« SebelumnyaLanjutkan »
And greater honour to the law does fhare,
Than boasters all that breathe the vital air.
E'en heathen morals vaftly may outfhine.
The works that flow not from a faith divine.
Pretenfions high to faith a number have,
But, ah! it is a faith that cannot fave:
"We trust, say they, in Chrift, we hope in God;"
Nor blush to blaze their rotten faith abroad.
Nor, try the truft of which they make a fhew,
If of a faving or a damning hue.
They own their fins are ill; true, but, 'tis fad,
They never thought their faith and hope were bad.
How evident's their home-bred nat'ral blaze,
Who dream they have believ'd well all their days;
Yet never felt their unbelief, nor knew
The need of pow'r their natures to renew ?
Blind fouls that boast of faith, yet live in fin,
May hence conclude their faith is to begin;
Or know they fhall, by fuch an airy faith,
Believe themselves to everlafting wrath.
Faith that nor leads to good, nor keeps from ill,
Will never lead to heav'n, nor keep from hell.
The body without breath is dead no lefs *: no lefs
Is faith without the works of holiness †.
How rare is faving faith, when earth is cramm'd
With fuch as will believe, and yet be damn'd;
Believe the gofpel, yet with dread and awe
Have never truly yet believ'd the law?
That matter fhall be well, they hope too foon,
Who never yet have feen themselves undone.
Can of falvation their belief be true,
Who never yet believ'd damnation due?
Can thefe of endless life have folid faith,
Who never fear'd law-threats of endless death?
Nay, fail'd they ha'nt yet to the healing fhore,
Who never felt their finful woful fore.
Imaginary faith is but a blind,
That bears no fruit, but of a deadly kind;
Nor can from fuch a wild, unwhole fome root
The leaft production raife of living fruit.
But faving faith can fuch an offspring breed,
Her native product is a holy feed.
The fairest iffues of the vital breath
Spring from the fertile womb of heav'n-born faith;
Yet boasts fhe nothing of her own, but brings
Auxiliaries from the King of kings,
Who graves his royal law in rocky hearts,
And gracious aid in foftning fhow'rs imparts:
This gives prolific virtue to the faith,
Infpir'd at first by his almighty breath.
Hence, fetching all her fuccours from abroad,
She ftill employs this mighty pow'r of God.
Drain'd clean of native pow'rs and legal aims,
No ftrength but in and from JEHOVAH claims.
And thus her fervice to the law o'ertops
The tow'ring zeal of Pharifaic fops.
The Believer only, being married to Chrift, is juftified and fanctified; and the more gospel-freedom from the law as a covenant, the more boly conformity to it as a
THUS doth the Hufband by his Father's will
Both for and in his bride the law fulfil:
For her, as 'tis a covenant; and then
In her, as 'tis a rule of life to men.
Firft all law-debt he most completely pays;
Then of law-duties all the charge defrays.
Does first affume her guilt, and loose her chains;
And then with living water wash her ftains:
Her fund restore, and then her form repair,
And make his filthy bride a beauty fair;
His perfect righteousness moft freely grant,
And then his holy image deep implant;
Into her heart his precious feed indrop,
Which, in his time, will yield a glorious crop.
But by alternate turns his plants he brings
Thro' robbing winters and repairing fprings.
Hence, pining oft, they fuffer fad decays,
By dint of fhady nights and flormy days.
But bleft with fap, and influence from above,
They live and grow anew in faith and love;
Until transplanted to the higher foil,
Where furies tread no more, nor foxes fpoil.
While Chrift, the living root remains on high,
The noble plant of grace can never die :
Nature decays, and fo will all the fruit,
That merely rifes on a mortal roct.
Their works, however fplendid, are but dead,
That from a living fountain don't proceed;
Their faireft fruit is but a garnish'd shrine,
That are not grafted in the glorious vine.
Devouteft hypocrites are rank'd in rolls
Of painted puppets, not of living fouls.
No offspring but of Chrift's fair bride is good,
This happy marriage has a holy brood.
