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Which thy must cleare, as which concernes their | From this sad sentence, backe to the Stygian state,

crime,

So glad to gaine some space from posting time.

The wicked thus (it scemes) could wish to stay,
The full performance of Christ's great decree,
As loth to leave this (though most fearefull) day,
The last of light that they shall ever see;
The eyes' deare objects vanish must away;
No prospect more for them can pleasant be:
No wonder though they seeke to shift a space,
Their dreadfull entry to that driry place.

But such delayes can yeeld their soules no ease,
Who rack'd by conscience, inwardly doe smart;
Save all to suffer, not what to appease,

No other thought can harbour in their heart;
That glorious face which doth the godly please,
To them strange feares with horrour doth impart:
So that their present paine hath so much force,
They scarce imagine any can be worse.

Those who were swift to sinne, to goodnesse slow,
And onely striv'd in folly to exceed,

O! when they finde that which they justly owe,
The endlesse paines which ended joyes doe breed!
They, as they alwaies liv'd like beasts below,
Would gladly now that they were beasts indeed:
To scape the Hell whose horrours then are seene,
Who wish their being never to have beene.

When looking backe how traines of treach❜rous
houres

(As mines) at unawares had blowne up all,
And blasted oft (ere ripe) fraile pleasure's flowres,
Whose time hath beene so short, whose joy so small;
They wonder now how they could spend their
pow'rs,

In gayning toyes to such a tyrant thrall,
Which hath them made that happinesse to misse,
Where still eternity abounds in blisse.

All longing mindes for what they much require,
The time appointed, when they doe attend,
Doe wish the space betweene should straight expire,
And so the light to have some other end;
By giving way to man's infirme desire,

His course contract'd few moments thus would
spend:

And thus to gaine some flying fortunes soone,
His life by what he wish'd would be undone.

The loving youth whose brest with thoughts doth
burne,

Would lose whole yeares to have one night's delight;
The merchant waiting for his shippe's returne,
Not onely dayes, but winds as slow doth cite;
The greedy usurer, so to serve his turne,

What horrid clamour sounds the last retreat.

If for affaires which mutuall good impart,
A little way till some few houres be runne,
Kinde wives and husbands doe but chance to part,
A friend from fr end, a mother from her sonne,
So sensibly with tender thoughts all smart,
That love is glad to have so ne moments wonne:
"Prized by privations, beings are held deare,
And presence pretious, absence makes appeare.

O blacke divorce, even worse then thoughts can
faine!

Griefe past expressing, losse above all bounds,
They now must part who never meet againe,
And straight to goe where horrour most abounds,
From sight of pleasure ravish'd unto paine,
No wonder though they howle forth doiorous sounds:
Who must this cheereful light with darkenesse
[strange.
Saints' joyes first seene, to make their state more

change,

"Twixt parents, brethren, sisters, kindred, friends,
And all those bands which mortals held most deare;
The naturall love (worne out of date) quite ends,
Eternally whil'st separated here;

That strict regard which tender passion bends,
None of the godly now can make draw neere
To any one of those whom damn'd they see,
Though ty'd by nature in the first degree.

The bed's deare partners here, each fortune's mate,
Who once (heart's joy) sunke in the bosome slept;
Some dandled children, doted on of late,
Whom with such care too tender parents kept;
Companions earst who swayd the minde's conceit,
All now are left, and they no teare have wept:
Who praise God's judgement which this parting
wrought:

His love hath swallow'd up each other thought.

But by this meanes the reprobate are mov'd,
To apprehend their misery the more,
Whil'st fo cd to leave them whom so much they
lov d,

Who having seen their happinesse before,
And having heard their losse by them approv'd,
Who once had wish'd them well, but then abhor:
This grieves their soule, till they for anguish groane,
And though to Hell, are earnest to be gone.

Whil'st stormy conscience holds invective bookes,
That th' inward sight can onely reade of ire,
O! how doe heavy eyes with lingring lookes,
From world's last prospects languishing retire?
A windy cloud of sighes, each mouth forth smokes,
As burning, even ere entring in the fire:

(Save termes for payment) all dayes else would They are not blinde, yet better so to be,

quite:

Since these for pleasure lavish are of life,
What would they doe, whose miseries are rife?

But whil'st too late, the wicked count their dayes,
Which (ere they wakened) vanish like a dreame,
(So to remove the meanes of all delayes)
Their sentence given, an angell doth proclaime,
The which with feare each count'nance quite dis-
mayes,

And they in darkenesse haste to hide their shame:

Since Heaven, nor Earth, they never more shall see.

