Classic Poem

Love.

If thou, thy goods givst to the poor
and wantst this grace of love
Thou'lt never get within the door
where dwells, the god above.

True love is boundlese in desires
untill it terminate
Upon the object, itt admires
breaking through ev'ry lett.

True love is conjugall, and chast
Its lasting, firm, & sure
Unto its object, it doth hast
none from itt, can alure.

It takes no rest, but seekes about
and will not be content
Untill itt find the object out
upon which it is bent.

True love is never weary of
the object whom itt loves
And when it seems to stand aloof
after itt the hart moves.

It studys always how to please
and fears to gives offence
If angry it seeks to apease
with ernest diligence

Love always, thinks well of itts god
when he seems, as unkinnd
It will not keep up one hard thought
or bear a Jealouse mind.

True love to Christ, itt doth constraine
to goe through thick, and thin,
Through fire, & water, life, and death
Untill wee come to him,

It will admitt no other Lover,
To bear from him a part,
But preses on with strong endevour
To get neerer his hart.

The soull, that's touch'd, with this loadstone
Still turns, and restlese is,
Untill it come, to fix upon,
the centor, of its blise.

Love runs unto its sweetest freind
in all its needs, and straigts
Gods glory, is its only end
for this, it seeks, and waits

It takes delight to speak, or think
Of that it most, doth love
Love doth fastly, and strongly link
unto the god above,

It seeks no higher, joy, or crown
then to enjoy its god
And in his arms, for to lye down
taking him, for its lot.

True love can willingly, lay down
its glory, & its fame
In durt, soe it may bring renown
unto his holy name

T'will chearfully it self abase
to lift Christ, up on high
T'would have his glory fly apace
above the earth, and sky.

Love is a sweet, and holy fire,
mounting upwards apace
Scorching the soull, with strong desire
to see, his blessed face.

Oh hasten Lord that blessed day
for here, I find no rest
Come fecth my Longing soull away
to be with thee its best.

Oh make me one, pure mase of love,
flaming up towards thee,
Untill I come, to dwell above
where love, shall perfect bee