Prison-Pietie or, Meditations Divine and Moral. Digested into Poetical Heads, On Mixt and Various Subjects. Whereunto is added A Panegyrick to The Right Reverend, and most Nobly descended, Henry, Lord Bishop of London. By Samuel Speed, Prisoner in Ludgate, London |
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The Divine Inquest. |
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The Divine Inquest.
Tell me, you bright Stars that shineRound about the Lambs high Throne,
How though bodies once like mine,
How you are thus glorious grown?
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This was all our happy skill;
We on Jesus fix'd our eye,
And his em'nent followers still.
As we clearly saw their mind
Set and rul'd, we order'd ours;
Both this state alone design'd,
Up towards this strain'd all our pow'rs.
Taught by Temp'rance, we abstain'd
From all less for greater goods;
Slighting little drops, we gain'd
Full, and sweet, and lasting floods.
Arm'd with Fortitude, we bare
Lesser evils, worse do flie;
Mortal Death we durst out-dare,
Rather than for ever die.
Justice we observ'd, by giving
Ev'ry one their utmost due,
That in peace and order living,
All might freely Heav'n pursue.
Prudence govern'd all the rest,
Prudence made us still apply
What was fittest, what was best
To advance great Charity.
On those golden wheels of Grace,
That Love's fiery Chariot bear,
We arriv'd at this bright place;
Follow us and never fear.
O sure Truth, O bless'd Attesters;
O that all the World may prove,
Of both these, such strong digesters,
That both these may feed their love.
Him who made us all for this,
Him who made himself our way,
Him who leads us unto Bliss,
May all praise, and all obey.
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