 
 story, stated that the house where this abominable act was perpe- 
 trated had become his property, and was well known by reason of the 
 outrage committed in it. Generally speaking, family repute is to a 
 certain extent evidence, and it has been admitted, at least, " de bene 
 esse" as the English lawyers have it, in many cases of pedigree, even 
 by that most suspicious of all tribunals, the House of Lords. The only 
 material difficulty is, to apply the epithet of Dalilah to a respectable 
 woman. Giving due weight to the natural and just anger of the injured 
 youth against the brothers, there can be no excuse for maligning the 
 sister, and calling her by the name of the deceitful mistress of Samson. 
 
 Taking Lithgow's own statement in connection with the tradition, 
 the truth probably is, that having had the misfortune to form a con- 
 nection with a female of higher position than his own, whether pure 
 or impure cannot now be ascertained — the liason had been dis- 
 closed in some way or other to her brothers, who caught the two 
 offenders in the house in Lanark where they were accustomed to 
 meet. That their victim believed, at least in after years, he had been 
 betrayed by her, may explain why he applied the offensive epithet to 
 his lady love. 
 
 The exact period of Lithgow's birth has not been ascertained, but 
 as the outrage upon his person was perpetrated when he was a minor, 
 and as he left the place of his birth shortly afterwards, there are 
 reasonable grounds for presuming that it took place between 1580 and 
 1590. On the 7th of March 1609 Lithgow left Paris for Italy, 
 having previously, as he informs us, taken two voyages to the Orcades 
 and Shetland Isles, and after surveying, " in the stripling age of his 
 
 B
 
 xii Prefatory Remarks. 
 
 adolescence," Germany, Bohemia, Switzerland, and the low countries. 
 Supposing he was twenty-four years of age in 1609, the time of his 
 nativity may be fixed in 1585. 
 
 Upon Lithgow's return to Great Britain he gave to the world the 
 first fruits of his travels. This very rare edition, in small 4to, was 
 printed in London in 1614, and the only copy that has been traced 
 is the one formerly in the library of the late George Chalmers (No. 
 695), which was purchased by Mr Thorpe for the late William Henry 
 Miller of Craigintinny. In the Sale Catalogue the following note was 
 appended to the entry : — " This edition is not mentioned by Lowndes. 
 Ben Jonson assisted Lithgow with money for his travels, and S. 
 Grahame, author of ' The Anatomic of Hu?norsJ prefixed verses to his 
 book." 
 
 The " second impression " was printed at London in 1616, with the 
 following commendatory Poems prefixed : — 
 
 I. To my deere friend, Countriman and Condisciple, 
 William Lithgow. 
 
 Rest Noble Spirits in your Native Soiles, 
 
 Whose high-bred thoughts on deare-bought sights are bent ; 
 Renowned Lithgow by his brave attempt 
 
 Hath eas'd your bodies of a world of toyles. 
 
 Nor like to some, who wrongfully retaine 
 Gods rarest gifts within themselues ingrost. 
 But what thou hast attain'd with care and cost. 
 Thou yieldst it gratis to the world againe. 
 
 Vpon the Bankes of wonder-bending Glide, 
 To these designes thy heart did first assent ; 
 One way, indeed, to give thy selfe content. 
 But more to satisfie a world beside.
 
 Prefatory Remarks. xiii 
 
 Thy first attempt in excellence of worth. 
 
 Beyond the reach of my conceits confinde. 
 
 But this thy second pilgrimage of minde. 
 
 Where all thy pains are to the world set forth 
 In Subject, Frame, in Methode, Phrase, and Stile, 
 May match the most vnmatched in this He ; 
 But this renownes thee most, t'have still possest 
 A constant heart within a wandring brest. 
 
 Robert Allen. 
 
 2. To his most affectionate friend, W. Lithgow. 
 
 No Arabs, Turkes, Moores, Sarazens, nor strangers. 
 Woods, Wildernesse, and darke vmbrag'ous caues. 
 No Serpents, Beasts, nor cruell fatall dangers. 
 Nor sad regrates of ghostly growing graues. 
 
 Could thee affright, disswade, disturbe, annoy 
 
 To venture life to winne a world of ioy. 
 
 This Worke, which pompe-expecting eyes may feed, 
 
 To vs, and Thee, shall perfect pleasure breed. 
 
 W. A. 
 
 The verses by Robert Allen are graceful enough. The lines signed 
 W. A. are of a magniloquent character, and somewhat resemble the 
 productions of Sir William Alexander, afterwards Earl of Stirling. Of 
 this edition, which is almost as rare as the preceding one, there is a 
 copy in the Library of the Faculty of Advocates. 
 
 In 1618 there issued from the press of Andro Hart, at Edinburgh, 
 " The Pilgrimes Farewell, to his Natiue Countrey of Scotland.'^ This 
 interesting tract in verse has now been for the first time reprinted 
 from a copy in the Library of the Faculty of Advocates. The wood-
 
 xiv Prefatory Remarks. 
 
 cut of the author on the back of the title, we believe, is the earliest 
 portrait of the eccentric " Pilgrim." It was unknown to Granger,* who 
 was aware only of the one which occurs in the first complete edition 
 of his travels, published at London in 1632, and represents Lithgow in 
 his Turkish dress, with his staff in his hand. 
 
 Allusion has already been made to the seizure of Lithgow by the 
 Inquisition at Malaga, and to the deeply painful but exciting 
 account of his subsequent sufferings, and ultimate escape. A separate 
 account has been reprinted in Morgan's "Phoenix Britannicus^^ and is 
 given at length in the edition of his travels, to be immediately noticed. 
 Upon returning to England in his mangled state he was naturally the 
 object of great commiseration, and by the order of the " sapient " 
 monarch, he was ordered to be carried to Theobald's, that his 
 Majesty might be an eye witness of his " martyred anatomy." The 
 Court crowded to see him, and his Majesty sent him at his own ex- 
 pense twice to Bath. Gondomar promised to obtain suitable repara- 
 tion, but without the slightest intention of redeeming his promise. 
 When the clever but unprincipled ambassador was about to leave 
 England, Lithgow encountered him in the presence chamber, and was 
 not sparing of his reproaches. This war of words was followed by 
 blows, and as the traveller has it, the ambassador " had his fistula con- 
 trabanded with his fist."t For this offence Lithgow was sent to the 
 Marshalsea, where he continued a prisoner for nine months. In the 
 next reign Lithgow brought his case before the Upper House, but 
 there is no evidence that his application was successful. 
 
 It is probable that, after the termination of his imprisonment, Lith- 
 gow returned to Scotland, as in 1623 he was served heir to his father. 
 His opinion of the state of his native country, or perhaps it would be 
 
 * Vol. II., p. 153, 5th Edition, 8vo, London 1824. 
 
 -J- Gondomar was suffering from fistula, which occasioned his using a perforated 
 chair, as exhibited in one of his prints.
 
 Prefatory Remarks. xv 
 
 more proper to say, its " lamentable and desolate condition," which 
 he was courageous enough to address to his Sovereign, in the able 
 and patriotic sketch, which we venture to think is the chief attrac- 
 tion of the present volume. But of this afterwards. Meanwhile 
 he was engaged in arranging and collecting into one volume his three 
 voyages, during which " his painfull feet have traced over, besides 
 passages of seas and rivers, thirty-six thousand and odd miles, which 
 draweth near to twice the circumference of the whole earth." This 
 has been asserted to be " incredible." Yet — although there may 
 be some exageration — when we remember that Lithgow had been 
 almost continually travelling one way or the other from his youth for 
 twenty years, perhaps more, — his assertion is not quite so marvellous as 
 at first sight it might appear. 
 
 In 1632 the first collected edition of Lithgow's Travels appeared, 
 with numerous recommendatory verses prefixed. They commence 
 with a poetical address by Patrick Hannay : — 
 
 (i.) To his Singular Friend 
 Maister Lithgow. 
 
 The double trauell {Lithgow) thou hast tane. 
 One of thy Feete, the other of thy Brane, 
 Thee, with thy selfe, doe make for to contend. 
 Whether the earth, thou'st better pac'd or pend. 
 Would Malagaes sweet liquor had thee crownd, 
 And not its treechery, made thy ioynts vnsound. 
 For Christ, King, Countrey, what thou there indur'd 
 Not them alone, but therein all iniur'd : 
 Their tort'ring Rack, arresting of thy pace 
 Hath barr'd our hope, of the world's other face : 
 Who is it sees this side so well exprest. 
 That with desire, doth not long for the rest. 
 
 C
 
 xvi Prefatory Remarks. 
 
 Thy trauell'd Countreyes so described be. 
 
 As Readers thinke, they doe each Region see. 
 
 Thy well compacted matter, ornat stile. 
 
 Doth them oft, in quicke sliding Time beguile. 
 
 Like as a Mayde, wandering in Floraes Boures 
 
 Confind to small time, of few flitting houres. 
 
 Rapt with delight, of her eye pleasing treasure. 
 
 Now culling this, now that Flower, takes such pleasure 
 
 That the strict time, whereto she was confin'd 
 
 Is all expir'd ; whiles she thought halfe behind. 
 
 Or more remayn'd : So each attracting line 
 
 Makes them forget the time, they doe not tyne : 
 
 But since sweet future trauell, is cut short. 
 
 Yet loose no time, now with the Muses sport ; 
 
 That reading of thee, after times may tell. 
 
 In Trauell, Prose, and verse, thou didst excell. 
 
 Patrick Hannay. 
 
 Hannay was a Scotsman, and a favourable specimen of his poetical 
 powers will be found in Ellis' collections.* 
 
 In Longman's " Bibliotheca Anglo Poetica " (No. 46), there occurs 
 the following article : — 
 
 " A Happy Husband, or Directions for a Maid to chuse her Muse, 
 Together with a Wives Behaviour after Marriage, by Patrick Hannay, 
 Gent., London. — Printed by John Harland, 1619, pp. 26." 
 
 See also " The Censura Liter aria^ by Brydges, Vol. 5, p. 365-369. 
 He was also the author of " Two Elegies on the late Death of our 
 Soveraigne Queene Anne, with Epitaph's written by Patrick Hannay, 
 
 * Vide Specimens of the Early English Poets, vol. 3, p 135.
 
 Prefatory Remarks. xvii 
 
 M. of Arts, London. — Printed by Nicholas Okes, 1619. Dedicated 
 to Prince Charles." 
 
 It may be noticed that Okes was the printer of the " Total Dis- 
 course " of Lithgow's " Rare Adventures" the work just mentioned. 
 Perhaps Hannay recommended his friend the traveller to his own 
 printer. 
 
 (2.) To his dearly respected friend 
 William Lithgow. 
 
 Shall Homer sing of stray'd Flysses toyle ? 
 
 From Greece to Memphis, in parch'd j^gypts soyle : 
 
 Flank'd with old Piramedes, and melting Nyle, 
 
 Which was the furthest, he attayn'd the while : 
 
 A length of no such course, by ten to one. 
 
 Which thou thy selfe pedestrially hast gone : 
 
 Then may thy latter dayes out-strip old times. 
 
 That now hast scene. Earths circulary climes : 
 
 And far beyond Vlysses, reach'd without him. 
 
 Both East and West, yea. North and South about him : 
 
 Which here exactly, thou hast sweetly sung 
 
 In ornat style, in our quick flowing tongue j 
 
 Of Lawes, Religion, customes, manners, rites 
 
 Of Kings and people : life sublimest sprits. 
 
 In policies and gouernment : Earths spaces 
 
 From soyle to soyle, in thy long wandring traces. 
 
 But what my soule applaudes ! and must admire 
 
 Which eu'ry zealous Christian, should desire 
 
 To learne and know ; is this, Spaines tortring Racke 
 
 And torments sharpe, which for the Gospells sake 
 
 Thou constantly didst beare : O ioyfull payne ! 
 
 Whilst Grace in those sad pangs, did thee sustaine.
 
 xviii Prefatory Remarks. 
 
 With loue and patience : O blest liuely faith I 
 That for Christ's cause, condemned was to death. 
 Liue then (O liuing Martyr !) still renown'd 
 Mongst Gods elect ; whose constancy hath crown'd 
 Reformd Religion : And let heauens thy mind 
 Blesse with moe ioyes, than thou didst torments find. 
 
 Walter Lyndesaj, 
 
 Allen's verses, already given, are here inserted, but those signed 
 W. A. are omitted. This curious circumstance countenances the sup- 
 position, that as the writer had become a very great a man, he was. 
 apprehensive the praise he originally gave as William Alexander could 
 not safely be bestowed upon one who had the boldness to point out to 
 his liege Lord the wretched state of his native country. 
 
 (3.) To his kind friend and countreyman W. Lithgow. 
 
 Thy well adventur'd Pilgrimage I prayse. 
 Although perform'd with perrill and with paine. 
 Which thou hast pen'd, in more than vulgar phrase 
 So curiously, so sweetly, smooth, and plaine. 
 Yet whilst I wondring call to minde againe. 
 That thou durst goe, like no man else that liues ; 
 By sea, and land, alone, in cold and raine. 
 Through Bandits, Pirats, and Arabian Thieues, 
 I doe admire thee ; yet a good euent 
 Absolues a rash designe : So hardest things, 
 (When humane reason cannot giue consent 
 T' attempt) attain'd, the greater glory brings. 
 
 Then Friend, though praise and paines rest both with thee. 
 The vse redounds vnto the world, and me. 
 
 John Murray.
 
 Prefatory Remarks. xix 
 
 (4.) //; commendation of the Author 
 William Lithgow. 
 
 Come curious eyes, that pierce the highest scopes 
 Of sublime stiles : come satisfic your hopes 
 And best desires ; in this prompe Pilgrimes paines 
 Whose deepe experience, all this worke sustaines 
 With solid substance, of a subject deare 
 And pregnant method ; laid before you heare 
 In open bonds : come take your hearts delight 
 In all the colours of the worlds great sight. 
 Come thanke his trauells ; praise his painfull Pen 
 That sends this light to Hue, 'mongst liuing men ; 
 To teach your children, when he, and you are laid 
 As low as dust ; how sceptered Crownes are swaid ; 
 Most Kingdomes gouernment : How rul'd with Lawes 
 The South world is : their rites. Religious sawes : 
 Townes Topographick view, and Riuers courses. 
 Fonts, Forts, and Cittadalis ; scorch'd Asiaes sources : 
 All you may see, and much more than I name 
 Seal'd in the Authors, neuer-dying fame. 
 
 Eleazar Robertson. 
 
 (5.) In Commendations of this History. 
 
 Thou art not hatch'd, forth from anothers traine. 
 Nor yet Collect'd, from others toiles thy sight. 
 The selfe same man, that bred thee beares the paine 
 Of thy long birth ; O weary wandring Wight ! 
 Its carefull he, by knowledge giues the light. 
 And deeupe experience to adorne thy name ; 
 
 D
 
 XX Prefatory Remarks. 
 
 Both Pilgrime, Pen-man, so thy maister right ; 
 Who best can iudge, in what concernes the same : 
 Then free-borne toile, flee forth with winged Fame 
 Thy Countries Virgin, thou the first penn'd Booke 
 That in his Soile, did euer Pilgrime frame 
 Of curious Trauailes ; whereon the Learned looke : 
 Then knit thy maiden brow, with Garlands greene. 
 The first of times, the last this Age hath Seene. 
 
 Alexander Boyde. 
 
 The eulogies terminate with an address by — 
 
 The Author to his Booke. 
 
 Go painfull Booke, go plead thy owne defence, 
 Walke with undaunted Courage, stop the Breath 
 Of carping tongues ; who count it small oiFence 
 To bulge Thee up, within the iawes of Death : 
 Go liuely charg'd, with stout Historian Faith, 
 And trample, downe, base Crittickes in the Dust : 
 Make Trueth thy sword, to batter down their wrath 
 So shall thy graue discourse, triumph as iust : 
 Who yeeld Thee credite, and deseruing trust. 
 There prostrate fal, giue them their hearts content : 
 Point forth the Wise, and court them as thou must, 
 Giue them insight, as I giue Argument : 
 
 Instruct the curious, inlarge the serville mind. 
 
 Illuminate, misunderstandings blinde ; 
 
 Sound knowledge in their eares, deigne to approue me, 
 
 Since Friends and Foes, the World and I, must loue thee. 
 
 L.
 
 Prefatory Remarks. xxi 
 
 The travels were again reprinted in small 4to, in 1640, without 
 any alteration. This was perhaps the previous book with a new title. 
 There was an edition printed on London Bridge, 4to, 1682, of which 
 a copy occurs in a late catalogue of Willis and Sothcran ; and again, 
 in Scotland, in the following century [1770], with a tolerable copy 
 of the Portrait from the edition of 1632. A later edition, not very 
 accurate, emanated from Leith in 18 14, in 8vo. 
 
 Lithgow's veracity has been impeached, and it is asserted that, in 
 narrating his travels, he has drawn very much upon his imagination. 
 We are not disposed to admit the accusation to any material extent. 
 Lithgow had a strangely constituted mind, indulged in the most fan- 
 tastic notions, used the most inflated language, and entertained a high 
 notion of his talents as a poet — a sad mistake, as we presume most 
 readers will think if they have courage to peruse that most dull and 
 prosaic production of his entitled " The Gushing Tears of Godly 
 Sorrozv.^^ He may, perchance, from his poetical temperament, have 
 coloured his pictures, but that he traded in fiction we cannot bring 
 ourselves to believe. His seizure at Malaga, his strange and wonder- 
 ful escape from the Inquisition, and his marvellous recovery from the 
 tortures inflicted on him, however incredible, are distinctly proved. 
 Had the story rested upon his own declaration it would have been 
 discredited without hesitation. Yet his public exhibition satisfied the 
 most sceptical, and, at the King's own charge, he was sent to Bath for 
 recovery of his health. That he coidd extract nothing from Gondomar 
 is only an additional instance of the Spanish influence which pre- 
 dominated, for ridiculing which, Middleton, the dramatic writer, 
 suffered smartly. 
 
 The inveterate and bitterly expressed hatred of Lithgow to Popery 
 naturally exposed him to the hostility of the Papists, and formed an 
 essential element in determining the Catholic Monarch and his subtle 
 Ambassador to withhold reparation ; for, not unlike a certain illustrious 
 indivdiual of the present century, it was a state axiom, then as now, to
 
 xxii Prefatory Remarks. 
 
 reverse the old rule, " parcere subjectis et debellare superbos." The 
 candour of our traveller, notwithstanding what has been said of his 
 disregard to truth, is shown in some instances where the revelations 
 are not particularly creditable to himself. For instance, the following 
 adventure, recorded by him, aiFords direct proof of this assertion ; and, 
 lax as the morals of the time undoubtedly were, places our author in an 
 equivocal position. Whilst traversing Sicily, he determined to visit 
 " Trapendie," with the intention of crossing over to Africa. He took 
 up his abode in the " Bourge of Saramutza," belonging to a young 
 Sicilian Baron. Our traveller rose early one morning with the inten- 
 tion of visiting the young Baron of Castello Franco, at a distance of eight 
 miles. He had got about half way, when to his astonishment he be- 
 held the youthful Lords of Saramutza and Castello Franco lying dead 
 in a field, and their horses tied to trees in the vicinity adjoining the 
 road. It seems that they had quarrelled about the love of a noble 
 Dame of the country, and had settled their differences by slaying each 
 other. Hence, as Lithgow has it, " Troppo amore " turned " Presto 
 dolore." " Upon which sight," continues the peripatetic Scotchman, 
 " to speak the truth, I searched both their pockets, and found their two 
 silken purses full loaden with Spanish pistoles ; whereat my heart 
 sprung for joy ; and taking five rings off their four hands, I hid 
 them and the two purses in the ground half a mile beyond this 
 place, and returning again, leaped upon one of their horses, and came 
 galloping back to Saramutza." This, it must be confessed, was a trick 
 worthy of Don Raphael, or his friend Ambrose Lamela ; of course, he 
 informed the family of the disastrous occurrence, and having done so 
 without hesitation, took his speedy way to Castello Franco, where he 
 repeated the same story. He left both families in a distracted state, and, 
 having repossessed himself of his hidden treasure, fled from the spot as 
 fast as he could. The gold in the purses consisted of " three hundred 
 and odd double pistoles, and the rings, being set with diamonds, and 
 valued at one hundred chezqueens of Malth (eight shillings the piece).
 
 Prefatory Remarks. xxiii 
 
 he " dispatched " for less. " But the gold was my best second, which, 
 like Homer's Illiades under Alexander's pillow, was my continual vade 
 mecumr 
 
 The palliation of this nice bit of theft shall be given in the author's 
 own words : — " Well, in the mutability of time there is aye some for- 
 tune falleth by accident, whether lawful or not, I will not question ; 
 it was now mine that was last theirs ; and to save the thing that was 
 not lost, I travailed that day thirty miles to Terra Noua, where, the 
 next morning, being early embarked for Malta, and there safely landed, 
 I met with a ship of London called * The Mathew.' " * Trapendie is 
 evidently Trapani. In the time of the Carthagenians it was the scene 
 of a celebrated sea fight between them and the Romans (b. c. 249.) 
 It was then called Drepanum. From its being immediately opposite the 
 African coast, there is still a considerable traffic in salt, coral, and 
 such like articles. 
 
 For a young man, tlie job was certainly very ingeniously and judi- 
 ciously managed. To prevent any suspicion falling upon himself, the 
 plunder was carefully secreted, then the friends were informed of the 
 melancholy event ; — meanwhile, the traveller quietly removed from 
 the scene of the tragedy, and securing his prize, got oiF before any 
 question arose either as to the loss of the money or the diamonds. 
 The latter commodity was disposed of under their value on the earliest 
 opportunity, and as to any identification of the doubloons, that was 
 out of the question. One remarkable feature of the case is his 
 subsequent disclosure to the public of an act which was certainly little 
 better than a positive robbery. He must have viewed the matter in 
 a very different light from what it would be considered in this en- 
 lightened age, in which deeds equally discreditable daily occur, but 
 which the perpetrators contrive to keep to themselves if they can, and 
 not publish to mankind. 
 
 • The Nineteen Years' Travels of William Lithgow, p. 355, edition 1632. 
 
 E
 
 xxiv Prefatory Remarks. 
 
 Lithgow had intended to visit Russia, and, as he tells us, left, on the 
 i6th of May 1637, "the truly noble and magnanimous Lord Alex- 
 ander, Earle of Galloway," mounted upon a " Gallowedian nagge," and 
 passing into Cumberland he paid his court to " Docter Potter, that 
 Painfull Preacher and religious prelate the Lord Bishop of Carleisle." 
 He next visited Doctor Morton, Lord Bishop of Durham, and enter- 
 ing Yorkshire, " made homage unto Docter Niell, my singular good 
 Lord and friend the Archbishop of York, where leaving his Grace in 
 the fulnesse of his deserved dignity I arrived in London and so to 
 Court." These Church dignitaries were men of learning and virtue, 
 and we have purposely referred to them as proving that Lithgow must 
 have been considered by them as a man entitled to notice. Is it 
 likely that they would countenance for one moment a person of 
 equivocal character? 
 
 " Divers weeks being spent," continues our author, " in beholding 
 the changes and viscissitudes of time and fortune, whereof I was both 
 a testator and probator, I left the new-begun Progresse, and stepped 
 down to Gravesend ; where staying for my Russian voyage and shipp- 
 ing fayling, the Summer being also gone I resolved to goe see Breda." 
 The vessel he embarked in was commanded by a skipper, who was 
 unhappily both " fearful and ignorant," so much so, that he and the 
 other passengers were much put about, and were landed sixty miles 
 from Rotterdam, the place of their destination, by which means it cost 
 the " passengers above zoo English Crownes." 
 
 Upon his return, Lithgow gave the fruits of his travels to his 
 countrymen in the following work : — " A True and Experimental! 
 Discourse, upon the beginning, proceeding, and Victorious event of 
 this last siege of Breda, with the Antiquity and Annexing of it to the 
 House of Nassau, and the many alterations it hath suffered by Armes, 
 and Armies within these threescore yeares. Together with the 
 prudent Plots, Projects, and Policies of Warre : The Assailants and 
 Defendants matchlesse man-hood, in managing Martiall Affaires :
 
 Prefatory Remarks. xxv 
 
 The misery and manner of Souldiers living, their pinching, want, and 
 fatall accidents : Strange weapons" and Instruments used by both parties 
 in Seuerall Conflicts. Lastly, their Concluded Articles, with the 
 Circumstances and ordering of the Siege and Victory. Being pleasant 
 to peruse and profitable to observe. Written by him who was an 
 Eye-witnesse of the siege — William Lithgow. London: Printed by J. 
 Okes for J. Rothwel, and are to be Sold at his Shop in Paul's Chnrch- 
 Yard at the Signe of the Sunne. 1637." 
 
 To this work was prefixed the following commendatory verses : — 
 
 (i.) To his Singular Friend and Renowned Travailer, Mr Lithgow. 
 
 Can not this He, thy wandring minde contayne. 
 
 When age hath crown'd thy Forrain toiles & sight. 
 
 But now that Belgia must thy stepps sustaine. 
 
 To prie where Mars involves his awfull might : 
 
 Thy former Travailes lend the World great light. 
 
 And after times thy memory shall praise : 
 
 But now Breda claimes in thy paines a right 
 
 To rouze her worth, her strength, her change, her strayes : 
 
 Thou bringst remotest toiles, to home-bred waies. 
 
 And turnes thy tune, to sing a Tragick song. 
 
 It's done, and wel, each work thy merits raise. 
 
 Patron of Pilgrims, Poet, Pen-man long. 
 
 A Souldier's phrase thy curious stile affords. 
 To fit the subject, with their deeds and words. 
 Soare then (brave Spark) on flying wings of Fame, 
 That in this taske, reuives thy living name. 
 
 Alexander Grahame.
 
 xxvi Prefatory Remarks. 
 
 (2.) To his Peculiar Associate, and Pilgrimagious Brother, 
 William Lithgow. 
 
 From Paris once to Rome with thee I went. 
 But further oiF thy brave designe was bent. 
 Which thou atchieved, in two-fold Asia twice. 
 And compass'd Europe, courted AfFricke thrice. 
 O curious toile ! expos'd in soiles remote. 
 But rarer for that rare discourse thou wrot 
 To light the world : and now thy Quil the while. 
 Shuts up Breda, within this Tragicke stile. 
 
 James Arthur. 
 
 This tractate is perhaps the best specimen of Lithgow's prose com- 
 position that we have, excepting perhaps, his amusing " Survey 
 of London.^'' From his strong national feeling, he loses no oppor- 
 tunity of commending the valour of his countrymen, and recording 
 with a laudable enthusiasm many gallant acts performed by them. 
 The enumeration of names is exceedingly interesting. Amongst other 
 worthies, he mentions " that hardy and redoubted gentleman. Colonel 
 Cunninghame, a sonne of the house of Bonnington upon the river 
 Clyde, and one of my condisciples in Lanerk." We notice this parti- 
 cular entry only, because, according to the traditionary account, Lithgow 
 had been indebted to the Bonnington family for the injuries he had 
 sustained in his youth. It is very unlikely that he would have had 
 sufficient charity to eulogise one of a family which had acted so 
 cruelly towards him. Tradition has given the name of Lockhart, 
 and as that family subsequently acquired the Bonnington estates it 
 may have been some of their predecessors who were perpetrators of 
 the outrage.
 
 Prefatory Remarks. xxvii 
 
 Lithgow's next production was occasioned by the sad accident that 
 occurred in the blowing up of the Castle at Dunglasse, which will be 
 found in the present collection of his pieces. It is of very rare occur- 
 rence, not more than two, or perhaps three, copies being in existence. 
 This disastrous event was, according to Scotstarvit, in his " Scandalous 
 Chronicle" brought about by an indiscreet jest of the second Earl of 
 Haddington, uttered in presence of his page, an English lad of the 
 name of Edward Paris. His Lordship had been ridiculing the EngHsh, 
 and calling them a pack of cowards for suffering themselves to be 
 beaten at Newburn. This so nettled the youth, that he took a red 
 hot poker, and thrust it into one of the powder barrels, blowing him- 
 self up with the rest. Lithgow confirms the statement, and asserts 
 that Ned took the kitchen poker, and proceeding to the magazine, 
 where there was eighteen hundred weight of powder, blew it up. He 
 says not a word, however, as to the provocation, but contents himself 
 with abusing the unhappy being, whose revenge was the cause of it, 
 in no measured terms, — so much so, that in the annals of cursing there 
 can hardly be found anything to exceed his maledictions. 
 
 Amongst those who suffered was Colonel Erskine, the third son of 
 John seventh Earl of Mar, who was the subject of the beautiful Scot- 
 tish ballad " Lady Anne BothwelPs Lament" which was erroneously 
 supposed by some to refer to a divorced Countess of Bothwell, whereas 
 the real party was the aunt of the first Lord Holyroodhouse, and a 
 daughter of Bishop Bothwell, who, as Father Hay asserts, " fell with 
 child to a son of the Earl of Marre." One of the verses has peculiar 
 reference to his final catastrophe, and would lead to the inference that 
 the poem was composed after the event : — 
 
 " I wish I were unto the bounds 
 Where he lays smothered in his wounds. 
 Repeating, as he pants for air. 
 The name of her he once called fair. 
 
 F
 
 xxviii Prefatory Remarks. 
 
 No woman yet so fiercely set. 
 But she'll forgive, but not forget." 
 
 The same year in which Lithgow versifies the disaster at Dunglasse 
 he printed, as he informs us, " at his own expense," the " Gushing 
 Teares of Godly Sorrow." Perhaps we judge erroneously in pronounc- 
 ing this to be a most unreadable and unsatisfactory production, so 
 much so, that we would have excluded it from the present volume, 
 had our publisher not been of opinion that its non-insertion would 
 have been injurious to a collection represented as containing the poetical 
 remains of the Traveller. That there was only one edition is not 
 surprising, and the author was fortunate if the sale paid the cost of 
 printing. The only interesting portion is the Dedication to the gal- 
 lant and noble Montrose, one of the few noblemen of whom the Scot- 
 tish nation has cause to be proud, and whose reputation has recently 
 been so thoroughly vindicated by his accomplished biographer. We 
 need hardly mention that the " Gushing Teares " have at least one 
 merit, namely, that of rarity ; for it is not supposed that more than 
 half-a-dozen perfect copies exist. 
 
 Lithgow left Scotland, as he informs us, on the 24th of August 
 1643, embarking at Prestonpans in a coasting ship for London. His 
 voyage was dreary enough, as, between " Forth and Gravesend," he 
 saw only three vessels " two Scotsmen, and one Norwegian." 
 
 On his arrival at the metropolis, his cacaothes scribendi again seized 
 him, and he speedily put to the press, for the instruction of his coun- 
 trymen, " The Present Surveigh of London and England's Estate ; 
 containing a Topographical Description of all the particular Forts, 
 Redoubts, Breast-works, and Trenches, newly erected round about the 
 Citie, on both sides of the River, with the several Fortifications 
 thereof; and a perfect Relation of some fatall Accidents, and other 
 Disasters, which fell out in the City and Country, during the Author's 
 abode there ; Intermingled also with certaine severall Observations,
 
 Prefatory Remarks. xxix 
 
 worthy of Light and Mcmoric. By William Lithgow. London, 
 Printed by J. O. 1643." 
 
 When the Author left Scotland, he tells his readers that, at the 
 period of his departure from his native soil, he was past threescore 
 years, — a statement confirmatory of what the writer of these observa- 
 tions hazarded at the outset. Sir Walter Scott has inserted this piece 
 in his edition of Lord Somer's Tracts,* and has prefixed a few lines, 
 in which, after noticing the dispute with Gondomar, and Lithgow's 
 imprisonment for assaulting him, he remarks, " This circumstance did 
 not increase Lithgow's reverence for the House of Stuart, which was, 
 moreover, diminished by his zeal for Presbytery. It grieves me to 
 say, that his countrymen adopted the opinion of the Spaniard ; and the 
 lower ranks, with whom, notwithstanding, his book was long a favour- 
 ite, distinguished him by the epithet of * Lying Lithgow.' " "Aliquando 
 dormitat bcnnus Homerus ; " and we suspect that our immortal country- 
 man had been slumbering when he dreamt of any popular feeling in 
 favour of Gondomar to the prejudice of the sufferer by the Inquisition 
 at Malaga. The Spanish preponderance was notoriously unpopular. 
 It would, therefore, have been desirable that some sort of evidence 
 should have been brought forward instructing that his own country- 
 men, with whom Presbytery was pre-eminent, and to whom Popery 
 was abhorrent, ever designated him as " lying Lithgow." 
 
 We have only space to give the concluding paragraph of this very 
 curious pamphlet, which deserves to be disinterred from the vast col- 
 lection in which it is bound : — " Neither may I here obumbrate the 
 memorie of this late designe framed for the overthrow of Parliament 
 and London, the discoverie and deliverie whereof was wonderfull, and 
 yet the purpose far more cruel, if it had taken effect : I will not further 
 insist herein, since the oracle of the lower house hath twice already 
 most largely manifested the same, both under print and power. 
 
 * Vol. iv., p. 545.
 
 XXX Prefatory Remarks. 
 
 But this much I may avouch, that if that unnatural attempt had pre- 
 vailed, then and there had I doubtless suffered with the rest, for now 
 as I live to Malaga a living martyr, so then they had sacrificed me with 
 London, a dying martyre. Yea, and the like designe, and that same 
 time, was contrived against Bristol, whereupon there were two of the 
 villaines hanged for their paines. There was a solemn thanksgiving 
 to God through London June 15 th, and the country about, for that 
 happie day of their deliverance, and fourty-six of their adversaries taken, 
 and under tryall of the martial) law. And although every man 
 wisheth and speaketh as he affects, yet have I indifferently (like to the 
 passenger sayling betweene Scylla and Charibdis) carryed myself to 
 neither hand, but in a just way keeping a right course, least I should 
 have offended the truth, and so have slaine the honesty of my good in- 
 tention ; for though it is impossible to give all parties content, yet I 
 had rather please many as to offend any. And now to close : Al- 
 mighty God preserve aright and sanctifie the royall heart of our dread 
 liege and governour. And now, good Lord, either in thy mercy con- 
 vert the Papists, else in thy furie confound them, and turne their 
 bloudy swords back in their own bosomes, that their devilish designes 
 may never henceforth prevaile any more against thy saints and choice- 
 lings ; and send us, and all true believers, the life and light of peace 
 and truth. Amen." 
 
 This distinct avowal of Lithgow of his anxiety to keep well with 
 both sides is characteristic of the man, and qualifies the observations of 
 Sir Walter Scott, that his great zeal for Presbytery had weakened his 
 attachment to the Stuart Dynasty. He purposely pointed out, when 
 recording his departure from Galloway for the English metropolis, 
 the kind manner in which he had been received by the Ecclesiastical 
 Peers he visited diu-ing his progress south — a circumstance assuredly 
 establishing that his zeal for the followers of Calvin was not so great as 
 to preclude his paying court to Episcopal dignitaries. The truth is. 
 Popery was his bugbear, and he was not likely ever to forget the cruel
 
 Prefatory Remarks. xxxi 
 
 usage he received at Malaga. It was consequently a natural result, 
 that in his productions he should take every opportunity of exposing, 
 in the bitterest language, his feelings of hatred and detestation towards 
 Popery. 
 
 The last acknowledged production of our indefatigable traveller 
 was — " An Experimental and Exact Relation upon that famous and 
 renowned Siege of Newcastle, the diverse conflicts and occurrances 
 fell out there during the time of ten weeks and odde days ; and of that 
 mghtie and marvellous storming thereof, with power, policie, and pru- 
 dent plots of warre : Together with a succinct commentarie upon the 
 battle of Bowden Hill, and that victorious battell of York or Marston 
 Moor, never to bee forgotten. By him who was an Eye Witnesse to the 
 siege of Newcastle, William Lithgow. Edinburgh : Printed by Robert 
 Bryson, 1645." There are copies of this tract — which, Hke his " Siege 
 of Breda," is full of notices of his countrymen, many of them deeply 
 
 interesting in the Library of the Faculty of Advocates, and in the 
 
 Abbotsford Library. From the latter the late Mr Brockett made his 
 reprint at Newcastle in 1820. At the outset, Lithgow, after a few 
 observations in his ordinary magniloquent style, commences with the 
 following lines : — 
 
 " This long-crossed labour, now it comes to light. 
 And I, and my discourse set in my right. 
 Which reason craved ; for where can truth prevaile 
 But where sound judgment may it countervaile. 
 For what seek I ? in what these times afford. 
 But of my Countrie's praise a just record. 
 Which God allows ; and what can contraires bring, 
 But man for men the light of truth may sing. 
 Else after ages would be borne as blinde. 
 As though our time had come their time behinde : 
 For curious Penman and the Paper Scroule, 
 They are of memorie the life and soule." 
 
 G
 
 xxxii Prefatory Remarks. 
 
 Lithgow's account of the beleaguering of the town is interesting 
 from its minuteness. We have only room for one extract, giving an 
 amusing, but no doubt prejudiced account of its inmates : — "As for the 
 Inhabitants resyding within, the richest or better sort of them, as seven 
 or eight Common Knights, Aldermen, Coale Merchants, Pudlers, and 
 the like creatures, are altogether Malignants, most of them being Papists, 
 and the greater part of all I say, irreligious Atheists. The vulgar condi- 
 tion being a Masse of silly Ignorants, live rather like to the Berdoans in 
 Lybia, (wanting knowledge, conscience, and honesty), than like to well 
 disposed Christians, plyable to Religion, civill order, or Church discip- 
 line. And why ? because their brutish desires being onely for libertinous 
 ends; Avarice, and Voluptousnesse; they have a greater sensuality e, in a 
 pretended formalitye, than the savage Sabuncks, with whom I leave 
 them here engrossed." 
 
 From this period we lose sight of our restless worthy, whose acti- 
 vity, old age had probably lessened to a great extent. Indeed, it is 
 astonishing how, after his sufferings at Malaga twenty-five years pre- 
 viously, he continued so vigorously to battle with the world. It 
 was once believed that Lithgow survived the Restoration ; but we 
 question this, as the supposition is based on evidence of a very slight 
 description. It arose in this way : in the volume containing the 
 remarkable address to King Charles I., there follows a " Parasnesis " to 
 Charles II., in which the writer refers, in a side-note, to " the author's 
 poeme intituled 'Scotland's Welcome to King Charles,' in anno 1633." 
 Hence it was conjectured that as Lithgow had written an address to 
 the unhappy Charles in 1633, he necessarily was the author. This 
 idea was to a certain degree countenanced by the fact that the volume 
 had belonged to Robert Mylne, a well-known book-collector and en- 
 thusiastic antiquary, who having survived for above one hundred years^ 
 must have been a young man of more than twenty years of age when 
 the " Parjenesis " appeared in 1 660 ; and, as he had arranged the con- 
 tents of the volume in the order in which it at present remains, it
 
 Prefatory Remarks. xxxlii 
 
 might be taken for granted that he did so in the belief that it was a 
 supplement to the poem that preceded it.* 
 
 As the publisher has included the " Pareenesis" in this collection the 
 reader can easily judge for himself; but the Editor, who, in general 
 does not consider internal evidence usually very conclusive, is disposed 
 to think, that in this instance it is so, — for it presents the most striking 
 contrast to the euphonistic style of Lithgow that possibly can be con- 
 ceived. Independent of this it so happens that there was a somewhat 
 obscure rhymester who had also addressed Charles I. on his visit to 
 Scotland in 1633, to whom with more probability the authorship may 
 be attributed. 
 
 In 1646 Lithgow must have been approaching seventy years of age, 
 and if he survived the Restoration, which we doubt much, he must 
 have been very nearly ninety. By the kindness of David Laing, Esq., 
 whose extensive knowledge on all subjects connected with the history 
 and literature of Scotland is well known to every one who has had 
 occasion to consult him, the attention of the Editor has been called to 
 a document of singular interest as connected with the fortunes of the 
 traveller. It is the last will of a lady, whom we have every reason for 
 regarding as his mother. The following is an abstract of its material 
 portions : — 
 
 " Testament Testamentar of Alesoun Grahame, sumtyine spous to 
 James Lytgow, merchand burges of Lanark — the time of her deceis 
 quta deceisiut upon the xvi. day of Aprile the zeir of God dmvj " foure 
 
 zeiris." 
 
 1 
 
 (The Inventory is long, and not worth copying.) 
 
 * " zi Dec. 1747. — Robert Myln, writer, aged 103. He enjoyed his sight and the 
 exercise of his understanding, till a little before his death, and was buried on his birth- 
 day." — British Magazine, or London and Edinburgh Intilligencer.
 
 xxxiv Prefatory Remarks. 
 
 " Summa of the Invenrar, - - L.389 i 8 
 
 Dettis awing to the deid, - 703 5 o 
 
 »> jj 
 
 5J >J 
 
 L.I 092 6 8 
 
 Dettis awn be the deid, - 1 2 i o o 
 
 Frie Geir, - L.1079 '^ ^ 
 
 Jt commences thus: — "Wpoun the xvj day of Aprile 1603, I, 
 Alesone Grahame seik in body and hail) in mynd, makis my legacie 
 and latter will in maner following, — In the first I nominal and con- 
 stitutas James Lytgow my husband onlie executr and introt wt my 
 guidis geir and dettis. Item, I leif of my part of geir xls. to be dis- 
 tribut to the pure be the Session. Item, I leif to Marionn Grahame 
 my sister xls. Item, I leif to Wm. Lytgow my sone twa hundret 
 merkis. Item, I lief to James Lytgow my zoungest sone thrie hundret 
 merkis with foure zowis and lambes. Item, I leif to Marionn Lytgow 
 my dochter fyve hundret merkis with quhat funds her fader thinkis 
 expedient to wair upon her quhen scho gettis ane honest mariage. 
 Item, mair I leif to the said Marionn, sex pair of new scheittis, two 
 pair small and four pair round, twa new coueringis, twa kistis, four 
 cuscheonnis, ane brass pott, ane pan, four peuder plaittis, the zoung 
 kow, foure aulde scheip, with my haill lynning and wowin clayth. 
 I ordaine my husband to infeft Wm. my eldest sone in the house and 
 zairdiss barne, and twa half aikeris of land, Reservand his awn lifrent 
 yr of. I leif ourseiris to my bairnes Johne Weir, baillie, Wm. Wakin, 
 and James Lytgow, tailzour, to sie my husband fulfill this my legacie, 
 and sua seillis vp my latter will, day, place, and befoire the witnesses 
 aboue written. In witness quhairof I have causit the Notar vnder 
 written subscrybe these presentis at my command becaus I could not 
 wrytemyselfF. Sic subscribitur "Jta est Gedioun Weir ?iotarius publ. et 
 testis in Premisis manu propria testant. 
 
 " We Mr Johne Nicolson, &c., and gevis and committis the intromis-
 
 Prefatory Remarks. xxxv 
 
 sion with the samyn to the said James Lytgow, onlie cxccur tesf 
 to the said umquhile Alesonc Grahamc, his spous ; — Rescrvand 
 compt, &c,, quha being sworne, &c., and Oliver Kay, merchand, bar- 
 ges of Edr is become cautioner." * 
 
 The will throws important light on the position of the Traveller. 
 We learn from it that Lithgow's parents occupied a respectable station 
 in Lanark, the usual winter abode of the County proprietors. His 
 father certainly was not a laird, in the proper sense of the word, but 
 his moveable estate, for the period, was considerable. Few of his 
 higher-born neighbours could boast of the possession of half his per- 
 sonal wealth. He was resident in a Royal burgh, where he owned 
 in his own right a house, garden, and at least " twa half acres of land." 
 He was in all likelihood what used of old to be called in Scotland 
 " a merchant," — a designation indiscriminately applied in that country, 
 till recently, to all persons in trade, without respect to its being whole- 
 sale or retail. Indeed, in the year 1604 and later, a merchant, in the 
 English sense of the word, was not known on this side of the Tweed. 
 
 The old gentleman, moreover, was a Burgess of Lanark ; and it is 
 not unworthy of remark that members of most of the influential families 
 in the neighbourhood did not think it beneath their dignity to be also 
 so denominated. Thus the Carmichaels, originally Lords of Parlia- 
 ment as Barons, and latterly as Earls, were, at least many of them. 
 Burgesses of Lanark. So were the Chancellors of Shieldhill, an an- 
 cient race, — the Johnstons of Westraw, — and many other individuals 
 of noble and gentle blood. These persons usually possessed houses, 
 gardens, and acres in Lanark, which they continued to occupy, until 
 fashion, that inflexible despot, transferred their habitations to the Scot- 
 ish metropohs. 
 
 Neither, in that part of Scotland, did the exercise of a trade exclude 
 intercourse with the landowners. Whilst searching the Register of 
 
 * Edinburgh Commissary Record, Vol. xxxix. 
 
 H
 
 « 
 
 xxxvi Prefatory Remarks. 
 
 Sasines for the Upper Ward of the county of Lanark, the editor was 
 amused with an entry [last day February 1623] of an infeftment in 
 which various parties of different stations are brought together. Thus 
 James Hamilton, tailzeour, is joined with Hugh Carmichael, a son of 
 the deceased Thomas Carmichael, in Eastend, as attorneys for John 
 Carmichael. Next comes James, the lawful son of James Chancellor, 
 " callit lang James," in overtown of Quodquen, as attorney for Walter, 
 a brother of Hugh Carmichael. Then James Muir, whose designation 
 is not given, acts as the attorney of William, another brother, for the 
 purpose of feudally vesting the three brothers in " all and haill the 
 lands of Craiglands, extending to four oxengait of land, now occupied 
 by James Chancellor, called meikle James," and by John Wardlaw. 
 
 The legacy of Lithgow's mother may have been the means of en- 
 abling him to prosecute his violent desire for travel, and as he was 
 desirous of quitting a place where he had been so basely used, her 
 bequest would put it in his power to gratify this desire. The lady 
 bore the honourable and ancient name of Grahame, and perhaps was 
 remotely connected with that noble gentleman the first Marquis, who 
 was, notwithstanding the attacks upon his memory by Puritans, one 
 who was entitled, as the Scotish Bayard, to bear as a motto, " Sans 
 peur et sans reprocheT This belief is strengthened by the circum- 
 stance, that although Lithgow latterly inclined to the party opposed to 
 his monarch, he nevertheless on every occasion speak of the Mon- 
 trose family with the greatest respect and affection. 
 
 We may here, as again referring to the travels, notice a fact which 
 only recently came under our notice, and for which we are indebted 
 to the obliging and learned Librarian of the Society of Writers to Her 
 Majesty's Signet. Lithgow's adventiu-es were not likely to be tolerated 
 in Roman Catholic countries, but in Protestant Holland they attracted 
 notice. They were translated into Dutch, and published in Amster- 
 dam by Jacob Benjamin in the year 1652, in small quarto. The en- 
 graved frontispiece preceding the title is by Christian de Pas, and
 
 Prefatory Remarks. xxxvii 
 
 represents, it is presumed, Lithgovv on horseback, receiving the stirrup- 
 cup from one hand of a fair lady, and clasping the other in the act 
 of bidding farewell, whilst Fame, flying above his head, is proclaiming 
 his wonderful acts with the aid of no less than two trumpets, display- 
 ing at same time a scrolled banner, containing a map of his travels. 
 On one side, in front, " Hispania " is placed on a pedestal, and imme- 
 diately opposite, " Vrancryck " [France]. The former is pourtrayed 
 as an elderly gentlewoman, at least the figure very much resembles one. 
 Of the gender of the other there can be no mistake. The body is 
 somewhat plump, and has a slight look of the portraits of that very 
 injudicious lady, Henrietta Maria, whose bad advice had no small effect 
 in bringing about the calamitous event that made her a widow. 
 Several well-executed engravings occur at various places, and at page 
 I'j of the concluding portion of the volume will be found a remarkably 
 striking representation of the torturing of Lithgow at Malaga. The 
 Dutch translator evidently knew nothing of his author's parentage, or 
 of his existence at the time, if, in point of fact he was then alive. He 
 designates him as an Englishman, perhaps thinking he was safe in so 
 doing, as Cromwell had in a manner extinguished Scotland as a sepa- 
 rate and independent nation. It may hardly be necessary to state that 
 this Dutch edition is of great rarity, at least in this country, and the 
 only copy that has fallen under the editor's notice is one in very fine 
 condition in the library of David Laing, Esq. 
 
 Nothing has hitherto been discovered in relation to the brother and 
 sister mentioned in the will of Mrs Alison Grahame or Lithgow, 
 although it may be conjectured that the considerable dowry bequeathed 
 by her mother, to say nothing as to what might have been gifted by 
 her father, would afford a great attraction even to the landed proprie- 
 tors in the vicinity, to whom five hundred merks would have been a 
 very handsome marriage portion, irrespective of the household plen- 
 ishing, not to mention the young cow and " the foure auld scheip." 
 We can hardly imagine that a young lady with such seductive attrac-
 
 xxxviii Prefatory Remarks. 
 
 tions could be allowed to remain by some of the Chancellors, or the 
 Johnstons, the Lockharts, or even the lordly Carmichaels, in a state of 
 single blessedness. 
 
 There is one remarkable injunction, or rather command, in the tes- 
 tament, which would induce a belief that Mrs Lithgow not only expected 
 to get, but actually got, after the usual fashion, very much of her own 
 way, for she ordains her husband to infeft William in the house, yard, 
 and half-acres in Lanark. It is hardly necessary to observe, that as 
 the house, &c., belonged to the husband in fee-simple, the wife had no 
 legal right whatever to control him in any way as to its ultimate des- 
 tination. She does not merely express a wish that the elder son 
 should succeed, but she " ordaines " the father to put his son in posses- 
 sion, subject to his own liferent. Perhaps the hot blood of the gal- 
 lant Grahame's, which flowed in Mrs Ahson's veins warranted her in 
 issuing this imperative requisition. 
 
 Of Walter we can learn nothing. He may have been the progeni- 
 tor of one or other of the races of Lithgows which flourished subse- 
 quently in various parts of Scotland. There was a Thomas Lithgow, 
 who owned a tenement of land in the burgh of Pittenweem in Fife, 
 whose daughter Margaret was served heir to him 29th December 
 1 647. She also, of the same date, was served heir to her uncle David 
 in another tenement in the same burgh. This lady married a man 
 of the name of Anderson, by whom she had three daughters, Mar- 
 garet, Mortoun, and Christian, who on the loth November 1652 
 were served heirs-portioners to their mother in the above-mentioned 
 subjects. 
 
 There was another family of the name, who were burgesses of 
 Edinburgh. One of them, Gideon, was a printer of some note. In 
 the index to the retours (26th February 1663) there is this entry : — 
 "Joannes Lithgow, mercator, burgensis de Edin., hsres Gideonis Lith- 
 gow, topographi, burgensis de Edinburgh, fratris immediate junioris, 
 in tenementis in Edinburgh." 
 
 But the chief family of the name were the Lithgows of Drygrange.
 
 Prefatory Remarks. xxxix 
 
 ' " Lithgow of Drygrange in Teviotdale " (says Nisbct) " carries argent , a 
 demi otter sable, issuing out of a loch, in base, proper." 
 
 " William Lithgow, son and heir to David Lithgow of Drygrange, 
 gets a new charter from the abbot and convent of Melrose of the 
 lands of Drygrange, for his special service in resisting, to the hazard of 
 his life, depredators and robbers of the dominion of Melrose, as the 
 charter bears (which I have seen in the cuscody of Drygrange), of the 
 date 1 8th January 1539, which charter is confirmed by King James 
 V. the same year ; and from William is lineally descended the present 
 Lithgow of Drygrange." 
 
 When the Lithgows originally became church vassals of the mona- 
 stery of Melrose is uncertain. From the collection of charters pre- 
 sented to the Bannatyne Club by His Grace of Buccleuch, it appears 
 that there was a James Lithgow in the convent of Melrose, who, with 
 Andro, the abbot and the " hail consent and assent " of the convent, 
 at a chapter held for that purpose, granted to " Elene Lawsoun, ye 
 relyct of umquhill Thomas Wod in Edmenston Grange, and to Thomas 
 Wod, her son," their heirs, executors, and assignees, " beand of no 
 greter degre na ther sellfis," all and haill the forty shilling land pertain- 
 ing " till our malt myll of the said Grange," &c. This document is 
 dated 12th August 1534.* 
 
 Drygrange has now passed into other hands. When the Lithgows 
 ceased to have connexion with it is uncertain, but it must have been 
 prior to 1 748. The Reverend Adam Milne, minister of the gospel at 
 Melrose, who published the " second edition corrected " of his descrip- 
 tion of the parish, therein informs his readers that the Lithgows got that 
 estate in James the Fifth's time, from the abbot and convent of Mel- 
 rose, for resisting at the hazard of life the depredators and robbers of 
 the dominions of Melrose. What follows is not so clear as could be 
 
 * The name of Robert de Lythgow, notary public in the reign of James II., occurs 
 in three instances in the Liber de Melros, 561. 
 
 T
 
 xl Prefatory Remarks. 
 
 wished : " That family was forfeited, and one of the name and family 
 purchased these lands from John Earl of Haddington, as they were 
 lately acquired by Thomas Paterson, and are now the heritage of Mr 
 Colin Maclaurin, professor of Mathematics in the University of Edin- 
 burgh." 
 
 When the alleged forfeiture took place, and for what cause, is not 
 explained. John was the fourth Earl of Haddington. He was served 
 heir to his father on the loth April 1645, and he died on the ist 
 September 1 669. He was grandson of " Tarn o' the Cowgait," the 
 founder of the family. President of the Court of Session, who was 
 created Earl of Melros, a title he subsequently exchanged for that of 
 Haddington. We may be wrong, but we suspect the noble lord was 
 merely overlord of Drygrange, as coming in place of his grandfather, 
 who had a grant of all that belonged to the convent, consisting for 
 the most part of the superiorities of various lands possessed in property 
 by the church vassals.* 
 
 The modern historian of the county of Roxburghe has transferred 
 Mylne's account to the pages of his book, in such a way as to induce 
 his reader to imagine that he was treating of a recent alienation of pro- 
 perty, instead of one made more than a hundred years before. 
 
 In the month of February 1730, there was laid before the kirk- 
 session of Lanark a letter in Latin thus addressed, ' Summe Reverendo 
 Ecclesiae Lauricencis in Scotia Ministerio Domino, Seniori, caeterisque 
 laudati Ministerij assessoribus. — Pateant Landerick." The object of 
 this epistle was to obtain information as to the genealogy of a James 
 Lithgow, and the writer was George Marcus Knock, bookseller, who 
 offers to pay the expense of the inquiry. He says : " Vixit aliquando 
 apud vos Jacobus Lithgow, utrum civis an ex ordine militari fuerit, de eo 
 certe quid affirmare non possum. Loci et temporis, ubi et quando vixit 
 longinquitas hujus rei memoriam ex animo meo delerunt. Vobis 
 
 * The will of William Lithgow of Drygrange occurs in the Commissary record 
 under date of ist November 1 574.
 
 Prefatory Remarks. xli 
 
 autem nihil erit facilius quam ex genuinis documentis me ejus rei facere 
 certiorem. Sigillatim scire desidcro, an Williclmus Lithgow qui in 
 oppido Scotias Landrick tamquam civis floruit, Jacobi Lithgow frater, 
 an vero pater fuerit." 
 
 Marcus Knock then assures the reverend gentlemen that his prin- 
 cipal temporal felicity is dependent on the knowledge of the fact. 
 Wherefore, " per Deum eaquc qua possum animi demissione, vos oro, 
 ut quanta fieri potest celeritate desiderio meo satisfaciatis, literisque ad 
 me datis omnes quas invenire potestis genealogiae hujus cirumstantias 
 mihi exponatis." 
 
 The kirk-session reported that inquiries into the Lithgow genealogy 
 had been made. That they had been successful in procuring what they 
 supposed would satisfy the anxious inquiries of their Dantzic appli- 
 cant. This was obtained, not in Lanark, but in the adjoining county 
 of Linlithgow, where two individuals named John and Daniel Lithgow 
 were discovered. These persons gave originally a certificate, but on 
 reconsideration they wrote a letter to the session, dated 27th Decem- 
 ber 1729, in which they enclosed their joint deposition on oath, taken 
 at Linhthgow on the 25th December preceding, before Sir David 
 Cunningham of Miln-Craig and James Carmichael of Pottyshaw, two 
 of His Majesty's Justices of Peace within the shire of West Lothian. 
 It is so curious that we cannot refrain from inserting it entire: — 
 
 "John Lithgow, solemnly sworn and interrogated upon oath, de- 
 pones, that his grandfather John Lithgow of Botehaugh, near Lanark, 
 in Scotland, had two sons of different marriages. The eldest son, 
 Thomas, succeeded his father ; the youngest son, William, father to 
 the deponent, went abroad. That the said Thomas, uncle to the de- 
 ponent, had of sons William, his successor, and Daniel, gardener to the 
 said Sir James Cunningham, both still alive in Scotland, and a younger 
 son, James, who went abroad about the time of Bothwell Bridge, which 
 was about the year of our Lord 1685, and till the dear years, which 
 was about the year 1699, never returned, at which time he brought 
 along with him to Scotland a wife whom he said he married abroad.
 
 xlii Prefatory Remarks. 
 
 called Mary Crawfurd, of Scottish parents, come of the family of 
 Crawfurd of Jordanhill in Scotland, giving out that in the course of his 
 travels, he had for some time resided in the Duke of Brandenburgh's 
 dominions, and for three or four years after his return to Scotland 
 practised the trade of a tallow chandler in the town of Lanark; that 
 he and his wife again returned to their travels, and since that time has 
 never been heard of by the deponent till now that a letter from Dant- 
 zic to the magistrates and kirk-session of Lanark gives an account of 
 one of that name. That the said James, cousin to the deponent, being 
 bred a merchant traveller, went with the pack into England about the 
 Revolution, which was in the year of our Lord 1688, but since that 
 time has never been heard of till now, that the foresaid letter gives 
 also an account of one of the name, and whether he and the said Wil- 
 liam, the deponent's father be dead or alive the deponent cannot tell, 
 which is the truth, as he shall answer to God." 
 
 As the kirk-session had been addressed in Latin, in transmitting the 
 declaration it was thought expedient to send an answer in the same 
 language, " Eximio viro Georgeo Marco Knock, bibliopolse apud Ga- 
 denses celeberrimo." As we do not suppose our readers will care much 
 for a specimen of the latinity of the reverend gentlemen who assisted 
 in the composition of the epistle, we shall merely observe that after 
 some circumlocution, the authenticity of the mode of proof was verified ; 
 and it is to be hoped that the celebrated bookseller of Dantzic was 
 relieved of the anxiety which led him to institute the inquiry. 
 
 It is evident from this document that the branch of the Lithgow family 
 of which the traveller was so remarkable and distinguished an ornament, 
 had either a very remote relationship to the Boathaugh family, or had 
 ceased to be much known in Lanark. Indeed, it would have been a 
 feather in the cap of the Dantzic worthy if he could have been iden- 
 tified as a descendant of the traveller, and through him have inherited 
 a portion of the " blue blood," as the Spaniards have it, of the gallant 
 Grahams. But there was no proof of anything of the kind, and 
 although the Bibliopole pointed in his letter at a knightly origin, his
 
 Prefatory Remarks. xliii 
 
 hopes on this head must have experienced a sad downfall when the 
 answer came to hand. 
 
 In the "Picture of Scotland'''' it has been remarked, that after his suf- 
 ferings, Lithgow settled down in his native town, married, had ^ 
 family, died, and was interred in the churchyard there. The first 
 of these assertions is disproved by evidence adduced by himself in his 
 account of the "Siege of Breda P in 1637; his "Survey of London^' 
 1643; and his "Siege of Newcastle^'' 1645.* Of the second and third, 
 the writer of these remarks has not seen the slightest evidence ; and 
 of the fourth, it would be most desirable that something like proof 
 should be adduced. It would no doubt, in ordinary circumstances, 
 be a fair inference that a person living in a particular burgh perman- 
 ently, and dying there, would be buried in its churchyard; but with 
 so very erratic a person as the Traveller, the presumption can hardly 
 be accepted. 
 
 Whether Lithgow was originally destined to follow the calling of a 
 tailor is questionable. The belief may have arisen out of the circum- 
 stance that, in his mother's settlement, one of his " overseers " or 
 trustees bearing the same name is described as one. There can be 
 little doubt, whatever the prejudices in the more barbarous portion of 
 Scotland may have been, that in 1600 there were no such paltry feel- 
 ings on the subject of trade in the Lowlands. An honest dealer was 
 regarded as a person who, by probity, perseverance, and economy, 
 had earned for himself a respectable position in the world. 
 
 Latterly a change came over the dream ; but this proceeded 
 entirely from that pride, which, as the ballad has it, "dings a' the 
 kintry doun." The shopkeeper's helpmate was foolish enough to 
 attempt to rival the lady of the adjoining laird, — hence arose discords. 
 
 * It is remarkable that Lowndes, in enumerating Lithgow's works, should not have 
 noticed his poetical account of the disaster at Dunglasse. Its rarity, probably, was 
 the cause of this omission.
 
 xliv Prefatory Remarks. 
 
 heart-burnings, and every sort of disagreeableness, all which uhimately 
 tended to create an almost impassable barrier between " town folk " 
 and " country folk," a separation which exists at the present date in 
 too many localities. 
 
 If Lithgow, when a lad, had been brought up a tailor, it ought to 
 raise him considerably in the estimation of posterity ; but we have 
 not found the slightest adminicle of evidence of a contemporary date 
 of such a fact, and we are inclined to consider the allegation as the 
 fiction of a comparatively recent date. In his time, and very long 
 afterwards, there existed in Lanark an excellent school, at which we 
 have little doubt Lithgow was educated. It may be inferred that he 
 was there when his mother died, and we do not imagine that this 
 energetic lady, when she named a tailor as a trustee, intended to make 
 her eldest son liis apprentice. If she had wished anything of the 
 kind, she would have set it down in her will. In the bond granted by 
 him, which is printed in the Appendix, Lithgow is styled " Generosus." 
 
 The Traveller has been accused of disloyalty to his sovereign, 
 Charles the First, or at least of something very like it. To this allega- 
 tion we respectfully demur. In the Appeal to his royal master 
 in 1633, on the state of Scotland, there is an honest exposition of 
 opinion, and a disclosure of painful truths ; but nothing which can 
 justly be pointed out as disrespectful to his Majesty, or inconsistent 
 with the author's reiterated protestations of veneration and love.* 
 Unquestionably the tortures he suffered in the Inquisition at Malaga, 
 
 * Charles had a fine taste for books, as well as for paintings. Occasionally some of 
 the volumes composing his library turn up, and when exposed to public competition, 
 produce enormous prices. Thus, in the sale catalogue of Bindley's Library, part II., 
 2504, there is a copy of Lithgow's Travels. This is the edition 1632, on large 
 paper. It is " bound in morocco, and formerly in possession of King Charles I." 
 It is characterized as unique, and was bought for the large sum of £29, 8s. 6d. It 
 was purchased by Henry Jadis, Esq ., and was resold at his sale at the enormous price 
 of £42. Lowndes, our authority, does not mention the name of the purchaser.
 
 Prefatory Remarks. xlv 
 
 made him a bitter enemy of Romanism, and influenced him in passing 
 over to the ranks of the Covenanters ; yet it is vsrorthy of note thai 
 the dignitaries of the Church of England were inclined to think well 
 of him, which would never have been the case had he been a Puritan- 
 ical fanatick. 
 
 As we have noticed, with one exception, the various poetical lucu- 
 brations contained in this volume, we have little to add, excepting to 
 call the reader's attention in particular to the " Pilgrime^s Farewell" 
 as affording a somewhat favourable specimen of the writer's poetical 
 talents. There is in it much energy and vigour, and in some instances 
 considerable poetical beauty. The Address to Charles, on the other 
 hand, although deficient in most of the essentials of verse, is, as a pic- 
 ture of the state of Scotland in 1633, of the greatest value, and we 
 cannot sufficiently esteem the manliness of a writer, who in those dan- 
 gerous times, exposed the nakedness of the land and the profligacy 
 of its nobility to the eye of its monarch. His description of Edin- 
 burgh is curious, and the peculiar habits and customs of its inmates 
 are remarkably interesting. His notice of the plaid and its uses, is 
 strange enough in all conscience. 
 
 The exception we alluded to, are the funeral verses to the memory 
 of King James, which appeared for the first time in a volume of 
 Transactions published by the Antiquarian Society of Perth. It is not 
 stated there where they were found, but there seems no doubt of their 
 being perfectly genuine. 
 
 Of the pecuniary value of the original editions, it is not necessary to 
 say more than that they are all of very rare occurrence, and realise 
 large prices whenever they occur for sale. Indeed, of some of them, 
 " The Dreadfull Disaster at Dunglasse " for instance, not more than 
 three copies are known to exist. With the exception of the Travels, of 
 which, when enlarged, there have been several editions, the same may be 
 said of all Lithgow's prose productions.
 
 xlvi Prefatory Remarks. 
 
 We take this opportunity of noticing three errata occurring in pages 
 29, 30 of these prefatory remarks. By some strange oversight, the 
 printer has converted " bonus " into " bonnus," a new reading assur- 
 edly, but one which we suspect will not be accepted even in these 
 days of progress. Then, a little below, the word " buried " is meta- 
 morphosed into " bound." On the other side, on the seventh line 
 from the bottom, the word " he " has been used in place of " we." 
 There may be other errors which have escaped notice, and the 
 only apology we can offer, if it should turn out that such is the case, 
 is the almost impossibility, with every desire to be accurate, to avoid 
 clerical errors, — an excuse which most editors will readily admit. 
 
 We have still one other duty to perform: that is, to return our thanks 
 to those gentlemen who have given us their assistance in collecting 
 these materials for a life of Lithgow. In particular, we have to offer 
 our best thanks to William Lithgow, Esq. of Stanmore, whose com- 
 munications have been of the greatest use ; to G. R. Kinloch, Esq., of 
 the General Register House, for access to his valuable collection of 
 extracts from the Kirk Session Records of Scotland ; and to David 
 Laing, Esq., Librarian of the Society of Writers to Her Majesty's Sig- 
 net, a gentleman always ready to supply, from his inexhaustible 
 stores, invaluable information not elsewhere to be procured. 
 
 J. M. 
 
 25 Royal Circus, 
 July 1863.
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 -0-0- 
 
 I. — Extract from Letter. — Locke to Carleton.* 
 
 " The Spanish Ambr. Gondomar is upon going there, is an other 
 at hand for Sr- Lewis Lewknor hath warrant to goe meetc him. I 
 thinke he cometh this day. The Lo. Gondomar is growne verie 
 colereck, he beate a Scottish man the other day openly with his fists, 
 in the presence of the E. of Gwartzenberg and others, for saying that 
 such a great man in Spayne (of whom the Sp. Ambr. and the Scott 
 who had bin in the inquisition in Spayne were speaking) had not 
 used him like a christian : though the Scottish man tooke his blowes 
 patientlie, yet he was after committed to prison, where he yet 
 remayneth." 
 
