When incomes fail, then still upon
Thy Husband keep thine eye.

But can't thou look, nor moan thy strait,
So dark's the dismal hour?
Yet as thou'rt able, cry, and wait
Thy Husband's day of power.

Tell him, though sin prolong the term,
Yet love can scarce delay;

Thy want, his promise, all affirm,
Thy Husband must not stay.

SECTION

VIII.

Christ the believer's enriching treasure.

IND Jesus lives, thy life to be

And, when he comes, thou'lt joy to see
Thy Husband shall be judge.

Should passing troubles thee annoy,
Without, within, or both?

Since endless life thou'lt then enjoy,
Thy Husband pledg'd his truth.

What wont he, ev'n in time, impart
That's for thy real good?

He gave

his love, he gave his heart, Thy Husband gave his blood.

He gives himself, and what should more ?

What can he then refuse?

If this won't please thee, ah how sore
Thy Husband dost abuse !

Earth's fruit, heav'n's due he won't deny,
Whose eyes thy need behold :
Nought under or above the sky

Thy Husband will with-hold.

Dost losses grieve? Since all is thine,
What loss can thee befal,

All things for good to thee combine,
Thy Husband orders all.

Thou'rt not put off with barren leaves,

Or dung of earthly pelf;

More wealth than heav'n and earth he gives,
Thy Husband's thine himself.

Thou hast enough to stay thy plaint,
Else thou complain'st of ease;
For, having all, don't speak of want,
Thy Husband may suffice.

From this thy store, believing, take
Wealth to the utmost pitch;
The gold of Ophir cannot make,
Thy Husband makes the rich.

Some flying gains acquire by pains,
And some by plund'ring toil;
Such treasure fades, but thine remains,
Thy Husband's cannot spoil.

Christ the believer's adorning garment.

EA, thou excell'st in rich attire

The lamp that lights the globe; Thy sparkling garment heav'ns admire, Thy Husband is thy robe.

This raiment never waxes old,
'Tis always new and clean ;
From summer-heat, and winter-cold,
Thy Husband can thee screen.

All who the name of worthies bore,
Since Adam was undrest,
No worth acquir'd, but as they wore
Thy Husband's purple vest.

This linen fine can beautify
The soul with sin begirt.

O bliss his name, that e'er on thee
Thy husband spread his skirt.

Are dunghills deck'd with flow'ry glore,
Which Solomon's outvie?
Sure thine is infinitely more,

Thy Husband decks the sky.

Thy hands could never work the dress,
By grace alone thou'rt gay.

Grace vents and reigns through righteousness,
Thy Husband's bright array.

To spin thy robe no more dost need
Than lillies toil for theirs ;

Out of his bowels ev'ry thread

Thy Husband thine prepares.

TH

SECTION X.

Christ the believer's sweet nourishment.

THY food, conform to thine array,
Is heav'nly and divine;

On pastures green, where angels play,
Thy Husband feeds thee fine.

Angelic food may make the fair,
And look with cheerful face;
The bread of life, the double share,
Thy Husband's love and grace.

What can he give, or thou desire,
More than his flesh and blood?
Let angels wonder, saints admire,
Thy Husband is thy food!

His flesh the incarnation bears,
From whence thy feeding flows;
His blood the satisfaction clears,
Thy Husband both bestows.

Th' incarnate God a sacrifice,
To turn the wrathful tide,
Is food for faith; that may suffice
Thy Husband's guilty bride.

This strenth'ning food may fit and fence
For work and war to come;

Till through the crowd, some moments hence,
Thy Hnsband bring thee home :

Where plenteous feasting will succeed
To scanty feeding here:

And joyful at the table-head

Thy Husband fair appear.

Then crumbs to banquets will take place,

And drops to rivers new :

While heart and eye will face to face
Thy Husband ever view.

G

CHAPTER II.

Containing the marks and characters of the believer in CHRIST; together with some farther privileges and grounds of comfort to the saints.

SECTION I.

Doubting believers called to examine, by marks drawn from their love to him and his presence, their view of his glory, and their being emptied of self-righteousness, &c.

GOOD news! but, says the drooping bride,

what's all this to me?

Thou doubt'st thy right when shadows hide
Thy Husband's face from thee.

Through sin and guilt thy spirit faints,
And trembling fears thy fate:
But harbour not thy groundless plaints,
Thy Husband's advent wait.

Thou sobb'st, "O were I sure he's mine,
This would give glad'ning ease;"
And say'st, Though wants and woes combine,
Thy Husband would thee please.

But up and down, and seldom clear
Inclos'd with hellish routs ;

Yet yield thou not, nor foster fear:
Thy Husband hates thy doubts.