And let that lady think herself a queen, And let that soldier most that valour love, Where lack of faith in coward fear doth prove And let the lawyer look on justice' lines, And know that God will right the poor man's wrong; And that such lawyers as are true divines, Do love the Muses sing of mercy's song. And let the merchant love that traffic best Where travail finds the treasure of God's grace, While greedy minds, that fill the golden chest, And let the scholar that doth study most, Find out the truth of life's eternal treasure; And think all labour in his study lost, Where God his grace gives not the spirit pleasure. And let the lover leave his wanton look, With such illusions as enchant the mind; And only love the beauty of that book, Abhor the Devil, and he will depart: Grace is as near as sin, if you will crave it; Cry unto Christ, whom you have crucified; Be sure, in mercy doth your bliss begin. Believe his word, seek to obey his will, And know the work is his, and none of yours; Strive to do well, and fly the way to ill, And be submissive to supernal powers. Be patient, in the cross of any care; Repentant, in remembrance of amiss; Constant in faith, love God without compare, And give all glory to that name of his. Hate him that speaks against his majesty, Love him in soul that will forsake him never; And know, the scorners of the Deity Shall all be damn'd, and fry in hell for ever. Go to your closet; lovely there alone Bleed forth in tears the truth of your belief: And you shall see your smallest spirit's groan Will find a grace to ease you of your grief. For he that knows the secret's of your thought, You shall be the dear daughter of his love, And like a father he will look upon you, And in his mercy so much comfort prove, That you shall never more be woe-begone you. Your soul in heaven shall half already be; The angels 'gin to set your part to sing; Your spirit's eye shall, in some graces, see And you, all ravish'd with your heavenly joy, Will so his gracious, glorious name adore, That being healed of your soul's annoy, This hateful world shall be your love no more. And you, of men that have been long admir'd For many worths well worthy admiration, Shall then of angels be as much desir'd, For heavenly grounds of grace's confirmation. And God himself so near himself will set you In grace's seat, where mercy so will love you, That faith's regard will never more forget you, Nor sin, nor death, nor devil shall remove you. But where the saints and angels are reciting The heavenly truth of high Jehovah's story, Your ravish'd soul in such divine enditing Shall evermore be singing of his glory. To the assured hope of which high grace, In your good favour beg that blessed place, GLORIA IN EXCELSis deo. THE BLESSED WEEPER. Y thoughts amaz'd, I know not how of late: Methought I saw a silly woman weep, And with her weeping, as it seem'd, so pleas'd, The place near which she sate was like a grave, Two blessed angels and one Lord of bliss, |