University of Virginia Library

A DISCOURSE CONCERNING The Creation, Fall and Recovery of Man.

Jehovah Elohim.
I Am that which I am; this is His Name,
Who happy always is, always the same.
He Essence and Existence owes to none.
Whom can he owe it to, being God alone?
Himself he his own happiness doth call;
What can he want, who in himself hath all?
Both life and light, and love, and every thing,
Which may delight and satisfaction bring.
Of company there is no want, for he
Hath in himself a Blessed Trinity.
Before the World was, he was not alone;
He then was, and is still full Three in One.
And in this happy, that the Trinity
Doth not divide his perfect Unity,
For the Three Persons are one Essence still,
One therefore in affection, one in will.
The Son set up from everlasting, is
His Father's great delight, the Father his.
Before him always he rejoiceth, he
Causeth and findeth matchless joy to be.
The Spirit too, which doth from them proceed,
Doth the same joy both feast upon, and feed.
But though no want of any thing could be
Consistent with his sacred Deity;
His Goodness did not love to stay at home,
Communications did it become.
He did no Heaven need, is his own place;
Yet for th' eternal glory of his Grace,
Heaven he fram'd, and Earth, both by a word
Of power; in both he is the Soveraign Lord.
Above, he Angels plac'd, who all once shone
As Morning-Stars about that Glorious Throne,
On which he sits an everlasting Sun,
Whose influence and beams can ne're be done.
A Law to them he gave, that Law some brake,
And down he kickt them to the burning Lake;
Where they in everlasting chains shall lie;
Wishing for death, though they can never die.
Yet Heaven is not empty, for although
Many did fall, many do stand, who do
Attend upon him: Thousands, yea, and more,
Ten thousand times ten thousand do adore
His Majesty with veiled face, and sing
In th' highest glory to their God and King.
But besides Angels, he from Earth did take
A despicable clod, and of it make
A Creature, whom he nobly did endue
With Will and Understanding, and did shew
In him his own Image; than Angels less
He was but little, for with Holiness
God did invest him, and resolv'd to make
Him of ne're-ending happiness partake:
And with his chosen Progeny to fill
His stately Palace, his most holy Hill.
So he resolv'd, so did, and formed man,
One and no more; in one the World began.
Of dust he formed him, dust of the ground;
Yet he with Honour him, and Glory crown'd.
His own similitude he gave him, and
Sov'raign authority for to command
Fishes of Sea, with Fowls, and Beasts of field,
Who all obedience unto him must yield.
And having made him for his pleasure-sake,
He commun'd with him, and thus to him spake.

GOD.
Adam who art my Workmanship, know, thou
Unto none shalt, but thy Creator bow.
Others shall bow to thee, thee I have given.
All things that are under the cope of Heaven.
The world is thy dominion; but my love
Hath for thy Court chosen this pleasant Grove;
Eden I call't, a Garden where thou hast
Varieties to please both eye and tast.
One fruit alone's with-held, and therefore see,
Thou do not venture once to taste that Tree
Which knowledg doth of Good and Evil give,
Forbear to taste it, as thou hop'st to live.
I, who am Truth it self, and cannot lie,
Say, In the day thou eatest, thou shalt die.
Death 'tis I threaten, therefore have a care;
Who e're shall tempt thee to't, Adam beware.
All other fruits I give thee for thy meat,
Of them thou hast free leave freely to eat.
Be then content, if this thou tastest, sin
Will draw the latch, and so grim Death comes in.

ADAM.
O God my Maker, I do thee adore
For mine own being, and this bounteous store:
Which thou providest hast, O let my love
Always flame high to thee my God above.
Yet grant me leave to speak, and make my moan
Unto thy gracious ear: I am alone,
In midst of comforts comfortless, since I
My days do pass without society.
Whatever creatures in the world there are,
Of each sort of them I do find a pair.
Which I together see associate,
And sweetly please themselves, each in his Mate.
But betwixt me and them's disparitie;
No pleasure therefore, 'cause no harmonie.
Man should not turn a bruit, and no bruit can
Be a companion suitable to man.

GOD.
Canst not thou find pleasure enough alone?
What Prince would have another in his Throne?
Look round about thee, see, how I have made
Others to serve, and thee to be obey'd.
On thee shall all attend, from thee take Law,
And of thee every one shall stand in awe.
Before thee they shall come to sport and play,
And various delights yield every day.
Names thou hast given them, and so dost know
Their nature: and their duty they know too.
Be satisfied then, and mind my charge,
Great are thy comforts, thy dominion large.
Besides, look up to me, I am alone,
From everlasting beside me is none.
Heaven view, & Skie, with Sea, & Earth, and Air,
And who is there that can with me compare?
All Creatures I have made, and all to me
Be more inferior than they are to thee.
Yet be assured, that I do possess
In mine own self most perfect happiness.

ADAM.
Lord, pardon me, thy dust, if I reply,
And once more speak unto thy Majesty.
I cannot comprehend thee, but admire
Thy glorious being, and thou art still higher
Than is mine admiration; thou above
My highest thoughts art placed, or my love.
In thee do all perfections abound,
No one deficiency in thee is found.
In essence, Lord, I know, thou art but one
Yet being all in all, thou needest none.
In thy self thou hast all, so have not I.
A creature cannot grasp Infinity
Of bliss and happiness in its own arms,
And therefore cannot but look out for charms,
And beauties, and delights; one that may be
Fit to serve God, fit to converse with me.
One that may be my comfort every way,
My help at all times, both in night and day.

GOD.

ADAM.
Blessed Creator, of thine own good will,
Heaven and Earth with goodness thou dost fill.
On all thy works great beauty is imprest,
But of all Fairs, this fair one is the best.
My self I in her see, bone of my bone,
Flesh of my flesh she is, my lovely one.
Woman she shall be called, because she
Extracted was from man, even from me.
And for this cause he shall most gladly leave
Father and Mother, and to's Wife shall cleave.
Let nothing their joint-happiness controul,
For they one flesh shall be, one heart and soul.

GOD.
Adam consider well, and throughly know,
What love, praise, and obedience thou dost owe
Unto me thy Creator, who did rear
Thee out of dust, and then inclin'd mine ear
To thy request, and gave thee one that might
Make great addition unto thy delight.
Now have a care, sin not, but stand in awe.
Do not thou disobey me; and the Law
I gave thee think upon. Do not thou eat
Of that one tree, its fruit is deadly meat.
In framing of thy Wife, I've done my part,
She hath thine image and thou hast her heart.
Act thou thy part also, thou art the Head;
It becomes thee to lead, her to be led.
She is to help thee, and with thee to live;
But counsel and advice are thine to give.
More wisdom therefore I on thee confer,
Use but that wisdom, and thou wilt not err,
Or wander from the path of life. Be thou
Her guide, for such I do ordain thee now.
She is a lovely Creature, therefore she
Deserveth love and cherishing from thee.
In a just ballance yet be sure to weigh
With her thy self, and do not overlay
Her worth with thy esteem. The greatest grace
Attends not always on the sweetest face.
The side from whence she came, keep thou her by,
And over her a tender watchful eye.
Let her not from thee go, lest she alone
Be by another, thou by her undone.
Thus have I set thee up, thus I advise,
My charge do not forget, Adam be wise.

ADAM.
Come, dearest Consort, of my self a part,
Who of me formed wast, who hast my heart:
By our Creators gift, Eve, thou art mine;
And by bond-conjugal I too am thine.
May nothing, nothing, nothing ever be
Cause of disquiet unto thee or me.
Look round about thee, all things here below
Are subject unto us, to us they owe
Obedience, and we to God above,
All whose commands speak him a God of love.
For present there is none but thou and I,
But he hath said, Increase and multiply.
While we do live, let us rejoice together;
Yea, let us still rejoice one in another;
Yet most in God himself, for he will be,
If we sin not, ours to eternitie.
He hath this Garden given us to tend,
We must both dress and keep it; we must bend
Our labours that way: but our labour will
Breed us no pain nor weariness, but still
Our recreation prove; this blest estate,
In which we are, hath nothing to abate
Our full-grown pleasures; here will be no let
Of sickness, tyring none, no grief nor sweat.
See what variety of trees God made
For our use and delight: Now in the shade
Of this we'l sport together, then at root
Of that we'l sit, then go and pluck the fruit
Of one and other freely; there's no fear,
No none at all, of catching surfeits here.
Avoid the Tree forbid, and then there's none,
But we may feed upon, all are our own.

EVE.
Our lines are fallen well; we with delight
May feast in day, and then may rest at night
In sweet embraces. Our great Lord thought meet
T' appoint a place of pleasures for our seat.
As for our work, we may not quarrel it,
Since by him ordered, by whom 'tis fit
All things should order'd be, because all made;
His will, whate're it is, must be obey'd.
And therefore, Adam, let us up and do
The work which our Creator set us to.
And if you do consent, we'l part a while,
And work asunder, because every smile
Which passeth us between, will prove a let,
Taking us off from business; when we get
Alone, our work we follow harder may,
And comfortably end it with the day.
Continual enjoyment may abate
Sweetness, so that we may it nauseate.
A little absence now and then will prove
Sauce to our dainties, fewel to our love.
When after that we two again do meet,
We shall with fresh delight each other greet.

ADAM.
Silence, my Dearest, I cannot abide
To think thou shouldst be absent from my side.
Because our business doth not call away,
We may dispatch it, and together stay.
We were not made to toil, but work with pleasure,
And so may do what's to be done at leisure.
Nor will some distance more advance our joy,
For in this state communion can't annoy.
Fruition in Heaven's always full,
And yet delight in Heaven never's dull.
And prithee tell me why it mayn't be so
On Earth too, in a Paradise below.
But more, my Love, I fear lest thou shouldst be
In danger, when out of my companie.
For though we Happiness our own may call,
Yet there is possibility of fall.
Angels in Heaven did sin, and Heaven did lose,
And then became of God and man the foes.
God they grudg honour, and us happiness,
Endure they cannot that we should possess
An Heaven now on Earth, nor that at last,
We should that Heaven have whence they were cast.
And therefore doubtless some of them will try,
Us two to bring to endless misery.
Our frame they know, that we were made of dust;
And if that we should sin, we again must
Unto the dust return, whence we were taken,
Being of God and Happiness too forsaken.
Malicious spirits they are, and understand
How any base design to take in hand,
And how to manage it; they full well know,
Which way will take best, whether so, or so.
'Tis true, they cannot force us, we may chuse
Whether we'l yield unto them or refuse.
Both these are in our power; never can
The power of Hell compel the will of man.
And I do know, my Love, that thou art wise;
But I know too, there may be a surprise.
My God made thee, because I was but one,
He saw it was not good to be alone;
Wherefore since for my comfort thou wast made,
Do not depart from my securing-shade.
Thy honour and thy safety both do lie
In keeping in thy Husbands companie.
When we together are, my help thou't be,
And I shall give protection unto thee.

EVE.
What means all this, my Lord? doth Jealousie
(That bane of conjugal Society)
Peep up already in thy breast? dost fear
My faithfulness to God or thee? To hear
Ought to this purpose I expected not;
Unto mine Honour it's a stain, a blot.
Since force and violence cannot prevail,
Fraud and enticements sure shall not avail.
Since I was framed by the hand of Heaven,
What have I done? or what occasion given?
What hast thou found either in look or word,
Or in one single carriage, which afford
Ground of suspicion may? I pray thee tell;
For me, I know, thou hast observed well.
I from thy side was without fault transmitted
Into thy bosome, and have I committed
Any fault since? If thou dost answer, None,
Let me know why I may not be alone.

ADAM.
Sweet Creature, made by God, and made of me:
Who under God art my felicity,
My Love, my Second-self, my Hearts delight,
In whom I do rejoyce both day and night.
Think not that I would an Inditement draw
Against thee, for I cannot, there's no flaw
In thy perfections, but thou dost stand
A Creature worthy of thy Makers hand.
No spot in thy most perfect beauty is,
Nothing at all in thee I find amiss,
Nor yet in thy deportments; thou dost do
Nothing but what becomes, and pleaseth too.
And may this still continue, may that grace
Rest always on thy brow, that lovely face
Never be veiled with a blush for shame,
Let blemish never light upon thy name.
But though thou art, through innocency, fair,
Yet thou art mutable, so we both are.
And ere we are aware of it, may fall,
And thereby ruine both our selves and all
From us that shall proceed. One fatal blow
May us and our posterity undo.
Wherefore I judg it needful to unite
Our strength and reason, that we may keep right
What we have found so; if we stay together,
We may hold bravely up, and all storms weather.
Should an Assailant come, then would I be
To thee a Monitor, and thou to me.
If thou be wise, this counsel thou wilt hear,
And follow, mov'd with love, nay mov'd with fear.
But if for all this, Eve, thou hast a mind
Alone to go, and wouldst not be confin'd
Unto thy Husbands Elbow; if to try
A combat single with an Enemy
Do seem more glorious, than in the field
To have a Second that some help may yield;
Unwillingly I condescend, you may
Go, only God be with thee all the day.
Go in thy strength, thy native innocence,
And may integrity be thy defence.
Consider what thou art, and whose, and why,
These things considering, do not comply
With a temptation, that would withdraw
Thee from thy duty, but then stand in awe.
God and his threatning fear with all thy heart;
To fear him is from evil to depart.
Of Virtues thou art full, summon them all,
If need be; to thy help me also call.

EVE.
Having obtained leave, away I'le go,
And arm'd with uprightness not dread a foe.
Likely it is, we are more nice than wise,
What mischief can lurk in a Paradise?
Surely the envious one will never bend
Hither his steps, where Angels do attend
Upon us as a Guard. Or if to vex
Man be his choice, methinks the weaker Sex
He should not first attempt. So great a foe
Will think it scorn for him to stoop so low.
But say he should, He's fall'n, Why may not I
With ease resist a fallen enemy?

SATAN.
I now that opportunity have met,
Which I so much have long'd for, and will set
My trap immediatly; for in my pain
Nothing can ease me unless her I gain;
Not for a Spouse: Carnal embraces do
Not with Angelic Beings suit. We, who
Have nothing terrene in us, soar much higher,
And unto things more noble do aspire.
It's for a slave I'd have her, that she may
Fry in Hell-flames with me another day.
Lovely she is: But what is that to me?
Before my fall I fairer was than she.
And since revenge I do resolve, I must
No beauty like, but as it draws to lust.
What God and man doth please, doth me offend;
I shall by spoiling that attain my end.
That soul shall lose its rectitude, that face
Shall be devested of its comely grace;
And when I have once drawn her into sin,
How shall I laugh to see what case She's in?
Among the creatures I have been to chuse
An instrument, by whom I may abuse
This new-made couple, and find none so meet
As is the Serpent for this devillish cheat.
Of beasts he is most subtle, the whole field
Doth not another half so crafty yield.
With him my self I now incarnate will,
And in a Serpent be a Devil still.
It matters not though I my self abase,
So I Gods image may in man deface.
This Serpent then I'le use my mind to break;
He, taught by me, thus unto Eve shall speak.

