 | A Metrical History of Christianity |  |
The Glory of Divine Truth.
As I my pleasure Boate struck in thy Bay,
Most Holy Truth, I in a fog was lapt.
My latitude was lost, no Star, nor Day
Yeilds me an Observation as it hapt.
Most Holy Truth, I in a fog was lapt.
My latitude was lost, no Star, nor Day
Yeilds me an Observation as it hapt.
Wherefor I dropt a Sounding Stick and found
I could the depth of this Stiffe Current Sound.
And anchorage I saw was good firm ground,
But Shelves to try the Pilates Skill abound.
I could the depth of this Stiffe Current Sound.
And anchorage I saw was good firm ground,
But Shelves to try the Pilates Skill abound.
Wherefore I left my Quadrant, and imply
My Compass. And my optick Glass I tooke
And through this Fog a Shining Sky I Spy
Of Splendent truth that all should on it look.
My Compass. And my optick Glass I tooke
And through this Fog a Shining Sky I Spy
Of Splendent truth that all should on it look.
Wherefore I set a Shoar and in the Soile
Of Holy Truth, the beams of Some rich mine
I there have delved in, I here out quoile
Before your Eyes that you may see their Shine.
Of Holy Truth, the beams of Some rich mine
I there have delved in, I here out quoile
Before your Eyes that you may see their Shine.
Those Truths that were like Clouded Stars last age,
That through truth's Optick then did shine Shine still.
To mention them I shall not now engage
Save as their beams in other Vessells Still.
That through truth's Optick then did shine Shine still.
To mention them I shall not now engage
Save as their beams in other Vessells Still.
The which I now attend without delay.
Preceptive truth these darksom dayes do shame.
Prophetick Truth most brightly doth display
Its beams in this Dark night and Such I'le name.
Preceptive truth these darksom dayes do shame.
Prophetick Truth most brightly doth display
Its beams in this Dark night and Such I'le name.
| A Metrical History of Christianity | |