Poetical fragments heart-employment with God and it selfPoetical fragments heart-imployment with God and it self

Spirit. Dost thou delight to feel thy hurt and smart? Would not an Antidote preserve thy heart? Impatience is but self-tormenting folly: Patience is cordial, easy, sweet and holy. Is not that better which turns grief to peace, Than that which doth thy misery increase?

Spirit. Dost thou delight to feel thy hurt and smart? Would not an Antidote preserve thy heart? Impatience is but self-tormenting folly: Patience is cordial, easie, sweet and holy. Is not that better which turns grief to peace, Than that which doth thy misery encrease?

Flesh. When sport, and wine, and beauty do invite, Who is it whom such baits will not incite?

Spirit. He that perceives the hook and sees the end, Whither it is that fleshly Pleasures tend. He that by faith hath seen both Heaven and Hell, And what sin costeth at the last can tell: He that hath tried and tasted better things, And felt that love from which all pleasure springs. They that still watch, and for Christs coming wait, Can turn away from, or despise the bait.

Spirit. He that perceives the hook and sees the end, Whither it is that fleshly Pleasures tend. He that by faith hath seen both Heav'n and Hell, And what sin costeth at the last can tell: He that hath try'd and tasted better things, And felt that love from which all pleasure springs. They that still watch, and for Christs coming wait, Can turn away from, or despise the bait.