Min. 
 PR 
 1191 
 S464 
 
 B
 
 Ex Libris 
 
 THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES
 
 \
 
 SELECT POETRY,
 
 PRINTED 
 B. SEELEY AND SOXS, WESTOV GREEK, 
 THAMES DITTON.
 
 Select lloettB. 
 
 Ci^icfln on Sufijccts 
 ^onnccteti toitj^ Bcltgion. 
 
 LONDON : 
 
 SEELEY AND W. BURNSIDE 
 L. B. SEELEY AND SONS, 
 FLEET STREET. 
 MDCCCXXX.
 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 AMELIA, PRINCESS I 
 
 ADDISON II IV 
 
 BARTON V 
 
 BEDDOME VI 
 
 BOWRING VII — XIII 
 
 BOWDLER XIV, XV 
 
 BURNS XVI 
 
 CENNICK XVII 
 
 COTTERILL , XVIII 
 
 COWPER XIX — XXXIX 
 
 CUNNINGHAM XL 
 
 305;i33G
 
 vi CONTENTS. 
 
 DALE XLI 
 
 DE FLEURY XLII 
 
 DODDRIDGE XLIII XLVII 
 
 DRYDEN XLVIII 
 
 FAWCETT XLIX 
 
 FRY (Caroline) l — liii 
 
 GAMBOLD LIV, LV 
 
 gilbert LVI 
 
 GRANT LVII, LVIII 
 
 GUION LIX, LX 
 
 HART LXI — LXIII 
 
 HEBER LXIV — LXVII 
 
 HEMANS LXVIII — LXX 
 
 HERBERT LXXI — LXXVI 
 
 HUIE LXXVII 
 
 KEEBLE LXXVIII — LXXXI 
 
 KELLY LXXXII — LXXXY 
 
 KING LXXXVI 
 
 KIRKE WHITE LXXXVII — LXXXI X 
 
 LUTHER XC
 
 CONTENTS. vii 
 
 LOGAN XCI, XCII 
 
 MARRIOTT XCIII 
 
 MADAN XCIV XCV 
 
 MII.LMAN XCVI — cm 
 
 MILTON CIV — CVI 
 
 MONTGOMERY CVII — CXIl 
 
 NEWTON CXIII CXVIII 
 
 NOEL CXIX — CXXI 
 
 OLIVER CXXII 
 
 QUARLES CXXIII, CXXIV 
 
 ROBINSON CXXV 
 
 ROSCOMMON CXXVI 
 
 SCOTT CXXVII 
 
 SPENSER CXXVIII 
 
 STEELE , . CXXIX — CXXXIl 
 
 SWAINE CXXXIII 
 
 TATE CXXXIV — CXXXVII 
 
 TAYLOR (jane) CXXXVIII 
 
 TOPLADY CXXXIX — CXLIX 
 
 WALLER CL
 
 viii CONTENTS. 
 
 WARING CLI, CLU 
 
 WATTS CLIII — CLVI 
 
 WESLEY CLVII CLXV 
 
 WOTTON CLXVl 
 
 ANONYMOUS CLXVIl — CLXXX
 
 SELECT POETRY. 
 
 ^nmtii Amelia. 
 
 I, 
 
 Unthinking, idle, wild, and youngr, 
 
 I laughed, and talked, and danced, and sung : 
 
 And, proud of health, of freedom vain, 
 
 Dreamed not of sorrow, care, or pain ; 
 
 Concluding in those hours of glee, 
 
 That all the world was made for me. 
 
 But when the days of trial came ; 
 When sickness shook this trembling frame ; 
 When foUy's gay pursuits were o'er. 
 And I could dance and sing no more ; 
 It then occurred, — how sad 'twould be. 
 Were this world only made for me !
 
 ^tJlJ^OU. 
 
 II. 
 
 How are thy servants blest, O Lord ! 
 
 How sure is their defence : 
 Eternal wisdom is their gxiide ; 
 
 Their help, omnipotence. 
 
 In foreign realms and lands remote, 
 
 Supported by Thy care. 
 Through burning climes I passed unhurt, 
 
 And breathed untainted air. 
 
 Thy mercy sweetened every soil. 
 
 Made every region please ; 
 The hoary Alpine hUls it warmed. 
 
 And smoothed the Tyrrhene seas. 
 
 Think, O my soul, devoutly think. 
 
 How with aflfrighted eyes, 
 Thou sawest the wide extended deep 
 
 In all its horrors rise !
 
 ADDISON. 
 
 Yet then, from all my griefs, O Lord, 
 
 Thy mercy set me free. 
 Whilst in the confidence of prayer, 
 
 My soul took hold on Thee. 
 
 For though in dreadful whirls we hung 
 
 High on the broken wave, 
 I knew Thou wert not slow to hear, 
 
 Nor impotent to save. 
 
 The storm was laid, the winds retired, 
 
 Obedient to Thy will ; 
 The sea that roared at Thy command. 
 
 At Thy command was still. 
 
 In midst of dangers, fears, and death, 
 
 Thy goodness I'U adore. 
 And praise Thee for Thy mercies past. 
 
 And hiunbly hope for more. 
 
 My life, if Thou preservest my life. 
 
 Thy sacrifice shaU be j 
 And death, when death must be my doom, 
 
 Shall join my soul to Thee.
 
 ADDISON. 
 
 in. 
 
 The spacious firmament on high. 
 
 With all the blue ethereal sky, 
 
 And spangled heavens, a shining frame, 
 
 Their great original proclaim. 
 
 Th' unwearied sun, from day to day. 
 
 Doth his Creator's power display. 
 
 And publishes to every land 
 
 The works of an Almighty hand. 
 
 Soon as the evening shades prevail. 
 The moon takes up the wondrous tale. 
 And nightly, to the listening earth. 
 Repeats the story of her birth ; 
 Whilst all the stars that rovmd her bum, 
 And all the planets in their turn 
 Confirm the tidings as they roU, 
 And spread the truth from pole to pole. 
 
 What though, in solemn silence, all 
 Move round this dark terrestrial ball ? 
 What though no real voice nor soimd 
 Amid their radiant orbs be found ? 
 In reason's ear they all rejoice. 
 And utter forth a glorious voice ; 
 For ever singing, as they shine, 
 "The hand that made us is divine."
 
 ADDISON. 
 
 IV. 
 
 When rising from the bed of death, 
 O'erwhehned with gTiilt and fear, 
 
 I see my Maker face to face,— 
 Oh ! how shall I appear ! 
 
 If now while pardon may be found, 
 
 And mercy may be sought. 
 My heart with inward horror shrinks. 
 
 And trembles at the thought : 
 
 When thou, O Lord ! shall stand disclosed 
 
 In majesty severe, 
 And sit in judgment on my soul, 
 
 Oh ! how shall I appear 1 
 
 Then see the sorrows of my heart, 
 
 Ere yet it be too late ; 
 And let my Saviour's dying groans. 
 
 Give aU those sorrows weight ! 
 
 For never shaU my soul despair. 
 
 Thy mercy to procure. 
 Who knows thy only Son has died 
 
 To make that pardon sure !
 
 ISarton. 
 
 Aroun'd Bethesda's healing' wave, 
 Waiting to hear the rustling wing 
 \\Tiich spoke the angel nigh, who gave 
 Its virtues to that holy spring,— 
 With earnest, fixed solicitude. 
 Were seen the afflicted multitude. 
 
 Among them there was one, whose eye 
 Had often seen the waters stirred, 
 WTiose heart had often heaved the sigh. 
 The bitter sigh of hope deferred j 
 Beholding, whUe he suffered on. 
 The healing virtue given,— and gone !
 
 BARTON. 
 
 No power had he ; no friendly aid 
 To him its timely succour brought 
 But while his coming he delayed. 
 Another won the boon he sought j— 
 Until the Savioui's love was shewn. 
 Which healed him by a word alone. 
 
 Had they who watched and waited there, 
 Been conscious who was passing by. 
 With what unceasing, anxious care 
 Would they have sought his pit3dng eye ; 
 And craved, with fervency of sovil, 
 His sovereign power, to make them whole. 
 
 But habit and tradition swayed 
 Their minds to trust to sense alone ; 
 They only sought the angel's aid j 
 WhUe in their presence stood, imknown, 
 A greater, mightier, far, than he. 
 With power from every pain to free. 
 
 Bethesda's pool has lost its power I 
 
 No angel, by his glad descent. 
 
 Dispenses that di^•iner dower 
 
 Which with its healing waters went : 
 
 — But He, whose word surpassed its wave. 
 
 Is still omnipotent to save.
 
 33ttJtfontt. 
 
 VI. 
 
 Wait ! O my soul, thy Maker's will ; 
 Tumultuous passions, aU be still ! 
 Nor let a murmuring thought arise ; 
 His ways are just, his counsels wise. 
 
 He in the thickest darkness dwells, 
 Performs his work,— the cause conceals ' 
 But though his methods are unknown. 
 Judgment and truth support his throne. 
 
 Wait ! then, my soul, submissive wait, 
 Prostrate before his awful seat ; 
 And, midst the terrors of his rod, 
 Trust in a wise and gracious God.
 
 33olunng. 
 
 VII. 
 
 Ol'r God is nigh; 
 
 He watches all we think or do : 
 Rolls o'er all time his penetrating eye, 
 
 And tracks the rovind our steps pursue. 
 
 By night, by day. 
 
 Waking or sleeping, — o'er the sea. 
 Up to the heaven,— where'er thou takest thy way, 
 
 Down to the grave,— He follows thee. 
 
 Thou can'st not hide 
 
 From Him thy weakness or thy strength. 
 His guardian angel tarries at thy side. 
 
 And guides thee to thy home at length.
 
 BOWRING. 
 
 The joys, the cares 
 
 "WTiich crowd our earthly being here, 
 He portions in his wisdom, and forbears 
 
 "VMien heavier than our strength can bear. 
 
 All we possess 
 
 Is His,— and all we hope for. His ; 
 Pilgrims of earth, His holy name we bless, 
 
 And look to heaven for peace and bliss. 
 
 vni. 
 
 The golden palace of my God 
 Towering above the clouds I see : 
 Beyond the cherubs' bright abode. 
 Higher than angels' thoughts can be. 
 How can I in those courts appear 
 Without a wedding garment on ? 
 Conduct me, Thou life-giver, there, 
 Conduct me to Thy glorious throne ! 
 And clothe me with thy robes of light, 
 And lead me through sin's darksome night. 
 My Saviour, and my God.
 
 BOWRING. 
 
 IX. 
 
 Our's is a lovely world ! where'er 
 We turn our eyes 'tis bright and fair. 
 The seasons in their courses fall. 
 And bring successive joys. The sea. 
 The earth, the sky, are full of thee. 
 Benignant, glorious, Lord of aU, 
 
 There's beauty in the break of day ; 
 There's glory in the noontide ray ; 
 There's sweetness in the twilight shades. 
 Magnificence in night.— Thy love 
 Arched yon grand heaven of blue above. 
 And all our snultug earth pervades. 
 
 How blest in thy benignity 
 The gladdened universe to see 
 Beautiful ever ! Thou alone. 
 Of beauty and of bUss the cause ; 
 While nature's light and nature's laws 
 Sprung from Thy mind, Eternal One, 
 
 And if thy effluence. Lord, be foimd 
 Streaming with radiance aU aroimd— 
 What must the glorious fountain be ! 
 In thee we'U hope — in thee confide j 
 Thou, mercy's never-ebbing tide : 
 Thou, love's unfathomable sea.
 
 BOWRING. 
 
 X. 
 
 My times are in Thy hand, and Thou 
 Wilt ^de my footsteps at thy will : 
 
 Lord ! to thy purposes I bow. 
 Do thou thy purposes fulfil. 
 
 Life's mighty waters roll along ; 
 
 Thy Spirit guides them as they roll : 
 And wa%'es on waves impetuous throng 
 
 At thy command, at thy control. 
 
 We, in the giant stream, are less, 
 Than dew drops rising o'er the sea; — 
 
 A ^iewless blank of nothingness 
 Amidst a vast infinity. 
 
 Yet in that orbit, while we move 
 
 Where beams thy radiance ; — while we share 
 In the sweet simshine of thy love. 
 
 We feel that we are something there : 
 
 And thus encouraged, look to thee. 
 And with a himibled, prostrate will, 
 
 Lord, in thy aU-suflSiciency 
 Would find a claim, to love thee still.
 
 BOWRING. 
 
 Man is not left untold, untaught, 
 Untrained by heaven to heavenly things ; 
 No ! every fleeting hour has brought 
 Lessons of wisdom on its wings ; 
 And every day bids solemn thought 
 Soar above earth's imaginings. 
 
 In life, in death, a voice is heard, 
 Speaking In heaven's own eloquence, 
 That calls on purposes deferred. 
 On wandering thought, on wildering sense. 
 And bids reflection, long interred, 
 Arouse from its Lndiflference, 
 
 The present, future, and the past, 
 It offers to our thoughtless eye ; 
 That present is too short to last- 
 That past is gone for ever by ; 
 That future comes — a stormy blast 
 That sweeps vis to eternity.
 
 BOWRING. 
 
 XII. 
 
 " He was there alone," when Even 
 Had round earth its mantle thrown ; 
 Holding intercourse with heaven, 
 " He was there, alone." 
 
 There his inmost heart's emotion 
 Made he to his Father known ; 
 In the spirit of devotion 
 
 Musing there * alone.' 
 
 So let us from earth retiring, 
 Seek our God and Father's throne. 
 And to other scenes aspiring, 
 
 Train our hearts ' alone.' 
 
 Thus when time its course hath ended. 
 And the joys of earth are flown, 
 We, by hope and bliss attended, 
 Shall not be ' alone.'
 
 BOWDLER. 
 
 XIII. 
 
 Oh I sweet and sacred is the rest, 
 Round the departed Christian's breast ; 
 Serene the pillow of his head, 
 And sanctified his funeral bed. 
 
 Upon his grave the moonlight beam 
 Shines smiling — and the dews on him 
 Fall soft as on the loveliest flower 
 That decks the field, or crowns the bower. 
 
 And if the sad and sorrowing tear 
 Be sometimes shed in sUence there ; 
 Religion's ray that tear shall light, 
 And make it as a dew drop bright. 
 
 Then on the earth's maternal breast 
 In peaceful hope and joy we'U rest; 
 And yield us to death's slumber deep 
 As infants calmly sink to sleep
 
 38oh)tJlev. 
 
 XIV. 
 
 ' Child of man, whose seed below, 
 Must fulfil their race of woe ; 
 Heir of want, and doubt, and pain, 
 Does thy fainting heart complain > 
 Oh ! in thought, one night recaJ, 
 —Night of grief in Herod's hall ; 
 There I bore the vengeance due. 
 Freely bore it all for you. 
 
 ' Child of dust, corruption's son. 
 By pride deceived, by pride undone. 
 Willing captive, yet be free, 
 Take my yoke, and learn of me. 
 I, of heaven and earth the Lord, 
 God with God, the eternal Word, 
 1 forsook my Father's side. 
 Toiled, and wept, and bled, and died.
 
 BOWDLER. 
 
 ' Child of doubt, does fear surprise, 
 Vexing thoughts within thee rise ; 
 Wondering, murmuring, dost thou gaze 
 On evil men and evil days .' 
 Oh ! if darkness round thee lour. 
 Darker far my dying hour, 
 "Which bade that fearful cry awake, 
 * My God, my Gtod, dost thou forsake ? 
 
 ' Child of sin, by guilt opprest. 
 Heaves at last that throbbing breast ? 
 Hast thou felt the mourner's part, 
 Fearest thou now thy failing heart ? 
 Bear thee on, beloved of God, 
 Tread the path thy Saviour trod ; 
 He the tempter's power hath known. 
 He hath poured the garden groan. 
 
 ' Child of heaven, by me restored. 
 Love thy Saviour, serve thy Lord ; 
 Sealed with that mysterious name. 
 Bear thy cross, and scorn the shame. 
 Then, like me, thy conflict o'er, 
 Thou Shalt rise to sleep no more ; 
 Partner of my purchased throne, 
 One in joy, in glory one."
 
 BOWDLER. 
 
 XV. 
 
 As, panting in the sultry beam. 
 The hart desires the cooling stream, 
 So to Thy presence, Lord, I flee. 
 So longs my soul, O God ! for Thee ; 
 Athirst to taste Thy living grace, 
 And see Thy glory face to face. 
 
 But rising griefs distress my soul. 
 
 And tears on tears successive roll : 
 
 For many an evil voice is near. 
 
 To chide my woe, and mock my fear ; 
 
 And silent memory -weeps alone. 
 
 O'er hours of peace and gladness flown. 
 
 For I have walked the happy round 
 That circles Zion's holy ground. 
 And gladly swelled the choral lays 
 That hymned my great Redeemer's praise, 
 What time the hallowed arch along 
 Responsive swelled the solemn song. 
 
 Ah ! why, by passing clouds opprest. 
 Should vexing thoughts distract my breast 
 Turn, turn to Him, in every pain. 
 Whom never suppliant sought in vain ; 
 Thy strength, in joy's ecstatic day. 
 Thy hope, when joy has past away.
 
 33untj{. 
 
 XVI. 
 
 The cheerful supper done, -with serious face, 
 
 They round the ingle form the circle wide ; 
 The Sire turns o'er, with patriarchal grace. 
 
 The big Ha' -Bible, once his father's pride : 
 His bonnet reverently is laid aside. 
 
 His lyart haffets wearing thin and bare ; 
 Those strains that once did sweet in Zion glide. 
 
 He wales a portion with judicious care ; 
 And '• Let us worship God ! " he says with solemn air. 
 
 They chaunt their artless notes in simple guise ; 
 
 They tune their hearts, by far the noblest aim ; 
 Perhaps Dundee's wild warbling measures rise. 
 
 Or plaintive Martyr's, worthy of the name ; 
 Or noble Elgin's fans the heaven-ward flame. 
 
 The sweetest far of Scotia's holy lays. 
 Compared with these, Italian trills are tame : 
 
 The tickled ears no heart-felt raptures raise ; 
 No unison have they with our Creator's praise.
 
 20 BURNS. 
 
 The priest-like father reads the sacred page, 
 
 How Abraham was the friend of God on high ; 
 Or, Moses bade eternal warfare wage 
 
 With Amalek's ungracious progeny ; 
 Or, how the royal bard did groaning lie 
 
 Beneath the stroke of heaven's avenging ire ; 
 Or, Job's pathetic plaint and wailing cry ; 
 
 Or, rapt Isaiah's wild, seraphic fire ; 
 Or other holy seers that tune the sacred lyre. 
 
 Perhaps the Christian volume is the theme. 
 
 How guiltless blood for guilty man was shed ; 
 How he, who niled in heaven with power supreme, 
 
 Had not on earth whereon to lay his head ; 
 How his first followers and servants sped ; 
 
 The precepts sage they wrote to many a land ; 
 How he, who lone in Patmos banished. 
 
 Saw in the Sun a mighty angel stand ; 
 And heard greatBabylon's doom pronounced by Heaven's 
 command. 
 
 Then, kneeling down, to Heaven's eternal King 
 
 The saint, the father, and the husband, prays : 
 Hope "springs exulting on triumphant wings," 
 
 That thus they all shall meet in future days, 
 There ever bask in uncreated rays. 
 
 No more to sigh, nor shed the bitter tear. 
 Together hymning their Creator's praise. 
 
 In such society, yet still more dear, 
 While circling time moves round in an eternal sphere.
 
 BURNS. 
 
 Compared with this, how poor religion's pride, 
 
 In all the pomp of method and of art. 
 When men display, to congregations wide. 
 
 Devotion's every grace except the heart ! 
 The Power, incensed, the pageant wUl desert. 
 
 The pompous train, the sacerdotal stole ; 
 But haply, in some cottage far apart. 
 
 May hear, well pleased, the language of the soul, 
 And in his book of life the inmates poor enrol.
 
 €mnick. 
 
 XVII. 
 
 Jesus, my all, to heaven is gone 
 He whom I fix my hopes upon ; 
 His path I see and I'll pursue 
 The narrow way, tiU Him I view. 
 
 This is the way the prophets went. 
 The way that leads from banishment j 
 The Bang's high-way of holiness. 
 The path of pleasantness and peace. 
 
 This is the way I long had sought. 
 And mourned because I foimd it not .; 
 My grief a bvirden long had been. 
 Oppressed with unbelief and sin.
 
 CENNICK. 
 
 The more I strove against their power, 
 1 sinned and stumbled but the more ; 
 TUl, late, I heard my Saviour say, 
 " Come hither, soul, I am the way." 
 
 Lo ! glad I come, and thou, blest lamb 
 Shalt take me to Thee as I am j 
 Nothing but sin I thee can give. 
 Nothing but love shall I receive. 
 
 Then will I teU to sinners round. 
 What a dear Saviour I have foimd ; 
 I'll point to thy redeeming blood. 
 And say, *' Behold the way to Ctod."
 
 Cotterill. 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 Oh, from the world's vile slavery. 
 
 Almighty Saviour, set me free, 
 
 And as my treasiire is above, 
 
 Be there my thoughts, be there my love. 
 
 But oft, alas ! too well I know. 
 
 My thoughts, my love, are fixed below, 
 
 In every lifeless prayer I find. 
 
 The heart immoved, the absent mind. 
 
 Oh, what that frozen heart can move. 
 That melts not at the Saviour's love ; 
 WTiat can that sluggish spirit raise. 
 That will not sing the Saviour's praise i
 
 COTTERILL. 
 
 Yet earthly pleasiire still hath charms ; 
 And earthly love my bosom warms : 
 Though cold my heart to love divine, 
 And cold, my bleeding Lord, to thine. 
 
 Lord, draw my best affections hence. 
 Above this world of sin and sense ; 
 Cause them to soax beyond the skies. 
 And rest not, till to Thee they rise.
 
 Cobpir. 
 
 XIX. 
 
 The path of sorrow, and that path alone. 
 Leads to the land where sorrow is unknown j 
 No traveller ever reached that blest abode. 
 Who found not thorns and briars in his road. 
 The world may dance along the flowery plain. 
 Cheered as they go by many a sprightly strain ; 
 Where nature has her mossy velvet spread. 
 With imshod feet they yet securely tread. 
 Admonished, scorn the caution and the friend. 
 Bent all on pleasure, heedless of its end : 
 But he, who knew what human hearts would prove. 
 How slow to learn the dictates of his love. 
 That, hard by nature and of stubborn wiU, 
 A life of ease would make them harder still,
 
 COWPER. 
 
 In pity to the souls his grace designed 
 To rescue from the ruins of mankind. 
 Called for a cloud to darken all their years. 
 And said, " Go, spend them in the vale of tears." 
 
 O balmy gales of soul-reviving air I 
 
 O salutary streams, that murmur there ! 
 
 These, flowing from the fount of grace above. 
 
 Those, breathed from lips of everlasting love. 
 
 The flinty soil indeed their feet annoys ; 
 
 Chill blasts of trouble nip their springing joys ; 
 
 An envious world will interpose its frown. 
 
 To mar delights superior to its own ; 
 
 And many a pang, experienced stUl within. 
 
 Reminds them of their hated inmate, sin : 
 
 But ills of every shape and every name. 
 
 Transformed to blessings, miss their cruel arm ; 
 
 And every moment's calm that soothes the breast, 
 
 Is given in earnest of eternal rest. 
 
 Ah, be not sad, although thy lot be cast 
 Far from the flock, and in a boimdless waste ! 
 No shepherds' tents within thy view appear. 
 But the chief shepherd even there is near ; 
 Thy tender sorrows and thy plaintive strain 
 Flow in a foreign land, but not in vain ; 
 Thy tears all issue from a source divine. 
 And every drop bespeaks a Saviour thine ;— 
 So once in Gideon's fleece the dews were found, 
 And drought on all the drooping herbs around.
 
 COWPER. 
 
 XX. 
 
 The Frenchman, first in literary fame, 
 With spirit, genius, eloquence, supplied. 
 Lived long, wrote much, laughed heartily, and died : 
 The Scripture was his jest-book, whence he drew 
 Bon mots to gaU the Christian and the Jew ; 
 An infidel in health, but what when sick ? 
 Oh — then a text would touch him to the quick : 
 View him at Paris in his last career. 
 Surrounding throngs the demigod revere ; 
 Exalted on his pedestal of pride. 
 And fumed with frankincense on every side, 
 He begs their flattery with his latest breath. 
 And smothered in't at last, is prais'd to death. 
 Yon cottager who weaves at her own door, 
 Pillow and bobbins aU her little store ; 
 Content though mean, and cheerful if not gay. 
 Shuffling her threads about the live-long day, 
 Just earns a scanty pittance, and at night 
 Lies down secure, her heart and pocket light j 
 She, for her hvunble sphere by nature fit. 
 Has little understanding and no wit, 
 Receives no praise, but, though her lot be such, 
 (ToUsome and indigent) she renders much ; 
 Just knows, and knows no more j her Bible true — 
 A truth the brilliant Frenchman never knew ;
 
 COWPER. 
 
 And in that charter reads with sparkling eyes 
 Her title to a treasure in the skies. 
 
 O happy peasant ! O unhappy bard ! 
 His the mere tinsel, her's the rich reward ; 
 He, praised, perhaps, for ages yet to come, 
 She, never heard of half a mUe from home : 
 He, lost in errors his vain heart prefers. 
 She, safe in the simplicity of her's. 
 
 XXI. 
 
 Pause here, and think : a monitory rhyme 
 Demands one moment of thy fleeting time. 
 
 Consult life's silent clock, thy bounding vein ; 
 Seems it to say — * Health here has long to reign ? ' 
 Hast thou the vigour of thy youth ? an eye 
 That beams delight ? a heart untaught to sigh ? 
 Yet fear : Youth, oft-times, healthful and at ease. 
 Anticipates a day it never sees : 
 And many a tomb, like Hamilton's, aloud 
 Exclaims, * Prepare thee for an early shroud.'—
 
 30 COWPER. 
 
 XXII. 
 
 He is the freeman whom the truth makes free. 
 And all are slaves beside ; there's not a chain. 
 That heUish foes, confederate for bis harm. 
 Can wind around him, but he casts it off 
 With as much ease as Samson his green withes. 
 He looks abroad into the varied field 
 Of nature, and though poor, perhaps, compared 
 With those whose mansions glitter in his sight, 
 Calls the delightful scenery all his own. 
 His are the motmtains, and the valleys his. 
 And the resplendent rivers. His t'enjoy 
 With a propriety that none can teU, 
 But who, with filial gratitude inspired. 
 Can Hft to heav'n an vmpresumptuous eye. 
 And smiling say—" My Father made them aU ! " 
 Are they not his by a peculiar right. 
 And by an emphasis of interest his. 
 Whose eye they fill with tears of holy joy, 
 "VSTiose heart with praise, and whose exalted mind 
 With worthy thoughts of that imwearied love. 
 That planned, and bmlt, and still upholds, a world
 
 COWPER. 
 
 XXIII. 
 
 Blinded in youth by Satan's arts. 
 The world to our unpractised hearts 
 
 A flattering prospect shows : 
 Our fancy forms a thousand schemes 
 Of gay delights, and golden dreams. 
 
 And undisturbed repose. 
 
 So in the desert's dreary waste. 
 By magic power produced in haste, 
 
 (As ancient fables say,) 
 Castles, and groves, and music sweet, 
 The senses of the traveller meet. 
 
