<!DOCTYPE ETS PUBLIC "-//UMDLPS//DTD EEBOPROOF 2.0//EN">
<ETS>
<TEMPHEAD>
<REVDESCR>
<CHANGE>
<DATE>2008-10-04</DATE>
<RESPSTMT>
<NAME>Mona Logarbo</NAME>
<RESP>MURP</RESP>
</RESPSTMT>
<ITEM>Proofed and reviewed as part of batch B080857.pdcc.</ITEM>
</CHANGE>
</REVDESCR>
</TEMPHEAD>
<EEBO>
<IDG S="marc" R="UM" ID="B05968">
<STC T="W">S5497</STC>
<BIBNO T="umi">99884224</BIBNO>
<VID>182990</VID>
</IDG>
<TEXT LANG="eng">
<BODY>
<DIV1 TYPE="ballad">
<PB REF="1" MS="y"><!-- PDF PAGE 6 -->
<HEAD>The Great A&s;&s;ize; Or, Chri&s;t's certain and &s;udden ap|pearence to Judgm<GAP DESC="illegible" REASON="missing" EXTENT="1 letter">nt. Being &s;erious con&s;iderations on the&s;e Four Things, Death, Judgment, Heaven, and Hell.</HEAD>
<BYLINE><HI>By Mr.</HI> Stevens, <HI>Mini&s;ter.</HI></BYLINE>
<OPENER>To the Tune of, <HI>Aim not too high,</HI>
&amp;c.</OPENER>
<HEADNOTE>
<P>Licen&s;ed according to Order.</P>
</HEADNOTE>
<DIV2 TYPE="part">
<P><FIGURE>
<FIGDESC>depiction of Christ in glory</FIGDESC>
</FIGURE></P>
<P><FIGURE>
<FIGDESC>depiction of hell mouth</FIGDESC>
</FIGURE></P>
<LG>
<L>HEre is pre&s;ented, clearly to the eye,</L>
<L>A little World, new made mo&s;t gloriou&s;ly,</L>
<L>To day here &s;tands proud man like flowers &s;prite;</L>
<L>But look to morrow, and he's weather'd quite.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>How happily might fallen man have liv'd,</L>
<L>For ever, had he not his Maker griev'd:</L>
<L>His num'rous Off-&s;pring never would e&s;py,</L>
<L>Thro' that black Curtain of Mortality.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>Alas how fa&s;t the daies of man pa&s;s by,</L>
<L>Swifter than Weaver's Shuttle they do fly;</L>
<L>As &s;oon as Death does end his days &s;o &s;oon,</L>
<L>Man mu&s;t appear before the great Tribune.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>Death will no &s;uccour to a King afford,</L>
<L>For diff'rence make twixt Begger and a Lord;</L>
<L>For Beauty, Riches, favour &s;hall obtain,</L>
<L>He'll take no Bribes to linger out their pain.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>Methu&s;alem you &s;ee by Death was told,</L>
<L>That dye he mu&s;t, tho' he was ne'er &s;o old,</L>
<L>Like Fruit, when almo&s;t ripe, Storms can it &s;hake;</L>
<L>So Youth, when almo&s;t Man, Death may him take.</L>
</LG>
</DIV2>
<DIV2 TYPE="part">
<HEAD>The Rich Man tru&s;ting to his Riches.</HEAD>
<LG>
<L>And yet, how proud Man is this &s;ide the Grave!</L>
<L>As if he never &s;hould an Exit have;</L>
<L>(Vaunting poor Worm) and up and down the world</L>
<L>His bu&s;ie carping thoughts with care is hurld.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>He's wealthy grown, and proud of bags of trea&s;ure,</L>
<L>Tru&s;ting in Riches; raking all the plea&s;ure</L>
<L>His heart can wi&s;h for; nay, he does controul</L>
<L>The checks of Con&s;cience to his precious Soul:</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>Says to him&s;elf, Soul, take thine ea&s;e, and &s;pend</L>
<L>Thy time in mirth, ne'er think it will have end:</L>
<L>Thus! thus! the Sinner does abu&s;e his God,</L>
<L>And choo&s;es Vice, in&s;tead o' th' vertuous Rod.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>He Swears, &amp; Damns, &amp; imprecates God's wrath,</L>
<L>To &s;trike him dead; but ah! to die he's loath:</L>
<L>He Damns his very Soul, were it not ju&s;t</L>