SERPENT.
Lady Supreme, unto whose great command,
We all are subject, and obedient stand.
Vouchsafe a pardon to me, who am bold
Your presence thus to enter, and behold
With ravisht spirit, and with humbled eye
Your person which resembles Deity.
Put on a smile, and do not that brow bend.
Where Majesty and Love seem to contend.
I was created dumb, but do rejoyce,
That now I can with an articulate voice,
Applaud the charms of thy beauty Divine,
And tell thee I by gift and love am thine.
Yea so are all things else, and were there more,
They all thy beauty always would adore.
Yet they of me fall short, for lately I
Some distance hence did happily espy
A goodly tree laden with fruit, which might
Tempt the most dull and sluggish appetite.
I had no sooner seen it, but my mind
Was for a fast sharp set. So I did wind
About the body of it, and at last
I did get up; being so, I could not cast
Mine eye on any twig, but I did meet
With numberless temptations to eat.
Restrain my self I could not any more;
Sin it was not to eat, where was such store.
Venture therefore I did, and don't repent,
For I return much better than I went.
Here is my former shape, my former skin,
But there's great alteration made within.
The strings that once my tongue ti'd, now are loos'd,
Into my mind a glorious light's infus'd.
I that before was beast throughout, now can
Hear, and discourse, and understand like man.
When upon me this great effect was wrought,
Duly I it considered, and thought
It crime unpardonable should I smother
Such an advantage, and acquaint no other
With what my self had found. 'Twas in my heart,
Good groweth better when we it impart.
My Lord I dar'd not tell of this. His brow
Is with such Majesty array'd, we bow
Before him all amaz'd; without dispute,
His very look will strike a speaker mute.
But from thy milder aspect I did take
Encouragement humble address to make,
And tell thee what I find. This is the Tree,
Which in a moment wrought this change in me.
If such a Servitor would please, in haste
I'd up again, and fetch you down a taste.
Do it your self, sweet Lady, look up, and
Gather an Apple with your lilly-hand.
Had I but ought to pawn, it pawn would I,
That eating would advance you; Lady, try.

EVE.
Serpent, thou mightst of thus discoursing me
Have sav'd thy self the labour. 'Tis a Tree,
We are forbidden; thou may'st go and boast
What good thou foundest, to the numerous host
Of creatures lately made, and let them try,
If eating of it will them edifie,
As thee it seems it did; what is thy gain,
Should I tast too, would surely be my bane.
Our great Creator did by words express,
Command us to forbear, and ne'rtheless
Would'st thou have me to meddle? Shall a Law
So strict be given, and I not stand in awe?
Is disobedience the way to rise?
Or can sin be the way to become wise?
What e're advantage this Tree hath thee brought
I do conclude thy counsel now is naught.

SERPENT.
My Sovereign Mistris, I thy pardon crave,
If I in any thing offended have.
For that offence did from pure love proceed,
And love deserves a pardon when there's need.
With mine own gain I could content have stood,
Had I not zealously desir'd thy good.
At what else could I aim? As for this Tree,
I could have kept its virtues hid from thee.
Yea, had I thought its fruit forbid, sure I
Should not have dar'd to cross that Majesty
Whose great creating-Word did being give
To thee and me, and by whose Word we live.
Your patience yet most humbly I implore,
And beg you would consider well, before
You positively determine any thing
In this one case. Unto your mind first bring
What God indeed did say, so you may see
You're under some mistake; I will be free.
Did he say, Madam, did he say; indeed,
On all these Garden-trees ye shall not feed?
Did he not constitute you Lords of all?
Hath he not made you owners general
Of Fish, and Fowl, and Beasts? Did he not give
Unto you all things that on earth do live?
And all the herbs that bear seed in the field,
With fruit of all Trees too that seed do yield?
And hath he after all excepted one,
Bounding thereby your vast Dominion?
Have you at last a confin'd liberty?
Freedom that is not, where all is not free.

EVE.
I well remember what our Lord did say,
As well as if he spoken had to day.
We may the fruit eat of all Trees that do
Within this most delightful Garden grow.
But for the fruit of this Tree, which doth stand
In th' midst of Garden, this is his command,
This, I am sure he said, for I was by,
Ye shall not eat, nor touch it, lest ye die.
And though, what Death is, I as yet can't tell,
I judg, that Death containeth in it Hell.

SERPENT.
Lo here the reason of a rigid Law,
Meerly to keep inferiors in awe.
Did God say thus, when ye do eat ye dye?
Look down and see that threat a foppery.
See't so in me, a kind of pious cheat;
I live, and yet I of that Tree did eat.
Nay that my eating quickly was attended
By nobler life than e're was me intended.
The best was thee design'd, sure then at least,
Eat thou maist what is eaten by a beast.
Shake off vain fear, I tell thee, even I,
What e're he said, surely ye shall not die.
For God himself doth know it, what day ye
Do eat thereof, your eyes shall open'd be.
Yea, unto gods ye shall be like, for so
Both what is good and evil ye shall know.
Good, the more known it is, the more enjoy'd;
By knowing evil, you may it avoid.
And doth not this invite? Knowledg is one,
Nay a great part of Gods perfection.
With it you should be filled, since the fates
Have made you Universal Potentates.
For he that is advanc'd to highest Rule,
Should be at furthest distance from a Fool.
Nor can your knowledg hurt God, if he be,
As we suppose, from imperfection free.
He knoweth all things, sure; and what if you,
Who bear his Image, be made knowing too?
When your eyes opened are, you will thereby
Resemble him the more who is all eye.
But why should we more words thus spend in waste?
Stretch out thy hand, gather, and freely taste.
That tasting will us change, but with these odds,
Me it makes like to you, you like to Gods.

EVE.
What time of day is it? Hath the swift Sun
His morning up-hill-course already run?
Me-thinks I feel a sharpned appetite,
Which calls for food, and this Tree doth invite
To come and eat thereof. If I compare
All Fruits together, there is none more rare
Presents it self in th' Garden, none so well
Doth with its fragrancy delight my smell.
And sure some hidden virtues in it lie,
Concealed hitherto from human eye
And understanding, yea the very name,
God gave it, doth greatly confirm the same:
Himself the Tree of knowledg did it stile,
Can such a Tree destroy? can it defile?
Besides experience good now hath me taught,
This lovely Tree was not design'd for nought
But a shew only, for one taste did raise
And teach a creature dumb to speak its praise.
Which is an argument, I shall not dye,
The Serpent eat and dy'd not, why should I?
Are only we restrain'd? Death only found
Us two to fright, and keep us within bound?
Was this rare fruit designed for a beast?
And must we die the death, if taste the least?
I'le not believe it, I will take and trie,
Yea, and taste too, although I taste and die.
But if when I have eaten I do live,
And like, I will some unto Adam give.

ADAM.
My Dear, where hast thou spent so many hours?
What work could thee detain? what pleasant bow'rs
Could keep thee from me? or what could supply
Thy Husbands room so long? for certain I
Did greatly miss thee, and do find it true,
Upon this earth is nothing like to you.
Nor only so, for I did strangely find
A discomposure in my thoughts and mind,
Which boded ill, methought, a sudden blow
Was given, though by what hand I did not know.
The earth beneath did tremble, and withall,
Off from their trees the fading leaves did fall;
Upon a sudden beauty left their fruit,
And all the pretty warbling birds stood mute.
Some creatures fearful grew, and others fierce,
Their looks were stern. Eve, I cannot rehearse
All that I did observe: My blood waxt chill,
My heart misgave me, there was something ill
Had fallen out; and though I had e'en wove
Of choicest flowers a Garland for my love,
Out of my hands I threw it, would not stay
A minute longer, but did come away.
In haste to find thee, glad to meet thee here.
How dost thou feel thy self, how is't my dear?

EVE.
It never better was, never so well,
Unless I judg amiss, since I could tell
What Being means. Thy company indeed
Most sorely I did miss, and shall take heed
Of future absence; for I felt such pain
Upon that score, I would not feel again.
But that which me detain'd so long was this:
The subtle Serpent (who advanced is
Unto a nobler state than what he had,
And is of that advancement very glad)
Most humbly came, desirous to acquaint
Me with his change, and did most sweetly paint
In lively colours virtues of that tree
Which you and I by God forbidden be
A taste of. This he did in humane voice,
With words that were most eloquent and choice.
This secret, not being selfish, but most free,
Others should with him share, he did to me
Kindly impart, and withal much perswade
Me for to take and eat —

ADAM.
Ah! but I hope he did perswade in vain.
My Dearest tell me, for I am in pain
To know thee issue —

EVE.
My Lord, he did perswade, and did prevail.
I saw, I took, I eat. What wil't avail
Now to deny the fact; neither despise
Me for what's done, much clearer are mine eyes,
Scales off did fall, my mind is more sublime,
Than e're I found it was before this time.
My spirits are dilated, my thoughts flie
Hither and thither with full libertie,
All my affections are rais'd, I do
Conclude my self a kind of Goddess too.

ADAM.
My soul is troubled; thou hast troubled me,
Who formed wast my Comforter to be.
Upon me hath amazement taken hold;
My joints are loosed all; and horror cold
Runs through my veins, this 'tis to be undone
By her that is my dear and only one.
Oh! that I ever suffer'd thee to go
Alone, expos'd alone unto thy fo.
Had I deny'd thee then, I had not now
Known those sad sinking sorrows which I do.
Lately thou wast most lovely and most sweet,
In thee did all create Perfections meet.
But now thou art defac'd, thou now art lost,
Which will a thousand, thousand sorrows cost.
Oh! hadst thou ne'er been made, or being made,
Wouldst have my counsel given thee, obey'd.
Poor ruin'd Eve! for I must change my note,
What e're thou think'st, thou art to death devote.
Thy wound's incurable, who can it heal?
God never will the sentence past repeal.

EVE.
Did I feel what thou fearest, I would be
Alone a victim to that Deitie
Which thou supposest angry, and so end
All that displeasure thou dost apprehend.
But whence these fears? I pray and pray again,
That thou wouldst tell me. Is not the case plain?
The Serpent did eat first, afterward I,
And we do live, why shouldest thou then die
If thou shouldst eat? but grant it, hadst not rather,
If die we must, that we die both together?
Where is thy love? or where thy noble heart?
Art thou afraid to die? shall death us part?
But where, where is he, if his fatal blow
Must cut me off, why don't he strike it now?
Come let me hug thee in my tender arm,
And so infolded fear not any harm.
I tell thee, and with twenty kisses seal
The truth of these my words, I ne'r did feel
Such extasies of joy as did insue
My tasting of that tree. Taste thou it too.

ADAM.

DEVIL.
Of my ends thus I master am, thus I
With ease have triumph'd o're mine enemy.
God did intend to honour dust to raise,
And make these despicable worms a praise.
A race of men, he was resolv'd, should spring
From Adam's loins, forsooth, them he would bring
To those cœlestial places whence we fell,
And while we do tormenting pains in hell
Suffer without all hope; there they should be
As favourites crown'd with felicity.
And that at which my spirit most recoils,
Is, they should be enriched with our spoils.
And could we Angels brook it? though we are
Fallen and ruin'd, yet we cannot bear
Such an affront. I gladly would have prey'd
On his Imperial Throne, I would invade
His stately Royal Palace, if that it
Would but a siege, or storm, or myne admit.
But its walls are too high for me to scale.
It's gate so fastned, no strength can prevail
To force it open, there he sits secure
In happiness for ever to endure.
Well, though his lofty Throne I could not shake,
I now have that atchieved, which will make
Some breach upon his peace, and spoil in part
His matchless joys, and grieve him to the heart.
I call to mind how greatly he was pleas'd
VVith our confusion, when he had eas'd
Heaven of us as its burden, and in chains
Of darkness clapt us, while himself still reigns
In light and glory; therefore now will we
Be pleas'd at his disturbance, now that he
Is to repentance brought for making man,
Yea, grieveth inwardly for making man.
VVhere is the beauty now of his Creation?
He that his darling was, is his vexation.
I have him so seduc'd, that even he
Novv is become his Makers enemy.
Man, whom before he in his arms did cherish
Of Love, is now worse than the beasts that perish.
Hasten, sin, now, him with all evil fill;
Death feast upon him, but be hungry still.
Both air and earth your territories call,
And exercise dominion over all.
But specially o're man, diseases cast,
Sorrows throwe on him, and him kill at last.
Thus Devil, Sin, Death, and the Triplicity
Infernal, after all victorious be.
Let our grand enemy rejoyce, that out
Of Heaven he hath tumbled at one bout
So many thousand Angels. I can tell
Almost as great a feat perform'd by Hell
At once, and by one little Strat'gem I
Have Adam ruin'd, and his progeny,
Millions and Millions of them, who shall now
'Gainst God rebel, and to our Scepter bow.
Henceforth to make man happy shall cost more
A great deal than it would have cost before.

ADAM.
Night most uncomfortable I have had;
None such till now, a thousand thousand sad
And frightful thoughts have taken up my mind:
And now, Eve, at my waking I do find
My head much discompos'd, yea out of frame
I feel my self all o're, find not the same
Serenity within, nor strength without;
There is, alas! there is a total rout
Of purity, and peace, and joy; All's gone:
Instead of being made, we are undone.
Our eyes indeed are open'd, for I see
Our selves expos'd to shame and misery.
Now we are naked, and that very thing
Which was our glory, doth now blushes bring.
Our rectitude is lost, our beauty is
Turn'd to deformity. All is amiss,
And out of order quite: where e'r mine eye
Fixeth, on self or thee, I faults espy.
An hapless hour it was, when without fear
Thou didst incline thy over-curious ear
Unto that ill-taught Serpent, who did feign
An humane voice, that he thereby might gain
Closer attention from thee, and infuse
Notions would thy credulity abuse
T'our ruin, he a very counterfeit
Was, and his promises an arrant cheat.
It's true, our eyes are open'd, and we do
Know good, as he said, and what's evil too.
But that's bad knowledg, which increaseth sorrow,
Something to day we feel, more shall to morrow;
And daily more. The good we had, is lost:
And evil we do know unto our cost.
How evil is it for us to be stript
Of innocencies robes, and to be whipt
With lash of Consciences! within are fears
Which do perplex our Spirits, in our ears
A dreadful sound is always; in our face
Marks of sin are instead of wonted grace.
With boldness now I cannot look on thee;
And how shall I with confidence then see
The face of God, whom we so much offended
After he had us both so much befriended?
Nay, how shall we upon the Angels look?
Or how will they such loathsome Creatures brook?
Let us go seek a place as dark as night,
Where we may be removed from that light
Which will our spots and blemishes discover:
For now we nothing are, but spots all over.

EVE.
Go then, I follow; for my cheeks are dy'd
Red with a blush: and first let us both hide
Some way or other those parts which do seem
Of all the most uncomely, which we deem
Most fit to be concealed. Let us sow
Broad and thick leaves together, which may go
About our middles, and so cover round
Such parts as now with shame do most abound.
For if we them with modesty do hide,
Better we may Spectators eyes abide.
With Fig-leaves we are cloath'd, but sad the story,
We fallen are down from our former glory.

