Grapes from Canaan
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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
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 Paul's 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 scribbling humor of this age, or that as dark as I am, I should so little see into myself, as not to know my rude and undigested Labors unworthy public light: When I first designed within myself the composure of this ensuing Poem, my Thoughts were not in the least tendency for a Publication; yet through the persuasion of some Friends (whose better judgments I could not but value above mine own private Opinion) I have sont my unfledg'd Muse abroad into the World, humbly assuming the boldness to shroud it under the wing of Your Honors Protection, assuring myself it will find the better welcome 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 itself, 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 Favors, which challenge more than 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 myself, 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 public good, so they will signify to Your Honor a Mind sensible of, and a Heart thankful for the many free and noble Favors vouchsafed to my Relations and my Self. Sir, I am very confident Your judicious Eye may running read many rude unpolishit 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 favorable 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 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 fullness 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 myself
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:
Who 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 mixed 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;
Who such a Pearl have in their eye,
The worlds Enjoyments by and by
Will 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 womb
Of Mother-Earth again entombe,
Be sure to get an interest
In that prepared place of rest,
Whose happiness cannot be expressed.
Bid Earth adieu, and fix thy Love
Upon those endless joys 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,
Who are translated far above the sky,
Into the Region of Eternity.
Inspire, and actuate my trembling Muse
With heavenly Raptures, let thy power 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
Within the veil, 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,
Which best befits a subject so divine,
And makes it with the greater luster shine.
The Gordian knot of glory to untie
Would puzzel the acutest ingeny.
O let thy wisdom then, my thoughts direct,
Unveile my dark and clouded intellect.
Guide my unskillful hand, that so I may
Without a blot, heavens 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 bosom lie,
Of soul inamouring felicity.
And since this is a task, that doth require
The lofty airs of an Angelic 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 cannot express, I may admire.
To his Honored Cozin, Mr. Francis Taylor, upon his Divine Poem. 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 .
What Singer's this the Poet calls for thus?
Me thinks
Dear Taylor
thou art this
Demodocus.
'It is 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
Whose souls are filled with a diviner light.
This heavenly light adorns thy nobler mind,
The world's mistaken, that accounts thee blind:
A veil '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 whatit will ever be,
Even darkness still. This hath thy glory been
While th' Curtain's drawn without, thou art light within.
And here thou hast th' advantage too, while we,
That fondly please ourselves, 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)
'It is ever dark, and yet 'tis ever day.
So true is that even in Philosophy,
'It is not the eye, the soul alone doth see.
By thy
Seraphic
Poem find the way
To that celestial throne, yea charm'st their cars
By this the truest
harmony of the spheres.
Felices animae, quibus haec cognoscere primis,
Inque domus super as scandere cura fuit.
Altus humanis exseruisse caput.
〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 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 enlightened mind.
Our pur-blind eyes, which dazzle at the glory
Of worldly Objects, frail 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 lie
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
Within the veil, where blessedness excels,
Where Saints coelestial, with Angels sing,
Eternal Praise, to the Eternal King.
We see those Vines, which in this Desert grow;
You spy that Vine, where Milk and Honey flow;
We Clusters pluck by Day, but sour and tart;
You gather Grapes by Night most sweet, which Art
Had we obtained, 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 willed 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 control,
Can bring Light out of Darkness, and can make
Thy loss thy gain, thy misery our mistake.
We'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 fixed on high.
I'have sometime thought thee blind, but now I see
'Twas my own thoughts were darkened; as for thee,
Thou only hadst thy sight a while sequestered,
To keep thy higher thoughts from being pest'red
With Earths diversions; nay, who will not say,
That reads with care what thou doest here display,
But that this thy Divine Apocalypse
Doth speak thine eye-sight only in th' eclipse
By th' interposing beams of that great light
Above, whose glory dazzles 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 conceived in any heart,
Except (as now to thee) revealed 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 swallowed up of Glory.
TO Mr. FRAN. TAYLOR, ON HIS Grapes from Canaan.
Taylor,
THou art no Water Poet, not by wine
Art thou inspired, 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 opened, 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 veil 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 style 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 measured truths dost tell in that
Celestial Globe of thine, and heavenly 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 cheers,
In dangers comforts, animates in fears,
And makes us with a virtuous scorn disdain
To yield in Trials, and count losses gain:
It doth relieve, although it doth rehearse
(High mysteries) our dullness 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,
WEreit not a
Solaetisme
in Love, I'd say
Welcome from heaven (for sure y'have been that way)
But if not so, it must from
Patmos
be,
Where you have seen Landskip'd-Eternity.
Were
Metempsychosis
in fashion now,
'It is probable Saint
John
must live in you:
Your Book's a Fountain, but the Seals are gone,
And all you write is Revelation:
Which when I read, my soul is ravished, and
(Like to Religion) doth on
tip-toe
stand,
Threatning departure in sweet ecstasy,
In which I neither truly live, nor die;
And what to
Plato's
Scholar did betide,
(Wereit 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 air,
Sometimes a
Baptist-Quaker
mingle there?
