as is due Our seales to witnesse that thy word is true But all the praise or profit else redound From our beleeving on our heads rebound We do beleeve because it is thy will But by beleeving our desires fulfill What thou commandest ought to be fulfild But we obeying conquer whiles we yeeld Most gratious God what Lord is like to thee Whose Laws give life and whose commands make free Well my we to thy statutes have regard In keeping which there is such great reward And yet in all thy just commands injoynd This one of all we do most easie find Which is our faith yet this of all the rest Most richly crownes us and doth please thee best Dear faith how deep are thy foundations laid Most glorious things may well of thee be said Could we but in thy nature perfect prove The highest mountaines at our beck Would move Through thee we see our sines are wash'd away To thee the very powers of sin obey By thee we are made heires of things above Yea have an intrest in the God of love And mounted on the sublime wings we fly With boldnesse to the Throne of grace on high The fire and faith agree in these respects The fire hath heat and faith hath its effects Only the heat doth from the fire proceed Even so from faith do other graces breed Faith then is mother of each other grace Those not borne of her are but brats of base For till that faith doth sanctifie our hearts Our highest vertues are but morall parts Faith Lord is then thy stampe upon the coyn To make it currant and acknowledg'd thine Upon our graces wherein thou dost read The very Image of thy selfe indeed Lord melt our hearts then which are else but flint That this thy stamp may therein leave thy print And make the working luster of it bright For we can know it by no other light For as some pretious roots within the ground Can not or can be very hardly found But only when the springtime doth declare Their secret lodgings by the fruit thy beare So faith that plant implanted in our soules Growes so concealed from our sight like moules That we want knowledge to discern that root But by the branches and the fruits that sproot Faith then we must have or we must lose all A living faith too or else die we shall Faiths life appeareth by the fruit it beares It fruit appeareth being grain not tares O pretious fruit may that in us be found We have no cause then to suspect the ground Only it doth belong to us to weed And cast out all that may offend the seed Conscience wounded with sin Psalme 38. MIne iniquities are gone over mine head as an heavy Burthen too heavy for me verse 4. My wounds stinck and are corrupt because of my foolishnesse verse 5. I am troubled I am bowed downe greatly I goe mourning all the day long verse 6. For my loynes are full with a loathsome disease and there is no sound part in my flesh verse 7. I am feeble and sore broken I have roared because of the disquietnesse of my heart verse 7. Oyle and wine powred in Psalme 42. VVHy art thou so cast down oh my soule and why art thou so disquieted within me hope thou in God Psalme 103. THe Lord is mercifull and gratious slow to anger and plentious in goodnesse verse 8. He will not alwaies chide neither will he keepe his anger for ever verse 9. Like as a Father pittieth his children so the Lord pittieth them that feare him verse 13. For hee knoweth our frame he remembreth we are but dust verse 14. Desires of Aid THou good Samaritan thou God of art Good by thy readynesse God by thy skill In powring Oyle and wine into the heart That sin hath wounded oh direct my quill That in that best experience sence of feeling I may discover both to wound and healing We are the wounded Travellers indeed But thou art wounded with compassion more Our wounds do make thy wounded heart to bleed Thy blood applyd doth he ale our bleeding sore Oh pretious balme oh let it be applyd And let my hand be by thy help a guide The Conscience wounded with sin OH my mine iniquities my sin my sin Too heavy for me oh I sinck therein It doth go over as it were my head Intolerable burden no such lead My wounds are putrifi'd corrupt and stinck My foolishnesse is such my teares I drink Troubl'd and pressed with the weight I beare All the day mourning never free from care My loynes are fil'd with loathsomnesse besides There is no soundnesse in my flesh abides My conscience roares within me and the smart Torments me with the anguish of my heart Oyle and wine powred in BUt why art thou thus cast down oh my soule Why dost thou not those fearfull doubts controull Why art thou thus disquieted in my brest Oh trust in God returne unto thy rest The Lord the Lord is mercifull and kind Most slow to wrath and to forgive inclin'd Although offended doth not alwaies chide His anger doth but for a space abide Like a most tender Father to his childe So is he pitifull and much more milde For he considers where our frailty lyes And therefore bears with our infirmities The Authors Epigram COnscience oh conscience how comes this to passe Canst thou be wounded and yet arm'd in brasse Yea in a habit far more hard then steel A conscience seared hath no sense to feel But can sin wound thus hath it such a dart Yea wound thus deeply pricking at the heart Oh cruell weapon can it thus indent Through brasse through steel yea through this adamant And yet sin works not thus upon the soule That it would conscience in the act controll But rather rocks the conscience most asleep When like an aspe it makes the wound most deep Then there is nothing can do conscience good Till it be sprinkled with dissolving blood But then each motion that doth sin apply Doth wound the conscience and doth terrifie The conscience wounded with sin ALas alas the soule that sinsmust die So Scriptures tell me can the Scriptures lie No no the Scriptures never can be broken No word shall fail that is in Scripture spoken Oh then what comfort can remaine for me How scapes my soule my sinfull soule then free For I have sin'd and sin to death betraies Death is the wages that hard master payes Inviolable word of God herein Most miserable wretch that I did sin Most wretched slave that such a Master hath Most cruell wages oh eternall death Oyle and wine powred in VVHy will you dye thus doth our Father call When I delight not in your death at all Why will you dye then Oh returne and live I pardon sin and freely doe forgive My mercies please me I delight remorse But justice comes forth by constraint and force Beleeve and live this God the Son hath brought us And by his death from death eternall
bought us He paid our ransome and doth to us cry He that beleeves in me shall never dye He trode the winepresse of that bitter grape And drank the dregs off that we might escape The Authors Epigram THe soule that sins shall dye so Scripture saith And Scripture is our evidence of faith Againe the Scripture evidence doth give That such a soule as doth beleeve shall live Is then beleeving in our Saviour dying Or is his death made our death by applying How can the Scriptures here be reconcil'd Can we both save the parent and the childs Surely Gods justice must be fully pay'd But see Gods mercy how the debt is laid Man is ingaged man is quite undone God to redeem man layes to pawne his Son But man hath sin'd can God then satisfie Yes God for man doth become man and dye Whose guiltlesse death to guilty man apply'd Is more then if that all the world had dy'd The conscience wounded with sin BUt yet I am not satisfy'd alas My soule hath sin'd how can it come to passe Anothers soule should set my soule then free What can anothers death be unto me When Scripture doth directly testifie The soule that sins that very soule shall die Besides my sins they are exceeding great Nay more I feare my sins are desp'rate I have been such an enemy to heaven That I suspect I cannot be forgiven I faine would beare up but this beats me downe This milstone sincks