John Bunyan Poems

My little bird, how canst thou sit
And sing amidst so many thorns?
Let me a hold upon thee get,
My love with honour thee adorns.
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Now, if thou wouldst inherit righteousness,
And so sanctification possess

In body, soul, and spirit, then thou must
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WHEN at the first I took my pen in hand
Thus for to write, I did not understand

That I at all should make a little book
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He that is down need fear no fall,
He that is low, no pride;
He that is humble ever shall
Have God to be his guide.
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As 'tis appointed men should die,
So judgment is the next
That meets them most assuredly;
For so saith holy text.
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When understand my meaning by my words,
How sense of mercy unto faith affords

Both grace to sanctify, and holy make
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The love of Christ, poor I! may touch upon;
But 'tis unsearchable. O! there is none
Its large dimensions can comprehend
Should they dilate thereon world without end.
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The water is the fish's element;
Take her from thence, none can her death prevent;
And some have said, who have transgressors been,
As good not be, as to be kept from sin.
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O Wondrous dreamer, with thy power divine,
How all our pilgrim-life thy dream hath told
Our load of sin, our hopes, our doubts so cold,
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This Moses was a fair and comely man,
His wife a swarthy Ethiopian;
Nor did his milk-white bosom change her sin.
She came out thence as black as she went in.
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