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HEAVENLY LOVE 595
What hart can feele least touch of so sore Such mercy he by his most holy reede
launch,
Vnto vs taught, and to approue it trew,
Or thought can think the depth of so deare Ensampled it by his most righteous deede,
wound ?
Shewing vs mercie, miserable crew,
Whose bleeding sourse their streames yet neuer That we the like should to the wretches shew,
staunch,
And loue our brethren, thereby to approue,
But stil do flow, and freshly still redound, How much himselfe that loued vs, we loue
To heale the sores of smfull soules vnsound,
Then rouze thy selfe, 0 earth, out of thy soyle,
And dense the guilt of that infected cryme, ,
In which thou wallowest like to filthy swyne
Which was enrooted in all fleshly slyme
And doest thy mynd in durty pleasures moyle,
0 blessed well of loue, 0 floure of grace, Vnmindfull of that dearest Lord of thyne, 221
0 glorious Morning starre, 0 lampe of light, Lift vp to him thy heauie clouded eyne,
Most huely image of thy fathers face,
Eternall King of glorie, Lord of might,
171 That thou his souerame bountie mayst behold,
And read through loue his mercies manifold
Meeke lambe of God before all worlds behight,
How can we thee requite for all this good ?
Or what cm prize that thvmost precious blood ?
Begmne from first, where he encradled was
In simple cratch, wrapt in a wad of hay,
Betweene the toylefull Oxe and humble Asse,
Yet nought thou ask'st in lieu of all this loue, And in what rags, and in how base aray,
But loue of vs for guerdon of thy paine The glory of our hcauenly riches lay, 229
Ay me, what can vs lesse then that behoue ? When h.im the silly Shepheards came to see,
Had he required life of vs againe,
Whom greatest Princes sought on lowest knee.
Had it beene wrong to aske his owne with game?
He gaue vs life, he it restored lost, 181
Then life were least, that vs so litle cost
From thence reade on the stone of his life,
His humble carriage, his vnfaulty wayes,
His cancred foes, his fights, his toyle, his strife,
But he our life hath left vnto vs free, His pames, his pouertie, his sharpe assayes,
Free that was thrall, and blessed that was band, Through which he past his miserable dayes,
Ne ought demaunds, but thit we louing bee, Offending none, and doing good to all,
As he himselfe hath lou'd vs afore hind, Yet being mahst both of great and small
And bound therto with an eternall band,
Him first to loue, that vs so deircly bought,
And next, our brethren to his image wrought
And looke at last how of most wretched wights,
He taken was, betrayd, and false accused, 240
How with most scornefull taunts, and fell
Him first to loue, great right and reason is, despights
Who hrst to vs our life and being gaue , 191 He was reuyld, disgrast, and foule abused,
And after when we fared had amisse, How scourgd, how crowrd, how buffeted, how
Vs wretches from the second death did saue , brused,
And Last the food of lift, which now we haue, And lastly how twixt robbers crucifyde,
Euen himselfe in his deare sacrament, With bitter wounds through hands, through
To feede our hungry soules vnto vs lent feet and syde
Then next to loue our brethren, that were made Then let thy flinty hart that feeles no pame,
Of that selfe mould,and that selfe makershand, Empierced be with pittifull remorse,
T hat we, and to the same againe shall fade, And let thy bowels blecele in euery \ame,
Where they shall haue like heritage of land, At sight of his most sacred heauenly corse,
How euer here on higher steps we stand , 201 So tome and mangled with malicious forse,
Which also were with selfe same price re And let thy soule, whose sins his sorrows
deemed
wrought, 251
That we, how euer of vs light esteemed Melt into teares, and grone m gneued thought
And were they not, yet since that louing Lord With sencc whereof whilest so thy softened
Commaunded vs to loue them for his sake, spirit
Euen for his sake, and for his sacred word, Is inly toucht, and humbled with meeke zeale,
Which in his last bequest he to vs spake, Through meditation of his endlesse merit,
We should them loue, and with their needs Lift vp thy mind to th'author of thy weale,
partake,
And to his souerame mercie doe appeale,
Knowing that whatsoere to them we giue, Learne him to loue, that loued thee so deare,
We giue to him, by whom we all doe hue 210 And in thy brest his blessed image beare 259