address their Cry On tender Mercies still by Faith rely To them that trust him shall be Mercy shewn Although in Deeps at present they are thrown For he attends unto the humble Pray'r Of those that to the Throne of Grace repair And though amazing Terrors may invade They shall be sure to meet with timely Aid And he that thinks it fit they should be try'd When done their Feet in Paths of Joy will guid That so with Songs of Praise they may advance His Name that shines with helping Countenance And hast thou now my Soul true Comfort found And with Salvations are thy Temples crown'd Improve the Peace thou hast obtain'd at length The Joy of God is sent to be thy Strength That thou may'st lively walk unto his praise Who doth revive thy Soul with quickning Rays The outward Man under Weariness and Fears of not holding out reliev'd by the Soul Soul Body Bo. WHat need is there dear Soul of so much haste Let 's take more time I cannot move so fast So. Our Christian Life's a Race and must be run With active speed until the Prize be won Bo. Is there no smoother Path that may be found Then this same rough uneven stony Ground That so our lab'ring Feet relieved may With greater ease run the remaining way So. No no my dear associate Wisdom hath Set this before us as our fittest Path It 's onely they which lawfully do strive That shall with Conquest at the Goal arrive Then let 's with Patience run and vigorous force Press forward till we finish up our course These Agonists that strove in Graecian Games Once celebrated on Olympick Plains That from Elaean Judges sought Applause How strictly kept they to Her culean Laws The Runners with their nimble Feet did hold The bounded Tract to the appointed Goal With strained Limbs how did they forward thrust Vnto the long'd for Mark in Clouds of dust And with contending Strife did agonize To crown their Brows with the desired Prize Which being won the Cities with Renown Receiv'd their Victors through their Walls thrown down As if it were inferior to their Sate To make the Entrance at the common Gate If they with strech'd out Limbs did strive to come Encircled with a fading Garland home And thought it worth their pains for sading Breath To trumpet forth their Glory here on Earth How strictly then should we with flying pace Press forward daily in our Christian Race Where Saints and Angels our Spectators are And the great Judge sits in Tribunal Chair For to reward the Victors in this Strife With an immortal glorious Crown of Life Who in the Records of Eternal Fame Shall always have an everlasting Name Bo. Those Souls are blest indeed that win the Prize Whose Conquest Saints and Angels solemnize That enter Heav'n with triumphant shout But as for me I fear I shan't hold out So. Fear not but view that great encircling Cloud Of Worthies that with Acclamations loud And vailed Crowns ascribe unto free Grace Their strength to run and conquer in this Race But above all behold with fixed Eye Our great Fore-runner Thron'd and Crown'd on high Who to the Faint gives power to hold on Increaseth Strength to them whose Might is gon It 's he by whom the Work of Faith 's begun It 's he upholds it till the Race be run Come then press on thy Feet are drawing nigh Unto the Borders of Eternity Put forth thy utmost Might stretch out thy hand The Goal's in sight the Crown doth ready stand The Souls Meditation upon Eternity Soul So. LOng Age of Ages how long to demand Makes pos'd Arithmetick in silence stand To reckon up its date she is not able Wants places in her Numeration Table Could we together in one sum amass The Stars of Heav'n and the Piles of Grass The numerous Sands that on the Sea-shore lie The Minute Atomes in the World that fly The Drops of Rain and Fleeces of the Snow The Grains of Corn that ever yet did grow The Leaves that Autumn from the Trees hath cast The thoughts that through the Heart of Man have past This would not make a Measure for to stretch Unto its end or yet its middle retch Duration not divided by what 's past Or yet to come but still the same doth last Eternal NOW that always doth remain Wheeling about to the same point again A Circle without Radius that doth run Into it self beginning not begun Immensurable by the longest Line That can be stretched out by aged Time Could we a Line of Figures lengthen out Enough to gird the highest Sphere about And the last number to be reck'ned there Stood for the Vnites place of Plato's year Yet all those Millions would not rise to be The smallest Fraction in Eternity Oh number numberless unto whose store Addition is not able to add more Oh endless ever where we must confess Subtraction cannot make it one jot less Oh bitter Sin Oh dear bought Lust For which the Soul Eternally is thrust From the Supream and Vniversal Good Into the Torrent of the Sulphurous Flood Depart from me a Sentence full as Dire As go you Curst into Eternal Fire If when the Body with the Soul doth part Such Mortal Pangs and Gripes do seize the Heart