Shall dare approach us; we shall there no more Through melancholly clouds, and say, One everlasting saboth there shall runne Dan. xii. 13. But goe thou thy way untill the end be; for thou shalt rest, and stand up in thy lot at the end of the dayes. DAY OF JUDGEMENT. WHEN through the north a fire shall rush And rowle into the east, And like a firie torrent brush And sweepe up south and west, When all shall streame and lighten round, Both stars and elements confound, And quite blot out their names, When thou shalt spend thy sacred store And low as ere they lay before When like a scrowle the heavens shall passe And vanish cleane away, And nought must stand of that vast space When one lowd blast shall rend the deepe, Summon up all that are asleepe Unto a second birth, When thou shalt make the clouds thy seate, The quick and dead, both small and great, O then it will be all too late To say, "What shall I doe?" Repentance there is out of date, And so is mercy too. Prepare, prepare me then, O God! Give me, O give me crosses here, Still more afflictions lend! That pill, though bitter, is most deare That brings health to the end. Lord, God! I beg nor friends nor wealth, Three things I'de have, my soule's chief health, And one of these semes loath, A living FAITH, a HEART of flesh, This last will keepe the first two fresh, 1 Pet. iv. 7. The end of all things is at hand; be ye therefore sober, and watch unto prayer. RELIGION. My God, when I walke in those groves And leaves thy Spirit doth still fan, Under a juniper some house, Others beneath an oake's green boughs, Here Jacob dreames and wrestles ; there Another time by th' angell, where He brings him water with his bread. In Abraham's tent the winged guests Nay thou thyselfe, my God, in fire, Is the truce broke? or 'cause we have Or is't so, as some green heads say, No, no: Religion is a spring, That from some secret, golden mine But, in her long and hidden course, Then drilling on learnes to encrease So poison'd breaks forth in some clime, Just such a tainted sink we have, Heale then these waters, Lord; or bring thy flock, Since these are troubled, to the springing rock; Looke downe, great Master of the feast; O shine, And turn once more our water into wine! Cant. iv. 12. My sister, my spouse is as a garden inclosed, as a spring shut up, and a fountain sealed. THE SEARCH. 'Tis now cleare day I see a rose F |