A Brief Unveiling of God and Mans Glory
The source for this document is https://quod.lib.umich.edu/e/eebo/A41983.0001.001
Project Note
This is licensed under Creative Commons CC BY-NC-ND. This license allows reusers to copy and distribute the material in any medium or format in unadapted form only, for noncommercial purposes only, and only so long as attribution is given to the creator.
The source of this document is the Early English Books Online (EEBO-TCP) website. Those books were transcribed in a character for character manner and can be very cumbersome to read since there was no standard spelling during that time. Many spelling variations such as "unlesse", "vnlesse", and "vnles" regularly appear.
This project was conceived to clean up those books as much as possible and make them more accessible to the interested reader, leading to the creation of a massive list of variant spellings and their corrections. This was used to clean up the text, but is of course only as complete as the list itself. Because of the nature of the original transcription, some words have missing characters or places where the original language (e.g., Greek) was not transcribed. This effort does not change that. Be aware that the original transcription can also be faulty and in some cases entire sentences may be missing.
Although this is no substitute for a properly compared, proofed, and scholarly edition, I believe that the result is a document which is far more accessible, particularly for searching for terms using standard spelling. The document has been cleaned and presented in what I hope is a pleasing and useful format for the vast majority of Christian brothers and sisters who just want access to read these spiritually nourishing works.
However, a word of warning: The Puritans were a very diverse group of people and their age was characterized with godliness, but also much upheaval, disputation and strife. They disagreed on many doctrines and some of these works contain less orthodox or Scriptural views than others. The reader is strongly advised to read with discernment, particularly if it is unknown whether author is trustworthy.
This project took a huge amount of time and skill to bring to fruition. I would particularly like to thank David Jonescue for the initial list of Puritans he found on EEBO and the concept behind this project as well as the continuous, unceasing efforts toward seeing this complete. Without his labor, this would not be available. Alex Sarrouf was invaluable in providing the initial list of over 7,000 spelling variations he had identified and corrected, as well as continuing to review more than 16,000 additions to that list for any typos.
Logan West
(with David Jonescue and Alex Sarrouf)
www.puritansearch.org
A BRIEFE VNVAILING OF GOD AND MANS GLORY. In which is,
- 1 A brief rehearsal of Happiness in general.
- 2 How this Happiness is manifested by Jesus Christ.
- 3 The Souls Song of Love.
LONDON, Sold by THOMAS FAUCET in the Black-Friers. 1641.
THe creatures all of several kinds, to find felicity,
Doth join both hands and hearts in one, if they may it espy:
This golden ball each man would have, and therefore runs a race,
From east to west, frō north to south, they spare no time nor place,
Some scattered ends of it they find, and by it wet desires,
Which soon are lost or else doth fall, below those heavenly fires,
Content, content each man doth cry, but that is it alone
Which dwelleth in eternity, where joys are all in one,
Where all things lovely have their rise,
Their fountain and their spring,
Upon this Mountain there doth sit, the Potent mighty King,
With crowns of glory on his head, with strength on his right hand,
The praise alone of beauties fair hath him at all command,
His throne alone (surrounded) is with honors highest praise.
If you will know his name, he is called the Ancient of days;
Who is the stock & root of good, where sweetness loseth measure,
The height & depth of glories great, makes up his exhaust treasure,
Who lived before to give him breath, who gave to him his spring,
Shall any force him from his throne, and there sit down and sing?
Did any sill his heart with joy? if so, show forth his Name,
If not, then look upon his face, that you may spread his fame:
If happiness you do pursue, if pleasure be your aim,
If all things sweet you mean to meet, and so make sure of gain,
If worlds of honor you would have, if crowns be your delight,
Or if you love to please your eye, in any lovely sight,
If you on substance love to stand, when comes a stormy hour,
Or whē the darts of death are thrown, y would hide you in a tower,
Then fly into his bosom fair, where beauties all do meet,
And when thou enterest in that place, with smiles they will thee greet
Each glory shows a pleasant face, thou canst them not withstand;
They will allure and make thee sure to be at their command,
Such Music sweetness thou wilt find which will thee force to stay,
The voice of praises will thee charm, and bid thee come away;
And dwell forever in this sight, where mysteries are made known.