Who can conceive the Souls convulsive Strife In its seclusion from the Spring of Life A loss that doth in one all Loss express Full Separation from all Happiness Besides this Loss cast into burning Deeps Where Terror reigns and Sorrow never sleeps That without ease or respit undergo The constant Rackings of eternal Woe Vessels of dreadful Wrath prepared wide To hold full measure swallow'd up beside Plunged in Gulphs of Sulphurous Whirl-pools bound Sinking in Horrour where no Bottom's found Perpetually with bitter Anguish tost For mispent Time and golden Seasons lost Whose Songs are turn'd to Scritches and their Mirth Into the Pangs of everlasting Death Where damned Souls can neither fain or fear Greater or worser Torments than they bear Oh wretched Souls that in dire Flames must dwell Longer than Words can utter Numbers tell That ev'ry moment whil'st in liquid Fire They burning are think this must ne'r expire That do fetch in unto each moments pain That EVER which in it they must remain And add unto their present Misery The endless Torments of Eternity Oh blessed be those Souls that through rich Grace Are ransom'd from this ever dreadful place In whom Eternal Life is here begun Running through this into the World to come Death changeth not our State but the Degree Grace here begun in Heav'n shall perfect be Where weary Saints enjoy their long'd for rest And hungry Souls on choicest Dainties feast Where Shields and Swords are turn'd to Harps and Palms And Sighs and Sobs to blessed Hyms and Psalms Where Saints with Angels in sweet comfort sing With well tun'd Lyres the Praises of their King And there behold that Beatifick Sight That fills their Souls with unconceiv'd Delight Viewing the
makes affraid Or gives disturbance to his peaceful shade Swords beat in Plow-shares dig the fertile Earth Spears turn'd to Cickles reap its fruitful Birth Like Eden's Garden doth the barren Field Great heaps of Plenty to the Dresser yield The Desarts now with streams of Water flow The stately Pine and Fir-tree in it grow The Mirtle Box and Oil-tree here abides And lofty Cedars raise their Pyramides The Wilderness with fruitful Crop is spred Like Sharon where King Davids Cattle fed The Forest and the solitary Land Cloathed with Carmel's Glory joyful stand The Hill of Zion with exalted head On top of Mountains stands established No Thorn or Brier in her Path doth grow All Nations to her Worship freely flow The ransom'd of the Lord that her surround With Wreaths of everlasting Joy are crown'd Sorrow and sighing now shall fly away And Songs of Triumph celebrate this day God with Defence will all her Glory bless The Man of this World shall no more oppress The Earth with knowledge of the Lord is spred Like the great Sea with Waters covered Now Holiness extends her glorious Rays And Grace fills up the Duties of these days The Sons of Zion shine with Sanctity Fill'd by the Spirit poured from on high The Restitution of all things is come The trav'ling pains of the Creations done Now Saints enjoy their glorious Liberty And groaning Creatures are from Bondage free The Heav'ns and Earth new Robes of Glory wear The Creatures all in Eden's dress appeer And Righteousness throughout the World will Reign So long as Sun shall shine or Moon shall wain Nuncius Nun. SAtan inraged by his overthrows With new Attemps assaults his conqu'ring Foes And now by flatt'ring Wiles he doth pursue That which he saw by frowns he could not do His deadly Hook under gilt Baits now lies As that most likely to obtain his Prize Just like the Panther that his Prey would win Conceals his Head and shews his spotted Skin That whilst his Gawdy Colours do invite His grisly Visage may not put to flight So Satan hopes by offers large he may To hidden jaws of Death allure his Prey But all in vain by Wisdom from on high They see where ruin lurks and from it fly A Brief account of the intermixture of Providences in our Pilgrimage Soul Body Bo. COme my dear Soul Aurora hangs the Skies With Arras bright against the Sun doth rise The Eastern Hills with welcome day are spread Phaebus makes haste to raise his Orient head Dark Clouds are fled and left the Heav'ns fair Our way is pleasant and the perfum'd Air. With various sweets breath'd from the flowry Spring Doth gently fan with Odoriferous Wing The cheerful Birds upon green Branches raise Melodious Notes and warble forth sweet Lays Like the alternate seasons of the year So is our Life and Way whil'st Pilgrims here We have our Winter and our gloomy Days And then our Summer with bright chearing Rays Sometimes strong Flaws at other times sweet Gales Sometimes dark Clouds then lucid intervales It 's good it should be thus that so we may Not faint whil'st here nor yet delight to stay Winds purge the Air dark Clouds are not in vain But spend themselves in fructifying rain Sharp Frosts do mellow and prepare the ground To bear that Fruit with which the year is crown'd The Spring brings forth what Winters Bosom