1.1. EUPOLIS' Hymn to the Creator.
AUTHOR of Being, Source of Light,
With unfading Beauties bright,
Fulneſs, Goodneſs, rolling round
Thy own fair Orb without a Bound:
Whether Thee thy Supplicants call
Truth, or Good, or One, or All,
Ei or Iao; Thee we hail
Eſſence that can never fail,
Grecian or Barbaric Name,
Thy ſtedfaſt Being ſtill the ſame.
Thee, when Morning greets the Skies
With roſy Cheeks and humid Eyes;
Thee, when ſweet-declining Day
Sinks in purple Waves away;
Thee will I ſing, O Parent Jove
And teach the World to praiſe and love.
Yonder azure Vault on high,
Yonder blue, low, liquid Sky,
Earth on its firm Baſis plac'd,
And with circling Waves embrac'd,
All, Creating Pow'r confeſs,
All their mighty Maker bleſs.
Thou ſhak'ſt all Nature with thy Nod,
Sea, Earth and Air confeſs the God:
Yet does thy pow'rful Hand ſuſtain
Both Earth and Heaven, both Firm and Main.
Scarce can our daring Thought ariſe
To thy Pavilion in the Skies;
Nor can Plato's ſelf declare
The Bliſs, the Joy, the Rapture there.
Barren above Thou doſt not reign,
But circled with a glorious Train,
The Sons of God, the Sons of Light,
Ever joying in thy Sight:
(For Thee their ſilver Harps are ſtrung,)
Ever beauteous, ever young,
Angelic Forms their Voices raiſe,
And thro' Heav'n's Arch reſound thy Praiſe.
The Feather'd Souls that ſwim the Air,
And bathe in liquid Ether there,
The Lark, Precentor of their Choir
Leading them higher ſtill and higher,
Liſten and learn; th' angelic Notes
Repeating in their warbling Throats:
And ere to ſoft Repoſe they go,
Teach them to their Lords below:
On the green Turf, their moſſy Neſt,
The Ev'ning Anthem ſwells their Breaſt.
Thus like thy Golden Chain from high,
Thy Praiſe unites the Earth and Sky.
Source of Light, Thou bidſt the Sun
On his burning Axles run;
The Stars like Duſt around him fly,
And ſhew the Area of the Sky.
He drives ſo ſwift his Race above,
Mortals can't perceive him move:
So ſmooth his Courſe, oblique or ſtrait,
Olympus ſhakes not with his Weight.
As the Queen of ſolemn Night
Fills at his Vaſe her Orb of Light,
Imparted Luſtre; Thus we ſee,
The ſolar Virtue ſhines by Thee.
Eireſione we'll no more,
Imaginary Pow'r, adore;
Since Oil, and Wool, and chearing Wine,
And Life-ſuſtaining Bread is thine.
Thy Herbage, O Great Pan, ſuſtains
The Flocks that graze our Attic Plains;
The Olive, with freſh Verdure crown'd,
Riſes pregnant from the Ground;
At thy Command it ſhoots and ſprings,
And a thouſand Bleſſings brings.
Minerva, only is thy Mind,
Wiſdom, and Bounty to Mankind.
The fragrant Thyme, the bloomy Roſe,
Herb and Flow'r and Shrub that grows
On Theſſalian Tempe's Plain,
Or where the rich Sabeans reign,
That treat the Taſte or Smell or Sight,
For Food, for Med'cine or Delight;
Planted by thy Parent Care,
Spring and ſmile and flouriſh there.
O ye Nurſes of ſoft Dreams,
Reedy Brooks and winding Streams,
Or murm'ring o'er the Pebbles ſheen,
Or ſliding thro' the Meadows green,
Or where thro' matted Sedge you creep,
Travelling to your Parent Deep:
Sound his Praiſe, by whom you roſe,
That Sea, which neither ebbs nor flows.
O ye immortal Woods and Groves,
Which the enamour'd Student loves;
Beneath whoſe venerable ſhade,
For Thought and friendly Converſe made,
Fam'd Hecadem, old Hero, lies,
Whoſe Shrine is ſhaded from the Skies,
And thro' the Gloom of ſilent Night
Projects from far its trembling Light;
You, whoſe Roots deſcend as low,
As high in Air your Branches grow;
Your leafy Arms to Heav'n extend,
Bend your Heads, in Homage bend:
Cedars and Pines that wave above,
And the Oak belov'd of Jove.
Omen, Monſter, Prodigy,
Or nothing are, or Jove from Thee!
Whether various Nature play,
Or re-invers'd thy Will obey,
And to Rebel Man declare
Famine, Plague or Waſteful War.
