GRAPES FROM CANAAN; OR THE Believers present taste of future Glory: Expressed in a short Divine POEM, The issue of spare Hours: And Published at the Request, and for the Entertainment of those whose hopes are above their present enjoyments.
1 Cor. 13.12. For now we see through a glass;, darkly; but then face to face: now I know in part, but then shall I know, even as also I am known.
1 Joh. 3.2.—Now are we the sons of God, and it doth not appear yet what we shall be; but we know, that when he shall appear, we shall be like him, for we shall see him as he is.
London, Printed by T. L. for the Author, and are to be sold at the sign of the Greyhound in Pauls Church-yard, 1658.
To the Right Honorable, Francis Rous Esq; Provost of Eaton, and one of the Council to his Highness the Lord Protector.
Honorable Sir,
I Hope You will not conceive that I hold any Compliance with the scribling humour of this age, or that as dark as I am, I should so little see into my self, as not to know my rude and undigested Labours unworthy publick light: When I first design'd within my self the composure of this ensuing Poem, my Thoughts were not in the least tendency for a Publication; yet through the perswasion of some Friends (whose better judgements I could not but value above mine own private Opinion) I have sont my unfledg'd Muse abroad into the World, humbly assuming [Page]the boldness to shrowd it under the wing of Your Honours Protection, assuring my self it will find the better welcom for the name of the Patron. Sir, This small Manuel, I confess, comes towards you untrimmed, its Innocency being its best Dress, and its Poetry lying more in Feet than Fancy; yet is it Orthodox, I hope, and Theologically substantial: The subject matter is Divine, answering Your Affections; Sublime, not unbeseeming Your Personage; most Necessary, and therefore not unworthy Your serious Thoughts. And for the Meanness of the Author, the Heathen man pleads for me; Non quis, sed quid dicit attendito, not who speaks, but what is spoken ought to be considered. This little Volume, as it proceeds from me, hath not the least enforcement of a Tolle, lege, written upon it, yet (not to disown the in-comings of Divine assistance) like the stone Garamantides, habet intus Aureas guttas, it hath Golden Drops within it self, enriching the believing Soul with a lively hope of a blissful immortality. My principal inducement of Dedicating this to Your Honor, is, the remembrance of undserved Favours, which challenge more than [Page]an airy Complement at my hands. The sing alar Love and Respect You bore to my good Father while he lived, and the real Testimony of Your continued Affection to my self, hath engaged my most active Thoughts to study something which may in some measure render me sensible of both; These few lines therefore, the first Fruits of my weaker Attainments of this Nature, I present with all Humility to Your Acceptance, in hope that as they may prove a Mite cast into the Treasure of GOD'S glory and the publick good, so they will signifie to Your Honour a Mind sensible of, and a Heart thankeful for the many free and noble Favours vouchsafed to my Relations and my Self. Sir, I am very confident Your judicious Eye may running read many rude unpolish't Lines in this Draught of Eternity; and therefore I make it my humble Request, That as the Painter of old drew Alexander with his finger upon his defective Eye; So Your known Candour would put a favourable gloss upon my imperfections, and dash out my Errata by a charitable connivence. In the confidence whereof I shall only raise the Application of my humble Suite to Almighty God, That he would make [Page]You no less faithful in, than able for his Service, that after You have had a glimpse of his glory in the Kingdom of Grace. You may have a fulness of his grace in the Kingdom of Glory; with the which Thoughts upon my Heart in the best seasons of my Soul, I shall be ever ready to approve my self
Your Honors humble Servant, in the Faith of Christ, Francis Taylor.
The Author to the Christian READER.
PLace not on earth thy chief delight,
In which there is more black than white:
VVho set their Hearts on things below,
And on the World their Thoughts bestow,
Of Heavens joy they little know.
Earth's an Impostumated Bubble,
A Map of Misery and Trouble;
Our Silver here is mixt with Dross,
Our sweet with sour, our gain with loss,
No comfort here without a cross.
Let Heaven be thy Meditation,
Climbe thither in thy Contemplation;
VVho such a Pearl have in their eye,
The worlds Enjoyments by and by
VVill trample on as Vanity.
No seeds of woe are to be found
I'th' furrows of that holy ground;
Yea that Caelestial Paradise
A stranger is to sin and vice,
No Serpent there is to entice.
E're Death thy Body in the wombe
Of Mother-Earth again entombe,
Be sure to get an interest
In that prepared place of rest,
Whose happiness can't be exprest.
Bid Earth adieu, and fix thy Love
Upon those endless joyes above;
Let no Decoy thy Heart entice,
But still pursue the Pearl of Price,
Till thou arrive in Paradise.
Deo, Opt. Max.
THou great Jehovah, who alone dost dwell
In Light, and Glory inaccessible,
My mind enlighten, help me to unfold
The glory that those blessed ones behold,
VVho are translated far above the sky,
Into the Region of Eternity.
Inspire, and actuate my trembling Muse
VVith heav'nly Raptures, let thy pow'r infuse
Into her, such a rare activity,
That she, above the dreggy earth may fly,
And be ambitious of a glimpse at least
Of glory, and the Saints eternal rest.
Clear up her pur-blind eye, that she may see
VVithin the vail, what ever is to be
Seen by the eye of Faith, and may descry
The blessed Mansions in Eternity:
Then touch her stammering tongue, that she their glory
May pencil out with thine own Oratory,
VVhich best befits a subject so divine,
And makes it with the greater lustre shine.
The Gordian knot of glory to unty
VVould puzzel the acutest ingeny.
O let thy wisdom then, my thoughts direct,
Unveile my dark and clouded intellect.
Guide my unskilful hand, that so I may
VVithout a blot, heav'ns happiness pourtray.
This is indeed, a mountain too sublime
For such an infant Muse as mine to clime:
Yet if thy sacred spirit lead the way
And me conduct, (for which I humbly pray)
I shall adventure, briefly to relate
And draw a Map, of the eternal state
Of those, who in the fragrant bosome ly,
Of soul inamouring felicity.
And since this is a task, that doth require
The lofty aires of an Angelick Lyre;
Yea, since it is a subject so profound;
An Ocean, that no bottom hath, nor bound;
I thee implore (and Lord grant my desire)
That what I can't express, I may admire.
To his Honored Cozin, Mr. Francis Taylor, upon his Divine Poem. [...].
— [...]
[...].
[...] Et Paulo Post. v. 63.
Homer Odys. θ. v. 43.
Ubi forsan seipsum respexisse videatur, qua vulgari fama coecus perhibetur.
[...],
[...].
What Singer's this the Poet calls for thus?
Me thinks Dear Taylor thou'rt this Demodocus.
'Tis thine Urania, that hath given thee,
Instead of eyes, this vein of Poesie.
Thou seest not Earth, yet piercest Heaven, thine eye
Is more sublime, beholds Eternity.
The glaring lusters of the world may please
The lusts of sensual eyes; but none of these
Have ought of real Glory in their sight
VVhose souls are fill'd with a diviner light.
This heavenly light adorns thy nobler mind,
The world's mistaken, that accounts thee blind:
A veile 'tis true is drawn over thy sense,
Yet not without a gracious Providence.
For thus thy God hath made the world to thee
Known as it is, and what't will ever be,
Even darkness still. This hath thy glory bin
While th' Curtain's drawn without, thou'rt light within.
And here thou hast th' advantage too, while we,
That fondly please our selves, and say we see,
Yet must confess, so long as day and night
Do keep their constant turns, darkness and light
Have their successions in us, and that all
The light, we have, is but an interval.
These changes touch not thee, to whom (we say)
'Tis ever dark, and yet 'tis ever day.
Thy soul beholds that glory, and that crown,
1 Cor. 2.9.
VVhich never yet to mortal eye was shewen.So true is that even in Philosophie,
'Tis not the eye, the soul alone doth see.
Thou
So are the Prophets called Seers, 1 Sam. 9.9.
seest &And Guides, Ps. 78.72. Acts 8.31.—35.
guidest too, that others mayBy thy Seraphick Poem find the way
To that caelestial throne, yea charm'st their cars
By this the truest harmony of the spheares.
Thus Art doth Piety sweetly greet,
The Muses and the Graces meet.
Ovid. Fastor. l. 1
Felices animae, quibus haec cognoscere primis,
Inque domus super as scandere cura fuit.
Credibile est illos pariter vitiisque Vulg. jocis (que) Sic autem corrigenti Doctissimo D. Grajo nostro lubentiffime assurgo.locisque
Altus humanis exseruisse caput.
[...] Joh. Stileman. M.A. Pastor Ecclesiae Tunbrigignsis in Agro Cantiano.
To his dear Friend, Mr. Francis Taylor, upon his Grapes from Canaan, &c. being nocturnal Meditations on his Restless Bed.
SIght is a blessing, God hath made you blind,
Yet far more blest, in your enlightned mind.
Our pur-blind eyes, which dazle at the glory
Of worldly Objects, fraile and transitory,
Allure our minds, to fix their Meditation
On earthly Vanities, fond Contemplation!
Your Eagle light, piercing beyond the sky,
Beholds the glory of Eternity,
Height-ning your soul, its purer thoughts to place
On the rich substance of immortal Grace.
Sleep is a blessing, which you cannot find,
Yet far more blessed in your waking mind.
Our Nights in sleeping spent, we seem to ly
Among the [...]ad, beneath the Canopy;
No thought of God, no Prayers, nor no Praise,
Can sense-bound sleepers up to Heaven raise.
Your waking mind, among the Living dwells
VVithin the veile, where blessedness excels,
VVhere Saints coelestial, with Angels sing,
Eternal Praise, to the Eternal King.
VVe see those Vines, which in this Desart grow;
You spy that Vine, where Milk and Honey flow;
VVe Clusters pluck by Day, but sowre and tart;
You gather Grapes by Night most sweet, which Art
Had we obtain'd, though neither sight; nor rest,
Yet tasting of such Grapes, we should be blest.
Clement Barling.
To his dark Friend upon his Divine Poem of the Glory of Heaven.
WHen God first will'd the star-light of thine eyes
To set, He then commanded to arise
The Sun-shine of his Glory in thy soul;
And us to see how He, without controul,
Can bring Light out of Darkness, and can make
Thy loss thy gain, thy misery our mistake.
Wee'l therefore praise him for that sight which He
Hath given thee in exchange, and whereby we
Do learn, the less on earth we fix our eye,
The firmer may our hearts be fixt on high.
I'have sometime thought thee blind, but now I see
'Twas my own thoughts were darkned; as for thee,
Thou only hadst thy sight a while sequestred,
To keep thy higher thoughts from being pest'red
With Earths diversions; nay, who will not say,
That reads with care what thou do'st here display,
But that this thy Divine Apocalyps
Doth speak thine eye-sight only in th' eclipse
By th' interposing beams of that great light
Above, whose glory dazles natures sight,
And bids her wink, that grace a glimpse may get
Of what no eye hath seen, nor ear as yet
Hath heard, nor is conceiv'd in any heart,
Except (as now to thee) reveal'd in part.
Henceforth therefore I shall not dare to think
Thee dark, but only that God bad thee wink
A while, till he had taught this froward age
To know, not only from what every page
Of these thy spiritual Opticks tells to all,
But likewise from thy Preaching, and thy Call,
That (maugre all such spirits as are freer
To wrest, than speak the truth) thou art a Seer.
Go on then with thy Muse, let her keep sight
Of what she hath spy'd, and follow by the light
Of Grace, that spirit which taught thy soul this story
Until thy Grace is swallow'd up of Glory.
TO Mr. FRAN. TAYLOR, ON HIS Grapes from Canaan.
