Schola Cordis or the Heart of it Selfe, gone away from God brought back againe to him & instructed by him in 47 Emblems [by Christopher Harvey] |
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| 44. | The scourging of the Heart. |
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 | Schola Cordis or the Heart of it Selfe, gone away from God |  |
177
The scourging of the Heart.
A rod is for the backe of him that is void of understanding.
Prov. 10. 13.
Epigr. 44.
When thou withhold'st thy scourges, dearest love,My sluggish heart is slack, and slow to move.
Oh let it not stand still, but lash it rather,
And drive it, though unwilling, to thy Father.
Ode. 44.
1
What doe those scourges on that sacred flesh,Spotlesse and pure?
Must he, that doth sin-weari'd soules refresh,
Himself endure
Such tearing tortures? Must those sides be gash'd?
Those shoulders lash'd?
Is this the trimming that the world bestowes
Upon such robes of majestie as those?
2
Is't not enough to die, unlesse by paineThou antidate
Thy death before hand, Lord? What do'st thou meane
To aggravate
The guilt of sinne? or to enhance the price
Thy sacrifice
Amounts to? Both are infinite I know,
And can by no additions greater grow.
178
3
Yet dare I not imagine that in vaineThou did'st endure
One stripe: though not thine owne thereby, my gaine
Thou did'st procure,
That when I shall be scourged for thy sake,
Thy stripes may make
Mine acceptable, that I may not grutch,
When I remember thou hast borne as much.
4
As much, and more, for me. Come then mine heart,And willingly
Submit thy selfe to suffer: smile at smart
And death defie.
Feare not to feel that hand correcting thee,
Which set thee free.
Stripes as the tokens of his love he leaves,
Who scourgeth ev'ry sonne whom he receives.
5
There's foolishnesse bound up within thee fast:But yet the rod
Of fatherly correction at the last,
If blest by God,
Will drive it farre away, and wisdome give,
That thou maist live,
Not to thy self, but him, that first was slaine,
And died for thee, and then rose againe.
6
Thou art not onely dull, and slow of paceBut stubborne too,
And refractory, ready to outface,
Rather then doe,
Thy duty: though thou know'st it must be so,
179
The way thou should'st, till some affliction
First set thee right, then prick, and spurre thee on.
7
Top-like thy figure, and condition is,Neither to stand,
Nor stirre, thy self alone, whilst thou do'st misse
An helping hand
To set thee up, and store of stripes bestow
To make thee goe.
Begge then thy blessed Saviour to transferre
His scourges unto thee, to make thee stirre.
| Schola Cordis or the Heart of it Selfe, gone away from God | |