English Puritan & Reformed

A Private Thank-Oblation

George Wither (1588-1667) · 2,471 words · 11 min

The source for this document is https://quod.lib.umich.edu/e/eebo2/A96742.0001.001

Project Note

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The source of this document is the Early English Books Online (EEBO-TCP) website. Those books were transcribed in a character for character manner and can be very cumbersome to read since there was no standard spelling during that time. Many spelling variations such as "unlesse", "vnlesse", and "vnles" regularly appear.

This project was conceived to clean up those books as much as possible and make them more accessible to the interested reader, leading to the creation of a massive list of variant spellings and their corrections. This was used to clean up the text, but is of course only as complete as the list itself. Because of the nature of the original transcription, some words have missing characters or places where the original language (e.g., Greek) was not transcribed. This effort does not change that. Be aware that the original transcription can also be faulty and in some cases entire sentences may be missing.

Although this is no substitute for a properly compared, proofed, and scholarly edition, I believe that the result is a document which is far more accessible, particularly for searching for terms using standard spelling. The document has been cleaned and presented in what I hope is a pleasing and useful format for the vast majority of Christian brothers and sisters who just want access to read these spiritually nourishing works.

However, a word of warning: The Puritans were a very diverse group of people and their age was characterized with godliness, but also much upheaval, disputation and strife. They disagreed on many doctrines and some of these works contain less orthodox or Scriptural views than others. The reader is strongly advised to read with discernment, particularly if it is unknown whether author is trustworthy.

This project took a huge amount of time and skill to bring to fruition. I would particularly like to thank David Jonescue for the initial list of Puritans he found on EEBO and the concept behind this project as well as the continuous, unceasing efforts toward seeing this complete. Without his labor, this would not be available. Alex Sarrouf was invaluable in providing the initial list of over 7,000 spelling variations he had identified and corrected, as well as continuing to review more than 16,000 additions to that list for any typos.

Logan West
(with David Jonescue and Alex Sarrouf)
www.puritansearch.org

Carmen Eucharisticon: A PRIVATE THANK-OBLATION, Exhibited to the Glory of THE LORD OF HOSTS, FOR The timely and wonderful Deliverance, vouchsafed to this NATION, in the routing of a numerous Army of Irish Rebells before Dublin, by the Sword of his valiant Servant, MICHAEL JONES, Lieutenant-General for the Parliament of ENGLAND.

Composed by Geo. Wither Esquire, August 29. 1649.

         The longest lasting
         
          Sacrifice
         
         Is that, which most neglected lies.
        
         Sweet
         
          Incense
         
         into nothing fumes;
        
         The
         
          Fat of Beasts
         
         away consumes;
        
         A
         
          Song,
         
         which doth
         
          GOD's
         
         Works commend,
        
         Continues longer; yet, hath end:
        
         But
         
          perfect-love
         
         is an
         
          Oblation,
         
         Which hath no final consumation.

Aug: 30 London: Printed by Robert Austin. 1649.

Carmen Eucharisticon: A PRIVATE THANK-OBLATION, EXHIBITED To the Glory of the LORD OF HOSTS, &c.

         PUblike-Duties
        
        being done,
       
        By myself, I will now alone,
       
        Consummate a
        
         Private-one.
        
        Therefore, O my Soul! awake;
       
        And, let both, with heart and tongue,
       
        Such a
        
         Song of Praise
        
        be sung,
       
        That, thereby, both old and young,
       
        Of GOD's mercies heed may take.

        For, such
        
         Trophies
        
        (though now waved)
       
         Moses, Deborah,
        
        and
        
         David,
        
        When they from their foes were saved,
       
        Did, with good acceptance, raise:
       
        And (though other
        
         Thank-Oblations
        
        Perish'd, with their Generations)
       
        GOD is, yet, throughout all Nations,
       
        Honor'd by their
        
         Songs of Praise.

