Oh that I could make sure of Heaven, for now
My days on Earth unto a period grow.
The Damned cry and roar: O see the end
And sad effects of sin! sorrows attend
The wicked man. I now discern my Crime,
And seel the punishment of loss of time;
And then I hear my Soul expostulate,
Oh, thou my body, frail, of wretched state,
Why should I play the fool to please thy Lust,
When all my Kindnesses are writ in dust?
Nay, in ungrateful dust, that doth repay
A Pearl, only besmearing it with clay.
Thou but a moment art of time; but I
Must last for ever, to Eternity.
When thou with Rottenness art whelm'd about,
Where shall I be? 'Tis fit I should get out
Betimes from such an Earthy house as thine,
And, as a Star, in Heaven's mansion shine.
Angels are my Companions there: dost think,
To pleasure thee, I'll to Perdition sink?
Is it not better, prethee Mortal tell,
To Heaven we go, than thou bear me to Hell?
And then methinks sweet Jesus is at hand
With invitations thus: Behold, I stand
Here at the door, and knock; I weep, I sue
Until my head is covered o're with dew:
I wait and beg to lead thee to Delight,
My locks being filled with the dew of night.
My tears, my groans, my crying blood doth knock;
Open to me, thou heart, if not a Rock.
With patience I beseech, let sin no more
A lodging have, and Christ wait at the door.
Let not Damnation gull thee with deceit,
Whilst thy Salvation doth intreat and wait.
Then evil times methinks do thus invite:
Oh, now consider, walk as in the light;
Let all your Vertues be adorn'd with Rays;
Be living Christians, these are dying days:
Be growing Christians, lay aside vain Crimes;
Walk stedfastly in these back-sliding times.