<L>That God &s;hould do &s;o too, and &s;ay, Be cur&s;t?</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>Roaring and Ranting is his Helli&s;h Note,</L>
<L>Qauffing &s;o long until his &s;en&s;es float,</L>
<L>Drunk, like a Bea&s;t, he &s;taggers up and down,</L>
<L>Sleeps like a Hog, and is a Devil grown.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>But Oh! if God thus angred, ready be</L>
<L>To &s;ay, thou Fool, I do require of thee,</L>
<L>Thy &s;oul, this night, come, give a ju&s;t account</L>
<L>To what thy Steward&s;hip does now amount.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>How dumb &amp; &s;en&s;ele&s;s would he &s;tand, to &s;ee</L>
<L>Hell ready to devour him pre&s;antly,</L>
<L>Calls to the Rocks, and &s;trives to get a place,</L>
<L>Therein to hide him from God's angry face.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>But yet, &s;uppo&s;e God &s;uffers him to live,</L>
<L>Adds mercy unto mercy, and does give</L>
<L>Him yet a longer time of life, and trys,</L>
<L>If he'll Repent before death &s;huts his eyes.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>He &s;ees that time runs round like to a wheel,</L>
<L>And wrinckled Years upon his brow does &s;teal.</L>
<L>Be&s;ides gray hairs on's crazy head doth grow,</L>
<L>Scatter'd it lies like to a drift of Snow,</L>
</LG>
<P><FIGURE>
<FIGDESC>skeleton in the grave</FIGDESC>
</FIGURE></P>
<LG>
<PB REF="1"><!-- PDF PAGE 6 -->
<L>A foggy dimne&s;s doth his &s;ight a&s;&s;ail,</L>
<L>Striking into his head, his eyes they fail,</L>
<L>His tongue does faulter, and his hands they &s;hake,</L>
<L>And with the Pal&s;ie every limb does quake.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>His gla&s;s mo&s;t run, he's even out of breath,</L>
<L>Ready to yield his life to conquering death,</L>
<L>Who will no longer favour his old age,</L>
<L>But is re&s;olved in his death ingage.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>If peeps behind the Curtain in his face,</L>
<L>Then draws the Schene, then breavful is his ca&s;e,</L>
<L>His tongue does quiver, and his veins does &s;tart,</L>
<L>Like &s;ticks a&s;under; nay his very heart</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>Cea&s;es its motion, with his vitals, &s;oon,</L>
<L>And now alas! he's colder than a &s;tone:</L>
<L>His Kinsfolks dear his dying eyes do &s;hut,</L>
<L>So from his Bed he's in a Coffin put.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>Thus ends his Earthl'y &s;plendour, and his plea&s;ure'</L>
<L>Wife, Children, Kinsfolk, and his bags of treasure,</L>
<L>Are left behind, enjoy the &s;ame e&s;tate</L>
<L>A little while, but follow mu&s;t his fate.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>Nay, they're not &s;ure to keep it half a day,</L>
<L>For Death does oft &s;weep Families away,</L>
<L>The Infants in&s;tantly bereav'd of Mother,</L>
<L>Husband from Wife, the Si&s;ter from her Brother.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>Behold this figure, &s;ee the gla&s;s does run,</L>
<L>Therefore Repent before thy time is gone,</L>
<L>Both Young and Old have this before your eyes,</L>
<L>You're born to happine&s;s or mi&s;eries.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>O therefore wretched man this very day,</L>
<L>Strive by Repenting tears to wa&s;h away</L>
<L>Thy &s;ins, and then no doubt thy Lord will be</L>
<L>In love and mercy reconcil'd to thee.</L>