me oh it makes me drown Oyle and wine powred in BY the first Adam all are bound to dye What there was lost the Second doth supply In the first Adam soule and body slain But in the Second both made live again For in our whole man Christ hath fully paid What can be unto soule or body laid Can then the greatnesse of mans sinning let When God himselfe hath undertooke the debt No be the bill ingaging us most large Yet having faith we need not fear discharge For as in Adam all condemned be Even so in Christ are all by faith made free The Authors Epigram OLd Adam falling all men fell therein Because that all men were in Adam then Christ our new Adam to renue old man Within our natures a new birth began By which new birth we are new borne indeed We in this nature are new Adams seed Begotten in him as the Scripture saith In him we live we move and dwell by faith By faith indeed for without faith we dye Within this field doth all our treasure lye Through Adams sin we by descent are slaine But through new birth we live in Christ again Besides in Christ we were condemn'd and dy'd He in our whole man all our wants supply'd Nor yet is justice in this nature crost If one man saves as much as one man lost The conscience wounded with sin BUt oh my conscience is not yet at rest Sin yet doth wound me it doth yet molest What though it were so that all mankinde be By Christ from sin originall set free And so our second Adam doth rest ore What our first Adam set upon our score Alas this cannot conscience free from care I have a load of actuall sin to beare What though I once were drest in cleane attire I have return'd to wallowing in the mire My actuall sin is more then Adams curse Condemnes more strongly and torments me worse Oyle and wine powred in MIsguided conscience be informed better Our father Adam was a greater debter As he was guilty of our root of sin So of the branches that take life therein That were his score not by another paid All sin might justly to his charge be laid Even so our second Adam hath made good All whatsoever can be understood Was lost in Adam and hath charged bin Both with the root and branches of our sin And given for all sin a discharge although All sinners have not their discharge to show The Authors Epigram OH subtill serpent how could he invent One should be charg'd with all mens punishment And yet not one man thereby have redresse Alas not one mans punishment the lesse But loving Father who hast sent thy Son To undoe all this hatefull foe hath done Thy wisdome doth his subtilty exceed Making him only guilty mankinde freed Freed by the freedome that thy Son hath wrought The Price whereby he hath our freedom bought Is sure sufficient fully to acquit All sin in mankinde mankinde can commit The reason then that any man is lost Is not the want of a redeeming cost But only the redeemed are too blame Not getting their assurance of the same The conscience wounded with sin DOth Christ discharge this debt that man did owe Oh blessed Christ but on condition though Though Christ be in this obligation ty'd Yet t is but on conditions on our side It we performe not the condition then The bond is void and we are undone men What is it then to me though Christ be bound If the condition be not in me found Oh what is this condition I am fraile I feare I shall in this condition fail My conscience tells me I am still ingag'd How shall my conscience be herein aflwag'd Oyle and wine powred in BLest Christ indeed we may most truly say Thus bound for us so great a debt to pay Yet on our part so little doth require And yet that little likewise doth inspire Sure sweet condition easie to fulfill Where meanes doth furnish to discharge the bill Easie indeed what can more easie be Then to beleeve that Christ hath set us free And yet as easie as it is we find This our condition doth no harder bind Nay he that binds us in this golden chain Doth give the thing too he requires again The Authors Epigram OH blessed Saviour what couldst thou do more Who to inrich us mad'st thy selfe as poore And to requite thee whence the Milions came That did redeeme us â—ost accept a dram And yet that dram too which thou dost demand Drop'd from thy fountain falls into our hand Thou hast not only easie payment set But fillst our purses to discharge the debt Oh froward mankind shall we fooles then grâ—â—â—â— To pay so little to receive so much Shall we make forset all we have betray Because we will not a poore homage pay Faith is but as our fealtie here done To hold our right by in our Fathers Son In Christ who is our purchaser from thrall Our right our Portion Righteousnesse and all The Conscience wounded with sin OH blessed faith art thou with God so great Doth he esteeme thee at so dear a rate But wretched I then and of all too blame Who have been so respectlesse of the same That I poore earthworm never understood This heavenly jemme or how it should do good Alas I thought it but a fruitlesse grace Which idle Christians only did imbrace I could no beauty in this Rachel see But blear-eyd Lea seem'd as fair to me And therefore it is justly me injoynd If I
for faith now do meer fancie find Oyle and wine powred in THe slighting faith we must a fault confesse But if it be through ignorance the lesse God winks at times of darknesse though indeed We are not thereby absolutely free'd But when the glorious Sun-shine doth apear What can excuse us if we see not cleer No just excuse can here excusing be And yet the Sun we often clouded see So though our Sun hath chas'd our night away Yet we have cloudes still to obscure our day Our cloud of folly makes our faith retire Yet find we smoke though it do argue fire The Authors Epigram THree clouds on mankind do like mists benight And keep some blinded in the very light First ignorance then carelesnesse the third Is obstinatly to reject the word The first is most excusable of all The second binding to a harder thrall The third exceeds all and is sinfull most If not the sin against the holy Ghost Where meanes is wanting saving faith to find We must not judge there though they yet be blind For God elects and then doth faith foresee Else how could fooles and infants saved be Againe some loyter while they have the day And yet ere night do labour and have pay But such as in the vineyard being pray'd Will never labour shall be never paid The conscience wounded with sin BUt wretched I what can I doe herein How can I labour I am dead in sin Can dead men work I hear indeed the call But can but hear it cannot work at all No worke but dead works God doth such despise He doth delight a living sacrifice I doe confesse I faine would work indeed Fain would believe I fain would learn that creed But oh my sins my sins are in the way My sins doe still my confidence betray I faine would faith unto my selfe assume But sin prevents me tells me I presume Oyle and wine powred in FAith is t is true the gift of God we read God doth both worke the will and eke the deed Faith in this nature is an easie taske We can doe nothing for the same but aske The only labour now impos'd on man Is to discerne and cherish faith began Is faith Gods gift then let us beat up still He can bestow that dowry when he will Nay faith already may infused be Though scarce discerned in a small degree Then though we build not Castles in the ayre Yet we of all things are not to despair The Authors Epigram AS faith doth point at things yet unreveal'd So faith it selfe lyes in it selfe conceal'd And may be long time in the heart no doubt Before we truly finde that sewell out Besides our sins doe much obscure that light And cast a mist before our feeble sight Yea every sin when faith would else aspire Doth helpe to keep down if not quench that fire Sin is indeed faiths enemy profest And the more sin the more is faith supprest But when that faith doth once by force command