 II. — Mr Lithgowe's Bill of Charges in the 
 Marshalsey.j- 
 
 Itt. for IX. weeks dyet and lodgeinge, at XXs. per weeke, £900 
 Itt. delivered since in mony in the time of his sicknes, 
 
 and to discharge his nessessaries, - - 2150 
 
 His comittment feeis, and other charges, - 1168 
 
 £13 II 8 
 
 * State Papers.— Domestic, April 25, 1622, vol. 129, No. 50. 
 f State Papers. — Domestic, June 19, 1622, vol. 131, No. 47.
 
 xlviii Prefatory Remarks — 
 
 III. — Supplication of Aquila Wykes.* 
 
 To the Right Honourable the Lordes and Others of Her Maiestie's 
 Most Honourable Privie Counsaile. 
 
 May it please jol^ honors. According to yor Lops command by yc 
 ho. letter, I humblie pray yor Lops to take informacion of all such pri- 
 soners which remayne under my custodie, by his Maties and yor ho^s 
 comandes. But because yor hors warrants seldome or never express 
 anie cause of their comyttments, I cannot certifie yor hor of their of- 
 fences. 
 
 Patrick Moreton, an old Scotts gent, a servant to his Matie, was 
 comytted uppon great accions of debt, eight yeares past, and hath been 
 allowed on his Maties charge by his Maties directions from tyme to 
 tyme. 
 
 John Baynard, gent, comytted 6 yeares past, by warrant from the 
 Lo. Verulam, then Lo. Keeper of the Great Seale of England, for mat- 
 ter tending to treason against his Maties person. And hath bene by 
 yor hors allowed to bee on his Maties charge. 
 
 Edward Halley, gent, commytted by his Matie close prisoner, Aprill 
 1 6, 1622, fFor whom yor supplicant hath had no allowance nor pay- 
 ment. 
 
 John Knight, dark, comitted by yor hors warrant, 21 Aprill 1622. 
 The cause not expressed in yor hors warrant, on his Matias charge. 
 
 Thomas Whittgifte, commytted by the Right Ho. Mr Secretarie 
 Calvart, Decembr 12, 1 621, and allowed by yor ho"^ to bee on his 
 Maties charge. 
 
 William Lithgowe, committed by the Right Ho. Mr Secretarie 
 Calvart close prisoner, 2 Febr. 1622, and allowed by yor hor to bee 
 on his Maties charge. 
 
 Thomas Russell, committed close prisoner by order from the Right 
 Ho. the Lo. Keeper of the Great Seale of England, Julie 8, 1623, for 
 words spoken against the kinges Matie. 
 
 • State Papers. — Domestic, Oct. 9, 1623, vol. 153, No. 26.
 
 Appendix. xlix 
 
 John Sweet, a Romish priest, committed by warrant from yor he, 
 December 21, 1621, not allowed to be on his Maties charge. 
 
 For all which his Maties said prisoners and divers others, sithence 
 Christmas 1619, discharged by yo"" hors, there remayneth due to yor 
 suppt neere 2000I., as by billes signed by yor hors and others to bee 
 signed by yor hors at yor good pleasures may appear. The disburse- 
 mts and long forbearance whereof, yor hors suppt, sitting at a great 
 rent for the prison, and having but a small allowance from his Made, 
 and being inforced to take up money at interest, hath utterlie undone 
 hym. Whereof his moste excellent Matie being informed, hath bene 
 gratiouslie pleased to signifie his pleasure to the Right Hoble Lo. Trea- 
 surer that yor poore suppt should bee pay'd his said debt. And yor 
 poore suppt. by his Maties v^rritt of Privie Scale, being to bee quarter- 
 lie payd as heretofore (till of late yeares) he ever hath bene. 
 
 Hee most humblie beseecheth yor hoble commiseracion and media- 
 tion to the Right Ho. Lord Treasurer, that yor suppt may bee payd 
 his sayd debt, and be preserved from utter ruyne, who hath most 
 faithfullie to his uttermost power, according to the duties of his place, 
 performed yor ho^s comandes therein. 
 
 Aquila Wykes. 
 
 IV. — Bond of Wm. Lithgow in £200, for good be- 
 haviour and appearance before the Council when 
 required, &:c.* 
 
 Noverint universi per prassentes me Gulielmum Lithgow gene- 
 rosum, teneri et firmiter obligari Serenissimo Domino Regi in ducentis 
 libris bonae et legalis monetae Angliae solvendis eidem Domino Regi 
 heredibus et successoribus suis. Ad quamquidem solutionem bene et 
 fideliter faciendam obligo me heredes et administratores meos firmiter 
 
 • State Papers. — Domestic. Jan. 21, 1624, vol. 158, No. 39.
 
 1 Prefatory Remarks — 
 
 per prassentes sigillo meo sigillatas. Datum z i o Januarii anno regni 
 Serenissimi Domini nostri Jacobi, Dei gratia, Anglias, Scotias, Franci^e et 
 Hiberniae, Regis fidei defensoris, Anglise quidem Franciae et Hiberniae 
 vicesimo primo, Scotiae vero quinquagesimo septimo. 
 
 \The signature has been cut out^ 
 
 Signatum et sigillatum et deliberatum 
 in prassentia Georgii More, Geor- 
 gii Guggin, servientum J. Dicken- 
 son, Clerici Consilii. 
 
 Indorsed. — The condicion of this obligation is such that if the wthin 
 bound Willyam Lithgowe doe hereafter behave himself honestly and 
 dutifully, and tender his apparence whensoever the Lords of his Mast 
 most honble Privie Counsell shall thinke fit to call for him, then this 
 present obligation shalbe voide and of none effect, or els stande, re- 
 maine, and abide in full strength and force. 
 
 V. — William Douglas, the Scotish Poet. 
 
 The Editor is very much inclined to suspect that the real 
 author of the " Paranesis to Charles II." was one William Douglas, 
 author of a poem entitled " Grampius' Gratulation to his High 
 and Mightie Monarch, King Charles" which will be found at the end 
 of a volume of "Addresses by the Muses of Edinburgh to his Majesty" 
 printed in small 4to by the heirs of Andro Hart, 1630. 
 
 As the volume is one of considerable rarity, it was thought that a 
 specimen of Douglas's juvenile muse might not be unacceptable. It 
 is taken from the end, and refers to the departure of royalty from the 
 kingdom of Scotland, The title is — 
 
 Grampius' Regrate at the Departure of his Majestie. 
 
 Ah Reader ! pause a while, and with the eyes of pittie. 
 Behold how soon my songs of joy turn in a tragick dittie.
 
 Appendix. li 
 
 Heere I lament the lose of what I newly gain'd. 
 
 The presence of my loving Prince, which hath not long rc- 
 main'd. 
 Hei mee, why have I beene thus paradiz'd in joy ? 
 
 To be so soone plung'd in the maine deludge of all annoy ; 
 Not so the posting spheres out-drive the flowrie Spring, 
 
 But by a slow serpcnting pace the gray hair'd winter bring. 
 But scarce had I well view'd whom long I wished to see. 
 
 When like a lightning hee did passe in twinckling of an eye ; 
 So doth a poore man dreame hee fangs the Indian treasure. 
 
 But when hee doth awake, his dreame is past, so is his pleasure ; 
 So to the love sick Nymph, her dreames of love bring harmes. 
 
 When she awakes, and finds him gone lay dalying in her arms. 
 If this my soone spent joy may not be cald a dreame. 
 
 Yet of a true realitie 'tis but a glance or gleame. 
 The drudging clown by use can swallow all annoyes. 
 
 Not capable of divine mirth or heroick joyes. 
 But they who on small glance of Tabors joyes did gaine. 
 
 Wished that they never might descend into the noysome 
 plaine ; 
 Had I the nectar of his presence never tasted, 
 
 I could have well the used gall of absence now digested ; 
 But I of late who triumph'd on suns flamming chaire. 
 
 Am cast down in Eridanus ; cold water quenches fire. 
 Yet what ? Not mee alone this palenesse doth appall. 
 
 But even a change is in the face of all within this all ; 
 The Heavens begins to weepe, the imber months appeare. 
 
 The very senslesse things themselves do change their wonted 
 cheere ; 
 The sea doth rore amaine, the sun doth lose his heate. 
 
 The pleasant groves and arbors shake their pompe among their 
 feete. 
 And who within short tyme list to behold my face. 
 
 Shall see a snow whyt winding sheete me round about imbrace. 
 
 Whilst I did view those courts of late minaced the side. 
 Which now like silent Hermit halls alone deserted ly, 
 
 M
 
 lii Prefatory Remarks. — 
 
 I did my sad complaint this elegie begin. 
 
 But loe mine eyes did drown in tears, sighs, boistered so within 
 That from my trembling hand the quivering pen did fall 
 
 At my Parnasaus Ochelh feete where all the muses dwell ; 
 Whair Helicon is turned in Dovons lively spring. 
 
 And where Apollo with more skill this dittie may foorth 
 bring.* 
 
 The ensuing note from the "Catalogues of Scotish Writers," f in all 
 probability refers to the Panegyrist of the Two Charles,—" William 
 Douglasse, Professor of Theology at old Aberdeen. He wrote a Treatise 
 on Psalmedia, 4to ; Item Academiarum Vindicias, 4to ; Item, Ora- 
 tionem Panegyricam de Carolo Secundo, 4to ; Item, Stable Truth, 4to, 
 1660. He dyed towards the year 1670. Item, Vindicias Veritatis, 
 4to, 1655." 
 
 We have not been able to find any of the above works in the 
 Library of the Faculty of Advocates, with exception of the panegyrical 
 address to Charles, which, as we have previously mentioned, Robert 
 Mylne has placed in the volume of tracts, immediately after Lith- 
 gow's poem. 
 
 VI. — Patrick Hannay. 
 
 To the small amount of information contained in the Preface 
 (p. XV.) as to this Scotish Poet may be added the fact that he wrote 
 a volume of verses under the title of " Poems, viz., Philomela ; 
 The Nightingale; Sheretine, and Mariana; A Happy Husband; 
 Elegies on the Death of Queen Anne, with Epitaphs ; and Songs and 
 Sonnets," 8vo. London, 1622. 
 
 * This, it is presumed, is intended as a compliment to Sir William Alexander, 
 the poetical Earl of Stirling, whose Barony of Menstrie was situated at the foot of the 
 Ochills, and where he had an occasional residence. One of his titles was Earl of 
 Dovan or Devon. 
 
 f Edinburgh, Stevenson, 1833, Svo, p. 50.
 
 Appendix. liii 
 
 There was a copy of the work described as above in the possession of 
 Mr Bindley, which brought, at the sale of his library, .£35, 14s,, and 
 having been purchased for the Sledmere Library, was, at the dispersion 
 of that magnificent collection of books, sold for £42, los. 6d. Perry's 
 copy brought £38, 6s., and Wrangham's copy, £40. 
 
 The " Songs and Sonnets," which have a separate title, were reprinted 
 by E. V. Utterson, Esq,, at his private press at Beldornie, Isle of Wight, 
 M.DCCC.xxi. As twelve copies only were thrown off for private cir- 
 culation, the reprint is very nearly as rare as the original. 
 
 " Hannay," observes Mr Utterson, " was one of those heroic spirits 
 who, in the latest age of expiring chivalry, drew their swords in the 
 cause of the unfortunate but high-minded daughter of James I., the 
 wife of the Elector Palatine and titular King of Bohemia." 
 
 As a specimen of his talents, perhaps the reader may not be disin- 
 clined to accept the following Sonnet (p. i 5) : — 
 
 Once early as the ruddy bashful morne 
 Did leave Dan Phoebus purple streaming bed. 
 And did with scarlet streames east heav'n adorne, 
 I to my fairest Coelias chamber sped : 
 She Goddesse-like, stood combing of her haire 
 Which like a sable veile did cloath her rounde. 
 Her ivorie combe was white, her hand more faire ; 
 She straight and tall, her tresses trail'd to ground ; 
 Amaz'd I stood, thinking my deare had beene 
 Turned Goddesse, every sense to fight was gone. 
 With bashfull blush my blisse fled, I once scene, 
 Left me transformed (as it were) to a stone. 
 Yet did I wish so euer t' haue remained 
 Had she but stay'd, and I my sight retain'd. 
 
 In a work to which few persons would think of resorting, and 
 which has been overlooked by Mr Utterson, will be found these par- 
 ticulars of the poet, showing his descent from an old Gallovidian 
 family : — " Ahannay of old, now writ Hannay. The principal 
 family of the name was Ahannay of Sorbie, an old family in Gallo- 
 way ; carried, as in Pont's MS., argent, three roebucks heads couped, 
 azure ; collared, or ; with a bell pendent thereat, gules. But on the
 
 llv Prefatory Remarks, 
 
 frontispiece of a book of curious poems, printed in anno 1622, and 
 written by Mr Patrick Hannaj, grandson of Donald Hannay of Sorbie, 
 are his arms in tali-duce, with his picture, being — argent, three roe- 
 bucks' heads couped, azure ; with a mollet in the collar-point, for his 
 difference, his father being a younger son of Hannay of Sorbie, with 
 a cross-croislet fitched, issuing out of a crescent sable for crest ; and 
 motto relative thereto. Per ardua ad alta^^ * 
 
 Nisbet next mentions that Sorbie has past from the family, but that 
 the representative is Robert Hannay of Kingsmuir in Fife. He also 
 records the existence of another family of the name, " still in Gallo- 
 way, descended of Sorbie," viz., Hannay of Kirkdale. 
 
 * Nisbet's Heraldry, original edition, 1722-42. Dr Murray has a brief notice of 
 Hannay in his excellent, but not properly appreciated, Literary History of Galloway, 
 second edition, Edinburgh, 1832, 8vo, p. 268.
 
 THE PILGRIMES FAREWELL, 
 
 To his Natiue Countrey of 
 
 SCOTLAND: 
 
 Wherein is contained, in way of Dia- 
 
 logue, The Joyes and Miseries 
 
 OF PEREGRINATION. 
 
 With his Lamentado in his second Trauels, his Passio- 
 
 NADO on the Rhyne, Diuerse other Insertings, and Fare- 
 
 wels, to Noble Personages, And, The Heremites 
 
 Welcome to his third Pilgrimage, &c., Worthie 
 
 to be seene and read of all gallant Spirits, 
 
 and Pompe-expecting eyes. 
 
 By William Lithgow, the Bonaventvre of 
 Evrope, Asia, and Africa, &c. 
 
 Patrlam meam transire non possum, omnium una est, extra hanc nemo 
 projici potest. Non patria mihi interdicitur sed locus. In quamcunque 
 terram venio, in meam venio, nulla exilium est sed altera patria est. Pa- 
 tria est ubicunque bene est. Si enim sapiens est peregrinatur, si stultua 
 exulat. Senec. dere.for. 
 
 Imprinted at Edinburgh, by Andro Hart. 
 
 Anno Domini 1618. 
 
 At the Expences of the Author.
 
 THE EPISTLE DEDIGATORIE, 
 
 To the nine Pernassian Sisters, 
 The Conseruers of Helicon. 
 
 jOu sacred Nymphes, which haunt Pernassus Hill, 
 Where Soron flowes, and Demthis run at will : 
 Out from your two-topt Valley shew me grace 
 And on the lower Listes meete mee apace. 
 
 Infuse in me the Veine, I gladli craue, 
 
 To sing the sadde FAEEWELS my SOTLE must haue. 
 
 And yee Supreames of this poore MUSE of mine, 
 
 As Judges justlie censure this Propine : 
 
 I bring no Stones from Factole, Orient Gemmes, 
 
 Nor Bragges of Tagus, signes of Golden Stemmes : 
 
 I search not Iris, square-spread clowdie Winges, 
 
 Nor of the strange Herculian Hydra singes, 
 
 These Franticke Fansies, I account as vaine, 
 
 In Vulgare Verse, my FAREVVELS I explaine. 
 
 If I debord in Stropiate Lines, or then 
 
 In Methode faile, attache my wandring Pen. 
 
 This Veine of Nature, and a Mother Wit, 
 
 Is more than haughtie Schollers well can hit. 
 
 So this small Fondling, borne of your nine VVombes, 
 
 Turnes backe, and in your Bosome her intombes. 
 
 Then nurse your Youngling, and repurge her Veines, 
 
 And sende her backe in haste, to yeelde mee Gaines. 
 
 In doing tliis, to you, and to your Fame, 
 
 I consecrate my Loue, and her new Name. 
 
 Yours, longing to hee drunke of Helicon. 
 
 William Lithgow. 

 
 
 To the courteous peruser of these my sad 
 FAREWELS. 
 
 DEare Gentle Reader, graunt mee this small suite, 
 Reade this ou r kindlie, and no fault impute : 
 I cannot please the Worlde, and my selfe too, 
 For that is more, than brauest Sprites can doe, 
 Heere I am plaine, and yet the plainest way, 
 Is fittest for the Diuine Muses aye. 
 A greater Worke, I meane to put in Light, 
 But LONDON claimes it of a former Right/ - '"^^^^ 
 And if thou knewst how quicke, and in small time, 
 This Worke I wrote, thou wouldst admire my Rime. 
 Though mightst demaund the Reason why I sing : 
 And done ; this Answere, I would to thee bring : 
 There's some that sweare, I cannot reade, nor write, 
 And hath no judgement, for to frame or dite. 
 And to confound their blinde absurd conceat, 
 My J/wse breakes foorth, to shew their Errour great. 
 These Calumnies, enuious Wormes spue foorth : 
 They grieue to see mee set at anie Worth. 
 The Cause is this, These Giftes I haue, they lacke. 
 And from my Merite, they their Malice take. 
 
 ! if I might their Names in Print foorth set, 
 A just Reuenge, their just Desert should get. 
 But to the Wise, the Learned and the Kinde, 
 The Noble Heart, and to the Vertuous Minde, 
 
 1 humblie prostrate mee, my Muse, my Raines, 
 If I can win your Loue, there's all my Gaines. 
 
 To the Courteous, still humble, 
 And to the Knaue as hee deserues, 
 
 William Lithgow.
 
 Some Extewporaneall Lines, 
 
 Written at the verie view of this Poeme going to the Presse, 
 in comendation of the Author his Trauels and Poesies. 
 
 PRAYSE-^^orfMe Pilgrime, whose so spiring Sprite, 
 Rests not content, incentred in one Soyle : 
 Thy Trauels j9as^, though alwayes exquisite, 
 Diuertes thee not, from ivell-intended Toyle. 
 Two Voyages, of Wonder-hi^eeding Worth, 
 And can they not enough thy Fame set foorth ? 
 
 In thy first Course, thy restlesse Paines our past, 
 The Rockie Alpes, and Mountaines Pyrhenees, 
 High Atlas, ^tna, and Olympus wast. 
 With all those Yles, o/Mediterrane Seas. 
 
 Olde Athens, Rome, Troy, Byzans, and ludeea, 
 
 jEgypt, both Arabs, Desart, and Petraea. 
 
 Then chiefest thinges, o/ South, by thee were seene. 
 Both in the Yles, and in the Continent : 
 What rare in Europe, Africke, Asia, beene, 
 But few they are, therewith so well acquaint. 
 
 With lordane, Nylus, and Euphrates strand. 
 
 And cdl the Rareties, of that Holie Land. 
 
 Thy lourney next, did subject to thy sight, 
 
 The Emprours Boundes, and Germane States of Worth. 
 
 Braue Boheme, Transyluania, Hungar ivight. 
 
 And all the Nations, to the furthest North : 
 
 Great Ehyne, and Volg,/rom Danubie declynde. 
 
 The Hans Towns, Dans, Swenes, and Prouinces combynde. 
 
 What restes then, for thy restlesse minde to doe f 
 What lourney next, then shalt thou undertake ? 
 
 Where
 
 Where shall thy neare ivay-weari'd Legges nowe goe f 
 And whither mindst thou noioe this voyage make f 
 
 All vnder Artike Pole, since thou not cares, 
 
 For Antipodes thy passage thou prepares. 
 
 And since nought can thy Sprite from Trauelles seuer, 
 
 Guiana marke, Virginia by the tvay, 
 
 And Terra de la Feugo eeke consider. 
 
 In fortunate Ylandes, pray thee make no stay, 
 Least thou, allurd, by siveetnesse of that Soyle, 
 By Birth, that's due, thou so thy Countrey spoyle. 
 
 But ivhat in tliee most (Lithgow) I admire, 
 
 Tisfloioing Veine, of thy Patheticke Quill, 
 
 FuUie infusd, loith Acedalian fire, ' - 
 
 Whilst to thy Soyle, thou singst thy last Farewell. 
 As Trauelles strange, doth Pilgrime, thee decore, 
 So Poemes rare, shall thee aduance farre more. 
 
 As deepest Daungers can thee not affray, 
 
 No Lyon, Tiger, nor stupendious thing. 
 
 No Barbar, Turke, nor Tartar can thee stay : 
 
 By Trauelles to thy Minde, Contentment bring : 
 Cease not to sing, ivhat tJeou doest see by sight, 
 That Countrey Braise, and Ignorants, get light. Ignoto. 
 
 To his singular Friend, William Lithgow. 
 
 WHiles I admire, thy first and second wayes. 
 Long tenne yeeres wandring, in the Worlde-wide Boundes : 
 I rest amaz'd, to thinke on these Assayes, 
 That thy first Trauaile, to the Worlde foorth-soundes : 
 In brauest sense, compendious, ornate Stile, 
 Didst show most rare aduentures to this Yle. 
 
 And nowe thy seconde Pilgrimage I see. 
 At London thou resolu'st, to put in light : 
 Thy Lyrian wayes, so fearefull to the eye, 
 And Garamonts their strange amazing sight. 
 
 Meane while, this Worke, afFordes a three-folde Gaine 
 
 In furie of thy fierce Castalian Veine. 
 
 As thou for Trauelles, brook'st the greatest Name, ' 
 
 So voyage on, increase, maintaine the same. 
 
 W. R.
 
 Ik^WSkMW^M 
 
 To the Kinges 7nost excellent Majestie. 
 
 1 S T Mightie Monarch, of Great Britanes Yle, 
 jVoucbsafe to looke on this small Mite I bring ; 
 VVliich prostrate comes, cled in a barren style, 
 jTo Thee, Kinglie Poet ! Poets King. 
 
 And if one gracious looke, fall from thy face, 
 then my Muse, and I, finde life, and grace. 
 
 Euen as the Sunne-shine, of the new-borne Day, 
 From Thetis watrie trembling Caue appeares. 
 To decke the lowring Leaues in fresh Array, 
 VVliich sable Night, inuolues in frozen Feares : 
 And EUtroptan-]ike, display their Beautie, 
 Unto their Soueraigne Phoebe, as bound by duetie. 
 
 So Thou th' Aurore, of my prodigious Night, 
 Lendes Breath vnto my long-worne wearie Strife : 
 And from thy Beames, my Darknesse borrowes light. 
 To cheare the Day, of my desired Life, 
 So Great Apollo, as thou shin'st, so fauour, 
 That I, mongst thousands, may Thy Goodnesse sauour. 
 
 Great Pious Paterne, Patrone of Thine owne. 
 This rauisht Age, admires Thy Vertuous VVayes : 
 Whose Princelie Actes, Eemotest partes haue knowne, 
 And wee Hue happie, in Thine happie Dayes, 
 
 Thy VVisdome, Learning, Gouernment, and Care, 
 None can expresse, their Meriles as they are. 
 Long mayst Thou raigne, and long may GOD aboue, 
 Confirme Thine Heart, in thy Great Kinglie Loue. 
 
 The most Humble and Ingenochiat 
 Farewell of William Lithgow.
 
 y^ 
 
 Wfmm^Wi^f/^^^mmt^ 
 
 To the High and Mightie Prince, 
 
 CHARLES, 
 
 Prince of Great Britane. kc. 
 
 LOe heere (braue Prince) I striue thy Worth to prayse, 
 But cannot touch, the least of thy Desertes ; 
 I showe good-will, let brauer Spirits rayse, 
 Thy Name, thy Worth, thy Greatnesse, and good partes : 
 Late famous Henry, did not leaue the earth, 
 (The Heauens esteem'd the Earth too base for him) 
 Till thou his second selfe, in blood, in birth, 
 Hadst strength to his mast Princely parts to dim : 
 Sweet youth, in whome, thy Grrandsires worth reuiues, 
 And noble vertues, are renew'd againe, 
 In Thee, the hope, of that Succession liues : 
 Whose braue beginning, cannot ende in vaine. 
 Most hopefuU Image, of thy vertuous Sire, 
 And greatest Hope, of that renouned Race, 
 These Unite Kingdomes, limite thy desire, '' 
 
 From seeking Conquest, in a Forraine place. 
 This Noble Yle yeeldes matter in such store, 
 For thy braue Sprite, to gaine a glorious Name : 
 And rayse thy State, all Europe yeeldes no more, 
 Heere stay, and striue, to match thy Fathers Fame. 
 
 Who knowes, but thou, resembling him in face, 
 
 Mayst one day Hue, to equall him in Place ? 
 
 So euer Happie Prince, I humblie bring, 
 
 This Eccho of Farewell, Farewell I sing. 
 
 ^o- 
 
 Your Highnesse most prostrate 
 
 and Obsequious Oratour, 
 
 WILLIAM LITHGOW.
 
 To the most Reuerende Fathers in G /), 
 
 My Lordes Arcbbisliops of Sainct Andrewes and Glas- 
 gow, <^c. And to the rest of the Reuered L. Bishops of Scotland. 
 
 Scorne to flatter, and yee Reuerende Lords, 
 I know, as much abhorre a flattring name ; 
 What in my power, this sim[)le raeane aifords 
 I heere submit before your eyes the same. 
 
 I haue small Learning, yet I learne to frame 
 
 My Will agreeing to my wandring Mind ; 
 
 And yee graue Pillars of Religious fame, 
 
 The onlie Paternes of Pietie wee find : 
 
 How well is plant our Church, and what a kind, 
 
 Of Ciuill Order, Policie, and Peace, 
 
 Wee haue, since Heauens, your Office haue assign'd. 
 
 That Loue aboundes, and bloodie jarres they cease : 
 
 Meclianicke Artes, and Vertues doe increase : 
 
 The Crowne made stronger, by your Spiritual! care ; 
 
 Yee Hue as Oracles, in our learned Greece, 
 
 And shine as Lampes, throughout this Land all where : 
 
 The stiffe-neck'd Rebelles, of Religion are 
 
 By you press'd downe, with vigilance but rueth ; 
 
 So line great Lightes, and of false Wolues beware, 
 
 Yee sound the Trumpets of Eternall Trueth : 
 And justlie are yee call'd to such an bight, 
 To helpe the Weake, defend the poore mans Right : 
 So sacred Coluranes of our chiefest Weale, 
 I humblie heere bid your great Worths farewell. 
 
 Your Lo-euer deuouted Oratour to his death, 
 
 William Lithgow. 
 
 B
 
 To his euer -honoured Lords, the right noble 
 Lords, ALEXANDER, Earle of Dvmfermeling, 
 Lord Fyuy, Great Chanceller of Scotland, dtc. 
 
 THOMAS, Lord BINNIE, Lord President of tlie Col- 
 ledge of lustice, and his Maiesties Secretarie for Scotland, &c. 
 And to the rest of the most ludicious and honourable Lords,the Judges 
 and Senaiours of the high Court and Senate of this Kingdome, ^c. 
 
 S tliGU art first (great Lord) in thy great worth, 
 So thou dost Hue a Loadstarre to this North : 
 Next to our Prince, in all supreme affaires, 
 Art chiefest ludge, and greatest wrong repairs. 
 
 A second Solon, on the Arch of Fame, 
 
 Makes Equitie and lustice scale tliy name. 
 
 And art indued with Faculties diuine. 
 
 From whose sage Breast, true beames of Vertue shine. 
 
 Out of thy fauour, then true Noble Lord, 
 
 To this my Orphane Muse, one looke afford. 
 
 AND PRESIDENT, lest flattrie should bee deem'd, 
 I scarce may sing the height, Thou art esteem'd : 
 Euen from thy Birth, auspicuous Starres fore-tolde. 
 That mongst the Best, thy name should bee enrolde. 
 The source of Vertue, who procures true peace. 
 A third Licurgus, in this well-rul'd Greece : 
 Whom Learning doth endeare, .ao^^ wisdome more, 
 That Atla^sYikQ, supportes our Senate glore : 
 Then as thine honours, in thy merit shine. 
 Vouchsafe (graue Lord) to fauour this propine. 
 
 AND yee the rest, Sage SENATOURS, who ewey 
 The course of lustice, whome all doth obey. 
 Whose wisest censures, vindicates vnright. 
 To you I bring this Mite, scarce worthie sight. 
 Yee doe the cause, the person not respect. 
 And simple Ones, from Proudlinges doe protect.
 
 The VViddow findes her Right, tlie Oiplume sort, 
 Aud VVeaklinges yee with lustice doe comfort. 
 Yee with euen haudes Astrcvas Ballance holde, 
 Judges of Right, and Lampes of Triieth enrolde, 
 Long may yee Hue, and flourish in that Seate, 
 Patrones of Poore, and Pillars of the IState : 
 That lustice, Law, Religion, Loue, and Peace, 
 By your great meanes may in this Land encrease. 
 
 Your Lo. most A fold and quotidian Oratou}\ 
 William Lithgow. 
 
 To the truely noble and honourable Lord, 
 
 lOHN, EARLE of MARRE, &c. 
 
 Lord high Thesaurer of SCOTLAND, &c. 
 
 AMongst these Worthies of my worthlesse paines, 
 I craue thy Worth would Patronize my Quill : 
 Which granted, then, there's my greatest gaines, 
 If that your Honour doth afli'ect good- will. 
 
 And whiles I striue, to praise thy condigne parts, 
 Thy selfe, the same, more to the Worlde impartes. 
 
 Though noblie borne, thy vertue addes thy fame, 
 And greater credite is't, when man by merit, 
 Attaines the title of True Honoures Name, 
 Than when voide cyphers, doe the same inherit. 
 
 For Fortune frownes, when Clownes beginne to craue. 
 
 And Honour scornes ip -gtoupe vnto a slaue. 
 
 Euen as the shade, the substance cannot flee, 
 And Honour from true Vertue not degrade : 
 Though thou fleest Fame, yet Fame shall follow thee : 
 For Power is lesse than Worth, Worth Power made. 
 And I, I wish, GOD may thy Race preserue. 
 So long as Sunne and Moone their Course conserue. 
 
 o 
 
 ^ Your L. low prostrate Orafour, 
 
 AVILLIAM LITHGOW.
 
 To the Magnanimous, Renowned, and 
 
 most Valourous Lorde, JOHN Earle of Montkose, 
 LORD GRAHAME, &c. 
 
 GRant this (graue Lord) to patronize my paines, 
 This my Conflict, before thine eyes I bring : 
 If thou affect good will, there's my gaines. 
 I show my best, though plaine, the trueth I sing : 
 A two-folde debt mee bindes. Thy Worth, Thy Name, 
 That still protectes all them that heght a Grahame. 
 So (Noble Earle) accept these small Eflfectes, 
 Thy Vertue may draw Vales ou'r my Defectes. 
 
 To lift thy worth, on admirations eye, 
 
 It farre exceedes, the reach of my engine : 
 
 But this (great Lord) I dare attest to thee, 
 
 While breath indures, this wandring breast is thine : 
 
 And that great loue, I found in thy late Sire, 
 
 I wish the Heauens the same in thee inspire : 
 
 And as his late renowne, reuiues his name. 
 
 So imitate his life, increase his fame. 
 
 That thou when dead, thy Race the same may doe, 
 
 As thou, I hope, shalt once excell thy Father ; 
 
 That time to time, thy long successours too, 
 
 May each exceede the former, yea, or rather, 
 
 The one ingraft, the other stampe it more, 
 
 That who succeedes, may adde anothers glore. 
 So shall thy selfe Hue famous, and thy race, 
 Shall long enjoye the earth, then Heauenlie grace. 
 
 Your LOs most seruile seruitour 
 on his low bended Knees, 
 
 William Lithgow.
 
 A C O N F L 1 C T, 
 
 Betweene the Pilgrime and his Muse 
 
 Dedicate to my Lorde Grahame, 
 EARLE MONTROSE, &c. 
 
 Muse. 
 
 Ftliis small sparke of thy great flame had sight 
 happie I, but more if thou suruay mee ; 
 Thy dying Muse, bewailing comes to light, 
 And thus begins, halfe forc'd for to obey thee : 
 restles man ! thy wandring I lament. 
 Ah, ah, I mourn, thou canst not Hue c5tent. 
 
 Pilgrime. 
 
 To Hue below my minde, I cannot bow, 
 
 To loue a priuate life, there I smart ; 
 
 To mount beyonde my meanes, I know not how, 
 
 To stay at home still cross'd, I breake mine heart. 
 And Muse take heede, I finde such loue in Strangers, 
 Makes mee affect all Heathnicke tortring dangers. 
 
 Muse. 
 
 But, deare Soule, that life is full of cares, 
 
 Great heat, great colde, great want, great feare, great paine, 
 
 A passionate toyle, with anxious despaires, 
 
 Where plagues and pestes, and murders grow amaine : 
 Thy Pilgrimage, a tragicke stadge of sorrow, 
 May spende at night, and nothing on the morrow.
 
 A CONFLICT, 
 
 Pilgrime. 
 No ; Pilgrimage, the Well-spring is of Wit, 
 The clearest Fountaine, whence graue VVisdome springs : 
 The Seate of Knowledge, where Science still doth sit, 
 A breathing ludgement, deckt with prudent things. 
 This, thou call'st Sorrow, great loye is, and Pleasure : 
 If I bee rich in Minde, no Wealth I measure. 
 
 Muse. 
 But, 0, recorde, how manie times I know. 
 With bitter Teares, thou long'dst to see this Soyle : 
 And come, thou weariest, and wouldst make a show. 
 There is no pleasure, but in Forraine Toyle. 
 
 And so forgetst the Sowre. and loath'st the Sweete, 
 To wracke thy Bodie, and to bruise thy Feete : 
 
 Pilgrime. 
 All Rares are deare. Contentment followes Paine, 
 No Heathnicke partes, can bee surueighed, but feare, 
 And dangers too : But heere's a glorious gaine, 
 I see those thinges, which others haue by eare : 
 
 They reade, they heare, they dreame, reportes affect, 
 
 But by experience, I trie the effect. 
 
 Muse. 
 In Cabines, they on Mappes. and Globes, finde out, 
 The wayes, the lengths, the breadth, the heights, the Pole : 
 And they can wander all the Worlde about, 
 And lie in Bedde, and all thy sightes controle. 
 Though by experience, thou hast nat'rall sight, 
 They haue by learning, supernat'rall light. 
 
 Pilgrime. 
 Thou knowst Muse, I had rather see one Land, 
 Be true eye-sight, than all the Worlde by Cairt : 
 Two Birdes in flight, and one fast in mine hand. 
 Which of them both, belonges most to my pairt ; 
 One eye witnesse is more, than ten which heare, 
 I dare affirme the Trueth, when they forbeare.
 
 BETWEENE THE PlLGlilME, Ac. 
 
 Muse. 
 Heere thou proiiail'st, with Mis'ries I must daunt, 
 Thy Braines : Recall the house-bred Scorpion stinj^, 
 The hissing Serpent, in thy way that haunts. 
 The crawling Snakes, which dammage often bring : 
 The byting Viper, and the Quadraxe spred, 
 That serue for Courtaines, to thy Campane Bcdde. 
 
 Pilgrime. 
 I know the World-wide Fieldes my Lodging is. 
 And ven'nious thinges, attende my fearefuU sleepe : 
 But in this Case, my Comfort is oft this, 
 The Watchfull Lizard, my bare Face doeth keepe. 
 By day, I feede her, she saues mee by night, 
 And so to trauaile, I haue more than right. 
 
 Muse. 
 
 The cracking Thunder, of the stormie Nightes. 
 
 The fierie burning, of the parching Day, 
 
 The Sauage dealing, of those Barbrous Wightes, 
 
 The Turkish Tributes, and Arabian Pay, 
 
 May bee strong meanes, to stoppe thy swift returne, 
 To make thee Hue in rest, and heere sojourne. 
 
 Pilgrime. 
 All these Extreames, can neuer make mee shrinks, 
 Though Earth-quakes mooue mee, more than all the rest, 
 And I rejoyce, when sometimes I doe thinke 
 On what is past, what comes the L0B.1) knowes best. 
 
 I can attempt no plotte, and then attaine, 
 
 Vnlesse I suffer losse, in reaping gaine. 
 
 Muse. 
 The Seas and Floods, where fatall perills lie, 
 The rau'nous Beastes, that Hue in Wildernesse : 
 The irkesome Woods, the sandie Desarts drie. 
 The drouth thou thol'st, in thy deare bought distresse : 
 I doe conjure these Feares to make thee stay, 
 Since I, nor Reason, can not mooue delay.
 
 A CONFLICT, 
 
 Pilgrime. 
 Though scorching Sunne, and scarce of raine 1 bide, 
 These plagues thou sing'st, and else what can befall : 
 My minde is firme, my standart cannot slide, 
 The light of Nature, I must trauell call : 
 The more I see, the more I learne to know. 
 Since I reape gaine thereby, what canst thou show? 
 
 Muse. 
 The losse of Friendes, their counsell, and their sight. 
 The tender loue, in their rancountringes oft ; 
 In this, thy brightest day, turnes darkest night, 
 When thou must court harde heartes, and leaue the soft. 
 What greater pleasure, can maintaine thy mirth, 
 Than Hue amongst thine owne, of blood and birth ? 
 
 Pilgrime. 
 The fremdest man, the truest friend to me, 
 A stranger is the Sainct, whome I adore : 
 For manie friendes, from faithfull friendship flee. 
 Law-bound affection failes than framelinges more. 
 
 What alienes show, it lastes, and comes of loue. 
 
 But consanguin'tie dies, so I remoue. 
 
 Muse. 
 A rolling stone, can neuer gather mosse : 
 Age will consume, what painefull youth vpliftes : 
 Bee carefuU, bee, and scrape some mundane drosse, 
 And in thy prime, lay out thy wittie shiftes. 
 
 When thou grow'st old, & want'st both means & health, 
 what a kinsman then is worldlie Wealth ! 
 
 Pilgrime. 
 The Sea-man and the Souldiour, had they feare. 
 Of what ensues, might flee their fatall sorrow : 
 Who cloathes the lillies, that so faire appeare, 
 Prouides for mee to day, and eke to morrow : 
 
 Line where I will GODS prouidence is there, 
 
 So I triumph in minde, a figge for care.
 
 BETWEENE THE PILGRTME, &c. 
 
 Muse. 
 If (deare to mee) thou wouldst resolue to stay, 
 Our Noble Peares, they would maintaine thy state : 
 If not, I should finde out another way, 
 To moue the worlde to succour thine hard fate : 
 
 And I shall cloathe, and lende, and feede thee too : 
 
 Affect my veine, and all this I will doe. 
 
 Pilgrime. 
 To feede mee (Slaue) thou knowst I am thy Lord, 
 And can command thee, when [ please myselfe : 
 Wouldst thou to rest, my restlesse minde accorde. 
 And ballance deare-bought Fame, with terrene Pelfe ? 
 
 No, as the Earth, helde but one Alexander, 
 
 So, onelie I, auow, All where to wander. 
 
 Muse. 
 What hast thou wonne, when thou hast gotte thy will ? 
 A momentrie shaddowe of strange sightes : 
 Though with content, thou thy conceite doest fill. 
 Thou canst not lende the worlde these true delightes : 
 Though thyselfe loue, to these attemptes contract thee, 
 Where ten thee praise, there's fine that will detract thee, 
 
 Pilgrime. 
 It's for mine owne mindes sake, thou knowst I wander. 
 Not I, nor none, the worldes great voyce can make : 
 Thinkst thou mee bound, to them a compt to render, 
 And would vaine fooles, I trauell'd for their sake : 
 No, I well know, there is no gallant spirit, 
 (Vnlesse a knaue) but will yeelde mee my merit. 
 
 Muse. 
 Thou trauel'st aye, but where's thy meanes to doe it ? 
 Thou hast no landes, no exchange, nor no rent. 
 There's no familiare sprite doeth helpe thee to it. 
 And yet I maruell how thy time is spent. 
 
 This shifting of thy wittes, should breede thee loathing. 
 To Hue at so gTeat rate, when friendes helpe nothing, 
 
 C
 
 A CONFLICT, 
 
 Pilgrime. 
 The Worlde is wide, GODS Proiiidence is more, 
 And Cloysters are but Foote-stooles to my Bellie : 
 Great Dukes and Princes, oint my Palme with Ore, 
 And J?oma7ie Clergic Golde, with griede I swelUe. 
 
 It comes as Winde, and slides away like Water : 
 
 These meritorious men, I daylie flatter. 
 
 Muse. 
 
 Mak'st thou no conscience, to deale with Church-men so ? 
 
 When they for Limbus, these giftes giue I know : 
 
 They freelie giue, thou prodigall letst goe : 
 
 And done, derid'st, the Charitie they show. 
 
 But friend, they binde thee, to thine holie Beades, 
 To Pater nosters, Mariaes, and to Creedes. 
 
 Pilgrime. 
 Forbeare in time, I dare not heere insist, 
 An Eele can hardlie well bee grip'd that's quicke : 
 From duetie and desert, I now desist, 
 It's no great fault, ten thousand Friers to tricke, 
 And lesuites too, which Papall harme fore-sees, 
 These Ghostlie Fathers, I oft blinde their eyes. 
 
 Muse. 
 Desist, and I forbeare, so leaue this point, 
 Fear'st thou not Sicknesse, Dangers of the Pest ? 
 The Fluxes, Feuers, Agues that disjoint, 
 Thy vitall powers, and spoyle thee of thy best : 
 
 If thou faU'st sicke, where bee thine Helpers then ? 
 
 Then miserable Thou, forlorne of Men. 
 
 Pilgrime. 
 
 But, my Loue, remarke what I must say. 
 
 The greatest men in trauaile that fall sicke, 
 
 In Hospitalles, for health, are forc'd to stay. 
 
 The circumstance I neede not now to speake : 
 Doctors they haue, good Linnen, and good Fare, 
 And giues it Gratis, Medicine, and Ware.
 
 BETWEENE THE PILGRTME, &c. 
 
 Muse. 
 Thou here borne North, vnder a Climate colde, 
 I thinke farre South, with heat should not agi-ee : 
 And in my minde, I this opinion holdc, 
 These vigrous heats, at last thy death shall bee : 
 I know these Nigroes, of the Austriale Sunne, 
 Haue not endur'd, such heat, as thou hast done. 
 
 Pilgrime. 
 For to conserue mine health, I eate not much : 
 When I drinke Wine, it's mixt with Water aye : 
 They are but Gluttones, Riote doeth auouch, 
 I trauaile in the Night, and sleepe all Day. 
 My disposition and complexion gree, 
 I am not sanguine, nor too pale, you see. 
 
 3Iuse. 
 A murthrer judg'd, set on a wheele aboue. 
 How many pinnes, for murther hast thou tolde ? 
 No lesse than twentythree, I will approue. 
 And dar'st thou in these dead mens wayes bee bolde ? 
 
 Think'st thou thy fortune, better still than theirs ? 
 
 The Foxe runnes long, at last entrapp'd in snares. 
 
 Pilgrime. 
 All that haue breath must die, and man much more. 
 Some here, some there, his Horoscope is so, 
 Bewee are borne, our weirds they poste before, 
 None can his dest'ny shunne, nor from it goe. 
 Nothing than death more sure, vncertaine too, 
 Who aymes at fame, all hazards must allowe. 
 
 3Iuse. 
 But swollen man in thy conceat, take heed, 
 What great distresse, of hunger has thou tholde ? 
 That often times, for one poore Loaue of bread. 
 Thou wouldst (if poss'ble) giuen a worlde of gold : 
 
 Remember of thy sterile Lybian wayes, 
 
 Where thou didst fast, but meate or drinke nyne dayes.
 
 A CONFLICT, 
 
 Pilgrime. 
 Dispeopled desartes, bred that deare-bought griefe, 
 No state but change, no sweete without some gall : 
 Yet in Tolmcco, I found great reliefe, 
 The smoake whereof expell'd that pinching thrall : 
 And for that time, I graunt, I drunke the water 
 That through my bodie came, insteade of better. 
 
 Muse. 
 The vaprous Serene, of the humide night. 
 Which sprinkled oft, with foggie dew thy face, 
 Gaue to thy bodie, and thine head such weight, 
 When thou awak'd, couldst scarce aduance thy pace : 
 And scarce of Springes, did so thy thirst increase. 
 Thy Skinne growne lumpie, made thy strength decrease. 
 
 Pilgrime. 
 I yeelde, thou knowst these thinges as well as I, 
 But when I slept, great care I had to couer 
 My naked face, and kept my bodie drie, 
 The manner how, I neede it not discouer. 
 
 Though thou object these mistes, the clouds forth-spew. 
 
 All thy Brauadoes cannot make mee rew. 
 
 Muse. 
 The Galley-threatning death, where slaues are whipt, 
 Each banke holdes foure, foure chaines ty'd in one ring : 
 Where twise a day, poore they are naked stript, 
 And bath'd in blood, their woefull handes they wring : 
 They roll still scourg'd, on bread and water feede, 
 Twise this thou scap'd, the third time now take heede. 
 
 Pilgrime. 
 At Ceplmlone, and Nigrojjonte I know, 
 And Lystra too, three Slaueries I escap'd ; 
 And tenne times Galleotes, made a cruell show. 
 At Little lies, to haue mee there intrapp'd : 
 
 But their attemptes still failde, I thanke my God, 
 
 Yet I no way can line, if not abrode.
 
 BETWEENE THE PILGEIME, &c. 
 
 Muse. 
 But ah recall, the Hearhes, rawe Rootes yee eate, 
 White Snails, greene Frogs, gray streams, hard beds derayd 
 And if this austiere life, seeme to thee meete, 
 I yeelde to thine experience long assayd. 
 Then stay, stay, succeeding times agree, 
 To reconcile thy minde, thy meanes, and thee. 
 
 Pilgrime, 
 To stay at home, thou knowst I cannot liue : 
 To liue abroade I know, the worlde maintaines mee : 
 To bee beholden to a Churle, I grieue : 
 And if I want, my dearest friende disdaines mee. 
 And so the forraine face to mee is best, 
 I lacke no meanes, although I lacke my rest. 
 
 Muse. 
 
 I graunt it's true, and more esteem'd abroade, 
 
 But zeale growes colde, and thou forgetst the way : 
 
 Better it were at home to serue thy GOD, 
 
 Than wandring still, to wander quite astray : 
 
 Thou canst not trauaile, keepe thy conscience too, 
 For that is more, than Pilgrimes well can doe. 
 
 Pilgrime. 
 
 I wonder|Muse, thou knowst to heare a Messe, 
 
 I make no breach of Law, but for to learne. 
 
 And if not curious, then the worlde might gesse, 
 
 I hardlie could twixt good and ill discearne : 
 I enter not their Kirkes, as vpon doubt 
 Of faith ; but their strange erroures to finde out, 
 
 Muse. 
 well replyde, but yet a greater spotte. 
 Thou bowst thy knees, before their Altars hie : 
 And when comes the Leuation, there's the blotte : 
 Thou knockst thy breast, and wallowst with thine eye : 
 And when the little Bell, ringes through the streete, 
 Thou prostrate fall'st, their Sacrament to greete.
 
 A CONFLICT, 
 
 Pilgrime. 
 
 Thou fail'st therein, I still fiedde Superstition : 
 
 But I confesse, I got the holie Blessing : 
 
 And vnder colour of a rare Contrition, 
 
 The Papall Panton heele, I fell a kissing. 
 
 But they that mee mistake, are base-borne Clownes : 
 I did it not for Loue, but for the Crownes. 
 
 Muse. 
 
 ! There's Religion, Dissimulation, 
 Vtfunque is thy Stile, I feare no lesse : 
 And from a borrow'd ^Equiuocation, 
 
 Would'st frame thy Will, and then thy Will redresse. 
 No, Pilgrime, no, That's not the VV^ay to Heauen, 
 To make the Euen to glee, the Gleede looke euen. 
 
 Pilgrime. 
 Away vaine Foole : I scorne thy pratling Braine : 
 When I confesse the Trueth, thou mee accuses. 
 
 1 never soldo my Soule for anie Graine, 
 
 Nor yet abus'd my Minde, with Forraine Uses, 
 As manie home-bred lieere Domestickes doe, 
 In changing State, can change their Conscience too. 
 
 3Iuse. 
 
 I grant there's some for Gaine, their Soules doe sell : 
 
 But learne the good, and soone forget the ill : 
 
 A Vale at home ou'r-drawne, I plainlie tell, 
 
 Is fit for thee, though not fit for thy Will. 
 And bee aduis'd. Repentance comes too late. 
 He mournes in vaine, that spends both Time and State. 
 
 Pilgrime. 
 
 I loathe to Hue, long in a priuate place : 
 
 My Soyle I loue, but I am borne to wander. 
 
 And I am glad, when I Extreames imbrace. 
 
 Sweete Sowre Delightes, must my Contentment rander. 
 So, so, I walke, to view Hilles, Townes, and Plaines, 
 Each day new Sightes, new Sightes consume all Paines.
 
 RETVVEENE THE PILGRIME, &c. 
 
 Muse, 
 Liue aye in Paines, ambitious Pilgrime then, 
 Since thy proiide Breast, disdaines thy Mindes snrrandrin"- 
 It's thou who striu'st to ouer-match all men, 
 In Perrill, Paines, in Trauaile, and in VVandrino- 
 Struie still, I feare that some Desasters grow, 
 Long swimme the Fish, so long as Waters flow. 
 
 Pilgrime. 
 Leaue off, and boast no more, no more I sing : 
 I rest resolu'd, holde thou thy peace the while : 
 And to the Earle Montrose, I humblie brino- 
 Our mutuall Conflict, in this barren Stile. 
 And so Illustrious Lord, approue my saying, 
 Conuict my Muse, and let mee goe astraying : 
 To this small Suite, if that your Honour yeeldes, 
 Shee shall perforce with mee affront the Fieldes. 
 
 Heere endeth the Conflict, hetweene 
 the Pilgrime, and his Muse.
 
 To the Right hmiourahle and Noble Lord, 
 
 ALEXANDER, Earle Home, Lord Dunglasse, &c. 
 
 THese meane abortiue lines, of my Lament, 
 On my low-bended knees I sacrifice them 
 To thee, on whome my greatest loue is bent : 
 They gladlie come, and I doe authorize them. 
 And so this simple mite with loue receaue, 
 If thou affect good will, no more I craue. 
 
 To paye the debt I owe of my great duetie. 
 Which in large bondes, lies bound to thy great worth, 
 Is more than I can doe, vnlesse by fewtie, 
 I striue (though weake) thy vertues to set foorth : 
 Yet for my debt, my duetie, and my prayer, 
 I'me bound on earth, and GOD will bee thy payer. 
 
 Thy noble feasting of our gracious King, 
 
 And kindlie wellcome, to the ENGLISH Kinde ; 
 
 ! had I time, the trueth that I might sing. 
 
 Thy great desert, a just reward should finde : 
 But my Farewelles mee poste, yet by the way, 
 Thy Vertue, in thy Worth, triumphes each day. 
 
 Compendious workes, on liigh stupendious thinges. 
 Which brauest wittes, wring from inuentions braine, 
 No knowledge yeeldes, but admiration bringes. 
 To vulgare sortes, and to the wisest pane : 
 
 I sing but plainlie in Domesticke verse, 
 
 The watrie accents, of a pilgrimes herse. 
 
 So (worthy earle) protect my Lamentado, 
 
 And done, I scorne the wretched worlds Brauado. 
 
 Your Lo, most incessant Oratour, 
 William Lithgow.
 
 THE PILGRIMES 
 
 LAMENTADO 
 
 In his second Pilgrimage. 
 
 Ut of the showrie shade of Sorrowes Teares, 
 Where in the darkest Pit of Griefe I lay, 
 I trembhng come, astonisht with these Feares, 
 Of storm ie Fortune, frowning on mee aye : 
 For in her fatall frownes my wracke appeares. 
 And from the concaue of my watrie Plaintea, 
 I powre abroade, a VVorlde of Discontentes. 
 
 Shall I, like Lem'plios^ mourne to lengthen life ? 
 ! I must mourne, or else this Breath dissolues : 
 No greater paine, than mine in-cloystred Strife, 
 Which Sea-waue-like, to tosse mee still resolues. 
 For so the Passions of my Minde are rife : 
 There's none like mee, nor I like vnto none : 
 None but my selfe, in mee my selfe must grone. 
 
 These joyes that I possess'd, are backward fled, 
 My sweete Contentes, to sowre Displeasure turnes ; 
 My quiet Rest, Ambition captiue led. 
 And where I dwell the Pagane there sojournes. 
 My Sommer Smiles, on Winter Blastes are spred. 
 
 All Loue-sicke Dreames, of Worldlie loyes are gone. 
 
 Mine Hopes are fled, and I am left alone. 
 
 D Alone
 
 The P'dgrimes Lamentado, 
 
 Alone I mourne in solitarie Songes, 
 
 And oft bewaile mine infranchized lotte : 
 
 The Heaueus beare witnesse of my long past Wronges, 
 
 Which best can judge, how this blinde Worlde doth dote. 
 
 This pondred so, my bleeding heart it longes, 
 
 To bee dissolu'd, made free, or ty'd more fast, 
 
 Vnto the Substance, of a Shaddow past. 
 
 I wish, and yet I cannot haue my will, 
 It's onlie I, must helplesse spende my Mones : 
 With out-run Teares, mine out-worne Bedde I fill : 
 And Sighes disbende, wliiles I retaine sadde Grones, 
 Which both constrain'd, conuert a sobbing ill. 
 So when my Malecontentes to Sorrow grew. 
 These pale Complaintes, from my wanne Visage flew : 
 
 Ah haplesse I ! vnmatch'd in matchlesse Woe, 
 Plagu'd with the terrour of horrendious strokes, 
 Am Creta7ie-Yike, transported to and froe, 
 Twixt Sandie Scylla, and Cliaribdin Kockes : 
 Ship-wracke I finde, where euer that I goe. 
 
 Though once I scalde, the scope of my desire, 
 
 No sooner vp, but all was set on fire. 
 
 Like Pliciton young, too fast my Sorrowes bred. 
 And bridle gaue, when I should haue holde fast : 
 On the Pegasian winges poore I was led. 
 With course so swift, made all my Pow'rs agast, 
 Till at the last I found that Fawnes mee fed : 
 Then tooke I breath, and saw how I was reft. 
 The poorest man, that in the worlde was left. 
 
 Meane-while I stroue against the strongest Streames, 
 Whilst my small strength, waxt weaker than a Stroe : 
 
 The
 
 In his second Pilgrimage. 
 
 The Sunne dissolu'd in darke declining Beames, 
 And I in Moone-shine colde was tortred so, 
 That all my look'd-for loyes, became but Dreames. 
 Still driuen backe, from my transported Hope, 
 I rang'd the Hill, could neuer reach the toppe. 
 
 Yet once I sat vpon the fatall Wheele, 
 Whiles that the second Round, came round about : 
 Then fell I backward, hanging by the Heele, 
 Astonisht of my Change, I stoode in doubt. 
 If I should mount, then fall, more turninges feele. 
 Which when conceiu'd, I euer swore to mount, 
 Ten thousand falles, should neu'r my Breast confront. 
 
 I cannot fall no lower than the Earth, 
 From which I came, and to the which must goe : 
 This borrowd Breath, is but a glaunce of Mirth, 
 No constant life, this trustlesse Worlde doth show. 
 The surest man, the meanest stile in Birth, 
 
 Great Falles, attende great Persons, and their Glore, 
 For when they fall, they cannot rise no more. 
 
 Care I for Golde ? I scorne that filthy Drosse : 
 It's VVorldlinges God, so Mundanes loue his sight, 
 Shall I despaire ? Or care I for my losse ? 
 Although I want, which once was mine by right, 
 No double on you wanes, still crosse on crosse : 
 I, Cawefe-like, beare all vpon my Backe, 
 And Hue content, and there's the thought I take. 
 
 Yet fragile flesh, is friuolous and proude, 
 
 Some sad disgust, gaue mee this second toyle : 
 
 I sing but low, I may not sing too lowde. 
 
 Who winnes the Fielde, may triumph in the Spoyle. 
 
 D 2 I, van-
 
 The Pilgrimes Lamenkulo, 
 
 1, vanquislit I, must line vnder the Shrowde, 
 Of farre-fled Fortune, scattred to a Ragge : 
 Mine Haire-cloatli Gowne, my Biirdon, and my Bagge. 
 
 All Her'mite-like, my Face ou'r-cled with Haire. 
 Once my faire Fielde, is now turn'd Wildernesse : 
 I harbour'd Beautie, within my full Moone Share, 
 Where nought restes now, but Wrinckles of Distresse. 
 Europiane Sorrow, and AsiaticTce Care : 
 
 The Africke Threatninges, and Arahiane Terrour, 
 Makes my pale Face, become a bloodlesse Mirrour. 
 
 I Pennance make, if Pennance could suffice : 
 
 I forward wrestle, gainst all Forraine Care. 
 
 I still contende, this wandring Breast to please : 
 
 I trauaile aye, and yet I know not where, 
 
 Led with the Whirle-winde, and Furie of Unease. 
 
 And when I haue considered all my strife, 
 
 happie hee, who neuer knew this life I 
 
 A life of sadnesse, still to Hue estranging : 
 A life of griefe, turmoylinges, and displeasure : 
 A life fastidious, aye to run a ranging. 
 A life in bounding, bondlesse Will no measure : 
 A life of tormentes, subject to all changing. 
 A life of paine, where fearfull Danger dwelles, 
 A life, whose passions counter-match the Helles. 
 
 My Sommer Cloathing, is my Winters Weede : 
 Times change, and I, I cannot change Apparrell : 
 The Spring's my loathing, and the Haru'st my neejie r 
 Each Seasons course, by monthlie fittes mee quarrell, 
 And in their Threatninges, threaten to exceede. 
 
 From Weeke to Day, from Day to hourelie minute, 
 Still I opprest, must pay my Passions tribute.
 
 Tn Ms second Pilgrlmaga. 
 
 From tortring toyles, to tortring feares amaine, 
 Poore I, distrest, am tost with great extreames : 
 When I looke backe, to see the VVorlde againe, 
 
 what a clowdie show of echps'd Beamcs 
 
 1 doe beholde ! and seene, I them disdaine. 
 
 Heere mournes the Poore, there foame the rich & great : 
 From Stvane to Prince, I see no quiet state. 
 
 What art thou Worlde ? World, a Worlde of woes, 
 
 A momentarie shaddow of vaine thinges. 
 
 The Acheron of paine, so I suppose, 
 
 A transitorie helper of Hirelinges, 
 
 Which nought but sorrowes to mine eyes disclose : 
 Opinion rules thy state, selfe-loue thy lord, 
 To him who merites least, doth most afford. 
 
 Thou traitour Worlde, art fraught with bitter cares, 
 Pride, Spite, Deceite, Greede, Lust, ambitious Glore : 
 Thy dearest loyes, depende vpon Despaires, 
 And still betrayes them most, most thee implore, 
 Thy bound-slaues wrestle, hurling in thy Snares. 
 Whose course as VVinde, instable is and reaues, 
 In crossing brauest Sprites, aduancing Slaues. 
 
 I smile to see thy Worldling puffc in pride, 
 
 Though meanlie borne, and no desert, if rich, 
 
 Hee lines, as if his mansion could not slide. 
 
 Such proude conceites, deceiue thy sillie Wretch, 
 
 Whiles in his blinde-folde humoures hee would bide. 
 And so they loue, and I abhorre thy sight : 
 They dwell in darknesse, and I Hue in light. 
 
 Thou lead'st thy Captiues, headlong into traines, 
 And in thy trustlesse show, beguiles thy Louer : 
 
 D 3 Who
 
 The Pilgrimes Lamentado, 
 
 Who most affectes thee, greatest are his paines, 
 Thy verded face, contaminates thy proouer, 
 And with false showes, besottes his braiue-sicke braines. 
 So whilst thy mundane Hues, his gaines are losses. 
 And dead, for loue of thee, eternall crosses. 
 
 Thou seem'st without, more brighter than the Golde, 
 Ten thousand vales, of glistring showes decore thee : 
 But hee whose eyes, once saw thine inward mould, 
 Would loathe to Hue, so vainelie to adore thee, 
 Whose counterfeit contentes are bought and solde. 
 A painted Whore, the Maske of deadlie sinne, 
 Sweete faire without, and stinking foule within. 
 
 Who puts trust in thee, whome thou deceiu'st not ? 
 Who loues thy sight, but thou conuerts 't in death ? 
 Who sets his joyes on thee, and him bereaues not ? 
 Who most is thine, findes shortest time to breathe ? 
 Who cleaues most to thy loue, and then him leaues not ? 
 
 Who would thee longest see, what trouble choaks him ? 
 
 Who thee imbrace, Enuie to wrath prouokes him. 
 
 Thy pleasures I compare vnto the flight 
 
 Of a swift Birde, which by a window glides : 
 
 A glaunce, a twinckling, a variable sight, 
 
 As dreames euanish, so thy glorie slides, 
 
 Whose thornie cares, thy joyes downe-sway, with weight : 
 And could thy wi'etch, but learne to know the trueth, 
 Hee would contemne thee, both in Age and Youth. 
 
 1 see the changing course, of thy selfe-gaine, 
 There one buyes, the other buildes, the thirde selles, 
 The fourth hee begges, and the fifth againe, 
 Beginnes to seeke the path, the first fore-telles : 
 
 For
 
 In his second Pilgrimage. 
 
 For in tby fickle force, thy craft showes plaine : 
 Tims restlesse man doth change, and changing so, 
 If rich, findes friendes : if poore, his friend turnes foe. 
 
 To sing of Honour, and Preferment too, 
 I know, thou knowst, what I haue seene abroade : 
 Meane Lads made Lordes, and Lordes to Lads must bow : 
 Such Fauourites on Noble Breastes haue trode. 
 As what Kinges doe, the Heauens the same allow. 
 But heere's the plague ; if dead, ere they bee rotten, 
 Their Stiles, their Names, and Honoures are forgotten. 
 
 The Duke of Vrbine, Count Octauious Lord, 
 Preferd this Youth (though base in birth) for beautie : 
 And was his Bardasse, so the Tuscane word 
 Doth beare : and farre beyonde all Princelie duetie, 
 Aduancing him, his Nobles did discord. 
 
 And when growne great, his friendes began to hate him, 
 And at the last, a Ponyarde did defate him. 
 
 So VVorlde beholde thy late Marshall of France, 
 Whom 3Ions. du Vitres, pistolde through the head : 
 That Queene for priuate thinges did him aduance, 
 But in the ende, his Honoures now lie dead. 
 Who mountes without desert, findes oft such chance. 
 
 hee was great ! now gone, where Hues his Fame ? 
 
 Now, neither Race, nor Stile, nor Eent, nor Name. 
 
 I could recite an hundreth Upstartes moe. 
 Whose meanest Worth, on greatest Glore was set : 
 Meane-while mine eyes, admire their greatnesse so, 
 A suddaine change, these blowne-vp Mineons get. 
 Time doth betray, what Fortune oft lets goe. 
 
 Soone ripe, soone rotte, when free, lines most in thrall : 
 
 A suddaine rising, hath a suddaine fall.
 
 The Filgrimes Lamentado, 
 
 This worthlesse Honour, that desert not reares, 
 
 Is but as fruitlesse showes, which bloome, then perish : 
 
 Where Merite buildes not, that Foundation teares. 
 
 There's nought but Trueth, that can mans standing cherish : 
 
 This great Experience, dayly now appeares ; 
 
 What one vpholdes, another he downe casts, 
 
 This gentle-blood, doth suffer many Blasts. 
 
 I smyle to see, some bragging Gentle-men, 
 That clayme their discent, from King Arthur great ; 
 And they will drinke, and sweare, and roare, what then 
 Would make their betters, f bote-stooles to their feet ; 
 And stryue to be applaus'd with Print and pen : 
 And were hee but a Farmer, if hee can 
 But keepe an Hound, theres a Gentle-man. 
 
 But foolish thou, looke to the Graue, and learne, 
 How man lies there deform'd, consum'd in dust : 
 And in that Mappe, thy judgement may discearne, 
 How little thou in Birth and Blood shouldst trust. 
 Such sightes are good, they doe thy Soule concerne. 
 Wer'st thou a Kinglie Sonne, and Vertue want. 
 Thou art more brute, than Beastes, which Desarts hant. 
 
 And more, vaine Worlde, I see thy great transgression. 
 Each day new Murther, Blood-shed, Craft, and Thift : 
 Thy louelesse Law, and lawlesse proude Oppression : 
 Thy stiflfeneckt Crew, their heads ou'r Saincts they lift. 
 And misregarding GOD, fall in degression. 
 
 The Widdow mournes, the Proude the Poore oppresse 
 
 The Eich contemne, the silly Fatherlesse. 
 
 And rich men gape, and not content, seeke more, 
 By Sea and Land, for gaine, run manie miles : 
 
 The
 
 In his second Pilgrimage. 
 
 The Noblest stiiue for State, ambitious Glore, 
 To haue Preferment, Landes, and greatest Stiles, 
 Yet neu r content of all, when they haue store : 
 And from the Sheepheard, to the King I see. 
 There's no contentment, for a VVorldlie Eye. 
 
 ! is hee poore, then faine hee would bee rich : 
 And rich, what tormentes his great griede doth feele : 
 And is hee gentle, hee striues moe Hightes t' touch : 
 If hee vnthriues, hee hates anothers weele : 
 
 His Eyes pull home, what his Handes dare not fetch, 
 A quiet minde, who can attaine that hight. 
 But either slaine, by Griede, or Enuies spight ? 
 
 Man's naked borne, and naked hee returnes, 
 Yet whiles he Hues, GODS Prouidence mistrustes : 
 Hee gapes for Pelfe, and still in Auarice burnes, 
 And hauing all, hath nothing, but his Lustes. 
 Insatiate still, backe to his Vomite turnes. 
 
 Vilde Dust and Earth, belieu'st thou in a Shadow ? 
 
 Whose high-tun'd Prime, falles like a new mowne Me- 
 
 (dow. 
 
 1 grieue te see the World, and VV^orldling playing. 
 The Wretch puft vp, is swell'd with Hellish griede : 
 The Worlde deceiues him, with a swift assaying. 
 And as hee standes, hee cannot take good heede. 
 But for small Trash, must yeelde eternall paying : 
 
 And dead, another enjoy es what hee got. 
 