Taylor,
THou art no Water Poet, not by wine
Art thou inspir'd, thy genius is Divine,
And stoops not to that Helicon, thy Quill
Soars higher than the proud Parnassus hill;
Thou on the Holy Mount above hast been
In Contemplation, and hid things hast seen:
Like that ston'd Martyr Steven, we may look,
And behold Heaven open'd, in thy Book.
Thy blindness shames, and much out-does our sight;
Our day is dark, and cloudy to thy night:
Thy piercing eyes of Faith, and knowledge pry
Into those things, that in the vaile do lie.
And the third heavens secrets look upon
Which are the blessed Saints rich portion.
Thus that choice vessel Paul, his sight being gone,
Did see more clearly, and had's vision.
I might thee stile the Homer of this age,
Did not thy richer, and sublimer page
Forbid, which in its pure and sacred strain
All Boerry (but Fiction) doth contain;
Thou only measur'd truths dost tell in that
Celestial Globe of thine, and heav'nly Map.
Let profane Poets loose and wanton Muse
Be damned to the Grocer's servile use;
Thine is to us more useful than a star
In Navigation to the Mariner:
It steels the brow 'gainst threats, in storms it chears,
In dangers comforts, animates in fears,
And makes us with a vertuous scorn disdain
To yield in Tryals, and count losses gain:
It doth relieve, although it doth rehearse
(High mysteries) our dulness with its verse.
Thus Artists say, an Emrald standing by
In cutting Jewels, helps the weaker eye.
Tho. Woodrooffe, M. A.
TO His Honoured Friend, Mr. Francis Taylor. ON HIS Heavenly Poem.
Dear Friend,
WEre't not a Solaetisme in Love, I'd say
Welcome from heav'n (for sure y'have been that way)
But if not so, it must from Patmos be,
VVhere you have seen Landskip'd-Eternitie.
Were Metempsychosis in fashion now,
'Tis probable Saint John must live in you:
Your Book's a Fountain, but the Seals are gon,
And all you write is Revelation:
VVhich when I read, my soul is ravish'd, and
(Like to Religion) doth on tip-toe stand,
Threatning departure in sweet extasy,
In which I neither truly live, nor dye;
And what to Plato's Schollar did betide,
(Were't not a crime) I could turn Suicide.
But tell me first, when you did sit above,
In that high azure tent, where stars do move,
Did not our world look like some dirty spot?
Pray say, Could you see it, or could you not?
How vainly then do most by acres guess
At worth, and mis call Riches Happiness!
Nay more, when once your Faith was got within
Those Empyraean Curtains, where no sin
But sinners do find place: pray tell me then
(Your mem'ry's good I know) what were the men
That sang those holy Notes? Did you not see
Some Lawn-sleev'd Saints, and some Presbyterie?
Did not sometimes an Independent ayre,
Sometimes a Baptist-Quaker mingle there?
No doubt there did: how fondly then do we
Fall out i'th' way, who must i'th' End agree!
VVe all embrace one fundamental Light,
Our hands do joyn, but yet our nails do fight.
Come welcome hour, in which my sun shall set,
And Church-yard grass shall be my Coronet:
For who will throw away one Pray'r for Life,
VVhen Heav'n so calm, and Earth so full of strife?
VVhen Christendom her fields are now bespred
All o're with killing-troops and with the dead:
Like Cannibals our weekly-Gazets feed,
On purple Broth which dying Christians bleed:
As if Baptismal water were too faint,
And coole an Element to make a saint;
Our boystrous age winds up the Nation high'r
And needs must be baptiz'd with bloud and fire.
For many years Intelligences came
Proclaiming wilde-fire from the Germane flame,
Where kindred-bloud was mingled with the Rhyne,
To wash away th' excesses of their wine.
And now the sturdy Swede with skilful steel
Doth let all Poland bloud, to make it feel
This two-edg'd truth; when God thinks fit to beat,
Luther shall strike as hard as Mahomet.
But stay; these lines do run too black: my Pray'r
Shall therefore be for Englands passeover:
And while the Maids plant Laurels on your Brow,
I'le sing an Eulogy to Faith, and You.
Triumphant Faith! How stoutly do'st thou scorn
The testimony which from sense is born!
Enoch by Faith Death's Trophyes did out-brave,
And where we fall, he did o're-leap his grave,
Still winding up the weights of flesh so high,
His body step'd into Eternity.
Nought could fore-tel but Faith's Astrology,
The world debauch'd must of a Dropsie dye;
But lest the storm should blow the Globe away,
Good Noah casts Faith's anchor out to stay
The tottring Clod, and in his pinnace sleeps
VVhere all the seminals of life he keeps.
By this when Sarah in her wrinckls lay,
And all her white and red did fade away,
VVhen snow was all the locks she wore, then she
Dandled by Faith her Isaac on her knee.
Faiths Bull-rush 'twas kept Moses like a swan
On Nilus lapp, and when he was grown man
He foild the guilded-dangers of a court,
And made dry paths where whales were wont to sport.
And lest some Atheist, should in Sarcasmes say
Faith then was young, but now shee's weak & gray:
Behold a Christian Homer without eyes
By Faith out-sees two Universities.
William Jacob, [...].
TO His Honoured Friend, Mr. Francis Taylor, Upon His Grapes from Canaan; OR, The Believers present taste of future glory.
AWake my Muse, take up thy Lyre,
And make one of this sacred quire;
Who would not gladly show his art
VVhere ev'ry creature adds its part?
Mark how the Birds do sweetly frame
Their Voice to blaze their Makers fame!
Hark how they chirp and flock together,
Provoking to this work each other!
VVho, though with much alacrity
They all proclaim a Deity,
None to so high a Note can rise
As this rare Bird of Paradise.
Thou art the Orpheus of our age
Whose quill, when storms within do rage,
With such sweet noise doth fill our ear
As can't be told by those that hear.
Thy lines, thy words, and ev'ry letter
Are so well suited to thy matter,
That from King David I'le defend it,
Thou mayst be lineally descended.
He of the Earthly City wrot,
To praise the Heavenly is thy Plot;
VVhose glory doth so shine in thee
Though blind thou can'st not chuse but see.
When once the Soul hath fix't its eye
Upon the Glorie of things on high,
And seen its Christ within the vaile,
What matter though the Body's faile.
Haste then my Soul! VVith this good guide
Haste to that Glory here descri'd;
Thou need'st not fear to go astray,
VVhen this great Seer leads the way.
VVhere Angels and where Seraphim,
VVhere blessed Saints and Cherubin,
Praises continually do sing
To God, our God, and heavenly King.
Frederick Primrose.
Amico suo ingeniosissimo celeberrimi hujus Poematis Authori merito hoc encomiasticon commendat N. [...]. Philo-Porta.
REgia marmoreis plusquam fabricata columnis
Celsa Dei est, sese extendens per inane locorum;
Lucidior gemmis; Chrystallo purior omni
Conspicuo, longe fulvo rutilantior auro:
Firmior & domibus multo fluitantibus orbis;
Nomina, cum titulis, nec non adjuncta sacratis,
Hujus coelestis Paradisi, consuis ipse haec
Omnia Taylere insignis. Beatifica dona,
Fulgoris radiis complentia corpora pura,
Ut (que) sigillatim memores! Ut agilia narres!
Non moritura unquam! Forma nitidissima! Nec non
(Attributa quidem haec!) incompatibilia! Deinde
Lux, & felicitas animarum clara sacrarum;
Cognitio scilicet gemmans, dominum (que) amor erga
Sese & perfectus, collucent versibus aptis.
Haectua depinxit graphice pia, docta Camaena;
(Dulcis Amice) stylum poliit tua lima Britannum,
Carmine suavisono; scandant super aethera laudes.
Non torrem ostendam soli; mea Musa silescet
More Timanthaeo obvolvens haec ardua nube.
To my Loving Friend, Mr. Fran. Taylor, upon his excellent Poem, entituled, Grapes from Canaan, &c.
DEpriv'd of sight can he be said to be
Who sees the light? How true is this of thee!
Thy soul is full of eyes, whose sight refin'd
See far, although thou bodily art blind.
Let this to none a Paradox appear
That thou a blind-man art, and yet a Seer.
Paul was wrap't up into the heavens third story:
So thou, which made thee limne so well its glory.
Thy skill hath made Objects remote t' appear
Close by; and things a distance off seem neer.
Sin is alas! an interposing screen,
A separating wall, which stands between
Glory and us; but by thine heavenly art
Glory's revealed unto us in part.
Thine understandings search hath brought to light
Secrets abstruse; O blindness blest for sight!
The Spaniards Dove Columbus, and our Drake,
(Not Quaking in the least) did undertake
A long, and dang'rous voyage; sayling over
Remotest Seas, new Ilands to discover.
Home they return, their richer vessels hold
A fraught of nought, but glorious luggage Gold.
Had they both Indies, and could Numid-like
Measure their unsumm'd treasure by a strike;
Time would consume it; what a thief is Chink?
The greatest baggs will in the using shrink.
Alas! alas! the Glory they did win
Was earthly, vain; their Bullion falling in
A deep consumption, pin'd away by leasure;
See there the end of their laborious pleasure!
But as for thee (my truly Honor'd Friend)
Thou Rigg'st thy Vessel for an other end.
Thy braver spirit doth with scorn disdain
The roaming here, upon the foaming Main.
Grace is the Ship, thy soul doth go aboard;
Thy Faith's the Sayl, thy Steers-man is Gods Word;
His Spirit's the Wind, that drives thee by degrees
O're the calm back of th' Erythraean seas,
I mean Christ's bloud: thou tak'st a view of heaven,
Returnest richly fraught with Jewels, given
By God himself; by doing good thou thriv'st,
Thy lands enrich'd; this is the trade thou driv'st.
Like Noahs Dove, thou canst not, dost not cease,
Until thou bringst an Olive-branch of Peace.
Wouldst thou view heaven on earth (kind Reader) then
Let thine eye trace the foot-steps of his pen
Steer'd by an others hand; be pleas'd to look
On the Reflections of this precious Book:
And here it is, heavens glorious Objects pass
Unto Faiths eye, through this prospective glass.
Dost thou desire with beauties most sublime
T'enrich thy soul, engarrison'd with slime?
Shake off Earths dangling fetters which keep down
Thy lab'ring soul from rising to its Crown.
The transient pleasures of this Mole-hill Earth,
Afford at best but melancholy mirth:
But joyes in heaven, which are only sure
And stable, shall eternally endure
In spight of time; there the bles'd Saints advance
Their heightned notes above the reach of chance.
Be practically good; bid sin good-b'wy,
And Glory's thine, I'le warrant you; I, I,
'Tis thine, 'tis thine; the heavens have decreed
It thine, it thine. Beatitude indeed!
Wouldst thou be made one of the royal stem,
And Den'son of the New-Jerusalem?
Be sure thou follow this directive way,
And then thou wilt not, nay, thou canst not stray.
Heav'n shield us all from the worlds Philtrecharms,
And hold us fast in his encircling arms;
O may we ever in that Glory rest,
Which our rare Author sweetly hath exprest!
Thrice happy be that soul, who (thirsting) gapes
To drink this liquor, prest from Canaans Grapes.
Canterbury, July 1. 1657.
Nicholas Billingsley.
The Table.