Sin then doth yeeld faith gets the upper hand Faith for a time may as it were obey But in the end faith alwaies gets the day And as faith prospers by degrees gets strength So sin growes feeble pines and dyes at length Conscience wounded with sin BUt must sin dye and by degrees surcease Where faith doth live as faith doth force increase Oh wretched creature I how shall I do then I feel alas no death but life of sin Sin strives as much as ever heretofore Or rather strugles in my bosome more I doe confesse I feel my soule distrest And faine would feel fin in my soule supprest But when I labour to restrain the same It growes inraged is the worse to tame Oh sad condition oh my soule sincks here Are there no other signs of faith appear Oyle and wine powred in NO signes but such and yet soule sinck not though Sin must be kill'd but dyes not at one blow Sin in our natures will us battell give Though dying whiles we doe in nature live But sin is mostly sure most wounded when It flies on conscience most tormenteth men Are then our conscience through our sins unquiet Sin then and faith sure are in us at sight If sin within us no resistance found Sin in our conscience would delight not wound And thus by signes we secret faith may see Which without signes cannot discerned be The Authors Epigram FAith is indeed our tree of life below Which tree we only by the fruit can know Would we know then if we have faith or no The root lies hid we to the fruit must goe The fruits are feeling first sins wounding dart Next a compunction in the wounded heart From whence proceeds a diligence with speed To get a balsome for these wounds that bleed The other fruits that fruitfull faith doth beare Are ever after to be arm'd with care With zeale and wisdome to resist that foe Who at advantage had deluded so From whence proceeds a hatred unto sin Desire of vertue and delight therein All mens endeavouring that my aid supply To make faith lively and make sin to dye The Conscience wounded with sin OH blessed faith art thou the root indeed Oh would I could with blessed Job then read Thee grounded in me springs doe testifie Though through high mountains that they have supply The fountaine will be falling and the root It will be rising forth will branches shoot I feele indeed some drops of vertue flow And beare some leaves too which doe make a show But oh my conscience cannot so be quiet Such signes are frequent in the hypocrite But sin dissembled under grace is worst The tree which beares but only leaves is curst Oyle and wine powred in FAith is the fountaine whence all graces flow Faith is the root whereon those branches grow And faith gives life though it may lye as hid To all our actions or they else are dead For Christ in whom all fulnesse doth excell If we have faith by faith doth in us dwell Whether our actions though be leaves or fruit None but our conscience truly can dispute Whether the action from the heart proceeds None but the conscience that rare language reads But when the conscience hath true knowledge gain'd That then is fruit which conscience finds unfain'd The Authors Epigram MIsguided mankinde whither have we gone To set up merit in our makers Throne Faith is in Christ and Christ in faith why then Disdaine we faith adore the works of men Sin is the old man wretched and for lorne Begot in Adam in our natures borne Christ is the new Man by a second birth Through faith conceived and by grace brought forth Grace flowes from faith and faith in Christ began Both those united make but one new man And then most blest and not till then we are When in our soules we feele this infant stir Would we then prove this new man to be ours We sure must prove it by renewing powers We must be new
I might not taste But when I in my body shall be grac'd To sit in heaven where none but Saints are plac'd And at most sacred invitations given Shall taste the Supper of the Lambe in heaven My taste shall then in relishing be skil'd And with each sweet distinguished be fill'd Yea taste the sweetnesse of those streames of bloud Those heavenly Fountaines which on earth were shed The Authors Epigram DIves on earth with delicates was fil'd We taste all dainties that the earth can yeeld Dives did in excesse of liquor sin We tun down barrels drown our selves therein Dives thus drinking thought not on the poore We are so drunken we forget them more Dives in hell must therefore suffer need Yea hellish woes then how shall we be freed But once poore Lazarus who on earth distrest Was both with hunger and with thirst opprest Yet in his conscience then injoy'd that feast In which we famish or much fast at least He now in heaven already hath that store We never tasted and shall yet have more For which he sought to which we make no haste For which he long'd in which we feel no taste Dives MY sense of smelling which was once so nice Each stincke offended it but stincking vice I stopt my nostrils and I shut my doores To shut out Lazarus with his fest'red sores Which ayrie sense refresh'd my other powers By sweet perfumes and odoriferous flowers Extracting thence such savours of delight As fed that most attractive appetite This sense in the infecting fogs of hell Shall suck most deadly savours by the smell And stead of flowers and sweet perfuming shall Be fed with fumes of sulphur boild in gall Besides the loathsome savours in this den Of plagued poyson'd and tormented men The stincke of fiends and divells unto me Is now most grosse and shall more grievous be Lazarus MY smelling did on earth some comfort give When I was forc'd Camelian like to live But sweet perfumes and powders vainly spent Made me not proud to make the world a sent Barns styes and stables and full glad of those Were my persumed lodgings of repose My empty stomack of this sense annoy'd My stincking sores my empty stomack cloy'd But when my body shall exalted be To reigne in heaven from all corruption free Where all things are most sweet and purely try'd This sense shall then be sweetly satisfi'd This sense shall then have the preheminence Made of the five the most reviving sense If senses then such instruments shall prove By sucking in some living ayre above The Authors Epigram IF Dives now could but those dainties smell He tasted here he would give thanks in Hell We taste like dainties double if not thrice And yet ungratefull in a Paradise But Dives who here thought not at his board Of God hath now what Divels will afford We oft forget both God and eke our selves Then what hereafter can we looke for else If Lazarus were on earth againe no doubt He would but of our sweetest odoures flout We with our seeming sug'red sweets in love Are but in jest with sweetest joyes above Lazarus did wisely send up ere he went His suits as incense which now yeeld him sent We if we will not of the like despair Must send up first a savour sweet by prayer Dives MY sense of feeling which on earth was that I nurs'd most gently as a tender brat No care was lacking to preserve that sense From the sustaining of the least offence This sense forsooth might not endure the winde I little felt the smart in any kinde Of want of woe of sicknesse or of sin Within my selfe much lesse in other men But when my soule ascending on a chaine Shall fetch my body hither from the slaine I here in hell â—hall in that tender part Be most tormented feel the greatest smart My body here fast bound in fetters lying Shall tortur'd be in flames of sulphur frying My soule most fully then shall feel the sting Of sin that serpent in my conscience wring Lazarus FRe I was borne within my mothers wombe My sense of feeling suffer'd in that tombe And only sadly comming forth that cage I in that part did first salute earths stage And in that part I panted out my breath Till I was taken off that stage by death A wretched life insu'd a painfull birth Most wretched painfull