The Saints' Everlasting Rest

This is that Joy which was procured by Sorrow; this is that Crown which was procured by the Cross; my Lord did weep, that now my tears might be wiped away; he did bleed that I might now rejoice; he was forsaken, that I might not now be forsaken; he did then dye, that I might now live. This weeping, wounded Lord, shall I behold, this bleeding Saviour shall I see, and live in him that dyed for me: O free Mercy that can exalt so vile a wretch! free to me, though dear to Christ! Free Grace that hath chosen me, when thousands were forsaken! when my companions in sin must burn in hell, and I must here rejoice in Rest! here must I live with all these Saints! O comfortable meeting of my old acquaintance! with whom I prayed, and wept, and suffered; with whom I spoke of this day and place! I see the Grave could not contain you, the sea and earth must give up their dead; the same love hath redeemed and saved you also: This is not like our Cottages of Clay, nor like our Prisons, or earthly Dwellings: This voice of Joy is not like our old complainings, our groans, our sighs, our impatient moans; nor this melodious praise like our scorns and revilings, nor like the oaths and curses which we heard on earth; this body is not like the body we had, nor this soul like the soul we had, nor this life like the life that then we lived: we have changed our place, we have changed our state, our clothes, our thoughts, our looks, our Language: we have changed our company for the greater part, and the rest of our company is changed it self: Before a Saint was weak and despised, so full of pride and peevishness ⟨p. 793⟩and other sins, that we could scarce oft-times discern their graces: But now how glorious a thing is a Saint! where is now their body of sin, which wearied themselves and those about them? Where are now our different Judgments? our reproachful titles? our divided spirits? our exasperated passions? our strange looks? our uncharitable censures? Now we are all of one judgment of one name, of one heart, of one house, and of one glory. O sweet reconcilement! O happy Union! which makes us first to be one with Christ, and then to be one among our selves! Now our differences shall be dashed in our teeth no more, nor the Gospel reproached through our folly or scandal. O my soul, thou shalt never more lament the sufferings of the Saints; never more condole the Churches ruins;

This is that Joy which was procured by Sorrow; this is that Crown which was procured by the Cross; my Lord did weep, that now my tears might be wip't away; he did bleed that I might now rejoyce; he was forsaken, that I might not now be forsaken; he did then dye, that I might now live. This weeping, wounded Lord, shall I behold, this bleeding Saviour shall I see, and live in him that dyed for me: O free Mercy that can exalt so vile a wretch! free to me, though dear to Christ! Free Grace that hath chosen me, when thousands were forsaken! when my companions in sin must burn in hell, and I must here rejoyce in Rest! here must I live with all these Saints! O comfortable meeting of my old acquaintance! with whom I prayed, and wept, and suffered; with whom I spoke of this day and place! I see the Grave could not contain you, the sea and earth must give up their dead; the same love hath redeemed and saved you also: This is not like our Cottages of Clay, nor like our Prisons, or earthly Dwellings: This voyce of Joy is not like our old complainings, our groans, our sighes, our impatient moans; nor this melodious praise like our scorns and revilings, nor like the oathes and curses which we heard on earth; this body is not like the body we had, nor this soul like the soul we had, nor this life like the life that then we lived: we have changed our place, we have changed our state, our cloathes, our thoughts, our looks, our Language: we have changed our company for the greater part, and the rest of our company is changed it self: Before a Saint was weak and despised, so full of pride and peevishness