Twelve of Israel To each God gives that Portion of his Love To which by Faith he did a Title prove Each Order and Degree of Grace shall meet A Form in Glory that shall answer it He whose five Talents gain'd five more and He Whos 's Two gat Two do differ in Degree A Patron of Religion shall have Store Of Glorious Dowry's but a Martyr more A late Repentant shall have Room prepar'd But long Obedience shall have large Reward Yet tho they differ he that has the least Has what contents his Will and fills his Breast He has as much as he can grasp his soul Is complacentially stufft and full He murmurs not that other Saints have more Or He has least but rather do's adore In Love and Gratitude his God that gave What He enjoys and all his Fellows have Such are the Dignities they here abide As those to whom they 're giv'n are qualify'd All their Perfections are array'd and drest To suit those Pow'rs by which they are possest For were they modell'd more or less to crave Than by Eternal Charter they can have 'T would bate so much of Happiness 't would be The long complaint of Endless Misery If they had more than they could bear the Weight Finding no Powers to preponderate Would in the Cruelty of Kindness kill And press their Souls from Heaven into Hell. If less they'd still be hunting in Pursuit Of what must ever be forbidden Fruit. Thus disappointments would torment the Mind Finding it self for Misery design'd So that if This This also must be true That Saints are happy and unhappy too There 's none but Graduates in Grace that e're Commenced a Degree in Glory Here. But those good Works which usher'd in the Saints Now being useless are excluded hence Mercy is needless in this happy state For Misery can no Admittance get Here are no sick to visit or bemoan For all are healthy and Immortal grown Here Hospitality unpractic'd lies And Burial of the Dead for Nothing dies Here are no Foes to reconcile no Need Of Interceding They are all agreed And sure where works of Mercy find no Room Those of Necessity must never come No Heat nor Cold can ever them molest For by a wonder not to be exprest That Sun who by his Heat do's them relieve Do's by his Shadow also shelter give Thro' Exercise they neither sleep nor faint Because their Labours no Repose do's want Their hardest Work is easie to Delight And ne're impairs but re-inforces Might And as their Pow'r is able so their Will Is likewise vigorous and active still Love consecrates their Services and Zeal Gives Oil and Motion unto Duties Wheel Nor is it servile to obey the Saints While they submit are in their Elements Nay they attend Gods Will as much or more Than Artick Needles do the Magnet's Pow'r And being delighted in the Work they do They act in Rest and rest in Action too Their Wills are tun'd to Gods and all in One Do Eccho in Consent when his is known These and innumerable Millions more Of unknown Pleasures treasur'd up in store Are plentifully on the Saints bestow'd By their free-hearted openhanded God. It can't be thought with what Delight they move In endless Circles of repeated Love With what exalted Melody they sing The Song of Canaan unto Judah's King Their dissolved Souls ev'n drop in Mirth and Zeal And run as Metals melt with Lightning will Pleasure is all they know or do possess They breath no Air but Joy and Happiness Now Glory Triumphs Praise is fully Crown'd And Songs of Jubilee whose joyous sound Eccho's in Tune are ravishingly Sung By the joynt Voices of the Jolly Throng Joys do commence the Height of Heights and flow From Springs that neither Banks nor Bottom know Their Souls are lost like Things in an Abyss In Trances of ungovernable Bliss Their Joys ne're fail them but are still renew'd In endless Transports of Beatitude For this they ever bless their God and seem As sacrific'd in Flames of Love to him Let Silence speak the rest and Faith believe 'T is far beyond their Hopes what Saints receive Our Thoughts of Glory are too dwarfish still And all drop short as charmed Bullets will 'T is neither Faith nor Fancy can pretend To know its Height or Depth its Breadth or End. The only Thought that can describe this State Is to think what you cannot Think 'T is That THE REVIEW IS it thus then Is all that Reason saith As short of Heav'n as Folly is of Faith Is Glory hid from our presumptuous sight By the dark Vail of its obscuring Light Do's Reason after Tryal made confess Its Depth unfathomably Bottomless And is my Soul