Prison Meditations by Bunyan

 Prison Meditations by Bunyan

Friend, I salute thee in the Lord, 

And wish thou may'st abound

In faith, and have a good regard 

To keep on holy ground.

Thou dost encourage me to hold 

My head above the flood;

Thy counsel better is than gold: 

In need thereof I stood.

Good counsel's good at any time; 

The wise will it receive,

Tho' fools count he commits a crime 

Who doth good counsel give.

I take it kindly at thy hand 

Thou didst unto me write;

My feet upon Mount Zion stand, 

In that take thou delight.

I am indeed in prison now 

In body, but my mind

Is free to study Christ, and how 

Unto me he is kind.

For tho' men keep my outward man 

Within their locks and bars,

Yet by the faith of Christ I can 

Mount higher than the stars.

Their fetters cannot spirits tame, 

Nor tie up God from me;

My faith and hope they cannot lame; 

Above them I shall be.

I here am very much refreshed 

To think, when I was out

I preached life and peace and rest 

To sinners round about.

My business then was souls to save 

By preaching grace and faith,

Of which the comfort now I have, 

And have it shall till death.

They were no fables that I taught, 

Devis'd by cunning men,

But God's own word, by which were caught 

Some sinners now and then.

Whose souls by it were made to see 

The evil of their sin;

And need of Christ to make them free 

From death, which they were in.

And now those very hearts that then 

Were foes unto the Lord,

Embrace his Christ and truth, like men 

Conquer'd by his word.

I hear them sigh, and groan, and cry 

For grace to God above;

They loathe their sin, and to it die; 

'Tis holiness they love.

This was the work I was about 

When hands on me were laid;

'Twas this from which they pluck'd me out 

And vilely to me said:

You heretic, deceiver, come, 

To prison you must go;

You preach abroad, and keep not home, 

You are the Church's foe.

But having peace within my soul, 

And truth on every side,

I could with comfort them control, 

And at their charge deride.

Wherefore to prison they me sent, 

Where to this day I lie;

And can with very much content 

For my profession die.

The prison very sweet to me 

Hath been since I came here,

And so would also hanging be, 

If God would there appear.

Here dwells good conscience, also peace; 

Here be my garments white;

Here, though in bonds, I have release 

From guilt, which else would bite.

When they do talk of banishment, 

Of death, or such like things,

Then to me God send heart's content, 

That like a fountain springs.

Alas! they little think what peace 

They help me to, for by

Their rage my comforts do increase; 

Bless God, therefore, do I.

If they do give me gall to drink, 

Then God doth sweet'ning cast - 

So much thereto that they can't think 

How bravely it doth taste.

For as the devil sets before 

Me heaviness and grief,

So God sets Christ and grace much more, 

Whereby I take relief.

Though they say then that we are fools 

Because we here do lie,

I answer, Jails are Christ his schools, 

In them we learn to die.

'Tis not the baseness of this state 

Doth hide us from God's face;

He frequently, both soon and late, 

Doth visit us with grace.

Here come the angels, here come saints, 

Here comes the Spirit of God,

To comfort us in our restraints 

Under the wicked's rod.

God sometimes visits prisoners more 

Than lordly palaces;

He often knocketh at the door 

When he their houses miss.

The truth and life of heav'nly things 

Lift up our hearts on high,

And carry us on eagles' wings 

Beyond carnality.

It takes away those clogs that hold 

The hearts of other men,

And makes us lively, strong and bold 

Thus to oppose their sin.

By which means God doth frustrate 

That which our foes expect -

Namely, our turning th' apostate, 

Like those of Judas' sect.

Here comes to our remembrance 

The troubles good men had

Of old, and for our furtherance 

Their joys when they were sad.

To them that here for evil lie 

The place is comfortless,

But not to me, because that I 

Lie here for righteousness.

The truth and I were both here cast 

Together, and we do

Lie arm in arm, and so hold fast 

Each other; this is true.

This jail to us is as a hill, 

From whence we plainly see

Beyond this world, and take our fill 

Of things that lasting be.

