Soul inlighten thee Thirdly Nay once again it 's Nature to declare 'T will sweet Impressions take God's Image bear It bore it once O then how did it shine A glorious shadow of him who 's Divine But now 't is blurr'd and soil'd by filthy dust O 't is defac'd and spoil'd by means of Lust But he who stamp'd it there at first can make It once again a new Impression take He can wash off the soil refine the Ore And make it shine fairer than heretofore O what a glorious thing how rare 't will be When God renews his Image once in thee Lose not the Soul the wax for nought can bear This Image then nor can that loss repair Fourthly The Soul 's glorious Piece wherein doth lie So great an Excellence as doth out-vy All outward Glory for 't is only she That 's capable of so great Dignitie To be espoused to the Glorious Three Strange condescention an amazing thing What joy and ravishment from hence may spring Up unto thee when into 't thou dost pry Will the high God take sweet complacency In such a one What doth he please to chuse Thee for his dear Consort make thee his Spouse May'st thou in Christ's dear Arms and Bosom lie Ah! is the Soul the Jewel of his Eye Can any joy and sweetness be like this Can worldly Comforts raise thee to such bliss What is thy Soul capable of such Union And doth there flow from thence such rare Communion Admire it is not one kiss worth more Than all the Riches of the Eastern shore O! lose not then thy Soul Ah! who would miss Of this sweet Union and Eternal Bliss Fifthly It 's nature worth and rare transcendency Appears in that great iâ—congruity And weakness of all Creatures to suffice it And from this ground great cause hast thou to prize it Nothing but God himself can satisfie That precious Soul which in thy breast do's lie The Universâ—s too little th' whole Creation Will not appease its longing expectation How vast's the Deeps how lotty the desires Of Man's poor Soul above all bounds aspires It seeks it prys and views all kind of Treasure And still it craves its wishes know no measure It walks again it rambles O it flies And ransacks all the secret Treasuries Of Art and Nature hurried nay 't is driven To and fro being restless till to Heaven It casts a look and Jesus does espy And then full soon with greatest joy doth cry O there 's the Pearl I must have him or die Thou must expect no peace there 's nought can still it Nor give it rest till God himself do's fill it Hark to its sighs do not befool and cheat it Nor of its wishings baffle and defeat it For nothing but that God that made it can Suffice the Soul the precious Soul of Man Sixthly What thinkst thou of that price that price of blood Which Christ laid down does it not cry aloud O precious is the Soul it cost full dear Doth not this noise sound always in thine Ear Seventhly Don't Satan's rage his enmity and wrath Against the Soul shew forth its precious worth Take pleasures here and Coffers fill with Coin The Shop with Wares Cellars with rich Wine Let him but have the Soul he does not care Take what you please besides and do not spare He rages when one Soul escapes his paws Ah! that 's the Prize his black and bloody jaws Are open for These Demons grin and swell With venom great and Councils hold in Hell As hath been hinted that by craft they may Catch the poor Soul and this Pearl bear away That that 's the Morsel that 's their only prey Eighthly Its blest Infusion and God's constant care For food and Ornaments which he does spare For to adorn her on th' espousal day Fully declares this Truth therefore we may Amazed stand and wondring all ways cry O precious Soul thy worth and exc'llency Is very great who can it comprehend It 's that which does oft-times to Christ ascend In strong desires and longings O! 't will pry Into all places for his Company She in his sight rejoyces and is glad But when once gone she sighs she mourns is sad All other joy 's but meer perplexity Without his love 't will swoun'd away nay die Nothing but Grace Heaven's off-spring can revive it And nought but sighs of Jesus can â—nlive it These things considered may make thee see Its worth nay more how also 't is with thee Ninthly How shall we prize the Soul what rate shall we Upon her set O what against her weigh Come bring the ballance and now let us try What further worth or preciousness doth lie In the fair Soul 't is done all Golden Ore Of both the Indies are i th' seales yet more We still do want more Riches pray put in All precious Stones and Pearls now weigh agin Alas the ballance flies here yet wants weight The Soul out-viâ—s them all Lord here 's a sight Th' whole world at once is in yet 't is too light Add world to world and heap ten thousand more Were there so many could you find such store Yet would the Soul in worth exceed them far Nay I might multiply and yet not eâ—r Oh! then take heed thou dost not chaffer so To get the World and in exchange let go This precious Soul nor let it be thought strange What shall a Man for 's Soul give in exchange Tenthly She is Immortal O she cannot die Though 't was not so from all Eternity She was created but in such a state Man can't her kill nor