The Minor Poems of Joseph Beaumont ... Edited from the autograph manuscript with introduction and notes by Eloise Robinson |
Wednesday in ye Holy Week
|
The Minor Poems of Joseph Beaumont | ||
149
Wednesday in ye Holy Week
Who doubts how Avarice can be
Plaine & right-downe Idolatrie,
Neither thy Story, Judas, knows nor Thee.
He knows not how a little poore
Silver mov'd thy Devotion more
Then He, whom Men & Angells all adore.
Plaine & right-downe Idolatrie,
Neither thy Story, Judas, knows nor Thee.
He knows not how a little poore
Silver mov'd thy Devotion more
Then He, whom Men & Angells all adore.
JESUS the Crowne of Heavn & Earth,
From whom all Glory takes its birth,
To thy Idolatrous Heart seems little worth:
Worth lesse then is ye meanest Wight;
For Moses sure hath settled right
The price of Man in his Creators sight.
From whom all Glory takes its birth,
To thy Idolatrous Heart seems little worth:
Worth lesse then is ye meanest Wight;
For Moses sure hath settled right
The price of Man in his Creators sight.
God never priz'd a Man so low
As thirty silver Peeces, though
He were as wretched & as vile as Thou.
And yet canst Thou thy God & Lord
At a farr lower price afford
Then He has valued Thee at in his Word.
As thirty silver Peeces, though
He were as wretched & as vile as Thou.
And yet canst Thou thy God & Lord
At a farr lower price afford
Then He has valued Thee at in his Word.
And Chapmen Thou canst easily find
Resolv'd to traffique to thy minde
With ready money, & are all combinde,
Combinde to gaine this Prize; since they
Gods House to Trading did betray,
Him too among ye Wares account they may.
Resolv'd to traffique to thy minde
With ready money, & are all combinde,
Combinde to gaine this Prize; since they
Gods House to Trading did betray,
Him too among ye Wares account they may.
150
Unhappy Wretch, Thou dost to day
Not thy own God alone betray,
But thy despairing Selfe Thou sell'st away.
For JESUS still though sold so cheap,
Is worth a World: all his poor Sheep
Shall still from Him a full Redemption reap.
Not thy own God alone betray,
But thy despairing Selfe Thou sell'st away.
For JESUS still though sold so cheap,
Is worth a World: all his poor Sheep
Shall still from Him a full Redemption reap.
The Minor Poems of Joseph Beaumont | ||