Prison-pietie, or, Meditations divine and moral digested into poetical heads, on mixt and various subjects : whereunto is added a panegyrick to the right reverend, and most nobly descended, Henry Lord Bishop of London / by Samuel Speed ...

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Title
Prison-pietie, or, Meditations divine and moral digested into poetical heads, on mixt and various subjects : whereunto is added a panegyrick to the right reverend, and most nobly descended, Henry Lord Bishop of London / by Samuel Speed ...
Author
Speed, Samuel, 1631-1682.
Publication
London :: Printed by J. C. for S. S. ...,
1677.
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"Prison-pietie, or, Meditations divine and moral digested into poetical heads, on mixt and various subjects : whereunto is added a panegyrick to the right reverend, and most nobly descended, Henry Lord Bishop of London / by Samuel Speed ..." In the digital collection Early English Books Online. https://name.umdl.umich.edu/A61073.0001.001. University of Michigan Library Digital Collections. Accessed June 1, 2024.

Pages

¶ On Fatherly Affection.

AS in the street I walking cast my eye, It was my chance two Children to espie Fighting together: by a•…•…d by in hast The Father of the one, who saw what past, Stept in, and suddenly, without delay, He parted both, and took his Son away, And l•…•…ke a Father, careful of his Son, Gave him correction for the sau•…•…t he'd done. The other Lad was left without a check, Which made him strut and boast, and stretch his neck, Believing he had surely won the day, Though both alike were equal in the fray. I thought it hard that one should punish'd be And not the other, he escaping free, At last I guess'd 'twas a Paternal care One to correct, to teach him to beware: For over him he a dominion had, But was a stranger to the other Lad. So when the wicked sin, the godly smart; God in chas•…•…sing shews Paternal art:

Page 181

He chastens whom he loves, whilst wicked men Pursue their sins, and act them o're agen. The reason common sense cannot avo d, Sinners are spar'd only to be destroy'd. What need a whip for stubborn sinners backs, When 'tis decreed their heads are for the axe?
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