Tragedy on earth But as my soule which was on earth distrest Is now in heaven return'd unto its rest So shall my body breaking ope its grave Ascend up hither from that silent cave Where it shall feel no hunger cold nor smart But heavenly fulnesse and content of heart My feeling sense to make its fulnesse measure Shall here be only sensible of pleasure The Authors Epigram LAzarus was here most patient in distresse We murmure yea seem often mad in lesse Lazarus was not here with his sin diquieted We feel not that or are with that delighted But Lazarus now doth feel his soule at rest Our soules alas not yet with sin distrest But would we finde what Lazarus now doth feel Our hearts must first be gentle here not steel Dives here might not feel the least annoy But Dives he had there for here his joy If here we feel not penitentiall griefe We shall feel desp'rate with the damned theefe But Dives in his feeling sense in hell Is now most plagu'd which plagues shall yet excell If we here make that tender sense our god It will in hell be our most torturing rod Dives MY sense of hearing which was once most nimble To heare each Syrens sugred tongue dissemble Each sound of pleasure musick sweet and worse Hells language people swear blaspeme and curse But when the cry of Lazarus full of care Did pierce the heavens it could not make me heare Nor could those voyces sent from heaven by preaching Repent repent awake me with their teaching This sense in hell instead of musicke sweet When all the damned shall together meet Shall be compell'd to heare me helpe to make A cry in hell would make the earth to shake We desp'rate creatures roaring in hells flame The damned divells raging in the same Gods voice of justice like most hideous thunder Above us with his vengeance boyling under Lazarus MY hearing sense I once did exercise With the sad ecchoes of my childrens cries My beating heart was in my bosome stung To heare those infants cry for food so young Besides the sad heart-breakings at the doore Of rich men rating of my children poore With churlish checks and threats of further griefe Instead of yeelding comfort or reliefe This sense in heaven shall no such language heare But come you blessed kindest welcomes there No churlish motions ever shall repell My suits there granted Dives is in hell This sense in heaven to musick shall attend Which earthly senses can not apprehend For ever ravish'd with those glorious Three To heare how sweetly they in one agree The Authors Epigram
power to die The Scripture only on the soule reflects All earthly objects it as base rejects The soule a spirit therefore only fit To read those copies by the spirit writ This Writ from heaven then summons up thy soul To heaven that Court which issu'd forth this scroule Glew not thy soule then too neare earthly things Hang no such plumets on its sublime wings Againe the Scriptures only have the art To search into the secrets of the heart They only can discover sin and prove Upon the conscience they came from above They only a beginning doe relate No humane Treatise of so ancient date They only have preserved been and shall Though ever doubtlesse envy'd most of all And in them in the sacred Writ I meane As in a glasse is only to be seen That perfect image of supernall might Which can be viewed by no other light There is I grant it in each humane frame An eye by nature fixed in the same Which doth by nature beyond nature see A pow'r there supernaturall must bee Which power no doubt hath deified been From the beginning by the race of men Though most for want of power to understand Ascrib'd that power unto some other hand As some to creatures like themselves but clay Some to the Sun as former of the day Some to the Moon some to the Stars yea know Some to the prince of hell below Yet all to something thus the infidell Beleeves there is a power that doth excell But ignorant of what it is doth faine Or forge a God out of his idle braine Thus natures pen by reasons power no doubt Doth point at God but cannot point him out Doth shew a God but what he is or where That Scriptures only fully can declare Shall then a heathen a meere Infidell Who never heard of either heaven or hell Or dreames of soule alone by natures view Discern there is a God and homage due Which is apparant all the world abroad All nations worship something as a God And shalt thou Atheist dar'st thou all alone Be worst of all men and acknowledge none Thou hast besides the wisest heathens sight Much greater aide far cleerer beames of light Gods holy and eternall word by name Eternall in the nature of the same Where thou maist its eternall author find It only gives that sight unto the blind And this thou hast not so to make thee pos'd As pretious oyntment in a box inclos'd Not only in the hidden letter teaching But open'd by the pow'rfull hand of preaching Canst thou not row then in this calmed ocean Sit'st thou in darknesse in this heav'nly Goshen Dar'st thou deny that Deitie which here Doth in such perfect characters appeare Oh do not thou degenerate so far To be more sordid then the divels are The divels do much forced duty shew To holy Scriptures and do know them true Shall divels then unto the Scriptures bow Confesse and feare them and yet wilt not thou Deluded Atheist be reform'd herein Seeke no such shadowes so to hide thy sin Because the Scriptures render thee unjust Thou dost condemne them so to save thy lust Let not thy senses thus thy soule inthrall For lose the Scriptures and thou dost lose all Both soule and body heav'n and God yea soe Dost likewise purchase everlasting woe T is then no marvell that thou art so blind Or rather desp'rate in thy carnall mind That in thy fancy thou cast apprehend No soule no heav'n nor pow'r that doth transcend How canst thou view these when thou dost in spleen Reject the glasse where these are to be seen The Scriptures are Gods tapers set up here Extinguish those no God will then appeare God in times past aid oft appeare I know In visions and in shadowes here below But when the substance his eternall Son Once shin'd here all those lesser lights had done Bright Sun indeed well might the stars give way And hid themselves in such a heav'nly day A heav'nly day when heaven it selfe we find Burst through the clouds came down to earth and shin'd And yet we find this day at last did fade This glorious Sun at length began to wade And from these nether Regions to retire Ascended to the circles that are higher Well might the world then here beneath lament And put on sackcloath weeds of discontent Bewailing deeply that earth darking day Which from the earth tooke such a light away This heavenly Sun now in the heavens again Whose glory heavens cannot alone containe Did leave some rayes below and now and then Doth dart down more amongst the sonnes of men But all that light now of that heavenly taper Is set up in a lanthorne here of paper In holy Scripture all that light doth shine That is the lanthorne which gives light divine Then thou that first in such a sable night That of this nature thou canst see no light 'T is doubtlesse cause thou dost not duly look Into that lanthorn use that heavenly book Wouldst thou have wisdome have thy sight made cleer Thy heart made gentle and thy soule appear See hell beneath and heav'n that is most high Discern thy maker and eternity Then use the Scripture thy dim feeble sight Is apprehensive of no greater light God knowes such secrets do mans sight surpasse And therefore wisely shewes them through a glasse A glasse indeed the Scripture is most faire And more transparent then the purest aire Through which the perfect Images are view'd Of objects in the highest altitude Presumptuous earth because thou canst not see By carnall reason how these things can be Thou dost conclude they cannot be in fine As if there were no greater power then