The Method

Poore heart, lament,
For since thy God refuseth still,
There is some rub, some discontent,
Which cools his will.
Thy Father could.
Quickly effect, what thou dost move;
For he is Power: and sure he would;
For he is Love.
Go search this thing,
Tumble thy breast and turn thy book:
If thou hadst lost a glove or ring,
Wouldst thou not look?
What do I see
Written above there? Yesterday
I did behave me carelessly,
When I did pray.
And should God's eare
To such indifferents chained be,
Who do not their own motions heare?
Is God lesse free?
But stay! what's there?
Late when I would have something done,
I had a motion to forbear,
Yet I went on.
And should God's care,
Which needs not man, by ty'd to those
Who heare not him, but quickly heare
His utter foes?
Then once more pray:
Down with thy knees, up with thy voice:
Seek pardon first, and God will say,
Glad heart rejoyce.