John Bunyan: Verses about Power

O Wondrous dreamer, with thy power divine,
How all our pilgrim-life thy dream hath told
Our load of sin, our hopes, our doubts so cold,
The fearful battle with the foe malign;
And Beulah's beauteous land, where none repine
We long to see ; we dare with joy ' be bold,'
While we with thee in living faith behold
The New Jerusalem on high to shine.
When, as thy gaze beyond the gates did pass,
Which open'd wide to let thy pilgrims in,
And thou didst feast thine eyes, oft filled with tears,
Well may we feel that thou could'st wish, alas !
That thou had'st done with this world's care and sin,
To rest amid that throng for endless years.

Death, as a king rampant and stout
The world he dare engage;
He conquers all, yea, and doth rout
The great, strong, wise, and sage.

No king so great, nor prince so strong,
But death can make to yield,
Yea, bind and lay them all along,
And make them quit the field.

Where are the victors of the world,
With all their men of might?
Those that together kingdoms hurl'd,
By death are put to flight.

How feeble is the strongest hand,
When death begins to gripe!
The giant now leaves off to stand,
Much less withstand and fight.

The man that hath a lion's face
Must here give place and bend,
Yea, though his bones were bars of brass,
'Tis vain here to contend.

Submit he must to feeble ones,
To worms who will enclose
His skin and flesh, sinews and bones,
And will thereof dispose

Among themselves, as merchants do
The prizes they have got;
Or as the soldiers give unto
Each man the share and lot,

Which they by dint of sword have won,
From their most daring foe;
While he lies by as still as stone,
Not knowing what they do.

Beauty death turns to rottenness,
And youth to wrinkled face;
The witty he brings to distress,
And wantons to disgrace.

The wild he tames, and spoils the mirth
Of all that wanton are,
He takes the worldling from his worth,
And poor man from his care.

Death favours none, he lays at all,
Of all sorts and degree;
Both old and young, both great and small,
Rich, poor, and bound, and free.

No fawning words will flatter him,
Nor threat'nings make him start;
He favours none for worth or kin,
All must taste of his dart.

What shall I say? the graves declare
That death shall conquer all;
There lie the skulls, dust, bones, and there
The mighty daily fall.

The very looks of death are grim
And ghastly to behold;
Yea, though but in a dead man's skin,
When he is gone and cold.

How 'fraid are some of dead men's beds,
And others of their bones;
They neither care to see their heads,
Nor yet to hear their groans.

Now all these things are but the shade
And badges of his coat;[3]
The glass that runs, the scythe and spade,
Though weapons more remote:

Yet such as make poor mortals shrink
And fear, when they are told,
These things are signs that they must drink
With death; O then how cold.

It strikes them to the heart! how do
They study it to shun!
Indeed who can bear up, and who
Can from these shakings run?

But how much more then when he comes
To grapple with thy heart;
To bind with thread thy toes and thumbs,[4]
And fetch thee in his cart?

Then will he cut thy silver cord,
And break thy golden bowl;
Yea, break that pitcher which the Lord
Made cabin for thy soul.

Thine eyes, that now are quick of sight,
Shall then no way espy
How to escape this doleful plight,
For death will make thee die.

Those legs that now can nimbly run,
Shall then with faintness fail
To take one step, death's dart to shun,
When he doth thee assail.

That tongue that now can boast and brag
Shall then by death be tied
So fast, as not to speak or wag,
Though death lies by thy side.

Thou that didst once incline thine ear
Unto the song and tale,
Shall only now death's message hear,
While he, with face most pale,

Doth reason with thee how thy days
Hath hitherto been spent;
And what have been thy deeds and ways,
Since God thee time hath lent.

Then will he so begin to tear
Thy body from thy soul,
And both from life, if now thy care
Be not on grace to roll.

Death puts on things another face
Than we in health do see:
Sin, Satan, hell, death, life and grace
Now great and weighty be.

Yea, now the sick man's eye is set
Upon a world to come:
He also knows too without let[5]
That there must be his home.

Either in joy, in bliss and light,
Or sorrow, woe, and grief;
Either with Christ and saints in white,
Or fiends, without relief.