thine Thou art a peece but of the Potters clay What can the peece unto the Potter say Canst thou suppose the brickle vessell made As skilfull as its maker in his trade But were this granted which were too too grosse Yet thou art vainer at a greater losse All other creatures but the divells bee The same they were created but not we Thou art far weaker worser and hast lost Much of thy Makers workmanship and cost Thy reason is corrupt thy senses soyl'd Thy nature taynted and thy soule defil'd Indeed in the perfection of estate Wherein perfection did thee first create Thy sight was such thou stood'st not then in need Of glasses or of spectacles to read Thy apprehension was not then so weake But thou hadst power to heare thy Maker speake In his owne language and couldst understand Without the helpe of any second hand But long in Adam thou hast lost that art Like Lucifer in acting of his part He would have been although in heav'n yet higher Thou wouldst although in Paradise aspire He saw Gods face yet that would not suffice Thou knew'st his voice yet thou wouldst be more wise He clyming lost the hight he had before And thou thy knowledge by desiring more Canst thou suppose then that impaired light Yet in thy understanding part so bright As
thy store That thou mights furnish what was void before Yea to make fruitfull and adorne that frame Both to inrich and beautifie the same Thou sayd'st unto the waters multiply Be fruitfull and bring forth abundantly Who hearing in their language what was said Without delay most cheerfully obey'd Thou sayd'st unto the earth then barren beare The earth did as it were thy language hear And brought forth thousands multitudes and more Of creatures which were never seen before And to the ayre thy word did but proceed Let there be foules and it was so indeed Lord what a large and wondrous preparation Was this which was the spacious worlds creation To entertaine whose greatnesse was it than Alas but for that little creature Man Nay as if this had been too little still To manifest to mankinde thy good will Thou didst prepare a garden ready deck'd With all the objects in it of delight That might seem pleasing fruit delicious growing On trees most fruitfull streams most pleasant flowing Whose flowry banck with flowers and roses set Appear'd more glorious then the pearles in jet All this prepared in this heavenly sort Thou caldst this councell in thy heavnly court Come let us make man in our Image drest For whom we have created all the rest Thou took'st a peece then of thy late form'd clay And form'd a man in a most perfect way And by a way can not be understood That form converted into flesh and blood Thou only breathedst on his breathlesse face Which gave him life and with that life thy grace Which was infus'd into that power divine His soule in which thy sacred selfe did shine His body was in such perfection made That till the Serpent did his soule invade It could not suffer any kind of wrath But had a power against the power of death But for his soule that was divine indeed In it thou couldst thy sacred Image read In Characters which none could understand So well as thee because it was thy hand Within that center thou couldst cleerly see In one the picture of thy persons three Three faculties within it representing Three Persons in thy Deitie consenting As Father Son and holy Ghost agree To make but one eternall God in thee So understanding memory and will Make but one soule and undevided still The understanding of it selfe as prime The memory by knowledge got in time The will and the affections lastly breeding From knowledge and from memory proceeding All these at first in Adams soule were pure And sparks which had a nature to indure Adam was in his understanding part So holy and so innocent in heart That nakednesse unto his conscience cleere Did neither shame nor nakednesse appeare His memory was unpolluted still Because his knowledge had begot no ill His thoughts his fancies meditations sweet And did not with the least disturbance meet His will and his affections all were free'd From all corruption as they might indeed Those cisterns must with water pure be fill'd Whose fountaines have no other streames to yeeld Lord what a heav'nly harmony was here When all these strings were thus in tune and cleere Heav'nly indeed for thou hadst set the keyes Rare musick for an earthly paradise Again besides this concord in his brest Which cannot be sufficiently exprest All things without him were at peace and stay'd The Lion and the Lamb together play'd Each creature did with other feed and sleep And all to Adam innocent as sheep All these thou gav'st him freely to command Yea all the world as it did blooming stand And bad'st him take and eate restraining none Of all the dainties in the world but one And that was no restraint to him no doubt His mind was so well satisfi'd without He had not then that motion in him hidden To covet that most which is most forbidden And in this state that Adam might have stood He had a power to have restrain'd that good Only thou mad'st his libertie so free That he might stand or he might fall from thee But Adam loe he stood not long thus great Grac'd with a help too meet for his estate But that the divell all his force imployd To worke upon the freedome man injoy'd The Serpent Sathan Lucifer that star Which heavens had cast out in a holy war Thrown forth for ever to extend his pride At most no higher then the clouds do ride Who being downe into that chaos hurld Where out at length thou did'st create the world And having fram'd that building by thy power Plac'd man as chiefe upon its highest tower This author both of envy and deceit Admiring Adam in his matchlesse height His rancor did with boyling envy swell He rais'd his powers and stratagems of hell And joyn'd them all for a most deadly fight Against poore Adam innocent and quiet But recollecting as it were his course Of seising upon Adam so by force Perceiving Adams happinesse did lye Most in his soule which death could not destroy This deep imposter and most subtill fiend Dissembled malice and would seem a friend And sought by fair means so to take away Those pearls in Adam force could not betray He sought to Eve first but to Adam by her And tempted Adam whiles he seem'd to try her His baite he unto Eves acceptance laid But Eve consenting Adam was betray'd For Sathans fore-cast aym'd at this event That Adam would give smiling Eve content And by that means to bring them both in thrall Made one a means to make the other fall Oh! fatall means and fearfull too alas For by that means he brought his will to passe The bait he proffer'd to obtaine his suit It was no lesse then the forbidden fruit Faire to the eye and pleasing to the tast But strong and deadly poyson to digest The arguments he used to perswade Were that they thereby should like Gods be made Knowing both good and evill which was true In part for they till then no evill knew But Adam tasting by the divels art That only fruit which thou hadst set apart And told him if he tasted he should dye Though Sathan did that certaine truth deny Adam did thereby instantly become A slave to Sathan subject to thy doome And conscious of his sin and therefore said He saw his nakednesse and was afraid Afraid indeed afraid he well might be Made thus a bondslave who before was free And not alone to Sathan but to sin To his affections now defil'd within His senses yea his soule became defil'd And all the streames that issu'd thence were soyld His understanding which before was pure Became corrupted earthly and obscure His memory a nursery of store In which he treasur'd up contents before Became a tedious Register wherin His conscience did torment him for his sin His will and his affections which were just Became rebellious and disorder'd lust His heart where innocencie sat as Queen Became a cage of spirits most uncleane Yea every sence of his which were before Unto the