 And spendes vp all, whiles hee in Graue doeth rot. 
 
 To see thy Plagues, false Worlde, I breake mine heart : 
 I'me tost, he crost, another lost, and most, 
 
 E .To see
 
 The Pilgrimes Lamentado\ 
 
 To see a wretch for gaine his Soule decart ; 
 
 Men ia thenisehies such blyndnes haiie ingrost ; 
 
 To flee their good, and follow fast their smart : 
 Away vaine world, blest I, disdaines thy sight, 
 Whose sugred snares, breed everlasting night. 
 
 And when I hane scene most part of thy glore, 
 
 Great Kingdomes, Ylandes, statelie Courtes, and Townes, 
 
 Herbagious Fieldes, the PeZa(/e-beating Shore, 
 
 And georgeous showes, of glorious renownes, 
 
 Faire Floods, strong Forts, greene Woods, and Arahe Ore : 
 
 I crie out from my griefe, with watrie eyes, 
 
 All is but vaine, and vaine of vanities. 
 
 So welcome Heauen, with thine etemall loyes, 
 
 Where perfect pleasure is, and aye hath beene : 
 
 This Masse below, is lode with sad annoyes : 
 
 No rest for mee, till I thy glore haue seene. 
 
 So put a period to my toyles and toyes. 
 I loathe to Hue, I long to see my death : 
 I die to Hue, Sweete I E S U S haue my Breath. 
 
 Ah, whither am I carry'd, thus to mourne ? 
 To breake with griefe, the powers of my Breast, 
 There where I ende, to that ende I returne, 
 And still renew the Accentes of vnrest, 
 Whiles in my selfe, mine onelie selfe I burne. 
 
 Whiles frozen colde, whiles fierie hote I grow, 
 
 I come, I flee, I stay, I sinke, I flow. 
 
 No, no, poore heart, my spirit sadlie spoke, 
 Leaue off" these Passions, of extreame conceate : 
 
 And
 
 In his second Pilgrimage. 
 
 And learne to beare with patience thi.s thy Yoke, 
 Which from aboue is sent, not from thy fate : 
 For the Creator, hath the Creature stroke. 
 
 Bee steadfast still, despaire not for aunoyes, 
 
 They are the tryall, of thy future joyes. 
 
 So VVorlde farewell, I haue no more to say, 
 Tort mee, and tosse mee, as thou wilt, I care not : 
 I hope that once, I shall triumph for aye : 
 And so to plague mee heere, VVorlde, then spare not 
 My Night's neare worne, and fast appeares my Day. 
 O loye of chiefest loyes, receiue my Soule, 
 And in thy Bookes of Life, my Name enroule. 
 
 Heere endeth the Pilgdmes Lam&ntado, 
 In his second Pilgriniage, 
 
 wm^^^
 
 To the Right Honourable Ladie, 
 LADIE MARIE, 
 
 Comdesse of Home, <kc. 
 
 Y seruile Muse low prostrate spreads her Rayes, 
 [To i great Dames, HOMES quintessence of fame 
 jThe Noble Merse, admire thy vertuous wayes, 
 ■^' V -- i^^(j gg amaz'd, yeeld homage to the same. 
 
 The Yestall Maides, in honour of a Dame, 
 Are saide to feast 3Iinerva, and great loue. 
 But Thou beyonde great Dames deseru'st a Name : 
 Whose Breast is fraught witth nought but loyall loue. 
 strange ! a Dame should from her Soyle remoue, 
 And though franchizd, a Stranger in some kinde. 
 In this Thy Course, the Heauens thy Worth approue, 
 To show these matchlcsse Fruites, of thy chaste Minde. 
 So, Countesse, so. All HOMES in Thee finde light : 
 Thou doest reuiue the Day, seem'd once their Night. 
 Then blest art Thou, in Thy fine Babes : or rather, 
 More blest Thy Lord, in Thee, and them a Father. 
 
 Your La, most humble seruant, 
 
 William Lithgow.
 
 To the Right Hon oral) le Lord, 
 MY LORD SHEFFIELD, 
 
 President of Yorke, (kc. 
 
 F not ingrate, I must recall thy Worth, 
 Which binds my brest to memorize thy name: 
 And if I could (doubtlesse) I would set foorth 
 Thy great desert, to line in endlesse fame. 
 In passing by at Yorke, cras'd I, halfe lame, 
 Had hap to finde thy noble heart so kinde. 
 Great thankes (Braue Lord) I yeelde thee for the same : 
 First, to thy Glen'rous ; then, judicious Minde. 
 Thy Breast well read in Histories I finde, 
 But more Keligious, in a Godlie course, 
 To Vertue and to Humane workes inclin'd : 
 Thou bound to them, they finde in the secourse. 
 So as thou worthie liu'st, of thy good partes, 
 TMne Honour growes, in conquering of Heartes. 
 Long mayst thou Hue, a Loade starve to the North, 
 That brauest Wittes, may still thy prayse sing foorth. 
 
 Your Lo. euer, &c. 
 
 William Lithgow.
 
 fefaMMMCTMMraMttMiiiMs'Mil^^OT 
 
 The Pilgrimes Farewell to Edinhurgh, 
 
 DEDICATE 
 
 To the Eight VVorshipfull, Sir VV illiam Nisbet of 
 Deane, Knight : Lord Prouost, d:c. And to the rest, The 
 right worthie Bayhes and graue Magistrates of Edinhurgh. 
 
 ^Hen AJhions geme, great Britanes greatest glore 
 
 Did leaue the South, this Articke Soyle to see, 
 ^[Entred thy Gates, whole Miriads him before, 
 •' GHstring in Golde, most glorious to the eye : 
 
 First, Prouost, Bailies, Counsel, Senate graue, 
 Stood plac'd in raks, their King for to receaue. 
 
 In richest Veluet Gownes, they did salute him, 
 Where from his face, appear'd, true Princelie loue : 
 And in the midst of Noble Troupes about him. 
 In name of All, Graue Haye, a Speach did moue. 
 And being horst, the Prouost rode along. 
 With our Apollo, in that splendant Throng. 
 
 What joyfull signes, foorth from thy Bosome sprang, 
 On thy faire Streetes, when shin'd his glorious Beames, 
 Shrill Trumpets sound, Drummes beat, & Bells lowd rang : 
 The people shout, Welcome our Koyall I A M E S : 
 And when drawne neare, vnto thy Freedomes Eight, 
 His Highnesse stayde, and made thy Prouost Knight. 
 
 At last arriu'd at his great Pallace gate, 
 
 There facond Nisbet, enuiron'd with throng, 
 
 Made in behalfe of Citie, Countrey, State, 
 
 A learned Speach in Ornate Latine Tongue : 
 
 And thy strong Maiden-Forte, impregnate Boundes, 
 Gaue out a world of Shottes, strange thundring sounds. 
 
 The Mustring-day drawne on, there came thy Glore, 
 To see thy gallant Youthes, so rich arrayde, 
 
 In
 
 In Pmidedalian Sliowes, did shine like Ore. 
 
 And statelie tlicy their Martiall fittes displayde. 
 
 With Fethers, Skarfs, loud J3rumme8, & Colours fleeing 
 First in the Front, King I A M E S they goe a seeing. 
 
 Their Salutations rent the Aire a sunder. 
 And next to them, the Merchantes went in Order : 
 Whose fire-flying Volleyes, crackt like Thunder: 
 And well conveigh'd, with Seargeantes on each border. 
 So rul'd, so decent, and so arm'd a sight, 
 Gave great contentment, to their greatest Light. 
 
 The vvorthie Trades, in rich approued Kankes, 
 In comelie Show, with them they march'd along : 
 Whose deafning Shottes, resounded clowdie thankes, 
 For our Kinges Welcome, in their greatest Throng. 
 And in that noyse, mee thought, their honour'd Fates, 
 Proclaim'd, That Trades, maintain both Crowns & States. 
 
 And more, sweet Citie, thou didst feast thy Prince, 
 
 Within a Glasen house, with such delightes, 
 
 And rare conceites, that few before, or since, 
 
 Did see it paraleld, in Forraine sightes. 
 
 And those Fire-workes, on his Birth-day at night, 
 Gaue to thy Youthes more prayse, thy selfe more light. 
 
 All these Triumphes, and moe, encrease thy Fame : 
 
 Which briefelie toucht, prolixitie I shunne. 
 
 And for my part. Great Metrapole, thy Name, 
 
 AU-where lie prayse, as twise past I haue done. 
 And now I bidde with teares, with eyes which swell. 
 Thee (Scotlands Seate) deare Edinbvrgh, Farewell. 
 
 Your Wor. neuer failing, dc. 
 
 WILLIAM LITHGOW.
 
 The Pilgrims Farewell to Northherwicke 
 Lawe. Dedicate to Sir I H N HOME of Northber- 
 wicke, Knight, (&c. 
 
 THou steepie Hill, so circling piramiz'd, 
 That for a Prospect, serues East Louthiane Landes : 
 Where Ouile Flockes doe feede halfe enamiz'd : 
 And for a Trophee, to Nortltberwicke standes. 
 So mongst the Marine Hilles growes diaderaiz'd, 
 Which curling Plaines, and pastring Vales commaundes : 
 Out from thy Poleme Eye, some sadnesse borrow, 
 And decke thy Listes, with Streames of sliding sorrow. 
 
 And from thy cloudie toppe, some mistes dissolue, 
 To thicke the Planure, with a foggie Dew : 
 And on the Manure, moystie droppes reuolue, 
 To change colde Hyeme, in a Cerene Hew. 
 And let the Ecclioes, of thy Rockes resolue, 
 To mourne for mee, in gracing them was true. 
 
 So Mount, powre out, thy showrie pale complaintes. 
 For mee, and my Fare- well, my Malecontentes. 
 
 And now round Hight, whiles Phoehus warmes thy bounds, 
 
 Some glad reflexe, disbende downe to thy Knight : ■ 
 
 And shew him, how thy Lone to him aboundes. 
 
 Since hee is Patrone, of thy Stile by right. 
 
 For from his Worth, a double Fame redoundes, 
 
 To rayse his Vertue, farre aboue thine hight, 
 
 Yet bow thine Head, and greet him as hee goes, 
 
 Since hee, and his, deserue to weare thy Rose. 
 
 And I, I wish, his Name, and Race, may stand, 
 
 So long as thou art scene, by Sea, or Land. 
 
 Your Wor. dec. 
 William Lithgow.
 
 -^^<si$^-^5^<#^ -^^><?a^^ -s^XSN- ^^<s»^ 
 
 A SONNET, 
 
 Made by the Aut/ior, being vpon Mount iEtna, in Sicilia, 
 AN. 1615. And on the second day thereafter arriuing at Mes- 
 sina, he found two of his Countrey Gentlemen, Dauid Seton, of the 
 House of Perbroith, and Matthew Dowglas, now presentlie at 
 
 Court: to wliome hee presented the aume^ they heeing at thai inslciut time 
 some 40. miles from tJienoe. 
 
 High staiides thy topije, but higher lookes mine eye, 
 High scares thy smoake, but higher my desire : 
 High are thy roundes, steepe, circled, as I see. 
 But higher farre this breast, whiles I aspire : 
 High raountes the furie, of thy burning fire. 
 But higher farre mine aymes transcende aboue : 
 High bendes thy force, through midst of Vulcanes ire. 
 But higher flies my sprite, with winges of loue : 
 High preasse thy flames, the chrystall aire to moue, 
 But higher farre, the scx)pe of mine engine : 
 High lies the snow, on thy proude toppes, I proue. 
 But higher vp ascendes my braue designe. 
 
 Thine height cannot surpasse this clowdie frame, 
 But my poore Soule, the highest Heauens doth claime. 
 Meane- while with paine, I climbe to view thy toppes. 
 Thine hight makes fall from me, ten thousand droppes. 
 
 Yours affectionate, WilUam Lithgow. 
 
 The Pilgrimes Passionado, on the Rhyne, ivhen he loas robbed 
 hy fine Souldiours, French & Valloune, aboue Rhynberg, in Cleue, 
 being assosiatedhy a young Gentleman, Dauid Bruce o/Clakmanene 
 house, ANNO 1614". Octob. 28. And afterwarde dedicate to the 
 most mightie Dutchesse, ELIZABETH, Princesse Palatine, of the 
 Rhyne, &c. 
 
 Glue life, sad Muse, vnto my watrie Woes, 
 And let my windie sighes, ou'r-match despaire : 
 Striue in my sorrow sadlie to disclose 
 
 F My
 
 The Pilgrimes Passionado, 
 
 My Tormentes, Troubles, Crosses, Griefe, and Care 
 Paint mee out so, my Pourtraicture to bee, 
 The matchlesse Mappe, of vnmatcht Miserie. 
 
 Euen as a Birde, caught in an vnseene Snare, 
 So was I fangd in lawlesse Souldiours handes : 
 My Cloathes, my Money, and my Goods they share, 
 Before mine eyes, whiles helplesse I still standes. 
 I once Possessour, now Spectatour turnes, 
 To see mee from my selfe, mine heart it burnes. 
 
 Nowe must I begge, or steale, else starue, and die, 
 For lacke of Foode : so am I Harbourlesse : 
 Sighes are my Speach, and Grones my Silence bee : 
 Bare-foote I am, and bare-legd, in distresse. 
 
 My lookes craue helpe, mine eyes pierce euerie doore : 
 I stretch mine handes, my voyce cries, Helpe the Poore. 
 
 Howe woefuU-like I hing my mourning Face, 
 And downewarde looke vpon the sable ground : 
 Mine outwarde show, from Stones might beg some grace, 
 Though neither life, nor loue, on earth were found. 
 Nowe, hungrie, naked-, colde, and wette with Raine, 
 Poore I, am crost, with Pouertie quite slaine. 
 
 Can Pouertie, that of it selfe's so light. 
 As beeing weigh'd, in Ballance with the VVinde, 
 Doth hang aloft, yet seeme so hudge a weight : 
 To sit so sadde vpon a soaring Minde : 
 
 No, no, poore Breast, it is thine owne base thought, 
 That holdes the downe, for Pouertie is nought. 
 
 Or
 
 Oil the Rhyne. 
 
 Or can the restlesse Wheele of Fortunes pride, 
 Turne vp-side downe ? mine euer-changing state. 
 Ah yea, for I, on Regno once did ride. 
 Though nowe throwne downe, to desolate debate. 
 
 Thus am I chang'd, and this the Worlde shall finde, 
 Fortune, that Foole, is false, deafe, dumbe, and bliude. 
 
 Shall swift- wing'd Time, thus triumph in my Wrouges ? 
 
 Whiles I am left, a Mirrour of Despaire ? 
 
 Shall I vnfolde my plaintes, and heauie songes, 
 
 To grieue the Worlde, and to molest the aire ? 
 I, I, I mourne, but for to ease my griefe, 
 Soone gettes hee helpe, at last who findes reliefe. 
 
 Once robd, and robd againe, and wounded too, 
 
 O what aduentures, ouer-sweigh my fate ? 
 
 Pilgrime, thou mourn'st, mourne not, let worldlinges doe, 
 
 Thinges past, recalde, they euer come too late : 
 
 I wish, I had, is daylie full of woe : 
 And had I wist, I would, is so, and so. 
 
 Well then, on lower Vales, the Shades doe lie. 
 And mistes doe lurke, on euerie watrie plaine. 
 The toppes of Mountaines, are both cleare and drie, 
 And nearest to all Sunne-shine joyes remaine. 
 Mount then, braue Minde, to that admired hight, 
 Where neither mist, nor shade, can hurt thy sight. 
 So I'le defie Time, Fortune, Mars^ and Bhyne, 
 Who all at once, conspu'd my last ruine.
 
 In his second Trauels, after Ms departure 
 from E N Gr L A N D, arriuing at Ostend : the sight 
 lohereof gaue the Pilgrime this Subject. 
 
 TO view the mines, of thy wasted VValleS; 
 Loe, I am come, bewaihng thy disgrace : 
 Art thou this Bourge, Bellona so installes ? 
 To bee a Mirrour, for a Martiall face : 
 
 I sure it's thou, whose bloodie bathing boundes, 
 
 G-aue death to thousandes, and to thousandes woundes. 
 
 What Hostile force, besieg'd thee, poore Ostend ? 
 
 With all engine, that euer Warre deuis'd. 
 
 What Martiall Troupes, did valiantlie defende, 
 
 Thine Earthen Strengthes, and ISconses vnsurpris'd : 
 By cruell assaultes, and desperate defence, 
 Thine vndeseruing name, wonne honour thence. 
 
 Some deepe interr'd, within thy bosome lie : 
 Some rotte, some rent, some torne in pieces small, 
 Some Warre-like maim'd, some lame, some halting crie, 
 Some blowne through clouds, some brought to deadly thrall 
 Whose dire defectes, renew'd with Ghostlie mones, 
 May match the Thehane, or the Trojane grones. 
 
 Base Fisher Towne, that fang'd thy Nettes before, 
 And drencht into the Deepes, thy Foode to winne : 
 Art thou become a Tragicke Stage ? and more, 
 Wlience brauest Wittes, braue Stories may beginne : 
 To show the World, more than the World would craue, 
 How all thine in-trencht ground, became one Graue. 
 
 Thy digged Ditches, turn'd a Gulfe of Blood, 
 
 Thy Walles defeate, were rearde, with fatall bones : 
 
 Thine Houses equall, with the Streetes they stoode :
 
 Thy Liniites come, a Sepulchre of Grones. 
 
 Whence Canons roar'd, from fierie cracking smoake, 
 Twixt two Extreames, thy Desolation broke. 
 
 Tlioii God of Warre, whose thundring soundes doe feare, 
 This circled space, plac'd heere below the roundes : 
 Thou, in obliuion, hast sepulchriz'd heere, 
 Earthes dearest life : for now what else redoundes, 
 
 But Sighes, and Sobbes, when Treason, Sword and Fire, 
 Haue tlu'owne all downe, when all thought to aspire ? 
 
 Foorth from thy Marches, and Frontiers about, 
 In sanguine hew, thou dy'd the fragrant Fieldes. 
 The camped Trenches of thy Foes Avithout, 
 Were turn'd to blood : for valour neuer yeeldes. 
 So bred Ambition, Honour, Courage, Hate, 
 Long three yeeres Siedge, to ouer-throw thy State. 
 
 At last from threatning terrour of despaire, 
 Thine hemb'de Defeudantes, with diuided Walles, 
 Were forc'd to render : Then came mourning care 
 Of mutuall Foes, for Friendes vntimelie falles : 
 
 Thus lost, and gotte, by wrong and lawlesse Eight, 
 My judgment thinkes thee, scarcelie worth the sight. 
 But there's the question, When my Muse hath done, 
 Whether the Victor, or the Vanquisht wonne ? 
 
 To the Worshipfull Gentleman, 
 THOMAS EDMOND: 
 
 Now resident in the LOWE COVNTBEYES. 
 
 YOuth, thou mayst see (though brief) my gi-eat goodwill : 
 It's not for flattrie, nor rewarde, I prayse : 
 Wee are farre distant, yet my flying Quill, 
 Perhaps may come, within thine home-bred wayes. 
 
 F 3 I striue
 
 I striue from Dust, thy Fathers Fame to raise, 
 For Scotlandes sake, and for his Martiall Skill, 
 Whose fearelesse Courage, following Warlike Frayes, 
 Did there surpasse, the worthiest of his dayes. 
 And as his matchlesse Valour, Honour wonne, 
 His death resign'd, the same, to thee his Sonne. 
 
 Yours, to his vttermost, 
 William Lithgow. 
 
 77^g Complaint of the late LORD, 
 CORONALL EDMOND his Ghoste. 
 
 OUT of the loyes, of sweete Eternall Rest, 
 I must compeare, as forc'd for to remoue, 
 Here to complaine, how I am dispossest, 
 Of Christian Battelles, Captaines, Souldiers loue. 
 
 Oft with the Pensile, of a bloodie Pen, 
 I wrote my val'rous fortunate assayes ; 
 Though I be gone, my worth is prais'd of men ; 
 The Netherlandes admyrd my warlike dayes. 
 
 And Counte du Buckoye, twyse my captiue was, 
 In crueU fight, at Emricke I him tooke ; 
 (The stoutest Earle the Spanish armie has) 
 Who till my death, his armes hee quyte forsooke. 
 
 At New-port fight, that same day, ah, I lost. 
 The worthiest Scots, that life the world affords ; 
 Men, a Regiment, like Gyantes seemde to boast, 
 A worlde of Spaniardes, and their bloodie Swordes. 
 
 And 1 escap'd so neare, was twise vnhorst : 
 Yea, manie other bloodie Fieldes I stroke. 
 
 My
 
 My Foes strange plottes, was neu'r so strong secourst, 
 But cft-soones I, tlKiir Force, and Tcrrour broke. 
 
 Scotland I thanke, for mine vndaunted Breath, 
 Shee brought mco foorth, for to vnsheath my Sworde : 
 The STATES they found mec true vnto my death, 
 And neucr shrunke from them in deede or worde. 
 
 At Rhynsherg Sconce, I gottee my fatall blow, 
 A faint-heart French-man baseUe was refute : 
 And 1 went on, the Pultrone for to show, 
 Where in a Demi-Lune that hee should shoote. 
 
 But ah ! a Musket, twinde mee and my life, 
 Which made my Foe, euen Spineola, to grieue, 
 Although my death, did ende, his doubtfull strife, 
 His worthie Breast, oft wisht, that I might Hue. 
 
 Thus STATES farewell. Count MAURICE, souldiers 
 The most aduentrous, nearest to his fall : (all, 
 
 This Pilgrime passing by, where I was slaine, 
 In sorrow of his heart, raisde mee againe. 
 
 The author in his second Trauels beeing at 
 
 PRAGE, in BOHEMIA, did sute the Emperour for 
 some affaires, luhich hemg granted, a young vp-start Courtier 
 ouer- threw him therein, giuing him this Subiect to expresse, 
 
 after long attendance at Court, ^x. 
 
 THou carelesse Court, commixt with colours strange, 
 Carefull to catch, but carelesse to reward ; 
 Thy care doth carrie, a sad Cymerian change, 
 To starue the best, and still the worst regard : 
 For in thy greatnesse, greatly am I snar'd. 
 Ah wretched I, on thy vnhappie shelfe, 
 Grounded my hopes, and cast away my selfe.
 
 On the Court of Bohemia. 
 
 From stormes to calme, from calme to stormes amaine, 
 Poore I am tost, in dyuing boundlesse deepes ; 
 There where I perish'd Loiies to fall againe, 
 And that which hath me lost, my losse still keepes, 
 In dark oblivion, my designes now sleepes : 
 Cancelling thus, the aymes of my aspyring, 
 Still crosse, on crosse, haue crost my just desiring. 
 
 Had thy vnhappie smyles, shi'unke to betray me, 
 Worthie had beene, the worth of my deseruing ; 
 Blush if thou canst, for shame can not afPray thee, 
 Since fame declines, and bountie is in swerving. 
 And leaues thee clog'd in pryde, for purenesse staruing : 
 Ah court, thou mappe, of all dissimulation, 
 Turnes Faith to flattrie, Loue to emulation. 
 
 Happie liu'd I, whilst I sought nothing more, 
 But what my trauailes, by great paines obtained ; 
 Now being Ship-wrackt, on thy marble shore. 
 By Tauernes wrackt, goods spent, gifts farre restrained. 
 Am forc'd to flee, by miserie constrained : 
 Whose ruthles frowns, my modest thoughts haue scatterd 
 The swelling sailes of hope, in pieces shatterd. 
 
 Some by the rise of small desert so hie, 
 That on their height, the VVorlde is forc'd to gaze : 
 Their Fortunes, riper than their yeeres to bee. 
 May fill the YVorlde with wonder, wonders rayse. 
 As though there were none ende to smoake their prayse. 
 Well Court, aduance, thy mineons neu'r so much. 
 Doe what thou canst, lie neuer honom- such. 
 
 lustlie I know my sad lamenting Muse, 
 
 May claime reuenge of thine inconstant state : 
 
 Thou
 
 On tlie Court of Bohemia. 
 
 Thou fedst nice with Ikire showes, then didst abuse, 
 All, I expect'd, sprung from an heart ingrate. 
 Whom fortune once hath raisdc, may turne his fate. 
 In Court whose pride, ambition makes him All, 
 In ende shall pride, ambition, breede his fall, 
 
 When swift-wing'd Time, discloser of all thinges. 
 Shall trie the future euents of mens rising, 
 What admiration to the Worlde it bringes, 
 To see who made their State, their State surprising, 
 Whome they with Flattrie stoode, and false entising. 
 And when they fell, mee thinke I heare these Songes, 
 The world proclaims. There's them that nurst my wrongs. 
 
 Thou must not thinke, thy fame shall alwayes flourish, 
 Whose Birth once meane, made great by Princelie fauour : 
 Flowres in their prime, the season sweetlie nourish, 
 Then in disgrace, they wither, loose their sauour : 
 So all haue course, whome fortune so will honour. 
 Looke to thy selfe, and know within, without thee : 
 Thou rose with flattrie, flattrie dwelles about thee. 
 
 Thou cunning Court, cledde in a curious cace, 
 Seemst to bee that, which thou art not indeed : 
 Thou maskst thy wordes, with eloquence, no grace, 
 Hatcht in the craft of thy dissembling head. 
 And poore Attendantes, with vaine showes doest feede. 
 Thou promist faire, performing nought at all : 
 Thy Smiles, are Wrath ; thine Honey, bitter Gall. 
 
 Curst bee the man, that trustes in thine assuring, 
 For then himselfe, himselfe shall vndermine : 
 Griefes are soone gotte, but painefull in induriiig, 
 Hopes vuobtaind, make but the hoper pine : 
 
 G Hopes
 
 On the Court of Bohemia, 
 
 Hopes are like beames, which through dark clouds do shine. 
 Which moue the eyes to looke, the thoughts to swell, 
 Bring sudden loye, then turnes that loye, an Hell. 
 
 Thrise happie hee, who lines a quiet life, 
 Hee needes not care, thine Enuie, Pride, nor Treason : 
 His wayes are plaine, his actions voyde of strife, 
 Sweetelie hee toyles, though painefull in the season, 
 And makes his Conscience, both his Law and Reason. 
 Hee sleepes securelie, needes not feare no danger, 
 ISupportes the Poore, and intertaines the Stranger. 
 
 And who Hues more content, than Sheepheardes doe ? 
 Whome haughtie heads account but Countrey Swanes : 
 Leaue off, they mount you farre, and scorne you too, 
 And Hue more sweetelie, on Valleyes, Hilles, and Piaines, 
 Than yee, proude Fooles, for all your puft-vp braines : 
 Whose heartes contend, to flatter, swell, and gaine. 
 Ambition choakes your Breasts, Hell breeds your paine. 
 
 What art thou COUET ? If I can censure duelie, 
 A masked Playe, where nought appeares but glancing : 
 And in an homelier sense, to sing more truelie, 
 A stage, where Fooles, are daylie in aduancing : 
 I'le sing no more, for feare of sudden lancing. 
 For if a Germane gape, then I am gone, 
 Hee drinkes mee at a draught, it's ten to one. 
 
 Farewell thou BOHEME Court, thy smallest Traiue : 
 Farewell the meanenesse, of thine highest Stile : 
 Farewell the Fruites, of my long lookt-for Gaine : 
 Farewell the Time, that did mine Hopes beguile : 
 And happie I, if I saw BKITANES lie. 
 
 And whilst I see, my Natiue Soyle, I sweare, 
 
 I thinke each Houre, a Daye ; each Daye, a Yeere.
 
 il)^'^^l>^^^'4w* §i¥'is^?i$r^J^ ^ 
 
 To his vnknoivne, Jcnoivne ; and knoivne, vnhnoivne Loue, 
 These now knoiune Lines, an vnJcnowne Breast sJiall move, 
 
 SElfe-flattring I, deceiuer of my selfe, 
 Opinions Slaue, nil'd by a base Conceate : 
 VVhome eii'rie windc, naufragiates on the shelfe, 
 Of Apprehension, jealous of my State, 
 
 Who guides mee most, that guide I most misknow, 
 Suspcctes the Shaddow, for a sabstant Show. 
 
 I still receiue, the thing I vomite out, 
 
 Conceiues againe imaginarie wracke : 
 
 I stable stand, and yet I stand in doubt, 
 
 Giues place to one, when two repulles mee backe. 
 I kindle Fire, and that same Fire I quench, 
 And swim the deepes, but dare not downwarde drench, 
 
 I grieue at this, prolong'd in my desire, 
 
 And I rejoyce, that my delay is such : 
 
 I trie, and knowes, my tryall may aspire, 
 
 But flees the place, that should this time auouh. 
 In stinging smartes, my sweete conuertes in sowre, 
 I builde the Hiue, but dare not sucke the Flowre. 
 
 Well Honney Combe, since I am so faint hearted. 
 That I flee backe, when thou vnmaskst thy face : 
 Thou shalt bee gone, and I must bee decarted. 
 Such doubtfull stayes enhaunce, when wee embrace. 
 
 Farewell, wee two, diuided are for euer, 
 
 Yet vndiuided, whilst our Soules disseuer. 
 
 Thine, as I am mine, 
 
 WILLIAM LITHGOW.
 
 iniffllliniMniniET VuWW 71 ['i! '' ' I! tiBl ! 1 i I ! a I '1 1'itl ' ! [T]i&. i I T lid I Pll ' -jj' fi'^ ' 1 1 'Mi \ \ ^ in M fl I ! ' IMI'I [' 1 i .'A FF FT iSTI ' I ITiSirti 1 ' iMl 1 1 nWTI 11 llWl I inT MUl 1 1 ' .Ul' 1 1 1 ' 1 '.ai ' I HTI Bn I 
 niyiliililnTlillw*n^ t n'wiillrrtiwir lltjyiiinT^yri'tTiWTiiiigiriTTm^ * OftirtrrtmtmfiMyttTtmWrtTt tttmtttt^^ 
 
 A SONNET, 
 
 Made by the Pilgrime, when liee was almost ship-w7-acked, 
 hetivixt the lies Arrane and Kossay, anno 1617. Sehtemh. 9. 
 
 WHat foaming Seas, in restlesse hateful! rage, 
 Striue to s'armatch, the neuer-matched Skies ? 
 Can bounded Reason, boundlesse Will not swadge ? 
 Nor spitefull Neptune^ pittie my poore cries ? 
 Now downe to Hell, now vp to Heauen I rise, 
 Twixt two Extreames, extreamly make debate, 
 Heauens thundring winds, my halfe harm'd heart denyes 
 All hop'd-for helpe, to my hurt haplesse state, 
 I am content. Let fortune rule my fate, 
 Tymes alt'ring turnes, may change in joye my griefe, 
 Roare foorth yee Stormes, rebell, and bee ingrate, 
 I scorne to begge, from Borean Wastes, reliefie. 
 
 Long-winged Boate, quicke-shake thy trembling oares. 
 And correspond these waues, with demi-roares. 
 
 The Pilgrvme Entring into the Mouth of 
 CLYDE, from ROSSAY, to view DUNBARTANE 
 Castle, and LOCH L0W3I0ND, anno 1617. Sehtemh. IS, 
 Hee saluted his natiue Riuer loith these Verses. 
 
 HOw sweetelie slide the Streames of silent Clyde, 
 And smoothlie runne, betweene two bordring Banks : 
 RedoubHng oft his Course, seemes to abyde. 
 To greete my Trauelles, with tenne thousand thankes, 
 That 1, whose eyes, had view'd so manie Floodes, 
 Deign'd to suruey, his deepes, and neighb'ring woods. 
 
 Thrise famous Clyde, I thanke thee for thy greeting, 
 Oft haue thy Brethren, easde mee of my paine : 
 Two contrarie extreames, wee haue in meeting, 
 
 I vp-
 
 His Fareivell to Clyde. 
 
 I vpward climbe, and thou fldl'st downe amaine. 
 I search thy Spring, and thou the Westerne Sea : 
 So farewell Flood, yet stay, and mourne with race. 
 
 Goe steale along with speede, the Hyheriie shore, 
 And meete the Thames, vpon the Albion coast : 
 loyne your two Armes, then sighing both, deplore 
 The Fortunes, which in Britane I haue lost. 
 And let the Water-Nymphes, and Nejitune too, 
 Refraine their mirth, and mourne, as Riuers doe. 
 
 To thee great Clyde, if I disclose my wronges, 
 
 I feare to loade thee, with excesse of griefe : 
 
 Then may the Ocean, bereaue thee of my Songes, 
 
 And swallow vp thy Plaintes, and my reliefe. 
 Tell onelie Isis, So, and so, and so : 
 Conceale the trueth, but thunder foorth my woe. 
 
 My Bloode, sweete Clyde, claimes intrest in thy worth, 
 Thou in my Birth, I in thy vaprous Beames : 
 Thy breadth surmountes, the Tiveede, the Tay, the Forth, 
 In pleasures thou excell'st, in glistring Streames : 
 
 Seeke Scotland for a Fort, then Dunhertaine ! 
 
 That for a Trophee standes, at thy Mouth certaine. 
 
 Ten miles more vp, thy well-built Glasgoio standes, 
 
 Our second Metrapole, of Spirituall Glore : 
 
 A Citie deckt with people, fertile Landes : 
 
 Where our great King, gotte Welcome, welcomes store : 
 Whose Cathedrall, and Steeple, threat the Skies, 
 And nine archt Bridge, out ou'r thy bosome lies. 
 
 And higher vp, there dwelles thy greatest wonder, 
 Thy chiefest Patrone, glorie of thy Boundes : 
 
 G 3 A Noble
 
 His Fareivell to Clyde. 
 
 A Noble Marques, whose great Vertues thunder, 
 An Eequiuox backe to thy Pleasant Soundes. 
 
 Whose Greatnesse may command thine head to foote, 
 From Aricke stone, vnto the He of Boote. 
 
 As thou alongst his Palace slides, in haste, 
 Stay, and salute, his Marquesadiane Dame : 
 That matchlesse Matrone, Mirrour of the West, 
 Deignes to protect, the Honour of thy Name. 
 So euer famous Flood, yeelde them their duetie, 
 They are the onelie, Lampes, of thy great Beautie. 
 
 And now, faire-bounded Streame, I yet ascende. 
 To our olde LANERKE, situate on thy Bankes : 
 And for my sake, let Gorliouse Lin disbende, 
 Some thundring noyse, to greete that Towne with thanks, 
 There was I borne : Then Clyde, for this my loue. 
 As thou runnes by, her auncient Worth approue. 
 
 And higher vp, to climbe to Tinto Hill, 
 (The greatest Mountaine, that thy Boundes can see:) 
 There stand to circuite, and striue t' runne thy fill, 
 And smile vpon that Barron dwelles by thee. 
 
 Carmichell thy great Friende, whose famous Sire, 
 In dying, left not, Scotland, such a squire. 
 
 In doing these Requestes, I shall commende thee, 
 To fertile Nyle, and to the sandie lore, 
 And I recorde. The Danube, latelie sende thee. 
 A thousand Greetinges, from his statelie Shore. 
 
 Thus, for thy paines, I shall augment thy Glorie, 
 
 And write thy Name, in Times Eternall Storie. 
 
 So, euer-pleasant Flood, thy losse I feele. 
 
 In breathing foorth tliis worde, Deare Clyde, Fareweele.
 
 o 5f ^ ^^: * of§X^ o^^^ ^im* 
 ■o ^Uo o^'-J**-- ^^>io o^U^ <^M c 
 
 The Heremites Welcome, 
 To the Pilgrimes thirde Pilgmnage, 
 
 NOW long-worne Pilgrime, in this Vale of Teares, 
 Tlirise welcome, to thy thrise austiere Assayes : 
 In thee, my second selfe, it well appeares. 
 For in thy Mappe, I see my pensiiie Wayes. 
 I Hue alone, vpon this desart Mount, 
 And thou comst foorth alone, as thou wast wont. 
 
 Mee thinkes thou seem'st a solitarie man. 
 
 That, for some sorrowe, hadst forsooke thy Soyle : 
 
 Or else, some long-made Vowe, which makes thee than 
 
 To vnder-take this miserie of Toyle. 
 
 Faine would I aske, the cause, why thou dost wander ? 
 
 But thy sadde showe, doth seeme, no count to rander. 
 
 Yet in thine heauie Face, I see thy paine, 
 Thine hollow Eyes, deepe sunken in thine Head : 
 Whose pale clapt Cheekes, and wrinckled Browes againe, 
 Show mee what griefe, disasters, in the breede. 
 
 Thy sight, poore wretch, telles me thou hast no pleasure, 
 In Rest, in Toyle, in Life, nor worldlie treasure. 
 
 So happie thou, sit downe heere by my side. 
 And rest thy selfe, thy paine is wondrous sore : 
 For I, I still, in this one place do bide, 
 But thou all-- where, thy Pennance dost explore. 
 
 Thou neuer supst, nor dynst, into one parte. 
 
 Nor ly'st two nightes, vnchanging of thine airte. 
 
 Thy life is harde, I must confesse, deare Brother, 
 For where I Hue, my Friendes dwell heere about mee 
 
 But
 
 The Heremites Welcome, 
 
 But in thy chaunge, thou seest now one, now other, 
 And all are Strangers, that each clay may doubt thee. 
 I judge the cause of this, good GOD reliue thee : 
 To see a Soule so vext, it quite doth grieue mee. 
 
 My solitarie life, is harde indeede, 
 
 And I chastize my selfe with hungrie Fare : 
 
 On Hearbes, raw Rootes, on Snailes, and Frogges I feede : 
 
 And what GOD giues mee, freelie I it share. 
 
 Three dayes in eight, I fast, for my Soules better. 
 
 And in this time, I feede on Bread and Water. 
 
 All this is nought to thine, with mine I rest : 
 For thou must toyle, and fast against thy will. 
 If it fall late, then thou must runne in haste, 
 To seeke thy Lodging, fortunate, but Skill. 
 
 I haue the shelter of this Her'mitage, 
 
 But vniuersall is thy Pilgrimage, 
 
 Alace, deare Sonne ! I mourne to see thy life. 
 Though in the passions of thy paines thou joyes : 
 Wouldst thou turne Hermite, thou mightst end thy strife, 
 My Fare is rude, but Prayer mee imployes. 
 
 Rest, rest, and rest, the Heauens as soone they wonne, 
 That rest with mee, as they ail-where that runne. 
 
 Yet I confesse, thy Pennance doth exceede, 
 My merite farre, wonne by thes^austiere meanes : 
 For thou with Turkes, and Paganes, eat'st thy Bread, 
 Hast feare of death, when thou none other weanes. 
 
 They plague thy Purse, and Hunger plagues thy Bellie, 
 Whiles in this Cottage, I contentment swellie. 
 
 I see no stormie Seas, where Pirates line : 
 No Murthrer dare encroach vpon my State :
 
 I feare no Thiefe, nor at wilde Beastes doe grieue : 
 I neede not buy, nor spende, nor Icnde, nor frate. 
 All these, and manie moe, attende thy wayes : 
 Ah, poore slaine Filgrime, so the Ilermite sayes. 
 
 Thou seemst to bee, of some farre Northerne Nation, 
 And I doe maruell, that thou walkst alone : 
 Good Companie, should bee thy chiefe Solation, 
 For thou hast Plaines. and Hilles, to wander on : 
 
 Long Woods, and Desartes, eu rie where must finde : 
 Hadst thou a second, thou hadst a quiet minde. 
 
 But wandring Sonne, these thinges no more I touch, 
 
 I must refresh thee, with some Hermites cheare : 
 
 For I, poore I, can heere aiforde but such. 
 
 As Hearbes, raw Rootes, browne Bread, and Water cleare. 
 Yet, if thou wilt conceale this gift of mine, 
 I haue good Flesh, good Fish, good Bread, good Wine. 
 
 Although to common Pilgrimes I not show it, 
 
 Yet for lerusalem, which thou hast seene. 
 
 Thou shalt haue part, although the World should know it. 
 
 Thou art as holie, as euer I haue beene. 
 
 So welcome, Sonne, welcome to mee, I sweare : 
 
 Thou shalt finde more with mee, than Tauerne cheare. 
 
 Heere on this greene growne Hill, I spreade my Table, 
 Well couerd ou'r, with Leaues of diuerse sortes : 
 V V^ho say that Hermites fast, is but a fable. 
 Wee haue the best, the Peasantes haue the Ortes. 
 
 And Pilgrime holde thy peace, wee shall bee merrie. 
 
 For heere's good Wine, which tastes of "the true Berrie. 
 
 Fill, and content, thy long desires apace, 
 
 And bee not shamefast, Pilgrimes must bee forthie : 
 
 Wee Hermites seldome vse to say a Grace : 
 
 To pray too much at Meate, that's vnworthie. 
 And what thou leau st, thy Budget shall possesse, 
 I cannot want, when thou mayst finde distresse. 
 
 H And
 
 The Heremites Welcome, 
 
 And there a Carrouse, of the sweetest Wyne, 
 That growes twixt Fiemont, and Calldbrian shore ; 
 Hast thou enough ? nowe tell me, all is thine, 
 When this is done, I'le finde another Bore : 
 
 And giue me out thy Callahast to fill, 
 
 That thou mayst drinke, when thou discends this hill. 
 
 Thus pensiue Pilgrime, thy humble Ilermite greetes thee, 
 And yet me thinkes, thou lookes not like a Frater, 
 If thou be Catholike, my Soule shee treats thee. 
 For this good worke of mine, to say a Pater : 
 
 Thou seemes to smyle, and will not fall a Prayer, 
 
 I lay my life, thou art a meere betrayer. 
 
 Pilgrimagious sonne, now faith, I knowe thee, 
 At 3Iount Serata, nyne yeares past and more ; 
 
 1 askd at thee. What wast thou ? Who did owe thee ? 
 And thou reply'd, A stranger seeking Ore. 
 
 I answer'd. Hermits, neuer keepe no Golde, 
 Pilgrime now, on faith, now you are solde. 
 
 How dar'st thou man, within our bounds repare ? 
 An Hereticke, would make a Christian show : 
 Hast thou no conscience, for thy Soule to care ? 
 There is but one way, to the Heauens wee know. 
 
 And wilt thou liue a Schismatike or Atheist ? 
 
 No rather Pilgrime, turne with mee a Papist. 
 
 Our ghostly father, Christes Yicare on earth, 
 Is highly with thy old done deeds displeased : 
 And I doe knowe, for all thy showe of mirth, 
 If thou be found, these trickes can not be meased : 
 A suddaine blast, will blow thee in the aire. 
 Therefore when free, to saue thy life beware. 
 
 And yet it seemes, thou car'st not what T speake, 
 But thinkes me damn'd, for all my poore profession ; 
 I stand in doubt my selfe, the trueth I seeke,
 
 To his third Pilgrimage. 
 
 And of my life, there is my true confession ; 
 When I was young, hixmious vice I loud, 
 Libidinous, abhominablcly mou'd. 
 
 I know, thou knowst, what Priests doe, with young boyes. 
 It is a common sinne, in young and old ; 
 
 strange, gainst Nature, man his lust employes ! 
 They seeme as Saincts, and Hell-hounds are enrold : 
 
 Their filthie deeds, make my poore conscience trem1)l€, 
 And with Keligion, gainst my heart dissemble. 
 
 1 will be plaine, I am thy Oountrey man, 
 And father Thomson is my Christiane name ; 
 In Angiis was I borne, but after when 
 
 I left the Schooles, to Italy I came : 
 
 And first turn'd Frier, of great Sainct Francis Order, 
 But loathing that, turn'd Hermite on this Border. 
 
 Know'st thou Father Mophet, that Jesuit Priest ? 
 As I heare say, hee ky in Prison long : 
 It's saide, that once hee should haue thee confest : 
 If not, the Worldes wide voyce, doth thee wrong. 
 
 And Father Crichton, is hee yet aliue ? 
 
 For Lecherie, they say, hee could not thriue. 
 
 And I heare say, that Father Gh^ay is dead. 
 And Father Gordon, drawes neare to his Graue, 
 And Father White, at Rhynsherg hath great neede. 
 And Father Broivne, would seerae to play the Knaue : 
 And Father Hebron, wee call Bonauenture, 
 Hee studies more than his Wittes well may venture. 
 
 They say, Father Anderson hath left Borne, 
 For strife, which in our Scots Colledge fell out. 
 And Father Leslie, hee dotb brooke his Roome : 
 There none of them, dealt honestlie, I doubt. 
 
 Our young Scots Studentes, they hunger to the heart, 
 The Pope allowes good meanes, and they it part.
 
 The Heremites Welcome. 
 
 That lesuit Oreene, in Wolmets is come rich, 
 And Father Gumming, in Venice' s gone madde : 
 And Lylle, at Bridges^ is become a Wretch. 
 For Ogelhie, alace, I must bee sadde : 
 
 They say dd Glasgoiv, he was hanged there : 
 Hee's now a Martyr, so Romane Writs declare. 
 
 That Veizon Bishop, of the Chissome Blood, 
 Hath Noble Partes, and worthie of his Breath : 
 Hee is benigne, and kinde, and still doth good 
 To Passengers, vnasking of their Faith. 
 And Curate Wallace, is a louing Priest : 
 But Father Roh, at Antwerpe, playes the Beast. 
 
 Thou canst not tell, how Signior Ferrier grees, 
 With Dauid Chambers, where in Rome they dwell : 
 Ferrier is false, and takes the Pilgrimes Fees, 
 And Chambers makes a show the Pope to tell. 
 They say in Rome, as manie Scots they bee, 
 The one high hanged, would the other see. 
 
 Alace, if I might safelie Home returne. 
 My Conscience knowes, the time that I haue spent, 
 And if they would accept mee, I should mourne, 
 In publicke show, and priuate to repent. 
 Alace, alace, wee're Hypocrites each one, 
 Wee make a Show, Religion we haue none. 
 
 So, to bee briefe, deare Friende, my Counsell take, 
 Treade not in Italic, For tug all, or Spaine : 
 These Hellish Priestes, of whom I mention make, 
 Will striue to catch thee, to thy deare-bought paine. 
 Goe ail-where else, but not within those Boundes. 
 These Gospellers, are blooddie hunting Houndes, 
 So farewel sonne, GOD guide thee where thou wanders, 
 And saue thy Soule from harme, thy Life from slanders,
 
 To the Noble, Illustrious, and Ilonou- 
 rahle LORDES, 
 
 LODOWICKE, DVKE OF LENNOXE, «feo. 
 
 lAMES, MARQVE8 OF HAMMILTON, &c. 
 
 GEORaE, MARQVES OF HVNTLEY, &c. 
 
 TO you great three, three greatest next our Crowne, 
 This smallest mite (though weake in meane) I bring : 
 Three Noble Peeres, true Objects of Eenowne, 
 Strong Columnes, still to whom the Muses sing. 
 Two in the West, diuided by a Flood, 
 The other Patrone in the North for good. 
 
 First thou, braue Duke, on Clydes North- coasted Bankes, 
 (The Lennoxe Landes, thy chiefest Stile, their Glore,) 
 Dost there illustrate, all inferiour Rankes, 
 Foorth from thy loue, their standinges, settle more : 
 
 Thrise happie Duke, in whome the Heauens enshrine, 
 
 True humane Vertues, Faculties diuine. 
 
 And now, bright Pole, of our Antarticke Clyde, 
 
 Mirrour of Vertue, Glorie of these Boundes : 
 
 In thee, the Worths of thine Ancestors byde, 
 
 Whose Greatnesse, Honour, to this Land redoundes. 
 So as thou liu st, great Marques, great in Might, 
 This Alhions Orbe, admire, adore, thy sight. 
 
 And thou, Chiefe Marques, in the Noble North, 
 (Their Articke-Splending Light, their Hemi-spheare) 
 What shines in thee ? But wonders of great worth ? 
 
 For
 
 For from thy selfe, true Chrystall Giftes appeare. 
 The glorious GORDONS, Guerdon of thy Name, 
 Thou art their Trophee, they maintaine thy Fame. 
 
 Thus in you three, three matchlesse Subjectes great, 
 I humblie heere, intombe, my Muse, my Paines : 
 Next to our triple Lampes, your triple State, 
 Is plac'cl, in which true honourd Worth remaines. 
 So from your Greatnesse, let some fauour shine, 
 To shaddow my Farewels, my rude Engine. 
 
 Your Lo. most Obsequious, &c. 
 
 William Lithgow. 
 
 AN E L E G 1 E , 
 
 Containing the Pilgrimes most humble 
 
 farewell to Jus JVattue aiid neuer 
 conquered Kingdome of SCOTLAND. 
 
 Tu verot mea Tellus, 8f Genitorum Patria 
 Vale : Nam viro licet plurimum malis obruatur 
 Nullum est suavius solum, quam quod nutriuit eum. 
 
 TO thee, dearest Soyle, these mourning Lines I bring. 
 And with a broken bleeding Breast, m.y sad Fareivell I sing, 
 Nowe melting Eyes dissolue, ivindie Sighes disclose, 
 The airie Vapour es of my grief e, sprung from my ivatrie woes : 
 And let my Dying-day, no sorroiv vncontrole, 
 Since on the Planets of my Plaintes, I moue about the Pole, 
 Shall I, restlesse I, still thivarting, runne this round ? 
 Whiles resting Mortalles restlesse Mount, I mouldarize the ground 
 And in m,y wandring long, in pleasure, paine, and greife, 
 Begges mercie of the mercielesse of sorroiv, sorroives chief e. 
 
 Sith
 
 The Pilgrimos Farewell to Scotland, 
 
 "& 
 
 Sith after two Returnes, my merites are forgot, 
 The third shall ende, or else repaire, my long estranging Lot. 
 Then Idndlie come distresse, a Figgefor Forraine care, 
 I gladlie in Extreames must walke, lohiles on this masse I fare. 
 The Woorhh. froioning face, the Turkish aiofidl hroio, 
 The Sarasene and Arabe bloives, poot^e I, must to them hoiu. 
 These Articles of Woe, my Monster-breeding paine, 
 As Pendicles on my poor e state, vnivisht for, shall remaine. 
 Thus fraught loith hitter Cares, I close my 3Ialcontentes, 
 Within this Kalendar of Griefe, to memorize my Plaintes. 
 And to that VVesterne Soyle, luhere Gallus once did dwell, 
 To Gallowedian Barrons I, impart this my Fareivell. 
 A Fo7Taine Debt I owe, braue Garlees, to thy loorth, 
 ''And to my Genrous Kenmure Knight, more than I can sing forth 
 To Boinbee / assigne, loive Homage for his hue : 
 And to Barnebarough kinde dt wise, a breast whiles breath may 
 Vnto the ivorthy Boyde, in Scotland, first in France, {moue. 
 I owe effectes of true good-ioill, a low-laide countenance. 
 And thou graue Lowdon Lord, L honour with the best. 
 And on the Noble Egiinton, my strong affections rest. 
 Kilmaers I admire, for quiche and readie ivit : 
 And graue Glencarne, his Father deare, on honours top doth sit: 
 And to thee gallant Rosse, loell scene in Forraine partes, 
 L sacrifice a Pilgrimes hue, amongst these Noble heartes. 
 From Carlile vnto Clyde, that Southwest shore I know : 
 And by the way. Lord Harreis /, remembrance duelie owe. 
 In that small progresse I, surueying all the West, 
 Euen to your Houses, one by one, my Lodging I adrest : 
 Tour kindnesse I imbracd, as not ingrate, The same 
 I memorize to future times, in eternized fame. 
 Amongst these long Goodnightes, fareivell yee Poets deare, 
 Graue Menstrie true Castalian fi^'c, quicke Drummond in his 
 Braue Murray ah is dead, Alton supplies his place, (sphea7'e. 
 And Alens high Pernassian veine, rare Poems doth embrace. 
 
 There's
 
 The Pilffrimes Farewell to Scotland. 
 
 'to 
 
 There's manie moe ivell kno2vne, ivhome I cannot explatjie, 
 
 And Gordon, Semple, Maxwell too, heme the Pcrnassian veins 
 
 And yee Colledgians all, thefruites of Learning graue 
 
 To you I consecrate my Loue, enstalde amongst the leaue. 
 
 First to you Hectors, I, and Begentes, homage make. 
 
 Then from your spiring Breasts, braue Youths, my leaue I humbly 
 
 And, Scotland, I attest, my Witnesse reignes aboue, (take. 
 
 In all 7ny worlde-wide ivandring loayes, I kept to thee my hue : 
 
 To manie Forraine Br castes, in these exyling Dayes, 
 
 In sympathizing Harmonies, I sung thine endlesse Frayse. 
 
 And where thou tvast not knotvne, I registerd thy Name, 
 
 Within their Annalles of Benoivne, to eternize thy Fame. 
 
 And this tivise haue I done, in my twise long Assayes, 
 
 A7id now the third time thrise I toil, thy Name vnconquerd raise. 
 
 Yea, I will stamp)e thy Badge, and scale it ivith my Blood : 
 
 And if I die in thy Be fence, I thinke mine Ende is good. 
 
 So dearest Soyle, deare, I sacrifice noio see, 
 
 Euen on the Altar of mine Heart, a spotlesse Loue to thee. 
 
 And Scotland now faretvell, farewell for manie Yeares : 
 
 This Fccho of Fareivell bringes out, from mee, a world of tear es. 
 
 Magnum virtutis principium est, ut dixit paulatim exercitatus 
 animus visibilia & transitoria primum commurare, ut post- 
 modum possit derelinquere. Delicatus ille est adhuc, cui 
 patria dulcis est ; fortis autem jam, cui omne solum patria 
 est : perfectus vero, cui mundus exilium est. 
 
 FINIS
 
 SCOTLAND'S TEARES, 
 
 BT 
 
 WILLIAME LITHGOW, 
 
 IN 
 
 HIS COUNTREYES BEHALF. 
 
 1625.
 
 LITIiaOW, TO HIS NOBLE AIECENAS. 
 
 If Thou acceptest of my panes, my Goodwill 
 shall be a sacrifice ; though the style be plane 
 
 THE MATTER IS GOOD : 1f ANY FAULT BE COMMITTED, 
 IMPUTE IT TO MY PRESENT SICKNES AND BODELY DESEASE. 
 
 Vive, Vale.
 
 SCOTLAND'S TEARES. 
 
 Thow quelling Bird, that courts Meanders brooks, 
 
 Where silver swans, accoast six hundreth crooks ; 
 
 Out of thy dyeing wing, send me a quill, 
 
 Dip'd in Penneian springs, from Pindus rill ; 
 
 To moyst my sun-scorched veyne, with liquid drops, 
 
 "Which flow from Soron, twixt the forked tops ; 
 
 The Nyujphs I cite to ayde, let them infuse. 
 
 Sweet Demthen rills, their Heliconean Muse ; 
 
 I sing the saddest verse ere Poet wrot, 
 
 Since that my Virgin wom.be, first bred a Scot : 10 
 
 Now launch I forth, now gush my watery plaints. 
 
 And shiv'ring come, as one through grief that faints i 
 
 Loade with the spoyles of sorrow, I complayne 
 
 All other woes, compar'd with myne, seeme vane ; 
 
 Onely salt teares, which from my bowells flow 
 
 Shall restles runne, and let the Occean know 
 
 My dyre distresse : Such clouddy accents wold 
 
 Have larger scope, than hembd-in Kegiones hold. 
 
 Me thinks a murmuring noyse, drawes from the South, 
 
 Post, post, he comes, the horn royndsin his mouth ; 
 
 The spurres are prest, the horse bends o're my bounds, 
 
 The boyes lips do quiver ; Death, Death, he sounds 
 
 The sound strikes through my heart. O dysmall day ! 
 
 That waxd so proud, of such a Princely prey ; 
 
 Death, packet-seald, my cheeffest City entered, 
 
 The Lords it ope> wsd Liberty so venterd : 
 
 (irim Death's disclosed, they weeping close their eyes, 
 
 Their greefs dividual, seeme but one desease : 
 
 20
 
 SCOTLAND S TEARES. 
 
 He flat dovvne falles, the other speechles stands, 
 
 One tears-strick blynd, another wrings his hands ; 30 
 
 The rest distracted, all passion-rent bewry 
 
 In deep-drawne sighs. Man's fate, King's destiny ; 
 
 One warbling voyce chirps out, one playnes how Death 
 
 Had robd great James his high imperiall breath : 
 
 This Eccho smote the hills, the hilles rebounded 
 
 Back on the vayles : the Rivers deadly wounded 
 
 Fled to the Belgick deeps : The Seas retourne 
 
 Their sinking loade, and swore the Land should 
 
 mourne. 
 Then groveling on the ground, half dead, I rose 
 And clos'd within myne armes, these bosome woes : 40 
 
 Thus sighing sayd I, is my Sov'raigne dead, 
 Or shall I want, my Ruler, and my head 
 My Sone, my Father, and my Lord, was he, 
 That crownd ray fortunes, I, his Pedegree : 
 My Valour w^as his Strength, his Law, my Love, 
 My Deeds, his Right, my loyall Faith, his Dove: 
 Betweene a King, and Kingdome, never Nation 
 Had such respondence, nor such immutation. 
 But now I listen, whence the Message comes, 
 That Me, unto eternall mourning doomes; 50 
 
 England's two Deaths, hath robd me twyse, one Prince, 
 The last, as worst, for ever, takes him thence. 
 What I shall I censure ? that my Sister's sin, 
 This judgement did procure ; the lyke hath bin, 
 That Kings for subjects suffer : Tymes allow, 
 That people for their Prince, are punished too : 
 Or can 1 cleare my self, and guiltless be, 
 Of this desaster ; Heavens best judge, and see ;
 
 SCOTLAND S TEARES." ."} 
 
 But how soe're, we both are cause, or either, 
 
 That we have lost, so just, so good, a Father, 60 
 
 Myne intrest, in my right, exceeds far more. 
 
 All others losse, than milleons can deplore : 
 
 I from a never-conquer'd Race, forth brought him, 
 
 And kept him long, till other Kingdomes sought him : 
 
 I plac'd the glory, on his Diademe, 
 
 Which his Ancestors, wore, and wonne, with fame. 
 
 Who from One hundreth six of noble Kings, 
 
 His Pedegree, unviolat, he brings ; 
 
 What Countreye, in this Universe can boast ? 
 
 Of such a Stock, though now my Prince, seems lost ; 70 
 
 And yet not lost, but changeth Earth, for Heaven, 
 
 The oddes are his, my fortunes left uneven : 
 
 And yet Heavens Verdict, wele foresaw, allone, 
 
 He should not fare, to that triumphant Throne : 
 
 Three best belov'd, with Loves entire I knoe, 
 
 Did challenge Death, they dye, away they go ; 
 
 As Harbingers to Heaven : 'ihey sute as freends, 
 
 The Court Hierchall ; done, their journey ends. 
 
 Two Lennox Dukes, kynd brother, after brother 
 
 Made way before ; each gloryeing in another ; 80 
 
 As if they had contended, to make haist. 
 
 To welcome there, their owne Imperiall Guest. 
 
 Than Hamilton fell next, my second Sone, 
 
 Prickd with desyre, his course, he quickly runne : 
 
 Lyke to the Star, that leads the Moone, so he. 
 
 Did post before, made way for Majestic. 
 
 Last came their King, the King of Mercy, met him. 
 
 And by his throne of glory, downe he set him : 
 
 High Alleluhiaes sung, the Angells joyed, 
 
 To see his sp'rit, from hence, so wele convoyed ; 90
 
 SCOTLAND S TEARES. 
 
 For they had saved him, in all fearefull seasons, 
 
 From Powder-plots, Conspiracies, and Treasons ; 
 
 Still lovd he Peace, and so he Peace posesst, 
 
 He livd in Peace, in Peace, his Soul, doth rest. 
 
 His Subjects, that the Orient Coasts have trode, 
 
 Who livd secure at home, as safe abroade ; 
 
 Their Peace, he fastned, to the furthest Inde, 
 
 Where travayles reachd, or ships could sayle by wynd : 
 
 What mighty discords, jarres, and forrane broyle, 
 
 Did he appease, and spard, no cost, nor toyle ; 100 
 
 He father-lyke, still quenched all Kingly ire, 
 
 And made his aged yeares, old Europes Syre : 
 
 Since Salomon, a wyser King ne'er raigned, 
 
 Nor whom the Learnd, and Learning more sustaynd : 
 
 In Memory unsurpassed, in Airts excelld, 
 
 In Oratrie, a Prince unparalelld ; 
 
 Whose sacred temples, knit with Delphian bayes, 
 
 Gaynd him, a Kingly Poet, Poets prayse. 
 
 His Justice, fraught with Mercy, bless'd his spirit, 
 
 And liberall, he was, beyond man's merit : 110 
 
 The widdowes, orphanes, and poore men opprest, 
 
 In him fund ayde, and in his justice rest ; 
 
 This long devyded He, he joynd in One, 
 
 And made this Britaine orbe, one Albion : 
 
 In him, surceased, the Irish warres, and They, 
 
 By him, wer taught, a Sovraigne, to obey : 
 
 And for to setle, that Estate the better. 
 
 Made large plantations, thousands came his debtor. 
 
 Of late, my second Scotia he erected, 
 
 And Collonies t' America directed. 120^ 
 
 What gift, or grace, did Nature e're adorne, 
 
 To which my mighty monarch was not borne.
 
 SCOTLAND S TEARES. 7 
 
 But now prodigious signes, portend my losse, 
 See how the surges ryse, the waters tosse 
 The seas presage a fall, their swelling streams 
 Do threat my coast : now violent extremes 
 Turne rage in madness : and tho waves at hand 
 Seeme weary, and would rest them, on the land : 
 They swallow up my works, and lyke to theves, 
 Are seldome quyet, when their nyghbour grieves; 130 
 
 I runne, and I adjurd them to recite 
 The cause of their dissorder ; they hurling sit 
 On trembling tops, and by a tumbling show, 
 Presag'd, that Death had stroke the fatall blow. 
 The clyme, the season fits, the tyme, was one 
 Their fury, in, my Sou'raignes Death, is gone. 
 
 day of darkness, covert of my woes, 
 Whence melancholy floods, of sorrow flowes. 
 My wracks erected ; The clouds profoundly wept 
 
 Fyve dayes and nights : The Sunne as clossely kept 140 
 
 His course obscure : The thundering wynds forth broke 
 
 As if they meant to shake some mighty oak : 
 
 Mens harts were loade with greef, their eyes with teares, 
 
 Are gushing spoyled ; their mynds o'recome with fears, 
 
 These elementall sygnes, foretold what losses 
 
 Death would produce, fraught with desastruous crosses : 
 
 My Darling dyes, my State declynes, and I, 
 
 My grievous plaints, in darker kynds, must dy ; 
 
 A dolefull widdow, wrapd in sable vales 
 
 1 must reraane, true mourning there bewayles : 150 
 But see my Nobles post, looke how they tracd, 
 
 To Isis banks, where his sad herse is placd ; 
 There to attend the corps, which they so tender ; 
 More, due, and duty, Death, they could not render ;
 
 8 Scotland's teares. 
 
 Nor is he dead, whose better parts remane, 
 
 The Sunnes ne'er set, but for to ryse agane ; 
 
 He did not so, assume, to leave the earth 
 
 Voyd of his Vertues, spoyld of royall birth ; 
 
 But in his Phenix ashes, there should spring 
 
 Another Phenix, for to be a King ; 160 
 
 Lyke to old Phebus, drawing to the west, 
 
 Seemd weary of his journey sought for rest ; 
 
 And left his second self, agane to ryse, 
 
 In morning majestic, to face the skyes, 
 
 And cheare the Elitropian leaves, that close 
 
 Their mourning eyes, till Titan's glory rose ; 
 
 And now my spotless faith, I plight thy Sonne, 
 
 That never yet was staynd, nor never wonne 
 
 My Mayden Crowne, thy image, he shall beare, 
 
 Thou left him for to sweye thy Scepters here ; 170 
 
 Peace, Love, and Pitty were thy guerdons three, 
 
 With THEM, thou raignst, now raignes eternally. 
 
 Farewele Monarchick Sainct, let Legions tend Thee, 
 
 As thou had Milleones, here for to defend Thee, 
 
 Finis, 
 
 By WILLIAM LITHGOW. 
 
 In his Countreyes behalf. 
 
 Go prostrat Lynes, greet thyne Appolloes herse, 
 Who, whylst alyve, lykd, lovd, and read my verse.
 
 r$M^'o. racr^fu^ 'tfouyft£&^' R^€y ^d" f^ccyyjJ 
 
 yy 
 
 c ^n7a£t 
 

 
 SCOTLANDS 
 
 WELCOME TO 
 
 HEK NATIVE SONNE, 
 
 AND SOVERAIGNE LORD, 
 
 KING 
 
 C H A E L E S 
 
 Wherein is also contained, the manner of His Coronation, and 
 Convocation of Parliament; The ivhole Grievances, 
 
 and abuses of the Common-wealth of this Kingdome, with 
 diverse other relations^ never heretofore published. 
 
 Worthy to be by all the Nobles and Gentry perused ; and to 
 
 be layd vp in the hearts, and chests of the whole Commouns, 
 
 whose interests may best claime it, either in meane, or maner, 
 
 fro7n which their Priuiledges, and fortunes are drawne, as 
 
 from the Loadstar of true direction. 
 
 By William Lithgow, the Bonaventvre 
 otEVBOPE, ASIA, and AFRICA. 
 
 De EEGE Vaticinium. 
 
 Pace data terris, animum ad civilia vertet 
 
 Jura suum, legesque feret justissimus auctor ; 
 
 Exemploque suo mores reget, inque futuri 
 
 Temporis cetatem, venturorumque nepotum 
 
 Prospiciens, prolem sanctd de conjuge natam 
 
 Ferre simul nomenque suum, curasque jubebit. Ovid. Met. 15. 
 
 EDINBVRGH 
 ^Printed byloHN Wreittovn. 
 Cum Privilegio.
 
 *
 
 THE PROLOGVE TO THE READER. 
 
 jj'^jHilst ScoTLANDs Welcome, sends its substant show 
 I ;To Mighty Chahles, as bund duetie owe ; 
 A'jyiTo whom sweet songs, and heavie plaints it brings, 
 ^M^ vMixt so, and framd, discovrinjr serious things : 
 
 so, and framd, discovring serious things 
 Yet some bhnd judgments may condemne my Muse, 
 For touching that, which they them selues abuse : 
 But if it gall, their stinking sores, long wounded, 
 A tush for base despight, from such hate grounded : 
 Whose guilt may plead, and tell their conscience thus, 
 Shrewd faults find eyes, and Tyme must punish vs ; 
 Which if one age ago, this Land had beene 
 Check'd of such faults, might now haue been fund cleane. 
 
 As for the Critick, or the carping Slaue, 
 Goe hang himselfe, I care not for a knaue : 
 Whilst for the Commoun-ivealth, I stand to plead, 
 To show Oppressours tyranny and greed : 
 And eu'ry grievous vyce, this Land affords. 
 Where I affect more matter, than coynd words, 
 Brayne-wrested straines, jEnigmatick stile. 
 Or epitomizd Epilogues the while : 
 Although I dyving could, and soaring fetch. ' 
 
 My top-winged flight, too high, for vulgar reach : 
 Whilst I meanwhile, haue more paynes to be plaine, 
 Than to be curious, in the highest strayne. 
 
