The worldly preacher talks sacrifice,
Of sacraments, and holy mysteries:
Meanwhile he longs but for the benefice,
That should preserve his purse from beggaries,
Because he loves no worldly miseries:
For many a preacher that God's word hath taught,
Shows by his life, God lives not in his thought.
The worldly physician, that in sickness tries
The nature of the herbs and minerals,
And in his simples and his compounds spies,
Which way to make the patients' funerals,
Or profit by his cures in generals;
Longs but to see how long they may endure;
But scarcely thinks on God in all the cure.
The worldly musician, that doth tune his voice,
Unto such notes as music's skill hath set;
Whose heart doth in the harmony rejoice,
Where pleasing consorts are most kindly met:
But still perhaps his spirit doth forget,
In all his hymns, and songs, and sweetest lays,
To think of God, or of his worthy praise.
The politician hath a world of plots,
In which his spirit hath special spies;
Ties, and unties a thousand sundry knots,
In which the substance of his study lies;
And many tricks his close experience tries,
How to deceive the world with many a wile;
But never thinks on God in all the while.
The traveller delighteth in the view
Of change and choice of sundry kind of creatures;
To mark the habits, and to note the hue
Of far born people and their sundry natures,
Their shapes, their speech, their gaits, their looks, their
And longs abroad to make his life's abode :
Yet haply never longs to be with God.
The painter in his colors takes delight,
And near the life to make the livelihood;
While only shadows do deceive the sight,
That take such pleasure in a piece of wood;
But doth not long for that same living food,
Which neither eye hath seen, nor heart conceived,
The God of truth, that never soul deceived.
The lover, he, but on his lady thinketh,
And how to catch her in a kind content;
And looks, and leers, and trolls the eye, and winketh;
And seeks how thoughts in silence may be sent ;
And longs to see the end of his intent:
And thinks himself a king, to get a kiss;
But where is God in all these thoughts of his ?
Th' artificer that hath a work to do,
And brings his. hand unto his head's device,
Longs till he see what it will come unto,
And how his pains hath profit in the price,
And having cast it over twice or thrice,
Joys in his heart: but scarcely hath a thought,
To thank his God, that him the cunning taught
The churl that sits and champs upon his chaff,
And will not stir a foot from his barn floor,
Except it be among his bags to laugh,
He can the poor so with his purse devour,
Longs but to use the poison of his power
T'enrich himself, to bring a world to naught;
Shows that God never dwells within his thought.
As for those beggarly conditions
Of basest trades, that like to miry hogs,
Do show their spirit's dispositions,
In digging with their noses under logs
For slime and worms, or like to ravening dogs,
Longs but for that which doth the belly fill,
Most of them think on God against their will,
These are the worldlings, and their world's delights,
Whose longing, God knows, is not worth the loving:
These are the objects of those evil sights,
That Virtue hath from her fair eyes removing;
These are the passions of Corruption's proving:
But they that love and long for God, his sight,
In worldly trifles never take delight.
The prince, anointed with the oil of grace,
Who sits with Mercy, in the seat of peace,
Will long to see his Savior in the face,
And all his right into his hands release;
(Whose only sight would make all sorrow cease),
And lay both crown and kingdom at his feet,
But of his presence to enjoy the sweet.
The chancellor with heaven.y grace inspired,
Where wisdom guides the lineaments of wit,
Although he hath to honor's place aspired,
His heart doth show it longs not after it;
His love desires a higher mark to hit :
For while he leaneth on his prince's breast,
His longing is, but with his God to rest.
The courtier, that is once in God his grace,
Whatever countenance in the court he bears,
His heart aspireth to a better place;
Which humble love doth long for with those t
Which all to naught the pride of pleasure wea 1.
And never rests until his God he sees,
With whom his soul in love doth long to be.
The soldier that hath fought the spirit's fight,
Will put off war, and long to live in peace;
And not in discord, but concord delight,
While gracious kindness makes all quarrels et
While patience doth all passions so appease,
That he shall find that soldier only blcst,
Whose faith, in God, doth set his soul at re
The lawyer that hath read the laws of God,
And in his heart is touched with his love,
And knows the smart of the supernal rod,
Will one day work, for silly souls' behove,
Who have their comfort in the heavens above
Will leave all golden fees to see the grace,
That mercy's justice shows in Jesus' face.
