University of Virginia Library

A Sabbath-Days Thoughts UPON THE Love of Jesus.

With heavenly Eloquence, Lord, fill my Soul,
O fire my dead Heart with an Altar Coal:
Not from Parnassus, but from Zion's Hill
Let sacred Streams into my Heart distill.
Inspire my Heart with strong Seraphick Verse,
A Saviour's melting Mercies to rehearse;
I'll sing mysterious Love to all the Universe.
O bounteous Heaven, thy Mercy I adore,
Thou Blessings gives till I can ask no more;
Blessings, which I cou'd never thought upon,
The Rich, the Royal Gift, thy only Son.
Before thy Power and Wisdom was display'd,
In this bright Fabrick which thy Hands have made,
Whilst th'Elements did in dark Chaos sleep,
Ere yet thy Spirit brooded o'er the Deep,
Or shining Angels took their Seats above,
Thy blessful Bosom Glory hatch'd and Love;
Thy sempeternal Love was fixt on Man,
Ere he a Being got, or Time began:
Th'eternal Counsel had decreed his Peace,
For thy Delight was with the unborn Race.
Six Days the new born World had seen the Sun,
When God review'd the wondrous Works he'd done;
The young Creation he beheld with Joy,
But Man was wanting yet, the great Vice-Roy:
God gives him Being, and imperial Sway,
He stamps his Image on the living Clay;
To Man an high Immortal Soul is given,
Capable of Intelligence with Heaven.
In Eden's Courts, th'Almighty's depute King
In Honour and in Innocence did reign;
The Vassal Brutes with Acclamations meet
Their Monarch, and pay Homage at his Feet:
Freely commanded all his Eyes did see,
Except a single Sacramental Tree.
Touch not its Fruit, you dy if this you do,
Was the Reddendo of th'Almighty's Feu:
But Heaven's Friend and Favorite did rebel,
From Grandeur, and from sweet Communion fell,
Sunk with his Sin and Guilt, became an Heir of Hell.
'Mongst Bushes sneakes, to hide his blushing Face,
At once he forfeit Paradise and Grace,
Destroy'd himself and all his unborn Race.
Expell'd th'Elysium he enjoy'd before,
Whilst armed Cherubims defend the Door,
Poor fall'n Adam must return no more.
He from delicious Arbors posts away,
Where Summer dwells, and every Month is May:
No more God's blooming Garden doth he tread,
Flowers hang their withered Heads, their Master's fled
The Morning Lark awakes with piteous Moan,
The lovely Empire's sunk, her Monarch's gone;
And th'Evening Philomel laments the vacant Throne.
With mournful Ditties, sing's the drooping Thrush,
And tragick Threnes are heard from every Bush;
Complaining Notes tell all the Quire's oppress'd,
Thy solemn Dirgies sing with throbing Breast.
The Nightinagle forgets to build her Nest,
With melancholy Murmurs Rivers flow,
They chide their Banks, and pebbles as they go.
Waves roll with double Force, and haste away,
To bury Grief and Sorrow in the Sea.
Fair Eva visites not the chrystal Brook,
The chrystal Glass no more returns her Look.
The watery Mirrour shews no more her Face,
Like Angels, full of Majesty and Grace;
Ah, Now its stain'd with Sin and black with deep Disgrace.
Winds whistle thro' the leaves their angry Breath;
All Nature's pregnant with the Signs of Wrath.
No more the simples Smile; the myrtle Shade,
Where the dear happy Lovers took their Bed,
Seems now alone for sighing Sinners made.
The fatal Fruit hath pull'd the Monarch down,
Satan triumphs for Adam's lost the Crown;
He cannot look to God, nor bear his angry Frown.
Ah, must he dy! Can no Relief be found?
Yes, Mercy comes to heal the bleeding Wound;
Free Grace and Love ope' up a glorious Scene,
God's reconcil'd, and Man's restor'd again.
Adam is Victor, Satan quits the Field,
Lo there's a Promise, made, a Christ reveald;
From all Eternity it was decreed,
Th'Elect's be saved by the Woman's Seed,
A Saviour shall be born to bruise the Serpents Head.
Mary's Conception in appointed Time,
Fully atone for Mother Eva's Crime:
The flaming Sword, which Seraphs did command,
Shines in a glorious Mediator's Hand:
Th'Angel of the Cov'nant saves from Sin,
Opens Heavens Gates, and leads Believers in.
Exulting Prophets spread the News abroad,
And legal Pomp proclaims th'approaching God:
Isaiah's Voice transports the list'ning Throng,
His hallowed Lips pour forth the Gospel Song.
“From your low Posture and obscure retreat
“Arise and shine, and feel the welcome Heat;
“No more ly folded in the Arms of Night,
“Lo your Horizon's cloth'd with Beams of Light.
“No Torch we need t'illuminate the Way,
“The rising Sun doth chase the Shades away;
“We'll bask in Beams of Light and bless the joyful Day.
“O yes, o yes, on this transparent Morn,
“A Virgin shall bring forth, Immanuel shall be born:
Thus spoke Messiah's Harbenger of old,
Who with divine Impulse the Olive-Age fortold;
So gilds the rising Morn, the wide Expanse,
Ere Sol in golden Chariot doth advance;
To invite the drousie World from Orpheus's Chains,
Awakes the Earth to view the opening Scenes.
The Jessian Babe's fortold in every Age,
Old Testament Bards, who shook with sacred Rage,
Record th'auspicious Birth; the God's in every Page.
The Prophets Breasts were pain'd with holy Flame
Till they reveal his Power, and sing his glorious Name:
A glader Voice is heard, when they are dead,
The Evangelick Prophet doth succeed.
On barren Heaths the Preacher doth appear,
In rustick Weed, a Web of Camels Hair,
Who's venerable Figure doth exhort,
To hate the gaudy Fin'ry of a Court.
Plain like his Looks and Sermons he is dress'd,
A leathern Girdle wrapt around his Waste:
The reverend Fawn, in Life and Looks austere,
No Carnival e'er knew his Diet spare.
No Pickles did fresh Appetite provoke,
He Locusts eat, and Honey from the Rock;
His pious Life was one continued Lent,
The Sum of all his Eloquence, repent.
Malachy's divine Prophesies made clear,
A loud melodious Voice proclaims a Saviour near:
“Prepare, prepare to meet the coming God,
“Level each rugged Passage of his Road.
“Welcome the Son of God from's Throne above,
“Meet him upon his Embassy of Love:
“With joyful Hearts a filial Homage pay,
“Make straight the crooked Paths, prepare a Saviour's Way.