His lips are blue,
(Where roses grew,)
He's frozen everywhere:
All the heat He has,
Joseph, alas!
Gives in a groan, or Mary in a tear.
Look! how He glows for heat!
What flames come from his eyes!
'Tis blood that He doth sweat,
Blood his bright forehead dyes.
See, see! it trickles down;
Look, how it showers amain!
Through every pore
His blood runs o'er,
And empty leaves each vein.
His very heart
Burns in each part,
A fire his breast doth sear:
For all this flame
To cool the same,
He only breathes a sigh, and weeps a tear.
What bruises do I see!
What hideous stripes are those!
Could any cruel be
Enough to give such blows?
Look, how they bind his arms,
And vex his soul with scorns!
Upon his hair
They make Him wear
A crown of piercing thorns.
Through hands and feet,
Sharp nails they beat.
And now the cross they rear:
Mary looks on,
But only John
Stands by to sigh, Mary to shed a tear.
Why did He quake for cold?
Why did He glow for heat?
Dissolve that first He could,
He could call back that sweat.
Those bruises, stripes, bonds, taunts,
Those thorns which thou didst see,
Those nails, that cross,
His own life's loss
Why, oh! why suffered He?
'Twas for thy sake:
Thou, thou didst make
Him all those torments bear:
If then his love
Do thy soul move,
Sigh out a groan, weep down a melting tear.
JOHN QUARLES, the son of Francis Quarles, was born 1624. Though not so well known as a poet as his father, he is little inferior to him in depth of thought, and unquestionably superior in style and taste. His principal works are, A Kingly Bed of Misery; A Fountain of Tears; Divine Meditations; and Joseph's Self-conflict. He died of the plague, in 1665.
GOD'S LOVE TO MAN.
HE that can break a rocky heart in twain,
And reunite it, if He please, again;
He that can part the boiling waves, and stand
Upon the seas as on the driest land;
He whose celestial power can make the graves
To open, and command their slumb'ring slaves
To rise-nay more, to stand-nay more, to walk-
Nay more (if more than this may be,) to talk!
He that can make a whale to entertain
A Jonah, and to cast him forth again;
He whose Almighty power can unlock
The flinty bowels of a cragged rock,
And make her headlong gushing streams abound
To wash the bosom of the thirsty ground;
He that can transmutate, by power divine,
The poorest water into richest wine;
He that can curb rude Boreas, and assuage
The lawless passion of the ocean's rage;
He that can rain down manna to supply
The craving stomachs of mortality;
He that can, like an all-commanding God,
Make almonds flourish from a sapless rod;
He that can make the sun and moon stand still,
Or run according to his sacred will;
He that preserved a Daniel from the paws
Of lions, and can muzzle up their jaws;
He that can make the greedy ravens carry
Bread to his servants-their winged commissary;
He that can, with an unresisted hand,
Dash fire into ice, and countermand
The wanton flames, and charm them, that they dare
But burn his servants' cords, and not their hair;
He that can cause ten thousand to be fed
With two small fishes and five loaves of bread;
He that can clothe Himself with fire, and name
Himself I AM, and make a bush to flame
Without consuming; He that can convert
A rod into a serpent, and not hurt;
He that can make his visage shine so bright
That not a Moses can behold the light;
He that can strike a hand with leprosy,
And cure it in the twinkling of an eye;
He that can in a moment cut and break
Tongue-tying cords, and make the dumb to speak;
He that can out of unregarded stones
Raise unto Abraham many little ones;
He that can heal the cripple with a touch,
And free him from the thraldom of his crutch;
He that can cure the deaf, and can expel
A thousand devils in despite of hell;
He that can perfect what He first begun ;
Expects that man should say, "Thy will be done!"
Consider, man, and thou shall find it true,
Heaven can do all, but what He will not do.
Think not, because thou art of low estate,
That He will scorn to love, or love to hate.
Remember Dives, whose unsummed-up store
Improved so much, until he proved as poor
As ever Job was;-Job! unhappy I
To speak it, he was rich in poverty.
Heaven made poor Job so rich, that Satan's wealth
Could purchase nothing from him but his health,
And that corporeal too: he could not boast
His bargain, for 'twas Job that purchased most.
Even as the sun (which every day surrounds
The sublune globe, and pries into the bounds
Of this dark centre,) lets his beams reflect
Upon a mole-hill, with as much respect
As on a mountain-for his glorious beams
Shine always with equivalent extremes,-
Even so the great and powerful Three in One,
That sits upon his all-enlightening throne,
Does not deny to let his mercies crown
The poorest peasant with as much renown
As the most stateliest emperor: though he
Invests his body with more dignity,
Yet he's but earth, and must at last decay;
For prince and peasant go the self-same way;
There's no distinction-one infused breath
Made them alike, and both must live in death
Or everlasting life; both must commence
Divines in heaven; there's no pre-eminence,
But all equality; all must express
With equal joy their equal happiness.
Rouse up, dull man, and let thy wakened soul Be vigilate! oh, let thy thoughts enrol
The love of God; engrave it in thy breast,
That his resounding tongue may read thee blest!
Oh! let thy sighs like pens, and let thy tears
Like ink, inscribe the love, th' indulgent cares
Of thy Creator; that Himself may find,
Within th' unblotted volume of thy mind,
Himself recorded; so will He embrace
Thy spotless soul, and fill thee with his grace.
Incline thine ears, and let thy heart rejoice
To hear the strains of his harmonious voice.
Hearken, and thou shalt hear his prophets sing
The admired mercies of the glorious King:
Thus saith the great and everlasting One,
That rules the heavens, and governs earth alone;
Thus saith the Lord, that takes delight to dwell
Among his saints, that formed Israel,
Created Jacob, "Let thy sorrows flee
Out of thy breast: I have redeemed thee.
'Twas I that made thy clouded vision shine,
And called thee by my name, for thou wert mine;
I will be with thee; when thy feet shall wade
Thorough the waters, I will be thy aid:
I'll make thee walk through rivers, and the waves
Shall prove ambitious to become thy slaves;
And when thou walkest through the raging fire,
The unruly flames shall not presume t' aspire,
Or kindle on thy garments. I alone,
The Lord thy God, and Israel's Holy One,
And thy dear Saviour, that was always true,
Gave Egypt, Seba, Ethiopia, too,
To ransom thee; for thou wert my delight,
And always precious in my favouring sight.
Honours were heaped upon thee, and thou wert
The tender love of my affecting heart;
Therefore e'en I, well pleased with thee, will give
People for thy dear sake, that thou mayst live.
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