John Bunyan

LXXII. Upon Time and Eternity. Eternity is like unto a Ring. Time, like to Measure, doth it self extend; Measure commences, is a finite thing. The Ring has no beginning, middle, end.

XLV. Upon the Vine-tree. What is the Vine, more than another Tree, Nay most, than it, more tall, more comly be? What Work-man thence will take a Beam or Pin, To make ought which may be delighted in? It's Excellency in it's Fruit doth lie. A fruitless Vine! It is not worth a Fly. Comparison. What are Professors more than other men? Nothing at all. Nay, there's not one in ten, Either for Wealth, or Wit, that may compare, In many things, with some that Carnal are. Good are they, if they mortifie their Sin; But without that they are not worth a Pin.

LXVI. Upon the Disobedient Child. Children become, while little, our delights, When they grow bigger, they begin to fright's. Their sinful Nature prompts them to rebel, And to delight in Paths that lead to Hell. Their Parents Love, and Care, they overlook, As if Relation had them quite forsook. They take the Counsels of the Wanton's rather, Then the most grave Instructions of a Father. They reckon Parents ought to do for them, Tho they the Fifth Commandement contemn. They snap, and snarl, if Parents them controul, Tho but in things, most hurtful to the Soul. They reckon they are Masters, and that we, Who Parents are, should to them Subject be! If Parents fain would have a hand in chusing, The Children have a heart will in refusing. They'l by wrong doings, under Parents, gather And say, it is no Sin to rob a Father, They'l jostle Parents out of place and Pow'r, They'l make themselves the Head, and them devour. How many Children, by becoming Head, Have brought their Parents to a peice of Bread! Thus they who at the first were Parents Joy, Turn that to Bitterness, themselves destroy. But Wretched Child, how canst thou thus requite Thy Aged Parents, for that great delight They took in thee, when thou, as helpless lay In their Indulgent Bosoms day by day? Thy Mother, long before she brought thee forth, Took care thou should'st want, neither Food, nor Cloth. Thy Father glad was at his very heart, Had he, to thee, a Portion to impart. Comfort they promised themselves in thee, But thou, it seems, to them a Grief wil't be. How oft! How willingly brake they their Sleep, If thou, their Bantling, didst but whinch or weep. Their Love to thee was such, they could have giv'n, That thou might'st live, almost, their part of Heav'n. But now, behold, how they rewarded are! For their Indulgent Love, and tender Care, All is forgot, this Love he doth despise, They brought this Bird up to pick out their Eyes.

XVI. Upon Apparel. God gave us Cloaths to hide our Nakedness , And we by them , do it expose to View. Our Pride, and unclean Minds, to an excess , By our Apparel we to others shew.

Who would true Valour see Let him come hither; One here will Constant be, Come Wind, come Weather. There's no Discouragement, Shall make him once Relent, His first avow'd Intent, To be a Pilgrim

LXI. Of Man by Nature From God he's a Back slider, Of Ways, he loves the wider; With Wickedness a Sider, More Venom than a Spider. In Sin he's a Confider, A Make-bate, and Divider; Blind Reason is his Guider, The Devil is his Rider.