6 BAXTER'S POEMS. yet no such union dare the soul desire As parts have with ' the whole, and sparks to fire; But as dependent, low, subordinate, Such as thy,will of nothing did create. As tendeth to the sun the smallest eye Of silly vermin, or the poorest fly. My own salvation when I make my end, Full mutual love is all that I intend. And in this closure though I happy be, It's by intending and admiring thee. 0 happy grace ! which feeds above the skies ! And causest man above himself to rise ! And saves what it denys ! when worldlings lose What they despised, and what they loved and chose! The more I do myself in love neglect, And only to thy goodness have respect, When most myself I from myself abstract, This is the sweetest and self-pleasing act! Even when I seem to leave myself behind, Co1iling to thee, with thee myself I find. ·when I am least the object of my love, And unto thee do most entirely move, My soul, the willing agent, drawn by grace, Will rest in love, and vision of thy face. But in this wilderness and vale.of tears, How is love damped by ignorance and fears ! For no man's love his knowledge can exceed: And guilty terrors disaffection breed. Mortals ean know thee but as in a glass. True formal knowledge doth man's mind surpass. No thoughts or names are adequate to thee: They are but metaphors from ,what we see ;
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