Emblemes (1635) and Hieroglyphikes (1638) [in the critical edition by John Horden] |
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 | Emblemes (1635) and Hieroglyphikes (1638) |  |
Draw me; we will follow after thee by the savour of thy Oyntment.
Thus, like a lump of the corrupted Masse,
I lie secure; long lost, before I was:
And like a Block, beneath whose burthen lies
That undiscover'd Worme that never dies,
I have no will to rouze; I have no pow'r to rise.
I lie secure; long lost, before I was:
And like a Block, beneath whose burthen lies
That undiscover'd Worme that never dies,
I have no will to rouze; I have no pow'r to rise.
Can stinking Lazarus compound, or strive
With deaths entangling Fetters, and revive?
Or can the water-buried Axe implore
A hand to raise it? or, it selfe, restore
And, from her sandy deepes, approach the dry-foot shore,
With deaths entangling Fetters, and revive?
Or can the water-buried Axe implore
A hand to raise it? or, it selfe, restore
And, from her sandy deepes, approach the dry-foot shore,
So hard's the task for sinfull flesh and Blood
To lend the smallest step to what is Good;
My God, I cannot move, the least degree;
Ah! If but onely those that active be
None should thy glory see, none should thy Glory see.
To lend the smallest step to what is Good;
My God, I cannot move, the least degree;
Ah! If but onely those that active be
None should thy glory see, none should thy Glory see.
But if the Potter please t'informe the Clay;
Or some strong hand remove the Block away;
Their lowly fortunes soone are mounted higher,
That proves a vessell, which, before, was myre;
And this, being hewne, may serve for better use than fire.
Or some strong hand remove the Block away;
Their lowly fortunes soone are mounted higher,
That proves a vessell, which, before, was myre;
And this, being hewne, may serve for better use than fire.
And if that life-restoring voice command
Dead Laz'rus forth; or that great Prophets hand
Should charme the sullen waters, and begin
To beckon, or to dart a Stick but in,
Dead Laz'rus must revive, and th'Axe must float agin.
Dead Laz'rus forth; or that great Prophets hand
Should charme the sullen waters, and begin
To beckon, or to dart a Stick but in,
Dead Laz'rus must revive, and th'Axe must float agin.
Lord, as I am, I have no pow'r at all
To heare thy voice, or Eccho to thy call;
The gloomy Clouds of mine owne Guilt benight me;
Thy glorious beames, nor dainty sweets invite me;
They neither can direct; nor these at all delight me.
To heare thy voice, or Eccho to thy call;
The gloomy Clouds of mine owne Guilt benight me;
Thy glorious beames, nor dainty sweets invite me;
They neither can direct; nor these at all delight me.
See how my Sin-bemangled body lies,
Nor having pow'r, to will; nor will, to rise!
Shine home upon thy Creature, and inspire
My livelesse will with thy regen'rate fire;
The first degree to do, is onely to desire.
Nor having pow'r, to will; nor will, to rise!
Shine home upon thy Creature, and inspire
My livelesse will with thy regen'rate fire;
The first degree to do, is onely to desire.
Give me the pow'r to will; the will, to doe;
O raise me up, and I will strive to go.
Draw me, O draw me with thy treble twist,
That have no pow'r but meerely to resist;
O lend me strength to do; and then command thy List.
O raise me up, and I will strive to go.
Draw me, O draw me with thy treble twist,
That have no pow'r but meerely to resist;
O lend me strength to do; and then command thy List.
My Soule's a Clock, whose wheeles (for want of use
And winding up, being subject to th'abuse
Of eating Rust) wants vigour to fulfill
Her twelve houres task, and show her makers skill;
But idly sleepes unmoov'd, and standeth vainly still.
And winding up, being subject to th'abuse
Of eating Rust) wants vigour to fulfill
Her twelve houres task, and show her makers skill;
But idly sleepes unmoov'd, and standeth vainly still.
Great God, it is thy work: and therefore, Good;
If thou be pleas'd to cleanse it with thy Blood;
And winde it up with thy soule-mooving kayes,
Her dusie wheeles shall serve thee all her dayes;
Her Hand shall point thy pow'r; her Hammer strike thy praise.
If thou be pleas'd to cleanse it with thy Blood;
And winde it up with thy soule-mooving kayes,
Her dusie wheeles shall serve thee all her dayes;
Her Hand shall point thy pow'r; her Hammer strike thy praise.
S. BERN. Serm. 21 in Cant.
Let us run: let us run, but in the savour of thy Oyntments, not in the confidence of our merits, nor in the greatnesse of our strength: we trust to run, but in the multitude of thy mercies, for though we run and are willing, it is not in him that wills, nor in him that runs, but in God that sheweth mercy: O let thy mercy returne, and we will run: Thou, like a Gyant, run'st by thy own power; We, unlesse thy oyntment breath upon us, cannot run.
| Emblemes (1635) and Hieroglyphikes (1638) | |