The school of the heart, or, The heart of it self gone away from God, brought back again to him, and instructed by him in XLVII emblems.

The School of the Heart.

The INTRODVCTION.

TUrne in, my mind, wander no more abroad, Her's work enough at home, lay by that load Of scatter'd thoughts that clogs and cumbers thee: Resume thy long neglected liberty Of selfe-examination: bend thine eye ••nward, confider where thine heart doth lie, How 'tis affected, how 'tis busi'd: looke What thou hast writ thy selfe in thine own booke, Thy conscience: here set thou thy selfe to schoole. Selfe-knowledge 'twixt a wise man and a soole Doth make the difference: he that neglects This learning, sideth with his owne defects. Dost thou draw backe? Hath custome charm'd thee so, That thou canst relish nothing but thy woe? ••ind'st thou such sweetnesse in those sugar'd lyes? ••ave forain objects so ingrost thine eyes? ••anst thou not hold them off? Hast thou an care To listen but to what thou should'st not heare? •••• thou incapable of every thing, ••n what thy senses to thy fancie bring? ••••••ember that thy birth and constitution 〈◊〉〈◊〉 promise better then such base confusion. Thy birth's divine, from heaven; thy composure •• spirit, and immortall; thine inclosure

In walls of flesh not to make thee debtor For house roome to them, but to make them better. Thy body's thy freehold, live then as the Lord, No tenant to thine owne: some time afford To view what state 'tis in: survey each part, And above all take notice of thine heart. Such as that is the rest is, or will be, Better or worse, blame-worthy or fault-free. What? are the ruines such thou art affrai'd, Or else asham'd, to see how 'tis decai'd? Is't therefore thou art loth to see it such, As now it is, because it is so much, Degenerated now from what it was, And should have been? Thine ignorance, alas, Will make it nothing better, and the longer Evills are suffer'd grow, they grow the stronger. Or hath thine understanding lost its light? Hath the darke night of error dimm'd thy sight So that thou canst not, though thou would'st, observe All things amisse within thee, how they swerve From the straight rules of righteousnesse and reason? If so, omit not then this precious season. Tis yet schoole time, as yet the doore's not shut. Harke how the Master calls. Come let us put Up our requests to him, whose will alone Limits his pow'r of teaching, from whom none Returnes unlearned, that hath once a will To be his scholar, and implore his skill. Great scearcher of the heart, whose boundlesse sight Discovers secrets, and doth bring to light The hidden things of darkenesse, who alone Perfectly know'st all things that can be knowne. Thou know'st I doe not, cannot, have no mind To know mine heart: I am not onely blind, But lame, and listlesse: thou alone canst make

Mee able, willing: and the paines I take, As well as the successe, must come from thee, Who workest both to will and doe in mee: Having now made mee willing to be taught, Make mee as willing to learne what I ought. Or, if thou wilt allow thy scholar leave To choose his lesson, lest I should deceive My selfe againe, as I have done too often, Teach mee to know mine heart. Thou, thou, canst soften, Lighten, enliven, purifie, restore, And make more fruitfull, then it was before, Its hardnesse, darkenesse, death, uncleannesse, losse, And barrennesse: refine it from the drosse, And draw out all the dregs, heale ev'ry sore, Teach it to know it selfe, and love thee more.

Lord, if thou wilt, thou canst impart this skill: And for all other learning take't who will.

Emblem 1.

[illustration]

CONTAGIO CORDIS.

Cur implevit Satanas cor tuū. Act: 5.3.

Corde bibis stigium morbi mortis{que} venenum, Hic te Dum blandis decipit illecebris.

W. M. sculpsit

The Infection of the Heart.

ACTS 5.3.

Why hath Satan filled thine heart?

Epigr. 1.

WHilst thou enclin'st thy Voyce-••nveigled eare, The subtill Serpents ••yren Songs to heare. Thy heart drinks deadly poyson drawn from hill, And with a Vip'rous brood of sinne doth swell.

ODE 1.

The Soule. 1.

Profit, and pleasure, comfort, and content, Wisedome, and honour, and when these are spent A fresh supply of more! Oh heav'nly words! Are these the dainty fruits, that this faire tree affords?

The Serpent. 2.

Yes these, and many more, if more may be, All, that the world containes, in this one tree Contracted is. Take but a tast, and try, Thou maist beleeve thy self, experience can not lye.

The Soule. 3.

But thou maist lye: and with a false pretence Of friendship rob me of that excellence, Which my Creators bounty hath bestow'd, And freely given me, to whom he nothing ow'd.

The Serpent. 4.

Strange composition! so credulous, And at the same time so suspicious! This is the tree of knowledge, and untill Thou eat thereof, how canst thou know what's good or ill

The Soule. 5.

God infinitly good my maker is, Who neither will, nor can, doe ought amisse. The being I receive'd was that he sent, And therefore I am sure must needs be excellent:

The Serpent. 6.

Suppose it be: yet doubtlesse he that gave Thee such a being must himselfe needs have A better farre, more excellent by much: Or else be sure that he could not have made the•• such

The Soule. 7.

Such as he made me I am well content Still to continue: for, if he had meant I should enjoy a better state, he would As easily as not have giv'n it, if he would.

The Serpent. 8.

And is it not all one, if he have given Thee meanes to get it? must he still be driven To new workes of creation for thy sake? Wilt thou not what he sets before thee daine to take

The Soule. 9.

Yes, of the fruits of all the other trees I freely take and eat: they are the fees Allow'd me for the dressing by the Maker: But of this fatall fruit I must not be partaker.

The Serpent. 10.

And why? what danger can it be to eat That which is good being ordain'd for meat?

What wilt thou say? God made it not for food? Or dur'st thou think that made by him it is not good?

The Soule. 11.

Yes, good it is, no doubt, and good for meat: But I am not allow'd thereof to eat. My Makers prohibition under paine Of death the day I eat thereof, makes me refraine.

The Serpent. 12.

Faint-hearted sondling, canst thou feare to dye, Being a Spirit and immortall? Fie. God knowes this fruit once eaten will refine Thy grosser parts alone, and make thee all divine.

The Soule. 13.

There's something in it sure: were it not good, It had not in the mid'st of th'garden stood: And being good, I can no more refraine From wishing, then then I can the fire to burne re∣straine.

14.

Why doe I trifle then? what I desire Why doe I not? Nothing can quench the fire Of longing but fruition. Come what will, Eat it I must, that I may know what's good and ill.

The Serpent. 15.

So, thou art taken now: that resolution Gives an eternall date to thy confusion. The knowledge thou hast got of good, and ill, Is of good gone, and past, of evill present still.

Emblem 2.

[illustration]

ABLATIO CORDIS

Scortatio vinum{que} et mustum intercipit mentem. Hos: 4.11.

Scorta placent, et vina placent, sic stult{us} in••••s•• Exanimis{que} animus: sic sine Corde Cor est

W.M. sculp:

The taking away of the Heart.

HOS. 4.11.

Whoredome and wine, and new win•• take away the Heart.

Epigr. 2.

BAse lust and luxury, the scumme and drosse Of hell-borne pleasures, please thee to the losse Of thy souls precious eyesight, reason; so Mindlesse thy mind, heartlesse thine heart doth grow.

ODE 2.

1.

Laid downe already? and so fast asleepe? Thy precious heart left loosly on thine hand, Which with all diligence thou shouldest keep, And guard against those enemies, that stand Ready prepar'd to plunge it in the deep Of all distresse? Rouze thee, and understand In time, what in the end thou must confesse, That misery at last and wretchednesse Is all the fruit that springs from slothfull idlenesse.

2.

Whilst thou li'st soaking in security, Thou drown'st thy selfe in sensuall delight, And wallow'st in debauched luxurie, Which when thou art awake and see'st, will fright Thine heart with horror. When thou shalt descry

By the daylight the danger of the night, Then, then, if not too late, thou wilt confesse, That endlesse misery and wretchednesse Is all the fruit that springs from riotous excesse.

3.

Whilst thou dost pamper thy proud flesh, and thrust Into thy panch the prime of all thy store, Thou dost but gather fuell for that lust, Which boyling in thy liver runneth o're, And frieth in thy throbbing veines, which must Needs vent, or burst, when they can hold no more. But oh consider what thou shalt confesse At last, that misery and wretchednesse Is all the fruit that springs from lustfull wantonnesse.

4.

Whilst thou dost feed effeminate desires With spumy pleasures, whilst fruition The coals of lust fannes into flaming fires, And spurious delights thou doatest on, Thy mind through cold remisnesse ev'n expires, And all the active vigour of't is gone. Take need in time, or else thou shalt confesse At last that misery and wretchednesse Is all the fruit that springs from carelesse-mindednesse.

5.

Whilst thy regardlesse sense-dissolved mind Lies by unbent, that should have been thy spring Of motion, all thy headstrong passions find Themselves let loose, and follow their own swing, Forgetfull of the great account behind, As though there never would be such a thing, But, when it comes indeed, thou wilt confesse That misery alone and wretchednesse Is all the fruit that springs from soule forgetfulnesse.

6.

Whilst thou remembrest not thy later end, Nor what a reck'ning one day thou must make, Putting no difference betwixt foe and friend, Thou suffer'st hellish Fiends thine heart to take, Who, all the while thou triflest, doe attend, Ready to bring it to the burning lake Of fire and brimstone: where thou shalt confesse That endlesse misery and wretchednesse Is all the fruit that springs from stupid heartlesnesse.

Embleme 3.

[illustration]

CORDIS TENEBRAE

Obtenebratum est decipiens cor eorum. Rom 1.21

Heu tenebras Cordis: tenebrae quibus exteriores Succedent nisit Lux tibi luce mea.

W. M. sculp

The darkenesse of the Heart.

ROM. 1.21.

Their foolish heart was darkened.

Epigr. 3.

SVch cloudy shadowes have eclips'd thine heart As Nature cannot parallel nor Art: Vnlesse thou take my light of truth to guide thee, Blacknesse of darknesse will at last betide thee.

ODE 3.

1.

Tarry, O tarry, lest thine heedlesse hast Hurry thee headlong unto hell at last: See, see, thine heart's already half-way there, Those gloomy shadowes, that encompasse it, Are the vast confines of th'infernall pit. O stay, and if thou lov'st not light, yet feare That fatall darknesse, where Such danger doth appeare.

2.

A night of ignorance hath overspread Thy mind and understanding: thou art led Blindfolded by unbridled passion: Thou wand'rest in the crooked wayes of errour, Leading directly to the King of terrour: The course thou takest, if thou holdest on, Will bury thee anon In deep destruction.

3.

Whilst thou art thus deprived of thy sight, Thou know'st no difference between noone and night, Though the Sun shine, yet thou regard'st it not. My love-alluring beauty cannot draw thee, Nor doth, my mind-amating terrour awe thee: Like one that had both good and ill forgot, Thou carest not a jot What falleth to thy lot.

4.

Thou art become unto thy selfe a stranger, Observest not thine own desert, or danger, Thou know'st not what thou dost, nor canst thou tel Whither thou goest: shooting in the darke How canst thou ever hope to hit the marke? What expectation hast thou to doe well, That art content to dwell Within the verge of hell?

5.

Alas, thou hast not so much knowledge left, As to consider that thou art bereft Of thine owne eye sight. But thou runn'st, as though Thou sawest all before thee: whilst thy minde To neerest necessary things is blind. Thou knowest nothing as thou ought'st to know, Whilst thou esteemest so The things that are below.

6.

Would ever any, that had eyes, mistake As thou art wont to doe ••ino difference make Betwixt the vay to heaven and to bell?

But, desperatly devoted to destruction, Rebell against the light, abhorre instruction? As though thou did'st desire with death to dwell, Thou hatest to heare tell How yet thou maist doe well.

7.

Oh that thou didst but see how blind thou art, And feel the dismall darkenesse of thine heart: Then would'st thou labour for, and I would lend My light to guide thee: that's not light alone, But life, eyes, sight, grace, glory, all in one. Then should'st thou know whither those by-wayes bend, And that death in the end On darkenesse doth attend.

Embleme 4.

[illustration]

CORDIS FVGA

columba seducta non habexpand_lessens COR. 〈◊〉〈◊〉. 7.11.

Quam fugeret fugitiua, tuum COR si. COR haberes Non meminisse mei, non meminisse sui.

Michel uan lochem excu

The absence of the Heart.

PROV. 17.16

Wherefore is there a price in the hand of a foole to get wisdome, seeing he hath no heart to it?

Epigr. 4.

HAd'st thou an heart, thou fickle Fugitive, How would thine heart hate and disdaine to live Mindfull of such vaine trifles, as these be, Resting forgetfull of it selfe and me?

ODE 4.

The Soule. 1.

Brave, dainty, curious, rare, rich, precious things! Able to make fate-blasted mortals blest, Peculiar treasures, and delights for Kings, That having pow'r of all would choose the best. How doe I hugge mine happinesse that have Present possession of what others crave?

Christ. 2.

Poore, silly, simple, sense-besotted soule, Why dost thou hugge thy self-procured woes? Release thy freeborne thoughts, at least controul Those passions, that enslave thee to thy foes. How would'st thou hate thy self, if thou did'st know The basenesse of those things thou prizest so!

The Soule. 3.

They talk of goodnesse, vertue, piety, Religion, honesty, I know not what; So let them talk for me: so long as I Have goods and lands, and gold, and jewells, that sure Both equall and excell all other treasure, Why should I strive to make their paine my ple••sure

Christ. 4.

So Swine neglect the pearles that lie before them, Trample them under foote, and feed on drasse: So fooles gild rotten Idols, and adore them, Cast all the corne away, and keep the chasse. That ever reason should be blinded so, To graspe the shadow, let the substance goe!

The Soule. 5.

All's but opinion that the world accounts Matter of worth: as this or that man sets A value on it, so the price amounts: The sound of strings is vari'd by the frets. My mind's my kingdome: why should I withstand Or question that, which I my selfe command?

Christ. 6.

Thy tyrant passions captivate thy reason: Thy lusts usurpe the guidance of the mind: Thy sense-led fancy barters good for geason; Thy seed is vanity, thine harvest wind: Thy rules are crooked, and thou writ'st awry: Thy wayes are wand'ring, and thine end to die.

The Soule. 7.

This table summes me myriads of pleasure: That booke enroules mine honours inventory: These bags are stuf•• with millions of treasure:

Those writings evidence my state of glory: These bells ring heav'nly musicke in mine eares, To drown the noise of cumbrous cares and feares.

Christ. 8.

Those pleasures one day will procure thy paine: That which thou glori'st in will be thy shame: Thou'lt finde thy losse in what thou thought'st thy gaine: Thine honour will put on another name. That musicke in the close will ring thy knell, In stead of heaven toll thee into hell,

9.

But why doe I thus wast my words in vaine On one, that's wholly taken up with toyes, That will not loose one dramme of earth to gaine A full eternall weight of heav'nly joyes? All's to no purpose, 'tis as good forbeare, As speak to one, that hath no heart to heare.

Embleme 5.

[illustration]

CORDIS VANITAS.

Quiminoratur CORDE cogitatinania. E•••••••• 16.23

Ambitio follis vento distendit honorum COR vanum; huic spirat nil nisi grande NIHIL.