No doubt there did: how fondly then do we
Fall out in the' way, who must in the' End agree!
We all embrace one fundamental Light,
Our hands do join, 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 Prayer for Life,
When Heaven so calm, and Earth so full of strife?
When Christendom her fields are now bespred
All over 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 cool an Element to make a saint;
Our boisterous age winds up the Nation high'r
And needs must be baptized with blood and fire.
For many years Intelligences came
Proclaiming wild-fire from the
Germane
flame,
Where kindred-blood was mingled with the Rhyne,
To wash away th' excesses of their wine.
And now the sturdy
Swede
with skillful steel
Doth let all
Poland
blood, to make it feel
This two-edge'd truth; when God thinks fit to beat,
Luther
shall strike as hard as
Mahomet.
But stay; these lines do run too black: my Prayer
Shall therefore be for
England's
passover:
And while the Maids plant Laurels on your Brow,
I will sing an
Eulogy
to Faith, and You.
Triumphant Faith! How stoutly doest thou scorn
The testimony which from sense is born!
Enoch
by Faith Death's Trophyes did out-brave,
And where we fall, he did over-leap his grave,
Still winding up the weights of flesh so high,
His body step'd into Eternity.
Nought could fore-tell but Faith's Astrology,
The world debauched must of a Dropsy die;
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
Where all the seminals of life he keeps.
By this when
Sarah
in her wrinckls lay,
And all her white and red did fade away,
When 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
Nile
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 she's weak & gray:
Behold a Christian
Homer
without eyes
By Faith out-sees two Universities.
William Jacob, 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 .
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
Where every 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!
Who, 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 cannot be told by those that hear.
Thy lines, thy words, and every letter
Are so well suited to thy matter,
That from King
David
I will defend it,
Thou mayst be lineally descended.
He of the Earthly City wrote,
To praise the Heavenly is thy Plot;
Whose glory doth so shine in thee
Though blind thou canst not choose but see.
When once the Soul hath fixit its eye
Upon the Glory of things on high,
And seen its Christ within the veil,
What matter though the Body's fail.
Haste then my Soul! With this good guide
Haste to that Glory here descri'd;
Thou needest not fear to go astray,
When this great Seer leads the way.
Where Angels and where Seraphim,
Where blessed Saints and Cherubin,
Praises continually do sing
To God, our God, and heavenly King.
Frederick Primrose.
〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 .
〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉
〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉
:
〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉
〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉
.
〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉
〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉
.
〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉
〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉
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〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉
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〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉
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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, entitled, 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 refined
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 wrapit 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 near.
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; sailing over
Remotest Seas, new Islands to discover.
Home they return, their richer vessels hold
A fraught of naught, 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 bags 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 leisure;
See there the end of their laborious pleasure!
But as for thee (my truly Honor'd Friend)
Thou Rigg'st thy Vessel for another 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 God's Word;
His Spirit's the Wind, that drives thee by degrees
O're the calm back of th'
Erythraean
seas,
I mean Christ's blood: thou take'st a view of heaven,
Returnest richly fraught with Jewels, given
By God himself; by doing good thou thriv'st,
Thy lands enriched; this is the trade thou driv'st.
Like
Noah's
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 pleased 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 joys in heaven, which are only sure
And stable, shall eternally endure
In spite of time; there the blessed Saints advance
Their heightened notes above the reach of chance.
Be practically good; bid sin good-b'wy,
And Glory's thine, I will warrant you; I, I,
'It is 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.
Heaven 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 expressed!
Thrice happy be that soul, who (thirsting) gapes
To drink this liquor, pressed from
Canaan's 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
-
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 join'd r. joined. p. 40. l. 27. for styled r. stilled. 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 sour,
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 Logic 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 unparalleled
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 Crystal, and rich Mines of Gold,
With Rocks of Diamonds, wondrous to behold,
Islands of Spices, and the Pearly coast,
(Of which some Travelers so much do boast)
The stately and sublime Pyramids,
Diana
's Temple, and such like as these,
Mausolus
tomb in all its pomp 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 bosom 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
Wisdom out-shines, and far surpasseth all
That eye, ear, or the heart of men could ever
See, hear, or know, though heightened with endeavor:
And this so rare, and admirable light
On Earth, discovering unto our sight
The treasures of Caelestial and Divine
Wisdom 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 joys above
It is compared which by the God of Love
For those ordained are, that have stricken sail,
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 enlarged capacity
Of men? For human 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 College
Shall differ, as a little Infants doth
From his who is arrived at perfect growth.
As knowledge by a glass from apprehension
Of real objects, till the great convention,
That fullness we of light cannot pierce, nor pry
Into the bottomless profundity
Of endless joys, nor in that brightness 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 joys, which know no end.
It is as easy 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 Owls 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 dazzled be,
And even struck stark blind, should they but see
The sparkling luster, 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 over-flowing Fountain we
Canit have a full draught, yet a taste may be
Attain'd on Earth, though the whole Harvest cannot
Be here enjoyed 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 glimpse, 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 expressed.
