These humble lines assume no high pretence,
To please thy fancy, or allure thy sense:
But aim, if everlasting life 's thy chase,
To clear thy mind, and warm thy heart through grace. A marriage so mysterious I proclaim,
Betwixt two parties of such diff'rent fame,
That human tongues may blush their names to tell,
To wit, the PRINCE of HEAVEN, the heir of hell!
But, on so vast a subject, who can find
Words suiting the conceptions of his mind?
Or, if our language with our thought could vie,
What mortal thought can raise itself so high?
When words and thoughts both fail, may faith and pray'r
Ascend by climbing up the Scripture stair:
From sacred writ these strange espousals may
Be explicated in the foll'wing way.
A GENERAL ACCOUNT OF MAN'S FALL IN ADAM, AND THE REMEDY PROVIDED IN CHRIST: AND A PARTICULAR ACCOUNT OF MAN'S BEING NATURALLY WEDDED TO THE LAW, AS A COVENANT OF WORKS.
OLD Adam once a heav'n of pleasure found,
While he with perfect innocence was crown'd;
His wing'd affections to his God could move
In raptures of desire, and strains of love.
Man standing spotless, pure, and innocent,
Could well the law of works with works content;
Though then, (nor since,) it could demand no less
Than personal and perfect righteousness:
These unto sinless man were easy terms,
Though now beyond the reach of wither'd arms,
The legal cov'nant then upon the field,
Perfection sought, man could perfection yield.
Rich had he, and his progeny, remain'd,
Had he primeval innocence maintain'd:
His life had been a rest without annoy,
A scene of bliss, a paradise of joy.
But subtile Satan, in the serpent hid,
Proposing fair the fruit that God forbid,
Man, soon seduc'd by hell's alluring art,
Did, disobedient, from the rule depart,
Devour'd the bait, and by his bold offence
Fell from his blissful state of innocence.*
Prostrate, he lost his God, his life, his crown,
From all his glory tumbled headlong down;
Plung'd in a deep abyss of sin and woe,
Where, void of heart to will, or hand to do,
For's own relief he can't command a thought,
The total sum of what he can is nought.
He's able only now t' increase his thrall;
He can destroy himself, and this is all.
But can the hellish brat Heav'n's law fulfil,
Whose precepts high surmount his strength and skill?
Can filthy dross produce a golden beam?
Or poison'd springs a salutif'rous stream?
Can carnal minds, fierce enmity's wide maw,
Be duly subject to the divine law?
Nay, now its direful threat'nings must take place
On all the disobedient human race,
Who do by guilt Omnipotence provoke,
Obnoxious stand to his uplifted stroke.
They must ingulf themselves in endless woes,
Who to the living God are deadly foes;
Who natively his holy will gainsay,
Must to his awful justice fall a prey.
In vain do mankind now expect, in vain
By legal deeds immortal life to gain:
Nay, death is threaten'd, threats must have their due, Or souls that sin must die,* as God is true.
REDEMPTION THROUGH CHRIST.
THE second Adam, sov'reign Lord of all,
Did, by his Father's authorising call,
From bosom of eternal love descend,
To save the guilty race that him offend ;
To treat an everlasting peace with those
Who were and ever would have been his foes.
His errand, never ending life to give
To them, whose malice would not let him live;
To make a match with rebels, and espouse
The brat which at his love her spite avows.
Himself he humbled to depress her pride,
And make his mortal foe his loving bride.
But, ere the marriage can be solemniz'd,
All lets must be remov'd, all parties pleas'd.
Law-righteousness requir'd, must be procur'd,
Law-vengeance threaten'd, must be full endur'd,
Stern justice must have credit by the match,
Sweet mercy by the heart the bride must catch.
Poor bankrupt! all her debt must first be paid,
Her former husband in the grave be laid:
Her present lover must be at the cost,
To save and ransom to the uttermost:
If all these things this suitor kind can do,
Then he may win her, and her blessing too.
Hard terms indeed! while death 's the first demand; But love is strong as death,* and will not stand
To carry on the suit, and make it good,
Though at the dearest rate of wounds and blood.
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