Five sermons preached upon sundry especial occasions Viz. 1 The sinners mourning habitFiue sermons preached vpon sundry especiall occasions Viz. 1 The sinners mourning habit

First the Lord hath showed us the way to be fruitful, by his own example. He owes us nothing: if he withhold good things, we cannot ⟨p. 53⟩challenge him: if he sends us good things, we are bound to thank him. The last year, how general was the complaint all over this Kingdom? The Mower could not fill his sith, nor the binder up of sheaves his bosom. The beasts perished for want of fodder, yea, children dyed in the street with hunger: the poor Father not being able with all his weeks labour to buy them (only) bread. The fields were thin, and the barns thinner: little in many places there was to gather, and the unseasonable weather prevented the gathering of that little. The emptiness of their bowels did justly fill our bowels with compassion: Famine is a sore plague. We then cried unto the Lord for fruits, and he heard us: Lo in how plentiful a harvest he hath answered our desires, to his own praise, and our comfort! Yea, he concluded all with songs and triumphs, a joyful harvest-home; the best sheaf of our Wheat, the best grape of the Vintage, the best flower of our garland, the best fruit of that royal Tree, the safe return of our gracious Prince. These be the fruits of his mercy to us, where be the fruits of our thankfulness to him?

First the Lord hath shewed vs the way to be fruitful, by his owne example. He owes vs nothing: if he withold good things, we cannot ⟨p. 53⟩chalenge him: if he sends vs good things, we are bound to thanke him. The last yeare, how generall was the complaint all ouer this Kingdome? The Mower could not fill his sythe, nor the binder vp of sheues his bosome. The beasts perished for want of fodder, yea, children dyed in the street with hunger: the poore Father not being able with all his weekes labour to buy them (onely) bread. The fields were thin, and the barnes thinner: little in many places there was to gather, and the vnseasonable weather preuented the gathering of that little. The emptines of their bowels did iustly fill our bowels with compassion: Famine is a sore plague. Wee then cryed vnto the Lord for fruits, and he heard vs: Loe in how plentifull a haruest hee hath answered our desires, to his owne praise, and our comfort! Yea, he concluded all with songs and triumphs, a ioyfull haruest-home; the best sheafe of our Wheat, the best grape of the Vintage, the best flower of our garland, the best fruit of that royall Tree, the safe returne of our gracious Prince. These be the fruits of his mercie to vs, where be the fruits of our thankefulnesse to him?