To the Name above Every Name, the Name of Jesus, a Hymn

I Sing the Name which None can say
But touch't with An interiour R AY :
The Name of our New P EACE ; our Good:
Our Blisse: and Supernaturall Blood:
The Name of All our Lives and Loves.
Hearken, And Help, ye holy Doves!
The high-born Brood of Day; you bright
Candidates of blissefull Light,
The H EIRS Elect of Love; whose Names belong
Unto The everlasting life of Song;
All ye wise S OULES , who in the wealthy Brest
Of This unbounded Name build your warm Nest.
Awake, My glory. S OUL , (if such thou be,
And That fair W ORD at all referr to Thee)
Awake and sing
And be All Wing;
Bring hither thy whole S ELF ; and let me see
What of thy Parent H EAVN yet speakes in thee.
O thou art Poore
Of noble P OWRES , I see,
And full of nothing else but empty M E ,
Narrow, and low, and infinitely lesse
Then this G REAT mornings mighty Busynes.
One little W ORLD or two
(Alas) will never doe.
We must have store.
Goe, S OUL , out of thy Self, and seek for More.
Goe and request
Great N ATURE for the K EY of her huge Chest
Of Heavns, the self involving Sett of Sphears
(Which dull mortality more Feeles then heares)
Then rouse the nest
Of nimble A RT , and traverse round
The Aiery Shop of soul-appeasing Sound:
And beat a summons in the Same
All-soveraign Name
To warn each severall kind
And shape of sweetnes, Be they such
As sigh with supple wind
Or answer Artfull Touch,
That they convene and come away
To wait at the love-crowned Doores of
This Illustrious D AY .
Shall we dare This, my Soul? we'l doe't and bring
No Other note for't, but the Name we sing.
Wake L UTE and Harp
And every sweet-lipp't Thing
That talkes with tunefull string;
Start into life, And leap with me
Into a hasty Fitt-tun'd Harmony.
Nor must you think it much
T'obey my bolder touch;
I have Authority in L OVE 's name to take you
And to the worke of Love this morning wake you.
Wake; In the Name
Of H IM who never sleeps, All Things that Are,
Or, what's the same,
Are Musicall;
Answer my Call
And come along;
Help me to meditate mine Immortall Song.
Come, ye soft ministers of sweet sad mirth,
Bring All your houshold stuffe of Heavn on earth;
O you, my Soul's most certain Wings,
Complaining Pipes, and prattling Strings,
Bring All the store
Of S WEETS you have; And murmur that you have no more.
Come, nere to part,
N ATURE and A RT !
Come; and come strong,
To the conspiracy of our Spatious song.
Bring All the Powres of Praise
Your Provinces of well-united W ORLDS can raise;
Bring All your L UTES and HarpS of H EAVN and E ARTH ;
What e're cooperates to The common mirthe
Vessells of vocall Joyes,
Or You, more noble Architects of Intellectuall Noise,
Cymballs of Heav'n, or Humane sphears,
Solliciters of S OULES or E ARES ;
And when you'are come, with All
That you can bring or we can call;
O may you fix
For ever here, and mix
Your selves into the long
And everlasting series of a deathlesse S ONG ;
Mix all your many W ORLDS , Above,
And loose them into O NE of Love.
Chear thee my Heart !
For Thou too hast thy Part
And Place in the Great Throng
Of This unbounded All-imbracing S ONG .
Powres of my Soul, be Proud!
And speake alowd
To All the dear-bought Nations This Redeeming Name,
And in the wealth of one Rich W ORD proclaim
New Similes to Nature.
May it be no wrong
Blest Heavns, to you, and your Superiour song,
That we, dark Sons of Dust and Sorrow,
A while Dare borrow
The Name of Your Delights and our Desires,
And fitt it to so farr inferior L YRES .
Our Murmurs have their Musick too,
Ye mighty O RBES , as well as you,
Nor yeilds the noblest Nest
Of warbling S ERAPHIM to the eares of Love,
A choicer Lesson then the joyfull B REST
Of a poor panting Turtle-Dove.
And we, low Wormes have leave to doe
The Same bright Busynes (ye Third H EAVENS ) with you.
Gentle S PIRITS , doe not complain.
We will have care
To keep it fair,
And send it back to you again.
Come, lovely Name ! Appeare from forth the Bright
Regions of peacefull Light
Look from thine own Illustrious Home,
Fair King of NameS , and come.
Leave All thy native Glories in their Gorgeous Nest,
And give thy Self a while The gracious Guest
Of humble Soules, that seek to find
The hidden Sweets
Which man's heart meets
When Thou art Master of the Mind.
