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52 That pride which tumbled Satan down From glory and from bliss,

Wou'd with him surely plunge thee too
In the same dark abyss.

53 Yield not to that too cunning fool,
Who down from glory fell;

And tho' in darkness, chains, and fire,
Is proud to reign in hell.

54 By which his fall, and murdering me,
This wretch became the tool
Of his own pride, and prov'd himself.
The first and greatest fool.

55 Altho' to me, who died for thee,
Thy senseless heart should cool;
Can thy indignant spirit stoop
The fool of such a fool?

56 The bait he throws full in thy sight,
Is pleasure, wealth, parade ;
But gilded vapours these! how soon
From thy embrace they fade!

57 Too wise the bird, that sees the net
Spread for his life, to stay;

If not more foolish thou, from snares
Set for thy soul, away.

58 One master only thou canst serve,
One only of the two ;

Or him, who kindly means to save,
Or him, who wou'd undo.

59 With ease and safety I am serv'd,
And honour crowns my work ;

Beneath his pleasures, fear, and shame,
Remorse, and anguish lurk.

60 Fear him, who justly can condemn
To everlasting woe;

Love him, who can, and will redeem
From fiends and fire below.

61 If me you either fear or love,
All my commands fulfil;
However, when in this you fail,
Will then, at least, my will.

62 Consort not with thy deadly foe,
That foe, who only means

To make the partner of his crimes,
Th' associate of his chains.
63 Remember well thy solemn vow
To me, thy Saviour, given;
Adhere to that, and now resume
My upward way to heaven.

64 Eternal flames, immortal soul,
I set before thy eyes;

He who in wisdom flies from sin,
These flames eternal flies.

65 Eternal joys, immortal soul,
I offer to thy choice;

If'tis thy wisdom these to choose,
In these shalt thou rejoice.

66 To be as great as thou wert once,
Thou must be greater still;

To rule this world is not so great,
As to subdue thy will.

67 But to be great, thou must be good,
And better than before;
A conqueror of thyself, indeed
Must be, and somewhat more.

68 This glorious conquest to achieve,
Thou must implore my aid;

A mortal, made or good or great,
By me alone is made.

69 All powers above, and there below,
To me by gift belong;

Without me none is wise or good;
Without me none is strong.

70 Vain of thy wisdom, as profound,

Thou soon shalt judge from hence,
Whether that wisdom, as it's best,
Amounts to common sense.

71 Canst thou distinguish good from ill, And to the first adhere,

Rejecting with disdain the last,

Tho' sometimes looking fair?

72 Canst thou to thy known happiness
A steady choice affix,

And ne'er desire that happiness
With misery to mix.

73 Canst thou the best of friends embrace,
The worst of foes detest,

When thou the worst can well discern
From him who is the best?

74 But if thy vaunted wisdom fails
In trials such as these,

Go learn a little judgment, man,
From beavers or from bees.

75 Or rather, as an ox or ass
My prophet bids thee go

These teachers I too recommend
To faculties so low.

76 If thou thy greatest good, well known,
Shouldst wilfully refuse ;

And open-eyed, thy greatest ill
Shouldst obstinately choose;

77 Instead of me, if thou for guide
To happiness, should take,
To gratify thy pride and lust,
Eve's counsellor, the snake;

78 If such the wisdom of thy head,
And goodness of thy heart,
In wisdom, goodness, or in me,
As yet thou hast no part.

79 What drew me from the throne above,
Down to th' accursed tree,

If thou shalt ask, ungrateful man,
It was my love for thee.

80 What! now again thy hammer raise !
What! whet anew thy spikes!

Thy sin thro' me, thou must believe,
Thy pointed iron strikes.

81 If thou by faith even yet in me
A member art indeed,

Thy crime that wounds me, wounds thyself,
And both together bleed.

32 What! thou a Christian, and conspire
To propagate the shame

Of Christ among the Infidels,

And teach them to blaspheme!

83 With hell's foul monster, O thou fool,
Thy heart I will not share;

The whole I purchas'd; to my foe
No part whereof I spare.

84 Be wholly mine, or wholly his,
Or up or down to go.
To climb to everlasting joys,
Or sink to endless woe.

85 My patience, too much tir'd by crimes,
By insults heretofore,

Thou brother of the worm, beware ;
Provoke not boundless power.

86 Provoke not justice; in my hand
The sleeping thunder lies;
Which instant, if awak'd by sin,
In dreadful vengeance flies.

87 But yet awake; return to me,
And to my blood repair

With faith and grief I shall relent,
If both are found sincere.

88 To each transgressor, who his sins
Sincerely shall bewail,

A full forgiveness I shall grant,
And add my crimson seal.

89 In me direct thy steps, and thou
Thy way shall never miss;

I am the truth, the life, the way
To God and endless bliss.

90 Arm, arm, and watch,-lo, this my hand
Shall thy opposers quell,
Shall mortify thy lusts, and crush
The powers of earth and hell.

91 I say to death, Where is thy sting?
Where is thy conquest, grave?
O'er both I triumph, so shalt thou,
Who kills, whom I will save.

VOL. VI.

92 Return to me in faith and tears,
Thou late to sin a slave,

And thou shalt pardon, freedom, peace,
With boundless joy receive.

93 Then thou, once much lamented piece,
So sought, and hardly found,

Stampt with God's name anew in heaven,
Shall circulate around.

94 What a new glow of gratitude
Shall then itself impart,
In feelings of victorious love,
To thy transported heart!

95 Welcome, thrice welcome, shall resound
From all about the throne,
Whose loud Hosannahs shall proclaim
Thy raptures, and their own.

96 My heart, O Saviour, hears thy words;
To thee I lift my eyes;

Now deaf and blind to other things,
Thy eager convert cries.

97 Thou hast not at the trifling price
Of perishable toys,

For me this wondrous glory bought,
These everlasting joys.

98 No Jesus, 'twas thy blood which snatch'd
My soul from sin and flames;
And added mine to this bright list
Of thy victorious names.

99 To me thy goodness thou hast given,
And ta'en to thee my guilt;
That I might endless life enjoy,
Thy precious blood was spilt.

100 Could nothing less my health restore?
Nor less my life ensure?

Ah, bitter health! Ah, woful life!
What horror in my cure!

101 Its eye on heaven, even thus obtain❜d,
This grateful horror turns;

And on thy cross my altar laid,

In love and anguish burns.

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