DIVINE POEMS.  
BY Edmund ELIS, Master of Arts, and Fellow of Balliol college in Oxford.  Epist. ad 1 Cor. C. 3. V. 18. {non-Roman} {non-Roman} {non-Roman} {non-Roman} {non-Roman}. 
LONDON, Printed by T. Lock for the use of the Author. MDCLIX.   

TO THE READER.  
READER,  
DO not expect to have an account why I set forth these Poems again: If thou shalt like them, thou wilt not doubt but I had Reason sufficient to make them as public as I could: If thou art one of those Vain fellows that scorn and deride them; to tell thee the reason I had for it, would be no other than to talk of Colours to a blind Man, or of Sounds to one that is Deaf. If any man wonder that l thus incur the Censures of People, let him know, That if my Heart do not starngely deceive me, I would rather expose myself to the continual Aspersions of the Foulest Mouths; or be in danger of Death itself, then neglect any Opportunity of doing God such service, as i doubt not but I shall by my further Publication of these my unworldly, and most retired Imaginations; which, being composed in metre, will (I suppose) suit the better with the Genius of some, and be the apter to insinuate, and work themselves deep into the Memories of all that read them. And now Reader, if thou be'st a CHRISTIAN indeed, I shall entreat thee by all the Love that thou owest to Him that was CRUCIFIED for thy sake, that thou wouldst Oppose with all thy Might, that Vain Spirit of Foolish Talking and Writing, which is gone abroad into the World to the great dishonour of HIS Name; who has told us, that we shall give an account of every idle word. And here I cannot but Exclaim aloud (to Thee and all True CHRISTIANS) against some of Mr. COWLEY's Verses; particularly that Part of his Book, which he entitles THE MISTRESS; in which there are several Expressions so provoking to Speculative Lust and uncleanness, that I can't conceive how a CHRISTIAN, that casts his Eye on them, can think otherwise, then that the Author did either Forget that There is a GOD, or that 'tis Sinful to be Lascivious. What profaneness also is this Author guilty of, who uses these Sacred Words, HEAVEN, DEITY, DIVINE PRESENCE, FAITH, &c. to set forth his Dissolute, Amorous Conceptions: Let any man of Common Reason judge whether the minds of any Readers viciously inclined, (and such surely are all those that delight in those POEMS) be not as apt to be wholly debauched, and Corrupted, by a Work of this Nature, as those men's Bodies are to take Infection, when they are amongst sick folk, who are already disposed to the Disease. Alas! alas! Are not men apt enough of themselves to be Vain in their imaginations! Must the froth and Vanity of wanton minds be wrought up, and increased by the wit and Studies of such Learned Persons; and those owning the Name of CHRISTIANS! O Tempora! O Mores! I know very well what an Heavy burden of Anger and Hatred i am like to undergo for writing thus against a Book so generally Applauded: But, whilst i Depend upon GOD, as i hope i shall ever do, i shall not sink under it. Whenever i am railed on, if i Hear not of it, 'tis Nothing to Me; if i do, 'tis the Object of My Patience, the Exercise whereof is the Delight of My Soul. As for such Censures as These, That I Envy Mr. COWLEY the Great Name he has of a POET, &c. My Answer is, l am so far from endeavouring to Detract from His Personal Reputation, that I shall openly confess, I should be more Impudent indeed, than many Virulent Tongues have Pronounced me, if I should not Acknowledge Him to be one of the most Learned, and Ingenious Persons, that ever i knew to have Written an English Verse. For my part, I confess, I had never the True Art of Poetry; I had once some Inclination towards it; which for want of use, I have now lost. As for those few Verses i have Printed, i have still the same Opinion of most of them, that i had at first: but some EPIGRAMS (i confess) i find upon serious Consideration to be such (as to the Matter, with the Expression) that if any man upbraid me with them, i shall be ready to say,  
— Pudet haec opprobria nobis, &c.  
Reader, Farewell: And look narrowly into what thou readest in these ensuing Leaves; which if thou dost, i doubt not but thou wilt find the Author such a one, as neither Courts thy Applause, nor Fears thy Censures.   

 woodcut of laboring folk Man that is born of a Woman, is of few days, and full of trouble, Job 14. 1.  

