life more fatal day Than that which took th' Aegyptian Males away No more be numbred in the Calender But in thy place let a large blot appear Or if thou must thy annual station keep Let each hour thunder and each minute weep Let as on Cain some mark be fix'd on Thee That giving life didst worse than murder me Now Friends I find your fatal Aug'ry true My woes each other like my hours pursue Hence the large sources of my tears arise And no dry minute wipes my flowing eyes No sooner had I left my childish plays The harmless pastimes of my happy days Now past a child yet still in Judgment so I study'd first what I was not to know And my first grief was to lament my fate And yet 't was seldom I had time for that My stubborn Soul a long resistance made Impatient thus by Nature to be sway'd Oft' strove to Heav'n to raise its lofty flight As oft' supprest by its gross body's weight But what it cou'd not reach its eyes pursue Then it cry'd Ah God! then shed a briny dew Twice more it wou'd repeat the pleasing noise But struggling sighs restrain'd th'impris'n'd voice Such sure were felt in Babels Monarch's breast When of his Throne and Nature dispossest But conquer'd patience yields at last to grief And thus I vent my wo and beg relief Blest Author of my life hear my complaint And free this captive from its loath'd restraint Speak but the word thy Servant shall be free Thou mad'st me thus o thus unbody me Or if thou wilt not this relief afford Grant some kind Poyson or some friendly Sword Dying I 'll hug the Author of my Death And beg his pardon with my-latest breath But to save man the guilt send some Disease Death in the most afrighting shape will please Were I to act Perillus scorching Scene I shou'd rejoyce to hear my self complain Oh Heav'n my patience is o'recome by grief Is there above no succour no relief The mercy Death is all I thee implore Lord grant it soon lest I blaspheme thy pow'r When for dispatch tormented wretches pray No cruelty's so barbarous as delay Why am I to this noisom carcase ty'd Whose stench is death in all its ghastly pride Then speak the word and I shall soon be free Thou form'dst me thus o thus unbody me Amb. in Psal 118. How does that Soul live that is inclosed in a covering of death I am in a straight between two having a desire to be dissolved and to be with Christ. Philip. 1. 23. IX â— am in a straight between two having a desire to be dissolved and to be with Christ Philip. 1. 23. HOw shall I do to fix my doubtful love Shall I remain below or soar above â—ere Earth detains me and retards my flight â—here Heav'n invites me to sublime delight â—â—av'n calls aloud and bids me haste away â—hile Earth allures and gently whispers stay â—ut hence thou sly Inchantress of my heart â—l break thy fetters and despise thy art â—aste haste kind Fate unlock my Prison door â—ere I releas'd how I aloft wou'd soar â—ee Lord my struggling arms tow'rds Thee are sent â—nd strive to grasp thee in their wide extent â—â— had I pow'r to mount above the Pole â—â— kiss the Centre of my longing Soul But thou above derid'st my weak designs And still opposest what thy word injoyns Vainly I beg what thou dost still deny And stretch my hands toreach what 's plac'd too high Oft' to my self false Joys of Thee I feign And think thou kindly com'st to break my Chain Now now I cry my Soul shall soar above But this alas was all dissembled love Sure this belief some pity might obtain Thou shou'dst at least for this have broke my Chain But if I 'm still confin'd my wings I 'll try And if I fail in high attempts I die But see He comes and as he glides along He beckons me and seems to say come on I 'll rise and flie into his lov'd embrace And snatch a kiss a thousand from his face Now now he 's near his sacred Robe I touch And I shall grasp him at the next approach But he alas has mock'd my vain design And fled these arms these slighted arms of mine For tho the distance ne're so little be It seems th' Extremes of the vast Globe to me Thus does my Love my longing tantalize And bids me follow while too fast he flies Thus sportive Love delights in little cheats Which oft' are punish'd with severe deceits The World has an Original in me To paint deluded Lovers misery And he who has his easie Fair betray'd Finds all his falshood with large Int'rest paid I ne're suspected thou cou'dst faithless be But sad experience has instructed me As a chain'd Mastiff begging to be loose With restless howlings fills the deafned house But if deny'd his teeth the Chain engage And vent on that their inoffensive rage So I complain petition to be freed And humbly prostrate beg the help I need But when you frown and my request deny Deaf as the Rocks to my repeated cry Then I against my hated Clog exclaim And on my Chain lay all the guilty blame Thus grief pretends by giving passion vent To ease the pain of my Imprisonment But I unjustly blame my Chain alone And spare the cruel hand that ty'd it on Well might the barb'rous load of Chains I bear Become a Renegado slave to wear But why this harsh ill usage Love to me Whose whole endeavour is to come to Thee But when my Soul attempts a lofty flight T is still supprest by a gross bodies weight So fare young Birds by Nature wing'd in vain Whom sportful Boys with scanty twines restrain When eager to retrieve their native air They rise a little height and flutter there But having to their utmost limits flown The more they strive to mount they fall the faste dowâ— Each tho it sleeps in its young Tyrants breast And is with Banquets from his lips carest Yet prizes more the freedom of the Wood Than all the Dainties of its dear-bought food Could tears dissolve my Chains O with what ease â—'d weep a Deluge for a quick release But tears are vain reach Lord thy hands to me And in return I 'll streach my Chains to thee Thou canst unty these stubborn bands alone Oh! do thou take them off because thou putst them on Chrysost hom 55. ad pop Antioch How long shall we be fastned here we stick to the Earth as if we should always live there we wallow in the mire God gave us bodies of earth that we should carry them to Heaven not that we should by them debase our Souls to the Earth Bring my Soul out of prison that I may praise thy name Psal. 142. 9. X. Bring my Soul out of prison that I may praise thy name Psal 142. 9. I Who did once thro th'airs wide Regions rove Free Denizon of the vast Realm above Now to a