Then whatsoever thou understand'st doth sure become thine own:
If there thou findest Wisdomes seat, and searchest out her spring,
The streams of glory she brings forth, will crown thee as a king,
Who knoweth what power, what force she hath?
None yet withstood her arm,
Who ever fled into her bower, and by it purchased harm;
How safe are all that lie down there, though claps of thunder fly,
And though the clouds with darkness thick, over the world do lie?
If Princes rage and at thee swell, they spend their breath in vain.
If snares they lay, the most they get, is labor for their pain.
Thou stand'st upon a mighty rock, thy building sure is high.
Thogh dangers were like armies strong, they cannot thee come nigh
Oh if you would be truly blest, and never know no grief;
Then dwell amongst those streams of joys,
Which each saith I am chief.
There's room enough, thy thoughts may play,
Thy game will still thee please,
Allbonds by Law are there cut off, thy work it is thy ease,
The heighth, the depth, the length, the breadth, I am alone can find,
He knows it well, and by this light refresheth still his mind:
All things in him desired are, and all maintain desires,
Love still doth rest within his breast, and kindles holy fires,
Who ever saw (and loved him not) the beauties of his face,
And if those beams on them did smile,
They clothed were with grace:
And then like Princes they did stand, most comely in his sight,
Their lovely looks doth him persuade, in them to take delight.
And if in such he takes content, which are but as a land
From whence the crop is cut away, and some few years doth stand,
What rest, what joy, what high solace, hath he in fullness store,
Where treasures are with such increase, he cannot ask for more?
And these he sets before his view, forever to be seen;
In all his days there's no decays, each thing is new and green:
The life he lives is called love, and doth his fill enjoy,
He walks along in paths most sweet, where none can him annoy:
Security it is the rock upon the which he stands,
And there in triumph doth he reign, and binds all others hands;
His crown is this, he knows his strength, the armies of his power,
Are quickly gathered into one, and ready at an hour;
He knows his enemies where they lie, their scowts & all their train,
Their plots do make him melody, by these he sees them slain.
He works and none molesteth him, but forthwith gives him way,
His praise his enemies brings to light, in heart though they say nay.
Who would not lie within his breast, his counsels for to know,
And see how powers do there combine, his foes to overthrow:
If there thou stay, thou sure shalt see the Godhead round him flow,
Each glory with it's several light, makes up a lovely show:
These excellencies all do say, we will stand thee instead,
Himself these excellencies are to help him at his need;
Life is the chiefest of his strength, love joins it self to either,
There truth and holiness are met and mingle both together.
Light comprehendeth all the sum, and for all maketh way,
That so eternity may seem, but as one pleasant day,
In which his beauties are displai'd, by pieces at his pleasure
And so the Godhead shows itself, quite boundless in it's measure.
'It is that which comprehendeth all, to it all's but a story;
And like a Prologue maketh way, that it may show forth glory;
All creatures of it speaketh praise and sings a pleasant song,
We dy and vanish quite away that so truth may be strong.
Of this all Angels speaketh high, and owns no other talk,
Their feet are strong to run a race, in this most spacious walk,
Their names, their natures, all they are, this Mystery maintains,
If this were done their life were gone,
Their pleasures turned to pains,
They never speak of any power, but in Jehovah's name,
They are glad to hide them in his tower,
To keep themselves from shame.
O let none grope in darkness thick, to find a pleasant way,
Lest clouds put out his glimmering light, and so he go astray,
The creatures all they are as veils, through which few men can see
Most aim to catch their gaudy shows, and miss felicity,
But if the mystery opened were, some light there would appear,
Then restless should she he until we clime a higher sphere,
Whereas the fountain of all bliss, eternally doth flow,
And from those springs refreshment runs, to all that thither go.
What mighty sea of joy is there? one wave another takes,
Thus we are borne, and tydes of love and sorrows us forsakes.
All spots and stains are washed away, full fair are we and bright,
That so the King of glories great, in us may take delight.
