University of Virginia Library

Money answers every thing,
But a Guilty Conscience Sting,
Whose Immortal Torments are
Quite Insupportable to bear,
Nor the Silver of Peru,
Nor the Wealth the East do shew,
Nor the softest Bed of Down,
Nor the Jewels of a Crown,
Can give unto the Mind a Power,
To bear its Twinges half an Hour.
When GOD's Iron Justice once
Seiseth on the Conscience,
And in fearful ample wise
Lays before the Sinners Eyes,
His Lifes Horrible Transgressions,
In their dreadful Aggravations;
And then for his greater aw,
In most ample forms doth draw
All the Curses of his Law;
Then the Worm begins to gnaw,
And altho' it every hour
Doth the very Soul Devour,
Yet it nothing doth Sussice;
Oh! this Worm that never Dies.
Oh! the Multitude of thought
Into which the Sinner's brought;
Looking up he sees GOD's Power
Through his Angry Face doth Lour;
And hath for his ruin Join'd
Ten Thousand Chariots in the Wind:
All prepar'd to Glorify,
The Strong Arm of the most high.
By Inflicting Punishments
Equal to his Vengeance.
Looking Down he amply seeth
Hell rowling in her Flames beneath;
Enlarg'd to take his Soul into
Its deep Caverns full of Wo:
Now the Sinners Apprehension
Stretcheth Large as Hells Dimensions,
And doth Comprehensively
Fathom out Eternity.
The most extream and Vexing Sense
Seiseth on the Conscience.
Fill'd with deepest Agony,
He maketh this Soliloquy.
View those Torments most extream
See this torrid Liquid Stream
In the which my Soul must fry
Ever, and yet never Dy.
When a Thousand Years are gone
There's ten Thousand coming on:
And when these are over worn,
There's a Million to be born,
Yet they are not Comprehended,
For they Never shall be Ended.

Now Despair by Representing,
Eternity fill'd with Tormenting,
By Anticipation brings
All Eternal Sufferings,
Every Moment up at once
Into actual Sufferance,
Thus those Pains that are to come,
Ten Thousand Ages further down;
Every Moment must be born
Whilest Eternity is worn
Every Moment that doth come,
Such Torments brings; as if the sum
Of all God's anger now were pressing,
For all in which I liv'd transgressing.
Yet the next succeeding Hour,
Holdeth forth his Equal power;
And succeeding with it brings,
Up the sum of Sufferings.
Yet they are not Comprehended,
For they never shall be Ended.

For GOD Himself He is but One,
Without least Variation:
Just what He was; is, is to come
Always entirely the same.
Possessing his Eternity
Without succession instantly,
With whom the like proportion bears,
One Day as doth a Thousand Years.
He makes the Prison and the Chain,
He is the Author of my pain.
'Twas unto Him I made Offence;
'Tis He that takes the Recompence.
'Tis His design my Misery
Himself alone shall Glorify;
Therefore must some proportion bear
With Him, whose Glory they declare.
And so they shall, being Day and Night,
Unchangeable and Infinite.

These very Meditations are,
Quite Insupportable to bear:
The fire within my Conscience,
Is Grown so fervent and intense,
I cannot long its force endure,
But rather shall my End procure.
Griefly Death's pale Image lies,
On my Ghastly piercing Eyes.
My hands made for my lifes defence,
Are ready to do violence
Unto my life: And send me hence,
Unto that awful residence.
There to be fill'd with that Despair,
Of which the Incipiations are,
A Wounded Spirit none can bear.

But, Oh! My Soul, think once again,
That there is for this burning Pain,
One only Medicine Soveraign.
CHRIST's Blood will fetch out all this Fire,
If that God's SPIRIT be the Applyer.
Oh! Then my Soul when Grief abounds,
Shroud thy self within these Wounds:
And that thou there may'st be Secure,
Be Purified as He is Pure.

And, Oh! my GOD, let me behold thy SON,
Impurpled in his Crucifixion,
With such an eye of Faith that may from thence
Derive from Him a Gracious Influence,
To cure my Sin and Wounded Conscience.
There, there alone is Healing to be had:
Oh! Let me have that Balm of Gilead.