kept And Summer ripens what in Autumn's reapt Our changes here if rightly understood Are ord'red forth in Wisdom for our good So. I 'm glad dear Self you have so true a sense Of that which God in Wisdom doth dispence Let 's then improve our time the Winter 's gone The Spring is come let 's cheerfully go on Fair Days and pleasant Ways should mend our Pace And quicken forward in our Heav'nly Race Bo. But who are these dear Soul whose nimble Feet Make towards us as if they would us greet Temptations arising from Pleasure Honour Riches Soul Body Pleasure Honour Riches Plea A Merry day we wish you why so fast Come joyn with us and take your sweet repast The Season and the flow'ry-mantled Earth Invite to take some recreative Mirth So. We wish you well but must improve our day Our Pleasure lies in keeping on our way We Pilgrims are in waste we must not spend That time should help us to our Journeys end Plea What mean you thus to take this course severe And tie your selves unto such rules austere In curious Gardens stor'd with choicest Flow'rs Go take your Walks and rest in shady Bow'rs Of Jessemine and Honey-suckle sweet Where Philomel the youthful Spring doth greet There hear the feather'd Minstrels caroling With chanting Notes teaching their Young to sing In heat of day procure refreshing sleep In flowry shades where purling drils do creep Go take what pleasure either Streams or Field Mountains or Dales Meadows or Heaths do yield With pleasing Objects feast your careful Eyes Your weary limbs refresh with exercise Look how the silver Swan in all her Pride With arched Neck through Chrystal Streams doth slide And to the Ozier'd Island flotes in State To hatch her Young and to relieve her Mate See how the wary Trout that deep did lie Springs up to catch the Artificial Fly The greedy Pike darts to the trouling Bait And being struck flies when it is too late The nimble Hawk no sooner spies his Prey But to the Clouds doth take his tow'ring way And with high Airy Plumes hastens to fling The trembling Fowl down from his mounted Wing Twice doth the doubling Hare trace the same Grounds Thrice leaps to cast off the pursuing Hounds The eager Dogs the lost Sent having found Open and make the neighbouring Woods resound But if these rural Pleasures don't invite Repair unto the City for delight With Masques and Plays and Triumphs please your Eyes From Feasts and flowing Cups let Mirth arise With Musick 's sweetest Airs your Paces measure And gratifie all Senses with full pleasure So. Forbear vain trifl'ing Youth that only feels Delight in that which sensual pleasure yields Poor empty Joys that in such ways are had Mouths fill'd with Laughter whil'st the Heart is sad Vain Mirth where Sadness fained smiles doth bring And Sorrow 's forc'd against her will to sing Not only vain but vexing such as first Makes shows to quench but yet increaseth thirst Like the Sea-Water that at present wets Whil'st drinking down but then inflames and frets Poor bitter Sweets Pleasure that with it brings A little Honey arm'd with many Stings Short at the best as by experience found How many chant unto the pleasant sound Of Harp and Organ and sweet Lessons sing Vnto the well-tun'd Viols quav'ring string Who in slight Mirth their flying days do spend And in a moment down to Hell descend Should the condemned Man whose time is short To get his Pardon spend that time in sport Yet many such poor cheated Souls there be That play away their opportunity Or should those Souls
changes here To keep our Souls in reverential fear He sees how ready now we are to set A higher value on our selves than 's fit How apt we are under bright Beams to slight Those tempted Souls which want that blessed Sight And therefore hides his Face and thereby shows That we should friendly sympathize with those It may be those sweet Joys by Vision brought Thou dost not truly rate them as they ought And now the Price hereof he will inhance And teach thee how to value ev'ry glance It may be God is pleas'd to try thy Grace And therefore for a time with-draws his Face To see if Faith and hope will follow on In Paths of Life when Sense and Feeling's gon And whether thou when Comforts are away Wilt out of Love unto himself obey But were it only from his Soveraign Will What cause is there in Silence to sit still Those Joys in Heav'n he 'll give thee at the last Will make amends for all thy Sorrow past But yet dear Soul remember ev'ry Word That may support unto thy Faith afford Consider Light is for the Righteous sown Joy for the upright is in furrows thrown And though it buried lies there for a Night Yet will it spring up by the Morning Light Keep then thy Feet and Faith in Wisdom's ways And give not up thy Hopes in cloudy days But wait on him that sometimes hides his Face From the beloved Seed of Jacob's Race So. Dear Friend I will consider what you say Your solid Words in serious Ballance weigh Nuncius Nun. THe wakeful Tempter always on his watch Thinks this a