The Doctrine of the Three Sacred Persons, Part 6
LOVE
FRom Faith and Hope I come ſweet Love to ſing
For ev'ry Anchor hath its ring
Whereby 'tis wedded to its Cable-Rope.
Love makes the match 'twixt Faith and Hope.
'Twixt Grace and Grace no marriage can be made
But where this golden ring's firſt had.
O golden Love, thou circling, endleſs thing!
All grace concenters in thy ring.
What though mine heart be flinty rock and ſtone?
Yet flints have fire: And have I none?
No ſpark of Love, thou God of Love! for thee
That haſt twice over hammerd mee?
There's not one ſpark kindled upon mine hearth
But at firſt glance it quits the earth,
As if it knew the element of fire
Were ſome Diviner thing and high'r.
Lord, I can feel there's ſuch a thing as Love
Warm in my breaſt, and feel it move;
I find I love my Child, and ſo doth he:
And ſhall I not, my God! love thee?
Is Love the only fire that doth deſcend?
Or is my God, my God, no friend?
Sure all my doubts and fears cannot diſprove
The condeſcention of thy Love.
The Elements, we find, invert their courſe,
Fearing a Vacuum would be worſe:
And did not Love ſtoop low, when God did dye
To fill up mans vacuity?
Reader! ſtop here:
And drop a tear!
When Love that, ev'ry Ev'ning, makes my bed
Had not whereon to lay his head:
Except you'll call that bloody Croſs and bitter
A Love-ſick Saviours bed and litter.
When Love it ſelf being as rich as ſtore
To make me rich …id become poor:
Unleſs thoſe tears and bloody drops that fall,
You'll Pearls account and rubies call.
And can the flaming Element of Love
To ſtore my wants drop from above?
Why can't mine Earth as well to Heaven grow,
As Heav'ns Love fire come down ſo low?
Why may I not, Elijah-like, aſpire
To ride to Heaven in that fire,
That fire of Love that came from thence down hither
On purpoſe ſure to help methither.
When Love to hatred did himſelf expoſe,
And prick's own foot to eaſe his foes:
Printing full proof in his chapt parched skin
What flames of Love there were within.
When Love unthought, unſought for did come down
Exchanging, for a Croſs, his Crown
Love undeſir'd, Love undeſerv'd did take
Mans game to play to ſave mans ſtake.
Whileſt flames of wrath ſo ſorely did conteſt
With this Love-fire in Saviours breaſt
Heightning the heat ſo far till's blood boy…'d ore,
Iſſuing out at ev'ry pore,
Lord! can the eye,
That reads, be dry?
Ah! if it can; let not the writers bee:
No tears of Love, my God! for thee?
Lord! could Love make thee take my ſins as thine?
Sure then thy ſorrows ſhall be mine.
The ſtripes that rent thy back, ſhall ſmite and knock
My breaſt, till they have cleft my rock.
The ir'n that in thine hands left ſuch a p…int
Shall ſtrike ſome fire out of my flint.
Shall I not love that friend that lov'd me So
So Lov'd me when I was his foe!
Lord! let not want of Love encreaſe my ſcore!
My debts were great enough before.
Make me thy Love ſo burning hot to feel,
As to diſſolve and melt my ſteel:
And burn my ſtony heart to fervent lime,
As I h've ſeen fire turn ſtone ſometime.
My heart is thine; Lord thou haſt bought that ſtone
And thou haſt fewell of thine own:
Wil't not quit coſt? great builder! if it will,
O throw mine heart into thy kill.
Lime is an uſefull thing in buildings ſure:
And lime of ſtone will beſt endure:
Knowledg puffs up, but Love is edifying,
And growes the ſtronger by long lying.
Oh that I had that lime of Love that is
(As by Antiperiſtaſis)
Hotter for water! I would often then
Weep till I even flam'd agen;
But now I mourn,
That I can't burn.
Can't burn? Alas! my God, I'm burning ever:
But oh my burning is a Fever.
Such hectick heat doth too too plainly prove
That I am but infirm in Love.
Lord, doſt not ſee how Giants do invade
Thy right? my God, confound their trade,
Who uſing luſt for lime, by Helliſh art,
Would rebuild Babell in my heart.
'Tis not ſo long my God and Saviour ſince
Thou didſt expell th' uſurping Prince
Raſing his works and ſtrong holds built within
With lime of luſt and piles of ſin.
