University of Virginia Library

Youth in his unconverted State.

Youth.

Conscience.
Controul you, Sir! in truth and that dare I,
For your contempt of my Authority.
You tread on me without the least regard,
As if I worthy were not to be heard;
You strive to stifle me, and therefore I,
Am forc'd aloud, Murder, with speed to cry:
I can't forbear but must cry out amain,
Such is the wrong which from you I sustain.

Youth.
VVhat are you, Sir, you dare to be so bold?
I scorn by any He, to be controul'd.
E're I have done with you, I'le make you know,
You shall your power, and commission show.

Conscience.
Be not so hot, and you shall know my Name,
And also learn from whence my power came,
I'me no Usurper, yet I do Command,
You for to stop, and make a present stand.
Your pleasures you must leave, and Vitious Life,
Else there will grow, a very bitter strife;
'Tween you and I, as will apear anon,
If from these Courses you don't quickly turn.
For all your courage which you seem to take,
The news I bring's enough to make you quake.

Youth.
Who e're thou art, I'le make you by and by,
Confess you have accus'd me wrongfully.
From Murder I am clear, in thought and deed,
Thus be to charg'd, doth cause my heart to bleed;
Pray let me crave your Name, if you are free,
If you provoke me, worse 'twil quickly be;
You seek occasion, and are quarelsome,
And therefore 'tis, I do suppose you'r come.
But if your Name you don't declare to me,
I am resolv'd to be reveng'd on thee.

Consciene.
What violence (alas!) can you do more,
Than that which you have done to me before,
Forbear your threats, be still and hold your hand?
And quickly you shall know and understand,
My Name, my Power, and place of Residence,
Which may to you prove of great consequence.
I am a Servant to a Mighty King,
Who Rules, and Reigns, and Governs every thing;
Who keeps one Court above, and here below,
Another he doth keep, as you shall know,
O're this inferiour Court placed am I,
To Act and do, as his great Deputy.
I truly Judge, according to my Light,
Yea, and impartially do each Men right.
Those I condemn, who vile and guilty are,
And justifie the Holy and Sincere.
I order'd am, to watch continually,
O're all your Actions with a wary Eye:
And I have found how you, have of late time,
Committed many a bold, and horrid Crime,
Of Murder, Treason, and like Villany,
Against the Crown and glorious Dignity,
Of that great Prince from whence you have your breath,
Who's King & Ruler, over all the Earth.
I am his Judge, Attourney-General,
And have Commission also; you to call.
Unto the Barr, and make you to confess
Your horrid Crimes, and fearful guiltiness.
A Black Indictment I have drawn in truth,
Against thy self thou miserable Youth;
Thy Pride I shall abate, thy Pleasure mar,
And bring thee to confess with tears, at Barr,
Thy sports and Games, and youthful Lust to be,
Nought else but sin, and cursed Vanity.
And for to put thee also out of doubt;
My Mame is Conscience, which you bear about;
No other than th'accusing faculty
Of that dear Soul which in thy breast doth lye:
I by that Rule Mens thoughts and ways compare,
By which their inward parts enlightned are;
And as they do accord, or disagree,
I do accuse, or Clear immediately,
According to your Light you do not live,
But violate that Rule which God doth give
To you, to square your Life and Actions by;
From hence comes in your woe and misery.

Youth.
Conscience art thou? why did'st not speak e're now?
To mind what thou dost say, I can't tell how.
Thou melancholly Fancy, fly from me,
My Pleasures I'le not leave in spight of thee.
Other brave Guests, you see, to me are come,
And in my House for thee there is no room.
Dost think I will be check'd by silly thought,
And into snares my foolish Fancy brought?
Is't you which cry out Murder, only you?
A Fig (alas!) for all that you can do.
For though against me you do prate and preach,
Your very Neck I am resolv'd to stretch.
I'le swear, carouse, and whore, say what you will,
Till I have stifled you, and made you still.
I'le clip your Wings, and make you see at length,
I do know how to spoyl you of your strength.
When you do speak, I will not lend an ear;
I'le make (in truth) as if I did not hear.
If you speak loud when I am all alone,
I will rise up, and straightway will be gone
To the brave Boyes, who toss the Pot about;
And that's the way to wear your patience out.
I'le go to Playes, and Games, and Dancings too,
And e're a while, I shall be rid of you.

Conscience.
Thou stubborn foolish Youth be not so rash,
Lest e're you be a ware you seel my lash.
I have a sting, a whip yea and can bite,
Before you shall o'recome, I'le stoutly fight:
I'le gripe you sore, and make you howl anon,
If you resolve in sin still to go on.
I have o'recome strong hearts, & made them yield,
And so shall you before I quit the field,
Go where you will, be sure I'le soon come after,
And into sorrow, will I turn your laughter.
'Twill prove hard work for you, to shake me off,
Though you at me do seem, to jear and scoff,
As if o're you, I had no Jurisdiction,
Or was a Dream, a Fancy, or some Fiction:
For all your VVrath, I must you yet disturb,
Though you offended are, I can't but curb.
And snib you daily, as I oft have done,
Till you repent, and from lewd courses turn:
For, till the Case be taken quite a way,
Th'Effect will follow what e're you do or fray:
Unless your Light wholly extinguish'd be,
If sin remains disturbance you will see.
Therefore I do beseech you soberly,
For to submit to my Authority;
Obey my Voice, I prethee make a tryal,
Before you give another flat denyal.
If more sweet comfort I don't yield to you,
Than all which doth from sinful actions flow.
Then me reject; but otherwise, my Friend,
My Checks receive, and to my motions bend.
Get peace within what ever thou dost do,
And let vain pleasures and Corruptions go;
That will be better for thy soul at last,
Than Gold or Silver, or what else thou hast.
And since we are alone, let thee and I,
More mildly talk about Supremacy.
Is't best for you that pride and Folly reign,
Which nought doth bring save sorrow, shame and pain,
And Conscience to reject, who perfectly,
From guilt and bondage strives to set you free?
Have not these lusts by which thou now art led,
Brought many men unto a piece of Bread?
What brave Estates have some consum'd thereby
And now are forc'd in Barns on Straw to lye?
How has the Wife been ruin'd with the Child,
Besides poor Conscience grievously turmoyl'd?
Nay, once again, give ear, I prethee hark;
Han't many a brave and curious Spark,
Been brought in stinking Prisons there to lye,
For yielding to their Lust and Vanity?
How many swing at Tyburn every year,
For stabbing Conscience without care or fear?
And some also out of their wits do run,
And by that means are utterly undone:
Some men stifle me, I cannot speak,
And then they sport and play, and merry make;
Resolving that I shall not gripe them more,
But quickly then a fresh I make them roar.
Some of them I do drive into despair,
When in their face I do begin to stare;
No rest nor peace at all their Souls can find,
I so disturb and still perplex their mind.
What say you now, young-man, will you submit?
Weigh well the danger, and the benefit.
The danger on the one hand will be great,
If me you do oppose, and ill intreat.
Sweet profit comes, you see, on th'other hand
To such who subject are to my Command.
What dost thou say; shall I embraced be?
Or, wilt thou follow still thy Vanity?

Youth.
Was ever young-man thus perplex'd as I,
Who flourished in sweet prosperity?
VVhere e're I go, Conscience dogs me about,
No quiet I can have, in doors, nor out.
Conscience, what is the cause you make such strife,
I can't enjoy the comforts of my Life?
I am so grip'd, and pinched in my brest,
I know not where to go, nor where to rest.

Conscience.
Cause you have wronged and offended me,
Loving vain Pleasures, and Iniquity.
The Light you have, you walk not up unto,
You know 'tis evil, which you daily do.
My witness I must bear continually,
For the great God, whose glorious Majesty,
Did in thy Soul give me so high a place,
As for to stop you in your sinful race;
I must reprove, accuse, and you condemn,
Whilst you by sin, His Sov'raignty contemn:
I can't betray my trust, nor hold my peace,
Till I am stabbed, sear'd, or Light doth cease;
Till you your life amend, and sins forsake,
I shall pursue you, though your heart doth ake.

Youth.
How bold and malipert is Conscience grown!
Though I upon this Fellow daily frown;
And his Advice reject, yet still doth he,
Knock at my Door, as if he'd weary me.
Conscience I'le have you know in truth that I,
A Person am of some Authority:
Are you so saucy as to curb and chide,
Such a brave Spark, who can't your ways abide?
'Tis much below my Birth and Parentage,
And it agrees not with my present age;
For to give place to you, or to regard,
Those things from you, I have so often heard.

Conscience.
Alas, Proud flesh, dost think thy self too high,
To be subject to such a one as I?
Thy betters I continually gain-say,
If they my Motions don't with care obey.
My Power's great, and my Commission large,
There's scarce a Man, but I with folly charge.
The King and Peasant are alike to me,
I favour none of high or low degree:
If they offend, I in their faces fly,
Without regard or fear of standers-by.

Youth.
Speak not another word, don't you perceive
There's scarce a Man or Woman will believe
What you do say, you'r grown so out of date,
Be silent then and longer do not prate.
I'th' Country your credit is but small,
There's few care for your company at all:
The Husband-man the Landmark can't remove,
But you straitway him bitterly reprove:
Nor Plow a little of his Neighbours Land,
But you command him presently to stand.
There's not a Man can go i'th' least awry,
But out against him fiercely you do fly.
The People therefore now so weary are,
They've thrust you out almost of ev'ry Shire:
And in the City you so hated be,
There's very few care a rush for thee:
For if they should believe what you do say,
Their Pride and Bravery would soon decay,
Their swearing, cheating, and their drunkenness,
VVould vanish quite away, or grow much less.
Our craft of Profit and our Pleasure too,
VVould soon go down, and ruin'd be by you.
The whores and Bawds, with the Play-houses then
VVould be contemned by all sorts of Men.
You strive to spoil us of our sweet delight,
Our Pleasures you oppose with all your might.
The Fabrick of our Joy you would pull down,
And make our Youth just like a Country clown.
VVe half Phanaticks should be made ('tis clear)
If unto thee we once inclined were.
But this amongst the rest doth chear my heart,
There's very few in London take thy part.
Here and there one, which we Nick-names do give,
VVho hated are, and judg'd not fit to live.
'Tis out of fashion grown, I daily see,
Conscience for to regard i'th' least degree.
He that can't whore and swear without controul,
VVe do account to be a timerous Fool.
Therefore though you so desperately do fall
Upon poor me, yet I do hope I shall
Get loose from you, and then I'le tear the ground,
And in all joy and pleasure will abound.

Conscience.
Ah! poor deceived Soul! dost thou not know,
That most of all Mankind i'th' broad-way goe?
What though they do most wickedly abuse me?
VVilt thou also in the like manner use me?
VVhat though they will of me no warning take,
'Till they drop down into the Stygian Lake?
VVilt thou be-friend the cursed Serpent so,
As to go on till comes thy overthrow?
VVhat though I am in no request by them?
Don't they likewise God's holy VVord contemn?
Don't they the Gospel cast quite out of sight,
Lest from their Pleasures it should them affright?
What though my friends are tost about and hurl'd
Their inward peace is more than all the World
Can give to them, or from them take away,
Whilst they with diligence do me obey;
As I enlightned am by God's Precepts,
Which are a guide, and Lanthorn to my steps.
O come proud heart, and longer don't contend,
But leave thy Lust, and to my Scepter bend:
For I'le not leave thee, but with all my pow'r,
I'le follow thee, unto thy dying hour.

Youth.
Into some private place then I will fly,
Where I may hide my self, and secretly,
There, I'le enjoy my self, in spight of thee;
And thou shalt not i'th least know where I be.

Conscience.
Nay, foolish Youth, how can that thing be done,
From Conscience it is in vain to run;
No secret place can you find out or spy,
To hide your self from me, such is mine Eye;
I see i'th Dark, as well as in the Light,
No Doors nor Walls, will keep thee from my sight.
Where e're thou art, or goest, am I not near,
Thy Soul with horrid guilt, to scare and fear?
Could Cain, or Judas, get out of my reach,
When once between us, there was the like breach?
Did I not follow them unto the end,
And made them know what 'twas for to offend
My glorious Prince, and me his true Viceroy?
Vengeance doth follow them who US annoy.
My Counsel then I prethee take with speed,
For that's the way alone for to be freed
From Vengeance here, and Wrath also to come,
When thou dost dye, and at the day of Doom.

Youth.
What! can't I fly from thee, nor thee subdue?
Then I intreat thee, Conscience, don't pursue,
Nor follow me so close; forbear a while,
Don't yet my Beauty, nor my Pleasures spoil.
This is my Spring, and Flower of my Age,
Oh! pity me, and cease thy bitter rage:
Don't crop the tender bud, it is too green;
Oh! let me have those days others have seen.
Forbear thy hand, till my wild Oats are sown;
They must be ripe also before they'r mown.
Thou hast forborn with some for a long time,
That which I ask of thee is but the prime,
Of those good days which God bestows on me,
Oh! that it might but once obtained be!
'Tis time enough for to adhere to thee,
After I've spent my time in Gallantry;
In earths sweet joys, & such transcendent pleasures
Which young men do esteem the chiefest treasures.

Conscience.
After all violence and outrage great
Done to poor Conscience, do you now intreat?
Thinking for to prevail by flattery,
But that in truth I utterly defie:
'Tis quite against my Nature you must know,
Unto vile Lust fond pity for to show:
God has not given such a dispensation,
For me to wink at your abomination:
If God doth once but blow your Candle out,
I shall be quiet then you need not doubt:
(But woe to you as ever you were born,
If God doth once his Light to darkness turn.)
But while in you remains that legal Light,
Your Sins I can't endure in my sight.
No liberty God, I am sure, will give
To any one, in horrid Sin to live;
Nor will he give allowance for a day:
'Tis very dangerous for to delay
The work of thy Repentance for an hour.
What thy hand finds to do, do with thy pow'r.
If me you don't believe, I prethee, Youth,
For to resolve thy self, go to God's Truth.