Michel uan lochem excu

The vanity of the Heart.

IOB 15.31.

Let not him that is deceived trust in vanity, for vanity shall be his re∣compence.

Epigr. 5.

AMbitious bellowes with the wind of honour Pusse up the swelling heart, that dotes upon her: Which fill'd with empty vanity breaths forth Nothing, but such things as are nothing worth.

ODE 5.

1.

The bane of kingdomes, Worlds disquieter, Hells heire apparent, Satans eldest sonne, Abstract of ills, refined Elixir, And quintessence of sinne, Ambition, Sprung from th'infernall shades, inhabits here, Making mans heart its horrid mansion, Which, though it were of vast content before, Is now puft up, and swells still more and more.

2.

Whole armies of vaine thoughts it entertaines, Is stuft with dreames of kingdomes and of Crownes, Presumes of profit without care or paines, Threatens to baffle all its foes with frownes,

In ev'ry bargaine makes account of gaines, Fancies such frolicke mirth, as choakes and drownes The voyce of conscience, whose loud alarmes Cannot be hard for pleasures countercharmes.

3.

Wer't not for anger and for pity, who Could choose but smile to see vaineglorious men Racking their wits, straining their sinewes so, That thorow their transparent thinnesse, when They mete with Wind and Sun, they quickly grow Riv'led and dry, shrinke till they crack againe, And all but to seeme greater then they are: Stretching their strength they lay their weaknesse bare

4.

See how hells Fueller his bellowes plies, Blowing the fire, that burnt too fast before: See how the furnace flames, the sparkles rise And spread themselve, abroad still more and more: See how the doating soule hath fixt her eyes On her deare fooleries, and doth adore With hands and heart lift up those trifling toyes. Wherewith the devill cheates her of her joyes.

5.

Alas, thou are deceiv'd, that glitt'ring crowne, On which thou gazest, is not gold but grief, That scepter sorrow: if thou take them downe, And try them, thou shalt find what poore relief They could afford thee, though they were thine owne, Didst thou command ev'n all the world in chief, Thy comforts would abate, thy cares en••rease, And thy perplexed thoughts disturbe thy peace.

6.

Those pearles so thorow pierc'd, and strung together,

Though jewells in thine eyes they may appeare, Will prove continu'd perills, when the weather ••s clouded once, which yet is faire and cleare. What will that fanne, though of the finest feather, Steed thee, the brunt of windes and stormes to beare? Thy flagging colours hang their drooping head, And the shrill trumpets sound shall strike thee dead.

7.

Were all those balls, which thou in sport dost tosse, Whole worlds, and in thy power to command, The gaine would never countervaile the losse, Those slipp'ry globes will glide out of thine hand, Thou canst have no fast hold but of the crosse, And thou wilt fall, where thou dost thinke to stand. Forsake these follies then, if thou wilt live: Timely repentance may thy death reprive.

Embleme 6.

[illustration]

CORDIS AGGRAVATIO

Filii hominum, usquequò graui CORDE, Psal. 4.3.

Crapula et ebrietas, solidi duo pondera plumbi, Nata polo, sursum tendere CORDA vetant.

Michel nan lochem excu

The oppression of the Heart.

LVKE 21. 34.

Take heed lest at any time your hearts be overcharged with surfeiting and drunkennesse.

Epigr. 6.

Two massy weights, Surfeiting, Drunkennesse, Like mighty logs of lead, doe so oppresse The heav'n-borne hearts of men, that to aspire ••pwards they have nor power nor desire.

ODE. 6.

1.

Monster of sins! See how th'inchanted soule O'rcharg'd already calls for more. ••ee how the hellish skinker plies his bowle, And's ready furnished with store, Whilst cups on every side Planted attend the tide.

2.

See how the piled dishes mounted stand, Like hills advanced upon hills, And the abundance both of sea and land Doth not suffice, ev'n what it fills, Mans dropsy appetite, And Cormorant delight.

3.

See how the poyson'd body's pust, and swell'd, The face enflamed glowes with heat, The limbs unable are themselves to welld, The pulses deaths alarme doe beat: Yet man sits still, and laughs, Whilst his owne bane he quaffes.

4.

But where's thine heart the while, thou senselesse sot? Looke how it lieth crusht, and quell'd, Flat beaten to the board, that it cannot Move from the place, where it is held, Nor upward once aspire With heavenly desire.

5.

Thy belly is thy God, thy shame thy glory, Thou mindest only earthly things; And all thy pleasure is but transitory, Which grief at last and sorrow brings: The courses thou dost take Will make thine heart to ake.

6.

Is't not enough to spend thy precious time In empty idle complement, Unlesse thou straine (to aggravate thy crime) Nature beyond its owne extent, And force it to devoure An age within an houre?

7.

That which thou sawllow'st is not lost alone, But quickly will revenged be, By seasing on thine heart, which like a stone

Lyes buri'd in the midd'st of thee, Both void of common sense And reasons excellence.

8.

Thy body is diseases rendevouze, Thy mind the market place of vice, The devill in thy will keeps open house, Thou liv'st, as though thou would'st intice Hell torments unto thee, And thine owne devill be.

9.

Oh, what a dirty dunghill art thou growne, A nasty stinking kennell foule! When thou awak'st and seest what thou hast done, Sorrow will swallow up thy soule, To think how thou art foyl'd, And all thy glory spoyl'd.

10.

Or if thou canst not be asham'd, at least Have some compassion on thy self: Before thon art transformed all to beast, At last strike saile, avoid the shelf, Which in that gulfe doth lie, Where all that enter die.

Embleme 7.

[illustration]

CORDIS AVARITIA

Diuitiae si affluant ••••olite COR apponere, Psal. ••••. u.

COR vbi sit queris cage et excors, scilicet hic esr ••st ubi quod proprio plus tibi corde place••.

Michel uan lochem excu

The covetousnesse of the Heart.

MAT. 6.21.

Where your treasure is, there will your heart be also.

Epigr. 7.

DOst thou enquire, thou heartlesse wanderer, Where thine heart is? Behold, thine heart is here. Here thine heart is, where that is, which above Thine own deare heart thou dost esteem, and love.

ODE. 7.

1.

See the deceitfulnesse of sinne, And how the devill cheateth worldly men: They heap up riches to themselves, and then They think they cannot choose but winne, Though for their parts They stake their hearts.

2.

The Merchant sends his heart to sea And there together with his ship 'tis tost: If this by chance miscarry, that is lost, His confidence is cast away: He hangs the head, As he were dead.

3.

The Pedlar cryes, what doe you lack? What will you buy? and boasts his wares the best: But offers you the refuse of the rest, As though his heart lay in his pack, Which greater gaine Alone cun draine.

2.

The Plowman furrowes up his land, And sowes his heart together with his seed, Which both alike earth-borne on earth doe feed, And prosper or are at a stand: He and his field Like fruit doe yeeld.

5.

The Broker, and the Scriv'ner have The Us'rers heart in keeping with his bands: His souls deare sustenance lyes in their hands, And if they break their shop's his grave. His int'rest is His only blisse.

6.

The Money-horder in his bags Binds up his heart, and locks it in his chest; The same key serves to that, and to his brest, Which of no other heaven brags: Nor can conceit A joy so great.

7.

So for the greedy Landmunger: The Purchases he makes in ev'ry part Take livery and seisin of his heart:

Yet his insatiate hunger, For all his store, Gapes after more.

8.

Poore wretched Muckwormes, wipe your eyes, Uncase those trifles that besot you so: Your rich appearing wealth is reall woe, Your death in your desires lyes. Your hearts are where You love, and feare.

9.

Oh, think not then the world deserves Either to be belov'd, or fear'd by you: Give heaven these affections as its due, Which alwayes what it hath preserves In perfect blisse That endlesse is.

Embleme 8.

[illustration]

CORDIS DVRITIES

COR suum posuerunt ut adamantem ne audirent legem. zach. 7.12.

Nec te verba mouent nec verbera, nec mea dona, Ferrea preduri COR adamantis habens.

Michel uan lochem excu.

The hardnesse of the Heart.

ZECH. 7. 12.

They made their hearts as an ada∣mant stone, lost they should heare the Law.

Epigr. 8.

WOrds move thoe not, nor works: nor gifts, norstrokes: Thy sturdy adamantine heart provokes My Justice sleights my mercies: Anvile ••k•• Thou stand'st unmoved, though my hammer strike.

ODE 8.

1.

What have we here? An heart? It lookes like one, The shape, and colour speake it such: But having brought it to the touch I find it is no better then a stone. Adamants are Softer by farie.

2.

Long hath it steeped been in Mercies milke, And soaked in salvation, Meet for the alteration Of anvills to have made them soft as silke; Yet it is still Hard'ned in ill.

3.

Oft have I rain'd my Word upon it, oft The dew of heaven hath distill'd, With promises of mercy fill'd, Able to make mountaines of marble soft: Yet it is not Changed a jot.

4.

My beames of love shine on it every day, Able to thaw the thickest ice, And where they enter in a trice To make congealed Crystall melt away: Yet warme they not This frozen clot.

5.

Nay more, this hammer, that is wont to grind Rocks unto dust, and powder small, Makes no impression at all, Nor dint, nor crack, nor flaw, that I can find: But leaves it as Before it was.

6.

Is mine Almighty arme decai'd in strength? Or hath mine hammer lost its weight? That a poore lumpe of earth should sleight My mercies, and not feele my wrath at length, With which I make Ev'n heav'n to shake?

7.

No, I am still the same, I alter not, And, when I please my workes of wonder 〈…〉〈…〉 spirite under,

And make them to confelse it is their lot To bow or break, When I but speak.

8.

But I would have men know, 'tis not my Word, Or works alone can change their hearts: These instruments performe their parts, But 'tis my Spirit doth this fruit afford. 'Tis I, not art, Can melt mans heart.

9.

Yet would they leave their customary sinning, And so unclench the devills clawes, That keepes them captive in his pawes, My bounty soone should second that beginning: Ev'n hearts of steel My force should feel.

Embleme 9.

[illustration]

CORDIS DIVISIO.

Diuisum est COR eorum: nunc interibunt. ••seae. 10. 2.

Me tibi cum totum dederim vanissima, CORDIS Cur mihi, virgo, tui pars aliquanta datur?

Michel uan lochem excu

The division of the Heart.

Hos. 10. 2.

Their heart is divided; now shall they be found faulty.

Epigr. 9.

VAine tristing Virgin, I my selfe have given Wholly to thee: and shall I now be driven To rest contented with a petty part, That have deserved more then a whole heart?

ODE 9.

1.

More mischiefe yet? was't not enough before To robbe me wholly of thine heart, Which I alone Should call mine owne, But thou must mock me with a part? Crowne injury with scorne to make it more?

2.

What's a whole heart? scarce flesh enough to serve A Kite one breakfast: how much lesse, If it should be Offer'd to me? Could it sufficiently expresse What I for making it at first deserve?

3.

I gave't thee whole, and fully furnished With all its faculties entire, There wanted not The smallest jot, That strictest justice could require To render it Compleatly perfected.

4.

And is it reason what I gave in grosse Should be return'd but by retaile? To take so small A part for all, I reckon of no more availe, Then where I scatter gold to gather drosse.

5.

Give me thine heart but as I gave it thee: Or give it me at least as I Have given mine To purchase thine. I halv'd it not when I did die: But gave my self wholly to set thee free.

6.

The heart I gave thee was a living heart, And when thine heart by sinne was slaine, I laid downe mine To ransome thine, That thy dead heart might live againe, And live entirely perfect, not in part.

7.

But whilst thine heart's divided it is dead, Dead unto me, unlesse it live To me alone, It is all one

To keepe all, and a part to give: For what's a body worth without an head?

8.

Yet this is worse, that what thou keep'st from me Thou dost bestow upon my foes: And those not mine Alone, but thine, The proper causes of thy woes, For whom I gave my life to set thee free.

9.

Have I betroth'd thee to my selfe, and shall The devill, and the world, intrude Upon my right, Ev'n in my sight? Think not thou canst me so delude. I will have none, unlesse I may have all.

10.

I made it all, I gave it all to thee, I gave all that I had for it: If I must loose, I'll rather choose Mine interest in all to quit: Or keep it whole, or give it whole to me.

Embleme 10.

[illustration]

CORDIS INSATIABILITAS;

Insatiabilis oculus Cupidi, Eccli. 14.9.

Von triquetrum toto COR est satiabile mundo. Solum quae fecit. COR replet vna trias.

Michel uan lochem excū

The insatiablenesse of the Heart.

HAB. 2.5.

Who inlargeth his desire as hell, and is as death, and cannot be satisfied.

Epigr. 10.

THe whole round world is not enough to fill The Hearts three corners, but it craveth still. Onely the Trinity, that made it, can Suffice the vast triangled heart of man.

ODE. 10.

1.

The thirsty earth and barren wombe cry, Give: The grave devoureth all that live: The fire still burneth on, and never saith, It is enough: The horseleech hath Many more daughters: but the heart of man Outgapes them all as much as heav'n one span.

2.

Water hath drown'd the earth: the barren wombe Hath teem'd sometimes, and been the tombe To its owne swelling issue: and the grave Shall one day a sicke surfeit have: When all the fuell is consum'd, the fire Will quench it selfe, and of it self expire.

3.

But the vast heart of man's insatiate, His boundlesse appetites dilate Themselves beyond all limits, his desires Are endlesse still: whilst he aspires To happinesse, and faine would find that treasure Where it is not, his wishes know no measure.

4.

His eye with seeing is not satisfi'd, Nor's eare with hearing: he hath tri'd At once to furnish ev'ry sev'rall sense With choise of curious objects, whence He might extract, and into one unite A perfect quintessence of all delight.

5.

Yet, having all that he can fancy, still There wanteth something more to fill His empty appetite. His mind is vext, And he is inwardly perplext He knowes not why: when as the truth is this, He would find something there where nothing is.

6.

He rambles over all the faculties, Ransacks the secret treasuries Of Art and Nature, spells the Universe Letter by letter, can reherse All the Records of time, pretends to know Reasons of all things, why they must be so.

7.

Yet is not so contented, but would faine Prie in Gods Cabinet, and gaine Intelligence from heav'n of things to come, Anticipate the day of Doome,

And read the issues of all actions so, As if Gods secret counsells he did know.

8.

Let him have all the wealth, all the renowne, And glory, that the world can crowne Her dearest darlings with; yet his desire Will not rest there, but still aspire. Earth cannot hold him, nor the whole creation Containe his wishes, or his expectation.

9.

The heart of man's but little, yet this All Compared thereunto's but small, Of such a large unparallel'd extense Is the short-lin'd circumference Of that three corner'd figure, which to fill With the round world is to leave empty still.

10.

Go greedy soule, addresse thy selfe to heav'n, And leave the world, as't is, bereav'n Of all true happinesse, or any thing That to thine heart content can bring, But there a trine-une God in glory sits, Who all grace-thirsting hearts both fills and fits.

Embleme 11.

[illustration]

CORDIS REVERSIO

Redite praeuaricatores ad COR Jsai•• 40.••

Quin mihi iam toties reuocata reuerteris ad COR! Nolle redire merum velle perire, puta.

Michel uan lochem excū.

The returning of the Heart.