likely time his Prey to catch And as assaulting Forces where they spy The weakest place there plant their Battery So Satan swell'd with hope and fill'd with rage Against the Soul where weakest doth engage But still supporting Grace defeats his pow'r And yields assistance in a needful hour The Soul Conflicting with the Assaults of Satan Satan Soul Sat. POor weary Soul lay by thy lab'ring Oar And run thy Vessel on the quiet shore Go take thy Rest upon this pleasant Coast Thou dost but toil in vain thy Labours lost So. It would be lost if I should take up short As thou would'st have of my desired Port. No here I am resolv'd my Course to steer And if I perish I will perish here Sat. In vain thou hop'st this Tempest to out-ride And make thy way both against Wind and Tide Seest thou how sin and suff rings on thee role Like mighty Waves ready to sink thy Soul How one great Deep doth to another call Whil'st Water Spouts with dreadful Noise do fall So. It 's no vain hope for he that doth command To follow him will help with his right hand That Sins too many are too strong it 's true But not for Grace to pardon or subdue And though it be a black and stormy day I 'll wait on him whom Winds and Seas obey Sat. And wilt thou still to him for help repair That hides his Face and shutteth out thy Pray'r Who over Heav'n gloomy Clouds hath spread That neither Sun or Stars may Brightness shed Who in his Anger cruel Bow hath bent And poison'd Arrows in thy Bosom sent And on thy-Neck hath bound thy sinful Yoke And all thy Bones i' th' place of Dragons broke Will Men for Shelter to a Lyon fly Or wait for Mercy from an Enemy So. Thou art that roaring Lyon that dost watch With hungry Jaws the simple Soul to catch The Enemy of God and all Mankind Taking unwearied Steps thy Prey to find And having sound and drawn into thy pow'r Mak'st it thy greatest pleasure to devour But with the Lord Compassions do abound The poor and needy this have always found Imbarked Jonah from Gods Presence fled A dreadful Storm from God strait followed In vain the Seamen toil with lab'ring hand To bring their beaten Vessel to the Land All that they do can no relief afford Vntil their guilty Fare's cast over-board A Whale doth strait-way seize him for her Prey And to the Roots of Mountains roles away Great Deeps his Soul do round about inclose Incensed Floods and Waves upon him flows In sighs his fainting Soul deep sorrow breath'd Whil'st Reeds about his mournful Head are wreathd Three days imbar'd in Jaws of Death he lies Yet unto God he looks for favour cries God hears and pities gives the Fish command The Whale makes haste to set him on dry Land Thus God is ready to extend his Grace Vnto poor Souls that seeks his blessed Face And when he doth his own rebuke for sin It 's that he may their Souls to Mercy win To pensive ones that do confess their Error He 'll be a Tower though now he seems a Terror That hand that wounds his own that strikes so hard That hand will bind them up that hand will guard And self-abasing Souls shall quickly know He 'll be their Friend that seems to be their Foe If not in God then where can help be found That hand can only cure that did me wound Vnto those Arms of Mercy I will haste And on free Grace my Soul for ever cast Sat. How God deals sometimes with his own what 's this To the Presumptuous Soul th' art none of his Nor is he thine do not thy self deceive His Arms will not the Hypocrite receive So. Should it be so proud Tempter it 's high time To hasten to him that he may be mine To cry to God who ready is to hear To make my Heart upright my Soul sincere To drive me to him God hath sent his Rod It 's good for me then to draw near to God Contemplations suited to the Soul that hath found Morning Comforts after a Night of sad Desertion and sore Troubles Soul So. FRom the dark Vale where Death enthron'd doth sit From the great Deep and from the dreadful Pit From Caves that lodge the free among the dead From lowest Dungeon where no Light is shed From wand'ring Maze where the umbrageous Wood Is rang'd by hungry Lions for their Food My Soul is brought preserv'd from threat'ning harm To sing the Praises of his glorious Arm. When on my Soul the mighty Waters prest When breaking Clouds with thunder-claps distrest When over-whelming Terrors on me roll'd And Pains of Hell upon my Soul took hold He from deep Floods my trembling Soul did catch From yielding Mud my sinking Feet did snatch From Thunder Spouts my strugling Head did shield And from Hells Terrors timely help did yield His quick'ning Favour did revive and save My fainting Soul from the devouring Grave And he whose Mercies always do endure Vpon a high Rock did my Feet secure It 's he that Ashes into Beauty turns Anoints with Oyl of Joy the Soul that mourns That doth the Needy from the Dunghil raise And Cloaths the Pensive with the Robes of Praise He with White Garments doth the sad adorn And turns the shades of Death into the Morn Let weary Souls to him