A47509:857
The glorious lover a divine poem upon the adorable mystery of sinners redemption /
The glorious lover a divine poem upon the adorable mystery of sinners redemption / by B.K., author of War with the Devil.
London: printed by J.D. for Christopher Hussey, 1679
Modern spelling is a reading aid: the words are the author’s, only the spelling is modernized. Original shows the page as printed, with the transcription marks.
Prince of Light.
Soul! Hearken to me or thou art undone, I cannot leave thee thus, nor yet be gone, I see thy state; thy state I pity too, Thy treacherous Lovers seek thine overthrow. It is in vain for me to ask thy Love, Until thou breakest with them, and dost remove ⟨p. 67⟩Thy Heart from those that thy Affections have, Who to vile Lusts thy Faculties enslave. What dost thou think I can have in mine Eye? What self-advantage will accrue thereby? What gain I, if thou grantest my request? All that I beg's thy greatest Interest. I ever happy was, and so shall be, Although at present thus distressed for Thee. How canst thou, cruel Soul, thus let me stand, Barred out of Doors, whilst others do command The choicest Room within thy yielding Breast, Lodgings too good for such destructive Guests. Believe me, poisonous Toads and Serpents lurk Within thine Arms, which will thy ruin work: Those Lovers which thou keepest so close within Are Murderers. Trust not that Monster SIN, Nor any of his Hellish Company; For though no harm thou dost at present spy, But wantonly presumest to sport and play, And canst not see the fatal snares they lay: Soul! ope the Door, and I'll discover all The secret Plots, devised for thy fall; Or, push the Window back, let in some light, And I will show thee a most dismal sight: Thy self I'll show thee, which couldst thou behold, Thou'dst see thou art undone, betrayed and sold To slavery, from whence there's no Redemption, Torments, from wch there's not the least exemption. Then wake, look now, behold thy wretched plight, Or straight thou r't seized with eternal Night.
Soul! Harken to me or thou art undone, I cannot leave thee thus, nor yet be gone, I see thy state; thy state I pity too, Thy treacherous Lovers seek thine overthrow. It is in vain for me to ask thy Love, Until thou breakst with them, and dost remove ⟨p. 67⟩