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Upon the Epiphany, and the three wise Men of the East coming to worship Jesus.
A COMET, dangling in the air,
Presag'd the ruin both of death and sin;
The King of glory, and the Sun
Of righteousness, who then begun
Till they appear
In this blest infant King's propitious eye,
Present ourselves before thy majesty,
Yet it is soft, and may
Accept it, Lord, and say, this thou hadst rather;
Thy holy image, and it shall outshine
The beauty of the golden mine. Amen.
A MEDITATION OF THE FOUR LAST THINGS,
DEATH, JUDGMENT, HEAVEN, AND HELL;
FOR THE TIME OF LENT ESPECIALLY.
A Meditation of Death.
DEATH, the old serpent's son,
Thou hadst a sting once, like thy sire, That carried hell, and ever-burning fire: But those black days are done;
Thy foolish spite buried thy sting
In the profound and wide
Wound of our Saviour's side:
And now thou art become a tame and harmless thing, A thing we dare not fear,
Since we hear,
That our triumphant God, to punish thee
A porter to the gate of life, thy mortal enemy.
And thither fly,
Let us into the courts of heaven, through thee!
Of the Day of Judgment.
GREAT Judge of all, how we vile wretches quake!
Our marrow freezes, when we think
And horrid phials, thou shalt make
When thou the winepress of thy wrath shalt tread
Sinful rebellious clay! what unknown place
When earth shall vanish from thy sight,
Thy laws, shall from thy presence take their flight, And kill'd with glory, their bright eyes stark dead Start from their head:
Lord, how shall we,
Thy enemies, endure to see
So bright, so killing majesty?.
Mercy, dear Saviour: thy judgment seat
We dare not, Lord, intreat;
We are condemn'd already, there.
On thy book
Of life; Lord, we can read the saving Jesus, here, And in his name our own salvation see:
O BEAUTEOUs God, uncircumscribed treasure
Of an eternal pleasure,
Thy throne is seated far
That builds his hopes on thy merit,
Can speak, or think, or see,
Where the great King's transparent throne
There the eye
O' th' chrysolite,
And a sky
Of diamonds, rubies, chrysoprase,
Makes an eternal clarity.
When thou thy jewels up dost bind, that day
Remember us, we pray,
That where the beryl lies
And the crystal, 'bove the skies,
There thou may'st appoint us place
Within the brightness of thy face;
In the scroll
Of life and blissfulness enrol,
That we may praise thee to eternity.
HORRID darkness, sad and sore;
Groans and shrieks, and thousands more
In the want of glorious light!
In the accursed lake:
Seas of fire, beds of snow,
A viper from the fire
That knows not moments from eternity.
Spring of eternal light,
Allelujahs, hymns, and psalms,
And coronets of palms,
Fill thy temple evermore.
O mighty God,
Let not thy bruising rod
Crush our loins with an eternal pressure;
And none be left to glorify
How thou hast sav'd our souls from hell.
On the Conversion of St. Paul.
FULL of wrath, his threatening breath
By a voice and a light,
To beautify one day,
It would not show so glorious and so bright.
That day might break within ;
And, by those beams of faith,
Make him of a child of wrath
Become a vessel full of glory.
Lord, curb us in our dark and sinful way;
We humbly pray;
When we down horrid precipices run
With feet that thirst to be undone,
That this may be our story.