BAXTER'S POEMS. But earth is near to Hell, How dark and frightful! Here life doth strive with death, To lengthen mortals breath ; Till one short race be run, Which would be ended, When it is but begun, If not defended. Here life is but a spark, Scarce shining in the dark ; Life is the element there, Which souls reside in ; Much like as air is here, Which we abide in. Hither thou cam'st from thence : The divine influence In flesh my soul did -place, Among the living : To be of human race, Was his free giving. There I shall know God more . There is the blessed choir ; No wickedness comes there, All there is holy: There is no grief or fear, No sin or folly. Jerusalem above, Glorious in light and love, Is mother of us all, Who shall enjoy ~hem, 165
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