ADAM.
A covering this is, but such as will
Neither secure nor beautifie; we're still
More cloath'd with shame; within we have no rest:
Oh how do frightful thoughts our Souls molest!
Deep springs of fruitless sorrow do arise,
And streams of brinish tears flow from mine eies;
In which I may be drenched all the day,
And I no hand know will them wipe away.
All things I find now in an uproar are,
All turned up-side down; my passions dare
Rebel against my Reason. That great Queen
Who was inthron'd by God, and should have been,
Sole Governess, doth now a Captive stand,
Devested of its power, at the command
Of base unruly lusts, that strive to be
Controllers unto it, masters to me.
So Understanding rules not, but my will
Scorns to obey its dictates; they both still
Bow to a bruitish appetite, and I
Can only groan under its tyranny.
For this, Eve, thee I thank; to thee I owe
All, even all the miseries I know.
Wouldst thou have kept thy place, hadst thou obey'd
Thy Husbands counsels, wouldest thou have stay'd
By me, as I advis'd, this had not been;
Such a sad case as this we had not seen.
Learn henceforth to keep home; without dispute,
Of womans wandring, mischief is the fruit.

EVE.
Be not so partial, Adam, prethee, come,
Lay not the fault on me alone; bear some
Of it thy self; it cannot be deny'd
But we between us should the blame divide.
When was that charge giv'n forth? When did God say.
Be sure that you together always stay.
I did conclude kind Heaven did us permit
Sometimes to be alone, and judg'd it fit
So to be then; and being innocent,
Thought where I would I might go, so I went.
My head thou wast; if therefore thou didst know
Mischief would follow, why didst let me go?
One positive command of thee had made
My purpose change, and me with thee have staid.
I did not, would not go without thy leave;
I had it, thou didst me permission give.
And likely 'tis, had I been by thy side,
We both had fallen, had we both been tri'de.

ADAM.
I am undone by thee, and yet must I
Be charged as cause of our misery?
By granting leave to go, I did approve
My self to thee; yet blam'd am for my love.
And is't indeed just matter of complaint,
That I on thee laid not a full restraint?
Alas! that could not be impos'd by me,
For God himself had us created free.
Advise I did, and warn'd, yea did foretel
What en'mies were abroad, and what might well
Fall out unto our hurt and prejudice
Even in this delightful Paradise.
But when I all had said, thy confidence
Was rais'd, being built on thine own innocence
And strength. But to speak fully to thee, I
Knowing thy rare perfections, did rely
Upon thy virtue; but see since that time
Errour in love may prove a fatal crime.
And henceforth may all men be warn'd by me,
And may all women too be warn'd by thee.
Husbands, away with jealousies, you must
Love wives with dearness, but not overtrust
Them with self-rule. Wives don't your selves abuse
And then your Husbands for their love accuse.

GOD.
Let all be quiet, nothing's come to pass
But what by me foreseen most fully was.
For known to me from everlasting are
My works; also the works of all that were
By me created, both Angels and Man,
All I most easily grasp with my span
Of knowledg. Had I pleas'd, I in that state
Could them confirm in which I did create.
But them to have confirm'd, did not comport
With my great Counsels. In my Supreme Court,
Many attendants stand, many to fall
I freely left, freedom I gave them all;
And strength enough, that so it might appear
Who did me truly love, who did sincere
Obedience to me yield, and all might see
Justly they cannot charge their destiny
Nor my decrees, but they themselves must blame;
For from their own free choice their ruin came.
Angels innumerable fell; though they
In Heaven were plac'd, they would not Heaven obey.
Wherefore I spurn'd them from me with disdain,
And made them know't impossible to regain
Their first estate, first habitation;
Fetter'd they lie in Hells dark region,
And in its flames they shall for ever fry;
Repentance shall be hidden from mine eye.
Their chieftain Belzebub my sworn foe,
Out of his spite to me sought to undo
Poor man, my Creature, and he hath it done,
And thinks he now of me the day hath won.
But he shall quickly know, I can outdo
His policy and pow'r, in his own bow
I can out-shoot him. It's resolv'd, I will;
And when all's done, man shall be happy still.
These broken potsherds I'le again repair,
And make them full as beautiful and fair
As erst they were. In spite of Hell, a place
For justice shall be found and saving grace.
Of man I was the Maker. When made, He
Unmade himself. Who shall repairer be?
That work I'l have accomplisht. I will not
Upon my honour suffer such a blot
As Hell design'd to cast. But I will be
Prais'd and admir'd to all Eternity.

Son of GOD.
No sooner was this said, but Heav'n did ring,
The Angels there did Allelujah sing.
But above all, Gods only Son did grace
That great assembly; in his radiant face
Pity and love did sit triumphant. He
Man dearly lov'd, pity'd his misery.
Both now were at their full, and for mans sake
His Father he approach'd, and thus he spake.
Father, I did thy resolution hear
With joy superlative; and can't forbear
Such goodness to extol with highest praise,
Which will poor man out of his ruins raise.
Should he be lost for ever, how should flame
Rise from thy Altars? What one would thy Name
Exalt? would not thy glory, Father, fade,
Should they be lost, who for thy glory made
All know? Consult thy goodness, let it shine;
Never let Hell, by frustrating of thine,
Be master of its ends. Go on, and do
What ever thine own grace doth prompt thee to.

GOD the Father.
Difference, my Son, between us there is none,
But full agreement; for we two are One.
I see my self in thee, my glory bright,
My Son thou art, in whom I do delight.
Thou liest in my bosom, and to thee
All mine eternal counsels open be.
Full well thou know'st, from everlasting we,
Mercy to man together did decree.
How sad soever matters now appear
Between us two, counsels of peace then were.
All which shall stand unshaken, for I will
My thoughts perform, my pleasure all fulfil.
All mankind sha'nt be lost. I'le offer grace,
Which when once offer'd many shall embrace;
And those that do, shall find it, and shall be
Not to themselves beholding, but to me.
Conquer at last they shall their deadly foe,
And to their God that victory shall owe.
Unto all those I will my grace impart;
On them I will bestow a gracious heart,
In which I'le write my law, and put my fear;
And so in duty they shall persevere.
Love them I will ev'n for mine own names sake;
Leave them I never will, never forsake.
Yet on mine Honour I do stand, and will
Have the world know me good, but righteous still.
For who will reverence a Deity,
If they may sin with full impunity?
Yea, man being fal'n, must his folly rue;
For if he do not, I cannot be true.
My threatning is gone forth; I said, that he
Eating should die, with his posterity.
That sentence cannot be reverst, one shall
Dye for lost mankind, or they must dye all.
Who'l pay the debts that men contracted have?
What one will dye himself, their lives to save?
Can the Angelic nature shew such love?
Will the Angelic stock sufficient prove?
I see, they all are nonplust, there is none
Of them to interpose, there is not one.
Among them all I know none is that can
Satisfie Justice, or help ruin'd man.
Both love and power enough they all do lack;
Sins weight would quickly break an Angels back.

Son of GOD.
It's too too great a work. Created pow'r
Would utmost weakness prove, in that same hour
It should engage unto't; who recompence
Can return for an infinite offence?
Such as sin is, unless he be some one
That's infinite himself, and can alone
Infinite price lay down, and th' injury
Compensate, which was done Gods Majesty?
Man himself can't do this, he hath lost all,
And is become a Bankrupt by his fall.
He might have kept the happiness he was in,
But he can never answer for his sin.
Nor can the Angels for him, though they be
Stars of the morning, high in dignity.
Their stock together put, immense may seem;
Yet were it all laid down, it can't redeem
Man from destruction: should they all be weigh'd,
And in the ballance against one sin laid,
They would be found too light. But what of this?
Because among the Creatures no help is,
Shall there be none? Though they this cannot do,
Shall wisdom infinite be nonplust too?
Shall mercy be resolv'd, yet want a way,
By which its selfe to man it might convey?
May threatned judgments oft prevented be;
But grace shall always have its passage free.
It is my Fathers glory, also mine;
By magnifying of it we shall shine
In th' eyes of all; all will Us love for this,
When they shall find with Us forgiveness is.
Therefore, O Father, be it known this day,
There shall not want one to pave mercies way,
And to remove obstructions. I will be
Saviour to man, and sacrifice to Thee.
In thy most wise eternal counsels thou
Didst me appoint Redeemer; therefore now,
Lo now I come to do thy will, and be
A Mediator between man and thee.
His debts and sins to a great sum amount;
Yet, Father, put them all on mine account.
I fully will discharge them, and will see,
By him thy glory shall no loser be.
I well this undertaking understand;
What it will stand me in, I well know, and
What brook I must drink of, before that I
Come to lift up my Head. I am the High
And lofty One, whom Seraphims adore,
And veil their faces when they'r me before;
Yet I must act low condescention,
And be made of no reputation.
Instead of glory I must take the dress
Of one that hath no form nor comeliness.
In form of God I am, and robbery
Do think it none to claim equality
With him; but yet I must a man become,
And be found in a sorry servants form.
Nay more, if I to man would bring relief,
Sorrows must my familiars be, and grief
Mine intimate acquaintance. I must be
Most sorely bruis'd for his iniquity,
For his transgressions wounded. In that day
On me thou their iniquities wilt lay.
Yet this doth not discourage, nor much more,
I have of love and bowels as great store
As thou canst have of wrath. This pleaseth me,
Full out as much as Vengeance pleaseth thee.
More thou art not displeased with his sin,
Than I am pleas'd Salvation him to bring.
Him I will draw out of the horrid pit,
And on a rock most sure I'le set his feet.
Thy Justice honour I will so secure,
As that thy Mercy shall for ay endure.
Look on me, Father, then, and take my word,
Which it's impossible for me to break, great Lord,
Thou know'st me faithful, thou dost know that I
Can upon no account my self deny.
Look then again. I here as surety stand
To pay what e're thy Justice shall demand.
Ask what thou wilt, thou canst not ask amiss,
Performed it shall be what e're it is.
Can only blood pardon procure? If so,
Rather than not a pardon, mine shall go;
My life I'le give for his, and part with all
Which I can part with. Let thine Anger fall
On me thine only Son, that burden I
Will take, to take away iniquity,
In all its guilt and power. And that I may
Be a fit object for it, in the day
Thou shalt appoint, I will to my Godhead
The Manhood joyn, and so have blood to shed.
Blood thou canst not except against, for I
As man will suffer, as God satisfie.
Let men me as a worm tread underfoot,
And laugh, and shake the head, and the lip shoot.
Let Bulls, yea Bulls of Bashan me beset,
And come like hungry Lyons me to eat.
Let me be poured out like water; and
Let all my bones as dislocated stand.
What though my heart melted must be, and I
Shall have my strength like to a potsherd dry.
What though in sorrows thou do me immerse,
And cruel ones my hands and feet will pierce:
I'le bear, yea welcome all, since thus I can
Redeem from wrath poor, but beloved Man.
Nay when I am thus brought upon the stage,
Let death it self spend on me all its rage.
Let it strike fiercely with its Iron Rod,
And then boast it hath kill'd the Son of God.
My heart is glad, my glory joys, also
My flesh shall rest in hope, because I know
My precious Soul thou wilt not leave in grave,
I incorrupt shall resurrection have.
Of life the path thou wilt me shew, to store
Of joys and pleasures, which forevermore
Are in thy glorious presence. Thus, although
I seem to yield unto that mighty foe,
By him to be devoured, yet will I
Fall like my self, and a brave Conquerour die.
My very weakness shall much stronger be
Than men and Devils, Devils and men shall see,
I at my lowest can their pride abate,
And be above them in their greatest height.
'Gainst man the hand-writing shall not prevail:
Out of the way I'le take it, and will nail
It to my Cross. All adverse powers I'le spoil,
And give to principalities the foil;
So be triumphant o're th' infernal crew,
And also of them all make open shew.
My people I will ransome from the grave,
From death I will, them all redeemed have.
O cruel death, even I thy plagues will be:
O grave, I will destruction bring to thee,
And utterly root out mine enemies;
Repentance shall be hidden from mine eies.
In death I'le fall, that death may die by me,
In grave I'le lie, that graves may sweetned be
To mine that shall come after. I my head
Will lay in dust, that dust may prove a bed
Of fragrant Roses yielding to them rest
Who by sin were ty'rd out, by world opprest.
Yea that same death which was brought in by Sin,
And was intended only to have been
A way to Hell, shall through my dying-love
For mine be made the way to joys above.
A way to Heav'n for them I will it make,
When out of grave I shall rise for their sake
As their head and first fruits: I will disarm
Death of its sting, that it shall do no harm
To mine. As victor then in triumph high
I, I will captive lead captivity.
And to my Chariot-wheels will firmly bind
All those mine Enemies, who were combin'd
Me to disgrace, mine to destroy; attend
My triumph, as slaves, they shall: when I ascend
In clouds to Heaven, and direct my course
Father, with gladness unto thee, the source
And spring of happiness, when I will sit
On thy right hand, until under my feet
My foes by thee be brought. At length I will
Descend again in state, and so fulfil
My joys and thy Decrees. Father, I'le go,
Waited upon by Angels, who shall blow,
And by their mighty breath that Trumpet sound
Whose noise shall rough the Seas, and shake the ground,
And make them both surrender up my dead,
Who with those living then shall me their Head
Follow into thy presence, where I shall
Resign my Scepter, that God all in all
May be. Father, this I'le perform, and thus
We shall rejoyce in them, and they in Us.

