Wilt thou love God, as he thee? then digest,
My Soule, this wholsome
meditation,
How God the Spirit, by Angels waited on
In heaven, doth make
his Temple in thy brest.
The Father having begot a Sonne most blest,
And
still begetting, (for he ne'r begonne)
Hath deign'd to chuse thee by
adoption,
Coheire to his glory, and Sabbaths endlesse rest;
And as a
robb'd man, which by search doth finde
His stolne stuffe sold, must lose or
buy it againe;
The Sonne of glory came downe, and was slaine,
Us whom he
had made, and Satan stolne, to unbinde.
'Twas much, that man was made like
God before,
But, that God should be made like man, much more.