- A Believers present taste of future glory Page 1
- Heavens glory not to be fully dsplaid in this life Page 3
- Heavens Glory set out by 6 Properties Page 8
- 1 Its Altitude ibid
- 2 Its Magnificence Page 10
- 3 Its Purity Page 12
- 4 Its Amplitude Page 14
- 5 Its Brightness ibid
- 6 Its Permanency Page 16
- Heavens glory further set out by sundry Scripture-names, titles & epithites, as Page 18
- 1 A Kingdom Page 19
- 2 A Heavenly Kingdom Page 20
- 3 The Kingdom of God ibid
- 4 An Inheritance Page 21
- 5 An incorruptible Inheritance ibid
- 6 An exceeding & eternal weight of glory Page 22
- The Saints shall be with Christ in heaven Page 24
- They shall be all Kings Page 29
- They shall be all filled with joy Page 31
- They shall have perfect Rest Page 34
- They shall have full Security Page 36
- There shall be a vindication of their names Page 39
- Their Graces shall be perfected Page 42
- [Page]The Beauty and Blessedness of Glorified Bodres Page 44
- 1 They are Immortal Page 46
- 2 Impassible Page 48
- 3 Agile Page 49
- 4 Amtable Page 51
- The Beauty and Blessedness of Glorified Souls Page 52
- 1 Their Knowledge perfected Page 53
- 2 Their Love perfected Page 59
- Five Practical Conclusions Page 64
- Four Marks of our Interest in Heaven Page 75
- A General Conclusion Page 82
- Faiths Triumph Page 86
ERRATA.
In page 3. line 5. for the comprehensible, r. th' incomprehensible: p. 17. l. 9. for man r. men: p. 31. l. 5. for joyn'd r. joyned. p. 40. l. 27. for stiled r. stil'd. p. 47. l. 2. for our r. over. p. 49. l. 21. for at r. it. p. 51. l. 15. r. bodies. p. 62. l. 9. r. keep. p. 62. l. 16. r. wound. p, 71. l. 13. r. makes.
GRAPES FROM CANAAN. OR, The Believers present taste OF Future Glory.
THe lives of Saints are Tragae-comaedies;
Their future joy, their present grief out-vies:
Their death is sweet, although their life be sowr,
Tears in the bud, but Glory in the flower.
The blessed Angels at the port of bliss,
Or portal of the Heavenly edifice,
As Masters of the Ceremonies stand,
To welcome Saints into the Holy Land:
From whence into their Fathers Court strait-way
These Ministring Spirits their new-Guests convey.
The glory that the Blessed there behold
All language is too narrow to unfold:
The glittering stars, which in that Orbe do shine,
No Logick can sufficiently define.
Had I as many tongues as hairs, yet I
Could never set out the resplendency
Of that celestial Paradise above,
For saints ordained by the God of Love;
The shadow of it in the picture I
Can only give, and that imperfectly.
Heavens Glory not to be fully displai'd in this life.
NO eye hath seen, ear heard, or heart of man
At any time conceived hath, or can
The comprehensible sublimity
And glorious mysteries of that most high
And heavenly Wisdom, and unparallel'd
Sweetness, which in the Gospel is reveai'd:
How altogether then unutterable
Is the perfection, how inexplicable
The full, the real, and the actual
Fruition of those Evangelical
Mysterious Revelations, which are even
Accomplish'd to the height in th' highest Heaven.
The eye of man hath seen Earths rarest sights,
Its bravest Ornaments, and chief delights;
Mountains of Chrystal, and rich Mines of Gold,
With Rocks of Diamonds, wondrous to behold,
Ilands of Spices, and the Pearly coast,
(Of which some Travellers so much do boast)
The stately and sublime Pyramides,
Diana's Temple, and such like as these,
Mausolus tombe in all its pompe and pride,
With all the wonders of the world beside.
The Ear hath with the sweetest melody
Oft charmed been, even with such harmony,
As once transported the amazed ear
Of Alexander with a pang (as 't were)
Of pleasing rage, and sweerly did inhance
His spirit with a most delightful dance.
The Heart of man imagine and surmise
Rare pieces can, and strange felicities;
The pebbles on the ground it in conceit
Into rich Pearls can transubstantiate;
Dust into silver, into liquid Oare
The Land encircling Ocean, nay more
With greater beauty it and sweetness can
The bosome of Dame Nature garnish, than
The eye e're saw, each star into a sun
It can convert, and when it so hath done,
Can make those suns far bigger and more bright,
Than that which gilds the heaven with its light.
And yet the height of Evangelical
Wisdome out-shines, and far surpasseth all
That eye, ear, or the heart of men could ever
See, hear, or know, though heightned with endeavor:
And this so rare, and admirable light
On Earth, discovering unto our sight
The treasures of Caelestial and Divine
Wisdome in Christ, is to the richest Mine
Of Gold, but as a grain; yea, lesser than
A drop of water to the Ocean.
When with these sempiternal joyes above
It is compar'd which by the God of Love
For those ordain'd are, that have stricken sayl,
And safely landed are within the vayl.
Oh then how far! How far bayond all measure
Doth the sublimity of heavens pleasure
Transcend the most enlarg'd capacity
Of men? For humane knowledge 'tis too high.
It is a Fruit of our unhappy Fall
With Adam, and the sad Estate of all
That so journe in this vale of misery
To know heavens glory but imperfectly:
From which our clearer and compleater knowledge,
When we 're admitted into Zion Colledge
Shall differ, as a little Infants doth
From his who is arriv'd at perfect growth.
As knowledge by a glass from apprehension
Of real objects, till the great convention,
That fulnesse we of light can't pierce, nor pry
Into the bottomlesse profundity
Of endlesse joyes, nor in that brightnesse dwell,
Which is to mortals unapproachable:
This is reserved to the day of Doom,
When Jesus Christ the Spouses lovely Groom
Shall her conduct into his Fathers tent,
And without spot, her there to him present.
Our Intellects upon necessity
Irradiated supernaturally,
Must be with extraordinary light,
Ere they can have a clear and perfect sight
Of future bliss, or fully comprehend
The brightness of those joyes, which know no end.
It is as easie for a mortal man,
the Globe of Earth to compass with a span,
Or in a Nut-shell the Ocean to contain,
As to describe exactly every vein
Of Heavens Golden Mine—
Philosophers of old could say that even
As Owles eyes are to th' shining Lamp of Heaven;
So are the sharpest and most piercing eyes
Of pregnant wits to Natures mysteries:
Oh then! How strangely would they dazled be,
And even struck stark blind, should they but see
The sparkling lustre, and excessive height
Of Heavens secrets, and immortal light?
But though the whole we cannot fully know,
Yet part we may consider here below;
Although of that o're-flowing Fountain we
Can't have a full draught, yet a taste may be
Attain'd on Earth, though the whole Harvest can't
Be here enjoy'd by th' most sublimed Saint;
Yet of the first-Fruits we a brief survey
May take; the Scriptures to this end display
And shadow out a glympse, by things that are
Esteemed here most excellent and rare.
HEAVENS GLORY Set out by its PROPERTIES.
THe Glory of the Saints eternal rest,
May by its Properties be well exprest.
Heavens Altitude.
THat blessed place which Saints by Faith descry,
Is set out by a mountain great and high:
It hath its scituation far above
The Sun and stars, which in their Orbs do move,
Above those glorious Luminaries, which
With beams of light this lower-world enrich:
In power and pride are worldlings oft-times high,
And though they could their Nests build in the sky,
So firmly, that they thought none could remove them,
Yet shal the saints be shortly far above them:
Their Eagle on his sacred wings shall bear
Them far above the Element of fear.
Their proper house and place of rest is even
Where Christ is in the Empyrean Heaven;
A City whose aspiring walls desie
The scaling Ladders of the Enemy.
A Fort erected far above the skies,
That's too too strong for humane batteries;
A Castle reared on a towring Rock,
No silver Key can ever it unlock:
It fears no underminings, and the shot
Of malice, it is far above (I wor.)
The arrows which are up against it sent,
Do with redoubled force rebound, and rent
The hairy scalps of those who let them fly
From off the string so inconsid'rately.
Heavens Magnificence.
IF all the Architects on Earth should strive,
And lay their heads together to contrive
A stately Palace, and had all the gems,
And precious stones in Princes Diadems;
Yea, all the Diamonds in the world to set
Into it, and to beautifie it, yet
It would be doubtless in comparison,
To Heaven but a darksome dungeon.
The Porch of that celestial Habitation
Doth fill the minds of men with admiration.
Our dazelled eyes unable are to pry
Into the beauty of th' enamel'd sky.
All precious stones when laid together, are
Not so refulgent as one single star.
What glory in the Presence Chamber then
Shall Saints amaze, when they are from the den,
And cave of Earth advanc'd above the sky,
To reign in Heaven to eternity!
Fulgentius eying well the Senate House
Of Rome, which was exceeding glorious,
Did both its bulk and bravery contemne,
As nothing to the New Jerusalem.
That Cities pavement is of Gold most pure,
What are the Hangings then and Furniture?
How Orient are those Jewels which are set
Into the frame of that rare Cabinet?
Those rarities on Earth which oft invite
Our eyes, and ravish them with much delight,
Appear but vile and fordid in their eyes,
Who with a sight of heavens embroideries
Made happy are: a glorious place no doubt
It is, where God doth all his cost lay out:
It needs must be a stately Fabrick, where
Wisdom contrives, and Bounty doth not spare.
In heaven (as we read in sacred story)
There is a kingdom, crowns, thrones, weight of glory,
Now wonder 'tis to me the violent
Take heaven by force, 'tis so magnificent.
I marvel more that many Christians are
No more contentious in this Holy War.
Heavens Purity.
IN Purity this blessed soyle doth passe
Refined Gold, and most transparent Glasse.
Its Emblem'd by the saphire stone, which hath
A precious vertue in't (as Pliny saith)
Purity to preserve, none thither come
Stain'd with the births of sins too pregnant womb.
Sometimes again 'tis represented by
The sparkling Em'rald whose rare quality
Is poyson to expel, heaven is so pure
That sin and sinners it will not endure.
That air is from malignant vapours freed,
No Viper of corruption there doth breed.
The Serpent which to sin did man intice,
Was long since cast out of that Paradise.
There no assaults of sinful on-sets are,
When once a spotless soul, a virgin star
Hath in that Orbe caelestial its station,
It need not fear the rape of a temptation,
Upon that sacred stage sin acts no part,
The Eyes are there no Panders to the Heart.
No sinful tinctures there of inquination
Be speckle shall the chosen generation.
No Feaver there of Lust is to be found,
All Vice is banish'd from that holy ground.
Indeed on Earth of sin few stand in awe,
Men set up Wickednesse oft by a Law.
And wicked men devour (O cruel Elves!)
Their neighbors, far more righteous than themselves.
Here Just ones are maligned, 'cause they 're just
And won't be Bandogs to some great ones lust.
More Justice there in the infernal Den
Is to be found, than 'mong the sons of men.
Hell doth oppress none that are innocent,
But here 'gainst righteousness the world is bent.
Holiness is the White, at which the Divol
His fiery Darts doth principally level.
But Heaven is a place of Equity,
No wronged persons there for Justice cry;
There are (as sacred Scriptures do express)
The Sun, the Robe, the Crown of Righteousness.
Heavens Amplitude.
SPacious enough that Heavenly structure is,
To entertain the souls ordain'd to bliss.
It is a Garner wide enough to hold,
Those blessed Grains whose number can't be told.
How ample is the New Jerusalem?
Where every Saint's deck'd with a Diadem.
Though myriads of Saints inhabit there,
Yet every Saint doth move in his own sphere.
'Tis not a place so narrow or so strait,
But sublime spirits may there expatiate.
Heavens Brightness.
THat Royal Palace which excels in height,
Is called an inheritance in light;
The splendor of it doth the Sun's out vie,
It far surpasses its resplendency.
Were every star a sun, without all doubt,
Heavens lustre they could never shadow out.
Light is a glorious creature, what were all
The world, if Darkness should the same enthral?
Alas! What beauty is there in the sun,
When it is vayl'd, and hath a muffler on?
Light actuates the colours, and doth shew,
Each Herb and Flower in its most verdant hew.
'Tis Natures smile, the Universes gloss,
Who wants the light, doth need no greater cross,
Light beautifies the creatures with its rayes,
It is on bodies a bright paraphrase.
