Selected quad for the lemma: glory_n
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A60173
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A sacred poem of the glory and happiness of heaven. By J. S.
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J. S. (James Shute), 1664-1688.
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1689
(1689)
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Wing S3713A; ESTC R218088
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16,412
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22
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A SACRED POEM OF THE Glory and Happiness OF HEAVEN By J. Shute LONDON Printed in the Year MDCLXXXIX THE GLORY and HAPPINESS OF HEAVEN ABove the tallest most exalted View When stretcht and lifted up by Opticks too Above the Convex of this Azure Vault So out of sight we can't tell what to call 't High above all that our Conceits can reach When sublimated to their utmost stretch There is what we call Heav'n a joyous State Too happy for a Guess to calculate The greatest Riches that a Miser's Dream E're conjur'd up to tempt and flatter him The most of Honour that a Monarchs Court Can give those Men that hunt and rival for 't The rarest Scenes that raptur'd Saints have view'd When Fancy wrought in a Prophetick Mood Fall infinitely short of Heav'n and can't Yield Joys enough to treat or tempt a Saint He to whose Palate nothing suits but Bliss Can't relish such ignoble Fare as this Alas his noble Soul can't stoop to esteem Things so inglorious and unworthy him Heav'n has more Glory couch'd within a Point Than all this worthless scanty World has in 't 'T is guarded round with double Walls of Gold As hard to force as stately to behold The Batteries which Damned Spirit 's make Can 't Scale its Bulwarks nor its Pillars shake Their Hellish Engines spend their Strength in vain For Bullets shot do but rebound again The gay Embroid'ry of the Place invites All Admiration and the gaudy Sights Which charm the Eye on ev'ry side proclaim The Pow'r and Skill of him that wrought the same 'T is garnish'd round with Light and blazon'd all With those bright Rays which from Gods Image fall Thrones and Dominions here in order stand Rankt in their Stations like a charging Band Mansions like Leaves in their Autumnal Falls Lye scatter'd up and down on Pedastalls Above hang Canopies of vast Extent Propt by the Pow'r of God Omnipotent Scepters and Crowns of costly sorts here are Rank't and enshrin'd like Magazines of War Pearls Rubies and Diamonds in Clusters shine And hang like Grapes upon a fruitful Vine The bright Piazza's of the Palace Court Are pav'd with Rubies of the richer sort Three Royal Thrones all curiously wrought Carv'd by the Skill of an Almighty Thought Are fix'd on a commanding Place wherein The Father Son and Spirit Sit and Reign Their Crowns are charg'd with richer Pearls and more Than India yields or ever Aaron wore And being triple-shap'd they do imply The deep-lay'd Myst'ry of the Trinity In Godhead these are One in Will the same Yet Three in Personality and Name The Fathers Looks are so divine his Face Bears in its Visage such Majestick Grace That 't is a Happiness it self compleat To be enabled to contemplate it His aspect is so gravely great and shews So much of Deity to him that views That 't is a Question manag'd in Disputes Which do's it most This or his Attributes He 's happy in himself and 's Creatures are Happy so far as they his Image bear The Prospect of his Glory shines as bright In Hellish Darkness as in Heavens Light He do's enjoy his happy self as well Amidst the daring Blasphemies of Hell As the Saints Songs but he has praise of Them Because they bless themselves in blessing Him He is to them both Theatre and Stage And all they act is in his Personage His Self-sufficiency compleatly fills His Breast with Goodness some of which distills In Drops of Love on all his Works but this Is only what o'reflows from his Abyss The Son the Second of the Three appears Bright with that Glory which his Image bears His Throne is such as He that fills it none Can fancy to be less than Three in One. The Host salute him God and joyntly sing Hosannah's to their Prophet Priest and King That yet these Functions are in act is true For Honour 's paid him to each Office due He 's Prophet for his Spirit do's reveal The dark Intendments of his Fathers Will And working with his Word affords us Light That shews us all the deep Designs of it He 's Priest and makes an Altar of his Throne To offer up the Church her Prayers on His Intercession makes an Off ring good When hallow'd with the Merits of his