es He saves them, then 'tis known
He comes to play the part that is His own.

23. GOD IS ONE.

God, as He is most holy known,
So He is said to be most one.

24. PERSECUTIONS PROFITABLE.

Afflictions they most profitable are
To the beholder and the sufferer:
Bettering them both, but by a double strain,
The first by patience, and the last by pain.

25. TO GOD.

Do with me, God, as Thou didst deal with John,
Who writ that heavenly Revelation.
Let me, like him, first cracks of thunder hear,
Then let the harps enchantments stroke mine ear:
Here give me thorns, there, in Thy kingdom, set
Upon my head the golden coronet;
There give me day; but here my dreadful night:
My sackcloth here; but there my stole of white.

_Stroke_, text _strike_.

26. WHIPS.

God has His whips here to a twofold end:
The bad to punish, and the good t' amend.

27. GOD'S PROVIDENCE.

If all transgressions here should have their pay,
What need there then be of a reckoning day?
If God should punish no sin here of men,
His providence who would not question then?

28. TEMPTATION.

Those saints which God loves best,
The devil tempts not least.

29. HIS EJACULATION TO GOD.

My God! look on me with Thine eye
Of pity, not of scrutiny;
For if Thou dost, Thou then shalt see
Nothing but loathsome sores in me.
O then, for mercy's sake, behold
These my eruptions manifold,
And heal me with Thy look or touch;
But if Thou wilt not deign so much,
Because I'm odious in Thy sight,
Speak but the word, and cure me quite.

30. GOD'S GIFTS NOT SOON GRANTED.

God hears us when we pray, but yet defers
His gifts, to exercise petitioners;
And though a while He makes requesters stay,
With princely hand He'll recompense delay.

31. PERSECUTIONS PURIFY.

God strikes His Church, but 'tis to this intent,
To make, not mar her, by this punishment;
So where He gives the bitter pills, be sure
'Tis not to poison, but to make thee pure.

32. PARDON.

God pardons those who do through frailty sin,
But never those that persevere therein.

33. AN ODE OF THE BIRTH OF OUR SAVIOUR.

In numbers, and but these few,
I sing Thy birth, O JESU!
Thou pretty baby, born here,
With sup'rabundant scorn here;
Who for Thy princely port here,