Fire and Ice: Puritan and Reformed Writings
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Comfort to Believers, in Christ's Relations, in His Dying Love, His Glory in Heaven, to which He will Lead Them through Death, and Supply with Necessaries by the Way.

By Ralph Erskine

"Thy Maker is thy Husband."—Isa 54:5

Behold the patrimony broad
       That falls to thee by line;
In him thou art an heir of God,
       Thy husband's Father's thine.

He is of relatives a store,
       Thy friend will help in thrall;
Thy brother much, thy father more,
       Thy husband most of all.

All these he does amass and share,
       In ways that most excell;
'Mong all the husbands ever were,
       Thy husband bears the bell.

Whence run the streams of all thy good,
       But from his piercèd side?
With liquid gold of precious blood
       Thy husband bought his bride.

His blood abundant value bore,
       To make his purchase broad;
'Twas fair divinity in gore,
       Thy husband is thy God.

Who purchas'd at the highest price,
       Be crowned with highest praise;
For in the highest paradise
       Thy husband wears the bays.

He is of heaven the comely rose,
       His beauty makes it fair:
Heaven were but hell, couldst thou suppose
       Thy husband were not there.

He thither did in pomp ascend,
       His spouse along to bring:
That hallelujah's without end
       Thy husband's bride may sing.

Ev'n there with him for ever fix'd
       His glory shalt thou see;
And nought but death is now betwixt
       Thy husband's throne and thee.

He'll order death, that porter rude,
       To ope the gates of brass;
For, lo! with characters of blood
       Thy husband wrote thy pass.

At Jordan deep then be not scared,
       Though dismal-like and broad:
Thy sun will guide, thy shield will guard,
       Thy husband paved the road.

He'll lead thee safe, and bring thee home
       And still let blessings fall
Of grace while here, till glory come:
       Thy husband's bound for all.

His store can answer every bill,
       Thy food and rainment's bought;
Be at his will, thou'lt have thy fill,
       Thy husband wants for nought.

What can thy soul conceive it lacks?
       His store, his pow'r is thine;
His lib'ral heart to lib'ral acts
       Thy husband does incline.

Though on thy hand, that has no might,
       He should not task enlarge;
Nor work, nor warfare, needs thee fright
       Thy husband bears the charge.

Thou wouldst, (if left,) thyself undo,
       So apt to fall and stray.
But he uplifts, and leads thee too; Thy husband knows the way.

Index to Ralph Erskine
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