men must have new desires New strength new life new flames of sacred fires The Conscience wounded with sin BUt is it certain as this tenet saith Hath each man in him that hath saving faith Such a new creature as is Christ indeed Then which way shall we those same Scriptures read Christ is ascended into heaven again The heavens must hold him yet must him contain But if it be so that this new man must Abide in all men that by faith are just Oh then I feare me I am barren still Or faith is in me yet but in the shell I find some motions now and then indeed But prove but motions nothing doth proceed Oyle and wine powred in VVHere faith is Christ is it must needs be so The spring doth alwayes from the Fountain goe Christ is the Fountain faith the spring distild We with the Fountain by the spring are fild Besides the Scriptures in this case are rife Is Christ not in us we have then no life But life we know admits degrees therein So life of faith as sound or sick of sin Diseases do the strength of nature breake If sin distempers faith is sick or weake But sure so long as motion doth remain There yet is life and may be health again The Authors Epigram BVt in what nature if you aske of me Can Christ that new man in us dwelling be Sure chiefly as he is a God to guide As he is man he doth in heaven abide Yet in our natures what he did below Doth from his fountaine to our cisterns flow As he is God his presence we possesse As he is Man we doe by faith no lesse As Man he did the debt of mankinde pay As God he purchas'd man a heavenly stay But both made ours by imputation when Faith the condition he perform'd in man Our debt is paid then and our purchase bought Our Father for us nothing left unwrought Only on our part the condition runs Believe in Christ and be imputed Sons Blest imputation and condition sweet Blest creature where these Relatives do meet The conscience wounded with sin ALL saving faith yet without saving power But as it clayms Christ for a Saviour But here I sigh alas my sight is blinde Faith is a secret lyes full deep to finde Nothing but signes and its effects appear My sight may quickly be deceived here Leaves may delude though they he fresh and green Fruit hath been wanting where such leaves were seen Indeed my heart doth proffer me this bait That my endeavours are without deceit But here I tremble I am fore afraid My conscience should be by my heart betray'd Oyle and wine powred in THe heart of man unsanctifi'd t is sure Is above all deceiâ—full and impure But such a heart as doth in sin delight Awakes not conscience but would keep it quiet If then the conscience be afraid to sin Faith out of question did that fear begin The hypocrite doth all he does for shew The man sincere doth no such trumpet blow Doth sin in secret then the soule afright Doth prayer in secret give the soule delight Are all good duties in the doing sweet Then doubtlesse faith gives motion to those feet The Authors Epigram ALL holy duties then we must frequent Faith to our knowledge hath no other vent Those are the fruits of fruitfull faith then where Those fruits appear not how can faith be there Necessity is there upon us laid To us good duties faith is else betray'd We must be zealous both to heare and pray How dare some then cast blocks in such away Zealous indeed what ever else is done Is but like empty shadowes of the sun Empty indeed and when we come to try them They prove like smoake we finde no comfort by them Then in good duties we must labour still To draw some matter from them that may fill Some sweetnesse and some comfort in them finde Or else we vainly do but beat the Winde And yet we must good duties do although We yet finde nothing in the same but show Because God hath appointed them a way Through which like conduits he doth grace convay FINIS
to discern those objects as they are Which did exceed thy better sight so far Vaine man as thou thy heav'nly relish hast So vainly lost by a forbidden tast Even so thy sight when by a finit eye Thou fondly wouldst things infinite discry To stand and gaze upon the Sun although The Sun gives light yet dims our light we know And yet the beames which from the Sun do fly They dim not but give sight unto the eye So if thou look'st God as he is to see The more thou look'st the blinder thou shalt be His countenance doth such a lustre give No mortall eye may see the same and live Yet from his face as from a Sun doth shine Such radient beames and rayes of light divine As gives us light and so much as our vaine And silly Lamps can of a Sun contain Then let those rayes which in the Scripures shine Suffice thy soule that cleerest sight of thine Thou by his beames mayst view the Sun secure Thy sight can not the Sun it selfe indure Thinkst thou by power then of imperfect nature To take a perfect view of thy Creator Meere foole indeed thou mightst by reason find This cannot be were not thy reason blind But couldst thou reason never so refine Did brighter beams not with thy reason shine Thou couldst not see what once thou mightst have done Much lesse what was before the world begun Yet such like thoughts in this thy silly vaine And purblinde state doe now molest thy braine Thou but a drop which from the fountaines fell Wouldst to a fountaine in thy bubble swell Thou clim'st beyond the clouds and think'st it fit To be like God out of thy mother wit Yea beyond God and hast this thought accurst If God made all then who made God at first This being hyperbolicall to sense Thou trampl'st on inferiour consequence As Christ and heaven the soule and resurrection Because beyond thy sensible collection But thou whom night doth thus belet at noon What say'st thou to the Sun the Stars the Moon And Heavens above who made that glorious frame There is no procreation in the same They have as very heathen do declare Five thousand yeares remain'd the same they are Their like they in no likenesse have begot Like other creatures they ingender not Whence thou by sense maist evidently read They from themselves did never first proceed Yet made they be 't is manifest and cleer Those objects to thy very sense appear Then see the weaknesse of thy sense hereby And yet thy sense thy weaknesse doth discry Thou seest by sense the body of the Sunne But whence proceeding there thy sense hath done Thou seest by sense such bodies formed be But by themselves doth not with sense agree This to thy sense some others skill doth preach Thou find'st by sense that skill above thy reach Canst thou by sense and carnall reason then Thus prove a power beyond the power of men And cannot that same power of thee be thought A God observing what that power hath wrought Oh Sathans captive labour to resist That this worlds God who thus hath cast a mist Breake through those clouds and view a God above Thou dost by sense a deity approve View him thou maist in manifold respects Partly be sense in part by his effects And then observe what holy Scripture saith And view him further by the eye of faith For these are they and only these whereby That sun doth please to shine down from on high These are the casements set ope to our sight Of heavens most glorious treasury of light We men below have no such licence given Or pow'r to take a perfect view of heaven Our light so feeble and our hearts so brasing We can but only pry in through the glasing But here perhaps thou wilt this scruple move Admit saist thou there be a heaven above And in the same such glories as are said Though never yet to mortall eye displaid What though there be what canst thou gain thereby Since they are such as thou canst not discry Nor yet hast hope thou ever shalt do here Thou must goe further from them not more near Death must of all men living make an end And men by dying rise not but descend