A Prayer-Song, Poem 27 – Poem 33
Pſal. 22.
9 But thou art he that took me out of my mothers womb: thou waſt my hope, when I hanged yet on my mothers breſts.
10 I have been left unto thee ever ſince I was born: thou art my God, even from my mothers womb.
1.
LOrd, when the Oſtrich leaves her forlorn eggs,
Nor ey'd nor watch'd,
They by the ſand are hatch'd:
The young ſoon uſe their wing-born leggs,
And for themſelves with eager ſpeed can prey:
But Lord, thou foundſt me in worſe caſe then they.
2.
The Halcyon can promiſe on the flood,
That South nor North
Rage, till ſhe have brought forth
Among the waves her ſea-born brood:
But I was ſent, young far on ſea and land,
But found thus good to me nor ſea nor ſand.
3.
I was caſt forth, like an expoſed Elf,
As ſoon as born,
Moſt wretched and forlorn:
Until thou took'ſt me up thy ſelf.
As if my Parents knew no other debt,
They ow'd their childe, but onelyonly to beget.
4.
Like Moſes, young, expoſed to the floods,
Where I might weep
To the remorſleſs deep:
Left ſince, like Iſhm'el, to the woods
Of this uncertain world, where I aſide
Might wander, if thou hadſt not been my guide.
5.
And as the earth (held by thy ſecret hand)
Hangs in the air;
There is no thred or hair
Supports the ſmalleſt duſt or grain of ſand:
So while ſome wonder how it is they fall,
To me 't is ſtrange, Lord, how I ſtand at all.
6.
Bleſt God, that took'ſt me from my mothers womb,
My heritance
Here, is not worth a glance;
In length and breadth all but a Tomb:
For as th' haſt wean'd me ever ſince my birth,
So ſtill th'haſt wean'd me from my mother earth.
7.
Yet though my friends have thruſt me from my right,
As from their neſt
The Eagles do deveſt
Theirs who can't dare the ſun by ſight:
Yet this is ſtill my glory, in all things,
Th' haſt born me th'row, as 't were on Eagles wings.
8.
Wealth is no needful adjunct unto grace.
If riches are
The true undoubted ſtayre
That lead to glory, Jacob 's caſe,
In purchaſing his bleſſing, were but poor:
For he liv'd mean, while Eſan ſwell'd with ſtore.
9.
The bleſſing ſtood not in the promis'd land
So much indeed,
As in the promis'd Seed
Bequeath'd by Iſaac's bleſſing hand.
God's right-hand-bleſſing's ſeldom clods of earth,
But ſuch as fear invaſion, plagues, nor dearth.
10.
Yet here each birth-right's not a Type of heaven,
As Canaan was
T' Abraham 's ſeed; but as
Th' earth 's curs'd oft, as a curſe 't is giv'n:
But ſeldom (for w' are oft deceiv'd in gheſſing)
The Earneſt or th' Appendix of a bleſſing.
12.
Lord, be 't all as thy wiſdom hath decreed,
Since th' art my portion,
I fear no ſuch extortion;
I paſs by all, and bid God ſpeed.
Let them go view their Landskips, while that I
Do with a better birth-right pleaſe mine eye.
Job 7.
20 I have ſinned; what ſhall I do unto thee, O thou preſerver of men?
1.
LOrd, I have ſin'd: O weighty words! what more
Could Hell, if it repentant were, deplore?
It could but ſay, VVe merit thus to die:
Ev'n ſo do I confeſs, ev'n ſo have I.
Yet though my ſins do bear an equal bulk
VVith ſome of Hell's, unequal is our mulct.
2.
Lord, I have ſin'd; to tell how much, there wants
A ſea of Ink, as many Pens as plants
Grow on the teeming earth; and ſheets as large
As are the heavens, to contain the Charge:
As many Items to the Charge amount,
VVhichWhich none but thy Arithmetick can count.
3.
Lord, I have ſin'd: what ſhall I ſay? O brief
Yet full expreſſion of ſin and grief!
