Since Christ embrac’d the Cross itself, dare I
His image th’image of his cross deny?
Would I have profit by the sacrifice,
And dare the chosen Altar to despise?
It bore all other sins, but is it fit
That it should bear the sin of scorning it?
Who would from the picture would avert his eye,
How would he fly his pains, who there did die?
From me, no pulpit, no misgrounded law,
Nor scandal taken, shall this Cross withdraw,
It shall not, for it cannot; for, the loss
Of this Cross, were to me another Cross;
Better were worse, for, no affliction,
No Cross so extreme, as to have none.
Who can blot out the Cross, which th’instrument
Of God, dew’d on me in the Sacrament?
Who can deny me power, and liberty
To stretch my arms, and my own Cross to be?
Swim, and at every stroke, thou art thy Cross;
The mast and yard make one, where seas do toss;
Look down, thou spiest Crosses in small things;
Look up, thou seest birds rais’d on crossed wings;
All the Globe’s frame, and spheres, is nothing else
But the Meridians crossing Parallels.
Material! Crosses then, good physique be,
But yet spiritual have chief dignity,
These are for extracted chemist medicine serve,
And cure much better, and as well preserve;
Then are you your own physician, or need none,
When Stilled, or purged by tribulation.
For when that Cross ungrung’d, unto you are sick,
Then are you to yourself, a Crucifix.
As perchance, carvers do not faces make,
But that away, which hid them there, do take.
Let Crosses, so, take what hid Christ in thee,
And be his image, or not his, but he.
But as oft Alchemists do coiners prove,
So may a self-despising, get self-love;
And then as worse suffix, of best meets be,
So is pride, issued from humility,
For, ;tis no child, but monster; therefore Cross
Your joy in crosses, else, ‘tis a double loss,
And cross thy senses, else, both they, and thou
Must perish soon, and to destruction bow.
For if th’eye seeks good objects, and will take
No cross from bad, we cannot escape a snake.
So with harsh, hard, sour, stinking, cross the rest,
Make them indifferent all; call nothing best.
But most the eye needs crossing, that can roam,
And move; To th’other th’objectsmust come home.
And cross thy heart: for that in man alone
Points downwards, and hath palpitation.
Cross those dejections, when it downwards tends,
And when it to forbidden heights pretends.
And as the brain through bony walls doth vent
By sutures, which a Cross-form present,
So when thy brain works, ere thou utter it,
Cross and correct concupiscence of wit.
Be covetous of Crosses, let none fall.
Cross no man else, but cross thyself in all.
Then doth the Cross of Christ work fruitfully
Within our hearts, when we love harmlessly
That Crosses pictures much, and with more care
That Crosses children, which our Crosses are.
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