ISAY 46.8.

Remember this, and shew your selves men: bring it again to heart, O ye transgressors.

Epigr. 11.

OFt have I call'd thee: O returne at last, Returne unto thine heart: let the time past Suffice thy wanderings: Know that to chersh Revolting still is a meer will to perish.

ODE. 11.

Christ. 1.

Returné O wanderer, returne, returne. Let me not alwayes wast my words in vaine As I have done too long. Why dost thou spurn And kick the counsells that should bring thee back again?

The Soule. 2.

What's this that checks my course? Me thinks I feel A cold remisnesse seising on my mind: My stagger'd resolutions seem to reel, As though they had in hast forgot mine heart behind.

Christ. 3.

Returne, O wanderer, returne, returne. Thou art already gone too farre away, It is enough: unlesse thou meane to burne In hell for ever, stop thy course at last and stay.

The Soule. 4.

There's something holds me back, I cannot move

Forward one foot: me thinks the more I strive The lesse I stirre. Is there a pow'r above My will in me, that can my purposes reprive?

Christ. 5.

No power of thine own: 'tis I, that lay Mine hand upon thine haste: whose will can make The restlesse motions of the heavens stay, Stand still, turne back againe, or new, found courses take

The Soule. 6.

What? am I riveted, or rooted here? That neither forward, nor on either side I can get loose? Then there's no hope I feare, But I must back againe, what ever me betide.

Christ. 7.

And back again thou shalt. I'll have it so. Though thou hast hitherto my voyce neglected, Now I have handed thee, I'll have thee know, That what I will have done shall not be uneffected.

The Soule. 8.

Thou wilt prevaile then, and I must returne. But how? or whither? when a world of shame, And sorrow, lies before me, and I burne With horror in my self to think upon the same.

9.

Shall I returne to thee? Alas, I have No hope to be received: a runne-away, A rebell to returne! mad men may rave Of mercy miracles, but what will Justice say?

10.

Shall I returne to mine owne heart? Alas, 'Tis lost, and dead, and rotten long ago, I cannot find it what at first it was, And it hath been too long the cause of all my woe.

11.

Shall I forsake my pleasures, and delights, My profits, honours, comforts, and contents, For that, the thought whereof my mind affrights, Repentant sorrow, that the soule asunder rents?

12.

Shall I returne, that cannot though I would? I, that had strength enough to go astray, Find my self faint, and feeble, now I should Returne. I cannot runne, I cannot creep this way.

13.

What shall I doe? Forward I must not goe, Backward I cannot: if I tarry here, I shall be drowned in a world of woe, And antidate mine own damnation by despaire.

14.

But is't not better hold that which I have, Then unto future expectation trust? Oh no: to reason thus is but to rave. Therefore returne I will, because returne I must.

Christ. 15.

Returne, and welcome: if thou wilt thou shalt. Although thou canst not of thy selfe, yet I, That call, can make thee able. Let the sault Be mine, if when thou wilt returne I let thee lie.

Embleme 12.

[illustration]

CORDIS EFFVSIO

Effunde, sicut aquam COR tuum ante conspectum Domini Thren. 2.19.

Vota quid occluso, quid vulnera pectore celas? Ante Deum fusae COR natet instar aquae

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The powring out of the Heart.

LAM. 2.19.

Powre out thine heart like water before the face of the Lord.

Epigr. 12.

WHy dost thou hide thy wounds? why dost thou hide In thy close breast thy wishes, and so side With thine owne soarcs and sorrowes? Like a spout Of water let thine heart to God break out.

ODE. 12.

The Soule. 1.

Can death, or hell, be worse then this estate? Anguish, amazement, horror, and confusion, Drowne my distracted mind in deep distresse. My grief's grown so transcendent, that I hate To heare of comfort, as a false Conclusion Vainly inferr'd from feigned Premises. What shall I do? what strange course shall I try, That, though I loath to live, yet dare not die?

Christ. 2.

Be rul'd by me, I'll teach thee such a way, As that thou shalt not onely draine thy mind From that destructive deluge of distresse, That overwhelmes thy thoughts, but clean the day, And soone recover light, and strength to find, And to regaine thy long lost happinesse Confesse, & pray Say what it is do haile thee, What thou wouldst have, and that shall soon availe thee

The Soule. 3.

Confesse and pray? If that be all, I will. Lord, I am sick, and thou art health, restore me. Lord, I am weake, and thou art strength, sustaine me. Thou art all goodnesse, Lord, and I all ill. Thou Lord, art holy, I uncleane before thee. Lord, I am poor, and thou art rich, maintaine me. Lord, I am dead, and thou art life, revive me. Justice condemnes, let mercy, Lord, reprieve me.

4.

A wretched miscreant I am, compos'd Of sinne, and misery; 'tis hard to say, Which of the two allyes me most to hell: Native corruption makes me indispos'd To all that's good, but apt to go astray, Prone to doe ill, unable to doe well. My light is darknesse, and my liberty Bondage, my beauty foule deformity.

5.

A plague of leprosie o'rspreadeth all My pow'rs, and faculties: I um uncleane, I am uncleane: my liver broyles with lust, Rancor and malice overflow my gall, Envy my bones doth rot, and keep me leane, Revengefull wrath makes me forget what's just: Mine eare's uncircumcis'd, mine eye is evill, And hating goodnesse makes me parcell devill.

6.

My callous conscience is cauteriz'd; My trembling heart shakes with continuall feare: My frantick passions fill my mind with madnesse: My windy thoughts with pride are tympaniz'd: My poys'nous tongue spits venome ev'ry where:

My wounded spirit's swallow'd up with sadnesse: Impatient discontentment plagues me so, I neither can stand still, nor forward goe.

7.

Lord, I am all diseases: hospitalls, And bills of Mountebanks, have not so many, Nor halfe so bad. Lord, heare, and help, and heale me. Although my guiltinesse for vengeance calls, And colour of excuse I have not any, Yet thou hast goodnesse, Lord, that may availe me. Lord, I have powr'd out all my heart to thee: Vouchsafe one drop of mercy unto me.

Embleme 13.

[illustration]

CORDIS CIRCVMCISIO.

Circumcidite praeputium CORDIS uestri. Deuteron. 10. 16.

Crux capulum, chalybem cultro dat lancea daui Ferrum, hoc COR circumcide deo{que} sacra.

Michel uan lochem ecxcu

The circumcision of the Heart.

DEVT. 10. 16.

Circumcise the foreskin of your heart, and be no more stiff necked.

Epigr. 13.

HEre, take thy Saviours crosse, the nailes, and speare, That for thy sak•• his holy flesh did teare: Use them as knives th••ne heart to circumcise, And dresse thy God a pleasing sacrifice.

ODE 13.

1.

Heale thee? I will. But first I'll let thee know What it comes to. The plaister was prepared long agoe: But thou must doe Something thy selfe, that it may bee Effectually apply'd to thee.

2.

I, to that end, that I might cure thy sores, Was slaine, and dy'd, By mine owne people was turn'd out of doores, And crucify'd: My side was pierced with a speare, And nailes my hands and feet did teare.

3.

Doe thou then to thy selfe, as they to mee: Make haste, and try, The old man, that is yet alive in thee, To crucifie.

Till he be dead in thee, my blood Is like to doe thee little good:

4.

My course of physick is to cure the soule By killing sinne. So then, thine owne corruptions to controule Thou must beginne. Untill thine heart be circumcis'd, My death will not be duly priz'd.

5.

Consider then my crosse, my nailes, and speare, And let that thought Cut Rasor-like thine heart, when thou dost heare, How deare I bought Thy freedome from the pow'r of sinne, And that distresse which thou wast in.

6.

Cut out the iron sinew of thy neck, That it may be Supple, and pliant to obey my beck, And learne of me. Meeknesse alone, and yeelding, hath A power to appease my wrath.

7.

Shave off thine hairy scalpe, those curled locks Powd'red with pride, Wherewith thy scornfull heart my judgements mocks, And thinks to hide Its thunder-threatned head, which bared Alone is likely to be spared.

8.

Rippe off those seeming robes, but reall rags, Which earth admires

As honourable ornaments, and brags That it attires, Cumbers thee with indeed. Thy sores Fester with what the world adores.

9.

Clip thine Ambitions wings, let downe thy plumes, And learne to stoope, Whilst thou hast time to stand. Who still presumes Of strength will droope At last, and flagge, when he should flye. Falls hurt them most that climbe most high.

10.

Scrape off that scaly scurffe of vanities, That clogges thee so: Profits and pleasures are those enemies, That worke thy woe. If thou wilt have me cure thy wounds, First ridde each humor that abounds.

Embleme 14.

[illustration]

CORDIS CONTRITIO.

COR Contritum et humiliatum, Deus, non despicies, Psal. 50. 19.

In partes quam mille velim contundere COR hoc. Quod fuit auctori sponte rebelle suo. 14.

Michel uan lochem ecxcu.

The contrition of the Heart.

PSAL. 51. 17.

A broken and contrite heart, O God, thou wilt not despise.

Epigr. 14.

How gladly would I bruise, and breake this heart Into a thousand pieces, till the smart Make it confesse, that, of its owne accord, It wilfully rebell'd against the Lord?

ODE 14.

1.

Lord, if I had an arme of pow'r like thine, And could effect what I desire, My love-drawne heart, like smallest wyre, Bended and writhen, should together twine, And twisted stand With thy command: Thou should'st no sooner bid, but I would goe, Thou should'st not will the thing I would not doe.

2.

But I am weake, Lord, and corruption strong: When I would faine doe what I should, Then I cannot doe what I would: Mine action's short, when mine intention's long: Though my desire Be quick as fire,

Yet my performance is as dull as earth, And stifles its own issue in the birth.

3.

But what I can doe, Lord, I will, since what I would I cannot: I will try Whether mine heart, that's hard and dry, Being calm'd, and tempered with that Liquor which falls From mine eye-balls, Will worke more pliantly, and yeeld to take Such new impression as thy grace shall make.

4.

In mine owne conscience then, as in a mortar I'le place mine heart, and bray it there: If griefe for what is past, and feare Of what's to come be a sufficient torture, I'le breake it all In pieces small: Sinne shall not finde a sheard without a flaw, Wherein to lodge one lust against thy law.

5.

Remember then, mine heart, what thou hast done; What thou hast left undone: the ill Of all my thoughts, words, deeds, is still Thy cursed issue onely: thou art growne To such a passe, That never was, Nor is, nor will there be, a sinne so bad, But thou some way therein an hand hast had.

6.

Thou hast not been content alone to sinne, But hast made others sinne with thee, Yea made their sinnes thine owne to be,

By liking, and allowing them therein. Who first beginnes, Or followes, sinnes Not his owne sinnes alone, but sinneth o're All the same sinnes, both after, and before.

7.

What boundlesse sorrow can suffice a guilt Growne so transcendent? Should thine eye Weepe seas of blood, thy sighes outvie The winds when with the waves, they run at tilt, Yet they could not Cancell one blot. The least of all thy sinnes against thy God Deserves a thunderbolt should be thy rod.

8.

Break then, mine heart: and since thou cannot grieve Enough at once, while thou art whole, Shiver thy self to dust, and dole Thy sorrow to the sev'rall atomes, give All to each part, And by that art Strive thy dissever'd self to multiply, And want of weight with number to supply.

Embleme 15.

[illustration]

CORDIS HVMILIATIO.

Deprime COR tuum et sustine Eccli. 2. 2

COR nimis beu s••s•• gaudens sublimibus effert. Ni super unpositum, deprimat illud, onus.

Michel uan lochem excu 15.

The humiliation of the Heart.

ECCL. 7. 9.

The patient in spirit is better then the proud in spirit.

Epigr. 15.

MIne heart, alas, exalts it self too high, And doth delight a loftier pitch to flye, Then it is able to maintaine, unlesse It feel the weight of thine imposed presse.

ODE. 15.

1.

So let it be, Lord, I am well content, And thou shalt see The time is not mis-spent, Which thou dost then bestow, when thou dost quell And crush the heart, that pride before did swell.

2.

Lord, I perceive As soone as thou dost send, And I receive The blessings thou dost lend, Mine heart begins to mount, and doth forget The ground whereon it goes, where it is set.

3.

In health I grew Wanton, began to kick, As though I knew I never should be sick. Diseases take me downe, and make me know, Bodies of brasse must pay the death they owe.

4.

If I but dreame Of wealth, mine heart doth rise With a full streame Of pride, and I despise All that is good, untill I wake, and spie The swelling bubble prickt with poverty.

5.

A little wind Of undeserved praise Blowes up my mind, And my swoll'n thoughts doth raise Above themselves, untill the sense of shame Makes me contemne my self-dishonour'd name.

6.

One moments mirth Would make me run starke mad, And the whole earth, Could it at once be had, Would not suffice my greedy appetite, Did'st thou not paine in stead of pleasure write.

7.

Lord, it is well, I was in time brought downe, Else thou canst tell, Mine heart would soone have flow'n

Full in thy face, and studi'd to requite The riches of thy goodnesse with despight.

8.

Slack not thine hand, Lord, turne thy Screw about: If thy Presse stand, Mine heart may chance slip out. O quest it unto nothing, rather then It should forget it selfe, and swell again.

9.

Or if thou art Dispos'd to let it goe, Lord, teach mine heart To lay it selfe as low, As thou canst cast it: that prosperity May still be temper'd with humility.

10.

Thy way to rise Was to descend: let me My selfe despise, And so ascend with thee. Thou throw'st them down, that lift themselves on high, And raisest them, that on the ground doe lie.

Embleme 16.

[illustration]

CORDIS EMOLLITIO.

Deus molliuit COR meum. Iob. 23. 10

COR marmor glaciale, Deus, ceu cera, liquescet Vrere cum tuus hoc ceperit ignis amor.

Michel uan lochem excū

The softening of the Heart.

IOB 23. 16.

God maketh my heart soft.

Epigr. 16.

MIne heart is of it selfe a marble ice, Both cold, and hard: but thou canst in a trice Melt it like waxe, great God, if from above Thou kindle in it once thy fire of love.

ODE. 16.

1.

Nay, blessed Founder; leave me not: If out of all this grot There can but any gold be got, The time thou dost bestow, the cost, And paines will not be lost: The bargaine is but hard at most. And such are all those thou dost make with me: Thou know'st thou canst not but a loser be.

2.

When the Sun shines with glitt'ring beames, His cold dispelling gleames Turne snow, and ice to wat'ry streames. The waxe, as soone as it hath smelt The warmth of fire, and felt The glowing heat thereof, will melt.

Yea pearles with vinegar dissolve we may, And adamants in bloud of goats, they say.

3.

If nature can doe this, much more, Lord, may thy grace restore Mine heart to what it was before. There's the same matter in it still, Though new inform'd with ill, Yet can it not resist thy will. Thy pow'r, that fram'd it at the first, as oft As thou wilt have it, Lord, can make it soft.

4.

Thou art the Sun of righteousnesse: And though I must confesse Mine heart's growne hard in wickednesse, Yet thy resplendent rayes of light, When once they come in sight, Will quickly thawe what froze by night. Lord, in thine healing wings a pow'r doth dwell Able to melt the hardest heart in hell.

5.

