She reigns thro' Jesus' Righteousness,
Which giving Juttice full Redress;
On Grace's Door this Motto grav'd,
Let Sin be damn'd, and Sinners fav'd.
O Wisdom's deep myfterious Way!!
Lo, at this Door I'll waiting stay,
'Till Sin and Hell both pafs away.
But in this Blifs to fhew my Part,
Grant, through thy Law grav'd in my Heart,
My Life may fhew thy graving Art.
Which may be conceived in the following Words of a certain Author..
SUM tuus in Vita, tua funt mea funera, Christe;
Da precor Imperii Sceptra tenere tui.
Car etenim, moriens, tot Vulnera fæva tulisti,
Si non fum Regni Portio parva. tui ?
Cur rigido latuit tua Vita inclufa fepulchro,
Si non eft mea Mors Morte fugata tua ?
Ergo mihi certam præftes, O Chrifte, Salutem,
Meque tuo lotum Sanguine Chrifte juva.
Which may be thus Englished
Jefus, I'm thine in Life and Death,
O let me conqu'ring hold thy Throne.
Why fhar'd the Crofs thy vital Breath,
If not to make me hare thy Crown?
Why laid in Jail of cruel Grave,
If not thy Death from Death me free?
Then, Lord, infure the Blifs I crave,
Seal'd with thy Blood, and fuccour me..
The BELIEVER'S SOLILOQUY; efpecially in Times of Defertion, Temptation, Afliction, &c.
The deferted BELIEVER longing for perfect Freedom
H mournful Cafe! what can afford
Contentment, when an abfent Lord
Will now his Kindness neither
prove,
By Smiles of Grace, nor Lines of Love?
What Heart can joy, what Soul can fing,
While Winter over-runs the Spring?
I die, yet can't my Death condole :
Lord, fave a dying, drooping Soul,
In Pain, yet unconcern'd, I live,
And languish when I fhould believe.
Lord, if thou ceale to come and stay,
My Soul in Sin will pine away.
In Sin, whofe Ill no Tongue can tell,
To live is Death, to die is Hell:
O fave, if not from Thrall's Arreft,
Yet fave me, Lord, from Sin at least.
This for his Merit's Sake I feek,
Whofe Blood and Wounds do Mercy speak;
Who left the Rank of glorious Choirs,
And heav'nly Flowers for earthly Briars.
6.
Our Sampson took an holy Nap
Upon our feeble Nature's Lap:
He wand'ring in a Pilgrim's Weed,
Did tafte our Griefs, to help our Need.
Earth's Fury did upon him light,
How black was Herod's cruel Spite!
Who to be fure of murd'ring one,
Left he be fpar'd did pity none !
Hell hunts the Babe a few Days old,
That came to rifle Satan's Fold:
All Hands purfu'd him e'en to Death,
That came to fave from Sin and Wrath.
O Mercy! Ignorant of Bounds!
Which all created Thought confounds;
He ran outright a faving Race,
For them that unto Death him chafe.
O Sin! how heavy is thy Weight,
That prefs'd the glorious God of Might!
'Till proftrate on the freezing Ground,
He fweat his clotted Blood around.
His Hand the pond'rous Globe does prop,
This Weight ne'er made him fweat a Drop:
But when Sin's Load upon him lies,
He falls and fweats, and groans and dies.
Alas! if God fink under Sin,
How fhall the Man that dies therein ?
How deeply down, when to the Load,
He adds the flighted Blood of God?
13.
Lord, let thy Fall my Rife obtain,
Thy grievous Shame my Glory gain;
Thy Crofs my lafting Crown procure,
Thy Death my endless Life infure.
Ofend me down a Draught of Love.
Or take me hence to drink above:
Here Mara's Water fills my Cup,
But there all Griefs are fwallow'd up.
Love here is fcarce a faint Defire,
But there the Spark's a flaming Fire..
Joys here are Drops that paffing fee,.
But there an ever flowing Sea.
16..
My Faith that fees fo darkly here,
Will there refign to Vifion clear:
My Hope that's here a weary Groan,
Will to Fruition yield the Throne.
Here Fetters hamper Freedom's Wing,
But there the Captive is a King:
And Grace is like a bury'd Seed,
But Sinners there are Saints indeed.
18.
My Portion's here a Crumb at beft,
But there the Lamb's eternal Feaft:
My Praife is now a fmother'd Fire,
But then I'll fing and never tire.
Now dufky Shadows cloud my Day,
But then the Shades will flee away:
My Lord will break the dimming Glafs,
And fhew his Glory Face to Face.
My num'rous Foes now beat me down,
But then I'll wear the Victor's Crown;
Yet all the Revenues I'll bring,
To Zion's everlasting King.
The deferted Believer's Prayer under Complaints of Unbelief, Darkness, Deadness, and Hardness.
HAT means this wicked wand'ring Heart?
This trembling Age of my Soul?
Would Jefus but a Look impart,
One Look from him would make me whole.
But will he turn to me his Face,
From whom he joftly did withdraw?
To me who flighted all that Grace,
I in my paft Experience faw.
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