1.  
OUR Time's still Flying: and we all make haste  
To Live our last.  
We Come into the World to See't; and than  
Go out again.  
We are born Crying, and we spend our Breath  
In Sighs till Death.  
Our Life is but a toil: ere we can try  
What course of Life is best, 'tis time to Die.   

2.  
The Merchant wastes himself with fretting Cares;  
With Hopes and fears:  
And when his bags are filled, his Last Day comes;  
He leaves his sums.  
When he would joy in what his Pains have got▪  
Straight he is not.  
By all the Care wherein his Life is spent,  
Perhaps he gets a Costly Monument.   

3.  
The Scholar bends his Curious Thoughts to find  
What is the Mind.  
He studies to Know Good, but seldom Does  
The Good he knows.  
Some winding up their wit to an High strain,  
Have cracked their brain.  
He that's most Learned, only comes to this,  
To Know at last how Ignorant he is.   

4.  
The Ranting Gallant wears out Time and clothes,  
To learn New oaths:  
He scorns to take Affron's, but thinks it Brave  
To be Hell's Slave.  
The Coontrey Farmer's thinking night and day  
Of Corn and Hay.  
But hawks and hounds are for the better sort,  
Who lose their Time in Seeking of their Sport.   

5.  
In every Action, whatsoever it is,  
Something's amiss.  
We ne'er observe a Mean: we Run and Sweat,  
Or can't get Heat.  
Some Bitterness still interrupts our joys,  
Or Too much Cloyes.  
Our Choicest Comforts are inlaid with Fears;  
And all our Pleasures Sprinkled o'er with Tears.   

6.  
Amidst this Trouble here's My Hope, that I  
Shall shortly Die.  
Our Time o'ercast with Sorrow soon decays,  
Like Winter-Dayes.  
W'are Pilgrims hear on Earth: This is our way,  
No Place of Stay.  
The way's unpleasant: Come, Death, be My Friend;  
And bring Me quickly to My Journey's-End.    

Preparation to the H. Communion.  

1.  
FArewell Beloved Sins: I must be gone:  
Nay, hold! I must!  
Ah! how I Sigh, and Sob, and moan,  
To leave each Lust!  
I must not Live so Loose, as heretofore:  
My Father says that I shall Play no more.   

2.  
He that made Wint, and corn, would have us Dine  
With Him to day:  
Where we shall See our Soul's SUN shine;  
And hear Him Say,  
Here take my Flesh and Blood; come Drink and eat:  
To get You BREAD what Drops once did I sweat?   

3.  
But, oh Dear JESU, All my Raiment's torn,  
I dare not Come.  
My Feet I have defiled this Morn;  
They'll Foul thy room.  
But Thee, LORD, I'll put on: So Thou shalt be  
The Wedding-Garment, bridegroom, Feast to Me.    

That which I do, I allow not; for what I would, that do I not; but what I hate, that do I, Rom. 7. 15.  

1.  
MY Mind keeps out the Host of SIN,  
Sense lets 'em in:  
I'th' phantasy, as i'th' Trojan Horse,  
They Hide their Force,  
Till Opportunity they find  
To Sally, and Subdue the Mind.   

2.  
My Childish Soul oft Cries for what  
It straight doth Hate.  
My Lusts, which Reason should control,  
War 'gainst my Soul;  
And having got the Victory, 
Rom. 7. 23▪   
Bring me into Captivity.   

3.  
My Love against My Will is hurled  
Upon the World:  
I See not in the Dark. I know  
Not what I Do,  
When Sin besets me; so befooled,  
I hate to do even what I would.   

