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ID Title Author Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication) STC Words Pages
A26987 Poetical fragments heart-imployment with God and it self : the concordant discord of a broken-healed heart ... / by Richard Baxter. Baxter, Richard, 1615-1691. 1681 (1681) Wing B1349; ESTC R5795 56,143 158

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more advantage here than danger find Thy Soil is oft manured by such dung I 'le Honour give to whom it doth belong It may be safe to others but to me 'T was best from such Temptations to be free Let my preferment lye in serving all While I sit low I have not far to fall Keep me from the Temptations of the Devil For so thou dost deliver us from Evil. My youthful Pride and Folly now I see That grudg'd for want of Titles and Degree That blush'd with shame when this defect was known And an inglorious Name could hardly own Attempting to have hid it twice or thrice With vile equivocations next to lies And to thy Methods was unreconcil'd Because I was not Rabbi Doctor styl'd Forgive this Pride and break the Serpent's brain Pluck up the poisonous Root till none remain Give me the Wisdom I 'le not beg the Fame Grant me the thing let others take the name Give me the Learning and it is no harm If thou shalt place me in the lowest Form Honours are shadows which from seekers fly But follow after those who them deny I brought none with me to thy work but there I found more than I easily could bear Although thou wouldst not give me what I would Thou gavest me the promis'd hundred-fold O my Dear God! how precious is thy Love Thy wayes not ours lead to the Joyes above The Third Part. THE wondrous Mercy of my bounteous Lord which sent me forth to Preach his sacred Word Prepar'd my way and call'd me to the place Where I must first proclaim his Saving Grace All things thou suitedst fitly to my need Giving me freedom season ground and seed Poor thirsty Souls attend with greedy Ear Crowding in multitudes thy Word to hear Thy Mercy opening so wide a door Gave some first-fruits betimes and hopes of more The various places where my Lot did fall Were all appointed to me by thy Call I never was to any of them brought By the Direction of my own forethought Much less was ever any by me sought And least of all by price or bargain bought I nere found cause of one place to repent Although my sins in all I must lament None were foreseen yet after seen to reason To be the fittest for the work and season But among all none did so much abound With fruitful mercies as that barren ground Where I did make my best and longest stay And bore the heat and burden of the day Mercies grew thicker there than Summer flowers They over-numbered my daies and hours There was my dearest Flock and special Charge Our hearts in mutual love thou didst enlarge 'T was there that mercy did my Labours bless With the most great and wonderful success Yet there were Sons of Belial whose rage Reason with Truth and Love could not asswage Who Lov'd and Hated just as Satan bid them Rul'd by the Reins of Lust by him that rid them In swinish drunkenness they drownd their wits Most furious in their rude tumultuous fits As Boars or Stags at other times more tame When lustful heats their blood and brains inflame Fiercely assault such as stand in their way None 's safe before them till their heats decay So doth the love of revellings and sport Poor brutish fleshly sinners so transport That ragingly they fly in that man's face Who doth by sacred Truth their sin disgrace And as in Armies Drums and Trumpets sound The frightful cries of wounded men to drownd And even the fearful in the furious crowd Are carry'd on to death through streams of blood So those ensnared Youths who formerly Out of the Rout retain'd some modesty Conjoyned with the Rabble did as they The common fury and their lusts obey Run with the Herd Mirth and the Rables noise Drown Reasons Plea and God's reclaiming voice Death is forgot Conscience cannot be heard Hell and Damnation now are little fear'd They have their curse their own sentence pass Away with Jesus give us Barr abas Away with Preachers who disturb our game Talk not of Judgment Let us bear the blame Whilst grieved Preachers can but wish groan O that your day of mercy you had known O my Dear God! how precious is they Love Which looks on such with pity from above Now England's horrid Civil Wars began When God a sinful Nation meant to fan When sin grown high bold out-fac'd the Light When Pride and Faction pleaded Divine Right When most their Love some their Patience lost When proud malicious men must not be crost When wise men seemed fools fools seem'd wise And when the worst were best in their own eyes When Piety with Lazarus was loath'd And Sin with Purple and fine Linnen cloath'd And when the sacred Tribe despising Souls Through love of wealth honor blow'd the coals When Demas for the World deserted Paul And their own matters were first sought by all When they that sought their good things in this life Had banisht Love fill'd the Church with strife Where striving factions Charity defy'd And carnal Counsels did the Church divide When swinish Gadarens did Christ refuse And the prophane his servants did abuse When Holiness the common Foe was deem'd And nothing more intollerable seem'd When holy Truth and Preachers were despis'd And wicked means to cast them out devis'd When sin presum'd to make a mock of grace And folly spit reproaches in Christ's face When vulgar rage had found this common vent And impious scorn on Godliness was spent When sin was not so much oppos'd as God Then were we ready for the bloody Rod. When those sins reign'd that must not now be nam'd But by Heav'ns Justice shall at last be sham'd When old condemned vanities and crimes Became the Reverend Virtues of the Times Then God in Judgment sate to plead his Cause And judge the proud despisers of his Laws Banish'd Love doth feaster'd hearts forsake Blindness suspicions wrath possession take Each man unto the fire his Fagot brought And each against another quarrels sought The whirlwind in the North did first arise And raise the dust which troubled English Eyes And though Heav'ns mercy there prevented blood The Irish fury shed a crimson flood The French blood shew'd the temper of the Nation Their Faith and Faithlesness keep Moderation Their Bartholomews hot dog-daies thirst had cost Thirty or forty thousand lives at most But Ireland's Romish Zeal was hotter far And in their preparation to a War Two hundred thousand they surpriz'd and slew Not that their Will so small a measure knew But here God checkt their Power heard the cries Of dying Innocents which pierc'd the Skies England affrighted by her neighbours harm Threatned to be the next takes the Allarm As Citizens that see a raging flame Threaten the Neighhours houses with the same Do leave their Trades and all together run Trying to quench the Fire where it begun And then pull down the houses which adjoyn Some seek to