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Help, lord, my Hope increase; And fill my portion in thy peace. Give love for life; nor let my dayes
Grow, but in new powres to thy name & praise.
O dear memoriall of that Death
My life, my soul, my surer selfe to mee.
O soft self-wounding Pelican!
Whose brest weepes Balm for wounded man.
To'a bleeding Heart that gaspes for blood.
LAUDA SION SALVATOREM.
Ise, Royall SION! rise & sing
Thy soul's kind shepheard, thy hart's KING. Stretch all thy powres; call if thou can
Harpes of heavn to hands of man.
This soveraign subject sitts above
The best ambition of thy love.
Lo the BREAD of LI[F]E, this day's
Come, love! & let us work a song Lowd & pleasant, sweet & long;
Let lippes & Hearts lift high the noise
Of so just & solemn joyes,
Which on his white browes this bright day
Shall hence for ever bear away.
Lo the new LAW of a new LORD.
With a new Lamb blesses the Board.
Types yeild to TRUTHES; shades shrink away;
But lest THAT dy too, we are bid.
The Heavn-instructed house of FAITH
That they but lend their Form & face,
By' a nobler Bread, more needfull BLOOD.
Where nature's lawes no leave will give, Bold FAITH takes heart, & dares beleive In different species, name not things, Himself to me my SAVIOUR brings, As meat in That, as Drink in this; But still in Both one CHRIST he is.
The Receiving Mouth here makes Non wound nor breach in what he takes. Let one, or one THOUSAND be
Here Dividers, single he
Beares home no lesse, all they no more,
Nor leave they both lesse then before.
Though in it self this SOVERAIN FEAST Be all the same to every Guest, Yet on the same (life-meaning) Bread The child of Death eates himself Dead. Nor is't love's fault, but sin's dire skill That thus from LIFE can DEATH distill.
When the blest signes thou broke shall see, Hold but thy Faith intire as he
Who, howsoe're clad, cannot come
Lesse then whole CHRIST in every crumme.
Lo the life-food of ANGELLS then
Bow'd to the lowly mouths of men!
The children's BREAD; the Bridegroom's WINE.
Not to be cast to dogges, or swine.
Lo, the full, finall, SACRI[F]ICE
JESU MASTER, Just & true!
Our Food, & faithfull SHEPHARD too!
As with thy selfe thou feed'st thy SHEEP.
O let that love which thus makes thee
Mix with our low Mortality,
Lift our lean Soules, & sett us up
Drink the same wine; and the same WAY.
IN MEDITATION OF
THE DAY OF
Ears't thou, my soul, with serious things
Of a sure judge, from whose sharp Ray
O that fire! before whose face
O that trump! whose blast shall r[u]n An even round with the circling Sun. And urge the murmuring graves to bring Pale mankind forth to meet his king.
Horror of nature, hell & Death! When a deep Groan from beneath Shall cry we come, we come & all The caves of night answer one call