English

the soull expostulating with it self for its restlese, impatient desires to be gone, revived by mrs Sl- death, July 6 72

What dost thou ayl, my soull, what dost thou ayl
Why thus impatient, cause within the vaill
Others are taken, and thou left behind
wilt thou therfore, conclude, Christ is unkinnd
Because thou art not taken yet so neer
To him, as others of his Children deer
Whom he has cald from sin, and misery
Have to himself, in his arms for to ly
May he not what he please, do with his own

The soull expostulating with god, upon perticular occations, & sad aprehandtions.

Wilt thou lay the foundation
of a sweet and glorious structure Lord
And not put on, the topmost stone
acording, to thy faithfull word.

Ar not thy gifts, & calling said
without repentence, for to be
Shall not thy word then good be made
Whatever thou in us, maist see.

Wilt thou bring any soull neer to
thy self, & throw it off, again
Wilt thou thyne own work thus undoe
because of sin, which doth remain.

the soull from a sence of its unworthynese of the least mercy expostulateth with it self, for it discontent; because it has not greater mercys, yet gathers suport from the freenese of gods grace.

How darest thou my soull, thus to
aspire on high, & think
That god should great things, for thee doe
and to himself, thee link.

With shame, my soull, doe but look down
Upon thy guiltinese
Thou art unworthy, of his frown
much more, of neer accese.

The crumbs that from his table fall
thou art unworthy of

Infinet love of Christ

What love is this, that bouled in
The breast of our sweet, sacred king.

From ages of eternity
He did resovle, to come, and dye.

That he might fallen man regain
And bring him back, with him to reign.

Oh how this love should make us blush
Thou hadst (deer Lord) no need of us.

To thine esencyall glory we
Could adde nothing, at all to thee.

thou couldst in thine alfullnese dwell
had we been, in the lowest hell.

Christ only excelent, only desirable.

The Sun, & moon ar glorious
Which in the heavens, run their course
but whats this to compare
With one bright ray
which doth display
It self from Christ, the heir.

The heir of all things, & the sun
Whose beames of glory, still doe run
Through the creation
Warming the hart,
filling each part
Of'th heirs of sallvation.

This glorious, sublunary world
When it is bravly deck'd and curl'd
Compared with this face
tis to the eye

Experience working in — soull encouragment (to hope & wait for greater mercys) and thankfullnese.

In my distresse, to thee I cry'd
and made my wofull moane
Then comfort to me was aply'd
thou heardst me, from thy throne.

My spirits were in me confus'd
my hart, strangly opprest
My soull was in me sore amus'd
but thou, hast me refresh'd.

Thy love in question, I did call
I said thou wouldst not hear
My spirits they did sink, and fall
my sins, did make me fear.

Thou didst give unbeleif the ly

June 28 '72

Thy ways, ar ways, of pleasentnese
And all thy paithes, ar peace to me
This I must say, and will confese
Oh what will glorious heaven bee.

When somtimes, I can get to this
To have but only some dark sights
Of heavens future joy, & blise
And thesse angellicall delights.

How can I trample, with contempt
Upon the world, as vanity
From this I would, not be exempt
For all its spleanded, braviry.

Such reall, true, gainfull, commerse

Apon this question how doe, you doe.

Who can be well
Whilst here they dwell
In an imperfect. sinfull, stat
Stilling, bowing down under the weight
Of Sin, which dwells within
And ther doth sprout, & spring

It cannot be
heare, well with me
Whilst I am absent from my king
My joy, my comfort, & my spring
and fountain of delight
to whom I'de take my flight

I cannot say, / I'me well one day
Because I am imprisoned
And in times net entangled
So that I cannot fly

from thosse words in luke 2 7 & laid him in a manager because there was no room for him in the inne

How strange this word, sounds in my ears
(ther was no room for him)
Who was above created peers
but in a sorry Inne

Nay worse then this, was yet his doom
Ther's no room in the Inne
But in the stable, was his room
though Zions crowned king

He did att first. the world creat
yet in it could not find
A room, to Lodg his weary head
t'was soe hard, and unkind

He who commands both sea, and land

Motives to quiken the soul to diligence, June 26

Let not thy sloth, thy hopes defeat
Shall any labour, seem to great
To win, to the imperiall seat
where god immense,
Keeps residence.

Is not the beauty of thy king
Enough, to set thy soull on wing
And make it always, to him spring
who is alone, thy only one

Is not the blessed three in one
Enough to make thee swiftly run
That thou mayst feast thyne eyes upon
that mistery
the trinity

How canst thou chouse, but long to fly