for sinfull men Besides great God if thou as God couldst dye Which thing we must for evermore deny Yet man from death could thereby not be free For man hath sin'd and man must punish'd be Oh I soule polluting deadly sinck of sin That mankind should be so defil'd therein That God himselfe and only God remain Might not forgive nor wash away the stain No way but suffering would make full supplies Offended justice claim'd a sacrifice Man had no offering that would serve the turn Thou mightst not but thy melting heart did yern Yern Lord indeed to see hells raging fire But sawst no Sacrifice to thy desire And yet that man for ever might not burn Thou didst prepare a body for the turn Because that man no sacrifice could find Nor could thy Godhead suffer in that kind Thou didst unite by everlasting ties Thy selfe to man to be a sacrifice Thy second person and thy only Son Begotten long before the world begun Who scorning shame through all the danger ran Tooke flesh upon him and was found a man A perfect man and perfect God likewise And so became a perfect sacrifice As man for man he dy'd and lay as slain As God he conquerd death and rose again A perfect man without defect by sin A perfect God he had for ever bin Hid God-head and his manhood both intire Yet joynd in one one person we admire By thy decree he put out nature on Our nature thus exceping sin alone And living guiltlesse for himselfe therein He dying free'd the guilt of other men But being guiltlesse death was not his due Indeed respecting of himselfe t is true But he be came man onely to that end As free to free men that by sin offend But could the death of one suffice for all Yes such a one as we may truly call Both God and man yea God whose sacrifice All men nay Angells cannot equallize If Adam but a creature could so fall To bring all creatures of the world in thrall Sure the creating God made man might free All mankind fallen in a more full degree A second Adam thus is truly found To save the world the first in sin had drownd That as by one man all men guilty stood Even so by one man all might be made good First Adam falling dy'd be cause he fell The second standing dy'd of his good will A free will offering thus he freely gave Which by his free will had a power to save A free will offering Lord we truly say For of thy selfe thou hadst no debt to pay Untill it pleas'd thee to assigne thy Son To pay mans debt whom sin had quite undon Dear God that thou shouldst bring thy selfe in debt The greatnesse of it too should be no let Should'st binde thy selfe by promising a seed When thou before wert absolutely freed Could not the greatnesse of the debt to pay Those flames of love within thy breast alay When thou consider'st in thy deep fore-cast That it would cost thy dearest blould at last Lord what is man we still may aske of thee That for his sake thou could'st thous moved be That he which in thy bosome did remaine Should be a Lambe from the beginning slaine These secrets sure were hid from Adams eyes Had he knowne these he would have been more wise But we poore wretched we that with him fell Dp know and yet we doe again rebell We know and doe acknowledge as we read All this fulfill'd which was before decree'd That this eternall Seed thy Son is come By thee begotten in the Virgins wombe And by a way beyond our reach became Both God and Man a Lion and a Lambe We know againe thy Scriptures testifie How like a Lambe he did both live and dye How sinlesse blamelesse harmlesse and demure He did the malice of the world indure Number'd with sinners and yet free from spot Smitten of sinners yet he threatned not Led as a sheep did to the slaughter come Yet opened not his mouth but was as dumbe Where like a Lambe most innocent and free To cleare the guilty must condemned be And to regaine our freedome by his losse He by our sins was nayl'd unto the crosse Where wounded with those soul deep wounding spears Instead of a distilling floods of tears Heaven was set open and its fountaines ran With streams of bloud to wash polluted man Where like a lamb once offer'd up for all He drank not only vinegar and gall But dranke that bitter cup which doth therein The vialls of thy vengeance due for sin By drinking which he did asslwage thine ire He quench'd the flames of everlasting fire And purchas'd heaven to â—â—â—â—â—ate gaping hell And all for mankind out of meere good will Oh! worke of wonder can our hearts not shake At this whereat the very earth did quake The stones did rend graves let out men that slept The heavens above put out thelt lights and wept We read again when he thus like a lamb Had finish'd that for which he hither came How like a Lion he began to wake Or how like Sampson he the cords did breake And did assume his sacred corps again As one returnd with conquest from the slain Who like a Lion joy full of his prey He having took the sting of death away And made