GOD.
None could have spoken thus, but He that is
The brightness of my glory, the express
Image of mine own person; in whom be
All the perfections of the Deity.
My Son thou art, my most beloved Son,
In whom I am well-pleas'd, mine only one.
My works I took delight in, because good;
Much more in man mine image, while he stood:
Nor am I so incensed by his fall,
As utterly to ruin him and all
Who shall of him proceed. Now he is lost,
I am resolv'd to be at much more cost
For his to be admired Restauration,
Than ever I was at for his Creation.
I made him with my word alone, but will
Ransome him with thy life, and thereby fill
Both Heaven and Earth with wonder, that I part
With thee, who art so near unto my heart.
For man's Redemption I do not care
What charges I am at, I will not spare
For cost, but freely will deliver up
Thee unto death; and mingle such a cup
For thee to drink, as never one did taste
For bitterness, and yet I will no waste
Admit of; though it wormwood be and gall,
My pleasure is, thou drink it, dregs and all.
But thine own love will sweeten it; for I
Know, for man's sake thou lovest to deny
Thy glorious self, and never wilt repine
To shed thy blood, so man may have the wine.
And as thy love doth prompt thee, so I do
Set everlasting joy before thee too,
For thy encouragement. A just regard
Shall be had to thee, and a full reward
Shall crown thy labours; thou at last shall see
Such fruit as will most fully satisfie!
Heaven and Earth shall be fill'd with thy Fame:
A Name I'le give thee above every name;
Wonderful, Counsellor, thou call'd shalt be,
A mighty God, that is, equal with me.
And what thine honour greatly will increase,
The everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.
Yea more, that Manhood, which thou shalt assume,
Shall be exalted, and with thee have room
Upon that lofty Throne, where I do sit.
For after such abasement, it is fit
Thou shouldest be exalted as a Prince
As well as Saviour; I'le never mince
Nor clip thy dues, but all the world shall know
Thee their supreme, and every knee shall bow
To thy Authority. When thou shalt rise
Out of the grave thou chusest, I in no wise
Will be unmindful of thy love to men,
Nor thine obedience unto me, but then
I thee in Heaven will with power clothe,
And in Earth too; so that thou shalt in both
Do what thou wilt, for thou wilt always be
Like to thy self, and faithful unto me.
Above thy fellows I do thee anoint
With oil of gladness, and do thee appoint
Lord over Men and Angels, 'tis my will,
Ev'n as my self they do thee honour still.
Unto thine en'mies thou shalt give thee foil,
And with the mighty shalt divide the spoil.
Supply thou shalt poor mans necessity;
And proclaim to the captives liberty;
Opening of prison-doors unto the bound,
With perfect healing to the deepest wound.
Souls weary and opprest, under thy wing
Shall comfort find, and finding, bless their King.
All that accept thee, I with pleased face
Will look upon, and cheerfully embrace
In arms of love, though they be ne'r so poor,
Yea, though they were grand enemies before.
My Glory thou design'st; and if for me
All this thou't do, what w'ont I do for thee?
Not stick at pardons sure, I have them ready
For all those lost ones, which are poor and needy
In their own eyes, and will repair to thee,
All those shall find they welcome are to me.
And when those many shall be call'd, that now
I give unto thee, when they're brought to bow
Unto thy ruling Scepter, when once they
Who called are, shall all the call obey,
And follow thee where-ever thou dost go,
In paths of Holiness; when they shall grow
Into a meetness for their purchas'd right,
The sweet Inheritance of Saints in light:
All then shall plainly see what love I bear
Both unto thee and thine. Thou shalt appear
A Judg on the Tribunal; quick and dead
Shall come before thee. Some shall hang the head
For fear and shame: But all thine at that day,
Shall lift up theirs with boldness, knowing they
Shall then receive full absolution,
With their long longed for Redemption
From sin and sorrow. Then the world shall burn,
And by that burning into ashes turn,
Losing thereby its filth; yet in no wise
Will I it quite consume, for there shall rise
Out of its ashes a new Heaven, and
A new Earth also. Both at my command
Shall spring, and both the present shall excel,
For in them righteousness alone shall dwell.
No wicked men shall there lift up the horn;
No vexing brier there, no pricking thorn:
Nothing, nothing at all, that may offend,
Or thee, or me, or thine. Nothing to mend,
No wants to be suppli'd; sorrows away
Shall vanish quite, and nothing shall allay
The sweetness of their pleasures; I will be
Their portion, and their full felicity.
For thy sake this is done; the new Creation
Shall ascribe all unto thy mediation.
Ye Angels worship this my Son, and raise
Your joyful acclamations to his praise.

ANGELS.
Ever be thou admir'd, O God above!
Ever admired this thy wondrous love!
Thou art Eternal, Infinite, thy treasures,
Like to thy Self; thy Grace beyond all measures.
Father, thou art Father of Mercies too,
All things thou mad'st, and dost all things out-do
In goodness. Thou art all invisible,
Dwelling in light that's inaccessible.
Thy Greatness, Glory, Goodness we adore,
And bless thy name, that we may stand before
Thy Throne; for 'tis our happiness to be
Always in presence of thy Majesty.
And thee we bless, thy Father's only one,
His great delight, his most beloved Son.
In whose most gracious countenance doth shine
Beauties perfection, Glory divine.
By thee all things created were, by thee
We placed were in this felicity.
By thee Rebellious spirits were cast down;
Thine was the Victory, thine be the Crown.
Heavens peace thou didst restore, & by thy might
Those en'mies were o'recome, and put to flight.
'Fore thee they could not stand, no, down they fell;
And falling down, they stopt not, until Hell
Gaping had them receiv'd, where they shall be
In flames tormented to eternitie.
For that thy mighty conquest we do sing
Praise unto thee, to thee victorious King.
We do admire that noble Act, but more
Thy glorious grace, whereby thou hast a dore
Of hope open'd to man; Thy Grace exprest
On undone Adam, now less than the least
Of mercies through his sin. That thou dost lay
His ruin to thy heart; Offer to pay
His debt, his burden bear, his sin take up,
And for his sake drink off a wrathful cup.
That thou should'st leave the Heaven thou dost possess,
And carry sins into a wilderness.
We never could have thought of this, and we
Admire it now it is resolv'd by thee.
Such love eternal obligation lays
On man. Such love transcends Angelick praise.
But what exceeds our praises, that will we
Admire thee for, Lord, to eternitie.

GOD.
Know, in their order all things shall proceed:
And since that foolish man hath done this deed;
Since Adam, made by me upright, hath sought
Many inventions out, he must be taught
By sad experience, what it is to sell
All Paradise for one tree; what to rebell
Against the God that made him. Justice now
Requires that sentence pass; and who but thou
My Son should pass it? I my self judg none;
All judgment I commit to thee, my Son.
By doing which it shall appear to all,
That to man ruined by his own fall,
Healing and saving-mercy I intend,
Not utter misery, because I send
His Friend to be his Judg, and have no other
Sentence to pass, but Him, who shall his Brother
Be one day, and Redeemer, who his blood
Will shed most willingly to do him good.

SON of GOD.
Father, thy will reveal'd is, shall be done
With cheerful readiness by me thy Son.
That so thou mai'st for ever pleased be
With me, as I am ever pleas'd with thee.
I therefore go, according to thy will,
These Criminals to judg; but I know still,
As I to judg go now, so that one day,
I must to suffer go, for thou wilt lay
On me all their offences. Of that cup
Which they but taste, I must the dregs drink up.
Yet though the worst of all on me must light,
I will, as Judg of all the earth, do right.
Justice and Mercy shall together meet,
And being satisfi'd, each other greet.
With speed all shall be done; away I go
With Angels not attended, for I do
No Witness want nor Jury; and the Sun
Almost to th' end of this days race hath run.
Evening approaches, at which time blow fair
And gentle gales of wind to cool the air,
A time fit for mans milder Judg, and he
Shall find that fury doth not dwell in me.
Where art thou Adam? what! dost thou not know
My being in the Garden? can I go
So near thee unperceiv'd? Hath not my voice
'Waken'd thine ear? and made thy heart rejoice,
As it was wont to do? it seemeth strange,
From me thou should'st absent! Is any change
In thee a cause thereof? come and impart
The matter as it is; Adam where art?

ADAM.
Lord, I thy voice did in the Garden hear,
And thereupon my soul did fill with fear.
My self I naked saw; seeing, did hide:
For being so, Lord, I could not abide
Thou should'st look on me, but away I fled
Among the thickest trees to hide my head.

SON of GOD.
Adam, my voice hath often reach'd thine ear;
As oft it was thy joy my voice to hear.
It was thy sovereign delight; and how
Comes it to be a terror to thee now?
I see indeed that thou art naked; well,
Of this thy nakedness who did thee tell?
Hast thou adventur'd to eat of that tree,
Concerning which I gave command to thee,
Eat thou should'st not?—

ADAM.
—The Woman thou did'st give
With me as my Companion to live,
Whom I did count a token of that love
Which thou to me dost bear, could disapprove
Nothing of all I saw in her, but stood
Inamour'd on her as a perfect good.
She thou did'st give, gave of that tree for meat;
And being by her given, I did eat.

SON of GOD.
Hast for thy self nothing to say beside?
Was she by me given to be thy Guide?
An help she was intended for thee, and
Fitted for such by her Creator's hand.
But know, God never did unto thee say,
Rather than me, thou shalt thy Wife obey.
He did not thee subject to her, nor none;
Him thou should'st have obey'd, yea him alone.
But, Woman, say, what is't that thou hast done?

EVE.
I was beguil'd by th' Serpent, and did eat.

SON of GOD.
Serpent, 'cause thou art guilty of this cheat,
And this hast done, there's nothing shall thee shield
From vengeance. Above every beast of field
Thou art accurst, and above cattel all.
Henceforth upon thy belly thou shalt crawl;
Yea dust shall be thy food, dust thou shalt eat,
All the days of thy life be that thy meat.
And further know, between the woman and thee
I now will put a mortal enmity,
Which 'twixt your seeds shall last. Thou shalt it feel,
Her seed shall bruise thy head, and thou his heel.
As for thee, Woman, Be it known, that I
Sorrows on thee will greatly multiply
In thy Conception; yea for this thing,
In sorrow thou thy Children forth shalt bring.
Unto thy Husband thy desire shall be;
Learn to submit, he shall rule over thee.
Now, last of all, Adam, to thee I come,
And so will end th' Assizes with thy Doom,
Which thus I do pronounce: Because that thou
Hast to thy Wifes voice hearkened, and now
Of that tree eaten hast, about which I
Said, Thou shalt not eat of it, lest thou die.
For thy sake cursed is the very ground;
Sorrows shall thence spring up, and much abound.
Out of it thou with toil shalt fetch thy meat,
And that in sorrow all thy days shalt eat,
Till thy return unto the ground thou make,
For out of that at first I did thee take.
Know thy self, Adam, that thou art but dust,
And unto it again return thou must.
All this shall be accomplish'd. But I do
Your misery behold, pity it too.
You both before me naked stand and bare,
Cover'd with shame all over; now you are
Exposed unto storms without a fence,
And to the changing-weathers violence.
My Bowels yearn to see your Poverty,
How low y'are fallen into misery.
Wherefore your nakedness I'le hide with skins.
And with my Robe of Righteousness your sins.
But now out of the Garden I thee send,
In tilling of that Ground thy time to spend,
Whence thou wast taken. Therefore now be gone,
Adam, from hence away. Eden alone
For Innocency was. A Wilderness
Will serve him well enough, whose holiness
Is altogether lost. Nor shall there be
Of return hither any Hope for thee.
For straight upon the Gardens eastern side,
I will appoint some Cherubims t' abide;
A Flaming-Sword also, which night and day
Brandish'd shall be, and turned every way,
The way unto the Tree of Life to guard,
That Man may never taste it afterward,
Unless from me. For know, that I'le give leave
And power to all who me by Faith receive;
Ev'n all that shall under my Banner fight,
And fighting overcome, I'le give them right
Of th' Tree of Life to eat, which always stood
In the midst of the Paradise of God.

ADAM.
How am I fallen! my tongue can't express
That depth of misery, which fathomless
Is to my understanding! I ere while
Had God my Friend, under whose gracious smile
With joy I liv'd, and gladly did embrace
All opportunities to see his face.
But now alas! from him I'm fain to hide,
And his approaches can no more abide.
Being from Eden thrust, where shall I flee
To seek relief in this my misery?
Creatures avoid me, or stand gazing on
Me as a monster, or man quite undone.
Having transgrest my great Creators Law,
Of me the Brutes refuse to stand in awe.
My former blessing is turn'd to a curse,
My comforts into crosses. And what's worse,
Both Sin and Curse I propagate to all
Who shall of me descend. For by my Fall
My whole race ruin'd is; They all will be
Conceiv'd in sin, born in iniquity;
Born unto Trouble, as sparks upward fly;
No sooner born, but they'l begin to dye.
Oh that I might be childless! and that God
Would put a period to this earthy clod!
And grant that in the long'd-for silent Grave,
Sense of these sorrows I no more may have.
Yet what if Death a full end should not make,
But cast me down into a burning Lake,
Where I a drop of water shall not get,
My Tongue to cool in that tormenting heat?
I tremble to think on't; The case stands so,
What thing I should desire I do not know.
Eve, from my sight be gone, make no delays,
Sorrow and indignation thou dost raise
In me when e're I see thee; get thee gone;
By thee, by thee it is I am undone.
It was thy self-conceit, thy wretched pride
Of parts and beauty, drew thee from my side.
A Serpent, and a Devil in him, were fit
Companions for thee, rather than to sit
And talk or work with me. Oh that alone
I had remain'd, and never woman known!
A Rib thou art, crooked by nature, sent
By God for comfort, but to mischief bent.
All the ingredients of future woe
To mankinds Grand-dame doth all mankind owe.
Thou Mother of all living call'd shalt be,
Mother of Death too, for that sprung from thee.

EVE.
My Lord, I have transgrest, and do with tears
Confess my fault. Oh let thy gracious ears
To my request incline; and let the heat
Of kindled wrath abate; now at thy feet
I prostrate lye. God knows, my heart is thine,
My Love, and high esteem, whate're is mine.
Through my means, true is is, thou art accurst;
But know, the Serpent hath beguil'd me first.
Dost think I would have done't, had I foreseen
What would the consequence thereof have been?
Oh! pity me, dear Adam, for I do
My crime acknowledg, and bewail it too.
And if that such intreaties might have sped,
I'd beg the punishment upon my Head
Might wholly light, and God would thee restore
To all the happiness thou hadst before.
On those terms welcome sorrow, welcom pain,
I all would freely bear, of none complain.
Be kind unto me, Adam, me forgive
My great offence, and let me with thee live.
Broken my heart is, multipli'd my fears,
My sighs consider, and observe my tears.
In this my sore distress do not me leave;
Me, a part of thy self, do not bereave
Of thine advice and aid. A look give down,
A look of love on her who is thine own.

ADAM.
Here 'tis, my Dearest, for thee; come, arise,
And those o'reflowing tears wipe from thine eyes,
Which my displeasure caus'd; alas! that is
The least effect of what thou didst amiss.
His wrath I dread whom we provoked have,
And from that wrath I gladly would thee save
By bearing all my self. I'd loudly cry,
Let Eve live in thy sight, and let me dye.
But this discourse is vain; though I am loath
To see thy miseries, yet since we both
Have sinned, both must suffer, and feel smart;
Our Judges sentence carv'd us both our part.
What then remains, but that we study do
Love to each other, how to shew it too
In all ways possible? for so may we
Somewhat alleviate our misery.

EVE.
My Lord, with thankfulness I do admire
Thy love to me, just object of thine ire.
Which great and undeserved love doth raise
Hope toward God, that we shall speak his praise.
For if man thus forgiveth, how much rather
Will he forgive, of Mercy who's the Father?