From hence we see the emptiness 

Of all the world contains;

And here we feel the blessedness 

That for us yet remains.

Here we can see how all men play 

Theirs parts, as on a stage -

How good men suffer for God's way, 

And bad men at them rage.

Here we can see who holds that ground 

Which they in Scripture find:

Here we see also who turns round 

Like weathercocks with wind.

We can also from hence behold 

How seeming friends appear

But hypocrites, as we are told 

In Scripture everywhere.

When we did walk at liberty 

We were deceiv'd by them,

Who we from hence do clearly see 

Are vile, deceitful men.

These politicians that profess 

For base and worldly ends,

Do not appear to us at best 

But Machiavellian friends.

Though men do say we do disgrace 

Ourselves by lying here

Among the rogues, yet Christ our face 

From all such filth will clear.

We know there's neither flout nor frown 

That we now for him bear,

But will add to our heavenly crown 

When he comes in the air -

When he our righteousness forth brings 

Bright shining as the day,

And wipeth off those sland'rous things 

That scorners on us lay.

We sell our earthly happiness 

For heavenly house and home;

We leave this world because 'tis less 

And worse than that to come.

We change our drossy dust for gold, 

From death to life we fly;

We let go shadows, and take hold 

Of immortality.

We trade for that which lasting is, 

And nothing for it give

But that which is already His 

By whom we breathe and live.

That liberty we lose for him 

Sickness might take away;

Our goods might also for our sin 

By fire or thieves decay.

Again we see what glory 'tis 

Freely to bear our cross

For Him who for us took up his 

When he our servant was.

I am most free that men should see 

A hole cut through my ear;

If others will ascertain me, 

They'll hang a jewel there.

Just thus it is: we suffer here 

For Him a little pain,

Who when he doth again appear 

Will with him let us reign.

If all must either die for sin 

A death that's natural,

Or else for Christ, 'tis best with him 

Who for the last doth fall.

Who now dare say we throw away 

Our goods or liberty,

When God's most holy word doth say 

We gain thus much thereby?

Hark yet again, you carnal men, 

And hear what I shall say

In your own dialect, and then 

I'll you no longer stay.

You talk sometimes of valour much, 

And count such bravely mann'd

That will not stick to have a touch 

With any in the land.

If these be worth commending, then, 

That vainly show their might,

How dare you blame those holy men 

That in God's quarrel fight?

Though you dare crack a coward's crown, 

Or quarrel for a pin,

You dare not on the wicked frown, 

Nor speak against their sin.

For all your spirits are so stout 

For matters that are vain,

Yet sin besets you round about; 

You are in Satan's chain.

You dare not for the truth engage, 

You quake at 'prisonment;

You dare not make the tree your stage 

For Christ, that King potent.

Know, then, true valour there doth dwell 

Where men engage for God

Against the Devil, death and hell, 

And bear the wicked's rod.

These be the men that God doth count 

Of high and noble mind;

These be the men that do surmount 

What you in nature find.

First, they do conquer their own hearts, 

All worldly fears, and then

Also the devil's fiery darts, 

And persecuting men.

They conquer when they thus do fall, 

They kill when they do die;

They overcome then most of all, 

And get the victory.

The worldling understands not this, 

'Tis clear out of his sight;

Therefore he counts this world his bliss, 

And doth our glory slight.

The lubber knows not how to spring 

The nimble footman's stage;

Neither can owls or jackdaws sing 

When they are in the cage.

The swine doth not the pearls regard, 

But them doth slight for grains,

Though the wise merchant labours hard 

For them with greatest pains.

Consider, man, what I have said, 

And judge of things aright;

When all men's cards are fully play'd, 

Whose will abide the light?

Will those who have us hither cast? 

Or they who do us scorn?

Or those who do our houses waste? 

Or us who this have borne?

And let us count those things the best 

That best will prove at last;

And count such men the only blest 

That do such things hold fast.

And what tho' they us dear do cost, 

Yet let us buy them so;

We shall not count our labour lost 

When we see others' woe.

And let saints be no longer blam'd 

By carnal policy,

But let the wicked be asham'd 

Of their malignity.