delight is wanting on this Coast Ha! Said I no delight was wanting here Yes you want All alas you want my Dear Farewell you Stars and you bright Forms adieu My bus'ness here was with my Love not you There 's nothing good below without my Love Nor any thing worth a faint Wish above One World subdu'd the Conqu'ror did deplore That niggard Fate had not allow'd him more My vaster thoughts a thousand Worlds despise Nor lose one wish on such a worthless prize Not all the Universe from Pole to Pole Heav'n Earth and Sea can fill my boundless Soul What neither Earths wide limits can contain Nor the large Empire of the spreading Main Nor Heav'n whose vaster Globe does both inclose â—hat's the sole Object my ambition knows â—ill now alas my Soul at shadows caught â—nd always was deceiv'd in what it sought â—hou Lord alone art Heav'n Earth Sea to me â—hou Lord art All all nothing without Thee Aug. Solil cap. 20. â—hatever is contained within the compass of Heaven is beneath the Soul of Man which was made to enjoy the chiefest Good above in whose possession alone it can be happy Wo is me that I am constrained to dwell with Mesech and to have my habitation among the tents of Kedar Psal. 120. 4. VII â—o is me that I am constrained to dwell with Mesech and to have my habitation among the tents of Kedar Psal 120. 4. Till does the Sun with usual motion steer The revolutions of the circling Year Gibeons wondrous Solstice is renew'd â—â—en at the mighty Joshua 's beck he stood â— sure his motion 's become retrograde â— â—nce he turn'd the Hebrew Dial's shade â—hy else shou'd I who now am past the age â—ow'd to tread this Worlds unhappy Stage â—y shou'd I be deny'd an Exit now â—e play'd my part and have no more to do â—here on Earth a Blessing to repair â— injurious force of my detainâ—r there â—â— wou'd I welcom any fav'ring death â—ease me of the burthen of my breath By one sure stroke kind Fate my soul reprieve For 't is continual dying here to live Here our chief bliss is an uncertain Joy Which swift vicissitudes of ill destroy Just as the Sun who rising bright and gay In Clouds and Show'rs concludes the weeping day So boisterous gusts oft' tender Flow'rs invade By tempting winds too soon abroad betray'd Here envious of each others settlement All things contend each other to supplant The second minute drives the first away And Night 's impatient to succeed the Day The eager Summer thinks the Spring too long And Autumn frets that Summer is not gone But Autumn 's self to Winter must give way Lest its cold Frosts o'retake and punish his delay Behold you Sea how smooth without a frown See while I speak how curl'd how rough 't is grown Look how serene's the sky how calm the air Now hark it thunders round the Hemisphere This great Inconstancy of human state Corrupts each minute of our happy fate But oh the worst of ills is still behind The rav'nous converse with our beastly kind â—â—re Nature first in anger did intend A plague of Monsters o're the world to send Then brought forth her most brutish Off-spring Men And turn'd each house into a savage den â—â— this rapacious species we may find All that 's destructive in the preying kind Lion Wolf Tyger Bear and Crocodile Strong to devour and cunning to beguile These Beasts are led to prey by appetite And that once pleas'd in no more blood delight But Man like Hell has an insatiate thirst And still is keenest when so full to burst This raises Fraud makes Treach'ry fine and gay While banish'd Justice flies disrob'd away This fills the world with loud allarms of War And turns the peaceful Plough-share to a hostile Spear Who wou'd be slave to such a Tyrant-life That still engages him in noise and strife Long since alas I did my years compleat And serv'd for freedom still deny'd by Fate When I compute to what a price amount My mis-spent days I 'm bankrupt in th' account Oh! what strange frenzy does those men possess Who rashly deem long life a happiness They sure are strangers to the Joys above Who more than Home a wretched Exile love But Heav'n's remote and its far-distant bliss Appears minute to our mistaken eyes Ah! why my Countrey art thou plac'd so far That I am still a tedious wanderer Happier the Exiles of old Heathen Rome Whom only Tyber did divide from home While to remoter banishment design'd A vast Abyss 'twixt Heav'n and me I find The Hebrew slaves in Harvest were set free My Harvest 's come why not my Liberty The swift fore-runner of the welcom Spring Finds after Winters cold a time to sing She who did long in dark recesses lie Now flys abroad and re-salutes the Sky But I still live excluded from above Deny'd the Object of my Bliss and Love Haste haste my God and take me up to Thee There let me live where I was made to be Aug. Serm. 43. There are two tormentors of the Soul which do not torture it together but by turns Their names are Fear and Grief When it is well with you you fear when ill you grieve O wretched man that I am who shall deliver me from the body of this death Rom. 7. 24. VIII O wretched man that I am who shall deliver me from the body of this death Rom. 7. 24. WHere are the lost delights for which I grieve But which my sorrows never shall retrieve Such vast delights but mention not the loss Whose sad remembrance is thy greatest cross And fate is kindest when it robs us so To take away our sense of suffering too On our first Parents folly we exclaim As if They only were as first to blame On Eve and Adam we discharge our rage And thus expose our naked Parentage But I alas condemn not them alone Nor while I mind their fall forget my own With Eve I was consenting to the cheat Impos'd on Adam and helpt him to eat Hence I my nakedness and shame deriv'd And skins of Beasts to cover both receiv'd And from my forfeit Eden justly driv'n The curse of Earth and the contempt of Heav'n Nor do I now the general loss bemoan My grief 's deficient to bewail my own The tragick story from my Birth I 'll take For early grief did my first silence break 'T was Julyes month the gratefull'st of the year Tho all my life December did appear The Twenty-seventh Oh! had it been my last I had not mourn'd nor that made too much haste That was the fatal day that gave me breath Which prov'd almost my teeming Parent 's death And still as then to her alas I 've been A true Benoni not a Benjamin No sooner was I for the Cradle drest But a strange horror all around possest Who with one dire prophetick voice presage Th' attending mis'ries of my growing age Why didst thou give me
