Classic Poem

What a high favour's this,
That God should be man's harbinger to blisse!
When John prepar'd the way before Thy face,
O Christ! 'twas no smal grace.

Unto the Baptist then;
Much greater dost Thou now bestow on men,
In that Thou goe'st before to make us roome
In heaven against we come.

Lord! we were not more glad
At Thy first coming then we should be sad
At Thy departure; didst not Thou impart
This cordial to our heart,

Chearing our spirits thus,
That Thou possession tak'st of heaven for us;
Thou in our flesh hast entered there, and we
By vertue thereof be.

Assured of our places,
As soone as ever we have run our races;
With all the patriarchs we shall sit down
And there receive our crown.

It is then fit and just
That we should think of shaking off our dust,
And laying downe our earthly tabernacles,
Which are to us as shackles,

And hinder our soul's flight
To those blest mansions which are ours by right,
Let us not dreame of setting up our rest
Til w' are of heaven possest.

That is our center, that
Our country is, our proper place, whereat
All our endeavours must aim, since we are ne're
At home till we come there.

O Thou that art the Way,
And went'st the way before us, grant we may
Follow Thy steps so close that in the end
We may that place ascend.