And though new debt thou ftill contract,
And run in deep arrears;

Yet all thy burdens on his back
Thy Husband always bears.

Thy Judge will ne'er demand of thee
Two payments for one debt;
"Thee with one victim wholly free
Thy Husband kindly fet.

That no grim vengeance might thee meet,
Thy Husband met with all;
And, that thy foul may drink the fweet,
Thy Husband drank the gall.

Full breafts of joy he loves t' extend,
Like to a kindly nurse;

And, that thy blifs might full be gain'd,
Thy Husband was a curfe.

Thy fins he glu'd unto the tree,
His blood this virtue hath ;
For, that thy heart to fin might die,
Thy Husband fuffered death.

To purchase fully all thy good,
All evil him befel;

To win thy heaven, with ftreams of blood,
Thy Husband quenched hell.

That this kind DAYS-MAN in one band

Might God and man betroth,

He on both parties lays his hand,

Thy Husband pleases both.

The blood that could ftern juftice please, And law demands fulfil,

Can alfo guilty conscience ease

Thy Husband clears the bill.

Thy highest glory is obtain'd

By his abasement deep;

And that thy tears might all be drain'd, Thy Husband chose to weep.

K

His bondage all thy freedom bought,
He stoop'd fo lowly down;

His grappling all thy grandeur brought,
Thy Husband's crofs thy crown.

"Tis by his fhock thy fceptre fways,
His warfare ends thy ftrife;
His poverty thy wealth conveys,
Thy Husband's death thy life.
Do mortal damps invade thy heart,
And deadness feize thee fore ;
Rejoice in this, that life t' impart
Thy Husband has in store.

And when new life imparted feems
Establish'd as a rock;

Boast in the fountain, not the streams;
Thy Husband is thy ftock.

The ftreams may take a various turn,
The fountain never moves:

Cease then, o'er failing ftreams to mourn,
Thy Husband thus thee proves.

That glad thou may'st, when drops are gone,
Joy in the fpacious fea:

When incomes fail, then still upon

Thy Husband keep thine eye.

But can't thou look, nor moan thy ftrait,

So dark's the difmal hour?

Yet, as thou'rt able, cry and wait

Thy Husband's day of power.

Tell him, though fin prolong the term,

Yet love can fcarce delay:

Thy want, his promife, all affirm,

Thy Husband must not stay.

SECT. VIII. Chrift the Believer's enriching Treafure.

KIND Jefus lives, thy life to be,

Who makeft him thy refuge;

And, when he comes, thou'lt joy to fee
Thy Husband fhall be judge.

Should paffing troubles thee annoy,
Without, within, or both:

Since endless life thou'lt then enjoy,
Thy Husband pledg'd his troth.
What won't he, even in time, impart
That's for thy real good?

He gave his love, he gave his heart,
Thy Husband gave his blood.

He gives himself, and what should more?
What can he then refufe?

If this won't please thee, ah! how fore
Thy Husband dost abuse!

Earth's fruit, heav'n's dew he won't deny,
Whose eyes thy need behold:
Nought under or above the sky
Thy husband will withhold.

Do loffes grieve? Since all is thine,
What lofs can thee befal?
All things for good to thee combine,*

Thy Hufband orders all.

Thou'rt not put off with barren leaves,
Or dung of earthly pelf;

More wealth than heav'n and earth he gives,
Thy Hufband's thine himfelf.

Thou haft enough to ftay thy plaint,
Elfe thou complain'ft of eafe;
For, having all, don't speak of want,
Thy Hufband may fuffice.

From this thy ftore, believing, take
Wealth to the utmost pitch:
The gold of Ophir cannot make,
Thy Husband makes thee rich.

* Rom. viii. 28.

Some flying gains acquire by pains,
And fome by plund'ring toil;
Such treafure fades, but thine remains,
Thy Husband's cannot spoil.

SECT. IX. Chrift the Believer's adorning Garment.

YEA, thou excell'ft in rich attire
The lamp that lights the globe;
Thy fparkling garment heav'ns admire,
Thy Hufband is thy robe.

This raiment never waxeth old,
'Tis always new and clean;
From fummer heat, and winter cold,
Thy Husband can thee fcreen.

All who the name of worthies bore,
Since Adam was undreft,

No worth acquir'd, but as they wore
Thy Hufband's purple vest.

This linen fine can beautify
The foul with fin begirt;

O blefs his name that e'er on thee
Thy Hufband fpread his fkirt.

Are dunghills deck'd with flowery glore,
Which Solomon's outvie?

Sure thine is infinitely more,

Thy Husband decks the sky.

Thy hands could never work the dress,
By grace alone thour't gay;

Grace vents and reigns through righteousness,
Thy Husband's bright array.

To fpin thy robe no more doft need

Than lillies toil for theirs ;

Out of his bowels every thread

Thy Husband thine prepares.

SECT. X. Chrift the Believer's sweet Nourishment.

THY food, conform to thine array,

Is heav'nly and divine;

On paftures green, where angels play,
Thy husband feeds thee fine.

Angelic food may make thee fair,
And look with cheerful face;
The bread of life, the double share,
Thy Husband's love and grace.
What can he give or thou defire,
More than his flesh and blood?
Let angels wonder, faints admire,
Thy Husband is thy food.

His flesh the incarnation bears
From whence thy feeding flows;
His blood the fatisfaction clears
Thy Husband both bestows.
Th' incarnate God a facrifice
To turn the wrathful tide,
Is food for faith: that may fuffice
Thy Husband's guilty bride.

This ftrength'ning food may fit and fence
For work and war to come;

Till through the cloud, fome moments hence,
Thy Husband bring thee home.

Where plenteous feafting will fucceed

To fcanty feeding here:

And joyful at the table head

Thy Husband fair appear.

The crumbs to banquets will give place
And drops to rivers new:

While heart and eye will face to face
Thy Husband ever view.