The Glorious Lover :: :: University of Virginia Library

Shewing how Theologue, the Prince's Spokesman, indeavour'd to obtain the love of this poor Creature for his blessed Master, by whom the aggravation of the Creatures sin and misery is layed open; the Soul is in debt ten thousand Talents, worse than nothing. Moreover, shewing how the Creature was guilty of high Treason against the Soveraign Lord Jehovah; is also Arraigned and condemned to be burned alive. A Dialogue or discourse between the Divine Attributes: Justice cryes for Execution, to have the fatal blow struck; Mercy steps in. Justice must be satisfied. Goodness and Mercy will not lose their Glory, being alike esteemed by God. Divine Wisdom

reconciles all the other Attributes, and makes them meet together in a sweet harmony: the Soul being condemned to die, the Prince sees no other way to obtain her for his own, but by satisfying Justice, and becoming Surety, and yielding himself up to die for her.

Theologue.
How is it Soul! art minded yet to leave
Thy Lusts, and Lovers, and to Jesus cleave?
Dost not perceive the sad state thou art in
By curs'd Apollyon, and his off-spring, SIN?
Wilt thou for evermore thy self destroy,
And not accept of Health? wilt not enjoy
One who in value doth all Worlds excel?
Wilt thou refuse in Paradise to dwell?
Dost see thy state, thy bloody state? oh speak!
My bleeding heart for thee doth greatly ake.

Soul.
You had my Answer plain enough before:
Forbear, I pray, and trouble me no more.
I do'nt believe what you have said is true;
Such pains I never felt, nor sickness knew:
But if my state were worse than yet I see,
I will not have you thus to trouble me.
I have all things which naturally delights me,
And from them you shall not deter, nor fright me;

You know the Proverb used in our Land,
Each Tub shall upon its own Bottom stand.

Theologue.

Soul, b' not so rash, be more considerate;
Ponder on things before it be too late.
Sith what I said before no good can do,
More of thy wretchedness I now will show;
And if that fails, then afterwards I'le leave thee,
And o're into the hands of Justice give thee.

First, from God's Word I have Authority
To lay before thee thy great poverty.
Thy Soveraign Lord most highly is distasted
For all the precious Treasure thou hast wasted.
First, of his Glory thou hast him bereav'd,
And to rebel against him been deceiv'd.
Next, thy whole self to him 'tis thou dost owe,
Yea all thou either art, hast, or canst do,
Which thou hast not regarded hitherto:
But to thy self, and not to him dost live,
Who did thy self at first unto thee give,
And from whom thou dost ev'ry thing receive.
Thy knowledg, judgment, and thy memory,
Th' excellent nature of each Faculty,
Should all have to, and for him, been laid out,
As being all his Goods; Soul! look about,
For time, for Health, and for the day of Grace;
Thou must be brought before the Judge's Face:
And for thy Riches, and all things thou hast,
Which thou Imbezel'st, and dost vainly wast,

A strict Account must at the Bar of Heaven
By thee in a short time be surely given.
Ten thousand Talents doth thy God demand;
Which thou canst neither pay, nor yet withstand
His dire proceedings, 'cause he is most Just,
And thou but sinful Ashes and vile Dust.
Thou wilt be seiz'd, and in a Prison laid,
Till the last Mite be satisfi'd and paid.
Canst thou, poor Soul! dost think quit the old score,
When thou contractst new debts still more & more?
Would not a Friend that's able to defray
All thy vast Debts, and a full Ransom pay
To thy just Creditor, most welcom be,
If such an one could be found out for thee?
But things yet worse, I fear, there are behind,
The truth of which most certainly thoul't find.