the grave a bed of sweet repose He rould away the mightie stone and rose And came and preach'd by his new preaching birth Deliverance unto captive men on earth Yea in the earth his rising from the grave Of all mens rising testimony gave This Lion now of Iudas Tribe as man Having fulfild his Priest here began To take his Royall Scepter in his hand As King to rule as God to Kings command But Lord his body now was glorifi'd He might no longer now on earth abide His Kingdome was not of this wotld not here His seat so raigne was in a higher spheare He must to heav'n into the throne of grace The earth is but his foot-stoole and too base And having fully all thy Law fulfil'd Made death the divell hell and sin to yeeld He did ride up triumphant in renown After his conquest to receive his Crowne Where thou hast crownd him with a crown more worth Then all the richest Diadems on earth With heaven it selfe and earth besides with all Those higher circles and this nether ball And with this scepter in his hand as fit Hast at thy right hand him in glory set Where he remains exalted and as God Doth rule the wicked with an iron rod But as he yet is God and man we read As man he yet for man doth intercede To thee his Father shewing of the scars Which he received in his hloody warres And thus he hath a Priest-hood yet on high Though not to suffer yet to sanctifie All our oblations and his saving Name The Alter where thou wilt accept the same Together with his Person where is kept The forme of man into thy bosome crept Whose sacred body
for faith now do meer fancie find Oyle and wine powred in THe slighting faith we must a fault confesse But if it be through ignorance the lesse God winks at times of darknesse though indeed We are not thereby absolutely free'd But when the glorious Sun-shine doth apear What can excuse us if we see not cleer No just excuse can here excusing be And yet the Sun we often clouded see So though our Sun hath chas'd our night away Yet we have cloudes still to obscure our day Our cloud of folly makes our faith retire Yet find we smoke though it do argue fire The Authors Epigram THree clouds on mankind do like mists benight And keep some blinded in the very light First ignorance then carelesnesse the third Is obstinatly to reject the word The first is most excusable of all The second binding to a harder thrall The third exceeds all and is sinfull most If not the sin against the holy Ghost Where meanes is wanting saving faith to find We must not judge there though they yet be blind For God elects and then doth faith foresee Else how could fooles and infants saved be Againe some loyter while they have the day And yet ere night do labour and have pay But such as in the vineyard being pray'd Will never labour shall be never paid The conscience wounded with sin BUt wretched I what can I doe herein How can I labour I am dead in sin Can dead men work I hear indeed the call But can but hear it cannot work at all No worke but dead works God doth such despise He doth delight a living sacrifice I doe confesse I faine would work indeed Fain would believe I fain would learn that creed But oh my sins my sins are in the way My sins doe still my confidence betray I faine would faith unto my selfe assume But sin prevents me tells me I presume Oyle and wine powred in FAith is t is true the gift of God we read God doth both worke the will and eke the deed Faith in this nature is an easie taske We can doe nothing for the same but aske The only labour now impos'd on man Is to discerne and cherish faith began Is faith Gods gift then let us beat up still He can bestow that dowry when he will Nay faith already may infused be Though scarce discerned in a small degree Then though we build not Castles in the ayre Yet we of all things are not to despair The Authors Epigram AS faith doth point at things yet unreveal'd So faith it selfe lyes in it selfe conceal'd And may be long time in the heart no doubt Before we truly finde that sewell out Besides our sins doe much obscure that light And cast a mist before our feeble sight Yea every sin when faith would else aspire Doth helpe to keep down if not quench that fire Sin is indeed faiths enemy profest And the more sin the more is faith supprest But when that faith doth once by force command Sin then doth yeeld faith gets the upper hand Faith for a time may as it were obey But in the end faith alwaies gets the day And as faith prospers by degrees gets strength So sin growes feeble pines and dyes at length Conscience wounded with sin BUt must sin dye and by degrees surcease Where faith doth live as faith doth force increase Oh wretched creature I how shall I do then I feel alas no death but life of sin Sin strives as much as ever heretofore Or rather strugles in my bosome more I doe confesse I feel my soule distrest And faine would feel fin in my soule supprest But when I labour to restrain