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No grief was like that, which he grieved for me,
A greater grief than can be told :
If I could grieve so, as I would :
And will accept, that died for me.
Lord, as thy grief and death for me are mine,
For thou hast given them unto me;
For they are wrought only by the
With that, which thou thyself hast raised.
THE RESURRECTION, OR EASTER-DAY.
UP, and away,
Thy Saviour's gone before. . Why dost thou stay,
Dull soul ? Behold, the door Is open, and his Precept bids thee rise, Whose power hath vanquish'd all thine enemies.
Say not, I live,
Whilst in the grave thou liest : He that doth give
Thee life would have thee prize't More highly than to keep it buried, where Thou canst not make the fruits of it appear.
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,
To show, by thy behaviour,
Early he rose,
And with him brought the day,
Frighted out of the way:
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
And it must there be sought,
THE ASCENSION, OR HOLY THURSDAY.
Mount, mount, my soul, and climb, or rather fly
With all thy force on high, Thy Saviour rose not only, but ascended;
And he must be attended Both in his conquest and his triumph too.
His glories strongly woo His graces to them, and will not appear In their full lustre, until both be there,
Where he now sits, not for himself alone,
But that upon his throne All his redeemed may attendants be
Robed, and crown'd as he. Kings without Courtiers are lone men, they say ;
And dost thou think to stay 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.
Nothing is wanting there,
And, above all the rest,
Higher than what is high’st.
But tower, my soul, and soar above the skies,
Where thy true treasure lies.
Though with corruption and mortality
Thou clogg'd and pinion'd be ;
Speedily glide away.
NAY, startle not to hear that rushing wind
Wherewith this place is shaken : Attend a while, and thou shalt quickly find,
How much thou art mistaken ;
If thou think here
Seest thou not how on those twelve reverend heads
Sit cloven tongues of fire ? And as the rumour of that wonder spreads,
The multitude admire
To see it : and
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
Mock not, profane despisers of the Spirit,
At what's to you unknown: This earnest he hath sent, who must inherit
All nations as his own :
That they may know
Now that he is ascended up on high
To his celestial throne, And hath led captive all captivity,
He'll not receive alone,
But likewise give
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
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,
Heaven's lieger 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
Thus Babel's curse, confusion, is retrieved ;
Diversity of tongues