that Fools are num'rous Wise-men few Nor was the prudent Moses wish in vain When he of Mans destruction did complain O that unthinking Mortals wou'd be wise And place their End before their heedful eyes Then Sins short pleasures they wou'd soon despise Not yield like Wax to ev'ry Stamp of Vice Wou'd any but a strange besotted Rout Th' Existence of a God deny or doubt These that in sin they may uncheck'd go on Perswade themselves to a belief of None Our very Crimes t' improve our Folly tend And we 're infatuate e're we dare offend Nor does the growing frenzy here give o're But from this Ill runs headlong on to more We Castles build in this inferior Air As if to have Eternal Beings here â—t when unthought-of Death shall snatch us hence â—e then shall own the fond Improvidence â—ith endless and unprofitable toil â—e strive t' enrich and beautifie the Soil â—is Soil which we must leave at last behind â— those for whom our pains were ne're design'd How does our toil resemble Childrens play â—hen they erect an Edifice of Clay â—ow idly busie and imploy'd they are â—ere some bring Straw there others Sticks prepare â—is loads his Cart with Dirt that in a Shell â—ings Water that it may be temper'd well â—nd in their work themselves they fondly pride â—hile Age the childish Fabrick does deride â— on our Work Heav'n with contempt looks down â—nd with a breath our Babel-Tow'r's o'rethrown What strange desire of Gems what thirst of Gold â—hose drops of Rain congeal'd that ripned Mold â—et these so much mens nobler Souls debase â—hat they their bliss in such mean trifles place Ah! foolish Ign'rants can your choice approâ— No more exalted Objects of your love That all your time in their pursuit you spend As if Salvation did on them depend Heav'n may be purchas'd at an easie rate But oh how few bid any thing for That Unthinking Sots that Earth to Heav'n prefer And fading Joys to endless Glory there The Crime of such an inconsid'rate choice Ought not pretend to Pardon ev'n in Boys For They from Counters currant Money know Almost as soon as they have learnt to go But Men oh shame prize counterfeit delightâ— Before the Joys to which kind Heav'n invites Oh! for some Artist to retrieve their sense E're more degrees of Folly they commence But by Heav'ns piercing Eye we are descry'd Which does our sins with Follies Mantle hide He 's pleas'd to wink at Errors too in me And seeing seems as tho he did not see He knows I 've but a slender stock of Wit â—nd want a Guardian too to manage it â— then some kind Protection Lord assign â—his Ideot Soul But 't will be best in Thine Chrysost in Joann Hom. 4. They are no better than Fools who are ever as it were dreaming of earthly things and of short continuance III. Haue mercy upon me O Lord for I am Weak O Lord heal me for my bones are vexed Psal 6. 2 III. â—ave mercy upon me O Lord for I am weak O Lord heal me for my bones are vexed Psal 6. 2. SHall my just grief be querulous or mute Full of Disease of Physick destitute â—ought thy Love so constant heretofore â—at Vows were needless to confirm me more â—d dost thou now absent and slight my pain â—at fault of mine has caus'd this cold Disdain O blest Physitian of my love-sick Soul â—ose sight alone will make thy Patient whole â—ou who hast caus'd canst thou forget my grief â—ich only from its Author seeks relief Shou'd they whose Art gave dying Fame new breath â—d rescu'd their surviving names from Death â—y in whose sight no bold Disease durst stand â— trembling vanish'd at their least command They who each Simples sov'rein Virtue knew And to their ends cou'd well apply them too Shou'd they their skill in tedious Consult try All all wou'd fail to ease my misery All their Prescriptions without Thine are vain Thine only sute the nature of my pain Thou who hast caus'd canst thou forget my griâ— Which only from its Author seeks relief See! my parch'd tongue my bodies flame declaâ— And my quick Pulse proclaims intestine Wars While so much blood 's profusely spent within That not one drop can in my cheeks be seen And the same Pulse that gave the brisk Allarms Beats a dead March in my dejected Arms My Doctors sigh and shrugging take their leave And me to Heav'n and a cold Grave bequeath While more than they the fatal sense I feel Of my lost health and their succesless skill What can the Patient hope when sad despair Discourages the lost Physician 's care â—e subtle Poyson creeps through all my Veins â—nd in my Bones the fierce Infection reigns â—y drooping head flies to my hands for aid â—t by the feeble Props is soon betray'd â—ow my last breath is ready to expire â—nd I must next to Deaths dark Cell retire â—ainly I strive my other pains to tell â—or they alas are unaccountable â— this forlorn unpity'd state I lie â—hile he who can relieve me le ts me die â—y Face is strange and out of knowledg grown â—v'n I am scarce perswaded 't is my own â—y Eyes have shrunk for shelter in my head â—nd on my Cheek the Rose hangs pale and dead â—o pow'r cou'd drive the fierce Disease away â—or force the plundring Conqu'rour from his prey My Wounds But oh that word has pierc'd my heart â—he very mention does renew their smart â—y Wounds gape wide as they wou'd let in Death â—nd make quick passage for my flitting breath Nor can they ev'n the lightest touch endure But dread the hand that wou'd attempt their Câ— For Lord my Wounds are from the Darts of â— That rage and torture my griev'd Soul within Here a hydropick thirst of Riches reigns And there Prides flatuous humor puffs my veins Next frantick Passion plays the Tyrants part And Loves o're-spreading Cancer gnaws my heaâ— Oft' to the learn'd I made my suff'rings known Oft' try'd their skill but found redress from none Not all the virtue of Bethesda's Pool Without thy help could ever make me whole Then to what healing Altar shou'd I fly But that whose prostrate Victims never die To Thee Health-giver to the world I kneel Who most canst pity what thy self didst feel There 's no sound part in all my tortur'd Soul But if thou wilt Lord thou canst make me whole See how by Thieves I spoil'd and wounded am Forget not then thy good Samaritan My fainting Spirits with rich Wine revive And for my Wounds some Balm of Gilead give Then take me home lest if I here remain My Foes return and make thy succour vain Aug. de Verb. Dom. Serm. 55. cap. 55 The whole World from East to West lies very sick but to cure this very sick World there descends an Omnipotent Physician who humbled himself even to the Assumption of a mortal body as if he had gone into the bed of the diseased IV. Look