Heavens Altitude.
THat blessed place which Saints by Faith descry,
Is set out by a mountain great and high:
It hath its situation 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 ofttimes high,
And though they could their Nests build in the sky,
So firmly, that they thought none could remove them,
Yet shall 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 human batteries;
A Castle reared on a towering 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 beautify 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 advanced 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 contemn,
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 Fabric, 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 soil doth pass
Refined Gold, and most transparent Glass.
Its Emblem'd by the saphire stone, which hath
A precious virtue init (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 poison to expel, heaven is so pure
That sin and sinners it will not endure.
That air is from malignant vapors freed,
No Viper of corruption there doth breed.
The Serpent which to sin did man entice,
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 celestial 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 banished from that holy ground.
Indeed on Earth of sin few stand in awe,
Men set up Wickedness 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 would not 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 ordained to bliss.
It is a Garner wide enough to hold,
Those blessed Grains whose number cannot be told.
How ample is the
New Jerusalem?
Where every Saint's decked with a Diadem.
Though myriads of Saints inhabit there,
Yet every Saint doth move in his own sphere.
'It is 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 luster 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 colors, and doth show,
Each Herb and Flower in its most verdant hew.
'It is Natures smile, the Universes gloss,
Who wants the light, doth need no greater cross,
Light beautifies the creatures with its rays,
It is on bodies a bright paraphrase.
Whether in the 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 plays the hypocrite.
Whither in a Lamp it doth epitomize
It self, or in a spark itself comprize.
How e're 'tis pleased itself to manifest,
Or in what form soever it is dressed,
Such a commanding luster in its face
It always carries, as itself doth grace:
Yet O how dark doth Light itself appear,
When to the fountain it of Light draws near?
The place of rest that in the world to come,
Remains for saints, is a
diaphanum.
It is not like the Element over head
That's here and there with stars enammelled,
No, 'tis a Body wonderfully bright,
Being all over 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-shroud,
A Sun that cannot 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,
No winds nor waves can stirit with all their might.
The tabernacle, which 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 forever,
Nothing shall them and their Redeemer sever.
Their Lease of Heaven perpetual shall be,
Stamp'd with the broad seal of Eternity.
Eternity's a Day that hath no Night;
A Spring that hath no Autumn, 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 joys, 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 aim
Of man's ambition, that which doth inflame
His aspiration most, a confluence
It is of Riches and magnificence,
Of glory, pomp, 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 climb to a crown?
What
Machavillian
depths, what strange adventures?
What stretching of men's brains upon the tenters?
What cunning Plots, what rolling 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 proved (as we find
In story) bloody Cock-pits in this kind.
An heavenly Kingdom.
AN Heavenly Kingdom
'tis to intimate,
That it in excellency, pomp, 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 liberty:
But
an Inheritance
to us conveyed,
And sealed by th' highest price that e're was paid.
Which will as orient and as precious 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 never 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 always be as fresh and full as at
The first it was, their glorified estate
Shall never 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
styled is, its pomp 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 arms of Christ, which he
Deemed the center of felicity;
A Privilege 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 luster they
Donit 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 precious Faith (a jewel in God's eye)
O
••
blended is with incredulity,
And our humility with so much pride
Is stained, that it can hardly be descri'd;
Our graces flame (alas) is not so pure,
But that some smoke doth often it obscure;
Our Virtues here are in their infancy,
And cannot arrive at full maturity,
Till on the top of
Jacob's
Ladder we
Are mounted, and do Christ in heaven see:
To be with Christ is held in sacred story
To be the highest link in the chain of glory.
What isit the pious soul esteems most meet
For him to covet? is it not the sweet
Presence of Christ? For naught on earth he cares
But what the image of his Savior bears.
He loves religious duties, but whence isit?
Because they manuductions are to Christ:
He prays 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 fly,
We plume'd with Faith to him again do hie.
If in an O
•
d'nance Christ be not, instead
Of meat we on an empty dish do feed.
Christ's all a Christian can desire, and more.
The several graces which in the saints of yore
A pleasing luster yielded though but dim,
Are all at once conspicuous in him.
Who 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 Wine
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: When he was here
On earth, the light of his Divinity
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 sphere of bliss.
O what a blessed sight willit be to see,
Christ clad in the' Robes of our humanity!
And in that human nature placed higher
In dignity, than the melodious Choir
Of glorious Angels, who to heavens King,
Do everlasting
Hallelujahs
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 in the' heavenly Diadem:
Therefore, St.
Paul
desired not to be
In heaven, but with Christ, whose company
The heaven is of heavens—
Our being with our blessed Savior, shall
Not only local be, but conjugal;
Our eyes shall so behold him, as that we
Shall be one with him to eternity:
What nearer is than Union? or what's sweeter?
It is the spring of joy, and makes the creature
Happy beyond conceit: by virtue we
Of that blest Union, shall partakers be
Of those transcendent beauties, wherewithal
Christ's human 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 are in the way;
But when they to their journeys end are come,
He, them with Robes of Glory welcomes home.