        We, to thee, O LORD! have
        
         prayed,
        
         Thanks
        
        returned,
        
         sung,
        
        and
        
         said,
        
        And, our
        
         common-duty
        
        paid,
       
        As we could perform the same:
       
        That, which we have seen, and heard,
       
        Of thy
        
         merciful regard,
        
        Hath been openly declared,
       
        To the glory of thy
        
         Name.

        But, O GOD! we may as well
       
        Close the
        
         Seas
        
        up, in a
        
         shell,
        
        As enabled be to tell
       
        Thy
        
         Compassions
        
        large extent;
       
        Or, to make full illustration
       
        Of thy favors to this
        
         Nation,
        
        In our frequent preservation
       
        From the furious
        
         Foes
        
        intent.

        For, that
        
         single-mercy,
        
        LORD,
       
        Which this Day we do record,
       
        Many
        
         mercies
        
        doth afford,
       
        More then all men can perceive.
       
        That
        
         Deliverance,
        
        made way
       
        For another
        
         joyful-day,
        
        And that, peradventure, may
       
        Bring to pass, what we would have.

        With vain
        
         Moab,
        
        did conspire
       
         Ammon, Amalek,
        
        and
        
         Tyre,
        
        Threatning, like consuming fire,
       
        To destroy thy
        
         chosen Flock;
        
        And, in hope, their will to do,
       
        They have hired
        
         Balaam
        
        too,
       
        With
        
         false Prophets
        
        many moe,
       
        To advance a
        
         stumbling-block.

        Of their vain presumings proud,
       
        They like Thunder from a cloud,
       
        Did begin to roar aloud
       
        In deluded people's ears;
       
        And their empty vanities,
       
        Blushlesse brags, and shameless lies,
       
        Fill'd the hearts of men unwise,
       
        With false hopes, and causeless fears.

        The fooled
        
         Welsh,
        
        the faithless
        
         Scot,
        
        And our
        
         English
        
        mis-begot,
       
        Joyning in an
        
         Irish plot,
        
        Sought to root us from the
        
         Land:
        
        They with
        
         Sulphur, Sword,
        
        and
        
         Flame,
        
        Round about our
        
         dwellings
        
        came,
       
        And, had brought us all to shame,
       
        Had not, GOD, stretched forth his hand.

        But, he, thereof notice took;
       
        And, as
        
         Sisera
        
        he struck,
       
        With his Host, by
        
         Kishon-brook;
        
        So, he smote them in their pride:
       
        And, the same success they had
       
        Which befell to
        
         Benhadad,
        
        When, the like account he made,
       
        That, the
        
         spoil
        
        he should divide.

        For, whilst
        
         Ormond,
        
        and while
        
         Taaff,
        
        In their Tents, did game, and quaff,
       
        (At our sad condition laugh)
       
        And, of
        
         Captives
        
        predispos'd;
       
        Then, that
        
         Arm,
        
        which they despised,
       
        Suddenly, their
        
         Camp
        
        surprised;
       
        And, the snares, which they devised
       
        For our feet, their own enclosed.

         Mich'el,
        
        and his
        
         Angels,
        
        there
       
        Threw their
        
         Dragon-Cavaliere,
        
        With his
        
         Angels,
        
        from our
        
         Sphere,
        
        In confusion, to their own;
       
        Where, unable to repent,
       
        They despairingly lament,
       
        And blaspheme with discontent,
       
         Him,
        
        that hath such
        
         mercy
        
        shown.

        For, though (blinded in their sin)
       
         Outwardly,
        
        they jeer and grin;
       
        Hellish horrors lurk within,
       
        Filling their faint hearts with fears:
       
        Their
        
         chief refuge,
        
        is a
        
         lie;
        
        And, which way soe're they fly,
       
         Guilt
        
        pursues them with a cry,
       
        Which the GOD of Justice hears.

