Foly of ploding, and carking for the world.

It seemeth, somtimes strang to me
When I a while do stand, and see

How busily, employ'd we are
Speanding our time, our thoughts, our care

about this durty world, as if
Wee were, for ever here to live

Wher as our life. is but a dream
Or rather like some hasty streame

Which swiftly runs, and sudenly
Is swalow'd in eternity

If reason. might but exersize
Her self, in us, or faith advize

Such fools, and Ideotts, we should not

free grace the souls encouragment to seek after great things, July 9 72

What is the reason thou shouldst not
My soull upon high projecks plot
seeing that grace is free
It may incourage thee
Still to persue
for somthing new.

I can see nothing, in my self
Should make me cease, to seek that wealth
that's freely given to
all those that in truth doe
Make it. their ayme
to get the same.

For if unworthynese might be
A let, or hindrance, to the free
And boundlese, grace of god
I then might cease, to plod

The soull gathering some releif from experience, though clouded, & far from what it would have,

I see thoult not cast me off quite
because of unbeleife
But allways dost, and wilt delight
To give in some releife.

Although not always in that way
that I do it expect
I will be thankfull for each ray
that doth on me, reflect.

The mercy is not ripe for me
or I'me not ripe for't yet
But I will hope, that I shall see
Thou dost not me, forget.

And though I cannot get so neer
as fain I would to Christ

the soull expostulating with it self for its restlese, impatient desires to be gone, revived by mrs Sl- death, July 6 72

What dost thou ayl, my soull, what dost thou ayl
Why thus impatient, cause within the vaill
Others are taken, and thou left behind
wilt thou therfore, conclude, Christ is unkinnd
Because thou art not taken yet so neer
To him, as others of his Children deer
Whom he has cald from sin, and misery
Have to himself, in his arms for to ly
May he not what he please, do with his own
Who of his actions, gives acount to none

The soull expostulating with god, upon perticular occations, & sad aprehandtions.

Wilt thou lay the foundation
of a sweet and glorious structure Lord
And not put on, the topmost stone
acording, to thy faithfull word.

Ar not thy gifts, & calling said
without repentence, for to be
Shall not thy word then good be made
Whatever thou in us, maist see.

Wilt thou bring any soull neer to
thy self, & throw it off, again
Wilt thou thyne own work thus undoe
because of sin, which doth remain.

the soull from a sence of its unworthynese of the least mercy expostulateth with it self, for it discontent; because it has not greater mercys, yet gathers suport from the freenese of gods grace.

How darest thou my soull, thus to
aspire on high, & think
That god should great things, for thee doe
and to himself, thee link.

With shame, my soull, doe but look down
Upon thy guiltinese
Thou art unworthy, of his frown
much more, of neer accese.

The crumbs that from his table fall
thou art unworthy of

Infinet love of Christ

What love is this, that bouled in
The breast of our sweet, sacred king.

From ages of eternity
He did resovle, to come, and dye.

That he might fallen man regain
And bring him back, with him to reign.

Oh how this love should make us blush
Thou hadst (deer Lord) no need of us.

To thine esencyall glory we
Could adde nothing, at all to thee.

thou couldst in thine alfullnese dwell
had we been, in the lowest hell.

This Justice might have always shone

Christ only excelent, only desirable.

The Sun, & moon ar glorious
Which in the heavens, run their course
but whats this to compare
With one bright ray
which doth display
It self from Christ, the heir.

The heir of all things, & the sun
Whose beames of glory, still doe run
Through the creation
Warming the hart,
filling each part
Of'th heirs of sallvation.

This glorious, sublunary world
When it is bravly deck'd and curl'd
Compared with this face
tis to the eye
deformity

Experience working in — soull encouragment (to hope & wait for greater mercys) and thankfullnese.

In my distresse, to thee I cry'd
and made my wofull moane
Then comfort to me was aply'd
thou heardst me, from thy throne.

My spirits were in me confus'd
my hart, strangly opprest
My soull was in me sore amus'd
but thou, hast me refresh'd.

Thy love in question, I did call
I said thou wouldst not hear
My spirits they did sink, and fall
my sins, did make me fear.

Thou didst give unbeleif the ly

June 28 '72

Thy ways, ar ways, of pleasentnese
And all thy paithes, ar peace to me
This I must say, and will confese
Oh what will glorious heaven bee.

When somtimes, I can get to this
To have but only some dark sights
Of heavens future joy, & blise
And thesse angellicall delights.

How can I trample, with contempt
Upon the world, as vanity
From this I would, not be exempt
For all its spleanded, braviry.

Such reall, true, gainfull, commerse
Ten thousand worlds cant to us bring