Whether i'th modesty of a morning blush
It self it doth discover, or doth rush
In with more spriteful beams, whither in a star
It twinckles, or doth in a Comet glare;
Whither in a Gem it frisketh in the night,
Or in a Glow-worm playes the hypocrite.
Whither in a Lamp it doth epitomize
It self, or in a spark it self comprize.
How e're 'tis pleased it self to manifest,
Or in what form soever it is drest,
Such a commanding lustre in its face
It alwayes carries, as it self doth grace:
Yet O how dark doth Light it self appear,
When to the fountain it of Light drawes near?
The place of rest that in the world to come,
Remains for saints, is a diaphanum.
It is not like the Element o're head
That's here and there with stars enammelled,
No, 'tis a Body wonderfully bright,
Being all o're embroidered with light.
The glory of the Sun is needless there,
Christ is the Sun that shineth in that sphere.
A Sun that no Eclipse can over-shrowd,
A Sun that can't be masked with a cloud.
A Sun which rising on the saints that reign,
With God in glory, never sets again:
Whenas the sacred scriptures would express,
The glorious majesty, and blessedness
Of God himself, unto the very height,
They make 't consist in this, He dwells in light.
Heavens Permanency.
HEaven is a place subject to no decay,
An Heritage that fadeth not away;
No wonder saints are with it so much taken,
It is a Kingdom that cannot be shaken.
The great and mighty Monarchies on earth,
Have had their dying times as well as birth;
Their ruins were as certain as their rise,
But as for the Celestial paradise,
Venices Nec fluctu, nec flatu movetur.Motto you may on it write,
No winds nor waves can stir't with al their might.
The tabernacle, wch was transient,
Did transitory comforts represent.
But Heavens joy and happiness (no doubt)
Were by the fixed temple shadow'd out:
The saints shall bath themselves in bliss for ever,
Nothing shall them and their Redeemer sever.
Their Lease of Heaven perpetual shall be,
Stamp'd with the broad seal of Eternitie.
Eternity's a Day that hath no Night;
A Spring that hath no Autumne, joy at height:
O happy man, who being freed from thrall,
Enjoy the vision beatifical!
HEAVENS GLORY FURTHER SHADOWED OUT BY ITS NAMES, TITLES, AND EPITHITES.
THe Titles, Names, and Epithites, that are
Ascrib'd to Heavenly joyes, do yet declare,
And further to our relish represent,
Their sweetness, even to astonishment.
A Kingdom.
HEaven is a Kingdom, and a Kingly throne
Is held the top, crown, and perfection
Of sublunary bliss, the highest aime
Of mans ambition, that which doth inflame
His aspiration most, a confluence
It is of Riches and magnificence,
Of glory, pompe, and royal majesty,
Of pleasure and delightful bravery;
Or what the heart of man can more desire,
To make his outward happiness entire:
What stirs and stratagems, what pulling down,
Of one another, to climbe to a crown?
What Machavillian depths, what strange adventures?
What stretching of mens brains upon the tenters?
What cunning Plots, what rowling of each stone,
To be installed in the regal throne?
Witness our York and Lancaster, nay all
Earths habitable parts both great and small,
Which have from time to time prov'd (as we find
In story) bloody Cock-pits in this kind.
An heavenly Kingdom.
AN Heavenly Kingdom 'tis to intimate,
That it in excellency, pompe, and state,
As far transcends all earthly Kingdoms, as
The Empyrean Heaven doth surpass
The Earth with all its bravery and store
Of choice delights, and infinitely more.
The Kingdom of God.
GOds Kingdom, 'tis a Kingdom of his own
Framing and beautifying; 'tis a throne
Erected by his power, who like himself
Doth all things make, not deek'd with worldly pelt,
But with ineffable transcendencies
Embellish'd, and such rare felicities,
As best beseem the Maker of all things,
The glorious residence of the King of Kings.
An Inheritance.
IT is no tenement at will, to be
Possest or left at th'Landlords libertie:
But an Inheritance to us convey'd,
And seal'd by th' highest price that e're was paid.
Which will as orient and as pretious be,
After as many thousand years as we
Can possibly conceive, as 'twas the first
Day that it poured out was, and disburst.
An incorruptible inheritance.
THe Ponderous weight of that felicity,
And blessedness which is possessed by
The saints, who there the royal scepter sway,
Shall ne're be subject to the least decay.
Much less shall their illustrious condition
Obnoxious be to any abolition.
But their unspeakable beatitude
All diminution wholly [...]hall exclude:
And alwayes be as fresh and full as at
The first it was, their glorified estate
Shall ne're decline, but without spot or stain
Through all eternity entire remain.
An Exceeding, and Eternal weight of Glory.
HEaven an exceeding and eternal weight
Of Glory stiled is, its pompe and state,
Crowns, kingdoms, jewels, and most orient
Pearls can to us but weakly represent,
And darkly shadow out; it is (saith one)
A phrase superlative, and such as none
Of all the Heathen in their Or atory
Could ever reach unto, because heavens glory
Is too transcendent, too sublime and high,
E're to be ken'd by Natures pur-blind eye.
THE SAINTS SHALL BE WITH CHRIST IN HEAVEN.
THe Doctor of the Gentiles grand desire
To be dissolved was, he did aspire
To the encircling armes of Christ, which he
Deemed the center of felicitie;
A Priviledge of the first magnitude,
A blessing that all blessings did include.
Surely we can no losers be by being
With Christ who is almighty and all-seeing,
While we 're engarrison'd in slime, too much
Of the wild olive still remains in such
As are indeed converted, but when death
Dams up the passage of our fleeting breath,
As young and tender Scions, then shall we
Into a better stock engrafted be:
We then shall be with Christ, whose company
Our hearts will ravish to eternity.
A perfect state more glorious is by far
Than an imperfect; here our graces are
Our richest jewels, but their lustre they
Don't in this life unto the full display:
They'r like the Moon, which when it shines most bright,
Hath a dark spot most obvious to our sight;
Our pretious Faith (a jewel in Gods eye)
O [...] blended is with incredulity,
And our humility with so much pride
Is stain'd, that it can hardly be descri'd;
Our graces flame (alas) is not so pure,
But that some smoak doth often it obscure;
Our Vertues here are in their infancy,
And can't arrive at full maturity,
Till on the top of Jacobs Ladder we
Are mounted, and do Christ in heaven see:
To be with Christ is held in sacred story
To be the highest link i'th chain of glory.
What is't the pious soul esteems most meet
For him to covet? is it not the sweet
Presence of Christ? For nought on earth he cares
But what the image of his Saviour bears.
He loves religious duties, but whence is't?
Because they manuductions are to Christ:
He prayes and praiseth prayers excellence,
Cause souls with Christ have private conference:
He hears the Word, and strives it to obey,
Because to Christ it ch [...]lketh out the way.
Christ on the spirits wings to us doth flie,
VVe plume'd with Faith to him again do hie.
If in an O [...]d'nance Christ be not, insteed
Of meat we on an empty dish do feed.
Christ's all a Christian can desire, and more.
The sev'ral graces which i'th saints of yore
A pleasing luster yielded though but dim,
Are all at once conspicuous in him.
VVho so by Fuith most sublimated is,
He neither hath a head-piece to devise,
Nor heart to cover all that's to be found
In Christ, but when we on the holy ground
Of heaven tread, the great Jehovah will
Enlarge our narrow Vessels, and them fill
Up to the very brim, as once with VVine
Christ did the water-pots by's power Divine.
The sight of Christ unto a saint, that is
Translated and enammelled with bliss,
A more delightful object will appear
Than e're his eyes beheld: VVhen he was here
On earth, the light of his Divinitie
In the dark-la [...]thorn did obscured lie
Of his humanity, yet even then
The saints in him did so much beauty ken,
Through Faiths prospective-glass, as did delight
Their hearts, and ravish their amazed sight.
But Oh! what glittering beams of matchless worth,
And peerless excellence shall sparkle forth
From Christ, when saints shall see him as he is,
Shining in glory in the sphear of bliss.
O what a blessed sight will't be to see,
Christ clad i'th' Robes of our humanity!
And in that humane nature placed higher
In dignity, than the melodious Quire
Of glorious Angels, who to heavens King,
Do everlasting Halelujahs sing.
Cherubs and Seraphims there are; But do
The saints believe that these make heaven? No;
I'th' ring of glory, Christ's the rarest Gem;
The richest Pearl i'th' heavenly Diadem:
Therefore, St. Paul desired not to be
In heaven, but with Christ, whose company
The heaven is of heav'ns—
Our being with our blessed Saviour, shall
Not only local be, but conjugal;
Our eyes shall so behold him, as that we
Shall be one with him to eternity:
What neerer is than Union? or what's sweeter?
It is the spring of joy, and makes the creature
Happy beyond conceit: by vertue we
Of that blest Union, shall partakers be
Of those transcendent beauties, wherewithal
Christ's humane nature is, and ever shall
Bespangled be; Christ with the glory which
His Father gave him, will his saints enrich:
They with his beams shall shine, he doth array
Them with his graces, whilst they'r in the way;
But when they to their journeys end are come,
He, them with Robes of Glory welcomes home.
How full of lustre, will the saints appear,
When they their Saviors richest jewels wear!
Not only one, they with their husband shall
Then be, but eke resemble him withal:
In other marriages Brides only do
Change their estate, but here complexion too:
Not that in glory, Christ conferreth ought
Of his own Essence, as Socinus taught.
Saints so much glory as compriz'd may be
Within the verge of their humanitie
Shall have; but though his image he impart,
Yet not his Essence. When the Sun doth dart
Its beams, and on a glass shines from its sphaere,
Some print, it of its beauty leaveth there;
And 'twixt the Sun-beam and the glass, it is
No easie matter to diseern; but this
Most certain is, the glass is not the ray,
The Sun its likeness only doth convey.
In Heaven, the Saints shall be all KINGS.
THere too too many are, who do aspire
After Terrestrial Scepters, whose desire
Is to be mounted on the throne, as though
The place where saints must reign, were here below.
We surely then, Gods Church on Earth must grant
To be triumphant, and not militant.
But see the honour of the saints; O they
Shall all be Kings at their ascension day:
VVe, of their royal robe, and throne of Glory,
Read in the Book of Books the sacred story.
The saints, that in this world a crown do wear
Of thorns, shall have a crown of glory there:
Yea, such a crown as hath no cares at all
VVoven into't; the crown of Kings oft gall
Their royal heads, they by experience find
Them both with care and sorrow to be lin'd.
Cyrus, the Persian King, was wont to say,
Did men but know the cares, which he each day
Under a crown, imperial, did sustain;
To take it up no doubt they would disdain.
But lo the crowns of saints, in glory shal
No mixture know, or misery at all:
They neither are with care of keeping blent,
Or fear of losing, but yield all content.
O let us then with patience undergo
Our momentary troubles here below:
Let not our light afflictions press us down,
VVho bear the cross, shall also were the crown.
In Heaven the Saints shall be filled with JOY.
THe joy of Saints is by their Union bred
VVith Christ; being fully joyn'd to their Head,
Their joyes shall then be perfect, and for ay
God from their eyes shall wipe all tears away
With that soft spung, which Christ their trusty friend
Provided hath before hand for that end.
The spouse on Earth in sable doth appear,
Because she absent is from her most dear
And loving husband; but in heaven she
Of all her mourning weeds shall stripped be:
Her bloody Robes Christ then will take away,
And all in white will her forthwith array.
Hell's call'd a place of weeping, they that here,
For all their sins would never shed a tear,
Shall weep enough, when they tormented ly
I' th' scorching flames of endless misery.
But when the saints have gain'd the heav'nly crown,
Christ from the willows will their harps take down.
He, for his trumpeters and heraulds there
VVill call, who at his beck do all appear.