Although mine heart in hardnesse passe Both iron, steel, and brasse, Yea th' hardest thing that ever was, Yet, if thy fire th Spirit accord, And working with thy word A blessing unto it afford, It will grow liquid, and not drop alone, But melt it self away before thy throne,

6.

Yea, though my flinty heart be such, That the Sun cannot touch, Nor fire sometimes affect it much, Yet thy warme recking self-shed blood,

O Lamb of God, 's so good It cannot alwayes be withstood. That Aqua-regia of thy love prevailes, Ev'n where thy powers Aqua-fortis failes.

7.

Then leave me not so soon, dear Lord, Though I neglect thy Word, And what thy power doth afford, Yet try thy mercy, and thy love, The force thereof may move, When all things else succeslesse prove. Soakt in thy bloud mine heart will soone surrender Its native hardnesse, and grow soft, and tender.

Embleme 17.

[illustration]

CORDIS MVNDATIO.

Laua a malitiâ COR tuum. Jirem 4. 14.

Fons scaturit lateris transfixi vulnere sponsi HOC CORDIS maculas ablue, sponsa, tui

Michel uan lochem excū.

The cleansing of the Heart.

IER. 5. 14.

O Jerusalem wash thine heart from wick∣ednesse, that thou maist be saved.

Epigr. 17.

OVt of thy wounded husbands Saviours side, Espoused soul, there flowes with a full tide A sountaine for uncleannesse: wash thee there, Wash there thine heart, and then thou need'st not feare.

ODE. 17.

1.

O endlesse misery! I labour still, but still in vaine. The staines of sinne I see Are oaded all, or di'd in graine. There's not a blot Will stirre a jot For all that I can doe: There is no hope In Fullers sope, Though I adde nitre too.

2.

I many wayes have tri'd, Have often soakt it in cold feares, And, when a time I spi'd, Powred upon it scalding teares, Have rins'd, and rub'd, And scrap't and scrub'd,

And turn'd it up, and downe: Yet can I not Wash out one spot, It's rather fouler growne.

3.

O miserable state! Who would be troubled with an heart, As I have been of late, Both to my sorrow, shame, and smart? If it will not Be cleaner got, 'T were better I had none. Yet how should we Divided be, That are not two, but one?

4.

But am I not starke wilde, That go about to wash mine heart With hands that are defll'd, As much as any other part? Whilst all thy teares, Thine hopes, and feares, Both ev'ry word, and deed, And thought is soule, Poore silly soule, How canst thou looke to speed?

5.

Can there no helpe be had? Lord, thou art holy, thou are pure: Mine heart is not so bad, So soule, but thou canst cleanse it sure. Speak, blessed Lord, Wilt thou afford Me meanes to make it cleane?

I know thou wilt: Thy bloud were spilt Should it runne still in vaine.

6.

Then to that blessed spring, Which from my Saviours sacred side Doth flow, mine heart I'll bring, And there it will be purifi'd. Although the dye, Wherein I lie, Crimson, or scarlet were, This bloud I know Will make't, as snow, Or wooll, both cleane, and cleere.

Embleme 18.

[illustration]

CORDIS DONATIO.

Praebe, fili mi, COR tuum mihi Prou. 23. 21

Vnice CORDIS amor timor vnice CORDIS, Jesu. COR tibi dono meum. COR mihi redde tuum.

The giving of the Heart.

PROV. 23. 21.

My sonne give me thine heart.

Epigr. 18.

THe onely love, the onely feare, thou art, Dear, and dread Saviour, of my sin-sick heart. Thine heart thou gavest, that it might be mine: Take thou mine heart then, that it may be thine.

ODE. 18

1.

Give thee mine heart? Lord so I would, And there's great reason that I should, If it were worth the having: Yet sure thou wilt esteem that good, Which thou hast purchas'd with thy bloud, And thought it worth the craving.

2.

Give thee mine heart? Lord, so I will, ••f thou wilt first impart the skill Of bringing it to thee: But should I trust my selfe to give Mine heart, as sure as I doe live, I should deceived be.

3.

As all the value of mine heart Proceeds from favour, not desert, Acceptance is its worth:

So neither know I how to bring A present to my heav'nly King, Unlesse he set it forth.

4.

Lord of my life, me thinkes I heare Thee say, that thee alone to feare, And thee alone to love, Is to bestow mine heart on thee, That other giving none can be, Whereof thou wilt approve.

5.

And well thou dost deserve to be Both loved, Lord, and fear'd by me, So good, so great, thou art: Greatnesse so good, goodnesse so great, As passeth all finite conceit, And ravisheth mine heart.

6.

Should I not love thee, blessed Lord, Who freely of thine owne accord Laid'st downe thy life for me? For me, that was not dead alone, But desp'ratly transcendent grown In enmitie to thee?

7.

Should I not feare before thee, Lord, Whose hand spannes heaven, at whose word Devills themselves doe quake? Whose eyes out-shine the Sunne, whose beck Can the whole course of Nature check, And its, foundations shake?

8.

Should I with-bold mine heart from thee,

The fountaine of felicity, Before whose presence is Fulnesse of joy, at whose right hand All pleasures in perfection stand, And everlasting blisse?

9.

Lord, had I hearts a million, And myriads in ev'ry one Of choisest loves, and feares, They were too little to bestow On thee, to whom I all things owe, I should be in arreares.

10.

Yet, since mine heart's the most I have, And that which thou dost chiefely crave, Thou shalt not of it misse. Although I cannot give it so, As I should doe, I'll offer't though: Lord take it, here it is.

Embleme 19.

[illustration]

CORDIS SACRIFICIVM.

Sacrficium Deo spiritus Contribulatus. Psal. 50. 19.

Non vituli caesiue Deo placet hostia tauri: COR mihi qui dedit hic COR sibi poscit amor.

The Sacrifice of the Heart.

PSAL 51.17.

The sacrifices of God are a broken heart.

Epigr. 19.

NOr calves, nor bulls, are sacrifices good Enough for thee, who gav'st for me thy bloud, And more then that, thy life: T••••k thine own part, Great God, that gavest all, bere•••••••• mine heart.

ODE. 19.

1.

Thy former covecant of old, Thy Law of Ordinances did require Fat sacrifices from the fold, And many other off rings made by fire. Whilst thy first Tabernacle stood, All things were consecrate with bloud.

2.

And can thy better Covenant, Thy law of grace, and truth by Jesus Christ, Its proper sacrifices want For such an Altar, and for such a Priest? No, no, thy Gospell doth require Choyse oft'rings too, and made by fire.

3.

A sacrifice for sinne indeed, Lord, thou didst make thy self, and once for all: So that there never will be need Of any more sin-oft'rings, great, or small.

The life-bloud thou did'st shed for me, Hath set my soule for ever free.

4.

Yea, the same sacrifice thou dost Still offer in behalfe of thine elect: And to improve it to the most, Thy Word, and Sacraments doe in effect Offer thee oft, and sacrifice Thee daily in our eares, and eyes.

5.

Yea, each beleeving soule may take Thy sacrificed flesh, and bloud by faith, And therewith an atonement make For all its trespasses, thy Gospell faith. Such infinite transcendent price Is there in thy sweet sacrifice.

6.

But is this all? Must there not be Peace-offerings, and sacrifices of Thanksgiving tendered unto thee? Yes, Lord, I know I should but mock, and scoffe Thy sacrifice for sinne, should I My sacrifice of praise deny.

7.

But I have nothing of mine owne Worthy to be presented in thy sight, Yea the whole world affords not one Or Ramme, or Lambe, wherein thou canst delight. Lesse then my self it must not be: For thou didst give thy self for me.

8.

My self then I must sacrifice: And so I will, mine heart, the onely thing

Thou dost above all other prize As thine owne part, the best I have to bring. An humble heart's a sacrifice, Which I know thou wilt not despise.

9.

Lord, be my altar, sanctifie Mine heart thy sacrifice, and let thy Spirit Kindle thy fire of love, that I, Burning with zeale to magnifie thy merit, May both consume my sinnes, and raise Eternall trophies to thy praise.

Embleme 20.

[illustration]

CORDIS PONDERATIO.

Appendit CORDA Dominus. proverb. 21. 2.

Quode mihi donasti, magno pro munere non est Si neget hoc. iusti ponderis aequa bilanx.

Michel van lochem excu.

The weighing of the Heart.

PROV. 21.2.

The Lord pondereth the heart.

Epigr. 20.

THe heart thou giv'st as a great gift, my love, Brought to the triall nothing such will prove, Of Iustice equall ballance tell thy sight That weighed with my Law it is too light.

ODE 20.

1.

'Tis true indeed, an heart Such as it ought to be, Entire, and sound in ev'ry part, Is alwayes welcome unto me. He that would please me with an offering Cannot a better have, although he were a King.

2.

And there is none so poore, But if he will he may Bring me an heart, although no more, And on mine altar may it lay. The ••acric which I like best, is such As rich men cannot boast, and poore men need not grutch

3.

Yet ev'ry heart is not A gift sufficient, It must be purg'd from ev'ry spot, And all to pieces must be rent.

Though thou hast sought to circumcise, and bruiset, It must be weighed too, or else I shall refuse't.

4.

My ballances are just, My Law's an equall weight, The beame is strong, and thou maist trust My steady hand to hold it streight. Were thine heart equall to the world in light, Yet it were nothing worth, if it should prove too light.

5.

And so thou see'st it doth, My pond rous Law doth presse This scale, but that, as fill'd with froth, Tilts up, and makes no shew of stresse. Thine heart is empty sure, or else it would In weight, as well as bulke, better proportion hold.

6.

Search it, and thou shalt find It wants integrity, And is not yet so thorow lin'd With single ey'd sincerity, As it should be: some more humility There wants to make it weight, and some more con∣stancy.

7.

Whilst windy vanity Doth puffe it up with pride, And double-fac'd hypocrisie Doth many empty hollowes hide, It is but good in part, and that but little, Wav'ring unstaidnesse makes its resolutions brittle.

8.

The heart, that in my sight As currant coyne would passe,

Must not be the least graine too light, But as at first it stamped was. Keep then thine heart till it be better growne, And, when it is full weight, I'll take it for mine owne.

9.

But if thou art asham'd To find thine heart so light, And art afraid thou shalt be blam'd, I'll teach thee how to set it right. Adde to my Law my Gospell, and there see My merits thine, and then the scales will equall be.

Embleme 21.

[illustration]

CORDIS PROBATIO.

Sicut igne probatur argentum et aurum camino ifa CORDA probat Dominus. prouerb. 17. 3

COR rutilo, dilecta, tuum pretiosius auro. Impuram scoriam si prius ignic edat.

The trying of the Heart.

Prov. 17. 3.

The fining pot for silver, and the furnace for gold: but the Lord trieth the hearts.

Epigr. 21.

THine heart, my deer, more precious is then gold, Or the most precious things that can be told: Provided first that my pure fire have tri'd Out all the drosse, and passe it purifi'd.

ODE. 21.

1.

What? take it at adventure, and not try What metall it is made of? No, not I. Should I now lightly let it passe, Take sullen lead for silver, sounding brasse In stead of solid gold, alas, What would become of it? In the great day Of making jewells 'twould be cast away.

2.

The heart thou giv'st me must be such a one, As is the same throughout. I will have none But that, which will abide the fire. 'Tis not a glitt'ring outside I desire, Whose seeming shewes doe soone expire: But reall worth within, which neither drosse, Nor base allayes, make subject unto losse.

3.

If in the composition of thine heart

A stubborne steely wilfulnesse have part, That will not bow and bend to me, Save onely in a meer formality Of tinsell-trim'd hypocrisie, I care not for it, though it shew as faire, As the first blush of the Sun-gilded aire.

4.

The heart that in my furnace will not melt, When it the glowing heat thereof hath felt Turne liquid, and dissolve in teares Of true repentance for its faults, that heares My threatning voyce, and never feares, Is not an heart worth having. If it be An heart of stone, 'tis not an heart for me.

5.

The heart, that cast into my fornace spits, And sparkles in my face, falls into fits Of discontented grudging, whines When it is broken of its will, repines At the least suffering, declines My fatherly correction, is an heart On which I care not to bestow mine art.

6.

The heart that in my flames asunder flies, Scatters it selfe at randon, and so lies In heapes of ashes here, and there, Whose dry dispersed parts will not draw neer To one another, and adhere In a firme union, hath no metall in't Fit to be stamp'd, and coyned in my mint.

7.

The heart, that vapours out it selfe in smoak, And with those cloudy shadowes thinks to cloak

Its empty nakednesse, how much So ever thou esteemest it, is such As never will endure my touch. Before I tak't for mine then I will trie What kind of metall in thine heart doth lie.

8.

I'll bring it to my furnace, and there see What it will prove, what it is like to be. If it be gold, it will be sure The hottest fire that can be to endure, And I shall draw it out more pure. Affliction may refine, but cannot wast, That heart wherein my love is fixed fast.

Embleme 22.

[illustration]

CORDIS SCRVTINIVM

Prauum est COR ominum et inscrutabile: Quis cognoscet illud? Ego•• Dominus scrutans COR et renes. Jerem. 17. 9.

Solus egounmensam CORDIS perscrutor abysswn; Nautica quam potis est haud penetrare bolis.

Michel van Lochem excū

The sounding of the Heart.

JER. 17. 9.

The heart is deceitfull above all things, and desperatly wicked. who can know it? I the Lord.

Epigr. 22.

I, that alone am infinite, can try How deep within it self thine heart doth lie. The Sea-mans plummet can but reach the ground: I find that which thine heart it self ne'er found.

ODE. 22.

1.

A goodly heart to see to, faire and fat! It may be so: and what of that? Is it not hollow? Hath it not within A bottomlesse whirlpoole of sinne? Are there not secret creeks, and cranies there, Turning, and winding corners, where The heart it self ev'n from it self may hide, And lurke in secret unespi'd? I'll none of it, if such a one it prove: Truth in the inward parts is that I love.

2.

But who can tell what is within thine heart? 'Tis not a worke of Nature, Art Cannot performe that taske: 'tis I alone, Not man, to whom mans heart is knowne. Sound it thou maist, and must: but then the line

And plummet must be mine, not thine, And I must guide it too, thine hand, and eye May quickly be deceiv'd: but I, That made thine heart at first, am better skill'd To know when it is empty, when't is fill'd.

3.

Lest then thou should'st deceive thy self, for me Thou canst not, I will let thee see Some of those depths of Satan, depths of hell, Wherewith thine hollow heart doth swell. Under pretence of knowledge in thy mind Errour and ignorance I find, Quick-sands of rotten Superstition Spred over with misprision. Some things thou knowest not, misknowest others, And oft thy conscience its owne knowledge smothers.

4.

Thy crooked will, that seemingly enclines To follow reasons dictates, twines Another way in secret, leaves its guide And laggs behind, or swarves aside, Crab-like creepes backward when it should have made Progresse in good, is retrograde, Whilst it pretends a priviledge above Reasons prerogative, to move As of it self unmov'd, rude passions learne To leave the Oare, and take in hand the Sterne.

5.

The tides of thine affections ebbe, and flow, Rise up alost, fall downe below, Like to the suddaine land-flouds, that advance Their swelling waters but by chance. Thy love, desire, thy hope, delight, and feare, Ramble they care not when, nor where,

Yet cunningly beare thee in hand they be Only directed unto me, Or most to me, and would no notice take Of other things, but only for my sake.