The raging fiends all girt with foaming snakes,
Doe haste them downe together with their charge,
Whereas no porter any hindrance makes,
They passe Hell's deeps, attending on no barge;
This thronging troup at dreadfull earth-quakes
quakes,

Whil'st gaping gulphes doe make an entry large:
All look ng backe as loth to leave the light,
Are at an instant swallow'd out of sight.

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It may be plac't amidst the fierie spheare,
Whence joyn'd with lightning dreadfull thunders flie,
Whil'st frowning Heavens by day night's colours
reare;

Till scarce some flashes can point out the skie;
So that as Hell inflicting harme and feare,
By thunder-bolts, and haile, troups tortur'd lye:
Thus in effect, affinity they hold
By light, and darknesse, horrour, heat, and cold.

That cloudy clymate (hatching stormes when faire)
May still foule spirits where first they fell restraine,
And wretched soules to have with them their share,
Of substance light, (though stayn'd) may mount
againe ;

Since Sathan hath beene held lord of the ayre,
He last may smart where he so long doth raigne:
And though suppos'd a parable to be,
Why might not Abraham there the glutton see?

If God thus hang that monstrous masse of night,
In which to pine the tortur'd bands are throwne,
The hoasts of Heaven importing virtuall light,
May pierce Hell's clouds, till all their guests be
knowne,

With mutuall prospects, interchanging sight,
By other's states that both may judge their owne:
"What is oppos'd, compar'd, brings truth to light:
When set with shadowes,stars doe shine more bright."

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The liquid kingdome all becoming dry,
Farre distant shores (as if cimented) meet,
The waves all dead entom'd in crystall lye,
Not having power to drowne, no, not to weet,
Whil'st barren beauty doth delude the eye,
And slippery firmenesse doth betray the feet,
Which both on flouds and solid grounds they set,
And yet can neither earth nor water get.

Amidst that large inhabitable zone,
Where raging winter doth admit no bounds,
Perchance (for terrour) the Tartarian throne,
With strengthlesse beames the flying Sunne sur-
And (as if thousands multipli'd a grone) [rounds,
There sulph'rous Vulcan's roare continuall sounds:
Whil'st ghosts do never sleep, yet alwaies dreame,
Rack'd by remorse with griefe, past sense of shame.

But that great God on whom this all depends,
And (as he pleaseth) quickly fades or springs,
Even with a thought can compasse all his ends,
Not daigning to take helpe of temporall things,
And yet to worke what ever he intends,
Each creature straight a contribution brings:
He in new moulds can cast the world againe,
Make beauty ugly, what gave joy, give paine.

Earst Adam's Eden, pleasure's speciall ground,
World's quint-essence, the garden of the Lord,
The pretious stone of this enamel'd round,
Which God did guard as with his treasures stor❜d,
It now turn'd common earth (by flouds since drown'd)
Of what it was no token doth afford:
That dainty vale which curious Lot did chuse,
Did soone grow loathsome, all the world's refuse.

Those parts below which most delight the eye,
As pleasant, fertile, crown'd with flowres, or streames,
Where nature doth with many colours dye
Her curious robes, all bright with glistring beames,
Some there at last may greater torments try,
Then Sathan can devise, or mankinde dreames:
And it would stand with justice in these times
That all should suffer where they wrought their
crimes.

But th’Earth oreburden'd, must to sinne give place,
If so commanded by the world's great ludge,
Loe, how we all who fondly love her face,

Must at the last within her bosome lodge! [race,
But them she swallow'd quicke, though Abraham's
Who tempting God against his will did grudge:
All sinnes engross'd in one, what monstrous weight
May soone sinke thousands to the centre straight!

Who knowes but th' Earth, which still men wastes or feeds,

Hath vast concavities where darknesse blinds,
And that from it the secret cause proceeds
Of dreadfull earth-quakes, and of restlesse winds,
Which, schismes in schooles, no satisfaction breeds,
The deepe's deepe mystery none clearly finds:
Whilst bent to study who doth thousands teach,
Seas compast him who could their course not reach.

The fertile Earth for that infernall seate
May furnish stuffe to feede the flames apace,
For, as without, Sunne's active beames do beat,
Till plentie's horne doth garnish every place;
So it would seeme, within, some vigorous heate
Of metalls strong doth breed the rockie race:

Th'Earth must have fire, of which, to serve our turne, Both superficiall parts and entrails burne.

