Where freed souls dwell by living fountains On everlasting, spicy mountains!
Alas! my God! take home thy sheep; This world but laughs at those that weep.
But where to act that none shall know; Where I shall have no cause to fear
An eye or ear,
What man will show?
If nights, and shades, and secret rooms, Silent as tombs,
Will not conceal nor assent to
My dark designs, what shall I do? Man I can bribe, and woman will Consent to any gainful ill;
But these dumb creatures are so true, No gold nor gifts can them subdue. "Hedges have ears," saith the old sooth, "And ev'ry bush is something's booth;" This cautious fools mistake, and fear Nothing but man when ambush'd there.
Was shown one day in a strange glass That busie commerce kept between God and his creatures, though unseen. They hear, see, speak,
And into loud discoveries break,
As loud as blood. Not that God needs Intelligence, whose spirit feeds All things with life, before whose eye Hell and all hearts stark naked lye.
But he that judgeth as he hears,
He that accuseth none, so steers
His righteous course, that though he knows All that man doth, conceals or shows, Yet will not he by his own light, Though both all-seeing and all right, Condemn men; but will try them by A process, which ev'n man's own eye Must needs acknowledge to be just.. Hence sand and dust
Are shak'd for witnesses, and stones, Which some think dead, shall all at once With one attesting voice detect
Those secret sins we least suspect.
For know, wilde men, that, when you erre, Each thing turns scribe and register,
And, in obedience to his Lord,
Doth your most private sins record.
The law delivered to the Jews, Who promis'd much, but did refuse Performance, will for that same deed Against them by a stone proceed;
Whose substance, though 'tis hard enough, Will prove their hearts more stiff and tuff. But now, since God on himself took What all mankinde could never brook, If any (for he all invites)
His easie yoke rejects or slights, The gospel then, for 'tis his word, And not himself,* shall judge the world, Will by loose dust that man arraign, As one than dust more vile and vain.
WHAT happy, secret fountain, Fair shade, or mountain,
Whose undiscover'd virgin glory
Boasts it this day, though not in story,
Was then thy dwelling? Did some cloud, Fix'd to a tent, descend and shrowd
My distrest Lord? or did a star,
Beckon❜d by thee, though high and far, * St. John, xii. 47, 48.
In sparkling smiles haste gladly down To lodge light and increase her own? My dear, dear God! I do not know What lodged thee then, nor where nor how; But I am sure thou dost now come Oft to a narrow, homely room,
Where thou too hast but the least part;
My God, I mean my sinful heart.
St. Luke, xxiii. 11.
"IF any have an ear,"
Saith holy John,* "then let him hear! He that into captivity
Leads others shall a captive be.
Who with the sword doth others kill, A sword shall his blood likewise spill. Here is the patience of the saints, And the true faith which never faints."
Were not thy word, dear Lord! my light, How would I run to endless night, And persecuting thee and thine, Enact for saints myself and mine! But now enlighten'd thus by thee, I dare not think such villany;
Nor for a temporal self-end
Successful wickedness commend.
For in this bright, instructing verse Thy saints are not the conquerors; But patient, meek, and overcome Like thee, when set at naught and dumb. Armies thou hast in heaven, which fight And follow thee all cloath'd in white; But here on earth, though thou hadst need, Thou wouldst no legions, but wouldst bleed. The sword wherewith thou dost command Is in thy mouth, not in thy hand, And all thy saints do overcome By thy blood, and their martyrdom.
But seeing soldiers long ago
Did spit on thee, and smote thee too;
Crown'd thee with thorns, and bow'd the knee,
But in contempt, as still we see,
I'le marvel not at ought they do, Because they us'd my Savior so;
Since of my Lord they had their will, The servant must not take it ill.
Dear Jesus, give me patience here, And faith to see my crown as near, And almost reach'd, because 'tis sure If I hold fast, and slight the lure. Give me humility and peace, Contented thoughts, innoxious ease,
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