We cannot of the Crown partake, Unless we kifs the Crafs with pleasure, And thus with open arms receive All Smart, distress and Tribulation, =So that the Saviour hath free leave To his Death's Likeness us to fashion. If Satan with vile art Cannot perfuade the heart To bargain for fome Mitigation; Then widens he the path, That, in falfe Flight of Faith, Souls venture too far from their Station.

14. Right inward must the foul remain,

And fuck Love's breafts for her nu-
trition,

Retiring fo from Luft as Pain,
To foft Compofure's sweet fruition.
If now the En'my finds that those
Ignoble Objects will not fuit us,
Which to our Bridegroom he'd op.
pofe,

Who is fo exquifitely beauteous:
Then does he try his might,
To caufe a gloomy night
If poffible, our eyes to cover,
That we, in Shadows dull,
Can't fee the beautiful,

And gracious Face of our foul's Lover.

15. But when by all his ways at length

He can't from Grace decoy or fright

Warm'd by the Bridegroom's fires, The bridal-Heart retires To calm Repofe, all thought exceeding.

I.

153.

WHad not Redemption mild

Eas'd my poor breaft, and all my Thoughts

Renew'd just like a Child.

2. Lord, fince I've known thy Peace,
In all this world one thing
My eyes purfue; and 'tis, that Grace
Its Work to vict'ry bring.

3. O how my heart's reviv'd,

When I can fleal a Look At Things or Persons, which I think Are written in thy Book! 4. I can't distinguish oft

The great Things from the fmall, Where'er but Grace appears in Truth, 'Tis venerable all.

Any that's better to his Mind,

Nor can indeed engage himself, nor will,

But only with the fav'rite Object ftill. 5. He alfo may, 'tis clearly prov'd, Be by a mortal Creature lov'd: Lazarus, and th' Apostle John, Martha and Mary, ev'ry one,

Spouse,

While in that heart I forfeit not my

place,

There's nothing else can my concern much raife.

11. O Saviour, my poor finful Heart

choose :

fmart!

And

Tis you that will most certainly
Engage my Soul with rapture
To all Eternity.

2. Thy Pain and doleful fighing,
Thy Side pierc'd by the Lance,
Thy Heart faint, cold and dying,
Thy Warrior's garment's glance,
Remains our only Object here,

Before all other matters
Our occupation dear.
3. All elfe we'll be difmiffing,
Save the Lamb on the tree;
His Feet we will be kifling

For his Death's agony;
For his amazing toil and pain,
Which he did freely fuffer,
Our poor fouls to regain.
4. Lamb, Lamb, O Lamb, my lover!
What sweetness I poffefs,
When I by faith muse over

Thy brotherly Faithfulness, That thou dy'dft truly on the Wood, Reftoring and redeeming From wrath thy Flesh and Blood. 5. Grace in the Blood of Jefus,

Good for a Sinner's heart! What elfe, I pray, could eafe us, Should the Crofs-form depart? And could we not read very plain

Our Grace-election written In th' wounds of the Lamb flain? 6. Therefore belongs for ever Body and foul to Thee, And nothing fhall them fever From thee eternally : The Soul's the Wages of thy death, Thou Champion justly crowned With many a glorious Wreath. 7. We truft, no fubtile power

Shall pluck us from thy Hand: Since we're known by our Lover, The Foe has no demand:

8. His Scheme is now exploded,

His claim is without force, And his whole fyftem loathed;

The Lamb's blood does of courfe Preserve our fouls in perfect Rest; 'Tis Blood that marks our Doorpofts,

And keeps us always bleft.
9. A Heart with grace surrounded,
Enjoys a perfect peace,
Remains quite unconfounded,
A Sinner poor and base:
It thinks, No man is truly good
But Jefus Chrift our Saviour,
Who fhed for us his blood.

10. Be in our hearts impressed
With all thy Agony,
Thou Man of fmarts carefied!
How can one happier be,
Than when thy Staff rules in the
heart,

And Blood draws there thy Picture Expiring in keen smart?

11. Ye open Wounds fo bleeding,

Ye prints in Hands and Feet! What from you is proceeding

I feel, with kiffes fweet:
You are my Theme whilft here below,
And when I leave the Body,
Το you I then will go.

12. Amen! thou highly bleffed
And holy Trinity!
Ever be this confeffed,

Our Lover kind was he
And I will fing inceffantly,
Ye open'd Wounds of Jefus,
How fweet are ye to me!

.159.

Ey! bittet Gott den Heiligen Geil.

This ftuns the evil Spirit,

So that he yields and flies.

pray,

Who points us out the Gospel-way,

That

That he thofe precious Gifts beftow Which now each thirtyheart o'erflow. 2. All glory, pow'r and praise is thine,

Sweet Comforter, who didâ incline 1 Our hearts, when by the Father drawn,

To hear glad tidings of the Son! =3. A ftranger thou to ev'ry one,

Before that Sin to us was fhewn, Which more than any crime confounds,

Believing not on Jefu's Wounds,

4. Which full forgivenefs did procure,
Salvation stedfast and secure;
Since Chrift the eternal Ransom paid,
When all our fins on him were laid.
5. As foon as this diftrefs we felt,
That Unbelief within us dwelt,
And (owning our loft wretched cafe)
With tears from thee begg'd Faith

and Grace:

6. Moft kindly thou didft us receive,

And our diftreffed Hearts relieve.
For what we of Immanuel know,
To thy Inftructions all we owe.

7.

Now let us in thy School remain, Till we the Father's throne attain; Be to our fouls a faithful Guide, In Trials fierce with us abide; 8. The heav'nly Father's fweeteft