The glorious Angels, that caelestial Quire,
VVith one consent, do mutually conspire,
To warble forth the anthemes of divine
Praise, and with them the saints shall all combine,
And shall with wondrous skill and heavenly art
In that blest consort, sweetly sing their part.
If when we are i'th'arms of Christ, it were
Possible for a saint to shed a tear,
It would, without all paradventure, be
A tear of joy. Christ to eternitie
VVith beams of love, upon his spouse will shine,
And all her water there turn into wine.
One smile from Christ, will make her quite forget
Her former grievances, and strait-way set
Her on the pinacle of joy, where she
From all afflictions ever shall be free.
Sorrow's a cloud, that's gather'd in the heart,
Upon the apprehension of some smart:
And weeping, which the off-spring is of pain,
A cloud of grief is dropping into rain.
But Christ the sun of Righteousness, shall shine
So brightly in the heavenly Palaestine,
That there no interposing clouds shall be;
No sorrow mix'd with our felicitie.
In heaven there's no Devil to entice,
Nothing to breed, or to engender vice.
Saints in the bosome there of peace shall rest,
No enemy there shall be to molest.
Though Isr'el had subdued Canaan, yet
Of all the Canaanites, they could not get
The mastery, or wholly them expel;
But they, amongst them in that Land would dwell.
But when we with the Father are of Lights,
VVe shall no more be vex'd with Canaanites.
God with a flaming sword, world without end,
The heavenly paradise shall still defend.
The Saints in Heaven shall have perfect Rest.
A Pilgrime [...], i'th' vale of miserie,
May to [...] silver well resembled be,
Which hath a principle of motion in it,
But not of Rest: he almost every minute
Is like the Ball upon the Racket, or
The ship upon the waves that swell and rore.
So long as sin our nature doth deface,
And a co-habitant remains with grace,
While Saints do feed on such unwholsome diet,
They subject are to motion and disquiet.
There is no rest (saith holy David) in
My bones at all, by reason of my sin:
Here saints are in a constant fluctuation,
And of their sorrows have no relaxation:
They'r like the tyde that flows sometime, and than
After a while doth ebb as fast again.
No rest on earth is to be had, 'cause we,
While here below, out of our center be.
The Dove no rest after a tedious flight
Could find, till on the Ark she did alight.
But when the saints in heaven do arive,
An everlasting rest shall them revive.
The winds of persecution often blow
Upon this spiritual corn, whilst it doth grow
Here in the field, and each one passing by
Will still be plucking most inhumanely
These sacred ears of corn; but when this crop
Is in the heavenly Grainery laid up,
It from the injury of wind and weather
Shall then preserved be for altogether:
It with impetuous storms no more opprest
Shall be at all, but ever be at rest.
Not that in heaven there's no principle
Of motion, spirits neither can nor will
Be idle there, but such a motion 'tis
As without lassitude and labour is.
No weariness the saints shall there infest,
Their work's their case, their motion is their rest:
They labour here for rest, but there they shall
Rest from their labours, and be freed from thrall.
The Saints in Heaven shall have full Security.
'TIs possible a saint some minutes may
Of rest have here, but they soon pass away:
Security's a flower that doth not grow,
In Natures Garden, whilst we're here below,
Sudden eclipses in our hemisphear
To over-cloud our comforts oft appear.
We here in danger are of losing what
Our heav'n-blest industry hath fairly got.
He that upon the pinnacle is plac't
Of honour, doubts his honour will not last:
He that abounds in worldly wealth still fears
A devastation by the plunderers:
Nay a Believer, though his riches be
Most permanent and durable, yet he
Still pendulous and full of scruples is
'Bout his condition, lest of heaven he miss:
Sometimes he questions, and would gladly know,
Whether in the state of grace he be or no?
When Satan hath o're-reach'd him in some plot,
Do I believe (saith he) or do I not?
Something I have that shines, but is not it
A chain of pearl that's only counterfeit?
My Faith's presumption and my love what is't
But love of self, and no true love to Christ.
Yea, when the holy Spirit hath me taught
And in my soul some sound perswasion wrought
I soon am shaken like a ship that lies
At anchor, when the swaggering billows rise.
Thus these distracting fears oft make him start,
And sad impressions leave upon his heart
Yea, when a christian knows himself to be
I'the state of Grace, yet then he fears lest he
Into some scandalous offence should fall,
And so Gods spirit grieve, and deeply gall
His own awakened conscience, and the heart
Of Gods dear children pierce through with this dart,
Lest he thereby should sinners harden, and
Make Babes in Grace affrighted at him stand;
Yea, which is worst of all, lest God his spark
Extinguish should, and leave him in the dark:
These fears out of a gracious heart are still
Arising like black vapours, and do fill
The souls of saints with sorrow, but when they
Released are out of their house of clay,
And in th' embraces of their Saviour lye,
Their hearts shall then have full security;
When they with Christ in glory shall appear,
They shall be rid of dangers and of fear.
A Christian in this life may likened be
Unto a man upon the summitie.
Of some [...]all Maste, sometime the pirates (I
Mean perecutors) at his ship let fly;
And though the passenger can't be annoy'd,
To wit, the soul, yet oft the ship's destroy'd.
Sometimes the winds of strong temptation blow,
Those northern winds, and the poor christian now
Gods favour questions much, and gladly would
Know if his name were in Gods Book enrould.
And though in Christ having an interest,
There is no danger, yet his heart can't rest.
But when he is with Christ off from the mast,
And planted on that rock, all peril's past:
Then you shall hear him say, Now I am sure
I've shot the Gulf, my soul is now secure:
I'm past from death to life, no Sirens charms
Henceforth can pluck me from my Saviors arms.
In Heaven there shall be a Vindication of Names.
THough Saints a conscience here void of offence
Towards God & man have, yet their innocence
By poysoned arrows of malitious words
Oft wounded is, which sharper are than swords.
The Devil that old serpent sticks not to
Spit out his venome at the godly through
The mouths of wicked men, if he can't smite
Their consciences with his keen darts, and fright
Their souls into dispair, he then will put
A dead flie in their names, which oft doth cut
Them to the very heart, the saints we see
Unto the world oft times decipher'd be
In a sad manner; who can e're express
How strangely saints look in the Devils dress?
Job to the world was represented by
His Friends as one stain'd with hypocrisie:
Saint Paul was stiled a seditious man,
When he to publish heavenly truths began.
The marks of Christ he in his body did
Not only bear, but in his name beside.
Yea, Christ himself, who blessed is for ever
Was called of the people a deceiver:
And still the Devils instruments assay
The saints in ugly colours to pourtray.
A hainous sin, no doubt, 'tis to defame
A christian by bespattering his good name,
It is no less than murther, rather he
Would lose his life, than's credit soyl'd should be.
Who so his neighbor wounds in's reputation
For it can never make him reparation.
Flaws in mens credit are like blots in white
Paper, which one can hardly fetch out quite.
Or if the wound it self should cured be,
Some skar to their perpetual obloquie
Would still remain; in fine, they do defame
The God of saints, who blast the saints good name.
Believers have Gods picture on their hearts,
And he that casteth his malitious darts
Against it, or prophanely spits upon't,
Offers to God himself no small affront:
Well, either God the innocence will clear
Of his Elect, while they do sojourn here.
when graceless-men them with their tongus do smite
Their righteousness hee'l bring forth as the light,
Or else without all peradventure at
The day of Doom their names he'l vindicate,
Though troublers now of Israel stiled they be,
The day shall come when their integritie
By him shall be proclaim'd, who only knows
The hearts of men, and can their thoughts disclose.
The dust that here upon their reputation
Was thrown by men of evil conversation
Shall then be wiped off, and they no more
Shall loaded be with scandals as before.
The credits then of those shall be redeem'd,
Of whom the world so basely here esteem'd.
For names Jehovah (who is great and good)
Shall inquisition make as well as blood;
And then the saints shall such a luster gain,
As no polluted breath can ever stain.
Then God himself the stone of obloquie
Which here below on their good names did lye,
Estsoons shall roul away and they out from
Among the pots immediately shal come,
Where they were black'd and sulled, and shal be
No more traduced to eternity.
They then must needs appear without a blur,
When God himself is their compurgator.
The Graces of the Saints shall be perfect in heaven.
HEre Grace to silver may resembled be,
Which hath some dross blent with its purity;
But when 'tis coined in the heavenly mint,
No mixture of corruption shall be in't.
When we're advanc'd to the caelestial throne,
Grace shall be flowr'd into perfection:
It then most certainly refin'd shall be
Into the highest power and purity.
This contemplation should unto a saint
Be very sweet, our love hath here, I grant,
Its winter in our breasts, but it shall be
As fire ad octo in eternitie.
No smoak of imperfection shall obscure
That radiant flame, or render it impure.
Our graces in such orient colours there
As never can be soyled shall appear.
There grace shall want no measure no degree,
But to eternity shall perfect be.
It may be here compared to a star
Imprison'd in a cloud, but when we are
Once fixed in the firmament one high,
It like the sun in a most glorious skye
Shall then appear, and there a regal crown
Of rare and matchless beauty shall put on.
In fine, 'tis manifest in sacred story,
That grace shall then be swallow'd up in glory.
THE BEAUTY AND BLESSEDNESS OF Glorified Bodies.
WHile we're on Earth, our earthly tabernacle
Is of infirmities the receptacle,
Physicians find with all their art and skill
Enough to do to piece't up for a while.
Our house of clay like to a picture is,
That's out of frame, or like an edifice
That wants repair; how soon each sudden blast
Of sickness doth its strength and beauty wast?
How often is the heaven-born spirit pent
Up in a most deformed tenement?
To rotten wood the body may indeed
Be likened, where like worms diseases breed:
But yet this piece of clay bespangled shall
With glory be above in heavens VVhitehall.
No Feaver there or Plurisie shall be,
No wound, distemper, or deformity
But all the issues of infirmity,
That here beset the holiest saints shall dry
Up in illustrious splendour, there for aye
With greater beauty God shall them array
Then that of Phoebus, when it shines most bright,
And blaz'ned is in its meridian light:
There Leah shan't complain of her blear eyes,
Nor ag'd Barzilla of infirmities.
Whither the bodies glory doth rebound
From the souls blessedness and so redound
By a continued constant influence
Upon the body, with much diligence
I shall not here enquire, or whether by
Jchovahs powerful hand originally
In the reformed body 'tis implanted,
This in the general is on all sides granted,
That in the morning of the resurrection
It shall be raised up in great perfection:
And like the glorious Body of our dear
Saviour in heavenly splendor shall appear:
Which is a happiness most excellent,
Superlative and supereminent.
Glorified BODYES immortal.
DEath is the bitter and accursed fruit
Of sin, a worm still feeding at the root
Of our decaying Gourds, but when we die,
Our mortal puts on immort alitie.
As 'twas with Adam in his innocence,
Had not sin stript him of his excellence,
Such harmony between each quality
There of his Body was, that probably
Of life he never should have been bereaven,
But have translated been to th'highest heaven,
Indeed by Bellarmine it is averr'd,
That Adam dy'd had, though he ne're had err'd.
But there's no ground for this assertion in
The sacred scripture to be found, there sin
Is made the formal cause of death, however,
Death our bodies glorified shall never
Dominion have, but they by heavens decree
Are made as long liv'd as eternity.
That God, who Manna made some ages past
Hundreds of years'th' golden pot to last,
Shall so consolidate the body by
His soveraign power, that it shall never die,
But with impossibility of ever
Perishing shall in blisful state persevere.
Heavenly Bodies impassible
SOul grinding sores Jobs Body soft and tender
Invaded, and therein did worms engender:
And every worm was actuated by
A Devil to augment his misery,
(As Origen asserts) converted Paul,
Who was sometime before his funeral
Bath'd in the chrystal streams of heavenly bliss,
Did in his body bear the marks of his
Dear Lord and Saviour: but our bodies when
They are possessed of the magazen
Of blessedness, impassible shal be
From agonizing torments wholly free,
That such a passion bodies glorifi'd
Have, as delightful is, can't be deny'd,
Since they of joy are capable, but this
Is certain, when they in the lap of bliss
Once dandled are, to violence they shal
Ne're be expos'd, or misery at all.