Youth.
Well! since that you no comfort do afford,
I will enquire of God's most Holy Word:
So far I will your Counsel take, for I
Am sorely troubled, whither shall I fly?
I will make tryal, I resolve to see,
VVhether the Truth and Conscience do agree.
The lip of Truth can't lye, though Conscience may:
VVhen that misguided is, it leads astray.
If Truth and Conscience speak the self-same thing,
'Twill some amazement to my Spirit bring.
That now I ask for, and earnestly crave,
I's some short time in sin longer to have.
Conscience denyes it me: Truth, what say you?
Oh! that you would a little favour shew.
To a poor Lad, alas! I am but young,
Like to a Flower which is lately sprung
Out of the ground, and Conscience day and night,
Strives for to tread me down with all his might:
Or, as the Frost the tender bud doth spoyl;
So has he striven to do a great while.
Must I reform, and all my sins forsake?
Some fitter season then O let me take.
For all things there's a time under the Sun,
And when I older am, I will return.

Truth.
Nay, hold, vain Youth, you are mistaken now,
No time to sin God doth to thee allow.
If I may speak, attend, and you shall hear,
I with poor Conscience must my witness bear;
I am his Guide, his Rule, 'tis by my Light
He acts and does, and speaks the thing that's right.
You are undone, if you don't speedily
Leave all your sins, and cursed vanity.
Art thou too young thy evil ways to leave,
And yet hast thou a precious Soul to save?
Art thou too young to leave Iniquity,
VVhen old enough in Hell for sin to lye?
Some fitter season (Youth) dost think to find?
The Devil doth dart that into thy mind.
No time so fit, as when the Lord doth call;
Those who rebellious are, they one day shall
Smart bitterly for their most horrid evil,
In yielding to, and siding with the Devil.
But once again, I prethee hark to me;
Don't God, whilst thou art young, call unto thee?
Remember thy Creator therefore now,
And unto him with speed see you do bow.
The first ripe Fruit of old God did desire,
And so of thee likewise he doth require,
That thou to him a Sacrifice should'st give,
Of thy best days, and learn betimes to live,
Unto the praise of his most Holy Name;
And not by sin so to prophane the same.
This is (Young-man) also thy choosing time,
VVhilst thou therefore dost flourish in thy prime,
Place thou thy heart upon the Lord above;
And with Christ Jesus also fall in love.
Did not Jehovah give to thee thy breath,
And also place thee here upon the Earth;
And many precious blessings give to thee,
That thou to him alone should'st subject be?
God out of Bowels sent his precious Son,
Thy Soul from evil ways with speed to turn;
Who for thy sake was nailed to the Tree
To free thy Soul from Hell and misery.
And whilst in sin (vile wretch) thou dost remain,
Thou dost as, twere him Crucifie again:
Thy sins also (O Young-man) God doth hate,
His Soul doth loath, and them abominate;
Naught is more odious in his blessed sight,
Than those base Lusts in which thou tak'st delight.
And wilt thou not O Young-man! be deterr'd
From thy vain ways? what, is thy heart so hard?
Shall nothing move thy Soul for to repent,
Nor work Convictions in thee to relent?
Give ear to Truth, Truth never spoke a Lye,
And fly from Sin and youthful Vanity.
Those that do seek God's Kingdom first of all,
And do obey God's sweet and gracious Call;
They shall find Christ, and ly too in his breast,
And reap the comfort of Internal rest.
But if thou should'st this golden time neglect,
And all good motions utterly reject;
And slight the day of this thy Visitation;
That will to God be such a provocation,
That he'l not wait upon thee any more,
Nor never knock hereafter at thy door.
Whilst tearms of peace God doth therefore afford,
Subject to him, lest he doth draw his Sword.
If once to anger him you do provoke,
He'l break your bones, and wound you with his stroke:
Who can before his indignation stand,
Or, bear the weight of his revengeful hand?
How darest thou a War with him maintain,
And say o're thee Christ Jesus shall not Reign?
Wilt thou combine with his vile Enemy,
And yet presume on his sweet clemency?
Wilt thou, vile Traytor-like, contrive the death
Of that great King, from whom thou hast thy breath,
Wilt thou cast dirt upon the Holy One,
And keep Christ Jesus from his rightly Throne?
Is't not his right thy Conscience for to sway?
Ought he not there to Reign, and thou Obey?
Dar'st thou resist his dread and Soveraign Power?
Yea, or hold parley with him for an hour,
To gratifie the Devil, who thereby
Renews his strength, yea and doth fortifie
Himself in thee, and makes his Kingdom strong,
By tempting thee to sin whilest thou art young?
The Blackamoor as soon may change his skin,
As thou may'st leave and turn away from sin,
When once a habit and a custome's taken,
Then sinfull wayes are hard to be forsaken.
Dar'st thou, vile wretch, Christ's Government oppose,
And with the Devil and Corruption close?
Had'st rather that the Devil reign o're thee,
Than unto God Almighty subject be?
VVhich will be best, dost think, for thee i'th' end,
The Lord to please, and Satan to offend?
Or Satan for to please, and so thereby,
Declare thy self JEHOVAH's Enemy?
For those who live in sin, 'tis very clear,
They Enemies to GOD and Jesus are.
And wilt thou yield unto the Devil still,
And greedily also his will fulfill?
Dost think, vain youth, he'l prove to thee a friend,
That thou dost so his cursed ways commend?
Has Sin (which is his odious excrement)
So sweet a smell, yea and a fragrant scent?
Shall that which is the superfluity
Of naughtiness, be precious in thyne eye?
And dost thou value Christ and all he hath,
Not worth vain pleasures here upon the Earth?
Shall he esteemed be by thee (vile dust!)
Not worth the pleasures of a cursed Lust?
Is there more good in sinfull Vanity,
Than is in all the glorious Trinity?
That which men think is best, that will they chuse
Things of small value 'tis they do refuse.
What thoughts hast thou of Christ then, sinful Soul,
That thou his Messengers dost thus controul,
And dost to him also turn a deaf ear,
His knocks, his calls, and wooings wilt not hear;
Nor him regard, though he stands at thy door,
With Myrrhe and Frankincense, yea and all store
Of rare Fruit, and chief Spice, as Cinnamon,
Aloes, Spikenard, Camphire and Saffron;
All pretious things (poor Soul!) of Heaven above,
He has with him, yet nothing will thee move
To ope the door: for all his calls and knocks,
Thou let's him stand untill his pretious locks
Are wet with dew, and drops of the long night.
Thus thou dost him despise, reject and slight,
And rather keep'st thy Lust and Pleasure still,
Than that Christ should thy Soul with Heaven fill.
Though he ten thousand VVorlds doth yet excell,
And makes that heart where he in truth doth dwell
To be a Heaven here upon the Earth,
Filling the Soul with precious joy and mirth;
VVhich makes gray-headed VVinter like a Spring,
And Youths like to Cœlestial Angels sing;
The Soul he doth so greatly elevate,
That it disdains and doth abominate
All sensual pleasures in comparison
Of Jesus Christ his dear and only One.
Let me perswade thee, for to taste and try,
How good Christ is, for then assuredly,
Thou wilt admire him, yea, and praise the Lord,
That ever he did to thy Soul afford,
Such a dear Saviour, and such good Advice,
To lead thy Soul into sweet Paradice.
For none do know the nature of that Peace,
That inward joy the which shall never cease,
But he himself who doth the same possess:
Oh! taste and see, for then you will confess,
No pen can it express, no Tongue declare,
It's Nature's such (Oh Young-man!) 'tis so rare,
Christ is the Summum bonum, it is He,
In whom alone is true felicity.
Such is the Nature of Man's panting breast,
There's nought on Earth can give him perfect rest.
'Tis not in Honour, that is Vanity:
For such, like Beasts, and other Mortals, dye.
Kingdoms and Crowns they tottering do stand,
The Servant may the Master soon Command.
Belshazzar, who upon the Throne did sit,
His Knees against each other soon did hit.
How was he scar'd when the hand-writing came,
And wrote upon the Wall, ev'n the same
That afterwards befell? his End being come,
Then straitway followed his final Doom.
Great Men oft-times are filled with great fear;
Being perplext they know not how to stear.
Tall Cedars fall, when little shrubs abide,
Though Winds do blow, and strangely turn the Tide.
For Man in Honour lives but a short space,
He dyes like to the Beasts, so ends his race.
Where's Nimrod now, that mighty Man of old,
And where's the Glory of the Head of Gold?
Great Monarchs now are moulder'd quite away,
Who did on Eearth the golden Scepter sway,
In highest place of Humane Government:
None ever found therein solid content.
Of Alexander 'tis declar'd by some,
How he sate down when he had overcome
The Eastern world, and did weep very sore,
Because there was one world, and was no more
For him to Conquer. Thus also 'tis still,
This world's not big enough Man's Soul to fill.
Riches and Wealth also can't satisfie,
That precious Soul which in thy breast doth lye.
If store of Gold and Silver thou shouldst gain,
'Twould but increase thy sorrow grief and pain.
Riches, O Young-man, they are empty things,
And fly most swift away with Eagles wings.
VVhen riches thou dost heap, thou heap'st up sorrow
They'r thine to day, alas! but gone to morrow.
Fires may come, and thy Treasures burn,
Or Theeves steal it, as they have often done.
He that hath thousands by the Year, this night
May be as poor as Job before 'tis light.
And as for pleasure which thy Age doth prize
Why should that seem so lovely in thine eyes?
'Tis but a moment they with thee will last;
And sadness comes also when they are past.
The Brute his pleasures hath as well as thee,
Man's chiefest good therefore can't pleasures be.
And whilst thou striv'st thy evil Lust to please,
Thy raging Conscience (Youth) who shall appease?
Whith this sweet Meat I tell thee also Friend,
Thou shalt have four sauce be sure i'th' end.
And as for Beauty, that also is vain,
Unless thou can'st the inward Beauty gain.
What's outward Beauty save an evil snare:
By which vain ones oft-times deceived are:
And on a sudden draw into temptation,
For to commit most vile abomination.
That Beauty which Man's carnal heart doth prize,
Renders not lovely in Jehovah's eyes:
Though deck'd with jewels, rings, & brave attire,
The glorious King their Beauty don't desire;
His hearts not taken with't, but contrar'wise
The Beauty of vain ones he doth despise,
Though very fair, yet if defil'd with sin,
They like unto Sepulchres are within.
Loathsome and vile i'th sight of God are they,
And soon their seeming Beauty will decay.
It fades and withers, and away doth doth pass,
Just like unto the flower of the grass.
The curled Locks, yea and the spotted Face,
God e're'a while will bring into disgrace.
Those Ladies which excel all others do,
Must feed the worms within a day or two,
Death and the grave will spoil their beauty quite,
And none in them shall never more delight.
As for thy Age in youthful dayes we see,
Youth minds nought else save cursed vanity.
Soon may thy Spring also meet with a blast,
And all thy glory not an hour last.
The flower in the Spring which is so gay,
Soon doth it fade and wither quite away.
Nothing on earth canst thou find out or spy,
That will content thee long, or satisfie
That Soul of thine, if still you search about
Till you do find the rarest Science out.
For if on Learning once you place your mind,
Much vanity in that also you'l find.
For Humane Knowledge and Philosophy,
Can't bring thy Soul into sweet Unity
With God above, and Jesus Christ his Son,
In whom, poor Youth, is happiness alone.
Dote not on Honour then, not yet Treasure,
Nor Beauty, Learning, Youth, nor Pleasure;
All is but Vanity that's here below,
Truth and Experience both the same do show.
Come, look to Heav'n, seek thou for higher joys,
Let Swine take Husks, & Fools these empty toys.
Come taste of Christ, poor Soul, and then you will,
Of joys Cœlestial receive your fill.
If thou dost drink but of the Crystal Springs,
These outward joys thoul't see are trifling things.
If Heavens sweetness once thou hadst but caught,
Thou wouldst account Earth's best enjoyments naught
Honour & riches too Christ has great store
And at's Right hand pleasures for evermore.
Dost think that he who makes Man's life so sweet,
Whilst he with grievous troubles here doth meet,
And in believing hath such sweetness placed,
Though his own Image greatly is defaced,
Can't give to him much greater Consolation,
When all the sowr's vanisht of Temptation.
If with the bitter, Saints such sweetness gain,
What shall they have when they in Glory reign?

Youth.
Be silent Truth, leave off, for I can't bear
Your whyning strains, nor will I longer hear
Such melancholy whymsies, they'r such stuff,
Which suits not with my Age: I have enough
Of it already, and also of you,
Sith you my int'rests strive to overthrow.
When I Appeal'd to you, I was perplext,
And with sad melancholy sorely vext:
But since I do perceive the Storm is o're,
You I don't think to trouble any more.
Long-winded-Sermons, Sir, I do not love.
Nor of your Doctrine in the least approve.
No liberty to me I see you'll give,
In sweet delights and pleasures for to live.
I don't intend Phanatick yet to turn,
Nor after such distracted people run;
An easier way to Heaven I do know,
And therefore, Sir, Farewel, farewel, to you.
My bride, my Sports and my old Company;
I will enjoy, and all my bravery
I will hold fast, yea, wantonly fulfil
My fleshy mind, say preachers what they will?