When we are decked with such a dress, as suits with him full well,
Then comes he to his Princely seat, resolving there to dwell,
The throne he is on, is heaven called, where he doth rule with might:
This heaven is his beauties fair, each in his fullest light.
Another dwelling place hath he, which he his Temple stiles,
And there full oft in glory walks, rejoicing it with smiles.
If thou but in his lowest seat his countenance dost see,
Thou shalt at length his throne surmount,
Where honored thou shalt be;
The first and last that ever was, or evermore shall be,
Will on thee set immortal crowns in sign of victory,
Where thou shalt sing new songs of love, forever and for aye:
Where time's lost in eternity that everlasting day.
And thus the God of gods will say, my child all is thine own,
These pleasures sweet, these glories great,
This high and kingly throne:
Here sit thee down, involve thyself, with honors highest fame,
To make thee equal in delights, I will clothe thee with my Name.
In fullest glory spread thyself, here's room for thee to lie,
Thy heart, thy thoughts, and all thou art, is in infinity.
The more thou look'st, the more thou mayest
Still love to look upon,
And look to love and ever gaze
Upon this King alone.
This is the song thou still wilt sing,
I am hath set me free,
And now I walk as set at large,
In midst of liberty.
Sorrowes below me have their seat,
Griefes cannot me come nigh,
The dreadful pangs of death are past,
I own no misery.
As women joy when after pain,
They see their issue come,
And through those joys their pains forget,
As if they nere had none;
So I forget all things that's old,
I wholly them eschew,
And now address myself to joy,
In things most fair and new.
Happiness conveyed by Jesus Christ.
WHen death came on by
Adams
loss,
Our danger might we see,
The presence of true joys were gone,
Men left in misery.
Those beams of light which was our strength,
Were vanished quite away,
The frame and face of all things then,
Must perish and decay.
Alas poor man thou art undone,
Who shall thy loss restore,
And quit thee out of slavish bands,
And cure thee of thy sore?
Must death be still a tyrant strong,
And rule thee at his pleasure,
Or by his many poison'd darts,
Torment thee without measure.
Where is thy strength, look round about,
Will none thee now deliver?
Is there no King with death to meet,
Well furnished with a quiver?
With many arrows sharp and keen,
To sting death to the heart,
And so to make his powers fall,
And ease thee of thy smart?
If one there be, declare his name,
Let all men know his power,
And see the strength of his right arm,
That raised down hath deaths tower,
That so to him we praises may
For ever sing allowed,
And in his bower find a place,
Our selves in storms to shroud,
He is called by name the Son of God,
God in his rich array,
With all his fullness shining bright,
And costly garments gay,
When first light shined in his breast,
This Son then did he see,
The glory of his loveliness,
He counts his Son to be,
By light of this Son he generates,
He stands still in his sight,
And by the spirit of life and love,
He yields to him his right;
Which is to own him as his joy,
The fountain of his pleasure,
Where all his glories are envolv'd,
A Magazine of treasure,
By him he frameth all his thoughts,
And comes to understand
How all designs may come to light,
And prosper in his hand.
In him before time did begin,
He saw a goodly space,
The length is called eternity,
In which he runs his race,
And in all ages shows himself,
As best becomes his Grace;
That so the wise in mystery,
At length may know his face;
In him he walked by pleasant thoughts,
Throughout the world so wide,
And though no world was to be found,
Yet Saints he there espi'd.
In him the children's lives were wrapped,
A place of surest stay,
That them he might know where to find,
Upon their happy day,
By virtue of the spirit of power,
In him all joys do find;
And seeing this resolved is,
For ever in his mind,
Upon him wholly for to spend
His life, and his delight,
And in those pleasures to rejoice,
As armies of his might.
This is his life, herein he joys,
Here is his hearts desire.
Here doth he find beauties combined,
Most purely and entire.
This being so, now doth he think,
How he his name may raise,
And so together with his Son,
Get an eternal praise,
That him he might set forth to all,
He sends him in disguise,
And veils his glory with our flesh,
The world again to rise.
Herein is Wisdomes chiefest part,
Declared and made known,
That so the counsels of the world,
Might quite be overthrown.