But, O! the sad estate that then
They will be in that die
Both void of grace and life! poor men!
How will they fear and cry.

Ha! live I may not, though I would
For life give more than all;
And die I dare not, though I should
The world gain by my fall.

No, here he must no longer stay,
He feels his life run out,
His night is come, also the day
That makes him fear and doubt.

He feels his very vitals die,
All waxeth pale and wan;
Nay, worse, he fears to misery
He shortly must be gone.

Death doth already strike his heart
With his most fearful sting
Of guilt, which makes his conscience start,
And quake at every thing.

Yea, as his body doth decay
By a contagious grief,
So his poor soul doth faint away
Without hope or relief.

Thus while the man is in this scare,
Death doth still at him lay;
Live, die, sink, swim, fall foul or fair,[6]
Death still holds on his way.

Still pulling of him from his place,
Full sore against his mind;
Death like a sprite stares in his face,
And doth with links him bind.

And carries him into his den,
In darkness there to lie,
Among the swarms of wicked men
In grief eternally.

For only he that God doth fear
Will now be counted wise:
Yea, he that feareth him while here,
He only wins the prize.

'Tis he that shall by angels be
Attended to that bliss
That angels have; for he, O he,
Of glory shall not miss.

Those weapons and those instruments
Of death, that others fright:
Those dreadful fears and discontents
That brings on some that night.

That never more shall have a day,
Brings this man to that rest
Which none can win but only they
Whom God hath called and blest

With the first fruits of saving grace,
With faith, hope, love, and fear
Him to offend; this man his face
In visions high and clear,

Shall in that light which no eye can
Approach unto, behold
The rays and beams of glory, and
Find there his name enroll'd,

Among those glittering starts of light
That Christ still holdeth fast
In his right hand with all his might,
Until that danger's past,

That shakes the world, and most hath dropt
Into grief and distress,
O blessed then is he that's wrapt
In Christ his righteousness.

This is the man death cannot kill,
For he hath put on arms;
Him sin nor Satan hath not skill
To hurt with all their charms.

A helmet on his head doth stand,
A breastplate on his heart:
A shield also is in his hand,
That blunteth every dart.

Truth girds him round the reins, also
His sword is on his thigh;
His feet in shoes of peace do go
The ways of purity.

His heart it groaneth to the Lord,
Who hears him at his call,
And doth him help and strength afford,
Wherewith he conquers all.

Thus fortified, he keeps the field
While death is gone and fled;
And then lies down upon his shield
Till Christ doth raise the dead.

Heaven is a place, also a state,
It doth all things excel,
No man can fully it relate,
Nor of its glory tell.

God made it for his residence,
To sit on as a throne,
Which shows to us the excellence
Whereby it may be known.

Doubtless the fabric that was built
For this so great a king,
Must needs surprise thee, if thou wilt
But duly mind the thing.

If all that build do build to suit
The glory of their state,
What orator, though most acute,
Can fully heaven relate?

If palaces that princes build,
Which yet are made of clay,
Do so amaze when much beheld,
Of heaven what shall we say?

It is the high and holy place;
No moth can there annoy,
Nor make to fade that goodly grace
That saints shall there enjoy.

Mansions for glory and for rest
Do there prepared stand;
Buildings eternal for the blest
Are there provided, and

The glory and the comeliness
By deepest thought none may
With heart or mouth fully express,
Nor can before that day.

These heav'ns we see, be as a scroll,
Or garment folded up,
Before they do together roll,
And we call'd in to sup.

There with the king, the bridegroom, and
By him are led into
His palace chambers, there to stand
With his prospect to our view.

And taste and smell, and be inflam'd,
And ravished to see
The buildings he hath for us fram'd,
How full of heaven they be.

Its state also is marvellous,
For beauty to behold;
All goodness there is plenteous,
And better far than gold.

Adorn'd with grace and righteousness,
While fragrant scents of love
O'erflow with everlasting bliss,
All that do dwell above.

The heavenly majesty, whose face
Doth far exceed the sun,
Will there cast forth its rays of grace
After this world is done.