Conscience.
Ah Youth, ah Youth, is't so in very deed!
Wilt thou no more unto God's truth give heed.
'Twas but my mouth to stop, I now do find
That unto Truth you seemingly inclin'd
But this, O Soul, I must assure to thee,
What thou hast heard, has much enlightned me
And my Commission too it doth renew,
As will appear by what doth next ensue
Have you from God been called thus upon,
And shall your heart be hardened like a stone
You can't plead ignorance, Oh Youth, 'tis so,
You plainly now have heard what you should do.
Your sin will be with grievous Aggravation,
If quickly you don't make a Recantation.
Your sin will now be of a scarlet dye,
And many stripes prepared I espy,
With which you must be beat; because that you
Your Master's Will so perfectly do know,
But for to do the same you still refuse,
And your poor Conscience wickedly abuse,
You'l shew your self a cursed Rebel now,
If unto Christ with speed you do not bow.
Wilt thou thy sins retain, when thou dost hear
How much against the Living God they are?
Wilt thou cast dirt into his blessed face?
Oh! tremble Soul, and dread thy present case.

Youth.
Now my good days, I see they will be gone,
My inward thoughts will ne're let me alone,
Ah that I could but sin without controul,
And Conscience would no more disturb my Soul,
His bitter gripes much longer I can't bear,
He's grown so strong, that little hope is there,
But he'l prevail, such conflicts do I feel.
My Courage now and Resolutions reel;
But yet I am resolv'd once more to try,
And struggle will to get the mastery.
I cowardly will not acquit the Field,
Nor at the second summons will I yield.
I'le make once more another stout assay,
Er'e unto Conscience I will yield the day.
Ah! how can I my sweet delights forsake,
Without resistance to the last I make?
Conscience, although I sinful am, I see
Ther's many thousand sinners worse than me:
There's none can live and from all sin be clear,
That I from Truth did very lately hear.
My heart is good, though it is true, that I
Am over-come through humane frailty.

Conscience.
O cursed wretch! dar'st thou thy heart commend?
Come tremble Soul, and it to pieces rend.
Don't I most clearly in thy heart behold
Most horrid lust, 'twould shame thee were it told:
All rottenness and filthy I do espy,
In that base heart of thine, to lurk and lie;
There Vipers breed and many a Cockatrice;
The spawn of every Sin and evil Vice.
Like a Sepulchre, Soul, thou art with in,
Nought's there but stink and putrifying sin.
Out from thy heart all-evil doth ascend,
And yet wilt thou thy filthy heart commend?
And dost thou think thy state good for to be,
Cause thou dost find many as bad as thee?
You are so naught, If you from sin don't turn,
You must for sin in Hell for ever burn.
Except ye do repent, Truth tells you plain,
You perish must, in everlasting pain.

Youth.
Well, say no more, if this be so, I must
Go unto Truth again, or I shall burst;
My heart will break I clearly do discern,
I therefore now must yield, and also learn
What's my Estate, my Nature, Oh! that I'd know,
Come, Truth, I pray will you this favour show;
As to explain this thing to me more clear,
For Conscience doth my Soul with horrour scare.
Is he i'th' right, Oh Truth! or is he wrong?
I find Convictions in me very strong.
What is my state? declare it unto me,
And set my troubled soul at liberty.

Truth.
What Conscience speaks, O young man, is most right,
And vain it is with him longer to fight:
Conscience against thee doth his witness bear,
And dreadful danger also doth declare.
Those he condemns by Light receiv'd from me,
Th'Eternal God condemns assuredlie.
And God is greater than thy Heart, Oh Soul!
Who can enough thy grievous state condole?
If Conscience does its Testimony give,
That you in sin and cursed ways do live,
And that thou art an unconverted wretch:
If 'tis from hence, between you there's a breach,
And this be so as it you can't deny,
What would you do if you this night should dye?
If in this state this life you do depart,
Undone for evermore, Young man thou art:
As sure as is the mighty God in Heaven,
Against thy Soul the Sentence will be given,
Conscience his power did from God receive?
And if you 'don't obey and him believe,
But do reject his Motions, 'tis all one
As if Christ Jesus you did tread upon:
Whilst he doth Rule by Laws that are Divine,
'Tis Treason him to stop or undermine,
And once again to shew thee thy estate,
Thou being, Young man, not regenerate,
No God nor Christ have you, 'tis even so,
And this indeed's the sum of all your wo.
In God no Interest, (Youth) hast thou at all,
He's quite departed ever since the Fall
And is become thy dreadful Enemy,
His angry face is set most veh'mently
Against thy Soul, and that's a fearful thing,
Enough thy pride with Vengeance down to bring
Each Attribute against thy Soul is set,
And all of them also together met
To make thee every way most miserable,
Which wrath for to withstand, what man is able?
He'l suddenly thy Soul to pieces tear,
And his eternal Vengeance make thee bear:
His wrath it will upon thy Soul remain,
'Till you by Faith are truly born again

Youth.
This Doctrine which to me you do declare,
It is enough to drive one to despair?
If it be so, I grant I am undone,
But God is gracious and has sent his Son:
He's full of bowels, therefore hope do I,
He'l not on me his Justice magnifie.

Truth.
'Tis true God's gracious, yet he will not clear
Those guilty Souls who don't his Justice fear:
He's very gracious, yet he's full of ire,
And is to such like a consuming fire.
He sent his Son, 'tis true, for Souls to dye;
But many miss and falsely do apply
His precious blood; therefore my Counsel take,
Don't you too soon an Application make
Of Gods sweet Grace, nor yet of Christ's dear Blood,
Until by you the Gospel's understood.
Those who are whole need no Physician have,
The Sick and Wounded Soul Christ came to save.
What dost thou judge thy present state to be,
How do's it stand, and is it now with thee?

Youth.
I am a Sinner, and my heart doth bleed,
My sin-sick-Soul doth a sweet Saviour need,
My Conscience tells me that I am most vile,
And grievously for sin doth me turmoile.

Truth.
No Saviour you can have unless you do,
Resolve to leave your sins, and let them go:
Nor for your Wounds is there a help be sure,
'Till Causes be remov'd which do procure,
And bring on you that pain and bitter smart
Which you cry out of in your inward part.

Youth.
My trembling Soul's amaz'd and fill'd with fear,
Another way, Oh Truth! thy course I'le steer;
I must forsake all evil wayes, for I
Do see the danger and the misery
Which doth attend the way that I am in,
Whilst I do keep and hug my cursed sin.
There's scarce a night which passeth o're my head,
But dread I do the making of my Bed;
(E're Morning comes) in the sad depths of Hell.
My Conscience therefore now does me compell,
To bid adieu to all sweet joy and pleasure,
To lies and fraud and all unlawful treasure.
In sports and games I'le take no more delight,
But contrariwise I'le pray both day and night.
Conscience has overcome me with his gripes,
Truth follows him so with his threatn'd stripes.
The wall's broke down, the old man runs away,
And Conscience follows close to cut and slay:
And threatens too no Quarter he will give,
And seems before him every thing to drive
Lust forced is in corners now to fly,
Where it doth hide it self most secretly,
And watcheth also, thinking for to get
An opportunity once more to set
And fall on Conscience, which it doth disdain
'Cause Conscience says Corruption must be slain
I side with him because I would have peace.
But still 'tis doubtful when these Wars will cease.

Devil.
What pity is't thy Sun should set so soon
Or should be clouded thus before 'tis noon:
No sooner risen in thy Horison,
And sweetly shines, but presently is gone.
Shall Winter come before the Spring 'tis past,
And all its fruit be spoil'd with one sad blast?
Shall that brave flower which doth seem so gay,
So quickly fade and wither quite away?
What pity 'tis that one so young as thee
Should thus be brought into Captivity.
Heark not to Conscience, for I dare maintain,
'Tis better for to hug thy sins again.
Thy Conscience, Youth, thou hast too lately found,
Doth but amaze and give thy Soul a wound.
Consider well, advise, and thou shalt see,
My ways are best, come hearken unto me,
I'le give thee honour pleasure, wealth, and things
Which prized are by noble men and Kings.
Let not this Make-bate with one angry frown,
Throw all thy Glory and thy Pleasures down.
Let not strange thoughts distress thy troubled mind,
What satisfaction canst thou have or find,
But that which floweth from this World alone,
'Tis I must raise thee to the sublime Throne
The Hell thou fearest, may be but a story,
And Heaven also but a feigned Glory.
If this don't startle thee, then speedily
I will stir up some other Enemy.
Old man rouze up, I charge you to awake
And swiftly too, your life lies at the stake.
And Mistris Heart, stir up your wilful Will.
Is this a season for him to sit still!
If unto Truth and Conscience he gives place.
Our Intrest will, you'l see go down apace
Judgment is gone already and doth yield,
And Courage too I fear will quit the field.
Some sins are slain, and in their Blood do ly
And others into Holes are forc'd to fly.
As for Affection he doth hold his own,
Though Conscience doth upon him sadly frown:
Remembrance will unto him tray'trous prove,
If I his thoughts from Sermons can remove.
I'le make his Mind run after things below,
And raise up trouble which he did not know:
And he'l forget what he did lately hear,
And cease will then his former thoughts and fear.
If I can please his sensual appetite,
There is no fear of any sudden flight
His breast is Tinder, apt to entertain
The sparks of Lust which long he can't restrain
I'le blow them up and kindle them anew,
And to Convictions soon he'll bid adieu.
New objects I'le present unto his sight,
In which I am sure he can't but take delight.
I have such hold of him, there is no doubt
But I once more shall turn him quite about.
His old Companions also I'le provoke,
At's door again to give another knock;
Their strong inticements hardly he'l withstand,
They can (you'l see) his Spirit soon command.

Youth's old Companions.
How do you, Sir? what is the cause that we
Can't (here of late) enjoy your Company?
It seems to us as if you were grown strange,
As if in Youth there were some sudden change.

Youth.
I have not had the opportunity,
Besides on me there do's some burden lie,
Which doth press down my Spirits very sore,
And makes me seldom to go forth o'th door.

Companions.
I warr'nt you, Sirs, 'tis sin afflicts his Soul,
And he's just going now for to turn fool.
Come, come away, to Age such grief belongs,
To youth, brave mirth and sweet melodious songs.
Come drive these thoughts away with Pipe & Pot:
Sing and Carouse till they are quite forgot.
The lovely strains of the well-tuned Lute,
Where Playes they act, do with our Nature sute.
Come, go with us upon a brave Design,
The which will chear that drooping heart of thine.
Come generous Soul, let thy ambitious eye;
Such foolish fancies and vain dreams defie.
Shall thy Heroick Spirit thus give place,
To silly dotage to thy great disgrace?

Vicinus.
The young-man yields, being possess'd with fears,
They would reproach him else with scoffs and jears,
But afterwards his head begins to ake,
And Conscience then afresh begins to wake,
And stings him after such a bitter sort,
It puts a period to his jovial sport.
The thoughts of death, which sickness doth presage
Doth trouble him, he cannot bear the rage,
And inward gripes of his enlighten'd breast,
And therefore now again he thinks 'tis best
To hark to Conscience, whom he did refuse,
And grievously did many times abuse.

Conscience.
Go mourn, thou wretch, for sad is thy condition,
Pour forth amain the water of Contrition,
Wilt thou appear to men godly to be,
When all is nothing but Hypocrisie?
Wilt thou to Truth so often lend an ear,
And yet to Satan also thus adhere?
You were as good have kept your former station,
As thus to yield afresh unto temptation:
Go unto Truth, if God give space and room,
Before I do pronounce your final doom.