4.  
O when shall my lost Soul Obtain  
Herself again▪  
To Act Her own Hate, and Desire!  
O Sacred FIRE!  
Refine My Heart, and that it be  
Kept Pure, O LORD, I give it Thee.    

The SOUL's Lethargy, Or, No Sense of SIN.  

1.  
MY Soul Sin-smitten feels no Blow! Struck down  
She's in a swoon!  
Thus wronged, She can't Complain!  
She lies astonished, can't Call on  
The GOD of Her Salvation,  
To help her up again.   

2.  
I'm Sick because I have no Pain: My Sore,  
That's now skinned o'er,  
Will Putrify, I fear:  
My Soul hath lost Her Vital Heat,  
True Zeal: Her Pulse gives o'er to Beat,  
As if her Death were near.   

3.  
Mine Eyes are open to Weep, not See: My Mind  
Untranced I find,  
Pierced with a Fiery Dart!  
Ah! now I am awaked again,  
My Sense serves but to feel my Pain:  
Fresh Sorrow gripes my Heart.   

4.  
Lo! Gracious Jesus! lo! How Sick am I!  
How like to Die!  
Maimed by the Host of Hell!  
Let but the Prince of Darkness fly  
Before the Lustre of Thine Eye;  
I'll View Thee, and be well.    

Her House is the way to Hell, leading down to the Chambers of Death, Prov. 7. 27.  
HER House is the (next) way to Hell,  
Satan's Strong-Hold: the fury's Cell.  
There's Venom in her Sweetest Breath:  
Her Tempting Hair's the Snare of Death.  
The Flaming Beauty of Her Eyes  
Is but the Devil's Sacrifice.  
Her looks are Gaudy, but not Fine:  
Her Clearest Beauties Blaze, not Shine.  
O go not after her! Refrain  
From seeking that whose Loss is Gain.  
Vain joys, like Shades, Fly, when embraced:  
Such Paint, when touched, is straight defaced.  
Such Sweets of Love let me Decline,  
They are but poison Drunk in Wine.  
Lust's sparkling Flame, to wildfire turns;  
Such boisterous Heat warms not, but Burns.  
Beware the Siren when She Sings:  
Bees full of Honey have their Stings.   

CHRIST's Death.  

1.  
THis day pressed with our Sins, the MOST HIGH Fell.  
lest he should Feed on Us, Christ Satiates Death  
With his own blood: Quenching the Flames of Hell,  
Enkindled by the Fire of's Fathers Wrath.  
To make Atonement for our Sins GOD Dies:  
Our Jesus is GOD, Priest, and Sacrifice.   

2.  
Lo, how the hasty Jews cry crucify!  
Lo, how they judge the Holy One to Death!  
Whose Attribute is Immortality!  
Lo, how they murder Him who gave them Breath:  
The King of Glory suffers Shame; and He  
That Made the World is hanged upon a Tree.   

3.  
Lo, how they nail unto the Cross His HANDS.  
Who Spans the Heavens! how his Feet they Pierce,  
Who over Hell and Death Triumphant stands:  
Whose boundless Presence fills the Universe!  
How the ALMIGHTY every Varlet scorns;  
Lo, He by whom King's Reign, is crowned with Thorns.   

4.  
And now the soldier with his Cruel Spear  
Dares Pierce the Side of the blessed Prince of Peace:  
His Torments are so great as Man can bear,  
The Angry godhead will not make them less:  
When he thought that stood off, Grief filled his Heart:  
Cursed Sin! for which GOD and CHRIST seemed to Part!   

5.  
He bowed his head, on which so Heavy lay  
The Sins of Adam, and all Adam's Seed;  
Which by his Death He did Revive this Day;  
To heal our wounded Souls his Limbs did Bleed.  
Lord, I believe, let me partaker be  
Of Thy death's Power, that I may Live to Thee.    

CHRIST'S RESURRECTION.  

1.  
OUR LORD is Risen; and the Powerful Grave  
Holds him no longer; He hath made his way  
Even through the Gates of Death, that He might save  
His heavenly Flesh from turning into Clay.  
The Grave knew not whom he had taken; when  
He saw who 'twas, he let Him out again.   

