Their dignity secure ; The fever of desire is pass'd, And love has all its genuine taste, Is delicate and pure.
Self-love no grace in sorrow sees, Consults her own peculiar ease ; "Tis all the bliss she knows : But nobler aims true Love employ; In self-denial is her joy,
In suffering her repose.
Sorrow and love go side by side; Nor height nor depth can e'er divide Their heaven-appointed bands; Those dear associates still are one, Nor till the race of life is run, Disjoin their wedded hands. Jesus, avenger of our fall, Thou faithful lover, above all
The Cross has ever borne ! O tell me,--life is in thy voice,- How much afflictions were thy choice, And sloth and ease thy scorn!
Thy choice and mine shall be the same, Inspirer of that holy flame
Which must for ever blaze!
To take the Cross and follow thee, Where love and duty lead, shall be My portion and my praise.
JOY IN MARTYRDOM.
SWEET tenants of this grove, Who sing, without design,
A song of artless love,
In unison with mine: These echoing shades return Full many a note of ours, That wise ones cannot learn,
With all their boasted powers.
O Thou! whose sacred charms These hearts so seldom love, Although thy beauty warms And blesses all above; How slow are human things To choose their happiest lot! All-glorious King of kings, Say why we love thee not?
This heart, that cannot rest, Shall thine for ever prove; Though bleeding and distress'd, Yet joyful in thy love: 'Tis happy, though it breaks Beneath thy chastening hand; And speechless,-yet it speaks What thou canst understand.
STILL, still, without ceasing, I feel it increasing,
This fervour of holy desire; And often exclaim,
Let me die in the flame Of a love that can never expire!
Had I words to explain
What she must sustain
Who dies to the world and its ways;
How joy and affright,
Distress and delight,
Alternately chequer her days.
Thou, sweetly severe !
I would make thee appear, In all thou art pleased to award, Not more in the sweet
Than the bitter I meet,
My tender and merciful Lord.
This Faith, in the dark Pursuing its mark
Through many sharp trials of Love, Is the sorrowful waste
That is to be pass'd
In the way to the Canaan above.
THE NECESSITY OF SELF-ABASEMENT.
SOURCE of love, my brighter sun, Thou alone my comfort art; See, my race is almost run;
Hast thou left this trembling heart?
In my youth thy charming eyes Drew me from the ways of men; Then I drank unmingled joys;
Frown of thine saw never then.
Spouse of Christ was then my name; And devoted all to thee, Strangely jealous, I became Jealous of this Self in me.
Thee to love, and none beside, Was my darling, sole employ; While alternately I died,
Now of grief, and now of joy. Through the dark and silent night On thy radiant smiles I dwelt; And to see the dawning light Was the keenest pain I felt. Thou my gracious teacher wert; And thine eye, so close applied, While it watch'd thy pupil's heart, Seem'd to look at none beside.
Conscious of no evil drift,
This, I cried, is Love indeed! 'Tis the Giver, not the Gift
Whence the joys I feel proceed.
But soon humbled, and laid low, Stript of all thou hast conferr'd, Nothing left but sin and woe, I perceived how I had err'd.
Oh the vain conceit of man,
Dreaming of a good his own, Arrogating all he can,
Though the Lord is good alone!
He the graces thou hast wrought Makes subservient to his pride ; Ignorant, that one such thought Passes all his sin beside.
Such his folly,-proved, at last, By the loss of that repose Self-complacence cannot taste, Only Love Divine bestows.
'Tis by this reproof severe, And by this reproof alone, His defects at last appear,
Man is to himself made known.
Learn, all Earth! that feeble man, Sprung from this terrestrial clod, Nothing is, and nothing can;
Life and power are all in God.
LOVE INCREASED BY SUFFERING.
"I LOVE the Lord," is still the strain This heart delights to sing; But I reply, your thoughts are vain, Perhaps 'tis no such thing.
Before the power of Love Divine
Creation fades away;
Till only God is seen to shine
In all that we survey.
In gulfs of aweful night we find The God of our desires;
'Tis there he stamps the yielding mind, And doubles all its fires.
Flames of encircling love invest, And pierce it sweetly through; 'Tis fill'd with sacred joy, yet press'd With sacred sorrow too.
Ah Love! my heart is in the right— Amidst a thousand woes,
To thee, it's ever new delight, And all its peace it owes.
Fresh causes of distress occur Where'er I look or move; The comforts I to all prefer Are solitude and love.
Nor exile I, nor prison fear; Love makes my courage great; I find a Saviour every where, His grace in every state.
Nor castle walls, nor dungeons deep, Exclude his quickening beams; There I can sit, and sing, and weep, And dwell on heavenly themes.
There sorrow, for his sake, is found A joy beyond compare; There no presumptuous thoughts abound, No pride can enter there.
A Saviour doubles all my joys,
And sweetens all my pains,
His strength in my defence employs,
Consoles me and sustains.
I fear no ill, resent no wrong,
Nor feel a passion move,
When malice whets her slanderous tongue;
Such patience is in love.
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