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 crush'd 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 bless'd 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 lurk'd before27.
The soul, a dreary province once
Of Satan's dark domain,
Feels a new empire form'd 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 cheer'd 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,
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.
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 on 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 cheefully 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 29
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.
28 Matthew, vi. 34.
29 Habakkuk, iii. 17, 18.
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.
Adorn'd with glory from on high,
Salvation shines upon his face
His robe is of the ethereal dye,
His steps are dignity and grace.
Inferior honours he disdains,
Nor stoops to take applause from earth;
The King of kings himself maintains
The expenses of his heavenly birth.
The noblest creature seen below,
Ordain'd to fill a throne above;
God gives him all he can bestow,
His kingdom of eternal love!
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