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Conclude not he in wrath difowns,

When trouble thee furrounds; These are his favourable frowns, Thy Hufband's healing wounds. Yea, when he gives the deepest lafh, Love leads the wounding hand: His ftroke, when fin has got a dash, Thy Hufband will remand.

SECT. IX.

Comfort to BELIEVERS, in CHRIST'S Rlations, in bis dying Love, bis Glory in Heaven, to which he will lead them through Death, and fupply with neceffaries by the way.

BEHOLD the patrimony broad

That to thee by line;

In him thou art an heir of God,
Thy Hufband's Father's thine.
He is of relatives a store,

Thy Friend will help in thrall;
Thy Brother much, thy Father more,
Thy Hufband most of all.

All these he does amafs and fhare,
In ways that most excell;
'Mong all the husband's ever were,
Thy Husband bears the bell.
Whence run the ftreams of all thy good,
But from his pierced fide?
With liquid gold of precious blood
Thy Hufband bought his bride.

His blood abundant value bore,

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To make his purchase broad; 'Twas fair divinity in gore, Thy Hufband is thy God.

Who purchas'd at the higheft price,
Be crown'd with highest praife;
For in the highest paradife
Thy Hufband wears the bays.

150

He is of heav'n the comely rofe,

His beauty makes it fair;

Heav'n were but hell, couldft thou suppose
Thy Husband were not there.

He thither did in pomp afcend,
His spouse along to bring;
That hallelujahs without end
Thy Husband's bride may fing.
Ev'n there with him for ever fix'd
His glory fhalt thou fee;

And nought but death is now betwixt
Thy Hufband's throne and thee.
He'll order death, that porter rude,
To ope the gates of brass;
For, lo! with characters of blood
Thy Hufband wrote thy pass.
At Jordan deep then be not fear'd,
Though difmal-like and broad;
Thy fun will guide, thy fhield will guard,
Thy Husband pav'd the road.

He'll lead thee fafe, and bring theé home,
And ftill let bleffings fall

Of grace while here, till glory come :
Thy Hufband's bound for all.

His ftore can answer ev'ry bill,

Thy food and raiment's bought;
Be at his will, thou'lt have thy fill,
Thy Husband wants for nought.
What can thy foul conceive it lacks?
His ftore, his pow'r is thine;
His lib'ral heart to lib'ral acts
Thy Husband does incline.

Though on thy hand, that has no might,
He fhould no task enlarge;

Nor work, nor warfare, needs thee fright,
Thy Husband bears the charge.
Thou wouldst (if left) thy felf undo,
So apt to fall and ftray:

But he uplifts, and leads the too;

Thy Hufband knows the way.

SECT. X.

Comfort to BELIEVERS from the text, Thy Maker is thy Husband, inverted thus, Thy Hufband is thy Maker; and the conclufion of this fubject.

OF

F light and life, of grace and glore,
In Chrift thou art partaker.

Rejoice in him for evermore,

Thy Hufband is thy Maker.

He made thee, yea, made thee his bride,
Nor heeds thine ugly patch;
To what he made he'll ftill abide,
Thy Husband made the match.
He made all, yea, he made all thine,
All to thee fhall be giv'n.
Who can thy kingbom undermine?
Thy Hufband made the heav'n.
What earthly thing can thee annoy?
He made the earth to be;
The waters cannot thee deftroy,
Thy Hufband made the fea.
Don't fear the flaming element
Thee hurt with burning ire,
Or that the scorching heat torment:
Thy Hufband made the fire.
Infectious ftreams fhall ne'er deftroy,
While he is pleas'd to fpare;
Thou shalt thy vital breath enjoy,
Thy Hufband made the air.

The fun that guides the golden day,
The moon that rules the night,
The starry frame, the milky way,
Thy Hufband made for light.
The bird that wings its airy path,
The fifh that cuts the flood,
The creeping croud that swarms beneath,
Thy Hufband made for good.

The grazing herd, the beafts of prey,

The creatures great and small,

For thy behoof their tribute pay;

Thy Hufband made them all.

Thine's Paul, Apollos, life and death,
Things prefent, things to be;
And ev'ry thing that being hath,
Thy Hufband made for thee.
In Tophet where the damn'd refort,
Thy foul fhall never dwell,
Nor needs from thence imagine hurt;
Thy Hufband formed hell.
Satan with inftruments of his
May rage, yet dread no evil;
So far as he a creature is,
Thy Hufband made the devil.
His black temptations may afflict,
His fiery darts annoy ;
But all his works, and hellifh trick,
Thy Hufband will deftroy.

Let armies ftrong of earthly gods
Combine with hellish ghofts,
They live, or languish, at his nods;

Thy Hufband's Lord of hofts.

What can thee hurt? whom doft thou fear?

All things are at his call.

Thy Maker is thy Hufband dear,

Thy Hufband all in all.

What doft thou feek? what doft thou want?

He'll thy defires fulfil;

He gave himself, what won't he grant?

Thy Hufband's at thy will.

The more thou doft of him defire,

The more he loves to give : High let thy mounting aims afpire,

Thy Husband gives thee leave.

The lefs thou feek'ft, the lefs thou doft

His bounty fet on high;

But higheft feekers here do moft

Thy husband glorify.

Wouldst thou have grace? Well; but 'tis meet

He should more glory gain.

Wouldst thou have Father, Son, and Sp'rit? Thy Hufband fays, AMEN.

He'll kindly act the lib'ral God,
Devifing lib'ral things;

With royal gifts his fubjects load:
Thy Hufband's King of kings.
No earthly monarch have fuch store
-As thou haft ev'n in hand;
But, O how infinitely more
Thy Husband gives on band!
Thou haft indeed the better part,
The part will fail thee never :
Thy Husband's hand, thy Hufband's heart,
Thy Hufband's all for ever.

GOSPEL-SONNETS.

PART.

III.

The BELIEVER'S RIDDLE:

Or, The MYSTERY of FAITH.

THE PRE FACE,

Shewing the Use and Design of the Riddle.

READER, the following enigmatic Song

Does not to wifeft nat'ralifts belong:
Their wifdom is but folly on this head;
They here may ruminate, but cannot read.

For though they glance the words, the meaning chokes;

They read the lines, but not the paradox.

The fubject will, howe'er the phrase be blunt,
Their most acute intelligence furmount,

If with their nat'ral and acquired fight

They fhare not divine evangelic light.

Great wits may roufe their fancies, rack their brains,

And after all their labour lofe their pains:

Their wifeft comments were but witlefs chat,

Unapt to frame an explication pat.

No unregen'rate mortal's best engines

Can right unriddle these few rugged lines;

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