AGAINST IRRESOLUTION AND DELAY IN

MATTERS OF RELIGION.

WHAT Heav'n-besiegèd heart is this
Stands trembling at the Gate of Blisse:
Holds fast the door, yet dares not venture
Fairly to open and to enter?

Whose definition is, A Doubt

5

"Twixt life and death, 'twixt In and Out.

Ah! linger not, lov'd soul: a slow

And late consent was a long No.
Who grants at last, a great while try'de
And did his best, to have deny'de

What magick-bolts, what mystick barrs.
Maintain the Will in these strange warrs?
What fatall, yet fantastick, bands
Keep the free heart from his own hands?
Say, lingring Fair, why comes the birth
Of your brave soul so slowly forth?
Plead your pretences (O you strong
In weaknesse) why you chuse so long
In labour of your self to ly,

Not daring quite to live nor die.

VOL. I.

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So when the Year takes cold we see
Poor waters their own prisoners be :

Fetter'd an 1 lock'd up fast they lie

In a cold self-captivity.

[plore,

The astonish'd Nymphs their Floud's strange fate deTo find thetas dyes their own severer shoar.

Love, that lends haste to heaviest things,

In you alone hath lost his wings.

Look round and reade the World's wide face,
The field of Nature or of Grace;
Where can you fix, to find excuse

26

30

Or pattern for the pace you use !

Mark with what faith fruits answer flowers,
And know the call of Heav'n's kind showers :
Each min full plant hasts to make good
The hope and promise of his bud.
Seed time's not all; there should be harvest too,
Alas! an 1 has the Year no Spring for you?

Both winds and waters urge their way,

35

And murmure if they meet a stay.

40

Mark how the curl'd waves work and wind,
All hating to be left behind.

pure 45

Each bigge with businesse thrusts the other,
And seems to say. Make haste, my brother.
The aiery nation of neat doves,
That draw the chariot of chast Loves,
Chide your delay: yea those dull things,
Whose wayes have least to doe with wings,

Make wings at least of their own weight,
And by their love controll their Fate.
So lumpish steel, untaught to move,
Learn'd first his lightnesse by his love.

What e're Love's matter be, he moves

50

By th' even wings of his own doves,
Lives by his own laws, and does hold

55

As if the bargain had been driven

So hardly betwixt Earth and Heaven;
Our God would thrive too fast, and be
Too much a gainer by't, should we
Our purchas'd selves too soon bestow
On Him, who has not lov'd us so.
When love of us call'd Him to see
If wee'd vouchsafe His company,

65

(When one poor sigh sends for Him down)

Detain Him, but He leaves behind

75

The late wings of the lazy wind,

So when the Year takes cold we see
Poor waters their own prisoners be :

Fetter'd and lock'd up fast they lie

In a cold self-captivity.

[plore,

Th' astonish'd Nymphs their Floud's strange fate deTo find themselves their own severer shoar.

Love, that lends haste to heaviest things,

In you alone hath lost his wings.

Look round and reade the World's wide face,
The field of Nature or of Grace;
Where can you fix. to find excuse

26

30

Or pattern for the pace you use !

Mark with what faith fruits answer flowers,
And know the call of Heav'n's kind showers:
Each mindfull plant hasts to make good 35
The hope and promise of his bud.

Seed time's not all; there should be harvest too,
Alas! and has the Year no Spring for you!

Both winds and waters urge their way,

And mu mure if they meet a stay.

40

Mark how the curl'd waves work and wind,
All hating to be left behind.

pe 45

Each bigge with businesse thrusts the other,
And seems to say. Make haste, my brother.
The aiery nation of neat doves.
That draw the chariot of chast Loves,
Chide your delay: yea those dull things,
Whose wayes have least to doe with wings,

Make wings at least of their own weight,
And by their love controll their Fate.
So lumpish steel, untaught to move,
Learn'd first his lightnesse by his love.

What e're Love's matter be, he moves

By th' even wings of his own doves,

50

Lives by his own laws, and does hold

55

In grossest metalls his own gold.

All things swear friends to Fair and Good

Yea suitours; man alone is wo'ed,

Tediously wo'ed, and hardly wone:
Only not slow to be undone.

бо

As if the bargain had been driven

So hardly betwixt Earth and Heaven;
Our God would thrive too fast, and be
Too much a gainer by't, should we
Our purchas'd selves too soon bestow
On Him, who has not lov'd us so.
When love of us call'd Him to see
If wee'd vouchsafe His company,

65

(When one poor sigh sends for Him down)

Detain Him, but He leaves behind

75

The late wings of the lazy wind,