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 | Miscellaneous works of George Wither |  |
Against this Hydra-headed Army stands
The Prince of Peace, with his victorious bands;
Not that this glorious Conquerour doth need
Created helpe, t'effect a noble deed;
For He Himselfe did long ago subdue
The Prince of darknesse, and th'infernall crew;
But to communicate He doth delight
To silly Mortals His owne matchlesse might,
Which so upon them daily He conferres,
That in the end th'are more than conquerers;
Yet none but slaves, and conquered by sinne
He makes His souldiers, and the field to winne,
After He first hath pull'd them from the jawes
Of death and hell, and given them new Lawes
And principles divine; then doth dispose
Them thus in order 'gainst His Churches Foes.
The Prince of Peace, with his victorious bands;
Not that this glorious Conquerour doth need
Created helpe, t'effect a noble deed;
For He Himselfe did long ago subdue
The Prince of darknesse, and th'infernall crew;
But to communicate He doth delight
To silly Mortals His owne matchlesse might,
Which so upon them daily He conferres,
That in the end th'are more than conquerers;
Yet none but slaves, and conquered by sinne
He makes His souldiers, and the field to winne,
After He first hath pull'd them from the jawes
Of death and hell, and given them new Lawes
And principles divine; then doth dispose
Them thus in order 'gainst His Churches Foes.
The Vant-guard doth consist of Saints, and brave
Heroick Martyrs, who despise the grave;
The true Professours of the Gospell next,
(With scoffing Chams and lying Doegs vext)
March in the Middleward; But O the Reare,
(That which most th'infernall force doth feare)
Consisteth of the Generalls owne merits,
Which succour sends unto the fainting spirits
Of all His souldiers, who else would be lost;
The wings on each side of this glorious Hoast,
Are stretched farre above all earthly things,
Spirituall graces making lively springs
Of hope and joy with promises so sure
Of heav'nly life for ever to endure.
The Officers to this High Generall,
Are brave Commanders, blessed Angels all,
Who at their Captaines becke like lightning move;
Th'word of command is this; I feare, and love.
Heroick Martyrs, who despise the grave;
The true Professours of the Gospell next,
(With scoffing Chams and lying Doegs vext)
March in the Middleward; But O the Reare,
(That which most th'infernall force doth feare)
Consisteth of the Generalls owne merits,
Which succour sends unto the fainting spirits
Of all His souldiers, who else would be lost;
The wings on each side of this glorious Hoast,
Are stretched farre above all earthly things,
Spirituall graces making lively springs
Of hope and joy with promises so sure
Of heav'nly life for ever to endure.
The Officers to this High Generall,
Are brave Commanders, blessed Angels all,
Who at their Captaines becke like lightning move;
Th'word of command is this; I feare, and love.
Thus stands the Christian arm'd against his Foes,
Giving, and sometimes taking many blowes,
And that not by imaginary force
But as really as did Foot and Horse
Neare Winchester of late, where soules apace
Fled to the frowning and the smiling face
Of this great Generall; For only He
Bindeth, and maketh men and Angels free.
And by His mighty power doth so keepe
His souldiers happy soules that fall asleepe
That stinging death shall never hurt them, why?
Because they dye to live eternally.
Giving, and sometimes taking many blowes,
And that not by imaginary force
But as really as did Foot and Horse
Neare Winchester of late, where soules apace
Fled to the frowning and the smiling face
Of this great Generall; For only He
Bindeth, and maketh men and Angels free.
And by His mighty power doth so keepe
His souldiers happy soules that fall asleepe
That stinging death shall never hurt them, why?
Because they dye to live eternally.
| Miscellaneous works of George Wither | |