ADAM.
Most sweet these words, 'dear Consort! and my mind
Gives me, that we and ours shall favour find
In the eyes of our God. Methought there did
Great comfort lye in th' very sentence hid.
A sudden death was look'd for; but lo! He
In stead of death, only impos'd on thee
Travailing sorrows. And it's richly worth
Considering, thou Children shalt bring forth,
For all those pains; and when a Child thou hast,
Forget thou wilt all sorrows that were past.
In stead of me; our Judg did curse the ground,
Which now will grow more wild, and will abound
With thorns and thistles. Its face will be marr'd
With vexing weeds, so I must labour hard.
But sleep by labour will be made more sweet,
And I by labour shall get bread to eat.
But above all, this hath my comforts fed,
One day thy seed shall bruise the Serpents head.
On these encouragements let us both fly
Unto his mercy-seat, and there let's lye
Cover'd with shame, and drown'd with tears; let's now
Before him like poor malefactors bow.
Of this our sin let full confessions,
Mixed with fervent supplications,
Ascend before his Throne. He may relent
And mercy shew unto us penitent.
It is the only way to scape the Rod,
Humbly to seek our refuge in our God.

SON of GOD.
Father, the Sentence I have past. Thy will
And pleasure therein I did all fulfill.
Nor have I finished that work alone,
But from th' offenders took their heart of stone,
And gave them one of flesh, so that they melt,
For now the burden of their sin is felt.
Yea more, behold, they pray, and sue for grace,
Nothing will please them, but thy pleased face.
As Priest, their names upon my breast I bear,
And now an Advocate for them appear,
Presenting their requests all incens'd, and
With Intercession back them. Let thy Hand
Of Love reach out a Pardon. Let them obtain
Thy choicest favour, for my sake, again.
From those deep sighs rising from hearts opprest
And kindly broke, smell a favour of Rest.
Now that they seek thee, be thou of them found,
And where Sin hath, let Grace much more abound.
Despise them not, who unto thee do fly;
If thou dost them, thou shalt me too deny.
I will their sins for ever take away,
For their offences I by death will pay.
What is done I would not have thee undo,
Most highly it becomes thee to be true
Unto thy righteous threats. They did forsake
Thy Law, and thy Commandments did break;
And visited let their transgressions be
With Rods, and with stripes their iniquity.
Let their own wickedness correction give,
And backslidings reprove them while they live.
May they and theirs by sad experience know,
It is an evil thing, and bitter too,
That they forsook God, and made it appear,
By that departure they cast off his fear.
Yet thine own purposes of Grace fulfill,
Do thou them good, and be their Father still.
Some sign of favour give them. Let them see
That thou art reconcil'd with them in me.

GOD.
Be it, my Son, according to thy will,
Whatever thou hast spoken, I'le fulfill.
In thee I reconciled am, and can
For thy sake pardon all the sins of man.
He shall be sure to feel my smarting Rod,
Yet I will be to him a loving God.
When thou art suitor, what shall not be done?
What's too much for thy Intercession,
Which, I know, thou wilt ever live to make
With me in Heaven for poor Sinners sake?
Therefore to th' utmost thou shalt Saviour be
Unto all those that come to God by thee,
Who shall be happy. Go ye Angels then,
And Peace proclaim on Earth, Good will to men.

ANGEL.
Adam, I hither come Tydings to bring
From our and your Creator, Heavens King.
Unto thy Pray'rs he hath inclin'd his ear;
Although a sinner, thou to him art dear.
Upon thy sin Death might have seizure made;
And if it had done't, thou must have obey'd
Its summons; but behold! there's a reprieve
Which Grace hath issu'd forth, and thou shalt live
Many and many days, that thou thereby,
When e're Death comes, mai'st be prepar'd to die.
Unto thy Makers pleasure it is fit,
Having offended, humbly thou submit.
Bad will be mixt with good; thy days will be
Sunshine and cloudy; God lays out for thee
Sore trials. But of sin do thou repent,
And learn in every state to be content.
One called Abr'am shall from thee descend,
Whom God will own and honour as his Friend.
From him, in David's line, also shall spring
The promised Messiah. Zions King,
Born of a Virgin overshadow'd by
The Holy Ghost, power of the most High.
He upon David's Throne shall sit full sure,
His Kingdom shall for evermore endure.
From Gentiles he thick darkness shall dispell,
And be the Glory of his Israel.
He out of love to thee and thine will die,
And shall by Death obtain the Victorie,
Nailing unto his Cross each enemie.
But unto man by death bring peace and rest,
So that whoe're believe in him, are blest.
He judged you, and he will come at last
To judg the World, when Judgment shall be past
By him in Righteousness. And then his own
He will advance to his most Glorious Throne,
Where they shall reign in all felicity,
Without disturbance, to eternity.

Mans Hymn of Praise.

Tune our Hearts, Lord, that we may speak thy praise,
Flat they are yet, do thou them higher raise.
Affect us thoroughly. Let us admire
Thy Love, and call in help from all the Quire
Of Angels, who with wonder have all seen
How great thy goodness unto us hath been;
Who gav'st thy Son, that he might for us die;
Who gav'st thy self for our Recoverie.
How freely did'st thou stoop, when we did fall?
That we might Honey have, thou drankest Gall.
We eat the Fruit, thou hung'st upon the Tree,
Which Life brought unto us, Death unto thee.
Thy stripes our healing are, thy thorn our flower;
Thy Blood our Balsom; and thy Cross our Tower;
Thy wounds our Refuge; and thy sighs our Song;
Of thee we'l make our boast all the day-long.
Thou art the first begotten of the Dead;
Thou of all earthly Princes art the Head.
Thou loved'st us, and washt us from our sins
In thine own Blood, making us Priests and Kings
To God thy Father. Therefore we will never
Cease saying, Glory be to thee for ever.
For we, O Lord, thy ransom'd Ones shall come
Unto the Heavenly Zion as our Home,
With Songs (caus'd by that blood which thou did'st shed)
And everlasting joy upon our head.
We shall obtain all gladness in that day,
When sorrow and sighing shall flee away.

A Dialogue between Faith and a Doubting Soul.

FAITH.
What joys like those which from above descend!
They know no bounds, are strangers to an end.
My comforts overflow, I sit and sing;
The night is day to me, and Winter Spring.
While others think I want, I enough have,
My heritage is good, I nothing crave.
Come, Soul, put on a smile, chase sorrow hence;
Whence flow these tears? why is this great expence
Of deep-fetcht sighs & groans? thy Saviours voice
Should clear thy brow, & make thy heart rejoice.
Husht! dost not hear't? Salvations Captain comes
With sound of Trumpets, & with beat of Drums.
'Tis not th' alarm of War; he takes thy part,
His actions all along have spoke his heart.
For thee he did engage, he fought, and di'd,
And now triumphs. All, all makes on thy side.
Himself did tell me so; be of good chear,
Away with doubtings, and defie all fear.
Shake off these causeless dumps, arise and shine;
The victory is Christs, th' advantage thine.

SOUL.
What mine? canst prove it? thou tak'st all on trust,
And so maist be deceived, try I must,
And look, and search, examine, and enquire,
Ask question after question. Yet no higher
Can I attain than to faint hopes; which cost
A thousand thousand labours; but are lost
In twinkling of an eye. I cannot rest,
Nor lasting peace enjoy. When things are best,
I am disturb'd, my sleep scarce lasts an hour,
And when I 'wake again, Lord! what a pow'r
Of sad perplexing thoughts assault my mind?
That I conclude both Heav'n and Earth combin'd
To make me miserable. Faith, speak out,
Hast thou more cause of joy, or I of doubt?

FAITH.
Thou bid'st me speak, and yet deny'st to hear;
When I unlock my lips, thou bolts thine ear.
There are such sobs and sighs, bitter bewailings,
Such weeping, wringing hands, such loud complainings,
That all my labour's lost. Alas! my skill
In vain is tri'd, for out of meer self-will
Thou spillest all my Cordials, and wilt none
Of my choice Heaven-born comforts, no, not one.
Yet since I know thy sickness, know, I do
Both pity it, and long to cure it too.
We'l argue things once more, for I don't dread
Thy reas'nings, nor the crafty Serpents head.
My cause is good, my blessed Seconds are,
(Though thou think'st otherwise) without compare.
Enter the lists then, yet the Judg shall be
Not sense, nor carnal reason, much less he
That's stil'd God of this world; these neither can
Nor will speak comfort to poor humbled man.
The Scripture I make choice of, for it is
Divine, impartial, cannot judg amiss.
Thou canst not quarrel it; and therefore say,
Say on, dejected Soul, I'le yield the day
To Fears, if Scriptures do. Objections raise,
Thou shalt have answer, and thy God the praise.

Doubt. 1.

From the apprehension of Gods Holiness.

SOUL.
Trembling takes hold upon me, when I see
A God above of spotless puritie.
The Seraphims his glory do proclaim,
And it admire, most holy is his name.
The garnisht Heavens are unclean in's sight,
The noon-day Sun is darkned by his light.
His eyes are flames of fire, piercing and pure,
Which can't the least iniquity endure.
But I am full of sin, all over stains;
From top to toe is nought but boils and blains.
My head, heart, life with sin are over-run;
Sin I did chuse, by sin I am undone.

FAITH.
Yet there is hope: a ruin'd Bankrupt may
Set up again; the night gives place to day.
Adam his beauty lost, and by one sin
Defac'd the image God had made him in.
The Nazarite became an Ethiope,
And in himself had neither help nor hope;
Yet found both in another. God prepar'd
More lasting beauty for him, and repair'd
His Image on him, and the sinner then,
Washt from his filth, waxt fresh and fair agen.
This may be done for thee, the fountain still
Stands open for all comers; whoso will
May go and bathe his sooty soul, and so
Come forth a Creature new, and white as snow.
Thy God is holy, so is Christ, and he
Hath Grace sufficient for himself and thee;
Thy wound is not incurable; thy sore
He can so heal, that it shall run no more.
Thy Maker can, O soul, form thee anew,
Thy holy God can make thee holy too.
Nay more, by Covenant he's bound t' impart
To his a spirit right, and a new heart.
Go to him then, his faithful promise plead,
And so he will richly supply thy need.

Doubt. 2.

From Gods Justice.

SOUL.
But God is just, and will not see his Law
Broken without revenge. I stand in awe,
And dread his iron-rod. Doth he not say,
The soul that sins shall die? ah! who then may
Once hope for life, since we are sinners all,
And lost our righteousness in Adam's fall.
Behold me cloth'd with rags, once but one story
Lower than Angels, who are cloth'd with glory.
These rags are filthy too, and so the shame
Which they should cover, they to all proclaim:
I do condemn my self, though self I love:
What favour then can I expect above?
The Law hath past its sentence, it doth crie,
All men are sinners, and as such shall die.
My guilt is great, my God is just, who can
Satisfie justice, and clear guilty man?

FAITH.
I have a Friend will do't. Did I say, will?
Pardon, dear Jesus: Oh, how I do fill
With joy, since I can say, he hath it done,
And God is pleas'd with thee in Christ his Son.
Thy debt was great, empty thy purse, that friend
Became thy surety, and did put an end
To the Law-suit, by saying he would pay
What thou wast charged with, upon the day
Justice should set; and when that day came, he
Paid to a farthing, and discharged thee.
The sum was great, but his far greater love
Bogled not at it, nor did he once remove
From his resolved kindness, but hath given
What did redeem lost earth, & purchase Heaven.
He laid his life down, his heart-blood he gave,
That sparing thy blood, he thy life might save.
What more can Justice ask? surely if I
Be once arrested, I'le plead, Christ did die.
If God be not appeas'd with death of God,
I will for ever bear his flaming rod.
Besides, I spi'd white linnen in his grave,
And soon concluded that I this must have.
Christ saw me naked, and then did provide
A perfect Robe my nakedness to hide.
What more is lacking? let strict Justice see;
My Saviour saith, there is no spot in me.

Doubt 3.

From the comparatively small number of Redeemed Ones.

SOUL.
I grant there is in Christ sufficient merit
To purchase Heaven, and make his inherit
Those peaceful blissful mansions, where he
Crowns all their hopes with full felicity.
His blood can make the blackest Black moor white,
And loathsome sinners lovely in Gods sight.
Of his Almighty power doubt who can,
I do believe him God as well as man.
But what of that, I hear, the number's small
For which he died. Had he dy'd for all,
I might have fill'd with comfort. But alas!
A little part of this corrupted mass
Was chosen out for honourable use,
Vessels of glory, whom the Lord did chuse
For his Cœlestial Temple; the rest will
As worthless silver be rejected still.
My reason tells me, if he would not crie
And pray for all, for all he would not die.
I fear of his dear little Flock I'm none,
Others may saved be, and I undone.

FAITH.
Be it acknowledged, that few there are,
Whom Christ redeem'd, shall in his merits share.
He saves not all the world, dy'd not for all,
Did not alike affect Judas and Paul.
Grant that, yet do not sink, the door is ope
To all that will come, 'tis a door of hope.
Christ dy'd for sinners, why then not for thee?
Either give reason, or believe with me.
Gods Decrees secret are, and who can read
His everlasting purpose? Nay what need
Of climbing Heaven, curiously to look,
Whether thy name be written in his Book?
That is a vain attempt, that course once take,
Thy soul thou'lt wound, & work for sorrow make.
There is enough in Christ, and none shall die
But such as do not to that refuge flie.
In him are safely Arkt persons unclean,
Who grievous sinners like to thee have been.
Haste thou for shelter too. Why this delay?
O soul, it must be done. Do it to day.
Wouldst thou destroy thy self? shall black despair
O'rewhelm and drown thee, now there's such a fair
And ready passage, leading to the Ark
In which thousands of thousands do imbark,
And are conveyed to a land of rest,
Where neither sin nor sorrow can molest.
Up, up, for shame, away to him with speed,
Who's call'd a Saviour, and is one indeed.
Do but go to him, yea go at a venture,
Into his gracious presence all may enter.
He never said to any, seek in vain,
All humble seekers shall his favour gain.
His promise is, if any one will rise
And make address to him, he in no wise
Will cast him off. Flee thou unto his grace,
So he in arms of love shall thee imbrace.
None e're departed empty from him. He
Is infinitely full, full out as free.
Haste to him therefore, haste, thy days do spend;
End thou thy danger, e're thy days do end.
Put in thy sickle, reap what he hath sown;
He's not thy foe, if thou be not thine own.
The invitation is, Whoever will,
Let him come hither, and here take his fill.
If thou wilt take, then Christ will give, believe;
Stretch out thy hand, he will thy wants relieve.
He is the God of Love, then to him go,
Thou canst not ask the thing he will not do.
Others have sought and found, asked and had,
Who sinners were like thee, as old, as bad.
Their good success should ease and chear thy heart,
Christ will do his, if thou wilt do thy part.

Doubt 4.

From uncertainty of interest.

SOUL.
I question still mine interest in God,
And cannot call him Father. Mine abode
Is yet in darkness, I want light to read
Mine Evidences by. Oh! could I feed
My joys with full assurance; did I know
That God is reconciled, Christ did do
And suffer all for me, I soon would chase
All sorrow hence, and with a smiling face
Look on my dearest Lord: nothing should hinder,
His love should be the spark, my heart like tinder
Should quickly kindle, and be all in flame
With love and praises to his holy name.
Thrice happy Paul could say Christ dy'd for him,
Which fill'd his soul with joy up to the brim.
Did I know that, my comforts would run o're;
I'd sit and sing, but sigh and sob no more.