2.  
Upon this Day the SUN's Creator Rose,  
And the Eternal LIFE came from the Dead:  
He that made Ours, did His blessed Eyes Unclose,  
And saw the Place where his own corpse were laid.  
Death conquered thus, He laid his Grave-Cloaths by,  
As trophies of his Signal Victory.   

3.  
I know not whether may more strange be thought,  
For GOD to Die, or MAN to Rise again:  
Our Holy JESUS made both True: He Fought  
The Lion Death even in the Grave, his Den.  
And thus he entered the Strong Bounds of Fate,  
Not as Led Captive, but to Captivate.   

4.  
The King of Terrors now has lost his Power,  
And is become a Servant unto all,  
Who will but imitate their SAVIOUR,  
Who made a Triumph of his funeral.  
And now he's up, methinks I hear him Say  
To all that Die in Him, Rise, come away.    

Christ's ascension.  

1.  
Who on the Water walked, now Climbs the Air;  
And without Dying, thus He goes to Heaven:  
Although His Habitation now be there,  
Yet we on Earth are not of Him bereaven.  
He's like those Lights which in the Skies appear,  
Though there His Body be, His rays are here.   

2.  
Now He's Ascended up on high, lo, He  
Gives us His Hand that we may get up too:  
By Him our Strength, we walk, our Light, we see:  
He makes us Able, shows us what to Do.  
To Heaven he's gone for us there to Provide.  
Blessed they whose GOD's their Harbinger, and Guide.   

3.  
Look up, My Soul, (and with blessed STEPHEN) See  
Thy JESUS Standing on th'right hand of God.  
And then think Earth too mean a Place for thee,  
Whom He redeemed with his most precious Blood.  
Sweet Jesus, Thou waste pleased to Buy me, Come,  
(I'm not the World's but Thine) and Fetch Me Home.    

The loins of the mind Girded: or An Holy Vow.  
THere is a GOD! My Soul, how durst thou Stray!  
Thou'lt Meet His Vengeance if thou go this way!  
Return! Return! lo, this Path seems too Broad:  
Here Many go: the way to Heaven's no Road.  
My soul, put on thy Garments: Gird them fast:  
'Twill make thee Comely, thus to go straight-laced.  
And now I am resolved: in spite of Hell,  
And my False Heart, I'll still strive to Do well.  
In all my Warfare I'll Hold fast My SHIELD.  
Then Satan Do thy worst, I'll win the Field.   

Sinful Dreams.  

1.  
THE Prince of Darkness loves to Fight  
Our Souls by Night.  
That Black Old Serpent often Creeps  
O'er one that Sleeps:  
As Vipers often crawl upon  
Men Sleeping in the Shade at Noon.   

2.  
SIN (like a thief) comes in by Day  
Some secret way,  
And Lurks (Hid from True Reasons' Eye)  
I'th' fantasy,  
Till Sleep makes Us secure and quiet,  
Then breaks forth, and Commits the Riot.  
Come, My Dear GOD, and Lodge thou in My Breast,  
That when My Body Sleeps, My Soul may Rest.    

The backslider's Recantation; Or, A farewell to the World.  

1:  
FAlse-hearted World farewell! go to▪ I find  
Thee too unkind:  
I took thee for a Friend, did love to Play  
With thee all day:  
But thou didst cog the Dice: I (to my shame)  
Lost every Game:  
Thy Stakes were Pleasures, and deceitful Toys:  
Mine were True-coine, full weight, large, Solid Joys.   

2.  
Now thou hast got all that I had, I see,  
Thou slightest me.  
Thou wast wont to embrace me kindly; and  
Give me thy Hand.  
With many promises of Love, but Lo!  
Thou art my foe!  
Though all my Serious Thoughts (good Company)  
(Fool that I was!) I left to follow Thee.   