 And stop him in his way : 
 
 But while he listens with surprise, 
 The charm dissolves, the vision dies, 
 
 'Twas but enchanted ground ; 
 Thus if the Lord otu: spirit touch. 
 The world, which promised us so much, 
 
 A wilderness is found. 
 
 At first we start, and feel distrest, 
 Convinced we never can have rest 
 
 In such a wretched place ; 
 But He whose mercy breaks the charm, 
 Reveals his own Almighty arm. 
 
 And bids us seek his face.
 
 COWPER. 
 
 Then we begin to love indeed, 
 When from our sin and bondage freed 
 
 By this beloved friend ; 
 We follow him from day to day, 
 Assured of grace through aU the way, 
 
 And glory at the end. 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 No longer I follow a sound, 
 No longer a dream I pursue. 
 
 happiness, not to be found 1 
 Unattainable treasure, adieu I 
 
 1 have sought thee in splendour and dress, 
 In the regions of pleasure and taste ; 
 
 I have sought thee, and seemed to possess, 
 But have proved thee a vision at last. 
 
 A humble ambition and hope. 
 The voice of true vrisdom inspires ; 
 'Tis suflacient, if peace be the scope 
 And summit of aU our desires. 
 
 Peace may be the lot of the mind 
 That seeks it in meekness and love. 
 But rapture and bliss are confined 
 To the glorified spirits above.
 
 COWPER. 
 
 Thankless for favours from on high, 
 Man thinks hd' fades too soon j 
 
 Though 'tis his privilege to die, 
 Would he improve the boon. 
 
 But he, not wise enough to scan 
 
 His best concerns aright. 
 Would gladly stretch life's little span 
 
 To ages, if he might :— 
 
 To ages, in a world of pain, — 
 
 To ages, where he goes 
 GaUed by affiction's heavy chain, 
 
 And hopeless of repose. 
 
 Strange fondness of the human heart, 
 
 Enamoured of its harm ! 
 Strange world, that costs it so much smart. 
 
 And still has power to charm. 
 
 Wlience has the world her magic power 
 
 Why deem we death a foe ? 
 Recoil from weary life's best hour. 
 
 And covet longer woe ? 
 o
 
 COWPER. 
 
 The cause is conscience ;— conscience oft 
 
 Her tale of gmlt renews ; 
 Her voice is terrible though soft. 
 
 And dread of death ensues. 
 
 Then, anxious to be longer spared, 
 Man mourns his fleeting breath : 
 
 All evUs then seem light, compared 
 With the approach of death. 
 
 'Tis judgment shakes him ; there's the fear. 
 That prompts the wish to stay : 
 
 He has inciured a long arrear. 
 And must despair to pay. 
 
 Pay !— follow Christ, and all is paid ; 
 
 His death your peace ensures ; 
 Think on the grave where he was laid. 
 
 And calm descend to your's.
 
 COWPER. 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 Jksus, where'er thy people meet. 
 There they behold thy mercy- seat ; 
 Where'er they seek thee thou art found, 
 And every place is hallowed ground. 
 
 For thou, within no walls confined, 
 Inhabitest the humble mind ; 
 Such ever bring thee where they come. 
 And going, take thee to their home. 
 
 Dear Shepherd of thy chosen few. 
 Thy former mercies here renew ; 
 Here to ovir waiting hearts proclaim 
 The sweetness of thy saving name. 
 
 Here may we prove the power of prayer. 
 To strengthen faith and banish care, 
 To teach our faint desires to rise, 
 And bring all heaven before our eyes. 
 
 Lord, we are few, but thou art nesir. 
 Nor short thine arm, nor deaf thine ear : 
 Oh ! rend the heavens, come quickly down, 
 And make a thousand hearts thine owti.
 
 36 COWPER. 
 
 XXVII. 
 
 Oh ! for a closer walk with God, 
 A calm and heavenly frame ; 
 
 A light, to shine upon the road 
 That leads me to the Lamb ! 
 
 Where is the blessedness I knew 
 When first I saw the Lord ? 
 
 Where is the soul-refreshing view 
 Of Jesus, and his word ? 
 
 ^^^lat peaceful hours I once enjoyed 1 
 How sweet their memory still ! 
 
 But they have left an siching void 
 The world can never fill. 
 
 Return, O holy Dove, return. 
 
 Sweet messenger of rest; 
 I hate the sins that made thee mourn. 
 
 And drove thee from my breast. 
 
 The dearest idol I have known, 
 
 Whate'er that idol be, 
 Help me to tear it from thy throne. 
 
 And worship only thee.
 
 COWPER. 37 
 
 So shall my walk be close with God, 
 
 Calm and serene my frame : 
 So purer light shall mark the road. 
 
 That leads me to the Lamb. 
 
 XXVIII. 
 
 Fierce passions discompose the mind 
 
 As tempests lash the sea ; 
 But calm content and peace we find 
 
 When, Lord, we turn to Thee. 
 
 In vain by reason and by rule 
 
 We try to bend the will ; 
 For none but in the Saviour's school 
 
 Can learn the heavenly skill. 
 
 Since at his feet I've prayed to wait. 
 
 And all his will to bear ; 
 Contented with my present state, 
 
 I cast on him my care. 
 
 Art thou a sinner, soul, he said. 
 Then how canst thou complain ? 
 
 How light thy troubles here, if weighed 
 With everlasting pain !
 
 COWPER. 
 
 If thou of murmuring would'st be cured, 
 Compare thy griefs with mine ; 
 
 Think what my love for thee endured. 
 And thou wilt not repine. 
 
 'Tis I appoint thy daily lot. 
 
 And I do aU things well : 
 Soon shall thou quit this gloomy scene. 
 
 And rise with me to dweU. 
 
 In life my grace shall strength supply 
 
 Proportioned to thy day. 
 In death thou still shalt find me nigh 
 
 To wipe thy tears away. 
 
 Thus I, who once my chequered hours 
 
 In vaia repining spent. 
 Taught in my Saviour's school of grace. 
 
 Have learned to be content.
 
 COWPER. 39 
 
 XXEX. 
 
 Far from the world, O Lord ! I flee, 
 From strife and tmmilt far; 
 
 From scenes where Satan wages still 
 His most successful war. 
 
 The calm retreat, the silent shade, 
 With prayer and praise agree : 
 
 And seem, by thy sweet bounty, made 
 For those who follow thee. 
 
 There if thy spirit touch the soul. 
 
 And grace her mean abode, 
 Oh ! with what peace, and joy, and love. 
 
 She communes with her God ! 
 
 There, like the nightingale, she pours 
 
 Her solitary lays ; 
 Nor asks a witness of her song. 
 
 Nor thirsts for human praise. 
 
 Author and Guardian of my life. 
 Sweet source of light divine; 
 
 And (aU harmonious names in one,) 
 My Saviour, thou art mine !
 
 COWPER. 
 
 What thanks I owe thee, and what love, 
 
 A boundless, endless store, 
 Shall echo through the realms above, 
 
 \Mien time shall be no more. 
 
 XXX. 
 
 God moves in a mysterious way. 
 
 His wonders to perform ; 
 He plants his footsteps in the sea. 
 
 And rides upon the storm. 
 
 Deep in unfathomable mines 
 
 Of never-failing skiU, 
 He treasures up his bright designs, 
 
 And works his sovereign wiU. 
 
 Ye fearful saints, fresh courage take, 
 The clouds ye so much dread 
 
 Are big with mercy, and shall break 
 In blessings on your head. 
 
 Judge not the Lord by feeble sense, 
 But trust him for his grace ; 
 
 Behind a frowning providence 
 He hides a smiling face.
 
 COWPER. 
 
 His ptirposes will ripen fast, 
 
 Unfolding every hour, 
 The bud may have a bitter taste, 
 
 But sweet will be the flower. 
 
 Blind tinbelief is sure to err, 
 And scan his work in vain ; 
 
 God is his own interpreter, 
 And he will make it plain . 
 
 XXXI. 
 
 There is a fountain filled with blood. 
 Drawn from Immanuel's veins ! 
 
 And sinners, plimged beneath that flood, 
 Lose aU their guilty stains. 
 
 The dying thief rejoiced to see 
 
 That fountain in his day ; 
 And there may I, as vile as he, 
 
 Wash all my sins away. 
 
 Dear dying Lamb ! thy precious blood 
 
 Shall never lose its power. 
 Till all the ransom'd church of God 
 
 Be saved, to sia no more.
 
 CO\NTER. 
 
 E'er since, by faith, I saw the stream 
 Thy flowing wounds supply, 
 
 Redeeming love has been my theme, 
 And shaU be tiU I die. 
 
 Then in a nobler, sweeter song, 
 
 I'll sing thy power to save ; 
 When this poor, lisping, stammering tongue 
 
 Lies silent in the grave. 
 
 Lord, I believe thou hast prepared, 
 
 Unworthy though I be. 
 For me a blood-bought free reward, 
 
 A golden harp for me ! 
 
 'Tis strung, and tuned, for endless years. 
 
 And formed by power divine. 
 To sound in God the Father's ears 
 
 No other name but thine.
 
 COWPER. 
 
 XXXII. 
 
 Hark, my soul ! it is the Lord ; 
 Tis thy Saviour, hear his word ; 
 Jesus speaks, and speaks to thee ; 
 Say, poor sinner,— lovest thou me ? 
 
 I delivered thee w^hen bound. 
 And, when woimded, healed thy wound ; 
 Sought thee wandering, set thee right. 
 Turned thy darkness into light. 
 
 Mine is an unchanging love, 
 Higher than the heights above ; 
 Deeper than the depths beneath ; 
 Free and faithful, strong as death. 
 
 Thou shall see my glory soon. 
 When the work of grace is done ; 
 Partner of my throne shall be : 
 Say, poor sinner,— lovest thou me i 
 
 Lord, it is my chief complaint. 
 That my love is weak and faint ; 
 Yet I love thee, and adore. 
 Oh ! for grace to love thee more !
 
 COWPER. 
 
 XXXIII. 
 
 O Lord, my best desire fulfil 
 
 And help me to resign 
 Life, health, and comfort, to thy will. 
 
 And make thy pleasure mine. 
 
 Why should I shrink at thy command. 
 Whose love forbids my fears ! 
 
 Or tremble at the gracious hand 
 That wipes away my tears ? 
 
 No ; rather let me freely yield 
 What most I prize, to thee ; 
 
 Wlio never has a good withheld, 
 Or wilt withhold, from me. 
 
 Thy favour, all my journey through, 
 Thou art engaged to grant; 
 
 What else I want, or think I do, 
 'Tis better still to want. 
 
 Wisdom and mercy gnide my way ; 
 Shall I resist them both ? 
 The poor bUnd creature of a day 
 And crushed before the moth.
 
 COWPER. 
 
 But ah ! my inward spirit cries, 
 
 Still bind me to thy sway ; 
 Else the next cloud that veils my skies. 
 
 Drives aU these thoughts away. 
 
 XXXIV. 
 
 Weak and irresolute is man ; 
 
 The purpose of to-day, 
 Woven with pains into his plan. 
 
 Tomorrow rends away. 
 
 The bow well bent, and smart the spring, 
 
 Vice seems already slain; 
 But passion rudely snaps the string. 
 
 And it revives again. 
 
 Some foe to his upright intent 
 Finds out his weaker part j 
 
 Virtue engages his assent. 
 But pleasure wins his heart. 
 
 'Tis here the foUy of the wise 
 
 Tlu-ough aU his art we view ; 
 And while his tongue the charge denies, 
 
 His conscience owns it true.
 
 46 COWPER. 
 
 Bound on a voyage of awful length, 
 And dangers little known, 
 
 A stranger to superior strength, 
 Man vainly trusts his own. 
 
 But oars alone can ne'er prevail. 
 
 To reach the distant coast ; 
 The breath of heaven must swell the sail, 
 
 Or all the toil is lost. 
 
 XXXV. 
 
 When darkness long has veUed my mind. 
 And smiling day once more appears. 
 
 Then, my Redeemer, then I find. 
 The foUy of my doubts and fears. 
 
 Straight I upbraid my wandering heart, 
 And blush that I should ever be 
 
 Thus prone to act so base a part. 
 Or harbour one hard thought of thee. 
 
 Oh ! let me then at length be taught 
 What I am stiU so slow to learn. 
 
 That Gk)d is love, and changes not 
 Nor knows the shadow of a turn. 
 
 i
 
 COWPER. 47 
 
 Sweet truth, and easy to repeat, 
 But when my faith is sharply tried, 
 
 I find myself a learner yet, 
 Unskilful, weak, and apt to slide 
 
 But, O my Lord, one look from thee. 
 
 Subdues the disobedient will. 
 Drives doubt and discontent away. 
 
 And thy rebellious worm is still. 
 
 Thou art as ready to forgrive. 
 
 As I am ready to repine ; 
 Thou, therefore, aU the praise receive ; 
 
 Be shame, and self-abhorrence mine. 
 
 XXXVI. 
 
 To Jesus, the crown of my hope, 
 My soul is in haste to be gone : 
 O bear me, ye cherubim, up. 
 And waft me away to his throne. 
 
 My Saviour, whom absent, I love 3 
 Whom, not having seen, I adore ; 
 Whose name is exalted above 
 All glory, dominion, and power :
 
 COWPER. 
 
 Dissolve thou these bonds, that detain 
 My soul from her portion in thee ; 
 Ah ! strike off this adamant chain. 
 And make me eternally free. 
 
 When that happy era begins, 
 WTien arrayed in thy glories I shine. 
 Nor grieve any more by my sins. 
 The bosom on which I recline : 
 
 then shall the veil be removed, 
 
 And round me thy brightness be poured : 
 
 1 shall meet him whom absent I loved, 
 I shall see whom unseen I adored. 
 
 And then, never more shall the fears. 
 The trials, temptations, and woes, 
 AMiich darken this valley of tears, 
 Intrude on my blissful repose.
 
 COWPER. 49 
 
 XXXVII. 
 
 God of my life, to thee I call. 
 Afflicted at thy feet I fall ; 
 When the great water-floods prevail. 
 Leave not my trembling heart to fail ! 
 
 Friend of the friendless and the faint ! 
 Where should I lodge my deep complaint >. 
 Where but with thee, whose open door 
 Invites the helpless and the poor ? 
 
 Did ever mourner plead with thee, 
 And thou refuse that mourner's plea ? 
 Does not that word still fixed remain. 
 That none shall seek thy face in vain ? 
 
 Tliat were a grief I could not bear, 
 Didst thou not hear and answer prayer ; 
 But a prayer hearing, answering God, 
 Supports me under every load. 
 
 Fair is the lot that's cast for me, 
 1 have an advocate Math thee ; 
 They whom the world caresses most. 
 Have no such privilege to boast. 
 
 B
 
 50 COWPER. 
 
 Poor though I am, despised, forgot. 
 Yet God, my God, forgets me not ; 
 And he is safe, and must succeed, 
 For whom the Lord vouchsafes to plead. 
 
 XXXVIII. 
 
 What various hindrances we meet 
 In coming to a mercy-seat ! 
 Yet who that knows the worth of prayer, 
 But wishes to be often there. 
 
 Prayer makes the darkened cloud withdraw, 
 Prayer climbs the ladder Jacob saw. 
 Gives exercise to faith and love. 
 Brings every blessing from above. 
 
 Restraining prayer, we cease to fight j 
 Prayer makes the Christian's armour bright : 
 And Satan trembles when he sees 
 The weakest saint upon his knees. 
 
 While Moses stood with arms spread wide, 
 Success was found on Israel's side ; 
 But when through weariness they failed. 
 That moment Amalek prevailed.
 
 COWPER. 
 
 Have you no words ? ah I think again. 
 Words flow apace when you complain. 
 And fill your fellow-creature's ear 
 With the sad tale of aU your care. 
 
 Were half the breath thus vainly spent. 
 To heaven in supplication sent. 
 Your cheerful song would oftener be, 
 " Hear what the Lord has done for me. 
 
 XXXIX. 
 
 No strength of Nattire can suffice 
 To serve the Lord aright; 
 
 And what she has she misapplies. 
 For want of clearer light. 
 
 How long beneath the law I lay 
 In bondage and distress ! 
 
 And toiled, the precept to obey- 
 But toiled without success. 
 
 Then, to abstain from outward sin 
 Was more than I could do ; 
 
 Now, if I feel its power within, 
 I feel I hate it too.
 
 52 COWPER. 
 
 Then, all my servile works were done 
 A righteoiisness to raise ; 
 
 Now, freely chosen in the Son, 
 I freely choose his ways. 
 
 What shall I do, was then the word. 
 That I may worthier grow ? 
 
 What shall I render to the Lord 
 Is my inquiry now. 
 
 To see the law by Christ fulfilled 
 And hear his pardoning voice. 
 
 Changes a slave into a child. 
 And duty into choice.
 
 Cunning]^ am* 
 
 XL. 
 
 Dear is the hallowed mom to me, 
 When village bells awake the day ; 
 And, by their sacred minstrelsy. 
 Call me from earthly cares away. 
 
 And dear to me the winged horn-. 
 Spent in thy hallowed courts, O Lord I 
 To feel devotion's soothing power. 
 And catch the manna of thy word. 
 
 And dear to me the loud Amen, 
 Which echoes through the blest abode. 
 Which swells and sinks, and swells again. 
 Dies on the walls, but lives to God.
 
 54 CUNNINGHAM. 
 
 And dear the rustic harmony, 
 Simg -with the pomp of village art \ 
 That holy, heavenly melody. 
 The music of a thankful heart. 
 
 In secret I have often prayed. 
 
 And stUl the anxious tear would fall ; 
 
 But on thy sacred altar laid. 
 
 The fire descends, and dries them all. 
 
 Oft when the world, with iron hands. 
 
 Has bound me in its six-days chain. 
 
 This bursts them, like the strong man's bands. 
 
 And lets my spirit loose again. 
 
 Then dear to me the Sabbath mom. 
 The village bells, the shepherd's voice ; 
 These oft have found my heart forlorn. 
 And always bid that heart rejoice. 
 
 Go, man of pleasure, strike thy l)Te, 
 Of broken Sabbaths sing the charms. 
 Ours be the prophet's car of fire. 
 That bears us to a Father's arms.
 
 I9ale. 
 
 XLI. 
 
 Dkar as thou wert, and justly dear, 
 
 I would not weep for thee ; 
 One thought shaU check the starting tear. 
 
 It is— that thou art free. 
 
 And thus shall faith's consoling power 
 
 The tears of love restrain ; 
 Oh 1 who that saw thy parting hour 
 
 Could wish thee here again I 
 
 Gently the passing spirit fled. 
 Sustained by grace divine : 
 
 Oh ! may such grace on me be shed. 
 And make my end like thine.
 
 Bt dTIntrj). 
 
 XLII. 
 
 Ye angels who stand round the throne, 
 And view my Emmanuel's face, 
 In rapturous songs make him known 
 Tune, tune your soft harps to his praise : 
 He formed you the spirits you are, 
 So happy, so noble, so good ; 
 WTien others sunk down in despair, 
 Confirmed by his power ye stood. 
 
 Ye saints who stand nearer than they, 
 And cast your bright crowns at his feet. 
 His grace and his glory display. 
 And all his rich mercy repeat : 
 He snatched you from hell and the grave. 
 He ransomed from death and despair j 
 For you he was mighty to save. 
 Almighty to bring you safe there. 
 
 i
 
 DE FLEURY. 57 
 
 Oh ! when will the period appear. 
 When I shall unite in your song i 
 I'm weary of lingering here, 
 And I to your Saviour belong ! 
 I'm fettered and chained up in clay, 
 I struggle and pant to be free ; 
 I long to be soaring away. 
 My Grod and my Saviour to see ! 
 
 I want to put on my attire, 
 
 Washed white in the blood of the Lamb : 
 
 I want to be one of your choir. 
 
 And tune my sweet harp to his name : 
 
 I want— O I want to be there, 
 
 Where sorrow and sin bid adieu : 
 
 Your joy and your friendship to share, 
 
 To wonder and worship with you !
 
 l^otJtJnllSe. 
 
 XLIII. 
 
 And will the Judge descend ? 
 And must the dead arise ? 
 And not a single soul escape 
 His all-discerning eyes > 
 
 How wiU thy heart endure 
 The terrors of that day ; 
 When earth and heaven before his face, 
 Astonished, shrink away i 
 
 Fly, then, to seek his grace. 
 Whose wrath thou can'st not bear ; 
 Fly to the shelter of his cross. 
 And find salvatiou there.
 
 DODDRIDGE. 
 
 XLIV. 
 
 Lord of the Sabbath, hear our vows. 
 On this thy day, in this thine house ; 
 Arid own, as grateful sacrifice. 
 The songs which from the desert rise. 
 
 Thine earthly Sabbaths, Lord, we love : 
 But there's a nobler rest above ; 
 To that our labouring souls aspire 
 With ardent hope and strong desire. 
 
 No more fatigue, no more distress. 
 Nor sin, nor death, shall reach that place j 
 No tears shall mingle with the songs 
 That warble from immortal tongues. 
 
 No rude alarms of raging foes. 
 No cares to break the long repose, 
 No midnight shade, no clouded sun, — 
 But sacred, high, eternal noon. 
 
 O long expected day, begin ; 
 Dawn on these realms of woe and sin ; 
 Fain would we leave this weary road. 
 And sleep in death, to rest with God.
 
 (50 DODDRIDGE. 
 
 XLV. 
 
 Remark, my soul, the narrow bounds 
 
 Of the revolving year ; 
 How swift the weeks complete their rounds, 
 
 How short the months appear! 
 
 So fast eternity comes on, 
 
 And that important day. 
 When all that mortal life has done, 
 
 God's judgment shall survey. 
 
 Yet like an idle tale we pass 
 
 The swift advancing year; 
 And study artful ways t'increase 
 
 The speed of its career. 
 
 Waken, O God, this trifling heart. 
 
 It's great concern to see ; 
 That I may act the Christian part. 
 
 And give the year to thee. 
 
 So shall their course more grateful roll, 
 
 If future years arise ; 
 Or this shall bear my joyful soul 
 
 To bliss that never dies.
 
 DODDRIDGE. 
 
 XLVI. 
 
 Do not I love Thee, O my Lord i 
 Behold my heart and see, 
 
 And turn each hateful idol out 
 That dares to rival thee. 
 
 Do not I love thee from my soul 
 Then let me nothing love ; 
 
 Dead be my heart to every joy. 
 When Jesus cannot move. 
 
 Is not thy name melodious still, 
 
 To mine attentive ear, — 
 Doth not each pulse with pleasure bound, 
 
 My Saviour's voice to hear ? 
 
 Hast thou a lamb in all thy flock, 
 
 I would disdain to feed ; 
 Hast thou a foe before whose face 
 
 I fear thy cause to plead ? 
 
 Would not my heart pour forth its blood 
 
 In honour of thy name ; 
 And challenge the cold hand of death. 
 
 To damp the immortal flame ?
 
 62 DODDRIDGE. 
 
 Thou knowest I love thee, dearest Lord, 
 
 But Oh, I long to soar. 
 Far from the sphere of mortal joys, 
 
 And learn to love thee more. 
 
 XLVII. 
 
 Seset ■with snares on every hand. 
 In life's uncertain path I stand ; 
 Saviour divine, diffuse thy light. 
 To gxiide my doubtful footsteps right. 
 
 O may this roving treacherous heart 
 Like Mary choose the better part. 
 And scorn the trifles of a day. 
 For joys that none can take away. 
 
 Then let the wildest storms arise. 
 Let tempests mingle earth and skies. 
 No fatal shipwreck shall I fear. 
 But all my treasures with me bear. 
 
 If Thou, my Jesus, still be nigh 
 Cheerful I live and joyftd die. 
 Secure, when mortal comforts flee. 
 To find ten thousand worlds in Thee.
 
 ilir»trm. 
 
 XLVIII. 
 
 Creator Spirit, by whose aid 
 The worid's foundations first were laid. 
 Come visit every humble mind ; 
 Come pour Thy joys on himian kind ; 
 From sin and sorrow set us free. 
 And make Thy temples worthy Thee. 
 
 O source of uncreated light. 
 The Father's promised Paraclete ! 
 Tluice holy fount, thrice holy fire. 
 Our hearts with heavenly love inspire j 
 Come, and Thy sacred imction bring. 
 To sanctify us, while we suig.
 
 DRYDEN. 
 
 Plenteous of grace, descend from high, 
 
 Rich in Thy sevenfold energy! 
 
 Thou strength of His Almighty hand, 
 
 Whose power doth heaven and earth command. 
 
 Proceeding Spirit, our defence, 
 
 "Who doth the gift of tongues dispense, 
 
 And crown'st thy gift with eloquence. 
 
 Refine and purge our earthly parts ; 
 But, oh, inflame and fire our hearts ! 
 Our frailties help, our wiUs control. 
 Submit the senses to the soul; 
 And when rebellious they are grown, 
 Then lay Thy hand, and hold them down. 
 
 Chase from our muids the infernal foe, 
 And peace, the fruit of love, bestow ; 
 And lest our feet should step astray. 
 Protect and guide us in the way. 
 Make us eternal truths receive. 
 And practise all that we beUeve : 
 Give us Thyself, that we may see 
 The Father, and the Son, by Thee. 
 
 Immortal honor, endless fame. 
 Attend the Almighty Father's name ; 
 The Saviour Son be glorified. 
 Who for lost man's redemption died : 
 And equal adoration be. 
 Eternal Paraclete, to Thee. 
 
 I
 
 dTatocitt. 
 
 XLIX. 
 
 Thy way, O Lord, is in the sea ; 
 
 Thy paths I cauxnot trace ; 
 Nor comprehend the mystery 
 
 Of thine unbounded grace. 
 
 Here, the dark veils of flesh and sense 
 
 My captive soul svirround ; 
 Mysterious deeps of providence 
 
 My wandering thoughts confound. 
 
 When I behold thine awful hand 
 
 My earthly hopes destroy. 
 In deep astonishment I stand. 
 
 And ask the reason why ? 
 
 V
 
 FAWCETT. 
 
 As through a glass I dimly see 
 The wonders of thy love ; 
 
 How little do I know of thee, 
 Or of the joys above ! 
 
 "Tis but in part I know thy will ; 
 
 I bless thee for the sight :— 
 When win thy love the rest rev^. 
 
 In glory's clearer light i 
 
 With rapture shall I then survey 
 Thy providence and grace ; 
 
 And spend an everlasting day 
 In wonder, love, and praise.
 
 Caroline ;ffxvf. 
 
 L. 
 
 The grare is not a place of rest. 
 
 As unbelievers teach, 
 Where grief can never win a tear, 
 
 Nor sorrow never reach. 
 
 The eye that shed the tear is closed, 
 
 The heaving breast is cold ; 
 But that which suffers and enjoys. 
 
 No narrow grave can hold. 
 
 The mo\Tldering earth and hungry worm, 
 The dust they lent may claim ; 
 
 But the enduring spirit lives 
 Eternally the same.
 
 68 CAROLINE FRY. 
 
 LI. 
 
 Faith, like a simple, unsuspecting child, 
 Serenely resting on its mother's arm. 
 
 Reposing every care upon her God, 
 Sleeps on his bosom, and expects no harm : 
 
 Receives with joy the promises he makes. 
 Nor questions of his purpose or his power j 
 
 She does not doubting ask, " Can this be so > '■ 
 The Lord has said it, and there needs no more. 
 
