O created love, think shame of thy self before this unparalleled love of heaven! O angel-wisdom, hide thy self before our Lord whose understanding passeth finding out! O sun in thy shining beauty, for shame put on a web of darkness & cover thy self before thy brightest master & maker! O who can add glory by doing or suffering, to this never-enough-admired and praised lover! Oh we can but bring our drop to this sea, and our candle, dim and dark as it is, to this clear and lightsome sun of heaven and earth! Oh but we have cause to drink ten deaths in one cup dry, to swim through ten seas, to be at that land of praises, where we shall see that wonder of wonders & enjoy this jewel of heavens jewels! O death, do thy outmost against us! O torments! O malice of men & devils, waste thy-strength on the witnesses of our Lord's testament! O devils, bring hell to help you in tormenting the followers of the Lamb! we will defy you to make us too soon happy, & to waft us too soon over the water to the land where the noble plant, the plant of venown groweth. O cruel Time, that torments us & suspends our dearest enjoyments that we wait for, when we shall be bathed & steeped, soul & body, down in the depths of this love of loves! O Time, I say, run fast! O motions, mend your pace! O Well beloved, be like a young Roe upon the mountains of Separations! Post, post; & hasten our desired & hungered-for meeting: love is sick to hear tell of to morrow. ⟨p. 494⟩And what then can come wrong to you, O honourable witnesses of his Kingly truth? Men have no more of you to work upon, but some few inches and span-lengths of fickle, coughing and flegmatick clay: your spirits are above their benches, courts, or High Commissions: your souls, your love to Christ, your faith, cannot be summoned not sentenced nor accused nor condemned by Pope, Deputy, Prelate, Ruler or Tyrant: your faith is a free Lord, & cannot be a captive: all the malice of hell & earth, can but hurt the scabbard of a believer: & death at the worst can get but a clay-pawn in keeping till your Lord make the King's keys & open your graves. Therefore upon luck's head [as we use to say] take your sill of his love, and let a post way or a causey be laid betwixt your prison and heaven, and go up & visit your treasure: Enjoy your Beloved & dwell upon his love, till Eternity come in Time's room & possess you of your eternal happiness:
O created love, think shame of thy self before this unparalleled love of heaven! O angel-wisdom, hide thy self before our Lord whose understanding passeth finding out! O sun in thy shining beauty, for shame put on a web of darkness & cover thy self before thy brightest master & maker! O who can adde glory by doing or suffering, to this never-enough-admired and praised lover! Oh we can but bring our drop to this sea, and our candle, dim and dark as it is, to this clear and lightsom sun of heaven and earth! Oh but we have cause to drink ten deaths in one cup dry, to swim through ten seas, to be at that land of praises, where we shall see that wonder of wonders & enjoy this jewel of heavens jewels! O death, doe thy outmost against us! O torments! O malice of men & devils, waste thy-strength on the witnesses of our Lord's testament! O devils, bring hell to help you in tormenting the followers of the Lamb! we will defie you to make us too soon happy, & to waft us too soon over the water to the land where the noble plant, the plant of venown groweth. O cruel Time, that torments us & suspends our dearest enjoyments that we wait for, when we shall be bathed & steeped, soul & body, down in the depths of this love of loves! O Time, I say, run fast! O motions, mend your pace! O Welbeloved, be like a young Roe upon the mountains of Separations! Post, post; & hasten our desired & hungered-for meeting: love is sick to hear tell of to morrow. ⟨p. 494⟩And what then can come wrong to you, O honourable witnesses of his Kingly truth? Men have no more of you to work upon, but some few inches and span-lengths of fick, coughing and flegmatick clay: your spirits are above their benches, courts, or High Commissions: your souls, your love to Christ, your faith, cannot be summoned not sentenced nor accused nor condemned by Pope, Deputy, Prelat, Ruler or Tyrant: your faith is a free Lord, & cannot be a captive: all the malice of hell & earth, can but hurt the scabbard of a beleever: & death at the worst can get but a clay-pawne in keeping till your Lord make the King's keys & open your graves. Therefore upon luck's head [as we use to say] take your sill of his love, and let a post way or a causey be laid betwixt your prison and heaven, and goe up & visit your treasure: Enjoy your Beloved & dwell upon his love, till Eternity come in Time's room & possess you of your eternal happiness:
