 | Cotton Mather's verse in English |  |
109
4. Part Four: Agricola Verse
111
Singing at the PLOW.
My Heart, how very Hard its grown!Thicken'd and stiffen'd Clay:
Daily trod by the Wicked One;
Of Sin the Beaten Way.
An Heart, wherein compacted Weeds
Of Diverse Lusts abound;
No Entrance for the Heavenly Seeds,
Falling on such a Ground!
O my Almighty SAVIOUR, come;
Thy Word's a wondrous Plow:
And let thy SPIRIT drive it home;
This Heart, Oh! Break it so!
Lord, let my Broken Heart receive
Thy Truth with Faith and Love:
May it a Just Reception give
To what falls from Above.
Will my GOD Plow upon a Rock!
Change thou the Soyl, my Lord!
My Heart once by thy Plow-share broke,
Will Entertain thy Word.
The SOWER a Singer.
Give me thy Heart, My SAVIOUR says:
'Tis what I strive to do.
It's Barren: Change it, Lord, by Grace,
A Fruitful Soyl into.
'Tis what I strive to do.
It's Barren: Change it, Lord, by Grace,
A Fruitful Soyl into.
[1.]
When the Seed of thy Word is castOn such a Beaten Road;
Let not the Fruit of all be lost,
Nor under Foot be trod.
May't be no Unattentive Heart,
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Let not Hell's Harpyes do their part
To rob me of them all.
[2.]
Oh, Do not leave my Heart to beAn Unaffected Stone,
Where Heavens Eye no Fruit will see,
But what will soon be gone.
Let there be found of PIETY
In me a Root so deep,
As from a vile Apostacy
Will me for ever keep.
[3.]
Lord, Let not worldly Lusts and CaresThy Work in me annoy;
Cloak all good Fruit; and prove the snares
That shall my Soul destroy.
Ye Cursed Thorns I deprecate
All your Entanglements.
My SAVIOUR, Let not these defeat
Thy Gospels kind Intents.
[4.]
O Glorious CHRIST of GOD, from whomDoes all my Fruit proceed;
Let thy sweet Influences come,
And quicken Thou the Seed.
With Fruits make me a Blessed Field;
More precious Things than Gold;
With Fruits of thy Good SPIRIT fill'd,
More than an Hundred fold.
The RAIN gasped for.
O Father of the Rain, Look down
Upon us from on high;
If thy Land be not Rain'd upon,
What Lives on it will Dy.
Upon us from on high;
If thy Land be not Rain'd upon,
What Lives on it will Dy.
Lord of the Clouds; In thee we hope;
Thine all the Bottels are;
Except Thou open them, a Drop
won't fall upon us here.
Thine all the Bottels are;
Except Thou open them, a Drop
won't fall upon us here.
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If thou make Heav'n as Brass, and burn
From thence the groaning Field,
Thy Earth will soon to Iron turn,
And no Production yield.
From thence the groaning Field,
Thy Earth will soon to Iron turn,
And no Production yield.
O Let thy Seasonable Rain
Drop Fatness on our Soyl;
And grant to most unworthy Man
The Harvest of his Toil.
Drop Fatness on our Soyl;
And grant to most unworthy Man
The Harvest of his Toil.
But, O my SAVIOUR, in a Showre
Of Righteousness descend:
Gifts on me, with they SPIRIT poure;
And Life that cannot End.
Of Righteousness descend:
Gifts on me, with they SPIRIT poure;
And Life that cannot End.
Yea, come upon a World forlorn,
And with a Quickening Dew,
Make thou Mankind, of Water born,
Tho' Dead, their Life Renew.
And with a Quickening Dew,
Make thou Mankind, of Water born,
Tho' Dead, their Life Renew.
In the mean time, thy Ministers,
As Clouds, how Fat and Bright!
May they upon Salvations Heirs
Distil Things Good and Right.
As Clouds, how Fat and Bright!
May they upon Salvations Heirs
Distil Things Good and Right.
The Song of the SITHE.
O My Long-suffering Lord, I own,
And thy rich Patience praise;
The Mower, he has not cut me down;
I stand; O wondrous Grace!
And thy rich Patience praise;
The Mower, he has not cut me down;
I stand; O wondrous Grace!
I wait, O of my Life the GOD!
I'm waiting for the Stroke.
I see the Mower: He's on the Road;
Soon, soon, I'am overtook!
I'm waiting for the Stroke.
I see the Mower: He's on the Road;
Soon, soon, I'am overtook!
O that I were in Safety got;
That what I can't Evade
I may with Comfort meet, and not
Be of the Sithe afraid.
That what I can't Evade
I may with Comfort meet, and not
Be of the Sithe afraid.
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I do with a Repenting Heart
To thee, my GOD, Return;
From all my Idols I depart,
And for my Follies mourn.