Thus humble Penitents vent much in little,
VVhile Phariſees yet vent their frothy ſpittle
In ſelf-applauſe. But in my grief this clauſe
I'll onelyonly vent, and then ſit down and pauſe.
4.
Lord, I have ſin'd; when not? in life and function:
VVhat time or age can plead a free diſ-junction?
Not childhood: for ſin ſoon outgrew that age,
And prov'd a Graduate in my Pupillage:
So that I juſtly may lament, that ſin
And I were born unſeparable twin.
5.
Lord, I have ſin'd: Nay, ſleep, that locks my ſence,
Can hardly bat that bold intruder thence:
Corruption ſtill her centinel doth keep;
What Lullabee can rock her watch aſleep?
Poets may feign at will; but ſhe nor weighs
Dull Morpheus nor his bunch of leaden keys.
6.
Lord, I have ſin'd: but if I once were clear,
VVhen wheels about that ſame Platonick yeer?
That I might hope, when my (now-tainted) duty
Might innocent appear in perfect beauty.
O for that Anniverſe, to ſet me free;
Hence would I fetch my bleſſed Epoche.
7.
Lord, I have ſin'd: but were I free, where's found
That happie and no leſs then holy ground?
O might I know the place, there would I raiſe
And dedicate a Temple to thy praiſe.
But thy bleſt winde, that breathes at liſt his grace,
Can breathe his Zephyres here in ev'ry place.
8.
Lord, I have ſin'd: and for my Irritavies
If thou ſhouldſt not vouchſafe me true Peccavies,
I ſtill ſhould ſin: let others uſe their mind,
My El'gies burthen ſtill ſhall be, I've ſin'd.
And ſince I can't weep for each ſin; till death,
I've ſin'd ſhould be the burthen of each breath.
Mark 7.
21 For from within, out of the heart of men, proceed evil thoughts, adulteries, fornications, murthers,
22 Thefts, covetouſneſs, wickedneſs, deceit, laſciviouſneſs, an evil eye, blaſphemy, pride, fooliſhneſs.
1.
IF could ſome Delius with divided hands
Sound the Seas depth, and on his ſouls recorder
Imprint the wracks, huge rocks, and heaps of ſands,
Which there lie ſcatter'd in confus'd diſorder:
This could he do, by Natures's ſtrength or art,
Yet none could ſound the bottom of the heart.
2.
Should ſome Ship-maſter make's fore-ſplit the Probe
Of Nature's ſecrets, and ſo bring to view
Land to make up a perfect earthly Globe,
Which Drake nor Kit Columbus never knew:
Yet, as in the great world, ſo in his own,
He muſt confeſs there 's yet much land unknown.
3.
The heart's a Sea for depth, like Sodom-lake,
Dead, thick, & groſs; in it will ſink no good:
Th' hearts land 's unknown; wherein what monſters make
Their hides and dens, few yet have underſtood.
The centre may be pureſt earth; yet th' heart
The bodies centre's the corrupter part.
4.
Our heart-ſtrings are the cords of vanity;
Their caverns are the devil 's lurking-holes;
No fit Triangle for the Trinity;
An habitation more fit for moles:
Their cauls the veils of damn'd Hypocriſie.
Thus is ſum'd up man 's wretched Majeſtie.
5.
If thus the Sun within our firmament
Into a Meteor degenerate;
If thus the King within our continent
Let 's ſin and luſt uſurp his Royal ſtate:
If thus corrupted be the bodies leaven,
How ſhall we manchets be prepar'd for heaven?
6.
Whe'er Hell be in th' earth's centre, I ſuſpend;
But in man 's centre 's couch'd an Hell of ſin:
Nor do ſo many lines to th' centre tend,
As in a wicked heart fiends make their Inne:
Which yet moſt know no more, then can be found
Where Arethuſa windes beneath the ground.
7.
Lord, ſhew me in the Mirrour of thy Law
The horrour of my heart by bright reflection:
In that thy Glaſs, there falſhood is nor flaw:
Though wickedly ſome ſcorn its true direction,
And whip the Tutor for his diſcipline;
Yet Lord direct me by that Glaſs of thine.
8.