 For what this worke aiFoords, lyf-burning Taper ! 
 I had no Bookes to read, when pennd, but Paper : 
 With Ink, and Pen, my Chamber-gQ.xnhh. bare, 
 Warme Bed, and Boord, none other Book was there : 
 But Memory, Invention, Jixperience great, 
 Whereon my labours, build their solid Seat ; 
 Which if it bee not well done, goe and mend it. 
 For with the same condition, I Thee send it : 
 But stop, O stay I its harder to invent. 
 Then adding invention, to whats here meant. 
 This Web then see, of welcome I it Warp, 
 Whiles playne and prolixe, sometymes breef, and sharp; 
 
 A Sad-
 
 Sadled, vnsadled, spurring on I goe, 
 
 And neither spares my friend, nor hurtes my foe, 
 
 But smoothly twixt two strugiing shoares I runne. 
 
 Flat-sandy Scilla, Charibdin rocks to shunne : 
 
 For twixt like two, the golden meane may rest, 
 
 Nether too bitter, nor too sweet is best : 
 
 Which justly I set downe, and purpose lyke, 
 
 Vpon the Annill, of the Trueth I stryke : 
 
 And if I erre in one jote, I requyre, 
 
 Let mee goe headlong to deaths fatall fyre. 
 
 Say, if he come this yeare, say he come not, 
 Yet t3'me shall praise mee, for a louing SCOT. 
 Which being doubtfull, precisely, how, and when, 
 I reddy made this worke, form Presse, from Pen : 
 Yet not to vent my Bookes, nor haue them sould, 
 Before myne eyes, his comming in behould : 
 To whome the first I owe, to be presented. 
 For onely, to him onely, its invented : 
 Which when it is devulgd, I dare expect. 
 From the judicious Lector, kynd respect. 
 
 Then read, misconster not, but wysely looke, 
 If reason be, the Mistrisse of my Booke, 
 And if I finger, what thou fayne wouldst touch, 
 ! thank mee, and be pleasd ; whylst I avouch. 
 The commoun sorrowes, of this groaning Land, 
 Which I lay open, to thyne open hand : 
 Then ponder, and peruse it, thou shalst fynd, 
 The Sole Idea, of thy Countreyes Mynd. 
 
 TJiyne, as Thou art Myne, 
 William Lithgovv. 
 
 Non vita hcBC ducenda est, quce corpore ^ spiritu continetur, 
 
 ilia inquam, ilia vita est, quce viget memorid sfsculortim 
 
 omnium, quam posteritas alit, quam ipsa ceter- 
 
 nitas semper intuetuf.
 
 TO HIS KYND FRIEND, AND RENOWNED 
 
 Traveller, William Lithgovv. 
 
 WHILST thyne adventures past, and Travells rare, 
 In hotest Clymcs, of vigour-parching Sxmne : 
 Through Europe., Asia, Africk thryse thy share, 
 O're which brunt face, thy scorched Body runne : 
 Still clogd with dangers, fortunat to shunne. "* 
 
 Lyf-fatall hazards ; which attempts procurd, 
 From curious drifts ; and which thy worth begunne, 
 To knit thy fame, in memory immurd ; 
 Renownd, admyrd, applausd, for aye assurd, 
 To soare on wings, of never-dyeing Toyles, 
 And in thy paynes, thy Countreyes name securd, 
 Into the Annates, of remotest Soyles : 
 But what I now admyre, are these thy spoyles. 
 Thou bringst from Pindus Tops ; rare bred straine I 
 And pregnant style, which thyne engyne recoyles ; 
 To show these greefs, which Scotland, do'th sustayne : 
 A worke, where Trueth, most justly do'th complayne, 
 On the abuse, and grievance of this Land, 
 Which thou breks vp, from thy Patheticque veyne, 
 To show thy Sou'raigne, how her cace doth stand : 
 Then Royall Sir, but listen to puruse. 
 The sweet-sad songs of Litliyoivs matchles Mtise, 
 And Thou shalst see, what never yet was showne. 
 To Scottish Kings ; since Scot/and first was knowne. 
 
 I. W. 
 
 V I R G. 
 
 Tu ne cede malis, sed contra audentior ito.
 
 TO HIS LOVING PILaRIMAGIOVS POET, 
 WILLIAM LITHGOW. 
 
 (^ AN not thy Travells, blaze abroad thy worth? 
 ^ Which never yet did SCOT, the lyke set forth, 
 Nor one in Europe, can with Thee compare, 
 For thyne adventures, excellent, and rare, 
 But that thou must, in adding fame, to fame, 
 Thy matchles merits, in thy Muse proclayme : 
 I can not call it Pryde, but vertue shovvne, 
 From Thee, to vs, through this wyde lie well knowne : 
 Rut more an obligation, which thou ought. 
 Vnto thy natiue Soyle ; so headlong brought, 
 In deep distresses, grieuances, and losse, 
 Whilst sorrow, on sorrow, addes crosse, to crosse. 
 Which thou rippst vp, vnto the very roote. 
 Whence all these evills come, and springing sprout : 
 Besydes this jouiall welcome, to our King, 
 Which quicke Invention, now to light doth bring : 
 I rare relations I worthy of regard ! 
 A nd from thy Prince, and Soyle, deserve reward : 
 But more for what, thou sufFerd into Spaine, 
 For CHRIST and Countrey, and thy late iiouraigne: 
 Which if it be not weighd, in time 1 feare. 
 That late repentance, shall buy pennance deare. 
 Tynies haue their turnes, and ev'ry turne a Tyme. 
 Men could not shift, without some changing Clyme ; 
 For where neglect, claps merit on the face, 
 The errour, not the object, reaps disgrace : 
 Then pregnant Filgrime, rest thou yet content, 
 Hope still that Tyme, shall crowne thy braue intent, 
 KINGS haue their mynds, and reason just demands, 
 For Merit, can not fall, where judgment stands. 
 
 I. A. 
 
 Virtus repulscB ncscia sordidce 
 
 Intaminatis fulget honoribus. Horat.
 
 
 
 
 
 SCOT LANDS 
 
 WELCOME TO 
 
 HER NATIVE SONiNE, 
 
 AND SOVERAIGNE LORD, 
 
 KING 
 
 CHARLES 
 
 Hat dark-drawne shads, haue mysad face ore'spred ? 
 ^Since lames, the just, my peacefull King, hath fled 
 bTo court the King o^ Kings ; and Hierarchies 
 Of glorious Angels ; the sweet harmonies 
 Of Saincts and Martyrs ; environing round 
 The old Eternall ; with the joyfull sound 
 Of Alleluhiaes ; singing fore the T7irone, 
 Holy, Holy, Lord, to Heavens, Holy One ; 
 The Lamb of God, hembd in, with burning glore 
 Praise, Might, Dominion, Majestic, and Power ; 
 Where my Monarchick Sainct, for ever blest, 
 Is crownd, and raignes, in long eternall rest. 
 
 I, I, I find, my griefe, and chiefest care, 
 Proceeds from wanting, of his Sonne, and heyre, 
 So long vnuiewing Mee, and my sad bounds; 
 "Whose absence, prick'd Mee, with ten thousand wounds 
 Of doubts, and apprehensions, if, or not. 
 My lawful! Ki7ig, would haue his Lawfull lot: 
 
 A Whilst
 
 ScoTLANDs Welcome to her Natiue Sonne, 
 
 Whilst diverse yeares and months I am refute, 
 A mourning Widoiv, left in sable Sute. 
 
 True, and most true it is, the Proverbe proues. 
 That age is still injurd, by younger loues : 
 And so am I, thine eldest Region made, 
 A preye to darke obliuions winter-shade. 
 Even as young Nuptialls, make olde Widowes stay, 
 Wn wedded, till some lingring Hushayids day. 
 Where, when advyce, makes resolution fast, 
 The cords of Reason^ bynds him at the last. 
 
 So now, O now hee comes ! O happy, Tyme ! 
 To warme the bowells of my northern Clyme, 
 Aud to reveiwe that Loue, my Sire left. 
 Plight in my bosome, when the Heavens him rest : 
 For which I'le make him welcome. Play the part, 
 Of a kind Mother, with a chearefull Heart. 
 
 What meanes this goodly sight ? these trouping traines ? 
 Which trace the Marine : trade the curling plaines ? 
 Crossing neare Tweed, my border-bounding Rod, 
 Would enter on my Lists, a Demi- God: 
 Second'd with Meteors, glistring him about, 
 And met with Miriads, of my noble rout. 
 
 some rare noveltie 1 some Heros deare ! 
 
 Who with his Prime, brings in my Springtyde here, 
 
 The Load-star of my Fortunes, and the Cime, 
 
 Of my best Scopes, most pure, and most sublime. 
 
 My flowre of Albion, O 1 the solide way! 
 
 And center of my Hopes, my Lyfe, my Stay : 
 
 Even CHARLES the first, that ev'r brookd that Name, 
 
 And Regall title, of my Diademe. 
 
 Than welcome Sonne, my Husband, and my Father. 
 All these to Mee, thou art, each one, or either. 
 My Sonne, and why ? Dumfermling beares record, 
 
 1 am thy Patrian Mother in a word : 
 
 My Husband too, by right from Parents bred, 
 When with my Crowne, thou hast my freedome wed : 
 
 And
 
 Jnd Soueraifjnc LORD, King Charles. 
 
 And last ray Syre^ so can thy Scepter swey, 
 V\ hilst tliou boarcs rule, I'me bund for to obey : 
 
 And now to welcome Ihee, what Lesbian layes? 
 With Zyr?c/d-tripping songs ; what Roundelayes ? 
 In /So/j/t/c/-- seasond mirth burst from the Muses, 
 And Caiaphalion Creeks ; where Triton vses, 
 To make the Sea-Nymphs daunce, O ! shrill tund notes, 
 Spiung from Invention ; thundring, through sweet throates 
 Of euer springing joyes : Rome nere had 
 In all her Triumphs past, one day more glad ; 
 Than thou auspicious Prince, shall now imbrace 
 From Millions of kynd Smiles ; the passing grace, 
 Of Loues extreamest force, lyke as on Earth, 
 . Seven Town-set Loues, Heart-swelld for Homers birth. 
 
 Then what dark clowds dissolue ? what showry shades? 
 Dissolue in Sun-shyne clearenes? what sparkling wades? 
 In tliy transplendant rayes? what parching beames? 
 My worlds eye-sight imparts ? what glistring gleames ? 
 From Heavens star-spangled Roabe ? what joyes abound ? 
 Within my Boivells ? ! what pleasant sound? 
 Loues harmony affords ? O ! what rare Fleece ? 
 Acoast, myne Arathusean Springs from Greece, 
 With Acedalian Triumphes ; O ! what a blis ? 
 And happynes, of Tub He is this? 
 To see my 3Tonarch, enter in my bounds 
 To heale the sores, of my long bleeding wounds : 
 Whilst I, an Virgine, haue contingd my trueth, 
 Vnspotted to my all redouted Youth. 
 
 Lyke to that floure, Panthoas into Creet, 
 That scornes the Sun-shyne day? and loues to greet. 
 The siluer Moone, in opning golden leaues, 
 But to the day-tyme none, then onely grieues ; 
 And will not with none other hearbs cohere, 
 But with it selfe, and from it Cynthia deare, 
 So thou the Aurore, of my long worne night 
 Reverts to giue, thy chast Panthoas light ! 
 
 A 2 Then
 
 ScoTLANDs Welcome to her Natiue Sonne, 
 
 Then welcome Soveraigne, welcome to my Soyle, 
 Where thou shalst pleasure, and content recoyle ; 
 Here water Nymphs exult, here Zephire blowes 
 A Vandedalian luster to my Hose : 
 The aire resounds thy welcome, winds their part, 
 And all good Subjects, one true voice, one heart : 
 Two Marines closing, clasp Thee, in their amies 
 Where clouddy Silvern tip-toed, stately charmes 
 With sweet allurementc, shaddy pyping Pan, 
 Whilst worlds of voyces, seeme one singing Man. 
 
 So ecchoing Birds, from sweet redoubling notes. 
 Sing soaring welcomes, though through diverse throates, 
 Ingraft from fragrant Springs, i^tpw^-gushing streames 
 Melting through Meeds, to welcome Thee from Thames: 
 Three floods sprung from one Hill, East, West, and South, 
 Clyde, Tweed, and Annan, each with gaping mouth, 
 Doth bellowing roare, and kyndly tumbling slyde. 
 To greet thy gratefull Loue, as they divide : 
 So Don, and Nith, swift Dee, and head strong Tay 
 Lake-linking Levin, Meandring Forth, and Spay ; 
 Would melting murmure, rusling on fish'd Pearles, 
 This sweet, sweet Eccho, welcome, welcome Charles. 
 The Hills rebound, Bellowmound threats the Skies, 
 And piramized Tii^ito would surprise 
 Earths high ^ILthereall Seat ; whilst GoatJieldhW], 
 In Arrane greets the Mayne, with ecchoes shrill 
 Of Heart-growne joyes, whiles that her snow-whyte Tops 
 Stoup downe, and kindly thin affection lops. 
 The Vayles exhale deep cryes, the whistling rounds, 
 Of ['Earths se\eu-^ord Towres, perfonne like sounds ; 
 All bid Thee welcome, Lithgovv bids Thee too ; 
 For what in meane hee wants, goodwill shall doe 
 A" I) I N- Let Edinburgh, my Metropole, perfite 
 BVRGHS -pj^g ,.gg^ ^jji^ Pageants, of admird delite : 
 
 Where Mercury shall speake, with syde-hung wings. 
 And luno kisse soft Pallas ; Venus brings 
 
 urlcome. 
 
 Her
 
 And Soveraigne LORD, King Charles. 
 
 ITer golden Apple; Lone and Riches carp, 
 
 (Jainst Wiicdo/iic, on, their Ciod Appollocs Harp : 
 
 There shall shrill Trumpets sound, lovvd thundring Drummes, 
 
 With roaring Cannons, cry, llee comes, Ilee comes: 
 
 Where, when receau'd, by that illustrious Towne, 
 
 Along thou rydst to Church, gracd in renowne : 
 
 Where thou shalst heare, flow from a zealous heat 
 
 Divine drawne doctrine, mixt with welcomes great : 
 
 Jiesides rare speeches, at each Pageant made, 
 
 To cherish thine arrivall ; make the glad 
 
 With lovely sights and prayses ; Poets straine, 
 
 Sprung from quick Drvmmonds fierce Castalian veine. 
 
 The Sermon done, their Provost shall conduct 
 Thy sacred Person, the way, which they construct 
 Straight to their Banquet-house, and feasting place ; 
 Where rarest dainties shall present thy face: 
 There Ceres ]oyv\Gs \\''\\\\ Bacchus ; H i/men irov/es,. 
 To tye to them thy Loue, by solemne vowes ; 
 For to maintaine, their libertie and right. 
 Being their comfort, when they want thy sight. 
 Ami ah ! too much it is, for that kind Towne, 
 To want thy Court and Presence ; what pulles downe 
 Best Citties now on Earth ? But want of trade. 
 And Courtly Commerce; O ! a Soveraigne head: 
 Where now I leaue them, to giue Thee content. 
 For Pie debord no more from mine intent. 
 
 That fright-fled wandring Prince, from Ilions fire, 
 Neu'r coasted Carthage, with more glad desire ; 
 And the Barharian shoare ; to find the grace, 
 Of loving Dido, and her pittying face ; 
 Than thou from this, Numidia of thine, 
 Gets meeting, greeting, treating to bee myne : 
 And gladder far, to see thy safe returne. 
 Than Africks soile, could in affection burne, 
 Vnto a Stranger ; for thou comes not so, 
 As if promiscuous, neither friend nor {oe. 
 
 A 3 Nor
 
 ScoTLANDs Wellcome to her Natiue Sonne, 
 
 Nor comes thou with sterne bloody collours flying, 
 repugnant Or with a doubtfull mynd, as one a dying : 
 cZparisons. ^or lyke these Turkish fyre-brands of Hell, 
 The race of Ottoman ; that loue to quell, 
 All sorts of People ; Persian. Greeke, and letv, 
 Arabian, Moore, and Christian, would subdew, 
 The Universe to bee, but one Dominion, 
 AVherein, the Spanyard too, would bee his Minion : 
 
 Nay ; thou comes better, so the Heavens appoynted, 
 Euen, in the name of GOD, the LORDS anoynted : 
 So, I receaue Thee, as the righteous Heyre, 
 Of Mee, and niyne inheritance, moft fayre. 
 Which shall not crowne Thee, lyke these groaning bounds, 
 Hemb'd in about, with the Hircanian rounds : 
 Nor comes thou to encroach, on Indian Soyles, 
 To pillage Peru ; and to cast the spoyles 
 Of minrall Mettalls, on sterne bloody Mars, 
 Wherewith sad Epitaphs, bedeck Mens Herse : 
 Nor, as the Worlds Vsurper Philip did. 
 When hee betrayd Navarre, vnder plots hid : 
 Nor as liee seazd, on Portugale, and tooke, 
 From lost Emanuell, the golden Booke : 
 Nor like to Petro, basely murthring downe. 
 The French, at Vespers, for the Sidle Crowne : 
 
 Lyke instances, I many could afturd, 
 But Tynie, it traitours Mee, and in a word, 
 O 1 thou comes \vell ! and with a Conscience just ; 
 Of right indubitable ; Reason must, 
 On Thee, confer my neuer-conquerd Crowne, 
 Which now shall Crowne Thee, with the old renowne, 
 Of thine Aunce tors ; and which birth Thee brings, 
 Descended from one hundreth, and seuen Kings: 
 W^hich they by worth, and I by valour kept, 
 Whibt myne encroaching foes, with Ir?ie I whipt. 
 
 But by thy leaue, (Sir,) I must let Thee see, 
 What kynd of Crowne, I now })resent to Thee ; 
 
 Scotlands 
 Crmvne 
 never con- 
 querd.
 
 And Sovaraigne LORD, King Chakles. 
 
 A Mayden Croume, vnconquerd, neuer wone, 
 
 Since Fergus, my first Moiuirch it begunne : 
 
 And so from him, to Kenneth who subdued, 
 
 The Pights, and in their blood his hands imbrewd : 
 
 Whence bloody battells, and braue chivalrye, 
 
 From race, to race, kept and maintaynd it free : 
 
 AVhiJst neither Danes, nor English, Saxons could, 
 
 With awfull Romans, this Crowne, get, or hould, 
 
 Such were my forces, in my Champions strong, 
 
 That still keept, it and Mee from forraine wrong. 
 
 What should 1 speake of Wallace, Bruce, and Grahame ? 
 
 The Doicqlasses, and Stewarts, of great fame ? Thevalmr 
 
 ,.r- , , , ^ , 1 . of Scotish 
 
 With thousands moe, ot much renowned worth, v:orthks. 
 
 Which my true Chronicle, vively sets foorth, 
 
 But leau(; Thee there to reade, what deeds were wrought, 
 
 And for thy matchles Auncients, stoutly fought, 
 
 How many hundreth thowsand Lyves were lost? 
 Which from my bowells sprung ; nay; I dare boast, 
 Of Millions whic!) to saue, this Crowne for Thee, 
 And })urchase freedome, car'd not for to dye. 
 So lykc 1 sweare, if lyke were to invade, 
 My Crowne, their fates, in fields of blood, should wade : 
 'J han let not evill Counsell, Thee invest, 
 Nor trechrous Sicophant, thy peace molest: 
 For I haue none, which burrow, of 3Iee breath, 
 But rather far, will spend their lives on death ; 
 Than suffer this, myne auncient right to goe, 
 To moderne frienilship, ones my cruell foe, 
 
 And now to saue, this Virgin Crowne for Thee, 
 
 There is no foe, can fright Mee, make mee flee, 
 
 From right, from field, from battell, force, or fight, 
 
 So long as I haue Lyfe, blood, Lungs, or might : 
 
 Whilst now ; what Kingdome can their Prince renowned 
 
 With lyke invinced, freedome of a Crowne : 
 
 Looke to my valour Past? and thou mayst spy, 
 
 Where diuerse Nations, got of Mee supply. 
 
 France
 
 ScoTLANDS Welcome to her Natiue Sonne, 
 
 Fraunce can approue my Manhood, I relieu'd 
 Their State from thraldome, when it was surgrieu'd : 
 W'itnesse, our mutuall League, witnesse their guard 
 And myne their naturaliz'd, for my reward. 
 
 Like Belgians sweare, their strength, their stoutest hand, 
 And Warriours best, are bred within my hand: 
 Tlie Almaynes too record, what I haue done 
 And what my ^>ouldiers, aunciently there wone : 
 Locke to my Sister Swethland, and behold ! 
 What birth 1 send them, despVate, stout, and bold : 
 For FoUand shee's my Nurse, brings vp my Youth, 
 Full thritty thousands, yearely, of a trueth ; 
 Than loades them with, the fatnesse of her So//le, 
 Which, I, in their due tyme, doe still recoyle : 
 1 ban look to Denmark, where twelue thousands ly, 
 Serving thine Vncle, sharpest fortunes try. 
 Some rer- Last, step I o're to Ireland, and doe see, 
 
 tainemm. p^^,, ^onnx thousand Scots, arm'd Men, there bee : 
 Uant Scots. Resides, at home, one hundreth thousands moe. 
 
 Young, stout, and strong, well arm'd for Thee, to goe ; 
 
 To challenge Destinie, and cruell Fate, 
 
 And all Vsurpers, dare menace my State: 
 
 Then slight riiee not (Dread Sir) since I, and Myne, 
 
 Still vow, to serue Ihee, as wee liaue done Thyne : 
 
 For by this count, and much more, thou mayst see, 
 
 What forces great, my bounds, reserue for Thee. 
 
 The World, Mans Theater, and commoun Stage, 
 WHierein, each acts his part, in youth or age ; 
 Can not, nor could, produce, a Manlyer kynd 
 (Of Hearts invincible, of constant mynd ; 
 >tout, strong, and Durable, Couragious too. 
 Ever still, formost, where, there's most adoe) 
 Than those my Martiall Sonnes ; whose Hearts now yeeld, 
 Their hands, their swords, to fight for Thee, in field : 
 Being Buffles in cold. Elephants in rayne, 
 Camels in hunger, Lyons after gaine. 
 
 And
 
 ji7id Soveraigne LORD King Chaijles. 
 
 And now obsequious to tliy new-reard Crowne, 
 Would lay their goods and liues before Tliee downe : 
 Then bee thou jocund ; and redound them thankes. 
 In private and in puhUct, by their ranks : 
 Thy great Grand-father, O ! Kitig lames the fift, 
 Was merry, stout, and ivise, Henrie vmvift ; 
 The flower of Princes, mirrour of his tyme, 
 Made Christendome admire his Manli/ pryme : 
 So TJiou his second self, by worth succeeds, 
 And Nature too, to all his vertuous deeds : 
 Then let thy chearefull face, with jovlall rayes 
 llluminat thy Peoples loue and praise : 
 Thus, thy late Syre, Salomon; my King, 
 When bee surveighd mee last, did comforts bring, 
 And joyes abundant to this ^^Ahion land ; 
 Which bee by death did seaze into thy hand. 
 
 So, so, I come to crown Thee, whilst the Heavens The coro- 
 
 O'reshaddow Thee with Seraph'd Cheruhins : 
 AVhence, glorious Angels flee with joyfull wingj^ 
 Of Peace and gladnes from the King of Kings ; 
 '\g blesse this sacred work, and happy vnion, 
 Twixt Prince and People ; O ! thryse blest communion I 
 The Springs Pceneian flow, sweet Demthen Rills, 
 Swell from steep Pindus ; Permessis, gushing fills 
 The Sorean fonted Meeds ; the forked Tops, 
 Dissolue, and melt in Heliconean drops. 
 
 From whence the Nymphall nyne take flight, and come, 
 Crownd with Rose garlands, Delphian bayes, and some 
 With Laurell Mantles of the Oliue, hew, 
 To grace this Coronation, Sir ; of You : 
 And leaue the ceremoniall rest to bee 
 Done by the Bishop oi Sainct-Andreices ; Hee 
 Shall blesse Thee, anoynt Thee, in word, in deed, 
 Then set my golden Crowne on thy blest Head : 
 Whilst thou in Purple Roabes of State shall stand, 
 To blesse thy People, with thy tongue and hand : 
 
 B Which
 
 ScOTLANPS Welcome to her Natiue Sonne, 
 
 Which done, their Hearts and voices shall cry thus, 
 GOD saue and keepe King Charles long for vs. 
 O Hellespont ! now groanes to beare the lode ! 
 
 Of Kynd Leanders loue to Hieroes God. 
 
 Whilst both my Stvord, and Scepter downe are layd 
 
 Before thy Face, in signe I am a Mayd: 
 
 Which Guerdo-knot, none can vnty, nor twist, 
 
 Till thou my PhilUpides, lyke and list : 
 
 Now thou art crownd, and since I crownd thy Sgrc^ 
 
 lust, threescore tvvo yeares presently expyre : 
 
 Though Crownes bee Crownes of Care ; God grant my Croinie, 
 
 May Health, Wealth, Loue, and Peace to Thee redoune : 
 
 Which long may thou enjoy, and thy Race, 
 
 So long as Sunne, or Moone, keep course or place. 
 The Parli- Now comes my Parliament, now comes these tymes, 
 ament. Where thou and they should vindicate grosse crymes : 
 
 Sit then in ludgement, and bee carefull too, 
 
 For to performe what thy great charge should doe : 
 
 First then confirme both wholesome Lawes and good, 
 
 And. &iSih\h\\ justice ; let thy Croce conclude 
 
 A final 1 resolution, for my State 
 
 In Counsell and in Session : ah ! of late 
 
 A foggy mi«t dissolu'd, and broke asunder; 
 
 My Pillars from the Marble pauement vnder : 
 As Judges should bee just, so should they bee 
 
 As prompt, for to doe justice speedily ; 
 
 And not with long delayes, to wring the lyfe 
 
 Of poore Mens causes, to a doubtfull strife : 
 
 Which often blinds the right, and turnes the wrong, 
 
 Victorious over reason ; O ! sad song ! 
 
 When equity is curbd ; and squink respect 
 
 Involues the trueth into a base neglect ; 
 
 Els in Buccardo, sealing misregard 
 
 Y or fauour, friendship Jiattry, or reward: 
 
 So thus too oft is justice wrung and wounded. 
 
 And wholesome lawes for private ends confounded. 
 
 But
 
 And Sovera/'gfie LORD, King Charles. 
 
 But meanewhile, I thy greatest Care recall, 
 To settle true Religion., and enstall 
 Good godly Men and sound, in Prelats function, 
 Mou'd by devoution, and conscious compunction : 
 So shall the Gospell floorish, and thy lyfe 
 Made peacefull, happy, from seditious stryfe. 
 
 As for my Clergie, I affirming vow, 
 The solid trueth to God, and then to You ; 
 There are no People, nor no Land so blest, 
 With Godly Preachers, and Gods word profest 
 With more sinteritie, taught, showne, and preach'd, 
 Than in my Kingdome, there was never teach'd 
 Profounder doctrine ; more divine resounds 
 In Christs reformed Church., than in my bounds : 
 Which to persite, an vniformall mynd, 
 God grant \\\?, Sacrament may passage find : 
 And scruplous stops may bee hewne downe, and made 
 As plaine, as Christ Himselfe ; vs taught and sayd. 
 
 Now rie degresse, and leaue this vpper part 
 Of Church and Sta^e to GoD, and thy just Heart : 
 I haue no lower house of Parliament, 
 To punish or represse each detriment ; 
 Prest greivance, or abuse of Commomveale, 
 Uut what my suffrings must to Thee reveale ; 
 Then heere they are, and ponder them, I pray Thee, 
 And let not these my just complaints dismay Thee ; 
 But rather cause amend them, and redresse 
 These grosse enormities, which I'le expresse. 
 
 True and most true it is, my chiefest health The a- 
 
 Consists (Dread Sir) most in the Commonwealth: base of the 
 
 Which ah allace ! hath never heeretofore imilth. 
 
 Beene soundly pitch'd, lesse grounded, and far more 
 DisdainefuUy cast off, for who are they 
 That ever stroue a Commonn course to swey? 
 There is no Providence, nor publick good 
 Graft in my bosome, my Townes are denude 
 
 B 2 Of
 
 ScoTLANDs Welcome to her Natiue Sonne, 
 
 0{ Policie and Venters ; IMen please themselues, 
 And care not though my fortune split on Shelues : 
 Haue I not Floods and Seas, good Ships and Ports ? 
 Braue Sea-tnen, Pilots, Skippers, and Consorts ; 
 But where's the Merchand that will freely enter, 
 To put these Men to work ; and byde the venter 
 Of doubtfuU successe ; nay; there's none I see, 
 That now dare hazard further than his eye : 
 Yet Mans not borne to please himselfe alone, 
 That were idolatrizing loue to one : 
 But totally for God, partly for friends, 
 Partly for Countrey, last for his owne ends. 
 
 As for my Trades, they're ruind with decay, 
 There few or none imployd : My Nobles play 
 The curious Coiirtizan ; that will not bee 
 But in strange fashions ; O 1 what Noveltie 
 Is this ? than London, robbes Mee of my gaine : 
 "Whilst both my Trades and Merchands suffer paine. 
 Nay ; I must stay, there is no courtly guyse, 
 Nor frivole toyes thou frenchifyed thryse, 
 Bee't in or out of fashion, Myne must haue it ; 
 Though neither meanes nor honesty would craue it. 
 But since they will proue fooles, yet why should Strangers 
 Enjoy the profit from fantastick Rangers, 
 And not myne owne ? There is no Nation can, 
 Compare with my best Trades ; match man for man. 
 Siiperilvr Besides my Nobles, see my Gentry too 
 
 ous posiin(j Post vp, post downe ; their states for to vndoe : 
 Nay, they will morgadge all ; and to bee breefe, 
 Hyde vp with gold, and turne againe with greefe : 
 Who better far might stay atjiome, and liue, 
 And not their meanes to lonelesse labour giue. 
 It grieues Mee, I should yeeld them yeerely rent, 
 Whilst vainely it in Neighbour Lands is spent : 
 But ecce homo, and behold the end. 
 My Lands change Land- Lords, whilst my Youngsters spend. 
 
 Nay
 
 ^nd Soveraigne LORD, King Chaules. 
 
 Nay there's a gen'rall ruyne through my bounds, 
 
 Which makes my sydes to shiver : O I what wounds 
 
 By Produjals I get '? There's not a stroake 
 
 These Spend-thrifts thrust, but brings Mee in some yoke : 
 
 And thus they take my momy all away 
 
 To spend abroad ; whilst it should rather stay, 
 
 For to enrich my Bowels ; and to barter, 
 
 For Cornes and Merchandise in every quarter. 
 
 Then Post and Post ati:aine, Post altogether 
 To Bag-shot^ then to beggrie ; nay, and whether ? 
 Too roote from Earth their memorie and Name, 
 Stamping themselues on Hippodromes of shame: 
 I care not for their falls, their lands ly still, 
 Though changd from hand to hand, from ill to ill : 
 And like the Weather-Cock, from Airt to Airts, 
 Their locall grounds are changd from pairt to pairts : 
 Now heere's a wedset, there's a flying off, 
 And heere's the prison, there's a laylours scoff: 
 In comes Thorn Tumbler with his bags and bellie. 
 To alter Tackes and Rentals ; I must tell Thee, 
 I pitty my poore Commouns, and their toile. 
 Made to new Vpstarts and their greed a spoile, 
 
 How can my Tennants Hue ? How can they thriue ? 
 How can they growing stand ? When dead aliue, 
 Slane by oppression, extortion, debate, 
 From Laird to Laird, in their Camelion State : 
 The Tennants suffer all, allace poore Soules ! 
 Still preyd vpon, by Bankerouts and Fooles : 
 Then it's no wonder, though my land bee poore. 
 When now most Land Lords play the errand whoore, 
 In shifting Rents and Styles, as many tymes, 
 As Lais, Cori?iths Strumpet did of crvmes. 
 
 l^eleeue Mee Sir, I feare this revocation. 
 Make many one revoke both state and station ; Jievora- 
 
 My Lords they post vp dayly to thy Court, 
 And ly there Months and Veares ; and doe resort 
 
 B 3 T( 
 
 (i'jn.
 
 ScoTLANDS Welcome to her Natiue Sonne, 
 
 To London, as their Livings lay and Land, 
 In midst of Cheapsyde, Kingstreete, or the Strand : 
 My Gentry too and Ktiights, and oft Commissioners, 
 In this repenting excesse turne Practitioners : 
 Still vp and downe they make a play of Posting, 
 And laugh at lavish expence ; fall a boasting 
 Who oftest courts thy Court, whilst here at home 
 Their Wiw^s and Children cry, when will they come ? 
 Yea, yea, they come, but with an empty hand, 
 And to turne back, morgadging heere more land : 
 Wherein 1 vow, that England turnes a curse 
 To mee, and my spent Gentry, and their Purse. 
 I graunt their Tongues can make my Gallants spend, 
 And suck them dry, till all come to an end : 
 And why ? cause in a Rodomiinto, they 
 Pla\^ the Orlando Furioso aye : 
 As well in humours, as in lavish charges, 
 Which makes most femals weare such skar-clift Targes, 
 Where deepest strokes in strugling force are given. 
 Till both Mens Ribs and Rigs are backward driven : 
 Whilst the Defendants swallow vp such meanes, 
 As Reapers doe, that both cut downe and gleanes : 
 Then in a word, its gluttonie and lust, 
 That brings so many headlong to the dust. 
 For now at eu'ry startling peevish thing, 
 lack, Thome^ and Robin post vp to the King : 
 And will not to thy Counsels judgement stand, 
 Plac'd heere as Lights, the Sword of thy right hand, 
 To judge, \^ Judges, judge aright or not, 
 And may declare on each sinistruous Spot : 
 \\ hich by thyselfe was done, and set a sunder, 
 The Counsell plac'd aboue, the Judges vnder : 
 But (Sir) I humbly beg, it were well done 
 To punish these distractions out of tune, 
 And send them back, to censurd be, and stand, 
 Submissiue to the justice of this Land: 
 
 Els
 
 And Sovcraigne LOUD, King Charles. 
 
 Els they will vexe T7iee, and such custome bring, 
 That Woemen too will post vp to the King. 
 
 Then let an Act bee made, in my regard, 
 That neither Lord, nor Earle, Knight, nor Laird^ 
 Shall po.-t more vp to London, but reraayne 
 At home, and spend their rents, where growes their graine : 
 And to succurabe themselues, and their debate, 
 Vnto the Lords and Pillars of my State : 
 
 For which, as duety owe, they being bund, » 
 
 Posting shall cease, and Justice here bee fund : 
 Nay I dare say, since thy late Fathers death, ». 
 
 His buriall, and his Funerall, in Faith, 
 There Millions two of gold from Mee transported, 
 And spent at London, where my Gallants sported ; 
 And leaue at home (God knowes) a threed bare count, 
 Which far beyond their yearelie rents surmount. 
 
 Then deare and tender Sir, let this bee stopt, 
 Thine absence is enough, should I bee lopt 
 From Top and Middle, to the naked root ; 
 Whilst from my Commouns all these moneys sprout : 
 The Merchand hee complaines, the Trads-man mournes 
 The Tennant sore oppressd, in sorrow turnes, 
 His helplese plaints ; and I mongst all must tremble, 
 To see myne owne bred brood with mee dissemble. 
 
 Where are these late past dayes? when Mars surviu'd ; The decay 
 
 And Nobles keept good houses, Servands liu'd, house l-ee- 
 
 Well horsd, well arm'd, well lou'd, well clothd, well fed, pi^^9- 
 
 And when my Lords with such lyke troupes were cled : 
 O ! there was plenty, and abundance too 
 Of eii'ry thing that Nature had to doe: 
 Then Lairds keept Courts, and eu'ry Lord at home 
 Liu'd lyke a Prince, or Cardinall of Rome ; 
 Yea, and contract'd no debt, morgagd no land, 
 But wore the cloth their wiues wrought with their hand, 
 
 And now where Kitchins ^moakd, good cheare hath beene, 
 There's cold and hunger, and bare walls now scene : 
 
 The
 
 ScoTLANDs Welcome to her Natiue Sonne, 
 
 The reason why? their sinnes procur'd Gods wrath, 
 And brought destruction on theniselues with death, 
 liow many ruind Towers, and wast fahie walls 
 Stand namelesse now, few know their stiles, and calls: 
 Heere stands Castle blood, and their Castle pryde ; 
 Yonder Castle oppression, and lust beside ; 
 Heere Castle Gluttonie ; there Castle Oathes ; 
 Heere Castle Falshood, Incest that neu'r loathes 
 Of Castle Perjurie ; and lower downe 
 Stands Desolation in a threed bare gowne : 
 And now, though most stand namelesse and vnknowne, 
 Yet by these Verdicts may their stiles bee showne : 
 All which, though Moderne, some I haue as fast, 
 Ryde post to Nothing, and can roaring wast. 
 The vani- Now Coatches, Cimtbotches, Lust, and Play, 
 j^''/ "" And vaine ApparelL rot their rents away : 
 
 In stead of serving Men, they now keep I.ads, 
 
 To fetch them brow-lac'd ivhoores, wrapt vp in Plads : 
 
 Els Boy-posting newes, to goe prepare 
 
 Roome ; for his Master, shortly will bee there : 
 
 Where, when abroad this gallant rydes alone, 
 
 With lack his Lacquey neare him, trotting on : 
 
 Either to Limho in the Brothell-house, 
 
 Els to the Taverne for a deep Carrouse : 
 
 Where straight to Cards and Dyce hee fly'th aniayiie, 
 
 And for advantage, leaues the house his gaine. 
 
 So, so, their sorces of Chaulders and their Bolles 
 Are brought from Mountaines downe to litle Moles : 
 They haue no dearlly fead, that's gone of late, 
 But they're at deadly fead with their owne state : 
 And care not for Allyes, bloody loiiies, nor friends, 
 Kinred nor bairnes, saue their owne waiting ends : 
 Whose Riggs speake English, and their idXtedifurres, 
 Forgetting Scots, can speek with gilded Spurres. 
 Lawyers. So Laivyers seaze on part, and right it stands 
 For lawlesse Lairds to haue Law-byrling Lands: 
 
 And
 
 the wavl 
 
 And Soveraigne LORD King Charles. 
 
 And would the Wrytters too, could find lyke flashes, 
 
 But now the Pen, on Paper seldonie dashes: 
 
 I'ts strange the Tongue, should gaine more than the Pen f 
 
 And pleading better payd, then paynefuU Men: 
 
 There's here, a Labyrinth, I'le not come in, 
 
 And for to bee obsequious, were a sin : 
 
 But here I vow, they're happ3' thryse and blest, 
 
 Who least frequents them, liues at home in rest : 
 
 Then Lairds, and Lawyers, Scriuners flock together. 
 
 They're blind that runne, a course they know not whether ;' 
 
 Ah ! what makes now, my Countrey looke so bare? 
 Thus voyd of planting, Woods and Forrests fay re : of plant- 
 
 Hedges, and Ditches, Parks, and closed grounds, '%• 
 
 Trees, Strips, and Shaws in many fertile bounds : 
 But onely that the Land-Lords, set their Land, 
 From yeare, to yearc, and so from hand to hand ; 
 They change and flit their Tennants as they please, 
 And will not giue them Leasse, Taks, Tymes, nor ease, 
 To prosper and to thryve ; for if they should. 
 As soone they thrust them, out of house and hould : 
 And hee who bids most farme, still gets the Roome, 
 Whilst one aboue anothers head do'th come : 
 Or els to rayse his rent, or kisse the Doore, 
 This is the cause, my Commons, liue so poore, 
 And so the Peasants, can not set nor plant 
 Woods, Trees, and Orchards, which my V alleyes want. 
 But leaue Mee halfe deformd, so they're distressd : 
 And by their greedy Masters, still oppressd : 
 
 Then now to succour this, the onely way, 
 Is, that their farmes were brought, to penny pay, 
 And leasses let at large, for yeares or lyves, 
 Failling the Husbands, to their liuing W^yves : 
 'J'o Heyers or Friends, and when the Tackes declyne, 
 To bee renewd againe ; paying their Fyne, 
 And yearely moneyes : then the Lord or Laird, 
 Hee needes not of a doubtfull yeere regard: 
 
 C So
 
 ScoTLANDs Welcome to her Natiue Sonne, 
 
 So England, and Ireland, all Europe's brought, 
 To leasse and penny-rent, but victuall nought, 
 Then might poore Tennants thryve, set, build, and plant, 
 And bee relieu'd with that, which now they want, 
 And till such tyme, this land can never bee, 
 Brought from the jawes, of willf'ull povertie. 
 As for my Tyihes, which nobles most recoyle, 
 The ■wrong- jj. jg another grieuance, to my Soyle, 
 
 fulL VS€ Of «/ */ / 
 
 Tythes. Should Tythes belond to Laicks ? should Church rent ? 
 Bee giv'n to temp'rall Lords ; by Gods intent, 
 Tythes were for Leuits ; not for Haulks nor Hounds ; 
 Nur no reward, of Sycophanting sounds. 
 Tythes may bee calld Gods rent, and they pertaine 
 Still to his Priests, his service to maintaine, 
 The very Turkes and Mahometan leyes, 
 Allot their Daruishes, religious feyes, 
 Yea, sauage Sabuncks, of Lybia, the odde, 
 As Tythes they dote, to serue their Garlick God : 
 Then how much more, should Trueth to meanes bee placd, 
 When brutish Ignorants, are so imbracd : 
 
 Nay more then Clergy^ Tythes should too sustaine, 
 My Seminary Schooles with yeerely grayne : 
 My Colledges decay, they haue no rent, 
 More then the Schollers bring, for boording meant : 
 Thus Learning goes to ruyne, Books grow skant, 
 Meanes they haue none, and maintenance they want, 
 There is no gayne, nor no preferment neither, 
 Now following learning, nor desert, but rather, 
 The greatest Dunsse, if rich, is soonest plac'd. 
 And rarest Schollers, lacking meanes defac'd. 
 Thus Airts grow Airtles, wit repyning wit. 
 When Asses must in Lyons Cabines sit. 
 
 Tythes too should build blest Hospitals, and doe 
 Erect Schooles, Bridges, and sustaine them too : 
 But where they should doe good, they doe most ill, 
 Being abus'd by vse, and corrupt will, 
 
 For
 
 And Soveraigne LORD, King Charles. 
 
 For (Sir,) take heed, what greef is this and crosse? 
 
 To my poore Commouns, and a yearely losse ; 
 
 That when their Comes are shorne, stoukd, dead, and dry, 
 
 They can not get them teinded ; Nay ; and why ? 
 
 Sume grudge or malice, moves despight to wound, 
 
 The hopefull Ilarust, and rot their Comes on ground, 
 
 This is no rare thing, on their Stmvks thats scene, 
 
 Snow-coverd Tops, below they're grass-growne greene, 
 
 Which often breeds great famyne, and great skant. 
 
 And plagues my Commouns, with a Heart-broke want. 
 
 For which they grieue, in this long deformation, 
 
 And hope to haue from Thee, a reformation : 
 
 Which CiOD may grunt, and blesse thy judgment too, 
 
 For to considder, what Oppressours doe. 
 
 So, so, reclayme them, deale them at thy pleasure, 
 For GOD and godlynesse and for thy Treasure, 
 Which being in thine hand, and then to farme 
 Them back on Lords ; will bread a double harme, 
 For worse, and worse, my Commouns shall bee crost, 
 And all thy good intentions, therein lost : 
 Then let my Tytlies, be brought to money rent. 
 For Ihee, from Land-Lord, and the poore Te7inent : 
 So may they sheare, and lead, and stakke their Come, 
 At Mid-night, Midday, afternoone, or Morne, 
 Which shall bee their advantage and my gayne. 
 When Barnes, and Yards, are fill'd with tymely grayne, 
 
 1 haue some Sycophants ly at thy Court, 
 Disturbers of my peace, and there resort, 
 Still hatching of mischiefe; projecting ends, 
 Which to my Countreyes mine onely tends : 
 And though they burrowd, Lyfe, Lands, Birth, and Blood, 
 Of Mee, they're still repaying ill for good ; 
 For having spent their meanes, so now their braynes, 
 They spend in forging of seditious straynes : 
 Still this, or that devysing, runne such courses, 
 That for their crosses, they're repayd, with curses. 
 
 C 2 Nay ;
 
 ScoTLANDS Welcome to her Natiue Sonne, 
 
 Naj ; I must call them, Bandits, Rehells bred, 
 
 And FiigitiueSy i'vom Jure Poena fled : 
 
 Then, then (dread Sir) take heed, such Snakes may sting, 
 
 And wound the judgment of a prudent King. 
 Valuation. As for this Valuation who can tell ? 
 
 Whats meant thereby ? or can my Preachers well. 
 
 With one out of each Parish ; lay the ground, 
 
 What euery Land is worth, or may be found : 
 
 No ; no, its labour lost, and I pray God, 
 
 Wee be not scourgd for it, by his just rod : 
 
 A lesser fault, then this made Israeli quake, 
 
 When David of his People count would make. 
 
 But value, stock, and brock, Tythes, fruites and all, 
 //,,. ,.,v.-.,' God must giue encrease, or the reckning fall. 
 fude of So Tymes vntvmely haue their tyme mispent, 
 
 J//W6. Q^ \i2i%Q Ingratitude, and bounty shent : 
 
 Whats worth, without wealth? merit without Loue ? 
 
 Birth without Vertue ? greatnes without love? 
 
 Bairnes without duetye, Parents, without care ? 
 
 Friends without Credit ? Towne without repayre ? 
 
 Lyfe without Learning ? Servants without paynes ? 
 
 Faith without good works? Comerce without gaynes? 
 
 Hope without repentance? Wit without Reason? 
 
 Greefe without Patience? Mirth out of season ? 
 
 Command without Pow'r ? Prince without People? 
 
 State without gouernment? Church without Steeple? 
 
 Preachers without rent? Poets but reward? 
 
 Rich Men without rueth? Honour but regard? 
 
 Judges without lustice? Agents but fees, 
 
 Clarks without decreets ? Laicyers without pleas ? 
 
 Tillage without soyle ? Trafficque without peace ? 
 
 Grace without godlynes? Sheep without fleece? 
 
 Pryde without puissance ? Loue vnles acquent ? 
 
 Wyves without Children? wealth without Content? 
 
 All which are toyles, lost labour, lost in vayne, 
 
 And drudging care, for profit without gayne. 
 
 Discordant
 
 And Soueraigne LORD, King Chakles. 
 
 Discordant things still contriire ends oppose, 
 The cause not the effect, wee should suppose : 
 So Fates agree ; so accidents and C^i/mes, 
 Conclude, this age, must see such woefull Ti/mes 
 
 So Grammer Schooles are ruynd, Learning rare, TJte decay 
 
 Boords are so deare, and Stipends waxe so bare; 
 That good house-houlders, Country men I spy. 
 Can hardly boord their Bairnes abroad, and why? 
 Broughs are so fingring ; Schoo^e- Masters so needy ; 
 Lore at such rate, and Victuallers so greedy ; 
 That now most Bairnes, with Sheep, and ploughs are found, 
 Which makes so many Ignorants abound. 
 With Kustick Caryage ; Manners harsh and rude, 
 And decent Comlj'nes, is quite seclude : 
 
 For what makes Nature, civill myld and meek ? 
 Kynd wyse, affable, gentle, slow to speek ? 
 But good education : well bred, well taught. 
 In Morall Precepts, and divynely fraught, 
 With learned Wisclome : whence discretion flowes, 
 And Vnderstanding too, for Learning growes, 
 To bee the light of Nature ; and I fynd. 
 Its the ornament, of a pregnant Mynd : 
 And though it were, but for to read, and wryte. 
 It is a needfull vse ; and yeelds delyte, 
 To euery good Conception ; giues direction. 
 To know aright, and so serues for correction. 
 And thus the Riither, which behauiour rules. 
 Though graft in Nature, is refynd by Schooles. 
 So would to GOD, in tyme a course were tane. 
 That Schooles, and Schoollers, were repayrd againe. 
 
 Another great abuse, is this that when, _ , „ 
 
 Men runne in Suretyship for other Men ; 
 Or els morgadgd in debt ; yet will not pay. 
 Their Creditors, nor thy just Lawes obey : 
 But scorning, horning. Caption Rebells turne; 
 And in despight of Pow'r, all where sojourne. 
 
 Arm'd
 
 ScoTLANDS Welcome to her Natiue Sonne, 
 
 Arm'd with Rebellion, Pistols, Sword and Dagger, 
 Threatning to kill, they roare it out, and swagger : 
 They boast their Creditours, and plague the Poore, 
 Even rambling through, best Townes, from doore to doore, 
 Whilst neither Shrieue, nor Justice will lay hould, 
 Vpon these Rehells : nay ; although they could. 
 They will not, why ? some one respect or other, 
 Dryve in delayes, whilst they thy Lawes downe smother. 
 And thus this Land, is oure runne and crosi, 
 With lawles Bankerouts and Justice lost 
 Some neuly broke, as civill Cheaters doe, 
 
 Banlr- Guard Barivick, and makes Harwich guard them too 
 
 routs. jj. gijij jjgjjpg Garrison, all Men may see 
 
 In stead o( Soiddiers, now fled Spendthrifts bee : 
 
 This border Towne, lyke to that seat of Borne, 
 
 From Sword and Spoyle, to cousenage is come ; 
 
 The one absolving sin : the other debt, 
 
 Though neither can nor could, such freedome get : 
 
 Nay ; 13arwick^ jumps with JRome, in more then this, 
 
 Slaughter, Adultry, Incest, whats amisse ? 
 
 In ciuill Law. or Church, it will protect them, 
 
 Thou Justice Vengeance, crying sins detect them, 
 
 Then who should curbe, this sheltring ? or restrayne it ? 
 
 The dis- Ymi thou sjainst whom, and thy lawes they maintaine it. 
 
 honest a- , ^ r ^ • 
 
 base of fu- Ihere s too ot late a new eciipsd miscaryage, 
 
 yitiue ma- Rut rather ane abuse, of honest marryage : 
 
 For now young persons, fauncyeing other loues, 
 Without consent of Parents thus it proues) 
 Or of their pastors approbation, neither 
 Of Towne nor Parish, niy, of Friend or Father ; 
 Away they goe to J^ngland ; there they're marryed. 
 And sometymes too, lyke Partyes turne miscaryed 
 Where layling of Church rites, this yoke they draw, 
 That lawles Loue, may be made loueles Law. 
 For if the English Freest, be not Palmestrat, 
 He will not marry, they turne Aiubodextrat : 
 
 How 
 
 riages.
 
 Jnd Soveraigne LORD^ King Charles. 
 
 How can like Nuptialls stand, and stand with reason, 
 .Although the preest conjoynes them : O ! what treason ? 
 Of fugitive deceat, is this to see. 
 When mine owne brood, from my kynd bowells flee, 
 From Parents loue, from lawful! Pastors pow'r, 
 For to be matchd by stealth : and would devoure, 
 1^'eligion into shame ; whilst thou base Preist, 
 Turnes back from being Preacher, to a Beast ; 
 What canst thou say, if such incestuous be? 
 Els vyld Adultrers, brand with infamie, 
 Or els betrothd to others ; at which time, 
 Perhaps lyable to some criminall cryme ; 
 And dares thou brand thy selfe, and marryage stayne. 
 For one poore peece of gold, for three, or twayne, 
 Nay ; as by vnlawfullnes, they come to it, 
 Euen as vnlawfull, art thou call'd, to doe it, 
 
 ! Prelats then, and Iudge<^ of this Land ! 
 
 Which both for Church, and State should justly stand, 
 
 Away with this, let such Nuptialls bee ! 
 
 Hel'd as injust, and punishd rigrously. Couceahl 
 
 Now for conceald Moneyes, I dare protest, moneys. 
 
 The searching of ihem, breeds a common Pest ; 
 The Purcifant, he goes abroad to summond, 
 Thome, Will, and Dick the heard scarce worth a Dunmond, 
 This Amhodextrat Villane, lie warnes All, 
 Before the Exchequer ; and if they fayle, 
 A penaltye ensues ; els fill his hand 
 Or goe for Kdinhurgh, where come they stand, 
 Waiting, and waiting to be try'd and heard, 
 The Messinger he coines not ; they're debard. 
 From audience and dismissd : and thus they're crost, 
 With paynes great charges, and their labour lost, 
 Then judge great ir, and yee my ludyes, judge, 
 If this and lyke, wracks not the Ploughing Drudge, 
 
 For Chamberlanes, BuiUyes and Lairds Court Clarkes, 
 
 1 see the Projects, of their subtile warks : 
 
 The
 
 Scotland's Welcome to her Natiue Sonne, 
 
 The first they fat themselues, by greed by stealth. 
 And out of ruyne, worke their Mynes of wealth, 
 Bringing most Lords to nought, els in such debt, 
 That they're not able, out of it to get : 
 The Baillie oft makes crooked the right causes, 
 Takes from both Factions brybes ; with fals forgd clauses 
 will haue deceat calld trueth , if not the Baillie, 
 Will make the Flaintives part, a double Fail lie : 
 The Clarks exact on all, they will haue feyes, 
 Payd and repayd for .iicts, although but leyes, 
 Then help these faults, yee Earles, Lords, and Knights, 
 And let Domestick Servants, rule your rights, 
 Yea serious, bee your selues to take a count, 
 Of all your dewtyes, as your Fathers wount : 
 So shall your States, and Rents, encrease and stand, 
 And poore Oppressd ones freed from Factors hand, 
 As tor my Kyne and Cattell, they're transported, 
 Hnqof"' And Sheep, with Gallowedian Nages consorted, 
 C'attell. 1 all the English quarters, heere and there, 
 Leaning my fields, halfe destitute, and bare. 
 Of their wont plenty and aboundance great, 
 Of all kind Bestiall ; that content could get. 
 But see this droving, and this caryeing out, ^ 
 
 Makes flesh both scarce and deare, all where about; 
 That now few houses great or small are kept, 
 As they were wont, being thus of Cattell stript : 
 And if it were not, for good store of fish, 
 There many mouths, would find an emptie Dish : 
 Then cause this (Sir) be helpd by straight restraint, 
 To quench the murmure, of a gen'rall plaint, 
 
 Now come I to my Comes my Wheat and Talloun 
 Myne Yarjie, Linning- Cloth, Gyle many a galloun ; 
 Salmon, Salt, Herrings, Killing, Sethes, and Colle, 
 With Skin, and Hyde, transported still to Polle : 
 Of which I grant there's some, might spared bee. 
 For mutuall Commerce, and Commoditie : 
 
 Transpor- 
 
 Bui
 
 And Soucraigne LOUD, Kino Charles, 
 
 But for my Wheat my Talloun and my Hyde, 
 Let them be fenss'd, witliin my selfe to byde, 
 That Leather growing cheap, Woemen may weare, 
 More fyner Shoes, for Leather now is deare, 
 And so is tawning, Tawners haue such crosses, 
 With taxd Gabelloes ; miserable losses, 
 I will not here insist, although I could, 
 Lay open this infliction, as I should, 
 But since the maner, makes the meane so plaino, 
 
 rie stryke no deeper, in a bleeding veyne. Transpor- 
 
 And should my Cornes be caryed to thy foes, ^i»y of 
 
 (JoV7l€S 
 
 For foure or fy ve Mens ends ; should gen'rall woes, 
 
 Be sowne abroad this Kingdome ; should Dearth, be rays'd? 
 
 When wee haue equall plenty, God bee prays d : 
 
 Fy, fy, on sinfull greed ! O shameles blot ! 
 
 That Merchands, would haue dearth, when GOD will not : 
 
 Nay they will pay before hand, rayse the pryce, 
 
 For which my Lords^ approue them in their vyce : 
 
 And why ? because they gayne ; but ah alas? 
 
 The Tennents left, into a woefull cace : 
 
 Thus Pollicie breads famine, and base greed, 
 
 Brings wealth to Churles, to my Commouns need, 
 
 Then [JRoyall Sir) prefer my Commounweale, 
 
 Aboue cursd Misers, never truely deale : 
 
 And for transporting Cornes, let Acts be made, 
 
 Hence forth they may at home, bee stopd, and stayd. 
 
 There other Towne-bred Merchands too, I know, 
 -tri • ^ -r, -, • -L \. DUemhlinq 
 
 Vnder a peeuish, Furitanick show, nuHtani- 
 
 Of yea, and nay, forsooth its so, and ban not, call merch- 
 
 Its good, the Pryce is small, cheaper I can not, 
 
 Would weigh a Mans purse, with his Lyfe and worse, 
 
 With fals Hipocrisie, themselves they curse . 
 
 When neither Conscience^ BeUgion^ nor Trueth, 
 
 They more respect, than Harlotes, do of Youth. 
 
 But serving Tymes, they serve their ends; and why? 
 
 For gayne they sell, and for to gayne they buy : 
 
 D By
 
 ScoTLANDs Welcome to her Naiiue Sonne, 
 
 By hook, and Crook, they care not ; for deceat. 
 Is all the Mistresse, of their vpstart State, 
 Fals weights, fals measures, falshood eu'ry way, 
 Abound ; and Cousenage, turnes Merchand pay, 
 He's now the wisest Man, that can deceaue, 
 His Nighbour, though he play the errand Knave, 
 Fastning their wit, on guyle they make their drift, 
 Trayne fraudlent craft, to court, each Catchpole shift, 
 Whilst neither Law, nor Reason, they regard, 
 Till death transport them, to their last reward. 
 
 TTiespoyle Now where are all my robust Gallants? where, 
 
 of iouth. ^fg jj^y Eellona-Threatners, doe, and dare? 
 Nay ; here's the very Quintissence, of trueth, 
 That Peace, and Idlenes, haue spoyld my Youth, 
 With Cards and Drunkennesse, lashivious Lust : 
 And all Prophanenes, swearing and distrust : 
 That now their I3odyes, are not half so strong, 
 As Nature lent them, to giue or free wrong: 
 And growne effeminat, weare Woemens loks, 
 Freize-hanging combd, o're Shoulders, Necks, and Cloks ; 
 That many doubt, if they bee Mayds^ or Men, 
 Till that their Beards sprout foorth, and then they ken : 
 And yet their shame, hangs still about their Heads^ 
 Whilst shaking Hayre, approue their foolish deeds, 
 Saint Paul forbids it, and hee tells them playne, 
 In doing which they're more, then shameles vayne ; 
 And Absaloms Lyfe, hayre-hung, betwene two Trees, 
 Might be a Cauiat, for such vanities : 
 For Manly exercise, is shreudly gone, 
 Foot-ball and Wrestling, throwing of the Stone : 
 lumping and breathing, practises of Strength, 
 Which taught them to endure, hard things at length. 
 And now Tobacco, that base stinking weed, 
 
 Tlie abuse That Indian witchcraft, smoaking in their head ; 
 
 of Tobacco. Turnes Virile Acts^ and delicat discourse, 
 To Pot, and Pypes, reciprocall recourse : 
 
 Nay
 
 ScoTLANDS Welcome to her Natiue Sonne, 
 
 Nay ; they're so bent, though when its spent to flashes, 
 
 They'le smoake it out, even Asses, sucking Ashes, 
 
 It was a danm'd devyce, a fatall curse, 
 
 To honesty, and health, and to the Purse, 
 
 It spoyles their Memory^ and blinds their sight, 
 
 Dryes vp the moisture of the carnall Wight : 
 
 It smarts the brayne, and stupifiy'th the Wit, 
 
 Benumbes the sense, and here's the plague of it ; 
 
 Most brauest Mynds, turnes, Coxcombs, Fooles and Sots. 
 
 And now more slayne thereby, then my best Scots, 
 
 For in a word, it is a drunken feast, 
 Depraving Man of senses, turnes bim beast; 
 Some Students too, deserue to haue a dash, 
 For they can let it flee, smoake, flame, and flash, 
 And meanewhile wring out from Inventions brayne, 
 Some curious Sermon, in a whissing strayne, 
 And so can Nobles, Gentry, Ploughmen too, 
 Each glory to doe that, which others doe. 
 
 Some take it for the fashion, some for Rheum e. 
 Some for the Tooth-ach, others for the fleume : 
 Some for the Head-ake, some for Melancholy. 
 Some for to sharp their wits, and banish folly : 
 Some for their Pallet, in their warbling throt, 
 Some for good fellowship, to Pype and pot : 
 Some to quench Anger, some to put off tyme. 
 And some excessively, make vse a cryme, 
 Some Rodomuntoes, take it roaring downe, 
 And then rebelch it, lyke a spewing Cloume : 
 Some eate and chaw it, letting downe the juice. 
 And others steep it, for an open Sluce : 
 Some snuff, and sneize it, and convert in dust, 
 This greene Negotian leaf, in blak spent lust. 
 Some hungerbit, or Stomack-sick at least, 
 Convert Tobacco, in Duke Vmphraes feast : 
 Casting Barmudoes, in Virginian blocks. 
 They lock Verinaes in, with Venting Knocks, 
 
 D 2 And
 
 ScoTLANDS Welcome to her Natiue Sonne, 
 
 And some when drunk, to make them sober niynded, 
 
 Till both their sense, and sobernes grow blinded : * 
 Then here's the slaurye, of this slabby sin, 
 
 Another I'ype, another Pot, brings in : 
 
 The one bene spent, the other not they call, 
 
 For each of either, as their turnes may fall. 
 
 Whose Strombolizing Nosethrills, JEtna faces, 
 
 Makes halting Vulcan^ change his Lemnian places, 
 
 To build his Forge, on foule Cymherian veynes, 
 
 Dying in blak, their Bowells, Guts, and braynes, 
 
 Whilst apprehension, makes their fond conceal, 
 
 To wast their bodyes, and exhaust their State. 
 Some Ladyes too, haue head-akes in their Toes 
 
 And for remeed, takes Phisick at their Nose : 
 
 Some suck it stinkingly, and with distast, 
 
 And yet forsooth, they take it to Hue chast, 
 
 Mixt with Perfumes^ and Oyles, sweet Seeds, and snuff, 
 
 They swallow downe, in gluts this Pagane stuff, 
 
 "Wresting another tast, then Nature can, 
 
 Lyke to their paynted Cheekt, deceauing Man ; 
 
 Some for the Chollick ; some for belly-ake. 
 
 And some do loue amayne, the Pype to take. 
 
 That now most female, Ladyes of each sort : 
 
 Doe make of Pypes, and Vapour but a sport. 
 
 Yet I confesse, its far more kyndlyer too. 
 
 For Woemen to suck Pypes, then men to do : 
 
 The one is Naturall, though oft abusd, 
 
 The other in neither, to bee excusd : 
 
 And last of all. Tobacco, I defyne, 
 
 To be the Tuba Bachi, God, of wyne, 
 
 Inviting Drunkards, clustring every where ? 
 
 To swagger, sweare, debosh, and revell care. 
 Against And I could wish, that Edinburgh would mend I 
 
 tJie 7cea- 'j'l^ig shameles custome, which none can commend : 
 ^PlaiZ. Should Woemen walke lyke Sprits ? should Woemen weare. 
 
 Their Winding-sheets alyue ? wrapt vp I sweare. 
 
 From
 
 And Soveraigne LORD, King Charles. 
 
 From head to foote in Plads : lyke Zcmbrian Ghostes, 
 
 Which haunt in Groaues, and Shades ; lyke Fayry Hostes, 
 
 Or winter wandring Wreaths : Base masked Whoores. 
 
 liuskd lyke Callahrian Witches ; Shin-climgd Moores ; 
 
 With fyre-scorching Tayles ; JEthereall Wights, 
 
 Or Nightly Eremies, that nev'r delights ; 
 
 But lyke cursd Fiends in darknes ; being the trick, 
 
 Of Turkish Courtezans, and to bee quick, 
 
 Of Mercenary Harlots ; Now base lads, 
 
 Must Candle-light bee vievvd ; O ! sin-worne Plads, 
 
 With Drunkcnnes, and Whoredome : who can avow ? 
 
 This beastly Habit ; Toivne^ I speeke to you. 
 
 Looke to your Streets, at night see how they flock ? 
 Lyke buriall-busked Eedlers ; and provoke, 
 Good goers by to gaze, yea, often stand. 
 Till they invest them, with a Shouldring hand : 
 Where is their punishment? where is good order? 
 Where civill comelynes ? O to what border? 
 Is honesty now fled ; When thus 1 see, 
 That richest, Wyues, with Harlots masked bee : 
 For in a word there's none, twixt both can judge, 
 In show, the Matrone, from the commoun Drudge : 
 Then as the Hangman, had late pow're to mend it. 
 The Gallows or the Borrough-Loch must end it. 
 
 My Land is so surcharged, with cursing evil], y/,^ abuse 
 
 Diuell take the lears, the whole-ware still the Diuell ; ofhanning 
 
 , -r\ II ■ -i < tt curstng. 
 
 Fiend a bit, Fiend take you, the Diuell, an mch ! 
 
 Diuell take them, Soule and Body ; there's a pinch : 
 
 How Diuell doe you? the Diuell to you that speeres, 
 
 And some curse Heaven, and Hell, and by them sweare 
 
 Some cursing make, conditionall diversion, 
 
 Diuell take 31ee, God saue all ; ? there's reversion ? 
 
 That even the Chyld, the first word it can mumble, 
 
 Is Diuell, Diuell, Diuell, so Babes begin to stumble, 
 
 And why? cause Parents ban ; the Servands tongue, 
 
 Spew curses forth corrupting, old and young, 
 
 b 3 But
 
 Witches. 
 
 u4nd Soveraigne LORD, King Charles. 
 
