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11. Therefore beware in any wise,

352. Keep well your Watch alway : Be sure of Oil within your lamp,


Ontent thyself with Patience Let not your light decay.

With Christ to bear the cross of 12. For me, tho' death may snatch pain, my cloak,

Who can and will thee recompence My body, into dust;

A thousandfold with joys again : Yet I am sure to have a Soul, Let nothing cause thy Heart to quail,

When Deach hath done his worft. Launch out thy boat, hale up thy fail, 13. And tho' I leave a little duft,

And be thou sure thou shalt attain That's scatter'd all abroad,

Unto the Port that ihall remain,
I shall receive it safe again,
When God shall see it good.

+ 353 14. For my Preserver, I am sure,

HO would know Sin, let Doth live for evermore,

him repair And litteth high upon the heav'ns ;

To Olivet, there shall he see For whom I hunger sore,

A Man so wrung with pains, that 15. Ev'n as the Deer, with deadly

Hair wounds

And Skin, and Garments bloody be. Escaped from the spoil,

Sin is that press, which forceth pain Doth haite by all the means he may To hunt his food thro' ev'ry vein. To seek unto the soyl :

2. Who knows not Love, let him 16. Ofwhom I hope to have a crown

assay That always shall remain,

That Juice, which on the Cross a And to enjoy a perfect Peace From all my woe and pain.


Did let abroach ; then let him say, R. S.

If ever he did taste the like.

Love is that liquor most divine,

Which my God's Blood is, but my

E fervent in the Truth,
Altho’it suffer blame :

Likewise apply your Youth
To stick unto the same;

Here is a Balsam, or indeed a

That when old Age is come,
And death begins to call,

Dropping from Heav'n, which doch

both cleanse and close The truth may be your staff

All sorts of wounds; and seek thou To stay you up withal.

no repose, 2. And tho' it bring rebuke, Until thou find and use it to thy

And make you kiss the Cross, Good. Yet is it a reward

To all that suffer loss :
For if ye carry Christ,

And walk the perfect Way,
Ye shall pofiess the gold
That never shall decay.


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3. Or else give tears to drown them

as they grow; The Lord's-day, Rev. i. In you Redenption measures all my

days, HE sev'ral Sundays of And equal to the wound the plaifter man's life,

lays : Thredded together on Time's string, You taught the Book of life my Make bracelets to adorn the Wife

name, that so, Of the eternal glorious King : On Sunday heaven's gate

Whatever future fins should me mifWith gifts more plentiful than hope. Your firt Acquaintance might dis

call, 2. This day my dearest Saviour rose, And did inclose this Light for his ;

credit all. That as each beast his manger knows, Man might not of his fodder miss :

357. So Chriff took in this piece of ground, Fill d it with herbs for our each

Holy Communion.


of Nourishment and 3. nd where the week-days trail on Lord, thou creep's into my breaft;

strength, ground,

Small Quantities do serve for length, Thy fight is higher, as thy birth :

While thou wouldst make my Way O let me take thee at the bound, Leaping with thee from eight to But they, to meet Sin's force and art, eight,

Do spread their Force thro' ev'ry Till we in Heaven shall alight.


2. Thou art a Day of facred mirch ! IN Way of Nourishment and

my Reit:



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Baptism. .

Ive me my captive Soul, or


My body also thither! "A She that fees a dark and fhady grove,

Another Lift like this, will make

Them both to be together. Stays not, but looks beyond it to the sky;

2. Before that sin turn'd flesh to fone, So when I view my Sins, mine eyes

And all our lump to leaven;

A fervent Sigh might well have More backward Atill, and to that

blown Water fly,

Our innocent duft to Heaven. 2. Which is above the heav'ns,whose 3, For sure when Adam did not know spring and vent

To fin, or fin to fmother; Is in my dear Redeemer's pierced He might to heav'n from paradise fide.

go, O bleffed Streams ! either you do As from one Room t'another. prevent,

4. Thou hast restor'd us to this Ease And stop my sins from growing thick By this thy heav'nly Blood, and wide;

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My chief Good ! O my cbies And Ipread thy golden wings on me,

Which I can go to when I please,

361; : And leave th' earth to their food.

Whitsunday. 359.

Isten, sweet Dove ! unto my 'O chief How shall I measure out thy Blood ? Hatching my tender heart so long, How shall I count what thee befel, Till it get wing, and Ay with Thee. And each Grief tell ? And each Grief 2. Where is that fire, which once detell,

scended 2. Then let each Hour

On thy Apostles ? thou did it then Of my whole life one Grief devour; Keep open house, richly attended, That thy diftress through all may Feasting all comers by twelve Men. run,

3. Lord ! tho' we change, thou art And be my Sun.

the same, 3. Or rather let

The same sweet God of love and Of Sins my heart the better get ;

light; That, as each beast his Cure doth Restore this Day, for thy great know,

Name, I mine may too.

To its ancient mirac'lous Right. 360.