Which rays and beams will so possess
All things that there shall dwell,
With so much glory, light, and bliss,
That none can think or tell.

That wisdom which doth order all
Shall there be fully shown;
That strength that bears the world there shall
By every one be known.

That holiness and sanctity
Which doth all thought surpass,
Shall there in present purity
Outshine the crystal glass.

The beauty and the comeliness
Of this Almighty shall
Make amiable with lasting bliss
Those he thereto shall call.

The presence of this God will be
Eternal life in all,
And health and gladness, while we see
Thy face, O immortal!

Here will the Lord make clear and plain
How sweetly did agree
His attributes, when Christ was slain
Our Saviour to be.

How wisdom did find out the way,
How strength did make him stand,
How holiness did bear the sway,
And answer just demand.

How all these attributes did bend
Themselves to work our life,
Through the Christ whom God did send
To save us by his might.

All this will sparkle in our eye
Within the holy place,
And greatly raise our melody,
And flow our hearts with grace.

The largest thought that can arise
Within the widest heart
Shall then be filled with surprize,
And pleas'd in every part.

All mysteries shall here be seen,
And every knot, unty'd;
Electing love, that hid hath been,
Shall shine on every side.

The God of glory here will be
The life of every one;
Whose goodly attributes shall we
Possess them as our own.

By wisdom we all things shall know,
By light all things shall see,
By strength, too, all things we shall do,
When we in glory be.

The Holy Lamb of God, also,
Who for our sakes did die,
The holy ones of God shall know,
And that most perfectly.

Those small and short discoveries
That we have of him here,
Will there be seen with open eyes,
In visions full and clear.

Those many thousand acts of grace
That here we feel and find,
Shall there be real with open face
Upon his heart most kind.

There he will show us how he was
Our prophet, priest, and king;
And how he did maintain our cause,
And us to glory bring.

There we shall see how he was touch'd
With all our grief and pain
(As in his word he hath avouch'd),
When we with him shall reign;

He'll show us, also, how he did
Maintain our faith and love,
And why his face sometimes he hid
From us, who are his dove;

These tempting times that here we have,
We there shall see were good;
Also that hidden strength he gave,
The purchase of his blood.

That he should stand for us before
His Father, thus we read.
But then shall see, and shall adore
Him for his gracious deed.

Though we are vile, he without shame
Before the angels all
Lays out his strength, his worth, and name,
For us, who are in thrall.

This is he who was mock'd and beat,
Spit on, and crown'd with thorns;
Who for us had a bloody sweat,
Whose heart was broke with scorns.

'Tis he who stands so much our friend,
As shortly we shall see,
With open face, world without end,
And in his presence be.

That head that once was crown'd with thorns,
Shall now with glory shine;
That heart that broken was with scorns,
Shall flow with life divine;

That man that here met with disgrace,
We there shall see so bright;
That angels can't behold his face
For its exceeding light.

What gladness will possess our heart
When we shall see these things!
What light and life, in every part,
Will rise like lasting springs!

O blessed face and holy grace,
When shall we see this day?
Lord, fetch us to this goodly place
We humbly do thee pray.

Next to this Lamb we shall behold
All saints, both more and less,
With whit'ned robes in glory roll'd,
'Cause him they did confess.

Each walking in his righteousness
With shining crowns of gold,
Triumphing still in heav'nly bliss,
Amazing to behold.

Each person for his majesty
Doth represent a king;
Yea, angel-like for dignity,
And seraphims that sing.

Each motion of their mind, and so
Each twinkling of their eye;
Each word they speak, and step they go,
It is in purity.

Immortal are they every one,
Wrapt up in health and light,
Mortality from them is gone,
Weakness is turn'd to might.

The stars are not so clear as they,
They equalize the sun;
Their glory shines to perfect day,
Which day will ne'er be done.

No sorrow can them now annoy,
Nor weakness, grief or pain;
No faintness can abate their joy,
They now in life do reign.

They shall not there, as here, be vex'd
With Satan, men, or sin;
Nor with their wicked hearts perplex'd,
The heavens have cop'd[8] them in.