the same It growes inraged is the worse to tame Oh sad condition oh my soule sincks here Are there no other signs of faith appear Oyle and wine powred in NO signes but such and yet soule sinck not though Sin must be kill'd but dyes not at one blow Sin in our natures will us battell give Though dying whiles we doe in nature live But sin is mostly sure most wounded when It flies on conscience most tormenteth men Are then our conscience through our sins unquiet Sin then and faith sure are in us at sight If sin within us no resistance found Sin in our conscience would delight not wound And thus by signes we secret faith may see Which without signes cannot discerned be The Authors Epigram FAith is indeed our tree of life below Which tree we only by the fruit can know Would we know then if we have faith or no The root lies hid we to the fruit must goe The fruits are feeling first sins wounding dart Next a compunction in the wounded heart From whence proceeds a diligence with speed To get a balsome for these wounds that bleed The other fruits that fruitfull faith doth beare Are ever after to be arm'd with care With zeale and wisdome to resist that foe Who at advantage had deluded so From whence proceeds a hatred unto sin Desire of vertue and delight therein All mens endeavouring that my aid supply To make faith lively and make sin to dye The Conscience wounded with sin OH blessed faith art thou the root indeed Oh would I could with blessed Job then read Thee grounded in me springs doe testifie Though through high mountains that they have supply The fountaine will be falling and the root It will be rising forth will branches shoot I feele indeed some drops of vertue flow And beare some leaves too which doe make a show But oh my conscience cannot so be quiet Such signes are frequent in the hypocrite But sin dissembled under grace is worst The tree which beares but only leaves is curst Oyle and wine powred in FAith is the fountaine whence all graces flow Faith is the root whereon those branches grow And faith gives life though it may lye as hid To all our actions or they else are dead For Christ in whom all fulnesse doth excell If we have faith by faith doth in us dwell Whether our actions though be leaves or fruit None but our conscience truly can dispute Whether the action from the heart proceeds None but the conscience that rare language reads But when the conscience hath true knowledge gain'd That then is fruit which conscience finds unfain'd The Authors Epigram MIsguided mankinde whither have we gone To set up merit in our makers Throne Faith is in Christ and Christ in faith why then Disdaine we faith adore the works of men Sin is the old man wretched and for lorne Begot in Adam in our natures borne Christ is the new Man by a second birth Through faith conceived and by grace brought forth Grace flowes from faith and faith in Christ began Both those united make but one new man And then most blest and not till then we are When in our soules we feele this infant stir Would we then prove this new man to be ours We sure must prove it by renewing powers We must be new
me to assigne Some meanest office though to feed the swine But all in vaine her greatnesse did abhor me Had neither place nor yet imployment for me But sternly told me of my sad subjection To wofull stocking whipping and correction Whereat amaz'd I soone was strucken mute Betwixt despair and growing resolute Unto the last bad counsell did intice Bad nature too but grace restrained vice The Authors Epigram DEceitfull world deciphering thy state Who can but erre thou art unto the great A flattering Syren but unto the small A very savage cruell Caniball Thou dandl'st youthfull Dives on thy knee Till with thy pleasures he inchanted be But having got the thing which thou wouldst have Thou mak'st him then thy most contented slave But if poor Lazarus seekes to be imploy'd Or sues for aide he is by thee deny'd Thou only cry'st he doth thy honour blemish Correct the rascall let the vermine famish Alas poore Lazarus of the world excluded Alas rich Dives by the world deluded Poore Lazarus starves his penurie is such Again rich Dives surfets with too much Dives VVHen as the world had given my will content Or I had given unto the world consent Her various beauties did me so inflame My very heart was ravisht with the same I freely drunk her pleasures with delight Whereof the more I drunk the more I might Her profits were unto my hot desire But as more fuell to increase that fire Her greatnesse with respect unto her honour Did for preferment make me wait upon her Her glories were so radiantly set forth I thought upon no other heav'n but earth On earth I only did set up my stay I gave my sences and affections sway And having treasure which might long endure I in that harbour thought my selfe secure Lazarus MOst wretched creature destitute of ayd Of all men loathed