Joshua Redivivus, or Mr. Rutherford's Letters

I find the fruits of my pains to have Christ and that people once fairly met, now meeteth my soul in my sad hours, & I rejoice that I gave fair warning of all the corruptions, now entering in Christs house, and now many a sweet, sweet, soft kiss, many perfumed well smelled kisses, & embracements, have I received of my royal Master: He & I have had much love together. I have for the present a sick, dwining life, with much pain, & much love-sickness for Christ: O what I would give to have a bed made to my wearied soul, in his bosom! I would first heaven for many years, to have my fill of Jesus in this life, & to have occasion to offer Christ to my people: & to woo many people to Christ. I cannot tell you what sweet pain, and delight some torments are in Christs love? I often challenge time, that holdeth us sundry. I profess to you I have no rest, I have no ease while I be over head & ears in lov's-ocean. if Christs love, (that fountain of delight) were laid as open to me as I would wish; O how would I drink, and drink abundantly! O how drunken would this my soul be! I half call his absence cruel, and the mask & veil on Christs face, a cruel covering, that hideth such a fair, fair face, from a sick soul. I dare not challenge himself, but his absence is a mountain of iron upon my heavy heart. O when will we meet! O how long is it to the dawning of the marriage-day! O sweet Lord Jesus take wide steps! O my Lord come over mountains at one stride! O my beloved flee like a roe, or young hart, upon the mountains of separation! O if he would fold the heavens together like an old cloak, & should time and days out of the way, & make ready in haste the lambs wife for her husband! Since he looked upon me, my heart is not mine own, he hath run away to heaven with it: I know it was not for nothing, that I spake so meikle good of Christ to you in public. ⟨p. 40⟩O if the heaven & the heaven of heavens were paper, and the sea ink, & the multitude of mountains pens of brass, & I were able to write that paper, within, and without, full of the praises of my fairest, my dearest, my loveliest, my sweetest, my matchless, and my most marrowless and marvellous well beloved! woe is me I cannot set him out to men & Angels. O there are few tongues to sing love-songs of his incomparable excellency! what can I poor prisoner do to exalt him?

I finde the fruits of my pains to have Christ and that people once fairly met, now meeteth my soul in my sad hours, & I rejoyce that I gave fair warning of all the corruptions, now entring in Christs house, and now many a sweet, sweet, soft kisse, many perfumed well smelled kisses, & embracements, have I received of my royall Master: He & I have had much love together. I have for the present a sick, dwining life, with much pain, & much love-sickness for Christ: O what I would give to have a bed made to my wearied soul, in his bosome! I would frist heaven for many yeers, to have my fill of Jesus in this life, & to have occasion to offer Christ to my people: & to wooe many people to Christ. I cannot tell you what sweet pain, and delight some torments are in Christs love? I often challenge time, that holdeth us sundry. I profess to you I have no rest, I have no ease while I be over head & ears in lov's-ocean. if Christs love, (that fountain of delight) were laid as open to me as I would wish; O how would I drink, and drink abundantly! O how drunken would this my soul be! I half call his absence cruell, and the mask & vaile on Christs face, a cruell covering, that hideth such a fair, fair face, from a sick soul. I dare not challenge himself, but his absence is a mountain of iron upon my heavie heart. O when will we meet! O how long is it to the dawning of the marriage-day! O sweet Lord Jesus take wide steps! O my Lord come over mountains at one stride! O my beloved flee like a roe, or young hart, upon the mountains of separation! O if he would fold the heavens together like an old cloak, & shovle time and dayes out of the way, & make ready in haste the lambs wife for her husband! Since he looked upon me, my heart is not mine own, he hath run away to heaven with it: I know it was not for nothing, that I spake so meekle good of Christ to you in publike.