Classic Poem

A Sinners acknowledgement of his Vilenesse and Mutabilitie.

Spare me (deare Lord), my daies as nothing be,
Consum'd in Sin , then which is nothing worse:
Yet Sinne is nothing: yet can well agree
With nothing but thy vengeance and thy curse .

Yet is it that, without which none can liue.
Sprong from our Proto-parents (rootes of strife )
Linckt to that Curse; that Life a crosse doth giue,
not crosse of Life , but crosse in Booke of Life .

Then happy that , that Life yet neuer had;
( Life that still subiect is to such a crosse)
And haplesse I that liue in life so bad,
Where life is found with lifes eternall losse.

Ah what am I, but slime, durt, dounge and dust,
Graue-monsters food. Wormes pittance (most impure)
Sprong from the earth , & vnto earth that must?
How, where , or when , I (sure) am most vnsure.

Abortiue Brat of damn'd Concupiscence ,
Hels heire, Heau'ns hate, eternall food for Fire ,
A Gulph of griefe , and Sincke of foule offence ,
Scum of vaine Pride , and froth of damn'd Desire:

Copesmate of Beasts , and to a Beast transform'd,
A Dungeon darke, a loathsome Lumpe of Earth ,
Fardle of filth , prodigious, foule, deform'd,
Dishonours vassaile, cursed childe of Wrath:

Patterne of Vice , and Mould of Vanitie ,
Made of the Molde that marres whatere it makes;
Errors misse-maze , where lost is Veritie ,
Or blinded so, that still wrong course it takes;

A Bramble Bryer , an vse-lesse barren Plant ,
A Dogge, a Hogge, a Viper most vnkinde,
A Rocke of wracke, dry well of eu'ry Want ,
A Weather-cocke , more wau'ring then the winde:

A thing of naught, a naughtie thing , that marres
What Goodnesse makes: a damn'd incarnate Deuill;
Contentions Source, Loues hate still causing farres
A banefull weede, and Roote of eu'ry euill:

What shall I say? A Map of miserie ,
Confusions Chaos. Frailties Spectacle,
The Worlds disease, Times vgliest Prodigie ,
Th' abuse of Men, and Shames Subtectacle.

Mortall, and to a Bubble sureable,
Whose flesh as Flowres, whose life as Houres consumes,
Of matter made, more then most mutable,
Yet (sure of certaine death) of life presumes;

Fraile life, which more it lasts, the sooner worne,
The longer drawne, the shorter is the date,
Hedg'd in with cares, as with an Hedge of Thorne;
Whose piercing prickes the minde doe vulnerate

If merry now, anone with woe I weepe;
If lustie now, forth-with am water-weake;
If now aliue, anone am buried deepe;
That houre that glads the heart, the heart doth breake:

One while I laugh, another while I lowre;
Now ioy in Griefe, and then in Ioy I griene;
Now wake in Care, then sleepe I straight secure,
Now I dispaire, then Hope doth me relieue:

Now sigh for sinne, then sinne, so sigh in vaine;
Now minde I Heau'n, then Earth excogitate;
Now fast and pray, then feast and prate againe;
Now labours end, then labours renouate;

Now am I loose, then lose I libertie;
Now sound, then sicke: now vp, then downe I fall;
Now am I safe, and then in leopardie;
Now ouercome I, then, put to the wall;

Now I discourse, then (mute againe) I muse;
Now seek the World, then search I for thy Waies;
Now am abus'd, and then I doe abuse;
Now hate, then loue; now praise, then straight dispraise;

Now This I long for, by and by for That;
This now delights me; then with that am cloid;
Now would haue this, and then I wot not what:
And thus with This, and That, am still annoid.

To count the count-lesse vaine varieties
Wherewith this mortall life surrounded is,
Or to recite our vaines in vanities,
I may (as of the Starres) the reck'ning misse.

All that this earthy Boowle on breast doth beare
Is subiect most to most vnconstant state:
One moment makes as if they neuer were
And eu'ry minute drawes them to their date

The heate, the cold, the hunger, thirst, and all
The miseries that life (fraile life) annoy,
(Which swarming hide this Globe terrestriall)
No Tongue can tell, thogh all their pow'rs employ.

Death seconds these, (if not the second Death)
Who with his fatall Faune sweepes all away,
At All (saith he) whose nostrils bound their breath;
Thus carelesly (at All ) with All doth play.

One dyes with Sicknesse, Thought another kils;
With Hunger this, with Thirst that man doth pine:
Some Water choakes, an Halter others spils:
Some Fire consumes, some Beasts deuoure in fine.

This man he murders with the ruthlesse Sword;
That man with Poyson he doth suffocate:
With Bullet this; that with a bitter Word
He ends; and others end with worser Fate.

No Flesh (though fram'd in height of Natures skill.
With composition more then halfe diuine)
But it is subiect made to death, vntill
Th' Immortall doe that mortall flesh refine.

Thus all he ends; yet none their ends fore-know,
A secret t'is, to Death himselfe vnknowne:
Whom he must strike, thy finger (Lord) must show
Nor dares he shoot till thou the Mark hast showne.

To some he is thy mercies Minister;
To other some the Engine of thy wrath:
This sadnesse to my Soule doth minister,
For, bleeding Conscience many faintings hath:

But wash the same with thy sweet mercles dewe,
And it annoint with vnction spirituall,
Then health, and rest, and peace shall straight ensue,
Which to my Conscience will be cordiall;

I haue discourst to thine all-hearing Eares
My dismall plight, in dolefull Elegie,
With Tragick accents, accents causing teares,
(Sad teares) attending matchlesse misery:

Thy pitties Eare therefore, bowe downe, O Lord,
To these most pensiue, and most iust complaints:
Let mercies Eyes, with pitties Eares accord,
To chear the conscience that with bleeding faints:

In hope whereof my soule shall rest in peace,
Till thou vouchsafe to send her full release.