Is rottenness, And dust so pleasant to thee, That happiness, And heaven, cannot woo thee, To shake thy shackles off, and leave behind thee Those fetters, which to death and hell do bind thee? In vain thou say'st, Thou art buried with thy Saviour, If thou delay'st, To show, by thy behaviour, That thou art risen with him; Till thou shine Early he rose, And with him brought the day, Which all thy foes Frighted out of the way: And wilt thou sluggard-like turn in thy bed, Open thine eyes, Sin-seized soul, and see What cobweb-ties They are, that trammel thee; Not profits, pleasures, honours, as thou thinkest; But loss, pain, shame, at which thou vainly winkest. All that is good Thy Saviour dearly bought With his heart's blood; And it must there be sought, Where he keeps residence, who rose this day: Linger no longer then; up, and away. J THE ASCENSION, OR HOLY THURSDAY. MOUNT, mount, my soul, and climb, or rather fly Thy Saviour rose not only, but ascended; Both in his conquest and his triumph too. His graces to them, and will not appear Where he now sits, not for himself alone, All his redeemed may attendants be, Kings without Courtiers are lone men, they say ; Behind on earth, whilst thy King reigns in heaven, Yet not be of thy happiness bereaven? Nothing that thou canst think worth having's here. That thou canst wish, to make thee truly blest. Higher than what is high'st. O grovel then no longer here on earth, But tower, my soul, and soar above the skies, Though with corruption and mortality Thou clogg'd and pinion'd be ; Yet thy fleet thoughts, and sprightly wishes, may To what thou canst not reach, at least aspire WHIT-SUNDAY. NAY, startle not to hear that rushing wind, Attend a while, and thou shalt quickly find, If thou think here Seest thou not how on those twelve rev'rend heads To see it and Yet more amazed stand To hear at once so great variety Of language from them come, Of whom they dare be bold to say they be Bred no where but at home, And never were In place such words to hear. Mock not, profane despisers of the Spirit, This earnest he hath sent, who must inherit All nations as his own: That they may know How much to him they owe Now that he is ascended up on high And hath led captive all captivity, He'll not receive alone, But likewise give Gifts unto all that live; To all that live by him, that they may be, In his due time, each one, Partakers with him in his victory, Nor he triumph alone; But take all his Unto him where he is. To fit them for which blessed state of glory, This is his agent here: To publish to the World that happy story, Always, and every where, This resident Ambassador is sent. Heaven's legier upon earth to counter-work The mines that Satan made, And bring to light those enemies, that lurk Under sin's gloomy shade: That hell may not Still boast what it hath got. Thus Babel's curse, confusion, is retrieved; Diversity of tongues By this division of the Spirit relieved : And to prevent all wrongs, People of different rites. O let his entertainment then be such Whatever he requireth think not much For who doth this Reaps the first-fruits of bliss. TRINITY SUNDAY. GRACE, Wit, and Art, assist me; for I see That sooner may I drain the sea, Or drive the day With light away, Than fully set it forth, Except you join all three to take my part, Stay, busy soul, presume not to enquire In Unity, And Unity In Trinity, All reason doth transcend. God Father, Son God, and God Holy Ghost, Who most admireth, magnifieth most. |