3.  
But I'll Return to Them again: I'll room  
No more from Home:  
The Mind that stays within shall ne'er complain  
Of Wind or Rain,  
Of Care or Grief: for Storms shake only Breasts  
That seek their Rests  
Without doors, where is nought but toil; as though  
To be kept warm, they'd lie on Beds of Snow:   

4.  
Great God I leave the World, and come To Thee:  
Open to me.  
I Knock! O let me Find thy Throne of Grace,  
I Seek thy Face!  
I'll die to sin, put off myself, and then  
Be Born again.  
Christ's blood shall be my Life. The WORD (that can  
Call up the Dead) is Breath to the New Man.    

I am a sinful Man!  

1.  
Bade Thoughts, like Swarms of flies infest  
My Corrupt breast!  
Each opening of my heart lets in  
Some treacherous Sin!  
My best Intents are Pale, and wan  
Like the Old Man!  
And thus my wretched Mind is still  
Remiss to Good, or Bent to Ill.   

2.  
These are my Hidden Sins: but oh!  
They quickly grow  
To Outward Acts: Vain Words and Deeds  
Spring from these Seeds.  
With these Materia's Satan tries  
To Build up Vice.  
Which is the Storehouse of all Sin:  
Our adversary's Magazine.   

3.  
Pluck out the Serpent ere it Wind  
Into thy Mind:  
A vicious Temper's Sin, all o'er  
A Putrid Sore;  
From which, Streams of Corruption  
Do daily Run;  
Physician search my Heart, and see  
What Kind of Sore thus troubles me.   

4.  
All my Diseases, LORD, descry:  
Thy Blessed Eye  
Heals all thou Com'st to See; whose Beams  
Will dry the Streams  
Of these Ill Humours, and dispel  
The Mists of Hell:  
The Dark Fumes of all Fond Desires,  
Smoak rising up from lustful Fires.   

5.  
I must confess, I have long been  
The Slave of Sin.  
But Righteous Judge, now set me Free,  
And I'll Serve Thee:  
I have rebelled, I have withstood  
My King my God  
But LORD that Bill, which Justice brings to thee,  
Blot with the Blood which thou didst shed for me.    

A foul Morning; or, The Young Converts Doubts, &c. Help thou mine Unbelief. Mark 9 24.  
HElp Master of my Faith! I'm forced to wink  
At this Bright Truth! in these great Depths I Sink!  
O! 'tis beyond my reach, I cannot Tread:  
Nor can I swim unless thou Hold my Head!  
My Reason's at a stand! Thus are Thy ways  
Past finding out! How dazzling are Thy rays  
(O SUN of RIGHTEOUSNESS) to human Sight?  
Like Thy Great Convert, I can't See for Light!  
Thou Shin'dst about me, and I straight was blind!  
On Thee I thought, and straight I lost my mind!  
stretched out to compass Thy Vast Truths, it broke!  
My Hot Zeal flashed, and so it turned to Smoke!  
My joys are changed to Doubts and Fears, which roll  
Like stormy billows in my wavering Soul!  
Shine forth my SUN▪ amidst these Showers of Tears,  
Let thy Clear Beams pierce through these Clouds of Fears!  
show me Thy Hidden Manna! Angel's Food!  
I long to taste and See that thou art Good?  
I'm Come to See Thee LORD, though Vile, and Poor,  
O let me in! I'll die else at thy Door!   

Nemo repente fuit turpissimus.  
Are Magni Sceleris Gradus requirit:  
Hujus nec citò fit Magister Artis.  
Tardè provehitur Nefas, Malorum  
Quicquid Ponderibus suis gravatur.  
ANGUIST artarei Propage repit,  
N●● vellet rapidos movere gressus.  
Nè Mentem vitio exci●et* Stupentem  
Sic L●ntè Sc●●eris Venena Peraunt  
Humanas Animas: Premuntque laesas  
Crudis Vulneribus, Lev●s dolores.  
GReat Sins don't Leap, but Creep into the Heart:  
No man can straight be Master o'th' Black Art.  
Those evils go on Slowly to their Height,  
Which carry with them a more ponderous weight,  
Th' Old Serpent's offspring never use to Run,  
Temptations come on Softly: Men would shun  
Their Fierce Approach. Thus Vice Soul-poyson's known  
Seldom to have quick Operation.  
Thus as in Body, so in Mind 'tis true;  
The Grief's but little, whilst the wound is New.   