Oh daign my heart with graces to perfume,
And th'rowly purge it from each noiſome vapor,
Whoſe rank infection choaks each neighb'ring room,
And ſtrives to damp my ſoul's aſpiring tapor.
O make my heart-ſtrings, Lord, thy cords of love;
So mine according to thy heart ſhall prove.
1 Pet. 4.
18. If the righteous ſcarcely be ſaved, where ſhall the ungodly and the ſinner appear?
1.
IS then with fraud
The way to heaven ſtraw'd?
And is it granted that our race
Is ſcattered with caltraps ev'ry pace?
Which if but trod on, pierce us to the ankles;
And more, no wound they give, but rankles:
So that it ſeems a venter
At all to enter.
The way to heav'n's not dam'd with trifling burs,
But block'd and barricado'd with demurs.
2.
The world's no leſs
Than a vaſt wilderneſs;
Whence if heav'ns guides lead us not home,
Officious hell will ſeem to lend us ſome:
His fiery pillar of falſe joy he grants,
His cloudy one of Ignorance.
But to theſe who confides
To be his guides,
Is ſtraightway ſwallow'd in ſome dang'rous gulf,
Or prey'd by ſin, as by ſome bear or wolf.
3.
Who look well in 't,
The world's a Labyrinth;
At each whoſe Maze who ever touch'd,
But found that damned Minotaur lay couch'd;
Who takes each yeelding for a firm contract,
And proudly will each grace exact,
Till he have all deflowr'd,
And all devour'd.
Let not thy Theſeus Lord, be too remiſs:
My ſoul, my Ariadne, ſhall be his.
4.
Is then each path
All thus ſcatter'd with wrath?
We hop'd, amongſt the Jewiſh ſcorns,
Chriſt from theſe ways had fetch'd his crown of thorns;
And from theſe Turn-pikes and theſe armed Rails,
Had daign'd to take his Croſs and Nails;
And hence had fetch'd that dart
Which pierc'd his heart;
And triumph'd had in conqueſt of theſe ſpoils,
And purg'd his high-way of theſe ſnares and toils.
5.
W' are not withſtood
By eaſie fleſh and blood;
But Satan with our weakneſs wreſtles,
The Prince of th' air which in our Region neſtles:
Nay we with theſe, like Gibellines and Guelves,
Do ſide and fight againſt our ſelves;
Fraud's Convoy, and Deceit
Th' Inne where we bait.
Though Chriſt have bought us heaven, without doubt
We both muſt ſue for it, and fight it out.
6.
No Saint nor Martyr
Can boaſt of other Charter;
All at this Croſs have Inn'd, as well
As Chriſt that went that way to heav'n by hell.
Vertue's a narrow mean betwixt two Vices;
On each hand are deep precipices:
Let's take (if guide we lack)
That bloody track
Which iſſu'd from that bleſſed Roe's five wounds,
When pierc'd and purſu'd by the Jewiſh hounds.
7.
It can't be wav'd,
The righteous ſcarce are ſav'd:
Shall not the wicked then be ſwallow'd
Up in the mire wherein they thus have wallow'd?
If trouble ever do attend on grace,
Shall peace wait on a wicked caſe?
If ſcarce be ſav'd the juſt,
Shall pride and luſt?
If thus the caſe ſtood with that verdant tree,
How ſhall the ſtubble and the chaff go free?
8.
In ſack and down
All thoughts of hell they drown:
Ev'n ſo th' Hart ends the controverſie,
When he, purſu'd, flies to the Hunter 's mercy.
Ev'n ſo the Sparrow, by the Falcon chas'd,
Did to the Stoick's boſome haſte.
Each path with pleaſure's pav'd,
With beauty grav'd,
Until that footing fails them ere they think;
Oh then how quickly into hell they ſink!
Grief for not grieving.
Pſal. 126.
6 They that ſow in tears, ſhall reap in joy.
7 He that now goeth on his way weeping, and beareth forth good ſeed, ſhall doubtleſs come again with joy, and bring his ſheaves with him.
1.
IF ever any thing be heard or ſeen
That might provoke or raiſe my jocund ſpleen;
How could I wiſh my lungs were made of buff,
For claſps to hold me till I've laugh'd enough?
