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death_n eternal_a sin_n wage_n 12,499 5 11.2125 5 true
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ID Title Author Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication) STC Words Pages
A32308 Divine passions piously and pathetically expressed in three severall bookes / written and composed for private consolation ... by Edward Calver. Calver, Edward, fl. 1649. 1643 (1643) Wing C313; ESTC R28545 68,451 138

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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
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