Can I Love ſin, that hatefull cruell thing,
That grinds the Serpents forked ſting;
Shew'ng death how twice at once to murther me?
And can I not, my God, Love thee?
Can I Love ſin, that puts me on the wrack
Till bones do break and ſinews crack?
And Can I not Love him that climb'd the tree?
Wracking himſelf to take down me?
Can I Love ſin, ſince hatred nere had bin?
Never bin heard of but for ſin?
And can I not love LOVE, that came to dye,
To kill hatred and enmity?
Love ſin, that founded Hell at's own expence?
And not my God that ſaves me thence?
Alas! how ſtrangly Love its mark can miſs!
Oh that mine head and heart for this
Were both one flood
Of tears of blood!
Or can mine heart like Joſephs Miſtriſs, make
Love to the Servant? and miſtake
Theſe things below for my dear God above
To whom I owe ev'n all my Love?
And then when theſe chaſt Creature-comforts flie
Rather then yield, or gratifie,
Can I complain unto my Lord, and ſay
That they did tempt then flie away?
Alas! poor Creatures would not be abuſed:
And muſt they yet be thus accuſed?
And God in them? And that I may be found
Guiltleſs, muſt guilt reach God at th' bound?
Thou gav'ſt me theſe to prove thy Love to me,
But not to ſteal my Love from thee:
I cannot Love the giver, for his gift;
Alas! my God, that's a poor ſhift.
Why? ſhall I court the Bearer, that doth bring
Forgetting him that ſends the ring?
All Creature-good in this world or the next
Be'ng but a comment on Loves Text:
This whole Creation be'ng but one round drop
Hanging down from loves fingers top,
If all the world were Pearl, yet why ſhould I
Deſire to wear it in mine eye?
So that for this worlds Love I ſhould not ſee,
My deareſt Lord, how to Love thee?
Can I ſo Love the world? And can't I yet
Love God that made both me and it?
Lord, I muſt cry,
Here's Witchery!
If the world be th' inchantreſs, Lord, I pray
Haſten the Gen'rall Judgement day!
For ſure my Love, when 't ſees the witch a burning
To its right wits will be returning.
But rather I ſuſpect 'tis Hells black-art
That from my God thus charms my heart.
Remembring 'twas the wilie Serpents plot
That firſt brake the True-Lovers-Knot.
When Baalams Divinations could not move
From Gods dear Iſrael Gods dear Love,
But God that lov'd them once, would love them ſtill,
Though Balaam went from mount to hill.
He next inſtructs the Moabites to lay
Adult'rous Loves in Iſr'els way
To quench their Love to God through wanton fire
And thereby to incenſe Gods ire.
And if this world play the Moabiteſs;
'Tis Satans project, Lord, I gueſs:
Who ſee'ng he can't divert thy Love from mee
Would thus divide my Love from thee.
And, is mine heart divided? ah! my God,
Whoſe clo…en foot thereon hath trod
The print diſcovers. What though Balaam's dead?
Thou God of peace! bruiſe Satans head.
But I am moſt affraid the worſt's within:
The witch-craft of my native ſin.
Sin winds and circles, Lord, ſo many wayes
Till ſin ofttimes the Devill raiſe;
Lord! thou art fire,
Give ſin her hire.
Burn up this witch, her crafts, and Philtre-pots:
Sins books of curious arts, charms, knots,
By thy refining Spirit, that I may
Get warmth of Love to thee that way.
Who hath bewitch'd me that I am ſo coy
When thou wouldſt fain my Love enjoy,
Thou, bleſſed Three, ſtand'ſt ſuing for mine heart
Who only canſt fill every part?
Dear God! who hath bewitched me that I cant
Deny the courting world a graunt,
That never yet could fill my heart, unleſs
It were with griping emptineſs?
The garment of thy goodneſs is entire;
Can keep me warm without a fire:
To which this whole creation's but a ſhred,
Each Creature's but one ſingle thred.
To give theſe things their due, they're good for uſe:
And lovely too: unleſs their juice,
By Love inordinate, be dryed up;
Leaving behind an empty cup.
And is gold rich? and can the mine be poor?
Theirs at the beſt is borrow'd ſtore.
Nay, ſo long borrow'd that it now grows old:
O that my Love could wax as cold,
As cold to earth, as earth is in decay:
But more intenſe to God each day!
Who'll ſoon ſerve earth for all its glitt'ring grace
As we do ſerve old Silver-lace,
Lord! fire this pile
Of man mean while.