 However deep be the mysterious word. 
 However dark, she disbelieves it not ; 
 
 Where Reason would examine. Faith obeys. 
 And " It is written," answers every doubt. 
 
 In vain, with rude and overwhelming force. 
 Conscience repeats her tale of misery; 
 
 And powers infernal, wakeful to destroy. 
 Urge the worn spirit to despair and die. 
 
 As evening's pale and solitary star 
 
 But brightens whUe the darkness gathers round , 
 So Faith, unmoved amidst surrounding storms. 
 
 Is fairest seen in darkness most profoimd.
 
 CAROLINE FRY. 69 
 
 LII. 
 
 Grace does not steel the faithful heart, 
 
 That it should know no iU ; 
 We learn to kiss the chastening rod, 
 
 And feel its sharpness stUl. 
 
 But how unlike the Christian's tears, 
 To those the world must shed! 
 
 His sighs are tranquil and resigned 
 As the heart from which they sped. 
 
 The saint may be compelled to meet 
 
 Misfortune's saddest blow ; 
 His bosom is alive to feel 
 
 The keenest pang of woe : 
 
 But, ever as the wound is given. 
 
 There is a hand unseen. 
 Hasting to wipe away the scar, 
 
 And hide where it has been. 
 
 The Christian would not have his lot 
 
 Be other than it is ; 
 For, while his Father rules the world. 
 
 He knows that world is his.
 
 CAROLINE FRY. 
 
 He knows that he who gave the best, 
 
 Will give him aU beside j 
 Assured each seeming good he asks 
 
 Is evil, if denied. 
 
 When clouds of sorrow gather round, 
 
 His bosom owns no fear ; 
 He knows, where'er his portion be. 
 
 His God wiU still be there. 
 
 And when the threatened storm has burst, 
 
 WTiate'er the trial be, 
 Something yet whispers him within, 
 
 ' Be still, for it is He ! ' 
 
 Poor nature, ever weak, will shrink 
 
 From the afflictive stroke j 
 But faith disclaims the hasty plaint 
 
 Impatient nature spoke. 
 
 His grateful bosom quickly learns 
 
 Its sorrows to disown ; 
 Yields to His pleasure, and forgets 
 
 The choice was notjiis own.
 
 CAROLINE FRY. 
 
 LIII. 
 
 Ask the bird that soars on high, 
 Midway between earth and sky, 
 What he sees, when he is there. 
 Of the world's receding sphere. 
 
 He could teach, if he might say, 
 Heavenward as he bends his way. 
 How the wide world lessens fast, 
 In the growing distance lost. 
 
 Lesser objects lost to view. 
 Great ones are but little now- 
 All that once were bright and fair. 
 Lose their tints and disappear. 
 
 Doubt you, then, why they who rise 
 Near and nearer to the skies. 
 See on earth's diminished sphere. 
 Little that is worth their care ? 
 
 They whose bosoms once coidd joy 
 In the vain world's vainest toy — 
 They whose hearts could sometime feel 
 ,E'en the slightest touch of ill—
 
 72 CAROLINE FRY. 
 
 From the world by sorrow riven. 
 Gone eilready half to heaven- 
 Look with calmness on a scene, 
 Scarcely now within their ken. 
 
 Deem not that the heart is chilled. 
 Which, though once with anguish filled, 
 Such emotions aU forgot. 
 Can smile and say, * It matters not.'
 
 ^amboltr. 
 
 LIV. 
 
 So many years I've seen the sun, 
 
 And called these hands and eyes my own, 
 A thousand little acts I've done. 
 
 And childhood have, and manhood known ; 
 Oh! what is life! and this dvdl round 
 To tread, why was a spirit bound » 
 
 So many airy draughts and lines. 
 And vain exertions of the mind. 
 
 Have filled my soul with great designs, 
 While practice grovelled far behind : 
 
 O what is thought! and where withdraw 
 
 The glories which my fancy saw ?
 
 74 GAMBOLD. 
 
 So many tender joys and woes 
 Have on my quivering soul had power ; 
 
 Plain life with heightening passions rose. 
 The boast or burden of their hour : 
 
 O what is all we feel ! why fled 
 
 Those pains and pleasures o'er my head ? 
 
 So many human souls divine 
 
 So at one interview displayed. 
 Some oft and freely mixed with mine, 
 
 In lasting bands my heart have laid : 
 O what is friendship ! why imprest 
 On my weak, wretched, dying breast r 
 
 So many wond'rous gleams of light, 
 And gentle ardours from above, 
 
 Have made me sit, like seraph bright. 
 Some moments on a throne of love : 
 
 O what is virtue ! why had I, 
 
 Who am so low, a taste so high ? 
 
 Ere long, when sovereign wisdom vnils. 
 My soul an unknown path shall tread, 
 
 And strangely leave, which strangely fills 
 This frame, and waft me to the dead : 
 
 O what is death ! — 'tis life's last shore. 
 
 Where vanities are vain no more ; 
 
 ^^^lere all pursuits their goal obtain. 
 
 And life is all retouched again ; 
 
 Where in their bright resvdts shall rise. 
 
 Thoughts, virtues, friendships, griefs, and joys
 
 GAMBOLD. 75 
 
 LV. 
 
 That I am thine, my Lord and God ! 
 Sprinkled and ransomed by thy blood j 
 Repeat that word once more. 
 With such an energy and light. 
 That this world's flattery or spite 
 To shake me never may have power. 
 
 From various cares, my heart retires ; 
 Though deep and boundless its desires, 
 I'm now to please but One : 
 He before whom the elders bow. 
 With Him is all my business now. 
 And with the souls that are his own. 
 
 This is my joy (which ne'er can faU,) 
 To see my Saviour's arm prevail ; 
 To mark the steps of grace ; 
 How new-bom souls, convinced of sin, 
 His blood revealed to them within, 
 Extol my Lord in every place. 
 
 With these my happy lot is cast : 
 
 Through the world's deserts, rude and waste. 
 
 Or through its gardens fair ; 
 
 Whether the storm of malice sweeps. 
 
 Or all in dead supineness sleeps ; 
 
 Still to go on be my whole care.
 
 76 GAMBOLD. 
 
 See ! the dear flock by Jesus drawn. 
 In blest simplicity move on ; 
 They trust his shepherds' crook. 
 Beholders many faults wiU find, 
 But they can tell their Saviour's mind ; 
 Content, if written in his book. 
 
 No, my dear Lord, in following thee, 
 Not in the dark, xmcertainly, 
 This foot obedient moves : 
 Tis with a brother and a king. 
 Who many to his yoke will bring, 
 Who ever lives and ever loves. 
 
 Now then, my way, my truth, my life ! 
 Henceforth let sorrow, doubt, and strife 
 Drop off, like autumn leaves ; — 
 Henceforth, as privileged by thee. 
 Simple and undistracted be 
 My soul, which to thy sceptre cleaves.
 
 (filbert. 
 
 LVI. 
 
 Thou, who didst for Peter's faith 
 Kindly condescend to pray ; 
 Thou, whose loving kindness hath 
 Kept me to the present day ; 
 Kind conductor, 
 Still direct my devious way. 
 
 When a tempting world in view 
 Gains upon my yielding heart. 
 When its pleasures I pursue. 
 Then one look of pity dart. 
 Teach me pleasures 
 Which the world can ne'er impart.
 
 78 GILBERT. 
 
 ^Tien with horrid thoughts profane 
 Satan would my sovil invade, 
 WTien he calls religion vain, 
 Mighty victor ! be my aid : 
 Send thy spirit, 
 Bid me conflict undismayed. 
 
 When my unbelieving fear 
 Makes me think myself too vile 
 WTien the legal curse I hear. 
 Cheer me with a gospel smile j 
 Or if hiding, 
 Hide thou only for a whUe. 
 
 \Vhile I sit, beneath thy word. 
 At thy table, cold and dead, 
 "\Mien I cannot see my Lord, 
 All my little day-light fled. 
 Sun of glory. 
 Beam again around my head. 
 
 "VNTien thy statutes I forsake, 
 "UTien my graces dimly shine, 
 TSTien the covenant I break- 
 Jesus, then remember thine ! 
 Check my wanderings 
 By a look of love divine.
 
 GILBERT. 79 
 
 Then, if heavenly dews distil, 
 If my hopes are bright and clear, 
 WhUe I sit on Zion's hill. 
 Temper joy with holy fear ; 
 Keep me watchful. 
 Safe alone when thou art near. 
 
 When afflictions cloud my sky. 
 When the tide of sorrow flows, 
 ■VMien thy rod is lifted high. 
 Let me on thy love repose : 
 Stay thy rough wind 
 WTien thy chilling eastern blows. 
 
 When the vale of death appears, 
 (Faint and cold this mortal clay) 
 Kind Forerunner, sooth my fears, 
 Light me tlirough the darksome way 
 Break the shadows. 
 Usher in eternal day. 
 
 Starting from this dying state. 
 Upward let my soul aspire. 
 Open thou the crystal gate. 
 To thy praise attune my lyre : 
 Dwell for ever. 
 Dwell on each immortal wire.
 
 GILBERT. 
 
 From the sparkling turrets there. 
 Oft I'll trace my pilgrim way, 
 Often bless thy guardian care. 
 Fire by night, and cloud by day ; 
 While my triimiphs 
 At my leader's feet I'll lay. 
 
 And when mighty tnmipets blown, 
 Shall the judgment dawn proclaim. 
 From the central burning throne, 
 'Mid creation's final flame. 
 With the ransomed, 
 Judge and Saviour, own my name.
 
 (©rant. 
 
 LVII. 
 
 When gathering clouds around 1 view. 
 And days are dark, and friends are few ; 
 On him I lean, who, not in vain. 
 Experienced every human pain : 
 He sees my griefs, allays my fears. 
 And counts and treasures up my tears. 
 
 If ought should tempt my soul to stray 
 From heavenly wisdom's narrow way. 
 To fly the good I would pursue, 
 Or do the thing I would not do ; 
 Still he who felt temptation's power, 
 WUl guard me in that dangerous hour. 
 
 G
 
 GRANT. 
 
 If wounded love my bosom swell, 
 Despised by those I prized too well ; 
 He shall his pitying aid bestow. 
 Who felt on earth severer woe ; 
 At once betrayed, denied, or fled. 
 By those who shared his daily bread. 
 
 When vexing thoughts within me rise. 
 And, sore dismayed, my spirit dies ; 
 Yet, He, who once vouchsafed to bear 
 The sickening anguish of despair, 
 ShaU sweetly sooth, shall gently dry, 
 The throbbtag heart, the streaming eye. 
 
 When mourning o'er some stone I bend, 
 Which covers all that was a friend ; 
 And from his voice, his hand, his smile. 
 Divides me for a little while j 
 Thou, Saviour, mark'st the tears I shed, 
 For thou didst weep o'er Lazarus dead. 
 
 And Oh ! when I have safely past 
 Through every- conflict but the last; 
 Still, still unchanging, watch beside 
 My painful bed,— for thou hast died j 
 Then point to realms of cloudless day. 
 And wipe the latest tear away.
 
 GRANT. 
 
 LVIII. 
 
 Saviour ! when in dust to thee, 
 Low we bow th' adoring knee. 
 When, repentant, to the skies 
 Scarce we lift our streaming eyes,- 
 Oh ! by all the pains and woe. 
 Suffered once for man below. 
 Bending from thy throne on high, 
 Hear our solemn litany. 
 
 By thy helpless infant years, 
 By thy life of wants and tears. 
 By thy days of sore distress 
 In the savage wilderness, — 
 By the dread, permitted hour 
 Of th' insulting tempter's power,— 
 Turn, O turn a pitying eye. 
 Hear our solemn litany ! 
 
 By the sacred griefs that wept. 
 O'er the grave where Lazarus slept. 
 By the boding tears that flowed 
 Over Salem's loved abode, — 
 By the anguished tear that told 
 Treachery lurked within thy fold,— 
 From thy seat above the sky. 
 Hear our solemn litany!
 
 GRANT, 
 
 By thine hour of dire despair, 
 By thine agony of prayer,— 
 By the cross, the nail, the thorn, 
 Piercing spear, and torturing scorn. 
 By the gloom that veiled the skies 
 O'er the dreadful sacrifice. 
 Listen to our humble cry. 
 Hear our solemn litany ! 
 
 By the deep expiring groan, 
 By the sad sepulchral stone, 
 By the vault whose dark abode 
 Held in vain the rising God, — 
 Oh ! from earth to heaven restored. 
 Mighty re-ascended Lord, 
 Listen, listen to the cry 
 Of our solemn litany !
 
 (@utan. 
 
 LIX. 
 
 Long plunged in sorrow, I resign 
 My soul to that dear hand of thine, 
 
 Without reserve or fear ; 
 That hand shall wipe my streaming eyes, 
 Or into smiles of glad surprise 
 
 Transform the falling tear ! 
 
 My sole possession is thy love, 
 In earth beneath, or heaven above, 
 
 I have no other store ; 
 And though with fervent suit I pray. 
 And importune thee night and day, 
 
 I ask thee nothing more.
 
 ■ GUION. 
 
 My hours, with undiminished force 
 And speed, pursue their destined course 
 
 Obedient to thy will ; 
 Nor would I murmur at my doom, 
 Tho' still a sufferer from the womb. 
 
 And doomed to suffer still. 
 
 By thy command, where'er I stray. 
 Sorrow attends me all my way, 
 
 A never -failing friend ; 
 And if my sufferings may augment 
 Thy praise, behold me weU content, — 
 
 Let sorrow still attend ! 
 
 It costs me no regret, that she 
 
 Who followed Christ, should foUow me 
 
 And though, where'er she goes, 
 Thonis spring spontaneous at her feet, 
 I love her, and extract a sweet 
 
 From all my bitter woes.
 
 GUION. 87 
 
 LX. 
 
 thou by long experience tried. 
 Near whom no grief can long abide ; 
 My Lord, how full of sweet content 
 
 1 pass my years of banishment. 
 
 All scenes alike engaging prove 
 To souls impressed with sacred love ! 
 Where'er they dwell, they dwell in thee : 
 In heaven, in earth, or on the sea. 
 
 To me remains nor place nor time, 
 My country is in every clime : 
 I can be calm and free from care 
 On any shore, since God is there. 
 
 While place we seek, or place we shun, 
 The soul finds happiness in none ; 
 But with my God to guide my way, 
 'Tis equal joy to go or stay. 
 
 Could 1 be cast where thou art not, 
 That were indeed a dreadful lot; 
 But regions none remote I call, 
 Secure of finding God in all.
 
 Hart. 
 
 Come, Holy Spirit, come ; 
 Let thy bright beams arise. 
 Dispel the darkness from our minds ; 
 And open all our eyes. 
 
 Cheer our desponding hearts, 
 Thou heavenly Paraclete ; 
 Give us to lie, with humble hope, 
 At our Redeemer's feet. 
 
 Revive our drooping faith ; 
 Our doubts and fears remove ; 
 And kindle in our breasts the flame 
 Of never-dying love.
 
 HART. 
 
 Convince us of our sin ; 
 Then lead to Jesu's blood ; 
 And to oiu: wondering view reveal 
 The secret love of God. 
 
 Shew us that loving Man, 
 That rules the courts of bliss, 
 The Lord of Hosts, the mighty God, 
 Th' eternal Prince of Peace. 
 
 'Tis thine to cleanse the heart. 
 To sanctify the soul. 
 To pour fresh life on every part. 
 And new create the whole. 
 
 If thou, celestial Dove, 
 Thine influence withdraw. 
 What easy victims soon we fall 
 To conscience, vrrath, and law. 
 
 No longer burns onr love ; 
 Our faith and patience fail ; 
 Our sin revives ; and death and hell 
 Our feeble souls assail. 
 
 Dwell therefore in our hearts ; 
 Our minds from bondage free ; 
 Then shall we know, and praise, and love, 
 The Father, Son, and Thee.
 
 90 HART. 
 
 LXII. 
 
 Oh ! for a glance of heavenly day. 
 To take this stubborn stone away; 
 And tbaw with beams of love divine 
 This heart, this frozen heart of mine. 
 
 The rocks can rend ; the earth can quake ; 
 The seas can roar ; the mountains shake ; 
 Of feeling, all things show some sign. 
 But this imfeeling heart of mine. 
 
 To hear the son'ows thou hast felt. 
 Dear Lord, an adamant would melt j 
 But I can read each moving line, 
 And nothing move this heart of mine. 
 
 Thy judgments, too, unmoved I hear, 
 (Amazing thought 1 ) which deArils fear : 
 Goodness and wrath in vain combine. 
 To stir this stupid heart of mine. 
 
 But something yet can do the deed 5 
 And that dear something much I need : 
 Thy Spirit can from dross refine. 
 And move and melt this heart of mine.
 
 HART. 
 
 LXIII. 
 
 Prayer was appointed to convey 
 The blessings God designs to give : 
 
 Long as tliey live should christians pray ; 
 For only while they pray, they live. 
 
 The Christian's heart his prayer indites ; 
 
 He speaks as prompted from within : 
 The Spirit his petition writes ; 
 
 And Christ receives and gives it in. 
 
 And wilt thou in dead silence lie. 
 
 When Christ stands waiting for thy prayer 
 My soul, thou hast a friend on high : 
 
 Arise, and try thy interest there. 
 
 If pain afflict, or wrongs oppress ; 
 
 If cares distract, or fears dismay j 
 If guilt deject ; if sin distress ; 
 
 The remedy's before thee j Pray. 
 
 'Tis prayer supports the soul that's weak ; 
 
 Though thought be broken, language lame, 
 Pray : if thou canst, or canst not, speak : 
 
 But pray with faith in Jesu's name.
 
 HART. 
 
 Depend on him ; thou canst not fail : 
 Make all thy wants and wishes knowTi 
 
 Fear not : His merits must prevail : 
 Ask what thou wilt, it shaU be done.
 
 ^jhtv. 
 
 LXIV. 
 
 Oh ! Saviour of the faithful dead. 
 With -whom thy servants dwell, 
 
 Though cold and green the turf is spread 
 Above their narrow cell,— 
 
 No more we cling to mortal clay, 
 We doubt and fear no more. 
 
 Nor shrink to tread the darksome way 
 Which thou hast trod before ! 
 
 'Twas hard from those I loved to go, 
 
 Who knelt around my bed, 
 Whose tears bedewed my burning brow, 
 
 Whose arms upheld my head !
 
 HEBER. 
 
 As, fading from my dizzy view, 
 I sought their forms in vain. 
 
 The bitterness of death I knew. 
 And groaned to live again. 
 
 'Twas dreadful when th' Accuser's power 
 
 Assailed my sinking heart. 
 Recounting every wasted hour, 
 
 And each unworthy part : 
 
 But, Jesus ! in that mortal fray. 
 
 Thy blessed comfort stole. 
 Like sunshine in a stormy day, 
 
 Across my darkened soul ! 
 
 When, soon or late, this feeble breath 
 
 No more to thee shall pray. 
 Support me through the vale of death. 
 
 And in the darksome way ! 
 
 When clothed in fleshly weeds again 
 
 I wait thy dread decree. 
 Judge of the world ! bethink thee then, 
 
 That thou hast died for me.
 
 HEBER. 95 
 
 LXV. 
 
 Thou art gone to the grave! but we will not deplore 
 
 thee, 
 Though sorrows and darkness encompass the tomb : 
 Thy Saviour has passed through its portal before thee. 
 And the lamp of his love is thy guide through the gloom ! 
 
 Thou art gone to the grave ; we no longer behold thee. 
 Nor tread the rough paths of the world by thy side ; 
 But the wide arms of mercy are spread to enfold thee. 
 And sinners may die, for the sinless has died ! 
 
 Thou artgone to the grave ! and, its mansions forsaking. 
 Perhaps thy weak spirit in fear lingered long ; 
 But the sunshine of heaven beamed bright on thy waking. 
 And the sound which thou heard'st was the seraphim's 
 song. 
 
 Thou art gone to the grave ! but we wtU not deplore thee. 
 Whose God was thy ransom, thy guardian, thy guide } 
 He gave thee, He took thee, and He wUl restore thee. 
 And death hath no sting, for the Saviour has died.
 
 96 HEBER. 
 
 LXVI. 
 
 From Greenland's icy mountains, 
 From India's coral strand, 
 Where Afric's sunny fountains 
 Roll down their golden sand, 
 From many an ancient river. 
 From many a palmy plain. 
 They caU us to deliver 
 Their land from error's chain. 
 
 What though the spicy breezes 
 Blow soft on Java's isle. 
 Though every prospect pleases. 
 And only man is vile ; 
 In vain with lavish kindness. 
 The gifts of God are strewn, 
 The Heathen, in his blindness. 
 Bows down to wood and stone. 
 
 Can we, whose souls are lighted 
 With wisdom from on high, 
 Can we, to man benighted. 
 The lamp of life deny i 
 Salvation ! oh. Salvation! 
 The joyful sound proclaim, 
 Tin each remotest nation 
 Has learned Messiah's name.
 
 HEBER. 97 
 
 Waft, waft, ye winds, his story, 
 And you, ye waters, roll. 
 Till like a sea of glory 
 It spreads from pole to pole ; 
 Till o'er our ransomed nature 
 The Lamb for sinners slain. 
 Redeemer, King, Creator, 
 In bliss returns to reign. 
 
 LXVII. 
 
 Beneath our feet and o'er our head 
 
 Is equal warning given ; 
 Beneath us lie the countless dead, 
 
 Above us is the Heaven ! 
 
 Their names are graven on the stone, 
 Their bones are in the clayj 
 
 And ere another day is done. 
 Ourselves may be as they. 
 
 Death rides on every passing breeze. 
 He lurks in every flower ; 
 
 Each season has its own disease. 
 Its peril every hour !
 
 98 HEBER. 
 
 Our eyes have seen the rosy light 
 Of youth's soft cheek decay, 
 
 And fate descend in sudden night 
 On manhood's middle day. 
 
 Our eyes have seen the steps of age 
 Halt feehly towards the tomb, 
 
 And yet shall earth our hearts engage, 
 And dreams of days to come > 
 
 Turn, mortal, turn ! thy danger know j 
 Where'er thy foot can tread. 
 
 The earth rings hollow from below. 
 And warns thee of her dead ! 
 
 Turn, Christian, turn ! thy soul apply 
 
 To truths divinely given j 
 The bones that underneath thee lie 
 
 ShaU live for HeU or Heaven 1
 
 pit?, ^mms. 
 
 LXVIII. 
 
 Earth ! guard what here we lay in holy trust ; 
 
 That which hath left our home a darkened place. 
 Wanting the form, the smile, now veiled in dust. 
 
 The light departed with our loveUest face. 
 Yet from thy bonds undying hope springs free— 
 We have but lent our beautiful to thee. 
 
 But thou, oh Heaven! keep, keepwhatthou hast taken. 
 And with our tears O keep onr hearts on high ! 
 
 The spirit meek, and yet by pain unshaken. 
 The faith, the love, the lofty constancy. 
 
 Guide us where these are with our sister flown — 
 
 They were of Thee, and thou hast claimed thine own
 
 100 MRS. HEMANS. 
 
 LXIX. 
 
 Leaves have their time to fall, 
 And flowers to ^vithe^ at the north-wind's breath, 
 
 And stars to set,— but all, 
 Thou hast all seasons for thine own, O death. 
 
 Day is for mortal care, 
 Eve for glad tidings round the joyous hearth. 
 
 Night for the dreams of sleep, the voice of prayer. 
 But aU for thee, thou mightiest of the earth ! 
 
 The banquet hath its hour. 
 Its feverish hour of mirth, and song, and wine ; 
 
 There comes a day for grief's o'erwhelming power, 
 A time for softer tears,— but all are thine ! 
 
 Youth and the opening rose 
 May look like things too glorious for decay. 
 
 And smile at thee ! —but thou art not of those 
 That wait the ripened bloom to seize their prey ! 
 
 Leaves have their time to fall. 
 And flowers to wither at the north .wrud's breath. 
 
 And stars to set,— but all. 
 Thou hast all seasons for thine own, O death.
 
 MRS. HEMANS. 1( 
 
 We know when moons shall wane, 
 When summer birds from far shall cross the sea, 
 
 When autumn's hue shall tinge the golden grain,- 
 But who shall teach us when to look for thee ? 
 
 Is it when spring's first gale , / 
 
 Comes forth to whisper where the violets lie ? 
 
 Is it when roses in our path grow pale 1 
 They have one season,— all are ours to die ! 
 
 Thou art where billows foam. 
 Thou art where music melts upon the air ; 
 
 Tliou art around us in our peaceful home, 
 And the world calls us forth, — and thou art there ! 
 
 Thou art where friend meets friend 
 Beneath the shadow of the elm to rest; 
 
 Thou art where foe meets foe, and trumpets rend 
 The skies, and swords beat down the princely crest. 
 
 Leaves have their time to fall, 
 And flowers to wither at the north- wind's breath, 
 
 And stars to set,— but aU, 
 Thou hast all seasons for thine own, O death.
 
 MRS. HEMANS. 
 
 LXX. 
 
 " I hear thee speak of the better land j 
 Thou callest its children a happy band : 
 Mother 1 oh ! where is that radiant shore ?— 
 Shall we not seek it, and weep no more ? — 
 Is it where the flower of the orange blows, 
 And the fire-flies dance through the myrtle boughs ? ' 
 —"Not there— not there, my child !" 
 
 " Is it where the feathery palm-trees rise. 
 And the date grows ripe under sunny skies ? - 
 Or midst the green islands of glittering seas. 
 Where fragrant forests perfume the breeze j 
 And strange bright birds, on their starry wings. 
 Bear the rich hues of aU glorious things ? " 
 
 — " Not there— not there, my child! 
 
 " Is it far away, in some region old. 
 Where the rivers wander o'er sands of gold ? — 
 Where the burning rays of the ruby shine. 
 And the diamond lights up the secret mine, 
 And the pearl gleams forth from the coral strand- 
 Is it there, sweet mother,— that better land ?" 
 
 — " Not there— not there, my child
 
 MRS. HEMANS. ] 
 
 " Eye hath not seen it, my gentle boy .' 
 Ear hath not heard its deep songs of joy j 
 Dreams cannot picture a world so fair — 
 Sorrow and death may not enter there ; 
 Time does not breathe on its fadeless bloom. 
 For beyond the clouds, and beyond the tomb. 
 
 It is there— it is there, my cjiild
 
 flerbert. 
 
 LXXI. 
 
 Sweet day, so cool, so calm, so bright. 
 
 Bridal of earth and sky. 
 The dew shall weep thy fall to-night ; 
 
 For thou, alas ! must die. 
 
 Sweet rose, in air whose odours wave, 
 And colours charm the eye, 
 
 Thy root is ever in its grave. 
 And thou, alas ! must die. 
 
 Sweet spring, of days and roses made. 
 Whose charms for beauty vie. 
 
 Thy days depart, thy roses fade. 
 Thou too, alas ! must die.
 
 HERBERT. 
 
 Be wise then, Christian, while you may, 
 
 For swiftly time is flying ; 
 The thoughtless man, that laughs to-day. 
 
 To-morrow wiU be dying. 
 
 LXXII. 
 
 My stock lies dead, and no increase 
 Doth my dull husbandry improve : 
 O let thy graces, without cease, 
 
 Drop from above. 
 
