Selected quad for the lemma: heaven_n
Text snippets containing the quad
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A47509
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The glorious lover a divine poem upon the adorable mystery of sinners redemption / by B.K., author of War with the Devil.
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Keach, Benjamin, 1640-1704.
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1679
(1679)
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Wing K64; ESTC R18445
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124,674
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294
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stable Moths can't corrupt them nor can Thieves be able To rob us of them Nay yet further-more He that hath them what e're comes can't be poor His Riches can't be spent his Treasury Cannot exhausted be nor yet drawn dry These Riches will rejoyce thee make thee glad Revive thy heart and God will never add Sorrow with them whilst thou dost live on earth They 'l quiet thee and fill thy Soul with mirth They 'l be a breast of such sweet Consolation That when all other dwellers in the Nation Shall be perplext through loss of earthly gain Thou shalt be satisfied and remain In perfect peace nought shall distress thy mind When they shall nought save horrid anguish find Though Gold and Silver will not satisfie The Soul of Man yet this I do espy The loss of them and other earthly things It grief and sorrow to the Spirit brings And so uncertain are things of the world Though here to night e're morning all are hurlâ—d Away from him who now possession hath Like to a bubble are all things on Earth He that on wordly Riches sets his mind Strives to take hold on shadows and the wind But if Christ's Riches once thou dost obtain The loss of them thou never shalt sustain Nor will they leave thee when thou com'st to die But cleave unto and thee accompanie Beyond the Grave ev'n to Eternitie What dost thou say canst make a better choice Than close with Christ O hearken to his voice And don 't with fraud the proffer made to thee If any good thou dost in Riches see Christ's Bounty What sayest thou what hast thou in thine eye Will not Christ's Riches move thee then I 'le try To gain thee by some other property He 's bountiful and of a generous heart Most free and noble ready to impart What e're he hath unto the Soul he loves O see how his Heroick Spirit moves In him whose generous whose bounteous hand Holds forth to thee what e're thou canst demand 'T is thine for asking do but speak the word Thou hast it done O! none like this dear Lord Some mens great Riches seem to overflow Who do a base ignoble Spirit show They treasure up their bags lay heap on heap Yet with a narrow covetous spir't keep All from the poor Nay their own Wives can get But now and then a little in a fit In a good mood sometimes perchance they 'l be Kind unto them though but unfreely free But Christ's rich Bounty does to all extend He stretches forth his hand to Foe and Friend Refined Gold Eye-salve and Rayments white Ev'n all choice things for profit and delight Sweet Frankincense Spicknard Calamas fine Myrrh Saffron with all choice of spiced Wine He freely gives to all O come who will He 'l bid you welcome and your Treasures fill O what doth he then to his Friends impart Unto his Spouse the Soul who has his heart Come eat O Friends and drink abundantly Beloved ones 't was for your sakes that I This Banquet made There 's nought says he too good For those that I have purchas'd with my blood Take Grace and Glory all I have I give you And to my self I will e're long receive you Ask that your joy may now be full for I Can't any thing that 's good your souls deny The Soveraign Power and Dignity of Christ What can I now do more if still thou art Resolved to deny Jesus thy heart If Beauty will not move thee to incline To close with him who longs till he is thine Strange Beauty oft prevails great Conquests gains Like to a mighty Victor binds in chains Those wch would not by other means e're yield Such is the nature of his pow'rful Shield Triumphantly it has obtain'd the Field No standing out against its piercing Darts It hath a secret way to wound those hearts Whose constitution leads them naturally To steer that course and on it cast an Eye To search the sweet which Fancy says doth lye Hid in the same For human Beauty's vain Which some have sacrific'd their lives to gain But Christ's sweet Beauty is a real thing And doth substantial joys and pleasures bring Such pleasures also which will still abide For evermore like Rivers by thy side Shall Beauty which is spotless without slain Nor Riches neither sweet Imbraces gain Nor generous Bounty win thy purer love Then let Ambition thy affections move Is Greatness barren quite of solid joys Are all her Merchandize but empty toys If it be earthly 't is an Airy thing Though 't were to be a Spouse unto a King But let it not be so lookâ—d on by thee To be espous'd to that great Majestie From whom alone true Honour dos descend This Greatness lasting perfect ne'r will end Come Soul let us most seriously now pry Into Christ's Pow'r and regal Soveraignty And next let me his glorious Pow'r show By which he works and all great things can do Some have a Pow'r whereby they can command But to accomplish things do want a hand But Christ in both excels 't is he alone Hath regal Pow'r and what he will have done He can effect i' th twinkling of an eye Though all combine against him far and nigh He 's over Angels as thou heardst before They gladly him do rev'rence and adore The Head o' th Church makes Laws and governs it According as he sees 't is best and fit His regal Pow'r also doth descend And over all the Devils doth extend The Keys of Hell and Death to him are given 'T is he alone can shut and open Heaven Power to Rule to command to forbid To punish or deliver they 'r all hid In him alone 't is he can bind or loose To damn or save 't is all as he doth chuse He 's King of Kings all mighty men below To him their Princely Crowns Kingdoms owe. Yea such an universal Monarch's he Commands the mighty Winds and stils the Sea 'T was by his hand the glorious Heav'ns were made And wondrous Earth's foundations first were laid The Sun the Moon and Stars receivâ—d their light From him at first to rule both Day and Night His Power 's absolute without controle He governs all the World from Pole to Pole His Soveraign Pow'r was not gain'd by fight Or Usurpation but a lawful Right As he is God 't is his essentially Born Heir of it from all Eternity And as he 's Mediator th' God of Heaven This glorious Power unto him has given His Pow'rs Infinite it hath no bound No ends or limits of it can be found He made the World which by him doth subsist Nay he can make ten thousand if he list He can do more than we can think or know Can kill and make alive save or o'rethrow The Conquests he has gain'd demonstrate The matchless Pow'r of this dread Potentate Sin is ore-come the Devil 's forc'd to fly Nay 〈◊〉 hath obtain'd a perfect Victory O're Death o're Hell o're Wrath