I h've heard good husbands ſay, that they that borrow
Their ſtock to day, may break to morrow:
Sure the worlds credit cannot long hold good.
'Tis much the world thus long hath ſtood.
Conſid'ring when the world's in fulleſt trade
How poor and ſorry payment's made
Him, that owes all, and muſt his right recover;
Sure th' world muſt then all trade give over:
Shall I not therefore deal ith' interim
Leſs with the world, but more with him,
With him whoſe Love's an unexhauſted ſpring
Of ev'ry good and perfect thing.
Methinks mens trading with the world might ſtop
At thought of this who keeps her ſhop.
Alas! my God, the world is Devill ridden:
The thing is known and can't be hidden.
Hell hath deflour'd the earth, and now I ſee
'T would put its leavings off to me,
Dawbing falſe paint on th' face oth' wrinkled Creature
Hav'ng worn and ſpoil'd its native feature.
The earth's all Egypt now: And Egypts curſe
Is over all the world, or worſe:
For Beelzebub with his ſwarming train
Hath all things flie-blown. To be plain
There is no fleſh that's ſweet, but Saviours, now.
Which Satan tri'd, but knew not how
To taint. All's dogs-meat elſe. Lord! teach me chuſe
And I ſhall all the reſt refuſe,
And only wiſh
For that one diſh.
A diſh that's wholeſome, and 'tis healing too.
Ah my dear God! what ſhall I do
To Love thy fleſh enough that taſted once
For ever heals my broken bones.
Set thine apart, all other fleſh is graſs:
And is my ſoul an oxe or aſs?
That it ſhould Love no higher then my beaſt?
Or can my ſoul ſuch fare digeſt?
Come, Trencher Criticks, you that eat by book,
And in your food for phyſick look,
Your Cook muſt be ſome ſmall Apothecarie,
Will you allow a Verſer varie
From your received rules? and be content
To try a new experiment?
Fleſh in a feaver's good Divinity,
Which who moſt eats, ſcapes beſt, ſay I.
Provided that the fleſh be ſound and good
(For I would be right underſtood)
As never did, nor could, corruption ſee:
Ah my dear Saviour! I mean thee.
Alas! how low in an high burning Feaver
Of Gods diſpleaſure, never never
To have been cured otherwiſe, did ſin
Once bring me, till I did begin
To fall aboard that ſacred fleſh? And then
How ſoon did I grow well agen?
Then wellcome, gentle gueſt, if thou haſt not
To prize and Love thine health forgot,
Come ſit down here
And Love this Chear.
Or tell me is it ſweetneſs and delight
That rather doth thy Love invite?
What more delicious, ſweeter thing can be
Than that ſweet blood was ſhed for me?
When I Repentance take, that purging pill
I take it in this Syrup ſtill:
Wha… purgeth, pains; and would too much corrode
…t for this ſweet emulgent blood.
You curious Palates, that can't let one glaſs
Without a ſtrict Examen paſs
Come taſt, and tell me if (this blood) this wine
Ben't generous and genuine?
The Vine is Divine, nay'tis ſomewhat more;
And can the blood oth' Grape be poor?
'Tis this High-Country-Wine that fills my cup,
When at my Saviours board I ſup.
Wine, that's as ſweet as wrath of God is bitter,
Which, who hath taſted is the fitter
To relliſh this rich liquor. Wrath makes dry
But here's the cup of Charity.
This is the grace-cup. Nothing's ſweet nor good
Till daſht or ſprinkled with this blood.
Men are but Swine, wines are but ſwill before
This blood man to himſelf reſtore.
A Wine ſo good, fal'n Angels might not taſt it;
Who therefore did contrive to caſt it
Upon the ground; which when they thought to ſpill
They broach'd for man againſt their will.
Lord who can love
Thy blood enough?
Or do you Love for Lovelineſs? Come hither;
My Lord is Lovely alltogether.
Alas how am'rous wits forget their duty
To this ſupreme and perfect beauty!
You fond admirers of a skin-deep hue,
To duſty beauties bid adiew,
To duſty beauties that have marr'd your eyes:
Ah my dear God! that wit were wiſe!
It cuts mine heart to ſee much ſilken wit
And ſnares and halters made of it.
Halters to th' owners, ſnares to th'paſſers by.
How faſt looſe wit can wantons tie,
And ſtake them down! till firſt the lover burns
In heart, and then in Hell by turns.