hâ—r annihilate Her Beings such hâ—r Life shall still remain Although the body die in bliss or pain Then hast then not good ground to watch ward With wary eye and set a constant guard Upon the portals of the treach'rous heart Lest of this Jewel thou decâ—ived art What Man to gain a shilling would let go A Pearl of such great price and value who Would think that Men accounted grave and wise â—or toys and trifles should their Souls despise Many I fear there be who day by day To gain a Grâ—â—at unjustly givâ—t away Whilst others prostitute it to their lust Nay do by it as by a bone or crust That 's cast unto the Dog for him to knaw This Dog 's the Devil whose wide stretchtâ—out jaw Stand gaping for 't his Eyes are upon all Knowing when e're they sin they let it fall O then take heed and if this Dog should fawn Or wag his Tail let not so sweet a pawn Of future Glory be contemn'd or lost Think think from whence it came what it cost CHAP. VII Christ's Love Epitomiz'd the Old-man wounded Will made willing shewing also the nature of the Soul's Espoâ—sal to Christ IF all that hath been said yet will not move thee To close with Christ I once again will prove thee By making of a brief or short collection Of his sweet Love and wonderful Affection
of Man Oh! let our Souls be arm'd with courage bold Whilst we this furious Battel do behold Before the Fight begins do you not hear How he doth cry unto his Father dear O let this Cup from me Lord pass away If it be possible Let it I pray Pass from me that of it I may not drink Until this time he never seem'd to shrink From any pain conflict or suffering This Combat is alas a different thing From what before he ever met withal From hence he did unto his Father call Once and again repeating of his cry It 'h sense of what was now approaching nigh Some may at this 't is likely much admire That our dear Saviour should so loud desire To be deliver'd from that bitter Cup Which was prepared for him to drink up It did not rise for his unwillingness But from the pain the anguish and distress 'T would bring him to this humane Nature's weak From thence he might such supplications make Ah! wrath Divine what humane Soul can beaâ— But of Divinity he hath his share Which doth again his fainting spirit chear And such support he needs Cast but an Eye See how the Combatants with fury fly Upon each other What a Battel 's here Enough to melt our Souls into a tear Lo the first blow that Sin and Wrath doth give It is the worst he ever did receive Behold how frightfully grim Wrath doth frown Nay more the Prince seems by their strength cast down Now Sin Wrath upon him both do lie Which makes him groan and bitterly to cry With panting breast and half-expiring Breath My Soul is sorrowful ev'n unto Death Can the great Prince of Earth and Heaven feel Such heavy strokes as thus to make him reel The dismal weight of Sin this doth declare None but a JESVS could it fully bear Happy are we as the blest Prophet said Our Help was upon One that 's mighty laid Could man or Angel ev'r have born all this And not have been cast down to th'deepst Abyss Nay of this mighty One Saint Mark hath rais'd Our Wonder higher He was sore amaz'd Nay more than this he fell upon the Ground No Soul before such anguish ever found To see the Lord of Life brought to the Earth Under the pressure of God's heavy Wrath And that he suffer'd all this in our stead May make our Souls to stand astonished Especially if to these Trials we Shall add his great and bloody Agony Wherein the sweat fell from him as he stood In Crimson dy like trickling drops of blood Ah! precious Lord this work was very sore But still thy Love and it s blest Vertue 's more Through all these Toils thou graspst at Victory And Captive lead'st at last Captivity If Sin that day had not receiv'd a fall Grim Death and Hell had quickly swallow'd all The race of Man we all had been undone No help no hope no life for any one Sin was condemn'd it had a fatal blow That now to Saints it little hurt can do But to proceed here I shall now relate Some things which very much do aggravate The sufferings which Christ in 's Soul indur'd When he this Conquest for our Souls procur'd No greater sorrows did he ever know Than those which then his Soul did undergo Several Circumstances which demonstrate the Greatness of our Saviours sufferings in his Soul in the Garden First They did not seize him with the least surprize From thence oft-times doth great Amazement rise Unto poor Mortals we are not aware Oft-times what 's nigh know nothing of the snare But thus 't was not with the blest Prince of Light What can be hid from Great Jehovah's sight He knew full well what would upon him fall Yet when it came so great surpassing all Were th' Griefs he felt he in amaze doth call Unto his Father dear most earnestly If 't were his will to let that Cup pass by Secondly It was the very thing he came to do And yet cry'd out in such sad sort O who Can then conceive what he did undergo He freely did his precious Life give up And yet he 's ready to refuse the Cup. He takes it as it were into his hand Most willingly but presently doth