To thee, my GOD, Return;
From all my Idols I depart,
And for my Follies mourn.
To Thee, my SAVIOUR, I Resign,
All that belongs to me;
Willing to be entirely Thine,
And Heal'd and Rul'd by Thee.
All that belongs to me;
Willing to be entirely Thine,
And Heal'd and Rul'd by Thee.
By Thee to be Redeem'd, and made
Righteous and Holy too;
And by thy Counsil to be led,
Thy endless Glory to.
Righteous and Holy too;
And by thy Counsil to be led,
Thy endless Glory to.
Now, Welcome Sithe; Come, Do thy worst;
Strike; Thou canst do no more,
But fit me to be Lodg'd, I trust,
In my GOD's Blessed Floor.
Strike; Thou canst do no more,
But fit me to be Lodg'd, I trust,
In my GOD's Blessed Floor.
The Sons of GOD, Singing among The Trees of GOD; Full of Sap, and of Songs before Him.
A Barren Tree! O, Why, My Lord,
This Cumberer of the Ground;
Why has it not yet heard the Word,
The Just Word, Cut it down!
This Cumberer of the Ground;
Why has it not yet heard the Word,
The Just Word, Cut it down!
'Tis owing, O my SAVIOUR, to
thy Intercession still,
That I am sav'd and standing so,
And not thrown down to Hell.
thy Intercession still,
That I am sav'd and standing so,
And not thrown down to Hell.
But from this Time, Oh, let me be
A Tree of Righteousness:
Fill'd with the Fruits of it; A Tree
Which thou wilt own and Bless.
A Tree of Righteousness:
Fill'd with the Fruits of it; A Tree
Which thou wilt own and Bless.
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A Tree planted and prun'd by GOD;
Fix'd by His Water-side:
The Fruits thereof Rich, Sweet, and Good;
And Thou thence Glorified.
Fix'd by His Water-side:
The Fruits thereof Rich, Sweet, and Good;
And Thou thence Glorified.
From the Forbidden Tree I am,
How Poison'd and Undone!
From thence, how dismal Mischiefs came,
And Deaths, in which I groan!
How Poison'd and Undone!
From thence, how dismal Mischiefs came,
And Deaths, in which I groan!
But, O my SAVIOUR, By thy Death
Upon a Tree, thou art
The Tree of Life, to which my Faith
Flies with a Joyful Heart.
Upon a Tree, thou art
The Tree of Life, to which my Faith
Flies with a Joyful Heart.
On Thee, O Tree of Life, I must
Rejoicing Feed and Live;
Thou'lt me, when fell'd and laid in Dust,
A Resurrection give.
Rejoicing Feed and Live;
Thou'lt me, when fell'd and laid in Dust,
A Resurrection give.
Yea, When below to Mortal Eyes
I must no more appear,
Transplanted to thy Paradise,
I shall still flourish there.
I must no more appear,
Transplanted to thy Paradise,
I shall still flourish there.
The Songs of HARVEST.
Tis not the Till'd, Poor, Lifeless Earth
Which gives me all my Store.
No: Tis my GOD! From Him comes forth
All that has fill'd my Floor.
Which gives me all my Store.
No: Tis my GOD! From Him comes forth
All that has fill'd my Floor.
For what I've gather'd from the Field
Thee, Oh! my GOD I bless.
But, Oh! that I Fruits too may yield
To Him who me does dress!
Thee, Oh! my GOD I bless.
But, Oh! that I Fruits too may yield
To Him who me does dress!
My Soul, with Gladness fill'd, and Food;
Returns, what shall be made?
In this Abundance serve thy GOD,
In HIM for ever glad.
Returns, what shall be made?
In this Abundance serve thy GOD,
In HIM for ever glad.
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Now in Obedience all my Days
Hard at my Work I'll keep;
Him I'l take pains to please and praise;
Assur'd That I shall Reap.
Hard at my Work I'll keep;
Him I'l take pains to please and praise;
Assur'd That I shall Reap.
Yea, If I must thro' Sorrows go,
And Weeping Eyes employ;
I'm sure, That they in Tears who Sow
At length shall Reap with Joy.
And Weeping Eyes employ;
I'm sure, That they in Tears who Sow
At length shall Reap with Joy.
But, Oh, What shall I Reap anon!
What Eyes did ever see,
Or to what Man on Earth is known,
What will the Harvest be!
What Eyes did ever see,
Or to what Man on Earth is known,
What will the Harvest be!
My JESUS, My Rewarder Thou
Wilt be; and more than so:
Thou my Reward wilt be. And now
No Higher can I go.
Wilt be; and more than so:
Thou my Reward wilt be. And now
No Higher can I go.
| Cotton Mather's verse in English | |