and in limmes decay'd I could not worke and therefore might not eat But griping hunger and inforce for meat Beg then I must and so I did indeed I made the world acquainted with my need I made my greefe apparant but alas I I must be punish'd for I had no passe Yet still I beg'd as to that thraldome ty'd Though oft upon my tender kneen deny'd I cry'd for succour and did shew my sores Where people passed and at rich mens dores Thus whiles I beg'd I got reliefe of some But without wofull begging not a crumme High wayes and hedges were any shrouds by day By night full glad to shroud my selfe in hay The Authors Epigram RIch Dives laughs and doth in pleasures swim As if they only were ordain'd for him Poore Lazarus weeps and makes this pitious mone I drinke the sorrowes of the world alone Rich Dives doth no earthly comfort misse By birth much wealth if not the world is his But silly Lazarus as it doth appeare Is borne to beg or borne to nothing heere Rich Dives heere is master and commands Much force if not too much is in his hands Poore Lazarus heere is but the scumme of all Must stoope to meane men downe to rich men fall Dives hath friends is spoken to most faire Dives the worlds owne darling yea her heire Lazarus is only left no love no friend Lazarus is only loath'd but marke the end Lazarus COnsum'd with hunger misery and care Decrep't with cold for want of rags to weare My pined corps and panting heart for ayd Began to languish and my health decay'd With many sighes in this my sad estate I got at length unto the rich mans gate Where in my anguish in my paine and griefe I hop'd for succour and I beg'd reliefe I cal'd I cry'd and as I durst I knock'd But all in vaine the rich mans gate was look'd No gate no doores no eares could open'd be His Curres did far more kindnes shew then he Whereat my heart within my wretched breast Was strucke as dead yea with meere death possest Thus left of man all mercy me denying God everliving shew'd me mercy dying Dives VVHat am I struck with melancholy's dart Come earthly comforts come revive my heart What have you lost your vertue or your skill Which wont to cure me Oh! I yet am ill What desperate change is now in my disease That now offendeth which was wont to please My earthly pleasures and my endlesse gaines Doe now disquiet me nor asswage mu paines Come make my will then of my wealth with speed For now I finde it failes me at my need And run to some Physitian with my state Some learned Doctor for my paines are great Come Doctor come my sicke estate behold Come shew your learning give some ease for gold Some present helpe unto my heart apply A world for life helpe helpe alas I dye The Authors Epigram IF Dives surfets and grown sicke is sad No earthly aid is wanting can be had His friends abound Physitians dare be bold To strive sometimes beyond their rules for gold But wofull Lazarus of the world neglected Lies sicke forsaken harbourlesse rejected No friends to chear no physicke for his good He surfets not but rather sterves for food Rich Dives now he feels unto his pain That all his wealth yea all the world is vain When sicknesse comes their sweetnesse is but small When death their hony then converts to gall Poore Lazarus all his life time in distresse Whose very face deciphers wretchednesse When sicknesse comes it makes him death require When death it gives him what he doth desire Dives O Death most cruell I thou hast struck my heart O wretched body I thou and I must part Thou to a rotting resting place a while I to the ruefull dungeon of exile Thou now a carkaise I a cursed soule Beset with fiends which will have no controule Out of thy prison now I see full cleare Most ugly Divels as they are appeare They seaze upon me with infernall spite They tell me I belong to them by right I have beene by them many yeeres imploy'd Although they by me have not beene discry'd And therefore now I must with them away They long have wayted but have now their prey They must unto proud Lucifer return With me that monster doth in fury burne Lazarus LOng wish'd for day most welcome death to me Which sets me thus from all my sufferings free My wither'd corps now rest in hope to rise My weary'd soul is now on wing and flies Most happy change I how is my chance amended On earth cast out with Angels now attended Who all my life did succour me distrest And now at death will carry me to rest In soule I meane which from my body freed Now viewes those Angels as they are indeed Which sight excels all earthly joyes as far As doth the Sun the most inferiour Star Which glorious spirits with delight inspir'd To see my soule thus out of thrall retir'd Doe in their fiery chariots now of love Thus in my spirit early me above The Authors Epigram HEere I must