 If still the sun should hide his face, 
 Tliy house would but a dungeon prove. 
 Thy works, nights' captives : O let grace 
 Drop from above. 
 
 The dew doth every morning fall ; 
 And shall the dew outstrip thy dove ? 
 The dew, for which grass cannot call. 
 Drops from above. 
 
 Death is stUl working like a mole. 
 And digs my grave at each remove : 
 Let grace work too, and on my soul 
 Drop from above.
 
 106 HERBERT. 
 
 Sin is still hammering' my heart. 
 Unto a hardness void of love : 
 Let suppl'ing grace, to cross his art. 
 Drop from above. 
 
 O come! for thou dost know the way ; 
 Or, if to me thou wilt not move. 
 Remove me where I need not say 
 Drop from above ! 
 
 LXXIII. 
 
 O Throw away thy rod, 
 O throw away thy vrrath ; 
 My gracious Sa%-iour and my God, 
 O take the gentle path. 
 
 Tliou seest my heart's desire 
 Still unto theg is bent : 
 Still does my longing soul aspire 
 To an entire consent. 
 
 Not even a word or look 
 Do I approve or own. 
 But by the model of thy book. 
 Thy sacred book alone.
 
 HERBERT. 107 
 
 Although I fail, I weep, 
 Although I halt in pace. 
 Yet still with trembling steps 
 Unto the throne of grace. 
 
 O then let wrath remove ; 
 For love will do the deed ; 
 Love win the conquest gain ; with love 
 E'en stony hearts wiH bleed. 
 
 O throw away thy rod, 
 What though man frailties hath ? 
 Thou art my Saviour and my God : 
 O throw away thy wrath. 
 
 LXXIV. 
 
 Teach me, my God and King, 
 In all things thee to see ; 
 And, what I do in any thing. 
 To do it as for thee. 
 
 Not rudely, as a beast. 
 To rush into an action j 
 But still to make thee prepossessed. 
 And give it thy perfection.
 
 HERBERT. 
 
 A man that looks on glass, 
 On it may stay his eye ; 
 Or, if he pleaseth, through it pass 
 And all the heaven espy. 
 
 All may of thee partake ; 
 Nothing can be so mean, 
 Which with this tincture, '* For thy sake. 
 Wilt not grow bright and clean. » 
 
 A servant with this clause. 
 Makes drudgery divine ; 
 Who sweeps a room, as for thy laws. 
 Makes that, and th' action, fine. 
 
 This is the famous stone. 
 That tumeth all to gold ; 
 For that which God doth touch and own. 
 Cannot for less be told.
 
 HERBERT. lOg 
 
 LXXV. 
 
 When God at first made man. 
 Having a fount of blessings standing by. 
 Let us, said he, pour on him all we can ; 
 Let the world's riches, which dispersed lie. 
 Contract into a span. 
 
 So strength first made a way ; 
 
 Then beauty flowed, then wisdom, honour, pleasure j 
 When almost all was out, God made a stay ; 
 Perceiving, that alone, of all liis treasure. 
 Rest, in the bottom lay. 
 
 For if I should, said he. 
 Bestow f/i is jewel also on my creature, 
 He would adore my gifts instead of me ; 
 And rest in nature, not the God of nature ;— 
 So both should losers be. 
 
 Yet let him keep the rest. 
 But keep them with repining restlessness ; 
 Let him be rich, and weary; that at least. 
 If goodness lead liim not, yet weariness 
 May toss him to my breast.
 
 HERBERT. 
 
 LXXVI. 
 
 Sweetest Saviour, if my soul. 
 Were but worth the having', 
 Quickly should I then control. 
 Any thought of waving. 
 But, when all my care and pains 
 Cannot give the name of gains 
 To thy wretch so full of stains ; 
 What delight, or hope remains ? 
 
 " What, child ! is the balance thine ? 
 Thine the poise and measure ? 
 If I say, * thou shalt be mine,' 
 Question not my pleasure. 
 What the gain in having thee 
 Doth amount to, only he 
 Who for man was sold, can see ; 
 That transferred the account to me. 
 
 But as I can see no merit 
 Leading to this favour : 
 So the way to fit me for it. 
 Is beyond my savour. 
 As the reason then is thine. 
 So the way is none of mine ; 
 I disclaim the whole design : 
 Lord, to thee I all resign.
 
 HERBERT. 
 
 That is all, if that I could 
 
 Get without repining, 
 
 And my clay, my creature, would 
 
 Follow my designing ; 
 
 That as I did freely part 
 
 With my glory and desert. 
 
 Left all joys to feel aU smart"— 
 
 Ah, no more, thou break'st my heart.
 
 \mt. 
 
 O YE, who, with the silent tear 
 And saddened step, assemble here, 
 To bear these cold, these loved remains, 
 Where dark and cheerless silence reigns ; 
 Your sorrows hush, your griefs dispel. 
 The Saviour lives, — and " aU is well !" 
 
 Those eyes, indeed, are rayless now j 
 And pale that cheek, and chiU that brow 
 Yet could that lifeless form declare 
 The joys its soul is called to share. 
 How would those lips rejoice to tell. 
 The Saviour lives—" and aU is well !"
 
 Enblt. 
 
 Thou tiirice denied, yet tlirice beloved. 
 Watch by thine own forgiven friend ; 
 
 In sharpest perils faithful proved, 
 Let his soul love thee to the end. 
 
 The prayer is heard— else why so deep 
 His slumber on the eve of death ? 
 
 And wherefore smiles he in his sleep 
 As one who drew celestial breath .' 
 
 He loves and is beloved again — 
 Can his soul choose but be at rest > 
 
 Sorrow hath fled away, and pain 
 Dares not invade the guarded nest.
 
 KEEBLE. 
 
 He dearly loves, and not alone : 
 
 For his winged thougMs are soaring high 
 Where never yet frail heart was knovra 
 
 To breathe in vain affection's sigh. 
 
 He loves and weeps— but more than tears 
 Have sealed thy welcome and his love — 
 
 One look lives in him, and endears 
 Crosses and wrongs where'er he rove : 
 
 That gracious chiding look, Thy call 
 To win him to himself and Tliee, 
 
 Sweetening the sorrow of his fall 
 ^^^lich else were rued too bitterly. 
 
 Even through the veil of sleep it shines. 
 The memory of that kindly glance; — 
 
 The Angel watching by divines 
 And spares awhile his blissful trance. 
 
 His dream is changed — the Tyrant's voice 
 Calls to that last of glorious deeds— 
 
 But as he rises to rejoice. 
 Not Herod but an Angel leads. 
 
 He dreams he sees a lamp flash bright, 
 
 Glancing around his prison room- 
 But 'tis a gleam of heavenly light 
 That fills up all the ample gloom.
 
 KEEBLE. 115 
 
 The flame, that in a few short }-ears 
 Deep through the chambers of the dead 
 
 Shall pierce, and dry the fount of tears, 
 Is waving o'er his dungeon bed. 
 
 Touched he upstarts— his chains unbind- 
 Through darksome vault, up massy stair, 
 
 His dizzy, doubting footsteps wind 
 To freedom and cool moonlight air. 
 
 Then all himself, all joy and calm. 
 Though for a while his hand forego, 
 
 Just as it touched, the martyr's palm, 
 He turns him to his task below ; 
 
 The pastoral staff, the keys of heaven, 
 To wield awhile in grey -haired might. 
 
 Then from his cross to spring forgiven 
 And follow Jesus out of sight.
 
 116 KEEBLE. 
 
 LXXIX. 
 
 The silent joy, that sinks so deep. 
 
 Of confidence and rest, 
 Lulled in a father's arms to sleep, 
 
 Clasped to a mother's breast ! 
 
 Who, but a Christian, through all life 
 
 That blessing naay prolong ? 
 ^\^lo, through the world's sad day of stiife. 
 
 Still chant his morning song ■ 
 
 Fathers may hate us or forsake, 
 God's foundlings then are we : 
 
 Mother on child no pity take. 
 But we shall still have thee. 
 
 We may look home, and seek in vain 
 
 A fond fraternal heart, 
 But Christ hath given his promise plain 
 
 To do a brother's part.
 
 117 
 
 LXXX. 
 
 " Seek ye to sit enthroned by me ? 
 
 " Alas ! ye know not what ye ask, / 
 " The first in shame and agony, 
 
 " The lowest in the meanest task — 
 "This can ye be ? and can ye drink 
 
 " The cup that I in tears must steep, 
 ' ' Nor from the whelming waters shrink 
 
 " That o'er me roll so dark and deep ? " 
 
 We can !— thine are we, dearest Lord 
 
 In glory and in agony, 
 To do and suffer all Thy word ; 
 
 Only be Thou for ever nigh : 
 
 "Then be it so ! — my cup receive, 
 
 " And of my woes baptismal taste : 
 •' But for the crown, that angels weave 
 
 " For those next me in glory placed, 
 " I give it not by partial love ; 
 
 " But in my Father's book are writ 
 " What names on earth shall lowliest prove, 
 
 " That they in Heaven may highest sit.
 
 KEEBLE. 
 
 LXXXI. 
 
 ' Loan, aud what shall this man do ? ' 
 Ask'st thou, Christian, for thy friend 
 
 If his love for Christ be true, 
 Christ hath told thee of his end : 
 
 This is he whom God approves. 
 
 This is he whom Jesus loves. 
 
 Ask not of him more than this, 
 Leave it in his Sa%'iour's breast. 
 
 Whether, early called to bliss. 
 He in youth shall find his rest. 
 
 Or armed in his station wait 
 
 Till his Lord be at the gate : 
 
 Whether in his lonely course 
 [Lonely, not forlorn) he stay. 
 
 Or with love's supporting force 
 Cheat the toU and cheer the way : 
 
 Leave it aU in His high hand. 
 
 Who doth hearts as streams command-.
 
 KEEBLE. 
 
 Gales from heaven, if so He -will, 
 Sweeter melodies can wake 
 
 On the lonely mountain rill. 
 Than the meeting waters make. 
 
 Who hath the Father and the Son, 
 
 May he left, hut not alone. 
 
 Sick or healthful, slave or free. 
 Wealthy, or despised and poor— 
 
 What is that to him or thee. 
 So his love to Christ endure ? 
 
 When the shore is won at last. 
 
 Who will count the hillows past i 
 
 Only, since our souls will shrink 
 At the touch of natural grief. 
 
 When our earthly loved ones sink. 
 Lend us. Lord, thy sure relief ; 
 
 Patient hearts, their pain to see. 
 
 And thy grace, to follow Thee.
 
 Witllv. 
 
 LXXXII. 
 
 Ziox !— Jehovah is her strength! 
 
 Secure, she smiles at all her foes ; 
 And wearj- travellers at lengfth 
 
 Within her sacred vralls repose. 
 
 Oh! sweet abode of peace and love, 
 ^^^lere pUgrims, freed from toU, are blest 
 
 Had I the pinions of the dove, 
 I'd fly to thee, and be at rest. 
 
 But hush, my soul, nor dare repine 
 The time my God appoints is best 
 
 While here, to do his will be mine ; 
 And his to fix my time of rest.
 
 KELLY. 
 
 LXXXIII. 
 
 Th'atoning work is done, 
 
 The victim's blood is shed ; 
 And Jesus now is gone, ' 
 
 His people's cause to plead : 
 He stands in heaven their great high-priest. 
 And bears their names upon his breast. 
 
 He sprinkles with his blood 
 
 The mercy-seat above ; 
 For justice had withstood 
 
 The purposes of love ; 
 But justice now objects no more, 
 And mercy yields her boundless store. 
 
 No temple made with hands 
 
 His place of service is ; 
 In heaven itself he stands, 
 
 An heavenly priesthood his : 
 In him the shadows of the law 
 Are aU fulfilled, and now withdraw. 
 
 And though awhile he be 
 
 Hid from the eyes of men, 
 His people look to see 
 
 Their great high-priest again : 
 In brightest glory he wiU come, 
 And take his waiting people home.
 
 122 KELLY. 
 
 LXXXIV. 
 
 The God of glory dwells on high, 
 
 He rules the armies of the sky ; 
 Ten thousand thousand round him stand. 
 
 Obedient to their king's command. 
 
 The God of glorj^ moved by love. 
 Descends in mercy from above ; 
 
 And He, before whom angels bow. 
 Is found a man of grief below. 
 
 This love is great, too great for thought. 
 Its length £ind breadth in vain are sought ; 
 
 No tongue can tell its depth and height. 
 The love of God is infinite. 
 
 But though his love no measure knows, 
 The Saviour to his people shews 
 
 Enough to give them joy, when known; 
 Enough to make their hearts his own. 
 
 Constrained by this, they walk with him, 
 His love, their most delightful theme ; 
 
 To glorify him here, their aim ; 
 Their hope, in heaven to praise his name.
 
 KELLY. 
 
 LXXXV. 
 
 O ZioN ! when I think on thee, 
 I long for pinions like the dove. 
 
 And movim to think that I should be 
 So distant from the place I love. 
 
 A captive here, and far from home, 
 For Zion's sacred walls I sigh ; 
 
 To Zion all the ransomed come. 
 And see the Saviour eye to eye. 
 
 While here, I walk on hostile ground. 
 The few that I can call my friends 
 
 Are, like myself, with fetters bound, 
 And weariness our steps attends. 
 
 But yet we shall behold the day. 
 When Zion's children shall return j 
 
 Our sorrows then shall flee away. 
 And we shall never, never mourn. 
 
 The hope that such a day will come. 
 Makes even the captive's portion sweet : 
 
 Though now we wander far from home, 
 In Zion soon we all shall meet
 
 Bing. 
 
 LXXXVI. 
 
 Like to the falling of a star, 
 Or as the flights of eagles are, 
 Or like the fresh spring's gaudy hue, 
 Or silver drops of morning dew ; 
 Or like a wind that chafes the flood, 
 Or bubbles which on water stood : 
 Even such is man, whose borrowed light 
 Is straight caUed in, and paid to-night. 
 The wind blows out, the bubble dies : 
 The spring entombed in autumn lies ; 
 The dew dries up, the star is shotj 
 The flight is past,— and man forgot.
 
 Birfee mi)itt. 
 
 LXXXVII. 
 
 Ah ! when did Avisdom covet length of days. 
 Or seek its bliss in pleasure, wealth, or praise 
 No : — wisdom views with an indifferent eye. 
 All finite joys, all blessings bom to die. 
 The soul on earth is an immortal guest. 
 Compelled to starve at an vmreal feast : 
 A spark that upward tends by nature's force ; 
 A stream diverted from its parent source ; 
 A drop dissever'd from the boundless sea ; 
 A moment parted from eternity ! 
 A pilgrim, panting for a rest to come ; 
 An exile, anxious for his native home.
 
 KIRKE WHITE. 
 
 LXXXVIIT. 
 
 What is this passing scene .' 
 
 A peevish April- day ! 
 A little sun,— a little rain, — 
 And then night sweeps along the plain, 
 And aU things fade away : 
 Man (soon discussed) 
 Yields up his trust ; 
 And all his hopes and fears lie with him in the dust ! 
 
 And what is beauty's power ? 
 
 It flourishes and dies ; 
 Will the cold earth its silence break, 
 To tell how soft, how smooth a cheek 
 Beneath it's surface lies ? 
 Mute, mute is all 
 O'er beauty's fall j 
 Her praise resounds no more, when mantled in her pall . 
 
 The most beloved on earth 
 
 Not long survives to-day ; 
 So music past is obsolete. 
 And yet 'twas sweet, 'twas passing sweet, 
 But now 'tis gone away .- 
 Thus does the shade 
 In memory fade, 
 When in forsaken tomb the form beloved is laid .'
 
 KIRKE WHITE. V27 
 
 Then since tliis world is vain 
 
 And volatile and fleet, 
 Why should I lay up earthly joys, 
 Where rust con-upts and moth destroys, 
 And cares and soiTows eat ? 
 "VVTiy fly from ill 
 With anxious skill, 
 "VMien soon this hand will freeze, this throbbing lieart 
 lie stm ? 
 
 LXXXIX. 
 
 When marshall'd on the nightly plain. 
 The glittering host bestud the sky ; 
 
 One star alone, of all the train. 
 Can fix the sinner's wandering eye. 
 
 Hark ! hark! to God the chorus breaks, 
 From every host, from every gem ; 
 
 But one alone the Saviour speaks,— 
 It is the star of Bethlehem. 
 
 Once on the raging seas I rode, 
 
 The storm was loud, the night was dark, 
 The ocean yawned and rudely blowed 
 
 The wind that tossed my foundering bark.
 
 KIRKE WHITE. 
 
 Deep horror then my vitals froze, 
 
 Death-struck, I ceased the tide to stem ; 
 
 When suddenly a star arose. 
 It was the star of Bethlehem. 
 
 It was my guide, my light, my all ; 
 
 It bade my dark forebodings cease ; 
 And thro' the storm, and danger's thrall. 
 
 It led me to the port of peace. 
 
 Now safely moor'd, — my perils o'er, 
 I'll sing, first in night's diadem, 
 
 For ever and for evermore, 
 The Star!-^the Star of Bethlehem
 
 ilut^fi-. 
 
 xc. 
 
 'Tis not too hard, too high an aim, 
 Seciire, thy part in Christ to claim ; 
 The sensual instinct to control. 
 And warm with purer fires the soul. 
 Nature will raise up all her strife, 
 Foe to the flesh-abasing life. 
 Loth in a Saviour's death to share. 
 Her daily cross compelled to bear; 
 But grace omnipotent at length 
 ShaU arm the saint with sa\'ing strength : 
 Through the sharp war with aids attend. 
 And his long conflict sweetly end. 
 
 Act but the infant's gentle part. 
 Give up to love thy willing heart ; 
 No fondest parent's tender breast 
 Yearns like thy God's to make thee blest , 
 
 K
 
 130 LUTHER, 
 
 Taught its dear mother soon to know, 
 The simplest babe its love can show, 
 Bid bashful, servile fear retire, 
 The task no labour will require. 
 
 The sovereign Father, good and kind. 
 Wants but to have his child resigned ; 
 Wants but thy yielded heart, no more,— 
 With his rich gifts of grace to store. 
 He to thy soul no anguish brings. 
 From thy own stubborn wiU it springs; 
 That foe but crucify, the bane, — 
 Nought Shalt thou know of fro"v\Tis or pain. 
 
 Shake from thy soul, o'erwhehned, deprest, 
 Th' encumbering load that galls its rest. 
 That wastes its strength with bondage vain, 
 With courage break th' enslaving chain ! 
 Let faith exert its conquering power. 
 Say, in thy fearing, trembling hour, 
 " Father, thy pitying aid impart ! " 
 Tis done ! a sigh can reach his heart. 
 
 Yet if, more earnest plaints to raise. 
 
 Awhile his succours he delays ; 
 
 Though his kind hand thou canst not feel, 
 
 The smart let lenient patience heal ; 
 
 Or if corruption's strength prevail ; 
 
 And oft thy pUgrim footsteps fail, 
 
 Lift for his grace thy louder cries. 
 
 So Shalt thou cleansed and stronger rise.
 
 LUTHER. 
 
 If haply still thy mental shade 
 Deep as the midnight's gloom be made. 
 On the sure faithful arm divine 
 Finn let thy fastening trust recline. 
 The gentlest Sire, the best of firiends. 
 To thee, nor loss nor harm intends ; 
 Though tost on the most boisterous main, 
 No wreck thy vessel shall sustain. 
 Should there remain of rescuing grace 
 No glimpse, no shadovr left to trace. 
 Hear thy Lord's voice, " 'Tis Jesus' will" 
 Believe, thou dark lost pUgrim still. 
 
 Then, thy sad night of terrors past. 
 Though the dread season long may last, 
 Sweet peace shall from the smiling skies, 
 Like a new dawn before thee rise ; 
 Then shall thy faith's firm grounds appear, 
 Its eyes shall view salvation clear. 
 
 Be hence encouraged more, when tried 
 
 On thy best Father to confide. 
 
 Oh ! my too blind but nobler part. 
 
 Be moved ! Be won by these, my heart ; — 
 
 See of how rich a lot, how blest, 
 
 The true believer stands possest. 
 
 Come, backward soul, to God resign ; 
 Peace, his best blessing, shall be thine 
 Boldly recumbent on his care. 
 Cast thy full burden only there.
 
 Eogan. 
 
 XCI. 
 
 Where high the heavenly temple stanUu, 
 The house of God not made with hands, 
 A great High Priest our nature wears, 
 The guardian of mankind appears. 
 
 He who for men their surety stood. 
 And poured on earth his precious blood 
 Pursues in heaven his mighty plan. 
 The Saviour and the friend of man. 
 
 Though now ascended up on high, 
 He bends on earth a brother's eye : 
 Partaker of the human name. 
 He knows the frailty of our frame.
 
 LOGAN. 
 
 Oar fellow-sufferer yet retains 
 A fellow-feeling of our pains ; 
 And stUl remembers in the skies 
 His tears, his agonies, and cries. 
 
 In every pang that rends the heart. 
 The man of sorrows had a part ; 
 He sympathizes with our grief, 
 And to the sufferer sends reUef. 
 
 With boldness, therefore, at the throne, 
 Let us make all our sorrows known, 
 And ask the aid of heavenly power 
 To help us in the evil hour. 
 
 xcn. 
 
 Behold, the mountain of the Lord 
 
 In latter days shjill rise 
 On mountain tops above the hills, 
 
 And draw the wandering eyes. 
 
 To this the joyful nations round, 
 AU tribes and tongues, shall flow ; 
 
 Up to the hill of God, they'll say, 
 And to his house, we'U go.
 
 LOGAN. 
 
 The beam that shines from Zion's hill, 
 
 ShaU lighten every land ; 
 The king who reigns ia Salem's tower, 
 
 Shall all the world command. 
 
 Among the nations he shall judge ; 
 
 His judgments truth shall guide ; 
 His sceptre shall protect the just. 
 
 And queU the sinner's pride. 
 
 No strife shall rage, nor hostile feuds 
 
 Disturb those peaceful years ; 
 To ploughshares men shall beat their swords, 
 
 To pruning hooks their spears. 
 
 No longer hosts, encountering hosts. 
 
 Shall crowds of slain deplore ; 
 They hang the trumpet in the hall. 
 
 And study war no more. 
 
 Come then, O house of Jacob ! come 
 
 To worship at his shrine, 
 And, walking in the light of Gtod, 
 
 With holy beauties shine.
 
 M^vtiotL 
 
 XCIII. 
 
 A Saint! Oh ! would that I could claim 
 The privileged, the honoured name. 
 And confidently take my stand, 
 Though lowest, in the saintly band ! 
 
 Would, though it were in scorn applied, 
 That term the test of truth could bide I 
 Like kingly salutations given 
 In mockery to the King of Heaven. 
 
 A Saint ! And what imports the name 
 Thus bandied in derision's game } 
 " Holy, and separate from sin ; 
 " To good, nay, even to God akin."
 
 136 MARRIOTT. 
 
 Is such the meaning of a name, 
 
 From which a Christian shrinks with shame 
 
 Yes, dazzled with the g-lorious sight, 
 
 He owns his crown is all too bright. 
 
 And ill might son of Adam dare 
 Alone such honour's weight to bear ; 
 But fearlessly he takes the load, 
 United to the Son of God. 
 
 A Saint ! Oh ! give me but some sign. 
 Some seal to prove the title mine, 
 And warmer thanks thou shalt command. 
 Than bringing kingdoms in thine hand. 
 
 Oh ! for an interest in that name. 
 When hell shall ope its jaws of flame. 
 And scomers to their doom be hurled, 
 "VMule scorned saints ' shall judge the world ! 
 
 How shall the name of saints be prized; 
 Tho' now neglected and despised, 
 "V\*hen truth shaU witness to the word, 
 That none but saints 'shall see the Lord! '
 
 Platran. 
 
 XCIV. 
 
 Hail the day that sees him rise, 
 Ravished from our wishful eyes : 
 Christ, awhile to mortals given. 
 Re-ascends his native Heaven ; 
 There the mighty conqueror waits, 
 " Lift your heads eternal gates, 
 " Wide unfold the radiant scene, 
 " Take the King of Glory in." 
 
 Circled round with angel-powers. 
 Their triumphant Lord and ours, 
 Conqueror o'er death, heU, and sin, 
 Take the King of Glory in : 
 Him though highest Heaven receives, 
 Still he loves the earth he leaves ; 
 Though returned to his throne, 
 Still he calls mankind his ovra.
 
 MAD AN. 
 
 See, he lifts his hands above ; 
 See, he shows the prints of love ; 
 Hark ! his gracious lips bestow 
 Blessings on his church below : 
 Still for us he intercedes. 
 Prevalent his death he pleads ; 
 Next himself prepares our place, 
 Saviour of the human race. 
 
 Master (may we ever say). 
 Taken from our head to-day. 
 See thy faithful servants, see ! 
 Ever gazing up to thee ! 
 Grant, though parted from our sight, 
 High above yon azure height. 
 Grant our hearts may thither rise. 
 Seeking thee beyond the skies. 
 
 Ever upward may we move. 
 Wafted on the wings of love : 
 Looking when our Lord shall come. 
 Longing, gasping after home ! 
 There may we with thee remain. 
 Partners of thine endless reign ; 
 There thy face unclouded see. 
 Find our Heaven of Heavens in thee.
 
 MADAN. 139 
 
 Risk, my soul, and stretch thy wings, 
 
 Thy better portion trace ; 
 Rise from transitory things 
 
 Toward heaven thy native place. 
 Sun, and moon, and stars decay. 
 
 Time shall soon this earth remove ; 
 Rise, my soul, and haste away 
 
 To seats prepared above. 
 
 Rivers to the ocean run. 
 
 Nor stay in aU their course ; 
 Fire ascending seeks the sim. 
 
 Both speed them to their source. 
 So a soul that's bom of God, 
 
 Pants to view his glorious face : 
 Upwards tends to his abode. 
 
 To rest in his embrace. 
 
 Cease, ye pilgrims, cease to mourn, 
 
 Press onward to the prize ; 
 Soon the Saviour wiU return 
 
 Triumphant in the skies. 
 Yet a season, and you know 
 
 Happy entrance will be given. 
 All our sorrow left below. 
 
 And earth exchanged for heaven.
 
 Plillman. 
 
 XCVI. 
 
 SixG to the Lord ! let harp, and lute, and voice 
 Up to the expanding gates of Heaven rejoice, 
 
 \Miile the bright mart>T:s to their rest are borne : 
 Sing to the Lord! their blood-stained course is run. 
 And every head its diadem hath won. 
 
 Rich as the purple of the summer mora ; 
 Sing the triumphant champions of their God, 
 WTiile burn their mounting feet along their sky-ward 
 road. 
 
 Sing to the Lord ! for her in beauty's prime 
 Snatched from this wintry earth's ungenial clime, 
 
 In the eternal spring of Paradise to bloom ; 
 For her the world displayed its brightest treasure, 
 And the air panted with the songs of pleasure : 
 
 Before earth's throne she chose the lowly tomb. 
 The vale of tears with willing footsteps trod. 
 Bearing her cross with thee, incarnate Son of God !
 
 MILLMAN. 14i 
 
 Sing to the Lord 1 it is not shed in vain. 
 
