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If all these things this fuitor kind can do,
Then he may win her, and her bleffing too.
Hard terms indeed! while death's the first
demand;

But love is strong as death *, and will not ftand
To carry on the fuit, and make it good,

Though at the dearest rate of wounds and blood..

The burden's heavy, but the back is broad,
The glorious lover is the mighty God t
Kind bowels yearning in th' eternal Son,
He left his Father's court, his heavn'ly throne ::
Afide he threw his moft divine array,
And wrapt his Godhead in a veil of clay.
Angelic armies, who in glory crown'd,
With joyful harps his awful throne furround,
Down to the cryftal frontier of the sky ‡
To fee the Saviour born, did eager fly;
And ever fince behold with wonder frefh
Their Sov'reign and our Saviour wrapt in flesh..
Who in his garb did mighty love display,
Reftoring what he never took away S,

To God his glory, to the law its due,
To heav'n its honour, to the earth its hue,,
To man a righteoufnefs divine, complete,
A royal robe to fuit the nuptial rite..
He in her favours, whom he lov'd fo well,'
At once did purchase heav'n, and vanquish hell.
Oh! unexampled love! fo vaft, so strong,
So great, fo high, fo deep, fo broad, fo long!
Can finite thought this ocean huge explore,
Unconscious of a bottom or a fhore?

* Song viii. 6. † Ifa. ix. 6.
f Pfalm Ixix. iv.

Luke ii. got

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His love admits no parallel, for why,

At one great draught of love he drank hell dry.
No drop of wrathful gall he left behind;
No dreg to witnefs that he was unkind.
The fword of awful juftice pierc'd his fide,
That mercy thence might gufh upon the bride.
The meritorious labours of his life,

And glorious conquefts of his dying strife;
Her debt of doing, fuff'ring, both cancell'd,..
And broke the bars his lawful captive held.
Down to the ground the hellish hoft he threw,
Then mounting high the trump of triumph
Attended with a bright feraphic band, [blew,
Sat down enthron'd fublime on God's right-hand;
Where glorious choirs their various, harps
employ,.

9

To found his praifes with confed'rate joy.
There he, the bride's ftrong interceffor fits,
And thence the bleffings of his blood tranfmits,,
Sprinkling all o'er the flaming throne of God,
Pleads for her pardon his atoning blood;
Sends down his holy co-eternal Dove,
To fhew the wonders of incarnate love,
To woo and win the bride's reluctant heart,
And pierce it with his kindly killing dart;.
By gospel light to manifeft that now
She has no further with the law to do;
That her new lord has loos'd the fed'ral tie,
That once hard bound her or to do or die;
That precepts, threats, no fingle mite can crave.
Thus for her former fpoufe he digg'd a grave;
The law faft to his crofs did nail and pin,
Then bury'd the defunct his tomb within,
That he the lonely widow to himself might.

win..

BUT

SECT. IIK

Man's LEGAL difpofition.

UT, after all, the bride's fo malecontent, No argument, fave power, is prevalent To bow her will, and gain her heart's confent. The glorious Prince's fuit fhe difapproves, The law, her old primordial husband, loves; Hopeful in its embraces life to have, Though dead and bury'd in her fuitor's grave; Unable to give life, as once before;

Unfit to be a hufband any more.

Yet proudly fhe the new address difdains,
And all the bleft Redeemer's love and pains;
Though now his head, that cruel thorns did,
wound,

Is with immortal glory circled round; ”
Archangels at his awful footftool bow,
And drawing love fits fmiling on his brow.
Though down he fends in gofpel-tidings good.
Epiftles of his love, fign'd with his blood:
Yet lordly, the the royal fuit rejects,
Eternal life by legal works affects;
In vain the living feeks among the dead *,
Sues quick'ning comforts in a killing head.
Her dead and bury'd husband has her heart,
Which can nor death remove, nor life impart..
Thus all revolting Adam's. blinded race,

In their firft fpoufe their hope and comfort: place.

They natively expect, if guilt them prefs,
Salvation by a home-bred righteousness ::

* Luke xxvi. 5.

They look for favour in JEHOVAH's eyes,
By careful doing all that in them lies.
'Tis ftill their primary attempt to draw
Their life and comfort from the vet'ran law;
They flee not to the hope the gospel gives;
To truft a promife bare, their minds aggrieves,
Which judge the man that does, the man
that lives.

As native as they draw their vital breath,
Their fond recourfe is to the legal path.
Why, fays old nature, in law-weded man,
"Won't Heav'n be pleas'd, if I do all I can?
"If I conform my walk to nature's light,
And strive, intent to practife what is right;
Thus won't I by the God of heav'n be blefs'd,
And win his favour, if I do my best?
Good God! (he cries) when prefs'd with
debt and thrall,

• Have patience with me, and I'll pay thee all *'
Upon their all, their best, they're fondly mad,
Though yet their all is naught, their best is bad.
Proud man his can does mightily exalts,

Yet are his brightest works but fplendid faults..
A finner may have fhews of good, but ftill
The best he can, ev'n at his beft, is ill.
Can heav'n or divine favour e'er be win
By thofe that are a mafs of hell and fin?

The righteous law does num'rous woes de

nounce

Against the wretched foul that fails but once :: What heaps of curfes on their heads it rears, That have amafs'd the guilt of num'rous years

Matth. xviii. 26..

SECT. IV.

Man's ftrict attachment to legal TERMS, or to the law as a condition of life.

AY, on what terms then Heav'n appeas'd will be?

SAY,

Why, fure perfection is the least degree.
Yea, more, full fatisfaction must be giv'n
For trefpafs done against the laws of Heav'n.
Thefe are the terms: what mortal back fo broad,
But muft for ever fink beneath the load?
A ransom must be found, or die they muft,'
Sure, even as juftice infinite is juft.

But, fays the legal, proud, felf-righteous heart,
Which cannot with her ancient confort part,
What! won't the goodness of the God of
heav'n,

Admit of fmalls, when greater can't be given? He knows our fall diminfh'd all our funds, • Wont he accept of pennies now for pounds? Sincere endeavours for perfection take, "Or terms more poffible for mankind make ?" Ah! poor divinity, and jargon loofe;

Such hay and ftraw will never build the houfe.
Miftake not here, proud mortal, don't miftake,
God changes not, nor other terms will make.
Will divine faithfulness itself deny,

Which fwore folemnly, Man fhall do or die?
Will God moft true extend to us, forfooth,
His goodnefs, to the damage of his truth?
Will fpotlefs holiness be baffled thus?
Or awful juftice be unjuft for us?

Shall faithfulness be faithlefs for our fake,
And he his threats, as we his precepts break?

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