in its room â—op'd alternate courses in each day â—d that the foul to fairer wou'd give way â—d as the Sun dispels the Clouds of Night â—hen he to Heav'n restores his welcom Light â— as the Moons kind infl'ence brings again â—e refluous motion of the low-ebb'd Main â—â— with insuccesful Augury â—esag'd things so as I wou'd have them be But oh my grief exceeds in length and sum The Widows Tribute at her Husbands Tomb She when the Author of her Joy is gone Is twice-six months confin'd to mourn alone Yet the last half she does not as before Hide her smooth Fore-head in a close Bendore But all my years are in deep mourning spent There 's not a month not one short day exempt No rules give bounds or measure to my woes But their increase like the feign'd Hydra's grow My life so much in sighs and tears is spent It minds that least for which 't was chiefly meant 'T is true Storms often make the Ocean swell But the most violent are shortest still For when with eager fury they engage They lose themselves in their excess of rage And when their Winter-blasts dis-robe the Wood Their Summer-airs make all the trespass good So that while thus the inj'ry they repair The loss proves gainful to the sufferer But grief does all my hapless years imploy Nor grants me one Parenthesis of Joy My Musick is in sighs and groans exprest With my own hands extorted from my breast This sad diversion is my sole delight This my companion of the day and night How oft' have sighs while I my words confin'd Broke Prison and betray'd my troubl'd mind How oft' have I in tears consum'd the day And in complaints pass'd the long night away Oft' you my Friends condemn'd my sorrows so That oft' I labor'd to suppress them too Let loose the reins to mirth you always cry'd To lose the reins alas in vain I try'd For when with laughter I a sigh supprest â—t rais'd a fatal conflict in my breast And if I wish for sleep to close my eyes Still a fresh show'r that envy'd bliss denies Then if I stop its course impetuous grown T will force its way and bear the Sluces down Each Brook whose stream my tears have made to rise Each shady Grove fill'd with my mournful cries Each lonely Vale and ev'ry conscious Hill The kind repeaters of my sorrows still These know the troubles which I wish'd conceâ— Were by loud throbbings of my heart reveal'd Till mov'd with pity of my sad complaint The Ecchoes too grew sorrowfully quaint My secret moans they vented o're again By turns we wept and did by turns complain So mov'd by Progne's lamentable Note Sad Philomel unlocks her mournful throat As if the em'lous Rivals were at strife Whose tongue shou'd best express the height of grâ— The widow'd Turtle so bewails her Mate With grief unalterable as his Fate And so the Stars have my sad life design'd That not one minute shou'd be fair or kind And that my sorrows may not find relief By wanting new occasions for my grief 'T is their decree That as my Infant-breath Began with sighs so I shou'd sigh to death Chrysost in Psal 115. Ought we not worthily to lament who are in a strange Countrey and banish'd to a Climate remote from our Native Soil My soul breaketh out for the very fervent desire that it hath allways to thy Iudgments Psal 119. 20. DESIRES OF THE Religious Soul BOOK the Second I. My soul breaketh out for the very fervent desire that it hath always unto thy Judgments Psal 119. 20. WHile Heav'n and Earth solicite me to love My doubtful choice is puzl'd which t' approve â—eav'n cries obey while Earth proclaims be free â—eav'n urges duty Earth pleads liberty Call'd hence by Heav'n by Earth I 'm call'd agaiâ— Tost like a Vessel on the restless Main These diff'rent Wo'ers a doubtful Combat wage And thus obstruct the choice they wou'd engage Ah! t is enough let my long-harast mind In the best choice a quiet Haven find Oh! my dear God or let me never love Or let me only Thy commands approve 'T is true 't is pleasant to be free to choose And when we will accept when not refuse Freedom of choice endures restraint but ill 'T is usurpation on th' unbounded will So from his Harness loos'd the neighing Steed Hasts to the Pastures where he loves to feed So the glad Ox from the Ploughs burthen freed Runs lowing on to wanton in the Mead And when the Hinde their freedom wou'd revokâ— This scorns his Harness That defies the Yoak For freedom in our choice we count a bliss Eager to choose tho oft' we choose amiss So the young Prodigal impatient grown To manage his entire Estate alone Takes from his prudent Father's frugal care His Stock by that improv'd and thriv'n there But his own Steward made with eager haste He does the slow-gain'd Patrimony waste Till starv'd by riot and with want opprest He feeds with Swine himself the greater Beast Thus in Destruction often we rejoyce Pleas'd with our ruin since it was our choice How do we weary Heav'n with diff'rent Pray'rs The medly sure ridiculous appears One begs a Wife nor thinks a greater bliss Another's earnest to be rid of his This prays for Children That o're-stock'd repines At the too fruitful Issue of his Loins This asks his Father's days may be prolong'd That if his Father lives complains he 's wrong'd This covets to be old while That opprest With Age wou'd of his burthen be releast Scarce in Ten thousand any Two agree Nay some dislike what they just wish'd to be None knows this minute what he shou'd require Since ev'n the next begets a new desire So Women pine with various Longing-fits When Breeding has deprav'd their appetites The humorsom impertinent Disease Makes that which pleas'd them most as much diâ—pleasâ— Oh! why like them grown restless with desire Do my vain thoughts to boundless hopes aspire Be gone false hopes vain wishes anxious fears Hence you disturbers of my peaceful years Oh! my dear God or let me never love Or let me only Thy commands approve For to obey the Precepts giv'n by Thee Exceeds the Worlds pretended liberty Aug. Solil cap. 12. Allure O Lord my desires with thy sweetness which thou hast hid from them that fear thee that they may desire thee with eternal longings lest the inward relish being deceived may mistake bitter for sweet and sweet for bitter II O that my ways were made so direct that I might keep thy Statutes Psal 119. 5. II. O that my ways were made so direct that I might keep thy Statutes Psal 119. 5. IN what a maze of Error do I stray Where various paths confound my doubtful way This to the right That to the left-hand lies Here Vales descend there swelling Mountains rise This has an easie That a rugged way The treach'ry This conceals That does betray But whither these so diff'rent courses go