FAITH.
Dost thou desire to know it? Look within.
Is no discov'ry made? then look agen.
Beg light from Heaven when 'tis dark below;
Thou shalt know, if thou follow on to know.
Christ dy'd for all in whom he lives, make out
His living in thee, and thou needst not doubt.
If thou canst say, O Lord, my heart is thine;
Thou well maist say, O Lord, thy death is mine.
He enters no House, but he sprinkles first
The Door-posts of it with that blood which burst
Out of his precious side. That sincere love,
Which glows within thy breast, came from above,
And is a sweet reflection of that fire
And purer flame in him, and doth aspire
To its own Element; 'twill carry thee
To that blest place, where is no room for me.
Cease groundless fears, God will not him deny
That saith, Lord give me Christ, or else I dye.
Deal faithfully in thine own case, and own
With thankfulness what God for thee hath done.
Thou canst not choose but say, many a time
Christ hath himself shewn willing to be thine.
Thou dost accept him, dost not? Then all's done,
The match is made, and Jesus is thine own.
God saith, wilt have my Son? thou say'st, yea Lord,
Be it to me according to thy word;
His Love and Law also, both I would have,
His Peace without his Grace I do not crave.
I am as willing he in me should reign,
As that by him I happiness may gain.
Let this be thy return, for so shall he
Fill thee with grace, and Heaven with such as thee.

Doubt 5.

From inward Corruptions.

SOUL.
With such as me! believ't who will; I can't,
Whoever enters Heaven, sure I shan't.
Nought that defiles shall thither come; that place
Is fill'd with Glory for Souls fill'd with Grace.
But mine is stuff'd with sin, numberless evils,
Ill thoughts, affections, Legions of Devils,
Haunt and inhabit here. Lord! what a pow'r
Of lusts are crawling in it every hour!
I never set my self to look within,
But I discover filthy heaps of sin.
Did others see what I do, they with shame
And scorn would shun me; I disgrace that name
Which graceth me, Christ's holy name I bear.
Him I profess, his Livery I wear,
With him I live, his word I hear, yet feel
No yielding to him in this heart of Steel.
Filthy I was, and so am still; How can
An holy Christ dwell in so foul a man?
Sure he his habitation sweepeth clean;
There are not in his Temple heaps of sin.
Sin dies in him that liveth; therefore I
Have no true life, not finding sin to dye.

FAITH.
Sin is in thee. But is there nothing more?
There may be Grace, though of corruption store.
In midst of enemies thy Saviour reigns,
And of those enemies still ground he gains.
That mighty one hath girt his Sword to's side,
And conquering, to conquer he doth ride.
Thou feelest thy corruptions are rife,
Such feeling is a mercy, sign of life.
Dead men feel nothing, load them, load again,
They do not groan, they do not once complain.
It's well when sin doth trouble and molest,
Which did thee please; for Christ hath promis'd rest
To heavy-laden souls; nor is he slack
To take that burden off which galls thy back.
He will not pass thee by, because so ill;
Thou art the fitter for his Sov'reign skill.
A good Phisician overlooks the sound,
And goes where sicknesses do most abound.
Hate and abhor thy sins, thy self bemoan;
If sin lose love, it cannot keep the throne.
Where 'tis endear'd it lives, loathed it dies.
Christ at one time humbles and sanctifies.
As for the stirrings of thy lust, at most,
They'r but death pangs, it shall give up the Ghost.
Sampson did at his death make greatest sport.
The Devils rage grows high, when's time is short.
Be thou so wise in th' case which thou art in,
As to discern 'twixt reign and rage of sin.
What speak thy bleeding heart, & weeping eyes?
Sure this, that sin don't reign but tyrannize.
Danger of death is past, because I see
By these complainings, sin doth die in thee.

Doubt. 6.

From want of Godly sorrow.

SOUL.
Could I indeed mourn kindly, then at last
I'd think the bitterness of death were past.
Could I with weeping mingle all my drink,
Or make my bed to swim; could I so think
On my corruptions, as to dissolve
Into a flood of tears, I should resolve
My doubts, and banish fears. Were e're a vein
Of godly sorrow breath'd, 'twould ease my pain.
Then I should smile at table, rest in bed,
A bleeding heart would cure an aking head.
But mine, alas! is stupid, brawnie, dry
Will scarce afford a tear, will scarce supply
Me with desired groans; sometimes I see
My brethren furnisht with a treasurie,
Or ocean of tears. How soon can they
With laden clouds o'recast their clearest day!
One thought of Christ, or word of sin doth make
Their eyes run over, and their hearts to ake.
I can't command a drop, when they have store;
And therefore grieve 'cause I can grieve no more.

FAITH.
Poor soul! oh that thy head were waters, and
Thy chamber Bochim. Oh! that a command
Would sweetly break thine heart, and make it melt,
Feeling such sorrow as it never felt.
I wish that these dry cheeks bedew'd may be
With tears for him that shed his blood for thee.
They would be Aqua vitæ, gen'rous wine,
Quickly reviving this faint heart of thine.
Those tears would drown thy sorrow, & that rain
Would make the inward chaps to close again.
Well, take a turn upon that fatal mount
Where Christ was crucifi'd, and there recount
His pressing sorrows; there behold the Sun
Of Righteousness eclips'd, and having run
His race of life, setting at last in dark,
Wrapt up in clouds, stand still a while and hark
How deep his sighs were fetcht in that black night,
Who brought for us immortal life to light.
His soul was sorrowful, ev'n unto death.
Yet in that sorrow not the smallest breath
Of comfort reacht him; he was fain to 'bide
The rage of enemies; nay God did hide.
Men reak'd their rage, his Father too did pour
His wrath upon him in the self-same hour.
And all this for thy sin; lay that to heart,
Thou did'st transgress, and he endur'd the smart.
Dwell on these thoughts, for sure a Saviour's groan
May pierce and mollifie an heart of stone.
Repeated thoughts, that God did him forsake,
May kindly work, and cause thy heart to ake.
Since Peter wept with one cast of Christs eye,
Thou mai'st to hear him say, for thee I die.
Yet measure not repentance by thy tears.
Sorrow is deepest when it least appears.
Don't always judg of inward sorrows by
The tongue complaining, or the weeping eye.
For full-charg'd vessels frequently run least,
Through want of vent, so doth the heart opprest.
Many have words, yea tears too at their will,
Who Christ rejecting hug their Idols still.
Esau did weep, and yet could find no place
For wisht repentance, nor for saving grace.
Again, there may true Penitents be found
O'rewhelm'd with grief, with brinish tears not drown'd.
Some mens complexions are hot, and they
Buckets of water must needs want to lay
The fire that burns within, whilst others are
So full of moisture, they've enough to spare.
Grace sanctifieth, and makes better, yet
Natures defects are not suppli'd by it.
Divers affections too are in the heart,
Now one, anon another acts its part.
Thy grief once wrought, and then thou couldst have stood.
Under Christs Cross, till thou had'st wept a flood.
Holy revenge now is upon the stage,
And prosecutes with never-ending rage
The murderer, that Christ did crucifie,
And nothing but its blood will satisfie.
Despond not then, O soul, that sacred fire
Of holy anger (which shall not expire
Upon the altar of thine heart) doth dry
That dew which once upon thy cheeks did lie.
Come, dost thou feel the heavy weight of sin?
Wouldst give a world, there were not one within?
Is that thy misery, thy plague, thy sore?
Wouldst willingly offend thy God no more?
If God should bid thee ask a boon, wouldst cry,
Lord, that my soul might live; my sin might die?
Canst part with Delilah? canst Agag hew,
Thy Kingly-darling-lust, canst bid adieu
To all the Idols of thine heart? then he
Who dy'd for sinners, also dy'd for thee.
That sense of sin, those inward pains that cause
A man to loath himself, yield to Christs laws,
The Gospel calls enough. Do thou not cover
One of thy sins, God will them all pass over.
What e're is wanting in thy tears, Christs blood
To th' utmost will supply, and make it good.
Huge mountainous transgressions of man
Small rivers cannot hide, but th' Ocean can.

Doubt 7.

From spiritual unfruitfulness.

SOUL.
But my heart is a barren soil: that lays
My comforts dead; did I fill up my days,
Place and Relations; ah! did I find
A fruitful soul, I should not faint in mind.
I cannot weep, yet if my work went on,
Were this my straitned heart enlarg'd to run
The ways of Gods Commandments, then my peace
Would like a river be, and still increase.
Abundant fruits of holiness would be
Proofs of my love to God, Gods love to me.
God justly doth expect from every one
Returns of love and duty. There is none
Deserves a servants name, unless he do
Perform the work his master sets him to.
God likes not idle drones, that drink and eat
At others cost, and live on others sweat.
His people are industrious, and can say,
Lord we our work have finisht in our day.
Whereas mine lieth dead upon my hand,
While time flies swiftly, I do idle stand.
Many commands before me present are,
But where's obedience? if I compare
My life with God's law, I most plainly see,
Of much that should, little is done by me.
I stand and wonder at my Masters cost,
Then sit down sighing, when I think all lost.

FAITH.
Suppose it true, that little fruit is found
Upon thy branches; thou dost not abound
In service; though thy reck'ning-day doth haste,
Yet days for working do run out to waste.
The best of servants oft have cause to say,
I have not done a days-work in a day.
But what's thy duty now? sure not to throw
All hope away, and utterly undo
Thy precious high-born soul by black despair;
Rather mend former faults by future care.
Is one day gone, and yet its work not done?
Then if thou canst, do two days work in one.
And having been too too remiss before,
Double thy diligence, and strive the more.
Didst sleep away thy golden morning hours?
Then in the afternoon call up the pow'rs
Of soul and body, working each amain,
Not leaving till thy losses thou regain.
This doth become a Christian, not to sit
Doubting and drooping only in a fit
Of Melancholy, which his comfort kills,
And him with spiritual distempers fills.
But is't a just charge which thou dost put in
Against thy self, poor soul! O do not sin
In false-accusing; act not Satan's part
To make him all the sport, thy self the smart.
Let the best laden branches hang the head.
Be thankful for some fruit, the tree's not dead
That hath one cluster. Though more would do well,
Out of that one thou mai'st a blessing spell.
Acknowledg what thy God to thee hath been,
And overlook not thy returns to him.
Thankfully own receipts of Grace; withall
Do not disown thy gracious acts, though small.
There's no day thou dost all thy work; but pray
Dost not do something for God ev'ry day?
Canst thou pass one without an holy thought,
And thankful mindfulness of him that brought
Thee up from th' womb? canst for the world be free
Without some intercourse 'twixt God & thee?
Tell me the truth; where hast bestow'd thy love,
Unless upon thy dearest friends above?
Whom dost desire? whose absence dost bemoan,
Like that of God, who is thine only one?
In Ordinances thou dost most delight;
And would'st do all thy duties with thy might.
Now springs a sigh, then drops a pearly tear;
Here's grief for sin, longings for God be there.
Call this good fruit; thou hast not barren been,
Something thou findest, more remains unseen.
All Saints do not improve alike; some yield
A larger crop than others. Every field
Bears not an equal burden. Some Saints prove
More fertile than their Brethren, and their love
Being stronger is more active; ne'rtheless
Not one doth know a total barrenness.
The Father purgeth every branch that is
Truly in Jesus, so that none doth miss
Wholly of bearing. And if now small store
Of holy fruit, there may next year be more.
Besides thou readest, Christians life is hid;
So are their vital acts sometimes. Who did
Discover ought in David, while the fall
Of leaf was on him: ah! how sadly all
His graces lay for dead! the sap in's root
Yet rose again, and brought forth precious fruit.
Be not discourag'd, God will not despise
A day of small things. In his gracious eyes
Blossoms are acceptable; if there be
One little cluster, Oh! how sweetly he
Doth smile upon it! 'tis his holy will,
It should not be destroyed, because still
There is a blessing in it. If God do
Own poor beginnings, see thou own them too.

Doubt 8.

From want of Growth.

SOUL.
Where grace is true, it thrives. The rising Sun
Doth with a swift incessant motion run,
Until he reacheth the Meridian.
At last the tender Infant is a man.
Thus 'tis in nature, thus in grace; the way
of just men shineth to the perfect day.
At first they live, after they lively grow,
Add grace to grace till they a fulness know.
From strength to strength they do advance, until
They before God appear in Zion-hill.
They flourish in his holy Courts, and do
Improve in youth, and in their old age too.
The outward man is subject to decay,
But th' inward man's renewed day by day.
So should it be with me, who sit and feed
At a full table, where I nothing need.
Yet though I keep my meals, and eat my fill,
There's cause to cry, Ah Lord, my leanness still!
I have the Sun-shine, and the fat'ning rain
Of Gospel-Doctrine, but yet nothing gain.
I suck the flowers of truth, thereby to thrive,
Yet carry little honey to my Hive.
Others began since me with Heaven to trade,
Better advantage yet by far have made.
When I my spiritual strength or stock do trie,
I do at first weakness and wants espie.
Look what an one I was sometime ago,
Just such I am; my Stature's very low.
My hand of faith yet trembles, and mine eye
Sees very dim, the Gospel mysterie
I can scarce peep into; my love is chill.
My patience hardly brooketh any ill,
My zeal for God is cold. Flat my desire.
My heart is ice, which should be all on fire.
Thus it was formerly, thus it is now,
I am but what I was, and do not grow
Which want of progress makes me sadly fear
I am not what to others I appear.

FAITH.

Doubt 9.

From wandring Thoughts.

SOUL.
Another vexing thorn and pricking briar
Is, that my fluttering mind can mount no higher
In holy duties. When I up would flie,
Upon the earth my heart doth groveling lie.
Or if sometimes it be upon the wing,
It doth not stay above; but every thing
Allures it down again. Trifles divert
This foolish, worldly, and unstable heart;
And draw it from Gods service, when I'd fain
Keep close to him. There is cause to complain;
Evil is present with me when I wou'd
Walk with my Father, and do what is good.
My reason tells me, One present with God
Seeing his Scepter, and his Iron-rod;
One that such mercies hath humbly to crave,
As that God pardon would, accept and save.
One that 'doth see the sinfulness of sin,
And doth desire to conquer all within.
One that doth know the plague of his own heart,
And hath been made to feel its dreadful smart.
One that hath looked down into the deep,
And fears his own damnation doth not sleep.
One that for life prays, and cœlestial pleasure,
With endless glory, should not be at leisure
Any divertisements that time to own,
He from such weighty work should not come down.
But my inconstant spirit's drawn aside
By every fawning trifle; can't abide
To stick to serious work, or dwell upon
Its own concerns by meditation.
Though to a boiling heat my heart be wrought;
Yet even then many an idle thought
Will bubble up: In midst of fervent cries,
A filthy and most lothsome scum doth rise.
Methinks, when I most gladly do repair
To hear Gods Word, 'tis pleasant to be there;
That duty's my delight, fain would I sit
A daily Learner at my Saviour's feet.
All earthly business I lay by, and go
Where I may know him whom 'tis life to know.
But while my greedy ear to him I bow,
My heart is stoln away I know not how,
Carri'd I know not where, but moan my cross
In fullest chase to find my self at loss.
So when in sense of sin or want I pray
And put up my petitions, I lay
Strict charge upon my soul to go along,
And with affections to back my tongue.
But a temptation comes, and knocks at dore,
And then my fickle heart will pray no more.
Up then it gets, and strait away doth run,
Its heat is spent before my suit is done.
What ground is there for hope I prosper may,
When frequently in prayer I don't pray.
I greatly fear, my heart from wickedness
Is not yet washt, since vanities do press
Continually into 't, and quickly find
Most ready welcome with my vainer mind.