 But ah ! poore Wretches ! what a curse of euill ? 
 Is this at ev'ry word, to name the Diuell : 
 This, this, and lyke, makes now this lie abound, 
 With Hellish Snakes, for Diuells allwbere are found : 
 There's nether Russia Lituan, or Leif Land, 
 Norway, North Swaine, my North lies, nor Lapland, 
 Can yeeld moe Witches, Warlocks, Charmers too, 
 Then my Mayne Lands, even at this present do : 
 And though that some be brunt, there hundreths moe, 
 1 hope ere long, shall through the fyre goe. 
 For tyme and tryall, earnest care may make. 
 The diuell to vanish, and his servants quake: 
 Then leaue your banning, and your cursing words; 
 For Yea, and Nay ; the happyest speach affords. 
 Agoinsi ^ut now belyke the Colles, this happy yeare, 
 
 Coles and By burning Witches, are growne wondrous deare. 
 And so they are, but sure the Flemings make it, 
 Although the Commouns, conmiounly mistake it : 
 But if my Colles to imposts, ones were put, 
 They soone would stay, the Hollanders were shut : 
 Yet Colles and Witches haue a nearer vnion, 
 First here by vse, then hence by dark communion : 
 Some Colles are fund, in Earths profoundest Cell, 
 Which Colliers hould adjacent neare to Hell : 
 And will not let, blynd Limbus ly betwetie, 
 For Colliers haue in darknes, Lynx bred eyne : 
 Where sometymes they, with Stygian streames are crost, 
 Throwne downe to Lethe, in oblivion lost : 
 Whence Colles, bene Nyghbours next, to Plutoes Pit, 
 Are sent as Messingers, from gaping it : 
 To hurle downe below, with posting fyre, 
 These damn'd Gehennists, to their endles hyre : 
 1 bus Hell and Witches, Diuells, and Warloks bee, 
 Linkd in with Colles, in hot affinitie : 
 Which GOD may grant ! long may their vnion stand, 
 Till Witchcraft quyte, be rooted from this Land, 
 
 For
 
 ScoTLANDS Welcome to her Natiue Sonne, 
 
 For cheating Brockers, and cursd Vsrers they, 
 In eu'ry Tovvne, and Corner, beare great swey : 
 They're Money-Mongers, and they know tymes, slaurye 
 When need brings Vertue, halting to their knavery : 
 The Brocker, must haue Pawnes, and double Pawnd ; 
 And cares not for no caution, writ, nor Hand. 
 But quarterly, monthly, by week or day, 
 Must haue the Gahelle, of his cheating pay : 
 Els fayling of the Tyme, off goes the Pawne, 
 And thus is povertie, in bondage drawne. 
 
 The Vsrer will take suretye, Bonds, and Bills, 
 Or els Morgadgement, at disposers wills : 
 For fyftene a hundreth, yea, sometymes twenty. 
 And fills his Coffers, with such ill wonne Plenty : 
 Yea, lets it all runne on, till day and date. 
 Be long expyrd ; and to rayse his State, 
 Out flies horning, Caption, fensing Commands, 
 Imprisonment ; or els comprysing Lands. 
 Whilst the distressd Dehter, rests pinchd, or slayne, 
 Vnder the crueltye, of this Tigers gayne : 
 
 ! miserable wealth ! O 1 wretched greed I 
 
 That eats the very bowells, out of need : 
 
 But for to mend this, whilst they're plaguing fangrl. 
 
 The Brocker should be scourged, the Vsrer hangd. 
 There's to a needfull Cauiat, I'le set forth, 
 
 For eu'ry Noble Lord, and Man of worth. 
 
 For Bishops, Preachers, euery towne, and place, 
 
 Where vagabounding Greeks, vse now to trace ; 
 
 Deluding and deceauing you, with leyes. 
 
 And Testimonials fals ; base forgeryes. 
 
 Of blynd inveiglings ; making you beleeue. 
 
 They must their wives, their Bairnes, or friends releiue ; 
 
 From slauerye, and from thraldome ; by Turks there tane, 
 
 Either in Greece, in Asia, lies, or Mayrie 
 
 Whom they would haue redeemd ; from bondage brought. 
 
 And Ransomes payd, for what dissembling wrought. 
 
 Against 
 Brockers. 
 
 Against 
 Vsarers. 
 
 Concerning 
 vagabond- 
 ing Greeks. 
 
 But
 
 ScoTLANDs Welcome to her Natiue Sonne, 
 
 Tlie fiatry 
 of Hoslill- 
 eries. 
 
 The scarci- 
 ty of small 
 Moneyes. 
 
 But I assure Thee, as GOD liues in Heauen, 
 There's no such matter ; nether are they driuen, 
 To any such distresse ; my reason's here, 
 The Greeks, vnder the Turke, borne eu'ry where ; 
 Haue freedome peace, and safety ; Hue as free, 
 As any Subjects heere, can, or may bee : 
 For now the Turke, being Lord, and they too sworne, 
 How can he thrall them, they his Subjects borne : 
 Nay ; neither Tythes of Children, Female Dote, 
 They pay more now, for Achmet, rent that lot ; 
 Yet when they payd them both, their lyues and Lands. 
 Were then as free, as ours are in our hands. 
 
 And far les for Religion, can they bee, 
 Exyld or thrald, or els where, forcd to flee : 
 Whilst there's libertie of Conscience giuen, 
 To Greeks and all kynd Christianes vnder Heaven, 
 Through all his large Dominions : want nought els, 
 Saue onely this, the vse of ringing Bells : 
 Nay I vow God ; they Hue more free of cares, 
 Vnder their Lords, then Myne do vnder theirs : 
 Then be no more deceau'd ; recall tymes past ! 
 How Greeks, haue guild you, goulding them so fast, 
 But if you will bee fooles, when knaves thus passes? 
 Yee merit what they make you, Dolts and Asses. 
 
 My Hastes, and Hostesses, in every house, 
 Can make their Guests so welcome they'le carrouse : 
 With merryment and laughter ; tell a Tale, 
 Of Hobiti Hood, and Wallace ; make their Ale, 
 Flee out of Pynts in Quarts : but being come, 
 To whats to pay ? the Hostesse beats the Drumme ! 
 Vp, vp. Good-man ; away ; there's one in haist ! 
 Must speeke with you, Come? fy, he's almost past. 
 The Hoste thus gone, the honest Guest must stay, 
 And for Thome Tratler, all the reckning pay. 
 
 So now, my Coyning-house, doth idle stand. 
 And there no Pictures, stampd with Irne nor hand: 
 
 There
 
 ^nd Soveraignc LORD, King Charles. 
 
 There are no moneyes going, nor golden collours, 
 Saue Dutch and Holland, Saxone, Austrian doUours : 
 Now all are Dollars ; Dollars ought can doe, 
 And when they want them, they haue DoUours too : 
 For but them, with them, Bailors frequent be, 
 Dollors in want, and Dollers when they flee : 
 But worst, ther's no small money can bee had, 
 Nor change for gold or silver ; Men are made 
 Often for lack of change, to leaue, or losse 
 Whole, iialf, or part, of their twyse Dollourd drosse : 
 Men can not buy nor sell ; Men can not barter ; 
 And Hostlaries smart too in eu'ry quarter. 
 
 So Charity is curbd ; Men can not giue 
 Their Almes, that would faine the poore relieue : 
 Then (Sir) there's Copper, Copper too is cheap, 
 Grieue not thy government, nor Moneyes keep, 
 Of so small valew, from thy Commouns hand, 
 Which still breeds wealth, and Commerce in my Land : 
 In this both Spaine, and Italy are blest. 
 With France and Germany, and Holland best ; 
 Where most part of their moneys are in bi'asse, 
 And freely too from hand to hand do passe : 
 Then (Sir) cause coyne, Plaks, Achcsons, and Turners ; 
 Ought will suffice to stop the mouths of Mourners. 
 
 Now eu'ry office beares the name of Lord, The abuses 
 
 And honour much injurd by wrong record : ^^^ aivase 
 
 First then, for Lords of Session, none should be sly intitula- 
 
 Call'd Lords for no respect, of what degree ; ^^^ Lords. 
 
 Saue onely two, Lord Chauncelor for his place, 
 And the Lord President ; the rest I trace 
 But worshipfull and reverend, they're no more. 
 All Europe with the lyke, the lyke decore ; 
 And next ray Shrieue, by heritage, or yeare, 
 Must be call'd Lordship, els he will not heare : 
 Then there's Lord Provost plac'd in eu'ry towne, 
 And lack made Lord was yesterday a clowne ; 
 
 E Yea
 
 ScoTLANDS Welcome to her Natiue Sonne, 
 
 Yea, some-where there's Lord Baillie, and men must 
 
 Vpon his vSheep-drawne shaddow Lordship thrust : 
 
 So Deanes of Gild are Lords ; B urges boords ! 
 
 Whilst Towne and Church Treasurers too are Lords ; 
 
 And yet their Lordships in a commoun talc, 
 
 Can mixe their graue discourse with Pynts of Ale. 
 
 Some Kirks and Colledges afford I see 
 
 Lord Rector, Lord Archdeane, Lord how do yee ? 
 
 So also is Lord Lyon grauely Lorded, 
 
 Who more for worth than stile, is here recorded : 
 
 Next, there Lord Doctor of the shyting Potion, 
 
 Who for some recipe, (not for devotion) 
 
 Must be palmestrat, with red imag'd Ore, 
 
 For which his Lordship thanks the good grandgore. 
 
 In comes Lord Commisser, and he protests 
 For Clyetits and decreets, whilst yet, there rests 
 Some fatali Testments, which he must recall, 
 To be confirmed, then thanks death for all : 
 Then there's Lord Constable with his Nights Crue ; 
 Of frozen Bussards, that will call on you. 
 Come to the Lord Constable, come, or go 
 To prison ; speek, what say you? yea ; or no ; 
 The Passenger, before his greatnesse come, 
 One single quart will stryke his Lordsheep dombe. 
 
 And last, to Lord them all, there are Trone Lords, 
 Which beare sad Burdens, bund with rops and cords, 
 That sometimes serue the Hangman, Scaffolds make 
 For execution, and for justice sake : 
 All which are Lords ; of diverse ranks each Creature, 
 Even from the judges to the scume of Nature : 
 But if that any Kingdome can afford. 
 In all the world, the like name of a Lord ; 
 I'le be content to pawne my Pilgrimes lyfe. 
 For he best knowes how to decyde such stryfe : 
 Yet anagram me Lordes, O now take heed ! 
 And yee shall find my Lords turne drols indeed: 
 
 And
 
 And Soueraigne LORD King Charles. 
 
 And so most are, (both Colledges exceptd) 
 And true Lord Barons, falsly interceptd 
 By Russian Fopperyes ; which corruption brings, 
 On Noble stiles, not given them o^ Kitigs ; 
 Which if it be not help'd, whats more ado ? 
 But stile my Pilgrime, Lord Traveller too. 
 
 As for my Castles, and my Marine Ports, Theruyne 
 
 The first decay, the other, they want forts : of Castles 
 
 Would Leith, Inchkeith, and May, were sconsd and block'd, p^^.^^ 
 As for Dunbertane it is strongly rock'd : 
 But more by Nature, than by Airt I see, 
 Whose mouldring walls brought low, defective be : 
 Which if thine eyes surveigh, Thou'll cause amend it. 
 And for its situat strength (doubtles) commend it : 
 Blaknes that Dungeon must be still kept dry, 
 Least with the levell ground it swaking ly : 
 Yet stately Snadoun, Strivelings Castelld beauty, 
 It still reserues for Thee a thankfuU duety : 
 Yea ; if when need, a fort of great Defence, 
 Whence linking Forth, Meatider-crook'd, runnes thence. 
 
 As for thy Pallace, Lithgovv, Fawlkland too, 
 And Haly rude-house, Mansions, when ado ; 
 Though now well kept, I feare long absence may, 
 Turne thine Auncestors Stations to decay : 
 And no great wonder, how can they abide ? 
 When Thou and Thine shall els where still resyde : 
 For Edinhurghs fortresse it stoutely stands, 
 High-tip'toe rockd, o'relooking Sea and Lands : 
 Where lames the lust, of blest renowne, thy Sgre, 
 Was borne, and got the Crowne of this Empyre. 
 
 Would Soundbroughhead, in Zetland were intrenchd, 
 And Skalloivay, neare Laxford too reflanchd ; 
 And that Orcadian Kirkwall, eke rampierd. 
 With Cafasound, that harbour much admir'd : 
 Then would these lies, Septentrion safer bee. 
 When made defensiue gainst the Hostile Sea : 
 
 E 2 But
 
 ScoTLANDS Welcome to her Natiue Sonne, 
 
 But for most other parts, few can offend them, 
 Sea-sandy Shelfs, and Craggy Coasts defend them : 
 As for my westerne lies, they need no hould ; 
 Each Ilander himselfe is Bulwark bould : 
 Yet (Sir) looke to it, least my Forts decay, 
 And these thy Mansions fall, and rot away. 
 Now come I to Land-passages, and see, 
 I find defects, would God could helped bee : 
 Where are these Bridges, over Rivers plac'd ? 
 Which sometymes haue my Body maynely grac'd 
 Nay ; they're ruind, els vtterly decay'd 
 W'^hose vntectd Arches, spoil'd, are quite deray'd ; 
 Most waters now haue neither Bridge nor Boat, 
 Which makes so many sink, or helplesse float. 
 
 The defect What should I speake of Berths outragious Tay ? 
 
 of Bridges. That shortly twyse hath tane her Bridge away : 
 
 But wayle the losse, that Towne receav'd thereby ; 
 And for remeed to Thee, my Soiiraigne cry ! 
 O Gracious Sir I cause build that Bridge againe, 
 And flank each Columne with hornd Arches twaine : 
 The stones were long and larger than before, 
 The Arches wyder, doubling on each Shoare : 
 Which made more high and wyde, the strugling flood, 
 May calmely vent, and not proue half so rude : 
 For which, good work, the Countrey being easd. 
 Thou shalt be praisd, and God therein well pleasd. 
 There many other Rivers, Brookes, and Strands, 
 Streames, Rills, and Torrents, march-divyding Lands : 
 Would faine be bridg'd, made passable and plank'd. 
 Men might find way, and Benefactors thank'd : 
 But where's the Earle, Baron, Laird, or Knight t 
 Will prove so charitable, though he might : 
 Nay ; there's no Commoun-ivealth, nor commoun works. 
 Most of them building Nests for Chimney Storks : 
 But to speake trueth, in times past, and of late, 
 When Friers and Cloisters had their swaggring state : 
 
 Tiiese
 
 And Soveraigne LORD, King Charles. 
 
 These good and beneficial deeds abounded, 
 Which now by vs are ruind, rent, and wounded : 
 And yet my Nobles, brooke these Tythes and rents, 
 Supply'd this charge, wliich many one repents : 
 For them, what good they doe therewith, its knowne, 
 They sat themsehies, then leaue it to their owne. 
 
 Then to helpe this, cause eu'ry Land-Lord, lo ! 
 1 hrough whose just bounds, thy Market Streets do goe ; 
 To builil, sustaine, repayre, whats in decay, 
 And over lets, to make free passage way. 
 But if this task may seeme to great for one, 
 Then let the Shyre helpe him where its done : 
 And as the work to modifie the meane, 
 Wherein the vulgars formost still are scene : 
 So shall this Nation blesse Thee, praise them too. 
 When Landed Men this Christian good shall do, 
 
 Now for my losses, by the Hostile Sea, Incurmry 
 
 These long fiue yeares, in numbers many be : ^T** ^ 
 
 The Divelish Dunkirker ransacks my Ships, 
 And with the scourge of Pryde my fortune whips. 
 Along the shivring tops of rouzing billowes, 
 Menassing Mars and Neptune ; all he swallowes 
 Within the throat o? Hatred ; and he fills 
 Their Flandrian Ports with Masts as high as Hills : 
 My Men are captiues, and their goods are lost 
 To them and theirs ; thy foe of too free cost, 
 Enjoyeth all, and then, at randon lets 
 Mens lines and freedome ; if he ransome gets : 
 And jy even as they please on yErmouths coast 
 Or Humber mouth, where all my ships are lost : 
 Where then my Cursars ? Where thy Men of war ? 
 Nay, when they see them, hover off a far ; 
 And basely suffer thine Enemies to prey, 
 Vpon thy subjects, making no supply: 
 If this be right, or if warres be intended ? 
 I wish a better course, els they were ended. 
 
 E 3 Besides
 
 ScoTLANDS Welcome to her Native Sonne, 
 
 The misery Besides these Sea-bred griefs ; ah ! now I see, 
 of War. Through spatious Europe a deformitie : 
 
 What strange combustions, tumults, and vproares ? 
 
 Are here and there, alwhere the Sword it goares : 
 
 O wretched Tyme ! most barbarous and rude, 
 
 To see the Christian World, drunk dead with blood ; 
 
 And not one Kingdome left without cursd jarres, 
 
 So vniversall are these woefull warres : 
 
 Kings against Kings, Nation against Nation, 
 
 Perfites the Prophecy of Desolation : 
 
 The like deludge, reciprocating stryfe, 
 
 Was not, since last, Rome lost her Tribune lyfe : 
 
 woefull warre I which lessens wealth and strength, 
 And brings the ruynes of ruine at length : 
 It doth dishonour Honour, and degrad 
 The mighty Man from what his greatnesse had : 
 Even like the rage of the impetuous flood, 
 Debording from his banks, ieaues slyme and mood. 
 To choke the fertile plaines, supplants the rootes 
 Of Hearbs and Trees, defaceth quite the fruits 
 Of grapes and grayne ; and often breaks the walls 
 Of strongest Townes, whereon destruction falls. 
 
 Even so the fury of the bloody Warre ! 
 In breking downe the bonds of Peace, debarre 
 The links of Loue and Alliance, quite defaceth 
 The libertie of Nature, and disgraceth 
 The ornaments of Tyme, and cuts the throat 
 Of Martiall Darlings ; then casts vp the lot 
 Of desolation, which destroyeth all. 
 Which can to meane, or mighty Men befall : 
 What though to lyfe, we all but one way came ; 
 Yet diverse wayes we go out of the same : 
 So fatall Sword decrees Deaths worst and best ; 
 Mans Epilogue to be, nunc mortuus est. 
 Then heere's the Catastrophe ! warfare brings, 
 For Preter losse the present thought of things. 
 
 As
 
 And Soveraigne LORD, King Charles. 
 
 As Christendome may curse that Counte of Tome, 
 The day that he was got, bred, breathd, or borne : 
 For diverse causes in Matthias tyme, 
 Which ah of late I turn'd to a vulgar cryme. 
 So may a lesser World, a greater curse 
 Impose on some, whose ruind drifts were worse : 
 But tush, let Fortune wag, the Balls runne on ; 
 The Wheele in pieces chatter, all is One : 
 There is a day, when Tyme shall bring to dust. 
 There falshood and false honours most injust : 
 Let Caperculian, Musick Nigromancers, 
 French Jidling play es, and blind dissembling Dauncers, 
 Enveigle heavie Ti/mes, and runne the Snout 
 Of trecherie vpou a sakeles rout : 
 There is a Maskerat, will ones discover 
 The length twixt Reize and Calz, from Calz to Dover. 
 
 Take heed of Sinons teares, take heed of this 
 False-smyling Clepho, with a ludas kisse : 
 Mongst sweetest flowres the link-layd Serpents ly, 
 And lurking sting, the harmelese goers by : 
 So vnder fairest words, the falsest heart 
 Doth pry, and dyue, to work some grievous smart : 
 For it is incident to Courteours still, 
 To speak one way and haue another will : 
 But much more in the Minion, who pretends 
 A Sou'raigne Mateship for his trechrous ends : 
 Which, though his greatnesse springs not from true merit, 
 But from the pow'r of louc, which Kings inherit : 
 Yet often, and too often, ah ! I find, 
 That Kingly favours, breed a false, false mynd : 
 And seldome eu'r escapes without retort, 
 So doubtful are the dangers of a Court. 
 
 So present tymes, may for example trade The tre- 
 
 On Duke de Lerma, whom Don Phillip made MhieoL 
 
 His Mineon, and his Oracle, his guide ; 
 The King being simple, meek, and mollify'd : 
 
 This
 
 ScOTLANDS Welcome to her Natiue Sonne, 
 
 This meane-borne gentle -man, now made a Prince, 
 
 Did swallow vp ambition ; and from thence, 
 
 The Dregs of Avarice, dishonest greed, 
 
 And from his Prince bee stole, not having need ; 
 
 In nyne yeares tyme, full eight Millions of gould, 
 
 Whilst Phillips Loue was dearer bought, than sould : 
 
 At last detect'd, and all his knaveries knowne, 
 
 His Spanish Motto in these words were showne : 
 
 El mayor Jadron del Mondo ; Para non morir aorcado, 
 
 Vestiose de collorado, &c. and englishd thus, 
 
 The greatest Theefe, the oldest Knaue 
 
 That Hell, the Divell, or Spane could haue ; 
 
 To shunne the Gallowes, hee with speedy 
 
 Did cloth himselfe in collour red. 
 
 For he turnd Cardinall, and gaue the Pope, 
 
 Two hundreth thousand Crownes lo flee the rope : 
 
 So had this Duke his Mineon, eke a Don, 
 
 Made Marques too, call'd Roderick Calderon ; 
 
 Who following Lermaes footsteps, wax'd so bould, 
 
 That he stole too four Millions of pure gould : 
 
 Which being discouerd for his fellonie, 
 
 This courtly Theefe hee vvas condemn'd to dye : 
 
 The lyke and like againe I could produce. 
 
 But this may serue for to shut vp the sluce. 
 Admoniti- O I if that Kings 1 as they are Kings would look, 
 onsfor ^j^(j ^g^(j ]yijg records of as blak a book : 
 Kings. , , i i 
 
 Sure they would see great errours they commit. 
 
 In giving trust to any Parasit ; 
 But thou blest King, thou art not cary'd so, 
 Thou canst di-cerne thy friend from secret foe : 
 And will not be the same that thou do'st seenie. 
 How fond soever vulgare censures deeme : 
 
 Yet in times past, the like erronious errours, 
 Haue bred to Kings and Kingdomes, helples terrours : 
 Who from himselfe bequeaths himselfe, and State. 
 (And in his crowne would haue a rivall Mate) 
 
 Vnto
 
 And Soueraiyne LORD^ King Charles. 
 
 Vnto anothers gouernment, and will ; 
 
 God knovves some Puppi/, voyd of wit and skill 
 
 He is but half a Man, and not his owne, 
 
 Yea sonietynies scarce, the half that I haue showne, 
 
 For he thats led, anl ruld by others pleasure, 
 
 In judgement, nor in justice, keeps no measure. 
 
 As KINGS are absolute, so, should they be, 
 As absolute, in sound dexteritie. 
 Saue in great matters, than to be advysd. 
 By Counsells graue, or they be interprysd : 
 If not and so, that one, must needs rule all, 
 Be't Lyf, or Honour, Liberty, or thrall : 
 Looke to the events, doubtfully confusd. 
 Whilst or the Bird be hatchd the Egge is bruisd : 
 What Dauid sayd of lyke ? Tie praysing tell. 
 He begd of GOD, to send them quick to Hell : 
 
 So KINGS haue perishd, and their Kingdomes falne 
 In cruell bondage, and their People thralne : 
 Lyke made young Osman, loose his Princely Lyfe, 
 Which filld his Kingdomes^ with intestine stryf. 
 So the last Hungar King, was crossd and sackt, 
 And by his Mimo?i, fould, ruynd, and wrackt. 
 But why ? should I, examplify, so much, 
 Since thou hast deep experience of such : 
 Yet he is happy, makes anothers fall, 
 A warning to prevent vntymely thrall. 
 
 Ah ! and thryse ah I so Germany is layd, 
 Vnder the Spanyards foote ; and Austria made, ^f^Ger 
 
 'I he head of that Empyre : greef beyond sorrow, many. 
 
 To see proud Tirants, from ten Princes burrow : 
 Such helples loanes ;"that neither sword nor might, 
 Nor Law nor Reason, can recall their right. 
 ! that one blow I one Tyme ! ! angry fates ! 
 Should ruyne both Religion there, and States : 
 Cursd be the spight of that vntymely doome. 
 Which Spaine divyseth, and confirmd by Rome : 
 
 F Spaine 
 
 The ridne
 
 ScoTLANDS Welcome to her Natiue Sonne, 
 
 Spaine seekes dominion, and the Popes impart, 
 Them power to swallow all, so they haue part : 
 And Thee, and thy three Kingdomes too, they would, 
 Cast in the fornace, of a Spanish Mould. 
 The Span- Yet Tyme may lash, the force of thy prowd foe, 
 yards in- And make ambition, subject to lyke woe : 
 qreed of Who seeks Kings ruine, and would domineere 
 dominion. O're all the Vniverse, yea, and vpreare, 
 
 The base record, of Vandals Gothes, and Hunnes^ 
 Of whome they're come Men, Daughters., Wyues, and Sonties, 
 Whose greed most Indian Soyles, can not contayne. 
 Nor large Americk the old, and new narad Spaine : 
 The Sea- coast Affrick Townes ; Atlantick lies ; 
 Nor Ballearen, nor Sardinian Styles : 
 The fat Sicilian playnes, got by the blood, 
 Of murtherd Gaules, can not his pryde includ, 
 Nor the Apidian, Callabrian Lands, and more, 
 The Seate o^ Naples., the Lavoreen Shoare : 
 The Millane Dutchy, nor Pavian bounds ; 
 The racked Belgia, nor the high Burgounds ; 
 The Pyrhenian Navarre, the Voltelyne ; 
 Can not this Monsters Monarchy, confyne : 
 For if he could, he would, himselfe invest, 
 From Pole, to Pole, and so from East to West : 
 Yet doubtles Tyme, his pryde and greed shall dash, 
 And raze his might, for so can fortune lash. 
 Thou mayst recall herein, that cruell payne. 
 LHhfjows And bloody Tortures, Lithgovv had in Spaine, 
 a'uell tor- Which for CHRISTS sake, his Countrey and thy Syre 
 turs inflict- He patiently endur'd, 0! thou mayst admyre : 
 'himtn ^^^^ constancy for Trueth, and for that Treason, 
 Malaga. Injustly layd on him, beyond all reason : 
 Being in tyme of Peace, and no suspect, 
 Of breach ; but what they falsly did detect : 
 And hauing too, thy Fathers Scales, and Hand, 
 For to protect him, to the ^thiope Land: 
 
 Whose
 
 And Soueraigne LORD^ Kino Charles. 
 
 Whose lyfe, the English factors seeing surgrieud, 
 
 By meanes of Noble Aston him relieud : 
 
 What Tongue ? what Pen ? what Mynd can well expresse ? 
 
 Or heart conceaue ? his Torments mercyles : 
 
 Nay ; none but thy late Father, rightly weighd, 
 
 And Parliament ; how they his Peace inveighd : 
 
 For which (deare royall lAMES,) had full regard, 
 
 His Suffrings, and his Trauells, to reward ; 
 
 Yea, graciously maintaynd him, tooke delight, 
 
 To heare his rare discourse, of forraine sight : 
 
 Then {Sir) make fals, this Proverbe, turne his debter. 
 
 There seldome, comes (Men say) a Father better. 
 
 Say though hee had not for thy Crowne, bene crost, 
 Rackd, bruisd, disjoynted, and his Fortunes lost : 
 With all these moneyes, thy Syre did him gift, 
 And Thow Thy self, for to advance his drift : 
 Witii Papers, Observations, Patents, Scales, 
 Which now are lost, and lost for aye, he feeles : 
 Yet doe his Trauells merit, his rare adventers : 
 His wandring long, beyond the Earths full Centers : 
 His curious drifts, slighting wretched gaines : 
 His much-admyrd attempts I his matchles paines, 
 His Fame hee wonne thereby, to Mee and iVIyne, 
 Leauing my stamp, on Earths remotest Sfiryne : 
 And where I was not knowne, did annalize, 
 My Name in records, of true Sacrifice : 
 
 Yea did acquaint Mee, with each kynd of thing. 
 That pregnant Knowledge, could contentment bring ; 
 Strengths, Townes, Castles, Cittadales and Forts, 
 Distance of places, Regions, lies, and Ports, 
 Their maners, too, and living, rites, and Lawes, 
 Customes and gouernment, Religious Sawes : 
 Of Turke, and leiv, Arabian, Greek, and Moore, 
 Sabunck, and Coptic, the Egyptian glore : 
 The Cypriot, Tartyr, Greet, and Turcoman, 
 The grosse Armenian, Sun-burnt Affrican ; 
 
 E 2 The
 
 ScoTLANDS Welcome to her Natiue Sonne, 
 
 The Abasine and whyte Moore ; the Nestorian, 
 
 The Chelfane, lacobin, Syriack Georgian ; 
 
 The Amaronite^ Lybian^ and Nigroe black, 
 
 IJesydes all Europe, in a word to take : 
 
 All these and reasons, many hundreds raoe, 
 
 Deserve that {Sir) thou shouldst appease his woe. 
 For he's the first, of Trauells, ever wrot, 
 
 Since my all-Virgine Wombe, first bred a Scot : 
 
 The Prince o? Pilgrimes, Father of them all, 
 
 And greatest Traueller, Earths circling Ball, 
 
 Can Europs eye afFoord : happy Man ! 
 
 Whose mynd feasts, on rare sights ; which none els c 
 
 There Thousand Thousands, eu'ry where complayne. 
 
 That thy just bounty, should him not sustayne, 
 
 But hath imposd vpon him, a sore greef, 
 
 To make my Bowells, yeeld him now releef : 
 
 Where ah I there's nought, but povertie and pryde. 
 
 And misregard to Merit, so wele try'd : 
 
 / could be more Pathetick, in his greef, 
 
 But that were too indulgent, Fie be breef, 
 
 Then [Sir) For my request, thy Soyle, thy Nation, 
 
 Help LiTHGOvvs want, relieue his desolation. 
 
 Then shall thy bounty praise Thee, place thine Heart, 
 
 On merits Glory, gracious to desert. 
 Decayed To speek of ruind Churches, vntectd, vnwalld, 
 
 Churches. \^q^i vnprovyded, stipend-vnenstalld, 
 
 Into my Ijorders, lies, and High-land parts. 
 
 Which deep experience, to my sight imparts. 
 
 It would too tedious be, and prolixe proue ; 
 
 So I'le desist, the helpe ly'th in thy Loue ; 
 
 Which euer yet, thou zealously exprest, 
 
 For GODS true Glory, in thy lyfe profest, 
 
 But true it is, the Lairds which owe the ground. 
 
 Are causes why, they thus abusd are found. 
 
 But more than this, there Preachers, that are placd, 
 
 Within mv Maine, and orderly imbracd 
 
 Yet
 
 ^nd Soveraigne LORD^ King Charles. 
 
 Yet can not get their stipends, and Church rent, 
 
 Without contestion, and great discontent. 
 
 The Parish Laird, or Lord, objects some clause, 
 
 Against the Pastors, Ministerial! cause, 
 
 Els thus in robbing, of his yearely fee. 
 
 To force him both, from Church and Parish flee : 
 
 This done for law they goe, to plead it out, 
 Till slyding yeares, and months, runne thryse about, 
 Which now makes Edinburgh, each Session bee, 
 So full of Preachers, swarming as I see : 
 Whilst ah, their flocks at home, are evill taught, 
 And Gods blest Sabhoth, too prophanely fraught, 
 With drunken Vyce, and lewd laschivious sin, 
 Which without Doctrine, soone comes creeping in : 
 Thus many Preists are plagud ; and vnrelieu'd, 
 The people perish, honest hearts are grieud, 
 The Lairds triumph, in their ambitious hate, 
 And care not for GODS worship, nor Mans state, 
 Which if it be not helpd, O grieuous crosse I 
 I feare Beligion, shall haue the losse. 
 
 So with this grieuance, I bequeath the rest, 
 To be reformd by Thee, and soone redrest : 
 Then weigh them right, into thy judgment just, 
 That these confusions may be brought to dust : 
 So shall this Land be happy, Hue in rest, 
 By thy good Gouernment ; when Trueth thryse blest, 
 Shall Crowne thy lustice ; and when Vyce shall be, 
 And errours grosse, repayrd in equitie. 
 
 The Parliament done, now I must commend, 
 Some Nobles to thy Loue, and so Tie end : 
 Make much of Hamilton, my Princely Peeve ; 
 Thy choysest Subject, and thy Causing Deare. 
 Whose Syre, whose Grandsyre, whose Pedegree, 
 For faithfull service, to thy crowne and Mee ; 
 Deserve the Mausolaeon Tomhe ; Cariaes wonder. 
 To blaze thereon, their fame ; and for to thunder. 
 
 F 3 
 
 Ministers 
 wronged by 
 their Pa- 
 7'ish Lairch. 
 
 A recom- 
 inendation 
 of all the 
 Protestant 
 Nobles to 
 his Maie- 
 stie. 
 
 To
 
 ScoTLANDS Welcome to her Natiue Sonne, 
 
 The house 
 of Mar. 
 
 Montrose. 
 
 Munteith. 
 
 To Tymes succeeding ; in mem'rie of worth, 
 
 Their Noble actions : set so lyvely forth : 
 
 To each declyning Age : That even his part, 
 
 Their former Lyves, stamps in his hopeful! Heart : 
 
 Whose greatnes is my Mirrour, and whose Hght, 
 
 lUuminats my Westerne bounds by right : 
 
 Whence gratefull Clyde, redounds from chearefull banks, 
 
 To that Illustrious Youth, ten thousand thanks. 
 
 To pen, and praise to Thee, that house of Mar, 
 In Mee were odious ; since thou knowst how far ; 
 It do'th surpasse most others : for that Lord, 
 Deserues my Chronicle, for to record, 
 His Providence, and Wisdome ; whilst his deeds. 
 Do trample vpon Vertue ; whence succeeds : 
 So many Sonnes and Daughters : O ! rare birth ! 
 Whome GOD may long blesse, and preserue on Earth : 
 That as their Syre, in his matchles fame, 
 So they them selues, may still retayne the same ; 
 Whilst Glory, vpon Glory, shall redowne, 
 To Them and Theirs, an euer-fixd renowne : 
 
 As for that hopefull Youth, the young Lord Grahame, 
 lames Earle o^ Montrose ; whose war-lyke Name, 
 Sprung from redoubted worth, made Manhood try, 
 Their matchles deeds, in vnmatchd Chiualry : 
 I doe bequeath him, to thy gracious Loue, 
 Whose Noble Stocke, did euer faithfuU prove : 
 To thyne old-agd Auncestors ; and my bounds, 
 Were often freed, from thraklome, by their wounds : 
 Leauing their roote, the stamp of fidele trueth, 
 To be inherent, in this noble Youth : 
 
 Whose Hearts, whose Hands, whose Swords, whose Deeds, whose 
 Made Mars {ox valour, cannonize the Grahame. (Fame 
 
 Wherein Muntieth, that auncient Earle may, 
 Plead for his part, whose right retaines it aye. 
 In One, and the same 8tocli, being branchd, and graft, 
 Bv discent in it, and whose Lawrell shaft : 
 
 Of
 
 And Soveraigne LORD, King Charles. 
 
 Of Honour aymes it, for his worth may clayme ; 
 The Caledonean Mantle, in the Grahame. 
 
 To rouze the trueth, which still must passage find, 
 Of worthy Rothus, and his leajned Mynd ; 
 / doe admyre him, for his gifts most rare, 
 Which few can paralell, nor yet compare ; 
 With him for auncient Blood, nor present worth. 
 Which pregnant deeds, and Learned parts set forth. 
 
 Now plead I for the Earle Home, and see, 
 That Martiall Name, did much for Thyne, and Mee : 
 They were my Bulwark, in the easterne Border, 
 And keept my Nyghbour foes, in awfull order : 
 For Home, deryvd of Homo, is a Man, 
 And Merse, o^ Mars, so Home, and Merse, I scan : 
 Whose auncient services, and moderne Loue, 
 Deserve of Thee great thanks, rewards of love : 
 AVho by just merit, weare the Sanguine Rose, 
 Of ail these Confynes, which my Lists, enclose. 
 So paynt I foorth, with pensile-drawing hand. 
 That noble Mirrour, Marshall of my land : 
 
 There's Noble Cassells too, and gallant Mortoun, 
 Deserue, as they enjoy, Auspicuous Fortune, 
 With Murray, Ainzie, Sutherland, and Lome, 
 Lithgow, Eglintoun, Wigton, and Kingorne : 
 Buchcleuch, and Buchan, Hadington, Glencarne ; 
 Roxbrough, Galloway, Sea- Forth, Tillibarne ! 
 Cathnes, Dumfermling, Kellie, Lawderdale ; 
 Perth, Louthian too ; Craicfurd, and Annandale, 
 And last, though first, so first, and last now looke, 
 Vpon thy blood and kinsman, Lennox Duke. 
 
 All which are Peeres, by true Religion Crovvnd, 
 And Honour to, thy faithfull friends renownd. 
 Though here I place most, not as order growes. 
 But from my kyndnes, as affection flowes, 
 Let Heraulds rank them, its enough for Mee, 
 To show their Names, and keepe true Poesie 
 
 Rothouse. 
 
 The Earle 
 Home. 
 
 The Earls 
 in generall. 
 
 As
 
 ScoTLANDs Welcome to her Natiue Sonne, 
 
 As for Lord Barons^ Lyndesay and CathCart, 
 Lord Ba- Boyd, Rosse, and Yester, Forbus, pious Heart : 
 rows. Lord Viscont Dupline, Chauncelor of my State, 
 
 With Marcheston, as good, as now ipade great : 
 
 Sinclair, and Saltoun ; Lowdon, in the West, 
 
 With Elphingston, and Burley, I protest : 
 
 Bortkwick, and Dalyiell, Oglebie, and Skune, 
 
 Cowper, and Bamsay, Eruntilland, Lord Doune : 
 
 Lovit, Halyrudehouse, Cranston, Blantyre, 
 
 Kinclevin, Balmarinoch, Lindores, Kintyre : 
 
 Madertie, Torphichen, and Viscont Aire ; 
 
 Carnagy, Drumlanerh, Weems, and Traquaire : 
 
 Desfurd, and ledbrugh, Colvin : And how far, 
 
 May I, even with "the best, bring Lochinvar : 
 
 With Luce, and Waghton, lohnson, too and Keire, 
 
 Who know'th but they may Lords be the next yeare ? 
 
 Drum and Glennorchy too, I well may rank, 
 
 In way of Honour, sitting at their flank. 
 
 All these bee thyne, thy Darlings, and the knot, 
 
 Which tye my freedome, to each worthy Scot ; 
 
 Being religious Lords, and wele reformd. 
 
 From Superstition, and to trueth conformd : 
 
 And if some be not so, (dissemblers then) 
 
 They're scoffing Atheists irreligious Men : 
 
 For if the inward, with the outward show 
 Agree not; then they're Hipocrits I know, 
 
 But each and all of them, doe make profession, 
 
 Of CHRISTS reformed Church, by cleare confession. 
 
 The Con- ^^ ^'^^ "^y ^^P^^^ Lords, its hard to say, 
 
 dition of Whether the Pojye, or Thee, they best obey, 
 L^^rd' ^^^ Mee, 1 will not count them, or make doubt. 
 
 But they may soone be tould, being here left out, 
 But this I may avouch, though they're enclynd. 
 In show to Thee ; Rome keeps their heart and mynd : 
 Contayning more, seven Hills within her walles, 
 And why, not too, their silly Hearts and Saules : 
 
 For
 
 ^nd Soveraigne LORD, King Charles. 
 
 For there are holes and Caues, and ruind Pits, 
 And Vineyards too, to which my Papist fiits: 
 Yea ; stinking Pudles, o^ .Sodomitick lyues, 
 Where best the Boy with the Cardinall thryues. 
 
 Yea ; and this Pope Vrhan, ones my Protector, 
 To Masculine mis'rye was Architector : 
 Witnesse Bullogne, Ravenna, Ferrare Torine, 
 Ancona too, plac'd by, the Adrian Marine, 
 What then Romes Legal, that's now Pope committed? 
 It were an odious thing to be omitted : 
 For when my Youths, he then surnamd my head 
 Came to him, seeking succour : O ! then with speed ! 
 If that the face was good, he soone calld in, 
 And gaue them Crownes, with blak Gomorrahaes sin 
 Witnesse Jack Ogelbie, thou canst report, 
 What way this Pope, thy screeking Bomb did court ? 
 For which this Lat^beene grieu'd, in very spight. 
 He stole nyne hundreth Crownes, and took the flight, 
 From this same Pope, then Card'nall Barbarino ; 
 And came to Venice, crossd the Alps to Rhino. 
 
 I could tell tyme and place, and how he vsd 
 This Youth with many moe, whom he abusd : 
 But now Divell fetch him, what should I reveale ? 
 He lou'd my Lads posteriour parts too wele : 
 In Rome and Italy was never scene, 
 A greater Sodomit than he hath beene : 
 He was my Scots Protector, and infectd them. 
 With beastly filthinesse, so he protectd them. 
 
 Then heere's their Pope, his Holinesse indeed ; 
 CHHISTS Viccar, S'. Peters heyre, their Churches head ! 
 O ! Monster against Nature ! O Desolation ! 
 O filthy Wretch ! vyld abomination / 
 Downe stinking Sow, downe Beast to Plufoes Cell, 
 Instead of Heaven, keepe there the Ports of Hell. 
 
 Now Priest haue with thee, for a single bout, Against 
 
 For well could I (if tyme seru'd) paynt thee out: [mdh^^ 
 
 G What's Masse.
 
 ScoTLANDs Welcome to her Natiue Sonne, 
 
 What's now thy Masse ? (come tell me) nay its such ; 
 
 A foolish fopprie, that ! dare avouch, 
 
 It is the sink of Sinne, the nest of errour ; 
 
 The gulfe of Superstition ; and the Mirrour 
 
 Of blinded Ignorance ; whose mumbling mood ; 
 
 Even in the action is not vnderstood. 
 
 And there's the Masse, Idolatrie compieets ! 
 The Priest, his owne Creator frames and eats : 
 But more thy Blasphemy ; O subtile foxe ! 
 That dares to lock thy God within a Booce ; 
 To be consum'd with Mothes, and wormish gnats, 
 Yea; worne with Tyme, and eaten vp with Rats : 
 As for thy Miracles, and penny -pardons, 
 Thy purging Pit, Indulgences, and Guerdons : 
 I know what thou confessd, thou touldst mee plaine, 
 They were but forged leyes, for getting gayne : 
 I could at length show hundreths of like errours : 
 Whose w^orks, and wayes, of Hell, are meerest Mirrours. 
 O what delusions ? and what Divelish drifts ? 
 Of cursd suggestions, in the jugling shifts ; 
 Of false Opinion, intricat their braines 
 With blind diversion ; and with halting straynes. 
 Of bould Presumption ; thus dare cast the Mould, 
 Of their incestuous lust ; for now behould ! 
 They trust in their owne labours, and degresse 
 From Gods true worship, in their mumbling Masse, 
 
 The igno- l^ut for my Noble Brood, and crew of Papists, 
 
 ranee of They Hue more by opinion, as do Atheists, 
 Than any sound construction ; for tradition 
 Is all they looke for in their superstition : 
 Yet when my Church threats excomunication, 
 As soone they find some wrested dispensation, 
 Or els forbearance : why ? Because they're Earles, 
 And court Thy Court, to beg Thy favour Charles : 
 Let this be help'd, for both to hould, and hunt, 
 Is more than ever sound Religion wont. 
 
 And
 
 And Soueraigne LORD, Kino Charles. 
 
 And call to minde what David he would do. 
 First clenge his house, and then his Kingdome too ; 
 Say, if the Spring be sowre, how can the streame 
 Be sweet ; or how can light from darknesse gleame ? 
 For great Ones they are Presidents, and may 
 Bring good or bad into a commoun swey : 
 So People by example, more than Loue, 
 Are brought to follow what Supcriours moue. 
 
 1 if I might, as Pastors ought and should 
 Gods judgements show, and not for flattry hould ; 
 
 1 soone would show the cause why Gods offended, 
 And plagues vs so in all our drifts intended. 
 
 But now allace ! Mens earthly mynded favour, 
 Can wound their zeale, and blind their sight for savour : 
 Yet of all Preachers, which my bounds contayne, 
 There's onely Ramsay of Drumfreis takes payne ; 
 To curb, and to convert, or els bring vnder 
 These stinging Wasps of ignorance the wonder ; 
 For he is placd in midst of the worst fry, 
 Of all these Locitsts, which Gods word deny. 
 
 But true it is, these Idole-servers may, Lack of 
 
 Laugh at our coldnesse in good works this day : 
 There is no Charity, nor true intent. 
 By the disposers of it, done, or meant ; 
 As ringing Bells cite others to the Church, 
 But they themselues neu'r enter at the Porch : 
 So many Cymballs sound through diverse throates, 
 And rayse their voyces contrare to their notes : 
 Whilst all their Tunes in such distracted mirth, 
 Are clog'd with clay, heart-grown vnto the Earth : 
 Which LiTHGovvs surveigh of my bounds, I know. 
 More amply shall in plainer tearmes show : 
 There's heere a mystery, which few can tell, 
 Vnles Theology the passage spell. 
 
 Yet aboue all, let Priests, and Papists be, 
 Forc'd to convert, or banish'd quite from Mee : 
 
 G 2 And
 
 ScoTLANDs Welcome to her Natiue Sonne, 
 
 And show them no more ruth, then they show Myne, 
 In Upaine^ and Rome,, who strictly punish Thyne : 
 For it stands good, that lyke, for lyke againe, 
 Should be inflicted, lyke punishment, lyke paine. 
 
 Sir Willi- Now touch I Menstrie, fraught with crimson flames, 
 
 am Alex- O^ Acedalian fyre ; whom /?y»iew frames, 
 
 Teietary'^ The Muses Darling ; whilst Appollo vowes, 
 
 of Scotland. To sit betwene the Temples of his browes ; 
 
 And there knit Garlands, twist with Delphian bayes, 
 To crowne his sacred strayne, with divyne prayse : 
 Whence hee proclaymes him. Prince, oi Poets all. 
 That ever Albion bred, or could enstall : 
 
 But what I most admyre, and must commend. 
 Are these his rare adventures, he do'th send : 
 Hence t' Americk ; whence Cannada confynes, 
 His new layd limits : Reason too combynes, 
 A constant resolution, there to plant. 
 My Nona Scotia ; where nothing can want. 
 For grounds both fat, and fertile ; their curling plaines, 
 Are cled with Woods ; there wealth to Countrey Swaines, 
 May copiously aryse : Their Rye and Wheat, 
 With Comes and grayne, might soone be brought compleet : 
 There Pastorage excells, their fish abound. 
 There flying Foule, and speedy Cerfs are found : 
 The Soyle a Climat cleare, the Seasons fayre. 
 Where fragrant fruits surpasse, Hearbs grow most rare. 
 
 To which if that my Nobles, would but lend, 
 Their helping hands, and their provision send, 
 Of Folks and Bestiall, Seed, and euery thing, 
 what encrease should this Plantation bring ! 
 In doing which, they should enlarge my Name, 
 Making my bowells, famous in their fame : 
 And to which end, I vow, my Pilgrime would 
 Adventure too, provyding he had gould. 
 
 There Christ shall be professd, the Gospell preachd. 
 And savage Bruites borne there, Salvation teachd : 
 
 From
 
 ScoUandt) 
 recommen- 
 
 And Soveraigne LORD, King Charles. 
 
 From which braue Mcnstrie, in his matchles merit, 
 
 Shall prayse on Earth, reward from Heaven inherit : 
 
 Then Alexander, let that Province be, 
 
 Call'd Alexandria, from this name of Thee ; 
 
 That after Ages may the same record, 
 
 Thou was the first Plantator there, and Lord ; 
 
 Which simpathizeth well with that great King, 
 
 The Macedonian Conqurour, who did bring 
 
 The easterne World in bonds, made Ganges be, 
 
 The Frontier o^ h\s fortmies ; leaving Thee, 
 
 This Patrimoniall place, the westmost Mayne ; 
 
 For to renew his memorie againe : 
 
 So Menstrie, Thou, with Asiaes great Commander, 
 
 Shall twise succeed, a second Alexander. 
 
 Last plead I for my selfe, now my request, 
 Most Itoyall Sir, flowes from a prostrat brest ; 
 Even from the Torrid Zone of myne aftection ; dation to 
 
 I beg Thy deepest Loue, and deare Protection : J^^ 
 
 I'hat twixt Thy Heart and Soule, two Tropicks great, 
 I vnder-plac'd, may find Thy radiant heat : 
 Whose tender Care, whose Deeds, whose Zeale Divyne, 
 May be Heavens Equinox to Mee, and Mine : 
 That from Thy Beames, I frozen, may recoile, 
 As hot a flame, as Parcheth, ^Ethiops Soile : 
 So shall these Circles, Hemi-spheares o^ Loue, 
 And these fix'd Planets, which no storm can moue ; 
 Be my sole Zodiack, and the Horizon, 
 For to perfite, and crowne my glistring Zone ; 
 That Thou my Worlds great eye, and thy designes. 
 May happy be, through Heavens Celestiall signes : 
 So shall my Faith, and duety, be the Polles, 
 Whereon the Axle-Tree, of thy Scepter rolles : 
 Whence let these rayes Antartick, thy best glory 
 Reflexe on Mee, thine Artick Soile, growne hoary. 
 
 And though my Saturne Cape salutes the Utarre, 
 Which guides most Pilots, yet who can debarre ? 
 
 G 3 Mine
 
 ScoTLANDS Welcome to her Natiue Sonne, 
 
 Scotlands 
 sorrow for 
 his Mate- 
 sties quick 
 retume. 
 
 Mine lies, and mayne dimensious bounds to yeeld 
 Thee, Marlialists, the best on earth for field : 
 I am thine eldest Daughter, and my Birth ; 
 Thy nearest Subjects living vpon Earth. 
 
 But why plead I so much ? Why paint I forth ? 
 My Sonnes in their illuminary worth : 
 Since thou art posting back to Isis banks, 
 And leaues me naked, onely cled with thanks. 
 
 Now must I spinne my long spunne web, and knit 
 Penelope, within the length of it : 
 Whilst Memphis groanes, to see sad Sparta mourne, 
 Twixt two arryvalls, and a quick retume : 
 Ah ! well I see the Sunne, when at the hight, 
 Must soone declyne to bring on darksome night : 
 And are ray joyes fled, my Darling gone. 
 Like to the shaddow of some wandring One ; 
 I, I, thy stay to Mee, and Thy goodnight, 
 Seem'd but the glauncing of a Faulcons flight; 
 Which makes my Bowells roare, my griefe resounds it, 
 There's none can heale my sore, but Thow who wounds it. 
 
 That shearing Sword, which sharply stroke the Heart, 
 Of bleeding Loue, when jEneas did depart ; 
 Neu'r rent kynd Dido with a deeper wound. 
 Than thy departure makes my soul to stound ; 
 Even like Palmeno, paunting on his Bed, 
 Still wishing Death, or els his ayme to wed. 
 
 But more kind Turtle set, O Heart-growne-griefe ! 
 To groane, till Heavens soone send my playnts reliefe, 
 I see ebbe foords, though shallow, bellowing roare. 
 Whilst deepest streames, in silence court the Shoare ; 
 So mighty Cares grow mute, when slender woes 
 Find choisest tearmes, slight sorrowes to disclose : 
 As deepest Loue is ever safest kept. 
 So is pale griefe more sadly closd, than weept : 
 What then, though woes get words, I'le deeply mourne 
 With sighs, salt teares, and sobs, till Thi/ returne. 
 
 Tlie
 
 And Soveraigne LORD, King Charles. 
 
 The wasting Winter of the Sommers gayne, 
 Neu'r wishd the Spring, the Spring, the Harust againe ; 
 With more celeritie, than I implore 
 Thy presence, were as oft renew'd, and more. 
 
 Lyke to the Day-worne Pilgrime. shut from Hght ; 
 Closd with dark Coverts of the clowdie night, 
 Longs for the Aurore of the sequell Morne, 
 To see the face-blushd Ihetis Sonne, new borne : 
 
 So I wrapt vp, within the gloomy shade 
 Of sad oblivion, am a Mourner made ; 
 Till thy returne, (like to Nocturnall dew,) 
 Resume, refresh this flame, that burnes for you : 
 Which soone I wish might be reveiu'd and seene, 
 Cled with like glory, as Thotv now hast beene : 
 Which if it were reciprocall, O well I 
 My (Comforts could aboue my griefe excell : 
 Yet since Thine absence must my Patience proue ; 
 I'le cease to mourne, but never cease to loue. 
 
 Then in a word, (though thousands ly in store) 
 I'le end, and this on my low knees implore ; 
 Yea Heavens which shaddow, and protect just Kings, 
 With Might and Mercy ; deoperculat wings, 
 Of Light and Glory, still saue, and defend 
 Mine happie Monarch, both in Lyfe, and end, 
 With present Blessings, future Hopes in Iove, 
 Peace heere on Earth, and hence eternall Love. 
 
 FINIS.
 
 
 THE GUSHING 
 
 ^T E A E E S 
 
 OF GODLY 
 
 S O R E O W. 
 
 Containing, 
 The Causes, Conditions, and 
 
 Remedies of Sinne, 
 
 Depending mainly upon Contrition 
 and Confession. 
 
 And they seconded, with Sacred and 
 Comfortable passages, under the mour- 
 ning Cannopie of Teares, 
 and Repentance, 
 
 Matth. 5. 4. 
 Blessed are they that mourne, for they shall be comforted. 
 
 PsAL. 126. 5. 
 They that sow in teares, shall reape in joy. 
 
 By William Lithgovv. 
 
 EDINBURGH, 
 
 Printed by Robert Br y son, 
 
 Anno D o m. 1640. 
 At the expences of the Authour. 
 
 tm^ 
 
 
 
 <f 9 9 9 ^ 
 
 mfmfffM
 
 ^
 
 TO THE 
 
 TEYLY NOBLE 
 
 MAGNANIMOYS 
 
 AND 
 
 ILLUSTRIOUS LORD, 
 
 I A M E S, 
 
 EARLE OF MONTROSE, 
 
 Lord Grahame, Baron of 
 M u R D o c K, & c. 
 
 Illustrious L ORD, 
 
 F grateful! diietie, may be re- 
 puted the childe of reason, 
 then (doubtlesse) my choisest 
 wishes, and best Affection, 
 must here fall prostrate before your auspi- 
 cuous and friendlie face, fast chayned, in 
 the fetters of obedience. Flatterie and In- 
 
 A 2 gratitude
 
 Epistle Dedicatorie. 
 
 gratitude I disdayne as hell : And to court 
 your Lo : with elegant phrases, were indeed 
 as much as who would light a Candle, to 
 light the Sunne : Your Noble and Heroicke 
 Vertues light this Kingdome, and who can 
 give them light : For, as the Aurore, of your 
 honoured reputation, is become that Con- 
 stantinopolitan Hyppodroine, to this our 
 Northrene and virgine A Ihion / so lyke wise, 
 the same singularitie of worth, hath raised 
 your auspicuous selfe, to be the monumentall 
 glorie of your famous, and valiant Predeces- 
 sours, justly tearmed, The Sword Of Scot- 
 land : Your morning of their Summers day 
 hath fullie enlarged, the sacred Trophees of 
 their matchlesse memorie ; best befitting the 
 generositie of your magnanimous minde. 
 That as the Grahame, from long antiquitie, 
 being the most ancient surname, of this 
 unconquerd Nation ; so they, your old aged 
 Ancestors, have left a lineall construction of 
 their Valour and Worthinesse, to bee in- 
 herent
 
 Epistle Dedicatorie. 
 
 herent in your most hopefull personage, 
 which God may long continue to you, your 
 Race, and your Posteritie. My humble 
 request, pleads the continuance of your 
 favour, that as your late renowned Grand- 
 father and Father, were unto mee both 
 friendlie and favourable (proceeding from 
 their great goodnesse, not my deserts ;) 
 so expect I the same from your tender 
 bountie, which hitherto beyond my merit, 
 hath beene exceeding kyndlie manifested. 
 For the which, my prayse and prayers, the 
 two sisters of myne Oblation, rest solidlie 
 ingenochiated at the feete of your con- 
 spicuous Clemencie. This present worke 
 in its secret Infancie, was both seene and 
 perused by your Lo : but now enlarged, 
 polished, and published : I have done my 
 best, though not my uttermost : The dis- 
 course it selfe, runneth most on the causes, 
 conditions, and remedies of sin, and they 
 sharply linked in generalls and particulars : 
 
 A3 The
 
 Epistle Dedicatorie. 
 
 The whole substance of my labours, sealing 
 vp the happinesse of a sinners conversion 
 to God, under the mourning Cannopie, of 
 Teares, and Rejpeiitance. The lynes are 
 plaine, yet pithie ; and although the sub- 
 ject may carrie no loftie nor Poeticke style ; 
 yet the manner, the matter, the Man, and 
 his Muse, are all, and only yours, and I left 
 theirs, onlie to serve you, and your noble 
 disposition. Accept therefore my good 
 Lord, both the gift, and givers minde, with 
 the same alacritie, as I offer them in Love 
 and humilitie ; which being shelterd under 
 your pious and prudent Patronage, shall 
 enforce mee to remaine, as I vow ever to 
 be, whilst I have being, 
 
 Yoiir Honours most obsequious 
 and most observant Oratour, 
 
 William IjIThgovv.
 
 
 The Prologue to the Reader. 
 
 Hou mayst -peruse this worke, loith kynde respect^ 
 
 Cause ; none my good intention can controule ; 
 
 The style may (not the subject) beare defect, 
 
 Some Painter ivill the fayrest face drawefoule : 
 
 Excuse myne age, iffaultie, blame my quill, 
 
 Defects may fall, and notfayle in goodwill. 
 
 My Muse declynes, downe slyde her loftie straynes 
 
 And hoarie grotves, succumbing to the dust ; 
 
 Old wrung inventions, from industrious paynes 
 
 Draio to the grave, luhere death must feede his lust : 
 Flesh fly e in ashes, bones returne to clay, 
 Whence I begunne, there must my substance stay. 
 
 Goe thou laborious pen, and challenge tyme. 
 
 For memorie, to all succeeding ages ; 
 
 In thy past ivorkes, and high heroicke ryme. 
 
 And pregnant prose, in tliryce three thousand pages : 
 Yet dye thou must, and Tyme shall weare thee out, 
 Ere seaven tymes seaven, ivorne ages goe about. 
 
 But Vertue claymes her place, and prostrate I 
 
 31ust yeelde due honour, to her noble name : 
 
 Shee taught mee to take paynes, its done, and why f 
 
 To make her famous, in her flying fame : 
 A Sculler, may transport, a royall Queene, 
 As well as Oares, and both their safeties scene. 
 
 Trust mee, my paynes, contend, for to bee playne 
 No style Poeticke, may this subject clayme : 
 Touch but Vermilion, you shall see a stayne, 
 No fiction, may averre, a sacred Theame : 
 
 No7-
 
 The Prologue to the Reader. 
 
 ^& 
 
 Nor dare Panthoas, Cynthias Tierhall Jloivre 
 Be seene, nor spread, till rolling Phoebus loivre. 
 
 Then read, misconster not, hut wisely looke 
 
 If I divinely, keep a divine stile : 
 
 Which done, thou mayst, take pleasure in this booke, 
 
 An Infant, from devotion, bred the luhile : 
 Like treatise I, before neere ivrote ; excuse 
 This new borne birth, from mine old aged Muse, 
 
 See ! here in generals, thou mayst observe 
 
 The cause of sinne, sinnes remedy, salt teares ; 
 
 Where sharpe particulars, for repentance serve 
 
 To blazon wickednesse, and wicked feares : 
 What here is done, to thee, to me, to all. 
 May be apply' d, as each one findes his fall. 
 
 Yet who can stop, base Critick tongues to carpe. 
 
 For A theists shall, and Epicures repine ; 
 
 So scoffing fooles, on strings of scorne ivill harpe 
 
 To see this myte, a 'part of myne engyne : 
 But silly Gnats, ivorse bred then Berdoan beasts, 
 I slight their spight, my Muse in ^ion feasts. 
 
 Would thou contend with me, who best should write 
 
 On choice of Theames, select' d bettveen us twaine, 
 
 I could abide thy censure, take delite 
 
 In thy defects, to censure thee againe : 
 
 Since thou sits dumbe, and cannot bite, but barke. 
 Peace, hold thy peace, else shotv me thine owne ivark. 
 But zealous eyes may come, come, and come soone, 
 To read this Task, ifpleasd, Lo ! I have done. 
 
 To the godly and good Christian, 
 a fellow suppliant in Christ, 
 
 William Lithgovv.
 
 THE 
 
 GYSHING TEAEES 
 
 OF 
 
 GODLY SORROW. 
 
 Pring sweet coelestial Muse, launch forth a flood, 
 Of brinish streams, in cristall melting woes ; 
 Rain-riU my plaints, then bath them in Christs blood 
 Let pearling drops, my pale remorse disclose : 
 
 Sink sorrow in my soule, divulge my grief. 
 
 Who mourns, and mourns in time, shall finde relief. 
 
 I can not reach, to what my soule would aime ! 
 
 But help good God my weaknesse, and support 
 
 My bashfull quill : ! teach me to disclaime 
 
 My self, and cleave, to thy all-saving Port : 
 Touch thou my heart, so shall my hps recoile, 
 Thine Altars praise, to sing sins utmost spoile. 
 
 Thrice blest is he who mournes, he shall rejoyce 
 
 Whilst godly sorrow, shall encrease his joy : 
 
 Lord heare my cryes, remarke my weeping voice ! 
 
 Blesse thou this work, let grace my heart imploy ; 
 That what these Tears aford, in this plain storie, 
 May tend to my souls health, and thy great glorie. 
 
 B Great
 
 The gushing Teares 
 
 Great Son, of the great God, fulnesse of time ! 
 Whom Heavens applaude, whom earth fals down before ! 
 The promis'd Pledge, whom Prophets most sublime ; 
 Foretold to come, our Lord, the Son of glore : 
 
 To thee knee -bo wd, before thy face I fall, 
 
 Come help, help ! now I begin to call. 
 
 Most holy, mighty, high, and glorious God ! 
 
 Most mercifuU, most gracious, and kinde ; 
 
 Most Ancient, righteous, patient, and good, 
 
 Most wise, most just, most bountifull of minde ; 
 Infuse thy grace, enlarge thy love in mine, 
 Confirme my faith, conforme my will to thine. 
 
 Eternall One ! Beginner, unbegunne ! 
 
 Thou first, and last ; Heavens founder, and Earths ball ! 
 
 Container, uncontaind ! Father, and Sonne ! 
 
 Thou All in All 1 unruld, yet ruling All ! 
 
 Great Light, of lights ! who moves all things unmovd 
 Hearke, help, and heare ; for Christs sake thy belovd. 
 
 Sole Soveraigne Balme ! come heale my wounded soule ! 
 
 Which fainting fals, under thine heavie hand ; 
 
 Regard my plaints, remit mine errours foule, 
 
 Let mercy far, above thy justice stand : 
 
 Be thou my Heaven, place Heaven within mine heart, 
 Thy presence can make Heaven, where e're thou art. 
 
 Come challenge me ! come claime me for thine owne ! 
 
 Plead thou thy right, take place in my possession ; 
 
 Lord square my steps, thy goodnesse may be knowne. 
 
 In pard'ning each defect of my transgression : 
 Arrest my sinnes, but let my soule goe free, 
 Baile me from thrall, let sinne deaths subject die. 
 
 Lord
 
 of godlie sorrow. 
 
 Lord wing my love, with feather'd faith to flee, 
 To thy all-burning Throne, of endlesse glory ; 
 Mercie is thine, for mercy is with thee. 
 Lord write my name, in thine eternall story : 
 
 ! help my strength ! farre weaker than a reed ! 
 
 Accept my purpose, for the reall deed. 
 
 The good I would, alace ! I can not do. 
 
 The ill I would not, that I follow still ; 
 
 The more thou citst me, I grow stubborn too, 
 
 Preferring base corruption to thy will : 
 
 For when thy Sprite, to serve Thee, doth perswade me, 
 The World, the Flesh, and Satan they disswade me. 
 
 What should I say ? no gift in me is left 
 To doe, to speak, to think, one godly motion ; 
 Lord help my wants, for why ? my soule is reft, 
 'Twixt feare and hope, 'twixt sinne, and true devotion : 
 
 Faine would I flighter, from this lust-lymd clay, 
 
 But more I strive, the more I faster stay. 
 
 Lord, with the sonne forlorne, bring me againe, AppHcati- 
 
 And cloth me, with the favour of thy face, ^°' *?^ ^' 
 
 . . . . vocation. 
 
 The swinish husks of smne I loath, and faine 
 Would be thy childe (adopt'd) the childe of grace ; 
 
 Thy Lambe was kill'd, for my conversions sake, 
 
 Of which let me, some food and comfort take. 
 
 Thy glorious Hierarchy, and Martyres all, 
 Kejoyce, at the returne, of a lost sheep : 
 Lord, in that number, let my portion fall, 
 That I with them, like melodic may keep : 
 
 So with thy Saints, my happynesse shall be. 
 
 One, and the same, as they are blest in Thee. 
 
 B2 Yet
 
 The gushing Teares 
 
 Yet whilst I pause, and duely do consider, 
 Thy will, my wayes, thy righteousnesse, mine errours, 
 I cannot plead, to flie, I know not whidder, 
 So grievous, are, the mountains of my terrours : 
 My sinnes so ugly, stand before thy face, 
 That I dare hardly claime, or call for grace. 
 
 What am I in thine eyes ? if I could ponder ? 
 
 But brickie trash, compos'd of slyme and clay ; 
 
 A wretch-worne worme, erect'd for sinne a wonder, 
 
 Whilst my souls treason, is thy judgements prey: 
 I have no health, nor truth, nor divine flashes, 
 So wicked is this Masse, of dust and ashes. 
 
 Humble Lord stretch thine arme, put Satan to the flight, 
 ^ 01 a 1- j^^^jg ^i^Q world from me, and me from it ; 
 
 Curbe thou my flesh, beat down my lusts delight, 
 Eule thou my heart, my will guide with thy Sprit ; 
 Infuse, encrease, confirme here, from above, 
 Thy feare, thy law, in me, thy light, thy love. 
 
 So shall I through Heavens merit onely rise, 
 And kisse thy soule-sought sonne, thy Lambe, thy Dove, 
 For whose sweet sake, I shall thy sight surprise, 
 And lift my hope, on his redeeming love : 
 
 Blest be the price, of mine exalting good ! 
 
 Who payd my ransome, with his precious blood. 
 
 In Thee I trust, Lord help my wavering faith. 
 And with thy merits, my demerits cover ; 
 Dispell my weaknesse, strengthen my faint breath, 
 Eenew my life, and my past sinnes, passe over : 
 
 Be thou my Pilot, guide this barke of clay, 
 
 Safe to the Port, of thy coelestiall stay. 
 
 Grant
 
 of godlie .sorrow. 
 
 Orant me obedience to tliy blest desire, 
 
 Instruct my minde, environe me with ruth ; 
 
 Cleanse thou my heart, with flames of sacred fire, 
 
 Fraught with the fulnesse, of thy saving truth : 
 Build up mine Altar, let mine offerings be 
 Faith, feare, and hope, love, praise, and thanks to Thee. 
 
 Lord ! spare me for his sake, whom thou not spard, 
 For my sake ; even for him, from Thee above 
 Was sent downe here and slaine ; ! what regard 
 Bore thou to Man ; to send thy Sonne of Love, 
 
 To suffer for my guilt, the fault being mine, 
 
 But (ah !) good Lord, the punishment was thine. 
 