But godly grief cannot one tear extort;
As if my ſenſes all were made for ſport.
2.
Have I ſuſtain'd a trivial loſs? how apt
My active ſenſes are for to be rapt
To th' higheſt ſtrain of paſſion? I can gloſs,
Heav'n never could impoſe a greater croſs.
My floodgate-ſenſe can ſtand wide ope at thoſe;
But godly grief's againſt the ſtream; they cloſe.
3.
If that I hear Death's univerſal doom
Hath on my friend to execution come;
Methinks then had I at his funeral
All Argus eyes, I could ſupply them all:
But when one tells me what a Lethargie
Hath ſeiz'd my ſoul, I can nor moan nor cry.
4.
If little bigger then an atome fall
Into my eye, it ſmarts, though ne'er ſo ſmall:
But what's an atome to a mountain? ſuch
Like ſins I bear, yet ſtart not half ſo much.
Why have I not within, through conſcience,
A ſenſe of pain, as outward pain of ſenſe?
5.
If that the clouds ſome foggie miſts have ſuck'd,
They'll ſhow'r them back; what can their courſe obſtruct?
The Moon by tides doth purg the frothy main;
The poiſon'd Spring doth clear it ſelf again:
Yet I'm ſin-tainted, and what motions urge me
Unto repentance, that ſhould clear and purge me?
6.
Were I to live the old Methus'lem 's yeers
A living Conduit of inceſſant tears,
I could not vie a tear for ev'ry ſin;
So vain and fooliſh all my youth hath bin.
Yet th'earth to bear our villanies may groan;
But I am dead and ſenſleſs of mine own.
7.
My Conſcience, Lord, though I it light eſteem,
Doth with a ſecret iſſue cloſely teem:
Oh let her pregnant womb be now diſcloſed,
Till that diſeaſe or age have incompoſed
My ſenſe. I now ſhould court it as my friend,
Which then, perhaps, may prove my foe i'th'end.
8.
Lord, wound me, or I die: for I, although
My caſe be deadly, am not ſick enough:
O let me know I'm taken in Death's jaw,
Till I am quite digeſted in her maw.
For if any Conſcience, like a Lethargie,
Stir not till th' hour of death, I ſadly die.
Epheſ. 4.
30 Grieve not the holy Spirit of God, whereby ye are ſealed unto the day of redemption.
1.
GRieve not the Spirit! can it be believ'd
The Spirit can be griev'd?
Thought we God, void of paſſion, could be vext.
Except we ſaw this text?
When Chriſt indeed was heres in fleſh confin'd,
He wept and griev'd we finde;
But thought we that a Dove which hath no gall
Could once be griev'd, at all?
Oh I ſhould groan 't, not meaſur 't in an Ode;
Sin grieves the holy Spirit of my God.
2.
Who would reſiſt that ſacred Dove that pecks
The conſcience with checks?
Who would reſiſt that Dove that helps to grone
In an accepted tone?
Who would reſiſt that Dove whoſe harmleſs beak
Inſtructs us how to ſpeak?
Who would reſiſt that Dove whoſe in'cent feet
Shew to walk as is meet?
Let not this Dove back to the Ark, and grieve
That we on earth will none of him receive.
3.
Here let him bring his Olive-leaf and reſt,
And neſtle in our breſt.
O! never let us at his gracious billing
Once ſhew our ſelves unwilling,
Until we new begotten are, and breed
Through his eternal ſeed.
O! let us never hence reſiſt this Dove,
This bleſſed Bird of love.
This Dove at Mahomets ear never bill'd,
Though ſo he faign the Alcharon inſtill'd.
4.
Think we, becauſe ſome ſay, Doves have no gall,
God's vengeance feign'd at all,
That we thus with his Spirit dare to dally,
As with our Friend or Ally?
Such wanton cruelty to Chriſt we dealt
When he among us dwelt;
Such entertainment he whiles here receiv'd,
When he among us griev'd:
VVe could him to no other Inne bequeath,
But to his Grave; and to no Hoaſt, but Death.
5.