Blood. He 's King this by his Scepter may be guest Besides his Presence speaks him such at least His Church on Earth entitles him Supream And all Heav'ns Hierarchies second them Embroider'd thus with Offices and drest With all that speak one Beautiful or Blest He sits enthron'd and naked to the View Of those that wonder and adore him too The Holy Ghost the Last in Order shews Himself as great as Son or Father do's His Presence is Divine his looks do own A Grandeur proper to a God alone The Beauty of his Image do's express A shining pure untainted Holiness His Graces sweeter Odours do present Than e're Arabia from her Spices sent The Gifts wherewith he is embalm'd descry The Sweetnesses that in his Nature lye The Grace and Greatness of his Presence draws The Eyes of all Spectators where they pause Not out of Fear but Wonder while they see So much of Sweetness Love and Majesty Before these Thrones the whole Celeftial throng Do Homage Couching as they dance along Where each devoutly on his bended Knee Lauds the distinct but undivided Three The Fathers mighty Will and matchless Pow'r Are what in Him they most of all adore The Saints rejoyce in these because they know These made them happy and will keep them so They bless that Word whose mighty sound awoke Dull lifeless Nothing to a World and spoke A lumpish Chaos to a curious Frame And still has govern'd and upheld the same They reverence his Greatness most and bow To the grave Grandeur of his Godly Brow. Their low respectful postures plainly prove Their filial Sense of his Paternal Love. They praise his Works below and sing them forth In Numbers measur'd to express their Worth But when they view those Instances of Love That make more Figure in his Works Above When they survey the whole Celestial Sphere And paraphrase on all the Wonders there They tune to higher strains and make their praise Keep pace with what Deserts its Object has So then Gods Power most applauded seems Nay 't is the Burden of their Sacred Hymns The Sons Perfections they as much proclaim Couching in Homage to his Sacred Name They honour him as Soveraign and own How much they hold by Vertue of his Crown They Stile him Prince of Peace and all accord In dutiful Allegiance to their Lord His Name of Saviour sounds so sweet to all It makes their Raptures Epidemical His bright unmantled Glory spreads it's Rays And heats their spirits to delight and praise Some his Humility extol and some His Love that made Man from his Mansion come Some his Example some his Doctrine bless Some his Compassion some his Holiness All joyn his Incarnation to adore That
Blessing which begat ten thousand more Thus all in tributary Songs applaud Their Prophet Priest their King and God. The Holy Ghost whose Godhead is the same Has Adoration proper to his Name Those of his Excellences that appear In 's Gifts and Graces most applauded are Some bless him for those first Convictive Calls That kindly warn'd them against After-falls Some for Converting Grace from whence they had Good Habits giv'n to supersede the Bad. Some for his Promises that banish't Cares And taught their Faith to overcome their Fears Some for his Testifying Seal that gave Assurance of the Joys they hop'd to have Some for the Comforts of his Presence here Which cheer'd their Hearts whate're their Sorrows were Which after Tryal of their Faith did quite Take off the Cross or make it sit but light Some honour this some That Grace most of All Yet their discordant Praise is musical For all in one harmoniously close As diff'ring Musick in a Chorus do's Thus Three in One and One in Three receive The pers'nal Homage Holy Spirits give But tho' They are distinctly blest no One Has Praise for what the other Two have none Neither in Glory or in Might excels But in Perfection they are Parallels Yet this Description is not with Design To grasp the Godhead nor its Bounds define To aim to scan or draw it out to view Would be Presumption and lost Labour too Who knows how God's distinctly Three in One And One in Three without Division Who understands and will explain to me This num'rous One and yet unnumbred Three 'T is too Mysterious for our Faith to clear He that believes must never reason here 'T is Riddle to the Saints and little less To the deep Insight of an Angel's Guess Oh topless Pile of Mysteries its Height Is undiscoverably out of Sight Our Reason when it proudly tries to view Quickly grows giddy and confounded too 'T is too much Light for Mortal Eyes to bear 'T is inaccessibly Divine and clear I aim not then by this descriptive Guess To found the Depth of what is bottomless If any Verse shall make the Riddle known Some Angel-Laureat