whom Toys and Follies please Born Heir expectant of such Joys as these Will Faith and Patience by an Act of Grace Entitle me to this Triumphant Place Farewel all sublunary Joys be gon You empty Shadows I once doted on All Earths evanid Glories I despise Here are no Objects that shall tempt my Eyes I am resolv'd to follow and pursue The Heav'n which Faith not Fancy leads me to 'T is thee O God I will design who art The Peace and Portion of my Better Part. Farewel ye fruitless Vanity of Youth The frothy Fits of Pride and Passion both Farewel those thrifty and ambitious Crimes Which pass for Virtues in these Modish Times What 's an Estate that I should toil and sweat Or pawn this Happiness to purchase it Misers are happy only in their dream When fancy'd Heaps of Riches real seem For when the Visionary cheat is o're With a rich Sigh they Sigh for waking Poor What is a Name 'T is Nothing in disguise A Bubble drest in gilded Vanities There 's Nothing solid in it to be found 'T is empty Things that yield and spread a sound The Noise that do's from Mens Applauses come Is like the empty Loudness of a Drum. These Toys so highly priz'd so much embrac't By some I once more bid Farewel in Hast Farewel my Friends and dear Enjoyments too Nay I must bid my former self adieu I have but one thing of this World to crave And that 's the parting Kindness of a Grave If I must pay for 't I 'le not give Receipt But leave my Body Pris'ner for the Debt I am design'd if nothing spoils my Aim A Pilgrim to the New Jerusalem This is my Purpose and I hope 't will stand Till I set Footing in the Holy Land Let Egypt be forgotten and forsook I wont give Sodom a recanting Look But let the progress of my Journey shew That I was willing and Believing too Mount then my Soul and make thy full Career Ne're stop till thou must stop thy Courser there Lift up thy lowly Stature now and View What 't is the Promises invite Thee to Rouze up thy self shake of these Bands that keep Thy Pow'rs entomb'd in a Lethargic sleep Get th' Innocence and Pinions of a Dove Then clip away unto thy Rest above
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
praise in him And thus his Likeness is imprest and wrought In all the Parts and Pow'rs the Saints have got 'T is stampt in lively Lines its parts are all Drawn full and perfect clear and symmetral This Image is not like an outward Grace Drawn to imbellish and adorn a Face 'T is rather radicated and innate Wholly transformative and intimate It is the Principle that do's begin Eternal Peace and Harmony within By this the Soul in Act and Habit too Is taught its Good and Glory to pursue 'T is wholly bent on Duty and do's own That Happiness and That is all but one Now holy Actings are in Flux and run Free from their Souls like Atoms from the Sun. Each Action now is ravishing and sweet Such large Rewards of Pleasure wait on it Each Saint is now so beautiful and bright He is the Object of his own Delight Ah how it do's Solace his Soul to make Surveys upon himself to search and see How the Impression and the Seal agree To see how Glory has transform'd him all How the Draught answers the Original To see himself made one with God from whom All his sweet Incomes and Illapses come How do's this heighten and enhance their Bliss What Transports do their ravisht Looks confess They tune so many Anthems that the Host Do sing till Praise be in their Numbers lost They clap their Hands and Wings for Joy and run In endless Coronets about the Throne And this they do with as familiar Ease As they themselves can think of what they please For being like Orbs all to their Stations bound God's Central Magnetism draws them round Thus they are happily employ'd and feel More Joys than we or they themselves can tell Nay they are glorified to such Degree As to affirm must needs be Blasphemy Or high Presumption had not God the Lord Strongly confirm'd it in his Sacred VVord VVho else dares say for fear he should Blaspheme That Saints are one with Christ and He with Them Or say methinks ev'n now it sounds profane They dwell in God and God in Them I mean. These Heights of Speech which Reason can't conceive And therefore is engag'd to disbelieve We question not for Faith forbids Distrust And tells us This we would believe and must God's more to Them than Souls to Bodies are Thro' him they act and ever acting were He and They truly correspond like Doves In joynt Reciprocation of Loves They possess Him and