What wretches! to play at the fiery throne, The glorify'd Judge shall assemble the lost, And builders and buildings shall find, to their cost, The archangel's trump, and the sentence, shall blast; PART II. How sweet are the joys of a Spiritual Birth, All doubtings and fearings are made to subside, Stern Justice refuses to carry the suit, The debtor's amaz'd when the creditor's mute; All torments and terrors take flight, and are gone, Believers and Jesus how happy alone, Regardless he seem'd when he wrote on the ground; The Law, Sin, or Satan, could neither be found, Hath no man condemn'd thee,' he cry'd with condole, Though guilty by every plea? Nor will I condemn thee, thou penitent soul, Nor permit them to pluck thee from me. 'Peace be unto thee, and an end to the strife, I pardon thee freely, and raise thee to life; Thus wounded with sorrow, and melted with love, Amaz'd he should come from the regions above, My clouds of transgressions were chas'd from the skies The heaven of heavens desist from their lour, He's led to the Rock by omnipotent hand; The voice of the turtle is heard in the land, My God, in compassion, did sweetly appear, I thought all the angels stood silent to hear, While the melody dropp'd from my tongue, I wept with rejoicing, and sung in my grief; I coyly refused his gracious relief, But he made all my bowels to move, All nature look'd gay, and afforded delight, I yielded my soul as a captive to grace, My jealousy fled, and my mind was compos'd, I us'd my entreaties his bowels to move, And gently woo'd him, and call'd him my love,' Through each silent watch still my bed he would keep, My mind he employ'd when I sunk in a sleep, I thought of his birth, and amaz'd at the scheme, His wearisome journies by faith 1 could trace, The truths he then taught he would freely rehearse, The supper I view'd when the table was spread, And, when he foretold that he must be betray'd, But, when I beheld him as rack'd on the cross, I wonder❜d to see such a victim appear, And was griev'd that his foes could deride; But, oh! when they pierced his heart with a spear, I could fancy a pain in my side. But when on his throne I perceiv'd him supreme, And The nature of angels was never so high, As with crown and with sceptre to reign; The seraphic host, who inhabit the sky, Must adore and attend as his train. The wondering millions all cast off their crowns, And acknowledge their glory from his; While rays of divinity blaze from his wounds, And illumine the regions with bliss. The brilliant, seraphic, and ransomed race, While Jesus emits, from the rays of his face, |