6.

Such strange prodigious impostures lurke In thy prestigious heart, 'tis worke Enough for thee all thy life time to learne How thou may'st truly it discerne: That, when upon mine altar thou dost lay Thine off'ring, thou may'st safely say, And sweare it is an heart: for, if it should Prove only an heart-case, it would Nor pleasing be to me, nor doe thee good. An heart's no heart not rightly understood.

Embleme 23.

[illustration]

CORDIS RECTIFICATIO.

Rectis CORDE Laetitia Psal. 96. 11.

Ad rectam, persaepe, mei. COR Cordis, amussim, Si rectum cupias, exige nata, tuum.

Michel van Lochem excū

The levelling of the Heart.

PSAL. 97. 11.

Gladnesse to the upright in heart.

Epigr. 23.

SEt thine heare upright, if thou would'st reioyce, And please thy self in thine hearts pleasing choise: But then be sure thy plimme, and levell be Rightly appli'd to that which pleaseth me.

ODE. 23.

1.

Nay, yet I have not done: one triall more Thine heart must undergo, before I will accept of it: Unlesse I see It upright be, I cannot think it fit To be admitted in my sight, And to partake of mine eternall light.

2.

My Will's the rule of righteousnesse, as free From errour as uncertainty: What I would have is just. Thou must desire What I require, And take it upon trust: If thou preferre thy will to mine, The levell's lost, and thou go'st out of line.

3.

Do'st thou not see how thine heart turnes aside,

And leanes toward thy self? How wide A distance there is here? Untill I see Both sides agree Alike with mine, 'tis cleer The middle is not where't should be, Likes something better, though it looke at me.

4.

I, that know best how to dispose of thee, Would have thy portion poverty, Lest wealth should make thee proud, And me forget: But thou hast set Thy voyce to cry aloud For riches, and unlesse I grant All that thou wishest, thou complain'st of want.

5.

I, to preserve thine health, would have thee fast From Natures dainties, lest at last Thy senses sweet delight Should end in smart: But thy vaine heart Will have its appetite Pleased to day, though grief, and sorrow Threaten to cancell all thy joyes tomorrow.

6.

I, to prevent thine hurt by climing high, Would have thee be content to lie Quiet and safe below, Where peace doth dwell; But thou dost swell With vast desires, as though A little blast of vulgar breath Were better then deliverance from death.

7.

••, to procure thine happinesse, would have Thee mercy at mine hands to crave: But thou dost merit plead, And wilt have none But of thine owne, Till Justice strike thee dead. Thus still thy wand'ring wayes decline, And all thy crooked paths go crosse to mine.

Embleme 24.

[illustration]

CORDIS RENOVATIO.

Dabo uobis COR nouum, et spiritum nouum ponam in medio uestri. Ezeth. 36. 26.

Ciuinoua cuncta placent, vetus ••COR pone nouum{que}, Quod tibi pro veteri sponsa repono cape.

Michel van lochem excu.

The renewing of the Heart.

EZEK. 36. 26.

A new heart will I give you, and a new spirit will I put within you.

Epigr. 24.

ARt thou delighted with strange novelties, Which often prove but old fresh garnisht lies? Leave then thine old, take the new heart I give thee: Condemne thy self, that so I may reprieve thee.

ODE. 24.

1.

No, no, I see There is no remedy, An heart, that wants both weight, and worth, That's fill'd with naught but empty hollownesse, And screw'd aside with stubborne wilfulnesse, Is onely fit to be cast forth, Nor to be given me Nor kept by thee.

2.

Then let it goe, And if thou wilt bestow An acceptable heart on me, I'll surnish thee with one shall serve the turne, Both to be kept, and given: which will burne With zeale, yet not consumed be: Nor with a scornfull eye Blast standers by.

3.

The heart, that I Will give thee, though it lie Buri'd in seas of sorrowes, yet Will not be drown'd with doubt, or discontent, Though sad complaints sometimes may give a vent To grief, and teares the cheeks may wet, Yet it exceeds their art To hurt this heart.

4.

The heart I give, Though it desire to live, And bath it self in all content, Yet will not toyle, or taint it self, with any: Although it take a view, and tast of many, It feeds on few, as though it meant To break fast only here, And dine elsewhere.

5.

This heart is fresh, And new: an heart of flesh, Not, as thine old one was, of stone. A lively sp'ritly heart, and moving still, Active to what is good, but slow to ill: An heart, that with a figh, and grone Can blast all worldly joyes, As trifling toyes.

6.

This heart is sound, And solid will be found; 'Tis not an empty ayrie flash, That baites at Butterflies, and with full cry Opens at ev'ry flirting vanity. It sleights, and scornes such paltry trash:

But for eternity Dares live, or die.

7.

I know thy mind: Thou seek'st content to find In such things as are new, and strange. Wander no further then: lay by thine old, Take the new heart I give thee, and be bold To boast thy self of the exchange, And say, that a new heart Exceeds all art.

Embleme 25.

[illustration]

CORDIS ILLVMINATIO.

Illuminabuntur CORDA uestra. Eccli. 2. 10.

Lux de luce Deus coeci lux vnica mundi, CORDE graues tenebras discute luce tua,

Michel van lochem excu.

The enlightening of the Heart.

PSAL. 34.5.

They looked unto him, and were lightened.

Epigr. 25.

THou that art Light of lights, the onely sight Of the blind world, lend me thy saving light: Disperse those mists, which in my soule have made Darkenesse as deepe as hells eternall shade.

ODE. 25.

1.

Alas, that I Could not before espie The soule-confounding misery Of this, more then Egyptian, dreadfull night! To be deprived of the light, And to have eyes, but eyes devoid of sight, As mine have been, is such a woe, As he alone can know, That feeles it so.

2.

Darknesse hath been My God and me between Like an opacous doubled skreen, Through which nor light, nor heat could passage sind. Grosse ignorance hath made my mind, And understanding not bleer-ey'd, but blind; My will to all that's good is cold, Nor can I, though I would, Doe what I should.

3.

No, now I see There is no remedy Left in my self: it cannot be That blind men in the darke should find the way To blessednesse: although they may Imagine that high midnight is noone-day, As I have done till now, they'll know At last unto their woe, 'Twas nothing so.

4.

Now I perceive Presumption doth bereave Men of all hope of helpe, and leave Them, as it finds them, drown'd in misery: Despairing of themselves, to cry For mercy is the only remedy That sinne-sicke soules can have: to pray Against this darknesse may Turne it to day.

5.

Then unto thee, Great Lord of light, let me Direct my prayer, that I may see. Thou, that did'st make mine eyes, canst soone restore That pow'r of sight they had before, And, if thou seest it good, canst give them more. The night will quickly shine like day, If thou doe but display One glorious ray.

6.

I must confesse, And I can doe no lesse,

Thou art the Sun of righteousnesse: There's healing in thy wings: thy light is life; My darkenesse death. To end all strife, Be thou mine husband, let me be thy wife. Then both the light, and life that's thine, Though light, and life divine, Will all be mine.

Embleme 26.

[illustration]

CORDIS TABVLA LEGES.

Dabo legem meam in uiscebus eorum, et in CORDE eorum scribam eam Jerem. 31. 33.

Scribo nouam teneri nunc CORDIS in aequore legem, Cum vetus in duris sit mihi scripta petris.

Michel uan lochem excū

The table of the Heart.

IER. 31.33.

I will put my Law in their inward parts, and write it in their hearts.

Epigr. 26.

IN the soft table of thine heart I'll write A new Law, which I newly will indite. Hard stony tables did containe the old: But tender leaves of flesh shall this infold.

ODE. 26.

1.

What will thy sight Availe thee, or my light, If there be nothing in thine heart to see Acceptable to me? A self-writ heart will not Please me, or doe thee any good, I wot, The paper must be thine, The writing mine.

2.

What I indite 'Tis I alone can write, And write in bookes that I my self have made. 'Tis not an easie trade To read or write, in hearts: They that are skilfull in all other arts, When they take this in hand, Areat a stand.

3.

My Law of old Tables of stone did hold, Wherein I writ what I before had spoken, Yet were they quickly broken: A signe the Covenant Contain'd in them would due observance want. Nor did they long remaine Coppy'd again.

4.

But now I'll try What force in flesh doth lie: Whether thine heart renew'd afford a place Fit for my Law of grace. This covenant is better Then that, though glorious, of the killing letter. This gives life, not by merit, But by my Spirit.

5.

When in mens hearts, And their most inward parts, I by my Spirit write my Law of love, They then begin to move, Not by themselves, but me, And their obedience is their liberty. There are no slaves, but those That serve their foes.

6.

When I have writ My Covenant in it, View thine heart by my light, and thou shalt see A present fit for me. The worth for which I look,

Lies in the lines, not in the leaves of th'book. Course paper may be lin'd With words refin'd.

7.

And such are mine. No furnace can refine The choisest silver so to make it pure, As my Law put in ure Purgeth the hearts of men: Which being rul'd, and written with my Pen, My Spirit, ev'ry letter Will make them better.

Embleme 27.

[illustration]

ARATIO CORDIS.

Conuertar ad vos, et arabimini, et accipietis sementem. Ezech. 36. 9.

CORDIS agrum. Crucis cia tue proscindat aratium Cui verbi inspergas semina, Sponse tui.

Michel uan sochem, excū

The tilling of the Heart.

EZEK. 36. 9.

I will turne unto you, and yee shall be tilled, and sowne.

Epigr. 27.

MIne heart's a field, thy crosse a plow: be pleas'd Dear Spouse, to till it, till the mould be rais'd Fit for the seeding of thy word: then sow, And if thou shine upon it, it will grow.

ODE. 27.

1.

So, now me thinks I find Some better vigour in my mind, My will begins to move, And mine affections stirre towards things above: Mine heart growes bigge with hope it is a field, That some good fruit may yeeld, If it were till'd, as it should be, Not by my self, but thee.

2.

Great Husbandman, whose pow'r All difficulties can devour, And doe what likes thee best, Let not thy field, mine heart, lie lay, and rest, Lest it be over-runne with noysome weeds, That spring of their own seeds: Unlesse thy grace the growth should stoppe, Sinne would be all my croppe.

3.

Break up my fallow ground, That there may not a clod be found To hide one root of sinne. Apply thy plow betime: now, now beginne To furrow up my stiffe, and starvy heart, No matter for the smart, Al though it roare, when it is rent, Let not thine hand relent.

4.

Corruption's rooted deep, Showres of repentant teares must steep The mould to make it soft: It must be stirr'd, and turn'd, not once, but oft. Let it have all its seasons. O impart The best of all thine art. For, of it self it is so tough, All will be but enough.

5.

Or, if it be thy will To teach me, let me learne the skill. My self to plow mine heart: The profit will be mine, and 'tis my part To take the paines, and labour, though th' encrease Without thy blessing cease: If fit for nothing else, yet thou May'st make me draw thy Plow.

6.

Which of thy Plowes thou wilt, For thou hast more then one. My guilt, Thy wrath, thy rods, are all Plowes fit to teare mine heart to pieces small: And, when in these it apprehends thee neer,

'Tis furrowed with fear: Each weed turn'd under hides its head, And shewes as it were dead.

7.

But, Lord, thy blessed passion Is a Plow of another fashion, Better then all the rest. Oh fasten me to that, and let the best Of all my powers strive to draw it in, And leave no roome for sinne. The vertue of thy death can make Sinne its fast hold for sake.

Embleme 28.

[illustration]

SEMINATIO IN COR.

Verbum seminatum est in CORDE. M••••. 13. 10.

Semina iam terrce manda, diuine colone. Ne nostri, sterilis, sit tibi CORDIS ager.

Michel van Lochem excū

The seeding of the Heart.

LVKE 8.15.

That on the good ground are they, which with an honest, and good heart, having heard the Word, keep it, and bring forth fruit with patience.

Epigr. 28.

Left the field of mine heart should unto thee, Great Husbandman that mad'st it, barren be, Manure the ground, then come thy self and seed it; And let thy servants water it, and weed it.

ODE. 28.

1.

Nay, blessed Lord, Unlesse thou wilt afford Manure, as well as tillage, to thy field, It will not yeeld That fruit which thou expectest it should beare: The ground I feare Will still remaine Barren of what is good: and all the graine It will bring forth, As of its owne accord, will not be worth The paines of gathering So poore a thing.

2.

Some faint desire,

That quickly will expire, Wither, and die, is all thou canst expect. If thou neglect To sow it now 'tis ready, thou shalt find That it will blind, And harder grow Then at the first it was. Thou must bestow Some further cost, Else all thy former labour will be lost. Mine heart no corne will breed Without thy seed.

3.

Thy Word is seed, And manure too: will seed, As well as fill mine neare, If once it were Well rooted there, It would come on apace: O then neglect No time: expect No better season. Now, now thy field mine heart is ready; reason Surrenders now, Now my rebellious will begins to bow, And mine affections are Tamer by farre.

4.

Lord, I have laine Barren too long, and faine I would redeem the time, that I may be Fruitfull to thee, Fruitfull in knowledge, faith, obedience, Ere I goe hence: That when I come At harvest to be reaped, and brought home; Thine Angels may

My soule in thy celestiall garner lay, Where perfect joy, and blisse Eternall is.

5.

If, to intreat A crop of purest wheat, A blessing too transcendent should appeare For me to beare, Lord, make me what thou wilt, so thou wilt take What thou do'st make, And not disdaine To house me, though amongst thy coursest graine, So I may be Laid with the gleanings gathered by thee, When the full sheaves are spent, I am content.

Embleme 29.

[illustration]

CORDLS IRRIGATIO.

Rigabo hortum meum Plantationum. Ecc. 24.42.

Telluri clausum, coelo patet: implue rorem, CORDIS ab hoc vario flore virescet humus.

Michel van Lochem excudit

The watering of the Heart.

ISA. 27. 3.

I the Lord doe keep it. I will water it eve∣ry moment.

Epigr. 29.

CLose downwards tow'rds the earth, open above Tow'rds heaven mine heart is O let thy love Distill in fructifying dewes of grace, And then mine heart will be a pleasant place.

ODE. 29.

1.

See how this dry, and thirsty land, Mine heart, doth gaping gasping stand, And close below opens towards heav'n, and thee. Thou fountaine of felicity, Great Lord of living waters, water me: Let not my breath that pants with paine, Waste, and consume it selfe in vaine.

2.

The mists, that from the earth doe rise, An heav'n-borne heart will not suffice: Coole it without they may, but cannot quench The scalding heat within, nor drench Its dusty dry desires, or fill one trench. Nothing, but what comes from on high, Can heav'n-bred longings satisfie.

3.

See how the seed, which thou did'st sow

Lies parch'd, and wither'd, will not grow Without some moisture, and mine heart hath none, That it can truly call its owne, By nature of it self, more then a stone: Unlesse thou water't, it will lie Drowned in dust, and still be dry.

4.

Thy tender plants can never thrive, Whilst want of water doth deprive Their roots of nourishment: which makes them call, And cry to thee, great All in All, That seasonable show'rs of grace may fall, And water them: thy Word will do't, If thou vouchsafe thy blessing to't.

