Divine glimpses of a maiden muse being various meditations and epigrams on several subjects : with a probable cure of our present epidemical malady if the means be not too long neglected / by Chr. Clobery ...

Pride: the Seed of Sin.

GReat fall of Men and Angels; Heavens hate; Wert thou as good as thou art seeming great, Thou would'st the fairest Vertue be of many: But art the most deformed Vice of any. Scorn of all good; a bastard mungrel Evil, Begot betwixt relapsing Man and Devil; Though both (quâ tales) thy own creatures be; Begetters of, and yet begot by thee: A monstrous spawn of Incest sp'ritual, That Viper-like, hadst life from parents fall: And yet thou vaunt'st, boasting thy birth and blood, When no progenitor of thine was good: Surpassest in thy self-conceit (by odds) Those humbler souls descended from the gods, Whose most heroick race, and princely birth, Farther transcendeth thine, then heaven doth earth. Bold Queen of Vices, thou ledst on the Van Of that Black Regiment that foiled Man Under Gods elbow, by the Prince of Hell, Lucifer thy Lieutenant Colonel, Under the subtile Serpents shape disguis'd, Thereby presuming to make man despis'd In his Creators eyes for evermore; VVhose Mercie sent his Son to clear that score; VVho brake the Serpents head: thy daring skill Did legions of sacred Angels fill VVith God-unthroning plots; whereby they fell To all eternity, cast down to Hell; The glory of thy conquests: yet thy gain Appears but small; for they subdu'd again Thee their subduer; and have forc't thee since To act in service of their direful Prince;

Who by Self-merit, and Presumption, (Thy fatal Daughters) hath more souls drawn on In everlasting-fire-chains to be ti'd, Then by all other sins and s•…•…res beside. Mother of Antichrist; thou first set'st on The founding of Mysterious Babylon: The Beast is but thy Creature, and the Whore Thy eldest unmach't Daughter: I therefore A Mate will motion to her, (though a mad one, Yet not unfit) it is the great Abaddon; Who shortly will to her a Kingdom give, Wherein (though dying) she shall ever live: For here her time is short, as I compute, And will be found so, without all dispute: Therefore translate her hence unto the place Before all worlds prepared for her was; It is her portion; Oh detain it not; Do her no wrong, but let her have her lot: And then the Lord of Life shall rule again, And under him his humble Saints shall reign: Amen, Lord Jesus, haste it on: for lo, The whole Creation groans to have it so; The Angels, Saints and Martyrs cry aloud, To have thy vengeance poured on the proud: For of all sins that bar poor man from bliss, To Them and Thee Pride the most hateful is: None doth in Man thy Image more deface; Nor any makes us in thy sight so base. VVhat Necromantick Philter us hath charm'd, And both of sense, and reason so disarm'd, That we should glory in our greatest shame? Our Fig-leaf cloathes, do but our fall proclaim: VVas that worth boasting of? Then thy gains scan, Proud, prinking, pranking, prating parret man: And brag on, spare not, kneaded lump of clay; Thy seal'd damnation 'twill at last display;

Handful of dust coagulate, short span Of putri'd earth; such art thou proudest man: Thou vaunt'st of thy descent, and may'st do't well; Never was greater then from heav'n to hell: Thy pedigree I'll shew (I dare aver) To be Angelick, from great Lucifer. Thy parts, and gifts, of body, and of soul Are fair, and comely; but pride makes them foul. Thou aimst at great atchievments; buildst high hopes; Sand-founded structures; On whose towring tops Are batt'ries rais'd against the walls of Heav'n; But all thy Cannon-shot (of force bereav'n) Retort from those unpierced edifices Upon thy self, and so thy fond devices Are self-crush't: And what self not ruinates, Death briefly seizeth and annihilates. Proud fool; go, rake great Alexander's dust; The ashes of those Hero's, whose meer lust Their pow'r transform'd to law; whose very word Made Empires tremble; whose devasting sword Made seas of blood; and robb'd the lands of breath: Divorcing souls from bodies by grim death; And see how calm they are, how voyd of pride, As if all Histories had them bely'd. Draw neerer home, and open late-made tombs Of thy progenitors, within whose wombs Their nigh-corrupted flesh sends forth a stink Which thou abhorr'st to smell; yea loath'st to think How noysom 'tis; And tell, O tell me then If there be reason for such pride in men: Dost thou their flesh-devested bones there see? Such Skeleton be sure thy self shall be; If not by providence to worse ordain'd: For worse corruption many have sustain'd: And (truth to say) most proper 'twere for thee, Should thy dead corpse by fowls devoured be;

Who living, in self-thoughts didst soar on high, And so (when dead) on others wings shalt fly. Pride is Lust's Bawd; Broker to Avarice; Mother of Envy, and each hateful Vice; Excesses Vintner, Brewer, Cook, and Baker; The Souldiers and the Lawyers Cavil-Maker; Ambitious Engineer, Wars shoo-horn: so Were't not for Pride, souldiers might bare-foot go; VVho now march booted, to advance the shew Of her vain-glorious, self-conceited Crew; Shoo-makers, Haberdashers, Jewellers, VVith Lapidaries, Goldsmiths, Pewterers, Cutlers, and Armourers, all sorts of Drapers, Fencers, and Fidlers, Dancers cutting capers; Those that make Buttons, Bandstrings, Tires, and Borders▪ Teeth, Eyes, and Periwigs, and mend disorders In ugly Faces; with a countless number Of other Trades, who us with changes cumber: Chameleon Dyers, who by Art do vary Their colours to the same that others carry, Attend her train; all plague-sick of the Fashion, Led on by Taylors (pest of English Nation) VVhose Proteus-like changing quite out-braves In mutability, the Moon and VVaves: VVho Frenchifie our men and women so, That who are English we can hardly know; VVho a new Fashion do affect so well, They'l have it, though they knew it came from Hell▪ Did they the Dev'l in Uncouth Habit spie, They'ld sue for his Old Suit, to cut New by. These are (which I think cannot be deny'd) Gentlemen-Ushers to the Devil and Pride: A Letany (to beg deliverance From these) were very fit, Here and in France: VVhich two fond Nations they have stultifi'd, This last-past Age, more then the world beside;

Pride would fear banishment, if they should fall: VVho are supporters of her, Devil and all: I think few wise men deem this censure hard; If Laws were mended, Taylours would be marr'd, And women made more wise, and poor men too, VVho now betwixt them both have much to do: But sure ere long I hope the time to see, VVhen English Laws shall so amended be; That pride (the subject now of admiration) Shall be scorn's subject throughout all the Nation: VVhen we shall glory not in gawdy cloaths, New-fangled fashions, or in horrid oaths, Or spotted faces with like souls within, Or hair like those that in a Mill have been, Or self-conceited gestures, speech or looks, The Devils new devised baits and hooks, To catch poor souls: But shall with joynt accord Glo••y in this, that we do know the Lord, And that he is our God, and will us own, He knowing us, and being of us known; VVho will suppress the proud, exalt the meek; And then his people shall to Sion seek, VVith joy and peace. Oh haste the time, dear Lord: Let thy Church say Amen, with one accord.