Interioris Hominis Suspiria. Video aliam legem in Membris meis, &c.  
ME Miserum? Variis torquentur Pectora Votis:]  
Distrah●t Affectus Lex ea Dupla meos!  
Sic Divisa capit geminum Mens aegra Dolorem  
Lex poscit poenas utraque laesa suas!  
Servulus infoelix Peccati Vapulo! Flagris  
(Heu miser!) Infestis Oscula saepe dedi.  
Sc 〈…〉 cet ingratum temerè sinus accipit ANGUEM;  
Auro splendenti nigra Venena bibo:  
Deliciis Premo● ipse meis: scelerísque nefandi  
(Blandulus hic Ignis!) Lambit & Urit amor!  
Eheu! Captivum mea me trahit usquevoluptas!  
Excruciant animum Gaudia prava meum!  
Hostas & ipse mihi, Victus, Captusque Triumph●  
Ingemit at spoliis mens mea sana suis!  
Vulnera tot passus mea Vulnera respice JESU?  
Ut mea sanentur, Tu Mihi red Tua!  
Corda Tuo mundes proprio foedata Cruore!  
Tu mihi da Pacem, Ms Deus, ipse tuam!   

I see another Law in my members, warring against the Law of my mind, &c. Rom. 7. 23.  
Wretch that I am! My Wishes are my Pain,  
Two Laws so different rend my Heart in twain!  
My Heart Divided Bleeds in either part!  
Offending either Law I'm sure to Smart!  
Enslaved to sin I'm forced to bear this Yoke,  
I Kiss the Rod even whilst I feel the stroke!  
Th' ungrateful SERPENT in my breast I warm!  
How I quaff poison! and embrace my harm!  
My Pleasure is my Trouble; and the Heat  
Of Fond Desire what is't but a cold Sweat?  
Alas! I'm taken with the baits of SIN!  
Those corrupt joys but feed the Worm within!  
I Triumph when my heart me prisoner takes:  
My mind is grieved thus at the spoil it makes!  
O Jesus! for me wounded, see My Wound!  
Give me thy Bruises that I may be sound!  
With thy Blood wash my Heart in blood imbrued!  
Give me that Peace which may this War conclude!   

Wherewithal shall a young man cleanse his way? By taking heed thereto according to thy Word, Psal. 119. 9  
HArken young men, and here you may  
Find out a clean and safer Way.  
If you go there, Fall sure you will:  
For Filthy ways are slippery still.  
Be but schooled by God's Law, and then  
You'll ne'er Run in the Dirt again:  
You'll Wash your Garments in the blood  
O'th' Prince of Peace, the Lamb of God.  
Out of this Wilderness of Sin  
These Crooked Ways, which now y' are in,  
God's Word, that Fiery Pillar can,  
If followed, lead to Canaan.  
This is the Star, which in the Night  
Of Sin and Death, will give you Light:  
'tis only This, Young men, can tell  
How to avoid the Gates of Hell.  
Eye well this Lamp, this Leading Fire,  
'Twill bring you quite out of the Mire:  
If you go on, and wont beware,  
You'll surely Sink, and Perish there.   