Hark, trembling Soul! thou to the Bar art cited,
And for high Treason there dost stand Indicted,
Committed by thee 'twas in antient time,
When thou didst dwell in Eden, in thy prime:
When thou hadst flourisht there but a short season,
Thou didst contract that guilt of horrid Treason
Against thy Soveraign, in whose Princely Eye
Was Grace and favour mixt with Majesty:
Gracious to pardon many great Offences,
And yet severe to punish Insolences.
But thou both Grace and Justice didst despise,
And in thy Heart didst evil things surmise
Against thy Soveraign Lord, and secretly
Join'st with his Foes in close Conspiracy.

'Twas with the King of Darkness thou didst close,
Obeyd'st his will, and didst thy God oppose.
A dreadful Sentence then against thee past,
Which ne're by humane Art could be reverst.
Thy Sentence was in Prison long to lie,
And for thy fact at last Condemn'd to die.
And Death on thee did seize the self-same time,
When thou commitst that high and fearful Crime;
The sad effects of it I this Day see,
Thou still ly'st dead in thine Iniquity.
Ah! I may preach untill my heart doth ake,
And it on thee will no Impression make.
Thou art depriv'd of Life and Light of God,
And long hast thou in this estate abode.
But a worse Death doth in thy Sentence lie,
(Though very few on it will cast an Eye)
Condemn'd to suffer everlasting pains,
And on thee then were fastned heavy Chains.
And though thy Execution be delay'd,
Yet 'tis by means of Jesus only stay'd.
His precious Grace preserves thee from that fire,
Whose torments once begun, shall ne'r expire.
That Soul-amazing Sentence who can bear
The thoughts of it, and not let fall a tear?
What Malefactors are Condemn'd to die,
But on the sense of Death's approaching nigh,
Contracts not horrour on their Souls thereby?
What then to suffer Death for evermore,
Where Torments ne're abate, nor will be o're?

To be a thousand tedious Ages Rackt,
Not Dead, yet always in the dying Act.
A fiery Furnace with a sevenfold heat
We read of, yet its flames were not so great,
But that they soon would languish and grow cold;
Whereas these Tortures, still increasing, hold.
If e're thou shouldst be cast into that place,
Before thou dost take hold of Love and Grace,
There's this will then thy sorrows aggravate,
None will thee pity in that wretched state.
Never was Malefactor in distress,
But met with pity either more or less;
And though it do not take away the grief,
Yet where there's pity, there's some small Relief.
But if thou dost this fearful Sentence bear,
There's none to pity, none to shed a tear.
O think of this, alas! thy wretched Eyes
Are blinded now, thou basely dost despise
The best of Comfort, Joy and Consolation,
For love to Sin, horrid Abomination!
Thou swell'st in pride, unmindful of thine end,
And seest no need of comfort from a Friend:
But what wouldst thou for such a Friend then give,
And for those Comforts thou mayst now receive?
Dost not thou tremble at this frightful news?
Tremble at least at that which next ensues.
Three things there are, three Circumstances great,
Which much thy final woe will aggravate:
Which severally unto thee I'le relate,
That thou mayst think upon thy future state.

First, from thy high Descent thy birth did crown
Thee with the greatest Honour and Renown,
That ever any had upon the Earth,
Thou being own'd a Soveraign Queen by Birth.
Yet that which did so much advance thy fame,
Was not alone the Honour of thy Name,
As the rare properties of thy sweet Nature,
A most transcendent and accomplisht Creature;
An Heav'n-composed frame, as if thou'dst bin
Deriv'd from some Celestial Seraphim.
When great Jehovah's fruitful Word had made
The whole Creation, touching thee, he said,
This Creature shall alone our Image bear,
Whom all things else shall reverence and fear;
Our Sacred Portraiture we solely place,
In this sweet Creatures Heaven-erected face.
And when he sent his first-begotten down,
No other form or Image must he own.
The Angels Nature wholly he refuses,
And rather Humane Soul and flesh he chuses.
Alas! there's not a greater aggravation,
Than for a person of the highest station
To be thrown down into the deep'st Abyss
Of woe and sorrow! oh! how sad is this?
Thy self caus'd change a miserable Creature,
Will surely make thy Torments far the greater.

