The Minor Poems of Joseph Beaumont :: :: University of Virginia Library

Still, still deer LOVE, must I
In spight of HERESY,
My thanks on this Days Altar heap;
Thy Goodnes still I must adore,
Which washd a poor
And sin-besmeard Thing, in that deep
And spotless Fount of Purity
Which thy
Compassion broachd to clense that fatal Stain
Which from old Adam, o'r all Soules did reign.

2

Let cruel Hearts deny
Thy mighty Courtesy
To infant Soules, & boldly plead
That Baptisms due to none but those
Whome Years dispose
Unto thy Faith to bowe their head:
Let sacrilegious Impudence
Go rinse
And wash away that blessed Washing Thou
Didst on thy tender newborn Lambs bestow.

335

3

It is enough, (& more;)
Sweet Lord, that I, before
I could desire that Boon of Thee,
Was in Lifes blessed Fountain drownd;
Which cur'd my Wound
Before I felt my Miserie.
Ne'r will I wrong thy Goodnes so
As to
Suspect the Soundnes of that Cure which from
The mighty Saviour of the World did come.

4

But a new wound doth slay
My guilty Heart to Day,
Whilst Recollection tells me how
I have by many a Sinn in grain
Distained again
That Soule which most propitious Thou
Wert pleasd at first to wash so white,
And bright.
O me! my inward Blotts now damp that Grace
And Joy, wch else would gild this Mornings face.

5

Had not thy Hands, & Side,
And Feet, sett open wide
Another Flood; my squalid Soule
Would prove fitt fuel for those Flames
Whose burning Streams
With everlasting Sulphure roll
Into that purple Sea of thine,
Let mine
Afflicted Vessel launch, that I may scape
The most irreparable Wracks Mishapp.

336

6

O make my Heart disdain
Henceforth to entertain
The least of Thoughts, which may invite
Me to dissolve that Faith which I
To Thee & thy
Pure Service, on this Day did plight.
What is this Worlds brave Vanitie
To Me;
What are the Devils, & the Fleshe's Charms?
Since I am thrown into thy nobler Arms.

7

Thine & thy Churche's Arms:
O blessed Nest! No Harms
Can reache Me there, unless I be
Conspirator with them, & fight
Against that Might
Which Thou afford'st to shelter Me.
JESU, forbid it then, that I
Should by
Selftreachery be slain, & onely live
An endless Life unto my Death to give.