course My flesh trembleth for fear of thee and I am afraid of thy Iudgments Psal 119. 120. IV. My flesh trembleth for fear of thee and I am afraid of thy Judgments Psal 119. 120. A Dread of Heav'n was by the Ancients taught As the first impress on Man's infant thought â—nd he who understood it best has said â—is the prime step that does to Wisdom lead â—nform'd by this my early childhood grew â—nd to fear Heav'n was the first thing I knew â—ut still such dark Oblivion dull'd my mind â— could not the repeated Alpha find No stripes can punish my neglectful crime â—ho unimprov'd have trifled out my time â—ull Boys by stripes with Learning are inspir'd â—y little pains with industry acquir'd When twice or thrice they read their Letters o're â—hey're as familiar as if known before And tho in colour all alike appear Each is distinguish'd by its Character May I not hope Age will compleat in me The easie task of tender Infancy In many things I no Instructer sought Too apt alas to practise them untaught Why is not Fear as soon imbib'd a Rule So oft' explain'd in Arts Improving School What I shou'd slight still to my shame I fear And slight that most which I shou'd most revere I fear Mans eye when I wou'd act a sin But dread not Heav'n nor the great Judg within For my gross body I am still in fear But my pure Soul partakes not of my care Thus Birds false men of Clouts affrighted shun Yet boldly to the fatal Lime-twigs run Thus the fierce Lion of false fires affraid Flies to the Toils in which he is betray'd Such vanity has mens dark minds o'respread That less the Thunder than the Clap they dread Think Hell a Fable an invented name And count its Fire a harmless lambent flame With brutish rage to blackest ills they run And never fear the wickedness till done But tho this fear did not their Crimes prevent 'T will come too sure to be their punishment Then with strange frights from their lost senses driv'n Their restless thoughts run on offended Heav'n Then sudden fears their watchful limbs allarm And call them from their lonely beds to arm While their own shadows only do them harm Each little thing 's so magnify'd by fear They dread a Lion when a Mouse they hear If in the night they hear a gentle breeze Begin to whisper in the murmuring Trees With hair erect and parboil'd in a sweat They shrink beneath the steaming Coverlet Whene're they see the nimble Lightning flie Or hear the Thunder in the distant Sky They think each flash a messenger of death And at each crack despair of longer breath At every noise they in new fears engage And ruin from each accident presage Thus always of its guilty self afraid The troubled mind's eternally dismay'd Such punishments attend afflicting guilt Which never pain like its own torments felt Thus trembling Cain dreads from each hand he sees The fate his injur'd Brother had from his His crimson Soul with Abel 's Murther stain'd Still with the bloody Scene is entertain'd No more severe correction waits on sin Than its unbrib'd upbraider still within Then with thy Darts Lord frighten me from My fury wants this kind restriction still Fear timely comes before a fault 's begun He fears too late that fears not till 't is done Bernard Serm. 29. The holy Psalmist desires wisely to be smitten and healthfully to be wounded when he prays to be transfix'd with the fear of God for that fear is an excellent Dart that wounds and destroys the lusts of the Flesh that the Spirit may be safe O turn away mine eyes least they behold vanity Psal 119. 37. V. O turn away mine eyes lest they behold vanity Psal 119. 37. IN my high Capitol two Centries still Keep constant watch to guard my Cittadel â— fix'd or wandring Stars I do not know â—ho either epithet becomes them too â—ach from its duty is in rambling lost â—et each maintains immovably its post â—th swift of motion yet both fix'd remain â—hat Sampson this dark Riddle can explain Ev'n You my Eyes are these mysterious Stars â—'d in my head yet daily wanderers Who plac'd in that exalted Tow'r of mine Like Torches in some lofty Pharos shine Or like two Watch-men on some rising place View every near and every distant pass Yet you to me less constant prove by far Than those kind Guides to their Observers are Their favours only with themselves expire Unless the hand that gave recalls their fire Like Horses you too headstrong for the rein Will let no pow'r your rambling course restrain You by whose guidance we shou'd danger shun Betray us to the Rocks on which we run Thus wandring Dina led by your false light Expos'd her Honor to oblige her Sight Thus while Jessides view'd the bathing Dame What cool'd her heat kindl'd in him a flame Her naked Beauty did a conquest-gain Which arm'd Goliah undertook in vain Thus gazing on the Hebrew Matrons eyes Made the Assyrian's head her easie prize Thus the fond Elders by their sight misled Pursu'd the joys of a forbidden bed Nor cou'd their lustful flame be dispossest â—ill with a show'r of weighty stones supprest More ruin'd Souls by these false guides are lost â—han shipwreck'd Vessels on the Indian-Coast Then happy he happy alike and wise â—ho made a timely cov'nant with his eyes â—nd happier he who did his guards disband â—orn from their sockets by his fearless hand So ill false Centries you your charge perform â—u favour the surprize that shou'd the Camp allarm â—d you for this the Capitol obtain â— this the charge of the chief Castle gain â—at you have thus t' inferior Earth betray'd â—an's lofty Soul for nobler Objects made â—d do not rather raise his thoughts on high â—ove the starry arches of the Sky â—t Theatre will entertain his sight â—h various Scenes of suitable delight But you are more on Earth than Heav'n intent And your industrious search is downward bent What shall I do since you unruly grow And will no limits no confinement know Oh! shut the wandrer's up in endless night Or with thy hand dear God contract their sight Aug. Solil cap. 4 Woe to the blind eyes that see not Thee the Sun that enlightens both Heaven and Earth woe to the dim eyes that cannot see Thee woe to them that turn away their eyes from beholding Truth woe to them that turn not away their eyes from beholding Vanity O let my heart be Sound in thy Statutes that I be not ashamed Psal. 119. 80. VI. O let my heart be sound in thy Statutes that I be not ashamed Psal 119. 80. COu'd I but hope my Face wou'd please my Dear That shou'd be all my bus'ness all my care My first concern shou'd for Complexion be The next to keep my skin from freckles free No help of Art or Industry I 'd want No Beauty-water or improving Paint My Dressing-boxes shou'd