How full of luster, 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 comprised may be
Within the verge of their humanity
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 sphere,
Some print, it of its beauty leaveth there;
And 'twixt the Sun-beam and the glass, it is
No easy 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, God's Church on Earth must grant
To be triumphant, and not militant.
But see the honor of the saints; O they
Shall all be Kings at their ascension day:
We, 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
Woven intoit; the crown of Kings oft gall
Their royal heads, they by experience find
Them both with care and sorrow to be lined.
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 shall
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,
Who 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
With Christ; being fully join'd to their Head,
Their
joys
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 called a place of weeping, they that here,
For all their sins would never shed a tear,
Shall weep enough, when they tormented lie
I' th' scorching flames of endless misery.
But when the saints have gained the heavenly crown,
Christ from the willows will their harps take down.
He, for his trumpeters and heraulds there
Will call, who at his beck do all appear.
The glorious Angels, that celestial Choir,
With one consent, do mutually conspire,
To warble forth the anthems 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 in thearms of Christ, it were
Possible for a saint to shed a tear,
It would, without all paradventure, be
A tear of joy. Christ to eternity
With 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 pinnacle of joy, where she
From all afflictions ever shall be free.
Sorrow's a cloud, that's gathered in the heart,
Upon the apprehension of some smart:
And weeping, which the offspring is of pain,
A cloud of grief is dropping into rain.
But Christ the sun of Righteousness, shall shine
So brightly in the heavenly
Palestine,
That there no interposing clouds shall be;
No sorrow mixed with our felicity.
In heaven there's no Devil to entice,
Nothing to breed, or to engender vice.
Saints in the bosom there of peace shall rest,
No enemy there shall be to molest.
Though
Israel
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,
We shall no more be vexed 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 Pilgrim
〈◊〉
, in the' vale of misery,
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 roar.
So long as sin our nature doth deface,
And a co-habitant remains with grace,
While Saints do feed on such unwholesome 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 tide 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 arrive,
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 oppressed
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 labor is.
No weariness the saints shall there infest,
Their work's their case, their motion is their rest:
They labor here for rest, but there they shall
Rest from their labors, 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 are here below,
Sudden eclipses in our hemisphear
To over-cloud our comforts oft appear.
We here in danger are of losing what
Our heaven-blest industry hath fairly got.
He that upon the pinnacle is placit
Of honor, doubts his honor 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 over-reached 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 isit
But love of self, and no true love to Christ.
Yea, when the holy Spirit hath me taught
And in my soul some sound persuasion 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 offense should fall,
And so God's spirit grieve, and deeply gall
His own awakened conscience, and the heart
Of God's 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 vapors, 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 Savior lie,
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 cannot be annoy'd,
To wit, the soul, yet oft the ship's destroyed.
Sometimes the winds of strong temptation blow,
Those northern winds, and the poor Christian now
God's favor questions much, and gladly would
Know if his name were in God's Book enrould.
And though in Christ having an interest,
There is no danger, yet his heart cannot 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 have shot the Gulf, my soul is now
secure:
I am 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 offense
Towards God & man have, yet their innocence
By poisoned arrows of malicious words
Oft wounded is, which sharper are than swords.
The Devil that old serpent sticks not to
Spit out his venom at the godly through
The mouths of wicked men, if he cannot smite
Their consciences with his keen darts, and fright
Their souls into dispair, he then will put
A dead fly 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 stained with hypocrisy:
Saint
Paul
was styled 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 forever
Was called of the people a deceiver:
And still the Devils instruments assay
The saints in ugly colors to pourtray.
A heinous sin, no doubt, 'tis to defame
A Christian by bespattering his good name,
It is no less than murder, rather he
Would lose his life, than's credit soil'd should be.
Who so his neighbor wounds in's reputation
For it can never make him reparation.
Flaws in men's credit are like blots in white
Paper, which one can hardly fetch out quite.
Or if the wound itself should cured be,
Some skar to their perpetual obloquy
Would still remain; in fine, they do defame
The God of saints, who blast the saints good name.
Believers have God's picture on their hearts,
And he that casteth his malicious darts
Against it, or profanely spits upon it,
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 he'l bring forth as the light,
Or else without all peradventure at
The day of Doom their names he will vindicate,
Though troublers now of
Israel
styled they be,
The day shall come when their integrity
By him shall be proclaimed, 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 redeemed,
Of whom the world so basely here esteemed.
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 obloquy
Which here below on their good names did lie,
Estsoons shall roll away and they out from
Among the pots immediately shall come,
Where they were blacked and sulled, and shall 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 init.
When we are advanced to the celestial throne,
Grace shall be flower'd into perfection:
It then most certainly refined 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 eternity.
No smoke of imperfection shall obscure
That radiant flame, or render it impure.
Our
graces
in such orient colors 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 swallowed up in glory.
THE BEAUTY AND BLESSEDNESS OF Glorified Bodies.