The second Circumstance of Aggravation,
Is worthy of thy serious observation.
And that I may more fully make it known,
Under two Heads I'le briefly lay it down.

First, from the timely notice that was given,
By thy most Soveraign Lord, the King of Heaven,
When with his glorious Image he had grac'd thee,
And in fair Eden's fruitful Garden plac'd thee;
Ordain'd thee Mistress of that famous Bower,
Where thou mightst see his Glory every hour;
Granting whatever might accommodate
Thy pure perfect spotless Virgin state;
Excepting one reserved Fruit alone,
Which did indeed of Right belong to none
But to himself; that hidden Mysterie,
Which in the midst of Paradise did lie;
To know what Evil was as well as Good,
Which never could by men been understood,
But by an Art of the most horrid Evil,
And hearkning to, and siding with the Devil;
The dire effects to thee were told most plain,
The danger and the loss thou shouldst sustain;
The loss of Life, the loss of Eden's Glory,
The loss of God; a lamentable Story.
Warning was giv'n, God strictly did require,
On pain of Death, thou shouldst not once desire,
Nor tast, nor touch, nor cast a longing Eye
Upon this fatal Fruit, which certainly
Would straight procure thy final overthrow:
This timely notice shall augment thy Woe.
Fore-warn'd, fore-arm'd, you know we use to say:
Thou wast fore-warn'd, and yet didst go astray.
Contemptuous Soul! alas, how couldst thou think
The mighty God would at Rebellion wink?

Though he is said to wink at Ignorance,
Presumption is a different Circumstance.
Thou knew'st before-hand if thou didst trangress,
Assured Death would follow, and no less;
The Lord had said it, he that gave us breath,
Said, thou shouldst die, & yet thou feardst not Death.
This is the height, as well as spring of Evil,
To doubt and mistrust God, yet trust the Devil.
Against God's sacred Truth to shut ones Eyes,
And credit blindfold th' Father of all Lies.
Ah Soul! 'twas listning to a wanton lust,
That was the cause thou didst at first distrust
The glorious Lord, and falsely to surmise,
He was unwilling that thou shouldst be wise;
Afraid that thou shouldst know as much as He,
And grow a Rival to his Deity.
This blasphemous Conceit the Devil first,
In thine already wicked fancy nurst:
“'Tis (saith this Prince of Darkness) God's intent
“In this unjust Restraint, but to prevent
“Thy being like himself: for he doth know
“If once thou taste this Fruit, it will be so.
“Do thou but try, and taste, and presentlie
“Thou'lt find thy dim, dark Eye shall open'd be.
“This hidden Secret will be understood,
“And thou'lt know Evil, as thou now know Good
“You shall become as Gods: and I pray when
“'Tis so, what fear you? who can punish then?
“Your wisdom may the threatned Death evade,
“And with an equal pow'r Heav'ns pow'r upbraid

Thus spake the Tempter, and thou straight didst yield,
And treacherously to him didst quit the field.
Forthwith the fatal Fruit with impious hand,
Thou pluckst, and eatst, against thy God's command,
Branding thy self, and thy posterity,
With Treasons Guilt and endless misery.
And here, vile Soul! I cannot chuse but tell
Thee one thing more that will increase thy Hell,
The Devil had no power to compell
Thee to have tasted this his poisonous Feast,
But wilfully thou hast God's Law transgrest:
For though thou hadst a pow'rful Sword to weild,
Tempted to Lust, thou cowardly didst yield:
Thou to thy self dost thy destruction owe,
And this doth greatly aggravate thy woe.
If want of strength or weapons, if oppression
Do force a Man to give up his possession,
He is excus'd, and his unhappy fall
Condol'd, lamented, and bewail'd of all.
But he deserveth neither love nor pity,
That unconstrain'd surrenders up a City;
When he has pow'r to make strong opposition,
Furnisht with Arms and warlike Ammunition,
Yet at one slender Summons yields his Fort;
The mis'ries he sustains in such a sort,
Reflect upon himself, and do redouble
His conscious Anguish, self-accusing Trouble.
Just as the Southern Sun with burning beams,
Reflecting from a Wall with fierce extreams,

Above its natural strength or wonted course,
Scorches and burns with a far greater force:
So do those Flames, first kindled with desire,
Grow dangerous, and prove the stronger fire.
The wounds receiv'd from self-confounding Arms,
Have ever done poor Souls the greatest harms.