quickly end The King to frowns does all his smiles convert And as he lov'd so hates without desert His favour sowr's to rage and I am sent Far from my Native Soil to Banishment My fall to Hist'ry adds one story more A story I for ever must deplore Sejanus had not a severer fate Nor Clytus happiness a shorter date O God! how great is their security Whose hopes and wishes all rely on thee Aug. in Psal 36. Forsake all other Loves he is fairer who created Heaven and Earth I sate down under his shadow whom I loved with great delight Cant. 2. 3. XIV I sate down under his shadow whom I loved with great delight Cant. 2. 3. IN a long journey to an unknown Clime Much ground I travelâ—'d consum'd much time Till weary grown computing in my mind â— thought the shortest of my way behind But when I better had survey'd the race â— found there still remain'd the longer space Then my faint limbs grew feeble with despair Discourag'd at a journey so severe With hands and eyes erect I vent my grief To Heav'n in hope from Heav'n to find relief Oh! who will shade me from this scorching heat â—ee on my head how the fierce Sun-beams beat â—hile by their servor parch'd the burning Sand â—calds my gall'd feet and forces me to stand Then then I praise the Groves and shady Bow'rs Blest with cool Springs and sweet refreshing Flow'rs Then wish th'expanded Poplar wou'd o'respread Or leafy Apple shade my weary head The God whose aid I oft' had sought before As often found now adds this favour more Whither your hast designs says he I know Know what you want and how you want it too I know you seek Jerusalem above Thither your life and your endeavours move But with the tedious Pilgrimage dismay'd Implore refreshment from the Apple's shade See see I come to bring your pains relief Beneath my shadow ease your weary grief Behold my arms stretch'd on the fatal Tree With these extended boughs I 'll cover thee Behold my bleeding feet my gaping side In these free Coverts thou thy self maist hide This shade will grant thee thy desir'd repose This Tree alone for that kind purpose grows Thus spoke the God whose favour thus exprest With strength inspir'd my limbs with hope my breast I rais'd my eyes and there my Love I spy'd But oh my Love my Love was crucify'd What dreadful Scene is this alas I cry'd Must I beneath this dismal shade abide What comfort can it yield to wretched me While Thou art hung on this accursed Tree Curs'd Tree and more curs'd hand by which 't was set The bloody stains are reeking on it yet Yet this high Tree projects its spreading boughs And with its cooling shade invites repose Yet what it offers still it self denies And more to tears than slecp inclines my eyes Blest Tree and happy hand that fix'd thee here That hand deserves the honor of a Star Now now my Love I thy resemblance know My cool kind shady residence below As the large Apple spreads its loaden boughs From whose rare Fruit a pleasing Liquor flows And more than all its fellows of the Wood Allows the weary rest the hungry food Thus thou art Lord my Covert in the heat My Drink when thirsty and when hungry Meat How oft' my Love how oft' with earnest pray'r Have I invok'd thy shade to rest me there There pensive I 'll bewail my wretched state Like a sad Turtle widow'd of her Mate I 'll bath thy pale dead lips in a warm flood And from thy locks I 'll wash the clotted blood Thy hanging head my hands shall gently raise And to my cheek I 'll lay thy gory face Thy wounded side with watry eyes I 'll view And as thy blood my tears shall ever flow Flow till my sight by their kind flood reliev'd With the sad object be no longer griev'd Yet this one wound in me will many make Till prostrate at thy feet my place I take Then I 'll embrace again the fatal Tree And write this sad Inscription under thee Two Lovers see who their own death conspire â—â—e drowns in Tears while He consumes in Fire Honorius in cap. 2. Cant. apud Delr â— shadow is made of a body and light and is the traveller's covert from the heat his protection from the storm The Tree of Life to wit the Apple is the holy Cross its Fruit is Christ its shadow the refreshment and defence of mankind How shall we sing the Lord's song in a strange Land Psal. 137. 4. XV. How shall we sing the Lord's Song in a strange Land Psal 137. 4. OH why my Friends am I desir'd to sing How can I raise a note or touch a string â—lusick requires a Soul to mirth inclin'd â—nd sympathizes with the troubled mind But you reply Such seasons most require â—he kind diversion of the warbling Lyre When grief wou'd strike you dumb 't is time to sâ—ng â—hen strain the voice strike the trembling string â—or then the mind o'rewhelm'd in sorrow lies â—oo much intent on its own miseries You urge this remedy will grief asswage â—nd with examples prove what you alledge You say This tunes the weary Sailors note While o're long Seas their nimble Vessels float You say This makes the artful Shepherd play Whose tuneful Pipes the tedious hours betray And that the Trav'ller's journey easi'st proves When to the Musick of his voice he moves I 'll not perversly blame this art in them Nor the offensive policy condemn But know my tongue long practis'd in complaint Is skill'd in grief in lamentations quaint Scarce my lost skill cou'd I to practice bring And Musick seem'd a strange unusual thing And as one blinded long scarce brooks the light So pleasing Ayres my uncouth tongue affright When I my slighted Numbers wou'd retrieve And make the speaking Chords appear to live When I wou'd raise the murmuring Viols voice Or make the Lute in brisker sounds rejoyce When on my Pipes attempt a shriller note Or joyn my Harp in consort with my Throat My Voice alas in floods of tears is drown'd And boistrous sighs disperse the fainting sound Again to sing again to play I try'd Again my voice again my hand deny'd Now by disuse slow and unactive made My hand and tongue t' Oblivion are betray'd And now with these allays I try too late To molifie my hard my rigid fate Grant I excell'd in Musick and in Song And warbled swift Division with my tongue Cou'd I with Israel's sweetest Singer vie Or strike the Harp with more success than He Will Musick or Complaint best suit my woe Who never had more cause to weep than now â—ut sorrow has my tuneful Harp unstrung â—nd grief 's become habitual to my tongue â—or do the place or time such mirth allow â—ut grant they did my sorrows answer no. â—hat wou'd you have an exil'd Stanger sing â—is Countrey Anthems to a Foreign King â—orbear my fate and this