But let not ſin uſurp us; but the Spirit,
His right in us inherit:
And ſince he made the heart, let none abridge
Him of that priviledge.
O let not ſin be Porter ſtill, which mocks
His ſweet, his Patient knocks.
Delay, like that falſe Brother, cries, I go,
But means no leſs then ſo.
VVho but a begger for a ſlender pittance,
VVould with ſuch patience dance for an admittance?
6.
O let us open, leſt his wrath break through!
VVe are not thunder-proof:
O let us open to his calls! ſuch knocks
Ev'n might awake deaf rocks:
VVho might (enamour'd on his gracious gifts)
Divide their flinty clifts,
Leſt he appear next in a Vulture 's ſhape,
T' act on our ſouls a rape:
Leſt with his lightning he our bodies harrow,
Incinerate our bones, and drink our marrow.
7.
Lord, I am dull; O let thy Spirit pierce
Way for a quick commerce.
'Tis wholeſome Phyſick, Lord, to be ſoul-ſick;
Health, to be pierc'd at quick.
When ere thou com'ſt, I'm either gone from home,
Or thou before I come:
Next, if deny'd, break th' houſe, 't is thine, and I
Allow the Burglary;
And let thy holy winde, with quick inqueſt,
Enter, and raiſe his Earthquakes in my breſt.
8.
Then purge thy Temple; let my fleſh ev'n long:
O give each pore a tongue,
To cry, Come bleſſed Spirit: let each mouth
Breathe, Riſe, O North, come South;
Breathe on thy Spices, breathe, leſt that thy garden,
Not blow'd, or dew'd on, harden,
Like to that quondam-Nurſery of thine,
Once-fruitful Paleſtine.
Thus by thy grace refreſh'd, in thy good time,
It flouriſh may, like Eden in its prime.
Pſal. 63.
4 For thy loving kindneſs is better then life it ſelf.
1.
BEtter then life it ſelf! what's life? what blindneſs
Prefers his life before thy loving kindneſs?
Were life poſſeſt of all that feigned bliſs
The Alchoran can promiſe after this;
Yet what were all theſe joys? what guſt or ſavor
Had all theſe pleaſures yet, without thy favor?
2.
Could man re-purchaſe, by ſome unknown price,
His ancient Mannor, real Paradice:
Should he be re-ſaluted, The ſole Lord,
And ſeiſin giv'n him by that flaming ſword:
Could Man have all theſe joys, what were 't to be
At peace with Creatures, and at war with Thee?
3.
Should man be with that choſen veſſel rapt
Up into heav'n, and there in glories wrapt:
Should he with ſuch a holy violence
As was Elijah once, be wafted hence:
Could man have theſe, without thy love what were it
To what Elijah and bleſt Paul inherit?
4.
If the wings of our time of life did flag
Nothing below the age of crow or ſtag;
If in man's body fitly did condenſe,
An equal temper of the elements:
Yet what were life, without thine from above?
Or breath, without the breathings of thy love?
5.
Life is a noble thing, by God 't was breath'd;
A jewel to man's carkanet bequeath'd,
To cheriſh 't by inſtinct is all our ſtrife,
All good 's included in the Name of Life
Yet if thy gracious Spirit not revive,
We but dead, and onelyonly ſeem to live.
6.
True, a live dog exceeds a lion dead;
But a dead dog excells a life that 's led.
Without thy favour, without thy direction:
Thy breath in us corrupts by ſins infection.
Without thy love, each creature's both our Foe,
And all enjoyments turn to bitter woe.
7.
Except our money with thy ſtamp be coyn'd,
Except our friendſhip with thy love be joyn'd,
Except thy marrow do our diſh imbelliſh,
Except our wine do ſavour of thy reliſh;
Our money, friendſhip, all our wine and ſood,
Not currant is, not true, not ſweet, not good.
8.
Dear God! without thy love all creatures may
Match me; I live and am, and ſo are they:
No difference, without thy quickning preſence,
There is 'twixt me, and unbelieving peaſants.
If here thy love bear witneſs of thy choice,
I in thy loving kindneſs ſhall rejoyce.