must drop it down This Height will keep its Mystick Distance still In spight of Reason's counter-charming Skill Since then the more I look the less I see Of what in Mercy is conceal'd from me I 'le henceforth plainly take the Three in One And mean them All when I name God alone But as the Deity can ne're admit A Short-arm'd Human Thought to fathom it So punctually to copy out the Bliss Which to the Saints in Heaven dispenced is Is more than Reason's able to direct Me to perform or any to expect In Nature's Search we to the Cause advance Before we can inform our Ignorance To judge of Acts we must their Objects know Else as unlearn'd as when we came we go So to proportion out the boundless Love That is imparted to the Blest Above We ought to understand the Fountain whence These happy Souls derive their Influence What 's in th' Effect is in the Cause be sure Streams won't run muddy if the Spring be pure First to know God do's necessary seem To know the Happiness of Souls in Him But Spirits are so exquisitely fine They scape our Notices and pass unseen And if our Reason can't discourse of These Who knows what God the Father of them is So then I 'le only speak my Thoughts and give This loose Account of what the Blest receive The Throne Imperial is encompass'd round With Guardian-Angels to their Stations bound These glitt'ring Courtiers all of Royal Blood Seem by their Services to credit God Each in the Brightness of his Glory spreads More Rays of Lustre than proud Phoebus sheds But yet those Beams in which they shine so bright Are all reflected from Diviner Light. They borrow all their Beauty which would soon Decline and fade if God should hide his own Their diff'rent Orders comlily agree And joyntly make a graceful Symmetry All know their Distance and devoutly give To God the Rights of his Prerogative Next these there do's another Order wait Of Beings less insufferably great I mean the Saints whose Faith and Patience sought This Purchase which their Elder Brother bought Whose thrifty Stewardship of Talents gain'd These large Possessions in the Holy Land Of These the Patriarchs from whom proceed The num'rous Offspring call'd the Holy Seed With all their pious Progeny beset Are here in Universal Council met Hard by assembled in a spatious Sphere The grave Society of Prophets are These are a Sage Prognosticating Race Exalted by the Chymistry of Grace Above the Vulgar Saints their Office proves Them more Divine by two or three Removes They sit all clad in the Mysterious Dress Of Hieroglyphick Schemes and Images The Pageantry of their Prophetick Dreams Is painted in their Robes the Mystic Schemes Of Types and Visions drawn in Perspective Make pictur'd Things seem to the Eye alive Thus gayly drest in party-colour'd Plumes They sit like Limners in their Image-Rooms By these as near as Order will permit The grave Apostles in a Synod meet These by their Presence would be guess'd to be Committee-Saints or Patres Patriae Hard by the Martyr'd Champions of the Cross That dy'd least Life should be a publick Loss Whose Courage to the Death unshaken stood And wrote their Cause in Characters of Blood. Rang'd in Battalia joyfully advance Their dear bought Spoils of Faith and Patience These and a thick innumerable Host Swarming throughout the whole Celestial Coast Stand all devoutly ready to fulfil The welcom Orders of their Makers Will And they are done just as they are embrac't With a most Zealous Cautionary Hast 'T is neither base nor servile to submit They work Gods Will and will in working it No Time nor Strength is in a Message spent The Errand's done as soon's the Saint is sent Thus God and They are pleas'd in that as soon As his Design is known to Them 't is don Nor do's their Zeal in Ministring decline Its strength is Energetic and Divine It knows no Chills and is from Pauses free There acting where 't would always active be Thus the Employments which they here pursue Are both their Business and Diversion too Delight is all they know here 's only That For Souls to feed upon and center at They find a happy Welcome here and are Enobled for the Dignities they wear Their Souls and Bodies are refin'd and freed Of those Infirmities Corruption breed They both receive such great Improvements here That they take leave of being what they were The Soul now fashion'd in a purer Mould Finds its New-make more noble than the old Its Powers those of Intellect and Will Are much improv'd by Glory's Chymic Skill Its Knowledge is not seconded with Fear Or jealous Doubts of some Delusion near It learns but labours not nor is afraid It shall forget what in it self is laid It knows by Intuition and has got The