CERTAIN MEDITATIONS UPON JUSTIFICATION By Christ alone.  

THe News is good, Christ shed his Blood,  
Our Peace is made in Heaven;  
And now He's gone, up to His Throne,  
All Power to him is given.   

Shall Sin or Hell, God's People quell,  
Or ever keep them under?  
Lo, Christ hath died, Sin Crucifi'd,  
And Hell-Bars rend asunder.   

Our glory's great, we are complete,  
In God's Free-Love we stand;  
We are on high, Exalted by  
Christ's own Victorious Hand.   

We once were Lost, to Hell did Post,  
But God in Mercy found us;  
And now he hath taught us Life's Path,  
And with his Glory Crowned us.   

The Blood of Christ, our Great Highpriest,  
Which once for us was Shed,  
Hath Purged the Blot, and Cleansed the Spot,  
Wherewith we were bespread.   

A Glorious Change, a Wonder Strange,  
That sin should not defile;  
And those appear, as Christ, most Dear,  
Who once did seem so Vile.   

All things Behind, are out of Mind,  
The Saints are made Divine;  
Fixed in the Love, of God above,  
In Glory they do shine.   

None are so Dear, nor yet so Near,  
With God they are made One;  
Who now doth see them such to be,  
As is his only Son.   

Christ is our Guide, we cannot Slide,  
Or ever Fall away;  
Our State is sure, and must endure,  
Though all things else decay.   

Then let's be Bold, our Heads uphold,  
The Time is drawing nigh,   

When we shall Reign, and eke Remain  
With Christ Eternally.   

Let all Base Fears, and Needless Cares,  
Out of our Mind remove;   

With speed let's fly, to God on High,  
And dwell with him above.   

Where we shall be from all Fears Free,  
Which here do us Annoy;   

And then possessed of Perfect Rest,  
In our Dear Saviour's Joy.   

Which to Obtain, let us Remain,  
Doing our Father's Will;   

Waiting the day, when he shall say,  
Come, Children, Take your Fill.   

All is your own, to Feast upon,  
Your Father hath to give;   

Your Glass is Run, your Work is Done,  
In Pleasure you shall Live.   

No more Dejected, Faith's 
* That is in Heaven.  Neglected,  
To which now bid Farewell;   

And Welcome Love, that Grace above,  
Which only doth Excel.   

Now Faith doth cease, Love shall increase,  
In Fullness of Degree;   

By which we shall, appear to all,  
Perfect like Christ to be.    

LONDON, Printed by J. Astwood, and entered according to Order, 1684.