Truth.
Come, come, Young man, don't thy convictions loose,
But cherish them, and timely also choose
The one thing needful, which alone is good,
That God may wash thy Soul in Christ his Blood.
Thy Soul is precious, 'tis of greater worth
Than all the things that are upon the Earth.
For if that the whole world you now could gain,
And all the pleasures of it could obtain;
And in exchange your Soul should lose thereby,
What would your profit be when you must dye?
When once thy Soul is lost, thou losest all:
Oh! that will be a very dismal fall!
Dost thou not know what I of Hell declare,
Of th'hideous howlings of the Damned there?
How canst thou with devouring fire dwell?
Or lie with Devils in the lowest Hell?
Those who do in their natural state remain,
Must live for ever in that restless pain.
All Fornicators, Drunkards, and the Liar,
Must have their portion in that Lake of Fire,
With Thieves; Revilers, and Extortioners,
And such who are most vile Idolaters:
The Proud, the Swearer, and the Covetous,
God doth pronounce on them the self same curse.
And those who live in vile Hypocrisie,
Or do backslide into Apostasie;
Let such unto my present words give heed,
Their pain and torment shall all men's exceed.
What wilt thou do, or whither canst thou fly,
Where canst thou hide from the great Majesty?
Who tries the reins, and searches every heart,
Conscience declares that thou most guilty art
Condemned Soul! thou knowst that this is so,
And this moreover which I Plainly show,
Will come to Pass, as sure as God's above,
If from all sin with speed you don't remove;
As sure as you do live where e're you die,
To Hell you go to all Eternity:
Except Repentance in your Soul be wrought,
with vengeance thither you'll at last be brought
You are the man for whom God did prepare,)
That dreadful Tophet where the Damned are,
The which is made exceeding large and deep,
The Damned in that doleful place to keep,
Oh! call to mind what Conscience doth this day
Charge you withal before you'r swept away;
Lest you from him do hear no more at all,
Till you into those scorching flames do fall
What mercy is't that Conscience strives so long,
And his Convictions still in you are strong!
Oh! fear lest sin do sear your Conscience quite,
And God also put out your Candle-light?
And give you up unto a heart of stone,
As he in Wrath has served many one
Then to repent it will be much too late,
Such is the danger of a lapsed state
Young man take heed you don't this work delay
And put it off unto another day.
Your own Experience may discover this,
Man's Life a bubble and a vapour is.
Alas! thy days on Earth will be but few,
They fly away like to the morning dew;
Like as the cloud and shadow swiftly flies,
Or, dew doth pass as soon as Sun doth rise:
So fly thy dayes, thy golden months and years,
Much like the blossom that most gay appears,
And on a sudden fades and do's decay;
So Youth oft times doth wither quite away.
Thy Age thou do'st unto the Spring compare,
And to the flowers which appear so rare.
From hence, O young-man, learn Instruction now,
Don't thy Experience dayly teach thee how
The Flower withers and hangs down its head,
Which curiously of late so flourished?
The Meadow's clad in glorious array,
But's soon cut down, and turned all to Hay.
Like Jonah's Gourd which sprang up in a night,
And perished as soon as it was light.
Or like a Post which quickly passeth by,
Or Weaver's Shuttle which he maketh fly:
Or as a Ship when she is under sail.
Doth run most swift when she has a full gale.
So are thy days, they in like manner fly.
How many little Graves maist thou espy?
Come measure now thy days, and see their length,
Number them not by years, by health nor strength.
All these uncertain rules you must refuse,
Though that's the way which most of men do use.
They think to live till they old aged are,
'Cause their progenitors long-lived were.
That Rule from Truth you see doth greatly vary,
And which Experience shewth is contrary.
You hear the things which you should reckon by,
Things swift in motion, gone most speedily.
Thy life's uncertain, Youth, 'tis but a blast,
Thy Sand is little, long it will not last,
Thy house though new, yet it is very old.
Gone to decay, and turning to the mould,
You'r born to die, and dead also you were,
Before you liv'd or breathed in the Air.
And die you must, before that live you do,
Except you die to live as I do shew.
Thy dreadful ruine, Soul, is very nigh,
Unless thy Tears prevent it speedily.
What is thy purpose now, what's in thy mind?
Which way dost think to take, how art inclin'd?

Youth.
Thy ways, Oh Truth, I am resolv'd to run,
And never more will I to Folly turn.
I tremble, at the thoughts of Death and Hell,
My Soul is wounded, and my wounds do swell,
My pains increase, therefore my purpose now
Is far more strict to be, and for to bow
Unto Christ Iesus, that I may obtain
Some healing Med'cine to remove my pain
No rest can I, save in my Duty find,
I unto prayer am very much inclin'd.
God will, I hope, these latter sins forgive,
Since I more godly do intend to live:
And so resolve to watch and take such care,
That Satan shall no more my Soul insnare.

Vicinus.
He from this day becomes a great Professor,
Though far from being yet a true Possessor.
Christ he has got into his mouth and head,
And not internally rais'd from the dead,
But in old Adam still does he remain,
Not knowing what 'tis to be born again,
When Satan sees it is in vain to strive,
The Soul into its former state to drive.
But that it will forsake gross wickedness,
And will also the Truths of Christ profess,
He yields thereto resolving secretly,
To blind its eyes in close Hypocrisie.
And so appears under a new disguise,
Most subtilly thy Soul for to surprize,
Perswading him the War which he doth find,
Daily to be within his troubled mind,
Is saving Grace against iniquity,
Which has prevail'd and got the victory;
When it is common Grace (we do so call)
And not the Grace that's supernatural.
He takes the work Legal Reformation:
For th'only work of true Regeneration,
Here he doth rest and seem to be at ease,
When all is done his Conscience to appease.
But I'le give place to this Religious Youth,
To hear discourse between him and the Truth.

Youth.
Oh! happy I, and blessed be the day,
That unto Truth and Conscience I gave way.
I would not be in my old state again,
If I thereby some thousands might obtain.
From Wrath, and Hell, my Soul is now set free;
For I don't doubt, but I converted be.
The Word with power so to me was brought,
A glorious change within my Soul is wrought.

Truth.
Young man take heed, lest you mistaken are,
Conversion's hard, it is a work so rare,
That very few that narrow passage enter,
Though far that way there's thousands do adventure;
Yet miss the mark for all their inward strife,
They fall far short of the new-Creature-life;
Come, let me hear your Grounds of evidence:
For I don't like your seeming confidence.
I doubt I shall find you under God's curse,
And still your Case as bad, if not much worse,
Than 'twas when you did no Profession make,
But did your swing in all Prophaneness take.
The Pharisee was a Religious man,
Yet nearer Heaven was the Publican.
If short of Christ you fix or fasten do,
'Twill be your ruine and your overthrow.

Youth.
What do you mean? this Doctrin's too severe;
For all might see that I converted were.
But if my Grounds you are resolv'd to weigh,
You shall forthwith hear what I have to say;
And the first Ground which I resolve to bring,
For to evince, to clear and prove the thing,
Is from Convictions which I have of sin;
Which once I hugged and delighted in.

Truth.
Alas poor Soul! this Reason soon will fly,
For most do see their vile Iniquity.
They are convinced by their inward light,
That sin is odious in Jehovah's sight.
But yet vile Sinners are nevertheless,
And don't one dram of saving Grace possess.
King Pharaoh, Esau, yea, and Judas too,
They were convinced of their sins (you know:)
That they were Saints, there's no Man doth believe;
For all those three the Devil did deceive.
As he beguiled them, he may likewise,
With cunning Stratagems your Soul surprise.
Nay, and he has, so far as I can judge,
Unless you do some better Reason urge,
To prove Conversion in your Soul is wrought;
I do declare your state is very nought.
How many Men under Convictions lye,
Yet never born again until they dye?
What hast thou else to say and to produce,
Sith slight Convictions are of little use?

Youth.
I do not onely see my sin, but I
Do mourn and grieve for sin continually.
And those which so do mourn they blessed are,
Don't you also the self-same thing declare?

Truth.
Nay hold a little, thou may'st weep amain;
And yet in thee may many evils reign.
And thou may'st mourn for sin, as many do,
Because of shame, of bitter pain, and wo,
Which now it brings and leads unto i'th end,
And not because thereby you do offend
The living God, and wound your Saviour, who
Did for your sake such torment undergo.
Mourn more for th'evil which doth come thereby;
Than for the evil which in it doth ly.
This ground is weak, for Esau, it appears,
Did mourn and weep, and let fall bitters tears:
And yet you know that Esau was prophane,
And far was he from being born again.

Youth.
But I go further yet, I do confess,
My horrid evils, and my guiltiness;
If I confess my sins, as I have done,
God he is just, and is the faithful One;
Who will my sins forgive and pardon quite,
And blot them out of his own precious sight.
This being so, what cause then can you see,
But that I'me turn'd from my Iniquity?

Truth.
This will not do, 'tis not a certain ground;
Some do confess their sins whose heart's unsound.
When Pharaoh saw the Judgement of the Hail,
His heart began then greatly for to fail.
I've sin'd this time, the Lord is just, said he,
I, and my People (also) wicked be.
Though Pharaoh, Saul, and Judas, each of them,
God did reject, and utterly condemn;
Yet these, when under wrath, are forc'd to cry,
Lord we have sin'd; their Conscience so did fly
Into their Faces, that it made them quake,
And unto God Confession strait to make.
Confession may be made also in part;
And not of ev'ry sin that's in the heart.
Men may confess their sin, and their great guilt.
Who the dire nature of it never felt.
Confess their sins in their extremity,
When Conscience pinches them most bitterly.
Confess their sins which they committed have,
Yet don't intend those cursed sins to leave.

Youth.
But I confess, and also do forsake,
My state therefore, 'tis clear, you do mistake;
Those who confess and do their sins foregoe,
God will to them his precious Mercy show.
Therefore don't trouble me, 'tis very plain,
I for my part am truly born again.

Truth.
In this also you may deceived be,
Men may forsake all gross iniquity;
Yet in their Souls may some sweet morsel lye,
Which they may hug and keep close secretly.
They may sin leave, but not as it is sin;
Which has too often manifested bin.
If the least sin thou didst forsake aright,
All sin would then be odious in thy sight.
Judgement and Reason may your sins oppose,
And utterly refuse with them to close;
Yet may thy will and thy affections joyn,
To favour still and love those sins of thine.
If sin's not out of thy affection cast,
Thou wilt appear an Hypocrite at last.
If sin's i'th' will and in th'affections found,
'Tis a true sign thy heart is quite unsound.
Like to the Seaman, some Professors do,
Who over-board some Goods are forc'd to throw,
When they do meet with storms & with bad weather,
Lest all their Goods & Ship do sink together.
When in the Soul great storms and tempests rise,
The Devil then may subtilly advise
The Soul to throw some of its sins away,
To make a Calm, that so thereby he may
Perswade the Soul the danger is quite gone,
And, that the work in him is fully done.
'Tis not enough therefore some sins to leave,
But every sin you must resolve to heave
And cast o're-board, yea, and that willingly,
Or else you sink to all Eternity.
Not by constraint as Conscience doth compel,
As some are forc'd to do who like it well;
Who leave the Act, but love to it retain:
Such leave their sins, and yet their sins remain.

Youth.
These are hard sayings which you do relate,
And I indeed should question my estate
Were't not for other grounds and reasons clear,
By which I know that I converted were.
Sir! there's in me a very glorious change,
Most Men admire it, and do think it strange,
That one who lately did both scoff and jear
Those Men and People, which I now do hear;
And follow'd Vice and ev'ry vanity,
Should on a sudden thus reformed be:
And utterly my self also deny,
Of my sweet joys, and former Company,

Truth.
From outward filthiness a Man may turn,
And not be chang'd in heart when he has done,
A legal change I grant he may be under,
Yet may not Soul and Self be cut asunder.
An outward change in Men there may be wrought,
And yet their hearts within be very nought.
The Swine that wallows in the mire now,
May washed be, but still remains a Sow.
Persons may cleanse the out-side of the Cup,
And Dogs may spew their nasty Vomit up;
But yet do keep their beastly Nature still,
And e're a while they manifest it will.
Many Professors fall away and dy,
For want of being changed thorowly.
The Pharisee was chang'd, he did appear
As if indeed a precious Saint he were;
And differ'd quite from the poor Publican,
And thought himself a far more happy Man.
But all this was in shew, and not in heart;
And therefore had in Christ no share nor part.
Except your Righteousness doth his excel,
You in no wise shall in God's Kingdom dwell.
'Tis a false change, and cannot be a true,
Unless in you all things are wholly new.
Old Herod will reform in many things,
When once he finds his Conscience bites & stings;
To hear John Baptist also was he led,
Yet afterwards depriv'd him of his Head.
So far this seeming-Saint was turn'd aside,
That he also your Saviour did deride;
And with his Men of War set him at nought,
Whilst Accusations they against him sought.
Simon the Sorcerer, also you read,
Was changed so, he gave great care and heed.
To Philip's Preachings; yea, and suddenly
He leaves his Witch-crafts and his Sorcery;
And yet a cursed Caitife all the while,
Like a Sepulchre painted, inward vile.
Another Man in shew 'tis like thou art,
Yet not made new, and changed in thy heart.
Men in thy Life may no great blemish spy,
Yet in thy breast much rottenness may ly.
Toward all men thy Conscience may be clear,
Conscience so far may for thee witness bear,
That you in Morals it do not offend;
Yet unto God it may not you commend:
But contrar'wise it in your face may fly,
And you condemn for sin continually;
For secret evils which it's privy too,
Which none knows of, save only God and you.
Therefore, Oh! Young man, if you look about,
Of your Conversion you have cause to doubt.
Satan so greatly may your heart deceive,
That not one dram of Grace your Soul may have
Which saving is, and of the purest kind,
For that, alas! there's very few do find.

Youth.
But I am call'd of God, and do obey
The Voice of Truth and Conscience every day.
God's called Ones I'me sure you can't deny,
But they are such whom he doth Justifie:
Therefore 'tis clear and very evident,
That Grace alone hath made me penitent.
My heart is sound, my Graces true also,
My Confidence there's none shall overthrow.

Truth.
Thou seem'st too confident, 'tis a bad sign;
For fears attend where saving Grace doth shame.
I tell thee Youth, that many called be;
But few are chosen from Eternity.
Judas was call'd, and did obey in part,
And yet he was a Devil in his heart.
There is an outward, and an inward Call,
The latter only is effectual.
Therefore you must produce some better ground,
For this don't prove that your Conversion's sound;
But that thou may'st stick fast still in the birth,
Or prove Abortive when thou art brought forth.
'Tis rare, Oh Youth! for to be born anew;
And hard to find out when the work is true.

Youth.
Though it be so, what cause have I to fear,
When that my Evidences are so clear?
I do believe, and trust in God through Faith,
And he which so doth do, the witness hath
Within himself, and shall assuredly
Be saved also when he comes to dy.