stand Pausing a while then puts it to his Lip And after he had took one bitter sip Looks up to Heav'n and cryes O may it be Thy will dear God this Cup might pass from me Thirdly He knew unless he drank it up that we Must perish All to all Eternitie And that his coming would prove all in vain If he refused for us to be slain And yet with sighs and groans how did he cry In sense of wrath and that extremity Which he beheld would quickly overtake him When once his blessed Father did forsake him Fourthly The Angels which did there to him appear Demonstrate plain how great his sorrows were For like as one distressed makes complaint Quite tired out and all his spirits faint Needs to be strengthned by some faithful Friend So God to him did Holy Angels send For to relieve and comfort him that Day When Sin and Wrath so heavy on him lay Fifthly But what 's Assistance from an Heavenly Host To the great Power of the Holy Ghost Some little measure of the Spirit hath Caused blest Saints to triumph over Death How have they sung with flames about their Ears Contemning pains regardless of all fears This Spirit rested on him bodily Without measure and yet how doth he cry As scarce well knowing which way to bear up Whilst he partakes of this most painful Cup. This greatly doth his suff'rings amplify To humane sense if weighed seriously Sixthly O Lord what means these melting sighs and Tears Why is thy Soul amaz'd why fill'd with Fears Ah! 't is enough to break our hearts to think Upon that bitter potion thou didst drink Thou knewst thy sorrows would be quickly o're And then thou shouldst ne'r sigh nor suffer more 'T was from thy worth both Wrath and Justice cryes We are appeas'd with this thy Sacrifice Might not the shortness of this Conflict yield Thee some Relief Besides thou knew'st the Field Thou shouldst obtain the Conquest was thine own And quickly too the Conflict would be gone I' th midst of Wars or anguish Men indure If any can them certainly assure That in short time their Troubles will be over They straight rouse up their spirits to recover And patiently resolve to bear the smart For this is like a Cordial to the Heart All this thou knew'st and more abundantly Yet Sins dire weight so heavily did lie That with strong groans horror thou didst cry The Torments Lord of Hell took hold on thee Our Souls from that devouring Wrath to free But why didst thou into a Garden go Thus to encounter with the hellish Foe Was it because there first began our woe Or was it Lord to have us call to mind When we in Walks and Gardens pleasures find What thou didst
heard a Sacred Story told Fill'd full of Wonders Wonders which unfold Such depths of Wisdom depths of Grace and Love Which none can comprehend it is above The reach of men no knowledg is so high That can conceive of it nay Angels pray Into this thing this Myst'ry is so deep It all the glorious Seraphims doth keep In holy admiration they 'r amaz'd To see how all the Attributes are rais'd In equal Glory and do sweetly shine In their own proper Sphere alike divine Here by diviner Art you all may find What was in our great God's eternal mind Before the Earth's foundation long was laid Or e're bright Sol his glorious beams display'd Respecting Man whom he foresaw would fall And bring his Soul thereby into sad thral Here may you with much ease and joy espy The great result of the blest Trinity In that eternal Council held above About the Soul the object of Christ's Love Here also here 's a proof of true affection And how to love from hence let 's take direction Who ever had or shew'd such love as he Who for his Love was nailed to the Tree But hark some do enquire they long to hear What is become of th' Soul he loves so dear Lo from the Grave he 's come he looks about He searches every place to find her out What is the fled and where in what strange Isâ—â— Of 〈◊〉 and darkness lurks she all this while Good Reader urge me not I 'le let thee hear That which may melt thy Soul into a tear Excuse my Pen for what its lines shall speak Such Marble hearts as cannot melt must break To leave off here I 'm sure it is not fit Nor would I write what you would have unwrit But since it doth upon the Soul reflect It matters not how much we do detect The folly which doth in the Sinner lie When Soveraign Grace exalted is thereby My Heart and Pen seem both to be at strife To paint unkindness forth unto the life Wilt Thou who dost the Muses aid afford Divine assistance that each pow'rful word May rend a heart at least and every line Turn Kingdoms and whole Nations into brine Of their own tears teach me O Lord the skil T' extract the spirit of grief O let my Quil Like Moses Rod make Adamants to fly That tears may gush like Rivers from each eye How can it once be thought that such a Friend Who loveth thus doth thus his love commend And in such sort so strangely condescend Should when all 's done by her contemned be Though he 's most high and she of base degree The grand design the end and reason why This Prince from Heaven came was scourg'd did die Was to redeem the Soul and so endeavour To get her love and marry her for ever As is before