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Or, when he hungry is, for better food
To feed upon,
Than this alone,
And if he be amiss,
The true Panchreston 'tis for every sore
And sickness, which
The poor, and rich
'Tis Heaven in perspective, and the bliss
Of glory here,
If any where,
Whilst faith to every word
It is the Looking-glass of souls, wherein
All men may see,
Whether they be
Or in a better case,
'Tis the great Magazine of spiritual arms,
Wherein doth lie
That might come by the blows
God's Cabinet of revealed counsel 'tis :
Where weal and woe
Are order'd so,
Unless his own mistake
It is the Index to Eternity.
He cannot miss
Of endless bliss,
Nor can he be mistook,
A Book, to which no Book may be compared
It is the Book of God. What if I should
Say, God of Books ?
Let him that looks
His thoughts in silence smother,
"Tis dinner time : and now I look For a full meal. God send me a good Cook :
This is the dresser-board, and here I wait in expectation of good cheer.
I'm sure the Master of the house Enough to entertain his guests allows : And not enough of some one sort alone, But choice of what best fitteth every one.
God grant me taste and stomach good : My feeding will diversify my food;
'Tis a good appetite to eat,
The best food in itself will be,
'Tis Manna that I look for here,
No want of plenty, where I know
Where nothing but forbearance makes
; Take nothing to himself, but what he should.
Here the same fountain poureth forth
Of all transcendent, infinite
In fitness answerable ; so
Yea, dead men here invited are
To come and take it, they must blame
The body's fed by food, which it
To milk the strongest men must be As new-born babes, whenever they it see,
Desiring, not despising it.
Themselves in time, until they can
Here I will wait then; till I see The steward reaching out a mess for me:
Resolve I'll take it thankfully, Whate'er it be, and feed on't heartily.
Although no Benjamin's choice mess, Five times as much as others, but far less ; Yea, if it be but a basket full of crumbs, I'll bless the hand, from which, by which, it comes.
Like an invited guest, I will
And see what the Master of the feast
Which he doth choose for me, not I Myself desire : yea, though I should espy Some fault in the dressing, in the dishing, or The placing, yet I will not it abhor.
So that the meat be wholesome, though The sauce shall not be toothsome, I'll not go
Empty away, and starve my soul, To feed my foolish fancy ; but control
My appetite to dainty things, Which oft instead of strength diseases brings : But, if my Pulpit-hopes shall all prove vain, I'll back unto the Reading-pew again.
THE COMMUNION TABLE.
HERE stands my banquet ready, the last course,
And best provision,
That I must feed upon,
And that I am
Some call’t the Altar, some the holy Table.
The name I stick not at,
Whether't be this, or that, I care not much, so that I may be able
Truly to know Both why it is, and may be called so.
And for the matter whereof it is made,
The matter is not much,
Although it be of tuch, 1
1. Tuch :' old word for cloth.