O're fearfull Hills, and thorough forreign torrents,
That rush down mountains with their roaring currents
To seek a countrey (God knows where and whither,
Whose unknown Name hath yet scarce sounded hither.
With Staff in Hand, and Wallet on our Back:
From Town to Town, to beg for all we lack?
T' have (briefly) nothing properly our own
In all the World; no, not our Grave-place known.
Is't possible, I should endure to see
The Sighs and Tears my Friends will shed for me:
O! can I thus my native Soil forsake?
O! with what Words shall I my Farewell take?
Farewell Chaldaea, dear delights adue:
Friends, Brothers, Sisters, Farewell all of,
But now these were motives too weak to break the Desires, and designs of a Soul which God court∣eth. It is a delicious thing to leave the streams for their source, and to forsake our selves and Friends, to give our selves unto our Maker.
Abraham understood all these veryties from the very morning of his vo••ation; and at the first over∣ture of the savours which God imparted to him, he took a Staff in his Hand, and became a Pilgrm in the World, su••••iciently discovering, that the life of Man is but a Pilgrimage, and that a Man shall first, or last, reach to the Port.
And now methi••k•• the Sun doth not rise, but to present unto him a thousand Portraictures of those whom he hath left behind. The Moon, and the Stars, shew him by Night, and in his sleep, nothing but the Images of those whom he hath abandoned, and he awakes a Thousand times with sighs from his Heart, and tears in his Eyes, to embrace the shadows, and Phantasmes of his dearest Friends.
And now this poor man is not gone a Musket-shot from the City, and scarce hath lost the sight of his steeple, but he presently resumes his former wayes,