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 our waiting hearts proclaim
The sweetness of thy saving name.
Here may we prove the power of
prayer,
To strengthen faith, and sweeten care;
To teach our faint desires to rise,
And bring all heaven before our eyes.
Behold, at thy commanding word
We stretch the curtain and the cord1;
Come thou, and fill this wider space,
And bless us with a large increase.
Lord, we are few, but thou art near ;
Nor short thine arm, nor deaf thine ear;
Oh rend the heavens, come quickly down,
And make a thousand hearts thine own.
WELCOME TO THE TABLE.
THIS is the feast of heavenly wine,
And God invites to sup;
The juices of the living vine
Were press'd to fill the Cup.
Oh! bless the Saviour, ye that eat,
With royal dainties fed;
Not heaven affords a costlier treat,
For Jesus is the bread.
The vile, the lost, he calls to them;
Ye trembling souls, appear!
The righteous in their own esteem
Have no acceptance here.
Approach, ye poor, nor dare refuse
The banquet spread for you;
Dear Saviour, this is welcome news,
Then I may venture too.
If guilt and sin afford a plea,
And may obtain a place,
Surely the Lord will welcome me,
And I shall see his face.
JESUS HASTING TO SUFFER.
THE Saviour, what a noble flame
Was kindled in his breast,
When hasting to Jerusalem,
He marched before the rest!
Good will to men, and zeal for God,
His every thought engross;
He longs to be baptized with blood's,
He pants to reach the cross!
With all his suffering full in view,
And woes to us unknown,
Forth to the task his spirit flew ;
'Twas love that urged him on.
Lord, we return thee what we can :
Our hearts shall sound abroad,
Salvation to the dying Man,
And to the rising God!
And while thy bleeding glories here
Engage our wondering eyes,
We learn our lighter cross to bear,
And hasten to the skies.
XXIX. EXHORTATION TO PRAYER. WHAT various hindrances we meet In coming to a mercy seat! Yet who that knows the worth of But wishes to be often there?
Prayer makes the darken'd 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;
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 fail'd
That moment Amalek prevail'd1.
Have you no words? Ah! think again,
Words flow apace when you complain,
And fill your fellow creature's ear
With the sad tale of all 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."
XXX. THE LIGHT AND GLORY OF THE WORD.
THE Spirit breathes upon the word,
And brings the truth to sight;
Precepts and promises afford
A sanctifying light.
A glory gilds the sacred page,
Majestic like the sun;
It gives a light to every age,
It gives, but borrows none.
The hand that gave it still supplies
The gracious light and heat;
His truths upon the nations rise,
They rise, but never set.
Let everlasting thanks be thine,
For such a bright display,
As makes a world of darkness shine
With beams of heavenly day.
My soul rejoices to pursue
The steps of him I love,
Till glory break upon my view
In brighter worlds above.
XXXI. ON THE DEATH OF A MINISTER.
His master taken from his head,
And in desponding accents said,
Ah, what must Israel do?"
But he forgot the Lord who lifts
The beggar to the throne;
Nor knew that all Elijah's gifts
Would soon be made his own.
What! when a Paul has run his course,
Or when Apollos dies,
Is Israel left without resource,
And have we no supplies?
Yes, while the dear Redeemer lives,
We have a boundless store,
And shall be fed with what he gives,
Who lives for evermore.
XXXII. THE SHINING LIGHT.
My former hopes are fled,
My terror now begins;
I feel, alas! that I am dead
In trespasses and sins.
Ah, whither shall I fly?
I hear the thunder roar ;
The Law proclaims Destruction nigh,
And vengeance at the door.
When I review my ways,
I dread impending doom:
But sure a friendly whisper says,
"Flee from the wrath to come."
I see, or think I see,
A glimmering from afar;
A beam of day, that shines for me,
To save me from despair.
Forerunner of the sun",
It marks the pilgrim's way;
I'll gaze upon it while I run,
And watch the rising day.
XXXIII. THE WAITING SOUL18.
BREATHE from the gentle south, O Lord,
And cheer me from the north;
Blow on the treasures of thy word,
And call the spices forth!
I wish, Thou know'st, to be resign'd,
And wait with patient hope;
But hope delayed fatigues the mind,
And drinks the spirits up.
Help me to reach the distant goal;
Confirm my feeble knee;
Pity the sickness of a soul
That faints for love of thee!
Cold as I feel this heart of mine,
Yet, since I feel it so,
It yields some hope of life divine
Within, however low.
I seem forsaken and alone,
I hear the lion roar;
And every door is shut but one,
And that is Mercy's door.
There, till the dear Deliverer come,
I'll wait with humble prayer;
And when he calls his exile home,
The Lord shall find him there.
18 This Hymn, which has not been marked as Cowper's in the Olney Collection, and consequently not included in any edition of his works, is here restored to him on the authority of Mrs. Johnson, the widow of his excellent kinsman.
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