        Their accusing
        
         conscience,
        
        feels
       
         Vengeance
        
        following them at heels,
       
        And, her dreadful Charet wheels
       
        Threatning, what to them is due:
       
        Yet, infernal indignation,
       
        Stirs them up to vindication,
       
        Height'ned by a desperation
       
        Of those ends, which they pursue.

        And, that made them take the field,
       
        (Trusting in their sword and shield)
       
        When their conscience bid them yield:
       
        But, they soon did back retire,
       
        And, to fly away began,
       
        As when the
        
         Philistines
        
        ran,
       
        From the sword of
        
         Jonathan,
        
        And, but one sleight armed
        
         Squire.

        Never was there such a day
       
        Seen till then at
        
         Ballacleagh,
        
        Since the
        
         Liffy
        
        washed her Kea,
       
        And, there, first, the
        
         Sea-Nimphs
        
        met:
       
        For, GOD's arm, did there, and then,
       
        Give us
        
         Limster
        
        back agen,
       
        When it was nigh lost; and, when,
       
         Hope,
        
        was with
        
         despairs
        
        beset.

        Yet, as if that days success,
       
        Had too little been, unless
       
        He considered our distress,
       
        In our
        
         London-Derry
        
        friends;
       
        Or, lest else, blind
        
         ignorance
        
        Might judge, that an act of
        
         chance,
        
        He, our free
        
         deliverance,
        
        Into
        
         Ulster,
        
        too, extends.

        And, by that redoubled blow,
       
        Gave another overthrow;
       
        For,
        
         Designements
        
        one or two,
       
        By that means dissolved be:
       
        Which hath so enraged them,
       
        That, they rail, revile, blaspheme,
       
        And their own belief condemn,
       
        For believing what they see.

        Oh! what pen, or tongue is there
       
        Fully able to declare,
       
        What, to us, GOD'S
        
         Mercies
        
        were
       
        Since our
        
         Champion
        
        he hath been?
       
        Nay, who can half that recite,
       
        Which for us, in open sight,
       
        He hath done since
        
         Nasby-Fight,
        
        Where, he, first, was plainly seen?

        He hath magnifi'd his
        
         worth
        
        In most glorious marchings forth,
       
        From the
        
         South,
        
        unto the
        
         North,
        
        And, through all our
        
         British-Coasts;
        
         England, Scotland, Ireland, Wales,
        
         Towns,
        
        and
        
         Fields,
        
        and
        
         Hills,
        
        and
        
         Dales,
        
         Sea,
        
        and
        
         Land,
        
        him, justly calls
       
        The Victorious LORD of HOASTS.

        Frequently, our eyes behold,
       
         Mercies,
        
        great and manifold,
       
        Such, as were in times of old,
       
        By his
        
         Chosen Flock
        
        enjoyed:
       
        Such, as were vouchsafed, when
       
         Hundreds,
        
        chased were by
        
         ten;
        
         Thousands,
        
        by a hundred men,
       
        And great
        
         Hosts,
        
        by few destroyed.

        We have seen God marching, so,
       
        With our
        
         Friends,
        
        against our
        
         Foe,
        
        As he did, long time ago,
       
        When his-
        
         Israel
        
        were oppressed:
       
        And, securing us from fear;
       
        When our hopes at lowest were;
       
        When despised, we did appear,
       
        And our-peril most increased.

        When all seemed at once on fire;
       
        When our
        
         Brethren
        
        did conspire,
       
        With our
        
         Foes,
        
        to blow that higher,
       
        Which did flame too high, before;
       
        When within their hearts they said,
       
         We so deep, our Plots have laid,
        
         That divine, with human aid,
        
         Shall prevent them, now no more.

        Yea, when said it was by some,
       
         What is of their God become,
        
         Who, they dreamed, should save them from
        
         What our Counsel hath decreed?
        
        Then, did God, himself, arise;
       
        Then, his
        
         Arm,
        
        in glorious wise,
       
        Saves us from our
        
         Enemies,
        
        In the times of greatest need.