Vaine Pagans did in every fancy fixe,
That stygian darkenesse diverse floods did bound,
And all their gods did sweare by dreadfull Styx,
That straight their oath in Lethe might be drown'd;
These waters with so many things did mixe,
Ere they could reach the centre of the ground,
That stain'd and poison'd whilst estrang'd from th'
aier,

They filthy were (no doubt) when once come there.

Since (by conjectures with much travell sought)
This fearefull place none can precisely know,
Then by what meanes from darknesse can be brought,
Those mysteries which some dare seeke to show?
The roome indeed may justly large be thought,
Where all the wicked should be lodg'd below:
Though to their cliants devils do much reveale,
Yet they for frighting them Hell's state conceale.

They (as great pleasures) painting out their paines,
By foolish fables please vaine vulgars much,
With gorgeous gardens, and elysian plaines,
Which (like themselves) cannot abide the touch;
Then will they seeme (this reputation gaines)
Fawnes, Silvans, Satyres, Faries, Nymphes, and such:
That fooles may hope to be (whilst spoil'd of sense)
Gods, demi-gods, and heroes, when gone hence.

What then confusion doth more mischiefe bring,
As oft hath beene made knowne in every age?
And it in Hell would seeme a needefull thing,
To torture them who there beare Satan's badge,
From which in darknesse, grosse effects must spring,
Where desp❜rat troupes (past hope of helpe) doe rage;
Yet even in it some order shall be found,
Though Chaos darkning, Babel to confound.

The world may thinke, amidst that damned crue,
Though (as elsewhere) distinguish'd in degree,
Each one doth reape that which to him is due ;
When law below a party doth pursue,
Their paines may differ, yet their griefe agree;

As crimes require, the iudges do decree:
How huge be these which Hell's blacke hostes attend?
Since God on Earth so many plagues doth send,

This crystall spheare, the lanterne of the sight,
A generall spie that every thing doth marke,
I doubt, if drawing, or dispersing light,
Of all man's body the most heavenly sparke,
The life of beauty, nature's glories height,
Which straight (when clos'd) makes all the world
seme dark,

It of chiefe pleasures doth the centre prove,
Both from the Earth below, and Heaven aboue.

Those sunnes of sences, mirrours of the minde,
The windows of the heart till light doth faile,
How bodies may be glorifi'd we find,
Since their perfection doth so much prevaile;
These dainty lights which have so sweetely shin'd,
Though cleere like diamonds, like crystall fraile,
While as abus'd by them that were unjust,
Did turne to starres of pride and flames of lust.

By them the wretch to avarice was swai'd,
Externall objects tempting the desire;
By them the hear to envy was betrai'd,
And made to hate what it could not acquire;
Their sight urg'd vengeance whilst it did upbraid
Such brests as boil'd with a vindictive ire,
By them (as dores) much mischiefe entred in,
The baits, the bauds, the guides, the gates of sinne.

These eyes that did so oft to vice invite,
(Whil'st still attracting, or directing wrong)
Now barr'd from all which did them once delight,
Where fearefull monsters for confusion throng;
Them from some paine no moment can acquite,
For objects strange infortunately strong:
Prodigious sights since still they must indure,
Like owies (night's driry birds) in caves obscure.

In place of beauty (which did earst bewitch)
The foaming fiends came charg'd with crawling
snakes;

For stately roomes a dungeon (dropping pitch)
Doth contribute to the Tartarian lakes;
And for companions (groaning in a ditch)
A number burns, and yet for cold still quakes.
Eyes thus have no reliefe, not when they weep,
But (though in darknesse) they still see, not sleep.

This living lab'rinth entertaining sounds,
By severall turnes, till made for hearing fit,
(Lest otherwise, if rude, words might give wounds)
Which (thus prepar'd) they by degrees admit;
These bring the stuffe on which the judgement
As ready porters that support the wit; [grounds,
And oft with pleasure smooth afflicting care,
Whil'st dainty voices quintessence the aire.

These oft (like strumpets dissolutely strong)
Are prostituted, suffr ng what is foule;
Then mediating 'twixt a tempting tongue
And fraile desires, all goodnesse oft controul:
They first corrupted do seduce to wrong,
And poure (like pleasure) poyson in the soule:
By them assaulting sinne doth breach the heart,
As of the body still the weakest part.