WHile we are on Earth, our earthly tabernacle
Is of infirmities the receptacle,
Physicians find with all their art and skill
Enough to do to pieceit 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
Whitehall.
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 splendor, 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
shanit 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 inquire, 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
Savior 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 stripped 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 aver'd,
That
Adam
died had, though he never had erred.
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 lived 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 sovereign 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 crystal streams of heavenly bliss,
Did in his body bear the marks of his
Dear Lord and Savior: but our bodies when
They are possessed of the magazen
Of blessedness, impassible shall be
From agonizing torments wholly free,
That such a passion bodies glorified
Have, as delightful is, cannot be denied,
Since they of joy are capable, but this
Is certain, when they in the lap of bliss
Once dandled are, to violence they shall
Ne're be exposed, or misery at all.
Heavenly Bodies Agile.
THe bodies of the saints terestrial
Are heavy in their motion, but they shall
Be with incredible agility
Endow'd, when they above the blew-flower'd sky
Translated are into the throne of bliss,
Which for triumphant saints prepared is.
A lump of Lead which to the bottom still
Sinks, being wyre-drawn by the workmans skil
Into the form and fashion of a Boat,
(Saith
Agustine
) will upon the waters float:
And shall not God give that ability
Unto the body of a saint, when by
His sovereign power 'tis raised 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 celestial crown,
That like a Leaden-plummet pulls at down.
But when the grave from out its pregnant womb
Shall cast its treasure, at the day of doom,
When saints out of their beds of earth shall rise,
And be refined, it shall be otherwise:
Elementary gravity shall no
Impeding obstacle ere be unto
Their bodies then, but swift and facile they
Shall in their motion be, and that for ay.
Heavenly BODYES Amiable
THe Body when to Heaven it takes its flight
Shall be like iron filed and made bright,
It shall coruscant be, and with divine
Luster in the celestial Orbe shall shine.
Like to the sun in splendor it shall be,
Nay seven times brighter in its claritie:
The Body of a saint impure before
And drossy, like the Gold when in the ore,
Shall glister, when reformed and glorified,
Like burnisht Gold in the' furnace often tried.
It so transparent then and clear no doubt
Shall be, as that the soul shall sally out
At every part, and through the bodies as
The Wine shall sparkle through a Venice-glass.
Such glorious brightness and resplendency
The body steeped in felicity
Innoble shall, that should we it compare
With
Sols
most radiant beams that gild the air,
We to th'expression of the excellence
Of its illustrious pre-eminence
Shall nothing say at all —.
The beauty and blessedness of Glorified Souls.
IT would an endless labor be no doubt,
If I should undertake to shadow out
The several glories of each faculty
Of the refined soul, (undoubtedly)
All human rhetoric and angelical
Too narrow is e're to express them all
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 enlarged shall be
With knowledge ith' superlative degree,
It all things there cognoscible shall know,
That from its eye were veiled here below:
Whatever knowledge comes within the sphere
Of finite understandings it shall there
Perfectly comprehend, no mystery
Shall 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 enamored, that they did contemn
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 human 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 reality.
Ambitious Princes are not always jolly,
But are sometimes over-whelm'd with melancholy,
And men over-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
inferior knowledge
to the height
Shall there be raised by him who dwells in
light,
And so completed be as that the least
And lowest saint of heaven once possessed
The causes of
all natural things
far more
Exactly comprehend shall than before,
And have a clearer sight of the conclusions
Of art, through th' optics of divine infusions,
Then ere could be attained by the eye
Of Nature, Reason, or Philosophy.
In every kind of
human learning
there
Some strange
aenigma's
daily do appear,
Which exercised have from time to time
The bravest wits, but (ah) so dark, so dim
By nature, is each intellectual eye,
That they those Gordian knots could never untie;
Whether the rolling 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 virtually
Containing the other two, too intricate
A question is for human 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 aches,
His reason's dim'd, a second sadly cries,
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 pleased to recreate
Himself in the' shadow of his own conceit,
Another all his netves so long doth bend
Til they oft snap asunder in the end:
You
Socrates
may in the twilight see
Sadly lamenting the obscurity
Of his benighted state, and telling you,
His Lamp can naught but his own darkness show.
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 cannot by all his industry
His former Notions cal to memory.
Look on the Naturalists head and you shall see
It non-plust with an occult quality.
But when the soul ascendeth up on high,
All misty clouds shall be dispelled by
The clear sun of a knowledge more refined,
And chas'd out of the region of the mind.
So that it then exactly shall descry
The causes, natures, rise and progeny,
Together with the ends of all things that
Jehovah's
powerful word did e're create.
It clearly then each Gospel mystery
Which here surpast all human scrutiny
Shall see, and most exactly comprehend
The darkest passages that e're were penned,
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 shall read,
Why then are they baptized for the dead?
