Contributor: Dr Sarah Ross
Description: From the manuscript miscellany of Elizabeth Bruce Boswell. Other MS contents: this MS is an early eighteenth-century miscellany of devotional papers in the hand of Elizabeth Bruce Boswell (1673-1734), the grandmother of Samuel Johnson's biographer. Boswell's father knew / knew of Elizabeth Melville. The MS also includes a poem that Boswell attributes to Margaret More Roper; an extract from Henry Jessey's life of Sarah Wight; and a number of items with a connection to Culross.
Source: Beinecke Rare Book and Manuscript Library, Yale University, Boswell Collection, Gen MSS 89, Series XV, Box 105, Folder 1925, item 5
Permissions: Not required
The following detached pieces wrote
by the hand of Lady Elizabeth Boswel
of Auchinleak are here bound up together
1 A Poem by a Young Lady to her Brother a Youth at a
2 A Poem by a Freind to a religious Lady
3 Coppy of a Letter by the Bp of Dumblane to George
Bruce of Carnock as to ye settlement of a Man in the
Parish of Culross. 1631.
4 Observations upon effectual Calling.
5 A Call to come to Christ a Poem by ye Lady Culross.
6 Coppy of a Devout Letter
7 Coppy of part of a Letter to a Lady under affliction
for the loss of her Husband.
8 Some of ye Articles of the Church of England concerning
9 Coppy of a devout Letter.
10 Cantique spirituelle de Monsr Poiret.
11 Anothr coppy of the same.
12 Moral reflections upon the Mysteries of Jesus Christ.
13 An exercise of Love.
14 A Consolatory Letter to a person under trouble
15 Confession of Christian Faith made at Constantinople 1585
16 Verses made by Sir Thomas Mores Dauttr when her
ffather was in Prison in Henry 8 time.
17 A few devout resolutions well expresst
18 Some of Lady Bettys own occurrences in two short papers
19 Account of ye Manner of Miss Mary Cochranes death.
20 Verses on ye death of Miss Mary Cochrane by Dr Cuthbert
^20 A Devout Letter^
21 Notes of Some of ye Revd Mr George Mairs Sermons He
was Minr of Culross
22 A poem by a Christian under desertion & distress of mind.
23 A Letter by James Nisbet Serjant in ye Castle of
Edr to a Young Lady, Extreamly devout
A call to come to Christ
^wrote by My Lady Culross^
Come live [with me] and be my love
And all these pleasurs thou shalt prove
That in my word hath warned thee
O loath this life and live with me
This life is but a blast of breath
Nothing so sure as dreadfull death
And since the time no man can know
Sett not thy love on things below
For things below will wear away
And beutie brave will soon decay
Look to that life that last for ever
And love the love that failes the[e] never
I never failed the[e] in thy need
I call I cry ye come with speed
Come near and gain a crown of Glore
Give me thy heart I seek no more
Thy heart is mine I bought it deir
Then send it not a whooring here
This lawless lust and love prophane
Such pleasures false shall end in pain
Should pleasures false pocesse thy heart
Since thou and they with pain must part
Then think upon these pleasures pure
That shall for ever more endure
For ever more a word of weight
Stand still and strive faint not to fight
And thou shall have that rich reward
That for the pure is now prepar’d
It is prepar’d in heaven above
By me thy King thy Lord and love
That for thy love tholl’d torments sore
Syne vanquished death and Reigns in Glore
And though I Reing in Glore for ever
Thy faithfull friend forgets the[e] never
But hath prepared a place for thee
Wher thou may reing in joy with me
In endless joy with me and lasting light
To sing amongst the Saints so bright
Wher thou may sitt and sweetly sing
A song of love to Christ thy King
Then Christ thy King shall thee embrace
Then thou shall see my blessed face
Then thou shall hear such harmonie
Which shall for sweetness ravish thee
Thow ravished with grace and Glore
Shall soon forget thy labours sore
Then thou shall see such heavenly sights
And feed upon such dear delights
Such dear delights cannot be told
As to thy eyes thou shalt behold
Then thou shall drink that living well
Which shall thy dwining drowth* expell
No ear hath heard, no heart can think
The sweetness that thy soul shall drink
Then thou shall feed on dainties dear
And fill thy soul with Angles chear
Then thou shall hear those pleasant songs
That to thy Lord and love belongs
dwining pining, wasting away; drowth drouth: thirst