Laugh, ye Profane, who dare deſpiſe
The threatning Vengeance of the Skies,
Whilſt the Pious, on his Guard,
Undiſmay'd is ſtill prepar'd:
Life or Death, his Mind's at reſt,
Since what Thou ſend'ſt muſt needs be beſt.
No Evil can from Thee proceed:
'Tis only Suffer'd, not Decreed.
Darkneſs is not from the Sun,
Nor mount the Shades till he is gone:
Then does Night obſcene ariſe
From Erebus, and fill the Skies,
Fantaſtic Forms the Air invade,
Daughters of Nothing and of Shade.
Can we forget thy Guardian Care,
Slow to puniſh, prone to ſpare!
Thou brak'ſt the haughty Perſian's Pride,
That dar'd old Ocean's Pow'r deride;
Their Shipwrecks ſtrew'd th' Eubean Wave,
At Marathon they found a Grave.
O ye bleſt Greeks who there expir'd,
For Greece with pious Ardor fir'd,
What Shrines or Altars ſhall we raiſe
To ſecure your Endleſs Praiſe?
Or need we Monuments ſupply,
To reſcue what can never die!
And yet a Greater Hero far
(Unleſs Great Socrates could err)
Shall riſe to bleſs ſome future Day,
And teach to live, and teach to pray.
Come, Unknown Inſtructor, come!
Our leaping Hearts ſhall make Thee room;
Thou with Jove our Vows ſhalt ſhare,
Of Jove and Thee We are the Care.
O Father King, whoſe heav'nly Face
Shines ſerene on All thy Race,
We thy Magnificence adore,
And thy well-known Aid implore:
Nor vainly for thy Help we call;
Nor can we want: For thou art All!
1.2. SOLITUDE. From the Latin.
SOLITUDE! where ſhall I find
Thee, pleaſing to the thoughtful Mind!
Sweet Delights to Thee belong,
Untaſted by the vulgar Throng.
Weary of Vice and Noiſe I flee,
Sweeteſt Comforter, to Thee.
Here the Mild and Holy Dove
Peace inſpires and Joy and Love.
Thy unmoleſted, ſilent Shade
No tumultuous Sounds invade:
No Stain of Guilt is ſeen in Thee,
To ſoil thy ſpotleſs Purity.
Here the ſmiling Fields around
Softeſt Harmony reſound.
Here with Angel Quires combin'd,
The Lord of his own peaceful Mind
Glides thro' Life, from Buſineſs far,
And noiſy Striſe, and eating Care.
Here retir'd from Pomp and State
(The envy'd Torment of the Great)
Innocent he leads his Days,
Far from giddy Thirſt of Praiſe.
Here his Accounts with ſtudious Care
Preparing for the laſt great Bar,
He weeps the Stains of Guilt away,
And ripens for Eternal Day.
Hoarded Wealth deſire who pleaſe,
Tow'rs and gilded Palaces.
Fraudleſs Silence may I find,
Solitude and Peace of Mind;
To all the buſy World unknown,
Seen and lov'd by God alone.
Ye Rich, ye Learn'd, ye Great, confeſs
This in Life is Happineſs,
To live (unknown to all abroad)
To myſelf only and my GOD.
1.3. The Myſtery of Life.
SO many Years I've ſeen the Sun,
And call'd theſe Eyes and Hands my own,
A thouſand little Acts I've done
And Childhood have and Manhood known:
O what is Life! and this dull Round
To tread, why was a Spirit bound?
So many airy Draughts and Lines,
And warm Excurſions of the Mind,
Have fill'd my Soul with great Deſigns,
While Practice grovel'd far behind:
O what is Thought! and where withdraw
The Glories which my Fancy ſaw?
So many tender Joys and Woes
Have on my quiv'ring Soul had Pow'r;
Plain Life with height'ning Paſſions roſe,
The Boaſt or Burden of their Hour:
O what is All we feel! why fled
Thoſe Pains and Pleaſures o'er my Head?
So many human Souls Divine,
Some at one Interview diſplay'd,
Some oft and freely mixt with mine,
In laſting Bonds my Heart have laid:
O what is Friendſhip! why impreſt
On my weak, wretched, dying Breaſt?
So many wondrous Gleams of Light,
And gentle Ardors from above,
Have made me ſit, like Seraph bright,
Some Moments on a Throne of Love:
O what is Virtue! why had I,
Who am ſo low, a Taſte ſo high?