When saints the heavenly paradise inherit,
They shall be hold with ravishment of spirit
Those sacred mysteries, which here below
Some boldly dive into, but cannot know;
They then shall see and shall rejoice to see
How
three
make
one,
and
one
again makes
three:
They then shall apprehend with admiration
The miracles of Christ his incarnation,
They then the dark and secret mystery
Of providence exactly shall descry.
While we in tenements of clay do dwell,
What God is doing of we cannot tell:
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 cannot trace:
But when we'e vested in the costly dress
And choice attire of heavens happiness
A
reason of divine transactions we
Shall then without all peradventure see
In every providence we then (no doubt)
A
wonder or a mercy shall 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 colors laid, it by and by
Appears most amiable to the eye.
We who in robes of flesh are clothed 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 portraiture of providence drawn ous
In all its lively colors, it (no doubt)
Will be a blessed and a glorious sight,
Feeding the soul with infinite delight.
In fine, when saints upon the shore do land
Of blessedness, they then shall understand
The mystery of hearts, they then shall see
To their content an heart anatomy:
For every work with every secret thing
Jehovah
then shall into judgment bring.
They then the cabinet designs shall ken,
And privy counsels of the hearts of men.
The heart is deep, we may it well 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 vermin at the bottom shall espy,
That lay before concealed from the eye:
Thus with the heart of man it is, some fair
Streams running on the top there ofttimes are,
A civil life, a specious pretence,
Of zeal, of purity, and innocence.
But when the tryer of the reins shall come
To drain this river at the day of doom,
When God shall make a full discovery
Of hearts, the crawling vermin by and by
Of avarice, and of ambition shall
Appear, and clearly be discerned of all:
All secret things shall 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 Christ's Bride is decked, more excellent
'It is 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
Shall gild the soul to all eternity.
While 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 lodged, and face to face do see;
When
Hallelujahs
we shall with the quire
Of angels sing, the smoke then of desire
Into a
••
ame of Love blown up shall be,
We then shall Love God in the highest degree.
Our love is luke-warm 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 shall blaze and burn as hot asit can.
The damned in a flame of fire shall be,
The saints of Love to perpetuity.
Here flattering objects steal our Love away
From God, but there it never shall decay.
You in the morning may behold the grass
With drops of dew all 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 stir'd
Up by the quickening virtue of the Word,
Or when we see the precious blood of Christ
Trickling asit were down in the Eucharist;
Our hearts then melt with love, some love-drops fall
Down from the Limbecks of our eyes, but all
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 shall see,
Our Love shall fixed as well as fervent be:
It never shall taken off be anymore
From him whom Saints and Angels all adore.
Such beauty in
Jehovah
then shall shine,
That always as a Load-stone most divine,
He sweetly shall attract each heart and eye,
Oh blessed fight! Oh rare felicity!
Between the saints a mutual accord
There shall be too, there Enmity's abhorred;
The Pulse of their affection towards each other
Shall 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 defaced,
That grace cannot so great a luster 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 music all in discords doth consist,
Whose Harp the Cross is, who the truth pretend
To Love, but would not 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 all 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, Jesuit, 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 Wolves to worry Lambs 'tis usual,
For Lambs each other, that's unnatural.
It is an ordinary thing, you know,
Among the thorns to see Christ's Lily grow,
But for this Lily to become a thorn,
And tear itself, to seeit who doth not mourn?
Well this a foil will be the more to set
Off Heaven, there our Love shall ever get
And kept the upper hand of Enmity,
Of judgment there no difference shall be:
I'th journeys end saints shall agree, no doubt
Though by the way they many times fall our.
When once Christ's harp in th'ears of saints hath sounded,
The evil spirit shall be quite confounded:
When to the highest peg of bliss, our strings
Shall once be wounded up by the King of Kings,
No discord in our Music then shall be,
In heaven there's a perfect harmony:
But stay my Muse, forbear to prosecute
This lofty theme, lest thou be stricken mure
By th' never enough admired depth and height
Of heavens bliss transcending all conceit.
None to the life can limne out heavens glory,
Although they study naught 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 joys, to make report,
While he addrest himself unto the task,
Attempting heavens beauty to unmask,
Whilst 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 endeavor?
Dost thou th' expanded Ocean in thy hand
E're think to measure, or to grasp the Land
Within thy shallow fist? Leave altogether
The search of heaven till thou comest thither.
If that bright star was by an heavenly voice
Silenc'd, and from the handling of so choice
A theme prohibited, How then may I
Into those sacred secrets dare to pry?
Let it in brief suffice to know that all
The Rhetoric of the Choir angelical
Is not enough to reach the top and height
Of heavens glory, pleasure, and delight,
Nor all the bitter sighs and hellish groans
Of damned spirits and tormented ones,
Who labor under an eternal cross,
Sufficient to bewail 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 well it never must repent them,
A common course of life must not content them,
Their bosom-sins they must est-soon discard,
Which do their motion heavenward 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 dwell.
In Glories famous University
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
Noah's
ark.
The wine of angels never was nor shall
Be pressed out to fill old casks withal.