I might not taste But when I in my body shall be grac'd To sit in heaven where none but Saints are plac'd And at most sacred invitations given Shall taste the Supper of the Lambe in heaven My taste shall then in relishing be skil'd And with each sweet distinguished be fill'd Yea taste the sweetnesse of those streames of bloud Those heavenly Fountaines which on earth were shed The Authors Epigram DIves on earth with delicates was fil'd We taste all dainties that the earth can yeeld Dives did in excesse of liquor sin We tun down barrels drown our selves therein Dives thus drinking thought not on the poore We are so drunken we forget them more Dives in hell must therefore suffer need Yea hellish woes then how shall we be freed But once poore Lazarus who on earth distrest Was both with hunger and with thirst opprest Yet in his conscience then injoy'd that feast In which we famish or much fast at least He now in heaven already hath that store We never tasted and shall yet have more For which he sought to which we make no haste For which he long'd in which we feel no taste Dives MY sense of smelling which was once so nice Each stincke offended it but stincking vice I stopt my nostrils and I shut my doores To shut out Lazarus with his fest'red sores Which ayrie sense refresh'd my other powers By sweet perfumes and odoriferous flowers Extracting thence such savours of delight As fed that most attractive appetite This sense in the infecting fogs of hell Shall suck most deadly savours by the smell And stead of flowers and sweet perfuming shall Be fed with fumes of sulphur boild in gall Besides the loathsome savours in this den Of plagued poyson'd and tormented men The stincke of fiends and divells unto me Is now most grosse and shall more grievous be Lazarus MY smelling did on earth some comfort give When I was forc'd Camelian like to live But sweet perfumes and powders vainly spent Made me not proud to make the world a sent Barns styes and stables and full glad of those Were my persumed lodgings of repose My empty stomack of this sense annoy'd My stincking sores my empty stomack cloy'd But when my body shall exalted be To reigne in heaven from all corruption free Where all things are most sweet and purely try'd This sense shall then be sweetly satisfi'd This sense shall then have the preheminence Made of the five the most reviving sense If senses then such instruments shall prove By sucking in some living ayre above The Authors Epigram IF Dives now could but those dainties smell He tasted here he would give thanks in Hell We taste like dainties double if not thrice And yet ungratefull in a Paradise But Dives who here thought not at his board Of God hath now what Divels will afford We oft forget both God and eke our selves Then what hereafter can we looke for else If Lazarus were on earth againe no doubt He would but of our sweetest odoures flout We with our seeming sug'red sweets in love Are but in jest with sweetest joyes above Lazarus did wisely send up ere he went His suits as incense which now yeeld him sent We if we will not of the like despair Must send up first a savour sweet by prayer Dives MY sense of feeling which on earth was that I nurs'd most gently as a tender brat No care was lacking to preserve that sense From the sustaining of the least offence This sense forsooth might not endure the winde I little felt the smart in any kinde Of want of woe of sicknesse or of sin Within my selfe much lesse in other men But when my soule ascending on a chaine Shall fetch my body hither from the slaine I here in hell â—hall in that tender part Be most tormented feel the greatest smart My body here fast bound in fetters lying Shall tortur'd be in flames of sulphur frying My soule most fully then shall feel the sting Of sin that serpent in my conscience wring Lazarus FRe I was borne within my mothers wombe My sense of feeling suffer'd in that tombe And only sadly comming forth that cage I in that part did first salute earths stage And in that part I panted out my breath Till I was taken off that stage by death A wretched life insu'd a painfull birth Most wretched painfull Tragedy on earth But as my soule which was on earth distrest Is now in heaven return'd unto its rest So shall my body breaking ope its grave Ascend up hither from that silent cave Where it shall feel no hunger cold nor smart But heavenly fulnesse and content of heart My feeling sense to make its fulnesse measure Shall here be only sensible of pleasure The Authors Epigram LAzarus was here most patient in distresse We murmure yea seem often mad in lesse Lazarus was not here with his sin diquieted We feel not that or are with that delighted But Lazarus now doth feel his soule at rest Our soules alas not yet with sin distrest But would we finde what Lazarus now doth feel Our hearts must first be gentle here not steel Dives here might not feel the least annoy But Dives he had there for here his joy If here we feel not penitentiall griefe We shall feel desp'rate with the damned theefe But Dives in his