Classic Poem

Upon Good Friday

Meet we heer with cares and crosses
Tribulations beside
Know we not our Saviour dide
And that Sea the Merchant tosses
To his Proffits port's the guide
Nothing of gain
But's mixt with pain
Whilst heer below
We all are placed not to reap, but sowe.

Doe not Captives when released
Cherish Liberty the more
For th'condition went before
Ought not our Joyes t'be increased
On our blessed Masters skoar
Who sufferd thus
To ransome us
And set us free
Who were enchained to sins slavery.

Mark but a Prisner at the barr
When cast and condemnd to death
He spares noe cost, noe frends noe breath
But doth importune neer and farr
Til a reprive he gotten hath
Heer 'twas his will
All to fullfill
And to procure
Our Pardon did himself the paynes endure.

Let us noe more besotted then
Cark and beat our braines in vayn
Crouching under evry payne
With the meer worldly sort of men
As if Glory all were slain
When over Hell
The conquest fell
Sin and the grave
He vanquished, was lost awhile to save.