Thus, as they shine in their estate,
So, too, in their degree;
Which is most goodly to relate,
And ravishing to see.

The majesty whom they adore,
Doth them in wisdom place
Upon the thrones, and that before
The angels, to their grace.

The saints of the Old Testament,
Full right to their degree;
Likewise the New, in excellent
Magnificency be.

Each one his badge of glory wears,
According to his place;
According as was his affairs
Here, in the time of grace.

Some on the right hand of the Lamb,
Likewise some on the left,
With robes and golden chains do stand
Most grave, most sage, and deft.[9]

The martyr here is known from him
Who peaceably did die,
Both by the place he sitteth in,
And by his dignity.

Each father, saint, and prophet shall,
According to his worth,
Enjoy the honour of his call,
And plainly hold it forth.

Those bodies which sometimes were torn,
And bones that broken were
For God's word; he doth now adorn
With health and glory fair.

Thus, when in heav'nly harmony
These blessed saints appear,
Adorn'd with grace and majesty,
What gladness will be there!

The light, and grace, and countenance,
The least of these shall have,
Will so with terror them advance,
And make their face so grave,

That at them all the world will shake,
When they lift up their head;
Princes and kings will at them quake,
And fall before them dead.

This shall we see, thus shall we be,
O would the day were come,
Lord Jesus take us up to thee,
To this desired home.

Angels also we shall behold,
When we on high ascend,
Each shining like to men of gold,
And on the Lord attend.

These goodly creatures, full of grace,
Shall stand about the throne,
Each one with lightning in his face,
And shall to us be known.

These cherubims with one accord
Shall cry continually,
Ah, holy, holy, holy, Lord,
And heavenly majesty.

These will us in their arms embrace,
And welcome us to rest,
And joy to see us clad with grace,
And of the heavens possess'd.

This we shall hear, this we shall see,
While raptures take us up,
When we with blessed Jesus be,
And at his table sup.

Oh shining angels! what, must we
With you lift up our voice?
We must; and with you ever be,
And with you must rejoice.

Our friends that lived godly here,
Shall there be found again;
The wife, the child, and father dear,
With others of our train.

Each one down to the foot in white,
Fill'd to the brim with grace,
Walking among the saints in light,
With glad and joyful face.

Those God did use us to convert,
We there with joy shall meet,
And jointly shall, with all our heart,
In life each other greet.

A crown to them we then shall be,
A glory and a joy;
And that before the Lord, when he
The world comes to destroy.

This is the place, this is the state,
Of all that fear the Lord;
Which men nor angels may relate
With tongue, or pen, or word.

No night is here, for to eclipse
Its spangling rays so bright;
Nor doubt, nor fear to shut the lips,
Of those within this light.

The strings of music here are tun'd
For heavenly harmony,
And every spirit here perfum'd
With perfect sanctity.

Here runs the crystal streams of life,
Quite through all our veins.
And here by love we do unite
With glory's golden chains.

Now that which sweet'neth all will be
The lasting of this state;
This heightens all we hear or see
To a transcendant rate.

For should the saints enjoy all this
But for a certain time,
O, how would they their mark then miss,
And at this thing repine?

Yea, 'tis not possible that they
Who then shall dwell on high,
Should be content, unless they may
Dwell there eternally.

A thought of parting with this place
Would bitter all their sweet,
And darkness put upon the face
Of all they there do meet.

But far from this the saints shall be,
Their portion is the Lord,
Whose face for ever they shall see,
As saith the holy word.

And that with everlasting peace,
Joy, and felicity,
From this time forth they shall increase
Unto eternity.

esides what I said of the Four Last Things,
And of the weal and woe that from them springs;

An after-word still runneth in my mind,
Which I shall here expose unto that wind

That may it blow into that very hand
That needs it. Also that it may be scann'd

With greatest soberness, shall be my prayer,
As well as diligence and godly care;

So to present it unto public view,
That only truth and peace may thence ensue.

My talk shall be of that amazing love
Of God we read of; which, that it may prove,

By its engaging arguments to save
Thee, I shall lay out that poor help I have

Thee to entice; that thou wouldst dearly fall
In love with thy salvation, and with all

That doth thereto concur, that thou mayst be
As blessed as the Blessed can make thee,

Not only here but in the world to come,
In bliss, which, I pray God, may be thy home.