But ſay his Love be chaſt; And ſhee a flow'r;
All's next to nothing the next hour:
'Tis kill'd with kindneſs, dies when complemented,
And ſooneſt fades when 'tis moſt ſented.
Whoſe Muſe doth dreſs his Miſtriſs, hangs a Verſe
To day upon to morrows Herſe:
Friends muſt be then call'd in to have away
What wanton wit adores to day.
Skin-beauty's but a Sodom-apple juſt:
When cruſht, it turns to ſtench and duſt.
The wanton world complains their Love is blind
And I muſt needs be of their mind;
Whilſt for ſuch walking ſhades they cannot ſee
My deareſt Lord, how to Love thee.
Yet thou art faire
Beyond compare.
Had I a wit, and had I grace I'd bring
My Saviour an enamel'd ring,
A ring whoſe Poſie ſhould be this alone,
Stars get ye gone, the Sun hath ſhone.
Stars? I mean glow-worms: earthen beauties which
Ith' dark do ſparkle in a ditch,
And fools miſtake for Stars; ill touch informs,
And proves them to be ſillie worms.
But, Lord, my Muſe unworthy is to bear
The ſhoes that thy fair feet do wear.
Fairer for bee'ng ſo ſwift, ſwift to ſhed blood;
Their own I mean to do me good.
How fair's thy face then? may I, Lord, one day
Have leave to ſee, though none can ſay
How fair it is. My dear, the Sun's a Clod
To thy bright face, fair Son of God!
Wherein ſtill freſh and freſh together growes.
With vallies Lillie, Sharons Roſe.
A roſe that ne'r bare prickles of its own;
Yet ſinners thorns did Saviour crown.
And ſhall I Love my Champion leſs for ſcars
He gat in waging of my wars?
Thy bruiſes are but beauty ſpots, my dear,
That make thy Love more fair appear.
Who loves for fleſhly gloſs and ſilken skin
May find a Serpent oft within.
But thy deep wounds, Lord, prove thee that thou art
All Lovely to thy very heart.
Beauty thus deep,
Will hold and keep.
Or is it Knowledg, Learning, Science, art
That takes the more ingenious heart?
Come, bookiſh man, and ſit a while down here;
Till thou haſt read my deareſt dear.
What's that that's printed in his hands and feet?
The print is plain, man, doſt not ſee't?
A myſtery that learned fleſh and blood
Never taught yet, nor underſtood.
I h've ſometime ſtood and wondred at the Owles
How they ſhould prove Minerva's Foules:
But ſince have learnt that learning's blind as Love
Till both be tutour'd from above.
Oh what a Dungeon is the mind of man,
Let Pallas paint it what ſhe can!
Some would not be ſuch fools but that they're wiſe:
And might ſee better but for eyes.
Lord ſhall I Love to know, and not know thee,
In whom all wiſdoms treaſures bee?
Great Magazine I whoſe wiſdom's infinite,
Give me that Panoplie of light.
An Epictetus or an Antonine
Ith' dark may make a ſhift to ſhine:
But being by thy Sun-light underſtood
Alas, my God, prove putrid wood.
Shall ventrous Students ev'ry Toads-head look
For Pearls of knowledge? And thy book,
Thy works lye by unlov'd, unlook'd into?
Thy Pupills, th' Angels don't ſo do:
But help their ſight
By Goſpell-light.
Or do I Love for likeneſs? Ah, my dear,
Whoſe Image was't I firſt did bear?
Whilſt yet I ſtood in Primitive perfection
Lord, what was I, but thy reflexion?
So like thee that thy ſelf thou couldſt not Love
But Love me too: Nor could I move
Thy Love from me, till I thy likeneſs loſt
Thine Image bee'ng ſin-ſlur'd and croſt.
But now I'm hatefull grown and hating too
Alas, my God, what ſhall I do
To Love thee and to be belov'd of thee?
My Lord, thy Love preventeth mee.
For ſince the ground of liking likeneſs is,
Rather then my poor Love thou'dſt miſs;
Since curſed ſin made man unlike his maker,
God of mans likeneſs was partaker.
When ſin, to mans undoing, had undone
Gods Image; God next ſent his Son
In likeneſs of poor ſinfull fleſh; thereby
Condemning ſin ith' fleſh to dye:
My God was hungry, thirſty, naked, poor:
In fears, in tears, in ſweat, in gore:
Was tempted, was betrai'd, forſaken, ſold,
Was captivated, kept in hold.
