To th’ Soul that sees its Need of Christ,
And longs in him t’have Interest,
And ’cause its vile, is full of Fear,
The foll0wing Lines presented are;
Being a Poem, made by One,
Sav’d by Free Grace, thro’ God’s dear Son.
The Author wishes ’t may be blest,
To give some Soul a Glimpse of Christ.
Come, trembling Soul, Oh! Come and see,
What Grace there is in Christ for Thee.
What dost thou want? there’s All in Him,
Prepar’d to fill thee to the Brim.
Art thou with th’ Guilt of Sin opprest?
Christ bore its Weight, to give thee Rest;
And calls, ev’n Thee, as if by Name,
To Look to Him, the Bleeding Lamb.
And were thy Sins of Crimson Dye,
Christ’s Blood can cleanse thee perfectly:
What’s all thy mighty guilt, before
His Godlike Blood! that paid thy Score?
He’ll cast thy Sins in this vast Sea,
Whose Depths Unfathomable be:
And as th’ Egyptian Host was drown’d,
They’ll sink as Lead, and ne’re be found.
Doth Sin’s Defilement thy Heart grieve?
Christ’s Blood alone can thee relieve.
There’s Virtue in it, Infinite!
To wash thee clean, and make thee bright.
Doth Sin in ’ts Being, Sin in ’ts Power,
Afflict, and threaten to devour?
Christ’s mighty Arm will Sin subdue,
And slay it in its Being too.
Look then to Jesus on the Tree,
Dying for Sinners, such as Thee:
Oh See! Christ made an End of Sin,
For every Soul that looks to Him.
Cast then thy Burden on the Lord;
And he’ll sustain, as says his Word.
That Soul shall never sink, or die,
Who doth on Christ, for Life Rely.
Dost thou want Strength, and Righteousness?
Dost see thy Need of every Grace?
Christ’s Strength, his Grace, his Robe is full;
To fill, to cloath the naked Soul.
And in a Word, there’s All in Christ,
That thou canst want to make thee blest;
To raise thee now, and set thee high,
In Glory, to Eternity.
What hinders then thy Joy in Him?
Is it because thou’st Nought to bring?
Is it because thou art so vile,
Thou fear’st thou ne’re shalt have a Smile?
Why, Christ needs none of all thy Good,
To join with his most precious Blood:
His full Salvation is so great,
That it is every Way compleat.
And this he freely gives away,
To them that ha’n’t a Mite to pay.
And that Soul pleaseth Jesus well,
That comes most Poor, for him to fill.
The Rich are empty sent from Him,
While th’ poorest Souls are fill’d to th’ Brim.
Christ saves, with th’ greatest of Delight,
The Soul that comes in ’ts wretched Plight.
True Faith, by which a Sinner lives,
It nothing brings, but all receives:
Its Nature sweetly doth agree
With God’s Salvation, that is Free.
Its empty Hand doth take up Christ,
As th’ Father’s Gift, with which it’s blest;
And all that Life that’s in him too,
Which God doth of Free Grace bestow.
Says God, I will give all away;
And thus my boundless race display,
In saving Sinners, thro’ my Son,
That in themselves are quite undone.
Says Faith, I like this well, O Lord,
I’m glad of this Soul-saving Word:
I take thy Great Salvation, Free;
And give the Glory, Lord, to Thee.
Thus God, and th’ Soul are well agreed,
And meet in Christ, that once did bleed.
Sweetly each other thy embrace,
Displaying, and Receiving Grace.
Well then, Dear Soul, what shall I say?
Would’st thou be sav’d in God’s own Way?
And if Salvation was not Free,
Dost think it ne’re would be for Thee?
And yet afraid that thou shalt die,
When th’ Well of Life is brought so nigh!
Oh! Ope thy Mouth, and take thy Fill;
Since ’tis for Whosoever will.
And wouldst thou honour Jesus’s Blood!
Then do not stay for any Good,
In thine own Heart, before thou come;
Lest thou should’st put it in Christ’s Room.
But come to Christ, just as thou art;
With all thy Griefs, with all they Smart,
With all thy Vileness, how e’re great;
And cast thy self down at his Feet;
And say, with the poor leprous Man,
If thou wilt, thou canst make me clean.
I come, Lord Jesus, in my Need,
To Thee, who did for Sinners bleed.
I come to th’ Fountain, ope for Sin;
Oh wash my filthy Soul therein!
I come to Thee for Righteousness,
And for Supply of every Grace:
Lord, I am Empty, thou art Full,
And with a Word canst save my Soul.
Thou know’st I fain on Thee would rest;
Let thy Salvation make me blest.
Let me not perish from thy Sight,
Since thou in grace dost much Delight:
Oh! Let thy Mercy bid me Live;
That I to thee may Glory give.
Thus crowd thro’ thy Unworthiness,
To try the Riches of his Grace;
And Christ will say, what ere’s thy Guilt,
Soul, be it to thee as thou wilt.
Thou’st overcome me with Faith’s Eye;
I can’t thy great Request deny.
My self, and all that is in Me,
In boundless Love, I give to Thee.
Fear not, I’ll keep thee from all Harms,
Enclosed in Everlasting Arms.
I joy to save thee, Oh my Bride!
This was the End for which I dy’d.
It glads my Heart to see thy Face,
Thou welcome art to all my Grace.
I, in my Love, will rest in thee;
Who art for ever one with me.
In Me therefore take up thy Rest,
Till thou, with me, art fully blest.
For thou hast All, in having Me,
For Time, and for Eternity.
Thy Riches thou canst never spend,
To Ages that shall have no End.
Such Life, and Glory I will give,
That Tongue can’t tell, nor Heart conceive!
Text: [Dutton, Anne]. A Discourse Concerning the New-Birth: to which are added Two Poems; the one on Salvation in Christ, by Free-Grace, for the Chief of Sinners: the Other on a Believer’s Safety and Duty. With an Epistle Recommendatory, by the Reverend Mr. Jacob Rogers, B.A. (London: Printed; and sold by John Oswald at the Rose and Crown in the Poultry, near Stocks-Market; and Ebenezer Gardner, at Milton’s Head in Grace-Church-Street, 1740), pp. 122-25.