VIII. CANTICLES i. 3, 4. Draw me: we will run after thee, because of the savour of thy good ointments. HUS, like a lump of the corrupted mass, TH I lie secure, long lost before I was : And, like a block, beneath whose burden lies Can stinking Lazaras compound or strive A hand to raise it, or itself restore, And from her sandy deeps approach the dry-foot shore? So hard's the task for sinful flesh and blood None should thy glory see, none should thy glory see. But if the potter please t' inform* the clay, And if that life-restoring voice command To beckon, or to dart a stick but in, Dead Laz'rus must revive, and th' ax must float again. Inform; i. e. new-make. L 4 Lord, Lord, as I am, I have no pow'r at all The gloomy clouds of mine own guilt benight me ; Thy glorious beams, not dainty sweets invite me; They neither can direct, nor these at all delight me. See how my sin-bemangled body lies, Give me the pow'r to will, the will to do; Draw me, O draw me with thy treble twist, O lend me strength to do, and then command thy list! My soul's a clock, whose wheels (for want of use Of eating rust) wants vigour to fulfil Her twelve-hours task, and shew her Maker's skill, But idly sleeps unmov'd, and standeth vainly still. Great God, it is thy work, and therefore good; S. BERN. S. BERN. Ser. xxi. in Cant. Let us run, let us run, but in the savour of thy ointment, not in the confidence of our merits, not in the greatness of our strength we trust to run, but in the multitude of thy mercies; for though we run and are willing, it is not in him that willeth, nor in him that runneth, but in God that sheweth mercy. O let thy mercy return, and we will run : thou, like a giant, runnest by thy own power; we, unless thy ointment breathe upon us, cannot run. EPIG. 8. Look not, my watch, being once repair'd, to stand He 'as wound thee up, and cleans'd thy cogs with blood: CANTI |