Was judg'd, condemn'd, was kill'd, was buri'd then
That he and I might riſe agen
In one Divine and ſweet ſimilitude
And Love in likeneſs be renew'd.
And can I yet
Thy Love forget?
Or do I Love for conſanguinity?
For nearneſs and relation? why
For me Chriſt took, and ſhed that Blood of his;
And do I ask how near he is?
My Lord is much more mine, then I mine own
My Lord was mine, when I was none:
My Lord, when I was loſt and gone aſtray,
Was both my Shepheard and my Way.
Surely my Lord and I are near skin,
Ere ſince my Saviour was made SIN
Forme, and I made RIGHTEOVSNESS in him.
He is my head and I a limb:
He is the Vine, and I the branch: the root,
Whereof I am a ſlip or ſhoot:
Of my ſalvation he the captain is,
And I am a reprize of his.
He is my Father, I his ſeed: nay he,
In travaile of his ſoul, bare me:
My brother too, born for adverſity;
The Joſeph of the family.
He is my Maker, yet mine husband too:
This Potter me his clay did wooe:
And rather then he'd miſs the match did make
Him a clay-body for my ſake.
Ev'n all men Love their own, and ſhall I not?
Help Lord, and I will knit the knot.
In full acceptance of thy free donation:
Claſp hearts and hands in ſweet relation
Lord, thou art mine,
Make me more thine!
Or do I Love for ſuitable ſupplies
To all my wants? ſure I want eyes
Or I could not want Love, my Lord, to thee
In whom all bleſſings treaſur'd bee.
O that my drop into a Sea could ſwell
Of Love to him, in whom doth dwell
All fullneſs, as in bank or houſe of ſtore,
Ev'n Grace and Bliſs for evermore.
Thine bee'ng once asked if they would away,
O whither ſhall we go? ſaid they
The words of life eternall, Lord, thou haſt.
And that's a ſtock can never waſt.
Goodneſs is all contracted in thy face,
As Sun-beams in a burning-glaſs:
Oh that I lay in ſome directer line
That I might burn whilſt thou doſt ſhine.
Am I a ſinner? thou'rt a propitiation:
I h've wrought confuſion, thou ſalvation.
I h've purchas'd death both for my ſelf and thee,
But thou to life haſt ranſom'd mee.
As God, thou ſeeſt; as man, thou feel'ſt my grief.
As both, thou'rt ſuitable relief:
My Creditour, and yet my Surety too:
Paying and pard'ning what I owe.
Creatures are Ciſterns, leaking veſſels, they
Cannot ſupply themſelves one day
And me much leſs. My ſprings are all above
My light, my life: Why not my Love?
Oh 'tis thy right:
Accept my mite.
Or is it Love that ſharpens Love again?
My Saviour, every grinding pain
Of thine on Earth, and preſent Interceſſion
Pleads for a Love beyond expreſſion.
'Tis Love I live upon. And do I yet
Suſpect thy Love! or queſtion it?
Lord, if my Living be n't full proof, thy dying
Gives evidence beyond denying
Herein is Love without diſſimulation
Thy Love thou proveſt by thy Paſſion,
Whoſe every wound with open mouth cries out
We are Loves Vou…hers, if you doubt.
When Heav'nly Hoaſts firſt ſaw thee breath if then
They run and preach good will tow'rds men
If thus they comment on thine Infant-breath
My God! what thought they of thy death!
Oh! how he Lov'd him? if who ſaw thee ſhed
Tears for thy friend Laz'ras bee'ng dead,
Cryed out; What might they've ſaid that ſaw thee dye
Bleeding for me, thine enemy.
And dare I? can I yet renew that grief?
Doubting thy Love, through unbelief.
If I but ſay I Love, how doth it grieve me
If yet my Friend will not believe me.
And dare I yet ſuſpect the God of Love
Who ſaies, who ſwears, who dies to prove
He Loves me. Shall I fail in proof of mine
And then, to make a mends, doubt thine!
Doubling thereby
Each in…ury?
I find, I feel, I ſee, and can't I ſay,
He Loves me? doubts out of my way.
Doubtings by Demonſtrations overcome
Sure then if ever may be dumb.
Or if I needs muſt doubt and jealous bee
Lord Ile ſuſpect my ſelf not thee.
