Grieve not the HOLY SPIRIT. From the same

And art thou griev'd, O Sacred Dove, When I despise or cross thy Love? Griev'd for a Worm; when ev'ry Tread Crushes, and leaves the Reptile dead!

Then Mirth be ever banish'd hence, Since Thou art pain'd by my Offence; I sin not to my Grief alone, The Comforter within doth groan.

Then weep my Eyes, for GOD doth grieve! Weep, foolish Heart, and weeping live: Tears for the Living Mourner plead, But ne'er avail the hopeless Dead.

Lord, I adjudge myself to Grief, To endless Tears without Relief: Yet O! t' exact thy Due forbear, And spare a feeble Creature, spare!

Still if I wail not, (still to wail Nature denies, and Flesh would fail) Lord, pardon—for thy Son makes good My Want of Tears, with Store of Blood.