The scholar that begins with Christ his cross,
And seeks good speed but in the Holy Ghost,
Finds by his book that silver is but dross,
And all his labor in his study lost;
Where faith, of mercy, can not sweetly boast,
And love doth long for any other bliss,
Than what in God, and in his graces is,
And such a poet, as the psalmist was,
Who had no mind but on his master's love,
Whose muses did the world in music pass,
That only sung but of the soul's behove,
In giving glory to the God above,
Would all world's fictions wholly lay aside,
And only long but with the Lord to bide.
The cosmographer, that by rules of grace
Surveys the city of the heavenly saints,
Will never long for any earthly place,
That either pen prescribes, or painter paints;
But in the faith that never fails, nor faints,
Will long to see in heaven's Jerusalein
The gracious God of glorious diadem.
The true astronomer that sees the sun,
And knows that God from whom it takes his light,
And in the course the moon and stars do run,
Finds the true guider of the day and night,
Longs but to see his only blessed sight,
Who sun, and moon, and stars their brightness give
And in whose face all brightness, glory, lives.
The mariner that oft hath past the seas,
And in his perils seen the power of God,
Whose only mercy doth the storms appease,
And brings the ship unto his wished road,
Will never long on earth to make abode;
But in the heavens to see that blessed hand,
That at his beck so rules both sea and land.
The merchant that hath cast within his mind,
How much the spirit's gain the flesh surmounts,
And by his faith in mercy's love doth find
The joyful sum of such a soul's accounts,
As to salvation of the whole amounts;
Will leave the world but on Christ's face to look,
Which all the faithful make their living book.
The farmer that hath felt his neighbor's need,
And found how God and charity are one;
And knows there is a better kind of feed,
Than grass, or corn, or flesh, or blood, or bone,
Will wish himself from his world's treasure gone,
Upon those joys to feed in mercy's bliss,
Where Christ his presence is heaven's paradise.
The true physician that doth know the natures
And dispositions of each element,
And knows that God created hath all creatures
Beneath, and eke above the firmament,
And over all hath only government,
Will only long that glorious God to know,
That gives the sickness and doth cure it so.
The soul's musician that doth find the ground
Of truest music, but in God his grace,
Will think all singing but an idle sound,
Where God his praise hath not the highest place,
And only longs to see that blessed face,
Which makes the virgins, saints, and angels, sing
An hallelujah to their heavenly king.
The preacher, that doth in his soul believe
The word of God, which to the world he teacheth,
And in his spirit inwardly doth grieve,
He can not live so heavenly as he preacheth,
While faith no further than to mercy reacheth;
Would wish in soul to leave his benefice,
To make himself to Christ a sacrifice.
The politician that hath plotted much
In worldly matters, greatly to his gain;
Will find, if God do once his spirit touch,
Zaccheus' heart will have another vein
To limb aloft, and to come down again;
And leave all plots to come but to that place,
Where he might see sweet Jesus in the face.
The artificer that hath a work in hand,
And feels the grace of God within his heart;
And by the same doth surely understand,
How God alone perfecteth every part,
And only is the giver of all art,
Will gladly leave his work and long to be,
Where he might Christ his soul's work-master see.
The painter that doth paint a dainty image
So near the life, as may be to the same,
And makes an ass unto an owl do homage,
While shadows bring the senses out of frame,
If God his heart once with his love inflame,
His pictures all will under foot be trod,
And he will long but for the living God.
The traveller that walks the world about,
And sees the glorious works of God on high;
If God his grace once kindly find him out,
And unto heaven do lift his humble eye,
His soul in faith will such perfections spy,
That leaving all that be on earth can see,
His love will long but with the Lord to be.
The churl that never chaunc't upon a thought
Or charity, nor what belongs thereto;
If God his grace have once his spirit brought,
To feel what good the faithful almers do,
The love of Christ will so his spirit woo,
That he will leave barns, corn, and bags of coin,
And land and life, with Jesus' love to join.
Thus from the prince unto the poorest state,
Who seems to live as void of reason's sense,
If God once come, who never comes too late,
And touch the soul with his sweet quintessence
Of mercy's gracious glorious patience,
His soul will leave whatever it doth love,
And long to live but with the Lord above.
Now to the tenure of that longing time,
That loving spirits think too long will last;
The maid new inairied, in her pregnant prime,
Longs till the time of forty weeks be past,
And blameth time he makes no greater haste;
Till in her arms she sweetly have received
Her comforts fruit, within her womb conceived
Thus forty weeks she labors all in love,
And at the last doth travail all in pain:
But shortly after doth such comfort prove,
As glads her heart, and makes all whole again;
So in her infant's pretty smiling vein
Pleasing herself, that all her grief is gone,
When she may have her babe to look upon.
