Then came quick Wit and Conversation,
And he would needs a comfort be,
And, to be short, make an oration.
But thou shalt answer, Lord, for me.

Yet when the hour of thy design
To answer these fine things shall come ;
Speak not at large, say, I am thine,
And then they have their answer home.


Poor silly soul, whose hope and head lies low;
Whose flat delights on earth do creep


grow : To whom the stars shine not so fair, as eyes ; Nor solid work, as false embroideries ; Hark and beware, lest what you now do measure, And write for sweet, prove a most sour displeasure.

O hear betimes, lest thy relenting

May come too late !
To purchase heaven for repenting

Is no hard rate.
If souls be made of earthly mould,

Let them love gold;

If born on high,
Let them unto their kindred fly :
For they can never be at rest,

Till they regain their ancient nest.
Then silly soul, take heed; for earthly joy
Is but a bubble, and makes thee a boy.


AWAKE sad heart, whom sorrow ever drowns :


which feed on earth, Unfold thy forehead gather'd into frowns : Thy Saviour comes, and with him mirth :

Awake, awake;
And with a thankful heart his comforts take.

But thou dost still lament, and pine, and cry;
And feel his death, but not his victory.

Arise sad heart; if thou dost not withstand,

Christ's resurrection thine may be :
Do not by hanging down break from the hand,
Which, as it riseth, raiseth thee :

Arise, arise ;
And with his burial linen dry thine eyes.
Christ left his grave-clothes, that we might, when

grief Draws tears, or blood, not want a handkerchief.


Jesu is in my heart, his sacred name
Is deeply carved there : but the other week
A great affliction broke the little frame,
E'en all to pieces; which I went to seek ;
And first I found the corner where was J,
After, where ES, and next where U was graved.

When I had got these parcels, instantly
I sat me down to spell them, and perceived
That to my broken heart he was I EASE YOU,

And to my whole is JESU.


Canst be idle ? canst thou play,
Foolish soul who sinn'd to-day?

Rivers run, and springs each one
Know their home, and get them

gone : Hast thou tears, or hast thou none?

If, poor soul, thou hast no tears,
Would thou hadst no faults or fears !
Who hath these, those ills forbears.

Winds still work : it is their plot,
Be the season cold, or hot :
Hast thou sighs, or hast thou not?

If thou hast no sighs or groans,
Would thou hadst no flesh and bones!
Lesser pains scape greater ones.

But if yet thou idle be,
Foolish soul, Who died for thee?

Who did leave his Father's throne,
To assume thy flesh and bone ?
Had he life, or had he none ?


If he had not lived for thee,
Thou hadst died most wretchedly;
And two deaths had been thy fee.

He so far thy good did plot,
That his own self he forgot.
Did he die, or did he not?

If he had not died for thee,
Thou hadst lived in misery.
Two lives worse than ten deaths be.

And hath any space of breath
'Twixt his sins and Saviour's death?

He that loseth gold, though dross,
Tells to all he meets, his cross :
He that sins, hath he no loss?

He that finds a silver vein,
Thinks on it, and thinks again :
Brings thy Saviour's death no gain?

Who in heart not ever kneels,
Neither sin nor Saviour feels.


SWEETEST Saviour, if


soul Were but worth the having, Quickly should I then control

Any thought of waving.

But when all my care and pains
Cannot give the name of gains
To thy wretch so full of stains ;
What delight or hope remains ?

What (child), is the balance thine ?

Thine the poize and measure ? If I say thou shalt be mine,

Finger not my treasure. What the gains in having thee Do amount to, only he, Who for man was sold, can see, That transferr'd the accounts to me.

But as I can see no merit,

Leading to this favour : So the way to fit me for it,

Is beyond my savour. As the reason then is thine ; So the


is none of mine : I disclaim the whole design: Sin disclaims and I resign.

That is all, if that I could

Get without repining ;
And my clay my creature would

Follow my resigning :
That as I did freely part
With my glory and desert,
Left all joys to feel all smart-
Ah! no more: thou break'st



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