        And not only from their power,
       
        (Arm'd, and gaping to devour,)
       
        Hath he kept this Land of our,
       
        But, he more then this hath done;
       
        Them, who to enslave us thought,
       
        And, our causeless ruin sought,
       
        Underneath our feet he brought,
       
        That they might be trod upon.

        Nay, we have, yet more to say:
       
        Though our
        
         Foes,
        
        lie night and day,
       
        In our bosoms, to betray;
       
        And disguised are like Friends;
       
        God, hath still prevented so,
       
        What their malice prompts them to,
       
        That, themselves, they still undo;
       
        But, accomplish not their ends.

        We have seen GOD, in our days,
       
        Walking on, in all those
        
         ways,
        
        Which (to his eternal praise)
       
        Were in
        
         former Ages,
        
        trod:
       
        In our
        
         joys,
        
        and when we
        
         weep,
        
        In our
        
         wakings,
        
        in our
        
         sleep,
        
        On the
        
         Heights,
        
        and in the
        
         Deep,
        
        We have seen thy steps O GOD!

        We have seen, here, where we dwell,
       
        Works of thine, which parallel
       
        All that
        
         ancient-stories
        
        tell
       
        Touching either
        
         Foes,
        
        or
        
         Friends.
        
        Yea, if all
        
         Records
        
        were lost,
       
        We by that, which now thou dost,
       
        Might collect what do we must,
       
        And, what each man's
        
         way
        
        attends.

        We have seen (and see we shall)
       
        What to
        
         Pharaoh
        
        did befall,
       
        And ordained is for all
       
        Who shall obstinate remain:
       
        We have seen, that upon such,
       
         Plagues,
        
        or
        
         Mercies
        
        work not much,
       
        And, that these two often touch
       
        On some, softened hearts, in vain.

        We have known men, once or twice,
       
        Warned; yea, afflicted thrice;
       
        Yet,
        
         habituated Vice,
        
        In her posture doth abide
       
        And, her
        
         Lovers,
        
        without stop,
       
        Prosecute their fruitless
        
         hope,
        
        Though their
        
         Partners
        
        daily drop,
       
        Down to hell, on every side.

        We have seen the pride of
        
         Kings,
        
        With those much desired things,
       
        Whence their vain ambition springs,
       
        Scorn'd, despised, and set at naught.
       
        We, their
        
         silk,
        
        their
        
         pearls,
        
        their
        
         gold,
        
        And their
        
         prccious Jemms,
        
        behold
       
        Scattred, pawned, bought and sold;
       
        And to shame, their glory brought.

        We have seen fair seeming
        
         Starrs,
        
        Thither tumbled from high Sphears,
       
        Where their vanity appears;
       
        And that
        
         wisemen
        
        may dispense
       
        With deluding
        
         Sophistries,
        
        To promote, what they devise,
       
        Till they put their trust in
        
         lies,
        
        Through a
        
         reprobated sense.

        We have seen, when GOD, once, makes
       
        Search for
        
         Blood,
        
        what
        
         hills
        
        he shakes;
       
        What high
        
         Cedars,
        
        down he breaks;
       
        And what portion he prepares
       
        For
        
         Apostates, Balaamites,
        
        For blood-thirsty
        
         Canaanites,
        
        And self-seeking
        
         Hypocrites,
        
        When their sin at full appears.

        All these things, and many moe
       
        Such as these, we see and know:
       
        Oh! that we could mind them too!
       
        And our lives thereby amend:
       
        For his
        
         Mercy
        
        shown of late,
       
        (And which we commemorate,
       
        By Commandment from the
        
         State
        
        )
       
        Was vouchsafed to that end.

        Let us therefore not suppose,
       
        'It is enough to do like those,
       
        Who make only
        
         Verball shows
        
        Of the duties in command;
       
        For, unless, in deeds, as well
       
        As in
        
         words,
        
        our thanks we tell,
       
        As unthankfully we deal,
       
        As if we had cursed, and ban'd.

