University of Virginia Library

William Tompson Lo my ionah slumpt Anagr 2

For lo! my ionah how he slumpt,
In seas and whale so deep,
Becaus the lords Comandement
He did refuse to keep.
And i oft did, and do, Confess
That i no less deserued,
As haueing from the duties of
My Calling no less swerued.
No maruell then that j was cast
Into the sea & whale,
And that such horrid, hellish darts
Against me did preuail.
But ionah in those wofull depths
Did pray unto his god,
And so haue I done, often times,
Under his heauie rod.
How peuish & peruers was he,
But not so much as I,
That haue Contested with the lord
& stood out, stood out stubornly.
Yet, o dear brethren that suruiue,
Do not acount me lost,
Whome Christ redemed by his blood,
And at so great a Cost,
Throw price where of, as ionah did
A pardon full obtain,
So do i now: in Christ his lap
My soul doth now remain.
With ionah now Ime Cast ashore;
The whale Could not me keep;
But in my sauiour iesus Christ,
I swetly fell asleep.
If paul & ionah will not serue
To satisfie your mind,
Concider job, & be not like
To his unfriendly friends.
Becaus he was in satans hand
So long in deep distress,
They iudged him an hipocrite,
And sum think me no less.
But iob was job from first to last,
Highly by god approued,
By whome his most Censorious friends
Most sharply wear reproued.
As iob was gold, when at the first,
God Cast him in the fire,
So forth he came as gold most pure,
E'uen as you would desire;
And in his sore temptation,
Once & againe he spake
As if the man of patients
Were weary of his yoake;
Yet well we know how god made his
Captiuitye return,
And doubly he did recompenc
What long did make him mourn.
O, what a blessed end did god
For his pore seruant make,
And of pore me, not less but more
Compassion did he take;
For now, amongst his angels all
& saints, in heauen j sing
With solemn hallalugies to
My reconciled king.
Concider Asaph with heman,
Good jerymy & Dauid,
How deep and long theire Terrours were,
Yet they wear surely sauid.
Concider Mary Magdelen,
With seuen foul fiends posest,
What wear her moanes, her syghs & tears:
Yet found she happie rest,
Concider, hard by Christ his Cross,
The miserable thiefe:
But who had from his mouth & hand
A more Compleat releif?
Yea, pray, Concider Christ himself,
The prince of our saluation:
Was euer soul or body in
So great a tribulation?
Of men, yea, & of god him self,
O how was he forsaken!
Yet from his hellish Torments all,
At last to heauen up taken
To highest glory; twas in him
That I did put my trust,
And in his righteousnes i stood
Before my father just,
When at the lowest ebb; and now
My soul with him doth rest,
Of joys & Consolations
Unspeakably posest.