are of Him possest Thus He in Them and They in Him are blest From which uniting Juncture do's ensue Immediate Intercourse of Action too On Earth we Interceptions meet but here Their Joys with Grief ne're interrupted are Gladness is all their Soul they can't conceive What 't is to be disconsolate or grieve Their pamper'd Wills no Disappointments know They 're always pleas'd and always would be so Delights no Measure Joys no mixture bring But both from pure unwasted Fountains Spring They have a Heaven fully to enjoy Where neither Want do's pinch nor Plenty cloy Their luscious Pleasures surfeit to delight They always eat to gain an Appetite Joys in Reversion once are now possest And Love in Motion 's chang'd to Love in Rest Desire is made Delight and Hopes that were Mixt with Mis-givings have Assurance here They swim in pleasantness and always find Fresh Banquets to caress and feast the Mind Nay what yet swells their Joy they know its date Is too long-liv'd for Time to terminate They know their Sun of Glory shall ne're set They 'd lose Heav'n did they fear the losing it 'T is sure for Christ has sign'd it with his Blood And God has bail'd his Truth to make it good Their Paradise is built too firm to fall For Truth and Promises compos'd it all Love is its Cement Christ the Corner Stone And God the Basis which 't is built upon What great Additions do the Thoughts of This Bring to enlarge and stretch their Happiness To think that Heaven when Time is past and gone Shall be as new as when it first begun That when innumerable Years are past Their Joys shall still retain their Virgin Tast This makes their Mirth more pallateable still As sweet Infusions in a Cordial will To think the Feast they eat so gladly now Shall still be plentiful and pleasant too To think their Appetites shall ne're forbear To be as keen as they at present are And that their Feast shall be as luscious still And as continual as their Stomachs will This blest Assurance glads their Spirits more Than any single Joy they had before For taking thus Eternity in View Makes all its future Pleasures present too Each single Comfort carries in its Womb The luscious Foretast of still more to come One brings the relish of the rest in hand As Joshua's Grapes did of the Promis'd Land. Their Joys are ne're adjourn'd but always near For Expectation is Enjoyment here Thus all have now Eternity of Bliss And yet 't is still in prospect to possess This aggravates their Joys and scrues their Thoughts To Heights scarce vented in Seraphick Notes Each in his proper Sphere of Duty pays His honorary Tribute of Applause Just as the thankful Birds devoutly sing Their Mattins to the Goddess of the Spring Hymns and Hosannahs from all Quarters sung Is all that can be heard amidst the Throng And that must needs be an Harmonious Noise Where Mirth and Melody do counterpoise Anthems and Halelujahs rise in Swarms And sound to Praise as Trumpets do to Arms They sing so sweetly and so long they seem To be all Lungs or what 's instead of Them Ah with what Joy these jocund Spirits move Round in the Orb of God's suffusive Love Their Souls so strut with Joyfulness that some Take up ev'n Heav'n it self for Elbow-room Ointments of Love still sweetning as they fall Bedew embalm and over-run them all Thus are they all delighting in their God And gladed with their Being and Abode Glory is shar'd in common all unite In one Community of Love and Light Here are no Guardians of forbidden Fruit But Happiness is free and prostitute Yet Blessedness has its Degrees nay such As make the Blessed Spirits differ much Glory is carv'd and parcell'd out but yet Its Portions are not all commensurate Heav'n is no lawless lev'lling Anarchy But a Monarchical Theocrisie And therefore we 've no reason to conclude That all are uniformly Great or Good. In Monarchies we own the King Supream The Princes next the Viceroy next to Them And so thro' all Degrees which represent The great Decorum of a Government So Here JEHOVAH supersedes the State Beneath his Footstool Seraphims are set Next Cherubims and Thrones Dominions then So till we take the Hierarchy in As Angels so no doubt but Saints do bear Their gradual subordinations here The Elders are a Rank of Worth but yet Th' Apostles Order is transcending that For They with Christ as Sacred Writings tell Shall judge the Tribes the