Truth.
Thou mayst believe as most of People do,
And yet to Hell at last thy Soul may go.
The Faith of Credence it is like you have,
Which cannot quicken, purifie or save.
Some Jews believ'd in Christ you also find,
Yet to their Lusts their hearts were then inclin'd;
And out of Satans Kingdom were not freed,
Nor made Disciples of the Lord indeed.
Simon the Sorcerer, he did believe;
Yet did his Soul no saving Grace receive:
But was a Child of Satan ne're the less,
And still was in the Gall of bitterness.
The stony ground with joy receiv'd the seed,
And for a time brought forth, as you may read;
And yet their hearts they were but hearts of stone,
Their Faith was temporary, soon 'twas gone,
The Devils do believe as well as you,
Yea, and confess that Jesus they do know;
They tremble also, which some Men can't say,
They ever did unto this present day.
Such Faith as Devils have, most Men obtain,
Which serves for nought, save to augment their pain.
If on a Death-bed Conscience do awake,
'Twill cause them then to tremble and to quake,
And roar like Devils when they do espy,
The dreadful wrath of that great Majesty,
Whom they offended, and against their Light,
And knowledge too, most wickedly did slight.
This Faith will serve their grief to aggravate,
But not to help them out of that estate.
'Tis easie to believe that Christ did dy;
But hard his blood in Truth for to apply.
Men may raise up the dead to life again,
As easie as true saving Faith obtain
By their own Power, an inherent skill,
Nought doth oppose it more than Mans own will;
Untill Almighty Power makes it bend,
'Twill not to Grace, nor Jesus condescend.
That Pow'r which rais'd up Jesus from the dead,
Works Faith in Saints, whereby they'r quickened:
The Faith of Credence, and Hystorical,
Is easie had, I ne'er deny it shall;
But precious Faith, the Faith of God's Elect,
As 'tis a Grace, and gloriously bedeckt
With other Graces, so, 'twill never grow
But in the honest heart, where God doth sow
The blessed Seed, which, like a Garden pure,
Doth yield its fruits to th'last, you may be sure.
And when this Faith is wrought in any Soul,
It throws down self, and wholly then doth rowl
On Jesus Christ, as its beloved one,
On whom it rests, and doth depend alone.
If God hath wrought this precious Grace in thee,
Sin thou dost hate, yea, all Iniquity;
And Lust doth not predominate and reign,
If thou by Faith art truly born again.
Christ thou exalt'st as he is Priest and King,
And as thy Prophet too in every thing:
He does in thee wholly the Scepter sway,
And thou art govern'd by him every day.
Sin can't prevail, such is thy happy case,
If thou hast got this rare victorious Grace:
It purges and doth purifie thy heart,
Wholly renewing thee in every part.
Men by its fruits true Faith do come to know,
And by their works the same do also show;
What Faith is thine? what think'st thou now of it?
I greatly fear 'twill prove a counterfeit.
Examine thy Estate, and take good heed,
To close with Jesus Christ, and that with speed.
For as th'Body without the Spirit's dead;
The same of Faith you know is also sed.
Without Obedience doth thy Faith attend;
Yet for all this you'l perish in the end.

Youth.
I am obedient, and am free to joyn
In fellowship with Saints, such Faith is mine:
I willing am to do, as to believe;
The Devil can't therefore my Soul deceive.
For I have clos'd with Christ already so,
That none my Faith shall ever overthrow.
The many Prayers I make both day and night,
Do doubtless prove that my Conversion's right.

Truth.
I tell thee Soul, Men may do more than this,
And yet they may of true Conversion miss.
God's Ordinances many do obey,
And Members of God's holy Church are they.
And of its Priviledges seem to share,
As if that they truly Converted were.
They may discourse, and seem to be devout,
And may not be discerned, nor found out.
They with the Flock may walk, lie down and feed
And so remain till many years succeed:
Nay, not discovered be until they stand
Amongst the Goats at Jesus Christs left-hand.
The foolish Virgins joyn'd themselves with wise,
And for to meet the Bridegroom did arise:
But e're the Bridegroom came their case was sad,
For they nought else save empty Vessels had.
A bare Profession, and a meer out-side;
And did no Oyl, no saving Grace provide.
Many great Preachers, and Disputers too,
Christ will not own, nor any favour shew;
Though in his Name they mighty works have done,
He'l say to them, ye wicked ones, be gone,
I know you not, therefore be gone from me
All you vile workers of Iniquity.
You say oft-times you seek the Lord in Prayer;
That you may do, and let fall many a tear,
And yet not be in a converted state:
For many seek with tears when 'tis too late.
Others like Seamen, in a storm do cry,
When Conscience doth rebuke them bitterly.
And some under Affliction cry and howl,
And grievously their state do then condole;
Then Promises and Resolutions make,
That they such Courses will no longer take:
But when the storm and the affliction's o're,
They are as bad, nay worser than before.
Some Pray in Form, and others Pray by Art,
And some to mend the badness of their Heart;
Their hearts are wounded, and then speedily,
Their Pray'rs to heal it, they do straight apply.
They sin i'th day, and Pray when it is night;
They sin again, but Pray'r doth heal it quite.
They think 'tis well if Tears they can let fall,
Their Prayers and Tears they think will cure all.
And so that way poor Conscience they beguile,
They silence him; yet sinners all the while.
Their Pray'rs, alas! can't wash their filth away,
Though they do nothing else both night and day.
'Tis on their prayers they rest, and do depend;
Which like a broken staff will fail i'th' end
A Saint in Prayer, no rest nor ease can gain,
Unless Christs blood thereby he doth obtain:
And Grace also his sins to mortify,
For Christ, as well as Pardon, he doth cry.
But contrariwise it is with most of Men,
They cry for Pardon, but do also then
In their vile hearts regard iniquity;
And for this cause God doth their suit deny.
Their Prayers are to God abomination,
Whil'st they do hide and cover their transgression.
Some out of Custom do perform their Prayer,
Not out of Conscience, or from godly care,
And others also for vain-glory sake,
Like Pharisees, they many Prayers make.
In sight of Men, in Publick such will pray,
But in the Closet little have to say.
And some to God also seem to draw near,
Yet not in love, nor out of filial fear,
They with their mouths & tongues much kindness show,
When as their hearts are fixt on things below.
'Tis for the heart which Christ doth chiefly call,
And reason 'tis that he should have it all.
For he the same did buy and purchase dear,
Yet Satan has the chief possession there.
God at the door, and in the porch doth stand,
While Satan may the bravest room command.
They'l ope to him, and keep Jehovah out,
And yet in Pray'r they seem to be devout.
There's some will pray, and up this Duty keep,
When th'Soul is quite, and th'Body near asleep.
VVho ever prays, and prays not fervently,
In Faith, in Truth, and in Sincerity;
Their Prayers are sin, and them God will not hear,
Nor mind their cry when they to him draw near.
'Tis not enough a Duty for to know,
But how also each Duty you should do:
For Men may Pray, Read, Hear, and Meditate;
And yet be in an unconverted state.
They outwardly may many Truths profess,
But not in heart the pow'r of them possess.
The Law i'th' Letter keep, yea have the shell;
Yet seeds on husks, and want the true kernel.
The Young-man which to Jesus Christ did run,
He many things as well as you had done;
And yet fell short, as you may plainly see,
Of the chief part of true Christianity.
What say ye now, O Youth, do you not fear,
That you by Satan much deceived are?
Have you no Dalila which secretly
Doth in your heart, or in your bosom ly?
Don't you to sin some secret love retain?
If it be so, you are not born again.
Conscience I fear, and God's restraining Grace,
Has only stopt you in your former race.
Like to a Dog that's kept up by a Chain,
So Conscience does from sin oft times restrain.
But if the Chain should slip, then loose he goes;
And presently his churlish nature shows.
To your own Righteousness do you not trust?
I fear you do, come speak, or Conscience must.
Don't you conclude God is oblig'd to you,
Since you have let so many evils go?
And are so holy here of late become,
Are not your duties set up in the room
And place of Christ? Oh! see you do not make
A Saviour of your own (for Jesus sake)
Did ever sin, sinful to you appear?
And, as 'tis sin, to it great hatred bear:
Would you not sin, were there no Hell of pain,
Because you know the Lord doth it disdain?
Rather, is't not from fear of punishment,
That you of late seem thus for to relent?
Or, doth there not some carnal base design,
Move thee so far unto God's Truth to joyn?
Is not thy end to get a name thereby?
Or only done, Conscience to satisfie?
Or done to free thee from reproach and shame,
Which sin doth bring upon a Person's Name?
Ha'st not it done, and wisely cast about
This way, for to prevent a bankerout?
Or done for to augment thy outward store,
To save thy stock, and add unto it more?
For Riotous Living which attends thy Age,
Consumes a pace, and want it doth presage.
Come speak, O Youth, and be thou not unfree,
To let me understand how 'tis with thee.
Come, call to mind what thou hast heard of late,
And thereby judge of this thy present state.

Youth.
I do not see but my condition's good,
I have such hope & Faith in Christ's dear blood:
Though many imperfections I do see,
Yet God is gracious, and will pardon me.
For many failings there is in the best:
What is amiss, I'le mend, and so do rest.

Truth.
Conscience, I do i'th' Name of the great King,
Require you forth your evidence to bring
Against this Man, accuse, or set him free,
According as you find his state to be:
Stand up for Christ your dread & Soveraign Lord,
And Judge for him as he doth Light afford.
Be not deceiv'd by Lust, a Bribe to take,
But Judge by Law; Christ's honour lies at stake.
For to speak home and loud have you forgot?
Is he converted now, or is he not?
What do you say? your Testimony give:
Is all sin dead, or doth there any live?
Is he new born, and chang'd in every part?
Or is't in shew only, and not in heart?

Conscience.
Sir, say no more, I am at your Command,
And you shall hear how things at present stand.
He hath, O Truth, almost deceived me
By's late pretences unto Sanctity:
But having now a fresh receiv'd more light,
I must declare he is an Hypocrite.
He's not renew'd or truly born again,
Which I to you shall clearly now explain.
For, first of all, his Faculty, call'd Will,
That is perverse and very wicked still;
Though I stir up to good every hour,
Will doth oppose it with his greatest pow'r.
He'll never pray in private day nor night:
But I must force him to't with all my might.
The old man is not slain I do espy,
But has much favour shown him secretly.
Though I do force him into holes to run,
Yet he doth nourish him when all is done.
His Love and his Affections are for sin,
And so in truth they ever yet have bin.
He's troubl'd more at sin because of guilt,
Than at the Odium of its cursed filth
When he's abroad amongst Religious Men,
Precise and Zealous he is always then:
But when amongst such who ungodly be,
He suits himself to their vile company.
Some sins are left which Men condemn as gross,
Yet one he keeps, and hugs it very close:
Lust doth bear rule and much predominate,
And he on it doth love to ruminate.
'Tis shame and outward fear doth him restrain,
Or else the act he would commit again.
If he from outward blots can keep his Name,
That Saints can't him accuse nor justly blame,
He's satisfied, and very well content,
Though to his Peace I never gave consent.
Peace he oft-times doth speak unto his Soul,
And scarce will suffer me him to controul.
When I sometimes do catch him in a lye,
And do reprove him for Hypocrisie:
To stop my Mouth he vowes he will with speed
Amend what is amiss, and take more heed.
And more than this of him I could relate,
And shew how you have hit his present state:
But that he will not suffer me to speak,
He blinds my eyes, that so I might not rake
Into his heart and life, lest he thereby
Meets with great shame for his iniquity.

Truth.
Conscience, forbear, you need not to inlarge;
If you do lay these things unto his charge.
He is undone, alas! his pretious Soul
Is under wrath, who can enough condole
His sad estate! the Gospel he'l profess,
But still remains i'th gall of bitterness.
Is this the Saint which seemed so precise,
And did appear God's Statutes much to prize?
A Saint in shew, a Devil in his heart;
And must with Devils also have his part.
The day is coming, and is very near,
When Hypocrits shall be surpriz'd with fear;
The everlasting burning fiery Lake,
Is made more hot on purpose for their sake.
But since you are not sear'd, nor I yet gone,
Before we leave him quite, do you go on:
Let us pursue him still, for who doth know
What God may yet upon his Spirit do?
If God grant him one dram of saving Grace,
That will yet do; though 'tis a doubtful case,
Whether or no God will his Grace afford
To such as he, who thus offend the Lord.
For such whom Satan doth this way deceive,
'Tis hard to bring truly for to believe.
He never was convinced thorowly,
Of Sin, and of his nat'ral misery.
His lost estate he truly never saw,
Nor what it is for to transgress God's Law.
How he's undone thereby he never knew,
Nor what for sin original is due.
And as he did for sin ne're kindly bleed;
So of a Christ he never saw the need.
Th'absolute want and great necessity
Of Jesus Christ, he never did espy:
But on false bottoms he has built 'tis clear;
I do conjure you therefore to declare
Him utterly unclean from top to toe,
And let him understand you are his Foe.
The Plaugue is in his head, and no place free,
But in his heart it rages vehemently.
Lance him unto the quick, and make him feel,
Lay on such blows as may cause him to reel.

Conscience.
Come, come, O Young-man, listen unto me,
I will no longer thus deceived be.
I from God's Word Commission have anew,
To tell thee what is like for to ensue;
For all thy hopes and seeming goodly show,
Thou art a wretched sinner thou dost know.
Think'st thou on Conscience to commit a Rape,
And yet God's dreadful vengeance to escape?
Dar'st thou again under a new disguise,
Encounter with thy former Enemies?
You are the same I am sure although you have
Changed your Coat, poor Mortals to deceive.
Ungodly wretch! dost thou not dread my Name,
Who'm come once more against thee to proclaim
A second War, and to declare also,
God's still thy Enemy and bitter Foe.
His Sword is whet, his Bow he'l also bend,
To cut down those that do, like thee offend.
Nought he hates more than vile Hypocrisy,
And from his Presence, Youth, thou canst not fly.

Youth.
Conscience, be still, though I a sinner be,
Ther's none doth know it now save onely thee.