Ere long, when Sov'reign Wiſdom wills,
My Soul an unknown Path ſhall tread,
And ſtrangely leave, who ſtrangely fills
This Frame, and waft me to the Dead:
O what is Death?—'tis Life's laſt Shore,
Where Vanities are vain no more;
Where all Purſuits their Goal obtain,
And Life is all retouch'd again;
Where in their bright Reſult ſhall riſe
Thoughts, Virtues, Friendſhips, Griefs and Joys.
ASK not, who ended here his Span?
His Name, Reproach and Praiſe, was Man.
Did no great Deeds adorn his Courſe?
No Deed of His, but ſhew'd him worſe:
One Thing was great, which GOD ſupply'd,
He ſuffer'd Human Life—and Dy'd.
What Points of Knowledge did he gain?
That Life was ſacred all—and Vain:
Sacred how high, and vain how low?
He knew not here, but dy'd to know.
1.5. VIRTUE. Altered from Herbert.
SWEET Day, ſo cool, ſo calm, ſo bright,
The Bridal of the Earth and Sky:
The Dew ſhall weep thy Fall to Night,
For Thou with all thy Sweets muſt die!
Sweet Roſe, ſo fragrant and ſo brave,
Dazling the raſh Beholder's Eye:
Thy Root is ever in its Grave,
And Thou with all thy Sweets muſt die!
Sweet Spring, ſo beauteous and ſo gay,
Storehouſe, where Sweets unnumber'd lie:
Not long thy fading Glories ſtay,
But Thou with all thy Sweets muſt die!
Only a Sweet and Virtuous Mind,
When Nature all in Ruins lies,
When Earth and Heav'n a Period find,
Begins a Life that never dies!
1.6. Upon liſt'ning to the Vibrations of a Clock.
INſtructive Sound! I'm now convinc'd by Thee
Time in its Womb may bear Infinity.
How the paſt Moment dies, and throbs no more!
What Worlds of Parts compoſe the rolling Hour!
The leaſt of theſe a ſerious Care demands;
For tho' they're little, yet they're Golden Sands:
By ſome great Deeds diſtinguiſh'd all in Heav'n,
For the ſame End to me by Number giv'n!
Ceaſe, Man, to laviſh Sums thou ne'er haſt told!
Angels, tho' Deathleſs, dare not be ſo bold!
1.7. DOOMSDAY. From Herbert.
"COME to Judgment, come away"!
(Hark, I hear the Angel ſay,
Summoning the Duſt to riſe)
"Haſt, reſume, and lift your Eyes;
"Hear, ye Sons of Adam, hear,
"Man, before thy GOD appear!"
Come to Judgment, come away!
This the Laſt, the Dreadful Day.
Sov'reign Author, Judge of all,
Duſt obeys thy quick'ning Call,
Duſt no other Voice will heed:
Thine the Trump that wakes the Dead.
Come to Judgment, come away!
Lingring Man no longer ſtay;
Thee let Earth at length reſtore,
Pris'ner in her Womb no more;
Burſt the Barriers of the Tomb,
Riſe to meet thy inſtant Doom!
Come to Judgment, come away!
Wide diſperſt howe'er ye ſtray,
Loſt in Fire, or Air, or Main,
Kindred Atoms meet again;
Sepulchred where'er ye reſt,
Mix'd with Fiſh, or Bird, or Beaſt.
Come to Judgment, come away!
Help, O CHRIST, thy Work's Decay:
Man is out of Order hurl'd,
Parcel'd out to all the World;
Lord, thy broken Concert raiſe,
And the Muſick ſhall be Praiſe.
1.8. SPIRITUAL SLUMBER. From the
O Thou, who all things canſt controul,
Chaſe this dead Slumber from my Soul;
With Joy and Fear, with Love and Awe
Give me to keep thy perfect Law.
O may one Beam of thy bleſt Light
Pierce thro', diſpel the Shades of Night:
Touch my cold Breaſt with heav'nly Fire,
With holy, conq'ring Zeal inſpire.
For Zeal I ſigh, for Zeal I pant;
Yet heavy is my Soul and faint:
With Steps unwav'ring, undiſmay'd
Give me in all thy Paths to tread.
With out-ſtretch'd Hands, and ſtreaming Eyes
Oft I begin to graſp the Prize;
I groan, I ſtrive, I watch, I pray:
But ah! how ſoon it dies away!
The deadly Slumber ſoon I feel
Afreſh upon my Spirit ſteal:
Riſe, Lord; ſtir up thy quick'ning Pow'r,
And wake me that I ſleep no more.
Single of Heart O may I be,
Nothing may I deſire but Thee:
Far, far from me the World remove,
And all that holds me from thy Love!