 Thy love great God, from everlasting flowes 
 To everlasting ; Mans reach onely brings 
 Forth the Creation ; but thy love forth showes 
 From all eternitie, eternall springs 
 
 Of light unsearchable ; then praise we Thee, 
 
 That ere time was, ordain'd our time to be. 
 
 God made all things, and God was made a Man, rj^^ Crea- 
 
 AU thino'S he made of nothing ; but come see ? tors great 
 
 love to- 
 
 Withoutten man, all things (the truth to scan) wards us 
 
 Had turnd to nothing ; for from one degree ^-e?^'* 
 
 God of himselfe, made all things : and what more ? 
 
 He would not all things, without Man restore. 
 
 'O"- 
 
 He was of God begotten, all things made, 
 
 And borne of woman, all things did renew ; 
 
 For without man, all things had been a shade, 
 
 So nothing well, without a Virgin true : 
 
 Thus God, and Man, conjoynd in one we feele. 
 Life of our life, and soule of our souls weele. 
 
 B 3 What
 
 The giLsliing Teares 
 
 What was he made ? and what hath he made us ? 
 
 I pause with joy, with silence I admire ! 
 
 This mystery I adore ! who can discusse P 
 
 That goodnesse great, sprung from so good a Syre : 
 Can reason show, more reasonable way, 
 Than leave to pry, where reason can not swey. 
 
 The Sonne of God, (behold !) was made a Man ! 
 To make us men, th'adopted sonnes of God : 
 By which he made himself, our brother then. 
 For in all kindes, he keeps our brotherhood : 
 
 Though Judge (save sinne) and Intercessour, see ! 
 
 He brothers us, we must his suppliants be. 
 
 With what assurance, then may we all hope. 
 What feare can force, despaire, or yet distrust ? 
 Since our salvation, and our endlesse scope, 
 Hangs on our elder brother, Christ the Just : 
 He'le give us all the good, which we desire. 
 And pardon all the sinnes, on us engyre ? 
 
 Chrkts The burden of our miseries he bore, 
 able love, -^-ud laid his merits weight, on our sick soules ; 
 A kindnesse beyond reach ; his goodnesse more, 
 Engross'd his name, for us, in shamef ull scroules : 
 ! wondrous love, that God should humble thus. 
 Himself, and take Mans shape, to rescue us. 
 
 He who in heavens was admirable set, 
 Became for us, contemptible on earth ; 
 And from the Towre, of his Imperial! state, 
 Imbrac'd a Dungeon, for angelick mirth ; 
 And chang'd the name, of Majestic in love. 
 To shelter us, with mercy from above. 
 
 What
 
 of godlie sorrow. 
 
 What eyes for grief, should not dissolve in floods ? 
 Whilst our vile sinnes, procur'd his woofull paine : 
 He sought our well (unsought) when we in woods 
 Of wickednesse, lay wallowing amaine ; 
 
 And daily yet, by sinne, distrust, and strife, 
 
 We crucifie againe, the Lord of life. 
 
 As irne in fire cast, takes fires nature. 
 And yet remaineth irne, though fram'd, what than ? 
 So he, who in Gods love doth burne, that creature 
 Partakes his holynesse, abiding man ; 
 
 For love, seals up Gods counsels, ends the law, 
 
 From which we sinners, cords of mercy draw. 
 
 Ijovc, is the roote of vertue, and the childe Love con- 
 
 Of grace ; Truths mistresse, and religions glasse ; yen. 
 
 The soule of goodnesse, in perfection milde, 
 The crowne of Saints, that conquer Paradise : 
 
 The joy of Angels : ! what springs of love ! 
 
 Flow from the Law, for us, and our behove. 
 
 Ingratefull Man ! contemner of thy good. 
 Can thou not back-bestow, thy debt-bund love ! 
 To him, for thee, did shed his precious blood, 
 And though rebuk'd, yet would he not reprove : 
 
 Why did he fast, weep, watch, and labour take ? 
 
 In basenesse and contempt, but for thy sake. 
 
 Then be not like, that plant Ephemeroii ! 
 
 Which springs, and growes, and fades, all in one day 
 
 But plead remorse, beg for contrition, 
 
 Mourue for thy sinnes, make haste, prevent delay : 
 In this my self, shall to my selfe returne. 
 He best can weep, that knowes the way to mourne.
 
 The gushing Teares 
 
 Obsequi- I rather seem'd than been religious set. 
 fessions Having Jacobs voice, and Esau's rough hands ; 
 I make profession, practise I forget, 
 My better zeale, hypocrisie commands ; 
 
 I serpent like, do change my skinne, but not 
 Disgorge the poison, lurkes within the throate. 
 
 Vice I have us'd, under a vertuous seeming, 
 And like the sea, though rivers in it fall ; 
 Yet not the sweeter ; or like Pharaohs dreaming, 
 The leane kine, yet were leane, when eaten all : 
 
 Stay then dry soule, where are thy Teares ? what springs ? 
 
 Should thy pale eyne cast out, when sorrow sings. 
 
 A distin- I meauc not childrens tears, when whipt for aw, 
 workii^^* Nor mundane teares, for losse of trash or geare ; 
 and godly Nor spightfull tcarcs, which would revenge downe draw : 
 Nor teares of grief, for them concerne us neare ; 
 
 Nor teares for death, nor teares for what disasters ; 
 
 Nor teares for friends ; nor wives teares for men wasters. 
 
 Nor drunken teares, spent after sugred wine, 
 
 Which women waste, to colour imperfection ; 
 
 Nor Dalilahs fained teares, to undermine, 
 
 The strong mans strength, by way of fals detection : 
 Nor Sinons teares, the Trojane state betrayde. 
 With the wooden horse, Ulysses wit bewrayde. 
 
 Nor faigned teares, the Grocadilean sexe, 
 Do spend (I meane) their husbands to deceave ; 
 Nor these Courtegian teares, that love to vexe 
 Their sottish Palliards, and their meanes bereave : 
 
 Nor teares of pitty, mercy beg from men. 
 
 That's not the drift, of my obsequious pen. 
 
 Looke 
 
 teares.
 
 of godlie sorrow. 
 
 Looke to thy lapses, and quotidian falling, 
 
 Then try thy conscience, if remorse creeps in ; 
 
 Which if it doe, thou art brought to this calling. 
 
 Of godly weeping, for the guilt of sinne ! 
 
 These tears are blest, and such mine eyes would borrow, 
 But not these tears, which melt, for worldly sorrow. 
 
 Lord, strengthen me, with knowledge of thy word, 
 
 Square thou my judgment, I may walk upright ; 
 
 An intellective Heart, my soule aford, 
 
 , Endue my sprite, with supernatrall light ; 
 
 Faine would I slaughter sinne, that would me slay, 
 And learne thy truth, Lord teach me thy right way. 
 
 Confound in me, this all-predominant sinne. 
 Which overrules my reason, sense and will ; 
 One head-strong vice, that lurkes, and lyth within 
 The inmost center, of mine utmost ill : 
 
 Lord, curbe its force, and purifie my soule, 
 
 From such uncleannesse, for its wondrous foule. 
 
 Grant ! grant remorse ! let godly sorrow show ! 
 
 My full-swolne sight, my brinish tears, my sadnesse ; 
 
 Come sowre repentance, let sweet contrition know ! 
 
 The mourning woes, of my rejoycing gladnesse : 
 
 What though that grief, at morne worke me annoy, 
 Yet long ere night, thou'le turne my grief in joy. 
 
 The best man lives, hath one predominant ill, The le- 
 
 Oppos'd to the best good, he can effect ; om anT 
 
 The worst man breaths, though curs'd, pervers'd of will, good. 
 Hath some predominant good, he doth affect : 
 
 Even either answering, contrare to their kinde, 
 
 Seenie to resemble, what they never finde. 
 
 C Lord !
 
 The gushing Teares 
 
 Lord ! what am I, whose best is even accurst, 
 Who with thy Convert, is of sinners chief: 
 A sharde unsav'rie, of thy works the worst, 
 Unlesse thy grace, renew me with reliefe : 
 
 Lord ! will my well ! prepare my heart, give eare, 
 If faith can call, ! thou canst quickly heare. 
 
 The poore which almes seeks, he gets not aide 
 
 For any need, the giver hath of him ; 
 
 But even because, he hath of us great need ; 
 
 So we by faith, on Christian steps must dim : 
 For G-od of his great love, he freely gives us, 
 And without need of man, he still relieves us. 
 
 Contrary ^ CvmcJc Came, and ask'd the Syrian king, 
 ties. Anticjonus ; a dram of silver coyne ; 
 
 But he reply'd, it was too base a thing 
 For kings to give, or lend so small a loane ; 
 Said Cynick then, I would a talent crave. 
 But thats too much, for thee (said he) to have. 
 
 Thus two extreams, were both extreamly met, 
 But its not so with God, and sinfull men ; 
 The more we seeke, the more we're sure to get, 
 God of his bounty, is so good, that when 
 
 We mercy crave, he grants it, gives us grace, 
 Our wills and wayes, may in his precepts trace. 
 
 Lift up my falling minde, Lord ! knit my heart 
 With cords of love, and chaines of grace to thee ; 
 As Jonathans three arrows, did impart 
 To Davids woes, true signes of amitie : 
 
 So rouze my sprite, let grace and goodnesse spell 
 Mine Annagram, I Love Almighty Wel. 
 
 0!
 
 of godlie sorrow. 
 
 ! if I could, byte off the head of sinne ! 
 
 As the shee Viper, doth the male confound ; 
 
 But not like her, whose brood conceiv'd within, 
 
 Cut forth her wombe, leave her dead on the ground : 
 Lord ! grant, I sinne may slay, ere sinne slay me. 
 The wounds are deep, my health consists in Thee. 
 
 Lord ! when I ponder on this worldly pride, 
 Vaine glory, riches, honour, noble birth. 
 Great lands, and rents, faire palaces beside, 
 Pastimes, and pleasures, fit -thought things on earth. 
 Without thy love, and in regard of thee. 
 They're nought but shaddows, of meere vanitie. 
 
 All under sunne, are emblems of deceit, 
 
 The world 
 is a mappe 
 
 Link'd snares, to trap, blind man in ev ry vice ; of e\iis. 
 
 They're feather'd baits, prest grines, that lye in wait, 
 To catch the buyer, unvaluing their pryce : 
 
 Then carelesse soule, take heed, prevent this danger, 
 
 Lay hold on Christ, and be no more a stranger. 
 
 Gods will allots, that my past curious sights. 
 In painfull prime, all where the world abroad ; 
 Should be repaid, with as darke cloudie nights 
 Of sorrows sad ; for now I finde the rod ; 
 
 Sicknesse, and crosses, compasse me about, 
 
 Whence none but Christ, can help or rid me out. 
 
 Listen to me, as to thy Lazar poore, 
 Thats overstamp'd with seals, of scabs, and sores ; 
 Both vile and wretch'd, lyth at thy mercies doore, 
 Begging for crummes of pitie ; and implores 
 
 That thou wouldst open, with Lydia my heart. 
 
 And make me Sauls dear second, thy Convert. 
 
 C2 Thy
 
 TJie gushing Teares 
 
 Thy lengthning hand, is now no more cut short,. 
 Than in old times, of wonder-working dayes, 
 But thou canst turne, and safely bring to Port, 
 The wilsome Wandrer, from his sinfull wayes : 
 
 then great Sheepherd ! pitie a lost sheep ! 
 
 And bring me home ; safe in thy fold me keep. 
 
 Thou art the vine, I am the twisted branch, 
 Which on thy roote, my hopes must humbly twine ; 
 For in thy sap, my sin-galld wounds, lie quench, 
 No balme of Gilead, to that Balme of thine : 
 ! better things, than Abels blood it speaks f 
 It saves the world, and Mans salvation feeks. 
 
 ciirists How sacred were these teares ? fell from thine eyes : 
 
 teares over 
 
 Jerusalem. When for Jerusalem, thou wept so sore : 
 Mercy did plead, deploring their disease. 
 For pitties sake, thou didst their well implore : 
 A kindnesse passing love ! when for thy foes 
 Thou wept and cryde for ; prophecying their woes. 
 
 That spikenard oyle, which on thy feet was spred 1 
 Doth represent to me that bloody balme ; 
 Which on the crosse, from thy left side was shed. 
 To slay the power of sinne, make Satan calme : 
 ! let that oyle. by grace sinke in my soule. 
 To heale my sores, and cleanse mine errours foule. 
 
 Breake dow^ne the rock, of my hard flinty heart ! 
 Let moisture thence, ascend to my two springs ; 
 The head contains these Eills, let them impart, 
 Signes of contrition, godly sorrow brings : 
 
 ! happy floods ! of ever-springing joyes ! 
 
 That in the midst of weeping can rejoyce. 
 
 When
 
 of godlie sorrow. 
 
 When pale remorse, strikes on my conscience sad, 
 Mov'd with the lapse, of my relapsing sinne ; 
 Faith flees above, and bids my soule be glad. 
 Where mercy enters, judgement comes not in ; 
 One sigh in need, flowne from a mourning spirit, 
 Thou'le not reject, being cast on Jesus merit. 
 
 We should 
 not despair 
 but hojie 
 for mercy. 
 
 Come gracious Grod, infuse in me full grace! 
 Wrought by thy Sprite, my souls eternall good : 
 Let mercy plead 'gainst justice ; Lord, give place ? 
 The way is thine, my right, rests in Christs blood: 
 
 Come pardon my misdeeds ! release my smart ! 
 
 Then quicken me, with a relenting heart. 
 
 Whilst I conceive mans frailnesse, weake by nature, 
 How wretch'd he is ? how prone to fall or sinks ? 
 Of all thy works, the most rebellious creature : 
 Clog'd with ingratenesse, ever bent to shrinke. 
 
 What thing is man (think I) thou shouldst regard him, 
 And with a crowne of glory to reward him. 
 
 Thus pausing too, on long eternall rest, 
 
 That boundlesse time, which no time can containe ; 
 
 How rich thinke I these soules be ? and how blest ? 
 
 In time strive here, that endlesse time to gaine : 
 
 Strive then poore soule, to claime and climbe this Fort : 
 For faith and violence, must force Heavens Port. 
 
 O Lord ! how wondrous is thy powerfull love ? 
 
 Whose mercies farre, above thy works excell ! 
 
 Who can thy secret Cabine reach above ? 
 
 Or sound these deeps, wherein thy counsels dwell ? 
 When thou for man, turnd man, and suffer'd death, 
 To free slaine man, from thy fierce judgements wrath. 
 
 C 3 Thy 
 
 Impene- 
 trable 
 counsels.
 
 works of 
 creation 
 
 The gushing Teares 
 
 Thy wayes are all inscrutable to Man, 
 For who can dyve, in thy profounding love ; 
 Whose kindnesse is unspeakable ; and whan 
 We would most comprehend, we least approve : 
 Thy wayes, thy works, so farre excell us men, 
 The more we strive to know, the lesse we ken. 
 
 The To look on Heavens, rich star-imbroidred coat. 
 
 That Cannopy, of silver-spangled skie ; 
 The glorious firmament, clear without spot. 
 The Sphearick Planets, as their orders lye ; 
 
 The worlds two lamps, erect'd with mareveilous hght. 
 
 And Elements, which blinde our dazeling sight. 
 
 Darknesse, and light, all quarters, and their Climes, 
 
 The rolling Axletree, supporting All ; 
 
 The Airts, and seasons, in their severall times, 
 
 This ovall Orbe, fenc'd with a glassie wall ; 
 These revolutions, from proud Planets fall, 
 Poretnding Comets, Mans prodigious thrall. 
 
 The rolling seas, against the stars that swell, 
 Their reeling tides, their turnes and quiet rest : 
 These Creatures, and hudge Monsters therein dwell, 
 Nought here on earth, but that shape there's exprest : 
 Their exhalations (earths concavities) 
 And shoare-set bound, all wonders to our eyes. 
 
 Differen- Thcsc phisnomies of men, their variant faces, 
 kinde ^^^ Show the Creators wisedome, in creation ; 
 Not one like other, in forme, nor in graces, 
 Manners, condition, qualitie, nor station : 
 
 strange ! Mans frame, should thus all times be showne. 
 By gifts and Vults divers'd, yet clearly knowne. 
 
 These
 
 of godlie sorrow. 
 
 These birds fethcriall, glyding fowles that flee, 
 To court the clouds, alwhere the aire about ; 
 Which nest the Eocks, steep walls, aud springing tree, 
 Whose names, and kindes, none yet could all finde out : 
 Each keep their office, set by natures stamp, 
 And live, and die, within thy boundlesse Camp. 
 
 That influence, which man, beast, hearbs, and trees, 
 Draw from the silver PJiehe, of the night : 
 The signes ccelestiall, aspectives to disease, 
 The Starres so different in their glorious light : 
 
 Time, that was creat first, and last shall be, 
 
 And ev'ry creature in their own degree. 
 
 How marvellous great, art thou almighty God ! 
 Who by thy word, wrought all, and it was done : 
 Thou spreadst thy works, the Heavens, and earth abroad ! 
 No part left vaste, that can creation shunne : 
 
 1 what is foolish man, the childe of lust ! 
 
 That should not in, this great Jehovah trust. 
 
 Dull are my senses, any way to think, 
 My blind capacitie, can well conceave, 
 The supreame providence, by natures wink, 
 And bound his boundlesse pow'r, unlesse I rave : 
 
 Like, who can once, exhaust the Occean dry ? 
 
 No more can I, in his great grandure pry. 
 
 A king command'd, a Philosophick man, 
 To shew him, what was God, and what his might ? 
 He strove, and faild, and said. He could not scan 
 That greatnesse which excelld, best Natures light : 
 
 The Pagan king admird, and yet this wretch 
 Confess'd, there was a God, in power rich. 
 
 To
 
 Gods 
 works 
 shew his 
 Godhead. 
 
 Hie gushing Teares 
 
 To show us there's Deitie, all things ascend, 
 And mount aloft, as vapour, smoake, and fire, 
 The trees grow upward, waves when tost transcend^ 
 All birds and fowles, tetherially aspire. 
 
 So words, and voices, still their ecchoes raise. 
 And man, whose face, is made on heaven to gaze. 
 
 There's nought but worms and beasts, which sight the ground^ 
 But all denote, their great eternall Maker ; 
 Yet man, wretch'd man, is earth ty'd, and fast bound. 
 To things below, whereof he's still partaker ; 
 
 Nay ; worse then beasts, he's choak'd with worldly cares. 
 
 And kills his heart with greed, his soule with snares. 
 
 What are the humours, of our foggy braines ? 
 
 But stupid thoughts, conceiv'd of doubts and feare : 
 
 Best pregnant wits, suspition quells their straines ; 
 
 The wise, the worldlings, have their Emblemes here : 
 A shadow without substance, I finde man. 
 Nay worse ! than Baalams Asse, the truth to scan. 
 
 He sinne reprov'd, yet never sinn'd himselfe. 
 
 But wofuU man, can both rebuke and sinne ; 
 
 That which his words most hate, becomes the shelf, 
 
 Wliereon his inward lusts, fall deepest in : 
 
 Mans lips are snares, his lips both false and double, 
 His tongue, a sting, begets both shame and trouble. 
 
 Mans in- 
 firmities. 
 
 heavie lump ! the carcasse of disease ? 
 Masse of ill ! the Chaos of corruption ; 
 Microcosmos ! of infirmities ! 
 rotten slyme ! the pudle of inruption ! 
 
 I mean mans stinking flesh ; who can expresse ? 
 
 The worst ; its best, is but base filthynesse.
 
 of godlie sorrow. 
 
 A plunge of carion clay, a prey for wormes, 
 
 A faggot (without mercy) for Hells fire ; 
 
 A gulf, where beats, sterne deadly boystrous stormes, 
 
 A whirlewiixle, for Airts of each attire : 
 
 Wherein combustion, sprung from contrare wills, 
 Makes thoughts arise, like waves, surpassing hills. 
 
 And what's our beauty ? but a flash-showne show, 
 For when at best, its filthy, vile, and base : 
 The nose, the mouth, our excrements we know, 
 And breath stinke worse, than beasts of any race : 
 Nay, sweetest things, than ever time made faire, 
 They loathsome grow, unlesse the use be rare. 
 
 Mans 
 beauty, 
 (rummers 
 blossoine^ 
 
 The soule except'd, when I consider all 
 
 Gods w^orkes and Creatures, Man is onely worst ! 
 
 The rest sublunary, succumbent fall ; 
 
 Mans onely blest, or else for ever curst : 
 
 All things as servile, serve for mediate ends, 
 Save man, whose wage, on joy or woe depends. 
 
 Lord ! what am I, within this house of clay ? 
 
 But brickie trash, compos'd of slime and dust : 
 
 A rotten fabrick, subject to decay, 
 
 Which harbours nought, but crums of wretched lust : 
 And if a guest, of one good thought, entreates me, 
 I barre it out, to lodge the ill, that hates me. 
 
 Impietie, and custome, scale my Fort, 
 To rule my minde, like to their blinde desire : 
 Will, head -strong helpes ; corruption keeps the Port, 
 The hands and feet, set eve and tongue on fire : 
 Then Eloquence breaks forth, a subtile foe, 
 To trap the object, working me the woe, 
 
 D 
 
 Whv?
 
 The gushing Teares 
 
 Self-love Why ? cause affection, begets opinion, 
 world. Opinion rules the world, in ev'ry minde : 
 
 Then sense submits, that pleasure should be Minion, 
 To base conceit, absurdly grosse, and blinde : 
 Thus fond opinion, self loves halting daughter, 
 Betrayes my scope, commits me to sinnes slaughter. 
 
 Then judgment falls, and fails, and reason flees, 
 To shelter Wisedome, in some solid breast : 
 They leave me both, left loaden with disease. 
 Whilst frailty fastens, sorrow on my creest : 
 Delite contracts despite, despyte disdaine, 
 Thus threefold chaind, their furies forge my paine. 
 
 My best companion, is my deadly foe, 
 Sin is my consort, and would seeme my friend ; 
 Yea ; walks with me, wheree're my footsteps goe, 
 And will not leave me, till my journeys end : 
 The more I flee, the faster it cleaves to me. 
 And makes corruption, labour to undoe me. 
 
 There six degrees of sinne, in man I finde, 
 the causes Conception first, and then consent doth follow : 
 
 of sin. 
 
 The thirds desire, that turns his judgement blinde : 
 The fourth is practise, ragged, rent, and hollow : 
 The fift is flinty, keeps fast obduration. 
 And last, the sixt, lulls him in reprobration. 
 
 Mans owne corruption is the seed of sinne. 
 And custome is, the pudle of corruption : 
 Swift head-strong habit, traitour-like creeps in. 
 And blows sinnes bellowes, to make more inruption : 
 Nay ; the worlds example, sinnes strong secourse, 
 Makes both the object, and the subject worse. 
 
 How
 
 of gocllie sorrow. 
 
 How many foes hath man ? within, without him ? ^lans life 
 
 Within, hirks concupiscence, vertues foe ; 
 
 Without, the world, which waits, and hangs about him, 
 
 Both ghostly and humane, to worke his woe : 
 
 Last comes the conscience, judge-set to accuse him, 
 And verdict given, then terrour would confuse him. 
 
 Thus man is ev'ry way, tost to and fro. 
 Like Tunneise balls, when banded, still rebound : 
 All things have action, Nature rules it so, 
 The secret sprite of life, these motions bound : 
 
 Their being honours God, who gave them being, 
 
 But man fals back from him, gave reason seeing. 
 
 And yet to quench these fires, remorse creeps in. 
 And brings contrition, with confession crying : 
 Faith flees before, pleads pardon for our sin, 
 Then ragged rottennesse, fals down a dying : 
 
 For repentance, and, remission of sinnes, 
 
 Are two inseparable, sister twinnes. 
 
 Most have no teares for sinne, but tears of strife. 
 To plead malicious pleyes, and waste their meanes 
 On Lawyers tongues ; that love their envious life, 
 And what like party loose, the Cormant gleanes : 
 
 Their cause, and charges lost ; spightfull pride ! 
 
 They spend at last, the stock they had beside. 
 
 Deceitfull 
 
 Like to the mouse, and frogge, which did contend. 
 Which of them should, enjoy the marish ground ; greed 
 
 The Kyte as Judge, discuss'd this cause in end, 
 And took them both, from what they could not bound : 
 So Proctors seaze, on Clyants lands, and walls, 
 And raise themselves, in their contentious falls. 
 
 D 2 They're
 
 TJie gushing Tecvres 
 
 They're like to jTJsojys dogge, who had a bone, 
 When through a flood lie swim'd, fast in his head : 
 Where spying his shade, he lets it fall anone, 
 To catch the other, lost them both indeed : 
 So spitefnll men and greedy, (well its knowne) 
 In seeking others state, they loose their owne. 
 
 Thrice blest is he, who knowes, and flyes, like men, 
 Since greed begets oppression, or debate : 
 And though Deceivers, play Politicks then, 
 To make their wrongs, a right, to raise their state : 
 Yet forth it comes, no subtilitie can close it, 
 For time, and truth, will certainly disclose it. 
 
 They thinke to hide their faults, by craft and plots, 
 To blynde Gods eyes, as they inveigle man : 
 strange ! what villany their soule besots. 
 That dare 'gainst truth, the traitour play ; and than 
 Deceive themselves, by a deceitfuU way, 
 Which tends to death, and make them Satans prey. 
 
 Then, there is nought, but once will come to light, 
 No siune so close, but God will it discover ; 
 No policie can blinde Almighties sight. 
 Nor fault so hid, that he will once passe over : 
 Unlesse repentance, draw his mercy downe, 
 Thy darkest deeds, shall be disclos'd eft soone. 
 
 Jo)Mh dis- Behold Jonah ! from Joppa when he fled ! 
 
 covered. ^^^^ would not stay, to do the Lords direction : 
 Clos'd in a ship, and hid ; yea, nothing dread. 
 Yet found he was, and swallowed for correction : 
 
 Paul con- '^'^d Paul for JDamas bound, to persecute 
 
 verted. jjjg Saints, was stroke, yet sav'd, his drifts refute. 
 
 Looke
 
 of godlie sorroiv. 
 
 Looke to Ca his murder, how it was clear'd ? 
 And Davids blood-shed, with adultrie mixt : 
 Reraarke the bush, whence Adams voice appear'd, 
 And Israels thoughts, when they their IMaker vext : 
 
 Then he who made thine eyes, and gave them sight, 
 
 Can he not see, who gave thy seeing hght. 
 
 It's not with God as men, Gods ev'ry where ! Gods om- 
 
 In Heaven, and earth, God's presence fiUeth all ; nipotency. 
 
 In Hell below, his Justice ruleth there, 
 
 All things must, to, his omniscience fall : 
 Man knows, but as he sees, and in a part, 
 But God doth search the reynes, and try the heart. 
 
 How swinishly (alas) have I then liv'd : 
 Nay, who can say, that I have liv'd at all ; 
 Whilst buried else, in sleep, in sloth, or griev'd 
 With fals-forgd cares, congiutinating thrall : 
 
 To tempt my loving, and most patient God, 
 
 I have contemn'd his mercy, mock'd his rod. 
 
 There's nought so smooth and plaine, as calme-set seas, Repugnant 
 
 And nought more rough, when rag'd, by stormy winde ; f^^^'^"' 
 
 The lead is cold as yce, or Winter freize ; 
 But when been firde, its scolding bote we finde : 
 
 The irne is blunt, till toold, and edge be put, 
 
 And then most sharpe, to stobbe, to shave, or cut. 
 
 So patient God, is loath, and slow to wrath, 
 
 His patience is as great, as great his love ; 
 
 Long sufFring he, deferres to threaten death ! 
 
 Till our grosse sinnes, his just drawn-judgements move, 
 
 And then his auger stirr'd, it burnes like fire, 
 
 Consuming man, and sinners in his ire. 
 
 D 3 Next, 
 
 sons.
 
 oiir natiu"e. 
 
 Tlie gushing Teares 
 
 Next ; pause I on, the momentany sight, 
 Of mans short life, that hke a shadow flees ; 
 Much like the swiftnesse of a Faulcones flight, 
 Or like a bird, glydes by our glancing eyes : 
 
 Then marvell I, how man can harbour pride ? 
 
 Or wherein should, his vanitie confyde. 
 
 The To day he's stout, to morrow laid in grave, '' 
 
 weaknesse, jjjg lookes alive, are plumd, like variant feathers : 
 
 and •11 
 
 changes of Been thrownc in dust, he tumes to earth a slave, 
 
 And as he breaths, the crummes of lust he gathers : 
 But would he muse, on long eternitie. 
 He would forsake himself, and learne to die. 
 
 To learne to die, that he may learne to live, 
 
 For in this course, his happinesse consists ; 
 
 Die to himself, that grace may> vice survive, 
 
 In mortifying sinne, his blesse subsists : 
 
 Come life, come death, thus dying so, he's blest. 
 And doubtlesse shall, in peace of conscience rest. 
 
 Jesu ! who redeemd us, being dead ! 
 
 Whence could thy love, so farre to us extend ; 
 
 We had no merit, thou of us no need. 
 
 And yet thy grace our weeknesse doth defend ; 
 For as man first, to be like God, condemn'd us, 
 So Grod turned man, that God should not contemne us. 
 
 Farre better is a life unfortunate. 
 In end with honour, that yeelds up the breath ; 
 Than honourable life, and wealthy state. 
 With shame to perish, and untimely death: 
 I rather wish, to be a sheepherd bornCj 
 Then live a Prince, and at my death forlorne. 
 
 Come
 
 of godlie sorrow. 
 
 Come answer me, who would be undertaker, An obje- 
 
 Whether its best, to be a man or beast ? tween''*'' 
 
 The beast dissolves, and not offends his Maker, »"^" '^"'^ 
 
 Nor makes no count, save to some carnall feast : 
 But Godlesse Man, in grieving God, is worse, 
 Throwne downe to Hell, and with that fall, liis curse. 
 
 Who rightly weighs, the variable kindes, 
 
 Of Mortals all, in either death or life ? 
 
 Shall see their bubling breath, tost with sharpe windes. 
 
 Of stagring doubts, ingorgd with timerous strife : 
 
 Their conscience, and, their living disagreeing. 
 
 In will or worke, most vanquish'd are in dying. 
 
 Nay, soule and body, at that dreadful! day, - The panes 
 
 Shall be conjoynd, and hurld downe to Hell : of Hell. 
 
 This wretch thus damn'd, in tortring flames shall stay, 
 Chaind in that howling Radamanthan Ceil : 
 
 The beast he fals, and turnes to nought we see. 
 
 But Man adjudgd, his worme shall never die. 
 
 As for the vertuous Saint, his happinesse. 
 
 Begins at death, which end all worldly noyes ; 
 
 He swarmes in pleasures, rich in blessednesse. 
 
 Death makes the passage, to his heavenly joyes : 
 He feares no stop, nor stay, his faith instructs him. 
 The way (though strait) his good Angel conducts him. 
 
 And wouldst thou learne whilst here, t'attaine that way, 
 Be humble first, and then religious set ; 
 Place heaven before Thee, make faith thereon to stay, 
 And then let zeale and love, fast setling get 
 
 To grip Christs wounds ; then feare, then praise, then pray, 
 
 Let earnest prayers, thy best devotion swey. 
 
 For
 
 The gushing Teares 
 
 Prayer 
 and medi- 
 tation, 
 two hea- 
 venly ex- 
 ercises. 
 
 For prayer is, the souls great sacrifice, 
 Which speaks to God ; and meditation, 
 Is Gods speech to the soule ; an exercise 
 Conjoyned together ; two revolv'd in one : 
 The one invelopes the other, and speaks 
 Reciprocal! : Both our salvation seeks. 
 
 Which two, like Hypocrates twinnes are bred, 
 
 Who liv'd, fed, slept, joyd, wept, and dyed together ; 
 
 So can they not be separate indeed : 
 
 Though fasting doe prepare, their journey hither : 
 This outward action, like t' a potion scoures, 
 The other spirituall, are divinely ours. 
 
 Like to a paire of Turtles, truely set, 
 Whereof the one by death, been slaughter'd gone, 
 The other niournes, for losing of her Mate, 
 And languishing doth die ; No life alone. 
 So meditation, gives matter to the minde. 
 And without prayer, nothing shall we finde. 
 
 The ef- 
 fects of 
 prayer. 
 
 For both bring reconcilement, and acceptance, 
 And makes thee, to thy father, a loving sonne ; 
 So by his Sonne, a brother of acquaintance, 
 And by the Sprite, a Temple ; squard, and done : 
 Last in the Court of Heaven, thou art made free, 
 A fellow, with th' Angelick hierarchie. 
 
 O joy of joyes ! happy endlesse blesse ! 
 
 Who can expresse, that glory there reveal'd ? 
 
 The eye, the minde, nor tongue can dascon this ! 
 
 Since ravish'd Paul, amaz'd, hath it conceaFd : 
 Then labour silly soule, this marke to aime, 
 'NMiich seen, and got, how great is thy good name ? 
 
 But
 
 of godlie sorrow. 
 
 But (ah !) I stagger in the myres of sin, 
 And daily sinks, in pudles of defects : 
 The more I flee, the more I swallow in 
 The stinking marish, of absurd effects : 
 
 The very boggy quagmyres of vice, 
 
 I plunge them all, un valuing weight, or price. 
 
 The price (alas !) is great, and I must pay it, 
 
 Unlesse Christs wounds, break open, plead for pitie ; 
 
 pledge divine ! thy merits will defray it. 
 
 Thou art my surety, prevent my dittie ! Christs 
 
 Evert the sentence, least I lye in Jayle, wounds 
 
 Stand to thy mercy, Lord ! be thou my bayle. 
 
 To square the lives, of godly men with mine, 
 How farre my selfe, fled from my self, I finde ; 
 Thrice wretchd am I, to thinke me one of thine, 
 In whom corruption, rules the inward minde : 
 
 It's more then strange, I should expect for good. 
 
 Whilst still I trample, on my Saviours blood. 
 
 There is no sense in this, that I should slay 
 My silly soule, to crosse my crost desire : 
 Can head-strong passions, mine accounts defray ? 
 When my just Judge, my reckning shall require : 
 
 Nay, spare thy spurres, poore wretch, and call to minde 
 
 A self-soule Murdrer, can no mercy finde. 
 
 That sinne which I hate worst, I follow most. The in- 
 
 Yet faine would sift, the evil of deceit : i"^^ ""^ 
 
 Loe ! with repugnants, how my breast is tost, 
 
 Here lyes my safety, there the snaring bait ; 
 Sinne, like a Fowler, with a whistle takes me. 
 And that good, which I would, it theu forsakes me. 
 
 E 0!
 
 sinne. 
 
 The gushing Teares 
 
 ! love ! and love it self ! Father of love ! 
 
 And God of mercy, mercy is thy Name ! 
 
 King of pitie ! all my faults remove 
 
 Farre from before Thee, cover thou my shame : 
 That here me to accuse, they never come, 
 Nor hence to damne me, at the day of doome. 
 
 Wicked Ah ! wicked men ! they triumph in excesse ! 
 
 to mil'*^ To tempt thy patience, long suffring God ! 
 
 the simple They glory to cast downe, the fatherlesse, 
 
 And on the Widows back, they lay their rod : 
 
 They lose themselves, and so would lose their brother 
 With them ; thy honour, in their pride to smother. 
 
 Unwise is he, and thrice unhappy too ! 
 
 Who ill commits, that good thereon may follow : 
 
 He's like the Crocodile, that loves to wooe 
 
 The gray Nyle Rat, and eftsoone doth it swallow : 
 Which, when enclos'd, it cuts his wombe, seeks breath, 
 And with its freedome, workes the others death. 
 
 So haplesse man, in hurtfull wayes of sinne. 
 
 His hopelesse heart, he suffocats with lust ; 
 
 Till custome bring, sterne obduration in, 
 
 And then he turnes a Eeprobate injust : 
 
 The doore of grace is shut, his soule wants faith 
 Then sinne leaves him, squard for eternall death 
 
 They gallop on, in dark-drawne pathes of Hell, 
 
 The glen is hollow, but the way is broad ; 
 
 In two extreames, the least they quite repell, 
 
 To shunne a fardell, they receive a load : 
 
 The yoake of Christ is light, but ah ! they swallow 
 The weight of sinne, which all their labours follow. 
 
 I crosse
 
 of godlie sorroio. 
 
 I crosse my crossing armes, on my crost breast, 
 
 And musing Im'ks, to looke on humane state ; 
 
 How wretch'd it is ? how carelesse ? how deprest ? 
 
 To ev'ry snare, makes man unfortunate : 
 
 That haplesse he ! for one small moments pleasure, 
 Dare hazard (ah !) his souls eternall treasure. 
 
 Momenta! 
 pleasures 
 eternal] 
 paint. 
 
 The will, 'twixt reason, and sensualtie plac'd, 
 
 Is apt to be apply'd, to either side ; 
 
 But first, and firmest, Will by sense is trac'd, 
 
 Which is of youth, and childish age the guide ! 
 For seldome reason, can once conquer will, 
 Cause ; sense presents for good, a pleasant ill. 
 
 Will over- 
 comes rea- 
 son. 
 
 And in that ill, a wofull sowre content. 
 
 Which frights itself, with shadows of despaire : 
 
 ! miracle of madnesse ! what intent 
 
 Hath my cross'd soule ? to worke my grievous care 
 If mercy can not move me, to amend, 
 Yet self-affection, might my good intend. 
 
 Why then sick soule ? dost thou not weep one teare ? 
 
 O ! that thy grief ! would windy sighes disclose ! 
 
 Let mourning sorrow, melt in holy feare, 
 
 And pale remorse, dissolve, in watrie woes : 
 
 For godly groanes, which deep contrition brings, 
 They rent the clouds, and court the King of Kings. 
 
 Sighes and 
 teares are 
 holy sacri- 
 fices. 
 
 Whence pardon comes, and consolation too, 
 And strength to guard us, in worst stormy times ; 
 For what we would, the same he helps to doe. 
 And for one teare, he'le cover worlds of crymes : 
 
 What though I faint ? cause, great is my transgression. 
 Yet comfort comes, when there's a free confession, 
 
 E 2 Fraile
 
 TJie gushing Teares 
 
 Fraile is the foolerie, of my fragile flesh, 
 Still prone to fall, but never prompt to stand : 
 I second causes, with a desperate dash, 
 Cares not for times to come, nor whats in hand : 
 If I finde pleasure, in the worst of ill, 
 I murder reason, with a fearlesse will. 
 
 How long shall wicked thoughts, in me remaine ? 
 To slay my soule, and bring thy judgements dowTie : 
 When wilt thou curbe my sinne, and it restraine, 
 Lest like a flood, it shall me helplesse drowne : 
 Unlesse thy grace, support me, being fraile, 
 There's nought with mee, that can with thee prevaile. 
 
 The o-odiy -^^^^ ' ^^ number, what I should not speake, 
 sometime Qf lioly oucs, thy Prophets, and Apostles ; 
 
 recaild. How farrc (too oft) from Thee, were they to seek, 
 
 are 
 
 Throwne downe, 'mongst thornie briers, and pricking thistles : 
 Yet they were thine, thou suffer'd them to fall. 
 That in thy mercy, thou might them recall. 
 
 Herein their weaknesse, and thy power was knowne, 
 That to thy glorious Fame, it might redound : 
 What though they straid, these wandrers were thine OAvne, 
 They knew at last thy voice, and trac'd the sound : 
 
 Sometimes thy Saints would slip, and then repent them. 
 With heart-swolne tears, which grief & grace had lent them. 
 
 Thy holy writs, bear of their names record ! 
 
 To paternize my hopes, fixt on a Rock ; 
 
 How ev'r I faile, thou art a gracious Lord, 
 
 Full of redemption to thy chosen flock : 
 For their examples, teach me to beleeve, 
 Thou wilt protect me, and my faults forgive. 
 
 Gods
 
 of godlie sorrow. 
 
 Gods Champion Joshua, when he Jordan crost, Joshua's 
 
 And raz'd wall'd Jericho, downe to the ground : to^^"/ta6.^ 
 
 Yet sav'd he Bachah, all the rest were lost, 
 Gratefull he was, this Woman mercy found ; 
 
 Which towne lay waste, till Hiel Bethelite, 
 
 In Achahs time, rebuilt its ancient seat. 
 
 This was that towne, which Christ so oft past by, jesus at 
 
 From Galilee to Jehus, Sions glore ; Jencho 
 
 ' o ' saved Za- 
 
 Where throngd with folk, Zacheus could not spy cheus. 
 
 His sacred face, but run in haste before, 
 
 And top'd a fig-tree truack : Which seen by Christ, 
 
 Come downe (said he) Zacheus, I'me thy guest. 
 
 This day salvation, to thy house is come. 
 He recompense thy curious carefull eye : 
 Select'd thou art, for my coelestiall home ! 
 Great is thy faith, though small thy stature be : 
 
 By grace a Gyant, though a Dwarfe by nature, 
 
 I am thy Lord, Zacheus is my Creature. 
 
 Thus Joshua and Jesus, sav'd two, here see ! 
 A bordell Strumpet, and this Publican ; 
 To lesson us, what kinde soe're they be, 
 Turke, Jew, or Arab, Moore, or Mussilman ? 
 
 Christ hath his own Cornelius, and his Buth, 
 
 The Moahite, Centurions fraught with truth. 
 
 For almes deeds and prayer, pierce the clouds ! 
 Whence EUls of tears, do ever springing vent, 
 RemorsefuU songs, explor'd by rusling flouds, 
 Bank'd with the willow, bondage stili lament : 
 
 Where Harpes lye mute, and hearts are fill'd with plaints, 
 
 Deploring sore, stress'd Sion, and her Saints. 
 
 E 3 0!
 
 The gushing Teares 
 
 Gracelesse 
 eloquence 
 hard obdu- 
 rance. 
 
 ! if the Heavens ! would now infuse in me ! 
 Some divine rapt, to lay abroad her crosses : 
 But stay sad Soule ! that is too much for thee, 
 Let Pastours plunge these deepths, and blaze her losses 
 Onely bewaile, her sorrows, and thy fall. 
 Men may have tongues, and have no grace at all. 
 
 Not by compulsion, as by sense we see 
 Numbers do slide, each training one another ; 
 Herod could speak, and yet with vermine die, 
 Curst Cain slew, the righteous man his brother : 
 Saul he could prophecie, and yet he fell, 
 The Witch at Undor, rang his passing bell. 
 
 Worldly 
 wisedome 
 and pride 
 confoun- 
 ded. 
 
 Baalim could blesse, and Baalim he would curse, 
 And yet his Asse did check him, but come see ! 
 Wise was Achitophel, his end was worse. 
 Proud Absalom was hair-hangd on a tree : 
 Like be our foes, and like our Church now findes, 
 We want but Hushai, to bewray false mindes. 
 
 Though Ezra wept, and mourn'd for Judahs faults, 
 Yet had he adversars, which sought to slay him ; 
 Whilst rearing Sions walls, to barre assaults, 
 His threatning foes, sent Bassads to affray him : 
 The people wrought, and built with dextrat hand, 
 And in the left, their swords, for guard did stand. 
 
 So, so, and so, the state of Saints should be, 
 Eesolvd to suffer, and resolv'd to fight : 
 Yea, for the faith, should not refuse to die, 
 Since truth averres, what we acclaime by right : 
 But we have Wolves for lambes ; their coat is all. 
 If they get means, care not who stand or fall. 
 
 I scorne
 
 of godlie sorrow. 
 
 I scorne their checks, but more their critick censures, 
 
 Whilst with an honest heart, I hve, to Hve : 
 
 Whose sharp-edg'd calumnies, and scurrile tonsures. 
 
 Retort their breasts, but with more grief, to grieve : 
 If Gods good sprite, by grace to blesse contract me, 
 I care not, how, these tm-necoat times detract me. 
 
 Their time is short, their sentence can not bide, 
 
 Like to opinion, so their verdicts follow ; 
 
 They're blinde in reason, malicious in pride, 
 
 Whose tongues are Tombs, their hearts both false and hollow. 
 
 For whilst their craft, deceives them with deceeat, 
 
 They swallow up the hooke, and misse the bait. 
 
 Themselves they slay, with the same dart they shoot, Saikies en- 
 
 And in the pit do fall, they digg'd for other ; reply. 
 
 To stand for ill, they will not flee a foot. 
 Their evils, with a show of good they smother : 
 
 But soone mischief, can overcrush their braines. 
 
 Men swallow mounts, for execrable gaines, 
 
 Alas ! what is the bubling breath of man ? 
 Whose life hangs on his nostrils ; like to dew 
 Falne from the humid clouds ; and no wayes can 
 Secure it selfe, from Titans scorching view : 
 
 So mens conceit, in fond opinions flee, 
 
 VVliiles this, whiles that, whiles naught their actions be. 
 
 Let Davids hymnes, discover all their drifts, 
 TiU that their very eyes for fat leap out : 
 I love that soule surchafgd with pious gifts, 
 Simple in life, and for his conscience stout : 
 
 Say though his best were nought, his good intention, 
 
 Cast on the Lord, begets a safe prevention. 
 
 The
 
 The gushing Teares 
 
 The malice of each snare, my thoughts imbrace, 
 But above all with darling sinnes I dandle ; 
 I pleasure take, wherein there's no solace, 
 And with the Butterflie, the flame I handle : 
 The wings of lust I oyle, then sinne burnes me, 
 And whilst I stand to live, I post to die. 
 
 Wormes 
 are sepul- 
 chrall 
 mates. 
 
 Wormes are my Mates, when I in grave am laid, 
 They'le feed on me, who lov'd to feecl on dainties. 
 My senslesse Corps, shall with the senslesse spade 
 Be made a prey, to their devouring plenties : 
 My bones shall rot, then turne in mouldring dust, 
 This is the way of flesh, both bad and just. 
 
 And yet vaine Man, he little thinks or dreames, 
 Once of his death, nor what his end may be ? 
 His sense deludes him, and the world it seemes 
 A glasse to looke on, for his sensuall eye : 
 
 He neither mournes for sinne, nor sinne forsakes, 
 But from one ill, another worser takes. 
 
 What surging follies, overcloud my minde ? 
 
 With vain-wing'd fancies, and surmysing flashes ; 
 
 Such fleering thoughts, more lighter than the winde ! 
 
 Breed nought but foolerie, which opinion dashes : 
 My wish'd for wishes, straight conceiv'd and done. 
 The care of carelesse dreams, I scarce can shunne. 
 
 I posting runne, in wayes of naughty ends, 
 Man head- Lord ! crook, and stop my course, with streames of grace ! 
 long falls. 'Which flood, can carry none that ill pretends, 
 Like Jordan^ that, receives no barbarous face, 
 
 Unlesse they swim : So, {sans remorse) they'le drowne, 
 Who hazard here, quick sandie sins pull downe. 
 
 This
 
 of godlie bvrrow. 
 
 This saving grace, the soule guards with strong hand, The lake 
 
 And if it shp, it can not fully fall : fathers 
 
 Its like MaronaJis, full disgorging strand, Jordan. 
 
 Hembes in Canaan, from barbarian thrall : 
 
 Like keeps the Lord his owne, and guards their wayes. 
 They perish not ; though chargd with fraile delayes. 
 
 As Jordan circuits the holy land, 
 'Twixt Liha7i, and, that south-lake smoaking show ; 
 From the Petreian soyle ; joynd with a strand, 
 Which tribute payes, 'gainst Jericho I know. 
 
 To famous Jore : One parts the Midian soyle, 
 
 The other sackt, Samarias confynes coyle. 
 
 This is the march, girds Canaans south-east side. 
 
 But more the Lord preserves, and guards his owne 
 
 From ghostly ill, and from a3theriall pride, 
 
 From terrene sprites, from Hell, and what is knowne 
 To plague the soule ; he is a bulwark strong, 
 Fens'd with good Angels, free ail his from wrong. 
 
 ving grace. 
 
 Godly 
 
 Then happy they, can creep within this Tent ! teares, sa- 
 
 And sheltrage seek, under his mercies wings ; 
 
 Sigh for thy sinnes, ! let thy soule repent ! 
 
 Thy misdemeanour, to the King of kings : 
 
 First grieve, then weep, last seeke thy Saviour's face, 
 Let teares implore, for teares can plead for grace. 
 
 Kinde were these teares, which Josephs love had spent. 
 When with his brethren, he his brother saw : 
 His heart, surchargd with joy, it shrunke as shent. 
 To plunge that deep, which Benjamin did draw : 
 
 But loe ! moe teares ! were shed one with another, 
 
 When Joseph said. Behold, I am your brother, 
 
 F Feare
 
 The gushing Teares 
 
 Feare not (said he) the strict ^gTjptian law, 
 Though to the Ismaelites, my life you sold : 
 For what was done, was done by God I knaw, 
 No spight of yours, his providence behold ! 
 
 Foresaw your need, and brought me here to be, 
 
 A father to my Father's miserie. 
 
 There five yeares famine yet, shall worke your woe, 
 Wherein ag'd Jacob, and his race may starve, 
 Unlesse he flit ; then get you up and go 
 To fetch him downe, faile not in this, nor swerve : 
 They went, he came, all met in melting joyes, 
 For passions have extreames, as bairnes have toyes. 
 
 Since Nature then, in floods of teares can melt, 
 For joy of sight, to overjoy their love ; 
 Much more our teares, when we remorse have felt 
 For sinne ; shall glade, the powers in Heaven above : 
 These tears are blest, and make us blest for ever, 
 For godly grief, from grace, no crosse can sever. 
 
 Jobs pati- 1^6* patient Job, be paterne in like case, 
 
 ence and Whosc lossc was such, as ucvcr yet was none : 
 
 Yet shrunk he not, sound steadfast love took place. 
 Faith forc'd his hope, and both proclaim'd in one : 
 Sure my Redeemer lives, and he is just. 
 Though he should kill me, yet in him I'le trust. 
 
 Mine eyes shall see him, and he will me save. 
 As I am confident, he will not faile : 
 Sterne rough calamitie, would me deceave. 
 But that's a shade, my purpose must prevaile : 
 In God my soule is fixt, nought can dismay me, 
 Nay death it selfe, nor Satan can betray me. 
 
 constancy. 
 
 See
 
 of godlie sorrow. 
 
 See ! here the Columnc, of a lively faith ! 
 The type of Christ, in meek and milde behaviour : 
 His friends they slight him, he contemnes his death, 
 And in his miserie, still avowd his Saviour : 
 
 This was a love, excell'd all loves on earth, 
 
 For Christ he lov'd, who lov'd him ere his birth. 
 
 Then how hate I my selfe. If I love not Love the 
 
 My loving Lord, who lov'd me, from his love ; ^^^ ^^^ 
 
 He truely loves, who for thy sake I wot sake. 
 
 Loves thee ; and himseife for thee ; this we prove 
 All kindes of love, without thy love, breed loathing, 
 Unlesse we love them, for thy sake, they're nothing, 
 
 O) 
 
 Great king of glory, all thy works invite ! 
 
 Us to love thee, since thou first loved us : 
 
 As starres do from the Sunne, take light and heat, 
 
 For from that fulnesse. we the like discusse : 
 
 How can our soules ? thine Jmage, want the sight. 
 
 Of thy bright love, whose love is perfect light. 
 
 Lord ! we do all, depend upon thy love. 
 Because our being, had of thee beginning : 
 Next, thou preserves us, as we rest or move, 
 And art our end ; controUs us, when a sinning : 
 
 All what we have, we have receiv'd from thee, 
 
 And what we want, thou wilt the same supply. 
 
 God of love ! thy nature is all love ! 
 
 In love more glorious, than the sunne in light : 
 
 Thou art an infinite fire from above, 
 
 Which here enlightens, with its beames, each wight : Gods love 
 
 A fire of love, a loving fire we finde, 
 A light ! not burnes, a flame, not quels the minde. 
 
 F 2 0! 
 
 our life.
 
 Tlie gushing Teares 
 
 Lord ! if thou thy tender love withdraw : 
 And from us slips one step, to turne thy back : 
 Are we not dead, in sloth and sleep ; no awe ; 
 ' But each temptation, shall presage our wracke : 
 Then Lord uphold us ! since all worldly things 
 Are ever changing, tyme their ruine brings. 
 
 The bre- ^0 day we live, the morne to grave we're sped, 
 vitie of life. "^Te sight this world, as birds by gazers glyde ; 
 As dreams evanish, so our dayes are fled ; 
 Like water bubles, as soone quelld as spyde : 
 
 Thus heart-grown man, ingorgd with pryde and lust, 
 He posts, and posts to death, then turnes in dust. 
 
 To argue on corruption, that subverts 
 The good we would, and choaks our best desires ; 
 It is a senselesse appetite, perverts 
 The light of reason, with entangling fires : 
 A head-strong blinde irregulary ill, 
 That captives wit, and wounds both sense and will. 
 
 Corrupti- Its stroug in all infirmities injust, 
 
 ^° rik Still fraile in goodnesse, weak in sound conception : 
 
 things. Its ruU'd by nature, and her daughter lust. 
 
 Which blinds the light of knowledge, with deception : 
 Like pitch, corruption, blacks the purest soule. 
 And where it comes, makes ev'ry clean thing foule. 
 
 It takes best hold, on imbecillitie. 
 
 And where that fortitude, deficient is, 
 
 It dare not wrestle, with dexteritie. 
 
 Nor count with Temprance, one defective misse : 
 Much like a Eufifian, or a Theefe by night, 
 It loves, and lives in darknesse, more than light. 
 
 Corruption,
 
 of godlie sorrow. 
 
 Corruption, many wayes, may be define!, 
 To be a ^?/c?ra-neck'd HercuUan snake ; 
 Stop'd at the eye, it compasseth the minde, 
 Barr'd from the soule, the heart it soone will take : 
 
 Say, if the eare be deafe, the hand will feele, 
 
 And if it smell not, it can taste too well. 
 
 Corruption, rules most states, and office places, 
 In Church and Common-wealth, it beares great swey : 
 It masks the Merchants, with Giheonitish faces ! 
 And with each trade, it can the harlot play : 
 
 From mighty men to mean, see ! what I sought ? 
 
 I flnde them all corrupt'd, their wayes are nought. 
 
 Corruption, in their brybries, fraught with greed, 
 
 Corruption, in their flesh, subborn'd by lust. The 
 
 rN J.' • ii • r ^^ r A power and 
 
 (Jorruption, m their manners, lull oi need, varieties of 
 
 Corruption, in their sinne, and lives injust : corruption. 
 
 Corruption, in their malice, flankd on pryde, 
 
 Corruption, in their wills, blinde Natures guyde. 
 
 Corruption, in the treachrie of deceat, 
 Corruption, in false weights, and falser measures, 
 Corruption, in vile perjurie, and hate, 
 Corruption, in the hoording up of treasures : 
 
 Corruption in hypocrisie and strife. 
 
 Corruption in a base dissembling life. 
 
 Corruption, (ah !) in justice by the Judge, 
 Corruption, too, in partiall ends 'gainst reason ; 
 Corruption, in the traitour, that dare lodge 
 Corruption, fixt on murder, and high treason : 
 
 Corruption, in oppression, and what then ? 
 
 Corruption, in the lavishnesse of men. 
 
 F 3 Corruption,
 
 The gushing Teares 
 
 Corruption, in forg'd tales, and false reports 
 
 Corruption, in fraile fleshly vile desires ! 
 
 Corruption, in base taunts, and jeering torts. 
 
 Corruption, in despysing naturall Syres : 
 Corruption, (ah \) in negligence and slouth. 
 Corruption, from fond sports, in age or youth. 
 
 Corruption, in ambition, and high looks. 
 Corruption, in straind-selfe contract'd opinions. 
 Corruption, in best learneds, and best books. 
 Corruption, in great Princes, and their Minions : 
 Corruption, in vaine courtly Courtiers stiles. 
 Corruption, in sunk Worldlings greedy wiles. 
 
 Corruption, in abusing outward things. 
 
 Corruption, in vile drunkennesse, and swearing. 
 
 Corruption, in a Wranglers crafty wrings. 
 
 Corruption, in delay, and long forbearing : 
 Corruption, in the ignorance of mindes, 
 Corruption, in best knowledge of all kindes. 
 
 Corruption, in prest complements, and phrases. 
 Corruption, in bad cariage, mask'd with guile. 
 Corruption, in poore flattrers foolish praises, 
 Corruption, in most Pen-men, and their stile : 
 Corruption, in a Sycophantick leyar. 
 Corruption, in the Layers mouth and Pleyar. 
 
 Corruption, in Adultrie, and worse lust, 
 Corruption, in backbyters slandring tongue. 
 Corruption, in lost credit, without trust. 
 Corruption, in the gathering worldly dung : 
 
 Corruption, in blinde filthy Critichs censures. 
 
 Corruption, in mechanick glyding tonsures. 
 
 Corruption,
 
 of godlie sorrow. 
 
 Corruption, in corruption, sinne afords, 
 And ev'ry way corrupt'd, corruption swallowes ; 
 Most grow absurd, corrupting deeds and words ! 
 And in the pudle of corruption wallowes : 
 
 The hollow heart of man, such venome vomites 
 
 Of all corruptions, that they're fixt for Comets. 
 
 All which portend, some grievous dissolution, 
 
 In ev'ry state, a wofull alteration ; 
 
 Sprung from enormities of pollution. 
 
 This land is turnd, the face of desolation : 
 
 Both great and small, the scourge of fortune feele. 
 Whose fates are tost, still round about the Wheele. 
 
 To day a Lord, to morrow fled to warres, 
 
 To day a Laird, to morrow turnd a beggar ; 
 
 To day in wealth, to morrow closd with barres ; 
 
 To day in peace, to morrow swear and swagger : 
 
 To day in farme, to morrow forcd to flee, ^itudTof 
 
 To day puft, up, the morne, cast downe we see. fortune. 
 
 Sinne is the cause, which makes such judgements fall 
 
 On Land-lords now, who still oppresse the poore ; 
 
 They taxe and raxe them, keepe them under thrall, 
 
 That most are forcd, to leave both hold and doore : 
 Whose grounds in end is sold, or else ly waste. 
 Both Tyi'ants, and th' opprest, such changings taste. 
 
 Lord ! save me from this all-corrupted age. 
 Where craft joynes with extortion either hand ; 
 Blood, and oppression, may but passions swage, 
 Strict law and justice, quite forsake this land : 
 
 Men now must gaze, like Souldiers battell broke, 
 
 That looke for aide, else for the fatall stroke. 
 
 Nay,
 
 Tlie gushing Teares 
 
 Nay ; we're corrupt'd, in thought, in word, and deed ! 
 
 Yet of all sinnes, vile drunkennesse is worst : 
 
 It breeds all ill, and of all vice the seed, 
 
 It harbours lust, and makes the Actor curst ; 
 And smothering shame, it wallows in despaire, 
 Where spoiling vertue, seeks examples rare. 
 
 Noah first Qur Patriarch Noah, after the deludge, 
 
 and first Had shuun'd sommersing, of the first drownd World ; 
 
 got druniv gg planted vines for man, healths sound refudge ! 
 Yet made his toyle, the snare wherein he hurld : 
 The grape was sweet and strong, see ! how he sunke ? 
 He graft it first, and first with it was drunk. 
 
 This worlds sole Monarch, of the second age, 
 Who built the Arke, which sav'd him and his race 
 Undrown'd ; Behold ! was tane, and turnd the Page 
 Of glutting Bacchus, senslesse of his cace : 
 
 Was it not strange ! this Columne could decline ! 
 
 That scaping waters, yet was drownd with wine. 
 
 But he, great he ! earths sov'raigne Lord and Father, 
 
 Had no intent, to foxe his sober senses ; 
 
 But tasted, touch'd, and drunk ; then faild, or rather 
 
 He seald his fault, to shelter like offences : 
 
 Not so ; his slip, pleads o'resight unacquainted, 
 And reason would, he tast'd the thing he planted. 
 
 kennesse Like SO, was Lot, cusuar'd, when fled for feare 
 begot in- fj-oni burning; Sodome, and cavernd at night ; 
 
 cest. o ' o J 
 
 Was by his daughters gull'd : They thinking there ! 
 
 The world was gone ; sought to restore the right 
 
 Of natures race : And he stark drunk imbrac'd them, 
 But sure he griev'd, when th' action had defac'd them. 
 
 But
 
 of godlie sorrow. 
 
 But our grosse Drunkards, base pedestriat natures ! 
 
 Will roare and quafFe, old houses, through strait windowes ; 
 
 Blaspheme their Maker, and abuse his Creatures, 
 
 And swear, they'le spend their blond, and carve their sinncwes, 
 
 To beard cold Phehe; then Orlando like. 
 
 Rapt Rodomunting oathes, and Cyclops strike. 
 
 Whose red-ey'd sight, show faces fixt with Comets, The shame- 
 
 Through which (like Vulcan) they would seeme goodfellowes ^^ effects 
 O here he staggers ! and there he wallowing vomits, kennesse. 
 
 And if mischiefe fall out, he courts the gallowes : 
 
 Last, friends and meanes been lost, he's load with curses, 
 Then bends his course to steale, or robbe mens purses. 
 
 What ill can Hell devise ? but Drunkards do it ? 
 All kindes of vice, all kinde of lusts they swallow : 
 For why ? its drunkennesse that spurres them to it, 
 Satan suggests, and they his counsell foUow : 
 
 Then turne they frantick, mad distracted Sots, 
 
 To clout their Conscience, with retorting Pots. 
 
 They lye and surfet, belch, and vomit blood, 
 Yea, ever rammage, brutish, and absurd ; 
 Their beastly manners, loathsome are and rude, 
 Deprav'd of senses, have their wits immurd, 
 
 Benumb'd, debosh'd ; last sunke in beggars brats, 
 
 Eate up with vermine, starve, and die like Rats. 
 
 Worlds of examples, I could here denote. 
 As well in ancient dayes, as moddrne times : 
 What were these Pagans past ? what were they not ? 
 What are our present judgements ? for like crymes ? 
 
 May not their Alcoran, serve to condemne us ? 
 
 If we our selves, would from our selves exam'ne us. 
 
 a May
 
 The gushing Teares 
 
 Beasts and May Dot Philosopheis ? the light of nature ? 
 Convince us, for like riot, and excesse ? 
 Nay, even the beast (unreasonable creature) 
 Stand up and witnesse, of our sensualnesse : 
 They will not once exceed their appetite, 
 But man will surfet, with a deep delite. 
 
 Philoso- 
 phers con- 
 demne ex- 
 cesse. 
 
 In using, we abuse, Gods benefits, 
 And turne his blessings, to an heavie curse ; 
 Surpassing temprance, we confound our wits. 
 No health for body, lesse for soule remorse : 
 All things were made for us, and we for God, 
 But being abus'd, they serve us for his rod. 
 
 Alas ! where reason ? when poore man misknowes 
 The life of knowledge, reason did infuse ; 
 Shall understanding sleep ? shall I suppose 
 That will is weaker, than a strong excuse : 
 
 He knowes (I know) enough that can misknow 
 The thing he knowes, its well, in knowing so. 
 
 No perfe- Well Said Alplionso, (knowledge to expone) 
 hximai^ That all what we could learne, by sight, or show 
 knowledge. By airts, by science, by books to study on. 
 
 Was the least part, of that we did not know : 
 All what we know, we know but in a part, 
 And that failes oft, corruption rules the heart. 
 
 What thou canst know, another doth know more, 
 And what he knowes, is but a glimpsing glance : 
 Who perfect is ? nay none ; who can deplore 
 His weaknesse, ruld by counsell, not by chance ! 
 Mans knowledge, like the shade, is swallowed soone, 
 That hangs between its substance, and the Moone. 
 
 He
 
 of godlie sorrow. 
 
 He knowes the ill, and iu that knowledge rude, 
 And cleaves to vice, as wool! and briers are knit ; 
 Kesolv'd to erre, misknowing what is good, 
 Kejects his soiile ; then in a frantick fit. 
 
 Neglecting God, neglects his owne salvation, 
 
 And quaffing excesse, drinks his own damnation. 
 
 How Lord ! these faults behelpd ! teach me to mourne, 
 
 That being humbled, I may call for grace : 
 
 Let men presumptuous, 'gainst thy judgements spume, 
 
 And in the pudle of their labours trace : 
 
 Save thou my soule, for now my quivering heart, 
 'Twixt feare and hope, stands trembling at sinnes smart. 
 
 A second Jonah, from thy voice I flee, Great de- 
 
 And with shrunke Peter I thy name deny : greatest 
 
 I ^7ia&-like, keep spoil es of sinne for me, Samts. 
 
 And harbour lust, in Lots ebrietie : 
 
 These lookes, that fell, from Sion on a Pond, 
 
 Were not so foule as mine, nor halfe so fond. 
 
 Unworthy I, to lift mine eyes above, 
 Or that the earth, should beare me, undevour'd : 
 Nay, nor my friends, on me to cast their love, 
 Nor saints pray for me, hath the truth deflourd : 
 
 Yet, what God will, it needs must come to passe. 
 
 He looks on what I am, not what I was. 
 
 Let grace take roome, that mercy soone may follow, 
 Kenew my sprite, cleanse my heart from ill ! 
 Thy blood can purge me, though my guilt be hollow ; 
 Faith and repentance, have a piercing will : 
 
 Infuse thy power, Lord strengthen me to turne 
 
 Once to rejoyce, and never more to mourne. 
 
 G2 As
 
 The gushing Teares 
 
 Banids As Daniel, with thy servants three forsooke 
 
 dainties, tt\ r -x -rt i • 
 
 poore To feed on Babels delicates, and wine : 
 tieT^ ^*^° ^^^ water, and poore pulse, they gladly tooke, 
 And yet their faces, did for beauty shine : 
 Lord grant with them, all worldly snares I may 
 Forsake, and learne, to trace thy law, thy way. 
 
 That kingly beast, or beastly king expos'd 
 Seven yeares to fields ; nev'r faild so much as I : 
 Nor these five kings, by Joshua enclos'd. 
 Brought forth, and foot-neckd, shamefully did die : 
 Nev'r vex'd him more (for they their lands defended) 
 Than I am griev'd, for having Grod ofiended. 
 
 That Goslian flight, to a desartuous soile, 
 Through uncouth way, deep seas, laid up in heaps ! 
 Nev'r reft from Egypt^ such a swallowed spoile. 
 With greater right (for now my soule it weeps) 
 Then Gods just judgements, might on me befall, 
 Unlesse his mercy soone prevent my fall. 
 
 These wandrings long, which Israel did recoyle, 
 Tost to and fro, in vast Arahian bounds ; 
 Full fourty yeares they spent, for twelve dayes toyle, 
 Starv'd, slaine, and quell'd, still galld by savage wounds : 
 This crosse they bore, for grieving God so oft. 
 But (ah !) my sinnes, for plagues do cry aloft. 
 
 g Now having seene, rude Lyhians, nak'd, and bare, 
 
 are better Sterne barbrous Arahs, savage Sabunchs od ; 
 chrLians Sword-sweying Turkes, and faithlesse Jews alwhere, 
 Base ruvid Berdoans, godlesse of a God : 
 Yet when from me, on them I cast mine eye. 
 My life I finde, farre worse, then theirs can be. 
 