Heavenly Bodies Agile.
THe bodies of the saints terestrial
Are heavy in their motion, but they shal
Be with incredible agility
Endow'd, when they above the blew-flowr'd sky
Translated are into the throne of bliss,
Which for triumphant saints prepared is.
A lump of Lead which to the bottom stil
Sinks, being wyre-drawn by the workmans skil
Into the form and fashion of a Boat,
(Saith Austen) wil upon the waters float:
And shal not God give that ability
Unto the body of a saint, when by
His sovereign power 'tis rais'd up from the dead,
Which the artificer gives to the Lead:
The soul is in its operations by
The bodies lumpish ponderosity
Obstructed here, when e're it doth assay
Unto the heavenly throne to make its way,
Or Would aspire to the caelestial crown,
That like a Leaden-plummet puls at down.
But when the grave from out its pregnant womb
Shal cast its treasure, at the day of doom,
When saints out of their beds of earth shal rise,
And be refin'd, it shal be otherwise:
Elementary gravity shal no
Impeding obstacle ere be unto
Their bodies then, but swift and facile they
Shal in their motion be, and that for ay.
Heavenly BODYES Amiable
THe Body when to Heaven it takes its flight
Shal be like iron filed and made bright,
It shal coruscant be, and with divine
Luster in the celestial Orbe shal shine.
Like to the sun in splendor it shal be,
Nay seven times brighter in its claritie:
The Body of a saint impure before
And drossy, like the Gold when in the ore,
Shal glister, when reform'd and glorifi'd,
Like burnisht Gold i'th' furnace often try'd.
It so transparent then and clear no doubt
Shal be, as that the soul shal sally out
At every part, and through the bodies as
The VVine shal sparkle through a Venice-glass.
Such glorious brightness and resplendency
The body steeped in felicity
Innoble shal, that should we it compare
VVith Sols most radiant beams that gild the air,
VVe to th'expression of the excellence
Of its illustrious pre-eminence
Shal nothing say at all —.
The beauty and blessedness of Glorified Souls.
IT would an endless labour be no doubt,
If I should undertake to shadow out
The several glories of each faculty
Of the refined soul, (undoubtedly)
All humane rhetorick and angelical
Too narrow is e're to express them al
Unto the life, my purpose only is
A taste to give you of its perfect bliss:
Yet from those clusters which I here present,
A saint may reap much sweetness and content.
The Saints Knowledge perfected in Heaven.
THe intellectual part enlarg'd shal be
With knowledge ith' superlative degree,
It all things there cognoscible shal know,
That from its eye were vailed here below:
Whatever knowledge comes within the sphear
Of finite understandings it shal there
Perfectly comprehend, no mystery
Shal scape the ken of its enlightened eye.
Knowledge of nature, arts, and things created
Delightful is, and highly estimated.
Some Heathens were with Philosophical
Wisdom, and beams of intellectual
Light so enamour'd, that they did contemne
The world as nothing to that peerless Gem.
Aeneas Silvius long ago did say
Unto a Doctor once of Austria,
That if the face of humane Learning could
Be seen by mortal eyes, it (doubtless) would
Appear more beautiful and brighter far,
Than doth the morning or the evening star.
In other pleasures a satiety
There is, when they are used, by and by
Their verdure doth depart, which argues that
It is the Novelty doth recreate,
And not the Quality, and that they be
Pleasures in thought, not in realitie.
Ambitious Princes are not alwayes jolly,
But are sometimes o're-whelm'd with melancholy,
And men o're-charged with voluptuousness
Oft sheath their bodies in a Friars dress.
But there's of Knowledge no satiety,
The more we drink of this the more we dry:
Here satisfaction and appetite
Do meet, with interchangeable delight,
Which plainly proves that it is really
Good, without accident of fallacy.
Now this inferiour knowledge to the height
Shal there be rais'd by him who dwels in light,
And so compleated be as that the least
And lowest saint of heaven once possest
The causes of all natural things far more
Exactly comprehend shal than before,
And have a clearer sight of the conclusions
Of art, through th' opticks of divine infusions,
Then ere could be attained by the eye
Of Nature, Reason, or Philosophy.
In every kind of humane learning there
Some strange aenigma's dayly do appear,
Which exercised have from time to time
The bravest wits, but (ah) so dark, so dimme
By nature, is each intellectual eye,
That they those Gordian knots could ne're unty;
Whether the rowling Orbes by angels are
Mov'd, or internal forms, who can declare?
Whether in man three souls distinct there be,
Or one in substance only vertually
Containing th'other two, too intricate
A question is for humane wits to state.
The souls fair wings do flag here and decay,
Some feathers sick are, and oft drop away.
Here one Philosopher of his head oft makes
Doleful complaints, his understanding akes,
His reason's dimm'd, a second sadly cryes,
A third's soul trembles with uncertainties:
One grasps a cloud of errors, and another
Spends in untying some hard knot or other
Much of his time, one's pleas'd to recreate
Himself i'th' shadow of his own conceit,
Another al his netves so long doth bend
Til they oft snap asunder in the end:
You Socrates may in the twilight see
Sadly lamenting the obscuritie
Of his benighted state, and telling you,
His Lamp can nought but his own darkness shew.
You may discover Plato sitting by
The banks of Lethe in an agony:
And through the limbecks of his moistened eyes
Distilling pearly drops in mournful wise,
Because he can't by al his industry
His former Notions cal to memory.
Look on the Naturalists head and you shal see
It non-plust with an occult quality.
But when the soul ascendeth up on high,
All misty clouds shal be dispelled by
The clear sun of a knowledge more refin'd,
And chas'd out of the region of the mind.
So that it then exactly shal descry
The causes, natures, rise and progeny,
Together with the ends of al things that
Jehovahs powerful word did e're create.
It clearly then each Gospel mystery
Which here surpast al humane scrutiny
Shal see, and most exactly comprehend
The darkest passages that e're were pen'd,
Whether Jobes wife her plous husband bid
Bless or Curse God, and whether Jephta did
His Daughter sacrifice to God on high,
Or consecrate her to virginity.
Whether Naaman a real convert were,
Or one in semblance only did appear.
That scripture then each one that runs shal read,
Why then are they baptized for the dead?
When saints the heavenly paradise inherit,
They shal be hold with ravishment of spirit
Those sacred mysteries, which here below
Some boldly dive into, but cannot know;
They then shal see and shal rejoyce to see
How three make one, and one again makes three:
They then shal apprehend with admiration
The miracles of Christ his incarnation,
They then the dark and secret mystery
Of providence exactly shal descry.
While we in tenements of clay do dwel,
What God is doing of we cannot tel:
He many times in short-hand writeth, and
His characters we cannot understand:
We seeing here but darkly through a glass,
The footsteps of his providence can't trace:
But when we'e vested in the costly dress
And choice attire of heavens happiness
A reason of divine transactions we
Shal then without al peradventure see
In every providence we then (no doubt)
A wonder or a mercy shal spy out.
A Limner at the first albeit indu'd
With skil enough, yet maketh but a rude
Draught in the picture, but when every part
And lineament is limm'd out by his art,
And in their colours laid, it by and by
Appears most amiable to the eye.
We who in robes of flesh are cloathed here,
Do only see a rude draught, as it were
Some pieces of mysterious providence
Obscurely shadowed out, but when from hence
We at the haven of felicity
Arrived are, and clearly do descry
The pourtraiture of providence drawn ous
In al its lively colours, it (no doubt)
Will be a blessed and a glorious sight,
Feeding the soul with infinite delight.
In fine, when saints upon the shoar do land
Of blessedness, they then shal understand
The mystery of hearts, they then shal see
To their content an heart anatomy:
For every work with every secret thing
Jehovah then shal into judgement bring.
They then the cabinet designes shal ken,
And privy counsels of the hearts of men.
The heart is deep, we may it wel compare
Unto a river that hath very fair
Streams gliding on the top, but when this brook
Comes to be drain'd, who so doth in it look,
Much vermine at the bottom shal espy,
That lay before concealed from the eye:
Thus with the heart of man it is, some fair
Streams running on the top there oft-times are,
A civil life, a specious pretence,
Of zeal, of purity, and innocence.
But when the tryer of the reins shal come
To drain this river at the day of doom,
When God shal make a ful discovery
Of hearts, the crawling vermine by and by
Of avarice, and of ambition shal
Appear, and clearly be discern'd of al:
All secret things shal then be brought to light,
'Twere worth the dying to behold that sight.
The Saints Love perfected in Heaven.
LOve is the jewel, the rich ornament,
with which Christs Bride is deckt, more excellent
'Tis in a sense than Faith, for love doth never
Cease, but abides for aye, as soon as ever
The saints to heaven come, Faiths orient Gem
They straight put off, but not loves Diadem.
Loves sparkling beams with their resplendency
Shal gild the soul to al eternity.
VVhile here below we wallow in the mire,
Our love to God is rather a desire.
But when upon the spicy Mountain we
Of bliss are lodg'd, and face to face do see;
VVhen Hallelujahs we shal with the quire
Of angels sing, the smoak then of desire
Into a [...]ame of Love blown up shal be,
VVe then shal Love God in the highest degree.
Our love is luke-warme here, and sometimes frozen,
It much afflicts the spirits of the chosen,
That in the grace of Love they are so poor,
And that they can their Maker love no more.
But there's a time approaching shortly whan
Their Love shal blaze and burn as hot as't can.
The damned in a flame of fire shal be,
The saints of Love to perpetuitie.
Here flattering objects steal our Love away
From God, but there it never shal decay.
You in the morning may behold the grass
With drops of dew al covered over, as
So many pearls but when the sun draws near
With scorching beams, they straightway disappear.
Perchance wh [...]n our affections once are stirr'd
Up by the quickning vertue of the VVord,
Or when we see the pretious bloud of Christ
Trickling as't were down in the Eucharist;
Our hearts then melt with love, some love-drops fal
Down from the Limbecks of our eyes, but al
Again doth vanish in a little space,
And our first-love declines and spends apace
While here on Earth we Mortals have our station,
This matter is of great humiliation.
But when our God in glory we shal see,
Our Love shal fix'd as wel as fervent be:
It ne're shal taken off be any more
From him whom Saints and Angels al adore.
Such beauty in Jehovah then shal shine,
That alwayes as a Load-stone most divine,
He sweetly shal attract each heart and eye,
Oh blessed fight! Oh rare felicity!
Between the saints a mutual accord
There shal be too, there Enmity's abhor'd;
The Pulse of their affection towards each other
Shal strongly beat; here brother strives with brother;
But in the Paradise above the plant
Of Love arrives at perfect growth: I grant
Our natures here are sometime so defac'd,
That grace cannot so great a lustre cast.
In aiming at, that mark we here shoot wide,
Bad men unite, when good-men oft divide.
'Mong saints contentions never were more hot,
Nor Love more cold, saints against saints do plot;
Many there are, who Members are of Christ,
Whose musick al in discords doth consist,
Whose Harp the Cross is, who the truth pretend
To Love, but won't an ear to concord lend.
Divisions are the powder-plot, whereby
Satan blows up the Churches unity.
Sin brought forth separation, and this Daughter
Her cursed Mother too much taking after,
The Grand-child of Division to our smart
Hath born, great thoughts & searchings there of heart
Are for these things, it is no marvel I
Conceive at al to hear the Harlot cry,
Pray let the Child divided be: But oh
To hear the Mother of the Child say so,
That's very sad: No wonder 'tis to see
Pope, Jesuite, and Sectary agree
To rend the bowels of their tender Mother,
But for one saint to persecute another,
That's very strange, 'tis such a sight as doth
Provoke to pity and amazement both.