DEAD as I am, and cold my Breaſt,
Untouch'd by Thee, Celeſtial Zeal,
How ſhall I ſing th' unwonted Gueſt?
How paint the Joys I cannot feel?
Aſſiſt me Thou, at whoſe Command
The Heart exults, from Earth ſet free!
'Tis Thine to raiſe the drooping Hand,
Thine to confirm the feeble Knee.
'Tis Zeal muſt end this inward Strife,
Give me to know That Warmth Divine!
Thro' all my Verſe, thro' all my Life
The Active Principle ſhall ſhine.
Where ſhall we find its high Abode?
To Heav'n the Sacred Ray aſpires,
With ardent Love embraces GOD,
Parent and Object of its Fires.
There its peculiar Influence known
In Breaſts Seraphic learns to glow;
Yet darted from th' Eternal Throne,
It ſheds a chearing Light below.
Thro' Earth diffus'd, the Active Flame
Intenſely for GOD's Glory burns,
And always mindful whence it came,
To Heav'n in ev'ry Wiſh returns.
Yet vain the fierce Enthuſiaſt's Aim
With This to ſanctify his Cauſe;
To skreen beneath this Awful Name
The perſecuting Sword he draws.
In vain the mad Fanatick's Dreams
To This myſteriouſly pretend;
On Fancy built, his airy Schemes
Or ſlight the Means, or drop the End.
Where Zeal holds on its even Courſe,
Blind Rage, and Bigotry retires;
Knowledge aſſiſts, not checks its Force,
And Prudence guides, not damps its Fires.
Reſiſtleſs then it wins its Way;
Yet deigns in humble Hearts to dwell:
The humble Hearts confeſs its Sway,
And pleas'd the ſtrange Expanſion feel.
Superior far to mortal Things,
In grateful Extaſy they own,
(Such antedated Heav'n it brings,)
That Zeal and Happineſs are one.
Now vary'd Deaths their Terrors ſpread,
Now threat'ning Thouſands rage—In vain!
Nor Tortures can arreſt its Speed,
Nor Worlds its Energy reſtrain.
That Energy, which quells the Strong,
Which cloaths with Strength the abject Weak,
Looſes the ſtamm'ring Infant's Tongue,
And bids the Sons of Thunder ſpeak.
While Zeal its heav'nly Influence ſheds,
What Light o'er Moſes' Viſage plays!
It wings th'immortal Prophet's Steeds,
And brightens fervent Stephen's Face.
Come then, bright Flame, my Breaſt inſpire;
To me, to me be Thou but giv'n,
Like them I'll mount my Car of Fire,
Or view from Earth an op'ning Heav'n.
Come then, if mighty to redeem,
CHRIST purchas'd thee with Blood Divine:
Come, Holy Zeal! For Thou thro' Him,
JESUS Himſelf thro' Thee is Mine!
1.10. On Reading Monſr. de RENTY's Life.
WE deem the Saints, from mortal Fleſh releas'd,
With brighter Day, and bolder Raptures bleſt:
Senſe now no more precludes the diſtant Thought,
And naked Souls now feel the GOD they ſought,
But thy great Soul, which walk'd with GOD on Earth
Can ſcarce be nearer by that ſecond Birth:
By Change of Place dull Bodies may improve,
But Spirits to their Bliſs advance by Love.
Thy Change inſenſible brought no Surprize,
Inur'd to Innocence and Paradiſe:
For Earth, not Heav'n, thou thro' a Glaſs didſt
The Glaſs was Love; and Love no Evil knew,
But in all Places only Heav'n did ſhew.
Canſt Thou Love more, when from a Body freed,
Which ſo much Life, ſo little had of Need?
So pure, it ſeem'd for This alone deſign'd,
To uſher forth the Virtues of the Mind!
From Nature's Chain, from Earthly Droſs ſet free,
One only Appetite remained in Thee:
That Appetite it mourn'd but once deny'd,
For when it ceas'd from ſerving GOD, it dy'd.
1.11. VANITY. From Herbert.
THE fleet Aſtron'mer travels o'er
The Spheres with his ſagacious Mind,
Their Stations views from Door to Door,
As if to purchaſe he deſign'd:
Thro' all their circling Orbs he goes,
And all their mazy Wandrings knows.
The nimble Diver with his Side
Cuts thro' the working Waves his Way,
To fetch the Pearl which GOD did hide
On purpoſe from the View of Day,
That He might ſave his Life, and hers
Whoſe Pride the coſtly Danger wears.
