Contents -BIBLIOGRAPHIC RECORD

Edward Farr, ed. Select Poetry of the Reign of Queen Elizabeth. 1845.

The High Way to Mount Caluarie

LIII. Samuel Rowlands

REPAIRE to Pilat’s hall,

Which place when thou hast found,

There shalt thou see a pillar stand,

To which thy Lord was bound.

’Tis easie to be knowne

To anie Christian eye;

The bloudie whips doe point it out

From all that stand thereby.

By it there lies a robe

Of purple, and a reed,

Which Pilat’s seruants vs’d t’ abuse,

In sinne’s deriding deed:

When they pronounced “All haile!

God saue thee!” with a breath,

And by the same cride presently,

“Let Christ be done to death.”

His person had in scorne,

His doctrine made a iest,

Their mockeries were a martirdome;

No wrongs but him opprest.

What courage lesse then his

Would haue indur’d like shame,

But would with greefs of such contempt

Haue dide t’ indure the same?

A little from that place,

Vpon the left-hand side,

There is a curious portlie dore,

Right beautifull and wide.

Leaue that in anie wise,

Forbid thy foot goe thether;

For out thereat did Iudas goe,

Despaire and he together.

But to the right hande turne,

Where is a narrow gate,

Forth which St Peter went to weepe

His poore distrest estate.

Doe immitate the like,

Goe out at Sorrowe’s dore;

Weepe bitterly as he did weepe,

That wept to sinne no more.

Keepe wide of Cayphas’ house,

Though couetous thoughts infence:

There bribery haunts, despair was hatcht;

False Iudas came from thence.

But goe on forward still,

Where Pilat’s pallace stands;

There where he first did false condemne,

Then wash his guiltie hands:

Confess’d he found no cause,

And yet condemn’d to die,

Fearing an earthly Cæsar more

Then God that rules on hie.

By this direction then

The way is vnderstood;

No porch, no dore, nor hal to passe,

Vnsprinckled with Christ’s blood.

So shall no errour put

Misguiding steppes betweene;

For euery drop sweet Iesus shed

Is freshly to be seene.

A crowne of piercing thornes

There lies imbru’d in gore;

The garland that thy Sauiour’s head

For thy offences wore.

Which when thou shalt behold,

Thinke what his loue hath binne,

Whose head was loaden with those briers

T’ vnlade thee of thy sinne:

Whose sacred flesh was torne;

Whose holie skinne was rent;

Whose tortures and extreamest paines

Thy paines in hell preuent.

As God from Babilon

Did turne, when they past cure

Refused helpe; whom he would heale,

Denying health t’ indure:

So from Hierusalem

The soule’s phisition goes,

When they forsook his sauing health,

And vow’d themselues his foes.

Goe with him, happie soule,

From that forsaken towne;

Vpon whose wals lies not a stone,

But ruine must throw downe.

Follow his feet that goes

For to redeeme thy losse,

And carries all our sinnes with him

To cansel on his crosse.

Behold what multitudes

Doe guard thy God about,

Who bleeding beares his dying tree

Amidst the Iewish rout.

Looke on with liquid eies,

And sigh from sorrowing mind,

To see the death’s-man goe before,

The murdering troupes behind:

Centurion hard at hand,

The theeues vpon the side,

The exclamations, shouts, and cries,

The shame he doth abide.

Then presse amongst the throng,

Thyselfe with sorrowes weed;

Get very neere to Christ, and see

What teares the women shed:

Teares that did turne him backe,—

They were of such a force—

Teares that did purchase daughters’ names

Of father’s kind remorse.

To whom hee said, Weepe not:

For me drop not a teare;

Bewaile your offspring and yourselues,

Greefe’s cause vnseene is neare.

Follow their steps in teares,

And with those women mourne,

But not for Christ; weepe for thyselfe,

And Christ will grace returne.

To Pilat’s bold demands

He yeelded no replie;

Although the iudge importun’d much,

Yet silence did denie.

Vnto his manie words

No answere Christ would make;

Yet to those women did he speake,

For teares’ and weeping’ sake.

Thinke on their force by teares—

Teares that obtained loue—

Where words too weak could not persuade,

How teares had power to moue.

Then looke toward Iesus’ load,

More then he could indure,

And how for helpe to beare the same

A hireling they procure.

Ioine thou vnto the crosse;

Beare it of loue’s desire;

Doe not as Cyranæus did,

That took it vp for hire.

It is a gratefull deed,

If willing vnderta’ne;

But if compulsion set aworke,

The labour’s done in vaine.

The voluntarie death,

That Christ did die for thee,

Giues life to none but such as ioy

Crosse-bearing friends to be.

Vp to Mount Caluerie

If thou desire to goe,

Then take thy crosse, and follow Christ;

Thou canst not misse it so.

When there thou art arriu’d

His glorious wounds to see,

Say, but as faithfull as the theefe,

O Lord, remember me.

Assure thyselfe to haue

A gift, all gifts excelling,

Once sold by sinne, once bought by Christ,

For saints’ eternall dwelling.

By Adam Paradise

Was sinne’s polluted shade:

By Christ the dunghill Golgotha

A Paradise was made.