 The blood of martyrs ! from its freshening rain 
 
 High springs the church like some fount-shadowing 
 palm; 
 The nations crowd beneath its branching shade. 
 Of its green leaves are kingly diadems made, 
 
 And wrapt within its deep embosoming calm 
 Earth sinks to slumber like the breezeless deep, 
 And war's tempestuous vultures fold their wings and 
 sleep. 
 
 Sing to the Lord ! no more the angels fly 
 Far in the bosom of the stainless sky 
 
 The sound of fierce licentious sacrifice. 
 From shrined alcove,^ and stately pedestal. 
 The marble gods in cumbrous ruin fall, 
 
 Headless in dust the awe of nations lies ; 
 Jove's thunder crumbles in his mouldering hand. 
 And mute as sepulchres the hymnless temples stand. 
 
 Sing to the Lord ! from damp prophetic cave 
 No more the loose-haired sybUs burst and rave : 
 
 Nor watch the aug\irs pale the wandering bird : 
 No more on hUl or in the murky wood, 
 Mid frantic shout and dissonant music rude, 
 
 In human tones are wailing victims heard ; 
 Nor fathers by the reeking altar -stone 
 Cowl theii' dark heads t'escape their childrens' dying 
 groan.
 
 142 MILLMAN. 
 
 Sing to the Lord! no more the dead are laid 
 In cold despair beneath the cj-press shade, 
 
 To sleep the eternal sleep, that knows no morn : 
 There, eager stiU to burst death's brazen bands. 
 The angel of the resurrection stands ; 
 
 "While, on its own immortal pinions borne. 
 Following the breaker of the emprisoning tomb, 
 Forth springs the exulting soul, and shakes away its 
 gloom. 
 
 Sing to the Lord! the desert rocks break out, 
 And the thronged cities, in one gladdening shout, 
 
 The farthest shores by pilgrim step explored ; 
 Spread all your wings, ye winds, and waft around, 
 Even to the starry cope's pale waning bound, 
 
 Earth's universal homage to the Lord ; 
 Lift up thine head, imperial Capitol, 
 Proud on thy height to see the bannered cross unroll. 
 
 Sing to the Lord! when time itself shall cease. 
 And final ruin's desolating peace 
 
 Enwrap this wide and restless world of man ; 
 When the Judge rides upon the enthroning wind, 
 And o'er all generations of mankind 
 
 Eternal vengeance w^aves its winnowing fan j 
 To vast infinity's remotest space, 
 While ages run their everlasting race, 
 Shall aU the beatific hosts prolong, 
 Wide as the glorj' of the Lamb, the Lamb's triumphant 
 song !
 
 MILLMAN. 143 
 
 xcvir. 
 
 Even thus amid thy pride and luxury, 
 
 O earth ! shall that last coining burst on thee, 
 
 That secret coming of the Son of Man. 
 When all the cherub-throning clouds shall shine, 
 IiTadiate with his bright advancing sign : 
 
 When that Great Husbandman shall wave his fan, 
 Sweeping, like chaff, thy wealth and pomp away : 
 Still to the noon-tide of that nightless day, 
 
 Shalt thou thy wonted dissolute course maintain. 
 Along the busy mart and crowded street. 
 The buyer and the seller still shall meet. 
 
 And marriage feasts begin their jocund strain : 
 Still to the pouring out the cup of woe ; 
 TUl earth, a drunkard, reeling to and fro, 
 And mountains molten by his burning feet. 
 And heaven,his presence own, all red with furnace heat. 
 
 The hundred-gated cities then. 
 
 The towers and temples, named of men 
 
 Eternal, and the thrones of kings ; 
 The gilded summer palaces, 
 The courtly bowers of love and ease. 
 
 Where still the bird of pleasure sings ; 
 Ask ye the destiny of them ? 
 Go gaze on fallen Jerusalem ! 
 Yea, mightier names are in the fatal roll, 
 
 'Gainst earth and heaven God's standard is unfurled. 
 The skies are shrivelled like a burning scroll. 
 And the vast common doom ensepulchres the world.
 
 144 MILLMAN. 
 
 Oh ! who shall then survive ? 
 
 Oh ! who shall stand and live ? 
 When aU that hath been is no more : 
 
 When for the round earth hung in air. 
 
 With all its constellations fair, 
 
 In the sky's azure canopy : 
 When for the breathing earth, and sparkling sea, 
 Is but a fiery deluge without shore. 
 Heaving along the abyss profound and dark, 
 A fiery deluge, and without an ark. 
 
 Lord of all power, when thou art there alone 
 
 On thy eternal fiery-wheeled throne. 
 That in its liigh meridian noon 
 Needs not the perished sun nor moon : 
 
 ■VNTien thou art there in thy presiding state, 
 Wide-sceptered monarch o'er the realm of doom .- 
 \Mienfrom the sea depths, from earth's darkest womb. 
 
 The dead of aU the ages roimd thee Wciit : 
 And when the tribes of wickedness are strewn 
 
 Like forest leaves in the autumn of thine ire : 
 Faithful and true ! thou still wUt save thine own : 
 
 The saints shall dwell within th'unharming fire, 
 Each white robe spotless, blooming every- palm. 
 
 Even safe as we, by this still fountain's side. 
 
 So shall the church, thy bright and mystic bride, 
 Sit on the stormy gulf a halcyon bird of calm. 
 
 Yes, mid yon angry and destroying signs. 
 
 O'er us the rainbow of thy mercy shines, 
 
 We hail, we bless the covenant of its beam, 
 Almighty to avenge, Almightiest to redeem !
 
 XCVIII. 
 
 God of the thunder ! from whose cloudy seat 
 
 The fiery winds of desolation flow : 
 Father of vengeance ! that with purple feet, 
 
 Like a full wine-press, tread'st the world below. 
 The embattled armies wait thy sign to slay. 
 Nor springs the beast of havoc on his prey. 
 Nor withering famine walks his blasting way, 
 
 Till thou the guilty land hast sealed for woe. 
 
 God of the rainbow! at whose gracious sign 
 
 The billows of the proud their rage suppress : 
 Father of mercies ! at one word of thine 
 
 An Eden blooms in the waste wilderness ! 
 And fountains sparkle in the arid sands, 
 And timbrels ring in maiden's glancing hands, 
 And marble cities crown the laughing lands. 
 And pillared temples rise thy name to bless. 
 
 O'er Judah's land thy thunders broke, O Lord ! 
 
 The chariots rattled o'er her sunken gate. 
 Her sons were wasted by the Ass\Tian sword ; 
 
 Even her foes wept to see her fallen state j 
 And heaps her ivory palaces became. 
 Her princes wore the captive's garb of shame. 
 Her temple sank amid the smouldering flame, 
 
 For thou didst ride the tempest-cloud of fate.
 
 146 MILLMAN. 
 
 O'er Judah's land thy rainbow. Lord, shall beam, 
 
 And the sad city lift her crownless head ; 
 And songs shall wake, and dancing footsteps gleam, 
 
 ■\Miere broods o'er fallen streets the silence of the dead. 
 The sun shall shine on Salem's gilded towers, 
 On Camiel's side our maidens cull the flowers, 
 To deck, at blushing eve, their bridal bowers, 
 And angel feet the glittering Sion tread. 
 
 Thy vengeance gave us to the stranger's hand, 
 
 And Abraham's children were led forth for slaves ; 
 With fettered steps we left our pleasant land, 
 
 En\Ting' our fathers in their peaceful graves. 
 The stranger's bread Avith bitter tears we steep. 
 And when our weary eyes should sink to sleep, 
 'Neath the mute midnight we steal forth to weep, 
 WTiere the pale willows shade Euphrates' waves. 
 
 The bom in sorrow shall bring forth in joy ; 
 
 Thy mercy, Lord, shall lead thy children home ; 
 He that went forth a tender yearling boy. 
 
 Yet, ere he die, to Salem's streets shall come. 
 And Canaan's vines for us their fruit shaU bear, 
 And Hermon's bees their honied stores prepare ; 
 And we shall kneel again in thankful prayer, 
 
 WTiere, o'er the cherub-seated God, full blazed th 
 irradiate dome.
 
 MILLMAN. 147 
 
 XCIX. 
 
 For thou wert bom of woman ! thou didst come, 
 O Holiest ! to this world of sin and gloom. 
 Not in thy dread omnipotent array ; 
 And not by thunders strewed was thy tempestuous road 
 Nor indignation burnt before thee on thy way. 
 But thee, a soft and naked cliild. 
 
 Thy mother undefiled, 
 In the rude manger laid to rest 
 From off her virgin breast. 
 
 The heavens were not commanded to prepare 
 A gorgeous canopy of golden air : 
 Nor stooped their lamps th'enthroned fires on high 
 A single silent star came wandering from afar. 
 Gliding unchecked and cahn along the liquid sky; 
 The eastern sages leading on 
 
 As at a kingly throne. 
 To lay their gold and odours sweet 
 Before thy infant feet. 
 
 The earth and ocean were not hushed to hear 
 Bright harmony from every starry sphere ; 
 Nor at thy presence brake the voice of song 
 From all the cherub choirs, and seraphs' binning lyres 
 Poured thro' the host of heaven the charmed clouds along. 
 One angel troop the strain began. 
 
 Of all the race of man 
 By simple shepherds heard alone, 
 That soft Hosanna's tone.
 
 148 MILLMAN. 
 
 And when thou didst depart, no car of flanie 
 To bear thee hence in lambent radiance came : 
 Nor visible angels mourned with drooping plumes : 
 Nor didst thou mount on high from fatal Calvary 
 With all thine own redeemed outbursting from their tombs. 
 For thou didst bear away from earth 
 
 But one of human birth, 
 The dying felon by thy side, to be 
 In Paradise with thee. 
 
 Nor o'er thy cross the clouds of vengeance brake ; 
 A little while the conscious earth did shake 
 At that foul deed by her fierce children done ; 
 A few dim hours of day the world in darkness lay; 
 Then basked in bright repose beneath the cloudless sun . 
 While thou didst sleep beneath the tomb. 
 
 Consenting to thy doom : 
 Ere yet the white-robed angel shone 
 Upon the sealed stone. 
 
 And when thou didst arise, thou didst not stand 
 With devastation in thy red right hand. 
 Plaguing the guilty city's murtherous crew ; 
 But thou didst haste to meetthy mother's coming feet, 
 And bear the words of peace unto the faithful few. 
 Then calmly, slowly didst thou rise 
 
 Into thy native skies, 
 Thy human form dissolved on high 
 In its own radiancy.
 
 MILLMAN. 149 
 
 0. 
 
 Oh ! thou that wilt not break the bruised reed. 
 Nor heap fresh ashes on the mourner's brow, 
 
 Nor rend anew the wounds that inly bleed. 
 The only balm of our afflictions thou. 
 
 Teach us to bear thy chastening wratli, oh God ! 
 
 To kiss with quivering lips— still humbly kiss thy rod ! 
 
 We bless thee, Lord, though far from Judah's land ; 
 
 Though our worn limbs are black with stripes and 
 chains ; 
 Though for stern foes we tiU the burning sand ; 
 
 And reap, for others' joy, the summer plains ; 
 We bless thee. Lord, for thou art gracious still. 
 Even though this last black drop o'erflow our cup of ill! 
 
 We bless thee for our lost, our beauteous child ; 
 
 The tears, less bitter, she hath made us weep ; 
 The weary hoxirs her graceful sports have 'guiled. 
 
 And the duU cares her voice hath sung to sleep ! 
 She was the dove of hope to our lorn ark ; 
 The only star that made the strangers' sky less dark ! 
 
 Our dove is fallen into the spoiler's net; 
 
 Rude hands defile her plumes, so chastely white ; 
 To the bereaved their one soft star is set, 
 
 And all above is sullen, cheerless night ! 
 But still we thank thee for our transient bliss,— 
 Yet, Lord, to scourge om- sins remained no way but this?
 
 150 MILLMAN. 
 
 As when our Father to Mount Moriah led 
 The blessing's heir, his age's hope and joy. 
 
 Pleased, as he roamed along with dancing tread, 
 Chid his slow sire, the fond, officious boy, 
 
 And laughed in sport to see the yellow fire 
 
 Climb up the turf. buUt shrine, his destined funeral pyre- 
 
 Even thus our joyous cliild went lightly on ; 
 
 Bashfully sportive, timorously gay, 
 Her white foot bounded from the pavement stone 
 
 Like some light bird from off the quivering spray ; 
 And back she glanced, and smiled, in blameless glee, 
 The cars, and helms, and spears, and mystic dance to 
 see. 
 
 By thee, O Lord, the gracious voice was sent 
 That bade the sire his murtherous task forego 
 
 "VMien to his home the child of Abraham went 
 His mother's tears had scarce begun to flow. 
 
 Alas ! and lurks there, in the thicket's shade, 
 
 The victim to replace our lost, devoted maid ? 
 
 Lord, even through thee to hope were now too bold 
 Yet 'twere to doubt thy mercy to despair. 
 
 'Tis anguish, yet 'tis comfort, faint and cold, 
 To think how sad we Eire, how blest we were 1 
 
 To speak of her is wretchedness, and yet 
 
 It were a grief more deep and bitterer to forget !
 
 MILLMAN. 151 
 
 Oh Lord our God ! — why was she e'er our own ? 
 
 Why is she not our own— our treasure still 1 
 We could have passed our heavy years alone. 
 
 Alas ! is this to bow us to thy will ? 
 Ah, even our humblest prayers we make repine, 
 Nor, prostrate hus on earth, our hearts to thee resign. 
 
 Forgive, forgive— even should our full hearts break ; 
 
 The broken heart thou wilt not, Lord, despise : 
 Ah ! thou art still too gracious to forsake. 
 
 Though thy strong hand so heavily chastise. 
 Hear all our prayers, hear not our murmurs, Lord ; 
 And, though our lips rebel, still make thyself adored. 
 
 CL 
 
 For thou didst die for me, oh Son of God ! 
 
 By thee the throbbing flesh of man was worn ; 
 Thy naked feet the thorns of sorrow trod. 
 And tempests beat thy houseless head forlorn. 
 Thou, that wert wont to stand 
 Alone, on God's right hand. 
 Before the ages were, the Eternal, eldest born.
 
 152 MILLMAN. 
 
 Thy birthright ia the world was pala and grief, 
 
 Thy love's return ingratitude and hate ; 
 Tlie limbs thou healedst brought thee no relief, 
 Tlie eyes thou openedst calmly viewed thy fate: 
 Thou, that wert wont to dweU 
 In peace, tongue cannot teU, 
 Nor heart conceive the bliss of thy celestial state. 
 
 They dragged thee to the Roman's solemn haU, 
 
 Where the proud judge in purple splendour sate ; 
 Thou stoodst a meek and patient criminal. 
 Thy doom of death from human lips to wait ; 
 \Miose throne shaU be the world 
 In final ruin hurled, 
 With all mankind to hear their everlasting fate. 
 
 Thou wert alone in that fierce multitude, 
 
 \Mien " Crucify him !" yeUed the general shout ; 
 No hand to guard thee mid those insults rude, 
 Nor lip to bless in all that frantic rout ; 
 Whose lightest whispered word 
 The SerapMm had heard. 
 And adamantine arms from aU the heavens broke out 
 
 They bound thy temples vdth the twisted thorn, 
 Thy bruised feet went languid on vrith pain ; 
 Tlie blood, from aU thy flesh with scourges torn, 
 Deepened thy robe of mocker>''s crimson grain; 
 Whose native vesture bright 
 Was the unapproached light. 
 The sandal of whose foot the rapid hurricane.
 
 MILLMAN. 153 
 
 They smote thy cheek with many a ruthless palm, 
 
 With the cold spear thy shuddering side they pierced ; 
 The draught of bitterest gall was all the balm 
 Tliey gave, t'enhance thy unslaked, burning thirst : 
 Tliou, at whose words of peace 
 Did pain and anguish cease, 
 And the long buried dead their bonds of slumber burst. 
 
 Low bowed thy head convulsed, and, drooped in death. 
 
 Thy voice sent forth a sad and wailing cry ; 
 Slow struggled from thy breast the parting breath, 
 And every limb was wiaing with agony. 
 That head, whose veilless blaze 
 Filled angels with amaze. 
 When atthatvoice sprang forth the rolling suns on high. 
 
 And thou wert laid within the narrow tomb. 
 
 Thy clay-cold limbs with shrouding grave-clothes bound . 
 The sealed stone confinned thy mortal doom, 
 Lone watchmen walked thy desert burial ground, 
 ^Vhom heaven could not contain. 
 Nor th' immeasurable plain 
 Of vast Infinity inclose or circle round. 
 
 For us, for us, thou didst endure the pain, 
 
 And thy meek spirit bowed itself to shame. 
 To wash our soiils from sin's infecting stain, 
 T'avert the Father's wrathful vengeance flame : 
 Thou, that couldst nothing win 
 By saving worlds from sin. 
 Nor aught of glory add to thy all- glorious name.
 
 MILLMAN, 
 
 CII. 
 
 Bound upon th' accursed tree 
 Faint and bleeding, -who is He ? 
 By the eyes so pale and dim, 
 Streaming blood, and writhing limb, 
 By the flesh with scourges torn. 
 By the crown of twisted thorn, 
 By the side so deeply pierced, 
 By the baflied burning thirst, 
 By the drooping death- dewed brow. 
 Son of Man ! 'tis Thou ! 'tis Thou ! 
 
 Bound upon th' accursed tree. 
 Dread and awful, who is He ? 
 By the sun at noon-day pale. 
 Shivering rocks, and rending veil. 
 By earth that trembles at His doom. 
 By yonder saints who burst their tomb. 
 By Eden, promised ere He died 
 To the felon at his side. 
 Lord ! our suppliant knees we bow, 
 Son of God ! 'tis Thou! 'tis Thou !
 
 MILLMAN. 155 
 
 Bound upon th' accursed txee. 
 Sad and dying, who is He ? 
 By the last and bitter cry. 
 The ghost given up in agony ; 
 By the lifeless body laid 
 In the chamber of the dead; 
 By the moomers come to weep 
 Where the bones of Jesus sleep ; 
 Crucified ! we know Thee now ; 
 Son of Man ! 'tis Thou ! 'tis Thou ; 
 
 Bound upon th' accursed tree, 
 Dread and awful, who is He ? 
 By the prayer for them that slew, 
 ' Lord ! they know not what they do ! 
 By the spoUed and empty grave, 
 By the souls he died to save. 
 By the conquest he hath won, 
 By the saints before his throne, 
 By the rainbow round his brow. 
 Son of God ! 'tis Thou ! 'tis Thou !
 
 156 MILLMAN. 
 
 cm. 
 
 Brother, thou art gone before us, 
 
 And thy saintly soul is flown 
 WTiere tears are wiped from every eye, 
 
 And sorrow is unknown ; 
 From the burthen of the flesh, 
 
 And from care and fear released, 
 Where the wicked cease from troubling, 
 
 And the weary are at rest. 
 
 Tlie toilsome way thou'st travelled o'er, 
 
 And borne the heavy load. 
 But Christ hath taught thy languid feet 
 
 To reach his blest abode. 
 Thou'rt sleeping now, like Lazarus 
 
 Upon his father's breast, 
 Where the wicked cease from troubling, 
 
 And the wear>' are at rest. 
 
 Sin can never taint thee now, 
 
 Nor doubt thy faith assail, 
 Nor thy meek trust in Jesus Christ 
 
 And the Holy Spirit fail. 
 And there thou'rt sure to meet the good. 
 
 Whom on earth thou lovedst best. 
 Where the wicked cease from troubling. 
 
 And the weary are at rest. 
 
 I
 
 MILLMAN. 157 
 
 " Earth to earth," and " Dust to dust," 
 
 The solemn priest hath said. 
 So we lay the turf above thee now, 
 
 And we seal thy narrow bed : 
 But thy spirit, brother, soars away 
 
 Among the faithful blest. 
 Where the wicked cease from troubling. 
 
 And the weaiy are at rest. 
 
 .\nd when the Lord shall summon us. 
 
 Whom thou hast left behind. 
 May we, untainted by the world. 
 
 As sure a welcome find ; 
 May each, like thee, depart in peace. 
 
 To be a glorious guest. 
 Where the wicked cease from troubling. 
 
 And the weary are at rest.
 
 Hilton. 
 
 CIV. 
 
 Whex faith and love, which parted from thee never, 
 Had ripened thy just soul to dwell with God, 
 Meekly thou didst resign this earthly load 
 Of death, called life ; which us from life doth sever. 
 
 Thy works, and alms, and all thy good endeavour. 
 Staid not behind, nor in the grave were trod ; 
 But, as faith pointed -with her golden rod, 
 Followed thee up to joy and bliss for ever ! 
 
 Love led them on, and faith, who knew them best 
 Thy handmaids, clad them o'er with purple beams 
 And azure wings, that up they flew so dressed. 
 
 And spake the truth of thee in glorious themes 
 Before the Judge ; who thenceforth bid thee rest, 
 And drink thy fill of pure immortal streams.
 
 MILTON. 159 
 
 CV. 
 
 Blest pair of Syrens, pledges of Heaven's joy, 
 
 Sphere-bom harmonious sisters, Voice and Verse, 
 
 Wed your divinest sounds, and mixed power employ 
 
 Dead things with inbreathed sense able to pierce ; 
 
 And to our high raised phantasy present 
 
 That undisturbed song of pure concent, 
 
 Aye sung before the-sapphire coloured throne. 
 
 To him that sits thereon. 
 
 With saintly shout, and solemn jubilee ; 
 
 Where the bright seraphim, in burning row. 
 
 Their loud uplifted angel-trumpets blow ; 
 
 And the cherubic host, in thousand quires. 
 
 Touch their immortal harps of golden wires, 
 
 With those just spirits that wear victorious palms. 
 
 Hymns devout and holy psalms 
 
 Singing everlastingly : 
 
 That we on earth, with undiscording voice 
 
 May rightly answer that melodious noise ; 
 
 As once we did, tiU disproportioned sin 
 
 Jarred against natvu-e's chime, and with harsh din 
 
 Broke the fair music that aU creatures made. 
 
 To their great Lord, whose love their motion swayed 
 
 In perfect diapason, whilst they stood 
 
 In first obedience, and their state of good. 
 
 Oh, may we soon again renew that song. 
 
 And keep in tune with heaven, till God e're long 
 
 To his celestial concert us unite. 
 
 To live with him, and sing in endless mom of light.
 
 MILTON. 
 
 CVI. 
 
 When I consider how my light is spent 
 Ere half my days, in this dark world and wide, 
 And that one talent, which is death to hide. 
 Lodged with me useless, though my soul more bent 
 
 To serve therewith my Maker, and present 
 My true accoimt, lest he, returning, chide ; 
 " Doth God exact day-labom-, light denied >." 
 I fondly ask : But patience, to prevent 
 
 That mvuTiiur, soon replies, — " God doth not need 
 Either man's work, or his own gifts ; who best 
 Bear his mUd yoke, they serve him best; his state 
 
 Is kingly ; thousands at liis bidding speed. 
 And post o'er land and ocean without rest ; 
 They also serve, who only stand and waut."
 
 i&,ont^omtxv< 
 
 Prayer is the soul's sincere desire. 
 Uttered, or unexpressed ; 
 
 The motion of a hidden fire. 
 That trembles in the breast. 
 
 Prayer is the burden of a sigh. 
 
 The faUing of a tear ; 
 The upward glancing of an eye. 
 
 Wlien none but God is near. 
 
 Prayer is the simplest form of speech 
 
 That infant lips can try ; 
 Prayer, the sublimest strains that reach, 
 
 The Majesty on high. 
 
 M
 
 162 MONTGOMERY. 
 
 Prayer is the Christian's vital breath, 
 The Christian's native air ; 
 
 His watch- word at the gates of death 
 He enters heaven with prayer. 
 
 Prayer is the contrite sinner's voice. 
 Returning from his ways ; 
 
 "WhUe angels in their songs rejoice. 
 And cry, " Behold he prays I " 
 
 The saints in prayer appear as one, 
 In word, in deed, and mind. 
 
 While with the Father, and the Son, 
 Sweet fellowship they find. 
 
 Nor prayer is made on earth alone j 
 
 The Holy Spirit pleads. 
 And Jesus, on the eternal throne. 
 
 For mourners intercedes. 
 
 O Thou, by whom we come to God, 
 The life, the truth, the way I 
 
 The path of prayer thyself hast trod : 
 Lord, teach us how to pray I
 
 MONTGOMERY. 163 
 
 CVIII. 
 
 Oh ! God unseen, but not unknown. 
 Thine eye is ever fixed on me ; 
 I dwell beneath thy secret throne, 
 Encompassed by thy Deity. 
 
 Throughout this universe of space 
 To nothing am I long allied. 
 For flight of time, and change of place 
 My strongest, dearest bonds divide. 
 
 Parents I had, but where are they ? 
 Friends whom I knew, I know no more ; 
 Companions once that cheered my way 
 Have dropt behind or gone before. 
 
 Now I am one amidst the crowd 
 
 Of life and action hurrying round ; 
 
 Now left alone— for like a cloud 
 
 They came, they went, and are not found. 
 
 Even from myself sometimes I part. 
 Unconscious sleep is nightly death ; 
 Yet surely by my bed thou art. 
 To prompt my pulse, inspire my breath.
 
 164 MONTGOMERY. 
 
 Of all tUat I have done or said 
 
 How little can I now recal I 
 
 Forgotten things to me are dead ; 
 
 With thee they live, thou knowest them all. 
 
 Thou hast been with me from the womb, 
 Witness to every conflict here ; 
 Nor wilt thou leave me at the tomb. 
 Before thy bar I must appear. 
 
 The moment comes, when strength must fail, 
 When health, and hope, and comfort flovra, 
 I must go down into the vale 
 And shade of death, with thee alone. 
 
 Alone with thee ;— in that dread strife, 
 Uphold me through mine agony, 
 And gently be this dying life 
 Exchanged for immortality. 
 
 Then, when the unbodied spirit lands 
 Where flesh and blood have never trod, 
 And in the imveUed presence stands 
 Of Tliee, my Saviour, and my God;— 
 
 Be naine eternal portion this. 
 Since Thou wert always here with me. 
 That I may view thy face in bUss, 
 And be for evermore with Thee.
 
 MONTGOMERY. l65 
 
 CIX. 
 
 O, WHERE shall rest be found, 
 
 Rest for the weary soul ? 
 'Twere vain the ocean-depths to sound, 
 
 Or pierce to either pole : 
 
 The world can never ^ve 
 
 The bliss for which we sigh ; 
 'Tis not the whole of life to live, 
 
 Nor all of death to die. 
 
 Beyond this vale of tears, 
 There is a life above. 
 
 Unmeasured by the flight of years ; 
 And all that life is love : — 
 There is a death, whose pang 
 Outlasts the fleeting breath ; 
 
 O wliat eternal horrors hang 
 Around * the second death ! ' 
 
 Lord God of truth and grace. 
 Teach us that death to shun, 
 
 Lest we be banished from thy face. 
 And evermore undone : 
 Here would we end our quest ; 
 Alone are found in Thee 
 
 The life of perfect love,— the rest 
 Of immortality.
 
 MONTGOMERY. 
 
 ex. 
 
 Friend after friend departs j 
 
 Who hath not lost a friend ? 
 There is no union here of hearts 
 
 That finds not here an end ; 
 Were this frail world our final rest. 
 Living or dying, none were blest. 
 