Conscience.
Deceived Soul! doth none know it but I?
Where's the great God, is he not also nigh?
Dost think, vain Youth, the interposing Cloud,
From God's all-searching Eye can be a shroud?
Or dost thou think God's Seat is so on high,
That he cannot thy inward thoughts espy?
None know't but me! know'st thou not who I am?
Have I not pow'r for to accuse, and damn?
Should I be still, it would be a sad day,
Unless thy sins were purged clean away.
And whilst I speak, and thou dost stop thine Ear,
Nothing but War and Tumults thou wilt hear.
I'le never side with thee, nor take thy part,
Whilst horrid guilt remains in thy base heart.
Nor would I mind thy flattery or frown,
Wert thou the highest Prince of great'st Renown.
That ever did on Earth a Scepter sway,
Before thy face I would thy evils lay.
At th'smallest sin before I can't connive;
And therefore with me 'tis in vain to strive.
For where I am an Enemy indeed,
I'le plague that heart until I make it bleed,
A close and secret Foe, Young-man, am I,
Who am also with thee continually.
What e're you think or speak, yea, act or do,
Of it (poor Soul) I very well do know:
Thy secret Lust, and what is done i'th' night,
Which thou ashamed art should come to light.
I then am nigh, and know it very well,
And more than this I am resolv'd to tell;
I unto thee shall prove an Enemy,
When thou art brought into Adversity;
When death and sickness comes, then thou shalt see
How thou with horror shalt amazed be.
Then my black Bill against thee will be large,
For then against thee I will bring a Charge,
Which will make thy sad face like Ashes look,
And wound thy Soul as if a Knife was struck
Into thy very heart, and make thee mourn,
And curse the day that ever thou wast born.
I'le make thee understand (clearly) i'th' end,
VVhat 'tis (vile wretch) poor Conscience to offend.
Heark once again, for I have more to say;
VVhen this life's ended, there's another day.
Look now about thee, Youth, for there's to come,
The black, the dark, and dreadful day of Doom.
VVhen thou dost dye, I'le bite and sting thy Soul,
Whilst that in flames doth burn and doth condole
Its damned state for yielding unto sin,
VVhich has alone the ruine of it bin.
And also when i'th' Judgement Day you stand
Amongst the Goats at Jesus Christ's left hand,
Thy dreadful state and tryal for to hear,
Then I against thee straitway must appear;
Yea, and shall speak more plain than now I can,
Because I'me clouded by the Fall of Man;
And am by Satan oftentimes misled,
And utterly unable rendered
A true and right decision for to make,
He so beguiles me that I do mistake,
And a wrong Judgement oftentimes retain,
Till Truth sets me into the right again.
But Satan then shall no more power have,
The heart of any Man for to deceive.
I in that day shall you provoke and urge,
For to confess with shame before the Judge,
Thy evil Lust and close Hypocrisie,
Unto thy own Eternal misery.
I shall accuse thee so in that great Day,
Thou shalt not have one word (Young-man) to say,
Thy inward parts so opened then shall be,
That nothing shall be hid i'th' least from me,
And I before the dreadful Judge shall show,
All secret things that ever you did do;
And in your face so fiercely also fly,
That you with horror shall be forc'd to cry,
Guilty, guilty, O Lord! then thou must hear
The dreadful Sentence, which no one can bear;
Go, go, ye Cursed! that's a word of ire,
And you must down into Eternal fire,
VVhere Hypocrits and Unbelievers lye,
Broyling in pain to all Eternity.
And as the fire evermore will burn,
And thou from thence shalt never more return:
So also shall then afflict thy Soul,
VVhilst thou in scalding Sulphur flames dost roul.
I like a VVorm, or Serpent, then will bite,
And gnaw thy Soul, thou cursed Hypocrite.
Those inward stings which always thou wilt find,
Or cruel gnawings in thy torrur'd mind.
Will then increase and aggravate thy woe,
In such a sort there is no Tongue can show.
You then will think how you did me abuse,
And my good Counsel utterly refuse.
And how you labour'd to put out my Light,
Who in God's paths would lead your feet aright.
Your base delays and put-offs you'l repent.
And that your time so foolishly was spent:
That you for love which unto Lust you bore,
Should lose your Soul, and that for evermore.
To think how near you were unto Salvation,
Will prove another grievous aggravation:
To bid so fair for Heaven, yet to miss;
What greater trouble can there be than this?
To see the Ship i'th' mouth o'th' Haven lost,
That doth, ye know, perplex the Merchant most.
I'le tell you also how you wilfully
Brought on your self that dreadful misery:
And how I did oftimes to you declare,
The bitter torments which you then must bear:
And what your Pride and Lust would bring you to,
If you did not resolve to let them go.
Ah! thou wilt see how thou art quite undone,
And how all hopes for evermore are gone.
Thoughts of those golden Seasons once you had,
And vainly lost, will then be very sad.
Thou might'st, hadst thou improv'd the means of Grace,
Beheld with Saints God's reconciled face
And enter'd Paradise, where Angels sing
Anthems of Joy to the Eternal King:
Thou might'st have sung to him melodious Psalms
With those whose hands shall bear triumphant Palms;
Who with Eternal Love shall ravish'd be,
Reigning with Christ to all Eternity.
Heaven is a place whose glory doth excel;
The thousand part of it no tongue can tell.
Man's heart (Truth says) cannot i'th' least conceive
What those shall have who truly do believe.
Who would lose Christ and his immortal treasure?
For one base Lust and moments time of pleasure?
But if what's said of Heav'n will not invite thee,
Then let hell torments with black vengeance fright thee
And make thee yield to truth without delays,
Before God put's a period to thy days.
As Eye can neither see, nor Tongue express
The glory which God's Saints in Heav'n possess:
So there's no Man which can conceive the woe,
That Souls shut up in Hell do undergo
If Men could number all the Stars of Heaven,
Or count the Dust which with the wind is driven;
Or tell the drops of water in the Seas,
Or count the Sands; then might a man with ease
Declare the nature of that dreadful pain,
Which damned Souls for ever must sustain.
But Stars, nor Dust, nor Drops, nor Sands can be
Number'd by any Man, neither can he
Express the nature of God's dreadful ire,
Which Souls lye under in Eternal fire.
In Hell all's darkness, not one beam of Light:
What's greater sorrow than Eternal Night?
In Hell all's Death, and yet there is no dying,
Nought there is heard but a most hideous crying.
Their pains end not, from it there's no exemption,
Their cries admit no help, there's no redemption,
Nor none to pity them, nor hear their groans,
Whilst they do make their lamentable moans.
The Lord who dy'd will then rejoyce to see,
Vengeance pour'd forth upon those Souls that be
Vessels of Wrath, who for rejecting Grace
Must have their portion in that doleful place.
No Earthly pain or torment can declare,
The woful Anguish which the Damned bear:
For if those Plagues could be defin'd by Men,
Infinite punishment 'twould not be then.
Infinite Wrath it is to satisfie;
And God, be sure, will Justice magnifie.
Didst thou but hear the groans and hideous cry
Of Souls condemned to Eternity,
How would it scare, and cause thy Heart to ake,
And every limb of thee tremble and quake!
Think, think on this, before the time doth come
That God doth pass on thee thy final Doom.

Truth.
What say'st thou now? how can'st thou sleep in peace,
Until these inward gripes of Conscience cease?
How can'st thou think i'th' least thy state is good,
When Conscience swels & makes so great a flood?
Or raises storms and tempests in thy breast?
Because of sin he will not let thee rest.
Come, make a search, Conscience is not misled,
The very Truth before you he has spread.
VVhat will you do at death and Judgement Day,
If Conscience thus you slight and disobey?
Make peace with God, for worser are his cryes,
Than if ten thousand witnesses should rise
Against thy Soul; 'twill be a dreadful thing
To have thy Conscience then to bite and sting.

Youth.
Some comfort, Truth, alas my Soul doth melt,
Such gripes as these what Man has ever felt?
I have some doubt my state is very nought,
And that Conversion is not truly wrought.
My heart condemns me, and doth me reprove;
'Tis thou alone which can my grief remove.

Truth.
Before you have a Plaister for your sore,
Your wound must yet be search'd a little more:
If slightly heal'd only for present ease,
The Remedy's as bad as the Disease.
Dost know what time thou didst this wound receive
'Tis worser far, I fear, than you believe:
'Tis deep, it stinks, yea, and 'tis venemous;
And doth expose thee to God's dreadful Curse.
The sting or dart sticks fast too in thy Liver,
VVhich doth thy smart and bitter pains procure.
Thy state is bad, thou hast thy mortal wound,
No Limb, or any part of thee, is sound.
If thou couldst live, and never more offend,
Yet by the Law thy Soul is quite condemn'd.
If from all actual sin you should be clear,
Yet by the Law you still most guilty are
Of former Crimes, Treason and Fellony,
And justice doth aloud for Vengeance cry,
Nor will she Pardon or Reprieve give forth
To any Sinner living on the Earth.
Against thee too the Sentence is forth gone,
And th'Day of Execution doth draw on;
Nought is between thee and eternal Death;
But some short hours of uncertain breath.
Sin is so vile, and Justice so severe,
That in the least 'twould not Christ Jesus spare;
But Justice he must fully satisfie,
Who came to be man's blest Security.
And since in Christ thou hast no share nor part,
See what a self-condemed Soul thou art.

Youth.
O cursed Sin! is this my sad condition.
Truth I believe hath made a right decision.
I have my Soul deceived all along,
Though in my heart Convictions oft were strong.
Oh! horrid Lust, and base deceitful Devil,
Is this the fruit of your sweet-pleasing evil?
And thou false World, what art thou now to me?
For I alas I am ruined by thee.
O whether shall I fly? what path untrod?
For to escape th'incensed wrath of God?
Will none for me some secret place provide,
Where I from flaming Vengeance close may hide.

Truth.
Vain is all this, for none can find a place
To hide from God (such is thy bitter case)
If to the ends of all the Earth you fly,
Vengeance will you pursue with Hue and Cry:
If you should take a sudden hasty flight,
To seek some shelter in the shades of Night;
'Twould also fail thee, though it should be done:
For unto God Darkness and Light is one.
Or, if thou couldst some solid Rock espy,
To hide thee from God's dreadful Majesty.
Can Rocks, dost think, prevent, yea, or restrain
The stroke of Justice, and not fly in twain?
There is no Sea, nor Shade, nor Rock, nor Cave
Which can from Vengeance shelter thee or save.
The Sea would part, the hardest Rock will split:
Where Justice aims, her fiery Darts must hit.
Canst thou escape, alas! what place is there
To hide from him who's present ev'ry where?

Youth.
Oh Truth! what shall I do, how can I stand,
Or bear these tortures of God's heavy hand?
My Spirit may infirmities sustain,
But who can bear this inward cutting pain
Is there no help, no Salve to heal my Wound;
What, no Physitian for me to be found!
Will Tears nor Prayers no help at all afford,
Watchings, Fastings, nor Hearing of the Word?
Or if that I could live and sin no more,
O what is sin, and what's my Gangrene sore!
O what's the nature of iniquity,
If nought my Soul can cleanse or purifie?
Rivers of Oyl, much Gold, or Earthly Wealth.
Will not redeem my Soul, nor purchase health.
Ah! I am lost! the cause is truly so,
I am undone, and know not what to do!
Have you no word of Comfort now for me?
Oh! must I dye in this extremity?

Truth.
Dost find thy self sick at the very heart?
And doth my searchings make thy Wounds to smart
Doth sin, as sin, upon thy Spiritly?
And doth its weight and burden make thee cry?
Dost know thy Wound is Epidemical?
And that for thee there is no help at all
By Law nor Levite? dost thou see thy loss,
And thy own Righteousness to be but dross?

Youth.
I know not what to say, I am in doubt
Some sin is hid, which yet I can't find out.
My heart is deep and very traiterous;
Every day I find it worse and worse.
I grieve for sin, and yet I am in dread
That I in sin am greatly hardened.
Yet this, O Truth, I hope is wrought in me,
Sin I do hate as 'tis Iniquity.
I would not Christ offend nor grieve again,
Were there no Hell or place of future pain:
O that e're I against the Lord should sin,
Who has to me so good and gracious bin!
Against the Lord, against the Lord alone,
Have I this horrid evil often done.
Oh! I do see that I in sin am dead,
And my iniquity's gone o're my head,
As a great burden which I cannot bear,
Oh! that I might but of a Saviour hear.
All my own Righteousness I prize no more
Than stinking refuse of a Common-shore.

Truth.
Come Youth, chear up, if this be so indeed,
I tell thee then Christ for thy Soul did bleed.
Glad tydings now I unto thee do bring,
There's Mercy for thee in the Heav'nly King.
Christ to appease God's Wrath did hither come,
And I am sent by him to call thee home.
Rise up, rise up, his blood for to apply,
And thou shalt soon be healed perfectly.

Youth.
Ah! could I but believe what thou dost say
Unto my Soul, 'twould be a joyful day.
Alas! on me a mighty burden lies,
I cannot stir, nor power have to rise.
Can Lazarus, who in the grave doth lye,
Death's cruel Fetters and strong Bands unty?
Can he awake? what pow'r has he to strive,
When dead, and stinks? alas! he can't revive,
Although dead but four days: then how shall I,
Who have lay'n dead in my iniquity
Ever since Adam (as it plain appears)
Which is indeed above five thousand years?
Jehovah which at first my heart did make,
Must by his Pow'r it into pieces take;
That so he may create my heart a-new,
E're good from Christ doth to my Soul accrue,
'Tis he must give me pow'r to will and do,
And raise me up e're I can creep or go.