Penelope, at her dear love's departing,
In sober kindness did conceal her care;
Though in her heart she had that inward smarting,
That Time's continuance after did declare;
Where constant love did show, without compare,
A perfect passion of true virtues vain,
Longing but for Ulysses home again.
How many years the story doth set down,
In which she felt the gall of absence, grief:
When constant faith on foul effects did frown,
Which sought to be to charity a thief,
Of nature's beauty the true honor chief:
Long languishing in absence, cruel hell;
But when she saw his presence all is well.
But if I may in holy lines begin,
To speak of Joseph, and his longing love
Unto his brethren, but to Benjamin
To note the passion Nature did approve,
Which did such tears in his affection move,
That well from thence the proverb sweet might spring
The love of brethren is a blessed thing.
Well may I see the notes of Nature's grief,
In absence of the object of affection;
And longing for the substance of relief,
In presence find the life of love's perfection,
While eye and heart are led by one direction;
Yet all this while I do not truly prove
The blessed longing of the spirit's love.
When Mary Magdalen, so full of sin,
As made her heart a harbor of ill thought,
Felt once the grace of God to enter in,
And drive them out that her destruction sought;
Her soul was then to Jesus' love so wrought,
As that with tears in true affect did prove
The pleasing longing of the spirit's love.
In grief she went all weeping to his grave,
Longing to see him or alive or dead;
And would not cease until her love might have
Her longed fruit, on which her spirit fed,
One blessed crumb of that sweet heavenly bread
Of angels' food, but of her Lord a sight,
Whose heavenly presence proved her soul's delight.
Midas did long for nothing else but gold,
And he was kindly choked for his choice;
Such longing love doth with too many hold,
Which only do in worldly dross rejoice.
But did they hearken to the heavenly voice,
Their diamonds should not so for dross be sold,
And they would long for God and not for gold.
Zaccheus, too long, longed for such dross,
Till Jesus came, his spirit's further joy;
And then he found his vain did yield but loss,
While sin in conscience bred the soul's annoy,
And unto heaven the world was but a toy;
He left it all and climbed up a tree,
To show his longing how but Christ to see.
And well he longed that so his love received,
Who sweetly saw, and kindly called him down:
His stature low, but his love high conceived,
Who so was graced by Mercy's glorious crown,
As having cause upon his sins to frown;
Forgave the works that did deserve damnation,
And filled his house with glory of salvation.
A blessing longing of a blessed love!
Would so all souls did love, and so did long;
And in their longing might so sweetly prove
The gracious ground of such a glorious song,
As kills all sin that doth the spirit wrong;
And sing with Simeon at his Savior's sight,
"On now my soul depart in peace, delight!"
Oh blessed Simeon, blessed was thy love.
And thy love's longing for thy Savior so,
Who wrought so sweetly for thy soul's behove,
As from thy prayers would not let thee go,
Till to thy love he did his presence show,
Which made thee sing, when sorrows all dd cease,
"Lord, iet thy servant now depart in peace!"
"For I, according to thy word, have seen
The glorious substance of my soul's salvation;
Thy word, in whom my trust hath ever been,
And now hath found my comfort's confirmation !"
Thus did he make a joyful declaration
Of that sweet sight of his sweet Savior's face,
That was the glory of his spirit's grace.
How many years he all in prayer spent,
For the beholding of his blessed love!
What was the issue of his hope's event,
And how his prayers did prevail above,
That so his God did unto mercy move,
As to his arms to send his only Son,
The story doth of all th' Apostles run!
He was well called, good Simeon, for that grace,
That God hath given the spirit of his love;
That love that longed but in his Savior's face,
To see the blessing of his soul's behove,
And blessed prayer, that did truly prove
A blessed soul, that could not prayer cease,
Till Christ his presence came to give it peace.
So should all souls their love's chief longing have,
All souls I mean of every Christian heart,
That seek or hope both heart and soul to save
From hell, damnation, and supernal smart ;
This is the love that, in the living part
Of mercy's power, shall find that blessedness,
That is the spirit's only happiness.
Nor can love look to limit out a time,
But now and then and evermore attend;
For he shall never to that comfort climb,
That will not all his life in prayer spend,
Until he see his Savior in the end:
In whose sweet face doth all and only rest
The heavenly joy that makes the spirit blest.
