L. Of the Love of Christ.
THe love of Christ, poor I! may touch upon;
But 'tis unsearchable. Oh! There is none
It's large Dimensions can comprehend,
Should they dilate thereon, World without end.
When we had sinned, in his Zeal he sware,
That he upon his back our Sins would bear.
And since unto Sin is entailed Death,
He vowed, for our Sins he'd lose his Breath.
He did not only say, vow, or resolve,
But to Astonishment did so involve
Himself, in man's distress and misery,
As for, and with him, both to live and dye.
To his eternal Fame, in Sacred Story,
We find that he did lay aside his Glory.
Step'd from the Throne of highest Dignity;
Become poor Man, did in a Manger lie;
Yea was beholding unto his for Bread;
Had, of his own, not where to lay his Head.
Tho rich, he did, for us, become thus poor,
That he might make us rich for evermore.
Nor was this but the least of what he did;
But the outside of what he suffered.
God made his Blessed Son under the Law;
Under the Curse, which, like the Lyon's Paw,