Your tribes of disciples may boast of their head, And the flock of the Saviour deride: Jehovah hath told us their leader is dead, Though he speaks to accuse them of pride. I thought to have rais'd your demand from my trade, A second discharge of a bill that is past The sum for the which you arrested me last Why so many preachers, I cannot devise; Of help from the law I for ever despair'd, What mortal can think he (with truth) can be clear'd, Vain rebels can sport with the bounds of the mount, Till by thundering threat'nings they're aw'd; And wantonly dream of a balanc'd account, Till they see the commandment so broad. In open defiance, they daringly peep, They boast of escaping the deluge of wrath, And hope to get life from the sentence of death, They seek for a portion with glorify'd saints, And call out for mercy, and urge their complaints, What wretches! to play at the fiery throne, Where beasts that approach must be slain with a stone, The glorify'd Judge shall assemble the lost, And builders and buildings shall find, to their cost, The archangel's trump, and the sentence, shall blast; And mortals deluded convinc'd at the last, END OF THE FIRST PART. THE SECOND PART. How ow sweet are the joys of a Spiritual Birth, How delightful the comforts within, When weeping and mourning are silenc'd by mirth, And the conscience disburden'd of sin! All doubtings and fearings are made to subside, The fetters are broke, and the bondage untied, Stern Justice refuses to carry the suit, The debtor's amaz'd when the creditor's mute; All torments and terrors take flight, and are gone, And divine consolations succeed; Believers and Jesus how happy alone, When Elias and Moses are fled! Regardless he seem'd when he wrote on the ground; But, as soon as he lift up his head, The Law, Sin, nor Satan, could neither be found, For all mine accusers were filed. Hath no man condemn'd thee," he cry'd withcondole, Though guilty by every plea? "Nor will I condemn thee, thou penitent soul, "Nor permit them to pluck thee from me. "Peace be unto thee, and an end to the strife, "For I am the First and the Last: "I pardon thee freely, and raise thee to life; "Nor upbraid thee for aught that is past." Thus wounded with sorrow, and melted with love, A victim to mercy I fell; Amaz'd he should come from the regions above, With the keys both of death and of hell! My clouds of transgressions were chas'd from the skies By faith in the Saviour from death we arise, |