feeling sense in hell Is now most plagu'd which plagues shall yet excell If we here make that tender sense our god It will in hell be our most torturing rod Dives MY sense of hearing which was once most nimble To heare each Syrens sugred tongue dissemble Each sound of pleasure musick sweet and worse Hells language people swear blaspeme and curse But when the cry of Lazarus full of care Did pierce the heavens it could not make me heare Nor could those voyces sent from heaven by preaching Repent repent awake me with their teaching This sense in hell instead of musicke sweet When all the damned shall together meet Shall be compell'd to heare me helpe to make A cry in hell would make the earth to shake We desp'rate creatures roaring in hells flame The damned divells raging in the same Gods voice of justice like most hideous thunder Above us with his vengeance boyling under Lazarus MY hearing sense I once did exercise With the sad ecchoes of my childrens cries My beating heart was in my bosome stung To heare those infants cry for food so young Besides the sad heart-breakings at the doore Of rich men rating of my children poore With churlish checks and threats of further griefe Instead of yeelding comfort or reliefe This sense in heaven shall no such language heare But come you blessed kindest welcomes there No churlish motions ever shall repell My suits there granted Dives is in hell This sense in heaven to musick shall attend Which earthly senses can not apprehend For ever ravish'd with those glorious Three To heare how sweetly they in one agree The Authors Epigram
into natures book Run to thy mothers long made grave and look If 't be not earth thou cam'st from whence t is plaine That earth which once did live may live again What think'st thou of thy rising from thy bed Fore-tells not that thy rising from the dead In bed thou dost in earth thou shalt but sleep In both in darknesse though in earth most deep Besides when slumber doth possession take Of senses yet the soule is then a wake The soule as it can never dye at all So never sleeps though kept by sleep in thrall God could have made us when we were in making Have stood in need of neither sleep nor waking Had he not purpos'd by them to explain Our sleep in death and life from death again The deepest darkensse of the longest night At length doth vanish by the morning light Which shewes at last the resurrection day Shall chase the night of fatall death away The entercourse of autumn and the spring The winter and the summer teach this thing When plants by a vicessitude we know Both live and dye and dye and live in shew And as the seed which in the earth is sowne Like man it to its deeper furrowes thrown As dying there produceth an increase So man doth but refine there not surcease Much like the Phaenix from whose ashes breed As men much learned give us leave to read Another Phaenix to supply that roome By sun-beams dooting on her lofty tombe But yet if yet thy heart be such a flint That all this shewne takes no impression in 't But still in heart thou say'st there is no God Though with thy tongue thou dar'st not for his rod Let me yet put one question to thee more Yet to illustrate what is said before What say'st to this then sith thou art so evill To doubt of God what think'st thou of a divell Is there think'st thou no divell and no hell Thou maist deny them out of doubt as well For this is certain this from sense doth flow No God above no divell then below But this the grossest heathen doe admit They by experience and meer natures wit Discerne a power beyond the power of men Which power hath by them still admired been But in thy conscience were not such a spark Why shouldst thou be so fearfull in the darke Were there no evill spirits to be seen What do such fears then in thy fancie mean In times of danger eminent t is known There 's no mans heart more shaken then thine own Strange apparitions gastly forms and such Strike trembling in thee nothing else so much From whence proceeds those hidious shapes and sights Those hollow voices and those walking lights Which do so oft in darknesse us affright But from the Prince of darknesse in the night If this suffice not but art still in doubt I know no further meanes to help thee out Unlesse that it were lawfull in this kind To run to Endor to suffice thy mind To such as have some spirits at command Such could most clearly let thee understand Resolve thy doubt and make it to thee cleare There are such fiends yea make the same appear If all this be too little to suffice Then sure there is some divell in thine eies Who keepes thee blinded that thou canst not see Those certain truths which thus decypherd be But oh vain Atheist rest not in this state Nay rest thou canst not t is so desperate Then strive against it exercise thy strength By use it may grow operative at length There yet is eye salve to bewray this mist If that