Who would have thought the Son of God,
A mortal death must die,
And by his deadly death us bring,
To Immortality.
How many troupes of enemies flock
Against him for to war,
And in the combat him to foil
by many a cruel scar?
But in this battle who was slain?
Wasit he, or wasit his foes,
If he, it was to rise again
To bring them fresher woes,
The prince of darkness Captain was
The chiefest in this fight,
Who from his nature hath his name,
His works are black as night.
With him comes sin, comes death, comes loss,
Their force they do unite,
That so their blows and darts on him,
Together at once might light.
Now, now, or never saith this Prince,
I must me conquest bring,
Or else a captive I must be
Under this mighty King.
This fight was sore to fleshly view,
All might have thought the day,
It had been lost, and we been caught
In hells hands for a prey,
But when all fleshly strength did fail,
Then was the chiefest time,
For righteousness to show it self,
Most glorious and sublime.
The glory of the God-head great,
Upon this Christ our King,
Did rest, and eke it self display,
And there in triumph sing,
There truth and mercy met at once,
Each strove to get the day,
But being reconciled at length
To other each did say,
We'll join our sweetness and our might
And go with glorious train,
That so we may revive and bless
Those that were counted slain.
How mighty did the Godhead flow,
about our Savior sweet,
And by it did present himself,
a sacrifice most meet.
For great Jehovah to delight
and please himself withal.
When he beholds his soldiers stout,
led bondage into thrall.
These soldiers are his Attributes,
each glorious for to see,
Well furnished both with skill and strength,
to make his enemies flee.
Where's death become with all his powers,
and principalities?
'It is gone to hell, and hath it's doom
with darkness and with lies.
The Prince of Hell is now adjudged
in chains of wrath to lie,
And by these chains perplexed sore,
throughout Eternity.
Who was it girt himself with zeal,
or who with fury came,
To tread the Wine-press of God's wrath,
and so to get a name.
What power was that which conquered sin,
whose Wisdom made it's way,
Or can you tell where those joys are,
which hath skarr'd grief away?
He's called, by name
Immanuel,
and well he may so be.
In that he left his royal Throne,
to dwell with me and thee.
The world it was a place whereas
his glory he might show,
And yet though glory did appear,
few men of it did know.
The human nature was a veil,
which kept light from our eyes,
And yet that was the ordinance,
by which our bliss did rise,
Here was the wonder of a God,
a thing so mean and low,
Should bring to pass such mighty things,
and all his Counsel show.
Here's wisdom in a mystery,
and power uncontrol'd,
The Fountaines deep, and sundry Springs
of life you may behold,
For by his death to God we are
restored back again,
And now our enemies wear our bands,
and vext are with our pain.
What pangs, what woe's, what miseries,
must they be sure to have?
Now death is dead, and guilt is fled,
and grief lies in his grave.
Where's darkness now become that clothed
it self with blackness hue,
Can it out-brave the light of life,
and it's bright beams eschew?
If so, stand forth you hellish powers,
where are your spells to charm?
Or show some nurcery that is new,
to bring unlookit for harm.
What is your wit quite lost at once,
can none take us away,
Out of the hands of him whom we
do count our strength and stay?
If by his death so great a loss,
his enemy doth endure.
His life must be a greater cross,
and they must bear it sure,
His Saints are set at liberty,
as men from death set free.
Their joys before them fast do stand,
and in these joys they see
Their Savior compassed with the strength
and height of fullest bliss.
The Father with his glory bright,
with many smiles him kiss.
And thus he saith, my son, I lay
the charge upon thy hand.
The substance of the Godhead great,
is thine for to command.
I know no joy, no rest, no peace,
but what I have in thee.
I am thy strength, thou art my might,
by thee I look to see
The glory of my beauties fair,
abroad the world to speak,
And so to cause things high and strong,
to be esteemed weak.
All flesh must fall before thy face,
though seemingly 'tis gay.
Yet when thy glory doth arise,
its beauty falls away.
My treasure all 'its in thy breast,
the incombs of my praise
Returnes, according to the power
and wisdom of thy ways.
The honor that the Father hath,
'tis gained by the Son.