But first, I would advise thee to bethink
Thyself, how sin hath laid thee at the brink

Of hell, where thou art lulled fast asleep
In Satan's arms, who also will thee keep

As senseless and secure as e'er he may,
Lest thou shouldst wake, and see't, and run away

Unto that Jesus, whom the Father sent
Into the world, for this cause and intent,

That such as thou, from such a thrall as this
Might'st be released, and made heir of bliss.

Now that thou may'st awake, the danger fly,
And so escape the death that others die,

Come, let me set my trumpet to thine ear,
Be willing all my message for to hear:

'Tis for thy life, O do it not refuse;
Wo unto them good counsel do abuse.

Thou art at present in that very case,
Which argues thou art destitute of grace:

For he that lies where sin hath laid him, lies
Under the curse, graceless, and so he dies

In body and in soul, within that range,
If God his heart in mercy doth not change

Before he goes the way of all the earth,
Before he lose his spirit and his breath.

Repentance there is none within the grave,
Nor Christ, nor grace, nor mercies for to save

Thee from the vengeance due unto thy sin,
If now thou dost not truly close with him.

Thou art like him that sleepeth in the sea
On broken boards, which, without guide or stay,

Are driven whither winds and water will;
While greedy beasts do wait to have their fill

By feeding on his carcass, when he shall
Turn overboard, and without mercy fall

Into the jaws of such as make a prey
Of those whom justice drowneth in the sea.

Thou art like him that snoring still doth lie
Upon the bed of vain security,

Whilst all about him into burning flame
By fire is turned; yea, and while the frame

And building where he lies consuming is,
And while himself these burnings cannot miss.

Thou art like one that hangeth by a thread
Over the mouth of hell, as one half-dead;

And O, how soon this thread may broken be,
Or cut by death, is yet unknown to thee!

But sure it is, if all the weight of sin,
And all that Satan, too, hath doing been,

Or yet can do, can break this crazy thread,
'Twill not be long before, among the dead,

Thou tumble do, as linked fast in chains,
With them to wait in fear for future pains.

What shall I say? Wilt thou not yet awake?
Nor yet of thy poor soul some pity take?

Among the lions it hood-winked lies;
O, that the Lord would open once thine eyes

That thou might'st see it, then I dare say thou,
As half-bereft of wits, wouldst cry out, How

Shall I escape? Lord help, O! help with speed,
Reach down thy hand from heav'n, for help I need,

To save me from the lions, for I fear
This soul of mine they will in pieces tear.

Come, then, and let us both expostulate
The case betwixt us, till we animate

And kindle in our hearts that burning love
To Christ, to grace, to life, that we may move

Swifter than eagles to this blessed prey;
Then shall it be well with us in that day

The trump shall sound, the dead made rise, and stand,
Then to receive, for breach of God's command,

Such thunder-claps as these, Depart from me
Into hell-fire, you that the wicked be,

Prepared for the devil, and for those
That with him and his angels rather chose

To live in filthy sin and wickedness,
Whose fruit is everlasting bitterness.

We both are yet on this side of the grave,
We also gospel-privileges have;

The word, and time to pray; God give us hearts,
That, like the wise man, we may act our parts,

To get the pearl of price; then we shall be
Like godly Mary, Peter, Paul, and we

Like Jacob, too, the blessing shall obtain;
While Esau rides a-hunting for the gain

Of worldly pelf, which will him not avail
When death or judgment shall him sore assail.

Now, to encourage us for to begin,
Let us believe the kingdom we may win,

And be possess'd thereof, if we the way
Shall hit into, and then let nothing stay

Or hinder us; the crown is at the end,
Let's run and strive, and fly, and let's contend

With greatest courage it for to obtain;
'Tis life, and peace, and everlasting gain.

The gate of life, the new and living way,
The promise holdeth open all the day,

Which thou by Jacob's ladder must ascend,
Where angels always wait, and do attend

As ministers, to minister for those
That do with God, and Christ, and glory close.