There's yet another Circumstance behind,
That aggravates thy smart, which, prethee mind.
When once thy fearful Torments are begun,
Thy fatal Glass will never cease to run;
Years fill'd with months, and months with weeks retire,
Weeks fill'd with days, & days with hours expire;
And hours in nimble minutes swiftly fly
Unto their End. But in Eternity
There is no End, nor will thy woes diminish,
Although years, moneths, weeks, and hours finish.
The toilsome Day when once it does expire,
All Creatures here to pleasing rest retire,
Slaves, Bondmen, Prisoners, Captives, all have ease,
No Drudgery so great, but then doth cease,
Each bustling Day ends in a Night of peace.
But thou must look to be with pains opprest,
Where mid-day torments find no night of Rest.
Death puts a period to the greatest grief,
I'th silent Grave the weary find relief:
But wish't-for Death from thee shall fly away,
Eternity's a never-ending Day.
Where th' angry mouth of Justice loud doth cry,
Here must thou ever, ever, ever lie.

How miserable! ah how sad's thine end!
When thou in vain shalt court Death for thy friend.
Men now do fly from Death, whilst Death pursues,
But then shall seek to Death, who will refuse
At their Request such favour to afford,
As frees them from that Breath giv'n by the Lord.
Death knows no pity: Nay, observe it well,
'Tis Death that opens wide the Gates of Hell,
Where thou must be tormented with the Devils,
As the just punishment of all thy evils.
Distressed Soul! oh unto what shall I
Compare thy easeless, endless misery!
In various Volumes of the World's Records,
Strange Tortures we may find exprest by words;
But Oh! so great, so sore is thy distress,
As flesh can't bear't, so words can't it express.
Devils rejoyce, and welcom in the Day
That crown'd their Conquests with so rich a prey;
To see thee thus quite buried in thy spoils,
Bereft of Earthly joys, and Heav'nly smiles;
And I do fear th' incensed God above
With direful Wrath will quickly thee remove
Into that place—. But hark! methinks I hear
Some dreadful noise—see how the Mountains tear,
And rending Hills, do into pieces fly,
Whilst Thunder bellows through the troubled sky:
The Stars and Planets in confusion hurl'd,
Have banisht Natures order from the World.
See how the melting Orbs of Heaven sweat,
Like Parchment parch'd, & shrivel'd up with heat,

Swift Lightning flashes through the Air appear,
And now, O hark! the dreadful Trump I hear,
It sounds exceeding loud, enough to make
The Dead from their deep silent Graves awake,
And stoutest Sinners stubborn hearts to quake.
Ah! 'tis Mount Sinai, God himself is come
Now to convince thee of thy final Doom.
The Law and Justice will thee now Arraign:
Poor Soul! for thee my Soul's in bitter pain.
From them be sure no Mercy thou wilt meet,
Although thou shouldst turn Suppli'nt at their feet.
Their method is so rigid, so severe,
The Guilty by no means they ever spare.
Awake, awake, poor Soul! and look about,
Jehovah doth command the Sinner out,
And active Justice having seiz'd her fast
Doth hale her to the Judgment-seat in hast.

Justice.
Most Soveraign Lord! who dares i'th least gainsay
What thou commandst? thy Word I must obey.
Lo! here I bring this wretched Prisoner forth
Unto thy Bar, who mad'st both Heaven and Earth,
See! with what dread the trembling wretch doth stand,
To know thy Sacred Pleasure & Command.