5.

O then be pleased to unseal Thy fountaine, blessed Saviour, deal Some drops at least, wherewith my drooping spirits May be revived. Lord, thy merits Yeeld more refreshing then the world inherits: Rivers, yea seas, but ditches are, If with thy springs we them compare.

6.

If not whole show'rs of raine, yet Lord, A little pearly dew afford, Begot by thy celestiall influence On some chast vapour, raised hence To be partaker of thine excellence: A little, if it come from thee, Will be of great availe to me.

7.

Thou boundlesse Ocean of grace, Let thy free spirit have a place Within mine heart: full rivers then I know

Of living waters forth will flow, And all thy plants, thy fruits, and flow'rs will grow. Whilst thy Springs their roots doe nourish, They must needs be far, and flourish.

Embleme 30.

[illustration]

COR^DIS FLORES.

Dilectus meus descendit in hortum suum. ut lilia colligat. Cant. 6.1.

Haec tibi nata tuo de semine. consecro, sponse Lilia. et his patrium floribus addo solum.

Michel van lochem excu.

The flowers of the Heart.

CANT. 6. 2.

My beloved is gone downe into his gar∣den to the beds of spices, to feed in the gardens, and to gather lillies.

Epigr. 30.

THese lillies I doc consecrate to thee, Beloved Spouse, which spring as thou mai'st see, Out of the seed thou sowedst, and the ground Is better'd by thy Flow'rs, when they abound.

ODE. 31.

1.

Is there a joy like this? What can augment my blisse? If my beloved will accept A posie of these flowers kept, And consecrated unto his content, I hope hereafter he will not repent The cost, and paines he hath bestow'd So freely upon me, that ow'd Him all I had before, And infinitly more.

2.

Nay, try them, blessed Lord, Take them not on my word, But let the colour, tast, and smell, The truth of their perfections tell. Thou that art infinite in wisdome see,

If they be not the same that came from thee. If any difference be found, It is occasion'd by the ground, Which yet I cannot see So good as it should be.

3.

What say'st thou to that Rose, That queen of flowers, whose Maidenly blushes, fresh, and faire, Out-brave the dainty morning aire? Dost thou not in those lovely leaves espy The perfect picture of that modesty, That self-condemning shamesastnesse, That is more ready to confesse A fault, and to amend, Then it is to offend?

4.

Is not this Lilly pure? What Fuller can procure A white so perfect, spotlesse, clear, As in this flower doth appear? Do st thou not in this milky colour see The lively lustre of sincerity, Which no hypocrisie hath painted, Nor self-respecting ends have tainted? Can there be to thy sight A more entire delight?

5.

Or wilt thou have beside Violets purple-di'd? The Sun-observing Marigold, Or Orpin never waxing old, The Primrose; Cowslip, Gilliflow'r, or Pinke, Or any flow'r, or herbe, that I can think

Thou hast a mind unto? I shall Quickly be furnisht with them all, If once I doe but know That thou wilt have it so.

6.

Faith is a fruitfull grace, Well planted stores the place, Fills all the borders, beds, and bow'rs With wholsome herbs, and pleasant flow'rs. Great Gardiner, thou saist, and I beleeve, What thou do'st meane to gather thou wilt give. Take then mine heart in hand to fill't, And it shall yeeld thee what thou wilt. Yea thou, by gath'ring more, Shalt still increase my store.

Embleme 31.

[illustration]

BALNEVM CORDIS, EX SVDORE SANGVINEO.

Multo labore sudatum est, et non exiuit de eâ nimia rubigo eius. Erech. 24. 12.

Balnea. sanguinei sponsi sudata cruore. COR agrum hic tibi quae dat Paradisus. adi.

Michel uan lochem excū

The keeping of the Heart.

PROV. 4. 23.

Keepe thy heart with all diligence.

Epigr. 31.

LIke to a garden, that is closed round, That heart is safely kept, which still is found Compust with care, and guarded with the feare Of God, as with a flaming sword, and speare.

ODE 31.

The Soule. 1.

Lord, wilt thou suffer this? Shall vermine spoile The fruit of all thy toyle, Thy trees, thine herbs, thy plants, thy flow'rs thus: And for an overplus Of spite, and malice overthrow thy mounds, Lay common all thy grounds? Canst thou endure thy pleasant garden should Be thus turn'd up as ordinary mould?

Christ. 2.

What is the matter? why do'st thou complaine? Must I as well maintaine, And keep, as make thy fences? wilt thou take No paines for thine own sake? Or doth thy self-confounding fancy feare thee, When there's no danger neer thee? Speak out thy doubts, and thy desires, and tell me, What enemy or can, or dares to quell thee?

The Soule. 3.

Many, and mighty, and malicious, Lord, That seek, with one accord, To work my speedy ruine, and make haste To lay thy garden waste. The devill is a ramping roaring lion, Hates at his heart thy Zion, And never gives it respit day, nor houre, But still goes seeking whom he may devoure.

4.

The world's a wildernesse, wherein I find Wild beasts of ev'ry kind, Foxes, and Wolves, and Dogs, and Boares, and Bears And which augments my feares, Eagles and Vultures, and such birds of prey, Will not be kept away: Besides the light-abhorring Owles, and Bats, And secret corner-creeping Mice and Rats.

5.

But these, and many more would not dismay Me much, unlesse there lay One worse then all within, my self I meane, My false, unjust, unclean, Faithlesse, disloyall self, that both entice, And entertaine each vice. This homebred traiterous partaking's worse, Then all the violence of forain force.

6.

Lord, thou maist see my feares are grounded, rise Not from a bare surmise, Or doubt of danger only, my desires Are but what need requires, Of thy divine protection, and defence To keep these vermine hence:

Which, if they should not be restrain'd by thee, Would grow too strong to be kept out by me.

Christ. 7.

Thy scare is just, and I approve thy care. But yet thy comsorts are Provided for, ev'n in that care, and feare: Whereby it doth appeare Thou hast what thou destrest, my protection To keep thee from defection. The heart that cares, and scares, is kept by me. I watch thee, whilst thy foes are watch'd by thee.

Embleme 32.

[illustration]

CORDIS VIGILIA.

Ego dormio, et COR meum uigilat. Cant. 5. 2

Te vigil exquirit COR, dum sopor occupat artus. Nec sine te noctu nec potis esse die.

Michel uan lochem excū

The watching of the Heart.

CANT. 5. 2.

I sleep, but my heart woketh.

Epigr. 32.

WHilst the soft bands of sleep tie up my sences, My watchfull heart, free from all such pre••ences, Searches for thee, enquires of all about thee, Nor day, nor night, able to be without thee.

ODE. 32.

1.

It must be so: that God that gave Me senses, and a mind, would have Me use them both, but in their severall kinds. Sleep must refresh my senses, but my minds A sparke of heav'nly fire, that feeds On action, and employment, needs No time of rest: for, when it thinks to please Itself with idlenesse, 'tis least a•• ease. Though quiet rest refresh the head, The heart that stirres not sure is dead.

2.

Whilst then my body ease doth take, My rest refusing heart ••all wake: And that mine heart the better watch may keep, I'll lay my senses for a time to sleep. Wanton de' re•• shall not entice, Nor lust enveigle them to vice: No sading colours shall allure my sight,

Nor sounds enchant mine eares with their delight: I'll bind my smell, my touch, my tast, To keep a strict religions fast.

3.

My worldly businesse shall lie still, That heav'nly thoughts my mind may fill: My Marthaes cumb'ring cares shall cease their noise, That Mary may attend her better choise. That meditation may advance Mine heart on purpose, not by chance, My body shall keep holy day, that so My mind with better liberty may goe About her bus'nesse, and ingrosse That gaine, which worldly men count losse.

4.

And though my senses sleep the while, My mind my senses shall beguile With dreames of thee, dear Lord, whose rare perfections Of excellence are such, that bare inspections Cannot suffice my greedy soule, Nor her fierce appetite controule, But that the more ske lookes the more she longs, And strives to thrust into the thickest throngs Of those divine discoveries, Which dazell even Angels eyes.

5.

Oh could I lay aside this flesh, And follow after thee with fresh And free desires, my disentangled soule, Ravisht with admiration, should roule It self, and all its thoughts on thee, And by beleeving strive to see, What is invisible to flesh and blood, And only by fruition understood,

The beauty of each sev'rall grace, That shines in thy Sunne-shaming face.

6.

But what I can doe that I will, Waking and sleeping, seek thee still: I'll leave no place unpri'd into behind me, Where I can but imàgine I may find thee: I'll aske of all I meet, if they Can tell thee where thou art, which way Thou go'st, that I may follow after thee, Which way thou com'st, that thou mai'st meet with me. If not thy face, Lord, let mine heart Behold with Moses thy back part.

Embleme 33.

[illustration]

CORDIS VVLNERATIO.

Tetendit arcum suum. et posuit me quasi signum ad sagittam. Thren. 3.12.

Mille COR hoc validis, mea lux, transfige sagittis. Pharmaca first tua quae vulnera dextra facit.

Michel van Lochem excū

The wounding of the Heart.

LAM. 3.12.

He hath bent his bow, and set me as a mark for the arrow.

Epigr. 33.

A Thousand of thy strongest shasts, my light, Draw up against this heart with all thy might, And strike it through: They, that in need doe stand Of cure, are healed by thy wounding hand.

ODE. 33.

1.

Nay, spare me not dear Lord, it cannot be They should be hurt, that wounded are by thee. Thy shafts will heale the hearts they hit, And to each sore its salve will fit. All hearts by Nature are both sick, and sore, And mine as much as any else, or more: There is no place that's free from sinne, Neither without it, nor within, And universall maladies doe crave Variety of medicines to have.

2.

First, let the arrow of thy piercing eye, Whose light outvieth the star-spangled skie, Strike through the darknesse of my mind, And leave no cloudy mist behind. Let thy resplendent rayes of knowledge dart Bright beames of understanding to mine heart,

To my sinne-shadow'd heart, wherein Black ignorance did first begin To blurre thy beauteous Image, and deface The glory of thy self-sufficing grace.

3.

Next let the shaft of thy sharp-pointed pow'r Discharged by that strength that can devour All difficulties, and encline Stout opposition to resigne Its steely stubbornene, subdue my will, Make it hereafter ready to fulfill Thy royall Law of righteousnesse, As gladly, as I must confesse It hath fulfilled heretofore th' unjust, Prophane, and cruell lawes of its own lust.

4.

Then let that love of thine, which made thee leave The bol••••••e of thy Father, and be••ea••e Thy self of thy transcendent glory, Master for an eternall story, Strike through mine affections all together, And let that Sun-shine cleer the cloudy weather, Wherein they wander without guide, 〈…〉〈…〉 as the wind, and tide O〈…〉〈…〉 unite, transport, and ••o•••• them, Till ••••-begotten trouble ••••rbe and cro••e them.

5

Lo••d, empty all thy Quivers, let there be No corner of my spacio as heart le••••tree, Till all be but one wo••••d, wherein No subtill sight abho••ring sinne May l••••k in secret unespi'dly me, Or reigne in power un••••••••••d by thee. Perfect thy purchas'd victory,

That thou mai'st ride triumphantly, And leading captive all captivity Mai'st put an end to enmity in me.

6.

Then, blessed Archer, in requitall I To shoote thine arrowes back again will try. By pray'rs, and praises, sighs, and sobs, By vowes, and teares, by groans, and throbs, I'll see if I can pierce, and wound thine heart, And vanquish thee againe by thine own art. Or, that we may at once provide For all mishaps that may betide, Shoot thou thy self, thou polisht shaft, to me, And I will shoot my broken heart to thee.

Embleme 34.

[illustration]

CORDIS INHABITATIO

Misit Deus spiritum filii sui in CORDA nostra. Galat. 4.6.

Spiritus, ô mea lux, CORDlS, tuus, incolat aedem. Sponse, vt amore tuc mî redameris, amans.

Michel uan lochem excū

The inhabiting of the Heart.

GAL. 4.6.

God hath sent forth the Spirit of his Son into your hearts.

Epigr. 34.

MIne heart's an house my light, and thou canst tell There's roome enough O let thy Spirit dwell For ever there: that so thou mai'st love me, And being lov'd I may againe love thee.

ODE. 34.

1.

Welcome, great guest, this house, mine heart, Shall all be thine: I will resigne Mine interest in ev'ry part: Only be pleas'd to use it as thine own For ever, and inhabite it alone: There's roome enough, and if the furniture Were answerably fitted, I am sure Thou would'st be well content to stay, And by thy light Possesle my sight With sense of an eternall day,

2.

It is thy building, Lord, 'twas made At thy command, And still doth stand Upheld, and shelter'd by the shade

Of thy protecting providence: though such As is decaied, and impaired much, Since the removall of thy residence, When with thy ••ra••e••••ry departed hence, It hath been all this while an Inne To intertaine The vile, and vaine, And wicked ••••••apanies of sinne.

3.

AIthough' the ••••tan house of clay, Fram'd out of dust, And such as must, Dissolved be, yet it was gay, And glorious indeed, when ev'ry place Was furnished, and sitted with thy grace: When in the Presence-chamber of my mind, The bright Sun-beames of perfect knowledge shin'd: When my will was thy Bed-chamber, And ev'ry pow'r A stately Tow'r Sweetned with thy Spirits amber.

4.

But whilst thou do'st thy self absent, It is not grown Noysome alone, But all to pieces torne, and rent. The windowes all are stopt, or broken so, That no light without wind can thorow goe. The roofe's uncover'd, and the wall's decai'd, The door's flung off the hooks, the floor's unlai'd. Yea, the foundation rotten is, And every where It doth appeare All that remaines is farre amisse,

5.

But if thou wilt returne againe, And dwell in me, Lord, thou shalt see What care I'll take to intertaine Thee, though not like thy self, yet in such sort, As thou wilt like, and I shall thank thee for't. Lord, let thy blessed Spirit Keep possession, And all things will be well; at least consession Shall tell thee what's amisse in me, And then thou shalt Or mend the fault, Or take the blame of all on thee.

Embleme 35.

[illustration]

CORDIS DILATATIO.

Viam mandatorum tuorum cucurri, cum dilatasti COR meum Psal 118.52.

Quam volupe est quod amare prius COR duxit amarum. Angustam lato currere CORDE viam!

Michel uan lochem excū

The enlarging of the Heart.

PSAL. 119.32.

I will runne the way of thy Commande∣ments, when thou shalt enlarge my heart.

Epigr. 35.

HOw pleasant is that now, which heretofore Mine heart held bitter, Jacred learnings lore? Enlarged hearts enter with greatest case The strauest paths, and runne the narrowest wayes.

ODE. 35.

1.

What a blessed change I find, Since I intertain'd this guest! Now me thinks another mind Moves and rules within my brest. Surely I am not the same, That I was before he came, But I then was much too blame.

2.

When before my God commanded Any thing he would have done, I was close, and gripple-handed, Made an end ere I begunne. If he thought it fit to lay Judgements on me, I could say They are good, but shirnke away.

3.

All the wayes of righteousnesse

I did think were full of trouble, I complain'd of tediousnesse, And each duty seemed double. Whilst I serv'd him but of feare, Ev'ry minute did appeare Longer farre then a whole yeare.

