Schola Cordis or the Heart of it Selfe, gone away from God ::

Thine heart, my deer, more precious is then gold,
Or the most precious things that can be told:
Provided first that my pure fire have tri'd
Out all the drosse, and passe it purifi'd.

Ode. 21.

1

What? take it at adventure, and not try
What metall it is made of? No, not I.
Should I now lightly let it passe,
Take sullen lead for silver, sounding brasse
In stead of solid gold, alas,
What would become of it? In the great day
Of making jewells 't would be cast away.

2

The heart thou giv'st me must be such a one,
As is the same throughout. I will have none
But that, which will abide the fire.
'Tis not a glitt'ring outside I desire,
Whose seeming shewes doe soone expire:
But reall worth within, which neither drosse,
Nor base allayes, make subject unto losse.

3

If in the composition of thine heart

A stubborne steely wilfulnesse have part,
That will not bow and bend to me,
Save onely in a meer formality
Of tinsell-trim'd hypocrisie,
I care not for it, though it shew as faire,
As the first blush of the Sun-gilded aire.

4

The heart that in my furnace will not melt,
When it the glowing heat thereof hath felt
Turne liquid, and dissolve in teares
Of true repentance for its faults, that heares
My threatning voyce, and never feares,
Is not an heart worth having. If it be
An heart of stone, 't is not an heart for me.

5

The heart, that cast into my fornace spits,
And sparkles in my face, falls into fits
Of discontented grudging, whines
When it is broken of its will, repines
At the least suffering, declines
My fatherly correction, is an heart
On which I care not to bestow mine art.

6

The heart that in my flames asunder flies,
Scatters it selfe at randon, and so lies
In heapes of ashes here, and there,
Whose dry dispersed parts will not draw neer
To one another, and adhere
In a firme union, hath no metall in't
Fit to be stamp'd, and coyned in my mint.

7

The heart, that vapours out it selfe in smoak,
And with those cloudy shadowes thinks to cloak

Its empty nakednesse, how much
So ever thou esteemest it, is such
As never will endure my touch
Before I tak't for mine then I will trie
What kind of metall in thine heart doth lie.

8

I'll bring it to my furnace, and there see
What it will prove, what it is like to be.
If it be gold, it will be sure
The hottest fire that can be to endure,
And I shall draw it out more pure.
Affliction may refine, but cannot wast,
That heart wherein my love is fixed fast.

University of Virginia Library

The trying of the Heart.

Epigr. 21.

Ode. 21.

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