Jehovah.
Justice; What is her Fact? her Crimes declare:
I patiently will now the matter hear.

Justice.
Then will I legally, my Lord, proceed,
And presently her black Indictment reade.
Come forth thou Conscious wretch, and hear thy Crimes,
In wicked deeds thou didst begin betimes.
By th' name of Soul, thou standst indicted here,
Being without true Grace and godly fear,
Most treacherously in Eden long ago,
Didst then and there, with God's most horrid Foe,
Conspire against his Soveraign Majesty,
To the dethroning of him privily;
Then setst thou up a Traitor in his place,
And traiterously his Image didst deface,
And ever since hast in Rebellion stood,
Pursuing Evil, and forsaking Good.
For Treason, Murder, Theft, thou standst Indicted:
These Crimes were all in thy first fact united.
Nay, more then this, yet worser is thy Cause,
Thou art Arraign'd for breach of all those Laws,
Which in thy Nature God at first ingrav'd,
The same thou hast in every point deprav'd.
This Royal Law much hast thou violated,
And every Day thy Crimes are aggravated.
That Spirit's still in thee which was at first,
When God did thee out of his Garden thrust;
Thou sid'st with Satan, and dost him obey,
Not minding what, or God, or good men say.
All Evil Rebels in thy House remain,
And nobly there thou dost them entertain,

Whilst God thou hat'st, his proffer'd Love refuse,
And precious Patience daily dost abuse.
Therefore, my Lord! she worthy is of Death,
As ever any that on Earth drew Breath.

Jehovah.
Soul! What dost say, hold up thy guilty head,
Thou unto this Indictment now must plead:
Guilty, or not Guilty, I charge thee, speak;
Lest Justice doth severer Courses take.

Soul.
I dare not say I am not Guilty, Lord,
Of some of these foul Crimes which I have heard
Read in my Charge, 'tis vain for to deny,
My Conscience makes me Guilty, Guilty, cry.
Thy Law is broke, which doth all Lust forbid;
My Sin I know from thee cannot be hid.
Although methinks Justice seems too severe,
For the whole Charge hee'l scarcely make appear.

Jehovah.
Art guilty of that first and hainous Crime,
Which was committed, Soul, in Ancient time,
By him who was thy Representative,
From whom thy evil Nature didst derive?
If guilty of that one horrid Offence,
'Tis easie for thee to perceive from thence
Thou art under my Just and fearful Curse,
Condemned by thy God, what can be worse?

Soul.
To Adam's Sin, Lord, I must guilty plead;
Nay, and to many an actual Evil Deed.

Divine Justice.
The Prisoner does confess her vile offence,
And now there needs no further Evidence.
Shall Execution, Lord, on her be done?
How canst thou bear such a Rebellious one?
Lord, let me straight way strike the fatal blow,
Let her with vengeance to Hell-torments go.
She's guilty, even by her own Confession,
Of heaping up Transgression on Transgression.
She's in my Debt, she cannot it disown,
And I demand my Right, Come, pay it down.
Ten thousand Talents; Soul, thou owest me,
Which must be paid, and that full speedily.

Soul.
That I am in thy Debt I don't gainsay,
But I have not one farthing now to pay.
Some pity show, I for forbearance cry,
Since thy Demands I cannot satisfy.

Justice.
Full satisfaction 'tis that I must have,
In vain from me you compositions crave;
My Name is Justice, and my Nature so,
I never did, nor can I mercy show.

Soul.
If there's no mercy, then my state is sad,
And never was there any News so bad

For Adam's seed, who under Sin do lie,
All then must perish to Eternity.

Theologue.
That God is gracious, Soul, is not deny'd,
Yet Justice will also be satisfy'd.
Consider if thou canst the matter reach;
One Attribute God never will impeach
To magnify another; He's so Just,
As to take vengeance on each Sin and Lust;
Each Attribute know thou assuredly
Must meet together in sweet Harmony.