The ſubtle Chymiſt can diveſt
Gay Nature of her various Hue;
Stript of her thouſand Forms, confeſt
She ſtands, and naked to his View:
At Diſtance other Suitors ſtand;
Her inmoſt Stores wait his Command.
What has not Man ſought out and found,
But GOD? Who yet his glorious Law
Plants in us; mellowing the Ground
With Show'rs and Froſt, with Love and Awe.
Poor, buſy, fooliſh Man! For Death
In Fire, and Air, and Sea, and Land,
Thro' Heav'n above, and Earth beneath
Thou ſeek'ſt; but miſſeſt Life at hand.
1.12. FAREWELL to the WORLD.
From the French.
WORLD adieu, Thou real Cheat!
Oft have thy deceitful Charms
Fill'd my Heart with fond Conceit,
Fooliſh Hopes and falſe Alarms:
Now I ſee as clear as Day,
How thy Follies paſs away.
Vain thy entertaining Sights,
Falſe thy Promiſes renew'd,
All the Pomp of thy Delights
Does but flatter and delude:
Thee I quit for Heav'n above,
Object of the nobleſt Love.
Farewell Honour's empty Pride!
Thy own nice, uncertain Guſt,
If the leaſt Miſchance betide,
Lays thee lower than the Duſt:
Worldly Honours end in Gall,
Riſe to Day, to Morrow fall.
Fooliſh Vanity farewell,
More inconſtant than the Wave!
Where thy ſoothing Fancies dwell,
Pureſt Tempers they deprave:
He, to whom I fly, from Thee
JESUS CHRIST ſhall ſet me free.
Never ſhall my wand'ring Mind
Follow after fleeting Toys,
Since in GOD alone I find
Solid and ſubſtantial Joys:
Joys that never overpaſt,
Thro' Eternity ſhall laſt.
LORD, how happy is a Heart
After Thee while it aſpires!
True and faithful as Thou art,
Thou ſhalt anſwer its Deſires:
It ſhall ſee the glorious Scene
Of thy Everlaſting Reign.
1.13. GIDDINESS. From Herbert.
O What a Thing is Man! from Reſt
How widely diſtant, and from Pow'r!
Some twenty ſev'ral Men at leaſt
He ſeems, he is, each ſev'ral Hour.
Heav'n his ſole Treaſure now he loves;
But let a tempting Thought creep in,
His Coward Soul he ſoon reproves,
That ſtarts t' admit a pleaſing Sin.
Eager he ruſhes now to War,
Inglorious now diſſolves in Eaſe:
Wealth now engroſſes all his Care;
And laviſh now he ſcorns Increaſe.
A ſtately Dome he raiſes now:
But ſoon the Dome his Change ſhall feel;
See, level lies its lofty Brow,
Cruſh'd by the Whirlwind of his Will.
O what were Man, if his Attire
Still vary'd with his varying Mind!
If we his ev'ry new Deſire
Stamp'd on his alt'ring Form could find.
Could each one ſee his Neighbour's Heart,
Brethren and Social made in vain,
All would disband and range apart,
And Man deteſt the Monſter Man.
If GOD refuſe our Heart to turn,
Vain will his firſt Creation be:
O make us daily! Or we ſpurn
Our own Salvation, Lord, and Thee!
1.14. To a FRIEND in LOVE.
ACCEPT, dear Youth, a ſympathizing Lay,
The only Tribute pitying Love can pay.
Tho' vain the Hope thine Anguiſh to aſſwage,
Charm down Deſire, or calm fierce Paſſion's Rage;
Yet ſtill permit me in thy Griefs to grieve,
Relief to offer, if I can't relieve;
Near thy ſick Couch with fond Concern t' attend,
And reach out Cordials to my Dying Friend.
Poor hapleſs Youth! what Words can eaſe thy
When Reaſon pleads, and Wiſdom cries in vain!
Can feeble Verſe impetuous Nature guide,
Or ſtem the Force of blind Affection's Tide?
If Reaſon checks, or Duty diſallows,
"Reaſon, you cry, and Duty are my Foes:
"Religion's Dictates ineffectual prove,
"And GOD Himſelf's Impertinence in Love.
What art Thou, Love? Thou ſtrange myſterious
Whom none aright can know, tho' all can ſeel.
From careleſs Sloth thy dull Exiſtence flows,
And feeds the Fountain whence itſelf aroſe:
Silent its Waves with baleful Influence roll,
Damp the young Mind, and ſink th' aſpiring Soul
Poiſon its Virtues, all its Pow'rs reſtrain,
And blaſt the Promiſe of the future Man.
