The Riches of Bunyan: Selected from His Works. John Bunyan
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When darkness is thy covering;
At day thy danger's great by kites;
How canst thou then sit there and sing?
"Thy food is scarce and scanty too,
'Tis worms and trash that thou dost eat
Thy present state I pity do,
Come, I'll provide thee better meat.
I'll feed thee with white bread and milk,
And sugar-plums, if them thou crave;
I'll cover thee with finest silk,
That from the cold I may thee save.
"My father's palace shall be thine,
Yea, in it thou shalt sit and sing;
My little bird, if thou'lt be mine,
The whole year round shall be thy spring.
I'll teach thee all the notes at court,
Unthought-of music thou shalt play,
And all that thither do resort
Shall praise thee for it every day.
"I'll keep thee safe from cat and cur,
No manner o' harm shall come to thee;
Yea, I will be thy succorer,
My bosom shall thy cabin be."
But lo, behold, the bird is gone!
These charmings would not make her yield;
The child's left at the bush alone,
The bird flies yonder o'er the field.
The child of Christ an emblem is;
The bird to sinners I compare;
The thorns are like those sins of theirs,
Which do surround them everywhere.
Her songs, her food, her sunshine day,
Are emblems of those foolish toys
Which to destruction lead the way—
The fruit of worldly, empty joys.
The arguments this child doth choose
To draw to him a bird thus wild,
Shows Christ familiar speech doth use,
To make the sinner reconciled.
The bird, in that she takes her wing
To speed her from him after all,
Shows us vain man loves any thing
Much better than the heavenly call.
THE SINNER WARNED.
Thy bed, when thou liest down in it, preacheth to thee thy grave; thy sleep, thy death; and thy rising in the morning, thy resurrection to judgment.
Wouldst thou know, sinner, what thou art? look up to the cross, and behold a weeping, bleeding, dying Jesus; nothing could do but that, nothing could save thee but his blood: angels could not, saints could not, God could not, because he could not lie, because he could not deny himself.
What a thing is sin, that it should sink all that bear its burden; yea, it sunk the Son of God himself into death and the grave, and had also sunk him into hell-fire for ever, had he not teen the Son of God, had he not been able to take it on his hack and bear it away.
O this Lamh of God! Sinners were going to hell; Christ was the delight of his Father, and had a whole heaven to himself; hut that did not content him, heaven could not hold him, he must come into the world to save sinners.
Aye, and had he not come thy sins had sunk thee, thy sins had provoked the wrath of God against thee to thy destruction for ever. There is no man hut is a sinner; there is no sin hut would damn an angel, should God lay it to his charge.
Sinner, the doctrine of Christ crucified cries therefore aloud unto thee, that sin has made thy condition dreadful. See yourselves, your sins, and consequently the condition that your souls are in by the death and blood of Christ Christ's death gives us the most clear discovery of the dreadful nature of our sins.
I say again, if sin he so dreadful a thing as to break the heart of the Son of God, how shall a poor, wretched, impenitent, damned sinner wrestle with the wrath of God?
Awake, sinners; you are lost, you are undone, you perish, you are damned; hell-fire is your portion for ever, if you abide in your sins, and be found without a Saviour in the dreadful day of judgment.
Sinner, doth not all this discourse make thy heart twitter after the mercy that is with God, and after the way that is made by this plenteous redemption thereto? Methinks it should; yea, thou couldest not do otherwise, didst thou but see thy condition. Look behind thee, take a view of the path thou hast trodden these many years. Dost thou think that the way that thou art in will lead thee to the strait gate, sinner? Ponder the path of thy feet with the greatest seriousness; thy life lies upon it; what thinkest thou? But make no answer till in the night, till thou art in the night-watches; commune with thine own heart upon thy hed, and there say what thou thinkest of whither thou art going.
Oh that thou wert serious! Is not it a thing to be lamented, that madness and folly should be in thy heart while thou livest, and after that to go to the dead; when so much life stands before thee, and light to see the way to it? Surely men void of grace and possessed of carnal minds must either think that sin is nothing, that hell is easy, and that eternity is short; or else that whatever God has said about the punishing of sinners, he will never do as he has said; or that there is no sin, no God, no heaven, no hell, and so no good or bad hereafter; or else they could not live as they do. But perhaps thou presumest upon it, and sayest, I shall have peace, though I live so sinful a life. Sinner, if this wicked thought be in thy heart, tell me again, dost thou thus think in earnest? Canst thou imagine thou shalt at the day of account outface God, or make him believe thou wast what thou wast not; or that when the gate is shut up in wrath, he will at thy pleasure and to the reversing of his own counsel, open it again to thee? Why shall thy deceived heart turn thee aside, that thou canst not deliver thy soul, nor say, Is there not a lie in my right hand?
Friend, because it is a dangerous thing to be walking towards the place of darkness and anguish, and because notwithstanding, it is the journey that most of the poor souls in the world are taking, I have thought it my duty for preventing thee, to tell thee what sad success those souls have had that have persevered therein. Why, friend, it may be—nay, twenty to one, thou hast had thy back to heaven and thy face towards hell ever since thou didst come into the world. Why, I beseech thee, put a little stop to thy earnest race, and take a view of what entertainment thou art like to have, if thou do in deed and in truth persist in thy course. "Thy ways lead down to death, and thy steps to hell." It may he, indeed, the path is pleasant to the flesh, but the end thereof will he bitter to thy soul. Hark! dost thou not hear the bitter cries