 Beyond the flight of time, — 
 
 Beyond the reign of death, — 
 There surely is some blessed clime 
 
 Where life is not a breath ; 
 Nor life's affections, transient fire. 
 Whose sparks fly upwards and expire. 
 
 There is a world above. 
 
 Where parting is unknown j 
 A long eternity of love, 
 
 Formed for the good alone j 
 And faith beholds the dying, here, 
 Translated to that glorious sphere ! 
 
 Thus star by star declines. 
 
 Till all are past away. 
 As morning high and higher shines. 
 
 To pure and perfect day : 
 Nor sink those stars in empty night. 
 But hide themselves in heaven's own light. 
 
 I
 
 MONTGOMERY. 167 
 
 CXI. 
 
 " Servant of God, well done ! 
 
 Rest from thy loved employ ; 
 The battle fought, the victory won. 
 
 Enter thy Master's joy." 
 
 — The voice at midnight came. 
 
 He started up to hear ; 
 A mortal arrow pierced his frame. 
 
 He feU,— but felt no fear. 
 
 Tranquil amidst alarms, 
 
 It found him on the field, 
 A veteran slumbering on his arms, 
 
 Beneath his red-cross shield. 
 
 His sword was in his hand. 
 
 Still warm with recent fight. 
 Ready that moment, at command. 
 
 Through rock and steel to smite. 
 
 It was a two-edged blade. 
 Of heavenly temper keen ; 
 
 And double were the wounds it made. 
 Where'er it glanced between : 
 'Twas death to sin,— 'twas life 
 To all who mourned for sin j 
 
 It kindled, and it silenced, strife. 
 Made war, and peace, within.
 
 168 MONTGOMERY. 
 
 Oft with its fiery force 
 
 His arm had quelled the foe, 
 
 And laid, resistless in his course, 
 The alien -armies low. 
 Bent on such glorious toUs, 
 The world to him was loss j 
 
 Yet all his trophies, all his spoils, 
 He hung upon the cross. 
 
 At midnight came the cry, 
 
 " To meet thy God prepare 1 " 
 He woke, — and caught his Captain's eye 
 
 Then, strong in faith and prayer, 
 
 His spirit, -with a bound. 
 
 Left its encumbering clay ; 
 His tent, at sun-rise, on the ground, 
 
 A darkened ruin lay. 
 
 The pains of death are past, 
 
 Labour and sorrow cease ; 
 And, life's long warfare closed at last, 
 
 His soul is found in peace. 
 
 Soldier of Christ, well done ! 
 
 Praise be thy new employ ; 
 And while eternal siges run. 
 
 Rest in thy Saviour's joy.
 
 MONTGOMERY. 1 69 
 
 CXII. 
 
 This shadow on the dial's face. 
 
 That steals, from day to day. 
 With slow, vmseen, unceasing pace. 
 
 Moments, and months, and years away ; 
 This shadow, which, in ever^^ clime. 
 
 Since light and motion first began. 
 Hath held its course sublime ; 
 
 What is it ? mortal man ! 
 It is the scythe of time : 
 — A shadow only to the eye ; 
 
 Yet, in its calm career. 
 It levels all beneath the sky ; 
 
 And stiU, through each succeeding year, 
 Right onward, with resistless power. 
 Its stroke shall darken every hour, 
 Till nature's race be run. 
 And time's last shadow shaU eclipse the sun. 
 
 Nor only o'er the dial's face. 
 
 This silent phantom, day by day. 
 With slow, unseen, unceasing pace, 
 
 Steals moments, months, and years away ; 
 From hoary rock, and aged tree. 
 
 From proud Palmyra's mouldeiing walls. 
 From Teneriffe, towering o'er the sea. 
 
 From every blade of grass, it falls ;
 
 170 MONTGOMERY. 
 
 For still -where'er a shadow sweeps. 
 
 The scythe of time destroys, 
 And man at every footstep weeps 
 
 O'er evanescent joys ; 
 Life flowerets glittering with the dews of morn. 
 Fair for a moment, then for ever shorn : 
 — Ah ! soon, beneath the inevitable blow, 
 I too shall lie, in dust and darkness low. 
 
 Then time, the conqueror, will suspend 
 
 His scythe, a trophy, o'er my tomb. 
 Whose moving shadow shall portend 
 
 Each frail beholder's doom. 
 O'er the wide earth's illumined space, 
 
 Though time's triumphant flight be shown,— 
 The truest index on its face, 
 
 Points from the churchyard stone.
 
 ^tiuton. 
 
 . CXIII. 
 
 In every object here I see 
 
 Something-, O Lord, that leads to thee : 
 Firm as the rocks thy promise stands, 
 Thy mercies, countless as the sands ; 
 Thy love, a sea immensely wide. 
 Thy grace, an ever-flowing tide. 
 
 In every object here I see 
 
 Something, my heart, that points at thee : 
 Hard as the rocks that bound the strand, 
 Unfruitful as the barren sand. 
 Deep and deceitful as the ocean. 
 And, like the tides, in constant motion.
 
 172 NEWTON. 
 
 CXIV. 
 
 How sweet the name of Jesus sounds 
 
 In a believer's ear ! 
 It soothes his sorrows, heals his wounds. 
 
 And drives away his fear. 
 
 It makes the wounded spirit whole. 
 It calms the troubled breast ; 
 
 'Tis manna to the hungry soul, 
 And to the weary, rest. 
 
 Dear name 1 the rock on which I build ! 
 
 My shield and hiding-place ; 
 My never-failing treasury, filled 
 
 With boimdless stores of grace. 
 
 Jesus ! my shepherd, husband, friend. 
 My prophet, priest, and king j 
 
 My Lord, my life, my way, my end. 
 Accept the praise I bring. 
 
 Weak is the eflfort of my heart, 
 And cold my warmest thought ; 
 
 But when I see thee as thou art, 
 I'll praise thee as I ought.
 
 NEWTON. 173 
 
 cxv. 
 
 In vain our fancy strives to paint 
 The moment after death, 
 
 The glories that surround the saint. 
 When he resigns his breath. 
 
 One gentle sigh his fetters breaks ; 
 
 We scarce can say, * he's gone,' 
 Before the willing spirit takes 
 
 Her mansion near the throne. 
 
 Faith strives, but all its efforts fail. 
 To trace her heavenward flight ; 
 
 No eye can pierce within the veil 
 Which hides that world of light. 
 
 Thus much (and this is all) we know. 
 
 They are supremely blest ; 
 Have done with sin, and care, and woe, 
 
 And with their Saviour rest. 
 
 On harps of gold his name they praise. 
 His presence always view ;— 
 
 And if we here their footsteps trace, 
 There we shall praise Him too.
 
 174 NEWTON. 
 
 CXVI. 
 
 I ASKED the Lord, that I might grow 
 In faith, and love, and every grace ; 
 Might more of his salvation know. 
 And seek more earnestly his face. 
 
 Twas He who taught me thus to pray. 
 And He, I trust, has answered prayerj 
 But it has been in such a way 
 As almost drove me to despair. 
 
 I hoped that in some favoured hour. 
 At once He'd answer my request ; 
 And, by his love's constraining power, 
 Subdue my sins, and give me rest. 
 
 Instead of this, He made me feel 
 The hidden evils of my heart ; 
 And let the angry powers of hell 
 Assault my soul in every part. 
 
 Yea more, with his own hand He seemed 
 Intent to aggravate my woe ; 
 Crossed aU the fair designs I schemed. 
 Blasted my goiu-ds, and laid me low.
 
 NEWTON. 175 
 
 Lord, why is this ? I trembling cried, 
 WUt thou pursue thy worm to death ? — 
 " 'Tis in this way ! " the Lord replied, 
 " 1 answer prayer for grace and faith." 
 
 " These inward trials I emploj^. 
 From self and pride to set thee free ; 
 And break thy schemes of earthly joy. 
 That thou mayest seek thy all in Me." 
 
 CXVII. 
 
 That man no guard or weapon needs, 
 Whose heart the blood of Jesus knows ; 
 But safe may pass, if duty leads. 
 Through burning sands, or mountain snows. 
 
 Released from guilt, he feels no fear ; 
 Redemption is his shield and tower ; 
 He sees his Saviour always near. 
 To help in every trying hour. 
 
 Though I am weak, and Satan strong. 
 And often to assault me tries ; 
 When Jesus is my strength and song, 
 Abashed the wolf before me flies.
 
 NEWTON. 
 
 His love possessing, I am blest, 
 Secure whatever change may come : 
 WTiether I go to east or west. 
 With him I still shall be at home. 
 
 If placed beneath the northern pole, 
 Though winter reigns vrith rigour there, 
 His gracious beams would cheer my soul, 
 And make a spring throughout the year. 
 
 Or, if the desert's sun- burnt soil 
 My lonely dwelling e'er should prove. 
 His presence would support my toil. 
 Whose smile is life, whose voice is love. 
 
 CXVIII. 
 
 Oft as the bell, with solemn toll. 
 Speaks the departure of a soul, 
 Let each from vainer trifles fly. 
 And ask, " Am I prepared to die ? " 
 
 Soon, leaving all I love below. 
 
 To Gtod's tribunal I must go ; 
 
 Must hear the judge pronounce my fate, 
 
 And fix my everlasting state.
 
 NEWTON, 1/7 
 
 But could I bear to hear him say, 
 
 " Depart, accursed, far away ! 
 
 " With Satan, in the lowest hell, 
 
 " Thou art for ever doomed to dwell ! " 
 
 Lord Jesus, help me now to flee 
 And seek my hope alone in thee : 
 Thy cleansing blood, thy Spirit give, 
 Subdue my sins, and bid me live ! 
 
 Then, when the solemn bell I hear, 
 If saved from guilt, I need not fear ; 
 Nor would the thought alarming be, 
 " Perhaps it next may toU for me." 
 
 Rather, my spirit would rejoice, 
 And wish and long to hear thy voice ; 
 Glad, when it bids me earth resign, 
 Seciu-e of heaven, if thou art mine .'
 
 ma. 
 
 CXIX. 
 
 When musing sorrow -weeps the past. 
 And mourns the present pain, 
 
 How sweet to think of peace at last. 
 And feel that death is gain 1 
 
 'Tis not that murmuring thoughts arise. 
 
 And dread a Father's will ; 
 'Tis not that meek submission flies. 
 
 And would not suffer still : 
 
 It is that heaven-taught faith surveys 
 The path to realms of light ; 
 
 And longs her eagle plumes to raise, 
 And lose herself in sight.
 
 NOEL. 179 
 
 It is that hope with ardour glows. 
 
 To see him face to face, 
 Whose dying love no language knows 
 
 Sufficient art to trace. 
 
 It is that harassed conscience feels 
 The pangs of struggling sin ; 
 
 Sees, though afjir, the hand that heals, 
 And ends her war within. 
 
 Oh ! let me wing my hallowed flight 
 From earth-born woe and care ; 
 
 And soar beyond these realms of night. 
 My Saviour's bliss to share. 
 
 cxx. 
 
 When restless on my bed I lie,' 
 Still courting sleep, which still wiU fly. 
 Then shall reflection's brighter power 
 Illume the lone and midnight hour. 
 
 If hushed the breeze and cahn the tide. 
 Soft wiU the stream of memory glide, 
 And aU the past, a gentle train, 
 Waked by remembrance, live again.
 
 NOEL. 
 
 Perhaps that anxious friend I trace, 
 Beloved till life's last throb shall cease, 
 Whose voice first taught a Saviour's worth, 
 And future bliss unknown on earth. 
 
 His faithful counsel, tender care. 
 Unwearied love, and humble prayer 
 O these still claim the grateful tear. 
 And all my drooping courage cheer. 
 
 If loud the wind, the tempest high. 
 And darkness wraps the sullen sky, 
 I muse on life's tempestuous sea. 
 And sigh, O Lord, to come to thee. 
 
 Tossed on the deep and swelling wave, 
 O mark my trembling sonl, and save ; 
 Give to my view that harbour near, 
 Where thou wilt chase each grief and fear.
 
 NOEL. 
 
 CXXI. 
 
 If human kindness meets return. 
 
 And owns the grateful tie ; 
 If tender thoughts within us bum. 
 
 To feel a friend is nigh : 
 
 Oh 1 shall not warmer accents tell 
 
 The gratitude we owe' 
 To him who died, our fears to quell. 
 
 Our more than orphan's woe I 
 
 While yet his anguished soul surveyed 
 Those pangs he would not flee ; 
 
 What love his latest words displayed, 
 " Meet and remember me ! " 
 
 Remember Thee ! thy death, thy shame. 
 
 Our sinful hearts to share 1 
 O memory, leave no other name. 
 
 But His, recorded there !
 
 (3lihtv. 
 
 CXXII. 
 
 The God of Abraham praise, 
 Who reigns enthroned above ; 
 Ancient of everlasting days, 
 
 And God of love : 
 Jehovah, Great I AM, 
 By earth and heaven confest, 
 I bow, and bless the sacred name, 
 
 For ever blest. 
 
 The God of Abraham praise, 
 At vphose supreme command. 
 From earth I rise, and seek the joys 
 
 At his right hand : 
 I aU on earth forsake, 
 Its wisdom, fame, and power. 
 And Him my only portion make. 
 
 My shield and tower.
 
 OLIVER. 
 
 The God of Abraham praise. 
 
 Whose all-sufficient grace, 
 
 ShaU guide me through this pilgrimage, 
 
 In aU his ways ; 
 He caUs a worm his friend ! 
 He calls himself my God 1 
 And he shaU save me to the end. 
 
 Through Jesus' blood. 
 
 He by Himself hath sworn ; 
 
 I on his oath depend, 
 
 I shall, on eagles' wings up-borne, 
 
 To heaven ascend : 
 I shall behold his face, 
 I shall his power adore, 
 And sing the wonders of his grace 
 
 For evermore. 
 
 Though nature's strength decay, 
 
 And earth and hell withstand. 
 
 To Canaan's bounds I urge my way. 
 
 At his command : 
 The watery deep I pass. 
 With Jesus in my view ; 
 And through the howling wilderness 
 
 My way pursue. 
 
 The goodly land I see, 
 With peace and plenty blest, 
 A land of sacred liberty 
 And endless rest :
 
 184 OLIVER. 
 
 There milk and honey flow, 
 And oil and wine aboimd. 
 And trees of life for ever grow. 
 With mercy crowned. 
 
 There dwells the Lord our King, 
 The Lord our righteousness ; 
 Triumphant o'er the world and sin, 
 
 The Prince of peace : 
 On Sion's sacred height. 
 His kingdom still maintains ; 
 And glorious, with his saints in light 
 
 For ever reigns. 
 
 He keeps his own secure. 
 He guards them by his side. 
 Arrays in garments white and p\rre 
 
 His spotless bride ; 
 With streams of sacred bliss, 
 With groves of hving joys, 
 With all the fruits of paradise. 
 
 He stiU supplies. 
 
 Before the Three in One, 
 They all exulting stand. 
 And tell the wonders he hath done. 
 
 Through all their land. 
 The listening spheres attend 
 And swell the growing fame. 
 And sing, in songs which never end. 
 
 The wondrous name.
 
 OLIVER. 
 
 The God who reigns on high, 
 The great arch-angels sing. 
 And, " Holy, Holy, Holy," cry, 
 
 *' Almighty King : 
 Who was, and is the same. 
 And evermore shall be ; 
 Jehovah— Father— Great I AM, 
 
 We worship Thee." 
 
 Before the Saviour's face 
 The ransomed nations bow; 
 O'erwhelmed at his Almighty grace, 
 
 For ever new. 
 He shows his prints of love, 
 They kindle to a flame. 
 And sound, through all the world above. 
 
 The slaughtered Lamb. 
 
 The whole triumphant host 
 Give thanks to God on high ; 
 Hail, Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, 
 
 They ever cry : 
 Hail, Abraham's God and mine, 
 I join the heavenly lays ; 
 All might and majesty be thine. 
 
 And endless praise.
 
 (JHuarlc^. 
 
 Wages of Sin is death : the day is come, 
 
 Wherein the equal hand of death must sum 
 
 The several items of man's fading glory 
 
 Into the easy total of one story. 
 
 The brows that sweat for kingdoms and renown, 
 
 To glorify their temples with a crown ; 
 
 At length grow cold, and leave their honoured name 
 
 To flourish in the uncertain blast of fame. 
 
 This is the height that glorious mortals can 
 
 Attain ; this is the highest pitch of man. 
 
 The mighty conqueror of the earth's great ball, 
 
 \^^lose unconfined limits were too small 
 
 For his extreme ambition to deserve, — 
 
 Six feet of length and three of breadth must serve, 
 
 This is the highest pitch that man can fly ; 
 
 While, after all his triimaph, he must die.
 
 QUARLES. 
 
 Lives he in wealth ? Doth well- deserved store 
 Limit his wish, that he can wish no more ? 
 And does the fairest bounty of increase 
 Crown him with plenty, and his days with peace i 
 It is a right-hand blessing : but supply 
 Of wealth cannot secure him ; he must die. 
 Lives he in pleasure ? Does perpetual mirth 
 Lend him a little heaven upon this earth ? 
 Meets he no sudden care, no sudden loss 
 To cool his joj's ? Breathes he without a cross ? 
 Wants he no pleasure that his wanton eye 
 Can crave or hope from fortune ? He must die. 
 
 Lives he in honour ? hath his fair desert 
 Obtained the freedom of his prince's heart ? 
 Or may his more familiar hands disburse 
 His liberal favors from the royal purse ? 
 Alas 1 his honour cannot soar too high 
 For pale-faced Death to follow ; he must die. 
 
 Lives he a conqueror ? and doth heaven bless 
 His heart with spirit, that spirit with success ; 
 Success with glory ; glory with a name 
 To live with the eternity of fame ? 
 The progress of his lasting fame may vie 
 With time : but yet the conqueror must die. 
 
 Great and good God ! thou Lord of life and death. 
 In whom the creature hath its being, breath ; 
 Teach me to under-prize this life, and I 
 Shall find my loss the easier when I die.
 
 188 QUARLES. 
 
 So raise my feeble thoughts and dull desire, 
 That, when these vain and weary days expire, 
 I may discard my flesh with joy, and quit 
 My better part of this false earth, and it 
 Of some more sin ; and for this transitory 
 And tedious life enjoy a life of glory. 
 
 cxxnr. 
 
 Ah ! whither shaU I fly ? what path xmtrod 
 Shall I seek out to 'scape the flaming rod 
 Of my off"ended, of my angry God ? 
 
 Where shall I sojourn ? what kind sea will hide 
 My head from thunder ? where shall I abide. 
 Until his flames be quenched or laid aside ? 
 
 What if their feet should take their hasty flight. 
 And seek protection in the shades of night .' 
 Alas! no shades can blind the God of light. 
 
 Wliat if my soul should take the wings of day. 
 And find some desert , if she spring away, 
 The wings of vengeance wave as fast as they.
 
 QUARLES. 189 
 
 Wliat if some solid rock should entertain 
 My frighted soul ? can solid rocks restrain 
 The stroke of justice, and not cleave in twain ? 
 
 Nor sea, nor shade, nor shield, nor rock, nor cave. 
 
 Nor silent deserts, nor the sUent grave. 
 
 Where flame- eyed fury means to smite, can save. 
 
 "Tis vain to flee ; 'tiU gentle mercy show 
 
 Her better eye, the further oflF we go. 
 
 The swing of justice deals the mightier blow. 
 
 The ingenuous child, corrected, doth not fly 
 His angry mother's hand, but clings more nigh. 
 And quenches with his tears her flaming eye. 
 
 Great God 1 there is no safety here below. 
 
 Thou art my fortress, thou that seem'st my foe, 
 
 'Tis thou, that strikest the stroke, must guard the blow.
 
 31^obms'on, 
 
 cxxv. 
 
 Sweet the moments, rich in blessing, 
 Which before the cross I spend j 
 Life, and health, and peace, possessing 
 From the sinner's dying friend. 
 Here I'll sit for ever vie\NTng 
 Mercy's streams in streams of blood. 
 Precious drops, my soul bedewing, 
 Plead and claim my peace with God. 
 Love and grief my heart dividing. 
 Gazing here I'd spend my breath ; 
 Constamt still in faith abiding, 
 Life deri\'ing from his death : 
 Lord, in ceaseless contemplation. 
 Fix my heart and eyes on thine. 
 Till 1 taste thy whole salvation. 
 Where unveiled thy glories shine !
 
 i^oj^common. 
 
 cxxvi. 
 
 The last loud trumpet's wondrous sound 
 Shall through the rending tombs rebound. 
 And wake the nations under ground. 
 
 Nature and death shall with surprise 
 
 Behold the pale offenders rise, 
 
 And view the Judge with conscious eyes. 
 
 Then shall, with universal dread. 
 The sacred, mystic book be read. 
 To try the living and the dead. 
 
 The Judge ascends his awful throne ; 
 He makes each secret sin be known. 
 And all with shame confess their own.
 
 192 ROSCOMMON. 
 
 O then ! what interest shall I make, 
 With whom shall I my refuge take. 
 When the most just have cause to quake i 
 
 Thou mighty, formidable king, 
 Thou mercy's unexhausted spring. 
 Some comfortable pity bring ! 
 
 Forget not what my ransom cost. 
 Nor let my dear-bought soul be lost, 
 In storms of guilty terror tost. 
 
 Thou who for me didst feel such pain, 
 Whose precious blood the cross did stain, 
 Let not those agonies be vain ! 
 
 Thou whom avenging powers obey. 
 Cancel my debt (too great to pay) 
 Before the last accounting day. 
 
 Surrounded with amazing fears, 
 
 "VNTiose weight my soul with anguish bears, 
 
 I sigh, I weep, accept my tears : 
 
 Thou who wert moved with Mary's grief, 
 And, by absolving of the thief, 
 Hast given me hope, now give relief.
 
 ?cott. 
 
 CXXVII. 
 
 When Israel, of the Lord beloved, 
 Out from the land of bondage came, 
 Her fathers' God before her moved, 
 An awful guide, in smoke and flame. 
 By day, along the astonished lands 
 The cloudy piUar glided slow ; 
 By night, Arabia's crimsoned sands 
 Returned the fiery column's glow. 
 
 There rose the choral hymn of praise, 
 And trump and timbrel answered keen. 
 And Zion's daughters poured their lays, 
 With priest's and warrior's voice between. 
 No portents now our foes amaze. 
 Forsaken Israel wanders lone : 
 Our fathers would not know thy ways. 
 And THOU hast left them to their own. 
 o
 
 194 SCOTT. 
 
 But, present still, though now unseen ! 
 When brightly shines the prosperous day, 
 Be thoughts of thee a cloudy screen 
 To temper the deceitful ray. 
 And Oh ! when stoops on Judah'spath 
 In shade and storm the frequent night, 
 Be THOU, long-sufifering, slow to wrath, 
 A burning and a shining light ! 
 
 Our harps we left by Babel's streams, 
 The tyrant's jest, the Gentile's scorn j 
 No censer round our altar beams. 
 And mute our timbrel, tiiimp, and horn . 
 But THOU hast said, the blood of goat, 
 The flesh of rams, I %vill not prize; 
 A contrite heart, an humble thought. 
 Are mine accepted sacrifice.
 
 ^ptniStr. 
 
 And is there care in heaven ? and is there love 
 In heavenly spirits to these creatures base, 
 That may compassion of their evUs move ? 
 There is ;— else much more wretched were the case 
 Of men than beasts. But oh! the exceeding grace 
 Of highest God ! that loves his creatures so, 
 And all his works with mercy doth embrace, 
 That blessed angels he sends to and fro. 
 To serve to wicked man, to serve his wicked foe. 
 
 How oft do they their silver bowers leave 
 To come to succour us that succour want .' 
 How oft do they with golden pinions cleave 
 The flitting skies, like flying pursuivant, 
 Against foul fiends to aid us militant > 
 They for us figlit, they watch and duly ward, 
 And their bright squadrons round about us plant 
 And all for love, and nothing for reward : 
 Oh ! why should heavenly God to man have such regard !
 
 )tctXt. 
 
 CXXIX. 
 
 In vain the erring world inquires 
 For some substantial good ; 
 
 While earth confines their low desires, 
 They live on airy food. 
 
 Illusive dreams of happiness 
 Their eager thoughts employ ; 
 
 They wake, convinced their boasted bliss 
 Was visionary joy. 
 
 Begone, ye gilded vanities ! 
 
 I seek some solid good : 
 To real bliss my wishes rise — 
 
 The favor of my God.
 
 STEELE. m 
 
 Immortal joy thy smiles impart, 
 
 Heaven dawns in every ray ; 
 One glimpse of thee will cheer my heart, 
 
 And turn my night to day. 
 
 Not all the good which earth bestows 
 
 Can fill the craving mind ; 
 Its highest joys have mingled woes, 
 
 And leave a sting behind. 
 
 Should boundless wealth increase my store, 
 
 Can wealth my cares beguile ? 
 I should be wretched still, and poor. 
 
 Without thy blissful smile. 
 
 Grant, gracious God, this one request ; 
 
 Oh I be thy love alone 
 My ample portion j— here I rest, 
 
 For heaven is in the boon.
 
 1J)8 STEELE. 
 
 CXXX. 
 
 Ah ! why should this immortal mind, 
 Enslaved by sense, be thus confined. 
 
 And never, never rise ? 
 Wliy, thus amused with empty toys. 
 And soothed with visionary joys. 
 
 Forget her native skies ? 
 
 The mind was formed to mount sublime, 
 Beyord the narrow boimds of time. 
 
 To everlasting things ; 
 But earthly vapours cloud her sight. 
 And hang with cold oppressive weight 
 
 Upon her drooping wings. 
 
 The world employs its various snares. 
 Of hopes and pleasures, pains and cares, 
 
 And chained to earth I lie : 
 Wlien shall my fettered powers be free. 
 And leave these seats of vanit>'. 
 
 And upward leawi to fly. 
 
 Bright scenes of bliss, unclouded skies. 
 Invite my soul ; — O could I rise, 
 
 Nor leave a thought below ! 
 I'd bid farewell to anxious care, 
 And say to every tempting snare. 
 
 Heaven caUs, and I must go.
 
 STEELE. 199 
 
 Heaven calls, and can I yet delay > 
 Can ought on earth engage my stay ? 
 
 Ah, wretched, lingering heart! 
 Come, Lord, with strength, and life, and light. 
 Assist and guide my upward flight. 
 
 And bid the world depart. 
 
 CXXXI. 
 
 Father! whate'er of earthly bliss 
 Thy sovereign will denies ; 
 
 Accepted at thy throne of grace, 
 Let this petition rise : 
 
 Give me a calm, a thankful heart. 
 From every murmur free ; 
 
 The blessings of thy grace impart. 
 And let me live to Thee : 
 
 Let the sweet hope that thou art mine, 
 
 My life and death attend. 
 Thy presence through my journey shine. 
 
 And crown my journey's end.
 
 STEELE. 
 
 CXXXII. 
 
 Forgive, blest shade, the tributary tear. 
 That mourns thy exit from a world like this ; 
 Forgive the wish that would have kept thee here, 
 And stayed thy progress to the seats of bliss. 
 
 No more confined to grovelling scenes of night. 
 No more a tenant pent in mortal clay ; 
 Now should we rather haU thy glorious flight. 
 And track thy journey to the realms of day.
 
