XXI. A Song of Praise for the Patience of God.
1
Almighty God, how hast thou born
Wrongs not to be exprest,
Daring Rebellion, Injur'd Love,
Light quenched in my Breast!
Man would be God, and down he fell
To teach him better Skill:
Yet he lifts up his bruised Bones
Against his Maker still.
2
Lord, what a Monster is base Man
Thus given to Rebel!
O that thou dost not Cleave the Earth,
And send him quick to Hell!
His Sins for Wages loudly Cry,
Justice with dreadful Sound
Cries too, Cut down this fruitless Tree,
VVhy Cumbers it the Ground;
3
But God waves his Advantages
Of Right and Vengeance too,
And by his single Patience
Doth daring Man out-do.
The Creature doth disdain his God,
By whom he is Maintain'd.
Yet God Maintains this Rebel-worm
By whom he is disdain'd.
4
Fool, Ask not where th'Almighty is.
All Glory to Him give.
Is not his Power most fully prov'd
In Suffering thee to Live?
Was He not God, he could not bear
Such Weights as on Him ly;
Weak things are quickly set on Fire,
And to their Weapons Fly.
5
Why should not Patience make me Sing,
When Hell would make Me Roar?
Lord, let thy Patience End in Love,
I'll Sing for Evermore.
