With liquid gold of precious blood His blood abundant value bore, "T was fair divinity in gore, Who purchas'd at the highest price, For in the highest paradise Thy Husband wears the bays. He is of heav'n the comely rose ; His beauty makes it fair; Heav'n were but hell, couldst thou suppose He thither did in pomp ascend, Thy Husband's bride may sing. Ev'n there with him forever fix'd His glory shalt thou see; And nought but death is now betwixt Thy Husband's throne and thee. He 'll order death, that porter rude, Το ope the gates of brass; For, lo! with characters of blood Thy Husband wrote thy pass. At Jordan deep then be not scar'd, Thy sun will guide, thy shield will guard; He'll lead thee safe, and bring thee home, And still let blessings fall Of grace while here, till glory come: Thy Husband's bound for all. His store can answer ev'ry bill, What can thy soul conceive it lacks? His lib'ral heart to lib'ral acts Though on thy hand, that has no might, Nor work nor warfare needs thee fright, Thou wouldst (if left) thyself undo, But he uplifts and leads thee too: SECTION X. COMFORT TO BELIEVERS, FROM THE TEXT, THY MAKER IS THY HUSBAND, 99 INVERTED THUS, THY HUSBAND IS THY MAKER; AND THE CONCLUSION OF THIS SUBJECT. Or light and life, of grace and glore, In Christ thou art partaker; Rejoice in him for evermore, Thy Husband is thy Maker. He made thee, yea, made thee his bride, To what he made he 'll still abide, He made all; yea, he made all thine; Who can thy kingdom undermine? Thy Husband made the heav'n. What earthly thing can thee annoy? He made the earth to be; The waters cannot thee destroy: Do n't fear the flaming element Or that the scorching heat torment: Infectious streams shall ne'er destroy, While he is pleas'd to spare; Thou shalt thy vital breath enjoy: The sun that guides the golden day, The bird that wings its airy path, The creeping crowd that swarms beneath The grazing herd, the beasts of prey, The creatures great and small, For thy behoof their tribute pay; Thine's Paul, Apollos, life, and death, In Tophet of the damn'd's resort Nor needs from thence imagine hurt; Satan, with instruments of his, Thy Husband made the devil. His black temptations may afflict, His fiery darts annoy; But all his works, and hellish trick, Let armies strong of earthly gods |