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Poems

The Glory Of And Grace In The Church Set Out

Come now behold
Within this Knot What Flowers do grow:
Spangled like gold:
Whence Wreaths of all Perfumes do flow.
Most Curious Colours of all sorts you shall
With all Sweet Spirits s[c]ent. Yet that’s not all.

Oh! Look, and finde
These Choicest Flowers most richly sweet
Are Disciplinde
With Artificiall Angells meet.
And heap of Pearls is precious: but they shall
When set by Art Excell: Yet that’s not all.

Christ’s Spirit showers
Down in his Word, and Sacraments
Upon these Flowers
The Clouds of Grace Divine Contents.
Such things of Wealthy Blessings on them fall
As make them sweetly thrive: Yet that’s not all.

Yet Still behold!
All flourish not at once. We see
While some Unfold
Their blushing Leaves, some buds there bee.
Here’s Faith, Hope, Charity in flower, which call
On yonders in the Bud. Yet that’s not all.

But as they stand
Like Beauties reeching in perfume
A Divine Hand
Doth hand them up to Glories room:
Where Each in sweet’ned Songs all Praises shall
Sing all ore Heaven for aye. And that’s but all.

1682

 

l. 2: Knot; flowerbed
l. 6: sent; scent
l. 9: Disciplinde; disciplined
l. 26: reeching (reeking); strongly smelling
l. 30: for aye; forever