For VVolves to worry Lambs 'tis usual,
For Lambs each other, that's unnatural.
It is an ordinary thing, you know,
Among the thorns to see Christs Lilly grow,
But for this Lilly to become a thorn,
And tear it self, to see't who doth not mourn?
Well this a foil wil be the more to set
Off Heaven, there our Love shal ever get
And kept the upper hand of Enmity,
Of judgement there no difference shal be:
I'th journies end saints shal agree, no doubt
Though by the way they many times fal our.
When once Christs harp in th'ears of saints hath sounded,
The evil spirit shal be quite confounded:
VVhen to the highest peg of bliss, our strings
Shal once be wounded up by the King of Kings,
No discord in our Musick then shal be,
In heaven there's a perfect harmony:
But stay my Muse, forbear to prosecute
This lofty theame, lest thou be strucken mure
By th' ne're enough admired depth and height
Of heavens bliss transcending al conceit.
None to the life can limne out heavens glory,
Although they study nought but Oratory.
Saint Austin by a Bishop of his time
Being requested earnestly to climb
Up in his thoughts to the Emperial Court
Above, and of its joyes, to make report,
VVhile he addrest himself unto the task,
Attempting heavens beauty to unmask,
VVhil'st on the wing he soar'd of contemplation,
And in the depth was of his meditation,
A voice articulate, distinct and clear
Arrived at the portal of his ear,
Saying, what mean'st thou (Austin?) dost thou ever
Hope to effect what thou dost now endeavour?
Dost thou th' expanded Ocean in thy hand
E're think to measure, or to graspe the Land
VVithin thy shallow fist? Leave altogether
The search of heaven till thou commest thither.
If that bright star was by an heavenly voice
Silenc'd, and from the handling of so choice
A theame prohibited, How then may I
Into those sacred secrets dare to pry?
Let it in brief suffice to know that al
The Rhetorick of the Quire angelical
Is not enough to reach the top and height
Of heavens glory, pleasure, and delight,
Nor al the bitter sighs and hellish groans
Of damned spirits and tormented ones,
Who labour under an eternal cross,
Sufficient to bewaile so great a loss.
Practical Conclusions From the former DISCOURSE.
THey that expect a glorious translation,
Must lead on Earth a gracious conversation,
Of doing wel it never must repent them,
A common course of life must not content them,
Their bosome-sins they must est-soon discard,
Which do their motion heaven-ward retard,
How pure had they need be who fix their eye
Upon a place free from impurity?
In righteousness they others must excel,
Who hope for heaven where righteousness doth dwel.
In Glories famous Universitie
They Graduates can never look to be,
Who are not in the school of grace with store
Of Piety well principled before.
Holiness is heavens happiness, a sign,
Heaven was not built to be a sty for swine.
No sinful souls may there themselves embark,
As unclean creatures once in Noahs ark.
The wine of angels never was nor shal
Be pressed out to fill old casks withal.
Garlands of Glory they shal never wear,
In whom the flow'rs of Grace don't first appear.
The Second Practical Conclusion.
O Let the thoughts of heavens endless joy
Bear up thy heart when sorrows would annoy;
Under temptations let thy soul be glad,
An interest in heaven and be sad:
Although the Lead of trouble, down-ward move,
Yet let the Cork of Faith still swim above.
This worlds afflictions, which are transitory,
Hold no comparison with the weight of glory.
When melancholy did the scepter sway
In Caesar's heart, he then was wont to say,
Remember thou art Caesar; and thereby,
Dethroned that usurping Enemy.
When outward crosses on thy spirit lye,
Make a persume of a perplexity,
By musing often on thine interest
In God, in Christ, and in that place of rest.
Where swallow'd up all worldly sorrows shal
Where in the vision beatifical.
St. Basil doth of certain Martyrs write
Exposed naked in a winters night
To the inclemency of wind and weather
Being the next day to be burnt together:
That in this plight they were no whit dismaid,
But comfortably to each other said,
Sharp is the cold, but sweet is Paradise,
This torment's nothing to that pearl of price.
The Way is thorny, and our feet may gall,
Our journies end wil make amends for al.
Let us a while endure the cold, and than
The Patriarchs bosome warm us shal again.
Let our feet burn, that we may when we dye
Dance with the Angels to eternity.
And so much joy there is in store for me,
Said blessed Philpot, that although I be
Up in a place of doleful darkness pent,
Yet wretched sinner I cannot lament,
But night and day I am as full of glee,
As if from crosses I were wholly free.
Yea, ne're was I in al my life before
So cheer'd as now I'm landing at the shore:
The contemplation of eternity
Pulls out the sting of worldly misery.
It turns the hissing serpent of temptation
Into a blossoming rod of consolation,
It makes the oyl of gladness swim and lye
Above the water of adversity,
It out of ev'ry cross doth take the core,
It sucks the poyson out of every sore.
It draws the anguish out of every groan,
And cutteth each calamity of the stone.
They cannot chuse but lead a joyful life,
In whom the thoughts of heaven are most rise.
That chrystal fountain to perplexed hearts
Sweet draughts of consolation oft imparts.
The Third Practical Conclusion.
O Let there be within thy soul a dearth
Of worldly thoughts, lest doting on the earth
Thou forfeit those refined sweets, which lie
Safe in the bosome of eternitie.
Cold comfort is in creatures to be found,
Contentment grows not in such barren ground.
Heaven is the spring from whence a lone doth flow
Sweet satisfaction to the faints below.
Where others set their hearts, there set thy feet,
Such counsel for a christian is most meet.
Spend not thy coin for that which is not bread,
But with disdain on earths enjoyments tread.
Fasten thine eyes upon that glorious state,
For which the saints with expectation waite.
Part not with that invaluable treasure,
For a few drops of moment any pleasure.
O hazard not thy self to endless woes,
For things that are as fading as the Rose.
What fruit hath Dives of his rich attire,
Or dainty fare in the infernal fire?
Of her dissolved Gems what pleasing tast
Hath Cleoparra now her life is past?
What sweetness now finds Heliogabalus
In the Elixars of his various
And costly Cates? VVhat pleasures now arise
From his unheard of sensualities?
O toy not then with beggarly delights!
Divert thine eye from earths inchanting sights;
Relish no earthly joyes, nor highly prise
The gilded pompe of worldly phantasies:
What cares and fears gripe those who thus excel?
Rich discontent is but a glorious hell.
Though thou to so journ here on earth art driven
Yet let thy Faith be breathing still in heaven.
O fix thine eye upon thy future station,
Let that be floating on thy meditation.
The matchless glory which thy present state
Succeedeth, time shal never antiquate:
Let all thy studies to that center tend,
The blessedness of heaven knows no end;
Be sure to make eternity the sphere
Of all thy thoughts even while thou livest here,
And let thy contemplation often be
Prying upon thy future dignity;
Be ever thinking thus, Oh when shall I
Take up my lodging in eternity!
Still Rally up thy thoughts, and Muster them
To prosecute the heavenly Diadem:
And learn with studiousness to methodise
The grand affairs in which thy safety lies.
O let thy soul unto eternity
As Eagles to the carcass swiftly flye,
And there be alwayes hovering up and down,
Till thou a fight gain of the eternal crown.
While others fill their thoughts with dirt, and go
After the muddy comforts here below,
O do not thou disgrace and vilifie
Thy soul that of-set of divinity;
With such vain contemplations don't affect
I'th' sumptuous casket of thine intellect
To lay up pebbles; 'tis a very gross
Sin for a saint to study dung and dross,
To putrifie his thonghts with objects which
Defiling are, and oft the heart bewitch.
Our lives like Candles in the wind are here,
To which each blast proves an extinguisher.
Or like to Glasses, that are broken by
A gentle knock, and into shivers flye.
There's no distemper but may in the wombe
Of Earth our dying carcases intombe.
Since then we are so brittle and so frail
Let us not cease to peep within the vail,
Let's fix our thoughts upon eternal bliss,
Which our estate behind the curtain is:
Our vessels to that Haven let us steere
And anchor al our meditations there.
The thoughts of Heaven put a mask before
The beauties which al carnal hearts adore.
Of sensual appetites they dul the edge
And cast a rust upon the golden wedge.
Such contemplations do anatomise
The flattering world in its varieties.
And of its cheat each vein and artery
Most clearly and distinctly do descry.
Eternal glory ruminated on
Will stain the beauty of the regal throne.
'Twil raise the heart and the affections carry
Far above al contentments sublunary.
This opes the eyes and make a saint espy
Much paint, imposture, and fugacity
In the most rich and flourishing estate
That comes within the worldly mans conceit.
VVhen once a saint through Faiths prospective glass
Peeps into heaven and descries the mass
Of never fading wealth laid up in store
For such as God in purity adore,
The cream of creature comforts by and by
Grows stale and curdles into vanity.
The Dagon streight of worldly bliss doth fall,
Before the thoughts of joy caelestial.
As pretty labouring Bees, although they live
I'th' midst of wax and honey in their Hive,
Yet are their nimble wings not hindred by
That viscous matter, that they cannot fly
Abroad, or swiftly pass from flower to flower,
To gather thyme to carry to their bower.
So thou that dost in the abundance dwell
Of worldly Delicates as in a cell
Of sweetness, shouldst beware, lest earthly things
To thine affections cleave, which are the wings
Of thine immortal soul, that may retard
Thy daily flight and motion heaven-ward:
That may abate thy thoughts activity
In their oft musing on the mystery
Of heavens bliss, which chiefly and above
All things a saint delight in should and love.
The Loadstone doth its vertue lose and can't
Iron attract plac'd neer the Adamant;
And shall the world thy heart draw and entice,
For all the neerness of the pearl of price?
Hagar, no doubt, would have contented been
With her exhausted Bottle, had she seen
The Well that was beside her; so should saints
With little of the world, since God acquaints
Them with a spring of living water nigh,
Which shall refresh them to eternity.
The Fourth Practical Conclusion.
THough heaven be an edifice so wide,
That myriads of souls may there reside
Yet thither all shall not advanced be;
To many Christ will say, Depart from me,
I never knew you, never did approve
Of your Devotion, or pretended love;
Who Vassals are to sin, cannot expect
A share in blessedness with Gods Elect.
The Cherubims with flaming swords do stand,
To stop their passage to the Holy Land.
The Chaff may with the Wheat together lie
Here in the floor, not in the Granatie;
No sons of Belial e're refreshed shall
Be with the dews of joyes caelestial.
Their heads with glory never shall be crown'd,
Whose hearts were never consecrated ground.
Such in the landskip of a single glance
Shall ne're behold the saints inheritance.
Or if they do, 'tis to accumulate
The infelicity of their desp'rate state.
Although the serpent into Paradise
Did winde it self the VVoman to entise:
Yet no defiled soul by al its skill
Shal e're ascend or scale Gods holy hill.
Great Pompeys theatre was stiled by
Turtullian of al filthiness the sty:
But Heaven's Nonesuch, there is not the least
Tincture of sin to stain that place of rest.
There no temptation shal the saints assaile,
No sinful lust shal lodge within the vaile.
Heaven is the sacred and imperial court
Of Gods immediate presence; where (in short)
His purer eyes shal ne're offended be
VVith the least rising of deformity.
Marks of our Interest in Heaven.
THey that shal wear the Royal Diadem
Of glory in the New Jerusalem
Are Scions off from Natures Olive broke
And grafted new into another stock.
God hath dismantled the old man in part,
VVho full possession once had of the heart.
Some carnal lust falls from them ev'ry day,
That in the soul did formerly bear sway.
They loosed are from the grave-cloaths of sin,
VVhich heretofore they were involved in.