        Yea, although our
        
         Temples
        
        ring
       
        Of GOD'S praise; though loud we sing,
       
        And all those
        
         Thank-offerings
        
        bring,
       
        Which the
        
         Formalist
        
        oblates;
       
        Yet, if we perform no more,
       
        He our
        
         presents
        
        doth abhor,
       
        As the hiring of a whore,
       
        And our vain
        
         Lip-service
        
        hates.

        If, we therewith, do not heed,
       
        How with us GOD doth proceed;
       
        And, how, he at every need,
       
        Hears us, timely, when we call,
       
        That, to such, as helpless lie,
       
        We may yield the like supply,
       
        When to us, for help they cry;
       
        We, ere long time, rue it shall.

        Yea, unless we pity more
       
        The oppressions of the
        
         poor,
        
        Then we-have done heretofore,
       
        And to
        
         Justice
        
        more adhere;
       
        This, will prove but a
        
         delusion,
        
        And all
        
         mercies
        
        in conclusion,
       
        Bring upon us just confusion,
       
        When such vengeance we least fear.

        Still, in
        
         selfnesse
        
        if we live;
       
        Much receive, but nothing give;
       
        Cheare ourselves, and others grieve;
       
        We are in the
        
         way
        
        of
        
         death:
        
        And, of whatsoever esteem,
       
        In our own conceits, we seem,
       
        God will cast us quite from him,
       
        If we settle in that
        
         path.

        For, it is for nothing less
       
        Then this
        
         Nations
        
        righteousness,
       
        Or, our sakes, that GOD doth bless
       
        Those designs we undertake:
       
        But, 'tis rather from their sin,
       
        Who have our
        
         opposers
        
        been,
       
        Whence our
        
         Victories
        
        begin,
       
        And, for GOD's free mercy sake.

        For no
        
         goodness
        
        of our own,
       
        Did GOD's hand the
        
         King
        
        uncrowne,
       
        And pull other
        
         Tyrants
        
        down;
       
        Nor, because, he, yet, doth see
       
        That our zealous
        
         Protestations,
        
        Or pretended
        
         Reformations
        
        Of our great abominations,
       
        With our practices agree.

        But by
        
         mercy
        
        he makes way.
       
        To his
        
         fear;
        
        that, yet we may
       
         Hear his voice, while 'tis, today;
        
        Whereunto, if we incline,
       
        Maugre, then, all former sinnings,
       
        Our late seasonable winnings,
       
        Shall be pledges, and beginnings
       
        Of a
        
         mercy
        
        more divine.

        Oh, now therefore, let our
        
         praise
        
        Be
        
         right-walkings,
        
        in his
        
         ways,
        
        And,
        
         believing
        
        what he says:
       
        Let our
        
         thankfulness
        
        be, still,
       
        In true charity expressed;
       
        In relieving men oppressed;
       
        And, endeavoring our best,
       
        In obedience, to his
        
         will.

        Let us prudently forbear
       
        To wax proud, or domineer,
       
        When GOD, for us, doth appear;
       
        And, with
        
         awe
        
        express our joy:
       
        Lest, if we presumptuous grow,
       
        He may (for our doing so)
       
        Turn his anger from our
        
         Foe;
        
        Or, both
        
         him
        
        and
        
         us
        
        destroy.

        We have seen the
        
         strong
        
        defeated;
       
        By himself, the
        
         cheater cheated;
        
         Men ambitious
        
        lower seated;
       
        And, long-fixed
        
         Powers
        
        removed;
       
        Nay, even such as we reputed
       
        Things divinely constituted,
       
        Are destroyed; and, they confuted,
       
        Who, have them, for such, approved.

