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

He , that of thornes would gather roses, may
In his own heart, if handled the right way.
Hearts hedged with Christs Crowne of thornes, in stead
Of thorny cares, will sweetest roses breed.

Ode. 45.

1

A crowne of thornes! I thought so: ten to one,
A crowne without a thorne there's none:
There's none on earth I meane, what shall I then
Rejoyce to see him crown'd by men,
By whom Kings rule, and reigne? Or shall I scorne,
And hate, to see earths curse, a thorne,
Prepost'rously preferr'd to crowne those browes,
From whence all blisse, and glory flowes?
Or shall I both be clad,
And also sad,
To think it is a crowne, and yet so bad?

2

There's cause enough of both, I must confesse:
Yet, what's that unto me, unlesse
I take a course his crowne of thornes may be
Made mine, transferr'd from him to me?
Crownes had they been of starres could adde no more
Glory, where there was all before,
And thornes might scratch him, could not make him worse,

182

Then he was made sinne, and a curse.
Come then, mine heart, take downe
Thy Saviours Crowne
Of thornes, and see if thou canst make't thine owne.

3

Remember first, thy Saviours head was crown'd
By the same hands that did him wound:
They meant it not to honour, but to scorne him,
When in such sort they did bethorne him.
Think earthly honours such, if they redound
Not to his glory, th' are not sound.
Never beleeve they minde to dignifie
Thee, that thy Christ would crucifie.
Think ev'ry crowne a thorne,
Unlesse 't adorne
Thy Christ, as well as him, by whom 't is worne.

4

Consider then that, as the thorny crowne
Circled thy Saviours head, thine owne
Continuall care to please him, and provide
For the advantage of his side,
Must fence thine actions, and affections so,
That they shall neither dare to goe
Out of that compasse, nor vouchsafe accesse
To what might make that care goe lesse.
Let no such thing draw nigh,
Which shall not spie
Thornes ready plac'd to prick it till it die.

5

Thus, compass'd with thy Saviours thorny Crowne,
Thou mai'st securely sit thee downe,
And hope that he, who made of water wine,
Will turne each Thorne unto a Vine,
Were thou mai'st gather grapes, and to delight thee

183

Roses: nor need the prickles fright thee.
Thy Saviours sacred temples tooke away
The curse, that in their sharpnesse lay.
So thou mai'st crowned be,
As well as he,
And at the last light in his light shalt see.

University of Virginia Library

The hedging of the Heart.

Epigr. 45.

Ode. 45.

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