Their wonted paths they willingly forsake,
And in the wayes of God much pleasure take.
The fignet of the word and heavenly print
Hath stamped on their hearts once satans mint.
The spirits gale hath blown upon them, and
Turned their course towards the Holy Land;
Their lives bespangled are with holiness,
His Vertues that hath call'd them they express,
The rayes of Christs transcendent beauty shine
Upon them, and their hearts to him encline.
Temptations womb is in the bitths of sin,
Less fruitful than it heretofore hath been.
The weeds of lust decay in them apace,
And in their room springs up the Herb of Grace.
The Second Mark
THeir souls are carried out with violence,
Heaven to attain they pine at no expence.
As Gods redeemed Israel by his aid
The Land of Promise stoutly did invade:
So his Elect and chosen Generation
Lay siege unto the heavenly habitation.
There's no arriving at eternal life,
They know full well, without this holy strife.
To heaven with all celerity they hie,
As flocks of Doves unto their windows flie,
They march on speedily without delay,
Although there be a Lion in the way.
The wings of Faith bear them above those fears,
Which carnal hearts do penetrate like spears.
They break through all obstructions that they may
Possess themselves of their intended prey.
The batt'ries of their prai'rs'gainst heaven they plant
And storm't, till God to them an entrance grant:
They ask in Faith and will not be denied,
Heaven they must have, what e're they want beside.
At this they aim, to this each saint aspires,
[...] here's the center of their choice desires.
The Third Mark.
THey by the new and living way do go
The vaile of Christs humanity; they know,
That there is no salvation to be had
In any other: if they be not clad
VVith his unspotted robes of righteousness,
They can't be sav'd in any other dress.
There's no name under heaven that can ease us
Of sins enthralment, but the name of Jesus.
Saints by his merits only do attain
Eternal life, which is the greatest gain.
Good works to heavens kingdom are the way,
The cause of reigning that we dare not say.
Christ is the Door, and there's no entring in
But by his bloud, which clonseth from all sin:
He is the curtain, the refreshing screen,
Us and Gods scorching ire that stands between
The deluge of his wrath no man can shun,
Unless with speed into this ark he run:
They lose themselves for ever, who assay
To go to heaven any other way.
The Fourth Mark.
THeir souls oft soar above the spangled sky,
And unto Heaven in contemplation fly;
Mount Tabor they do frequently ascend,
To eye the glory that may there be kenn'd:
They heaven alwayes have within their eye,
VVhich makes them earthly trifles to defie.
Their hearts are only fix'd on things above,
These are the chiefest objects of their love.
The blessed God their thoughts still dwel upon,
An eartely saint's a contradiction.
Though they to so journ here below are driven,
Yet is their conversation still in heaven:
There is their treasure, there their chief estate,
From which no wile their hearts can separate.
How to be great on earth is not their plot,
They use the world as though they us'd it not.
The pleasures of this life they little heed,
Their thoughts upon the fairest objects feed.
They'r alwayes pressing forward tow'rds the mark,
And long to taste the Manna in heav'ns ark.
The Fifth Practical Conclusion.
O Long to be installed in the throne
Of endless glory, let thy spirit groan
After a full and plenary possession
Of blessedness transcending all expression;
Pant after that unparallell'd estate,
One mite whereof surpasseth all conceit.
Be like the Bird of Paradise, which (they say)
Being intangled in the snare, straightway
Begins to strive, and never giveth o're
Till she enjoy her freedom as before.
Sing Simeons swan-like song at his decease,
Lord, let thy servant now depart in peace.
Welcome the messenger of death, which brings
Most joyful tydings from the King of Kings;
Which tells the saints of an approaching crown
Of matchless glory, honour, and renown.
Death is the chariot, which without delay
Saints to their Fathers house soon bears away.
Death lodgeth souls, i'th' twinckling of an eye,
In the sweet bosome of felicity:
Death is to humble penitents no less
Then a short entrance into happiness:
Their nasty loathsome rags death frees them from,
And gives them change of raiment in their room.
Death is the saints ascension day to bliss,
Their marriage day with Jesus Christ it is.
Death is the Charter of their liberty,
The period of their pain and misery:
Death gives them an immunity from sin,
And frees them from the fears they once were in:
Death is the bane of woe, the grave of vice,
The portal opening into Paradise.
Where grace, that in the bud was here below,
Into the flow'r of glory straight shal blow,
Where saints immortal souls made more divine
Shal with the Di'monds of perfection shine.
Where they to their unspeakable delight
Of God himself shal have a perfect sight;
VVhere in their wills there shal a likeness be
To God in holiness and purity.
VVhere having shot the gulph of Death they shal
VVear on their heads a crown imperial.
VVhere the rich caskets of their souls shal be
O'relaid with glories best embroiderie.
VVhere in the river they of pleasures shal
Be bath'd, whose sweetness is perpetual.
VVhere no contaminating tincture e're
Shall their unspotted purity besmear.
VVhere God himself unto the saints shall be
A spring of life to perpetuitie.
Where they shal in the fragrant bosome li [...]
Of their beloved to eternitie;
Where saints by vertue of their Saviours merit
Shal alwayes have fresh in-comes of the spirit.
VVhere the enammel of their glory shal
Never wear off, nor soiled be at all.
VVhere they shal have a rich redundancy
Of peace, joy, comfort and serenity.
Where they their safety shal behold from all
Insulting foes, and their eternal thrall.
VVhere they a glorious kingdom shal receive,
Of which no power on earth can them bereave.
VVhere they shal be partakers of that joy,
VVhich will them satisfie, but never cloy.
VVhere Baca into Beracha shal be
Converted, mourning into melody.
VVhere brinish tears shal never dim their eyes,
Nor shal their ears be frighted more with cryes.
Where sorrows ne're shal damp their hearrs again,
Nor shal their senses be disturb'd with pain.
VVhere they no more shal persecuted be
By Satans imps for their integrity.
VVhere saints with sparkling Gems of glory shal
Be deck'd, and not be envi'd for't at all.
VVhere length of years without the least decay
Of strength they shal enjoy; yea, where for ay
They shal be blessed with the love of many,
And need not fear the jealoufie of any:
VVhere for their labour a Quietus est
Each saint shal have, and ever be at rest.
Where life and immortality they shall
Have for their death in Christ, and Christ for all.
The Conclusion of the whole.
THe Glory that within the curtain lies
Can't measur'd be by our capacities.
There's more within the vaile than by the best
And most sublimed saint can be exprest;
Grace may believe't, but Reason cannot sound
The bottom of't, though never so profound.
In fathoming this rich inheritance,
What's all acuteness but meer ignorance?
He cannot reach this glory that's indu'de
VVith knowledge in the largest latitude.
If Natures secretary did not know
The cause why Euripus did ebbe and flow,
O how then would his Reason puzz'led be
To sound the Ocean of Eternity?
VVhat the inspired Pen-man doth relate
Of natural men and unregenerate,
Respectively to spir'tuals, that they are
Not able them to comprehend or bear:
The same more truly may asserted be,
In reference unto Eternity.
'Tis with the prospect of eternity
As to the Ocean it is with the eye:
It may its surface, not its bottom see.
And so some dark and glimmering knowledge we
May have of heaven, but no mortal eye
Into its in side able is to pry.
The blind-man half restored to his sight
Said, Lo, I see by this imperfect light
Men walk as trees: So may a pur-blind eye
Glance at the riches of Eternity.
Some few weak parcels of the knowledge we
May of it gain, but not its Centre see.
He that was carri'd up above the sky,
To see a Landskip of Felicity,
To take a view of those transcendencies
Heaven was enrich'd withal, what there his eyes
Had seen to their ineffable content,
At his return with what astonishment
Doth he relate it! Yea, he doth confess,
Words were too weak his Vision to express:
The ravishing and beatifical
Sights, which his eyes had blessed been withal,
VVere not to be pourtrai'd in all their glory
By th' Pencil of the rarest Oratory.
The riches that attend Eternity
Transcend the reach of any mortal eye:
They are a sphear above the apprehensions
Of humane understandings or inventions.
[...] though height'ned much with industry
And Grace, their worth and value can't descry.
Eternal glory to our weaker eyes
Is an estate vail'd o're with mysteries,
Much like to pictures, whose rare artifice
By Curtains from our eyes concealed is.
The lanthorn of our shallow intellect
Us to the knowledge of it can't direct.
VVhile grace is of so low a stature, we
Can't look that knowledge should giganticke be.
None can of Glory have a perfect sight,
Till they from earth to heaven take their flight:
The winter of our life must first be past,
E're we the summer fruits of glory taste;
VVhen saints out of the cage of earth shall flye
Into the Region of eternity,
Their pondrous weights of glory they shall find
To nonplus all conceptions of the mind.
Till that time come they must contented be
VVith the first fruits of that felicitie.
VVith those sweet crums their craving stomacks they
Must pacifie till their ascension day.
The fuller knowledge of our future state
Concealed is, our Faith to animate.
VVho dig in Mines where store of Gold doth lye,
Their hopes of wealth do whet their industry.
Many Reserves there are in heaven which
Magnetick are to draw out all the rich
And orient Graces of the saints, and these
VVarm their endeavours, that are apt to freeze.
VVhat in the dark remains doth grace excit [...],
And scrue it up unto a greater height:
Such a desire of knowledge natural
VVas that ingenious Romane edg'd withal,
That while the cause he of Vesuvius
His flaming Vomits with a vigorous
Enquiry sought to know, he in the wombe
Of those ejections did himself entombe.
And how doth this lend Grace a wing to fly,
And with more vigorous conquest it supply!
That he, whose eye of Faith most piercing is,
Can't see the end of his eternal bliss,
Nor sum up what the int'rest of his Glory
Amounts to by the light of sacred story.
This portion, which our intellects can't see
To tell out while they vail'd and clouded be,
Is a most rich and rare encouragement,
VVhereby our graces with a stronger bent
Are carri'd heaven-ward; this Faith enflames,
And makes our hope rise higher in its aims.
This plumes a saint, and makes him higher flie
In contemplation of eternitie.
Faith's Triumph.
ST and not my soul upon a sinners leggs,
But with all speed relinquish thine own dreggs,
Into the arms of thy dear Saviour flie,
There only mayst thou find securitie:
Endeavour to beleeve what thou art never
Able to purchase by thine own endeavour:
Thy debt acknowledge, and then by and by
Thy Jesus will the payment justifie,
Confide not in thy self or what thou hast,
Lest by thy self thou be deceiv'd at last:
Wouldst thou the precious Grace of Faith acquire?
Renounce thy self, cast off thine own attire.
Wouldst thou in purity preserve thy Faith?
Condemne thy self, heed not what Reason saith:
Do misty clouds obscure and dimme thy sight?
Faith will dispel them by its radiant light.
Is Heaven gate fast up against thee blockt?
The Key of Faith will open and unlock't:
Is there in Heavens high-way a roaring Lion?
Faith will o're com't and lead thee unto Sion.
Doth fear surprize thee? Faith will courage bring:
Doth Death affright thee? Faith pulls out the sting.
Is't hard and difficult to gain the crown?
Faith bear'st away with honour and renown.
Be faithful to the death and thou shalt ha [...]
An heavenly garland, though an earthly g [...]ve.
It shall not be to thee (the Scripture saith)
According to thy works but to thy faith:
If before Faith good works can't work salvation,
After Repentance bad ones can't damnation.
As he that crowns thy good works doth thereby
Crown his own gifts, so doth he magnifie
His own free Grace, that pardoneth thine evil
Works, which enslaved thee unto the Devil;
Cast anchor here my soul, let nothing e're
Remove thee, in thy Faith still persevere.
And when the waves of thy corruptions beat
Into thy leaking vessel, and do threat
Thine utter ruine and eternal bane,
By true Repentance pumpe them out again.
FINIS.