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What's bounded poſting time unto
endleſs eternity
But bleſt be God this way doth nor,
with ſadneſs ſo abound;
As if no pleaſures nor delights
in it were to be found.
Yea doubtleſs is this way there is,
more pleaſures to be had,
Than in the ways of in which doth
down to deſtruction lead.
For ſure the straitneſs of the way,
nor from itſelf doth flow.
'Tis only thy corruptions,
and ſins that make it ſo
Chriſt's yoke is eaſy of itſelf,
and ſhould nor thee affright,
His burden is not grievous,
but profitable and light.
If thou theſe weights aſide would lay,
that do thee this impede.
A pleaſant and a chearful life,
thou in this way might lead.
The pleaſures of this way they are,
ſo excellent and rare,
That ſinful pleaſures all with them,
can never once compare.
For why ſin's greatest pleaſures are,
not real as they ſeem
Whatever thoſe do think that he
amidſt there pleaſures ſwim,
Yea all the pleaſures of this earth,
are ſhort and do not ſtay,
Unto themſelves they wings do take
and ſwiftly fly away.
