Did not our Rock preserve us still,
Whose Spirit, ours animates,
That wind that bloweth where it will Iohn 3.8
Sweetly our soules refrigerates,
And so distructive heat abates.
From this our Rock proceeds likewise,
Those living streames, which graciously
Releives the soule which scorched lies,
Through sence of Gods displeasure high,
Due to her for inniquity.