My ſoul! lov'ſt thou thy Lord? ſay yea or nay,
My God I'm gravell'd what to ſay.
Yet will I hold mine heart to th' S…rutiny
Till it affirm or elſe deny
Deny? my God! I dare not, nay I cannot,
And yet, methinks, affirm I may not.
Oh that I could. This only can I ſay
Dear Lord, that I cannot ſay nay
Thoughts in again! (Loves no ſuch neutrall thing)
You muſt a certain Verdict bring.
Only be ſure, for 'tis your own behoof,
Your Verdict ſtands on certain proof.
Alas my thoughts can never ſolve this doubt
Unleſs thy Love Lord help me out.
My God what crouds of witneſſes ſeem ſtrive
To be depos'd oth' Negative?
My ſeldome thoughts of thee, my cold devotions,
Heartleſs profeſſion, lifeleſs motions;
My wanton Dalian with the world and ſin:
My want of kindneſs to thy kin:
My little longing when thou'rt out of ſight
Or lab'ring to regain the light,
I ſigh to ſay
How theſe plead NAY.
Theſe? ah my God! and many more than theſe;
My little little care, to pleaſe;
Or fear, of grieving thee, my want of leiſure,
For thee; and in thee, want of pleaſure.
My numbe Lethargick zeal when men defame
Thy Saints, thy worſhip, waies, or name,
How ſay I that I Love thee, when mine heart
So poorly plaies the Lovers part?
My Love commands mine eye, mine hand, my purſe
Can I Love thee, yet ſerve thee worſe?
Or muſt my friend of all friends be deni'd
What I yield all I Love beſide?
Alas! my Lord! ſuch proof had almoſt got
A Verdict paſt I Love thee not;
But that one witneſs came and croſt the reſt
Stifling that Verdict in my breaſt.
Yet t'was not much that witneſſe had to ſay
But ſorely weeping cri'd I pray
If't be as you pretend that there's no fire,
Whence is this ſmoaking flax deſire?
My Jeſus! thou'rt my Judge, the Judge of all,
To whom my Love muſt ſtand or fall
Thou that knowſt all things knowſt that I abhor
My ſelf for Loving thee no more.
My dear! I h've ſometime long'd, and do I not
Long yet that thou wouldſt looſe one knot
To tye another? what's this life to me,
If I muſt ſtill be ſtrange to thee?
To Love is life,
Elſe life's but ſtrife.
Oh that I were a Graduat in that Colledge
Where Love is known that paſſeth knowledg:
Where ſmiling Saints do comprehend and dwell
In Love incomprehenſible.
Where perfect Love caſts out tormenting fear:
Nor theirs nor thine is doubted there:
Where full-eyed Love may ſee to interline
Thy text with ſome ſhort Notes of mine.
But whilſt I'm low as earth, ſhort as a ſpan,
Fleet as a ſhade, narrow as man
The height, length, depth, and breadth, of Love to meaſure
I have nor skill, my God, nor leiſure.
Love that's as high as Heav'n, for thence it came
And thither with it bound I am.
Love that's as long as length; eternity
Muſt ſay how long, for ſo can't I.
Love that's as deep as Hell, for thence it took,
Me; And the day's down in my book.
Love that's as broard as ſin that ſpreads all over
Yet, Lord! thy Love my ſin doth cover.
Th' Aſtronomer what houſes ſtars do keep
Can tell, the diver gage the deep;
But I, poor Chriſts-Croſs-Sholler, cannot ſpell
LOVE, though a monaſyllable.
Lord I could be content mine earth might turn
To aſhes, ſo my ſoul might burn
And all my powers become one Holocauſt
Reaching thy Love and life at laſt;
Lord ſtir this fire
And raiſe it higher.
Here's a poor broken heart, a Sacrifice
Which yet thou'ſt ſaid thoult not deſpiſe
I bind it on thine Altar in deſire
Heav'ns favour ſet it all on fire!
Lord ſhall I ever be a Queſtioniſt?
Help me commence in Love to Chriſt:
Or ſtill incept'ring? paſs a grace mine heart
May once be maſter of this art.
But as I ſaid, methought, I heard one ſay,
Away bold Freſhman you muſt ſtay
Your time: there's many'n act ere this degree.
And hare there muſt no hudlings bee.
Lord if it muſt be ſo, my now Condition.
I tender to thine own Tuition
Till I have better Arguments to prove
I'm more proficient in thy Love.