The grave at last shall be thy resting plot Where all things are concluded and forgot Why shouldst thou then disquiet thy selfe to gain Such knowledge as will but disquiet thy braine But carnall scholar who dost thus confute Thy very sense by sensuall dispute And as it were in malice go'st about To bring the very truth thou know'st in doubt Canst thou grosse Sadduce thus seduced be Be yet thus blinded yet hast eyes to see Art thou in honour and becom'st a beast O like the beast that perisheth at least Consider better labour to dispell Those fearfull â—â—â—â—â—s they are the fogs of hell And thither thou must sinke no means can save Beleev'st not thou the rising from the grave But thou shalt rise thou canst not that defend Though but to judgement and againe descend This thou might'st prove by Scripture most apparant Could'st thou give credence to that heav'nly warrant But howsoever thou dost under prise The powerfull truth in sacred Scripture lies Yet God disputing with the divell took His arguments out of that sacred Book He did by Scripture Sadduces confute He did by Scripture strike the divell mute He did by Scripture first reveale his will And doth by Scripture manifest it still And if thou only Scripture dost disdain Doubtlesse there doth no hope for thee remain God could have us'd some other weapon then To overthrow the divell and those men But yet he pleas'd to use no other sword Only to make us trust unto his word Shall God himself thus dignifie and grace it And shalt thou dust and ashes then deface it Oh trust it further and esteem it better The power of God is printed in that letter Againe besides the testimonies read In Scripture for the rising of the dead God doth convince thy error in this kinde By sundry means yea in thy very minde God hath imprinted in thy very breast Within thy soule which ever shall subsist An everlasting principall of right Which can by no meanes be extinguish'd quite This principall is naturally strong In aiding justice and suppressing wrong From whence it comes thou canst not act a sin Of doing wrong without a check within Hast thou done wrong then as who hath not here Get'st thou not pardon for the same 't is clear This principall when thou shalt come to dye Will leave thy corps and on thy conscience flye Where it for ever restlesse will abide Till justice shall be fully satisfi'd From whence there must some other place appeare To right such wrongs as are not righted here Besides thou couldst not sure account it vaine To be resolv'd the dead shall rise again Hadst thou but so much happinesse to see How reason here with nature doth agree Search then by reason
wilt be still a heathen swine Yet know God will be knowne of thee infine If here thou wilt not know him by his works A sin abominated by the Turks If here thou wilt to know him by that spark Now rak'd up in thy conscience yet his marke Nor yet wilt know him by the eye of faith Beleeving what the holy Scripture saith But dost this cloud of witnesses repell Yet God will make thee know him though in hell Yea more then know for thou shalt feel him there And in that den his Deity declare When divells shall torment thee as their owne Because thou here wouldst have no God-head known Thus I have walk'd in an unwonted strain Which some it may be will account as vaine As if I heare by some what went about To bring a truth most manifest in doubt Who is so grosse may some perhaps reply To make a question of the Deity If there be none why should I now begin To make a doubt where none before hath bin Indeed with us where so much light doth shine As if directly underneath the line With us where God so perfectly appears And as it were hath dwelt so many years If there should harbour any here so blinde So dead in sense and stupifi'd in minde As once to harbour Atheisme in thought Therein most hideous treachery were wrought Yet sith we finde that Scripture doth impart Which only can anatomize the heart That such a thought in some hath harbour'd been Yea all men are by nature so unclean Each heart by nature is deceitfull still And every thought continually ill We doubtlesse may though to our shame conclude That Atheisme is in a multitude Especially if duly we propound How meerly naturall multitudes are found Againe besides our nature which hath stood Since Adams fall an enemy to good We have another enemy as great Who hinders good with a more deadly hate The divell that arch enemy indeed To God himselfe to Adam and his seed He seeks by his inscrutible an art To steal no lesse then God out of the heart And to that purpose night and day doth spend Suggesting doubts and questions to that end By which with man he doth too much prevaile Else why did David in that nature faile Who was a man most dear to God we finde And yet the divell trap'd him in that kinde When he did almost in his thoughts complain As if that he had wish'd his hands in vain From whence it must by consequence arise God for the time was taken from his eyes Then if such lofty cedars may be shaken How may the shrubs be in that nature taken Poore creatures who have neither care nor skill To frustrate Sathans working of his will Such fiery darts the divell dayly throwes And at our hearts he doth direct his blowes And I for my part cannot testifie That any living scape them as they fly Only as aged Jesses youngest son For safety did to sanctuary run Where he beheld the wound was hid before And eke got balme to heale his bleeding sore So when we doe the tempters dart discry We may like David to the Temple fly To reading hearing meditate and pray Such fumes as those will drive the fiend away Or as old Jacobs children in distresse When bit with serpents in the wildernesse By only looking on a serpents wing Expel'd the poyson of that bite or sting Even so when Sathan that old serpent stings We may have healing underneath those wings Which Jacobs children in figure view'd To us a Christ in their similitude Thus as the divell daily doth belay To steal our goods to steal our God away God that we should by no means let him go Hath left us means to circumvent that foe And hence proceeds that combate in our breasts The flesh consenting but the soule resists But when the soule submits to carnall sense The divell then gets the preheminence And thou within whose bosome no such strife Or combate hath incumbered thy life The divell sure hath favour'd thee therein Or thou too much infatuated bin But thou that feelst no want at all of aid Thou gavst him here a Paradise indeed But thou wilt give him heaven which doth exceed Yet doe not count this altogether vaine Ther 's no such drosse but may afford some graine The troubl'd soule counts no occasion slight That may assist when it is thus in fight What thou think'st bane may be anothers meat Then what thou like'st not let another eat Though these be hearbs nay weeds out of the wood Yet hearbs nay weeds for many things are good I trust no Colloquintida is here No danger if thy stomack then be clear Lord what is man that thou art so mindfull of him Psal. 8. vers. 4. Desires of Aid MOst Gracious God as then hast lent thy hand To move my heart and to direct my pen In some weake measure thus to understand And make thee understood of other men God only wise almighty pure eternall Without whose mercy man must be infernall So let thy hand Lord be outstretched still To stir my heart that most polluted spring That in that fountaine I may dip my quill And from that depth such secret matter bring As to my selfe may make my selfe appeare That I may seek to make that fountaine clear And as we all doe to our comfort finde That thou of man hast ever mindfull been So let my lines be moving in some kinde That we again may not forget thee then But may for ever as it is our parts Inthrone thee in the centre of our hearts LOrd what is man may well be ask'd of thee