Lo, here comes one amain, he rides full speed, Hedge, ditch, nor miry bog, he doth not heed.

One claws it up-hill without stop or check, Another down as if he'd break his neck.

Now every horse has his especial guider; Then by his going you may know the rider.

Comparison.

Now let us turn our horse into a man, His rider to a spirit, if we can.

Then let us, by the methods of the guider, Tell every horse how he should know his rider.

Some go, as men, direct in a right way, Nor are they suffered to go astray; As with a bridle they are governed, And kept from paths which lead unto the dead.

Now this good man has his especial guider, Then by his going let him know his rider.

Some go as if they did not greatly care, Whether of heaven or h.e.l.l they should be heir.

The rein, it seems, is laid upon their neck, They seem to go their way without a check.

Now this man too has his especial guider, And by his going he may know his rider.

Some again run as if resolved to die, Body and soul, to all eternity.

Good counsel they by no means can abide; They'll have their course whatever them betide.

Now these poor men have their especial guider, Were they not fools they soon might know their rider.

There's one makes head against all G.o.dliness, Those too, that do profess it, he'll distress; He'll taunt and flout if goodness doth appear, And at its countenancers mock and jeer.

Now this man, too, has his especial guider, And by his going he might know his rider.

x.x.xVI.

UPON THE SIGHT OF A POUND OF CANDLES FALLING TO THE GROUND.

But be the candles down, and scattered too, Some lying here, some there? What shall we do?

Hold, light the candle there that stands on high, It you may find the other candles by.

Light that, I say, and so take up the pound You did let fall and scatter on the ground.

Comparison.

The fallen candles do us intimate The bulk of G.o.d's elect in their laps'd state; Their lying scattered in the dark may be To show, by man's lapsed state, his misery.

The candle that was taken down and lighted, Thereby to find them fallen and benighted, Is Jesus Christ; G.o.d, by his light, doth gather Who he will save, and be unto a Father.

x.x.xVII.

UPON A PENNY LOAF.

Thy price one penny is in time of plenty, In famine doubled, 'tis from one to twenty.

Yea, no man knows what price on thee to set When there is but one penny loaf to get.

Comparison.

This loaf's an emblem of the Word of G.o.d, A thing of low esteem before the rod Of famine smites the soul with fear of death, But then it is our all, our life, our breath.[36]

x.x.xVIII.

THE BOY AND WATCHMAKER.

This watch my father did on me bestow, A golden one it is, but 'twill not go, Unless it be at an uncertainty: But as good none as one to tell a lie.

When 'tis high day my hand will stand at nine; I think there's no man's watch so bad as mine.

Sometimes 'tis sullen, 'twill not go at all, And yet 'twas never broke nor had a fall.

Watchmaker.

Your watch, though it be good, through want of skill May fail to do according to your will.

Suppose the balance, wheels, and springs be good, And all things else, unless you understood To manage it, as watches ought to be, Your watch will still be at uncertainty.

Come, tell me, do you keep it from the dust, Yea, wind it also duly up you must?

Take heed, too, that you do not strain the spring; You must be circ.u.mspect in every thing, Or else your watch, were it as good again, Would not with time and tide you entertain.

Comparison.

This boy an emblem is of a convert, His watch of the work of grace within his heart, The watchmaker is Jesus Christ our Lord, His counsel, the directions of his Word; Then convert, if thy heart be out of frame, Of this watchmaker learn to mend the same.

Do not lay ope' thy heart to worldly dust, Nor let thy graces over-grow with rust, Be oft' renewed in the' spirit of thy mind, Or else uncertain thou thy watch wilt find.

x.x.xIX.

UPON A LOOKING-GLa.s.s.

In this see thou thy beauty, hast thou any, Or thy defects, should they be few or many.

Thou may'st, too, here thy spots and freckles see, Hast thou but eyes, and what their numbers be.

But art thou blind? There is no looking-gla.s.s Can show thee thy defects, thy spots, or face.

Comparison.

Unto this gla.s.s we may compare the Word, For that to man advantage doth afford (Has he a mind to know himself and state), To see what will be his eternal fate.

But without eyes, alas! how can he see?

Many that seem to look here, blind men be.

This is the reason they so often read Their judgment there, and do it nothing dread.

XL.

OF THE LOVE OF CHRIST.

The love of Christ, poor I! may touch upon; But 'tis unsearchable. O! there is none Its large dimensions can comprehend Should they dilate thereon world without end.

When we had sinned, in his zeal he sware, That he upon his back our sins would bear.

And since unto sin is entailed death, He vowed for our sins he'd lose his breath.

He did not only say, vow, or resolve, But to astonishment did so involve Himself in man's distress and misery, As for, and with him, both to live and die.

To his eternal fame in sacred story, We find that he did lay aside his glory, Stepped from the throne of highest dignity, Became poor man, did in a manger lie; Yea, was beholden unto his for bread, Had, of his own, not where to lay his head; Though rich, he did for us become thus poor, That he might make us rich for evermore.

Nor was this but the least of what he did, But the outside of what he suffered?

G.o.d made his blessed son under the law, Under the curse, which, like the lion's paw, Did rent and tear his soul for mankind's sin, More than if we for it in h.e.l.l had been.

His cries, his tears, and b.l.o.o.d.y agony, The nature of his death doth testify.

Nor did he of constraint himself thus give, For sin, to death, that man might with him live.

He did do what he did most willingly, He sung, and gave G.o.d thanks, that he must die.

But do kings use to die for captive slaves?

Yet we were such when Jesus died to save's.

Yea, when he made himself a sacrifice, It was that he might save his enemies.

And though he was provoked to retract His blest resolves for such so good an act, By the abusive carriages of those That did both him, his love, and grace oppose; Yet he, as unconcerned with such things, Goes on, determines to make captives kings; Yea, many of his murderers he takes Into his favour, and them princes makes.

XLI.

ON THE CACKLING OF A HEN.