Soul.
What will thy Wrath, O Justice! then appease?
Upon what terms wilt thou afford some ease
To me, after this terrifying News?
Vouchsafe to tell the means that I must use,
To satisfie a Judge that's so severe,
And will not of sweet Acts of pardon hear.

Justice.
There's nothing can appease me, that is less
Than a compleat and perfect Righteousness;
Like that thou hadst whilst thou in Eden stood:
Nothing, save this, will do thee any good.
What e're is due to me of the old score,
Must be paid down, or never any more
Will the great God with thee concerned be
On gracious terms of Peace and Amitie;

A Sacrifice can only make thy peace,
That, that alone, will cause my wrath to cease.

Soul.
If that be all, I'le get a Sacrifice;
Let me consider, what shall I devise?
A thousand Rams, and Rivers of sweet Oil,
I'le offer up but for one gracious Smile;
With fat of firstling Lambs I'le Heaven invoke,
And purest Incense up like Clouds shall smoke;
Each Morn I'le sacrifice whole Hecatombs,
With Frankincense, and sweet Arabian Gums.
In these, O Lord! I offer up to thee;
May they atone for mine Iniquity?

Justice.
Oh no! give o're those trifling low designs;
The Eastern Spices and the Western mines
United, are too mean an Offering
To satisfy this great incensed King.
In such poor offerings God does take no pleasure;
Couldst thou therefore procure all Europes Treasure;
Nay, all the Wealth that in the World has bin,
'Tould not his wrath appease for one small sin.
Shouldst thou thy dearest Son or Daughter take
For Sacrifice, 'twould no Atonement make:
The fruit of thine own Body were in vain
For thy Soul's sin a pardon to obtain.
No Friend or Brother can'st thou now find out
To pay thy Ransom, or release thee out;

Their Riches never can be help for thee,
Nor once redeem thy Soul from misery.
Nay, couldst thou yet ascend to Heaven above,
And holy Angels with compassion move
For to engage for thee, and signify
That in thy stead, and for thy sake they'd die,
It would not do; for in them's no such worth
As to remove thy guilt, appease God's wrath.
Their Glory's great, as holy Scriptures show;
Yet all they have and are to God they owe.
They cannot help thee in thy great distress,
Nor satisfy the Law thou dost transgress.
In brief, look where thou wilt; no Balsam's found
In any Creature for to cure thy wound.
No Surety can'st thou get; then come away,
Eternal Torments must thy Reckoning pay.

Soul.
Hold, hold, thou art too hasty and severe,
To one word more I pray thee lend an Ear.
I will amend my life, if this be so.
The Promise runs to such as truly do
Their Evil courses leave; I hope hereby
Thou wilt some pity show, not let me die.

Divine Justice.
Fond Soul! though such thy promises indeed
So often broke, deserve but little heed;
Yet grant thou shouldst henceforth with strictest care
Endeavour thine offences to repair,

Couldst thou so live, as never to sin more,
Will this, dost think, pay off thy former score?
Can thine imperfect Righteousness to come,
Discharge of by-past ills, so vast a sum?
When even that which thou callst Righteousness
It self wants pardon, and must Guilt confess.
When thy Bond's su'd, thou dost thy self forget,
To offer menstruous Rags to pay thy Debt;
For what is past, not future, I demand,
And thou shalt feel the rigors of my hand.

Soul.
Lord! then I'm drown'd in an Abyss of fears,
If hearty Sighs, nor penitential Tears
Can wash me clean, nor yet relieve my wo:
My case is desp'rate, what shall Mortals do?

Divine Justice.
If thou with Tears couldst the vast Ocean fill,
Or grieve till thou thy self with sorrows kill,
And make ten thousand Rivers with thy blood,
'Twould not contribute the least dram of Good.
Nay, couldst thou live, and never more offend,
Yet for old sins to Hell I must thee send,
To th' place of Execution thou must go:
Lord, shall I strike, O shall I strike the blow?
Lo, here the Soul, condemned wretch doth stand;
My Ax is up, if thou but giv'st command,
I presently will cut her down with Ire,
Fit fewel for an Everlasting fire.