BACKSLIDING. I have sinned!  
THese Offerings of Uncleanness Foul  
That Glorious IMAGE in my soul,  
The Picture of my LORD, which he  
(limed in his Blood) once gave to Me!  
These Works of Darkness do Benight  
My Inward man, that walked in Light.  
But now (alas!) I go astray!  
'Tis Dark: I cannot see the WAY!  
The Comforts once I had, are gone;  
As if the Holy DOVE were Flown.  
She loves white-houses; stays not in  
A House of Clay, defiled with Sin:   

But sure she Hovers o'er my breast;  
Like Birds that find a Snake i'th' Nest.  
The DOVE will come again, no doubt,  
Whene're the SERPENT is thrown out.  
O LORD, Restore to me thy Grace!  
I hope Thou didst but Hide thy Face.  
O Jesus! do but Look on Me,  
Like Peter I'll weep bitterly!  
By thy Bright Face show me my Stain,  
I'll pour forth Tears to wash it clean.  
I hope the DAY will come again anon:  
The SUN of righteousness is Set, not Gone.   

INCONSTANCY.  

1.  
AH me! how soon my Soul takes wing and Flies  
At every thing she spies,  
Some Impress every Object makes upon  
My Soft Affection.  
Sometimes I Relish Heavenly Manna, than  
I lose my taste, and turn to Husks again.   

2.  
The Dainties of this World I'd fain enjoy,  
But Tasted, straight they Cloy.  
Sometimes Good Conscience bids me be a Guest  
At her Continual Feast:  
With her I find Content; but straight I'm gone,  
Called out to Speak with some Temptation.   

3.  
Satan Bewtiches me: I cannot stir,  
Though I'm uneasy here.  
I know 'tis pleasant to do well, but still  
I covet to do ill.  
My Actions are Themselves the Pain they merit;  
My Thoughts are all Vexation of Spirit.  
O my BELOVED, that my soul might be  
More Constant unto Thee▪  
O that my breast had Vestal Flames! that I  
Might love Continually:  
Lord open thou mine Eyes, that I may see  
Thy Glorious Face, I'll look on nought but Thee.    

Peccatum Redivivum: Or, The Rebellion of a conquered Lust.  
THis Sore breaks out again! shall Death and Hell  
Be still in hopes! And shall I ne'er be well?  
Thus some at their Uprising Die; some may  
Like Judas, at Christ's Table Fall away.  
O LORD, put forth thy Hand: O GOD, make haste  
To help me, or I shall Fall back at last.  
Lo, JESU, how I bleed afresh! Lo, ay,  
Unless Thou Close my wounds, shall Faint, and Dyel▪  
My Sense begins to fail: my Heart is grown  
So Cold (O Lord) as Ice, so Hard as Stone:  
Which with a coal from off thine Altar thaw,  
And Unbenumme, that it may Feel thy law;  
That by its strokes I may be waked from Sin,  
That now I may be grieved for what I've been.  
Thus with thy physic, Lord, recover me,  
That I may have an Appetite to thee,  
Who art the Bread of life. O let me cease  
To long for that which feeds but the Disease.  
'tis only Thou, my God, canst make me whole!  
'tis only Thou canst cure my Dying Soul!  
Refresh me (O let me not be denied!)  
Even with that water which came from thy Side.   

A Dialogue between a Carnal Man, and a Penitent Sinner.  

1.  
COme, leave these melancholy Fits:  
They'll put thee quite out of thy Wits.  
When thou art Old, thou mayst have leisure  
To Grieve: now take thy fill of pleasure.  
Let Bacchus, and sweet Venus too  
With their Fresh Garlands Crown thy Brow.  
That it may be kept Smooth and Fair,  
That Sorrow make no Wrinkles there.  
In Mirth pass all this time away:  
Come don't make Winter of thy May.  
Now whilst it is thy age's Spring,  
Thou shouldst learn with the Birds to Sing:  
Reserve thy Tears, and Sighs and Groans,  
For Old dim Eyes, and aching Bones.   