But why so Careless Sluggish and remiss In Business so importunate as this Ah how I 'm plagu'd with an unwilling Mind It shews Averseness while it lags behind Dost sin or sleep out all thy Days and yet Hope to awake in this most joyous State Wouldst thou have Holiness perfected there But hate to have 't initiated here Ah Carnal Madness how its Actions run Quite to unravel what thy Hopes had spun Has he a Harvest that neglects to Sow Do Oaks arise where Acorns never grow Come then adjourn these unbelieving Dreams Earth is not such a Heaven as it seems Dost not perceive what fatal Dangers nigh Life lies most open in a closed Eye Shake off these drowsie Humors and prepare For the accounting at the Judgement Bar Don't think that Heaven is the Gift of Fate That Souls are sav'd as chance shall arbitrate But know thy Actions Good or Bad must take That Retribution which thy Judge shall make Now thou' rt Probationer for that Reward Which God has for the Virtuous prepar'd The Elements of Glory must be wrought On Earth its seed must be by Grace begot A Gracious Frame and Disposition Here Is the promotive of a Glorious There Well then be wise and busily employ The Present Seeds-time of Eternal Joy But while I reason thus my Soul do's mourn And Sighs me out this sorrowful Return My Pow'rs are feeble and my strength is weak When I 've a Will I want a Tongue to speak I look to Heaven with a longing Eye Spreading my willing Wings but cannot flye I strive to rise but my Attempts are vain Or if I do Earth tugs me down again Sometimes my Passions so pervert my Will That when I know the Good I chose the Ill. A pious Purpose seldom comes to good Some cross Temptation nips it in the Bud. Sometimes a suddain Flash of Sacred Heat Inflames my Temper to a Zealous sweat But suddainly this hasty Fit goes o're And then my Heart grows lifeless as before As a young Exhalation newly fled Aspiring upwards scorns its dusty Bed And strait means Heav'n but cooling into Rain Becomes more pursie and drops down again Just so 's my Love at its first lanching out It scorns I should its Perseverance doubt 'T is so presumptious and so hot withal 'Twont take Discretion for a Social But as it mount this short-liv'd Heat abates Passion declines and Zeal degenerates It s hasty Proffers were too nice and young To bear the Hardship of Attendance long And thus my Love unfeather'd when it fled Wants Wings to bear it whither it decreed Then Carnal Thoughts to their own Center bound First make it Earthy and then drag it down And thus my State too evidently such Calls more for Help and Pity than Reproach Poor helpless Slave to thee O Christ I cry Who had 〈◊〉 fleshly Cage as well as I. O give 〈…〉 set the Captive free And teach 〈…〉 use my Liberty Let no good 〈…〉 Praise nor Will to Love For want of thee to help Abortive prove Favour such Actions let their Progress shew Thy kind Acceptance and Concurrence too First hallow my Affections then excite Some vigorous Energy and Appetite Then give a Pow'r whose un-resisted Force May bear me out in a Religious Course First cleanse my Soul then bid thy Spirit come And make the Closet of my Heart its Home Then I shall have some previous Gusts and feel The complacential Relishes of Zeal Why should I richly starve or hungry live When Hopes and Promises such Plenty give Let me know sometimes by an Antepast How sweet Heav'ns Joys in Prelibation tast Shed some Illapses of thy Love impart Some Interviews of Glory to my Heart Why is thy Image vail'd 'T is seldom seen So much Eclipse but when Sins intervene If that 's the cause let Mercy 's Beams affright These Hellish Clouds that make so black a Night Unmask thy Visage not to weak-ey'd Sense But give my better sighted Faith a Glance Give me some Pledge by which I may be ty'd Least Carnal Scruples plead my Bargain void Nay I am apt to Merchandise away A future Kingdom for a present Toy Feed me with Promises when that won't do 't Let Faith be chewing on an Attribute Let neither Fears nor Unbelief prevent My firm Assurance nor my full Consent But let Faith guide me by a skilfull hand And guard my Passage to the Promis'd Land. Keep my Soul praying and dispose it that Its intermittent Pulse thy Praises beat Give me such Courage as shall make me fit To cope with all Discouragements I meet Such full Belief as shall not leave me Room To doubt the Truth or Worth of Joys to come Such Patience as shall make me calmly wait The happy time of my Exchange of State Till when I 'le joy in hope of what shall be Fully unbosom'd and reveal'd to me FINIS