This is the myne which doth blow up the minde,
Gainst sense, or reason's charge, a guardlesse way,
To lust, to fraud, or faults of any kinde,
Which all the strength by treaties doth betray;
As Sathan soone in Paradise did finde,
In Evah's care who first in ambush lay;
This patent entry can hold nothing out, [doubt.
But braves brave minds with grounds for feare or

This spirituall taster, understanding's eye, [moanes,
(Growne needlesse now amongst these hopelesse
Since all well known, none then can further try)
In place of musicke that did charme it once,
Heares teeth to gnash, and howling creatures cry,
Redoubling sobs, and melancholy groanes:
For dreadfull sounds who can imagine more?
There fiends and men (still rack'd) together roare.

That dainty sense which comfort doth the braines,
And all the vitail sprits more pregnant make,
Which (when the aire a grosse corruption staines)
Doth by sweet odours drive the danger backe,
It with the Lord so highly pris'd remaines,
That he himselfe in it doth pleasure take:

And he was said a sacrifice to smell,
In which sweet incense chiefly did excell.

Those (though extorting nature's usuall store)
That were perfum'd with artificiall things,
In place of what affected was before,
This sinke of sinne which theirs so oft made more,
A filthy stench perpetually there stings;
The dregs of all the world together brings:
Whose scent, though loathsome now, endure they
must,

Who (weakning courage thus) gave strength to lust.

Those to the taste who did their judgement give,
And (more then nature) fancy striv'd to feed,
What creatures daily dy'd that they might live,
Who would for pompe or gluttony exceed,
And curious were all courses to contrive,
While as the poore did starve (they thus at feasts)
How sawces strange an appetite might breed:
And could not get what they did give to beasts?

Though food for maint'nance none shall need below,
Yet gluttons' mindes by longing are turmoil'd;
And many meats may mustred be in show,
Which straight (when neare to touch) devils may
All fry'd in flames, or in Cocytus boil'd,
orethrow;

Or they may be by monstrous harpies spoil'd;
Or (as from Tantalus the apple slips)
Such tempting objects may delude their lips.

These drunkards that have drown'd their wits in
wine,

(Till, quite benumn'd, they long ere dying dye)
Whil'st tortur'd now continually to pine,
As in a feaver (loe) they burning lye:

If roaring flames a puddle could designe,
They for a drop to quench their thirst would cry:
That this to mark it might our judgement leade,
The like entreaty one to Abraham made.

These dainty fingers entertain'd by pride,
Whose sense (though grosse) was pleas'd in sundry
sorts,

Which could no touch save what was soft abide,
Oft us'd for avarice, or wanton sports,
Those now in vaine would strive themselves to hide,
Which (whil'st stretch'd forth as cruell paine trans-

ports)

Where fearfull darknesse doth no light admit,
May unawares some fiend or serpent hit.
Some who below had domineer'd of late,
Whil'st (pleasures purchas'd at too high a rate)
In wealth abounding, by abundance cloy'd,
As want did others, surfeits them annoy'd;
They (wanting stomacke) did not feed but eate,
Till faint, and dull, what had, they not enjoy'd;
Those naked now in misery remaine,
And nothing rests, save never resting paine.
The lazie man whose memory time foils,
As wanting sinews, who could scarcely move,
Whom faintnesse, and not pride, did keep from toils,
Save abject ease who nothing else did love;
Now when his foot at every step still broils,
If but to change, of force must restlesse prove:
And lest he languish with too dull a paine,
By bodkins hot tormented may remaine.

These hauty mindes, whose swelling thoughts were | And of all things should greatest feare impart,
That still in state they gloried to be seene; [such,
So richly cloath'd, that it had griev'd them much,
If on their garments any spot had beene;
So dainty then that they disdain'd to touch,
Farre lesse to lye, or sit, on parts uncleane:
And whil'st presuming on their wealth or race,
Were alwayes striving how to take their place.

Those on themselves who did so fondly dote,
And their vile carkasse curious were to grace,
Though (like the flowres which frailty do denote)
But must'ring beauty for a little space;
They never care how much the minde they blot,
So they of nature (during life's short race)
May help defects by art's defective aid,
The soule to sinne by vanity betrai'd.

They nature's need could not by sleep supply,
Save in faire roomes which pleasure did procure;
Each vulgar object straight did wound their eye,
Whose tender sight no grosse thing could endure;
They well attended softly sought to lye,
Though so more sumptuous, and the lesse secure:
Not thinking how when dead they straight should
have,

Wormes for companions, and for bed a grave.

