Selected quad for the lemma: heaven_n
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A65224
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Divine poems written by Thomas Washbourne ...; Poems. Selections
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Washbourne, Thomas, 1606-1687.; Phillips, Edward, 1630-1696?
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1654
(1654)
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Wing W1025; ESTC R20784
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59,365
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of right it doth belong They that are strangers to the Covenant And saving faith do want This holy Well disdain As if it no more vertue did contain Then Abana and Pharpar which Can hardly cure a scab or itch Much lesse the spreading leprosie of sin Which sticks so close within That nought can cleanse the same But th' Aqua Vitae which from Christs side came Go then my soul and drink thy fil See from his heart it doth distil What though thou very poor and wretched art In it thou may'st have part For t is the beggars bath As much as t is the Kings and he that hath A mind for to be cleans'd indeed May use the same as he hath need Mal. 3.17 They shall be mine saith the Lord of Hosts in that day when I make up my Jewels YOu that of godlinesse do make a mock And those that are religious jeere As if they were your laughing stock Know that ere long God wil appear To judge this wicked world and then They wil be found to be the only men Though now you tread them underneath your feete And no more reckoning of them make Then of the dust that 's in the street The time shal come when God wil take Them for his richest Jewels and Prize them as 't were the signet on 's right hand Yea to your shame and wonder he will raise The value of them above all That you can think is worthy praise Or whatsoe're thou precious cal Gold is but drosse Pearls pebbles are To what they shall be there is no compare And how can it be otherwise when they Derive their lustre from his face Not Sol himself shines at mid-day With so illustrious a grace For every grace which they have here Shal be a glory in the highest sphere I care not then how I am vilified Or what the world doth make of me Let men at pleasure me deride So that I may Gods Jewel be For though I now am trampled down Hee 'le make me up a diamond in his Crown Matth. 6.19 20. Lay not up for your selves treasures upon earth where moth and rust doth corrupt and where theeves break thorow and steal but lay up for your selves treasures in heaven where neither moth nor rust doth corrupt and where theeves do not break thorow nor steale GIve o're your greedinesse much-worms give o're And trade no more For Apes and Peacocks and such petty toyes Are nt for boyes Men that have reason and religion too Scorne so to do They count that voyage to be lost that brings No better things For all the treasures of the earth will not Make a man happy if they could be got Some think the Indies to the King of Spain Bring little gaine And that our seventh Henry was more wise Them to despise Though offered to him this we know that Prince Is poorer since And notwithstanding all his golden mines He stil declines For all those treasures that are fetcht from far When home they come are strait consum'd in war What private man can then his riches boast He that had most Amongst us when our troubles first begun Is now undone And he that since of thousands is possest Though kept in 's chest Fast under lock and key may soon be brought Not worth a groat Thus fortunes wheele is turning up and down To day 't wil smile on thee tomorrow frown Who then of this worlds wealth would guilty bee Since that we see No certaintie in riches can be had That man is mad Who seeks to hedge the Cuckoe in and stay What wil away For riches wings unto themselves do make And their flight take Like th' Eeagle towards heaven none can hold Or clip their wings though they be made of gold Be wise and lay up treasures that are sure And wil endure In spite of fraud or force Heavens the place The treasures grace When all your temporal estates do perish This stil shal flourish How much it doth all earthly goods excel I cannot tell But this I can assure you there is none Can bring it under sequestration Travel by Sea or Land go where you will 'T is with you still It costs you nought the Portage nor will make Your Back to ake No burthen 't is but full of ease and joy In the convoy Nor Soldier nor Pirate can it force Or make divorce 'Twixt you and it Once fix it in your heart And make much of it it will ne're depart But grow from Grace to Grace and never cease For to increase Bringing forth fruits of Piety and Love Making us move Fast towards our Center Heaven until our soul Knock at the pole And enter into that eternal rest With all the Blest Society of Saints and Angels this When all is done the only treasure is Matthew 10.16 Be ye wise as Serpents and harmless as doves NExt to the Angels Man created was In knowledg and all parts he did surpass The other Creatures yet is such a fool â—ecome by sin that he may go to School â—o birds and beasts the little Ant and Bee â—oth thrift can teach him and good husbandry the Serpent wisdom the Dove innocence â—hat to avoid this to give no offence That to prevent dangers before they fall And this not to revenge a wrong at all How farre is man to seek in both these kinds He by too sad experience daily finds Into a world of mischiefs he doth run Undoing others and himself undone Some Serpents craft he hath but not the love The candour and the mildnesse of the Dove That hath took wing long since and fled away Nought but the Serpents sting behind doth stay Malice enough to be reveng'd but none Of the true wisdome of the beast that 's gone My God who didst both these at first instil In Dove and Serpent let it be thy wil T' infuse them both in me that I may live So innocent as no offence I give To others and so prudent too that I May not to injuries exposed lie Matth. 11.19 Behold a man gluttonous and a winâ— bibber a friend of Publicans anâ— sinners WHy should I think to be From calumny or slander free When I see men afford No better language to my Lord My Lord though free from sin Free from detraction hath not been If to a feast he come He is a glutton called by some If wine he drink O then they crie He is a drunkard presently If he converse with common people then He 's friend to Publicans and sinful men My God since thou didst bâ—ar Such vile reproaches I 'l not fear The like nor be asham'd By wicked men to be defam'd It is the Godlies lot A blessing rather then a blot Their tongue no slander is They kill me when they kiss VVhen they revile I 'm ne're the worse VVhen they commend me 't is a curse Their commendation is a sign that I Too much with their ill courses do comply Let them then do their worst
