Puritans

Excerpt from Zion In Distress by Benjamin Keach (1681)

keachYou are to wait for God’s great Dispensations,
At whose disposal is the fate of the Nations;
His time is best, and in due Season he
Will bring this Beast to his Catastrophe.
He sits in Heaven, and beholds with Scorn,
This Rebels Pride. His glorious Son that’s born
Heir of the World, and Prince of Kingdoms too,
Shall surely Reign, because it is his due;
For all to him the Soveraign Rule must yield;
He shall the Crown and Royal Scepter wield:
Nations shall serve him; Kings that have abhor’d
His Name, shall pay him Homage, as their Lord.

by Benjamin Keach, 1681

Excerpt from The Four Ages of Man by Anne Bradstreet

428_abradFrom King to beggar, all degrees shall find
But vanity, vexation of the mind.
Yea, knowing much, the pleasant’st life of all
Hath yet amongst that sweet, some bitter gall.
Though reading others’ Works doth much refresh,
Yet studying much brings weariness to th’ flesh.
My studies, labours, readings all are done,
And my last period can e’en elmost run.
Corruption, my Father, I do call,
Mother, and sisters both; the worms that crawl
In my dark house, such kindred I have store.
There I shall rest till heavens shall be no more;
And when this flesh shall rot and be consum’d,
This body, by this soul, shall be assum’d;
And I shall see with these same very eyes
My strong Redeemer coming in the skies.
Triumph I shall, o’re Sin, o’re Death, o’re Hell,
And in that hope, I bid you all farewell.
by Anne Bradstreet

Excerpt from Contemplations by Anne Bradstreet

O Time the fatal wrack of mortal things,
That draws oblivions curtains over kings,
Their sumptuous monuments, men know them not,
Their names without a Record are forgot,
Their parts, their ports, their pomp’s all laid in th’ dust.
Nor wit, nor gold, nor buildings scape times rust;
But he whose name is grav’d in the white stone
Shall last and shine when all of these are gone.
by Anne Bradstreet428_abrad

Excerpt from Dialogue Between Old England and New by Anne Bradstreet (1642)

To all you’ve said, sad mother, I assent.
Your fearful sins great cause there‘s to lament.428_abrad
My guilty hands (in part) hold up with you,
A sharer in your punishment’s my due.
But all you say amounts to this effect,
Not what you feel, but what you do expect.
Pray, in plain terms, what is your present grief?
Then let’s join heads and hands for your relief.

by Anne Bradstreet, 1642

A Poem from Navigation Spiritualized by John Flavel (1796)

There’s many a soul eternally undone
For sparing sin, because a little one.
But we are much deceiv’d; no sin is small,johnflavela
That wounds so great a God, so dear a soul.
Yet say it were, the smallest pen-knife may
As well as sword or lance, dispatch and slay,
And shall so small a matter part and sever
Christ and thy soul? What! make you part for ever?
Or wilt thou stand on toys with him, when he
Deny’d himself in greatest things for thee?
Or will it be an ease in hell to think
How easily thy soul therein did sink?
Are Christ and hell for trifles sold and bought?
Strike souls with trembling, Lord, at such a thought!
By little sins belov’d, the soul is lost,
Unless such sins do great repentance cost.

by John Flavel, 1796

A Poem by John Flavel

johnflavelaBare seeds have no great beauty but inhum’d
That which they had is lost, and quite consumed;
They soon corrupt and grow  more base by odds,
when dead and buried underneath the clods
It falls in baseness but at length doth rise,
In glory which delights the beholders eyes;
How great a difference hath a few days made
Betwixt it, in the bushel and the blade!
This lovely lively emblem aptly may
Type out the glorious  resurrection day.
Wherein the saints that in dust do lie
Shall rise in glory, vigour, dignity.
With singing in that morning they arise
And dazzling glory; such as  mortal eyes
Never viewed on Earth; The sparkling beauties here,
No more can equalize their splendour there
Than glimmering glow worms do the  fairest star
That shines in Heaven, or the Stones that are
In every street,  may competition hold
With glittering diamonds in rings of gold.
For unto Christ’s most glorious body they
Shall be conformed in glory at that day;
Whose lustre would should it on mortals fall
Transport a Stephen, and  confound a Paul.
Tis now a course, a crazy house of clay?
But O! How dear do souls for lodging pay!
Few more than I, for thou, my soul hast been,
Within these tens of Kedar, cooped in.
Where with distempers clogged, thou makest thou moans,
And for deliverance, with tears and groans
Hast often said: cheer up, the time will be
When thou from all these troubles shall be free.
No jarring humours, cloudy vapours, Rheums,
Pains aches or whatever else consumes.
My days in greif while in the Christian race
Flesh lags behind and can’t keep equal pace
With the more equal spirit; none of these
Shall thencefore clogg thee or disturb thy ease.

Belshazzar by Anne Bradstreet

428_abradUnworthy Belshazzar next wears the crown,
Whose acts profane a sacred Pen sets down,
His lust and crueltyes in storyes find,
A royal State rul’d by a bruitish mind.
His life so base, and dissolute invites
The noble Persian to invade his rights.
Who with his own, and Uncles power anon,
Layes siedge to’s Regal Seat, proud Babylon,
The coward King, whose strength lay in his walls,
To banquetting and revelling now falls,
To shew his little dread, but greater store,
To chear his friends, and scorn his foes the more.
The holy vessels thither brought long since,
They carrows’d in, and sacrilegious prince
Did praise his Gods of mettal, wood, and stone,
Protectors of his Crown, and Babylon,
But he above, his doings did deride,
And with a hand soon dashed all this pride.
The King upon the wall casting his eye,
The fingers of a hand writing did spy,
Which horrid sight, he fears must needs portend
Destruction to his Crown, to’s Person end.
With quaking knees, and heart appall’d he cries,
For the Soothsayers, and Magicians wise;
This language strange to read, and to unfold;
With gifts of Scarlet robe, and Chain of gold,
And highest dignity, next to the King,
To him that could interpret, clear this thing:
But dumb the gazing Astrologers stand,
Amazed at the writing, and the hand.
None answers the affrighted Kings intent,
Who still expects some fearful sad event;
As dead, alive he sits, as one undone:
In comes the Queen, to chear her heartless Son.
Of Daniel tells, who in his grand-sires dayes
VVas held in more account then now he was.
Daniel in haste is brought before the King,
VVho doth not flatter, nor once cloak the thing;
Reminds him of his Grand-Sires height and fall,
And of his own notorious sins withall:
His Drunkenness, and his profaness high,
His pride and sottish gross Idolatry.
The guilty King with colour pale and dead
Then hears his Mene and his Tekel read.
And one thing did worthy a King (though late)
Perform’d his word to him that told his fate.
That night victorious Cyrus took the town,
VVho soon did terminate his life and crown;
VVith him did end the race of Baladan:
And now the Persian Monarchy began.