I speak in Pray'rs And he in absence charms my listning ears So by the Loadstones unseen wondrous force The faithful Needle steers the Seamans course Tow'rds its lov'd North it constantly doth rise Helping their way to their extreme surprize So does the Flow'r of Phoebus twice a day Turn tow'rds her Sun and her glad leaves display Fair Cynthia thus regards her Brother's beams Renews her Beauty from his borrow'd flames I am thy Clytie Spouse thou art my Sun I Cynthia always tow'rds thy light must run My Spouse my Helice with longing I Where-e're thou draw'st tow'rds thee in raptures flie What wonder if in mutual Love We burn Since Steel can tow'rds the senseless Loadstone turn Bernard Medit. cap. 9. My heart passes thro many things seeking about where it may take its rest but finds nothing that pleases it till it returns to God My Soul melted as my Beloved Spoke Cant. 5. 6. V. My Soul melted as my Beloved spoke Cant. 5. 6. WHat Hills what Rocks what Desarts have I trod Only for one short view of Thee my God! How for one word from those dear lips of Thine My feet a tiresom Pilgrimage injoyn'd O're craggy Rocks of such stupendious height â—h'ascent does ev'n the climbing Deer afright â—t cannot my unwearied haste delay â—â— mighty Love conducts me all the way â—ho from these heights I all things else descry â—he dear-lov'd Object shuns my longing eye Distracted then thro ev'ry Den I rave Search each Recess and visit ev'ry Cave In vain alas those devious paths I wear I only find thou art a stranger there Sometimes into the open Plain I rove But there am lost in Error as in Love Tow'rds Heav'n I look and thro the Fields coâ—plain But both unkindly answer not again Wandring from thence I find a shady Vale There on my Love but oh in vain I call Not far from hence a close thick Covert grows Where panting Beasts fly for a cool repose Here here said I my Love is laid to rest But oh no sign of Thee was here imprest Then stung with passion and o're-whelm'd â— grief I court the shoar and thence expect relief Here a high Tow'r exalts its lofty head By whose kind light the wandring Seaman's led Here I ascend and view the Ocean round While my complaints o're all the shoar resound â—ell me you Shoars you Seas and tell me true â— not my Love conceal'd in some of You â—â— to each other you wou'd constant be â—iscover and be just to Love and me â—carce had the shoar receiv'd the mournful noise â—hen it return'd a loud redoubled voice â—ut that some sporting Eccho I believe â—â—at fools the wretch'd and dallies with their grief â—gain the shoar I rend the shoar does hear â—nd the kind voice again salutes my ear â— voice a well-known voice 't was Thine my Life â—hose pleasing accents soon dispell'd my grief â—ow I reviv'd One such immortal breath â—d pow'r enough to rescue me from death â—y voice like Lightning unperceiv'd unfelt â— a strange inffence does th' affections melt â— thy Disciples hearts were fir'd within â—en on the way thou didst discourse begin â—e secret charms of Thy prevailing voice â—us'd unaccountable yet mighty Joys â—as the same heav'nly sound that answer'd me â—d all dissolv'd me into Extasie That kindled such a fire within my Soul Whose ardent heat an Ocean cannot cool See how my melting passions drop and run Like Virgin-wax before the scorching Sun O might I be so blest to mix with Thee Our Life the same the same our Love shou'd â—e Aug. Solil cap. 34. What is this that I feel what fire is it that warms my heart what light is it that enlightens it O thou fire which always burnest and art never extinguished do thou inflame me Whom have I in Heaven but thee and there is none upon Earth that I desire in Comparison of thee Psal. 73. 24. VI. â—hom have I in Heaven but Thee and there is none upon Earth that I desire in comparison of Thee Psal 73. 24. WHat shall I seek great God in Heav'n above The Earth or Sea whereon to fix my love â—o I shou'd ransack Heav'n the Earth and Sea â—l they can boast is nothing without Thee I know what mighty Joys in Heav'n abound â—hat Treasures in the Earth and Sea are found â—et without Thee my Love t' enrich their store â—l all their glories are but mean and poor â— Heav'n O Earth O vast capacious Main â—ree famous Realms where Wealth and Plenty reign â—o in one heap your triple pleasures lay â—ey were no pleasures were my Love away My thoughts I own have often rang'd the Deep Search'd Earth and Heav'n and in no bounds wou'â— keep But when they rambled the Creation round No equal Object in the Whole they found Sometimes I thought to rip the pregnant Earth And give its rich and long-born burthen birth Gold Silver Brass seeds of the shining vein And each bright product of the fertile Mine For these we dig and tear our Mothers Womb Till for our boundless Treasures we want room To what advantage Tho o're-charg'd with Gold Your bursting Coffers can't their burthen hold Yet this can ne're your troubled mind appease Nor buy your sorrows ev'n a minutes ease Here disappointed to the Deep I go Whose low recesses the scorch'd Indians know Pleas'd with its Gemmy store my self to load I dive and visit its conceal'd abode Then the scarce Burret seek whose bloods rich dyâ— Is the great Ornament of Majesty Then scatter'd Pearls I gather on the shoar Where rich Hydaspes casts his shining store Alas these Jewels brought from several Coasts All that each River or the Ocean boasts The Saphyr Jasper and the Chrysolite Can't quench my thirst or stay my appetite Then since the Earth and Sea content deny Heav'ns lofty Fabrick I resolve to try With wonder I the vast Machine survey With glorious Stars all studded bright and gay Amaz'd their still unalter'd course I view And how their daily motion they renew But among all the Pensile-fires above None warm'd my breast none rais'd my Soul to love But I beheld at distance from below Then farewell Earth up to their Orbs I go Now less'ning Cities leave my distant sight And now the Earths whole Globe is vanish'd quite Above the Sun and Planets I am born And their inferior Influences scorn Now the bright pavement of the Stars I tread Once the high cov'ring of my humble head Now o're the lofty flaming Wall I flie And Heav'ns bright Court lies open to my eye Now curious Crowds of the wing'd Choir above Tow'rds the new guest with dazling splendor movâ— Hymns well compos'd to Airs Divine they sing New tune their Harps and scrue up ev'ry string Then in brisk Notes triumphant Anthems play While Heav'n resounds as if 't were Holy-day O glorious Mansions fill'd with shining fires O Courts fit only for your Starry Choirs My ravish'd Soul 's in strange amazement lost Sure no