Let finners learn this mystery to read,
We bear to glorious Chrift no precious feed,
Till, thro' the law, we to the law be dead. *.
No true obedience to the law, but forc'd,
Can any yield, 'till from the law divorc'd.
Nor to it as a rule, is homage giv'n,
Till from it, as a cov'nant, men be driv'n.
Yea more, till once they this divorce attain,
Divorce from fin they but attempt in vain;
The curfed yoke of fin they bafely draw,
'Till once unyoked from the curfed law.
Sin's full dominion keeps its native place,
While men are under law, not under grace. †
For mighty hills of enmity won't move,
'Till touch'd by fov'reign grace and mighty love.
Were but the gofpel-fecret understood,
How God can pardon where he fees no good;
How grace and mercy free, that can't be bought,
Reign thro' a righteoufnefs already wrought:
Were woful reigning unbelief depos'd,
Myftrious grace to blinded minds difclos'd:
Did heav'n with gofpel-news its pow'r convey,
And finners hear a faithful God but fay,
"No more law-debt remains for you to pay;
"Lo! by the loving Surety all's discharg'd."
Their hearts behov'd with love to be enlarg'd:
Love, the fuccinct fulfilling of the law *,
Were then the eafy yoke they'd sweetly draw,
Love would conftrain and to his fervice move,
Who left them nothing else to do but love.
Slight now his loving precepts if they can;
No, no; his conqu'ring kindness leads the van.
When everlasting love exerts the fway,
They judge themfelves more kindly bound t'obey;
Bound by redeeming grace in ftricter sense
Than ever Adam was in innocence.
Why now they are not bound, as formerly,
To do and live, nor yet to do or die;
Both life and death are put in Jefus' hands,
Who urges neither in his kind commands,
Not fervile work their life and heav'n to win,
Nor flavish labour death and hell to fhun.
Their aims are purer, fince they understood
Their heav'n was bought, their hell was quench'd with
The oars of gofpel-fervice now they fteer,
Without or legal hope or flavish fear.
The bride in fweet fecurity can dwell,
Nor bound to purchase heav'n, nor vanquish hell:
But bound for him the race of love to run,
Whofe love to her left none of these undone;
She's bound to be the Lamb's obedient wife:
And in his ftrength to ferve him during life,
To glorify his loving name for ay,
Who left her not a fingle mite to pay
Of legal debt, but wrote for her at large,
In characters of blood, a full difcharge.
Henceforth no fervile tafk her labours prove,
But grateful fruits of reverential love.
Gospel-grace giving no liberty nor freedom to fin, but to boly fervice and pure obedience.
HE glorious Hufband's love can't lead the wife
To whoredom, or licentioufness of life:
Nay, nay; the finds his warmest love within,
The hotteft fire to melt her heart for fin.
His kind embrace is ftill the strongest cord
To bind her to the fervice of her Lord.
The more her faith infures this love of his,
'The more his law her delectation is.
Some dream, they might, who this affurance win,
Take latitude and liberty to fin.
Ah! fuch bewray their ignorance, and prove
They want the lively fenfe of drawing love,
And how its fweet conftraining force can move.
The ark of grace came never in to dwell,
But Dagon-lufis before it headlong fell.
Men bafely can unto lafciviousness
Abuse the doctrine, not the work of grace.
Huggers of divine love in vice's path,
Have but the fancy of it, not the faith.
They never foar'd aloft on grace's wing,
That knew not grace to be a holy thing;
When regnant fhe the pow'rs of hell appals,
And fin's dominion in the ruin falls.
Curft is the crew, whofe Antinomian drefs
Makes grace a cover to their idleness.
The bride of Chrift will fure be very loth
To make his love a pillow for her floth.
Why, may'nt fhe fin the more that grace abounds?
Oh! God forbid! the very thought confounds.
When dead unto the law, fhe's dead to fin;
How can the any longer live therein?
To neither of them is the now a flave,
But fhares the conqueft of the great, the brave,
The mighty Gen'ral, her victorious Head,
Who broke the double chain to free the bride.