Truth.
Though that be true, yet hearken unto me,
And take the Councel which I'le give to thee?
And thou shalt find, as sure as God's above,
He will thy Fears and all thy Doubts remove,
And raise thee up out of the empty Pit,
And on a Rock also still set thy feet.
First thing of all which to you I commend,
Be sure you don't your Conscience more offend,
Do not grieve that, but always take great care
In every thing to prove your self sincere.
He that in Morals walks not faithfully,
Mo marvel 'tis if Christ do pass him by.
In ev'ry Nation those excepted are,
Who walk uprightly, and the Lord do fear!
Those who do follow on to know the Lord,
He will to them his saving help afford.
I do exhort you in the second place,
For to attend upon all means of grace.
Do not neglect to hear God's blessed Word,
But prize each season which the precious Lord
Is pleas'd in Mercy on you to bestow,
For unto you thereby much good will flow.
My third advice, make use of speedily,
Lift up your voice unto the Lord on high!
Pour forth your Soul to him both night and day,
And you'l prevail, though he at first say nay.
Though you at first may with repulses meet,
Your Soul yet prostrate at Jehovahs feet.
He's full of bowels, long he can't refrain
E're he comes forth to ease you of your pain.
Thy Prayers, and Tears, and spiritual contrition,
Will move his heart to send thee a Physitian,
Who will apply a Plaister to thy wound,
Which will hereafter ever make thee sound.
Christ's blood will heal, 'twill cleanse and purify,
If now the same by Faith you do apply.
Such grief is thine, no Med'cine will do good,
Nor heal thy Soul, but thy dear Saviour's blood.
The good Samaritan will cast a look,
Though thou of Priest and Levite art forsook?
Into thy Wounds he'l pour in Oyl and Wine,
The which will heal that bleeding Soul of thine.
O Cry to God, my Sister Grace to send,
'Tis she at last will prove thy special Friend.
If God is pleased but to send her down,
Thy head with Glory she will straight way crown.
But here I'le advertise thee first of all,
Be sure you do for the right Sister call:
For there are two, and both of one Sir-name,
The one is lovely fair, the other lame.
The one is common, th'other chast and pure,
And will be true to thee thou mayst be sure.
The one will dwell where sin predominates,
The other loaths, and bitterly it hates,
And makes a thorow-change where she doth dwell,
And will all filth out of that heart expel,
Where she doth take up her sure resting-place;
Rare is the nature of true saving Grace.
Thy stubborn will she'l make for to submit,
And thy affections change as she thinks fit.
Thy heart she can new-mould, and make it soft,
And will bring down each high and sinful thought,
The Old-man she will into pieces tear,
She'l cut and kill, and nothing will she spare,
That's opposite unto the Prince of Light,
She'l put the Devil to a speedy flight;
She'l make him leave his strongest hold, and run,
And quite forsake his former Garison.
She'l take no pity on the Old-man's Age,
She'l pay him off for all his wrath and Rage,
And cursed Malice, Pride and every sin,
Which of long time he has the Author bin.
'Tis she can work upon the Covetous,
And change his heart to keep an open-house,
To give and to distribute of his store,
To th'cloathing and refreshing of the Poor.
'Tis she brings down the proud and lofty mind,
Which nat'rally was to that vice inclin'd.
'Tis she can tame the wild strong headed Youth,
And make the Lyar always tell the truth.
'Tis she which makes the froward very meek,
And the revengeful not revenge to seek.
'Tis she which quenches Young-mens lustful fire,
And makes them to disdain that base desire.
'Tis she will make thy Soul for to defie.
Each Dalilah, and all Hypocrisie
She's like to Oyl and Wine, and veil give peace
And inward joy, which never more shall cease
'Tis she must put Christ's blessed Robes on thee,
And bring thy soul out of Captivity.
'Tis she must thee adorn and beautifie,
And make thee lovely in Christ Jesus Eye.
Oh! she'l inflame thy Soul with precious love
To Christ alone, which none shall e're remove.
'Tis she which tyes that conjugal blest knot,
Which can't be broke, nor ever be forgot.
'Tis she that makes Christ and the Saints but one,
And makes them of his very flesh and bone.
'Tis she will help thee in this time of need,
Yea, a Disciple will make thee indeed.
And this to thee also I must declare,
Thou of this Grace shalt have a part and share.
Since 'twas for thee thy precious Lord did dy,
He can't thy Soul of saving Grace deny,
Give him no rest, 'till more he doth give forth,
For to compleat in thee the second Birth,
Be earnest with him, strive to hold him fast,
And thou, like Jacob, wilt prevail at last.
Though he at first may seem to stop his Ear,
Yet importunity will make him hear.
Thy time I'm sure it is the time of love,
And thy deep wounds will make him from above
To pity thee, and for to cast an eye,
As thou polluted in thy blood dost lye;
What e're is needful to thee he will give,
And raise thee up to life, and make thee live;
Yea, manifest to thee such consolation,
As for to cloath thee with his own Salvation.
Come, make a tryal, and do not despair,
Look up to Heaven, Soul, thy help is there.

Youth.

Iesus.
What voice is this? who is't that makes this cry?
What sinful Wretch is in extremity,
That thus implores for help, and follows me?
That takes no nay, although I silent be?

Youth.
Lord, 'tis a poor dejected piece of Earth,
That is undone, and sighs for a new birth.

Iesus.
Was I not sent only to Jacob's race?
How com'st thou then to have so bold a face
To importune me, when ye know full well
You are not of the stock of Israel?
Come you not of the cursed Gentile seed?
Be gone from me, and further don't proceed.

Youth.
Ah! help, dear Lord, and some compassion show
For to whom else, or whither can I go?

Iesus.
Is't meet that I should give to Dogs that Bread,
With which the Children should be nourished?

Youth.
True, Lord that I do grant, and evershall:
Yet may the Dogs eat up those Crums which fall
From their own Master's Table: though a whelp,
Lord, look on me, O precious Saviour, help.

Iesus.
What ailest thou, poor Soul, what's thy condition,
Which makes thee shed these tears of sad contrition?

Youth.
My grief, my pain, and great extremitie,
Lord, thou dost know, and all my wants dost see.
Ah! I have sinn'd, and am so vile and base,
I hate my self, and loath my present case.
I am a lump of filth, wholly unclean,
A viler Creature there has never been.
I languish, Lord, my wounds they are not small:
And I have wounded thee, that's worst of all.

Iesus.
Come, cease thy grief, what is't thou dost desire?
My Soul doth melt, my heart is set on fire;
My bowels yearn, I longer can't refrain
From tears, as well as thee I am in pain:
Thy wounds afflict me, and thy bitter cry
Doth pierce my heart, I know thy misery.
What is it, Soul? speak forth thy mind to me;
What dost thou crave, or shall I do for thee?
Come, ope thy heart to me, for I am nigh
Thy suit to grant, thy wants for to supply.

Youth.
'Tis not for Riches, nor for Pleasures here,
Nor Honours, which by men so prized are,
Nor length of days, Lord do I seek or crave,
'Tis something else my Soul doth long to have.
The Earth's a blast, and all the World's a bubble:
There's nothing in't can ease me of my trouble.
Such is my state, nought but thy hand can save,
'Tis thou must raise dead Laz'rus from the grave.
Knock off these bolts, and set thy Prisoner free.
And give thy grace (Lord Jesus) unto me.
My fainting Spirit comfort and refresh,
O spare my Soul, but crucifie the flesh;
Compleat thy Work (Lord Jesus) on my heart,
And thy own Righteousness to me impart.
There's nought I see will do me any good,
Save the dear Merit of thy precious blood.
My bleeding Soul will faint away and dye,
If thou dost not thy blood with speed apply.
How has my panting breast sent many groan,
With bitter tears, up to thy gracious Throne,
For one sweet look and aspect of thine eye?
There's nothing else which will me satisfie:
Oh! manifest thy Love unto my Soul,
For that will cure me, and soon make me whole.
My gasping Soul's dissolved into tears.
Whiles pleas'd with hopes, and yet possess'd with fears:
My great request, alas! is only this,
Come seal thy Love to me with a sweet kiss:
For nought is there in Earth, nor Heaven above,
Which I esteem or Value like thy Love.
A Promise grant, some word to lie upon,
Before my life and little hopes are gone.
My Soul's afraid, and trembles thou dost see,
Because I know how I unworthy be:
Ah! I have made thee bleed, I am so vile;
Thy frowns I do deserve but not one smile
How did I grieve and put thy Soul to pain!
The thoughts of it doth cut my heart in twain.
Thy Messengers, how did my Soul refuse!
And my poor Conscience wickedly abuse:
Who did receive Commission from above,
Either to clear, or sharply to reprove.
I unto Truth oft-times turn'd a deaf ear,
And unto Satan rather did adhere.
I slighted thee, and sin I did embrace,
Which shames me greatly to look in thy face.
If thou shouldst pardon such a one as I,
And save my Soul to all Eternity,
And me embrace in a contract of love,
And all thy wrath for every quite remove:
It would be Grace and Love beyond degree,
And such which never can expressed be,
O, wilt thou speak again! dear Saviour do,
A Promise, Lord, or I'le not let thee go.

Iesus.
What Faith hast thou, poor Soul, canst thou believes
And stedfastly my benefits receive?
Do'st think that I have power and a heart
To save, to help, and free thee from thy smart?

Youth.
My Faith, alas! is weak, O send relief!
Lord, I believe, O help my unbelief!
That precious Voice which I did lately hear,
Will soon remove my doubts, and all my fear.
If Love as well as pity thou dost show,
'Twill give me joy, and take away my woe.
But thou may'st, Lord, my Soul commiserate,
And yet may I be in a dying state.
Over Jerusalem thou didst lament,
Who had no saving Grace for to repent,
Is there in thee such bowels of compassion,
As to bestow thy self and thy Salvation
On such a Worm as I, whose wounded breast,
Is heavy loaded, and would fain have rest?
O help, dear Lord; my fainting Soul will dy,
Without an answer from thee speedily,

Iesus.
Look up to me, and see my Love descending,
Tis from Eternity, and has no ending.
Canst thou have more, dear Soul? thou hast my heart;
What e're is mine, to thee I will impart.
Thy scarlet sins are washed quite away,
Not one of them unto thy charge I'le lay.
Pull up thy drooping heart, be of good chear,
Thy sins, though nere so great, forgiven are,
I able am to save to th'uttermost,
All those who do in me put all their trust.
Those which do come to me, I in no wise
Will cast them out, therefore lift up thine eyes:
Behold my hands and feet, and do not doubt,
For I have washt and cleans'd thy Soul throughout.
Thy debts I've paid, and quitted the old score;
Thy former faults I'le ne're remember more.
Enter the Royal Fort, thou hast obtain'd
Th'fountain of pleasure, holy love unstain'd:
Take up thy Lodging in Eternal Love.
What's here below? thy treasure is above.
Chear up, poor heart, I tell thee thou art mine,
My blood was shed to save that Soul of thine:
With endless joys thy Soul I'le satisfie,
And in my Bosom ever shalt thou lie.
In my enfolded Arms I now thee take,
And do engage I'le never thee forsake.
In th'fire and in the water I'le be neer,
And help thee through all grief and troubles here;
Yea, I'le be with thee always to the end,
And Death at last I'le cause to be thy Friend;
And make its passage also unto thee,
Only an entrance to felicity.
Rivers of Pleasures thou shalt have to th'brim,
Wherein the Prophets and Apostles swim:
And with great Glory thou shalt crowned be,
And on the Throne sit down also with me.
World, Death, nor Devil ever shall remove
My heart from thee; for those I truly love,
I love to th'end: Ah! Soul 'tis thou shalt lie,
In my own Arms to all Eternity.

Youth.
Darkness is gone, day-light begins to spring;
Heavens melody I find's the sweetest thing.
The Sun is risen now, it is broke forth,
And gloriously enlightens my dark earth.
My Soul is ravish'd with this joyful sight,
Yea, and dissolv'd with love and true delight:
My heart is melted with Cœlestial fire,
And has obtain'd at length it's own desire,
My frozen Soul must needs run down amain,
Which such hot beams from Jesus doth obtain:
The door is open'd, Christ has giv'n a knock
Has made it fly and has dissolved the rock.
My heart which was so hard is made to yield,
Christ has o'recome me now and won the field.
The War is ceas'd between the Lord and I,
A Peace is made to all Eternity.
What joy is this! Ah, 'tis beyond all measure.
There's nothing like to inward joy and pleasure.
As was my burden, so I find my rest,
O that was great! and this can't be exprest.
What heart can taste of these transcendent joys,
And not account Earth's pleasures empty toys!
Such is the nature of a second birth.
Makes Heav'n on Earth, turns sorrow into mirth.
Once was I blind, senseless, bewitch'd, nay, mad;
I thought in Christ no comfort could be had,
Religion was, I thought, a foolish thing,
Which could no pleasure nor no profit bring.
I thought Professors greatly were misled,
When I beheld what things they suffered:
But I am now convinc'd of my mistake,
For I my self could, For Christ Jesus sake,
Any derision or Affliction bear,
Such inward peace in him, and joy is there,
What man would not all earthly glory slight,
For one small dram, or taste of such delight?
To have Christ's Love, and in his bosom lie,
Yields true content, and sweet felicitie.
Ah happy I, I live! my Soul's involv'd,
In secret raptures, sighs to be dissolv'd,
And be with Christ my home and resting-place,
For to injoy and see him face to face.
And in the int'rim, Lord, whilst here I stay,
I faithfully will do what thou dost say.
And help me Lord, thy praise for to declare
Unto all precious Children far and near.
O help me to lift up my voice on high!
Let joyfull Hallelujahs pierce the sky.
And eccho back again, resound on Earth,
Since thou hast wrought in me the second birth:
Let me with the Cœlestial Angels sing,
And make thy Praises round the world to ring!
Thou'st brought my Soul out of the lowest Pit,
And in the paths of Sion set my feet!
Thou hast from Darkness brought me into Light,
And to mine eyes thou hast restored sight!
Nay, hast my Soul sav'd from Eternal death,
And shall not I thy praises, Lord, sing forth?
O let my tongue, my heart, and life make known
The favour, Lord, which to me thou hast shown!
Let me aloft, by thy blest Grace, aspire
To sound thy praise with the Cœlestial Quire.
With swift wing'd Cherubims, Lord, let me joyn,
To magnifie that glorious Name of thine
Let not remainders of the flesh disturb
My precious peace that's new: O do thou curb,
Yea, kill and crucifie each evil thought,
With vengeance let those Rebels down be brought,
And let me on the Earth live all my days
Unto thy Glory and transcendent praise.
And then, great God, when these short days are o're
With Seraphims I'le sing for evermore.