special use him takes And his select companion makes The godly man most humble is There is no godly man but this Let me cast down my self among The ordinary common throng And with Paul make it my beliefe That I of sinners am the chief In lowlinesse of mind let me Think that all others better be So shal I with the Publican Be the more truly Christian And God to his immediate Attendance will me separate Thus the most high wil not disdain To make the lowest one of 's traine And he that doth himselfe abase Shal be prefer'd to highest place Psal. 8.4 What is man that thou art mindful of him or the Son of man that thou visitest him LOrd what is man that thou So mindful art of him Or what 's the Son Of man that thou the highest heaven didst bow And to his aide didst runne He is not worthy of the least Of all thy mercies at the best Man 's but a piece of clay That 's animated by thy heavenly breath And when that breath thou tak'st away Hee 's clay again by death He is not worthy of the least Of all thy mercies at the best Baser then clay is he For sin hath made him like the Beasts that perish Though next the Angels he was in degree Yet this beast thou dost cherish Hee is not worthy of the least Of all thy mercies hee 's a beast Worse then a beast is Man Who after thine own Image made at first Became the divels sonne by sin And can A thing be more accurst Yet thou thy greatest mercy hast On this accursed creature cast Thou didst thy self abase And put off all thy robes of Majesty Taking his nature to give him thy grace To save his life didst dye He is not worthy of the least Of all thy mercies one 's a feast Lo man is made now even With the blest Angels yea superiour farre Since Christ sat down at Gods right hand in heaven And God and man one are Thus all thy mercies man inherits Though not the least of them he merits Psalm 37.16 A little that a righteous man hath is better then great riches of the ungodly THe wicked rips Earth's bowels up to find Treasures to fil his mind Layes heaps on heaps and riches gets great store For all that he is poore Because he carries that about him which Forbids him to be rich A greedy mind that ne're can be content With that which God hath sent But by ungodly waies graspeth more gold Then 's hand or house wil hold And what he thus hath got with care and pain He fears to lose again His conscience on the wrack is all the while It wil not let him smile Or merry be since many a bitter curse Helps to fil up his purse And what by fraud or force he compasseth Shal vanish with his breath Or if unto his heire his wealth descends He lavishly it spends Consuming that in few yeers which was not In lesse then an age got Thus goods ill gather'd many times we see The owners ruine be But the condition of the godly 's such In little he hath much And though that his possâ—ssions be but smal Yet his content is all He is as rich as Crassus though but poor 'Cause he desires no more If to his mind his state he cannot fit He frames his mind to it And dines as wel upon a piece of bread As if on dainties fed As merry when he water drinks his fill As those that wine do swil As warm in poore John Baptists Camels hair As those that scarlet wear His conscience clear from sin in peace doth rest And that 's his daily feast Thus he being rich i' th' midst of povertie Nor fears nor longs to die Psalm 38.4 My iniquities are gone over my head as an heavy burden they are too heavy for me NO leprosie can be compar'd to sinne It doth so spread Without within 'T is at my heart and 't is gone ore my head No part is free from top to toe 'T is here 't is there above below Nor doth it only spread through every part 'T is heavy too And on my heart Like lead it lyes so that I cannot do The good I would the weight 's so great That under it I sink I sweat Some fools indeed whose hearts are hard as flint And neck 's as steel Take pleasure in 't And run away with 't yet no burden feel But sport make of it every day And with it as a feather play VVhiles they make light thereof O let me fear And it avoid As if it were The greatest plague by which man is destroyed The heaviest burthen that will crack My heart strings and even break my back And since I feel it such a ponderous thing A way I find That ease will bring And from this plague this burthen free my mind Upon thy back Lord let it fall That 's strong enough to bear it all PSAL. 56.8 Put thou my tears into thy bottle TO value tears I now begin Since thou Lord dost provide A bottle for to put them in That none should fall beside One drop will raise a sinner from a swound What pity 't is to spill them on the ground I spill them when I spend them on Vain trifles Worldly losses They are not worthy of a groan Much less a tear Such crosses I rather should rejoice in since they prove The tokens of my heavenly Fathers love When from the Limbeck of mine eyes My tears for sin distil That Aqua vitae thou dost prize And with 't thy bottle fill O let my tears for my sins only fall That so thy bottle may preserve them all Then of them Lord a Cordial make Against sins poisonous sting Which when my heart with grief doth ake May comfort to it bring Last a Collyrium make of them which may Take all the soreness of mine eyes away Psalm 73.35 Whom have I in heaven but thee and there is none upon earth that I desire besides thee HAve I not many things in heaven and earth Besides thee that are worth The having and desiring Have I not Some friends some riches got Some honors too and may increase my store Of all these three yet more Excuse me then my God if that I pray And covet somewhat else for to enjoy Besides these earthly there are things in heaven Which for my use are given The Sun and Moon and Stars which do dispense Their light heat influence Angels and Saints to whom in my distress May I not make addresse Excuse me then my God if I repair To these sometimes as objects of my praier Yet when I think a little better on these things I find there 's none That can compared be to thee for friends They are for private ends And do me courtesies because I do Courtesies for them too But thou a faithful friend wast unto me When by my sins I was thine enemy For Riches they are subject to decay And quickly fade