If guilt of sin still lieth at our door,
Us to discourage, let us set before

Our eyes a bleeding Jesus, who did die
The death, and let's believe the reason why

He did it, was that we might ever be
From death and sin, from hell and wrath set free.

Yea, let's remember for that very end
It was his blessed Father did him send;

That he the law of God might here fulfil,
That so the mystery of his blessed will

Might be revealed in the blessedness
Of those that fly to Christ for righteousness.

Now let us argue with ourselves, then, thus
That Jesus Christ our Lord came to save us,

By bearing of our sins upon his back,
By hanging on the cross as on a rack,

While justice cut him off on every side,
While smiles Divine themselves from him did hide,

While earth did quake, and rocks in pieces rent,
And while the sun, as veiled, did lament

To see the innocent and harmless die
So sore a death, so full of misery.

Yea, let us turn again, and say, All this
He did and suffered for love of his.

He brought in everlasting righteousness,
That he might cover all our nakedness;

He wept and wash'd his face with brinish tears
That we might saved be from hellish fears;

Blood was his sweat, too, in his agony,
That we might live in joyful ecstasy;

He apprehended was and led away,
That grace to us-ward never might decay.

With swords, and bills, and outrage in the night,
That to the peace of heav'n we might have right.

Condemned he was between two thieves to die,
That we might ever in his bosom lie;

Scourged with whips his precious body were,
That we lashes of conscience might not fear;

His head was crowned with thorns, that we might be
Crowned with glory and felicity;

He hanged was upon a cursed tree,
That we delivered from death might be;

His Father from him hides his smiles and face,
That we might have them in the heavenly place;

He cry'd, My God, why hast forsaken me?
That we forsaken of him might not be.

Into his side was thrust a bloody spear,
That we the sting of death might never fear;

He went into the grave after all this,
That we might up to heav'n go, and have bliss.

Yea, rise again he did out of the earth,
And shook off from him all the chains of death;

Then at his chariot wheels he captive led
His foes, and trod upon the serpent's head;

Riding in triumph to his Father's throne,
There to possess the kingdom as his own.

What say'st thou, wilt not yet unto him come?
His arms are open, in his heart is room

To lay thee; be not then discouraged,
Although thy sins be many, great, and red;

Unto thee righteousness he will impute,
And with the kisses of his mouth salute

Thy drooping soul, and will it so uphold,
As that thy shaking conscience shall be bold

To come to mercy's seat with great access,
There to expostulate with that justice

That burns like fiery flames against all those
That do not with this blessed Jesus close;

Which unto thee will do no harm, but good,
Because thou hast reliance on that blood

That justice saith hath given him content,
For all that do unfeignedly repent

Their ill-spent life, and roll upon free grace,
That they within that bosom might have place,

That open is to such, where they shall lie
In ease, and gladness, and felicity,

World without end, according to that state
I have, nay, better than I, can relate.

If thou shalt still object, thou yet art vile,
And hast a heart that will not reconcile

Unto the holy law, but will rebel,
Hark yet to what I shall thee farther tell.

Two things are yet behind that help thee will,
If God should put into thy mind that skill,

So to improve them as becometh those
That would with mercy and forgiveness close.

First, then, let this sink down into thy heart,
That Christ is not a Saviour in part,

But every way so fully he is made
That all of those that underneath his shade

And wing would sit, and shroud their weary soul,
That even Moses dare it not control,

But justify it, approve of 't, and conclude
No man nor angel must himself intrude

With such doctrine that may oppose the same,
On pain of blaspheming that holy name,

Which God himself hath given unto men,
To stay, to trust, to lean themselves on, when

They feel themselves assaulted, and made fear
Their sin will not let them in life appear.

For as God made him perfect righteousness,
That he his love might to the height express,

And us present complete before the throne;
Sanctification, too, of his own

He hath prepared, in which do we stand,
Complete in holiness, at his right hand.

Now this sanctification is not
That holiness which is in us, but that

Which in the person of this Jesus is,
And can inherently be only his.

