Schola Cordis or the Heart of it Selfe, gone away from God ::

Mine heart's an house, my light, and thou canst tell
There's roome enough O let thy Spirit dwell
For ever there that thou mai'st love me,
And being lov'd I may againe love thee.

Ode. 34.

1

Welcome, great guest, this house, mine heart,
Shall all be thine:
I will resigne
Mine interest in ev'ry part:
Only be pleas'd to use it as thine own
For ever, and inhabite it alone:
There's roome enough, and if the furniture
Were answerably fitted, I am sure
Thou would'st be well content to stay,
And by thy light
Possesse my sight
With sense of an eternall day.

2

It is thy building, Lord, 'twas made
At thy command,
And still doth stand
Upheld, and shelter'd by the shade

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Of thy protecting providence: though such
As is decaied, and impaired much,
Since the removall of thy residence,
When with thy grace glory departed hence,
It hath been all this while an Inne
To intertaine
The vile, and vaine,
And wicked companies of sinne.

3

Although't be but an house of clay,
Fram'd out of dust,
And such as must
Dissolved be, yet it was gay,
And glorious indeed, when ev'ry place
Was furnished, and fitted with thy grace:
When in the Presence-chamber of my mind,
The bright Sun-beames of perfect knowledge shin'd:
When my will was thy Bed-chamber,
And ev'ry pow'r
A stately Tow'r
Sweetned with thy Spirits amber.

4

But whilst thou do'st thy self absent,
It is not grown
Noysome alone,
But all to pieces torne, and rent.
The windowes all are stopt, or broken so,
That no light without wind can thorow goe.
The roofe's uncover'd, and the wall's decai'd,
The door's flung off the hooks, the floor's unlai'd,
Yea, the foundation rotten is,
And every where
It doth appeare
All that remaines is farre amisse,

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5

But if thou wilt returne againe,
And dwell in me,
Lord, thou shalt see
What care I'll take to intertaine
Thee, though not like thy self, yet in such sort,
As thou wilt like, and I shall thank thee for't.
Lord, let thy blessed Spirit keep possession,
And all things will be well; at least confession
Shall tell thee what's amisse in me,
And then thou shalt
Or mend the fault,
Or take the blame of all on thee.

University of Virginia Library

The inhabiting of the Heart.

Epig. 34.

Ode. 34.

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