4.

Strictnesse in Religion seemed Like a pined pinion'd thing: Bolts, and fetters I esteemed More beseeming for a King, Then for me to bow my neck, And be at anothers beck, When I felt my conscience check.

5.

But the case is alter'd now: He no sooner turnes his eye, But I quickly bend, and bow, Ready at his feet to lie: Love hath taught me to obey All his precepts, and to say, Not tomorrow, but to day.

6.

What he wills I say I must: What I must I say I will: He commanding, it is just What he would I should fulfill. Whilst he biddeth I beleeve What he calls for he will give. To obey him is to live.

7.

His command'ments grievous are not Longer then men think them so:

Though he send me forth I care not, Whilst he gives me strength to goe. When, or whither, all is one, On his bus'nesse, not mine owne, I shall never goe alone.

8.

If I be compleat in him, And in him all fulnesse dwelleth. I am sure aloft to swim, Whilst that Ocean overswelleth, Having him that's All in All, I am confident I shall Nothing want, for which I call.

Embleme 36.

[illustration]

CORDIS INFLAMMATIO.

Concaluit COR meummtra me etm meditatione mea exardescet ignis Psal. 38.4.

Perge Amoret succende mei penetralia CORDIS: Viuat vt in patrio, ceu Salamandra, rogo.

Michel uan lochem excū

The inflaming of the Heart.

PSAL. 39.3.

my heart was hot within me: while I was musing the fire burned.

Epigr. 36.

SPare not, my love, to kindle, and enflame Mine heart within throughout, untill the same Breake forth, and burne: that so, thy Salamander, Mine heart my never from thy furnace wander.

ODE. 36.

1.

Welcome, holy, heavenly fire, Kindled by immortall love: Which descending from above, Makes all earthly thoughts retire, And give place To that grace, Which with gentle violence Conquers all corrupt affections, Rebell Natures insurrections, Bidding them be packing hence.

2.

Lord, thy fire doth heat within, Warmeth not without alone; Though it be an heart of stone, Of it self congeal'd in sinne, Hard as steel, If it feel

Thy dissolving pow'r, it groweth Soft as waxe, and quickly takes Any print thy Spirit make, Paying what thou sai'st it oweth.

3.

Of it self mine heart is dark, But thy sire by shining bright, Fills it full of saving light Though't be but a little spark Lent by thee, I shall see More by it, then all the light, Which in fullest measures streames From corrupted Natures beames, Can discover to my sight.

4.

Though mine heart be ice, and snow, To the things which thou hast chosen, All benum'd with cold, and frozen, Yet thy fire will make it glow. Though it burnes, When it turnes Tow'rds the things which thou do'st hate: Yet thy blessed warmth, no doubt, Will that wild-fire soone draw out, And the heat thereof abate.

5.

Lord, thy fire is active, using Alwayes either to ascend To its native heav'n, or lend Heat to others: and diffusing Of it store Gathers more, Never ceasing till it make

All things like it selfe, and longing To see others come with thronging Of thy goodnesse to partake.

6.

Lord, then let thy fire enflame My cold heart so thoroughly, That the heat may never die, But continue still thr same: That I may Ev'ry day More, and more, consuming sinne, Kindling others, and attending All occasions of ascending, Heaven upon earth begin,

Embleme 37.

[illustration]

CORDIS SCALAE.

Ascensiones in CORDE suo disposuit. Psal. 6••

Vin scalis, dilecta, poli conscendere sedes. Hic prius in proprio construe CORDE gradus.

Michel uan lochem e••cu

The ladder of the Heart.

PSAL. 84.5.

In whose heart are the wayes of them.

Epigr. 37.

WOuld'st thou, my love, a ladder have, whereby Thou mai'st climbe heaven to sit downe on high? In thine owne heart then frame thee steps, and bend Thy mind to muse how thou mai'st there ascend.

ODE. 37.

The Soule. 1.

What? Shall I Alwayes lie Grov'ling on earth, Where there is no mirth? Why should I not ascend, And climbe up, where I may mend My meane estate of misery? Happinesse I know's exceeding high: Yet sure there is some remedy for that.

Christ. 2.

True, There is. Perfect blisse, The fruit of love, May be had above: But he, that will obtaine Such a gold-exceeding gaine, Must never think to reach the same, And scale heav'ns walls, untill he frame A ladder in his heart as near as new.

The Soule. 3.

Lord, I will: But the skill Is not mine owne: Such an art's not knowne, Unlesse thou wilt it teach: It is farre above the reach Of mortall minds to understand. But if thou wilt lend thine helping hand, I will endeavour to obey thy Word.

Christ. 4.

Well Then, see That thou be As ready prest To performe the rest, As now to promise faire, And I'll teach thee how to reare A scaling-ladder in thine heart To mount heaven with: no rules of art, But I alone, can the composure tell.

5.

First, Thou must Take on trust All that I say, Reason must not sway Thy judgement crosse to mine, But her Scepter quite resigne. Faith must be both thy ladder sides, Which will stay thy steps what e'er betides, And satisfie thine hunger, and thy thirst.

6.

Then, The round Next the ground, Which I must see; Is Has ilitie: From which thou must ascend, And with perseverance end. Vertue to ve••••••e, grace to grace, Must each orderly succeed in'ts place. And when thou hast done all beginne againe.

Embleme 38.

[illustration]

CORDIS VOLATVS.

Quae sursum sunt quaerite, quae sursum sunt sapite. Colloss. 3.1.

Quis mihi Chaonij geminas dabitalius alas. & Pertaesum terrae queis COR ad astra volet?

Michel uan lochem excū

The flying of the Heart.

ISA. 60.5.

who are these that fly as a cloud, and as the Doves to their windowes?

Epigr. 38.

OH that mine heart had wings like to a Dove, That I might quickly hasten hence, and move With speedy flight tow'rds the cel••stiall spheares, As weary of this world, its faults, and feares!

ODE. 38.

1.

This way, though pleasant, yet me thinks is long: Step after step makes little haste, And I am not so strong As still to last Among So great So many lets: Swelter'd and swill'd in sweat My toyling soule both fumes and frets, As though she were inclin'd to a retreat.

2.

Corruption clogs my feet like filthy clay, And I am ready still to slip: Which makes me often stay, When I should trip Away. My feares

and faults, are such, As challenge all my teares So justly, that it were not much, If I in weeping should spend all my yeares.

3.

This makes me weary of the world below, And greedy of a place above, On which I may bestow, My choisest love, And so Obtaine That favour, which E••••ells all worldly gaine, And maketh the possessour rich, In happinesse of a transcendent straine.

4.

What? must I still be rooted here below, And riveted unto the ground, Wherein mine haste to grow Will be though sound, But slow? I know The Sunne exhales Grosse vapours from below, Which, scorning as it were the Vales, On mountaine-topping clouds themselves bestow.

5.

But my fault-frozen heart is slow to move, Makes poore proceedings at the best, As though it did not love, Nor long for rest Above. Mine eyes Can upward looke,

As though they did despise All things on earth, and could not brooke Their presence: but mine heart is slow to rise.

6.

Oh that it were once winged like the Dove, That in a moment mounts on high, Then should it soone remove, Where it may ly In love. And loe, This one desire Me thinks hath imp'd it so, That it already flies like fire, And ev'n my verses into wings doe grow.

Embleme 39.

[illustration]

CORDIS VNIO.

Dabo eis cor unum. Ezeeb. 11.19.

Ʋnanimes animae concordia viuite CORDA, vilum queis velle, et nolle dat vnus amor

Michel uan lochem excū

The union of the Heart.

EZEK. 11.19.

I will give them one heart.

Epigr. 39.

LIke minded minds, hearts al••ke heartily Affected will together live, and die: Many things meeie, and part: but loves great gable Tying two hearts makes them inseparabl

ODE. 39.

The Soule. 1.

All this is not enough: me thinks I grow More greedy by fruition: what I get Serves but to set An edge upon mine appetite, And all thy gifts doe but invite My pray'rs for more. Lord, if thou wilt not still encrease my store, Why did'st thou any thing at all bestow?

Christ. 2.

And is 'tthe fruit of having still to crave? Then let thine heart united be to mine, And mine to thine In a firme union, whereby We may no more be thou, and I, Or, I, and thou, But both the same: and then I will avow, Thou canst not want what thou do'st wish to have.

The Soule. 3.

True, Lord, for thou art All in All to me, But how to get my stubborne heart to twine, And close with thine, I doe not know, nor can I guesse How I should ever learne, unlesse Thou wilt direct The course that I must take to that effect. 'Tis thou, not I, must knit mine heart to thee.

Christ. 4.

'T is true, and so I will: but yet thou must Doe something tow'rds it too: First, thou must lay All sinne away, And separate from that, which would Our meeting intercept, and hold Us distant still: I am all goodnesse, and can close with ill No more, then richest diamonds with dust.

5.

Then thou must not count any earthly thing, How ever gay, and gloriously set forth, Of any worth, Compar'd with me, that am alone Th' eternall, high, and holy One: But place thy love Onely on me, and on the things above: Which true content, and endlesse comfort bring.

6.

Love is the loadstone of the heart, the glew, The cement, and the soder, which alone, Unites in one Things that before were not the same, But only like, imparts the name, And nature too

Of each to th' other: nothing can undoe The knot that's knit by love, if it be true.

7.

But if in deed, and truth thou lovest me, And not in word alone, then I shall find That thou dost mind The things I mind, and regulate All thine affections, love, and hate, Delight, desire, Feare, and the rest, by what I doe require, And I in thee my self shall alwayes see.

Embleme 40.

[illustration]

CORDIS QVIES.

Conuertere, anima mea, in requiem tuam. Psal. 114.7.

Mobile COR nulla po••is est requiescere sede. ••nus ei centrum nam Deus vna quies.

Michel uan lochem excū

The rest of the Heart.

PSAL. 116.7.

Returne unto thy rest, O my soule.

Epigr. 40.

MY buste, stirring heart, that seekes the best, Can find no place on earth wherein to rest: For God alone, the author of its blisse, Its only rest, its onely center is.

ODE. 40.

1.

Move me no more, mad world, it is in vaine, Experience tells me plaine I should deceived be, If ever I againe should trust in thee. My weary heart hath ransackt all Thy treasuries both great, and small, And thy large inventories beares in minde: Yet could it never finde One place wherein to rest, Though it hath often tried all the best.

2.

Thy profits brought me losse in stead of gaine, And all thy pleasures paine: Thine honours blurr'd my name With the deep staines of self-confounding shame. Thy wisdome made me turne starke fool, And all the learning, that thy school Afforded me, was not enough to make

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Me know my self, and take Care of my better part, Which should have perished for all thine heart.

3.

Not that there is not place of rest in thee For others: but for me There is, there can be, none: That God, that made mine heart, is he alone, That of himself Loth can, and will, Give rest unto my thoughts, and fill Them full of all content, and quietnesse, That so I may possesse My soule in patience Until he find it time to call me hence.

4.

On thee then, as a sure foundation, A tried corner-stone, Lord, I will strive to raise The tow'r of my salvation, and thy praise. In thee, as in my center, shall The lines of all my longings fall. To thee, as to mine anchor, surely ti'd My ship shall safely ride. On thee, as on my bed Of soft repose, I'll rest my weary head.

5.

Thou, thou alone, shalt be my whole desire, I'll nothing else require, But thee, or for thy sake. In thee I'll sleepe secure, and when I wake Thy glorious face shall satisfie The longing of my looking eye. I'll roule my self on thee, as on my rock,

And threatning dangers mock. Of thee, as of my treasure, I'll boast, and bragge, my comforts know no measurē.

6.

Lord, thou shalt be mine All, I will not know A profit here below, But what reflects on thee: Thou shalt be at all pleasure I will see In any thing the earth affords. Mine heart shall owne no words Of honour, out of which I cannot raise The matter of thy praise. Nay, I will not be mine, Unlesse thou wilt vouchsafe to have me thine.

Embleme 41.

[illustration]

BALNEVM CORDIS EX SVDORE SANGVINEO.

Multo labore sudatum est etnon exiuit de eâ nimia rubigo eius. Ezech. 24.12.

Baln••a sanguinei sponsi sudata cruore. COR aegrum hic libi quae dat Paradisus. adi.

Michel uan lochem excū

The bathing of the Heart.

JOEL 3.21.

I will cleanse their bloud, that I have not cleansed.

Epigr. 41.

THis hath thy Saviour swet with drops of bloud, Sick heart, of purpose for to doe thee good. They that have tri'd it can the vertue tell, Come then and use it, if thou wilt be well.

ODE. 41.

1.

All this thy God hath done for thee: And now mine heart It is high time that thou should'st be Acting thy part, And meditating on his blessed Passion, Till thou hast made it thine by imitation.

2.

That exercise will be the best And surest meanes, To keep thee evermore at rest, And free from paines. To suffer with thy Saviour is the way To make thy present comforts last for aye.

3.

Trace then the steps, wherein he trade, And first begin To sweat with him. The heavy load, Which for thy sinne

He underwent, squeez'd bloud out of his face, Which in great drops came trickling downe apace.

4.

Oh let not then that precious bloud Be spilt in vaine, But gather ev'ry drop. 'Tis good To purge the staine Of guilt, that hath defil'd, and overspred Thee from the sole of th'foot to th'crown of th'head.

5.

Poison possesseth every veine, The fountaine is Corrupt, and all the streames uncleane: All is amisse. Thy bloud's impure, yea thou thy self, mine heart, In all thine inward pow'rs polluted art.

6.

When thy first father first did ill, Mans doome was read, That in the sweat of's face he still Should eat his bread. What the first Adam in the garden caught, The second Adam in a garden taught.

7.

Taught by his owne example, how To sweat for sinne, Under that heavy weight to bow, And never linne Begging release, till with strong cries, and teares The soule be drain'd of all its faults, and feares.

8.

If sins imputed guilt opprest Th' Almighty so,

That his sad soule could find no rest Under that woe: But that the bitter agony he felt Made his pure bloud, if not to sweat, to melt.

9.

Then let that huge inherent masse Of sinne, that lies In heapes on thee, make thee surpasse In teares, and cries, Striving with all thy strength, untill thou sweat Such drops as his, though not as good, as great.

10.

And if he thinke it fit to lay Upon thy back, Or paines, or duties, as he may Untill it crack, Shrinke not away, but straine thine utmost force To beare them cheerfully without remorse.

Embleme 42.

[illustration]

VINCVLVM CORDIS EX FVNIBVS CHRISTI.

Traham eos in funiculis Adam et in uinculis charitatis. Oscae. 11.

Crimina te dure fateor, mea fune ligarunt. Dulcior astriugat COR ••bi funis, amor.

Michel van lochem excū

The binding of the Heart.

HOS. 11.4.

I drew them with cords of a man, with bands of love.

Epigr. 42.

My sinnes, I doe confesse, a cord were sound Heavy, and hard by thee, when thou wast bound, Great Lord of love, with them, but thou hast twin'd Gentle love-cords my tender heart to bind.

ODE. 42.

1.

What? could those hands, That made the world, be subject unto bands? Could there a cord be found, Wherewith omnipotence it self was bound? Wonder mine heart, and stand amaz'd to see The Lord of liberty Led captive for thy sake, and in thy stead. Although he did Nothing deserving death, or bands, yet he Was bound, and put to death, to set thee free.