To Thee, curſt Fiend, the captive Wretch conſign'd,
"His Paſſions rampant, and his Reaſon blind,
Reaſon, Heav'n's great Vicegerent, dares diſown,
And place a Fooliſh Idol in its Throne:
Or wildly raiſe his frantic Raptures higher,
And pour out Blaſphemies at thy Deſire.
At thy Deſire he bids a Creature ſhine,
He decks a Worm with Attributes Divine;
Hers to Angelic Beauties dares prefer,
"Angels are painted fair to look like Her!
Before her Shrine the lowly Suppliant laid,
Adores the Idol that Himſelf has made:
From her Almighty Breath his Doom receives,
Dies by her Frown, as by her Smile he lives.
Supreme ſhe reigns in all-ſufficient State,
To her he bows, from her expects his Fate,
"Heav'n in her Love, Damnation in her Hate.
He rears unhallow'd Altars to her Name,
Where Luſt lights up a black, polluted Flame;
Where Sighs impure, as impious Incenſe riſe,
Himſelf the Prieſt, his Heart the Sacrifice:
And thus GOD's Sacred Word his Horrid Pray'r
"Center of All Perfection, Source of Bliſs,
"In whom thy Creaure lives and moves and is,
"Save, or I periſh! hear my humble Pray'r,
"Spare thy poor Servant—O in Mercy ſpare.
"Thou art my Joy, on Thee depends my Truſt,
"Hide not thy Face, nor frown me into Duſt.
"Send forth thy Breath, and rais'd again I ſee
"My Joy, my Life, my Final Bliſs in Thee.
"For Thee I Am: for Thee I All reſign,
"Be Thou my One thing Needful, Ever Mine!
But O forbear, preſumptuous Muſe forbear,
Nor wound with Rant profane the Chriſtian Ear:
A juſt Abhorrence in my Friend I ſee,
He ſtarts from Love, when Love's Idolatry.
"Give me thy Heart," if the Creator cries,
"'Tis giv'n the Creature," What bold Wretch
Not ſo my Friend—he wakes, he breaths again,
And "Reaſon takes once more the ſlacken'd Rein."
In vain rebellious Nature claims a Part,
When Heav'n requires, he gives up All his Heart:
("For Love Divine no Partnerſhip allows,
"And Heav'n averſe rejects divided Vows)
Fixt tho' ſhe be, he rends the Idol thence,
Nor lets her Pow'r exceed Omnipotence.
Commands his GOD, "Cut off th' offending
He hears, Obedient to his GOD's Command:
"Pluck out thine Eye," let the Redeemer ſay;
He tears, and caſts the bleeding Orb away.
Victorious now to Nobler Joys aſpires,
His Boſom, touch'd with more than Earthly Fires:
He leaves rough Paſſion for calm Virtue's Road,
Gives Earth for Heav'n, and quits a Worm for
1 TIM. v. 6. She that liveth in Pleaſure, is Dead while
HOW hapleſs is th' applauded Virgin's Lot,
Her GOD forgetting, by her GOD forgot!
Stranger to Truth, unknowing to obey,
In Error nurſt, and diſciplin'd to ſtray;
Swoln with Self-will, and principled with Pride,
Senſe all her Good, and Paſſion all her Guide:
Pleaſure its Tide, and Flatt'ry lends its Breath,
And ſmoothly waft her to Eternal Death!
A Goddeſs Here, ſhe ſees her Vot'ries meet,
Crowd to her Shrine, and tremble at her Feet;
She hears their Vows, Believes their Life and Death
Hangs on the Wrath and Mercy of her Breath;
Supreme in fancy'd State ſhe reigns her Hour,
And glories in her Plenitude of Pow'r:
Herſelf the Only Object worth her Care,
Since all the kneeling World was made for Her.
For Her, Creation all its Stores diſplays,
The Silkworms labour, and the Diamonds blaze:
Air, Earth, and Sea conſpire to tempt her Taſte,
And ranſack'd Nature furniſhes the Feaſt.
Life's gaudieſt Pride attracts her willing Eyes,
And Balls, and Theaters, and Courts ariſe:
Songſters pant her Ear to pleaſe,
Bid the firſt Cries of infant Reaſon ceaſe,
Save her from Thought, and lull her Soul to Peace.
Deep ſunk in Senſe th' impriſon'd Soul remains,
Nor knows its Fall from GOD, nor feels its
Unconſcious ſtill, ſleeps on in Error's Night,
Nor ſtrives to riſe, nor ſtruggles into Light:
Heav'n-born in vain, degen'rate cleaves to Earth,
(No Pangs experienc'd of the Second Birth)
She only Faln, yet Unawaken'd found,
While All th' enthrall'd Creation groans around.