The Spirit worketh all in all,
and so their praise is one.
The children's life is hid in him,
this life is all things sweet,
Concentred in his breast, the which
makes him a Savior meet.
There's light most full, there's truth most strong,
and glory as a flame,
And holiness amongst the rest,
shows forth his mighty name.
The Image of the Fathers face,
in him is seen most bright.
And whosoever doth it see,
lives in the clearest light.
By it they come to understand
the Father and the Son.
All that they have, all that they are,
to be entirely one.
The life the which each other lives,
is in the self-same good.
The Father is all beauties rare,
the Son this understood.
He dwelleth in his bosom sweet,
and knoweth well his mind.
He's called by name his Counselor
and by him he doth find,
How Wisdomes glory may be seen,
in things that are obscure;
And when he hath no footsteps seen,
then are his ways full sure.
This glorious mystery is so high,
there is none can it find,
If any of it knoweth ought,
'tis he saith I am blind.
It's more then sixteen hundred years,
when first it had a tongue.
And though so long it hath remained,
it still is fresh and young.
The age hereof Eternity,
it doth make known, and we
Shall then by light taste and feel life,
when Conquerors we shall be.
Who shall declare the Fathers mind,
unless it be the Son,
And when men come to know the same,
by it their hearts are won,
To dwell where grace and love doth meet,
and so to find a rest,
Even in his bosom where they know
they are secure and blest.
There are they filled with all delights
their Cup doth overflow,
Their comforts never die nor fly,
but flourish still and grow.
Though they like to
Leviathan,
could drink up Rivers wide,
Yet doth these vast eternal deeps
in their full strength abide.
There are they ever measuring out
these everlasting measures,
And by their labor they do find,
new Springs of living pleasures,
The world and all it's joys are lost,
when they in him are found,
They see all Shadows fly away,
their rest is true and sound.
Was ever any taken up,
into his bosom sweet,
And did not find Loves glorious face,
with smiles him kiss and greet,
Nor ever lay there any space
but had their face with glory
Most richly decked, and in their hearts
there written was a story
Of things most rich, most high, most pure,
mysterious, and unknown,
The world it cannot understand,
because they love their own.
The spirit doth transform and mould
into the image bright,
Both of the Father and the Son
by both their power and light.
All these which are by glorious beams
drawn up into the Son
Lives in the midst of lasting light,
where life doth purely run
More clear than any crystal stream,
more strong than any tide,
The sweetness of this water pure,
invites men to abide,
Where they may drink and be refreshed,
and in themselves may know,
This fountain runs their springs doth rise,
and plentifully flow.
The truth of all is surely this,
that
Jesus
now is set
And made a Prince of high degree,
to show God's glory great:
The Father trusts him with his stock
and fullness of his store,
He hath the rule of all he hath,
he hath not anymore,
This
Jesus
is our brother dear,
he hath our portions sure,
He's true, he's wise, he's strong withal,
in him they are secure:
He like a nurse doth cherish us
by drops as we can bear,
And when we come to greater strength,
then greater is our share:
From him we suck, in him we grow,
into his arms we flee,
There are we compassed with all joys,
and in these joys we see
Our names, our natures, and our life,
most clear, most pure, and bright.
The truth and glory of all we are,
even by the spirit of light;
This spirit searcheth deep into
things that very high.
The length and breadth of glorious store,
it hath before its eye.
That searcheth out the utmost drop
which in the Ocean dwells:
And by its mighty force and power
all noisome things expels,
This spirit like a Dove most swift
from Paradise doth fly.
And from our Savior brings us news
of matters sweet and high,
Whereby we come to understand
God will not live alone,
He dwells with Christ, and Christ in us,
and so we dwell in one,
O this is that which fills our hearts
with singing and with praise,
That what he is, that we shall be
to 'ternity of days.
Let each Saint think all that they have
it cometh from the Son,
Their glory and their flourishing state
comes by his arm alone.
None can see God in
Jesus Christ
but must be forced to yield,
And lay all arms down at his feet,
and say he hath the field.
Can any stand against that thing
which is most fair and gay,
And hath the power of loveliness
to win the heart away?