        We have seen those things despised,
       
        Which our
        
         Fathers
        
        highly prized,
       
        And the
        
         whole earth
        
        Idolized;
       
        Therefore, let us, now, forever,
       
        Constant be to that
        
         perfection,
        
        Which deserveth not rejection,
       
        And, renounce our vain affection
       
        To the ways of our
        
         deceiver.

        Let those things, which GOD hath done
       
        For these
        
         Isles,
        
        be thought upon,
       
        Not at such set times, alone,
       
        As the
        
         Civil Powers
        
        command;
       
        But; now let us;
        
         all our days,
        
        Meditate his
        
         works,
        
        and
        
         ways,
        
        And be mindful of his
        
         praise;
        
        Whilst there shall be Sea, or Land.

        And, Oh my eternal Lord!
       
        Let thy all-subduing
        
         Sword,
        
        But, that chiefly of thy
        
         Word,
        
        Thus prevail, for evermore;
       
        Make it still victorious grow,
       
        Till to thee all
        
         Monarchs
        
        bow,
       
        And, till vengeance thou shalt throw
       
        On the
        
         Dragon,
        
        and the
        
         Whore.

        Well accept, this day, what we
       
        Have in public offered thee;
       
        And, this
        
         private Mite,
        
        from me,
       
        Which I now presume to add:
       
        For, in every
        
         Act of Grace,
        
        Which by thee vouchsafed was,
       
        Since my breathings in this
        
         place,
        
        I, some special
        
         fruits
        
        have had.

        In the many variations
       
        Of thy
        
         works,
        
        and
        
         dispensations,
        
        Unto these
        
         divided Nations,
        
        I have learned to find out
        
         thee.
        
        I, by them, thy mind discover,
       
        And, I daily read thee over,
       
        As my
        
         God, King, Father, Lover;
        
        And, as
        
         all
        
        in
        
         all,
        
        to me.

        I have found thee in their
        
         failings;
        
        In their
        
         losings,
        
        and
        
         prevailings;
        
        In their
        
         joys,
        
        and their
        
         bewailings;
        
        In their
        
         hardness,
        
        and their
        
         blindness:
        
        In their
        
         Trust,
        
        and their
        
         suspicions,
        
        In their
        
         false,
        
        and
        
         true professions,
        
        In their
        
         good,
        
        and
        
         bad conditions;
        
        In their
        
         love,
        
        and their
        
         unkindness.

        And, although this
        
         Generation,
        
        Yet, beholds not what relation,
       
        To their
        
         fall;
        
        or
        
         preservation,
        
        My despised
        
         Poems
        
        have;
       
        Some, ere long, will better heed them,
       
        And (though few, now, think they need them)
       
        Thou, wilt give them cause to read them,
       
        When I shall be in my
        
         grave.

        Oh! till then, let me persevere,
       
        My known
        
         duties
        
        to endeavor,
       
        With true
        
         patience,
        
        howsoever
       
        Thou shalt exercise my
        
         Faith:
        
        And, in every strong
        
         Temptation,
        
         Trial, Straight,
        
        or
        
         Tribulation,
        
        Mind me, for my
        
         Consolation,
        
        What, thy truthfull
        
         Spirit
        
        saith.

        To what ever, thou shalt call me,
       
        Or, what ever may befall me,
       
        Let no
        
         Terrene-Power
        
        appale me,
       
        From declaring of thy
        
         Truth;
        
        Let me, all my wits apply,
       
        Thy great
        
         Name
        
        to magnify,
       
        Whilst I live; and when I die,
       
        Let thy
        
         praise
        
        be in my mouth.

        And, when here I have completed,
       
        That, for which I was created,
       
        Let me thither be translated,
       
        Where thy
        
         Saints,
        
        the
        
         Lamb
        
        attend;
       
        That, I, may in praising him,
       
        There communicate with them,
       
        In that everlasting
        
         Hymn,
        
        Which, will never have an end.

AMEN. HALELUJAH.

FINIS.