Garlands of Glory they shall never wear,
In whom the flow'rs of Grace donit 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 lie,
Make a persume of a perplexity,
By musing often on thine interest
In God, in Christ, and in that place of rest.
Where swallowed up all worldly sorrows shall
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 dismayed,
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 journeys end will make amends for all.
Let us a while endure the cold, and than
The Patriarchs bosom warm us shall again.
Let our feet burn, that we may when we die
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, never was I in all my life before
So cheered as now I am 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 oil of gladness swim and lie
Above the water of adversity,
It out of every cross doth take the core,
It sucks the poison out of every sore.
It draws the anguish out of every groan,
And cutteth each calamity of the stone.
They cannot choose but lead a joyful life,
In whom the thoughts of heaven are most rise.
That crystal 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 bosom of eternity.
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 wait.
Part not with that invaluable treasure,
For a few drops of moment any pleasure.
O hazard not thyself 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 taste
Hath
Cleoparra
now her life is past?
What sweetness now finds
Heliogabalus
In the
Elixars
of his various
And costly
Cates?
What pleasures now arise
From his unheard of sensualities?
O toy not then with beggarly delights!
Divert thine eye from earths enchanting sights;
Relish no earthly joys, nor highly prize
The gilded pomp 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 shall 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 fly,
And there be always 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 vilify
Thy soul that of-set of divinity;
With such vain contemplations donit 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 putrefy 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 fly.
There's no distemper but may in the womb
Of Earth our dying carcases intombe.
Since then we are so brittle and so frail
Let us not cease to peep within the veil,
Let's fix our thoughts upon eternal bliss,
Which our estate behind the curtain is:
Our vessels to that Haven let us steer
And anchor all our meditations there.
The thoughts of Heaven put a mask before
The beauties which all carnal hearts adore.
Of sensual appetites they dull 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 all 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 man's conceit.
When 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
straight of worldly bliss doth fall,
Before the thoughts of joy celestial.
As pretty laboring
Bees,
although they live
I'th' midst of wax and honey in their Hive,
Yet are their nimble wings not hindered 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 heavenward:
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 virtue lose and cannot
Iron attract placed near the
Adamant;
And shall the world thy heart draw and entice,
For all the nearness 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 God's 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 joys celestial.
Their heads with glory never shall be crowned,
Whose hearts were never consecrated ground.
Such in the landskip of a single glance
Shall never behold the saints inheritance.
Or if they do, 'tis to accumulate
The infelicity of their desp'rate state.
Although the serpent into Paradise
Did wind itself the Woman to entice:
Yet no defiled soul by all its skill
Shall e're ascend or scale God's holy hill.
Great
Pompey's theater
was styled by
Turtullian
of all filthiness the sty:
But Heaven's
Nonesuch,
there is not the least
Tincture of sin to stain that place of rest.
There no temptation shall the saints assail,
No sinful lust shall lodge within the veil.
Heaven is the sacred and imperial court
Of God's immediate presence; where (in short)
His purer eyes shall never offended be
With the least rising of deformity.
Marks of our Interest in Heaven.
THey that shall 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,
Who full possession once had of the heart.
Some carnal lust falls from them every day,
That in the soul did formerly bear sway.
They loosed are from the grave-clothes of sin,
Which heretofore they were involved in.
Their wonted paths they willingly forsake,
And in the ways of God much pleasure take.
The fignet of the word and heavenly print
Hath stamped on their hearts once Satan's mint.
The spirits gale hath blown upon them, and
Turned their course towards the
Holy Land;
Their lives bespangled are with holiness,
His Virtues that hath called them they express,
The rays of Christ's transcendent beauty shine
Upon them, and their hearts to him incline.
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 expense.
As God's 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 fly,
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 pray'rsagainst heaven they plant
And stormit, 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 veil of Christ's humanity; they know,
That there is no salvation to be had
In any other: if they be not clad
With his unspotted robes of righteousness,
They cannot be saved 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 entering in
But by his blood, which clonseth from all sin:
He is the curtain, the refreshing screen,
Us and God's 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 forever, 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 always have within their eye,
Which makes them earthly trifles to defy.
Their hearts are only fixed on things above,
These are the chiefest objects of their love.
The blessed God their thoughts still dwell 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 used it not.
The pleasures of this life they little heed,
Their thoughts upon the fairest objects feed.
They'r always pressing forward tow'rds the
mark,
And long to taste the
Manna
in heavens 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 unparalleled estate,
One mite whereof surpasseth all conceit.
Be like the Bird of Paradise, which (they say)
Being entangled in the snare, straightway
Begins to strive, and never giveth over
Till she enjoy her freedom as before.
Sing
Simeon's
swan-like song at his decease,
Lord, let thy servant now depart in peace.
Welcome the messenger of death, which brings
Most joyful tidings from the King of Kings;
Which tells the saints of an approaching crown
Of matchless glory, honor, and renown.
Death is the chariot, which without delay
Saints to their Fathers house soon bears away.
