BAXTER'S POEMS. Why should no£ death then be a straiter door, Than either that of nature or .of grace? Which brings us unto the eternal store, Of joy and glory in God's shir~.ing face? SELF-DENIAL. A Dialogue between the Flesh and the Spirit, Flesh. WHAT ! become nothing! ne'er persuade me to it. God made me something; and I '11 not undo it. Spirit. Thy someth,ing is not thine, but his that gave it. · Hesign to him, if thou mean to save it. Flesh. God gave me life: and shall I choose to die Before my time, or pine in misery? Spirit. God is thy life: if then thou fearest death; Let him be all thy soul, thy pulse, and breath. Fles!t. What! must I hate myself? when as my brother Must love me ! and I may not hate another? Spirit. Loath what is loathsdme . love God .in the rest~ , He truly.loves himself, that loves God best. [grudge? Fles!t. Doth God our ease and pleasure to· us Or (loth religion make a man a drudge ? [pleasure : Spirit. That is thy poison which thou callest And that thy drudgery which thou count'st thy treasure. Flesh. Who can endure to be thus mewed up ? And under laws for every bit m~d cup ?
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