Man should not faint at thy rebuke,
Like Joshua falling on his face,
When the cursed thing that Achan took
Brought Israel into just disgrace.
Perhaps some golden wedge suppressed,
Some secret sin, offends my God;
Perhaps that Babylonish vest,
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,
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;
Who never hast 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 guide my way,
Shall I resist them both?
poor blind creature of a day,
And crushed before the moth!
But ah! my inward spirit cries,
Still bind me to thy sway;
Else the next cloud that veils the skies
Drives all these thoughts away.
XLVI. THE HAPPY CHANGE
How blest thy creature is, O God,
When, with a single eye,
He views the lustre of thy word,
The dayspring from on high!
Through all the storms that veil the skies
And frown on earthly things,
The Sun of Righteousness he eyes
With healing on his wings.
Struck by that light, the human heart,
A barren soil no more,
Sends the sweet smell of grace abroad,
Where serpents lurked before.
The soul, a dreary province once
Of Satan's dark domain,
Feels a new empire formed within,
And owns a heavenly reign.
The glorious orb whose golden beams
The fruitful year control,
Since first, obedient to thy word,
He started from the goal,
Has cheered the nations with the joys
His orient rays impart ;
But, Jesus, 'tis thy light alone
Can shine upon the heart.
FAR from the world, O Lord, I flee,
From strife and tumult 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-all harmonious names in one-
My Saviour! thou art mine!
What thanks I owe thee, and what love
—A boundless, endless store—
Shall echo through the realms above,
When time shall be no more.
XLVIII. THE HIDDEN LIFE
To tell the Saviour all my wants,
How pleasing is the task!
Nor less to praise him when he grants
Beyond what I can ask.
My labouring spirit vainly seeks
To tell but half the joy,
With how much tenderness he speaks,
And helps me to reply.
Nor were it wise, nor should I choose,
Such secrets to declare;
Like precious wines their taste they lose,
Exposed to open air.
But this with boldness I proclaim,
Nor care if thousands hear,
Sweet is the ointment of his name,
Not life is half so dear.
And can you frown, my former friends, Who knew what once I was,
And blame the song that thus commends
The Man who bore the cross?
Trust me, I draw the likeness true,
And not as fancy paints;
Such honour may he give to you,
For such have all his saints.
XLIX. JOY AND PEACE IN BELIEVING
SOMETIMES a light surprises
The Christian while he sings;
It is the Lord who rises
With healing in his wings:
When comforts are declining,
He grants the soul again.
A season of clear shining
To cheer it after rain.
In holy contemplation
We sweetly then pursue
The theme of God's salvation,
And find it ever new:
Set free from present sorrow,
We cheerfully can say,
E'en let the unknown to-morrow
Bring with it what it may !
It can bring with it nothing
But he will bear us through;
Who gives the lilies clothing
Will clothe his people too;
Beneath the spreading heavens
No creature but is fed;
And he who feeds the ravens
Will give his children bread.
Though vine nor fig-tree neither
Their wonted fruit shall bear,
Though all the field should wither,
Nor flocks nor herds be there:
Yet, God the same abiding,
His praise shall tune my voice;
For, while in him confiding,
I cannot but rejoice.
L. TRUE PLEASURES
LORD, my soul with pleasure springs
When Jesus' name I hear;
And when God the Spirit brings
The word of promise near:
Beauties, too, in holiness
Still delighted I perceive;
Nor have words that can express
The joys thy precepts give.
Clothed in sanctity and grace,
How sweet it is to see
Those who love thee as they pass,
Or when they wait on thee!
Pleasant too to sit and tell
What we owe to love divine;
Till our bosoms grateful swell,
And eyes begin to shine.
Those the comforts I possess,
Which God shall still increase,
All his ways are pleasantness,
And all his paths are peace.
Nothing Jesus did or spoke
Henceforth let me ever slight;
For I love his easy yoke,
And find his burden light.
LI. THE CHRISTIAN
HONOUR and happiness unite
To make the Christian's name a praise; How fair the scene, how clear the light, That fills the remnant of his days!
A kingly character he bears,
No change his priestly office knows;
Unfading is the crown he wears,
His joys can never reach a close.
Adorned with glory from on high,
Salvation shines upon his face;
His robe is of the ethereal dye,
His steps are dignity and grace.
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