Blest be the spirit that so longs and loves,
As did Zaccheus and good Simeon :
And from his faithful prayer never moves,
Until he find his life to look upon,
And in such love is all so over-gone,
That in such joy his heart and spirit dwells,
As having Christ, it cares for nothing else.
Oh blessed Christ, the essence of all bliss,
All blessed souls love's longings' chief delight!
What heart can think how that soul blessed is,
That ever hath his Savior in his sight?
The sunny day that never hath a night?
Oh that my spirit might so ever pray,
That I might live to see that blessed day.
The day that only springeth from on high,
That high daylight wherein the heavens do live
The life that loves but to behold that eye,
Which doth the glory of all brightness give,
And from th' enlight'ned doth all darkness driv? :
Where saints do see, and angels know to be
A brighter light, than saints or angels see.
In this light's love, oh, let me ever live!
And let my soul have never other love,
But all the pleasures of the world to give,
The smallest spark of such a joy to prove,
And ever pray unto my God above,
To grant my humble soul good Simeon's grace.
In love to see my Savior in the face.
O face more fair than fairness can contain:
O eye more bright than brightness can declare:
O light more pure than passion can explain:
O life more blest than may with bliss compare:
O heaven of heavens where such perfections are!
Let my soul live to love, to long, to be
Ever in prayer, but to look on thee!
But, oh unworthy eye of such a sight;
And all unworthy heart of such a love;
Unworthy love, to long for such a light;
Unworthy longing such a life to prove;
Unworthy life, so high a suit to move!
Thus all unworthy of to high a grace,
How shall I see any Savior in the face?
All by the prayer of true penitence,
Where faith in tears attendeth grace's time,
My soul doth hope in mercy's patience,
My heart all cleansed from my sinful crime,
To see the springing of Aurora's prime,
In those bright beams of that sweet blessed sun
Of my dear God, in whom all bliss begur.
And that my soul may such a blessing see,
Let my heart pray, and praying never cease,
Till heart and soul may both together be,
Blest in thy sight all sorrows doth release;
And with good Simeon then depart in peace!
Oh then: but then, and only ever then,
Blest be my soul, sweet Jesus say Amen.
OTHER POEMS BY VARIOUS AUTHORS
WHAT are all the charms of earth, All its pride, its treasures, worth, With no partner at your side, Thoughts and feelings to divide ?
Therefore God, with gracious plan,
Saw, and said, and showed that man
Ne'er was made to live alone-
Therefore marriage first was known.
But without Divine communion,
What is Nature's tenderest union;
'Tis no portion for the soul,
Joy to fix, or grief control.
Where no heavenly love is found,
There can human long abound?
Iron there, the silken chain,
'Tis mere doubleness of pain!
Still may heavenly love secure
Human ties more sweet and pure:
So these human ties shall prove
Means to aid that holier love.
Then, your trial done, from this
School and type of perfect bliss,
Ye, rejoicing, in the skies,
To the marriage-feast shall rise!
WHERE burns the loved hearth brightest,
Cheering the social breast?
Where beats the fond heart lightest
Its humble hopes possessed?
Where is the smile of sadness,
Of meek-eyed patience born,
Worth re than those of gladness,
Which mirth's bright cheek adorn!
Pleasure is marked by fleetness
To those who ever roam,
While grief itself has sweetness
At home, dear home.
WHEN on her Maker's bosom
The new-born earth was laid, And nature's opening blossom Its fairest bloom displayed; When all with fruit and flowers The laughing soil was drest, And Eden's fragrant bowers Received their human guest:
No sin his face defiling,
The Heir of nature stood, And God, benignly smiling, Beheld that all was good! Yet, in that hour of blessing, A single want was knownA wish, the heart distressing, For Adam was alone! Oh God of pure affection!
By men and saints adored, Who gavest thy protection To Cana's nuptial board; May such thy bounties ever
THE PASTOR'S MARRIAGE.
"A good wife is from the I ord."
DEAR messenger of truth div.ne,
Upon whose heart imprest,
Thy people like the jewels shine,
As when of old the mystic sign
Appeared on Aaron's breast.
on the sacred wings of prayer,
Thy name has risen above,
That He, who made our souls his care,
Himself might heavenly influence styre,
Strong in the work of love.
Though not for earthly good we sought
(Thy Lord that need would know),
Yet, that thy service for him wrought
Might be with choicest blessings fraught,
To srooh thy path below.
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