Charge thy ſelf with me. Me and all that's mine
Subject I to thy diſcipline,
Lord I will have no mind diſtinct from thee
Who giveſt all thats thine to mee.
If others ask me, can you walk abroad?
Ile anſwer, Go and ask my God.
Where thou ſaiſt go though fleſh and blood ſay ſtay
I'le creep if I can't run that way.
Or if I, as I fear I ſhall, tranſgreſs
This law of Love I now expreſs;
I'le humbly ſtrip my ſelf next ſerious thought
Till thou haſt whipt me for my fau't:
Then kiſs thy rod;
And cry, my God!
Then if thou ſmile thy favour Lord ſhall be
Like rain upon mown graſs to me.
Or like warm Sun-beams that ſucceed ſome ſhowr
Till joyes poor Bud's a full-blown flower
But I will watch left ſome Old-Adam ſeed,
With joyes fair flower, put forth ſome weed.
Which when't firſt peeps, thy weeding knife Ile borrow
Leſt the ground harden by to morrow.
Ile mark thine eye; a better brighter Star,
Than that that guid… the Mariner.
My dull remiſneſs, Lord, thine eye, ſhall whet
To more obſervance, when ſharp ſet.
Thy quick and haſty look ſhall quicken mee:
Ile away to my Book, or Knee.
Ile chide my buſie play-fellows; Away,
My maſter frowns; I dare not play.
Lord, I'le ſee by thine eyes; thine ev'ry beck
Shall be my Bridle curb, and check.
The Watch thou giv'ſt me Ile keep for thy ſake:
And wind it up when ere I wake.
The Book thou gav'ſt me, that blood-guilded Book,
Ile ever, ever in it look
Till I find thee there, and my ſelf, thy beauty,
And learn to know and do my duty.
Then ſhewing to others, See the token Love
Ile ſay hath ſent me from above:
Keeping the cleaner hands that I may not
Diſcolour it with any ſpot;
Unleſs a tear
Drop here or there.
The task thou ſetſt me Lord I'le nor complain:
Thy work ſhall be my wage and gain:
Clean as I can Ile do't if ſullied then
My tears ſhall waſh it ore agen.
Thy ſtrict commands and Love-lin'd yoak ſhall be
A neck-chain of pure gold to me.
Thine hardeſt ſayings when my ſtomacks que…zie
Love ſhall digeſt, and make them eaſie.
Thine is no Labans-ſervice if it were,
Yet Love two Prentiſhips might bear:
But to be bound, or held in durance by
Thy Royall Law, is liberty.
Mine heart ſhall be leſs looſe, and yet more large
Be'ng ſtretcht out unto all thy charge:
And where my life fals ſhort of either table
Love ſhall fullfill; for Love is able.
If thou wilt come, and take an Inventory
Of all thats mine; Ile not be ſorry:
If thou wilt ſearch and ranſack all I have
Ile help thee, or thine help Ile crave.
If ought I have diſpleaſe, or if I doubt,
I will, for ſureneſs throw it out.
If I can pleaſure thee with ought thats mine:
Ile quit my Title, Lord tis thine.
If mine heart fit thy walking thou ſhalt have it
If not, yet Love ſhall mend and pave it
With ſuch clear ſolid ſtone ev'n all within
As yet can weep for ev'ry ſin,
Waſhing thy feet
When men don't ſee't.
Mine heart be'ng thus poſſeſt, when ſtrangers come
Ile ſay thou'ſt taken up my room:
Then if thou ask whoſe purſe, or parts are theſe
Ile anſwer, thine Lord if thou pleaſe.
If on mine Houre-Glaſs thou then lay thine hand
And ask whoſe is this running ſand
Ile anſwer, Lord the little's left is thine:
But what's run out is no more mine.
Or if thou ask me, who are thoſe at th' door?
Smiling on them; Ile ſay, my poor,
Ile draw my ſoul out when thy Lazar knocks
My Cupboard ſhall be th' poor mans box.
If others come, like thoſe poor Greeks, to mee
With a Sir, we would Jeſus ſee
Ile gladly tell them where my Lord doth Sup
Do'ng all I can to help them up.
If others curſe thee Shimes like; if they
Caſt duſt, Ile blow the duſt away
With ſighs and groans; if they thine honour ſtain
Ile weep and waſh it clean again.
Or elſe Ile chide or fight if thou ſhalt bid
(But firſt of all with T…ai ours hid
At home) I'le fear no colours whileſt above
Thy Banner over me is Love.