 The
 
 of godlie sorrow. 
 
 The rustick Moorish, sterne promiscuous sexe, 
 
 Nor GaroUncs, idolatrizing shame ; 
 
 The Turcomans, that even the Divell doe vexe ! 
 
 In ofFring up, their first-borne, to his name : 
 Nor Jamnifes, with their foolish Garlick god, 
 Are worse then I, nor more deserve thy rod. 
 
 Yet Lord ! with Thee, there's mercy ; and its true, 
 Thou art not wonne, with multitude of words, 
 Its force of tears from us, thy pitie sue, 
 Which thou regards, and pardon us afords : 
 For words are formed, by the tongue, but tears, 
 Speak from the heart, which thou most kindlie heares. 
 
 Use then few words (0 silly soule) but weepe, 
 This is the heavenly language, and strong voice. 
 That calls to God ; for he our teares shall keep 
 Fast bottled in his pittie : Makes the choise 
 
 Of teares ; few words, let sighs, and sobs display. 
 Thine inward grief; then tears beginne to pray. 
 
 In prayer 
 use few- 
 words and 
 many tears. 
 
 Lord ! thou wouldst not, to Herod speak, nor yet 
 Would answer Ptlat, urgd by humane power ; 
 But soone thou spoke, when weeping women set 
 Their eyes on Thee ; and streames of teares did powre 
 These Judges sought, advantage for thy dittie, 
 But Sions daughters, weept for Thee in pittie. 
 
 These great mens words, did reach but to thine eares, 
 But their warme drops, did pierce Thee to thine heart ; 
 Lord ! thou takes care on them, and on their teares. 
 Who mourne for others, when the righteous smart : 
 But farre more pittie, on the sinfull soule, 
 That mournes for sinne, and wailes her errours foule. 
 
 G 3 
 
 Christs si- 
 lence, and 
 patience. 
 
 Oh!
 
 The gushing Teares 
 
 Oh ! that my head were waters ! and mine eyes ! 
 A source of teares, to weep both day and night ; 
 The peoples sinnes, with theirs, mine owne disease, 
 Which greater growes, than I beare have might : 
 
 Such flouds of teares, would then my grief disclose ! 
 
 In airie vapours, flanck'd with watrie woes. 
 
 This worlds a valley, of perpetuall teares, 
 And what's the Scripture ? but a springing well 
 Of gushing teares ? iiow'd from remorse and feares ; 
 For godly sorrow, must with Mourners dwell : 
 And who can mourne, unlesse that grace begin 
 To worke repentance ; this grief expiats sin. 
 
 Davids All night could David, wet with tears his couch, 
 his couch. And Prophets for the faults, of Israel mourne : 
 
 But (ah !) good God, when shall mine eyes avouch 
 Such happy teares, that may with Thee sojourne : 
 If not thy judgements, yet thy gracious love. 
 Might melt mine eyes, and Ponds of sorrow move. 
 
 Thou saidst, I will, compassion have on all, 
 
 That pleaseth me, compassion, for to show ; 
 
 Be pleas'd thy love, may me redeeme from thrall, 
 
 Free will to pardon, thine ; the debt I owe : 
 How soone soev'r a sinner, should repent him, 
 Thou swore in truth, thou wouldst no longer shent him. 
 
 Lord ! grant my minde, may second these my words, 
 And not invent, more than I practice can ; 
 If I deficient prove, good will afords 
 My sacrifice ; obedience is the man : 
 
 Did not Abraham, this point paternize, 
 
 Whose purpose, was, held for a sacrifice. 
 
 David
 
 of godlie sorrow. 
 
 David resolv'd, on Sions lower flat, 
 To build a Temple, for the living Lord : 
 A daughter cloure, joynd with Jehosophat, 
 Benorthd, with Moriahs, squink devalling bord : 
 The Lord accept'd the minde, his thought was to it, 
 And said, Thy sonne, but not thy selfe shall do it. 
 
 The widows myte, was thankfully receiv'd, 
 
 Good wills a sacrifice ; this seldome failes ; 
 
 The will, although the purpose be deceiv'd, 
 
 Is not to blame, the good intent prevailes : God ac- 
 
 The Lord accepts, even of the least desire 3*fo?'' 
 
 We have to serve him, though we faint or tire. the deed. 
 
 When Jacob had, twice ten yeares Lahan serv'd, 
 Yet Lahan, would have sent him empty gone : 
 But he who serves the Lord, though he hath swerv'd, 
 Shall not misse his reward, nor go alone : 
 
 The sprite of grace, shall second him, and love, 
 
 Shall fill his soule, his faith shall mount above. 
 
 Then forward go, so runne you may obtaine, 
 
 Great is the prise, hold out the journeys end ; 
 
 Keep course, and runne, thou'le get a glorious gaine, 
 
 He who endures, shall ouely there ascend : 
 
 Rise eare, when young, and runne, betimes then do it. 
 Who gets the start, and holds, shall first come to it. 
 
 The journeys long, the path is straight, and thornes 
 
 Ly in the way, to prick thee, on both sides : 
 
 Sinne like a Traitour, hourely thee subbornes, 
 
 To misse the marke, and blinde thee, with crosse guides : 
 
 Yet constant runne, runne on, and be not sory, 
 
 So rune thou mayst obtaine, a crowne of glory. 
 
 We
 
 The gushing Teares 
 
 We see, for a light prise, a man will runne 
 His utmost speed ; and often loose his paines ; 
 That Caledonian hunter, never wonne 
 By strife of foote, a hare was all his gaines : 
 
 But he who runs this course, shall earne a treasure, 
 The butte of Heaven, must be his marke and measure. 
 
 Then blest is he ! keeps dyet, for this race ! 
 m^Physi- ^^^ ^^^ ^^^^ soule, to take coelestiall physick ; 
 cian. Faith is the compound, and the potion grace, 
 
 Christ the Physician, mercy our soules musick : 
 Then pardon seeks our suite, last, love crownes all. 
 And raignes with glory, rivalls in one saule. 
 
 For this prepare thy selfe, since our short dayes 
 
 Are but a blast ; and yet our longest time 
 
 Is scarce a thought ; Looke ! what experience sayes. 
 
 That space, 'twixt wombe and Tombe, (0 falling slyme !) 
 
 Is but a point, then see ! and not suspend, 
 
 A happy life, must have an happy end. 
 
 Our day of death, excells our day of birth. 
 And better wer't, with mourning folks to live, 
 Than like to fooles, that in the house of mirth 
 Would passe their time, and would that time survive : 
 Relenting cryes, all times more needfull growes, 
 Than laughing feasts : blest are all godly woes. 
 
 The inso- How vaiue are frolick youths ? to spend their prime ? 
 leacie of Jq wantounessc and slouth, lust galling joyes : 
 They quite forget, the substance of base slime, 
 Till rotten age, ramverse their masked toyes : 
 And then diseases, hang about their bones. 
 To plague their flesh with sores, their hearts with groanes. 
 
 The
 
 of godlie sorrow. 
 
 The concupiscence, of youths sqink-laid eye, 
 Which lust begets, and inflamation brangles, 
 Is but the bait, invelops luxurie, 
 To follow practice, custome still entangles : 
 
 The eye supports the thought, the thought desire, 
 
 And then corruption, sets delight on fire. 
 
 Yet youth remember, in thy dayes of youth ! 
 
 Thy sole Creator, remember thou must die ! 
 
 Lest that these dayes may come, when helplesse ruth, 
 
 Shall say. No pleasure in them, thou canst see : 
 
 Remember ! in thy youth ! youth remember ! 
 
 Thy Christ and Maker, thou maist be his member. 
 
 Shall youth take pleasure, in vaine wantonnesse, 
 
 And with his fleshly lusts, go serve the Divell : 
 
 Then when growne old, in midst of rottennesse. 
 
 Would turne to God, and shunne his former evill : 
 This cannot be, when thou canst sinne no more, 
 Thou wouldst serve God, whom thou didst hate before. 
 
 Dare thou example take, of the good thief, 
 
 Nay, Christ was once, for all but sacrifiz'd : Delay in 
 
 This can not ground thy faith, nor lend relief, t^li^T 
 
 That one Thiefs mercy, thine is paterniz'd : rous. 
 
 Can thou repent at will, choose time, and place, 
 Nay, that falls short, its God who gives the grace. 
 
 Is any sure, when death shall call him hence, 
 Nothing more certaine, more uncertaine too ; 
 Time, place, and how, concernes Gods providence : 
 Then arme thy selfe, take heed, what thou shouldst do ? 
 
 Bridle thy youth, amend thy life, repent, 
 
 Such fruit is pleasant, from thy spring-tyde sent. 
 
 H The
 
 The gushing Teares 
 
 The morne is cooler, than the sun-scorch'd day, 
 The tender juice, more sweeter then old sap : 
 The flowry grasse, more fresh than withred hay ? 
 The floorish fairer, than the Tronke, we trap : 
 So dayes of youth, more sav'rie are to God, 
 Than crooked age, all crooked wayes have trode. 
 
 Would thou live well, and live to live for aye, 
 Beginne at God, obey his word, and law : 
 Love, feare, and serve him, make him all thy stay, 
 Honour thy Parents, of the Judge stand awe : 
 
 And neighbour love conserve : But ah ! this age ! 
 
 Can show none such, but rot with lust and rage. 
 
 The sin-flowne Dolphin, after flying fish, 
 
 Nev r swim'd so swift, as youth hunt after lust ; 
 
 They dip presumption in a poysond dish, 
 
 And fearlesse tumble, in a fearfuU gust : 
 
 They wrestle not to wrest, but strives with strife 
 To humour pleasures, in their head-strong life. 
 
 Its incident to youth, to mock old age, 
 Youth and And usuall too for age, to jeere at youth : 
 a^eeing.^' The One he dotes, the other playes the page, 
 
 A fondling foxd, with wantonnesse and slouth : 
 Yet age is best, because experience schooles him, 
 And youth is worst, cause vice and pleasure fooles him. 
 
 Then 'twixt them both, the golden meane is best, 
 Neither too young, nor doting dayes are good : 
 Yet happy both, if faithfully they rest 
 With confidence, fixt on their Saviours bloud : 
 For it can purge the old, of what is past. 
 And cleanse the young, post after sinne so fast. 
 
 Both
 
 of godlie sorrow. 
 
 Both Timothie and Titus, others moe, 
 
 Of rarest worth, though young, their youth-head chaind 
 
 In cords of temperance ; made vertue grow 
 
 In fortitude ; by which they glory gaind : 
 Nay ; Alexander, in the prime of youth, 
 Was wondrous chast, till strangers taught him slouth. 
 
 The Persian manners spoild him : But behold ! Continen- 
 
 What good Aurelius said, the Romane King ? gans^om- 
 
 If I were sure, that lust were not controld, mended. 
 
 Nor punishd by the gods, above which ring : 
 Yet for the fact it selfe, I will disprove it, 
 'Cause why ? its filthy, base, and who can love it. 
 
 Would God ! that younglings, and the fry of nature, 
 Could so resolve, and play the Pagans part ; 
 Yea, old and young, and ev'ry humane Creature ! 
 In this were blest, to take these words to heart : 
 
 Then modestie should live, Religion flourish, 
 
 And good example, one, another nourish. 
 
 A noble youth, been askd, whether he went ? 
 Reply 'd ; he to the house of teares did go ; 
 To mourne with Mourners, that he might lament, 
 And learne to weep, when he did older groe : 
 
 If hethnicks can show Christians such instruction. 
 
 Our blind-set eyes, had need of their conduction. 
 
 Who sowe in teares, shall surely reape in joy, 
 For godly griefe, shall blessednesse inherit : 
 They who thus mourne, and thus their soules imploy, 
 Are firmely shelterd, under Jesus merit : 
 
 Who shall transchange, their griefe, in glorious gladnesse. 
 
 True happinesse expells, all sorrowing sadnesse. 
 
 H 2 Blest
 
 Tlie gushing Teares 
 
 A brief Blest were these teares, were spent, neare CajapTis house ! 
 
 tract of 
 bitter re- 
 
 By Peter griev'd, for imbecilitie, 
 pentance. Brought downe so low he was, nought could arrouze 
 
 His hope, for pardon, of infirmitie : 
 
 Yard-closde alone, he weept, and wofull hee, 
 With dolefull cryes, thus spoke, on flexed knee. 
 
 Have I (would he have said) deny'd my Lord, 
 With triple oathes, before the Cocke crew twice : 
 Which he foretold ; ah ! feare my faith had smord ! 
 His looks accusd me, I had done it thrice : 
 Was it not I, who vowd with him to die. 
 And now forsworne, I from my Master flee. 
 
 Was I not Cephas, lately thought a Rock ? 
 And now the tongue, of a base serving maide. 
 Hath made me shrinke, and turne a stumbling block 
 We were but twelve, and one hath him betraide ; 
 And I (as worst) have sworne, I knew him not, 
 Mov'd by the voice, of a weake womans throat. 
 
 ! that a Drudge ! should thus prevaile 'gainst me. 
 Who serves for wage, to him the Altar serv'd : 
 A slendrer weed, could no poore Hireling be, 
 And yet o're me shee triumphs ; I have swerv'd : 
 This was Gods will, and now its come to passe. 
 To show my weaknesse, with a weaker lasse. 
 
 Its strange ! two Drudges made me falter thrice, 
 With quivring oathes, and shivring words deny 
 The Lord of life : How could such hounds surprise 
 My stedfast love ? and not with him to die : 
 No Judge controird me, yet two slavish snakes, 
 Fill'd me with feare, with it, my Lord forsakes. 
 
 How
 
 confesHioii. 
 
 of godlie sorrow. 
 
 How fraile was I and fragile, to succumbe ? 
 
 Mine hopes, unto such Wranglers void of grace ; 
 
 I might have silence kept, and so sit dumbe, Peten 
 
 Till Cajaphas had tryde me, having place : 
 
 But I a Weakling, to a stragling sound, 
 
 Forsooke my vow, and did my selfe confound. 
 
 A silly fisher wretch, (no lesse he thought) 
 Was I, when God, from slaverie did me call ; 
 And now to shrunke infirm itie am brought. 
 Worse then Judaick law, from Christ to faU : 
 
 Who me select'd, to leave my nets, and* when. 
 
 He said. Thou shal'st, a fisher be of men. 
 
 How shall I answer make ? what shall I doe ? 
 
 His sighs, thus sobd, for groanes, and melting eyes, 
 
 Were all his words : Or whats my kindred too ? 
 
 So base neare Sydon borne ? that my degrees 
 By birth were nought, but fisher men and fooles, 
 The scumme of Nature, liv'd by warbling tooles. 
 
 Was I a chosen Vessel, thus to shrinke. 
 When erst in Gethsemane, my sword I drew : 
 And now beginnes, to flatter, lye, and winke, 
 Yea ; failes and falls, with words, and oathes untrue : 
 
 I might have with, my fellow flyers fled, 
 
 But I would follow, and forsake my Head. 
 
 Love bade me venter, feare bade me stay back. 
 Faith forcelesse fled, a farre I followed on him ; 
 Poore fainting I, though forward now falls slack, 
 I went to see, what doome, they gave upon him : 
 
 Where courting Cajaphs fire (0 snaring sinne !) 
 
 Warming without, too cold I grew within. 
 
 H 3 I might
 
 The gushing Teares 
 
 I might have fled, to hide me in some cave, 
 But curious I, would swallow shame and feare : 
 Could I sustaine his crosse, his death and grave ? 
 To suffer that, which nature could not beare : 
 All helpfull he ! would he crave help unto it, 
 Nay, fond was I, to thinke that man could do it. 
 
 Alone would he ! ! all sufficient he ! 
 Straight undergoe, his fathers hote displeasure : 
 Both Grod and Man, our Lord behovd to be, 
 So weighty was that wrath, laid up in treasure 
 
 For sinfull man ; but he all-conquering he ! 
 
 Triumph'd o're Hell, got us the victorie. 
 
 Peters re- ^7 Lord, but spoke, Wliom seek ye ? (0 strong power !) 
 prehend- And backwards fell, the Sergeants on the ground ; 
 ' He knew, confess'd, it was their time, his houre, 
 For so his love, to mankinde did abound : 
 
 That as by Man, all flesh, accursd, should dye. 
 Even so by man, all should redeemed bee. 
 
 Was I not witnes, to his word, and deed ? 
 
 His miracles and mercies, workes of loue ; 
 
 The Dumbe did speake, the Deaf did heare, the dead, 
 
 Hee raysd to lyfe ; the Criples straight did moue ; 
 The Palseyes, Paraliticks, withred hands, 
 Hee helpd, and heald ; the blynd their sight commands. 
 
 Was hee not Christ, the Lambe, the sonne of God ! 
 Whom I confessd, even face to face afore ; 
 My soules Messias ! who bore that heavy loade 
 Of Indignation ; sinners to restore : 
 
 Both sacrifice, and Sacrificer plight ! 
 
 A wondrous mercy, set before my sight. 
 
 For
 
 tears con- 
 summated 
 
 of godlie sorrow. 
 
 For which ; vile worme, how could my lips deny ? 
 The Lord of glore, my life, my love, my light ; 
 Was he not there ? and was not I hard by ? 
 When that his looke, gave me this sorrowing night : 
 
 Yet when my soules sharp eyne, saw what was done, 
 
 My carnall eyes, in floods of teares did runne. 
 
 Faith wrought repentance, grace laid hold on grace, Peters 
 
 My bitter streames, like brine, extreamly gush'd : 
 I wrung my hands, and knock'd my breast apace, in peace 
 
 Whilst sighes, sad sobs, from deep-fetchd groanings rushd : 
 
 Then joy appeard, my conscience was assurd. 
 
 The fault was pardond, and my soule securd. 
 
 Thus Peter shrunke, his soule was humbled low, 
 (Not like to Popes, who his succession claime) 
 He sorrowing fell, and made contrition show 
 That he had faild : So did himself disclaime 
 
 From first election, and from former grace. 
 
 And causd remorse, give sad repentance place. 
 
 Then teares, bitter teares ! relenting woes ! 
 
 And airie vapours, from salt-raining eyes ; 
 
 Made windy sighes, and trembling groanes disclose 
 
 His lip-lost fall, the cause of his unease, 
 
 Thus teares are blest, which godly sorrow brings. 
 Each drop doth serve thy soule, to heaven for wings. 
 
 Though tears distill, and trickle downe thy cheeks, 
 
 So vanish quite, and seeme to thee as lost : 
 
 Their aire ascends, thy heart to God then speaks ! The bies- 
 
 He harbours all, and is a gracious host : ^^ godly* 
 
 The Font he loves, and thats remorse for sinne, tears. 
 
 Which his grace works, before thou canst beginne. 
 
 Lord !
 
 The gushing Teares 
 
 Lord ! frame my will to thine, and forme my heart, 
 
 To serve and feare thee, raagnifie thy name ; 
 
 In this obedience, thou mayst grace impart, 
 
 For from thy favour, I must comfort claime ; 
 
 Grant me thine inward peace, refresh my minde, 
 With sparkes of love, let sighs thy mercy finde. 
 
 All Mortals are, by nature miserable. 
 Then mourning is the habit, we should weare ; 
 Who sinne deplores, his case is comfortable, 
 Yet none can shunne, prest natures sorrowing feare : 
 Flee where thou wilt, thou shalt not finde reliefe. 
 Though thou changst place, thou canst not change thy grief. 
 
 Mortaiitie This life is but a Font, of springing teares. 
 
 la miser- 
 able. 
 
 Weeping wee come, into this world, with cryes ; 
 And veeping we go out, fraught full of feares, 
 There's nought but sorrow, in our journey lyes : 
 For whilst within, this vaile of teares we bide. 
 We're load with mourning, griefe is Natures guide. 
 
 Jacob been ask'd, by Pharo of his age, 
 Eeply'd, that few, and evill, were the dayes 
 Of his abode, in fleshly pilgrimage : 
 He gave this life, no better stile nor praise : 
 
 Then sure we're strangers, wandring here and there, 
 On this worlds stage, each acting lesse or mair. 
 
 Mails a 
 
 pilgrime 
 
 here. 
 
 Nay, we are pilgrimes here, tost to and fro. 
 There's no place permanent, on earth below : 
 Our dwelling is above, then let us goe 
 To th' heavenly Canaan, where all joyes flow : 
 
 Jerusalem, Jerusalems above, 
 
 A glorious staunce, where sits the King of love. 
 
 Its
 
 of godlie sorrow. 
 
 Its not Judeas citie, built with hands, 
 The holy grave, and Calvarie containes ; 
 With Moriah, where Scd'mons Temple stands, 
 Nor Sions seat, where Davids Towre remaines, 
 
 Nor Pilats Hall, with farre moe relicks rare, 
 
 This City is eternall, great, and faire. 
 
 Nor is it compass'd, with Jeliosophat, 
 And on the south, with strait Geliinnons valley ; 
 Nor on the north, with Ennons den halfe flat, 
 Nor wall'd about, lest Arabs it assaillie : 
 
 This Citie is, impregnable, and more. 
 
 Its fenc'd about, with everlasting power. 
 
 Indeed like Olivet, it overtops 
 
 This squink Hehraick citie ; and exceUs q^j. j^^^. 
 
 All earthly Mansions, which destruction lops ^eniy Je- 
 
 With fatall ruine : what sounding knells ? 
 
 Fall from this fabrick. Angels singing musick ! 
 
 To lure our soules, to take coelestiall physick. 
 
 Then come stress'd thou, who loaden is and weary, 
 And here refresh, thy fatigating soule : 
 Make haste, and come ; and now no longer tarry ! 
 Lest others barre Thee, from Bethesdaes Poole ; 
 
 When grace would touch thy sprite, thy heart is troubled 
 
 But be not slow, lest losse on losse be doubled. 
 
 Consider Lord ! these times wherein we live ! 
 And barken to, thy chosen deare Elect ; 
 Let Israel joy, and thine enemies grieve, 
 No time good God, their sacrifice neglect ; 
 
 But heare, and help them, guard them round about. 
 
 With heavenly hosts, and thine Angelick rout. 
 
 I Looke
 
 The gushing Teares 
 
 Sions tears. Looke downe on thy stress'd Sion, and her teares, 
 And bottle up her woes, within the Urne 
 Of thy remembrance : Grievous grow her feares ! 
 By Wolves in Lambskins, topsolturvie turne : 
 Most fearfull seeme, these whirlewindes of time : 
 Bred from the base, seditious dregs of slime. 
 
 Such wound her sides, but can not dimme her light, 
 
 The blood of Saints, is her espousall seed ; 
 
 When darkest stormes, would theat to bring downe night, 
 
 Thy spouse triumphs, in Christ her soveraigne head : 
 No winde so high, nor wave so great, but grace. 
 Can calme sterne blasts, when thou seest time and place. 
 
 When Man is snard by sinne, and seemes as lost. 
 Then Grod drawes neare, and makes his Sprite prepare 
 The soule for grace : So when forlorne or crost, 
 Christs Church appeares, that even her Saints despaire : 
 Then comfort comes, the Lord will not exile her, 
 Nor let the spight and craft, of men defile her. 
 
 Sions Pure like the gold is she, and christall cleare, 
 
 beauty. White as the snow, and sweeter than the hony ; 
 
 Thy virgine Spouse, most neare to Thee and deare ! 
 Is farre more precious, than ten Worlds of money : 
 The silver-fornace tryde, is not so fine, 
 Nor halfe so sweet, tasts Bethimosean wine. 
 
 Sions Lord ! looke upon her crosses, and relieve 
 
 crosses. Her troubled Saints for Thee, and for thy Sonne : 
 
 She springs through briers, and 'mongst sharpe thorns doth live 
 Like to the Kose, in midst of thistles wonne : 
 Her bloudy foes confound, protect her Saints, 
 Erect, maintaine their zeale ; Lord heare their plaints. 
 
 Faire
 
 of godlie sorrow. 
 
 Faire is thy sister, sweet thy Spousall love, 
 Her sent is bundled Myrrhe, fixt on her breasts : 
 She's thine cled with thy power, thine harmelesse Dove ! 
 For in the Garden, of thy grace, she feasts : 
 
 Come clasp her in thine armes ! come gracious Lord ! 
 
 And shew thy Virgin Queene, misericord. 
 
 Bed shines the blush of Sions fragrant flowres, 
 Greene spring her boughs, like Lihan Cedars tall ; 
 Swift flee her wings, to court her Paramours, 
 Knowne to her friends, but never knowne to all : 
 Whose purple Roabes are pure, and finer farre. 
 Then Tyrians wore, ere they were sackt by warre. 
 
 Like the Apple, in midst of Forrest trees, 
 Thy Welbeloveds so, 'mongst sonnes of Men : 
 The fairest 'mongst Women, with radiant eyes. 
 Would succour have, to save her from the Den 
 
 Of darknesse black : Lift up thy face and see ! 
 
 The spices, and ripe fruit of her fig-tree. 
 
 Whose breasts are like two twinnes, 'mongst Lillies fed, 
 Her rosie cheeks, more brighter than the Sunne : 
 One marke she beares, that in the soule is bred, 
 Another badge, lasts till our glasse be runne : 
 
 The thirds a sparke, that mounts to Heaven above, 
 The light of Saints, the love of endlesse Love. 
 
 Her richest garment, truth and righteousnesse, 
 
 And thats broudred, wit,h mercy, grace, and peace ; 
 
 Faithfull in aU, and patient in distresse ; 
 
 Constant to stand ; unchangeable of pace : 
 And yet her beauty. Heavens no fairer fixe. 
 Than mens tradition, would the same ecclipse. 
 
 I 2 She's
 
 The gushing Teares 
 
 She's Catholick now, not ty'd to a place, 
 As Jewrie land, where God was onely knowne ; 
 Christs Church, points forth the Universe ; for grace, 
 Came with th'Evangel, peace to Pagans showne : 
 The Gentiles then were call'd, as well as Jews, 
 For mercy came with Jesus ; Gospell news. 
 
 SiiifuU 
 lust sud- 
 dain dark- 
 nesse. 
 
 And yet there many darknesse love, than light, 
 For sinne craves silence, and umbragious places ; 
 The clouds their covert, and their friend the night, 
 The day their foe, their Darling obscure faces : 
 
 Thus blinde inveigling vice, turnes darknesse darke, 
 For jet-black sin, can dim their foggy warke. 
 
 Too many darknesse love, so sinne provides. 
 That blinded eyes, must follow blinde tradition : 
 Blinde are they bred, but blinder far their guides, 
 Who maske poore Ignorants, with superstition : 
 
 Whose Church maintaines, false miracles and treason, 
 Blood, murther, incest, powder plots, and poyson. 
 
 Besides this Church idolatrous, and drunk 
 
 With indulgence and pardons. Policies, 
 
 At Limhus forgd : Absurd for gaine ; and sunk 
 
 In Purgatories, avarice, and lyes : 
 
 There other orient Churches, erre, and fall. 
 From Gospell truth ; they know it not at all. 
 
 The MtJiiopian, Abbasins, the Moore, 
 ^'Egyptian Copties ; Chelfanes, Georgians, Greeks, 
 Nostrans, Si/riacks, Jacobines, what more ? 
 Grosse Armenians, th' Amaronite, that seeks 
 Talp-drawne ignorance : all of which do swerve. 
 Tradition is the mistresse, whom they serve. 
 
 I could
 
 of godlie sorrow. 
 
 I could dive here, iu their distract'd conceit, 
 
 And blinde surmises, sowne these parts abroad : 
 
 But I suspend ; yet here's a dangerous state, 
 
 To cast opinions, on the face of God : 
 
 Their Patriarchs like themselves, do play the foole, 
 That will not square Religion, with Christs rule. 
 
 ! if I could with Jeremie lament ! 
 The worlds great errours, and my fallings too : 
 And with grievd Ninivie, in time repent ! 
 Lest with my slippings, justice me undo : 
 
 Thrice happy were I, in this resolution, 
 
 Ere death enhaunce my life, bring dissolution. 
 
 Yet soule despaire not, God is mercifull, mercy! ° 
 
 Long suffring, patient, full of kinde compassion : 
 
 His love to Man, is passing plentifull, 
 
 Whose grace and mercy, flow on our confession : 
 
 For if one teare for sinne, fall from our eyes, 
 
 He's pleas'd to pardon our infirmities. 
 
 How gracious then is God ? how rich I say ? 
 Is Christs redemption, fraught with saving bloud : 
 If we have faith in him, if we can pray ? 
 And lift our eyes, fixt on the holy Rude : 
 
 And then to suffer, in our zeale those pangs. 
 
 Our Saviour thold, in this our welfare hangs. 
 
 My merit is thy mercy, that's the end ! 
 
 Although good works, they are the way to heaven : 
 
 Yet not the cause, why I may there ascend. 
 
 That in thy love remaines, makes mine oddes eaven : 
 
 For if thou hadst not dyed ? what had I beene ? 
 
 And if not risen ? what had my soule seen ? 
 
 I 3 Thou
 
 Tlie gushing Teares 
 
 Thou wilt not gracions God, break the bruisde reed, 
 Nor quench the smoaking flaxe ; for said thou hast, 
 That if our sinnes, were dy'd in scarlet red ! 
 Thou'le make them white as snow, to let us taste 
 Of grace and gladnesse : 'Cause the broken heart 
 Thou'le not reject ; contrition would concert. 
 
 Lord ! thou ordaind, that death no flesh should shunne, 
 Cause why ? it was, the doome and curse of sinne ; 
 And so the punishment, of thy deare Sonne, 
 Which for our sakes, thy judgements cast him in : 
 That as the Divell, prevailed by a Tree, 
 So by a Tree, his power should vanquish'd be. 
 
 Then let the sight, of thy transgressions rude, 
 Draw drops of teares, from thine inunding eyes ; 
 Since they did draw, so many drops of bloud 
 From thy Redeemers wounds ; thy soule to ease : 
 And looke what David said, in faith and feare, 
 His sinnes were heavier, then his back could beare. 
 
 Then great was that sad burden Jesus bore, 
 In soule and body, to extirpe this curse ; 
 His Father's wrath ; our punishment therefore ; 
 Christs Our endlesse doome ; eteruall his secourse : 
 passion jjig agonies, our happinesse implord, 
 
 our^sa va- ^.^ bloody swect, our detriments restord. 
 
 As in a garden, first our sinne began, 
 So in a Garden, our redemption sprung : 
 That in like place, where Adam, the first Man 
 Was by the Serpents craft, exactly stung : 
 So, so, in Gethsemaine, the Lord of light, 
 Triumph'd o're sinne, put Satan to the flight. 
 
 Then
 
 teares. 
 
 of godlie sorrow. 
 
 Then Christ is that pure glasse, wherein we spie 
 Our wants, our faults, or what amisse is done ; 
 Within, instruction, without, examples lye, 
 Here death proclaimd, and there salvation : 
 
 The lists are set, then how can we coroe in. 
 
 But by repentance, sorrowing for sin. 
 
 How precious were these tears of Magdalen ? 
 
 Who washt Christs feet, with eye-repenting drops ; Magdalens 
 
 Yea, with her haire, did dry these feet agen, 
 
 And kiss'd them, with her lip-bepearled chops : 
 Last, did anoint them, with a costly oyle. 
 For which the Traitour Judas, checkd such spoile. 
 
 Thrice sacred worke ! but more blest oyle and teares. 
 Spent in the presence, of her soules Kedeemer, 
 To expiat sinne : Whom now the dead endeares 
 To be a Saint ; for so did Christ esteeme her : 
 
 And for which love, its memorie should last, 
 
 From age to age, till all ages be past. 
 
 Besides her OAvne salvation, she became, 
 
 A dayly follower, to her Lord and Master ; 
 
 Yea, ministred things needfull ; fed zeales flame 
 
 With heavenly food, whereof she was a taster : 
 Nay, to his death and grave, she never left him, 
 And witnesse bore, how thence his Godhead reft him. 
 
 Came not kinde Marij ? weeping to his grave ? 
 To looke for Christ, but could not finde him there ; 
 The Angell spoke, and ask'd, Whom would you have ? 
 Said she. To see my Lord, is all my care. 
 
 But he's not here ! (alas !) he's stolne away ! 
 
 And where he's laid, I know not, nor what way. 
 
 The
 
 The gushing Teares 
 
 The winding-sheet she found, clos'd at both ends, 
 And close by the Tombe side, she sate her downe : 
 She sought, she felt, she search'd, and still suspends, 
 He was, and was not there : back to the towne 
 She bends her face, yet staid, and cry'd, and wept, 
 My Lord is stolne, whom souldiers watch'd, and kept. 
 
 The heavie stone roll'd back, which fourty men, 
 
 Could scarce advance ; yet where's my loving Lord ? 
 
 rie runne and tell, let the Apostles ken ! 
 
 What villanies this night, the Jews afford : 
 
 Yet gone, she soone turnd back, love masterd heart, 
 For from the Sepulchre, she would not part. 
 
 Nor did darke midnight fright her, nor the sight 
 Of two bright Angels, set at either end 
 Of his interrement ; nor their words afright 
 Her mourning zeale ; whose scope did deeper tend, 
 To seeke the Lord, who gave her light and grace, 
 And till she found liim, would not leave the place. 
 
 At last Christ, in, a humane shape appear'd. 
 Whom she mistooke, and for a Gardner deemd : 
 Christ re- Said he. Why wepst thou ? whom seekst thou ? she feard, 
 veals him- g^id, Tell mc, if, thou stole him, us redeemd : 
 Mary Then Jesus nam'd Mary ; she turnes about, 
 
 Magdalen. ^^^ ^^^,^ Rahhoni, with a joyfull shout. 
 
 This lessons us, that when we fast or pray, 
 We should not faint, but hope our suite shall speed : 
 He'le come, and come in time, though he delay. 
 Our suite he'le grant, thou we mistake the deed : 
 Then Jf«r?/-like, let faith, charge hope, and do it, 
 Faile not, be instant, grace shall bring thee to it. 
 
 Christ,
 
 of godlie sorrow. 
 
 Christ, from the worldly wise and great, kept back 
 These mysteries, wliicli silly ones did see : 
 And why ? his will, did this poors woman take. 
 To witncsse that he rose, and rose on hie : 
 
 That by his resurrection, we might rise, 
 
 To cut the clouds, and rent the azure skies. 
 
 As mines of gold and silver, still are found 
 
 On barren Hills, and scurrile fruitlesse parts : 
 
 So faith, so feare, so zeale, Religion sound ! 
 
 Are chiefly plac'd, and fixt, in poore mens hearts : 
 Did not Christs wisedome, this foresee, and choosd 
 The scummes of Nature, whom the world refusd. 
 
 liOrd ! grant with Magdalen, I spend my teares ! 
 With sighing sadnesse, to implore thy pittie ; 
 That when my conscience, shall be void of feares, 
 I then may know, thou hast destroy'd my dittie : 
 
 Speake peace, I pray thee, to this soule of mine. 
 
 Since what I have, is all, and onely thine. 
 
 As fire reserves, two properties well mixt. Fire hath 
 
 The one to warme, the other light to shoe : pTrtier 
 
 So mercy hath two branches, better fixt. 
 Love to give peace, and pardon to forgoe : 
 
 For pittie rules the helme, and Mans distresse 
 
 Craves calme, in midst, of stormie wickednesse. 
 
 Like so, are troubles, th' whetstone that doth square 
 
 Stress'd hearts with prayer ; humble them most low : 
 
 Why ? cause adversities, they still prepare 
 
 The soule with patience, to sustaine the blow : 
 All crosses to the just, their well intend. 
 The cause being Christs, their sufirings in him end. 
 
 K Thou
 
 The gushing Teares 
 
 Thou Joy of joyes, sweeter farre than sweetnesse, 
 Thy mercy is that bahne, which heales my sores : 
 Thou peace, and pittie, oynt my wounds with wetnesse, 
 No drouth of sinne, can chink, my weeping gores : 
 Why ? cause each sinne, begets a source of teares, 
 When sinne evapourats, then grace appeares. 
 
 Then pardon, fraught with pittie, stops the Font, 
 Let sorrow melt the soule, in anxious sadnesse : 
 Deep sobs, and windy sighes, above they mount ! 
 Whence they returne, surchargd with godly gladnesse : 
 No sinne so sterne, but mercy can suppresse it, 
 If with repenting grief, we but confesse it. 
 
 Lord save me from presumptuous sinnes, and save 
 My soule from sinnes desert ; mercy is thine ! 
 All my transgressions, kinde remission crave, 
 They lye before thee (though the fault is mine) 
 
 Begging for pardon, pardon they implore, 
 
 And in my frailnesse, guiltinesse deplore. 
 
 A wounded conscience, who can beare that load ? 
 
 O racking sting ! that galles the quivring soule : 
 
 All sweet chastisements, of thy gentle rod. 
 
 Are cleansers, for, to purge our errours foule : 
 But this mad grief, contracts a gnawing worme, 
 Tempestuous whirlewindes, of an endlesse storme. 
 
 Ther'si What quick evasion ? shall my flight contrive ? 
 froi/Gfds To hide me from thy face, what way ? or where ? 
 presence. Jf [q the depths I dreuch, lo ! thou canst dive : 
 If to the utmost coasts ? lo ! thou art there ! 
 What umbrage. Cell, or Cave, the world about, 
 Can men ascond, but thou wilt finde me out. 
 
 Above
 
 of ifodlie sorrow. 
 
 Above, else deep beneath, or here below, 
 Thy presence is : Then whither shall I flee ? 
 There is no point, but that point thou dost know. 
 Though smaller, than, the smallest haire can bee : 
 
 No rocks, nor hills, nor darknesse can me night, 
 
 Nor blacknesse vaile, from thy all-seeing sight. 
 
 Then in a word^ there's nto refuge for me, 
 But fiye to thee, whose sight I can not shunne : 
 To beg for peace, and grace to mortifie 
 My sinfull lusts ; before my glasse be runne : 
 
 Lord ! let mine eyes distill, like melting sleet I 
 
 Or 3Iarie-Yikc, who washd with tearcs thy feet. 
 
 It is the minde, and not the Masse thou seeks, God 
 
 My sprit is thine, and longs to be refinde : ^^^^^ ^^^ 
 
 By it thou knowst, my secreet wayes and creeks, 
 Whether I be, to good or ill inclinde : 
 
 My soule's the Ruther, of my journey here, 
 
 Be thou my Pilot, safely loofe, and steere. 
 
 Conduct me straight, to thy Coelestiall Port, 
 That in the Sabboth, of eternal! rest. 
 My soule may reigne : And with the Angels court 
 Thy face, with joyes, that cannot be exprest : 
 
 Where all content, in fulnesse of rich pleasures, 
 
 Shall them attend, in overjoyipg measures. 
 
 Who here within, this Domicile of dust ? 
 
 And boggy baggage, of a stinking lump ? 
 
 Would stay to eat, the excrements of lust, 
 
 And feed on filthinesse, that rotten stump : ' 
 
 Nay, none but Abjects ; holy Ones rejoyce, 
 
 To be dissolvd, make happy nesse their choice. 
 
 ' K 2 But
 
 The gusJiing Teares 
 
 But some heart-sunke, in worldly greed and cares, 
 Would build their Paradise, in this base life : 
 And by extreames, involve them selves in snares, 
 Hating the truth, in falshood spend their strife : 
 And what envy, can not accomplish ? they 
 Will make extortion, all their hatred swey. 
 
 Can thou forgivenesse crave, for thy misdeeds ? 
 
 And will not first, forgive anothers wrongs : 
 
 How can thou pray, or thinke thy prayer speeds ? 
 
 When in thy heart, thou malice keeps ; and longs 
 To be revengde : This is no Christian life. 
 To pray and praise, when sunke in spite and strife. 
 
 Away with envy, malice, pride and hate. 
 Let not the Sunne go downe, upon thy wrath : 
 Live to the Lord, and live in holy state, 
 Love one another, there's the marke of faith ! 
 
 Live, and live holy, whom thou serves regard ! 
 
 He'le come, and come in haste, with thy reward. 
 
 Then be not Spider-like, that doth exhaust 
 It selfe, in workes, of little use, and time : 
 vie. Nor like the Indians rude, absurd, devast, 
 
 That will give gold, for glasse, rich gemmes for slime : 
 And precious stones, for toyes, and trifling things. 
 Which strangers bring ; knives, whistles, heeds, brasse rings. 
 
 All smell of greed, though not of perfect wit, 
 Then hang not downe thy head, for lack of trash : 
 Let Cnesus be, thy Lydian Mappe ! he'le fit 
 Thy greedy humours, with a falling dash : 
 
 All which are shades, of floating vanities, 
 
 Mans onely constant, in unconstancies. 
 
 Shall 
 
 Greed 
 breeds en-
 
 of godlie sorrow. 
 
 Shall rich Saturnia, with her cramming gold ? A. con- 
 
 Deceive my heart, and move my minde to swell : ik'htL. ^' 
 
 Or with false lookes, vaine hopes to me unfold ? 
 To snare my thoughts, which vertue may expell ; 
 
 A figge for worldly baits ; a tush for greed ! 
 
 For being poore, Ime rich in having need. 
 
 And why ? cause povertie, that is so light, 
 As being weighed, in ballance with the winde, 
 Doth hang aloft : Then can not seeme no weight ! 
 Nor dare to sit, as sad, on my free minde : 
 
 Say, if it should, it were some fainting thought 
 
 Would me deject ; for povertie is nought. 
 
 Then all my riches, is content I see, 
 A stock more sure, than Wealth can Worldlings lend : 
 Poore was I borne, and as poore must I die, 
 Unlesse good luck, a chest, to death extend : 
 
 Get I a sheet, to wrappe up my dead boneS; 
 
 I'me richer far than gold, or precious stones. 
 
 Seven foot of ground, and three foot deep I crave, 
 The passing bell, to sound mine obsequie : 
 Gold, lands, and rents, the living world I leave, 
 Else if I smart, by streames, by flouds, or sea : 
 
 Then shall some fishes belly, be my grave, 
 
 No winding sheet, my Corps shall need to have. 
 
 But stay ! what passion, thus diverts my minde ? 
 
 Dust shall to dust, and earth to earth returne ; 
 
 If I can here, true peace of conscience finde. 
 
 What losse ? what trash ? what crosse ? can make me mourne; 
 For when laid low, and having lost this frame, 
 My soule shall mount to Heaven, from whence it came. 
 
 K 3 The
 
 The gushing Teares 
 
 The im- The soule it is, of heavenly substance fram'd, 
 ^tetance Breatlid in at man's nostrils, by his Maker ; 
 of the soul. ^ gp^j^ invisible, Gods image nam'd, 
 
 With whom of Essence, infinite partaker : 
 Will, mem'rie, knowledge, faculties divine, 
 Are my soules socialls, reason do confyne. 
 
 "V\'ill, is to rule, and knowledge to conceave, 
 And memorie, a locall power assumes ; 
 Knowledge, as chief, makes understanding crave 
 A league with love, whose worke true blesse resumes : 
 
 I.o ! there's the fruit, of this coelestiall mould ! 
 
 Which never here shall rot, nor hence grow old. 
 
 Then teach me. Lord ! to count my slyding dayes, 
 That 1 to wisedome, may my heart apply : 
 So shall thy statutes, guyde my slipprie wayes, 
 And circumspection, all my actions try : 
 
 Who knew his date of life ? and might attaine it f 
 Would learne to live well, else he Avould disdaine it. 
 
 We're apt to note, the lives of other men, 
 
 But not our owne ; selfe-love, our sense divides ; 
 
 Like two ships, under saile, and one course, ken ? 
 
 Both sailers think, each other swifter glides 
 
 Than their owne ship : So we can check and show 
 The lives of others, and our owne misknow : 
 
 Our haires growne gray, our desires then grow greene, 
 
 And after earthly things, we hunt amaine ; 
 
 We love this world so well, as oft its scene ! 
 
 That we are dead with grief, ere death hath slaiue 
 Us with destruction : Age would faine be young. 
 To nurse the serpent, that his soule hath stung. 
 
 Man
 
 <>/ (jodlw sorrow. 
 
 Man lives like him, who fell into a pit, 
 Yet caught a grippe, by a branch'd tree, and hung 
 Above his head, a hony Combe did sit, 
 Whence his deep appetite, delight had wnmg : 
 
 Below two gnawing wormes, razing its roote, 
 
 The tree fals downe, and greed devourd the fruit. 
 
 The pit our grave, the Tree, this mortall life, 
 This hony combe, vaine pleasures of the world ; The mi- 
 
 Two gnawing wormes, the speedy thiftu ous strife, shonnesse 
 
 Of night and day, wherein our dayes are hurld : "*^ i^^*'- 
 
 Time clouds our light, the glasse is runne, we fall, 
 Downe to the dust, where death triumphs ore all. 
 
 Then darknessc covers Man, he mouldring rots, 
 P'arth gluts him in her wombe, away he goes ! 
 His better part, resumes one, of two lots, 
 No shade, nor sepulchre, can it enclose : 
 
 It either mounts above, or falls beneath. 
 
 There is no midst, can stop, or stay its path. 
 
 Each course is violent, faith conquers Heaven, 
 By force and wrestling, in the way of light ; 
 Which strait is, and few enter : Most are driven 
 Downe to the gulfe, of ever-sorrowing night : 
 
 That way is broad, whore numbers, numberlesse. 
 
 Fall in earths Cell, plungd in cursd wofullnesse. 
 
 Such as the life's, so frequently the death. 
 The Divels deceit, prolongs us in delay : 
 Then wouldst thou flee that pestilence ? set faith 
 Against temptation : Runne the happy way 
 
 That leads to life : Make thy confession cleare ! 
 
 And beg for peace, then mercy will draw neare. 
 
 Yet
 
 The gushing Teares 
 
 Yet ah ! how fraile am I ? how weak ? how wretchd ? 
 
 That even my conscience, trembles at my cace : 
 
 Alas ! poore sleeping soule ! how art thou stretchd ? 
 
 In drousie dulnesse, void of good, and grace : 
 Pluck up thy selfe, condole, confesse, convert, 
 And strive to stand, although thy steps divert. 
 
 The Compasse stands not, solide to the Pole, 
 Though with the Loadstone, any point is touchd ; 
 But hath some variation, we controle. 
 To the East or West, as hourely is avouchd : 
 
 So none of our best deeds, though touchd with grace, 
 Points God amaine, deflection marres our pace. 
 
 Which made Saint Paul, ingenuously confesse, 
 That by himselfe, he nothing knew, nor could 
 and feUing Be thereby justify 'd \ 'cause his digresse 
 ^^ll7^ Was judg'd by God ; the Loadstone true that would 
 Point forth each point ; and yet forget, forgive, 
 The least, the maine, the guilt, for which we grieve. 
 
 The Woman for adultrie, been accusde, 
 Was brought to be adjudgd before our Lord : 
 Their thoughts he saw, and what deceit they usde ; 
 They fled, she stood, and found misericord : 
 Woman (said he) thine adversars are gone. 
 He not condemne thee, mercy is my Throne. 
 
 How good and gracious, was the light of grace, 
 That purgd, and pardond, this Woman unrequested : 
 She's gone, and freed, the law could take no place, 
 No roome for ilfoses, when his Master feasted : 
 For why ? from double death, he set her free, 
 The Judge was pleader, he discuss'd the pleye. 
 
 Frailtie 
 
 man 
 
 Alas !
 
 of godlie sorrow. 
 
 Alas ! when I recall, preteriat times, 
 What losse finde I, in my lost dayes and deeds : 
 For morall slips, a world of weightier crimes. 
 And to condemne me, justice, judgement pleads : 
 
 Yet stay sad soule, conceive, confesse, condole, 
 
 With me my sinnes, my frailties He controule. 
 
 What frivole fancies, flow from my flowne minde ? 
 Which often blinde my judgement ; and divert 
 My better aimes ; whilst reason can not finde 
 The cause of such delusions ; for I smart 
 
 In their velocitie ; abusing will, 
 
 They thrall combustion, to assist their ill. 
 
 What foolish prancks, in gesture, deed, or word ? The va- 
 
 What fond conceits, in flash-flowne merrvments ? netiea of 
 
 vanitie. 
 
 What scoffing squibs, which taunting mocks afford ? 
 What idle straines, in vaine spent complements ? 
 
 Have I not done ; and in such actions quick, 
 
 To foole my fellows, with a jeering trick. 
 
 This thought, that surmise, this flash, that reglance. 
 Of suddaine, motions, else of flowne conceats : 
 More voluble they were, than wide-wingd chance ! 
 Which tops all things, all where, and at all dates : 
 
 There's nought more swift than fancie, nought more fond. 
 
 More light than vsdnde, which flees, and is not found. 
 
 Then, Lord, ingraft in me, a constant heart, 
 Sound, grave, and solid, holy, wise, and just : 
 Prudent in much, and provident in part. 
 That all, my all, may in thy mercies trust : 
 
 Kule thou the Ruther of my foggy minde. 
 
 Lest in dark mists I wander, and turne blinde. 
 
 I^ Brins:
 
 Tlie gushing Teares 
 
 Bring me unto my selfe, from outward things, 
 And from my selfe, even to thy selfe, bring me ; 
 That I in chast will, and pure desirings, 
 May be like Thee, as I'me in nature : see ? 
 Lord set me wholly, on fire with thy love, 
 That my lights, and delights, in Thee may move. 
 
 This Worlds a Mappe, of transitorie toyes t 
 Which to expostulate, were labour lost ; 
 A shaddow mask'd, with hypocritick joyes, 
 Fals in the face, and hollow in the cost : 
 
 And whats our love, or life ? when dead, ere rotten ? 
 
 Our short stay here, is presently forgotten. 
 
 Man like to vapour melts, wealth as the winde, 
 Doth flee away ; and honour like fond dreames, 
 Dissolves to nought ; so Parentage we finde 
 Unnaturall oft : Yea, children by extreames, 
 Rebellious grow : So mighty men grow meane, 
 And meane men great ; this change is daily scene. 
 
 Would God mens sonnes, could leame how Storks they do 
 Who, when their old growne weake, diseasde, distrest, 
 Their young ones beare them, on their backs ; and lo ! 
 They flee with them all where, from nest, to nest ; 
 With care they keep them, bring them what they need, 
 Though they themselves, have their owne young to feed. 
 
 Its strange eetheriall love, should passe humane ! 
 , „ For our young brood, would have their Parents die ; 
 
 Ingratefull *^ . . 1,11 
 
 chUdren to That they might get their goods, and thereby game, 
 rente ^^ If poore, so want, they will them straight denie : 
 
 Nay, slight them, scorne them, raile on their distresse, 
 Thus they decline, and here their wretchednesse. 
 
 O love-
 
 of godlie sorro'Sb. 
 
 lovelesse age ! you might this fault amend ! 
 And pittie Nature, gave you life to live ; 
 Be not like Vipers, for to make an end 
 Of these, who did, your blood and beeing give ; 
 
 If not the Turtle, play the Eagles part, 
 
 Since Parents are, your Pelicanes in heart. 
 
 All thinges runne contrare, in a head-strong change, 
 The world growes grim, mens hearts grow false and double ; 
 Twixt Sonne and father, this is nowayes strange. 
 To see each one, forsake anothers trouble : 
 
 Nay, friends, familiars, blood, kinred, mother, 
 
 Live most in strife, no love 'twixt one another. 
 
 So elements are changd, in part from nature, 
 
 But above all, the earth growes bare and old ; 
 
 The Moones prest influence, failes in some Creature, 
 
 Short falls her force : The Sunne growes tyrde and cold, 
 And seasons frozen ; the airie clouds convert 
 In boistrous windes : most Climes ! like tributes part. 
 
 Most grounds grow barren, and their fruits are blasted, 
 
 And bestiall perish, by depressing stormes : 
 
 The aire's, intemperate, and the fields ly wasted 
 
 With nipping frosts, and canker spoiling wormes : Elemental 
 
 Nay, mens conditions change, and Christian love changes. 
 
 Growes worse than barbarous, we hourely prove. 
 
 Mercy, good Lord ! grant mercy, for thy Name 
 Is Mercy, mercy. Lord of kinde compunction : 
 Father of pittie, compassion we claime. 
 Lover of love, thou life of loves conjunction : 
 
 Come patient Syre ! thou long sufFring God ! 
 
 And slow to anger ; come ! spare thy threatning rod. 
 
 L 2 Looke
 
 Hie gushing Teares 
 
 The pre- Looke downe on Christendome, this Westeme world, 
 ries oT^^ Whose lands, (with fatall sword) are drunk with blood 
 ciiristen- Where Kings and kingdomes, in combustions hurld t 
 Turne spectacles of scorne, to Pagans rude : 
 There is no Nation, within Christian bounds, 
 That suffers not disasters, threats, or wounds. 
 
 The Infidell beholds, and swearing sayes, 
 That our Religion, is a bare profession : 
 For Christs dishonourd, in our ambitious wayes, 
 No faith we show, farre lesse of truth confession : 
 Pryde, puffc with malice, is our Christian marke, 
 Deceit, despight, our daylie divelish wark. 
 
 Here wounds, there bloud, here death, and there disasters, 
 Here Mothers mourning, for their slaughterd sonnes : 
 There Widdows weeping, servants for their Masters : 
 Here helplesse Orphanes, bursting forth starv'd groanes : 
 
 There sisters for their brothers, sorrowing sore, 
 
 Last fatall framelings, one another gore. 
 
 This universall scourge, is grievous great, 
 For kim-ed, nor alliance, nought can swage : 
 Faith, for performance, breeds but greater hate : 
 Deep words and scales, turne reason ragg'd in rage, 
 
 Kinde honesty is fled, true love exyld, 
 
 And conscience with deceitfulnesse defyld. 
 
 Looke on this halfe Europian angry face ! 
 And thou shalst see, the mother of mischiefe ! 
 Point forth at Rome, that hollow hellish place. 
 Eye but her Prelats, hatchers of our grief ! 
 
 And thou shalst finde, that Antichristian Whoore ! 
 
 Would nought but Millions, for one life devoure. 
 
 She
 
 of godlie sorrow. 
 
 She hunts her hounds abroad, and they obey, The craf- 
 
 Some worke, some runne, some plot, some poyson Nobles ; cruelty of 
 Some treason hatch, some murder ! what they say, ^'^'^■ 
 
 Is fac'd with Sophistrie ; perjurie doubles 
 
 Their m entail muttrings : The Jesuites their Trumpet ! 
 
 Must sound the cruelties, of that Babell Strumpet. 
 
 At home, we have at home ! at home, alace ! 
 A world of woes, and rogueries of like kinde : 
 I could, I would, I should, bewray this cace I 
 I dare, but dare not, signifie my minde : 
 
 That faction is so strong, and I so weake, 
 
 That thrice the Prison, they my lodging make. 
 
 They bragge like Butchers, of their beastly deeds. 
 And laugh at cruelty, as at a play ? 
 Their homes they push, and policie them leads, 
 Nought but mischief, their head-strong course can stay : 
 
 And glutting gape, to have old rotten Borne 
 
 Erect'd our Mistresse, else themselves consume. 
 
 What kinred can they claime, to Tyhers banks, 
 (The river shallow, and in Summer dry) 
 We have Gods word, and they posternall blanks. 
 The light here shines, with them doth darknesse lye : 
 
 Or shall the truth, in foppish relicks rest, 
 
 That were to Britaine, an Egyptian pest. 
 
 But stay, stay ! long have I liv'd, and liv'd 
 To see their blindlesse, in dejections fall ; 
 I know their wayes, and at their lives have griev'd 
 They pierce our wills, and we their projects thrall : 
 
 Is any under Sunne, so well acquainted, 
 
 With them, as I, whose body they tormented, 
 
 L 3 They
 
 The gushing Teares 
 
 They wish that Malaga had burnt me quick, 
 As doom'd I was so, by Spaines Inquisition : 
 Whose tortures (ah !) fast to my bones doe stick, 
 And vexe me sore, with pangs of requisition : 
 Great God avenge't, confound them ; and restore 
 Me to my health ; for He debord no more. 
 
 Lord, give me grace, of all things to praise Thee, 
 Who never leaves thine owne, left in distresse : 
 Thou first discoverd, then deliver'd me, 
 A worke of love, beyond my hopefulnesse, 
 
 I sought, thou wrought, then did enlarge my life, 
 JFree from destruction, last, from Papall strife. 
 
 Now to observe my method. He returne 
 To square construction, with deploring Saints : 
 Then here's my rule, He both rejoyce and mourne, 
 For teares bring joy, when mercy crownes complaints : 
 The just man sinnes, seven times a day ; and I 
 Full seventy seven times, may each houre descry. 
 
 Oh ! if mine eyes ! like Arafhusean Springs, 
 
 (Fled Gh'eece to Syracuse) could yeeld three Fonts : 
 
 One to bewaile originall sinne, stings 
 
 The life of nature ; the other (ah !) amounts 
 
 To actuall trespasse ; the last, and worst comes in, 
 To consuetude, a deadly dangerous sinne. 
 
 Compari- Yet as the Malefactour, when set free 
 
 SoLe -^^^^ ^^^^^^ ^°^ pardond ; his heart is overjoyed ; 
 
 from sin. Or as the Prisner, set at libertie. 
 
 Which long before, he never had enjoyed : 
 
 So Man, when freed from sinne, and Satans clawes, 
 His soule triumphs, and loves religious lawes.
 
 of godlie sorrow. 
 
 A shipwrackt man, cast on some planke to seeke, 
 
 The safe set land ; which got, how glad is he ? 
 
 So shipbroke sinners, in some stormie creek, 
 
 Of sinfuU seas, and sterne iniquitie : 
 
 Beene free to coast the shoare of grace, and landed. 
 More greater joy, than theirs, nev r soule commanded. 
 
 A wandring sonne, long forraniz'd abroad, 
 
 In Parents hopes, left desolate, or slaine : 
 
 Yet when returnd, and shaken off the load 
 
 Of strangers rites ; how they rejoyce amaine ? 
 
 So Saints, so Heavens, so Angels joy, when changd, 
 One sinner turnes, who long from God hath rangd ! 
 
 These teares at Bahell spent, on Tigris banks, -j^g j^,^. 
 
 Wliere Euphrates salutes, that stately station : Jsh tears on 
 
 Sowxe-set Hebraich plaints, powr'd forth by ranks, banks. 
 
 Of mourning Captives, banishd from their Nation, 
 
 And Siojis face : sad Judaick songs ! 
 
 Wailing for sinne, and sterne Chaldean wrongs. 
 
 None of their teares were lost, they pierc'd the heavens, 
 Whence kinde compassion, free deliv'rance sprung, 
 God from his deoperculate Cherubins ! 
 Imbracd these feares, his chosen flock had stung : 
 
 Then Mordecais sackcloth, Queene Esther's woes. 
 
 Wrought Hamans death, made Israel to rejoise. 
 
 Thus teares, and pale repentance, brought reliefe, 
 Though once exyld, see now, they're back-reclaimd : 
 The least construction, bred from godly griefe, 
 Begets like mercy, mercy stands proclaimd : 
 
 At Heavens court gate : for Christ the trumpet sounds ! 
 
 And bids all sinners come, he'le heale their wounds. 
 
 Who
 
 The gushing Teares 
 
 VVho pleads for peace, shall mercie finde with God, 
 The oyle of grace, shall oyle their stinking gores ; 
 All fatigating soules, griev'd with the load 
 Of sinne, may come, whose case remorse deplores : 
 For sanctify 'd crosses, all just Mens troubles, 
 Are not prest sorrows ; Mercy ! comfort doubles. 
 
 I never finde affliction, fall on me, 
 Without desert ; for God is true and just : 
 Nor shall it come, and without profit be, 
 For God is good, as mercifuU I trust : 
 
 Then welcome all afflictions sent from God, 
 He whom he loves, he chastens with his rod. 
 
 Who loves his childe, administers correction, 
 on begets ^nd keeps him under awe, cause of complainers ; 
 Yet notwithholds, kinde Natures best affection, 
 But curbes his will, to rectifie his manners : 
 
 Much more Gods love abounds, cause we are fraile, 
 And playes the Jayler, then becomes our baile. 
 
 He lets us fall, that he may raise us up, 
 And though we sinke, we cannot headlong drowne. 
 By gentle stripes, he represents the cup 
 Which Christ drunk of ; our patience for to crowne : 
 As Peter sunke, then shrunke, was twice recall'd. 
 So if we sinke, or slyde, we are not thralld. 
 
 The love of God it free, his mercy gracious, 
 There's no constraint, binds God, to pittie man, 
 But of free will, would make our soules solacious. 
 To glorifie his goodnesse ; if we can 
 
 But apprehend by faith, what he hath done. 
 
 For us, through Christ, his onely righteous Sonne. 
 
 awe. 
 
 Man
 
 of godlie sorrow. 
 
 Man pondring on his momentany dayes, 
 
 May well conceive, the brevetie of time : 
 
 From which extract, he should contract the praise 
 
 Of him, who hastes, to short the sense of slime ; 
 
 And if it were not, for his owne Elect, 
 
 He would prolong the day, and speed neglect. 
 
 What is this age of ours ? much like a span ; 
 Yea ; like the water buble, shent, as swelld ; 
 Even as the glyding shade, so fadeth Man, 
 
 Or like the morning grasse, soone sprung, soone quelld : short and 
 Nay, like the flowre which falls, then rots ere noone, ^^'^ f^® 
 
 our dayes. 
 
 So melt our dayes, and so our dayes are done. 
 
 And yet what are our dayes, the longest liver ? 
 As one man once, I saw, seven score yeares old : 
 Nay, diverse six score, health was such a giver 
 Of lengthning time, ere they returnd to mould : 
 
 And yet a dreame, whose larger halfe of life, 
 
 Was spent in sleep, the rest in toile and strife. 
 
 Oh ! if ambitious men ! their ends were showne ! 
 That like the froth, do beat on rocks of death : 
 That shadow short, from a fled substance flowne. 
 Much like a dreame, so vanisheth their breath : 
 
 Then would their deeds, forbeare to tyranize. 
 
 The Just might live, and offer sacrifice. 
 
 But (ah !) their thundring spight ! like t'a storme thuds ! 
 And boasting men, would thereby God upbraid ; 
 The light they scorne, and in Infernall clouds. 
 Would smother vertue, with a sanguine spade ; 
 
 Is not this Christian world, with bloud o'rewhelmde ! 
 
 Their swords with strife, their heads with hatred helmde. 
 
 M See!
 
 The gushing Teares 
 
 See ! godlesse Tyrants, tyrannizing still, 
 
 And scourging Saints, themselves they scourge with shame : 
 
 Like Nimrod they, 'gainst Heaven will have their will ! 
 
 Though justice, in sad judgements plague the same : 
 At last, behold! where they themselves sojourne, 
 Their threatning swords, back in their bosome turne. 
 
 When Dionisus for tyranny had fled, 
 
 He kept a schoole, in Calabria, eight yeares : 
 
 At Montecilion, opposite indeed 
 
 To Sicilie ; which he at last endeares : 
 
 A king to turne a schoolemaster, was strange ! 
 
 But back to turne a King, a rarer change. 
 
 In this our age, what kings have beene dis-thrond, 
 Detect'd, cast downe, last banish'd from their bounds : 
 I could recite, and where th' injust were crownd. 
 And Princes headlong, hurled from their grounds : 
 Pryde fosterd spight, with them the Ulcer brecks, 
 Which gored the harmelesse, broke ambitious necks. 
 
 Would God mens choler, could with patience lurke 1 
 To blunt the edge of anger, and to curbe 
 With Job their passion ; let forbearance worke 
 The stress'd Athenian suffring : Not disturbe 
 
 Times meek-fac'd calmenesse, prosperous in peace. 
 
 With which no soile, more blest was, once than Greece. 
 
 Have I, said Athens, beene the mother nurse ! 
 
 Of lib'rall Airts, and science. Natures light ; 
 made the And now my Carcase, beares the vulgar curse, 
 mother Q|' ^partaes scorne : and Lacedemon spight : 
 
 and mirour ■'■ ' . ■, ^^^■ 
 
 of mise- Shall malicc tread on virtue ? shall disgrace r 
 
 Of neighbours hate, on my gold tresses trace. 
 
 Though 
 
 nes
 
 of godlie sorrow. 
 
 Though thirty one Invaders on me prey, 
 
 Each one triumphing, in anothers ill : 
 
 Yet flexe I not, though forc'd for to obey, 
 
 No pride shall presse my patience ; nor good will, 
 
 Gaine me to flatter : Nor puft Tyrants shall 
 
 Bruise me in pieces, though I suifer thrall. 
 
 Yet was her Yirgine body, made a Whoore 
 
 To ev'ry proud Insulter ; and her fame 
 
 A Strumpets voice : Whom Mars did once defloure, 
 
 And turning Harlot, robd her Yestall name : 
 The Yictors glutting, on her vanquishd spoyles. 
 Made griefe guide sorrow ; Fortune fixt her foyles. 
 
 In this digression, take a morall note. 
 From slaughterd A thens, now a village left ; 
 That all beginnings, (not their endings) quote, 
 Have floorishd faces, from their spring-tyde reft : 
 
 Their Medium is not long, the morne is all, 
 
 And then their end, in lumps of fragments fall. 
 
 What once was Ilium f Tyrus now calld Sur ? The in- 
 
 And Ninivie, whose mines are ruind : constancie 
 
 Seven ported Thebes, rich in silks and Furre, pride. 
 
 And Carthage, Afrieks glory, now declind : 
 
 Nay, save of three, some monuments are showne. 
 
 The other two, their seats, are hardly knowne. 
 
 So Antiocli, whence sprung the Christian name. 
 And Sions Dame, Judeas sacred citie : 
 Yea, Alexandria, famous in her fame. 
 With Babylon, the remaindure of pittie : 
 
 Though not like Jericho, a lumpe of stones, 
 
 They're but rent relicks, of their former ones. 
 
 M 2 A
 
 life. 
 
 The gushing Teares 
 
 A wondrous thing of Nature, I observe, 
 When Xerxes cross'd, the Hellespontick sea : 
 In greatest Grandure, then begunne to swerve 
 From Princely courage, staid dexteritie : 
 
 Where when the Pontick waves, with troups were cled, 
 Of numbers, numberlesse, and he the head. 
 
 Ambiti- 
 ous Xerx- Then burst he forth in teares, and wept amaine, 
 
 in'g the (Grazing on thousands, which his puissance brought) 
 
 brevitie of ^q^j ga_id, This sight, and all this glorious traine ! 
 
 Within an hundred yeares, shall come to nought : 
 
 I weep (said he) 'cause nothing here can stay, 
 
 But like full streames, they slide, and steale away. 
 
 My horse, my Chariots, Engynes, men of warre, 
 
 And Souldiers strong, shall all dissolve in dust ; 
 
 My spight 'gainst Greice, and their imperious jarre, 
 
 My greed of honour, their revenge injust. 
 
