Ashrea Or, the grove of beatitudes, Represented in emblemes: And, by the art of memory, To be read on our Blessed Saviour Crucifi'd: with Considerations and Meditations suitable to every Beatitude, and to the holy time of Lent [by M. E.] |
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ASHREA:
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ASHREA:
OR, The Grove OF BEATITUDES: Represented in EMBLEMES.
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THE Eight Beatitudes.
Blessed are the poor in Spirit: for theirs is the Kingdom of Heaven.Blessed are they that mourn: for they shall be comforted.
Blessed are the meek: for they shall inherit the Earth.
Blessed are they which do hunger and thirst after Righteousness: for they shall be filled.
Blessed are the merciful: for they shall obtain mercy.
Blessed are the pure in heart: for they shall see God.
Blessed are the Peace-makers: for they shall be called the Children of God.
Blessed are they which are persecuted for Righteousness sake: for theirs is the Kingdom of Heaven.
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[Tender Arms for our offence]
Tender Arms for our offence,Drawn and stretch'd with violence;
Like a Bow-string now I see,
While upon the bloody Tree,
Cruel nails both long and rough,
Sacred Hands are piercing through.
Thus while tender Arms extend,
The string's fastned at each end:
Jesus Heart is like the Nutt
Of the Cross-bow, where are put
Nimble shafts with vigour sent,
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Sinners (then) prepare your Hearts,
From this bow flie wounding darts.
Stand his Butt, th'Arrows glow,
As th'are flying from this bow;
Midst the Butt, (to place the White)
Stand his mark and let him smite.
Let him pierce and wound thy Heart,
With his torments, pain, and smart,
Shafts of sorrow, grief, and pain,
For thy sins return again.
So thy Soul being cleans'd from sin,
And by Grace made pure within,
Stand Christ's Butt, that, (when contrite)
A clean Heart may be the White.
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Part of the 143. Psalm paraphras'd, concerning true Beatitude.
O rescue me out of the handOf such as thy behests withstand,
Degenerate Children, they, wholly,
And utter naught but vanity.
Whose powerful Arms in my distress,
Were Arms stretch'd forth to wickedness:
Whose Youthfull Sonns, like to a Spring,
Of vigorous shoots, are flourishing;
Whose Daughters, dress'd, their Pride display,
Deckt (Temple-like) in rich array;
Whose store of Corn abundant lies,
Heapt up in their rich Granaries.
Whose Ewes are fruitful, flocks, that go
Mantling the Earth like drifts of snow.
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And in whose Walls no ruins are:
Nor noyse of Thieves, or Rogues, that meet,
Or hideous out-cries in the Street.
Such some admire, and Happy call,
Cause they have blessings temporal;
But I him Blest have understood,
Whose Lord to him is God, all good.
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