declar'd But will you hear How things are carry'd how they manag'd are The time is come you 'l find by what ensues That this great Lord his Suit a-fresh renews When Sacred Love runs thus with greatest force What pity is 't ought should disturb its course How can the Soul refuse to entertain A Lover which for her with shame was slain But stop again my Muse thou must give o're The Prince is come lo he is at her door Jesus Prince of Light Most precious Soul I now am come again Behold 't is I who for thee have been slain How is 't with thee hast thou not heard the news What for thy sake I suffer'd by the Jews That through a Sea of blood and sorrows great I now am come with bowels to intreat Thee to embrace the offer I present And first of all with tears do thou repent That ever thou hast entertained Sin That has to me so very bitter bin Soul Repent This is a melancholly strain It suits with such whose lives are fill'd with pain And guilty are of some notorious crime Whose glass is near run out whose precious time Draws to an end 't is good for such indeed To look about them and repent with speed But thus 't is not with me I know no sorrow I 'le wave that work I 'le wave it till to morrow To morrow I mean till some fitter season I see no cause alas I know no reason To hark to thoughts that may disturb my peace When joys abound and sweat delights increase Repent of what strange kind of voice shall I Amazed stand yet can no danger ' spy JESVS No reason why Ah Soul art still so blind Wounded from head to foot and canst thou find No ground of grief no cause to lay to heart Thy horrid guilt nor yet the bitter smart Which I indur'd for thee to prevent Severer Wrath severer punishment And dost not savour this sweet word Repent 'T is well there 's room a call a season fit There 's thousand Souls who are denied it Dar'st dar'st adventure still to live in Sin What crucifie thy dying Lord agin Were not my pangs sufficient must I bleed Afresh O must thy sinful pleasures feed Upon my torments and augment the story Of the sad passion of the Lord of Glory Is there no pity in thee what no remorse Within thy breast Seek seek a firm divorce Betwixt thy self and Sin do thy endeavour To break that league depart depart for ever Did I not suffer to dissolve the knot Between thee and all Lust and wilt thou not Regard me now but entertain my Foe What cruel unto me and thy self too I prethee Soul bethink thy self and yield And let thy Lovers for my sake be kill'd Ah let them die who if they live will be Thy death at last who have bin death to me Soul Thosâ— joys are sweet which do delight my heart Ah! how can I and sinful Objects part Must gainful Lusts and those which honour's yield At once be put to th' Sword And those be kill'd Which so much pleasure unto me afford How can it be alas it is too hard The thoughts of it's a perfect death to me Lord say no more I cannot yield to thee Jesus Ah! Didst thou know poor Soul what 't is to sin And how my Soul for it has tortur'd bin Thou wouldst revenged be on it I 'm sure And a divorcement speedily procure Or didst thou know what grief it is to me To be contemned and despis'd by thee Such churlish Answers wouldst thou not return To him whose soul fervent love do's burn To thee poor wretch and only for thy good 'T is that I seek and sought with tears of blood Once more I ask thy love I cannot leave thee Until my everlasting Arms receive thee Soul If I may have those pleasures which delight me Whose amorous glances sweetly do invite me To love them dear who stollen have my heart J am contented thou shouldst have some part Of my affection Worldly joy is sweet And I resolve to take some part of it Jesus Ungrateful Soul did I not wholly give My self for thee and shall I now receive
mourns Ah! how she weeps she crys And water runs like fountains from her â—ys Now her whole Souls dissolved into tears By Love-sick passions yet she 's fill'd with fears Lest Christ should now with angry frown deny To give her one sweet aspect of his Eye Because his love she had so long refus'd And wondrous patience shamefully abus'd Oh! now she spends whole days nights in prayer She sighs and grieves but canâ—t see Christ appear The panting Hart ne'r long'd for Water-brooks More than does she for some reviving looks From the great Prince the God of Love Grace But he at present seems to hide his face But stop my Musâ— hark how the Winds do roar All storms i' th Soul alasâ— are not yet o're No sooner did the Old-man cast his Eyes And view'd this change but in great wrath did rise For to renew the War he joins afresh With scatter'd force of Will and Lusts of th' flesh To make what strength they can with hellish spite The Devil 's with these conquer'd pow'rs unite Arm'd with despair and like to Lamps wch make The greatest blaze at going out they take Their blunt and broken Weapons in their hand Resolving Christ in her shall not command Nor she desert their cause nor break her Vows With Sin and Self and so become Christ's Spouse But now I find in vain they do resist True Grace is come the Spirit doth assist Sin World the Flesh nor Devil can long