Page:Soliloquy on the soul (1).pdf/9

 And in their journey cauſeth them, they come ſo little ſpeed. This is the thing that mars their peace, and makes them droop and dwine, While bitter water mingles it, among their ſweeeteſt wine. Altho' the good which the ſaints would, to do they are not able, And makes altho' their ſtate be good, their joy to be unſtable. In all their ſpiritual ſervices, doth render imperfect, And in their duties it obſtructs, their pleaſures and delight When they have got ſome ſight and view, ev'n of the promis'd land; Some light alſo, whereby their way, they know and underſtand Its motions in the ſoul yet may, cauſe ſuch miſt to ariſe, So that he wilder'd like, where am I now he cries Of all thy ſpiritual enemies' it is moſt to be fear'd; Therefore thou carefully 'gainſt it, and watchfully muſt guard Where'er thou goeſt, it will go, it will be ſure to lodge, Where thou goeſt ſtill labouring, to make of thee a drudge. Goeſt thou to read, to ſing, to ray it thither will repair Goeſt thou to meditation, it ſurely will be there.