thou dost not wilfully resist There is a sacred fountaine set apart One drop whereof would molifie thy heart Despise not then those soveraign streames below Which down do from that sacred fountain flow Those healing drops which on the crosse were shed Distil'd in Scriptures from the fountaines head Then bring thy heart that cistern into frame And let those conduits run into the same That still thou mayst by turning of the cock Such fearefull doubts those brasing doores unlock Thy heart no dout in doubts the harder growes Because the milk which form the Scripture flowes Which is most pretious to dissolve such flint Is not apply'd unto that Adamant At Scriptures breasts disdaine not sucking then There 's milke for babes and meat for strongest men There 's meat for Saempson sweet meat too not gall And hony for the fainting Son of Saul There doth that tree of heav'nly knowledge grow Which God hath pleas'd to plant with men below Another tree of knowledge shall be given More glorious too but that shall be in heaven But further knowledge then is here reveal'd The more thou seekst the more t is here conceal'd And that no doubt hath been a reason why Thou dost those truths which are reveal'd deny There 's nothing hid that shall not be made known But here 's the height of thy ambition shown Thou here wouldst to that height of knowledge clime Which is reserv'd untill another time Thou here in all things much imperfect art And therefore here thou canst but know in part But when thy cloud of flesh be done away Things secret shall be manifest as day But wouldst thou wisely harbour a desire To view those secrets Angels do admire Then first beleeve for God hath made it plain We must beleeve before we do obtain Heaven is a dowery God hath to bestow Faith 's our assurance of the same below Strive then for faith thou hast a curious eye Nothing but faith can give thee full supply Faith in this vain and emptie vale I mean By faith possessing things are yet unseen That so in fine when fruitful faith shall cease Thou mayst in glory reap thy faiths increase In heaven injoy that height of joy which here Doth only to the eye of faith appear Yea foolish man couldst thou become so wise As to beleeve a heaven above the skies And such a God a gentle God therein As for his Sons sake will remit thy sin Thou thither likewise should'st be rais'd in fine For there the faithfull shall in glory shine And those same hidden secrets which have bin Thy tortures here should most delight thee then The world to come which here thou canst not view Thou there should'st finde unto by comfort true The God above which here thou dost deny Thou there should'st see and His eternity How God should be without beginning here Confounds thee quite but there it doth appeare How spirits do subsist and what they are Thou know'st not here but 't is discover'd there And how Gods word should make a world alas Such hidden things do humane sense surpasse But when that heav'n shall humane sense refine Or rather humane sense shall prove divine God with such secrets then will thee acquaint If here by faith thou wilt be first his Saint But yet if yet thou beest a sleep so fast That all this will not rouse thee up at last But still thou
Palace of his soule a doore To keep in vertue and to shut out sin Were then set ope to let that traytor in Which traytor enter'd struck with sin as dead The whole man from the feet unto the head Who to thy foe thus being brought in thrall Lost both thy image and himselfe withall Nay yet lost more for by this cursed deed Losing himselfe he lost his wretched seed He lost thy image lost thy love thy grace He lost himselfe his happinesse and race Oh fearfull losse and eke oh fearfull gain Thou wert depos'd thy enemy did raigne Thy image lost the divell put on his Heaven was exchang'd for hels most deep abysse Lord what a heavy hidious change was here Lord how did man then in thy sight appear Lord with what patience couldst thou then abide To see the divell so in triumph ride Or Lord what pity in thy bowels boyl'd To see poore Adam so for ever foyl'd To see poore Adam thus undone by theft Thus of his jewells of thy grace bereft Cast out by thee of Paradise below And left unto the malice of his foe Nay foes indeed and a most potent troup The creatures all who were ordain'd to stoup At Adams beck now in rebellion rose The elements they all became his foes Which were his friends and all at peace before The winds to rage the sea began to roare The fire to burn and which of all is worst The earth for his offence became accurst Oh! Adam Adam though we may refuse As we are sons our father to accuse Yet being wounded by thy deadly blow We cannot but lament thy overthrow Hadst thou in tryall nor been over come Though we thy seed who should succeed thy room Had fallen our fall it had been small to thine Thy fall as head hath tainted all thy line Thou art