Truth.
What Melody and Triumph do I hear?
Whose voice is this that soundeth in mine ear?
What Eagle-ey'd Soul's this that soars on high,
That with swift wings aloft doth mount and fly;
And in Eternal Love seems to lie down,
Adorn'd with Grace, and ravish'd with the Crown
of inward Peace? that taketh up its rest
At Jesus Christ's sweet satisfying breast,
And breaking forth in raptures, can't express,
As he would do, his humble thankfulness?

Youth.
'Tis I, blest Truth, the Conquest now is won,
Grace has prevail'd, I am the conquer'd one:
My grief is turn'd to joy, yea and my night
Is also chang'd into Eternal Light.
Thy power's great, when Grace doth work with thee,
Yea soon do then obtain the victory.
Blest be the day that ever thou wast sent,
To change my heart, and move me to repent!
Dear love to thee, O Truth, I shall retain
So long as I upon the Earth remain.
I'le keep thee close, and hide thee in my heart,
For thou more precious than rich jewels art.
I'le lose my All before I'le part with thee,
So much I love and prize thy company.
Though Satan stir up foes never so cruel,
Devils nor Men shall rob me of this Jewel.
I am resolv'd a thousand deaths to dy,
Before I will God's blessed Truth deny.
Though of Deceivers there's a multitude,
Yet none of them shall my poor Soul delude.
Though they do thee reproach, slight and contemn
I by Exper'ence can refute all them,
Who say thy words nought but dead letters are,
Which men may burn, or into pieces tare:
The out-side of the Book they only see,
Who thus do speak reproachfully of thee:
For did they but thy inward power know,
They'd never speak, as oftentimes they do:
But soon they would God's written Word extol,
Above that Light which they cry up in all.
The Light which Conscience unto me doth give,
I'le alwayes own as long as I do live,
But from God's Word doth its chief light descend;
Therefore the Holy Scriptures I'le commend:
For had we not God's Word to light our hearts,
The Heathens which do live in Forreign parts,
Who never heard of Christ, might understand
As much as any do in this our Land:
Alas! we should have been unto this day,
In all respects as Ignorant as they.
But I'le forbear, because I must with speed
Attend upon God's Truth with care and heed,
To hear what he will say; O Truth wilt thou
Concerning me shew forth thy Judgment now
I do intreat thee prove me thoroughly,
For still I do retain a jealousie
Over my heart, because that I have seen
How I deceived oftentimes have been.

Truth.
Conscience, to thee I must once more descend,
The Controversie thou alone must end:
How is it with him now? what dost thou say?
Hast any thing unto his Charge to lay?
Remember what I formerly have shown,
And let thy present thoughts with speed be known.

Conscience.
I always ready am Judgment to give,
According to the Light I do receive,
And never was more free than now am I
My thoughts to shew; your suit I can't deny.
O Sir! the case is chang'd; I am his Friend,
His sweet Condition I must needs commend.
Grace has subdu'd corruption in his heart,
That he's made clean, and wash'd in every part,
My testimony you may take for truth,
He's now become a very humble Youth;
He's truly Godly, Faithful, and Sincere,
I do for him, and shall my witness bear:
All kind of Evil doth his Soul defie,
He hates above all things Hypocrisie:
VVill and Affections now are changed quite,
That in the Lord alone is his delight.
There's no Commands of Christ, not any one
That he's convinced of, but he has done:
He faithfully also the Lord obeys,
VVithout excuses, put offs, or delays,
He grieveth most for sins that secret are,
VVhich unto men do not i'th' least appear.
He's more in substance than he is in show,
VVhen high'st in joy, his heart is very low.
All his own Righteousness he doth disown,
And does rely on Jesus Christ alone.
Christ is become so precious in his sight,
He's first with him i'th' morn, and last at night.
He willingly has taken up the Cross,
And doth account what e're is his but dross;
And parts with it most freely, Christ to gain,
Since he hath found Earth's best injoyments vain.
Christ he exalts as King i'th' high'st degree,
And gives each Office its full dignitie.
He uses me also most tenderly,
Because he knows that my Authority
Is from above, it is for Jesus sake
He sides with me, and doth resolve to take
My part always, what e're he doth sustain,
He'l rather suffer than wound me again.
Christ has in me set up his blessed Throne,
And over me no other King he'l own:
Christ must alone in me the Scepter sway,
And he will die before he'l give away
Christ's Right and Soveraignty in his dear Soul.
He is resolv'd to suffer no controul,
In things alone which to me appertain,
Fear lest thereby Christ's Glory he should stain.

Truth.
Oh! happy young-man! blessed from above,
Blessed with Grace, and ravisht with the love
Of thy Eternal Lord, in whose sweet breast
Thou now dost lie, and evermore shalt rest.
Thy Honor's lasting, now it can't decay,
Thy treasure's sure, thieves cannot steal't away:
Thy Pleasures are beyond thought or conceit,
And thy rare Beauty is without deceit.
Thy Strength, thy Wisdom, nor thy Youth shall fade,
Nor canst thou die, thou art immortal made.
Eternal Life is given unto thee,
And thou shalt reign to all Eternitie.

Vicinus.
There's none on Earth is able to express,
The inward peace this Young-man doth possess;
Whilst to his joy, he clearly doth espy
This blessed Concord, and rare Harmony:
Conscience and Truth most sweetly do agree,
He's free'd from Bondage and Captivitie.
Christ's Spirit doth with Conscience witness bear,
He's born of God, and is become an Heir
(With his dear Saviour) of Eternal bliss:
What Consolation can there be like this?
But whilst thus fill'd with joy and true delight,
The Devil falls on him with all his might;
With strong assaults, his Faith for to destroy,
Which much abates, and mitigates his joy:
But Satan failing in his Enterprize
In one respect, another way he tries;
And with malicious threats he breaketh forth,
Spitting his venome and his hellish wrath:
Which in some measure may to you appear,
By what immediately doth follow here.

Devil.
Heark, heark, thou cursed wretch, vengeance is mine,
And I'le repay't upon that Soul of thine;
In dreadful wrath I will contend with thee,
If thou wilt not again submit to me.
Will not my shining Glory thee invite,
Nor all my Agents fell thy Soul affright,
To leave those cursed ways in which you go?
Then I'le some way contrive your overthrow.
Though out of your Dominions I am beat,
And forced am at present to Retreat;
Yet I'le return like to a Lion strong,
And break thy bones in pieces ere't be long.

Youth.
Father of Lyes, do'st think I dread thy frown,
'Tis past thy skill to throw my Glory down;
Thy head is broke, thou art a beaten Foe,
And chained up; alas! thou canst not do
According to thy wrath and cursed spight,
Christ's Pow'r is mine, who stronger is in Might;
Me he'l not leave, though tempted am by thee,
Yet he knows how to help and succour me.
What matter is't although thou art inraged,
When the great Pow'r of Heaven is ingaged
To side with me always, and take my part:
Though thou a Lion and a Serpent art,
Yet may'st as soon the Lord of Life o'recome,
As to produce or work my final Doom,
So long as I do for his Glory stand,
And am obedient to his blest Command.

Devil.
But I have so much craft and subtilty,
That I can make the Lord thine Enemy;
Though thou do'st think he is become thy Friend,
I'le by temptation move thee to offend
Him ere't be long; and soon you will espy
In's anger you he'l cast off utterly:
And then I'le tear and rend you as I list,
And you shall have no power to resist.

Youth.
God has bestow'd on me his precious Grace,
That I abhor the thoughts of giving place
To thee, O Satan, though thou dost entice;
God will preserve my Soul from deadly vice:
But if through weakness him I should offend,
In bowels he'l to me his Pardon send.
Christ is my Advocate; God will pass by
All sins of VVeakness and Infirmity.
Although he use the Rod, his precious Love
I'm sure from me he never will remove.

Devil.
Your hopes will fail, alas! black clouds will hide
Your glorious Sun, your steps will quickly slide:
Your morning's bright, but soon 'twill over-cast,
And all your joy will scarce a moment last.
Though Truth doth now thy present state commend,
Yet you will find the Proverb true i'th' end,
That the young Saint will an old Devil be:
You'l die and perish in Apostasie.

Youth.
'Cause thou hast lost thy former happy state,
With malice thou stir'st up thy bitter hate
Against my Soul, thou shew'st thy wicked spight,
But thy vile teeth are broke, thou canst not bite.
Thou dost on me cast forth an envious frown,
Because thou hast for ever lost thy Crown.
Because thy morning's turned into night,
Dost think thou shalt my Soul amaze and fright
With such insnaring thoughts? I thee defie;
Nothing can break that blessed Band and Tie,
Or Covenant which Christ with me has made,
My standing's firm, my Crown can never fade.
He that has in my Soul this work begun,
Will finish it I'me sure e're he has done.
There's ne're a Lamb or Sheep of his dear fold,
But he will keep, he has of them such hold,
That in the midst of danger they shall stand,
And none shall pluck them out of his strong hand:
They by his Pow'r are kept in ev'ry Nation,
'Till they are safely brought unto Salvation.
Upon the Rock of Ages I am placed,
And my foundation never can be razed;
Though Mountains should depart, & Hills remove,
Yet Christ will never change in his dear Love.
Nor cause his Covenant of lasting peace
To be remov'd, nor his sweet Mercy cease.
The Truth and Conscience both joyntly agree,
That the new-birth is truly wrought in me.
Th'Immortal Seed I'me sure must needs bring forth
A Babe Immortal; and my Heav'nly birth
Doth shew to all, and clearly signifie,
I cannot perish in Apostasie.
The Head and Members of one Nature are,
Or else Christ's Body a strange Monster were.
As sure as he's in Heaven, so shall I,
And reign with him to all Eternity.

Devil.
My words I see no place at all can find
Within the Center of thy evil mind:
I'le leave thee therefore with my dreadful Curse,
Which is as bad as Hell, nay, it is worse
Than all the Plagues of the infernal Lake;
And let all those who love me, vengeance take
Upon so vile a Wretch: and though I do
Forsake thee now, within a day or two
I'le come again, and will thy Soul torment,
Till thou of thy Repentance shalt Repent

Youth.
O Lord, I praise thee for that glorious Pow'r,
Which helpt my Soul in such a needful hour
Of strong assaults from the vile wicked one;
Thou help'st me to resist him, and he's gone.
Therefore, dear God, be pleased to inflame
My heart with Grace to magnifie thy Name:
And when he comes again, O then be near,
And let thy Truth also for me appear:
Though I am young and weak, I shall thereby
Not fear th'assaults of any Enemy.
Come, speak, O Truth, wilt still be on my side?
'Tis in thy strength I very much confide.
Though I am feeble, thou art mighty strong;
And whilst for me, there's none can do me wrong.

Truth.
I will, dear Soul, support thee whilst on Earth,
And save thee from the rage of Hell and Death:
I will assist thee by a mighty Arm,
And keep thee day and night from hurt and harm;
And with my glitt'ring Sword cut down and slay
All cursed Enemies who thee gain-say.

Grace.
If Truth should fail, I will thy wants supply,
Thou need'st not doubt of my sufficiency.
Light I will be in Darkness, Joy in Grief,
And when in Trouble great, I'le bring Relief.
If always thou dost on my Arm rely,
The Devil will be forc'd with speed to fly.
Never on me did any Soul depend,
But they obtain'd Deliv'rance in the end.
I'l help thy Soul through all its Christian strife,
And bring thee safe to Everlasting Life.

Conscience.
I'le be the third that will lend thee an hand,
Wee'l all combine to make a triple band.
A threefold Cord can't eas'ly broken be,
I'le be a Friend in thine Adversitie.
There's not a Foe on Earth thou needst to fear,
So long as I for thee my witness bear,
That thou in Truth dost walk before the Lord,
And that thy ways do with his Word accord;
The evil Foe will be ashamed quite,
VVhilst faithfully thou walk'st up to thy Light;
And Satan never can get any ground,
VVhilst I declare thy heart is truly sound,
Clear up, poor Soul, I'le feast thee constantly,
And plead for thee before the Enemy.
My sweetest wine also I'le keep to th'end,
At death I will thy Soul with that befriend.
God's VVord that is thy ground in every thing,
His Glory is thy aim, from thence doth spring
All service thou dost do towards the Lord,
His Spirit therefore to thee he'l afford;
That doth bear witness for thee, so do I,
And will also when thou do'st come to dy.

The Young man Experiencing Conversion truly wrought in his Soul, and that he's delivered from the Power of the Tempter, breaks forth into these following Hymns of Prayer and Praises to God.