Loe, now retir'd amid'st Tartarian caves,
With driry shadows in eternall night,
They lodge more low then some that were their slaves,
As sinking farre, since falling from a height;
And every fiend them (as their equall) braves,
With mocks remembring of their wonted might:

They, they through flames with scourging whips

them drive,

The which to flie in boiling deeps they dive.
Smooth beautie's groundswhich did so much delight,
From pleasant plains with furrows gathered in,
By fire, or filth, are now disfigur'd quite,
Till they become as ugly as their sinne;
And (persecuted with continuall spite)
Hot pitch and brimstone drop upon their skinne:
But such a losse as this, paine quickly bounds,
The feeling, not the fancy, them confounds.

The Heaven's great Judge, in all things who is just,
Each paine imposed severally designes;
The proud (trod down) lye wallowing in the dust;
The glutton starves; by thirst the drunkard pines;
The lecherous burne, but not as earst with lust;
The wretch in vaine to covet still inclines;
Who did God's day to violate contest,
No iubile or sabbath yeelds them rest.

O how each soule most highly doth abhorre
The fault which them to this confusion sends!
Which (though they would) they now can use no
Yet, onely one, even at this time not ends; [more,
Those who were given to blasphemy before,
They still curse God, their parents, and their friends;
This sinne which malice, and not weaknesse breeds,
In height, in place, and time, all else exceeds.

That vice in Hell the reprobate may use,
Which from the minde all kinde of goodnesse blots,
Each other fault some colour may excuse,
Whilst baited fancy, on some pleasure dotes;
But blasphemy the furies do infuse,

In mindes perverse, which as a badge it notes,

Since it bewrayes the vilenesse of the heart.
They faine that one continually doth feele
His smarting entrails by a vulture torne;
A stone (still toss'd) another faint makes reele,
And braving food a famish'd mouth doth scorne;
Ambition's type is rack'd upon a wheele,
Still barr'd from rest, since backe or forward borne;
In vaine these sisters tosse the Stygian deep,
Who must bestow on that which cannot keep.
But yet these torments which the world did faine,
In sinners' minds a just remorse to breed,
From working mischiefe that they might refraine,
Whilst they strive how for horrour to exceed:
As onely forg'd, is but a painted paine,

If match'd with these that must be felt indeed:
Which so extremely breed the soul's distresse,
That even the suffrer can it not expresse.

What height of words were able to dilate
The severall torments that are used below?
Each sense must suffer what it most doth hate,
The Stygian forge whil'st forming furies blow;
Short pleasures purchas'd at a hideous rate,
They still (yet not discharg'd) pay what they owe:
"All sorts of sinnes since none can well recount,
No doubt Hell's paines in number must surmount.

These mysteries, which darknesse doth enfold,
Or who can know what ground is fit to hold,
What mortall colours can expresse them right?
Where contraries do with confusion fright?
Some laid on flames not see, yet quake for cold;
To comfort it no quality retaines,
Thus fire doth burne, but cannot cleare with light:

But multiplies in all that may give paines.

A possibility how this may prove;
Though seeming strange, imagination frames
No busie breath then irritating flames, [move:
Doth make them waste the meanes by which they
Whil'st want of aire fire's lightning fury tames,
That it no way can vent it selfe above:
Though all the brightnesse be entomb'd in smoak,
It lacks but beauty, may both burne and choak.
Some member then perchance extremely smarts,
A captive compass'd with encroaching fire, [hearts,
(What here doth fright, may then confound all
Chiefe element for executing ire:)

And yet cold snakes (enfolding other parts)
May make the bloud all languishing retire:
What stormie clymate can afford this seat,
Where both they freeze for cold, and rage for heat.

The secret nature of this fire to finde,
Of some who curious were the thoughts did crosse ;
If it were spirituall, how to be confinde
In Hell for torture of terrestriall drosse:
Then if materiall, and to waste inclin'd,
Could soules be reach'd by such a substance grosse?
For all impressions working paine or feare,
Must have an object fit their blows to beare.
The fiends from fire (some thinke) must needs scape
free,

Whose subtle substance none can touch with hands,
Yet, they (as lords) distinguish'd in degree,
Can (tossing th' aire) disturbe both seas and lands;
They bodies have the which may taken be,
And have a being capable of bands:

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