our Head and we thy members be Thou art condemned how can we be free Had but a member only fault bin A member only should have dy'd therein But through the one death raigned over all Death by thy death brought all to death in thrall Death temporall that no mortall shall divert Death too eternall is our due desert Lord most immense in mercy yet so pure Thy sight can no polluted thing indure How could thy mercy and thy justice meet In viewing Adam thus from off his feet But how can we thy mysteries discusse Whose wayes are so past finding out by us Thou in thy wisdome it is so divine Couldst make thy mercy through thy justice shine When thou whose wayes cannot be understood Saw'st Adam thus polluted in his blood As Lord thy justice did his sentence give Of death thy mercy said unto him live Sure 't was the time of love when thou pass'd by For Adam only had deserv'd to dye That justice did injoyne but live again Thy mercy only did that musicke strain Oh! heavenly musick harmony most blest Thus peace and justice truth and mercy kist Justice by death thus satisfi'd in striving Mercy againe thus answer'd by reviving But Adams soule did first to sin consent His body guilty as an instrument Could then the death of Adams body serve When Adams soule did greatest death deserve No no alas that cannot serve the turne Although the body should for ever burne In flames of hell it could not satisfie Thou hast pronounc'd the soule that sins shall dye Most gracious God and great beyond conceit How could poore Adam beare this heavy weight Poore feeble fearfull faint and bending reed Support a burden infinite indeed Here was indeed the depth of miseries Adam must dye but death would not suffice His fact so foule and infinite had bin Death temp'rall could not expiate his sin Justice must yet be satisfi'd by dying Death temp'rall it could not be satisfying Adam must therefore suffer death eternall Or rather live a death which is infernall Lord thus we finde and make confession must Thy wayes are right our condemnation just We thus behold thy streams of justice flowing Most justly to our utter overthrowing But though thy justice seem'd to goe before Yet thou hadst mercy treasur'd up in store To free those slaves that Adam brought in thrall That so thou might'st have mercy upon all Well may we say love in thy bosome burn'd And bowells in thee of compassion yern'd How like a deare and most indulgent father Or like a melting hearted mother rather Who when her infant hath receiv'd some harmes Then most bemoanes it in her tender armes Even so thy goodnes did thy love bewray In that thy mercy could not brook delay But in the instant whiles the wound did bleed Prescrib'd a plaister for the wounded seed And mov'd with fury against Adams foe Who like a serpent had betray'd him so Not only for the present curs'd him for 't But thence for ever made his chaine more short And told that Serpent that the womans seed Which he had so much shaken in that reed That it should unto such a Cedar grow As should infine his Kingdome overthrow Oh! pretious promise drop'd from thine own pen Peace upon earth and good will unto men Both oyle and wine to heale the wounded man Drawn from that wounded good Samaritan Oh pretious promise by which Adams wife Late of his death becomes his means of life Oh pretious promise and for ever sweet By which divided heaven and earth did meet But Lord what seed what heavenly seed was this Whose promise only could afford such blisse Seed heavenly yea seed wonderfull indeed On which our fathers many years did feed To life yea unto life eternall while This seed it seem'd was buried in the soyle But when this promise should become fulfil'd Lord what a harvest must this seed then yeeld But when this seed converteth into bread It must give life sure to the very dead This did exceed the Manna which was given This was the bread that did come down from heaven The bread of God yea very God indeed Thy selfe oh Lord was promis'd in this seed A bread ordain'd before the world began To save the world to give new life to man And when the fulnesse of the time expir'd Thou did'st fulfill what man had long desir'd Mad'st that appear in substance to be true Which was before but shadow'd to the view But oh thou wonder-working God above Whose justice thus but amplifies thy love Who but thy selfe could have by searching pry'd How mercy could have justice satisfi'd But who but thee could ever have been brought To work a wonder as this worke was wrought That thou whose justice did mans sentence give Shouldst in thy mercy die that man might live And yet we do unto our comfort find Thou in thy mercy wert to man thus kind Rather then mankind should for ever lie In chaines of death the God of life would die But gratious God how can this granted be Thou art a spirit form corruption free The fountain too of life it selfe how then Canst thou be said to dye