stand Before the Spirits strong and pow'rful hand See how the Spirit now doth search about To find each Sin and cursed Darling out Did you never behold in what dread sorâ— The wide-mouth'd Canon plays upon the Fort And how by whole-sail it doth batter down The shattered walls of a besieged Town Even so the Spirit with his powerful Sword Makes glorious slaughter will no Truce afford Kills all before him will no Quarter give Nor will he suffer any Lust to live The Strong-man Satan quakes good reason why A stronger's come a stronger he doth spy Is enter'd in O therefore he 's much pain'd All all is gone and he himself is chain'd The Old-man trembling likewise thinks to fly Into some lurking-corner secretly To hide himself but th' Spirit 's piercing Sight Discovers him and now with heavenly might Laid on such strokes and gave him such a wound Wch with dire vengance brought him to the ground Now the Affections's chang'd and Will doth yield Being willing made says Grace shall have the Field O happy season and thrice long'd-for hour This is the day of God's most mighty Power Upon the Soul But hark methinks I hear Most bitter sighs and groans sound in mine Ear. The Soul 's afflicted it is she doth mourn To think what sorrows for her Christ hath born She hates nay loaths her self to th' very dust And seeks to mortifie each former Lust And something more doth still perplex her mind Him whom she dearly loves she cannot find Her heart I fear will quickly burst asunder If any long time she should be prest under This heavy weight no grief like hers is there Who can alas a wounded Spirit bear She 's almost swallow'dâ— up in deep despair You next shall hear if you attention lend How she bewails the absence of her Friend Soul Ah me I faint my Spirits quite decay And yet I cannot die O who can stay My sinking Soul whilst I these sorrows feel My feeble knees under their burden reel Infâ—rnal deeps black gulphs where horror lies Open their ghastly mouths before mine Eys O wretched Soul curs'd Sin I might have been The Lamb's fair Bride and a Celestial Queen Had I imbrac'd my Lord my King my Love Who was more faithful than the Turtle Dove O had I then receiv d him in mine Arms He would have sav'd me from eternal harms But now I fear those happy days are past And I poor wretch shall into Hell be cast Bound up in fetters and eternal chains Of burning Wrath and everlasting pains O sinful Soul I who have lightly set By the blest Prince who would have paid my debt O he that would have freely quit my score Ah! Now I fear I shall ne're see him more Could I but once more hear his Sacred Voice I would make him my joy and only choice But 's Wooing-time I fear is out of date 〈…〉 but dread it is too late I mâ—lt Lord into tears whilst thou the Sun Of precious Light art hid where shall I run For Light and comfort in this dolesom hour Whilst I lie drenched in this brinish shower More would she speak but her great passion stops Her mournful speech whilst her eys stood-gates opeâ— Smote with despair so faint she scarce appears To breath or live but by her sighs and tears A Friend amidst this passion straight arriv'd Whose shining beams and lustre much reviv'd The troubl'd Soul on every side that she Cry'd out O heavenly Spirit it is thee Who with Diviner and mysterious Art Did such illustrious beams of Glory dart Which did not only tend to joy and peace But much inflam'd her heart made love increase And lo before her Eys she doth behold The Prince to stand whose Glory to unfold Is 'bove the reach of Man or Seraphim And thus had she a blessed sight of him Like as the Sun breaks forth beneath a Cloud Whose conqu'ring light cast off each envious shroud And round about his beauteous beams displays Making her Earth like Heav'n with his bright rays This glorious Aspect of his lovely Eye Which she through Faith beheld did by and by With such transports or Raptures on her seize And from her former sorrows gave her â—ase Yet could she not be fully satisfy'd Until the Marriage-knot was firmly ty'd A Promise she endeavours to procure To make Christ's Love and Pardon to her sure She to this purpose does her self address To him she loves with sweet composedness Of heart and mind tho thinking what she 'd bin She 's under fears and oft distrest again Much questioning for want of Faith how he Could e're forget past wrongs and injurie Soul Life of my life alas Lord what am I A wretched Creature who deserves to die A thousand deaths nay and a thousand more For wounding thee within without all o're In every part O this doth make me mourn It melts my heart to think what thou hast born For a vile worm But wilt thou view the wound That 's made in me Lord I am drench'd drown'd In bloud and brinish tears my wasting breath And sighing Soul will period soon in Death Unless thou seal and dost confirm to me Thy Love by promises O! shall I see Thy hand stretch'd out or shall I hear thee say Come come to me poor Soul O come away 'T is thou that wilt not bruise the broken reed Hurt not my sores nor crush the wounds that bleed O let my chilled Soul feel the warm fires Of thy sweet Voice that my dissolv'd