100

Divine Mercy.
Stay, Justice! hold, forbear to strike; shall I
My Glory lose to all Eternity?
Though thou art just, as just as God can be,
Yet something Mortals still expect from me.
'Tis gracious Love and pity I afford,
In me shines forth the Glory of the Lord:
In me God doth (O Justice) take delight,
Though thou art pleasant also in his sight.
How shall we both then meet in Harmony,
And shine in spendor to Eternity?

Divine Wisdom.
I have found out the way, which will you both
With equal Majesty and Glory cloath.
God is as just as Justice doth require,
And yet as kind as Mercy can desire.
Here is a glorious Prince come from above,
Who all obstructions quickly will remove,
Which in the way of the poor Soul doth lie,
And you appease, and jointly satisfy;
To save her now from the infernal pit,
I have a Ransom found, a Ransom fit.

Divine Justice.
I cannot hold,—I'le strike the fatal Blow:
Hell she deserves; with vengeance let her go
Unto the place appointed for all them
Who do God's holy Laws and Grace contemn.

101

Jesus Prince of Light.
O who is this? What Traitor's at the Bar,
That is condemn'd, and Justice wo'nt defer
The Execution? speak, hold up thy head;
Hast any thing to say? What canst thou plead?
Methinks, methinks, I should this Creature know:
Ah! Soul, is't thee? What shall I for thee do?
I told thee what thy state would be i'th end,
When first my Love to thee I did commend.
Soul! Speak, 'tis I, why dost thou not look up?
I'm sorely griev'd to think upon the Cup
That is prepar'd for thee; What dost thou say?
Shall I step in, that Justice may delay
To strike the stroke, for then too late 'twill be
To show my Love and pity unto thee?
Hast any kindness for me in thine Heart?
I doubt that still thou the same Creature art
Thou wast before? and hast no love at all:
Why speakst thou not? shall vengeance on thee fall?
Ah! how can I see Execution done,
And Tears not from mine Eyes like Rivers run?

Divine Justice.
Lord, be n't concern'd, she is thy bitter Foe;
Oh let me therefore freely strike the blow.
There's nought in her but Sin, and poisonous Evil;
To God a Foe, and Friend unto the Devil.

102

JESUS.
I know not how to let this stroke be given,
For I am come on purpose down from Heaven
To make Atonement, and to satisfy
For all her sins and foul Iniquity.
Though she to me doth no affection bear,
Yet her I pity, and do love most dear.

Justice.
Blest JESUS! hold, 'tis my just Master's sense,
Abused Mercy must have recompence.
There is no other way but she must die,
Unless thou wilt be her Securitie:
If in her stead thy life thou wilt give up,
Then mayst thou save her from this bitter Cup.
The price which thou on that account wilt pay,
Will make a Compensation, and defray
All her vast Debts, yea plenarily
God's wrath appease, and Justice satisfy.
What must be done? Who is't the stroke must bear?
Is't not most fit such should who guilty are?
I cannot hold my hand, nor longer stay,
Law must be satisfy'd, what dost thou say,
Thou wretched Soul? behold the knife and spear!
Can'st thou, dost think, God's fearful vengeance bear?
Now, Soul! look to thy self, this Spear I'le run
Into thy Bowels, ere I it return.

103

JESUS.
Stay Justice, stay, withold thy furious Dart,
And, let its glitt'ring point first pierce my Heart.
Her guilty state aloud calls for relief,
It wounds my Soul and fills my Heart with grief.
My Bowels yearn, my inward parts do move,
Now, now's the time to show her my great Love.
Let Law and Justice be suffic'd in me,
'Tis I will die, to set the Sinner free.
Behold me, Soul! my life shall go for thine,
I will redeem thee with this Blood of mine,
Although most Precious, Sacred, and Divine.