Fruits of Retirement Or, Miscellaneous Poems, Moral and Divine. Being Some Contemplations, Letters, &c. Written on a Variety of Subjects and Occasions. By Mary Mollineux ... To which is Prefixed, Some Account of the Author |
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The Retreat, a Meditation.
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The Retreat, a Meditation.
Thou only Solace of a Panting Soul,Let not Earth's interposing Mists controul
The earnest Breathing of my Heart, and vail
Thy Beauty over-long, lest Doubts prevail:
Yet gently teach me always to submit
To what Chastizement thou, my Lord, think'st fit;
That a more intimate Acquaintance may
With thee be known, and thy Eternal Day
Shine forth, as when the Moon's Light must become,
As the bright Quick'ning Lustre of the Sun;
And so the Splendor of the Sun increase
As the united Light of Seven Days.
Ah then, what cause of Stumbling can there be
To the Redeemed Souls, that follow thee,
In true Unfeigned Love! Thou only art
Worthy to have sole Interest in the Heart:
'Tis thou alone, who dost our Foes subdue,
And, with kind Invitations, long pursue
Rebellious Souls, too apt to turn aside,
Or to forget thy kindness, if thou hide
Thy Face a little; or like Israel,
When Moses tarry'd in the Mount, rebel:
For, ah, distrusting Thoughts do presently
Object the sad Impossibility
Of finding thee again, whereby we might
Be overwhelmed in Egyptian Night;
And with our borrow'd Jewels, form and make
A Golden Calf, and wretchedly forsake,
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If Moses for a season should withdraw;
VVilling and running to our own Destruction,
When we should wait on thee to gain Instruction.
Ah, let thy tender Care preserve and keep
Us, with an Eye that is not apt to sleep,
But always guards thy little Heritage,
From all their Adversaries, in this Age,
As formerly; though the Unfaithful are
Often Surpriz'd, and cast into a Snare:
Bnt tho' thou try'st thy true Depending Ones,
Thou still protect'st them as Beloved Sons.
Ah! prove me, but support me; my Desire
Is, with resigned Will, to pass the Fire
Of Trials and Afflictions, till thereby
I be refin'd from all Impurity.
For those whom thou hast throughly purify'd,
And in the Furnace of Afflictions try'd,
Thou bear'st up in the Arms of thy Salvation,
And suckles at the Breast of Consolation,
That they may speak thy Praise, and run the Way
Of Life and Peace, in thy Eternal Day.
1678.
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