Salue deus rex iudæorum containing, 1. The passion of Christ, 2. Eues apologie in defence of women, 3. The teares of the daughters of Ierusalem, 4. The salutation and sorrow of the Virgine Marie : with diuers other things not vnfit to be read / written by Mistris Æmilia Lanyer ...

•…•…e terror of •…•… creatures •…•…hat in∣•…•…t when •…•…rist died.

¶ What creature on the earth did then remaine, On whom the horror of this shamefull deed Did not inflict some violent touch, or straine, To see the Lord of all the world to bleed? His dying breath did rend huge rockes in twaine, The heauens betooke them to their mourning weed: The Sunne grew darke, and scorn'd to giue them light, Who durst ecclipse a glory farre more bright.

The Moone and Starres did hide themselues for shame, The earth did rremble in her loyall feare, The Temple vaile did rent to spread his fame, The Monuments did open euery where; Dead Saints did rise forth of their graues, and came To diuers people that remained there Within that holy City; whose offence, Did put their Maker to this large expence.

Things reasonable, and reasonlesse possest The terrible impression of this fact; For his oppression made them all opprest, When with his blood he seal'd so faire an act, In restlesse miserie to procure our rest; His glorious deedes that dreadfull prison sackt: When Death, Hell, Diuells, vsing all their powre, Were ouercome in that most blessed houre.

Being dead, he killed Death, and did suruiue That prowd insulting Tyrant: in whose place He sends bright Immortalitie to reuiue Those whom his yron armes did long embrace; Who from their loathsome graues brings them aliue In glory to behold their Sauiours face: Who tooke the keys of all Deaths powre away, Opening to those that would his name obay.

O wonder, more than man can comprehend, Our Ioy and Griefe both at one instant fram'd, Compounded: Contrarieties contend Each to exceed, yet neither to be blam'd. Our Griefe to see our Sauiours wretched end, Our Ioy to know both Death and Hell he tam'd: That we may say, O Death, where is thy sting? Hell, yeeld thy victory to thy conq'ring King.

Can stony hearts refraine from shedding teares, To view the life and death of this sweet Saint? His austere course in yong and tender yeares, When great indurements could not make him faint: His wants, his paines, his torments, and his feares, All which he vndertooke without constraint, To shew that infinite Goodnesse must restore, What infinite Iustice looked for, and more.

Yet, had he beene but of a meane degree, His suffrings had beene small to what they were; Meane minds will shew of what meane mouldes they bee; Small griefes seeme great, yet Vse doth make them beare: But ah! tis hard to stirre a sturdy tree; Great dangers hardly puts great minds in feare: They will conceale their griefes which mightie grow In their stout hearts vntill they ouerflow.

If then an earthly Prince may ill endure The least of those afflictions which he bare, How could this all-commaunding King procure Such grieuous torments with his mind to square, Legions of Angells being at his Lure? He might haue liu'd in pleasure without care: None can conceiue the bitter paines he felt, When God and man must suffer without guilt.

Take all the Suffrings Thoughts can thinke vpon, In eu'ry man that this huge world hath bred; Let all those Paines and Suffrings meet in one, Yet are they not a Mite to that he did Endure for vs: Oh let vs thinke thereon, That God should haue his pretious blood so shed: His Greatnesse clothed in our fraile attire, And pay so deare a ransome for the hire.

Loe, here was glorie, miserie, life and death, An vnion of contraries did accord; Gladnesse and sadnesse here had one berth, This wonder wrought the Passion of our Lord, He suffring for all the sinnes of all th'earth, No satisfaction could the world afford: But this rich Iewell, which from God was sent, To call all those that would in time repent.

Which I present (deare Lady) to your view, Vpon the Crosse depriu'd of life or breath, To judge if euer Louer were so true, To yeeld himselfe vnto such shamefull death: Now blessed Ioseph doth both beg and sue, To haue his body who possest his faith, And thinkes, if he this small request obtaines, He wins more wealth than in the world remaines.

Thus honourable Ioseph is possest, Of what his heart and soule so much desired, And now he goes to giue that body rest, That all his life, with griefes and paines was tired; He finds a Tombe, a Tombe most rarely blest, In which was neuer creature yet interred; There this most pretious body he incloses, Imbalmd and deckt with Lillies and with Roses.

Loe here the Beautie of Heau'n and Earth is laid, The purest coulers vnderneath the Sunne, But in this place he cannot long be staid, Glory must end what horror hath begun; For he the furie of the Heauens obay'd, And now he must possesse what he hath wonne: The Maries doe with pretious balmes attend, But beeing come, they find it to no end.