Youth.
'Tis not for Riches, nor for pleasure here,
Nor Honours, which by men so prized are,
Nor length of days, Lord, do I seek or crave,
'Tis something else my Soul doth long to have,
The Earth's a blast, and all the World's a bubble:
There's nothing in't can ease me of my trouble.
Such is my state, nought but thy hand can save,
'Tis thou must raise dead Laz'r•s from the grave.
Knock off these bolts, and set thy Prisoner free,
And give thy grace (Lord JESUS) unto me.
My fainting Spirit comfort and refresh,
O spare my Soul, but crucify the flesh;
Complete thy Work (Lord Jesus) on my heart,
And thy own Righteousness to me impart.
There's nought, I see, will do me any good,
Save the dear Merit of thy Precious Blood.
My bleeding Soul will faint away and dye,
If thou dost not thy Blood with speed apply.
How has my panting breast sent many groan,
With bitter tears unto thy gracious Throne,
For one sweet look and aspect of thine Eye?
There's nothing else which will me satisfy:
Oh! manifest thy Love unto my soul,
For that will cure me and soon make me whole.
My gasping Soul's dissolved into ears,
Whilst pleased with hopes, and yet possessed with fears▪
⟨image ?⟩My great Request, alas! is only this,
Come seal thy Love to me with a sweet kiss:
For nought is there on Earth, nor Heaven above,
Which I esteem or value like thy Love.
A promise grant, some Word to lie upon,
Before my life and little hopes be gone.
My Soul's afraid, and trembles, thou dost see,
Because I know that I unworthy be:
Ah! I have made thee bleed, I am so vile,
Thy frowns I do deserve, but not one smile.
How did I grieve and put thy Soul to pain!
The thoughts of it doth cut my heart in twain,
Thy Messenger, how did my Soul refuse,
and my poor Conscience, wickedly abuse,
Who did receive Commission from above,
Either to clear, or sharply to reprove,
I unto Truth oft-times turned a deaf ear,
And unto Satan rather did adhere.
I slighted thee, and sin I did embrace,
Which shames me greatly to look in thy face.
If thou shouldst pardon such a one as I,
And save my Soul to all eternity,
And me embrace in contract of Love,
And all thy wrath forever quite remove:
It would be Grace and Love beyond degree,
And such which never can expressed be:
O, wilt thou speak again, dear Saviour, do,
A Promise, Lord, or I'll not let thee go.
Youth.
'Tis not for Riches, nor for pleasure here,
Nor Honours, which by men so prized are,
Nor length of days, Lord, do I seek or crave,
'Tis something else my Soul doth long to have,
The Earth's a blast, and all the World's a bubble:
There's nothing in't can ease me of my trouble.
Such is my state, nought but thy hand can save,
'Tis thou must raise dead Laz'r•s from the grave.
Knock off these bolts, and set thy Prisoner free,
And give thy grace (Lord JESUS) unto me.
My fainting Spirit comfort and refresh,
O spare my Soul, but crucifie the flesh;
Compleat thy Work (Lord Jesus) on my heart,
And thy own Righteousness to me impart.
There's nought, I see, will do me any good,
Save the dear Merit of thy Precious Blood.
My bleeding Soul will faint away and dye,
If thou dost not thy Blood with speed apply.
How has my panting brest sent many groan,
With bitter tears unto thy gracious Throne,
For one sweet look and aspect of thine Eye?
There's nothing else which will me satisfie:
Oh! manifest thy Love unto my soul,
For that will cure me and soon make me whole.
My gasping Soul's dissolved into ears,
Whilst pleas'd with hopes, and yet possess'd with fears▪
⟨image ?⟩My great Request, alas! is only this,
Come seal thy Love to me with a sweet kiss:
For nought is there on Earth, nor Heaven above,
Which I esteem or value like thy Love.
A promise grant, some Word to lie upon,
Before my life and little hopes be gone.
My Soul's afraid, and trembles, thou dost see,
Because I know that I unworthy be:
Ah! I have made thee bleed, I am so vile,
Thy frowns I do deserve, but not one smile.
How did I grieve and put thy Soul to pain!
The thoughts of it doth cut my heart in twain,
Thy Messenger, how did my Soul refuse,
and my poor Conscience, wickedly abuse,
Who did receive Commission from above,
Either to clear, or sharply to reprove,
I unto Truth oft-times turn'd a deaf ear,
And unto Satan rather did adhere.
I slighted thee, and sin I did embrace,
Which shames me greatly to look in thy face.
If thou shouldst pardon such a one as I,
And save my Soul to all eternity,
And me embrace in contract of Love,
And all thy wrath forever quite remove:
It would be Grace and Love beyond degree,
And such which never can expressed be:
O, wilt thou speak again, dear Saviour, do,
A Promise, Lord, or I'll not let thee go.