 Which Sardis bore : Shall eftsoone be as they, 
 Had never beene, so mortall things decay. 
 
 Thus mournd this Pagan King, whose rule may learne 
 Most moderne Tymes, to waiie like consequence : 
 For in which Mappe, true judgement may discerne, 
 That ancient dayes, had full experience 
 
 Of natures frailtie, changings, mortals being, 
 Whose restlesse course, was sight-lost shadows flying. 
 
 So day and night, on two extreames depend, 
 
 Either to lengthen, or to shorten prest : 
 
 The restlesse tides, like alterations spend, 
 
 By Cynthias waxing, waining is exprest : 
 
 The seasons runne, foure times the yeare about, 
 And are renewd ay, as their times go out. 
 
 No
 
 of godlie sorrow. 
 
 No state doth solide stand ; Man most mutable ! 
 
 In fortune, or himsclfe, each leaving other : 
 
 He carelesse fled from meanes : If disputable ? 
 
 His meanes are fled from him, to court another : 
 Whats mine to day, to morrow may be thine, 
 And whats thine now, next day, it may be mine. 
 
 Nor is their health in beauty, nor in strength, 
 Of body soundnesse : Subject to disease. 
 Is ev'ry creature ; young and old at length, 
 Shall feele infirmities ; Natures worst unease, 
 
 Graft in corruption : None can sicknesse shunne, 
 
 But he must suffer, ere his glasse be runne, 
 
 Such sowre flagelloes, are the rods of nature. 
 To whippe the childe of lust, with sound correction : 
 Cause why ? they're Moulds, where grace renews each creature, 
 And makes chastisements, signifie aifection : 
 Nay, they're preparatives, against sterne death, 
 Beene fenc'd with patience, flankd about with faith. 
 
 All which denote, men should not fixe their hearts, 
 
 On transitorie things, or trash below : 
 
 All under sunne, in whole, in rest, or parts, 
 
 Are Emblemes of inconstancie I know : 
 
 Man, Beast, and Tree, Wealth, Honour, Health, and Fame, 
 Are but crost Changelings, of this changing Frame, 
 
 Whats heere (beholde !) but toyle, and worldlie losses ? 
 Sinne, shame, and sorrow, trouble, griefe, and scorne, is loaden 
 
 Spight, strife, and malice, ignorance, and crosses, ^^*^ '""°^' 
 
 Adversities sterne face ; friendship forlorne : 
 
 Pryde flankd with povertie, Tyrants infliction, 
 
 Of gall'd oppression, to adde distresse aflliction, 
 
 M 3 Such 
 
 ses.
 
 The gushing Teares 
 
 Such passive moods, are frequent growne, that now 
 
 Old crazd calamitie, begins to quiver : 
 
 Both rich and poore, live timerous, and how ? 
 
 The one to keep whats got : The others feaver, 
 Burnes for to get, the first, fears losse, and trembles, 
 The seconds patience, with content dissembles. 
 
 In Citie, Court, and Countrey, here's their fall, 
 The flat- Deceit, deceives them, with deceitfull stings ; 
 (Wte ^^^ ™°^^ ^^ royall Mansions 1 there's the gall ! 
 Where Sophistrie, speaks two contrary things : 
 And neither thinks to do : Here flattrie stands, 
 To blinde the truth, there ambodextrate hands. 
 
 Then blest are they ! who live at home in rest. 
 And neither follow Court, nor courtly toyes : 
 That life is sweet, and of all lives the best, 
 For homely Houlds, are chargd with privat joyes : 
 
 Most Courtiers mouthes. seeme kind, with hearts as hollow 
 As derne Syhillas Hall, which few can follow. 
 
 To day they smile, and promise what you would, 
 And fill stress'd suppliants, with inunding hopes : 
 To morrow as unkinde, and frozen cold. 
 And tramp in dust, their suiters sad-sought scopes : 
 Unlesse their palmes, you oynt, with sov'raigne ore, 
 Your suite is lost, and you left to deplore. 
 
 The very Dunse, that yesterday was base, 
 When having got an ofiice, looks as hie 
 As skie-set clouds, then will cast downe his face, 
 And squinke acquaintance, to have courtesie : 
 This Rufiian, who did homage thee before. 
 Now thou must beck to him, and him implore. 
 
 Tell
 
 of godlie sorrow. 
 
 Tell Courtiers of repentance, they will mock ! 
 
 And turne their teares in taunts, and scoffing jests ; 
 
 He who feares God, they hold him as a block, 
 
 Its vice and foolerie, their conceit digests : 
 
 They never dreame of judgement, nor of death, 
 But spend in complements, their flattering breath. 
 
 Let none mistake, nor misconstruct my minde, 
 
 I meane of Courts, in generall all where ; 
 
 There's good and bad, in any hollow kinde, 
 
 Both men and beasts, in this may claime their share : 
 
 A Savage, I have found, as kinde in part. 
 
 As best thought Christians, save the noble heart. 
 
 All I desire, and what my soule can wish ! Sions pro- 
 
 Is that the truth may stand, and vertue flourish ; prayed for. 
 
 Lo ! there's the daintie, of an holy dish ! 
 To feed poore soules, and humble ones to nourish : 
 And for this cause, each one should pray with other, 
 Gods word may prosper, and his Church our mother. 
 
 Lord spread the Mantle, of thy mercy round 
 About the borders, of her glorious shrine ; 
 Enlarge her power ; let earths remotest bound, 
 Stand for the limits, of her light divine : 
 
 That thou who on bright Cherubins doth ride, 
 
 May guide, and guard, the beauty of thy Bride. 
 
 I'le dive no more in sinne, and crooked wayes 
 Of rotten nature, which corruption brings ; 
 Nor from the worlds example, draw these strayes 
 Of th' head-strong multitude ; confusion stings : 
 
 He lay about the Ruther of my minde. 
 
 To keep a safer loofe, and thirle the winde. 
 
 What
 
 The gushing Teares 
 
 What rapt coelestiall, forceth my desire ? 
 To be dissolv'd ; my soule may mount aboue, 
 To see these joyes, that blesse, that glorious hyre : 
 Which Saints enjoy ; life's ever-springing love ! 
 My hope resumes, I might as happy rest, 
 In pleasures there, as they are happy blest. 
 
 Now I returne (good God turne thou to me) 
 
 As Travellers, who have been long abroad ; 
 
 Are forc'd by love, their soile and friends to see, 
 
 No rest, till then, their hearts, the way have trode : 
 So I'me estrangd, my Countrie is above, 
 Heaven is the place, thou Lord, my light, my love. 
 
 Great is the glory, of thy glorious face ! 
 
 Enstall'd with Angels ; Saints, and Martyres gone : 
 
 Set fore the Throne, with legions of each race, 
 
 Singing applauses, to that blessed One, 
 
 The Lambe of Love ; our Advocate, thy Sonne, 
 Who by his death wrought our Salvation. 
 
 Fixe fast my thoughts, to the tree of thy crosse, 
 
 Draw all the forces of my soule to Thee : 
 
 Lift up my heart, let me renounce the drosse. 
 
 And dregs of ill ; let me aspire on hie ! 
 
 And walke 'twixt feare and love, in all my deeds, 
 As thou 'twixt justice, and mercy proceeds. 
 
 The sun ^hy vcrtucs are for us, sufficient great, 
 shines on \a^q as the Suuue it shines, the World all where ; 
 andlDad. Yet ev'ry man, enjoyeth so much heat, 
 As if it shinde to him, in proper share : 
 So are thy graces, infinite, and we 
 Enjoy the fruits of their felicitie. 
 
 But
 
 -of godlie sorrow. 
 
 But what ? our lives are short, so are our dayes ! 
 
 Except ill troubles ! miseries, alace ! 
 
 Our continuance certaine, in uncertaine wayes, 
 
 No time of death is knowne, to us nor place : 
 Gods will is so, to have us still prepard, 
 An set on watch, lest that our steps be snard. 
 
 Each minutes life, steps forward to sterne death, 
 And ev'ry act, robs some part of our life ; 
 Like him who sailes in ships, and action hath 
 In toylesome paines, yet forward flees his strife : 
 We cannot twice returne in Natures state, 
 'Cause time runs post, and can make no retreat. 
 
 My Sunne of life, hath his Meridian past. 
 
 And plungd I am, in th'after-noone of age; 
 
 The night of Nature, fastens on me fast ! 
 
 And death waits closse, to pull me from this stage : 
 But Lord, thou wilt not, leave my soule in grave, 
 Let ly the Corps, they'le once conjunction have. 
 
 Our dayes 
 nor time 
 can never 
 returne. 
 
 Now having sung, of deep remorse, and teares. 
 
 Lord ! save me from these weeping teares of Hell ; 
 
 Which grief declares, and ever-gnashing feares ! 
 
 For losse of joy ; and sense of horrours fell : 
 
 Who would not here, a few spent teares disclose. 
 Shall there bewaile, in floods of bitter woes. 
 
 As sea-bred fishes, never saltnesse wed. 
 But still their bodies, stay both sweet and fresh : 
 So grant my soule, thats with corruption cled. 
 May live as pure, not medling with the flesh : 
 But sinne begins first, in the siUie soule. 
 And ends into the body, base and foule. 
 
 N 
 
 What
 
 The gushing Teares 
 
 our Phy- What shall I say ? when mans rot in disease, 
 sitian. ^j^j ulserd sorc, the Phisitian draws neare, 
 
 To give him pills and potions, worke his ease. 
 And lets him blood, he may his health endure : 
 
 Much more Christ's bloud, can purge and cleanse the soule, 
 Of all uncleannesse, pardon what is foule. 
 
 Then to great Jove, the mighty King of kings, 
 He prostrate fall, on my low bended knees ; 
 To beg for mercy, mercy comfort brings, 
 And joy of sprit, works peace from gushing eyes : 
 
 80 Lord of Lords ! sweet Christ, what I would have ? 
 
 Is knowne, and showne, I call, I cry, I crave. 
 
 Now by these words, whom seek you, and confession. 
 
 By thy breath, made the Sergeants backward fall ; 
 
 By that care rouzd thine, slumbring in digression. 
 
 By thy pangs in Gethsemane, one, and all : 
 By that power and patience, fore Anne exprest. 
 By that prophecie, of Cajaphas the Priest. 
 
 By that deep agony, of bloud and sweat, 
 By these sore scourgings, spittings on thy face, 
 By these rough nailes, piercd thy hands and feet, 
 By all these mockings, done thee for disgrace : 
 
 By that sharpe speare, which smote thy tender heart. 
 By that Viniger thou drunk, and gall of smart. 
 
 By that crowne of thornes, thrust on thy bare head, 
 By these blood sprinklings, downe thy face that fell : 
 By that heavy Crosse, on thy shoulders spread. 
 By thy descending downe, in earths dark Cell ; 
 By that great power, of thy great resurrection. 
 By thine ascension : profound election ! 
 
 By
 
 of godlie sorrow. 
 
 By thy five bleeding wounds, I thee implore, r^^^ ^^^^^ 
 
 And by the vertue, of thy death and passion ; riugs and 
 
 By that purple Roabe, forc'd in scorne thou wore, cl^Tst " 
 
 By all these taunts, these Ruffians spent for fashion : 
 
 Nay, by that superscription, wrote for news, 
 
 Jesus of Nazareth, King of the Jews. 
 
 By thy nativitie, and incarnation, 
 Yea, by these words, Mother behold thy Sonne, 
 And Sonne, Behold there, thy consolation ! 
 Go live, and live in peace, live both as one : 
 
 Nay, by this moode, for heavie was thy load, 
 
 W7iy thusforsakst thou me, my God my God. 
 
 By thy baptisme, 'fasting, humiliation. 
 
 By all thy miracles, and wonders done : 
 
 By these teares thou shed, and transfiguration 
 
 On Tabor scene ; As thou art Christ, Grods sonne : 
 
 Save, shield, and shelter, my designes, my wayes. 
 
 For my souls health, and thine eternall praise. 
 
 Nay, by, and for, and from, thy self I beg, 
 For pittie, grace, and pardon, free remission 
 Of all my sinnes : cleanse me the; least dreg. 
 That lurkes within my Temple ; thy possession : 
 
 Let all be cleane, Lo ! there's the totall summe \ 
 
 My soule implores, come now, Lord Jesus come. 
 
 Great King of ages ! Monarch, of all times ! 
 
 Thou first, and last, is, was, and ever blest ! 
 
 Redeemer, unredeemd ! Purger of Crymes ! 
 
 Thou Light, of lights, thou Mans sole-soveraigne rest : 
 
 Encrease, in me thy Sprit, infuse thy grace ! 
 
 Confirme my heart, show forth thy loving face. 
 
 N 2 Sweeter
 
 Tlie gushing Teares 
 
 Sweeter than hony ! or the hony Combe ! 
 Life, light, and love, all goodnesse, peace, and grace ! 
 Sonne of Mercy ! that in blest Maries wombe 
 Incarnate was ; left Heaven thy mansion place ; 
 
 Where now thou art, and art all where ; Come see ! 
 
 My heart, my help, my health, depend on Thee. 
 
 In Thee I rest, Lord ! sanctifie my hope, 
 In Thee I trust. Lord ! fortifie my faith ; 
 In Thee I grow. Lord ! fructifie my scope, 
 In Thee I walk, Lord ! rectifie my path : 
 
 In Thee I stay, in Thee I live, and die : 
 
 In Thee I move, in Thee above I flie. 
 
 Lord ! grant thy grace may make these Teares so blest ? 
 
 (And blesse them all, shall them peruse for blis) 
 
 That godly griefe, may in their blessings rest, 
 
 Kemorsefull soules, whose teares implore for this : 
 LoKD ! pittie me, Lord ! pardon my Transgression, 
 Lord! cleanse my Heart ; Lord blesse thou this Coneession.
 
 Briefe and summarie 
 
 discourse upon that lamen- 
 table and dreadfull disaster 
 
 at D U N G L A s s E. 
 
 Anno 1640. the penult 
 of August. 
 
 Collected from the sovmdest 
 
 and best instructions, 
 
 That time and place could certainly 
 affoord, the serious enquirie of the 
 
 painfull and industrious Author. 
 
 &sM73^1^&7&^:mM7bMMm7&/^s^ 
 
 By William Lithgovy. 
 
 EDINBURGH, 
 
 Printed by Robert Buyson.
 
 
 The Argument. 
 
 ^Ilat mean you Poets noiv ? where are your verse ? 
 Shall Gallants die ? will you forget their Herse ? 
 Shall after times he rohbd, of ivhat disasters 
 Save 71010 falne out ? fye on you Poetasters 
 Why sit you dumb ? or can you not performs 
 So sad a task, on such a grievous storme ? 
 Else gape you for reivard, whilst there is none 
 Left to requite you, save your selves alone : 
 This perhaps may stop you, why ? without gains, 
 Prest Penmen shrink, its true, gifts sweeten pains 
 But most men think, pathetick stiles seem hard 
 For some to do, the like hath numbers marrde : 
 Shall I groivn old then write ? nay, I must to it. 
 Since you, and your young straines refuse to do it. 
 This work ten months ago, had seen the light, 
 But unperformde promises, bred dresight. 
 A t London, and at home : Should I conceale 
 For blandements, what Fme bound to reveale, 
 And at my cost dischargde : No, that were rare, 
 To see mee court {Camelion like) the aire. 
 VVoidd God like subject, heavens from earth had closde. 
 Then friends nor foes, had grievd, nor yet rejoicde. 
 
 A 2 But
 
 The arsfument 
 
 to' 
 
 But all Monarchich Tyme must seal this blow, 
 
 What tve construct, that sequel times may know : 
 
 Deeds smotherd, lye intom.hd, thoughts icithout loordsy 
 
 Are dumb mens signes, what our prwie light offoords, 
 
 Is utterance from knowledge ; though noio dark tiines, 
 
 Shut murder up, closde with perfidious crymes : 
 
 Nay, ichats not noic f hands, seals, oathes, writs, 4' vowsy 
 
 A re cancelld, or forsworne ; deceit alloios 
 
 Base falshood, for best truth : (0 treacherous hearts !) 
 
 Moiv shall the heavens revenge us ! on your parts 
 
 Yet patience crowns our suff rings, a7id none such 
 
 But they who can the marke of conscience touch. 
 
 Then since its so ; that words arid woes agree. 
 
 Let silence sleep, lie mourne where mourners be. 
 
 Times
 
 
 
 Times sorrow full disaster 
 
 at Dtmglasse, containing infallible 
 
 grounds and reasons, how that most 
 
 execrable and parracidiall deed 
 
 was committed. 
 
 'Et melting flouds, sad silent groaves, and winds 
 Bank-falling brooks, & shril woods that blinds 
 Prest Nymphall lists ; let frowning time, & all 
 iThe Elements admyre, this monstrous fall. 
 And marveilous mishape, done under tract 
 Of homicide, by an abortive fact : 
 Come let them roare, and rent the azure skies, 
 (Lamenting this lament) with shrinking cries, 
 And agitat reports : let ecchoing hills, 
 From their wide sighted tops, rebounding fills, 
 The solitarie plains, with trembling sounds, 
 Of dreadfull Massacres ; gorging stressd bounds. 
 With laborinths of fears ; come spend their time. 
 To siste the Traitour, and that treacherous cryme : 
 Which this black herse averrs : let heavens, and all. 
 That move, and live, within earths massie ball ; 
 Adhere, and witnesse bear, of these disasters. 
 And by their kindes, turne prodigall, worne wasters. 
 Of watrie woes : let darkned dens and caves, 
 Steep rocks sunk glens, dead creatures from their graves 
 Shout forth their plaints, sowre stormy showres of grief 
 To plead our pleading losse. And to be brief; 
 Come soul-set mourners, for untimely death. 
 That can expresse your sighes, and panting breath 
 
 With
 
 Times sorrowfall disaster 
 
 With hollow groanes, come shed with me salt teares, 
 And plunging sobs, for mourning now appeares : 
 Say, if deep sorrow, may from passive mood, 
 Turn watrie woes, in a Palmenian floud : 
 Its more then time, Coepartners had their share, 
 Grim grief is easde, when care reforgeth care, 
 For if the minde (like to a soul tormented) 
 Make passion speak, melancholy is vented. 
 
 What shaking terrour stroke me to the heart, 
 Whilst I conceivd the fact, and saw the part 
 Left desolate and spoild, and so confounded 
 That my forcd cryes, from Ecchoes twice rebounded, 
 Fell flatlings down, where they and I lay so. 
 Alive or dead, I knew not, if, or no : 
 For passion (like to rapsodies) subverts 
 The vitall sense, extreames construct our smarts. 
 And none so shallow, but they may conceave 
 That sudden news, if bad, our souls do leave. 
 Laid in a litargie, of sensUesse sleep. 
 Till rouzd, and then pale eyne begin to weep : 
 Such pearling drops, with windy sighs and sobs 
 Heart groaning grief, and Cataphalion blobs, 
 When brust, begets a voice, that voice sad words 
 Which now my self ; to my sought self affords. 
 
 fatall stroke ! dolefuU day and houre ! 
 What raging hate, made time to lurk and loure, 
 To murder such brave sparks, (beside all others) 
 A noble Lord, two Knights, and two kinde brothers. 
 All Haiiimiltons of note ? with many moe. 
 Which in a Catalogue, I will thee show, 
 Placd here at the conclusion, for direction 
 So far by tryall, as I got inspection, 
 With cost and toylsome paines : who can deplore 
 Their tragick end ? else who can keep in store 
 
 Their
 
 at Dunglasse. 
 
 Their fatall names ? full threescore young and old, 
 Were killd and quelld, in that unhappie hould ; 
 And smotherd down with stones : like fearfull end 
 Was ne'er heard of: what ? did a cloud portend 
 That blustriug blow, which rose on Sunday morne, 
 Forth from the sea, and to Dunglasse was borne. 
 pitifull presage ! which they did see, 
 Yet had no luck, from that hard luck to flee. 
 But what ? who can expresse this grievous act ? 
 Hearts may conceive, what no pen can extract : 
 Some few of all were safe, and onely nine, 
 Of which there two, this mem'rie I propyne ; 
 Young Dalmalioy and happie Presfongrcmge, 
 Who by heavens marv'lous mercy, in this change 
 Did wondrously escape ; and yet both wounded. 
 Have in that harme, their health again refounded, 
 All thanks to Jove : Lord make them wise to know 
 Their lives sweet safetie, in that dreadfull blow. 
 For in the twinkling of a rolling eye, 
 Their friends and they were severd : But come see, 
 How all the rest lye shent, some undiscoverd 
 Are there shut up, with heaps of fragments coverd, 
 And bodies torne and crushd : what shall I say ? 
 But curse th'accident, of that dismall day. 
 What, had the destinies, or angrie fates, 
 Crossde constellations, deaths prodigious Mates, 
 Or ominous aspects, self-bloudy Comets, 
 That like prest whirlewindes, their furie vomits. 
 With anxious threats on man, decreed this wonder ! 
 That dye they must, and dye with such a thunder. 
 sterne mortalitie ! that with their death, 
 Reft blind posteritie, of lookd for breath, 
 And natures tract, for they thryce hopefull Syres, 
 Might have had children to their full desires : 
 
 Which
 
 Times sorrowfall disaster 
 
 Which now we want, whilst they themselves are laid 
 As low as dust, by deaths predom'nant spade. 
 
 But stay sad soul, what means these heaps of stones, 
 And lumps of walls, spread as confused ones ; 
 Trace here and there : where, when I went a spying. 
 My heart it faild me, and I fell a crying : 
 Heavens ! (said I) how came this deed to passe ? 
 So many Worthies slain, in sackt Dunglasse : 
 For what ? by whom ? what evill had they done ? 
 That one black sudden blast, they could aot shun : 
 Wast their Ancestors fault ? their owne much worse ? 
 Their kinreds guilt or friends ? their childrens curse ? 
 Or hyrelings scourge ? Heavens will ye conceal 
 This stratagem, and not the truth reveal : 
 If mortall men were angels, we should know 
 The cause, the sin, the Wretch, the hand the blow : 
 But this combustion, ah ! confused tort, 
 Was but a crack : and now to make it short, 
 There's one suspect'd, and that suspitions true, 
 Actor he was, if done of spight, judge you. 
 As after you shall hear : But I'le proceed 
 In method and in mat,ter, so take heed. 
 
 Lo, I have searchd, and tryde, and seen the place. 
 And spoke with some alive ; but for the cace 
 And manner how, they know no more, then they 
 Who never saw't, so sudden was the fray : 
 That even the thought, of that prepostrous fit, 
 Was sensible, to have robbd them of their wit. 
 If deeply weighd : as who would from a rock, 
 Leap headlong in the sea, such was that knock, 
 These Innocents receivd : a Lyons heart 
 Would shake in pieces, to conceive their smart. 
 And short farewell. So quick was their goodnight, 
 Like to a Faulcon in his hungrie flight. 
 
 That
 
 at Dunglasse. 
 
 Tliat lends the eye a glance, that heart nor minde 
 Can show the like, except the rushing winde. 
 Which forcctli me, (if melting woes may moiirne) 
 Backwards to look, and to my plaints returue : 
 sad disaster ! so monstrous and cruel, 
 As if hells mouth, had lent the action fewell, 
 Is more then admirable : what flesh can 
 Dascon the fault, and that short fury scan. 
 
 Afore the floud and after, the like blow 
 Was never heard of, nor no time can show 
 So foule a tragick act : done, and undone. 
 Was both the deed, and dead ; the glimpsing Moone 
 Was in the wayning hushd, as if the night 
 That foUowd on, had lost its borrowd light 
 From curling Thetis : Like crack, nor like smoake 
 Made never Stromholo, that burning rock 
 In the Eufemian gulf ; nor Vulcans shop 
 In the Molian lies, can this o'retop. 
 Nor no lil^e furious flame ; nor Mtnaes fire 
 In three set parts, may with this crack aspire. 
 For all its force : was malice so incensde. 
 That neither space nor favour, was propensde 
 To harmelesse honestie. dreadfuU doome ! 
 That with a clap, did threescore lives consume. 
 Or was it so, that flesh and bloud may shrink, 
 To ruminat on them ? or shall we think 
 But our deserts are worse ; the good with bad 
 Do suffer oft, for destinie is mad. 
 
 Me thinks that hell broke loose, and that the Divell 
 Had got his reynes, the actor of this evill : 
 divine providence ! how could this be ? 
 When he thats kept in chains, was now set free 
 Is he not limitd, and thy mighty power 
 Set to controle him, else he would devoure 
 
 B Thy
 
 Times sorrowfull disaster 
 
 Thy Saints, and choicelings, but belike its so 
 Thou lets him smite, yet saves thy people tlio : 
 He could not torture Job, without commission 
 Nor yet work here, without thy large permission : 
 Was there no way to death, but by the rage 
 Of a tempestuous sound ? could nought asswage 
 Thine angrie face, God ! but dye they must, 
 And with a violent rapt, be throwne to dust, 
 As Doomesday had been set, to raze the world 
 With twinckling speed, so were they from us hurld. 
 If done in field or battell, it had been 
 No cause of sorrow, lesse of weeping eyne. 
 For Mars conceives no sturt, nor will allow 
 His Darlings should, to peevish way ling bow, 
 Which we must yeeld to : yet if we compare 
 Acts past, with present, this fact must be rare. 
 
 How Kings were murderd, & their Kingdoms thrown 
 Downe to destruction, is distinctly known 
 By pen and pensile ; and preceeding times 
 Have left to us the reason, and their crymes. 
 Proud Pyrhus with a stone, from a weak hand 
 Lost life and Kingdome, and his great command 
 And Agamemnon, after ten yeares warres, 
 Returnd ; when done, were vanquisht Phrigian jarres, 
 Was by his page transactd, (with a back thrust) 
 From high bred honour, to disdainfull dust. 
 What bloud was shed, in the Pharsalian field, 
 Where Ccesar fougbt with Pompey ; both did weild 
 The accidents of fortune, for they strove 
 To lord the earth, next to imperiall Jove ; 
 Ccesar was victor, and that Romane floure 
 Lost all the world, within one dismall houre : 
 Yet Casar smarts, (the Fates his doome extend) 
 He rose with bloud, and made a bloudy end. 
 
 1 will
 
 at DuRfi'lasse. 
 
 C5' 
 
 1 will not speak, of Tamherlanes great fii^lit 
 
 Five hundred thousands, put to death and fli<;lit : 
 
 Nor from the Thebane Captaines will I bring 
 
 Their bloudy Trophees, nor of Carthage vsing, 
 
 And her subverted Champion ; nor sackt Tyre, 
 
 Nor Ilions doorae, shall my pen set on fire : 
 
 Nor siege I Jehus, {Jose2)lis sacred storie) 
 
 Where vanquishd Jews, lost with themselves their glory 
 
 Nor of the eastern Monarchy He sing, 
 
 How Philips son, was made a Persian King, 
 
 And spread his wings to Ganges ; whence rcturnde, 
 
 To Babels delicates ; where fortune spurnd. 
 
 Against his pride, and by a slave (made slave) 
 
 Was reft, of what he reft, nay, worse the grave. 
 
 Like instances, I many could produce, 
 But these may serve, for to shut up the since : 
 Yet what of all, can all these paralell 
 This horrid murder : No, I will thee tell 
 Like villany and fact, read never man. 
 If with the matter, you the manner scan. 
 Traitours to Castles fled, fraught with despaire. 
 Have blown themselves, and fortunes in the aire 
 But that was madnesse ; Voluntarie acts 
 Are murders, the Devil constructs such facts : 
 But this malheure, ah ! unexpectd disdain, 
 Came thundring forth, and with its crack they're slaine, 
 A ravishd thing, like to a thought or gleame 
 Of fancies fled ; so was this deed a dream. 
 To sight and swift conceit : wondrous wonder ! 
 And fearfull blacknesse, of a boystrous thunder, 
 Which rent the clouds : Oh ! what shall I report, 
 To correspond this all-predominant tort : 
 But stay and muse, on accidents have been, 
 Or voluntary deeds, too often seen ; 
 
 B 2 Cro&sd
 
 Times sorrowfull disaster 
 
 Crossd ships at sea misled, by chance, or spight, 
 Or for revenge, been vanquishd by strong fight 
 Have blown themselves aloft. Looke for the nones, 
 How men were burnt, and slaine, and drownde at ones : 
 Take here the Popes armado, lately shrunk. 
 Where seas with Papists bloud, were soundly drunk 
 Along the Kentish shoare, till Ne/pttme staggerd, 
 Whilst hyrelings on, his tumbling sides they swaggerd : 
 We thank thee Martin Trum'p, thou playd a spring 
 On thy great Trumpes, made Tritons dancers sing 
 Spaine and Bomes overthrow ; and set us free 
 From their damnd plots, perfidious policie. 
 I will not here insist, although I can 
 Discusse their projects, subject, craft, and man. 
 
 Then to illustrate all, take Eighty Eight, 
 Take merchant sights, take Pirats, & more slight 
 Take Tartarets and Frigots, you shall see 
 When stressd and clasped, how desperatly they die : 
 This word. Give fire, transcends them through the aire 
 Where with themselves, their foes the like doe share, 
 And seldome failes, unlesse a distance be, 
 The one been sackt, the other back doth flee. 
 What of like accidents, they're but extreames 
 Forcd on revenge, self-murder crownes their names 
 With endlesse torture : But ah ! this deed now done, 
 Can not be matchd, with nought beneath the Sunne. 
 Yet some He point, to let you see what wounds 
 Depend on Climats, and their sun-scorchd bounds. 
 
 Then I to Earthquakes come, and deafning thunder, 
 Where He touch three grosse accidents of wonder, 
 At Berat near Castras in Languedock, 
 A thunder-bolt upon thee steeple broke 
 (The folk been fled for safetie to the Church) 
 Full sixteen hundreds, closd within its Porch) 
 
 The
 
 at Duimlasse. 
 
 o^ 
 
 The steeple (stroke) fell down, and with its fall 
 Down came the Church, the tecture, roof, and al 
 Which sraothcrd the whole people : Never one 
 Escapd that rofying shot, save twelve alone 
 That kept at home, been sickiie, agd, and lame, 
 And had no strength, to court this falling frame, 
 This stone-walld town laid waste, the sequel day 
 I came to view it, fearfull was the fray : 
 This thundring blow fell out, on fryday morne 
 One thousand, six hundred, and thirteen worne. 
 From thence to Lombardie, He quicklie trace, 
 To Pearie, that incorprat haplesse place, 
 Set on the river Ladisliae, and closd 
 Between two hills, the Alpes are here disclosde 
 Which bend to Bhetiaes land : this citie crownd 
 For Orenge, Fig, and Lemmon, was renownd : 
 The tenth of August, and on sunday night. 
 At eight a clock, appear d a fearfull sight : 
 An earthquake shook the hill, above, and under : 
 The town streets trembled, like quagmyres asunder 
 The rock falls from above, the towne it sunk 
 Ingulfd within earths bosome : as it shrunk. 
 There was none savd, not woman, man, nor childe, 
 Nor gold, nor goods, (the truth been here instyld) 
 Except a bell, that from the steeple brust. 
 When it was swallowd, with a counter -thrust : 
 The river followd on, and in it run 
 Long five houres space, till all was full, and done 
 Eeturnd to its own course : the Bell was found 
 On th'other side of Ladish, dasht on ground : 
 Three thousand lives were lost, and ly interrd, 
 Within one grave : behold, how fortune errd. 
 
 Last to Bizantium, I amazed come, 
 To reckon on mishaps, and there's the summe. 
 
 In
 
 Times sorrowfull disader 
 
 In winter (not in Harv'st the usuall time, 
 
 Wlien Terramoti court, each parched clyme) 
 
 An earthquake movd, and in the town it fals, 
 
 Near Bospliores side, and razd a myle of wals, 
 
 Which fencd the place ; and in that glutting downe 
 
 Three thousand houses, land, and sea did drowne, 
 
 Which held ten thousand people : but its true, 
 
 There were few Greeks, the most were Turke and Jeiv, 
 
 And so the lesser losse : I will not stand 
 
 Here to expostulate (from hand to hand) 
 
 How that ground was recoverd ; but it cost 
 
 The great Turke more, than all was drownd and lost : 
 
 But for their sepulchre, I daring swear, 
 
 I never saw the like, as I saw here. 
 
 Lo, this great judgement fell, in dark December, 
 
 One thousand six hundred, ten, as I remember. 
 
 Yet to comment on this, these incidents, 
 Arise as Bcussadsy from their elements, 
 Of fire, and aire : the one through clouds it brusts, 
 The other choaks it, with retorting gusts : 
 Composde of contraries, lightning, and raine, 
 The former forcd, the sequell addes the straine. 
 The last as reinvestd, in earth is found, 
 When hollow sun-scorchd chinks, divide the ground : 
 The winde rushd in, begets a monstrous birth, 
 That can transplant, or raze mountaines of earth. 
 Townes, forts, or Cittadales, transforme a lake, 
 In heaps of sand ; so, so, the earth can quake : 
 Not done by airt nor hand, or hellish plots, 
 As this abortive deed (exposd on Scots) 
 Was by the Devill devisde, he actd his part 
 And causd distress, with groaning Patients smart 
 Done by Ned Paris, arraignd at the Court 
 Of Heaven, and Earth, for this tremenduous tort 
 
 Enforcd
 
 (tt Dunglassc. 
 
 Enforcd on dcatli. Come let thy ghost appear, 
 
 To answer for thy fact, thats sifted here : 
 
 Wast done of maUce ? or of negligence ? 
 
 If not of purpose, lesse was thine offence, ? 
 
 And yet no oversight, nor carelesse minde, 
 
 Can thee excuse, for that would judgement blind ; 
 
 No, its not so, thy bloudy oathes and curses 
 
 Bewrayd thy drift ; thy foure times mounting horses, 
 
 That after noon : and still would flee, yet stayd, 
 
 The train was laid, but thou the fact delayd. 
 
 Till thy Lords comming back, with knights and gentry 
 
 Wherein the inner Court, just at the entrie. 
 
 To mount the stairs, there, there, thou smote thy maister 
 
 And many Gallants with that damnd disaster : 
 
 Which in thy looks was seen, ere it was done. 
 
 Mischief hung in thy face, that afternoone, 
 
 With railing, swearing, cursing, boasting some, 
 
 (Whom thou affectd) to haste soon to their home : 
 
 And yet one scapd, whom thy menacing throat 
 
 Did spur away, the greater his good lot, 
 
 The stable keeper there. Will Faterson, 
 
 That did attend thee then, set me this down. 
 
 But He come near, and try more strict conclusions, 
 
 Base mindes ill set, are fosters of confusions ; 
 
 Then what meant that irne ladle in thine hand 
 
 Tane from the Kitchin hot (0 hels fyrebrand ! ) 
 
 Whence to the 7nagazin, thou kept thy way. 
 
 Where eighteen hundred weight of powder lay, 
 
 Of which thou hadst the charge, and onely thou 
 
 Came onely there : what ? did thy Lord bestow 
 
 On thee that trust, and durst thou j)lay the knave 
 
 To kill thy Maister : Vile opprobious slave, 
 
 Mad were thy brains, and still were known for madnesse 
 
 All times absurd, and rammage in thy badnesse : 
 
 A great
 
 Times sorrowfull disastei^ 
 
 A great blasphemer of Gods name, and more 
 
 Thy proverb was, Devill damne me, there's the gore, 
 
 That slew thee with that slaughter : cursde wretch ! 
 
 And wicked drudge how could thou this way stretch 
 
 Thy cruel hands, was there no pittie left 
 
 To save the saiklesse ? was thou so far reft, 
 
 (0 senslesse sot) from reason and respect 
 
 Of men and Master, that thou wouldst infect 
 
 The earth and aire with murder : Oft I said 
 
 To thine and my consorts, this English blade 
 
 Is neither sound nor civil : 1 how can 
 
 His Lord give trust, to such a frantick man : 
 
 A daily drunkard, sotting here and there, 
 
 Led with deboshrie, and infernall care. 
 
 Another thing condemnes thee, that same night, 
 An houre before the deed, in deep despight, 
 Thou wouldst not give to souldiers, match, nor ball, 
 Nor powder, save two shots : And worst of all 
 These Carabines thou chargd, and didst deliver 
 To Troupers were half chargd : nor seldome ever 
 Had half of them flint stones : their bals were choakd 
 Half raches downe, and could not be revokd, 
 Nor shot undread, though time and place cravd aid, 
 Bred from that Barioick fray, was there defrayd. 
 Thy speech disclosd thy spight, thy rammage looke 
 And glooming browes, gave signes (if not mistook) 
 Of unafronted drifts : Thy grumbling words. 
 And chattring lips, were sharper far then swords. 
 Which erst had been more calme : this tale was thine, 
 Some Scots ere long should smart, as they at Tine, 
 Which wore the Papall badge : which thou performd, 
 Whe that brave house, with thy cursd bads thou stormd, 
 Which was made known to some three dayes before 
 The deed was done, it would be done, and more 
 
 These
 
 at Duiia'lasse. 
 
 ^' 
 
 These news from Barivick came, and many heare it, 
 But could not know the manner how to feare it : 
 Which shows it was devisd, and sought, and wrought 
 By Traitours in both lands, ere it was brought 
 To such a dreadfull passe. How this Wretch livd, 
 Doubtlesse some had, in both the Kingdoraes grievd, 
 And lost their Hydra necks : Now He returne 
 To cavell with the Traitour, and this turne. 
 Thy body in three parts, sore torne was found 
 And one of them thy legge, which on the ground, 
 Lay twelve weeks hid 'raongst stones, and this I saw 
 Two swyne its flesh, from thy cursde bones did gnaw 
 A just and loathsome sight : Tn thy left hand 
 The irne ladle stuck fast ; the grip and band 
 Was hard and sure, that scarce one man could throw 
 The ladle from thy fingers ; there's a blow. 
 Would God before Breda, that thou hadst died 
 Three yeares ago, where thou wast vilifyed 
 With every souldier ; then this wofull deed 
 Had not been done, nor such deep grievance spread 
 In honest hearts, vyle barbarian harbour. 
 And son of a poore Porter, could thou harbour 
 So deadly damnd disdain, as for to kill 
 All kinde of sex, in thy most scelerat ill : 
 Nay, could not spare thy self ; had thou no wit 
 To save thy self and flee, when time thought fit. 
 
 Away unhappie beast, what shall I conster ? 
 But curse thy birth, bred for a murdring monster : 
 Did not thy Maister cloath thee, like a Knight, 
 And stuff thy purse with gold : thanklesse wight ! 
 His love thy life abusde, whilst drunken snake, 
 The Tavern turnd thy Church ; did thou forsake 
 The law of duetie, but curst Ilalandinne, 
 Thy brain-sickpate, must run on his ruine. 
 
 C Might
 
 Times sorrowfiiU disaster 
 
 Might not seven yeares twice o're command thy part. 
 
 To honour his famihar noble heart : 
 
 Were ever any knew him, but admyrd 
 
 How his rich minde, was with great gifts inspyrd. 
 
 And hardinesse of Heart ; Lord W. W. may, 
 
 Eecall that combat, of his vanquishd day : 
 
 And could this Kuffian, th' abject of a Traitour, 
 
 Injure so high a sprite, so kynde a Nature. 
 
 And yet he lives, (so great was his good name) 
 
 Christs Martyr, truths mirrour, faiths soul-plight fame 
 
 The cause was good he dyed for, but the fact 
 
 And parracide, was hatefull, here's the tract. 
 
 inhumane ! most execrable deed ! 
 So barbrous neckt, with a Cyclopian head, 
 Framd like Enceladus ; that thrice me thinks, 
 He's worse than Villane, at this murder winks. 
 What heathnick, or what Pagane ? savage bloud 
 What infidel ? could have provd half so rude 
 As this cursde cative, Englands Monster borne, 
 That with the fact, left life and soul forlorne. 
 What Jamnite ? or what Sahunck f garlick slaves 
 Would not to nature stoupe ? whose light conceaves 
 A tender kinduesse, to conserve the race 
 Of mankinde, Vertue, having the first place : 
 But this Cerherian snake, had no regard 
 To great nor small, like doome was never heard 
 As he decreed : ah ! I want words and breath 
 For to detect this Charon, and their death. 
 But he like Erostratus would aspire, 
 That set Dianas Temple in a fire, 
 To purchase flying fame : So frantick he 
 In this Catastrophe, woidd living be, 
 Which I adhere to, and for longer time, 
 He fix on brasse, his filthy fact and cryme. 
 
 If
 
 at Duntrlasse. 
 
 O' 
 
 If any be suspectd, more than this wretch, 
 Let justice, and sound judgement to it stretch, 
 And let our Parliament, sift and search out 
 The plot, the man, the guilt, if there be doubt. 
 For common fame I leave't, and for like torts, 
 Of tortring tongues, He not build on reports. 
 Why ? thats absurd to follow flying fame. 
 Its deep experience, reares up truth a Name. 
 
 Now He return to my Pathetick style, 
 And mourne with mourning Ladies grievd the while, 
 For losse of their dear husbands ; pale woe ! 
 When two made one, the knot dissolves in two, 
 Rent by the Fates, egregious whirling rage, 
 And not by frequent death, done by a Page, 
 And quintiscencd Saltpeter : who can ! 
 Their melancholy mindes, in sadnes scan ! 
 Each soul reserves its grief, each hath like losse, 
 For life there's death, for comfort sorrows cross 
 A common woe ; peculiar to each one 
 Graft, and engraves, a sympathizing moane : 
 First, thou great Dame, thryce noble by thy birth. 
 Sprung from a princely stock : what tongue on earth 
 With words can swage thy woes ? thy sorrows show, 
 From heart- grown grief, that foule pernicious blow, 
 Attachd fore thee : thy face, thy food, thy rest, 
 And sleep denote, how thy sad soul's opprest 
 With helplesse care : whilst scarcely half a year 
 Did thou enjoy this dearest Jewell, thy Dear : 
 Great was that love, thy loving HacUngton 
 Bore to thy soul : thy love again did crowne 
 His fixt respect : By which your tender hearts 
 Knit up in one, made love act both your parts : 
 That Hymen blushd (the god of sacred rites) 
 To see how love involvd in one, two sprites : 
 
 C 2 And
 
 Times sorrowfull disaster 
 
 And why ? no wonder, both alike excelld, 
 
 The one the other, in goodnesse paralelld, 
 
 He spoke, you smild, he winkd, & you conceivd 
 
 His mentall scope, what great content receivd 
 
 Your mutuall intents, whilst demonstration 
 
 Keciprocat, brought Paplios one oblation : 
 
 And yet he left thee, not to live alone, 
 
 But left thee his fair Phenix, being gone. 
 
 A pledge of comfort, representing still 
 
 His face, thy stamp, his heart, thy love, his will. 
 
 like Penolope ! if thou couldst spinne 
 A daily threed, and that same threed untwinne, 
 Till he turnd back, so that the fates had sworne 
 Thy pennance should be, twentie winters borne, 
 And he redeemd : But stay sad Muse returne, 
 Galld grief and love, can not together mourne. 
 Two passions, two extreams, and here I finde. 
 They're violent rapts, in either of each kinde. 
 Away with Didoes stroke, Lucretiaes smart, 
 Faire Hieroes thrust, Palmeniaes fatall dart, 
 Which grim despaire (not love) forcd them to act 
 Their self sought murder, in a tragick fact : 
 Call, call to mind ! Gods providence, and see 
 Nought comes to passe, without heavens high decree, 
 Which mortals must embrace : then Lady spare 
 Thy ruthlesse grief, lay on the Lord thy care. 
 
 And ye the rest, deare Ladies in your kindes. 
 Let sorrow smart, take comfort, lift your mindes 
 Above all worldly crosses ; you shall see, 
 The length of dayes ; hence soules eternitie 
 In endlesse peace : Cast all your griefe on God, 
 He can release, and chasten, bruise the rod. 
 Lo, deepest streames, in smoothest silence slyde. 
 Whilst Channels roar, so shallow mourners glyde, 
 
 With
 
 at Dunglasse. 
 
 Wifh words at will, but mighty cares sit dumbe, 
 Like livelesse corps, laid in a livelesse Tombe : 
 Whence moistned vapours, forcd from humid woes 
 Lye in oblivion terrd. And now to close, 
 As quickly went their soules to heaven, we hope, 
 As their lives quickly fled : the traitours scope 
 Was set on murder : but their Angels watchd 
 And caught their sprites, as with a twinkling catchd 
 To Paradise : Where now thrice blest they be, 
 With glorie crownde ; heires of eternitie, 
 And endlesse joyes : for they as Martyres died, 
 And now sweet souls, with triumphs dignified : 
 Set up' mongst Hierarchies, of sacred sprites, 
 That to their blest societie, them invites. 
 To scale their Martyredome, in Jesus hand 
 Cled with his righteousnesse : Who can demand 
 A better state ? then face for face, to face, 
 The face of faces, in that glorious place ; 
 Where Saints and Martyres, environing round. 
 The old Eternall, with the joyfull sound 
 Of Aleluhiaes, sing before the throne 
 Holy, holy. Lord, to Heavens holy One, 
 The Lambe of God, hembd in with burning glore. 
 Praise, might, dominion, Majestie, and power : 
 Where they (thrice hopefull happie) ever blest. 
 Are crownd and raigne, in long eternall rest. 
 So, so forbear, ye who keep grief in store, 
 Take up your crosse, and for them mourne no more.
 
 Times sorrowfull disaster 
 
 And now followeth the names of the 
 moft part of them that died at Dun- 
 glajfey the penult of Auguft, 1640. 
 fo farre as poffibly the Author could 
 collect by ferious inftruction, and 
 diverfe informations, both of the 
 vulgars, and better fort. 
 
 THomas Earle of Hadington. 
 Robert Hammilton of Binny his brother. 
 Master Patrick Hanunilton, his naturall brother. 
 Sir Alexander Hammilton oi Lawfield. 
 Sir John Hammilton of Redlwuse. 
 Colonel JErskine, son to John late Earl of 3fa?\ 
 John Keith, son to George late earle Marshall. 
 Sir Gideon Baillie of Lochend. 
 Laird of Ingilstoun elder. 
 Laird of Gogor elder. 
 Alexander Moore, heritour of Skitumer. 
 John Gate Minister at Bunckle. 
 Niniane Chimeside in Aherladie. 
 James Sterling Lieutenant. 
 Alexander Cuningham Lieutenant. 
 David Pringle Barbour Chirurgion. 
 Robert Faulconer, Sergeant. 
 George Vach, Haddingtons Purveyer. 
 John White Plaistrer, an English man. 
 William Symington, Lochends servant. 
 George Neilson in Alhamstocks. 
 James Cuningham in Hadington. 
 
 John
 
 at Duiiglasse. 
 
 John Blander stoun. 
 
 Matthew Forrest. 
 
 Patrick Batie. 
 
 Alaster Drummond, alias Gundamore 
 
 John Campbell. 
 
 Johi Idington. 
 
 James Foord, John Arnots post boy. 
 
 John Orre. 
 
 Andrew Braidie. 
 
 John TillidaQ^. 
 
 John Keith, a childe. 
 
 Women five. 
 Margaret Arnot, daughter to the Postmaister at Cock- 
 
 burnspeth. 
 Marjorie Dikson, John Keiths servant. 
 Marion Garnecrosse' 
 Aleison Gray. 
 
 With twelve bore armes, whose names I could not ken, 
 Souldiers for time, not mercenary men : 
 The rest (unfound) ly terrd, corps, clothes, and bones 
 Under huge heaps of glutinated stones. 
 
 Lo, I have done, as much as lay in me, 
 To try the truth, and blaze it, likes it thee, 
 Ime pleasde : if not, a figge for Carpers checks, 
 Whose chattring spight, the rule of reason brecks. 
 And now to close, let Criticks of all ranks. 
 Convince their censures, and yeeld me kinde thanks 
 For what gain I, save labour, pains, and cost. 
 To show the living, how the dead were lost. 
 
 FINIS.
 
 SCOTLANDS 
 
 PA R JE N E S I S 
 
 To Her Dread Soveraign, 
 
 KING 
 
 C H A E L E S 
 
 THE SECOND. 
 
 Mens Scotise. 
 
 All Presbyterians, "pure, sincere and true, 
 Afflicted hy that Independent crue, 
 Are here untouch' d, and are declared to he 
 Joyrid in the League and Covenant with me. 
 
 Printed in the Year, 1660.
 
 
 XF^:?^i^^'^^:x^'^ct^'^T'^-'z^-^'rcu'^^^^^ 
 
 
 
 SCOTLANDS PARJENESIS 
 
 To her dread Soveraign, 
 
 KllS^a CHARLES 
 
 The Second. 
 
 COme to thy Land, my long'd for Soveraign, 
 And here in safety and in honour raign : 
 Come to these bounds, vvhere, of thy royal Stem, 
 Ten and One hundred wore the Diadem : 
 Disperse griefs cloudy frowns, to me restore 
 Those Halcion dayes which I enjoy'd before, 
 When by his presence, my late gracious King, 
 Transcending pleasure to my coasts did bring, 
 And all my minions joyntly did expresse 
 Their boundlesse comfort, and my joyes excesse. 
 Raign with those joy'd enduments from above, 
 Th'Almighties blessing, and thy Subjects love. 
 Raign and live long, Thou period of my pleasure 
 My joyes triumph, the sum of all my treasure, 
 Best of my thoughts, center of my delight 
 Raign, as a beam of beauty shining bright 
 From heavens aspect : Raign in all Royal parts 
 A King of men, a conquerour of hearts. 
 Raign, let Jehovas will model'd in heaven 
 In gold characters, on thy Throne be graven, 
 Of Piety and Justice ; to enable 
 Thee to defend the one and other Table. 
 Raign, Scotland's Lyon to the worlds end out, 
 Who dare presume to call thy Power in doubt. 
 
 A 2 
 
 First, 
 In the A uthws 
 Poeme, inti- 
 tuled, Scot- 
 lands iielcome 
 to KING 
 GEARLES 
 in Anno, 
 1633. 
 
 Raign^
 
 (4) 
 
 Raign, and triumph throughout great Britans soyle 
 In spight of all envenom'd breasts that boyle 
 With hell-hatch'd malice, in that neighbour ground, 
 Wherein excesse of raigning sins abound, 
 Raign, and that Land from vipers venome clenge. 
 So shall that motto hold, Raign and Revenge. 
 
 A guard from heaven have hedg'd thee so about, 
 That thee to harme all furies stand in doubt : 
 For why ? That All-sufficient hath prepard, 
 Emplumed squadrons for thy surest guard. 
 
 But that thy Throne unmoved still may stand, 
 Let true Religion flourish in thy Land, 
 Pure and sincere, in freedome and in truth, 
 Redrest, reform'd, from Gods own Heraulds mouth, 
 
 Let King Josias, and thy Grandsire be, 
 Examplare types and speaking maps to thee : 
 He with his Royall Robes his heart did rent, 
 For the neglect of Gods blest Covenant, 
 Then caus'd the same be read, and sworn to all, 
 Who in the limits of this Land did dwell : 
 1581. So from the year our blessed Lord was born. 
 
 Our Covenant by good King James was sworn, 
 1584. And was confirmed after some few years 
 
 To all his Household, and his noble Peers : 
 
 And now of late, Seign'd and redintegrate, 
 
 By all the loyall Subjects of our State : 
 
 Let Head and Body then in one accord. 
 
 To Seign, Swear, keep our Covenant with the Lord : 
 
 And as my Patriots dear, of each degree, 
 
 Are sworn to maintain Authoritie, 
 
 So shall they joyn, and strive even all as one 
 
 To re-install thee in thy Fathers Throne ; 
 
 Of Vipers brood th'infected soyle to clenge, 
 
 And make that antheme sound, Raign and Revenge. 
 
 The great Avenger shall revenge my cause, 
 And make these Monsters feel the Lyons pause, 
 Who by one fact the worst of acts have done, 
 Unparallel'd as yet beneath the Moon, 
 
 Yet
 
 ( 3 ) 
 
 Yet palliate with Justice cloak that so, 
 
 Those men by Justice, Justice should ov'rthrow. 
 With raigning sins all Israels Kings were stain'd, 
 
 Even from the time that Jeroboam raign'd, 
 
 With Rapine, Violence, Murther, Sorcery, 
 
 And all did act accurs'd Idolatry: 
 
 Yet none of them by Statute were depos'd, 
 
 Or to a publike censure once expos'd, 
 
 Arraign'd, condemn'd, or struke by Justice hands, 
 
 Within the Cities of these bordering Lands : 
 
 But when their vicious raigns and lives were ended, 
 
 Their sons or kins-men to their thrones ascended. 
 
 Raign and Revenge the breach of faith by those 
 
 My feigned friends, but most pernicious foes : 
 
 Base skurrill rogues, by Satans angels sent. 
 
 To swear and scorn the League and Covenant : 
 
 CameVon Monsters, mingling truth with lies : 
 
 Stain'd with these colours of repugnancies. 
 
 Proud Babels tenents seeming first to hate, 
 
 But now like Babel ruling Kirk and State : 
 
 Bishops Hierachies sworn to suppresse, i^ Church 
 
 Now like Erastiis Anarchy professe ; Government. 
 
 My Presbyterial Church-government, 
 Though seeming to maintain, They disassent : 
 They seem'd t'extirpate Schisms and Sectaries, 
 But now they tolerate old coyn'd Heresies : 
 And worst of all, if any worse can be. 
 They strive to break the neck of Monarchic, 
 And trample on their Princes, whom before 
 They seem'd with Civil Worship to adore : 
 And Englands Peers they levell with the ground 
 Of locusts base born swarms, which there abound 
 A swarm e of Brotcnists, fond Separatists, 
 Proud Antinomia?is, wilfuU Erastists, 
 Old Levellers, monsters Inhabitants, 
 Last worst of all, that crue of Independants, 
 In whose infected souls these tares are sown. 
 And to a full perfection lately grown,
 
 ( 6 ) 
 
 As Superstition, Schism, Heresie, 
 Tyrannic, Profainnesse, and Idolatrie, 
 Hypocrisie, a sin the last on earth, 
 Matih. 1. 22. Which shall revive in Judgemeut after death. 
 
 O then how many plagues have they deserv'd ? 
 What grievous torments are to them reserv'd ? 
 Who in a desprat way, have hatch'd such evils, 
 As are of new suggested by the devils, 
 Who first, damn'd Atheists, trarapled have upon 
 The sacred Statutes of the holy One. 
 Next in a furious, but a fond conceate, 
 Englands time scorning Lawes have abrogate : 
 And strive if they had power as will, to wound 
 Even Nature's frame, and all the world confound. 
 
 The King of Kings first Monarch's did install, 
 And daign'd them by the name of Gods to call. 
 To show that earthly Powers Sovereign, 
 Have all their power from him, by whom Kings raign ; 
 Moses the meek, from Heaven, and not by chance, 
 Had rule in chief ov'r Gods Inheritance, 
 And was als absolute, in all degrees 
 As any that bear rule in Monarchies : 
 Witnesse rebellious Korah, with his mates, 
 And many murmurers their Confederates : 
 The first by a miraculous sort of death. 
 Were quick up-swallowed in the opening earth ; 
 Then fourteen thousand, and seven hundreth mo, 
 To Pluto's boures did in a moment go, 
 And for all hatching treason in their breast 
 Against their Prince^ and Gods anointed Priest. 
 
 Revenge, The Lord shall from his store-house bring 
 More grievous plagues on those that kill's a King. 
 Arise, O Lord, stretch forth thy powprfuU hand, 
 Against the Justice-Juglers of that Land. 
 
 Joshua to Moses for his valourous deeds, 
 As Israels Monarch, by Gods will succeeds ; 
 Who from his sacred mouth that choise did breath, 
 Menacing rebels with assured death. 
 
 Next
 
 ( 7 ) 
 
 Next after Joshua, Judges were sole Princes, 
 Who did govern all Palestincs provinces, 
 Till that unconstant Israel then neglected 
 'And crav'd a King, w^as not then iSaw/ elected 
 By Gods appointment and expresse command ? 
 And then anointed by the Prophets hand : 
 Young David next, Gods Minion, was install'd, 
 And from a sheep crook to a Scepter call'd ; 
 That from his loynes, a Virgin and a Mother 
 Should bear her Son, her Father, and her Brother. 
 Now give me leave a little to digresse, 
 And of that Plant this Antithese expresse : 
 Though call'd the Father of Eternitie ; 
 That we Gods sons the Son of man would be : 
 He daign'd 'mongst beasts, be born low in a cell, 
 That high in Heav'n men might with Angels dwell : 
 And though the word, yet child-like stammer would, 
 That to their Gods men might speak uncontroul'd : 
 The glorious Monarch of the World was poor, 
 That heavens rich store he might to man procure ; 
 Hungry he was, this with his Man-hood stood, 
 That men might feed on heaven descending food : 
 The precious Spring of Life for ever blest, 
 That we should drink his streames would suffer thirst 
 In end, the Life, th'eternall King would die, 
 That we should live and raign eternally. 
 
 But to our purpose, Monarch's here below, 
 Can neither Chartor, Seal, nor Seasing show 
 Of their demaines, the Scepter, Sword and Crown, 
 And sacred oyl which from the heaven came dowi 
 Are symbols of their holdings from above, 
 Joyn'd with Gods blessing, and their peoples love, 
 Together with a Line of long succession. 
 And benefit of many years possession, 
 They are, and were of all Endictments free, 
 And Judged by their Peers they cannot be, 
 As Gods Vice-gerents answering to none, 
 But to that King who rules and raigns alone. 
 
 But
 
 ( 8 ) 
 
 But if it be their fate to be detain'd 
 
 In firmance long, and in a Court araign'd ; 
 
 It is the will of God that so should be, 
 
 Who poureth down contempt on Maiesty : 
 P-sal. ]07, 40. . / • .1 T ^ -iiK •. 
 
 Job. 12 2]. T-is lor our sins the Lord will have it so. 
 
 That strength curb Law, force Justice overthrow. 
 
 Try Times, Kecords, which to our knowledge brings, 
 
 The reverence and respect we owe to Kings ; 
 
 David from dales to rockie deserts mounted, 
 
 By cruel Saul was like a Partridge hunted. 
 
 And had no time to rest, nor scarce to breath, 
 
 Affrighted with the fear of present death : 
 
 And though he had him twise caught in a snare. 
 
 Was counsell'd twise, his life no more to spare; 
 
 Yet said, who dares stretch forth his murthering hand, 
 
 Against the Lords Anointed of the Land 
 
 And guiltlesse be, though branded with the crimes 
 
 Of Tyrants, who have liv'd in worst of Times ; 
 
 'Tis better far a Tyrant known should raign. 
 
 In any soil, nor want a lawfull King. 
 
 Yea though an Infidel, we should obey, 
 
 >-uk The new .,„,., , , • r 
 
 Confession of ^^^ "^r his honour and his safety pray : 
 
 Faith, c. 23 : The Jews, both Priest and People, all as one, 
 
 Are bidden serve the King o^ Babylon ; 
 
 Pray for that Cities peace, though there they be 
 
 Detain'd and ke[)t in long captivitie. 
 
 So in our Lord and his Apostles time. 
 
 Four Tyrants rul'd in all the Syrian clime. 
 
 'IKS. 
 
 Tiber 
 
 Caligula. He bids give Ccesar what is Ccesars own, 
 
 Cfaiidius. ^jj(j being tax'd, have by example shown 
 
 That due obedience should to Kings be given, 
 Who are though Tyrants, authoriz'd from heaven. 
 
 Saint Faul what's due to higher Powers preacheth, 
 Obedience to Kings Saint Peter teacheth, 
 To Masters all, and froward though they prove, 
 They should be serv'd with due respect and love, 
 
 A prosperous, fortunate, and happy crime, 
 Was call'd a glorious vertue for the time ; 
 
 O
 
 ( 9 ) 
 
 but suspend your judgment for a space, 
 
 And ye shall find a change in fortunes face, 
 
 Which shall ov'rcloud these flatterings rayes of light, 
 
 And turn them to a sad tempestuous night ; 
 
 Of treacherous Traitours such shall be the chance, 
 
 Who though at first they seem to have some glance 
 
 Of Halcion dayes, from fortunes raying face : 
 
 But sist a while ; ye shall not find the place 
 
 Of their abode, all but repentance shall 
 
 Here be confounded, and condemn'd in hell : 
 
 Revenge, good Lord, and such black sorrowes bring 
 
 On those vile Traitours who have killed a King. 
 
 Great Ccesar did subvert the Roman State, 
 And to himself th'Empire did mancipate, 
 Who would but think that Brute and Cassius part 
 With all the rest that stob'd him to the heart 
 Was just, since that by fraud and policie, 
 He did ov'rturn Homes ancient liberty ; 
 O I but behold, that Senats tragick cace. 
 They all were slain, within a three years space, 
 And some themself, with that self blade did kill. 
 Wherewith they lately CtBsars blood did spill. 
 
 A modern Divine, glossing on this act, 
 Confest that Ccesars proud ambitious fact 
 Was first unjust, but when the Senate call'd him 
 Pomes great Dictatour, and had once install'd him, 
 It was high Treason, to stretch forth their hand 
 _ igainst that man who did in Chief command 
 Now as a Monarch, so that all the blood 
 Of those was justly shed, who him withstood. 
 
 Then doth God favour Ethnick Princes cace. 
 Though alians from the Covenant of Grace, 
 Redresse their wrongs, confound their enemies. 
 Detect and punish lewd conspiracies 
 Hatchd and fomented in a Traitrous brain, 
 And shall he not the fire of vengeance rain 
 On that damn'd race ? Who in a tracherous mood, 
 Hath dyed their hands in Gods Vice-gerents blood. 
 
 B And
 
 ( 10 ) 
 
 And then by show of Justice trampled down 
 Englands old Lawes ; have taken Head and Crown 
 From my blest Charles, who now in Glory sings 
 Unceasing Pceans to the King of Kings ; 
 Whose life a mirrour was of these blest three, 
 Religion, Justice, and Sobrietie 
 To God, to Man, and to himself, three Graces 
 Which now are heard, seen, shining in all places, 
 And shall remain transcending and entire 
 Till this great Fabrick be consum'd with fire, 
 
 Now since that Monarch's are by God elected. 
 Let no man deem, that people dis-aifected 
 Can loose the reins of their Government, 
 Or from their Line the Crown and Kingdom rent. 
 Excepting few, for Europes Monarchies 
 Are now subsisting of these four degrees, 
 Kings absolute. By Conquest, by Election, 
 Conditionall for favour and protection. 
 The first two branches meerly Soverain, 
 By wavering subjects can no change sustain. 
 The latter two not being of my strain, 
 It suites not here, nor can I now explain 
 The first two Powers, as their prerogative, 
 The Father dead do in the Son survive. 
 For now what State being parallel'd with mine, 
 Hath so stand, out against the waves of time. 
 Alexander. For whiles that Grecian had subdu'd the East 
 
 And Monarch like in Babylon was plac'd, 
 The raign of my first Valiant Fergus than, 
 From God, and not by chance of War began, 
 Three hundreth years and fourty past and gone 
 Before our Lord took humane Nature on. 
 Eiigland from Williams Stock of many Kings, 
 Us-ward in Line, to Charles the Second springs : 
 Ireland, in like sort, by a Conquest long 
 Deriv'd, doth to their Lord and King belong : 
 Though Commons acting on a tragick Stage, 
 A thing unheard in any former age, 
 
 Under
 
 ( 11 ) 
 
 Under pretext of Jugling-Justice hands, 
 
 Have put to death the Soveraign of those Lands, 
 
 And in that Burley Court, would change the frame 
 
 Oi Enffkmds Statutes, would root out the steme 
 
 Of former Kings, and have without consent 
 
 Of King or Peers, acted a Parliament. 
 
 A Parliament is model'd by the figure 
 Of a strong man, standing in force and vigoure 
 With sword in hand, menacing death to those 
 Who dare Gods will, or Subjects well oppose : 
 Whereof the King is head : the Peers the heart: 
 The Commons Members, and th'inferiour part : 
 How comes it then, shall such a monster made 
 Of basest parts, rule without heart or head ? 
 
 God will stir up all Christians, Kings, and States, 
 In my revenge to be confederates. 
 And with me joyn, this dismal case is theirs, 
 Which may befal to them or to their heirs. 
 Crowns are in play, a Monarch is become, 
 The pannel'd Subject of base Commons doome. 
 Up, let your Navies, and your Royal H oasts, 
 Strike sail, land, vapour on the English Coasts, 
 Display your Ensignes, Princely Standards rear : 
 First strike with terrour, and a panick fear 
 Those bloudy Gemsters, who have trampled down 
 The Head, and made a stage pla}" of the Crown. 
 Then shall we find them out forth from their dens, 
 From mountains, plains, from dales, and moorish fens, 
 Or where that Crue of Traitours may be found ; 
 We shall their rampiers level with the ground : 
 Their Strengths and Forts, since levelling they crave 
 From strong engines, let them such level have 
 As we impart : Let Justice then have place, 
 Till shee have quite cut off that cursed race. 
 
 But if incens'd with fury they defie us. 
 And rang'd in squadrons have resolv'd to try us, 
 The worlds great Judge, no doubt in whom we trust. 
 Shall be our safeguard as our cause is just : 
 
 Thus
 
 ( 12 ) 
 
 Thus shall our courage taught by wit and skill, 
 Skill arra'd by courage, both by power and will, 
 Make English ground incrimson'd with the blood, 
 Of that Schismatick Independant brood : 
 So what once Ccesar, we may say the same 
 Truely, we came, we saw^, we overcame 
 And routed all, none shall escape our wrath, 
 But all shall die a just deserved death : 
 And Peace shall be proclaim'd in all those Lands, 
 Which now are purg'd by our victorious hands : 
 Then shall I still my King, young Charles Maigne, 
 And change that motto, thus Triumph and Raigne. 
 
 Epilogus. 
 
 ANd thou great King of Kings who rules above, 
 By whom .Kings raign, by whom they live and move;, 
 Moisten my soveraigns soul with showrs of grace, 
 That with him we may breath the aire of Peace 
 Raying with Truth ; that here he may secure, 
 Thy Divine Worship true, sincere and pure : 
 So shall we praise Thee, who for ever raigns. 
 And whose transcending Power all Power sustains. 
 
 FINIS.
 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA, LOS ANGELES 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY LIBRARY 
 
 This book is DUE on the last date stamped below 
 
 It SEP 3 1974 
 SEP 2 3 1975 
 
 lyOiy-REiyEWABLE 
 
 JUL 3 
 
 DUE 2 WKS FRO 
 
 cs/r' 
 
 2004 
 
 ViDAltnEJEIVED 
 
 UCLA YHUILl 
 
 Form L-9 
 2j7H-2, '43(5203) 
 
 VmVERSITY of CALIFORNIA 
 LOS ANGELES
 
 3 1158 00926 8243 
 
 UC SOUTHERN REGIONAL LIBRARY FACILITY 
 
 AA 000 365 056