Who ſues to be a favourite of mine
Ile ask him firſt if he be thine,
If not, Ile pray him to be reconcil'd
To thee, that ſo my Love to th' Child
May a…l be found
Thine at the bound.
Or when thy tender Lillie bleeds, my God
Torne with thoſe cru…l… thorns abroad
Or rent with Schiſmes at home and heart diviſion
Ile what I can play the Phyſician.
Ile plead with thee with them; if things grow worſe
Ile bleed my ſelf to turn the courſe
When I thy Peoples Hearts divided ſee
Surely mine Heart ſhall broken bee.
Thy Love hath lent me all the balm thats thine
Why ſhould not then thy ſores be mine
My God they ſhall: but chiefly when my Paſſion
Or luſt provokes thine indignation.
Ile bereveng'd on one, my ſelf I mean,
And grieve till thou art pleas'd agen.
Paſſions ſhall live like Gibeonites, their Law
To hew thy wood and water draw.
So all I have ſhall ſerve thee till I know
My Love hath life and find it grow.
Lord Ile account of all as it conduces
To help Loves growth and ſerve its uſes.
If in the Sunſhine of a proſp'rous ſtate
My fire can't burn ſo clear for that.
Ile rather chooſe ſome curteous clouds return
Then ſee Loves holy fire not burn.
Or if I fail of ought I here profeſs
And thy rod can't my fault redreſs
Rather then live thy grief, Ile yield to dye
So Love inflict the penalty.
That paid my ſcore
By death before.
If Love yet let me live a growing debtor
Ile ſtudy hard but Ile live better:
Live I mean Love; that's the Commandments en…
And thats the life that I intend.
Though Love wax cold abroad, and ſin abound,
Hard Froſt ore ſpreading all the ground.
Shall th' heat of Kitchin fire be more increaſt
And not thy flames within my breaſt?
Lord what… a Silver Tongue if't cannot talk
A Golden Leg if 't cannot walk
Faith that can Mountains move when 'tis deſired
Or Martyrdome, if Love be n't fired.
What if I give my goods and all my ſtore,
But not in Love to feed thy poore?
But if in Love a cup of water cold
Though the drink's mean, the cup is Gold.
Love tunes my Pray'rs, makes Praiſes Muſicall:
Which elſe at beſt but howl or ball.
Love makes two Mites to God as acceptable
As if to bring two worlds 'twere able.
True Love's true beauty, beauties elſe but paint
No more am I if Love I want.
Lord help me put on Love to keep me warm:
To dwell in Love ſecure from harm.
To walk in Love, till Love ith' ſtream do lead
To Love that is the Fountain head
Or th' Ocean which if I cant comprehend
I'll plung into: that in the end
Loſt I may bee,
If loſt, in thee.
Yet when I think what pent and narrow room,
Ith' Virgins Womb,
The God of Love lodg'd in, methinks mine heart
May hold its part.
Into mine heart O ſhed thy Love abroad,
My God! my God.
Both be'ng Spirit, what can better ſuit,
Then th' Spirits fruit?
Drink thirſty veſſell, till thou fill or break!
But never leak.
The broken Heart, and truly contrite Breaſt
Holds Love the beſt:
And the beſt Love: a Love more worth then wine.
Lord I mean thine:
Then as the purpoſe of thy G…ace and Love
None can remove
Let me So Love thee as to part and lever,
Lord, n ver, never.
Ungirt, Unbleſt, we ſay: my God Love is
The bond of B…iſs
And perfectneſs: A Grace, whoſe Bondmen be
The only free.
Works without Faith can never, Lord, pleaſe thee
Nor p…fi mee.
Faith without Love, can't operate o… move
But works by Love.
Love is a Grace that ſtands her ground in Glory
That upper ſtory.
Love, when Tongues, prophecies, and know…edg fail,
Ent'ring the Vaile,
Poſſeſſeth as Supreme and higheſt Grace
The Holieſt place.
When Faith and Hope do thither wait upon her,
As Maids o… Honour
Sole Love is left as Queen of all the Graces
In Gods Embraces.
Mean while, Lord, to be ſick of Love to thee
Is health to mee.
They that have not this ſickneſs, h…ve a worſe,
…hy plague and curſe.
If any man LOVE not the Lord Jeſus Chriſt, let him be Anathema Maran-atha,
1 Cor. 16.22.