Though tempest-tost and half a wreck, XXXIX. LOOKING UPWARDS IN A STORM Gon of my life, to thee I call, When the great water-floods prevail Friend of the friendless and the faint, Did ever mourner plead with thee, That were a grief I could not bear, Fair is the lot that's cast for me; Poor though I am, despised, forgot, And he is safe, and must succeed, For whom the Lord vouchsafes to plead. XL. THE VALLEY OF THE SHADOW OF Death My soul is sad, and much dismayed; See, from the ever-burning lake, Their fiery arrows reach the mark, I hate the thought that wrongs the Lord; Come, then, and chase the cruel host, XLI. PEACE AFTER A STORM WHEN darkness long has veiled my mind, Then, my Redeemer, then I find The folly of my doubts and fears. Straight I upbraid my wandering heart, Or harbour one hard thought of thee. Oh! let me then at length be taught Sweet truth, and easy to repeat! Unskilful, weak, and apt to slide. But, O my Lord, one look from thee Thou art as ready to forgive As I am ready to repine; Thou, therefore, all the praise receive; Be shame and self-abhorrence mine. XLII. MOURNING AND LONGING THE Saviour hides his face! Renewed supplies of pardoning grace, The favoured souls who know What glories shine in him Pant for his presence as the roe Pants for the living stream. What trifles tease me now! They swarm like summer flies; They cleave to everything I do, And swim before my eyes. How dull the Sabbath day Without the Sabbath's Lord! How toilsome then to sing and pray, And wait upon the word! Of all the truths I hear Yet let me (as I ought) No pleasure else is worth a thought, Though I am but a worm, The Lord will my desire perform, XLIII. SELF-ACQUAINTANCE DEAR Lord! accept a sinful heart And mourns, with much and frequent smart, There fiery seeds of anger lurk Legality holds out a bribe To purchase life from thee; While unbelief withstands thy grace, How eager are my thoughts to roam Oh, cleanse me in a Saviour's blood, XLIV. PRAYER FOR PATIENCE LORD, who hast suffered all for me, Help me with patience to endure. The storm of loud repining hush; I would in humble silence mourn; Why should the unburnt, though burning bush, Be angry as the crackling thorn? Man should not faint at thy rebuke, Perhaps some golden wedge suppressed, Perhaps that Babylonish vest, God; Self-righteousness, provokes the rod. Ah! were I buffeted all day, Mocked, crowned with thorns, and spit upon, I yet should have no right to say My great distress is mine alone. Let me not angrily declare No pain was ever sharp like mine, Nor murmur at the cross I bear, But rather weep, remembering thine. XLV. SUBMISSION O LORD, my best desire fulfil, Life, health, and comfort to thy will, Why should I shrink at thy command, No, rather let me freely yield Thy favour, all my journey through, Wisdom and mercy guide my way, A poor blind creature of a day, And crushed before the moth! |