JOHN xv. 18, 19.
WHERE has my ſlumb'ring Spirit been,
So late emerging into Light?
So imperceptible, within,
The Weight of this Egyptian Night!
Where have they hid the WORLD ſo long,
So late preſented to my View?
Wretch! tho' myſelf increas'd the Throng,
Myſelf a Part I never knew.
Secure beneath its Shade I ſat,
To me were all its Favours ſhown:
I could not taſte its Scorn or Hate;
Alas, it ever lov'd its Own!
JESUS, if half diſcerning now,
From Thee I gain this glimm'ring Light,
Retouch my Eyes; anoint them Thou,
And grant me to receive my Sight.
O may I of thy Grace obtain
The World with other Eyes to ſee:
Its Judgments falſe, its Pleaſures vain,
Its Friendſhip Enmity with Thee.
Deluſive World, thy Hour is paſt,
The Folly of thy Wiſdom ſhew!
It cannot now retard my Haſte,
I leave thee for the Holy Few.
No! Thou blind Leader of the Blind,
I bow my Neck to Thee no more;
I caſt thy Glories all behind,
And ſlight thy Smiles, and dare thy Pow'r.
Excluded from my Saviour's Pray'r,
Stain'd, yet not hallow'd, with his Blood,
Shalt Thou my fond Affection ſhare,
Shalt Thou divide my Heart with GOD?
No! Tho' it rouze thy utmoſt Rage,
Eternal Enmity I vow:
Tho' Hell with thine its Pow'rs engage,
Prepar'd I meet your Onſet now.
Load me with Scorn, Reproach and Shame;
My patient Maſter's Portion give;
As evil ſtill caſt out my Name,
Nor ſuffer ſuch a Wretch to live.
Set to thy Seal that I am His;
Vile as my Lord I long to be:
My Hope, my Crown, my Glory this,
Dying to conquer Sin and Thee!
1.17. HYMN to CONTEMPT.
WElcome, Contempt! Stern, faithful Guide,
Unpleaſing, healthful Food!
Hail pride-ſprung Antidote of Pride,
Hail Evil turn'd to Good!
Thee when with awful Pomp array'd
Ill-judging Mortals ſee,
Perverſe they fly with coward Speed,
To Guilt they fly from Thee.
Yet if One haply longing ſtands
To chooſe a Nobler Part,
Ardent from Sin's enſnaring Bands
To vindicate his Heart:
Preſent to end the doubtful Strife,
Thy Aid he ſoon ſhall feel;
Confirm'd by Thee, tho' warm in Life,
Bid the vain World farewell.
Thro' Thee he treads the ſhining Way
That Saints and Martyrs trod,
Shakes off the Frailty of his Clay,
And wings his Soul for GOD.
His Portion Thou, he burns no more,
With fond Deſire to pleaſe;
The fierce, diſtracting Conflict's o'er
And all his Thoughts are Peace.
Sent by Almighty Pity down,
To Thee alone 'tis giv'n
With glorious Infamy to crown
The Favourites of Heav'n.
With Thee Heav'n's Fav'rite Son, when made
Incarnate, deign'd t' abide;
To Thee he meekly bow'd his Head,
He bow'd his Head, and dy'd.
And ſhall I ſtill the Cup decline,
His Suff'rings diſeſteem,
Diſdain to make this Portion mine
When ſanctify'd by Him?
Or firm thro' Him and undiſmay'd,
Thy ſharpeſt Darts abide?
Sharp as the Thorns that tore his Head,
The Spear that pierc'd his Side.
Yes—ſince with Thee my Lot is caſt,
I bleſs my GOD's Decree,
Embrace with Joy what He embrac'd,
And live and die with Thee!
So when before th' Angelic Hoſt
To each his Lot is giv'n,
Thy Name ſhall be in Glory loſt,
And Mine be found in Heav'n!
1.18. The AGONY. From Herbert.
VAIN Man has meaſur'd Land and Sea,
Fathom'd the Depths of States and Kings,
O'er Earth and Heav'n explor'd his Way:
Yet there are Two vaſt ſpacious things,
To meaſure which doth more behove,
Yet few that ſound them! Sin and Love.
Who would know Sin, let him repair
To Calvary: There ſhall he ſee
A Man ſo pain'd, that all his Hair,
His Skin, his Garments bloody be!
Sin is that Rack, which forces Pain
To hunt its Food thro' ev'ry Vein.
Wouldſt thou know Love? behold the GOD,
The Man, who for thy Ranſom dy'd:
Go taſte the ſacred Fount that flow'd
Faſt-ſtreaming from his wounded Side!