2.  
My Sadness is no melancholy:  
I'm then most Merry, when least Jolly.  
My Pleasure is to Grieve for Sin:  
Hence 'tis that I so soon begin.  
Besides, My friend, we seldom see  
A Crooked Plant, prove a straight Tree.  
I'll not obey that Ranting God,  
Which makes men Stutter, Reel, and Nod.  
Fond Venus Bird (I dread such Love)  
Looks like a Vulture, not a Dove.  
If of Her Fire one Spark appear,  
I'll Quench it with a Pious Tear.  
Now is my age's Spring I know;  
Now is the Time for Grace to Grow.  
When Age with Pain shall fill my Bones,  
And turn my shortened Breath to Groans.  
I'll think it but an aching Head,  
And straight I shall be called to Bed.   

1. Go, zealot: Christian Liberty  
Allows us all to be more Free:  
The way to Heaven is broader, then  
'Tis said to be by Pulpit-men.  
Those Black Coats are mere Rocks, they tell  
Strange Stories of the Devil and Hell,  
They, say so many go astray,  
'Cause they'd be hired to show the way:  
Those Big-words which they throw about,  
Are only fit to Scare the Rout.  
I'll Care not what Precisians say,  
But Swallow all the joys I may.   

2. My Friend, True Christian Liberty  
Won't make us Loose, though't make us Free.  
We are not bound with any Chain:  
weare Girt for Ornament, not Pain.  
We may walk, but we must not Stray:  
weare only Bound to keep our way.  
The Liberty, you boast, is none,  
But to Run to Destruction.  
whilst you abhor to be Precise,  
And Gallop in the Road of Vice,  
You Laugh, like Mad men in your Pains:  
And love the Chinking of your Chains.  
Beware of speaking ill of Those,  
Who Hidden Manna do disclose:  
Who Handle the Two-Edged Sword,  
Even the ALMIGHTY's Powerful Word;  
Which if it Search not, to make Sound,  
Will give you an Eternal Wound.   

1. What country-parson told thee so?  
Why speak'st thou what thou dost not know?  
Who knows but when our Bodies Die,  
Our Souls Die too? therefore will I  
The Pleasures of this world to win,  
Ne'er stick at that, which Fools call Sin.   

2. That is, Thou art resolved to be  
Thine own Soul's mortal enemy.  
What thou callst Pleasure, is but bait:  
Thus thou lov'st Death, and hug'st thy Fate.  
Those Comforts, which in Sin we find,  
At first Embrace, then Stab the Mind.  
When swarms of Thoughts buzz in thy Brain,  
When thy Head's full of Cares and Pain;  
When thou liest Tossing on thy Bed,  
Then think of Me, and what I've said.    

To All those that Name the Name of CHRIST.  

Ah! Love that JESUS, who once dieed for You:  
And, if you Love Him, what He Bids You, Do.   

Qui Vitam posuit pro Te, Tu Dilige CHRISTUM:  
DILECTI semper factor quoque Jussa Tui.   

{non-Roman} {non-Roman} {non-Roman} {non-Roman} {non-Roman},  
{non-Roman} {non-Roman} {non-Roman} {non-Roman} {non-Roman}.    

O that my ways were directed to keep thy statutes, Ps. 119. 5.  

1.  
O That I could stand firm at last;  
And not be reeling to, and fro!  
O that i could My GOD Hold Fast,  
And never, never let Him go!   

2.  
How often do i go astray,  
And leave my Rest, my wonted Bliss!  
Like a Lost Sheep in the High way,  
Which Dangerous and Barren is.   

3.  
I have no Pleasure in my Sin,  
And yet i Act it o'er and o'er!  
I'm still the same that i have been,  
Though fain I would be so no more!   

4.  
I long to Keep the Law of GOD,  
But still i Break it to my Pain!  
My stomach serves to take that Food,  
But straight i cast it up again.   

5.  
My GOD! O take me unto Thee,  
With Fire-Hot Zeal Melt Thou my Heart;  
That now I may New-Moulded be,  
And made sound in my Better Part.   

6.  
LORD, Lead me by thy Grace, that I  
May never Wander from Thee more:  
Thou art My LIFE, I cannot Die:  
Thou art My All; I can't be Poor.   
FINIS.