The Great Assize; Or, Christs certain and sudden ap-
pearance to Judgment. Being serious considerations on these Four Things, Death, Judgment,
Heaven, and Hell. By Mr. Stevens, Minister.
To the Tune of, Aim not too high, etc. Licensed according to Order.
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HEre is presented, clearly to the eye,
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A little World, new made most gloriously,
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Today here stands proud man like flowers sprite;
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But look to morrow, and hes weatherd quite.
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How happily might fallen man have livd,
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For ever, had he not his Maker grievd:
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His numrous Off-spring never would espy,
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Thro that black Curtain of Mortality.
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Alas how fast the daies of man pass by,
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Swifter than Weavers Shuttle they do fly;
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As soon as Death does end his days so soon,
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Man must appear before the great Tribune.
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Death will no succour to a King afford,
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Nor diffrence make twixt Begger and a Lord;
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Nor Beauty, Riches, favour shall obtain,
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Hell take no Bribes to linger out their pain.
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Methusalem you see by Death was told,
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That dye he must, tho he was neer so old,
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Like Fruit, when almost ripe, Storms can it shake;
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So Youth, when almost Man, Death may him take.
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The Rich Man trusting to his Riches.
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And yet, how proud Man is this side the Grave!
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As if he never should an Exit have;
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(Vaunting poor Worm) and up and down the world
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His busie carping thoughts with care is hurld.
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Hes wealthy grown, and proud of bags of treasure,
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Trusting in Riches; taking all the pleasure
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His heart can wish for; nay, he does controul
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The checks of Conscience to his precious Soul:
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Says to himself, Soul, take thine ease, and spend
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Thy time in mirth, neer think it will have end:
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Thus! thus! the Sinner does abuse his God,
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And chooses Vice, instead o th vertuous Rod.
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He Swears, & Damns, & imprecates Gods wrath,
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To strike him dead; but ah! to die hes loath:
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He Damns his very Soul; were it not just
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That God should do so too, and say, Be curst?
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Roaring and Ranting is his Hellish Note,
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Quaffing so long until his senses float,
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Drunk, like a Beast, he staggers up and down,
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Sleeps like a Hog, and is a Devil grown.
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But Oh! if God, thus angred, ready be
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To say, thou Fool, I do require of thee,
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Thy soul, this night, come, give a just account
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To what thy Stewardship does now amount.
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How dumb & senseless would he stand, to see
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Hell ready to devour him presantly,
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Calls to the Rocks, and strives to get a place,
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Therein to hide him from Gods angry face.
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But yet, suppose God suffers him to live,
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Adds mercy unto mercy, and does give
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Him yet a longer time of life, and trys,
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If hell Repent before death shuts his eyes.
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He sees that time runs round like to a wheel,
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And wrinckled Years upon his brow does steal,
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Besides gray hairs ons crazy head doth grow,
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Scatterd it lies like to a drift of Snow.
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A foggy dimness doth his sight assail,
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Striking into his head, his eyes they fail,
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His tongue does faulter, and his hands they shake,
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And with the Palsie every limb does quake.
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His glass most run, hes even out of breath,
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Ready to yield his life to conquering death,
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Who will no longer favour his old age,
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But is resolved in his death ingage.
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It peeps behind the Curtain in his face,
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Then draws the Schene, then dreadful is his case,
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His tongue does quiver, and his veins does start,
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Like sticks asunder; nay his very heart
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Ceases its motion, with his vitals, soon,
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And now alas! hes colder than a stone:
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His Kinsfolks dear his dying eyes do shut,
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So from his Bed hes in a Coffin put.
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Thus ends his Earthly splendour, and his pleasure,
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Wife, Children, Kinsfolk, and his bags of treasure,
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Are left behind, enjoy the same estate
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A little while, but follow must his fate.
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Nay, theyre not sure to keep it half a day,
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For Death does oft sweep Families away,
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The Infants instantly bereavd of Mother,
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Husband from Wife, the Sister from her Brother.
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Behold this figure, see the glass does run,
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Therefore Repent before thy time is gone,
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Both Young and Old have this before your eyes,
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Youre born to happiness or miseries.
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O therefore wretched man this very day,
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Strive by Repenting tears to wash away
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Thy sins, and then no doubt the Lord will be
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In love and mercy reconcild to thee.
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The manner of Christs coming at the Day of
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Judgment.
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Serene, like as the days of Noah were,
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So shall the coming of Gods Son appear,
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Eating and Drinking, men will merry make,
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And carnal Souls Security will take.
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And like the thief who cometh in the night,
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So will the Son of Man in glory bright,
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Come down with numerous Angels, and the sound,
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Of trumpets shrill, whose voice unnerves the ground
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The dead arise, Lord, what a horrour here
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Is to the wicked, who must strait appear,
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And come to Judgment, O how this begins,
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To bring to mind their many wretched Sins.
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O what sad shrieks they make, and clamrous cries,
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To see Hell gaping just before their eyes,
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The Heavns to melt away with fervent heat,
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The Earth a burning underneath their feet.
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The Blessed State of the Godly.
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But happy, ever happy are the Sheep
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Of Christ, who joy for evermore will keep,
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When he shall say to Saints, come come thee hither,
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You of my chosen Flock, blest of the Father.
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The Kingdom now enjoy for you prepard
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Before the heavns were made or world was reard,
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Oh what soul ravishing sweet news is this,
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Angels attend them presently to bliss.
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The miserable State of the wicked.
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But hark! what grief the Damned does attend,
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Who have no Advocate to stand their Friend,
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Sentence must passed be, go, go to dwell
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In Firey Burnings in the Lake of Hell.
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Depart with Devils which did you entice
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To hate your Saviour, and cleeve to Vice,
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Go to that Everlasting Pit, and lye
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Howling with Firey Fiends perpetually.
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O what a wretched sight twill be to see
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The Devils dragging them to misery,
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Husbands to see their Wives conveyd to Bliss,
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Whilst they mongst Damned, quite Salvation miss.
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Son from the Father, Father from the Son,
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Must partest be in the great Day of Doom,
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Praising of God, and own it to be just,
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Their own Relations are with Devils curst.
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The Godly they to Heaven take their flight,
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Whilst wicked take their course to Hell out-right,
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Lord let us watch continually; and pray
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That we may be prepard for that Great Day.
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Give us Repentance, that whilst here we live,
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We may the offers of thy Son receive,
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Then feed our souls, good God, with thy rich Grace,
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That we may stand before our Saviours Face.
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