From lies, from falsehoods, and from dreams,
from many deaths and showers,
And from the hands of iron bands,
and from all doleful hours.
Then do not fear you Saints most dear
if that you know the Son
You do the Fathers face, and love
both see and eke are won
To dwell, to stay, to rest, to sing,
in him, and to his praise,
And eke to sacrifice yourselves,
unto his fame always.
When others spend their time in vain,
and fill themselves with fire,
The which is called the wrath of God
that hot consuming ire.
They know not God nor yet his Son,
where all content doth lie,
And therefore are they bound in chains
of woe and misery.
You Saints weep ore the world that's lost,
they know not where they go.
Though they be blind you know right well
the ground of all their woe.
Oh do not let eternal flames
forever men destroy:
Because like fools a moments time
they will vain thoughts enjoy.
Shew them our Savior where he sits
that so they may arise,
And find much wealth and rest in him,
and so vain ways despise.
But if the world will not you hear,
yet still run you your race,
You shall at last both get a crown
and live in glorious grace.
Above the world, all cares, all fears
which vext you with their wiles,
Your toil's now done, your joys begun,
you are where naught defiles.
A short song of Love.
LOve is the flame that Princes have
still kindling in their breast,
No man can live but he must love,
or else be void of rest.
The rise, the stock, the root it hath
doth spring from something good;
All its desires are as flaming fires
when this is understood,
As rivers run over all the world,
their noise with fame doth ring,
And hasteneth ever to return
where first they had their spring,
And when the Ocean drinks them in,
they quiet are again:
And in their kind they live as if
they freed were from pain:
So love it runs with streams most strong
over hills and mountains all,
It will not fear what force is nere,
it overrunneth all.
And in the fountain of all blis,
it sets it self most sure,
Rejoicing in those mighty waves,
on which it rides secure:
'It is lovelines that love will own
to be a fellow meet
In it to rest, that to embrace
with smiles and kisses sweet,
Loves labor, pain, and all it hath
is ever how to please
The object; and in doing this
To give it self most ease;
'It is ever burning, never consumed,
and soaring very high;
By flames of glory it doth live
in full prosperity:
Stand forth all powers that can be thought,
see if you can it sever
From truth, from beauty, and from strength
where it will dwell forever.
This love is kind, and bountiful,
and freely will bestow
All that it hath it self to boot,
that so it self may grow
More lovely, fair, and excellent
still in the objects eye.
If that is pleased, it is at ease,
and feels no misery.
Who knows how first it had its rise?
Who gave to it its name?
If any did, it must be one
that knew its worth and fame.
It's God that saith his Name is Love,
and well may he so be.
Because in him all glories are
met in an unity.
Light life and love is one in him,
they all grow up together.
Though known to us by several names,
they each accord with either.
He knows all beauties in him are,
his life is this to see.
Then needs must love triumph and joy,
which makes this harmony,
Love walks in every piece of joy,
where ever it doth find,
It will needs rest in glories breast,
and there contents its mind.
Whht mortal man can have this love
to lie within his breast,
But must withal see loveliness
in which he takes his rest;
And wheresoever this appears,
he grows up in desire:
In this he think himself most blest,
and follows it entire.
But man is blind, how little he
of holiness doth know.
Truth's weakly planted in his heart,
and slowly it doth grow;
And hence it comes to pass that we
live in such low desires:
The earth like to a mountain thick
doth hide these heavenly fires.
If you would have your heart a spring,
a fountain, and a well,
And have the mighty waves of love
above their banks to swell.
If you would ever searching be
into the truest treasure,
And find where love had first a seat,
and face of sweetest pleasure.
If ever you would lovely be,
though in the Saints esteem.
And judge of all things true and right,
how ever men do deem,
Then must you know that all things good
doth from the fountain come,
And tides of love will flow amain
and make a spacious room
Within thy heart, and thou shalt see,
all that thine heart can wish.
Love live, sin die, life reign, death fly,
what joy is like to this?
Make haste ye Saints, O do not stay,
where naught can you secure.
Fly to the arms of lovely love,
where joys are clear and pure.
FINIS.