</LG>
</DIV2>
<DIV2 TYPE="part">
<HEAD>The manner of Chri&s;t's coming at the Day of Judgment.</HEAD>
<LG>
<L>Serene, like as the days of <HI>Noah</HI> were,</L>
<L>So &s;hall the coming of God's Son appear,</L>
<L>Eating and Drinking, men will merry make,</L>
<L>And carnal Souls Security will take.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>And like the thief who cometh in the night,</L>
<L>So will the Son of Man in glory bright,</L>
<L>Come down with numerous Angels, and the &s;ound,</L>
<L>Of trumpets &s;hrill, who&s;e voice unnerves the ground</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>The dead arise, Lord, what a horrour here</L>
<L>Is to the wicked, who mu&s;t &s;trait appear,</L>
<L>And come to Judgment, O how this begins,</L>
<L>To bring to mind their many wretched Sins.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>O what sad &s;hrieks they make, and clam'rous cries,</L>
<L>To &s;ee Hell gaping ju&s;t before their eyes,</L>
<L>The Heav'ns to melt away with fervent heat,</L>
<L>The Earth a burning underneath their feet.</L>
</LG>
</DIV2>
<DIV2 TYPE="part">
<HEAD>The Ble&s;&s;ed State of the Godly.</HEAD>
<LG>
<L>But happy, ever happy are the Sheep</L>
<L>Of Chri&s;t, who joy for evermore will keep,</L>
<L>When he &s;hall &s;ay to Saints, come come thee hither,</L>
<L>You of my cho&s;en Flock, ble&s;t of the Father.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>The kingdom now enjoy for you prepar'd</L>
<L>Before the heav'ns were made or world was rear'd,</L>
<L>Oh what &s;oul ravi&s;hing &s;weet news is this.</L>
<L>Angels attend them pre&s;ently to bli&s;s.</L>
</LG>
</DIV2>
<DIV2 TYPE="part">
<HEAD>The mi&s;erable State of the wicked.</HEAD>
<LG>
<L>But dark! what grief the Damned does attend,</L>
<L>Who have no <HI>Advocate</HI> to &s;tand their Friend,</L>
<L>Sentence mu&s;t pa&s;&s;ed be, go, go to dwell</L>
<L>In Firey Burnings in the Lake of Hell.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>Depart with Devils which did you entice</L>
<L>To hate your Saviour, and cleeve to Vice,</L>
<L>Go to that Everla&s;ting Pit, and lye</L>
<L>Howling with Firey Fiends perpetually.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>O what a wretched &s;ight 'twill be to &s;ee</L>
<L>The Devils dragging them to mi&s;ery,</L>
<L>Husbands to &s;ee their Wives convey'd to Bli&s;s,</L>
<L>Whil&s;t they 'mong&s;t Damned, quite Salvation mi&s;s.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>Son from the Father, Father from the Son,</L>
<L>Mu&s;t parte&s;t be in the great Day of Doom,</L>
<L>Prai&s;ing of God, and own it to be ju&s;t,</L>
<L>Their own Relations are with Devils cur&s;t.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>The Godly they to Heaven take their flight,</L>
<L>Whil&s;t wicked take their cour&s;e to Hell out-right,</L>
<L>Lord let us watch continually; and pray</L>
<L>That we may be prepar'd for that Great Day.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>Give us Repentance, that while here we live,</L>
<L>We may the offers of thy Son receive,</L>
<L>Then feed our &s;ouls, good God, with thy rich Grace,</L>
<L>That we may &s;tand before our Saviour's Face.</L>
</LG>
</DIV2>
</DIV1>
</BODY>
<BACK>
<DIV1 TYPE="colophon">
<P>Printed for <HI>P. Brooksby,</HI> at the Golden-Ball in <HI>Pye-corner,</HI> near <HI>We&s;t-Smithfield.</HI></P>
</DIV1>
</BACK>
</TEXT>
</EEBO>
</ETS>