 ^iuaine. 
 
 CXXXIII. 
 
 There is a secret in the ways of God 
 
 With his own children, which none others know. 
 
 That sweetens all he does ; and if such peace, 
 
 While under his afflicting hand we find, 
 
 What will it be to see him as he is. 
 
 And pass the reach of aU that now disturbs 
 
 The tranquil soul's repose ? To contemplate. 
 
 In retrospect unclouded, aU the means 
 
 By which his wisdom has prepared his saints 
 
 For the vast weight of glory which remains ! 
 
 Come then, affliction, if my Father bids. 
 
 And be my frowning friend : A friend that frowns 
 
 Is better than a smiling enemy. 
 
 We welcome clouds which bring the former rain, 
 
 Tho' they the present prospect blacken round, 
 
 And shade the beauties of the opening year. 
 
 That, by their stores enriched, the earth may yield 
 
 A fruitful summer and a plenteous crop.
 
 €aU. 
 
 CXXXIV. 
 
 God is our refuge in distress, 
 
 A present help when dangers press ; 
 
 In him undaunted we'll confide : 
 Tliough earth were from her centre tossed, 
 And mountains in the ocean lost, 
 
 Tom piecemeal by the roaring tide. 
 
 A gentle stream, ■with gladness stiU 
 The city of our Lord shall fill, 
 
 The royal seat of God most high : 
 God dwells in Sion, whose fair towers 
 Shall mock th' assaults of earthly powers, 
 
 WhUe his almighty aid is nigh.
 
 TATE. 
 
 In tumults when the heathen raged. 
 And kingdoms war against us waged. 
 
 He thundered and dispersed their powers : 
 The Lord of Hosts conducts our arms. 
 Our tower of refuge in alarms, 
 
 Our fathers' guardian God and ours. 
 
 Come, see the wonders he hath wrought, 
 On earth what desolation brought ; 
 
 How he has calmed the jarring world : 
 He broke the warlike spear and bow ; 
 With them the thundering chariots too 
 
 Into devouring flames were hurled. 
 
 Submit to God's almighty sway. 
 For him the heathen shall obey. 
 
 And earth her sovereign Lord confess. 
 The God of Hosts conducts our arms. 
 Our tower of refuge in alarms. 
 
 As to our fathers in distress.
 
 204 TATE. 
 
 cxxxv. 
 
 God builds on liquid air, and forms 
 His palace-chambers in the skies ; 
 
 The clouds his chariots are, and storms 
 The swift- winged steeds with which he flies. 
 
 As bright as flame, as swift as wind. 
 His ministers heaven's palace fill ; 
 
 AU have their sundry tasks assigned ; 
 All proud to serve their Sovereign's wiU. 
 
 The various troops of sea and land 
 In sense of common want agree; 
 
 AU wait on thy dispensing hand. 
 And have their daily alms from thee. 
 
 They gather what thy stores disperse. 
 Without their trouble to provide : 
 
 Thou op'st thine hand, the Universe, 
 The craving world, is all supplied.
 
 TATE. 
 
 CXXXVI. 
 
 The Lord abounds with tender love. 
 And unexampled acts of grace ; 
 
 His wakened wrath does slowly move, 
 His wUling mercy flows apace. 
 
 God will not always harshly chide, 
 But with his anger swiftly part : 
 
 And loves his punishments to guide. 
 More by his love than oui- desert. 
 
 As high as heaven its arch extends 
 Above this little spot of clay : 
 
 So much his boundless love transcends, 
 The small respects that we can pay. 
 
 As far as 'tis from east to west. 
 So far has he our sins removed ; 
 
 Who with a father's tender breast 
 Has such as fear him always loved.
 
 TATE. 
 
 CXXXVII. 
 
 To Sion's hill I lift my eyes. 
 From thence expecting aid : 
 
 From Sion's liDl, and Sion's God, 
 Who heaven and earth has made. 
 
 Then thou, my soul, in safety rest, 
 Thy guardian wiU not sleep : 
 
 His watchful care, that Israel guards, 
 Will Israel's m.onarch keep. 
 
 Sheltered beneath the Almighty's wings 
 
 Thou shalt securely rest. 
 Where neither sun nor moon shall thee 
 
 By day or night molest. 
 
 At heme, abroad, in peace, in war, 
 Thy God shall thee defend ; 
 
 Conduct thee through life's pilgrimage 
 Safe to thy journey's end.
 
 Sfatie Cawlor. 
 
 CXXXVIII. 
 
 CoMK, ray fond fluttering heart. 
 Come, struggle to be free. 
 
 Thou and the world must part. 
 However hard it be : 
 
 My trembling spirit owns it just, 
 
 But cleaves yet closer to the dust. 
 
 Ye tempting sweets, forbear ; 
 
 Ye dearest idols, fall ; 
 My love ye must not share, 
 
 Jesus shall have it all : 
 "Tis bitter pain, 'tis cruel smart. 
 But ah ! thou must consent, my heart :
 
 JANE TAYLOR. 
 
 Ye fair enchanting throng ! 
 
 Ye golden dreams, farewell 1 
 Earth has prevailed too long, 
 
 And now I break the spell : 
 Ye cherished joys of early years ; — 
 Jesus, forgive these parting tears. 
 
 But must I part with all ? 
 
 My heart still fondly pleads ; 
 Yes, — Dagon's self must fall. 
 
 It beats, it throbs, it bleeds : 
 Is there no balm in Gilead found, 
 To sooth and heal the smarting wound 
 
 O yes, there is a balm, 
 
 A kind Physician there, 
 ^ly fevered mind to calm. 
 
 To bid me not despair : 
 Aid me, dear Saviour, set me free, 
 And I will all resign to Thee. 
 
 O may I feel thy worth, 
 
 And let no idol dare, 
 No vanity of earth, 
 
 With Thee, my Lord, compare ! 
 Now bid all worldly joys depart, 
 And reign supremely in my heart!
 
 CopIatJg. 
 
 cxxxix. 
 
 Lord, I feel a carnal mind, 
 
 That hangs about me still, 
 Vainly though I strive to bind 
 
 My own rebellious will ; 
 Is not haughtiness of heart 
 
 The gulf between my God and me ? 
 Meek Redeemer, now impart 
 
 Thine own humility. 
 
 Fain would I my Lord pursue, 
 
 Be aU my Saviour taught. 
 Do as Jesus bids me do. 
 
 And think as Jesus thought : 
 But 'tis thou must change my heart, 
 
 The perfect gift must come from thee . 
 Meek Redeemer, now impait 
 
 Thine own humility. 
 I'
 
 TOPLADY. 
 
 Lord, I cannot, must not rest. 
 
 Till I thy mind obtain, 
 Chase presumption from my breast, 
 
 And all thy mildness gain ! 
 Give me. Lord, thy gentle heart, 
 
 Thy lowly mind my portion be, 
 Meek Redeemer, now impart 
 
 Thine own humility. 
 
 Let thy cross my will control. 
 
 Confirm me to my Guide : 
 In thine image mould my soul. 
 
 And crucify my pride ; 
 Give me, Lord, a contrite heart, 
 
 A heart that always looks to thee ; 
 Meek Redeemer, now impart 
 
 Thine own humility. 
 
 Tear away my every boast, 
 
 My stubborn mind abase : 
 Saviour ! fix my only trust 
 
 In thy redeeming grace : 
 Give me a submissive heait. 
 
 From pride and self-dependence free ; 
 Meek Redeemer, now impart 
 
 Thine own humility.
 
 TOPLADY. 
 
 CXL. 
 
 When langour and disease invade 
 This trembling house of clay, 
 
 "Tis sweet to look beyond our cage, 
 And long to soar away. 
 
 Sweet to look inward, and attend 
 
 The whispers of his love j 
 Sweet to look upward to the throne. 
 
 Where Jesus pleads above. 
 
 Sweet to look back, and see my name 
 In life's fair book marked down ; 
 
 Sweet to look forward, and beholu 
 Eternal joy my own. 
 
 Sweet to reflect how grace divine 
 
 My sins on Jesus laid ; 
 Sweet to remember that thy death 
 
 My debt of suffering paid. 
 
 Sweet on thy faithfulness to rest, 
 Whose love can never end ; 
 
 Sweet on thy covenant of grace 
 For all things to depend.
 
 TOPLADY. 
 
 Sweet in the confidence of faith. 
 To trust thy truth divine ; 
 
 Sweet to lie passive in thy hands, 
 And have no will but thine. 
 
 If such the sweetness of the streams. 
 
 What will that fountain be, 
 Where saints and angels draw their bliss 
 
 Immediately from thee ! 
 
 CXLI. 
 
 "Tis sweet to rest in lively hope, 
 That when the change shall come, 
 
 Angels will hover round my bed, 
 And waft my spirit' home. 
 
 There shall my dis-imprisoned soul. 
 
 Behold him and adore ; 
 Be with his likeness satisfied. 
 
 And grieve, and sin, no more. 
 
 Shall see him wear that very flesh, 
 On which my guilt was lain; 
 
 His love intense, his merit fresh, 
 As though but newly slain.
 
 TOPLADY. 2 
 
 Soon, too, my slvimbering dust shall hear, 
 The trumpet's quickening sound I 
 
 And by my Saviour's power rebuilt. 
 At his right hand be found. 
 
 These eyes shall see him in that day. 
 
 The God that died for me ; 
 And all my rising bones shall say, 
 
 Lord, who is like to thee ! 
 
 If such the views which grace unfolds. 
 
 Weak as it is below. 
 What raptures must the church above. 
 
 In Jesus' presence know ! 
 
 O may the imction of these truths. 
 
 For ever with me stay. 
 Till, from her sinful cage dismissed. 
 
 My spirit flies away ! 
 
 CXLII. 
 
 At anchor laid, remote from home. 
 Toiling, I cry, • Sweet Spirit, come,' 
 Celestial breeze, no longer stay. 
 But sweU my sails and speed my way. 
 
 Fain would I mount, fain would I glow, 
 
 And loose my cable from below ; 
 
 But I can only spread my sail. 
 
 Thou, thou must breathe the auspicious gale.
 
 TOPLADY. 
 
 CXLIII. 
 
 Happiness, thou lovely name, 
 Where's thy seat, O tell me, where 1 
 
 Learning, pleasure, wealth, and fame, 
 AH cry out, — ' It is not here : ' 
 
 Not the wisdom of the wise 
 
 Can inform me where it lies; 
 
 Not the grandeur of the great 
 
 Can the bliss I seek create. 
 
 Object of my first desire, 
 
 Jesus, crucified for me ! 
 All to happiness aspire, 
 
 Only to be found in thee : 
 Thee to praise, and thee to know, 
 Constitute our bliss below ; 
 Thee to see, and thee to love, 
 Constitute our bliss above. 
 
 Lord, it is not life to live. 
 
 If thy presence thou deny; 
 Lord, if thou thy presence give, 
 
 'Tis no longer death to die : 
 Source and giver of repose. 
 Singly from thy smile it flows ; 
 Peace and happiness are thine. 
 Mine they are, if thou art mine.
 
 TOPLADY. 
 
 CXLIV. 
 
 Supreme High-Priest, the pilgrim's light, 
 
 My heart for thee prepare ; 
 Thine image stamp, and deeply write 
 
 Thy superscription there : 
 Ah, let my forehead bear thy seal, 
 
 My arm thy badge retain, 
 My heart the inward witness feel 
 
 That I am born again ! 
 
 Into thy humble mansion come. 
 
 Set up thy dwelling here : 
 Possess my heart, and leave no room 
 
 For sui to harbour there : 
 Ah, give me. Lord, the single eye. 
 
 Which aims at nought but thee : 
 I fain would live, and yet not I, 
 
 But Jesus live in me. 
 
 O that the penetrating sight 
 
 And eagle's eyes were mine ! 
 Undazzled at the boundless light. 
 
 Of Majesty divine; 
 That with the armies of the sky 
 
 I, too, may sit and sing. 
 Add, Saviour, to the eagle's eye. 
 
 The dove's aspiring wing.
 
 216 TOPLADY. 
 
 CXLV 
 
 Jesus, by whose grace I live, 
 From the fear of evil kept, 
 Thou hast lengthened my reprieve, 
 Held in being whUe I slept ; 
 With the day my heart renew. 
 Let me wake thy wUl to do. 
 
 Since the last revolving dawn 
 Scattered the nocturnal cloud, 
 O how many souls have gone. 
 Unprepared to meet their God ! 
 Yet thou dost prolong my breath, 
 Nor hast sealed my eyes in death ! 
 
 O that I may keep thy word. 
 Taught by thee to watch and pray ! 
 To thy service, dearest Lord, 
 Sanctify the present day : 
 Swift its fleeting moments haste ; 
 Doomed, perhaps, to be my last ! 
 
 Crucified to all below. 
 Earth shall never be my care ; 
 Wealth and honour I forego, 
 This my only wish and prayer— 
 Thine in life and death to be, 
 Now and to eternity !
 
 TOPLADY. 217 
 
 CXLVI. 
 
 Rock of ag'es, rent for me ! 
 
 Let me hide myself in Thee ; 
 
 Let the water and the blood, 
 
 From thy riven side which flowed, 
 
 Be of sin the double cure, 
 
 Cleanse me from its guilt and power 
 
 Not the labour of my hands 
 Can fulfil Thy law's demands ; 
 Could my zeal no respite Icnow, 
 Could my tears for ever flow, 
 All for sin could not atone : 
 Thou must save, and Thou alone ! 
 
 Nothing in my hand I bring. 
 Simply to Thy cross I cling ; 
 Naked, come to Thee for dress : 
 Helpless, look to Thee for grace ; 
 Vile, I to the fountain fly ; 
 Wash me, Saviour, or 1 die. 
 
 While I draw this fleeting breath, 
 When my eyelids close in death. 
 When I soar to worlds tmknown. 
 See Thee on Thy judgment throne. 
 Rock of ages, rent for me, 
 Let me hide myself in Thee !
 
 TOPLADY. 
 
 CXLVII. 
 
 What though my frail eyelids refuse 
 Continual watchings to keep, 
 And, punctual as midnight renews. 
 Demand the refreshment of sleep ; 
 A sovereign protector I have. 
 Unseen, yet for ever at hand. 
 Unchangeably faithful to save, 
 Almighty to rule and command. 
 
 From evU secure, and its dread, 
 I rest, if my Saviour is nigh. 
 And songs his kind presence indeed 
 Shall in the night season supply ; 
 He smiles, and my comforts abound. 
 His grace as the dew shall descend. 
 And walls of salvation surround 
 The soul he delights to defend. 
 
 Kind author and groimd of my hope. 
 Thee, thee, for my God I avow. 
 My glad Ebenezer set up. 
 And own thou hast helped me till now ; 
 I muse on the years that are past. 
 Wherein my defence thou hast proved. 
 Nor wilt thou relinquish at last 
 A sinner so signally loved.
 
 TOPLADY. 
 
 CXLVIII. 
 
 Inspirer and hearer of prayer. 
 Thou feeder and guardian of thine, 
 My all to thy covenant care 
 I sleeping and waking resign ; 
 If thou art my shield and my sun. 
 The night is no darkness to me ; 
 And fast as my moments roll on. 
 Tliey bring me but nearer to thee. 
 
 Thy ministering spirits descend, 
 
 To watch while thy saints are asleep, 
 
 By day and by night they attend, 
 
 The heirs of salvation to keep ; 
 
 Bright seraphs, dispatched from the throne, 
 
 Repair to the stations assigned. 
 
 And angels elect are sent down. 
 
 To guard the elect of mankind. 
 
 Thy worship no interval knows. 
 Their fervour is still on the wing : 
 And while they protect my repose. 
 They chaunt to the praise of my king : 
 I too, at the season ordained. 
 Their chorus for ever shall join. 
 And love, and adore, without end, 
 Their faithful Creator, and mine.
 
 220 TOPLADY. 
 
 O THAT my heart was right with thee, 
 And loved thee with a perfect love : 
 O that my Lord wovild dwell in me, 
 And never from his seat remove ! 
 Jesus, apply thy pardoning blood, 
 And make this bosom fit for God. 
 
 Saviour, I dwell in awful night. 
 Until thou in my heart appear ; 
 Arise, propitious sun, and light 
 An everlasting morning there : 
 Thy presence casts the shadows by ; 
 If thou withdraw, how dark am I ! 
 
 Lord, how should thy sen^ant see, 
 Unless thou give me seeing eyes ? 
 Well may I fall, il out of thee ! 
 
 If out of thee, how should I rise ? 
 
 1 wander wide without thy aid. 
 And lose my way in midnight shade. 
 
 O let my prayer acceptance find, 
 And bring the mighty blessing down : 
 Eye-sight impart, for I am blind ; 
 And seal me thine adopted son. 
 A fallen, helpless creature take. 
 And heir of thy salvation make.
 
 Waller. 
 
 CL. 
 
 The seas are quiet when the winds are o'er. 
 So cahn are we when passions are no more ! 
 For then we know how vain it was to boast 
 Of fleeting' things, so certain to be lost. 
 
 Clouds of affection from our younger eyes 
 Conceal that emptiness which age descries : 
 The soul's dark cottage, battered and decayed. 
 Lets in new lights thro' cliinks that time has made. 
 
 Stronger by weakness, wiser, men become. 
 As they draw near to their eternal home; 
 Leaving the old, both worlds at once they view. 
 That stand upon the threshold of the new.
 
 faring. 
 
 CLI. 
 
 How sweet shall be the incense of my prayer ! 
 
 Since He who bids me, gives the power to pray, 
 I may draw near, and bring those spices rare, 
 
 That spring not forth from my unfertile clay. 
 
 Source of aU perfect gifts !— ah .' who shall lay 
 Aught at thy feet, save that by thee bestowed ? 
 
 Thine is the softening dew, the quickening ray; 
 And thine the right to reap where thou hast streAved . 
 
 Forerunner to the purchased abode ! 
 
 Oh shed thou then upon me — e'en on me, 
 Thy light to find, thy strength to tread the road, 
 
 To where the pure in heart shall dwell with thee. 
 Take aU thine own : — inspire, enkindle, raise. 
 My thoughts, my tongue, my life, to thy immortal praise!
 
 WARING. 
 
 CLII. 
 
 Plead Thou — oh plead my cause 
 
 Each self-excusing plea 
 
 My trembling soul withdraws. 
 
 And flies to Thee. 
 Where Justice rears her throne. 
 Ah! who, save thee alone. 
 May stand, O spotless One ?— 
 Plead thou my cause ! 
 
 Ah ! plead not ought of mine. 
 Before thine altar thrown : 
 Fragments — when all is thine — 
 
 All — all thine own ! 
 Thou seest what stains they bear : 
 Oh ! since each tear, each prayer. 
 Hath need of pardon there. 
 
 Plead thou my cause ! 
 
 With lips that, dj-ing, breathed 
 Blessings for words of scorn; 
 With brow where I had wreathed 
 
 The piercing thorn ; 
 With breast to whose pure tide 
 He did the weapon guide, 
 Who hath no home beside, 
 
 Plead thou my cause !
 
 WARING. 
 
 Plead — when the tempter's art, 
 To each fond hope of mine, 
 Denies this faithless heart 
 
 Can e'er be thine. 
 If slander whisper, too. 
 The sin I never knew. 
 Thou, who couldst urge the true. 
 Plead thou my cause ! 
 
 Oh ! plead my cause above : 
 Plead thine within my breast. 
 Till there thy peaceful Dove 
 
 Shall baild her nest. 
 Thou know'st this will — how frail : 
 Thou know'st— though language fail- 
 My soul's mysterious tale : — 
 
 Plead thou my cause !
 
 matti. 
 
 CLIII. 
 
 What sinners value, I resign ; 
 Lord, 'tis enough that thou art mine : 
 I shall behold thy blissful face, 
 And stand complete in righteousness. 
 
 This life's a dream, an empty show; 
 But the bright world to which I go 
 Hath joys substantial and sincere; 
 When shall I wake and find me there ? 
 
 glorious hour ! O blest abode ! 
 
 1 shall be near and like my God I 
 And flesh and sin no more control 
 The sacred pleasures of the soul. 
 
 My flesh shall slumber in the ground 
 Till the last trumpet's joyful sound : 
 Then burst the chains with sweet surprise. 
 And in my Saviour's image rise. 
 
 a
 
 WATTS. 
 
 CLIV. 
 
 Mt God, the spring of all my joys. 
 
 The life of my delights. 
 The glory of my brighter days. 
 
 And comfort of my nights. 
 
 In darkest shades, if He appear. 
 
 My dawning is begun ; 
 He is my soul's sweet morning star. 
 
 And He my rising sun. 
 
 The opening heavens around me shine. 
 
 With beams of sacred bliss, 
 WTiile Jesus shows his heart is mine. 
 
 And whispers, I am his. 
 
 My soul would leave this heavy clay. 
 
 At that transporting word, 
 Run up with joy the shining way. 
 
 To embrace my dearest Lord. 
 
 Fearless of hell and ghastly death, 
 I'd break through every foe : 
 
 The wings of love and arms of faith. 
 Should bear me conqueror through.
 
 WATTS. 227 
 
 CLV. 
 
 How sad our state by nature is. 
 
 Our sin how deep it stains ; 
 And Satan binds our captive minds. 
 
 Fast in his slavish chains. 
 
 But there's a voice of sovereign grace, 
 Sounds from the sacred word ; 
 
 ye despairing sinners, come. 
 And trust upon the Lord. 
 
 My soul obeys the Almighty call. 
 And runs to this relief ; 
 
 1 would believe thy promise. Lord, 
 O help my unbelief. 
 
 To the rich fountain of thy blood. 
 
 Incarnate God, I fly. 
 Here let me wash my spotted soul, 
 
 From crimes of deepest dye. 
 
 A guilty, weak, and helpless worm. 
 
 In thy kind arms I fall : 
 Be thou my strength and rigliteousness, 
 
 My Jesus, and my aU.
 
 WATTS. 
 
 CLVI. 
 
 There is a land of pure delight, 
 Where saints immortal reign ; 
 
 Infinite day excludes the night. 
 And pleasures banish pain. 
 
 There everlasting spring abides. 
 And never-withering flowers ; 
 
 Death, like a narrow sea, divides 
 This heavenly land from ours. 
 
 Sweet fields, beyond the swelling flood, 
 Stand dressed in living green ; 
 
 So to the Jews old Canaan stood. 
 While Jordan rolled between. 
 
 But timorous mortals start and shrink. 
 
 To cross this narrow sea ; 
 And linger shivering on the brink. 
 
 And fear to launch away. 
 
 Oh ! could we make our doubts remove. 
 Those gloomy doubts that rise; 
 
 And see the Canaan that we love, 
 With unbeclouded eyes,—
 
 WATTS. 229 
 
 Could we but climb where Moses stood, 
 
 And view the landscape o'er, 
 Not Jordan's stream, nor death's cold flood, 
 
 Should fright us from the shore.
 
 c. 'mtshv. 
 
 CLVII. 
 
 God of my life, how good, how wise, 
 Thy judgments on my soul have been, 
 
 They were but mercies in disgxiise. 
 The painful remedies of sin : 
 
 How different now thy ways appear. 
 
 Most merciful when most severe ! 
 
 Since first the maze of life I trod. 
 Hast thou not hedged about my way. 
 
 My worldly vain designs withstood. 
 And robbed my passions of their prey, 
 
 Withheld the fuel from the fire, 
 
 And crossed ray every fond desire i
 
 C. WESLEY. 
 
 How oft didst thou my soul withhold, 
 And baffle my pursuit of fame, 
 
 And mortify my lust of gold. 
 And blast me in my surest aim j 
 
 Withdraw my animal delight, 
 
 And starve my grovelling appetite ! 
 
 Thou wovildstnot let thy captive go, 
 Or leave me to my carnal will ; 
 
 Thy love forbad my rest below. 
 Thy patient love pursued me still. 
 
 And forced me from my sin to part, 
 
 And tore the idol from my heart. 
 
 But can I now the loss lament. 
 Or murmur at thy friendly blow ? 
 
 Thy friendly blow my heart hath rent 
 From every seeming good below : 
 
 Thrice happy loss I which makes me see 
 
 My happiness alone in thee.
 
 C. WESLEY. 
 
 CLVIII. 
 
 Help, Lord, to whom for help I fly. 
 And still my tempted soul stand by. 
 
 Throughout the evil day ! 
 The sacred watchfulness impart. 
 And keep the issues of my heart. 
 
 And stir me up to pray. 
 
 My soul with thy whole armour arm ; 
 In each approach of sin alarm, 
 
 And show the danger near ! 
 Surround, sustain, and strengthen me. 
 And fill with godly jealousy. 
 
 And sanctifying fear. 
 
 Whene'er my careless hands hang down, 
 O let me see thy gathering frown. 
 
 And feel thy warning eye : 
 And starting, cry, from ruin's brink. 
 Save, Jesus, or I jield, I sink ! 
 
 O save me, or I die ! 
 
 If from thy fold I rashly stray. 
 By sin's allurements drawn away. 
 
 The keen conviction dart : 
 Recall me by that pitj-ing look. 
 That kind, upbraiding glance, which broke 
 
 Unfaithful Peter's heart.
 
 C. WESLEY. 
 
 CLIX. 
 
 Jesus, refuge of my soul. 
 Let me to thy bosom fly. 
 While the raging billows roll. 
 While the tempest stiU is high ; 
 Hide me, O my Saviour, hide, 
 TiU the storm of life is past. 
 Safe into the haven guide. 
 Then receive my soul at last. 
 
 Other refuge have I none. 
 Hangs my helpless soul on thee ; 
 Leave, ah, leave me not alone. 
 Still support and comfort me : — 
 AU my trust on thee is staid. 
 All my help from thee I bring 
 Cover my defenceless head. 
 With the shadow of thy wing. 
 
 Plenteous grace vpith thee is found, 
 Grace to pardon all my sin ; 
 Let the healing streams abound. 
 Make and keep me pure within : — 
 Thou of life the fountain art. 
 Freely let me take of thee ; 
 Spring thou up within my heart. 
 Rise to all eternity.
 
 C, WESLEY. 
 
 CLX, 
 
 Thou hidden love of God, whose height. 
 
 Whose depth unfathomed, no man knows ; 
 
 I see from far thy beauteous light 
 
 Inly I sigh for thy repose. 
 
 My heart is pained, nor can it be 
 
 At rest, till it finds rest in thee. 
 
 Thy secret voice invites me still, 
 The sweetness of thy yoke to prove. 
 And fain I would, but though my wUl 
 Seem fixed; yet wide my passions rove : 
 Yet hindrances strew all the way : 
 I aim at thee, yet from thee stray. 
 
 'Tis mercy all, that thou hast brought 
 My soul to seek her peace in thee : 
 Yet while I seek, but find thee not, 
 No peace my wandering heart can see. 
 O when shall all my wanderings end, 
 And all my steps to thee-ward tend .' 
 
 Is there a thing beneath the sun 
 That strives with thee my heart to share ? 
 Ah! teai it thence, and reign alone, 
 The Lord of every motion there ; 
 Then shall my heart from earth be free, 
 When it hath found repose in thee.
 
 C. WESLEY, 
 
 CLXI. 
 
 Thou God of glorious majesty, 
 To thee, against myself, to thee', 
 
 A worm of earth, 1 cry : 
 An half-awakened child of man. 
 An heir of endless bliss or pain, 
 
 A sinner born to die ! 
 
