Praise for the Promised Glory
Most glorious God, that name of thine In heaven and earth must hallowed be;
All upon whom thy face doth shine
Praise thee with heart, [and tongue,] and knee.
Our praises for this earthly state,
Are checquer’d with [our mix’d] complaints, But when heav’ns glory we relate,
Pure, [unmix* d] praise becometh saints.
Eye hath not seen, nor heart conceiv’d What thou prepar’st [for saints] above:
saxter’s poems.
The glory hardly is believ’d,
Of souls there blest with [perfect] love.
The heavenly Jerusalem
Of [all thyy saints the mother is: The kingdom where Christ reigns with them,
In everlasting [joyful] bliss. God and the lamb there are the sun,
[None s dark] there: all have perfect light: Their time, their joy, is never done,
Their [perfect] day-light hath no night.
As perfect health inclines to mirth,
There [perfect] love produceth joy 9
Souls are not there cloggM with dull earth; Nc sin [no pain] doth them annoy.
Sight banisheth all unbelief:
Possession ’s more than [strongest] hope: Those live in perfect light and life;
Who here [in flesh] did doubt and grope.
O praise that glorious face, ye saints,
Which shines you out of [fear and] pain:
The praising soul there never faints: It s love [and joy] in which they reign.
There we shall never wish for more;
[More love] more joy, in sense of need; But on heav’ns satisfying store
In [fullest] pleasure ever feed.
As all the warbling strings of lute,
In concord one [sweet] tune [do] make.
All parts of God’s creation suit,
No jars the concert [there shall] break.
Blest souls do boar a noble part
” $h this sweet [perfect] harmony
Each holy well-tun ‘d fervent heart
Rapt with the [pleasant] melody.
The joy which oft like lightning here, Doth leave us in the [frightful] dark,
Essential is and constant there:
The sun excels our [little] spark.
When light hath darkness vanquished, [And when] weak faith is turn’d to sight,
When troubling doubts and fears are fled, [Thy] praise shall be our [full] delight.
When sin doth cease, we ’11 cease our moans, And no more dread thy [burning] wrath,
Thy ;oys will silence all our groans;
[In heaven] there ’s no more fear of death.
Our faithful friends are gone before, Those who were lately [praying] here,
All past to heav’n thrqugh the same door, Out of our sight [they are] safe there.
We see not whither we must go,
[Nor] where [the] souls departed be,
We trust in him who all doth know; Our [blessed] head for us doth see.
O you that are past all our fears, And see God’s [shining] face always:
Bless him who wip’d away your tears, [It’s] you [that] sing the sweetest praise.
BAXTER S POEMS. T7fc
Praise him for nature’s glorious frame, j$
It’s open to your [clearest] view, Sun, moon, and stars, declare his name
Their [rapid] motion’s known to you.
Praise Christ, the churches glorious king: He s still your life, [your joy, [ your food,
He did you to that glory bring:
[You drink] the wine bought with his blood.
Praise ye the Holy Spirit’s grace,
And all his [holy] works of love:
He fitted you to see God’s face,
And set your hearts [on things] above.
You holy souls, and angels all
Bless, [praise and] magnify the Lord, Ascend my soul; thy God doth call:
And with this [heavenly] choir accord.
To Father, Son, and Holy Ghost,
One [only] GOD in persons three, All honour, glory, thanks, and praise,
Now and for ever [rend* red] be.