Classic Poem

Song IV

1

Behold what matchless Love
The God of Heaven shows,
To those on whom Eternal Life
And Glory he bestows!
If now God calls them Sons;
How glorious shall they be,
When being made like Christ, they shall
Him in his Glory see?

2

Their Body frail and vile,
That's in Corruption sown,
Shall then be raised up again
In Incorruption.
This Mortal must be cloth'd
With Immortality:
And then shall Death be swallowed up
In perfect Victory

3

It is at present sown
A Body Natural.
But shall arise again e're long
A Body Spiritual
We now need many helps
Our vigour to maintain,
As Meat, Drink, Sleep: but shall need none
After we rise again.

4

It's now in weakness sown;
But shall be rais'd in power:
Sown in Dishonour: but shall rise
In Glory at that hour
It shall be wholly freed
From all Infirmities,
And be most active, hale, and strong
When once it doth arise.

5

Though subject to Reproach
Whil'st living; and when dead
Must needs be carried out of sight,
And quickly buried:
Yet Christ shall raise it up
With Beauty shining bright,
More lovely then the Morning fair,
With Heavenly Glory dight.

6

And if the Body shew
So beautiful and fair:
How shall the Soul be beautify'd
And shine beyond compare?
Adorn'd with costly Robes,
More precious far then Gold,
Of Christ's unspotted Righteousness
Most lovely to behold.

7

When as God's blessed Image
That was defac'd by Sin
Is perfectly restor'd again
And ever dwells therein
When as it shall behold
God's Glory shining bright,
And be transform'd and glorious made
By that most glorious sight.

8

When like a Glass it shall
Receive those glorious Rayes,
And back again reflect the same
To God's Eternal Praise.
When in the Sea of Bliss
It constantly shall move:
And be for ever ravish'd with
The sweetness of his Love.


9
If Moses face did shine
By being forty daies,
I'th' Mount: how shall their faces shine,
That dwell with God alwayes;
Moses his Back-parts saw
But they shall see his face,
And to their joy unspeakable
Enjoy the God of grace.

10
Oh happy, happy Souls
That in God's bosome rest!
That of the fountain of all bliss
Already are possest!
Your Labour's at an end
Your seed in tears was sown,
But now you reap a joyful Crop,
And wear a Glorious Crown.

11
We that are still below
Have much work yet undone,
A War to wage, sharp thorns to wear,
A painful race to run.
Lord help us so to run,
As that we may obtain:
That when this life is at an end
We may in Glory reign.