2.

Thy sinnes had ti'd Those bands for thee, wherein thou should'st have di'd: And thou did'st daily knit Knots upon knots, whereby thou mad'st them sit Closer, and faster, to thy faulty self. So like a cursed elfe,

Helplesse, and hopelesse, friendlesse, and forlorne, The sinke of scorne, And kennell of contempt, thou should'st have laine Eternally enthrall'd to endlesse paine.

3.

Had not the Lord Of love and life been pleased to afford His helping hand of grace, And freely put himself into thy place. So were thy bands transferr'd, but not unti'd, Untill the time he di'd, And by his death vanquisht, and conqu'red all, That Adams fall Had made victorious. Sinne, Death, and Hell, Thy fatall foes, under his footstool fell.

4.

Yet he meant not That thou should'st use the liberty he got As it should like thee best, To wander as thou listest, or to rest In soft repose carelesse of his commands: He that hath loos'd those bands, Whereby thou wast enslaved to the foes, Binds thee with those, Where with he bound himself to doe thee good, The bands of love, love writ in lines of blood.

5.

His love to thee Made him to lay aside his Majesty, And cloathed in a vaile Of fraile, though faultlesle flesh, become thy baile. But love requireth love: and since thou art Loved by him, thy part It is to love him too: and love aflords

The strongest cords That can be: for it ties, not hands alone, But heads, and hearts, and soules, and all in one.

6.

Come then, mine heart, And freely follow the prevailing art Of thy Redeemers love. That strong magnetique tie hath pow'r to move The steeli'st stubbornesse. If thou but twine, And twist his love with thine, And by obedience labour to expresse Thy thankfulnesse, It will be hard to say on whether fide The bands are surest, which is fastest tide.

Embleme 43.

[illustration]

FVLCRVM CORDIS CHRISTI COLVMNA.

Confirmate CORDA uestra Jacob. 5. 8.

Non flores non poma, meum COR debile poscit Fulci•• haec tua mea christe, columna satis.

M. van sochem excū

The prop of the Heart.

PSAL. 102.7, 8.

His heart is fixed, trusting in the Lord. His heart is established, he shall not be affraid.

Epigr. 43.

My weak and feeble heart, a prop must use, But pleasant fruits, and flow'rs doth refuse: My Christ my pillar is on him rely, Repose, and rest my self, alone will I.

ODE. 43.

1.

Suppose it true, that whilst thy Saviours side Was furrowed with icourges he was ti'd Unto some pillar fast, Think not, mine heart, it was because he could Not stand alone, or that left loose he would Have shrunk away at last. Such weaknesse suits not with Omnipotence, Nor could mans malice match his patience.

2.

But, if so done, 'twas done to tutor thee, Whose frailty, and impatience he doth see Such, that thou hast nor strength, Nor will, as of thy self, to undergo The least degree of duty, or of woe, But would'st be sure at length To flinch, or faint, or not to stand at all, Or in the end more fearfully to fall.

3.

Thy very frame, and figure, broad above, Narrow beneath, apparently doth prove Thou canst not stand alone, Without a prop to boulster, and to stay thee. To trust to thine own strength would soone betray thee Alas, thou now art growne So weak, and feeble, wav'ring, and unstaid, Thou shrink'st at the least weight that's on thee laid.

4.

The easiest command ments thou declinest, And at the lightest punishments thou whinest: Thy restlesse motions are Innumerable, like the troubled sea Whose waves are toss'd, and tumbled ev'ry way. The Hound-pursued Hare Makes not so many doubles, as thou do'st, Till thy crosse courses in themselves are lost.

5.

Get thee some stay that may support thee then, And stablish thee, lest thou should'st start againe. But where may it be found? Will pleasant fruites, or flowers serve the turne? No, no, my tott'ring heart will overturne, And lay them on the ground. Dainties may serve to minister delight, But strength is onely from the Lord of might.

6.

Betake thee to thy Christ then, and repose Thy selfe in all extremities on those His everlasting aumes, Wherewith he girds the heavens, and upholds The pillars of the earth, and safely folds

His faithfull flocke from harmes. Cleave close to him by faith, and let the bands Of love tie thee in thy Redeemers hands.

7.

Come life, come death, eome devills, come what will, Yet fast'ned so thou shalt stand stedfast still: And all the pow'rs of hell Shall not prevaile to shake thee with their shock, So long as thou art founded on that rock: No duty shall thee quell, No danger shall disturbe thy quiet state, Nor soule-perplexing seares thy mind amate.

Embleme 44.

[illustration]

STIMVLVS CORDIS CHRISTI FLAGELLA.

Virga in dorso eius, qui indiget CORDE. piru. io 13

Cessat iners, cessant tua cum vigilare flagella: Coge•• tmor inuitum COR meliora sequi.

M. van Eochem excū

The scourging of the Heart.

PROV. 10.13.

A rod is for the backe of him that is void of understanding.

Epigr. 44.

WHen thou withhold'st thy scourges, dearest love, My sluggish heart is slack, and slow to move. Oh let it not stand still, but lash it rather, And drive it, though unwilling, to thy Father.

ODE. 44.

1.

What doe those scourges on that sacred flesh, Spotlesse and pure? Must he, that doth sin-weari'd soules refresh, Himself endure Such tearing tortures? Must those sides be gash'd? Those shoulders lash'd? Is this the trimming that the world bestowes Upon such robes of majestie as those?

2.

Is't not enough to die, unlesse by paine Thou antidate Thy death before hand, Lord? What do'st thou meane To aggravate The guilt of sinne? or to enhance the price Thy sacrifice Amounts to? Both are infinite I know, And can by no additions greater grow.

3.

Yet dare I not imagine that in vaine Thou did'st endure One stripe: though not thine owne thereby, my gaine Thou did'st procure, That when I shall be scourged for thy sake, Thy stripes may make Mine acceptable, that I may not grutch, When I remember thou hast borne as much.

4.

As much, and more, for me. Come then mine heart, And willingly Submit thy selfe to suffer: smile at smart And death defie. Feare not to feel that hand correcting thee, Which set thee free. Stripes as the tokens of his love he leaves, Who scourgeth ev'ry sonne whom he receives.

5.

There's foolishnesse bound up within thee fast: But yet the rod Of fatherly correction at the last, If blest by God, Will drive it farre away, and wisdome give, That thou maist live, Not to thy self, but him, that first was slaine, And died for thee, and then rose againe.

6.

Thou art not onely dull, and slow of pace But stubborne too, And refractory, ready to outface, Rather then doe, Thy duty: though thou know'st it must be so,

Thou wilt not go The way thou should'st, till some affliction First set thee right, then prick, and spurre thee on.

7.

Top-like thy figure, and condition is, Neither to stand, Nor stirre, thy self alone, whilst thou do'st misse An helping hand To set thee up, and store of stripes bestow To make thee goe. Begge then thy blessed Saviour to transferre His scourges unto thee, to make thee stirre.

Embleme 45.

[illustration]

SEPIMENTVM CORDIS CORONA SPINEA.

Sepiam uiam tuam spinis oseae. 2.0.

Ne careat tua spina rosis, COR concolor armet. Horto arcet s••yias, seps diadema feras.

Michel van lochem excū

The hedging of the Heart.

HOS. 2.6.

I will hedge up thy way with thornes.

Epigr. 45.

HE, that of thornes would gather roses, may In his own heart, if handled the right way. Hearts hedged with Christs Crowne of thornes, in stead Of thorny cares, will sweetest roses breed.

ODE 45.

1.

A crowne of thornes! I thought so: ten to one, A crowne without a thorne there's none: There's none on earth I meane, what shall I then Rejoyce to see him crown'd by men, By whom Kings rule, and reigne? Or shall I scorne, And hate, to see earths curse, a thorne, Prepost rously preferr'd to crowne those browes, From whence all blisse, and glory flowes? Or shall I both be clad, And also sad, To think it is a crowne, and yet so bad?

2.

There's cause enough of both, I must confesse: Yet, what's that unto me, unlesse I take a course his crowne of thornes may be Made mine, transferr'd from him to me? Crownes had they been of starres could adde no more Glory, where there was all before, And thornes might scratch him, could not make him worse,

Then he was made sinne, and a curse. Come then, mine heart, take downe Thy Saviours Crowne Of thornes, and see if thou canst make't thine owne.

3.

Remember first, thy Saviours head was crown'd By the same hands that did him wound: They meant it not to honour, but to scorne him, When in such sort they did bethorne him. Think earthly honours such, if they redound Not to his glory, th' are not sound. Never beleeve they minde to dignifie Thee, that thy Christ would crucifie. Think ev'ry crowne a thorne, Unlesse't adorne Thy Christ, as well as him, by whom 'tis worne.

4.

Consider then that, as the thorny crowne Circled thy Saviours head, thine owne Continuall care to please him, and provide For the advantage of his side, Must fence thine actions, and affections so, That they shall neither dare to goe Out of that compasse, nor vouchsafe accesse To what might make that care goe lesse. Let no such thing draw nigh, Which shall not spie Thornes ready plac'd to prick it till it die.

5.

Thus, compass'd with thy Saviours thorny Crowne, Thou mai'st securely sit thee downe, And hope that he, who made of water wine, Will turne each Thorne unto a Vine, Were thou moist gather grapes, and to delight thee

Roses: nor need the prickles fright thee. Thy Saviours sacred temples tooke away The curse, that in their sharpnesse lay. So thou mai'st crowned be, As well as he, And at the last light in his light shalt see.

Embleme 46.

[illustration]

COMPVNCTIO CORDIS CLAVO TIMORIS DEI.

confortauit eum clauis ut non moueretur Jsaiae. 41. 7.

Hoe mihi COR sancti clauo transfige timoris Pro me qui clauis in cruce fixus eras.

Michel van Lochem excū

The fastening of the Heart.

JER. 32.40.

I will put my feare in their hearts, that they shall not depart from me.

Epigr. 46.

THou, thath wast nailed to the Crosse for me, Lest I stould slip, and fall away from thee, Drive home thine holy feare into mine heart, And clench it so, that it may ne'er depart.

ODE. 46.

1.

What? do'st thou struggle to get loose againe? Hast thou so soone forgot the former paine, That thy licentious bondage unto sinne, And lust enlarged thraldome, put thee in? Hast thou a mind againe to rove, and ramble Rogue-like a vagrant through the world, and scramble For scraps, and crusts of earth bred base delights, And change thy dayes of joy for tedious nights Of sad repentant sorrow? What? wilt thou borrow That griefe to day, which thou must pay to morrow?

2.

No, self-deceiving heart, lest thou should'st cast Thy cords away, and burst the bands at last Of thy Redeemers tender love, I'll try What further fastnesse in his feare doth lie. The cords of love soaked in Iust may rot,

And bands of bounty are too oft forgot: But holy filiall feare, like to a naile Fast'ned in a sure place, will never faile. This driven home will take Fast hold, and make Thee that thou darest not thy God forsake.

3.

Remember how, besides thy Saviours bands, Wherewith they led him bound, his holy hands, And feet, were pierced, how they nail'd him fast Unto his bitter crosse, and how at last His precious side was goared with a speare. So hard sharp-pointed ir'n, and steel did teare His tender flesh, that from those wounds might flow The sov'raigne salve for sin-procured woe. Then that thou mai'st not faile Of that availe, Refuse not to be fast'ned with his naile.

4.

Love in an heart of flesh is apt to taint, Or be fly-blowne with folly: and its faint And feeble spirits, when it shewes most faire, Are often fed oft by the empty aire Of popular applause, unlesse the salt Of holy feare in time prevent the fault: But season'd so it will be kept for ever. He, that doth feare because he loves, will never Adventure to offend, But alwayes bend His best endeavours to content his friend.

5.

Though perfect love cast out all servile feare, Because such feare hath torment: yet thy dear Redeemer meant not so to set thee free,

That filiall feare, and thou should strangers be. Though, as a sonne, thou honour him thy father, Yet, as a master, thou maist feare him rather. Feare's the soules Centinell, and keepes the heart, Wherein love lodges so, that all the art, And industry, of those, That are its foes, Cannot betray it to its former woes.

Embleme 47.

[illustration]

MVSTVM CORDIS E TORCVLARI CRVCIS.

Vinum laetificet COR hominis. Psal. 103.15.

En cypri prematur botius, COR excipe. grata De torculari quae cruce vina flunnt.

M. van Lochem excū

The new wine of the Heart.

PSA •• 104.115.

Wine that maketh glad the heart of man.

Epigr. 47.

CHrist the true Vine, grape, cluster, on the Crosse Trod the Winepresse alone, unto the losse Of bloud, & tise. Draw, thankfull heart, and spare not: Here's wine enough for all, save those that care not.

ODE. 47.

1.

Leave not thy Saviour now, what ev'r thou do'st, Doubtfull distrustfull heart, Thy former paines, and labours, all are lost, If now thou shalt depart, And faithlesly fall off at last from him, Who to redeeme thee spar'd nor life nor limme.

2.

Shall he; that is thy Cluster, and thy Vine, Tread the winepresse alone, Whilst thou stand'st looking on? Shall both the wine, And worke be all his owne? See how he bends, crusht with the straitned Screw Of that fierce wrath, that to thy sinnes was due.

3.

Although thou canst not helpe to beare it, yet Thrust thy selfe under too, That thou mai'st feel some of the weight, and get Although not strength to doe, Yet will to suffer something as he doth,

That the same stresse at once may squeeze you both.

4.

Thy Saviour being press'd to death, there ran Out of his sacred wounds That wine, that maketh glad the heart of man, And all his foes confounds. Yea, the full-flowing fountain's open still For all grace-thirsting hearts to drinke their fill,

5.

And not to drinke alone, to satiate Their longing appetites, Or drowne those cumbrous cares, that would abate The edge of their delights, But, when they toyle, and foile themselves, with sinne, Both to refresh to purge, and cleanse them in.

6.

Thy Saviour hath begun this Cup to thee, And thou must not refuse't. Presse then thy sin-swoll'n sides, untill they be Empty, and fit to use't. Doe not delay to come, when he doth call, Nor feare to want, where there's enough for all.

7.

Thy bounteous Redeemer in his bloud Fills thee not wine alone, But likewise gives his flesh to be thy food, Which thou mai'st make thine owne, And feede on him, who hath himself revealed The bread of Life by God the Father sealed.

8.

Nay, he's not food alone, but physicke too, When ever thou art sick, And in thy weaknesse strength, that thou mai'st doe

Thy duty, and not stick At any thing, that he requires of thee, How hard soever it may seeme to be.

9.

Make all the haste then that thou canst to come, Before the day be past, And think not of returning to thy home, Whilst yet the light doth last. The longer, and the more thou draw'st this wine, Still thou shalt find it more, and more divine.

10.

Or if thy Saviour think it meet to throw Thee in the Presse againe, To suffer as he did: yet doe not grow Displeased at thy paine: A Summer season followes Winter weather, Suft'ring you shall be glorifi'd together.

REVEL. 22.17.

The Spirit, and the Bride say, Come, And let him that heareth say, Come. And let him that is a thirst, come. And whosoever will, let him take the water of life freely.