FAITH.
Christian, this ev'n thy soul-distempers speaks;
'Tis sure, thy heart hath too too many leaks,
Which sacred things let out, and then let in
Satans suggestions, the world, and sin.
All is not as it should be, in this life
Grace will imperfect be, corruptions rise.
Mourn therefore that this Cabinet of thine
Framed by Gods own hand for things divine,
And to be fill'd with Christ and Grace should be
Thus stufft with dross, and dung, and vanitie.
Our souls our glory are, on purpose made
To carry on a never ceasing trade
With Heaven, and upon their God attend,
Like Angels in his presence without end.
Grieve then that thine thus should the Lacquey play
On every toy that summons it away.
Let mourning upon wanderings attend,
Sadly bewail what yet thou canst not mend.
But be not out of heart, these spots are seen
On Gods own children, that have washed been
In Christs most precious blood. All of them do
Hate wandring thoughts, and yet they have them too.
That soul which upon Christ is fixt in love,
May in its duties often fluttering prove.
Wandrings either from carelesness procede,
Or unto them meer weakness doth thee lead.
If carelesness be cause of them, thy God
Will visit for them with a smarting rod.
If they arise only from weakness, he
Will never charge those failings upon thee.
He is a Father, with loves mantle can
Hide multitudes of such in humbled man.
The child is troubled with a Palsie, and
Cannot hold fast what he hath in his hand.
His Father is not angry with him sure,
But first him pities, then looks out for cure.
God is a Father too, none such, and so
Accepteth what thou dost with weakness do.
Know further, this is not thy case alone,
On this side Heaven of all the Saints there's none
But will with sadness say, Just so am I:
This is the burden under which I lie.
When they mount upward unto God, they feel
Their weaker minds all on a sudden wheel,
And downward rowl again. Though Heaven be
Their Element, place of felicitie,
Yet like to fishes in the water, they
E're and anon frisk out in wanton play.
Then do not with despair thy self bemoan,
Thy case is sad, but not thy case alone.
Let that be thy support, in misery
It is some comfort to have company.
Further, I know, as vanity doth mix
With thy best duties, when thou wouldest fix
Only on God, and bid'st all things be gone,
That thou mai'st please thy self with him alone;
So as these cheating vanities do steal
Some of thy precious time; thy soul doth feel
(In midst of this incroaching worlds affairs
Which fills thy mind with many thoughts and cares,)
Secret withdrawings of thine heart from all,
Holy ascendings at thy Father's call.
As there are heavy weights that do depress
And bear thee down in solemn services:
So there's a mighty principle of love,
Which sweetly carrieth thy soul above.
When other things needs would it here detain,
Upon that mighty wing it flies amain.
And when 'tis fetter'd with the world, what smart
Dost feel until (those fetters broke) thou art
Again restor'd to spiritual libertie,
And made for holy meditation free.
If Satan and the world have crouded in
To Church and Closet, cheer up, God hath been
With thee in house and street. This wandring heart
Out of its six days hath carv'd God apart.
As in thy purest manchet there is leaven,
So in thy daily bread there's some of Heaven.
But since, O Soul thy stay with God is short,
See that to him thou frequently resort.
Do not thy thoughts with him abide? be sure
Long absence from him thou do not endure.
Thy head indeed is weak, thy grace not strong,
Pray therefore oft, because thou canst not long.
While others visit once, do thou go twice;
Thy falls are frequent, frequent be thy rise.
Thy duties interrupted are, this do,
Piece duty unto duty, mend all too.
Since all thy lambs are blemisht, without fail
Of all thy flock offer to God the male.
And since thy thoughts wiil from thee often part,
Be sure in all thy work there be thy heart.
And know, this weakness shall be cur'd, God will
Give thee of fellowship with him thy fill
When once thou com'st to Heaven, thou shalt be
Fixed upon him to eternitie.
He that is thy desire and thy delight,
Shall minded be, and serv'd with all thy might.
Thy thoughts and thy affections shall come
And dwell on him their everlasting home.
Thine enemies shall all away be flown,
Temptation there sha'nt be, corruption none.
Thine heart shall then be rais'd, and no more fall
To earth or sin, God shall be all in all.
Grieve not too much, though here thou wander still,
Thou shalt not wander, when up Zion-hill.

Doubt 10.

From fear of Apostacy.

SOUL.
I know if I were there, I soon should be
Eas'd of these loads, and from corruption free.
No Devil's there to tempt, sin to perplex,
No clog to hinder, Canaanite to vex.
All is serene and pleasant, all delight;
Withdrawings there are none, no clouds, no night.
There sights of God are clear, communion sure,
Uninterrupted, always to endure.
But I uncertain am, and sadly fear,
I shall my labour lose, and not come there.
Heaven I mind for Gods sake, 'tis the scope
Of all mine actions, yet I dare not hope
At last to reach it; no, I may fall short,
And be the Angels scorn, and Devils sport.
Experience tells me, if at any time
I plead a title, and call glory mine,
Strait I receive a check, because it is
So difficult to get, easie to miss.
I have indeed been walking in the way;
That thither leads, some steps I take each day.
I for salvation pray, and wrestling groan,
Resolved not to let my God alone
Until he bless me. Prayer is the thing
That to me doth my sweetest comforts bring.
Unto the Church I go, the Word I hear,
As 'tis Gods Word, with reverence and fear.
I daily stand upon my guard, and do
Watch against sin, as my most mortal foe:
I put on all my armour, and maintain
A constant war with all, thereby to gain
The victory at length over each one,
And sit triumphant on my Saviour's throne.
I labour with my might, if so I may
Commended be by God another day.
I make what haste I can, that so I might
Reach safely to my Father's house by night.
By this means I have got near Heaven, and
From Pisgah can look to the holy land.
But what of this? many an one hath lost
All his profession, his pains and cost.
Not only buds are nipt, which tender are,
But lovely blossoms, which did promise fair,
Are blasted with the cold and winds. Nay more,
Oft have I seen the earth thick sown with store
Of fruit near ripe, which in a Summers morn
A furious tempest hath blown down with scorn.
Many a stately Ship, the owners pride,
Backt at its setting forth with wind and tide,
Hath swiftly plow'd the Main, and safely past,
Trading from Port to Port, until at last,
It doth return rich fraught, and every one
Sweetly discourseth of his long'd for home,
And Wife, and Children, with his Friends, that do
Long every whit as much to see him too:
The Mariners conclude their danger o're,
The Merchants smile, & dread their loss no more;
Yet near the Haven it is cast away,
And by the mighty waters made a prey.
When all thought with success their labour crown'd,
The Ship is sunk, goods lost, and Seamen drown'd.
With many in Religion thus it is,
Who aim at Heaven, but of Heaven miss.
Their lives are blameless, & their hopes are high,
Yet when their days are done, their hopes do die.
To day they think all well; but on the morrow
Death summons them, & down they lie in sorrow.
Thus did the foolish Virgins at last get
Unto the Bridegrooms chamber-door, and yet
No entrance could obtain. This was their doom,
I know you not, depart, here is no room
For such as you. Pack, pack out of my sight,
Your vessels want their oil, your lamps their light.
The young man went a great way, and got near
To Heaven, but fell short, and ne're came there:
Admir'd the progress, terrible the falls
Have been of some professed Saints, which calls
Loudly on all to fear, lest in the close
Of all their labours they their labour lose.
Of such why may not I, poor I be one,
Who after all their doings are undone.
Such are the workings of mine heart, I do
Watch daily, ply mine oar, and tremble too.
I have made fair beginnings, but do fear,
Unto the end I shall not persevere.
Some weight may press me down, some sin beset
And with ease master my affections, get
A conquest over me, clap on its chain,
From which I never may get loose again.
As yet I do proceed as I began,
But may be driven back by fear of man.
My zeal now seemeth hot, but cool it may
Upon the sight of Lions in the way.
And how shall I appear? or with what face
Can I look upon God? if in this race
I tire or turn my back; since it is sure,
Apostate Christians he cannot endure.
Better it had been never to have known
Pure ways of righteousness, than to disown
And leave them afterward; none sink in Hell
Deeper than those fall from a Pinacle.
Many from thence have tumbled, why not I?
Whose head is weak, whose standing slipperie.
Who every foot am ready to turn o're,
Religion to throw up, and do no more.
The footmen weary me, what shall I do,
When I am call'd to run with horsemen too?
If in a land of peace I fainted have,
How shall I live on Jordans swelling wave?

FAITH.
Apostacy indeed's a dreadful evil,
Transforming man into an ugly Devil.
Blind Turks and Heathens jewels are, if we
Compare them with those that Apostates be.
Hells first-born these are, Satans eldest sons,
And shall receive their double portions
Of plagues and miseries; God will repay
In punishment their falshood at that day
Which he appointed hath, when for what's done
By men, he men will judg by Christ his Son.
Oft these are found within the Churches line;
Oft seeming sheep have proved sordid swine.
Some that were thought furnisht with oil enough
To feed their lamps, have ended in a snuff.
Some that seem'd orient stars of light do fail,
And down are drag'd by th' fiery Dragons tail.
Demas forsook that Paul he followed;
Shewing thereby, he only borrowed
The Christian name himself a while to grace,
Which done, he did the flattering world embrace.
But know the fruit which falls, though 'twas before
Lovely in skin, was rotten at the core.
Members that seem'd alive, and now are dead,
Never united were to Christ the head.
Hangby's they were, and base pretenders, who
Mystical union unto Christ ne'r knew.
False grace is always failing grace; the sound,
Instead of failing shall still more abound.
Not that this holy firmness doth proceed
Or spring from natures power in Abra'ms seed,
Or from the grace in them, that's but a creature,
And might be master'd soon, were not a greater
And alsufficient strength by God put out,
Which doth maintain their ground, prevent their rout.
Even Peters faith had fail'd, had not Christ pray'd
And also secretly afforded aid.
Saints eminent (if God withdraw his hand
For one poor moment from them) cannot stand.
Should he with-hold his influence, they die;
Should he leave them, they soon would him deny.
Angels themselves would fall, but that they be
By grace confirm'd in their felicitie.
Much more would Adam's seed, who have within
Back-sliding principles, and seeds of sin.
They soon would God forsake, and soon undo
The Cov'nant made to love and serve him too.
The root they do not bear, the root bears them,
They are both holy Saints, and sinning men.
Undone thou soon wouldst be, if God should take
Away his Spirit, and thy soul forsake.
By thine own strength, O man, thou dost not stand;
But thy dear Father is at thy right hand,
Holding thee up, and he will carry thee
In arms of love to blest eternitie.
Thy Cistern leaks, but it shall not be dry,
Because the upper springs will send supply.
Dangers and clouds shall vanish; God shall be
An everlasting Sun and shield to thee.
Consider in how much thou Christ hast stood,
Not one whit less than his most precious blood.
For thee his Head with thorns was crown'd, his side
Was pierc'd, for thee he sweat, he bled, he di'd.
And will he cast away a soul, that cost
So great a price as this? shall that be lost
Which he prefer'd before his life? no, he
Will be his purchas'd Saints securitie.
His own thou art, with thee he will not part,
Who once didst cost his blood, still hast his heart,
Thou art a member of his body, one
Part of his fulness, and he'l part with none
Of them or that, but will them save and love;
Christ will not be a maimed Christ above.
Nay more, he stands oblig'd. His Father gave
A people to him, that he might them save.
He is accountable for every one:
Must raise them all at last day, losing none.
Yea, and in such a state he must them raise,
As they may be unto his name a praise.
Now in pursuance of his Father's will,
He that hath always kept, will keep thee still.
And therefore he hath promis'd to impart
His fear unto thee, and write in thine heart
His sacred law, that though thou mai'st be tri'd
With fierce assaults, none of thy steps may slide.
He in himself hath laid up all thy store,
And if thou little hast, he'l give thee more.
Adam thy father had a pow'r to stand,
Which pow'r was wholly plac'd in his own hand,
But he did quickly lose the stock that was
Committed to him; hence Christ will not pass
All thine estate to thee at once, lest thou
Run out of all, and prove a beggar too.
Himself thy fulness is, and therefore sure,
He being rich, thou never shalt be poor.
So poor as to depend, thou still shalt be,
But never know undoing povertie.
Eden was once indeed fill'd with more grace,
Or rather holiness, yet that sweet place
Was never so secure, as is thy Ark,
Thy floating little cock-boat now; for mark,
God is its skilful Pilot, constant stay,
Who by his spirit steereth night and day
Its course; upholding, strengthening thee likewise,
When tempests rage, & threatning waves arise.
Thus chear thy self, when thou dost fear to fall,
Remembring God will be thine all in all,
Thy rock and refuge, thy treasure and guard,
Who keepeth for thee constant watch and ward.
His eye doth neither slumber, nor once sleep,
He keepeth Israel, and thee doth keep.
He is no land of darkness, barren heath,
His everlasting arms are underneath.
He knows full well when ought would thee annoy;
Will always be thy comfort and thy joy.
Do thou thy duty, and then know that God
Will with his staff support thee, with his rod
Will guide thy steps, until at last thou be
Above a sinning possibility.

Doubt 11.

From Satans Temptations.