362. Easter.

7 Ith what Bounty and rare

clemency, Wake, fad Heart, whom Lord, halt thou redeem'd and set us forrow drowns !

free! Unfold thy forehead from its frowns,

Abject, hadît thou let us run, Take up thine eyes which feed on

Men had stoop'd t'adore the sun; earth,

Now we shall be better gods than he, Thy Saviour comes, and with him 2. Thou hadst two rare cabinets of mirth!

thy own, He left his Grave cloaths, that we Trinity, and Incarnation ; might, when grief

But thou hast unlock'd them both, Draws sighs and tears, not want a

Made them Jewels to betroth

Unto thyself mortal Flesh and bone, 2. Now, heart! if thou doft not with 3. The more fately is the Trinity, stand,

Whose Light Sparkling does access Nor, hanging down, break from his

deny; Hand,

Therefore thou dost this not show Christ's Resurrection thine may be;

Fully to us,

till th'

blow He, as he riseth, raiseth thee,

Powder in our eyes which makes us That as his Death had calcin'd thee

see. to dust,

4: But all thy Sweets in the other His Life may make thee Gold, and grow, much more just.

All thy Mercies thither flock and



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The former at first affrights,

364. This allures us with delights ; Since ourselves have such, this Box

Mattins. we know. 5. Yet man is reserv'd and dark to thee;

But thou art ready there to

catch When thou ask'ít a Heart, how cavils he?

My Morning-foul and sacrifice : His flesh-cabinet within

We must together make a match. Has a box apart for Sin, 2. But, O my God, what is a Heart ? Stealing from thee ftill clandestinely. Silver, or gold, or precious stone,

Or ftar, or rainbow, or a part

Of all, or all of them in one ?' 363.

3. What is, I say, a human Heart,

That thou should it it so eye and woo, Weet were the Days,when thou Pouring upon it all thy Art,

didit lodge with Lot, As hadit thou nothing else to do? Struggle with Jacob, sit with Gideon, 4. Man's happiness and whole estate Advise with Abraham, when thy Amounts (and richly) to serve Thee : pow'r could not

He did not heav'n and earth create, Encounter Moses' strong complaint Yet them and th’Author does enjoy. and moan.

5. Teach me yet more thy love to 2. One might have fought, and found

know, thee presently

That this new Light which now I see, At some fair oak, or bush, or cave, May both the works and Workman or well :

show, Is my God this way? no (they would A Ladder prove to climb to Thee.

reply) He is to Sinai gone, as we heard

365. tell. 3. But now thou dost thyself immure 1. Each me, my God and King, and close

In all things thee to see ; In some one corner of a feeble Heart; And what I do in any Thing, Where yet both sin and Satan, thy To do it as for Thee ! old foes,

To scorn the Senses' sway, Do pinch and streighten thee in thy While still to thee I tend :

In all I do, be thou the Way, I see the World grows old ! when In all be thou the End. as the heat

may of thee partake: Of thy great Love once spread, it in

Nothing so small can be,

But draws, when acted for thy fake, Now closeted, from fin's chill doth

Greatness and Worth from thee. retreat, Till it return with justice and all 4. If done t'obey thy laws,

Ev'n fervile Labours shine ;

Hallow'd is toil, if this the cause,
The meanest Work divine.


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A Pacred Dove,


3.Who did leave his Father's throne,

To assume thy flesh and bone ?

If He had not liv'd for thee,

Thou hadft dy'd most wretchedly. TY Lord! what have I brought


He so far thy Good did plot, thee home

That his own self he forgot. This Day! have I discharg'd the If He had not dy'd for thee, debt,

Thou had it liv'd in Misery. Which this day's Favours did beget?

5. He that loseth gold, tho' dross, I ran, but all i brought was foani. 2. Oft ends in bubbles, balls of wind, He that finds a silver Vein,

Tells to all he meets, his cross :
Thy care spent on me and thy coft; Thinks on it, and thinks again.
Mere wind to Thce, whom I have
cross d,

6. Can a man have space of breath

'Twixt his Sius and Saviour's Death? But wild-fire to my troubled Mind.

Who in heart not ever kneels,
Yet still in love thou goeft on,

Neither Sin nor Saviour feels.
And now wilt close my weary eyes,
Saying to man, “ It doth suffice,
“ Henceforth repose, your work is

“ done.

ND art thou griev'd, * sweet 4. In Darkness, as thy Ebony box, Thou doft inclose us, till the Day When I am four, and cross thy love ? Puts our Amendment in our way, Griev'd for a worm, which when I And gives new motion to our clocks. tread, 5. The Day or Night, which shews I pass away and leave it dead ? more love?

# Eph. iv. 30. That is theGale,and this the harbour ; 2. I sin not to my grief alone, That is the Walk, and this the Arbour; But to my God's too; he doth groan. Or that the garden, this the grove.

Weep, eyes! the God of love doth 6. No fingle minute 'scapes thy Breast, grieve : But brings a favour from above ; Weep, foolish heart ! and weeping I see, my God, thou art all Love, live. In which, more than in Bed, I reft.

3. Still if I wail not, (ftill to wail,

Nature denies, and fich would fail) 3673

Lord, pardon! for the Son makes

Ivers run, and Springs each My want of tears with Store of

Know their home and get them gone:
Can't be idle, canli thou play!

369. Foolish Soul, who sin’d to day?

Hou, the dearSinners-Friend, 2. If, poor soul, thou hast no tears,

to thee Woud! thou hadit no Faults nor Lost and undone for Aid I flee, fcars.

Compaflionate a wretched Soul, But, if yet thou idle be.

'Tisthou alone canit make me whole. Foolish loul, who dy'd for thee?

2. Eter.

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