As the chas'd Hart for the refreshing stream Cyril in Joan. lib. 3. cap. 10. It is an excellent water that allays the pernicious thirst of this world and the heat of Vice that washes off all the stains of sin that waters and improves the Earth in which our Souls inhabit and restores the mind of man that thirsts with an earnest desire to its God When shall I come and appear before the presence of God Psal. 42. 2. XII When shall I come and appear before the presence of God Psal 42. 2. WIth promis'd Joys my ears thou oft' didst fill But they are only Joys of promise still Didst thou not say thou soon wou'dst call me home Be just my Love and kindly bid me come Expecting Lovers count each hour a day And death to them 's less dreadful than delay A tedious train of months and years is gone Since first you bid me hope yet gave me none Why with delays dost thou abuse my love And fail my vain expectancies above While thus th' insulting Crowd derides my woe Where 's now your Love how well he keeps his Vow Haste then and home thy longing Lover take If not for mine yet for thy promise sake When shall I come before thy Throne and see Thy glorious Scepter kindly stretch'd to me For Thee I pine for Thee I am undone As drooping Flow'rs that want their Parent Sun O cruel tort'rer of my wounded Soul Grant me thy presence and I shall be whole O when thou Joy of all admiring eyes When shall I see thee on thy Throne of bliss As when unwelcom night begins its sway And throws its sable mantle o're the day The withering glories of the Garden fade And weeping Groves bewail their lonely shade To melancholly silence men retire And no sweet Note sounds from the feather'd Choir But hardly can the dawning morn display The welcom Ensigns of th' approaching day But the glad Gardens deck themselves anew And the cheer'd Groves shake off their heavy Dew To early homage Man himself devotes And Birds in Anthems strain their tuneful throats So without Thee I grieve I pine I mourn So triumph so revive at Thy return But Thou unkind bidst me delight my eyes With other Beauties other Rarities Sometimes thou bidst me mark the flow'ry Field What various scents and shews its Pastures yield Then to the Stars thou dost direct my sight For they from Thine derive their borrow'd light Then saist Contemplate Man in Him thou 'lt see The great resemblance of thy Love and Me. Why wou'dst thou thus deceive me with a shade A trifling Image that will quickly fade My fancy stoops not to a mortal aim Thou thou hast kindled and must quench my flame O glorious Face worthy a Pow'r Divine Where Love and Awe with equal mixture shine Triumphant Majesty of that bright Ray Where blushing Angels prostrate homage pay We in thy Works thy fix'd impressions trace Yet still but faint reflections of thy Face When this inchanted World 's compar'd with Thee It s boasted Beauty 's all deformity Thy Stars no such transcending glories own As Thine whose light exceeds all theirs in one This truth some one of them can best declare Who on the Mount thy blest spectators were Who on Thy Glories were allow'd to gaze And saw Heav'n opned in Thy wondrous Face Nor can we blame thy great Apostle's Zeal To whom thou didst that happy sight reveal That slighting all things heretofore most dear Was all for building Tabernacles there Yet he beheld Thee then within a Veil The killing Rays thou kindly didst conceal He saw a lambent flame thy Face surround Thy Temples with a dazling Glory crown'd How had he wondred at the nobler Light Whose bare Reflection was so heav'nly bright But oh That 's inaccessible to humane sight Then me oh me to that blest state receive Where I may see thee all and seeing live When will that happy day of Vision be When I shall make a near approach to Thee Be wrapt in Clouds and lost in Mystery 'T is true the Sacred Elements impart Thy virt'ual presence to my faithful heart But to my sense still unreveal'd thou art This tho a great is an imperfect bliss T' embrace a Cloud for the bright God I wish My Soul a more exalted pitch wou'd sly And view Thee in the heights of Majesty Oh! when shall I behold Thee all serene Without an envious cloudy Veil between When distant Faith shall in near Vision cease And still my Love shall with my Joy increase That happy day dear as these Eyes shall be And more than all the dearest things but Thee Aug. in Psal 42. â—f thou sindest any thing better than to behold the face of God haste thee thither Wo be to that love of thine if thou dost but imagine any thing more beautiful than He from whom all Beauty that delights thee is derived O that I had the wings of a Dove for then I would fly away and be at rest Psal. 55. 6. XIII â— that I had the wings of a Dove for then I would fly away and be at rest Psal 55. 6. THo great Creator I receive from Thee All that I am and all I hope to be â—et might this humble Clay expostulate â— wou'd complain of my defective state To Man th' ast given the boundless Regency Of three vast Realms the Ocean Earth and Sky But oh how shall this ample Pow'r be try'd When still the means to use it are deny'd Pardon my hasty censure of thy skill Who think thy mighty Work defective still Nor am I forward to correct thy Art By wishing man a Casement in his heart Whose dark recesses all the world might see That prospect justly is reserv'd for Thee But the defect I mourn is greater far His want of Wings to bear him thro the Air. Inferiour Creatures no perfection want To hinder their enjoyment of Thy grant The scaly Race have nimble Fins allow'd With which they range about their native Flood And all the feather'd Tenants of the Air Born up on tow'ring Wings expatiate there Thus ev'ry Creature finds a blest content Adapted to its proper Element But Man for the command of all design'd Is still to One injuriously confin'd While Nature often is extravagant And gives his Subjects more than what they want Some of the watry kind we know can fly And visit when they please the lofty Sky And in exchange some of the aëry brood Descend and turn bold Pirates in the Flood While still to Man Heav'n does all means deny To exercise his vain Authority Ev'n buzzing Insects with light wings are blest â—n whose small frame Heav'n has much art exprest But Man the great the noble Master-piece Wants a perfection that abounds in these Nay some the meanest of the feather'd kind For neither profit nor delight design'd Stretch their Dominions to a vast extent Nor pleas'd with Two range a third Element Sometimes on Earth they walk with stately pace And sport and