Come, lovely Name; life of our hope!
Lo we hold our HeartS wide ope!
Unlock thy Cabinet of D AY
Dearest Sweet, and come away.
Lo how the thirsty Lands
Gasp for thy Golden Showres! with long stretch't Hands
Lo how the laboring E ARTH
That hopes to be
All Heaven by T HEE ,
Leapes at thy Birth.
The'attending W ORLD , to wait thy Rise,
First turn'd to eyes;
And then, not knowing what to doe;
Turn'd Them to T EARES , and spent Them too.
Come R OYALL Name, and pay the expence
Of All this Pretious Patience.
O come away
And kill the D EATH of This Delay.
O see, so many W ORLDS of barren yeares
Melted and measur'd out in Seas of T EARES .
O see, The W EARY liddes of wakefull Hope
(L OVE 's Eastern windowes) All wide ope
With Curtains drawn,
To catch The Day-break of Thy D AWN .
O dawn, at last, long look't for Day!
Take thine own wings, and come away.
Lo, where Aloft it comes! It comes, Among
The Conduct of Adoring S PIRITS , that throng
Like diligent Bees, And swarm about it.
O they are wise;
And know what S WEETES are suck't from out it.
It is the Hive,
By which they thrive,
Where All their Hoard of Hony lyes.
Lo where it comes, upon The snowy D OVE 's
Soft Back; And brings a Bosom big with Loves.
W ELCOME to our dark world, Thou
Womb of Day!
Unfold thy fair Conceptions; And display
The Birth of our Bright Joyes.
O thou compacted
Body of Blessings: spirit of Soules extracted!
O dissipate thy spicy Powres
(Clowd of condensed sweets) and break upon us
In balmy showrs;
O fill our senses, And take from us
All force of so Prophane a Fallacy
To think ought sweet but that which smells of Thee.
Fair, flowry Name, In none but Thee
And Thy Nectareall Fragrancy,
Hourly there meetes
An universall S YNOD of All sweets;
By whom it is defined Thus
That no Perfume
For ever shall presume
To passe for Odoriferous,
But such alone whose sacred Pedigree
Can prove it Self some kin (sweet name) to Thee.
S WEET Name , in Thy each Syllable
A Thousand Blest A RABIAS dwell;
A Thousand Hills of Frankincense;
Mountains of myrrh, and Beds of spices,
And ten Thousand P ARADISES
The soul that tasts thee takes from thence.
How many unknown W ORLDS there are
Of Comforts, which Thou hast in keeping!
How many Thousand Mercyes there
In Pitty's soft lap ly a sleeping!
Happy he who has the art
To awake them,
And to take them
Home, and lodge them in his Heart .
O that it were as it was wont to be!
When thy old Freinds of Fire, All full of Thee,
Fought against Frowns with smiles; gave Glorious chase
To Persecutions; And against the Face
Of D EATH and feircest Dangers, durst with Brave
And sober pace march on to meet A G RAVE .
On their Bold B RESTS about the world they bore thee
And to the Teeth of Hell stood up to teach thee,
In Center of their inmost Soules they wore thee,
Where Rackes and Torments striv'd, in vain, to reach thee.
Little, alas, thought They
Who tore the Fair Brests of thy Freinds,
Their Fury but made way
For Thee; And Serv'd therein Thy glorious ends.
What did Their weapons but with wider pores
Inlarge thy flaming-brested Lovers
More freely to transpire
That impatient Fire
The Heart that hides Thee hardly covers.
What did their Weapons but sett wide the Doores
For Thee: Fair, purple Doores, of love's devising;
The Ruby windowes which inrich't the E AST
Of Thy so oft repeated Rising.
Each wound of Theirs was Thy new Morning;
And reinthron'd thee in thy Rosy Nest,
With blush of thine own Blood thy day adorning.
It was the witt of love o'reflowd the Bounds
Of W RATH , and made thee way through All Those W OUNDS .
Wellcome dear, All-Adored Name!
For sure there is no Knee
That knowes not T HEE .
Or if there be such sonns of shame,
Alas what will they doe
When stubborn Rocks shall bow
And Hills hang down their Heavn-saluting Heads
To seek for humble Beds
Of Dust, where in the Bashfull shades of night
Next to their own low N OTHING they may ly,
And couch before the dazeling light of thy dread majesty.
They that by Love's mild Dictate now
Will not adore thee,
Shall Then with Just Confusion, bow
And break before thee.
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