But is imputed to us for our good.
As is his active righteousness and blood;

Which is the cause, though we infirm are found,
That mercy and forgiveness doth abound

To us-ward, and that why we are not shent[1]
And empty, and away rebuked sent,

Because that all we do imperfect is.
Bless God, then, for this holiness of his,

And learn to look by faith on that alone,
When thou seest thou hast nothing of thine own;

Yea, when thy heart most willing is to do
What God by his good word doth call thee to;

And when thou find'st most holiness within,
And greatest power over every sin,

Yet then to Jesus look, and thou shalt see
In him sanctification for thee,

Far more complete than all that thou canst find
In the most upright heart and willing mind,

That ever man or angels did possess,
When most filled with inherent righteousness.

Besides, if thou forgettest here to live,
And Satan get thee once into his sieve,

He will so hide thy wheat, and show thy brun[2]
That thou wilt quickly cry, I am undone.

Alas, thy goodliest attainments here,
Though like the fairest blossoms they appear,

How quickly will they lour and decay,
And be as if they all were fled away,

When once the east-wind of temptations beat
Upon thee, with their dry and blasting heat!

Rich men will not account their treasure lies
In crack'd groats and four-pence half-pennies,[3]

But in those bags they have within their chests,
In staple goods, which shall within their breasts

Have place accordingly, because they see
Their substance lieth here. But if that be

But shaken, then they quickly fear, and cry,
Alas, 'tis not this small and odd money,

We carry in our pockets for to spend,
Will make us rich, or much will stand our friend.

If famine or if want do us assail,
How quickly will these little pieces fail!

If thou be wise, consider what I say
And look for all in Christ, where no decay

Is like to be; then though thy present frame
Be much in up-and-down, yet he the same

Abideth, yea, and still at God's right hand,
As thy most perfect holiness will stand.

It is, I say, not like to that in thee,
Now high, then low, now out, then in, but he

Most perfect is, when thou art at the worst
The same, the very same; I said at first,

This helpeth much when thou art buffeted,
And when thy graces lie in thee as dead;

Then to believe they are all perfect still
In Christ thy head, who hath that blessed skill,

Yet to present thee by what is in him
Unto his Father, one that hath no sin.

Yea, this will fill thy mouth with argument
Against the tempter, when he shall present

Before thee all thy weakness, and shall hide
From thee thy graces, that thou mayst abide

Under the fretting fumes of unbelief,
Which never yielded Christian man relief.

Nor help thyself thou mayst against him thus:
O Satan, though my heart indeed be worse

Than 'twas a while ago, yet I perceive
Thou shalt me not of happiness bereave,

Nor yet of holiness; for by the Word
I find that Jesus Christ, our blessed Lord,

Is made sanctification for me
In his own person, where all graces be,

As water in the fountain; and that I,
By means of that, have yet a sanctity,

Both personal and perfect every way;
And that is Christ himself, as Paul doth say.

Now, though my crazy pitcher oft doth leak,
By means of which my graces are so weak,

And so much spent, that one I cannot find
Able to stay or help my feeble mind;

Yet then I look to Jesus, and see all
In him that wanting is in me, and shall

Again take courage, and believe he will
Present me upright in his person, till

He humble me for all my foolishness,
And then again fill me with holiness.

Now, if thou lovest inward sanctity,
As all the saints do most unfeignedly,

Then add, to what I have already said,
Faith in the promise; and be not afraid

To urge it often at the throne of grace,
And to expect it in its time and place.

Then he that true is, and that cannot lie,
Will give it unto thee, that thou thereby

Mayst serve with faith, with fear, in truth and love,
That God that did at first thy spirit move

To ask it to his praise, that he might be
Thy God, and that he might delight in thee.

If I should here particulars relate,
Methinks it could not but much animate

Thy heart, though very listless to inquire
How thou mayst that enjoy, which all desire

That love themselves and future happiness;
But O, I cannot fully it express:

The promise is so open and so free,
In all respects, to those that humble be,

That want they cannot what for them is good;
But there 'tis, and confirmed is with blood,

A certain sign, all those enjoy it may,
That see they want it, and sincerely pray

To God the Father, in that Jesus' name
Who bled on purpose to confirm the same.