None but thine eye can that exactly see Thou gav'st him life when thou hadst given him fashion Thou only therefore canst resolve that question Man peradventure like a butcher may Unmake those walls which thou hast made of clay Rip up mans body open every part Take out his entrails looke into his heart Note every artrie conduit pipe and veine And pâ—y into the Chamber of the brain Tell all his sinewes crushes bones and finde How every member is to other joyn'd Let this be granted as perhaps it may In some imperfect superfices way Yet what can man in this description read Of what man in perfection was indeed Alas in this man doth indeed no more Then as it were unlock the little doore Of some rich cabinet which being done Doth finde it empty all its jewels gone Where being frustate of his Chiefe desire Finds nothing left but only to admire The curious art about that little frame With lively forms yet pictures on the same Even so mans body that same heav'ns device Wherein are lock'd up all our gemmes of price When cruell death once turnes his key about Unlocks the doore and lets those jewels out Mans body straight becomes a trunke bereft Of all its matchlesse treasure empty left And nothing to the searchers eye remains To satisfie his curious eye or pains But only to admire the
Palace of his soule a doore To keep in vertue and to shut out sin Were then set ope to let that traytor in Which traytor enter'd struck with sin as dead The whole man from the feet unto the head Who to thy foe thus being brought in thrall Lost both thy image and himselfe withall Nay yet lost more for by this cursed deed Losing himselfe he lost his wretched seed He lost thy image lost thy love thy grace He lost himselfe his happinesse and race Oh fearfull losse and eke oh fearfull gain Thou wert depos'd thy enemy did raigne Thy image lost the divell put on his Heaven was exchang'd for hels most deep abysse Lord what a heavy hidious change was here Lord how did man then in thy sight appear Lord with what patience couldst thou then abide To see the divell so in triumph ride Or Lord what pity in thy bowels boyl'd To see poore Adam so for ever foyl'd To see poore Adam thus undone by theft Thus of his jewells of thy grace bereft Cast out by thee of Paradise below And left unto the malice of his foe Nay foes indeed and a most potent troup The creatures all who were ordain'd to stoup At Adams beck now in rebellion rose The elements they all became his foes Which were his friends and all at peace before The winds to rage the sea began to roare The fire to burn and which of all is worst The earth for his offence became accurst Oh! Adam Adam though we may refuse As we are sons our father to accuse Yet being wounded by thy deadly blow We cannot but lament thy overthrow Hadst thou in tryall nor been over come Though we thy seed who should succeed thy room Had fallen our fall it had been small to thine Thy fall as head hath tainted all thy line Thou art our Head and we thy members be Thou art condemned how can we be free Had but a member only fault bin A member only should have dy'd therein But through the one death raigned over all Death by thy death brought all to death in thrall Death temporall that no mortall shall divert Death too eternall is our due desert Lord most immense in mercy yet so pure Thy sight can no polluted thing indure How could thy mercy and thy justice meet In viewing Adam thus from off his feet But how can we thy mysteries discusse Whose wayes are so past finding out by us Thou in thy wisdome it is so divine Couldst make thy mercy through thy justice shine When thou whose wayes cannot be understood Saw'st Adam thus polluted in his blood As Lord thy justice did his sentence give Of death thy mercy said unto him live Sure 't was the time of love when thou pass'd by For Adam only had deserv'd to dye That justice did injoyne but live again Thy mercy only did that musicke strain Oh! heavenly musick harmony most blest Thus peace and justice truth and mercy kist Justice by death thus satisfi'd in striving Mercy againe thus answer'd by reviving But Adams soule did first to sin consent His body guilty as an instrument Could then the death of Adams body serve When Adams soule did greatest death deserve No no alas that cannot serve the turne Although the body should for ever burne In flames of hell it could not satisfie Thou hast pronounc'd the soule that sins shall dye Most gracious God and great beyond conceit How could poore Adam beare this heavy weight Poore feeble fearfull faint and bending reed Support a burden infinite indeed Here was indeed the depth of miseries Adam must dye but death would not suffice His fact so foule and infinite had bin Death temp'rall could not expiate his sin Justice must yet be satisfi'd by dying Death temp'rall it could not be satisfying Adam must therefore suffer death eternall Or rather live a death which is infernall Lord thus we finde and make confession must Thy wayes are right our condemnation just We thus behold thy streams of justice flowing Most justly to our utter overthrowing But though thy justice seem'd to goe before Yet thou hadst mercy treasur'd up in store To free those slaves that Adam brought in thrall That so thou might'st have mercy upon all Well may we say love in thy bosome burn'd And bowells in thee of compassion yern'd How like a deare and most indulgent father Or like a melting hearted mother rather Who when her infant hath receiv'd some harmes Then most bemoanes it in her tender armes Even so thy goodnes did thy love bewray In that thy mercy could not brook delay But in the instant whiles the wound did bleed Prescrib'd a plaister for the wounded seed And mov'd with fury against Adams foe Who like a serpent had betray'd him so Not only for the present curs'd him for 't But thence for ever made his chaine more short And told that Serpent that the womans seed Which he had so much shaken in that reed That it should unto such a Cedar grow As should infine his Kingdome overthrow Oh! pretious promise drop'd from thine own pen Peace upon earth and good will unto men Both oyle and wine to heale the wounded man Drawn from that wounded good Samaritan Oh pretious promise by which Adams wife Late of his death becomes his means of life Oh pretious promise and for ever sweet By which divided heaven and earth did meet But Lord what seed what heavenly seed was this Whose promise only could afford such blisse Seed heavenly yea seed wonderfull indeed On which our fathers many years did feed To life yea unto life eternall while This seed it seem'd was buried in the soyle But when this promise should become fulfil'd Lord what a harvest must this seed then yeeld But when this seed converteth into bread It must give life sure to the very dead This did exceed the Manna which was given This was the bread that did come down from heaven The bread of God yea very God indeed Thy selfe oh Lord was promis'd in this seed A bread ordain'd before the world began To save the world to give new life to man And when the fulnesse of the time expir'd Thou did'st fulfill what man had long desir'd Mad'st that appear in substance to be true Which was before but shadow'd to the view But oh thou wonder-working God above Whose justice thus but amplifies thy love Who but thy selfe could have by searching pry'd How mercy could have justice satisfi'd But who but thee could ever have been brought To work a wonder as this worke was wrought That thou whose justice did mans sentence give Shouldst in thy mercy die that man might live And yet we do unto our comfort find Thou in thy mercy wert to man thus kind Rather then mankind should for ever lie In chaines of death the God of life would die But gratious God how can this granted be Thou art a spirit form corruption free The fountain too of life it selfe how then Canst thou be said to dye