SOUL.
If God my keeper were, I should not doubt
My spiritual safety, nor my holding out.
Mine enemies should fall, and I should be
At peace, because in full securitie.
Jachin and Boaz I'd my pillars call,
Did God make his Salvation my wall.
The Lion should not rend, nor Serpent bite,
Because he watcheth his both day and night.
But sure the Lord hath left me, for I feel
The Serpent always nibling at my heel.
I now am walking in a wilderness,
Where Lion's always roaring more or less.
Hardly a day doth pass, nay scarce an hour,
But Satan doth assault me with his power.
With utmost rage the mighty gates of Hell
Assault and storm my crazie Cittadel.
And how is't possible, poor I should be
An equal match for such an enemie?
What may a worm do? what resistance can
Be made by foolish weak and naked man?
Alas, I quake and tremble every hour,
Expecting when he will my soul devour.
Now he doth play with me, and my fears feed
His mirth; me at his pleasure he can lead
An helpless captive, hurrying me to sin;
He can me post to th' torments he is in.
Great is his strength, and numberless his wiles,
Many his famous conquests, trophies, spoils.
Run through the world, sinners & Saints compare,
You'l see, the greatest part falls to his share.
Here he hath spread a net, there set a gin,
Thousands of thousands are intrapt therein.
Of men, the most he orders at his pleasure,
His sport he makes them, when he's most at leisure.
He knows and is assur'd they are his own;
If but a bait be laid, the work is done,
They'r caught, his hook sticks, and they caanot free
Themselves from sin, nor him, nor misery.
Lord of this world he is, whom they adore,
Fear him they do, and yet they love him more.
Nay, he'l encounter any, he fears none;
But counts himself a match for ev'ry one.
Those that are built on the eternal rock,
And stand immovable, have felt his shock.
Experience tells us, that those Saints who be
Strongest in grace are not temptation free.
Adam in Paradise (though perfect, and
Armed with strength sufficient to withstand
All foreign force, and bravely keep the field)
Was set upon, and set upon did yield.
So did this subtle enemy undo
A world of men in one man at a blow.
That first attempt succeeded to his heart;
Since, he is grown a master in the Art
Of tempting; at the first he had his will;
Six thousand years have much increas'd his skill.
That victory did flesh him, ever since.
He is courag'ous, bids fear get it hence.
He set on David, Joshua the Priest
(When in Gods presence) found he had not ceast
From troubling Saints. Although Job did outshine
All men on earth that lived in his time,
He could not be at quiet. This foul Fiend
Desir'd on him his sharp'ned darts to spend.
Paul was a valiant champion, yet still
On him the Devil needs would try his skill.
He had his buffets, and in's flesh a thorn;
And had not help come, had been overborn.
Saints then he troubles, and of all there's none
Reacht Heaven but through sore temptation.
Yea, as he hath defi'd the blessed Host
Of great Jehov', so he can likewise boast
Of his assaulting Christ their chief; he did
Not only bruise the heel, but strike the head.
This beast of prey hath set upon the sheep,
And on the shepherd too that doth them keep.
And what, shall I, fighting with such a foe,
Hope to make good my ground, & worst him too?
Shall I victorious be, and cause to flie
Those troops of Devils that in ambush lie,
And have a party too in mine own breast,
By which I am continually opprest?
Mine own corruptions do me betray
To their temptations oft ev'ry day.
How can it be, that I who thus beset
Am with such en'mies, should the conquest get?
I can't believe it, for it cannot be:
The strength of Hell and sin's too strong for me.

FAITH.
Be of good courage, dread not Satans might,
By Christ thou listed art, resolve to fight.
He of Salvation the Captain is:
Do what he bids, thou canst not do amiss.
Put on thine armour, man, one piece and other,
From head to foot it will thee safely cover.
Only there is no back-piece: such as flie
Lose their defence, then either fight or die.
Gird on thy sword, and Faith take for thy shield,
So shall the Devil flie, thou keep the field.
Hath he his trophies by him? doth he tell
Of captives he hath led in chains to Hell?
Hath he near fill'd his prison? and made sure
Of thousands that did think themselves secure,
And out of gun-shot? what! doth he recall
To mind with triumph, David's, Peter's fall?
Remember how Goliah did defie
Israels army; but proud fool did die
By a young striplings hand; a little stone
Did turn his vapours to a dying groan.
And in thy fainting-fits remember how
Blaspheming Rabshakeh did brave it too;
With a profane foot on the holy land
By fair Jerusalem's walls he did stand
Crying, Where are the gods of Hamath? where
Ivah's and Sepharvaim's gods? were there
Any of them could my great power withstand,
Or keep Samaria from Assyria's hand?
But what of that, one Angel in one night
Did near Two hundred thousand slay outright.
All were dead corpses, when next morn men rose,
And so in fear away Sennacherib goes.
That God who thus the pow'rs on earth did quell,
Knows how to do the same to th' gates of Hell.
Poor weaklings have through him stood out the shock,
And being built on the eternal Rock,
Laugh'd Beelzebub to scorn; assisted by
Christs strength, babes win the day, and make him flie.
Cedars have tumbled, when a bruised reed
Hath stood unbroken. The immortal seed
Once sown, shall root & grow, though Satan fain
Would be at work to pick it up again.
The first of Creatures he did make to fall;
But the new Creature shall stand after all;
Yea, after all's attempts, and shall at length
With triumph say, My soul th'ast trod down strength.
In mad Bravadoe he did Christ engage,
But thereby lost his pow'r, though not his rage.
He of his Holiness long'd to bereave him,
But when his worst was done, was forc'd to leave him.
And then was vanquisht, spoil'd; see, see his loss,
Which openly was shewn upon the Cross.
E're since the Lion's muzzl'd, roar he may,
But cannot make the meanest Saint his prey.
With his own filthy swine he may be bold,
He there hath leave, but must not touch the fold,
Nor seize a lamb thereof; or if he dare,
Our watchful David in his tender care
Steps in and makes a rescue. Jesus will
Be, as his name imports, a Saviour still.
David his Type appointed was to keep
And tend his aged Father Jess's sheep,
A Lion and a Bear to thin his stock,
Did take a tender Lamb out of the flock;
Then David kill'd the Lion, slew the Bear.
A greater far than David, Soul, is here.
David thy Shepherd is, the mighty God,
Who in his hand carrieth an Iron rod,
With which he can in pieces break with ease
Any devourer that his Lambs would seize.
Thou mai'st be tempted, Satan is not ty'd
From worrying thee; Gold in the fire is tri'd;
And so is Grace, the more thou hast, the more
Will Satan envy thee; thy well-known store
Doth tempt him thee to plunder, and to cheat:
'Twas Peter he would winnow as the wheat.
But Christ thy Captain hath him in a chain;
When he gives him a Link, he can again
At pleasure draw him in, and shut him up
In his own proper place, and make him sup
On flames of wrath, when he had thought to dine
And feast himself on this poor soul of thine.
Under authority he is, can't go
One step without permission, cannot do
Ought without leave from Christ, who is so dear
Over thine interest, thou need'st not fear.
Engage thou never dost, but he stands by,
Ready to help in thy necessity.
When Peter wounded was, and going over
Unto the en'mies tent, Christ did recover
Him with one gracious look; so did he save
His precious soul, and kept him from the grave.
This he will do for all that do him own,
Of those the Father gave him, he'l lose none.
For he hath promised, that they shall be
Crowned at last with happy victorie.
Wherefore the combat do thou not refuse.
For God thy God this enemy shall bruise
Under thy foot, and when his worst is done,
By the Lambs blood thou shalt him overcome.
And as a conquerour in Heaven dwell,
When this dire foe shall be confin'd to Hell.

Doubt 12.

From Afflictions.

SOUL.
I'le name but one thing more which doth create
Perplexing thoughts, and very much abate
The vigour of my joy, who fain would grace
My high profession with a smiling face.
Afflictions manifold attend upon,
Just as its shadow, pure Religion.
With inward gain is joined outward loss;
Before a Crown we must expect a Cross.
Disciples must stoop down and take it up,
Pledging their Saviour in his bitter cup.
All things uncertain are under the Moon;
These comforts quickly spring, wither as soon.
Estates are bubbles, broke as soon as blown,
We hardly know what thing to call our own.
Job was a great man, did not want for ought,
And yet was quickly to a dunghill brought.
Poor Jonah in his gourd did much delight;
But Jonah's gourd was blasted in a night.
All are uncertain, Saints more so, who stand
Compast with enemies on ev'ry hand,
And when for nothing they deserv'd the rod,
Have suffer'd for the matters of their God.
Because to their Religion firm they stood,
Home they have been sent through a Sea of blood.
Walk through the world, in ev'ry place you'l find
The men of earth against the Saints combin'd;
Consult the Ages past, and read their story,
You'l see Gods children went through shame to glory.
And 'tis not easie for us to deny
Our life, our peace, or our prosperity.
The young man at this stumbling-block did fall,
He'd rather part with Christ, than part with all.
And many have at first fairly set out,
Who, when the storm waxt great, have tackt about.
Christ they esteem'd far less than an Estate,
And would not have him at too dear a rate.
Christ and pleasures are good, Christ & earth too,
But they thought Christ alone would never do.
Now who can tell, what we may meet before
Our journey ended is, and time no more?
Though now we fallow lie, yet plowers may
Make long their furrows on our back one day:
And in those furrows may, my little store
Of seeming-grace be buried, rise no more.
If God should leave me, ah! how soon should I
Desert his cause, and from my colours flie.
In Sun-shine-days 'tis nothing not to fear,
And challenge enemies when none appear.
It's nothing to be good, when seeming so
Brings credit with it, and preferment too.
Who would not hug a Christ, when hugging him
We may in Pleasures river daily swim?
But it is difficult for one to crie
Hosanna, when Rulers say, Crucifie.
To bear a Cross for Christ, and all forego
Rather than shipwrack Faith and Conscience too.
To be disgrac'd, a beggar, nay to die
Of deaths the worst, rather than him denie:
This, this is hard, and calls for greater store
Of Grace than I have, though I had much more
Than yet I have. The very thought doth pinch;
Sure when I come in traces I shall flinch
And break the yoke, and he that doth not bear
Christs heavy Cross, his Crown shall never wear.

FAITH
Why troublest thou thy self about the morrow?
The present day is big enough with sorrow.
Dangers at distance are the worst by far;
They lose their terrours as they nearer are.
A Lion's not so fierce as he is painted;
We sufferings may like, when once acquainted.
Such as in corner sit by fire-side,
Say, weather's cold, and who can it abide?
But when they once are up, and out, they find
The day befriends them more than did their mind.
Such is the present case, persons at ease
Count flea-bites, symptoms of some sad disease.
Nothing more certain is, than thou shouldst be
Ready to part with all for God, when he
Calls thee unto it, no enjoyment shou'd
Sever thee from his love, no, not thy blood.
But possibly thou shalt not thus be tri'd;
God in the hollow of his hand may hide
Both thee and thy concernments; thou mai'st have
A sweet and easie passage to thy grave.
He in his Chambers may thee hide, and then
Safe thou shalt be from all the rage of men.
When storms abroad, thy Halcyon-days shall last
Until the Indignation's overpast.
Yet grant, that he in wisdom number out
Afflictions to thee, compass thee about
With gall and travel; know that he can roul
In sugar bitter pills, lay in thy soul
With such surpassing joys, as thou shalt be
Even in Heaven, whilest in misery.
Men can no further reach than th' outward part;
He can by speaking peace ravish thy heart.
Of crosses the world hath not half such store
As God of comforts; for he can do more
To chear thee in an hour, than all the rage
Of enemies to trouble in an age.
He can with grace so fortifie thy heart,
So shed his love, as thou shalt not depart
From him, nor from his ways, his power can
Perfect the work of grace it once began.
And will he stick at either? surely no,
He'l bare his arm, and broach his comforts too.
If thou shouldst lose thy land, silver and gold,
He will to thee restore an hundred-fold.
If for his sake thou have a thousand foes,
He, he alone will far out-number those.
When all these Stars are darkned, that Sun will
By his resplendent beams make day-light still.
If thou imprison'd be, he at that time
Will carry thee into his house of wine,
And feast thee richly there, so in a trice
Turn thy dark dungeon into Paradise.
So he hath done for others, who have found
Sweet unseen consolations most abound.
When they were heavy-laden with the cross;
Whereby their gains did much outweigh their loss.
They suffer'd all with joy, in prisons sung.
Accounting all for Christ meer dross and dung.
When the Apostles whipt were for Christs name,
Away they went rejoicing in that shame.
And sure that God who strengthen'd them, will be,
Act but thy faith, full out as good to thee.
Burdens shall be proportion'd to thy back:
When strength is small, yet strength thou shalt not lack.
If that thy way at last be dirt and mire,
Thou shalt get thorough it, and shalt not tire.
Weather and way fear not, no, fear thou neither,
Both strength & steps thou shalt renew together.
In arms of love Christ will thee carry through
All the sharp trials, which he calls thee to.
Therfore though weak, fear not the wickeds rod,
Weak ones shall be as David, he as God.

SOUL.
All will be well: within a change I find
Some settlement in mine once shaking mind.
Time was, I never could hold up my head,
But a doubt came, and struck my comforts dead,
Making me droop again. Did I but take
Hold of a promise, heart and hand would shake.
I thought my self too bold, and still did fear
Such high presumption would cost me dear.
But now the clouds begin to scatter, and
Darkness doth vanish, I now can see land,
Who lately saw nothing but swelling Seas
Of deep and boundless, endless miseries.
When I go out, methinks I see above
God smiling on me with his beams of love.
And when at home I sit, there is good store
Of Gospel-comforts knocking at my dore,
Commanding entrance, which do smooth my brow,
And I wax cheerful, though I know not how.
Its calm within, without I see it fair:
Those things that threatned, now dispersed are.
Risen the Sun is, and a glorious light
Comes from him, chasing hence my dismal night.
Where fears were rank, sweet consolations grow,
Rejoice I must, whether I will or no.
But how comes this about? what hand hath brought
Such Cordials in, when of them least I thought?
My peace beginning hath, my fears an end;
But how, I'd gladly know, and who's my friend.
Oh! it is Faith, precious and high born Faith.
Faith's voice alone it is, which to me saith,
Shake off thy dust, fear not, arise and shine,
Thy light is come, God and his all are thine.
Fool that I was! that so long time should be
Spent in such strangeness between Faith and me!
That I the door should ope to every doubt,
And shut at the same time, believing out.
So I will do no more; Faith's my relief,
I will believe, Lord help mine unbelief.
Get thee hence, Satan. Doubts be gone, I will
Relie upon my God, and trust him still.
My sins and sorrows, though they'r manifold,
Shall never force me to let go my hold:
But I upon his grace will hang, and say
Mine thou hast been, art now, shalt be for ay.
He is Immutable, and why should I
Doubt of that love which hath Eternity?
Abiding frowns such love cannot abide,
I'le trust him therefore though he from me hide.
This is my fixt resolve, which is not made
In mine own strength, but thine; Lord, faith would fade,
And soon give way to doubts, were't not each hour
Preserved by thine own Almighty pow'r.
And so still let it be; grant thou that I
May live believing, and believing die.
Faith is my strength, be thou Faith's strength, till we
In Heaven meet once for eternitie.
When of these Creature-comforts I have none,
Let me rejoice in thee mine only One.
Whatever I do want, let me all make
Up in thy self, Lord, for dear Jesus sake.
Yea when thou frownest, and lay'st on thy rod,
Let me relie upon an angry God
Grant me to cast my self, and each affair,
At all times on thy tender love and care.
And Father, while that I by Faith adhere
Unto thy boundless grace, make it appear
Thou hast accepted me. Lord feed my sense
With thine own love; draw up mine evidence
And seal it by thy Spirit; that I may
Glory in thee my God throughout the day.
And when I leave the world, let Angels be
My convoy in my passage unto thee.
Let Hope at last end in fruition,
And Faith be swallowed up of Vision.
Conduct me to that place, where I shall sing
Eternal praise to thee my God and King.