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300. On Consolation.

1

Christ is call'd the consolation
Of his people Israel,
He that hath him hath Salvation,
And shall ever with him dwell;
By his Beams the Saints shall shine,
And be as he is, Divine.

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2

Christless souls are comfortless,
Woful is their misery,
How can such as these possess
Comfort, when they come to die,
They're in debt, no surety have,
Sick, no Physitian to save.

3

All our comforts here below
Are but weak, but such are strong
Which do from the Spirit flow,
And to Saints alone belong.
Those are feculent, these pure;
Those decay, but these endure.