Death lodgeth souls, in the' twinkling of an eye,
In the sweet bosom 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 shall blow,
Where saints immortal souls made more divine
Shall with the Di'monds of perfection shine.
Where they to their unspeakable delight
Of God himself shall have a perfect sight;
Where in their wills there shall a likeness be
To God in holiness and purity.
Where having shot the gulf of Death they shall
Wear on their heads a crown imperial.
Where the rich caskets of their souls shall be
O'relaid with glories best embroiderie.
Where in the river they of pleasures shall
Be bath'd, whose sweetness is perpetual.
Where no contaminating tincture e're
Shall their unspotted purity besmear.
Where God himself unto the saints shall be
A spring of life to perpetuity.
Where they shall in the fragrant bosom li
•
Of their beloved to eternity;
Where saints by virtue of their Savior's merit
Shall always have fresh in-comes of the spirit.
Where the enammel of their glory shall
Never wear off, nor soiled be at all.
Where they shall have a rich redundancy
Of peace, joy, comfort and serenity.
Where they their safety shall behold from all
Insulting foes, and their eternal thrall.
Where they a glorious kingdom shall receive,
Of which no power on earth can them bereave.
Where they shall be partakers of that joy,
Which will them satisfy, but never cloy.
Where
Baca
into
Beracha
shall be
Converted, mourning into melody.
Where brinish tears shall never dim their eyes,
Nor shall their ears be frighted more with cries.
Where sorrows never shall damp their hearts again,
Nor shall their senses be disturbed with pain.
Where they no more shall persecuted be
By Satan's imps for their integrity.
Where saints with sparkling Gems of glory shall
Be decked, and not be envi'd for it at all.
Where length of years without the least decay
Of strength they shall enjoy; yea, where for ay
They shall be blessed with the love of many,
And need not fear the jealoufie of any:
Where for their labor a
Quietus est
Each saint shall 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
Canit measured be by our capacities.
There's more within the veil than by the best
And most sublimed saint can be expressed;
Grace may believeit, but Reason cannot sound
The bottom ofit, though never so profound.
In fathoming this rich inheritance,
What's all acuteness but mere ignorance?
He cannot reach this glory that's indu'de
With knowledge in the largest latitude.
If Natures secretary did not know
The cause why
Euripus
did ebb and flow,
O how then would his Reason puzz'led be
To sound the Ocean of Eternity?
What the inspired Penman 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.
'It is 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 enriched 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,
Were 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 sphere above the apprehensions
Of human understandings or inventions.
〈◊〉
though height'ned much with industry
And Grace, their worth and value cannot descry.
Eternal glory to our weaker eyes
Is an estate veiled over 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 cannot direct.
While grace is of so low a stature, we
Canit 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;
When saints out of the cage of earth shall fly
Into the Region of eternity,
Their ponderous weights of glory they shall find
To
nonplus
all conceptions of the mind.
Till that time come they must contented be
With the first fruits of that felicity.
With those sweet crumbs their craving stomachs they
Must pacify till their ascension day.
The fuller knowledge of our future state
Concealed is, our Faith to animate.
Who dig in Mines where store of Gold doth lie,
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
Warm their endeavors, that are apt to freeze.
What in the dark remains doth grace excit
•
,
And screw it up unto a greater height:
Such a desire of knowledge natural
Was that ingenious Roman edge'd withal,
That while the cause he of
Vesuvius
His flaming Vomits with a vigorous
Enquiry sought to know, he in the womb
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,
Canit 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 cannot see
To tell out while they veiled and clouded be,
Is a most rich and rare encouragement,
Whereby our graces with a stronger bent
Are carri'd heavenward; this Faith enflames,
And makes our hope rise higher in its aims.
This plumes a saint, and makes him higher fly
In contemplation of eternity.
Faith's Triumph.
ST and not my soul upon a sinners legs,
But with all speed relinquish thine own dregs,
Into the arms of thy dear Savior fly,
There only mayst thou find security:
Endeavor to believe what thou art never
Able to purchase by thine own endeavor:
Thy debt acknowledge, and then by and by
Thy Jesus will the payment justify,
Confide not in thyself or what thou hast,
Lest by thyself thou be deceived at last:
Wouldst thou the precious Grace of Faith acquire?
Renounce thyself, cast off thine own attire.
Wouldst thou in purity preserve thy Faith?
Condemne thyself, heed not what Reason saith:
Do misty clouds obscure and dim thy sight?
Faith will dispel them by its radiant light.
Is Heaven gate fast up against thee blocked?
The Key of Faith will open and unlockit:
Is there in Heavens high-way a roaring
Lion?
Faith will over comit and lead thee unto
Zion.
Doth fear surprise thee? Faith will courage bring:
Doth Death affright thee? Faith pulls out the sting.
Isit hard and difficult to gain the crown?
Faith bear'st away with honor 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 cannot work salvation,
After Repentance bad ones cannot damnation.
As he that crowns thy good works doth thereby
Crown his own gifts, so doth he magnify
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 ruin and eternal bane,
By true Repentance pump them out again.
FINIS.