 Lo ! on a narrow neck of land, 
 'Twixt two unbounded seas I stand. 
 
 Secure, insensible : 
 A point of time, a moment's space 
 Removes me to that heavenly place. 
 
 Or shuts me up in hell. 
 
 O God, mine inmost soul convert 1 
 And deeply on my thoughtless heart 
 
 Eternal things impress : 
 Give me to feel their solemn weight. 
 And tremble on the brink of fate, 
 
 And. wake to righteousness. 
 
 Before me place, in dread array, 
 The pomp of that tremendous day. 
 
 When thou in clouds shalt come, 
 To judge the nations at thy bar ; 
 And tell me, Lord, shall I be there 
 
 To meet a joyful doom ?
 
 236 C. WESLEY. 
 
 Be this my one great business here. 
 With serious industry and fear 
 
 Eternal bliss fins ore : 
 Thine utmost counsel to fulfil, 
 And suffer all thy righteous will. 
 
 And to the end endure. 
 
 Then, Saviour, then my soul receive, 
 Transported from this vale to live 
 
 And reign vdth thee above ! 
 Where faith is sweetly lost in sight. 
 And hope in full supreme delight, 
 
 And everlasting love. 
 
 CLXII. 
 
 Jesus, thy blood and righteousness. 
 My beauty are, my glorious dress : 
 'Midst flaming worlds, in these arrayed. 
 With joy shall I lift up my head. 
 
 When from the dust of death I rise, 
 To take my mansion in the skies. 
 Even then shaU this be aU my plea — 
 " Jesus hath lived, hath died for me.''
 
 C. WESLEY. 237 
 
 Bold shall 1 stand in that great day. 
 For who aught to my charge shall lay t 
 Fully through thee absolved I am 
 From sin and fear, from guilt and shame. 
 
 Thus Abraham, the friend of God, 
 Thus all the armies bought with blood. 
 Saviour of sinners thee proclaim. 
 Sinners, of whom the chief 1 am. 
 
 This spotless robe the same appears 
 When ruined natm-e sinks in years ; 
 No age can change its glorious hue. 
 The robe of Christ is ever new. 
 
 And when the dead shall hear thy voice. 
 Thy banished children shall rejoice ; 
 Their beauty this, their glorious dress, 
 Jesus, the Lord our righteousness ! 
 
 CLXin. 
 
 In age and feebleness extreme. 
 Who shall a helpless worm redeem ? 
 Jesus, my only hope thou art. 
 Strength of my failing flesh and heart ! 
 Oh ! could I catch a smile from thee. 
 And drop into eternity.
 
 C. WESLEY. 
 
 CLXIV. 
 
 Shrinking from the cold hand of death, 
 I soon shall gather up my feet, 
 
 Shall soon resign my mortal breath, 
 And die, my fathers' God to meet. 
 
 Numbered among thy people, I 
 Expect with joy thy face to see : 
 
 Because thou didst for sinners die, 
 Jesus, in death remember me 1 
 
 O that without a lingering groan 
 I may the welcome word receive ; 
 
 My body, with my charge, lay down. 
 And cease at once to work and live 1 
 
 Walk vsrith me through the dreadful shade, 
 And certify that thou art mine ; 
 
 My spirit, calm and undismayed, 
 I shaU into thy hands resig^n. 
 
 No anxious doubt, no guilty gloom, 
 
 Shall damp when Jesu's presence cheers ; 
 
 My light, my life, my God is come, 
 And glory in his face appears !
 
 C. WESLEY. 
 
 CLXV. 
 
 No, I woiald not always live. 
 Always sin, repent, and grieve, 
 Always in my dungeon groan. 
 Always serve a God unknown ; 
 Or if thou appear'st to me. 
 Darkly through a glass I see. 
 Know in part, and deeply mourn 
 Till I to thy arms return. 
 
 Pardoned, still for sin I grieve. 
 Never can myself forgive : 
 Weeping, tho' my heart were pure. 
 Would I to the end endure. 
 Still lament, and daily die. 
 Till my Saviour from the sky 
 Wipe the gracious tears away. 
 Bear me to eternal day.
 
 Cotton. 
 
 CLXVI. 
 
 O, Thou great power ! in whom I move, 
 By whom I hve, to whom I die. 
 
 Behold me through thy beams of love, 
 \Miilst on this couch of tears I lie, 
 
 And cleanse my sordid soul within 
 
 By thy Christ's blood, the bath for sin. 
 
 Ko hallowed oils, no grums I need. 
 No rags of saints, no purging fire ; 
 
 One rosy drop from David's seed, 
 Was worlds of seas to quench thine ire ; 
 
 Oh precious ransom ! which once paid, 
 
 That consummatum est was said ;
 
 WOTTON. 
 
 And said by him, that said no more. 
 But sealed it with his sacred breath : 
 
 Thou then, that has dispunged my score. 
 And, dying, wert the death of death. 
 
 Be to me now, on Thee I call. 
 
 My life, my strength, my joy, my all !
 
 ^uonDmouiS. 
 
 CLXVII. 
 
 Who laughs at sin, laughs at his Maker's frowns ; 
 
 Laughs at the sword of vengeance o'er his head; 
 Laughs at the great Redeemer's tears and wounds, 
 
 Who, but for sin, had never wept or bled. 
 
 Who laughs at sin, laughs at the numerous woes 
 Which have the guilty world so oft befel ; 
 
 Laughs at the whole creation's groans and throes, - 
 At all the spoils of death, and pains of heU. 
 
 Who laughs at sin, laughs at his own disease. 
 Welcomes approaching torments with his smiles ; 
 
 Dares at his soul's expense his fancy please. 
 Affronts his God, himself of bliss beguiles. 
 
 Who laughs at sin, sports at his guilt and shame ; 
 
 Laughs at the errors of his senseless mind : 
 For so absurd a fool, there wants a name, 
 
 Expressive of a folly so refined.
 
 ANONYMOUS. 243 
 
 CLXVIII. 
 
 Sweet is the prayer, whose holy stream 
 
 In earnest pleading flows ; 
 Devotion dwells upon the theme. 
 
 And warm and warmer grows : — 
 
 Faith grasps the blessing she desires, 
 Hope points the upward gaze. 
 
 And love, celestial love inspires 
 The eloquence of praise. 
 
 But sweeter far the still small voice. 
 
 Heard by no human ear ; 
 When God has made the heart rejoice, 
 
 Aud dried the bitter tear ; 
 
 Deep in the Bethel of the heeirt. 
 
 Unearthly feelings throb ; 
 They cannot into language start, 
 
 Their only vent, a sob. 
 
 No accents flow, no words ascend. 
 
 All utterance faileth there ; 
 But sainted spirits comprehend, 
 
 And God accepts, the prayer.
 
 244 ANONYMOUS. 
 
 CLXIX. 
 
 Jesus, before thy face I fall. 
 My Lord, my life, my hope, my all ! 
 For I have no where else to flee. 
 No sanctuary. Lord, but thee. 
 
 In thee I every glory view. 
 
 Of safety, strength, and beauty too ; 
 
 Beloved Saviour, ever be 
 
 A sanctuary, unto me. 
 
 ^Vhatever woes and fears betide. 
 In thy dear bosom let me hide ; 
 And, while I pour my soul to thee. 
 Do thou my sanctuary be. 
 
 Through life and all its changing scenes, 
 And all the grief that intervenes, 
 'Tis this supports my fainting heart, 
 That thou my sanctuary- art. 
 
 Apace the solemn hour draws ni^. 
 When I must bow my head and die ; 
 But Oh! what joy this witness gives, 
 Jesus, my sanctuary, lives.
 
 A*JONYMOUS. 
 
 He from the grave my dust will raise, 
 I in the heavens shall sing his praise ; 
 And when in glory I appear. 
 He'll be my sanctuary there. 
 
 CLXX, 
 
 The world with stones, instead of bread, 
 
 Our hungry souls has often fed; 
 
 It promised health, — in one short hour 
 
 Perished the fair but fragile flower ; 
 
 It promised riches, — in a day 
 
 They made them wings and fled away j 
 
 It promised friends, — all sought their own. 
 
 And left my widowed heart alone. 
 
 Lord ! with the barren service spent, 
 To Thee my suppliant knee I bent ; 
 And found in Thee a Father's grace. 
 His hand, his heart, his faithfulness ; 
 The voice of peace, the smUe of love. 
 The bread which feeds the saints above ; 
 And tasted in this world of woe, 
 A joy its children never know.
 
 246 ANONYMOUS. 
 
 CLXXI. 
 
 When life's refreshing wells are dry, 
 And the faint soul is spent with care. 
 
 To faith's eternal fountain fly, 
 There is a God who heareth prayer. 
 
 When virtue's path is hard and steep. 
 And vice alluring seems and fair, 
 
 WTiat shall thy soul in safety keep, — 
 Is there not Grod who heareth prayer ? 
 
 If man be merciless and cold, 
 jVnd is there too no mercy there 1 
 
 Unchanged, tmchangeable, behold, 
 A God that hears and answers prayer. 
 
 Yet if life's volume closing fast. 
 Tells but of sins recorded there. 
 
 Oh ! who Ccm say that for the past, 
 God will yet hear and answer prayer. 
 
 Yes ! he wiU hear, though steeped in gmlt, 
 If to the Cross thy soul repair ; 
 
 Christ's precious blood for sinners spilt. 
 Propitiates him that heareth prayer.
 
 ANONYMOUS. 24/ 
 
 Though still the silent tear may flow, 
 Chased is the darkness of despair. 
 
 The heart renewed, in faith will go 
 To God who hears and answers prayer. 
 
 Cleansed by his word from carnal stains, 
 'TwUl hope the joys of heaven to share ; 
 
 Where praise shall sweU the endless strain, 
 And crown the christian's granted prayer. 
 
 CLXXII. 
 
 Did Christ o'er sinners weep t 
 And shall our cheeks be dry ? 
 Let floods of penitential grief 
 Burst forth from every eye. 
 
 The Son of God in tears ! 
 Angels with wonder see ! 
 Be thou astonished, O my soul ! 
 He shed those tears for thee. 
 
 He wept that we might weep. 
 Each sin demands a tear ; 
 In heaven alone no sin is found. 
 And there's no weeping there.
 
 ANONYMOUS. 
 
 CLXXIII. 
 
 Thrice comfortable hope, 
 That calms the troubled breast ; 
 My Father's hand prepares the cup, 
 And what he vsills is best. 
 
 His skill infallible. 
 His providential grace, 
 His power and truth, that never fail. 
 Shall order all my ways. 
 
 The fancied powers of chance 
 And fortune, I defy ; 
 My life's minutest circumstance 
 Is subject to his eye : 
 
 He hears the raven's call ; 
 Nor can his children grieve, 
 Nor can a worthless sparrow fall. 
 Without my Father's leave. 
 
 O may I doubt no more. 
 But in his pleasure rest ; 
 Built on his love, his truth and power.. 
 My soul is truly blest :
 
 ANONYMOUS, 249 
 
 T' accomplish his design, 
 All dark events agree ; 
 And everj' attribute divine 
 Is now at work for me. 
 
 CLXXIV. 
 
 God's furnace doth in Sion stand, 
 
 But Sion's God stands by. 
 As the refiner views his gold 
 
 With an observant eye. 
 
 His thoughts are high, his love is wise, 
 
 His wounds a cure intend ; 
 And though he doth not always smile. 
 
 He loves unto the end. 
 
 Thy love is constant to its line. 
 Though clouds oft come between : 
 
 Oh ! could my faith but pierce those clouds 
 It might be always seen. 
 
 But I am weak, and forced to cry, 
 
 Take up my soul to thee ; 
 Then, as thou ever art the same, 
 
 So shall I also be.
 
 ANONYMOUS. 
 
 CLXXV. 
 
 Jerusalem, my happy home. 
 
 Name ever dear to me, 
 When shall my labours have an end, 
 
 In joy, and peace, and thee ? 
 
 ^Tien shall these eyes thy heaven-built walls 
 
 And pearly gates behold 1 
 Thy bulwarks with salvation strong. 
 
 And streets of shining gold .' 
 
 O when, thou city of my God, 
 
 Shall I thy courts ascend. 
 Where congregations ne'er break up. 
 
 And sabbaths have no end ? 
 
 There happier bowers than Eden's, bloom, 
 
 Nor sin, nor sorrow know : 
 Blessed seats ! through rude and stormy scenes, 
 
 I onward press to you. 
 
 ^Vhy should I shrink at pain and woe, 
 
 Or feel at death dismay ? 
 I've Canaan's goodly land in view, 
 
 And realms of endless day.
 
 ANONYMOUS. 
 
 Apostles, martyrs, prophets, there. 
 Around my Saviour stand ; 
 
 And soon my friends in Christ below. 
 Will join the glorious band. 
 
 Jerusalem ! my happy home, 
 My soul still pants for thee ; 
 
 Then shall my labours have an end, 
 When I thy joys shall see. 
 
 CLXXVI. 
 
 And let this feeble body fail. 
 
 And let it faint or die! 
 My soul shall quit the mounif ul vale. 
 
 And soar to worlds on high : 
 Shall join the disembodied saints. 
 
 And find its long-sought rest, 
 That only bliss for which it pants. 
 
 In the Redeemer's breast. 
 
 In hope of that immortal crown, 
 
 I would not now complain. 
 But gladly wander up and down. 
 
 And smile at toil and pain : 
 Still suffering on my threescore years, 
 
 Till my deliverer come, 
 And wipe away his servant's tears. 
 
 And take his exile home.
 
 ANONYMOUS 
 
 CLXXVII. 
 
 O DRAW me, Saviour, after Thee, 
 So shall I run, and never tire; 
 With gracious words still comfort me ; 
 Be Thou my hope, my sole desire ; 
 Free me from every weight : nor fear 
 Nor sin can come, if Thou art here. 
 
 What in thy love possess I not ? 
 
 My star by night, my sun by day. 
 
 My spring of life when parched by drought. 
 
 My wine to cheer, my bread to stay, 
 
 My strength, my shield, my safe abode. 
 
 My robe before the throne of God. 
 
 From all eternity, with love 
 Unchangeable, Thou hast me viewed .: 
 Ere knew this beating heart to move, 
 Thy tender mercies me pursued : 
 Ever with me may they abide. 
 And close me in on every side. 
 
 In suffering be thy love my peace, 
 In weakness be thy love my power : 
 And when the storms of life shall cease, 
 Jesus, in that important hour. 
 In death as life be thou my guide. 
 And save me, who for me hast died.
 
 ANONYMOUS. 253 
 
 CLXXVITI. 
 
 Let reason vainly boast her power, 
 To teach her children how to die ; 
 The sinner in a dying hour. 
 Needs more than reason can supply : 
 A view of Christ, the sinner's friend. 
 Alone can cheer him in the end. 
 
 \NTien nature sinks beneath disease. 
 And every earthly hope is fled. 
 What then can give the sinner ease. 
 And fill with peace his dying bed ? 
 Jesus, thy word his heart can cheer. 
 He's blest e'en then if thou art near. 
 
 The gospel free salvation brings, 
 
 And Jesus is the gospel theme ; 
 
 In death the pardoned sinner sings, 
 
 And triumphs in the Saviour's name. 
 
 " O death, where is thy sting ? " they cry; 
 
 " O grave, where is thy victory ? " 
 
 Ah ! let me die the death of those 
 Whom Jesus washes in his blood ; 
 Who on his faithfulness repose. 
 And know that he indeed is God. 
 Then round his throne we all shall meet, 
 And cast our crowns beneath his feet.
 
 254 ANONYMOUS. 
 
 CLXXIX. 
 
 Behold this niin ! 'twas a skull. 
 Once of ethereal spirit full ; — 
 This narrow ceU was life's retreat ; 
 This space was thought's mysterious seat 
 WTiat beauteous pictixres filled this spot. 
 What dreams of pleasure long forgot ! 
 Nor love, nor joy, nor hope, nor fear, 
 Has left one trace or record here. 
 
 Beneath this mouldering canopy. 
 Once shone the bright and lovely eye ; 
 But start not at the empty cell ; 
 If on the Cross it loved to dwell ; 
 If with no lawless fire it gleamed. 
 But with contrition's tear-drop beamed. 
 That eye shall shine for ever bright, 
 When Sims and stars have lost their light 
 
 Here, in this silent cavern, hung, 
 The ready, swift, and timeful tongue i 
 If of redeeming love it spoke. 
 Confessing Jesus' easy yoke. 
 If with persuasive mildness bold. 
 Condemning sin, of grace it told ; 
 Tliat timeful tongue in realms above, 
 Bhall sing Messiah's reign of love.
 
 ANONYMOUS. 
 
 Say, did these fingers delve the mine, 
 Or with its en\'ied rubies shine ? 
 To hew the rock, or wear the gem, 
 Can nothing now avaU to them : 
 But if the page of truth they sought. 
 Or comfort to the mourner brought. 
 Those hands shall strike the lyre of praise, 
 And high the palm of triumph raise. 
 
 Avails it whether bare or shod. 
 These feet the path of life had trod ; 
 If from the bower of joy they fled. 
 To soothe affliction's humble bed ; 
 If, spuming all the world bestowed. 
 They sought the strait and narrow road. 
 These feet with angel's wings shaU vie, 
 And tread the palace of the sky. 
 
 CLXXX. 
 
 Knell of departed years. 
 
 Thy voice is sweet to me ; 
 It wakes no sad foreboding fears. 
 Calls forth no sympathetic tears. 
 
 Time's restless course to see; 
 From hallowed ground 
 I hear the sound. 
 Diffusing through the air a holy calm around.
 
 256 ANONYMOUS. 
 
 Thou ait the voice of love ; 
 
 To chide each doubt away ; 
 And as thy murmur faintly dies, 
 Visions of past enjoyment rise 
 In long and bright array ; 
 I hail the sign 
 That love divine 
 Will o'er my future path in cloudless mercy shine. 
 
 Thou art the voice of hope ; 
 
 The music of the spheres, 
 A song of blessings yet to come, 
 A herald from my future home. 
 My soul delighted hears : 
 By sin deceived. 
 By nature grieved. 
 Still am I nearer rest than when I first believed. 
 
 Thou art the voice of life : 
 
 A sound which seems to say, 
 O prisoner in this gloomy vale, 
 Thy flesh shall faint, thy heart shall fail ; 
 Yet fairer scenes thy spirit hail 
 That cannot pass away : 
 Here grief and pain 
 Thy steps detain, 
 There, in the image of the Lord, shalt thou with Jesus 
 reign. 
 
 THE END.
 
 INDEX. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 A saint ! Oh, would that I could claim 135 
 
 Ah, when did wisdom covet length of days .... 125 
 
 Ah, whither shall I fly, what path untrod 1 88 
 
 Ah I why should this immortal mind 198 
 
 And is there care in heaven, and is there love . . 195 
 
 And will the judge descend 58 
 
 Around Bethesda's healing wave 6 
 
 As, panting in the sultry heam IS 
 
 Ask the bird that soars on high 71 
 
 At anchor laid, remote from home 213 
 
 Behold the mountain of the Lord 133 
 
 Behold this ruin, 'twas a skull 254 
 
 Beneath our feet and o'er our head 97 
 
 Beset with wiares on every hand 62 
 
 s
 
 258 INDEX. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Blest pair of Syrens, pledges of heaven's j oy . . . . 1 59 
 
 Blinded in youth by Satan's arts 31 
 
 Bound upon the accursed tree 1 54 
 
 Brother, thou art gone before us 156 
 
 Child of man, whose seed below l6 
 
 Come, Holy Spirit, come 88 
 
 Come, my fond fluttering heart 207 
 
 Creator Spirit, by whose aid 63 
 
 Dear as thou wert, and justly dear 55 
 
 Dear is the hallowed mom to me 53 
 
 Did Christ o'er sinners weep 247 
 
 Do not I love thee, O my Lord 6l 
 
 Earth, guard what here we lay in holy trust. ... 99 
 
 Even thus amid thy pride and luxury 143 
 
 Faith, like a simple, unsuspecting child 68 
 
 Far from the world, O Lord, I flee 39 
 
 Father 1 whate'er of earthly bliss 199 
 
 Fierce passions discompose the mind 37 
 
 For thou didst die for me, O Son of God 151 
 
 For thou wert bom of woman ! thou didst come 147 
 
 Forgive, blest shade, the tributary tear 200 
 
 Friend after friend departs 166 
 
 From Greenland's icy mountains 96 
 
 God builds on liquid air, and forms 204 
 
 God is our refuge in distress 202
 
 INDEX. 2ft9 
 
 PAGE 
 
 God moves in a mysterious way 40 
 
 God of my life, how good, how wise 230 
 
 God of my life, to thee I call 49 
 
 God of the thunder, from whose cloudy seat. ... 145 
 
 God's furnace doth in Sion stand 249 
 
 Grace does not steel the faithful heart. 69 
 
 Hail, the day that sees him rise 137 
 
 Happiness, thou lovely name 214 
 
 Hark ! my soul, it is the Lord 43 
 
 He is the freeman, whom the truth makes free. . 30 
 
 He was there alone, when Even 14 
 
 Help, Lord, to whom for help I fly 232 
 
 How are thy servants blest, O Lord 2 
 
 How sweet shall be the incense of my prayer. . 222 
 
 How sad our state by nature is 227 
 
 How sweet the name of Jesus sounds 1/2 
 
 I asked the Lord, that I might grow 174 
 
 I hear thee speak of the better land 102 
 
 Ifhuman kindness meets return 181 
 
 In age and feebleness extreme ■. 237 
 
 In every object here I see 17 1 
 
 In vain our fancy strives to paint 173 
 
 In vain the erring world inquires 196 
 
 Inspirer and hearer of prayer 219 
 
 Jerusalem, my happy home , 250 
 
 Jesus, before thy face I fall 244 
 
 Jesus, by whose grace I live 216
 
 260 INDEX. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Jesus, my all, to heaven is gone 22 
 
 Jesus, refuge of my soul 233 
 
 Jesus, thy blood and righteousness 236 
 
 Jesus, where'er thy people meet 35 
 
 Knell of departed years 254 
 
 Leaves have theirtime to fall 100 
 
 Let reason vainly boast her power 253 
 
 Like to the falling of a star 124 
 
 Long plunged in sorrow, I resign 85 
 
 Lord, £ind what shall this man do ? 118 
 
 Lord, I feel a carnal mind 209 
 
 Lord of the Sabbath, hear our vows 59 
 
 Man is not left untold, untaught 13 
 
 My God, the spring of all my joys 226 
 
 My stock lies dead, and no increase 105 
 
 My times are in thy hand, and thou 12 
 
 No, I would not always live 239 
 
 No longer I foUow a sound 32 
 
 No strengtli of nature can suffice 51 
 
 O draw me. Saviour, after thee 252 
 
 O for a closer walk with God 36 
 
 O Lord, my best desire fulfil 44 
 
 O sweet and sacred is the rest 15 
 
 O that my heart was right with thee 220 
 
 O Thou great power ! in whom I move 240
 
 INDEX. 261 
 
 PAGE 
 
 O Thou that wilt not break the bruised reed. ... 149 
 
 O throw away thy rod 106 
 
 O where shall rest be found 165 
 
 O ye, who, with the silent tear 112 
 
 O Zion, when I think of thee 123 
 
 Oft as the bell, with solemn toll 176 
 
 Oh ! for a glance of heavenly day 90 
 
 Oh, from the world's vile slavery 24 
 
 Oh ! God unseen, but not imknown 163 
 
 Oh ! Saviour of the faithful dead 93 
 
 O Thou by long experience tried 87 
 
 Our God is nigh 9 
 
 Ours is a lovely world, where'er 11 
 
 Pause here, and think, a monitory rhyme 29 
 
 Plead Thou— O plead my cause 223 
 
 Prayer is the soul's sincere desire l6l 
 
 Prayer was appointed to convey 91 
 
 Remark, my soul, the narrow bounds 6o 
 
 Rise, my soul, an d stretch thy wings 139 
 
 Rock of ages, rent for me 217 
 
 Saviour, when in dust to thee » 83 
 
 Seek ye to sit enthroned by me 117 
 
 Servant of God, well done 167 
 
 Shrinking from the cold hand of death 238 
 
 Sing to the Lord, let harp, and lute, and voice. . 140 
 
 So many years I've seen the svin 73 
 
 Supreme High Priest, the pilgrim's light 215
 
 262 INDEX. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Sweet day, so cool, so calm, so bright 104 
 
 Sweet is the prayer, whose holy stream 243 
 
 Sweet the moments, rich in blessing 190 
 
 Sweetest Saviour, if my soul 1 10 
 
 Teach me, my God and King 107 
 
 Thankless for favors from on high 33 
 
 That I am thine, my Lord and God 75 
 
 That man no guard or weapon needs 175 
 
 The atoning work is done 121 
 
 The cheerful supper done, with serious face .... 19 
 
 The Frenchman, first in literary fame 28 
 
 The God of Abraham praise 182 
 
 The God of glory dwells on high 122 
 
 The golden palace of my God 10 
 
 The grave is not a place of rest 67 
 
 The last loud trumpet's wondrous sound 191 
 
 The Lord abounds with tender love 205 
 
 The path of sorrow, and that path alone 26 
 
 The seas are quiet when the winds are o'er .... 221 
 
 This shadow on the dial's face 169 
 
 The silent joy, that sinks so deep II6 
 
 The spacious firmament on high 4 
 
 The world with stones, instead of bread 245 
 
 There is a fountain fill'd with blood 41 
 
 There is a land of pure delight 228 
 
 There is a secret in the ways of God 201 
 
 Thou art gone to the grave 95 
 
 Thou God of glorious Majesty 235 
 
 Thou hidden love of God, whose height ........ 234
 
 INDEX. 263 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Thou thrice denied, yet thrice beloved 1 13 
 
 Thou, who didst for Peter's faith 77 
 
 Thrice comfortable hope 248 
 
 Thy way, O Lord, is in the sea 65 
 
 'Tis not too hard, too high an aim 129 
 
 'Tis sweet to rest in lively hope 212 
 
 To Jesus, the crown of my hope 47 
 
 To Zion's hiU I lift my eyes 206 
 
 Unthinking, idle, wild, and young 1 
 
 Wages of sin is death; the day is come 186 
 
 Wait ! O my soul, thy Maker's wiU 8 
 
 Weak and irresolute is man. 45 
 
 What is this passing scene 126 
 
 What sinners value I resign 225 
 
 What though my frail eyelids refuse 21 8 
 
 What various hindrances we meet 50 
 
 WTien darkness long has veiled my mind 46 
 
 When faith & love, which parted from thee never 158 
 
 WTien gathering clouds around I view 81 
 
 WTien God at first made man ] 09 
 
 When I consider how my light is spent 160 
 
 When Israel, of the Lord beloved 193 
 
 When langour and disease invade 211 
 
 When life's refreshing weUs are dry 246 
 
 Wten marshalled on the nightly plain 127 
 
 When musing sorrow weeps the past 178 
 
 When restless on my bed Ilie 179
 
 264 INDEX. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 When rising from the bed of death 5 
 
 Where high the heavenly temple stands 132 
 
 Who laughs at sin, laughs at hi5 Maker's frovras 242 
 
 Ye angels who stand round the tin-one 56 
 
 Zion I— Jehovah is her strength 120
 
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 date stamped below 
 
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