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 Dream. |
 | Prison-Pietie |  |
The Dream.
Methinks I hear Six voices cry aloud!The first of Dying man's, by sickness bow'd;
That of the Damned is the second voice;
Thirdly my Soul with an affrighted noise;
The fourth is Christ's with sweet inviting chimes;
The fifth's the charming voice of Evil times;
The sixth a voice that doth the Sense allay,
A dreadful Summons to the Judgment-day.
The Dying man, methinks, doth make his moan,
Breathing out sighs, and with each sigh a groan:
Oh, loose no time, call every minute o're,
A minute's pretious; man's whole life's no more.
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My days on Earth unto a period grow.
The Damned cry and roar: O see the end
And sad effects of sin! sorrows attend
The wicked man. I now discern my Crime,
And feel the punishment of loss of time;
And then I hear my Soul expostulate,
Oh, thou my body, frail, of wretched state,
Why should I play the fool to please thy Lust,
When all my Kindnesses are writ in dust?
Nay, in ungrateful dust, that doth repay
A Pearl, only besmearing it with clay.
Thou but a moment art of time; but I
Must last for ever, to Eternity.
When thou with Rottenness art whelm'd about,
Where shall I be? 'Tis fit I should get out
Betimes from such an Earthy house as thine,
And, as a Star, in Heaven's mansion shine.
Angels are my Companions there: dost think,
To pleasure thee, I'll to Perdition sink?
Is it not better, prethee Mortal tell,
To Heaven we go, than thou bear me to Hell?
And then methinks sweet Jesus is at hand
With invitations thus: Behold, I stand
Here at the door, and knock; I weep, I sue
Until my head is covered o're with dew:
I wait and beg to lead thee to Delight,
My locks being filled with the dew of night.
My tears, my groans, my crying blood doth knock;
Open to me, thou heart, if not a Rock.
With patience I beseech, let sin no more
A lodging have, and Christ wait at the door.
Let not Damnation gull thee with deceit,
Whilst thy Salvation doth intreat and wait.
Then evil times methinks do thus invite:
Oh, now consider, walk as in the light;
Let all your Vertues be adorn'd with Rays;
Be living Christians, these are dying days:
Be growing Christians, lay aside vain Crimes;
Walk stedfastly in these back-sliding times.
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Leave Devil, World, and Flesh, make Christ thine own.
Then the Archangels voice at last I hear,
Summoning all the Dead forthwith appear
Before the Judgment-seat, crying, Arise,
Come forth, ye blessed Saints, open your eyes;
With God and Angels each one take his place,
To judge the World, and try the sinners Case:
Arise, ye cursed naked Souls, and take
Your standing before God and Angels; quake
At the Tribunal great, from whence shall come
Your fearful, final, and your fatal Doom.
Lord, the first voices let me hear with fear,
That the last voice I may not fear to hear.
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