Love, is that Liquor moſt divine,
GOD feels as Blood, but I as Wine.
1.19. The THANKSGIVING. From the ſame.
O King of Grief, (how ſtrange and true
The Name, to JESUS only due!)
How, Saviour, ſhall I Grieve for Thee?
Who in All Griefs preventeſt me.
Then let me vie with Thee in Love,
And try who there ſhall Conq'ror prove.
Giv'ſt Thou me Wealth? I will reſtore
All back unto Thee by the Poor.
Giv'ſt Thou me Honour? All ſhall ſee
The Honour doth belong to Thee:
A Boſom-Friend? If falſe he prove
To Thee, I will tear thence his Love.
Thee ſhall my Muſick find: each String
Shall have his Attribute to Sing;
And ev'ry Note accord in Thee,
To prove one GOD, one Harmony.
Giv'ſt Thou me Knowledge? It ſhall ſtill
Search out thy Ways, thy Works, they Will:
Yea I will ſearch thy Book, nor move
Till I have found therein thy Love.
Thy Love I will turn back on Thee:
O my dear Saviour, Victory!
Then for thy Paſſion, I for That
Will do—alas, I know not what!
1.21. MATTINS. From the ſame.
I Cannot open, Lord, mine Eyes,
But Thou art ready ſtill to claim
My Morning Soul in Sacrifice:
Thine then the foll'wing Day I am.
My GOD, what is a Human Heart?
Silver or Gold, or precious Stone;
Or Star, or Rainbow; or a Part
Of All, or all thy World in One?
My GOD what is a Human Heart?
Thou ſoft'neſt it with heav'nly Dew,
Thou pour'ſt upon it all thy Art,
As all thy Buſineſs were to woo.
To ſerve his GOD, is Man's Eſtate;
This glorious Task asks all his Care:
He did not Earth and Heav'n create,
But may know Him by whom they are.
Teach me at laſt thy Love to know—
That This new Light which now I ſee
May both the Work and Workman ſhow:
A Sun-beam lifts me then to Thee!
1.23. The ELIXIR. From the ſame.
TEACH me, my GOD and King,
In All things Thee to ſee;
And what I do in any Thing,
To do it as for Thee!
To ſcorn the Senſes' Sway,
While ſtill to Thee I tend:
In all I do, be Thou the Way,
In all be Thou the End.
A Man that looks on Glaſs,
On That may fix his Eye;
Or unoppos'd may thro' it paſs,
And Heav'n behind deſcry.
All may of Thee partake:
Nothing ſo ſmall can be,
But draws, when acted for thy Sake,
Greatneſs and Worth from Thee.
If done t' obey thy Laws,
Ev'n Servile Labours ſhine;
Hallow'd is Toil, if this the Cauſe,
The meaneſt Work Divine.
Th' Elixir This, the Stone
That All converts to Gold:
For that which GOD for His doth own,
Cannot for leſs be told.
ENſlav'd to Senſe, to Pleaſure prone,
Fond of Created Good;
Father, our Helpleſneſs we own,
And trembling taſte our Food.
Trembling we taſte: for ah! no more
To Thee the Creatures lead;
Chang'd they exert a Fatal Pow'r,
And poiſon while they feed.
Curſt for the Sake of wretched Man,
They now engroſs him whole,
With pleaſing Force on Earth detain,
And ſenſualize his Soul.
Grov'ling on Earth we ſtill muſt lie
Till CHRIST the Curſe repeal;
Till CHRIST deſcending from on high
Infected Nature heal.
Come then, our Heav'nly Adam, come!
Thy healing Influence give;
Hallow our Food, reverſe our Doom,
And bid us eat and live.
The Bondage of Corruption break!
For this our Spirits groan;
Thy only Will we fain would ſeek;
O ſave us from our own.
Turn the full Stream of Nature's Tide:
Let all our Actions tend
To Thee their Source; thy Love the Guide,
Thy Glory be the End.
Earth then a Scale to Heav'n ſhall be,
Senſe ſhall point out the Road;
The Creatures then ſhall lead to Thee,
And all we taſte be GOD!
1.26. GRACE after MEAT.
BEing of Beings, GOD of Love,
To Thee our Hearts we raiſe;
Thy all-ſuſtaining Pow'r we prove,
And gladly ſing thy Praiſe.
Thine, wholly thine we pant to be,
Our Sacrifice receive;
Made, and preſerv'd, and ſav'd by Thee,
To Thee Ourſelves we give.
Heav'nward our ev'ry Wiſh aſpires:
For all thy Mercy's Store
The ſole Return thy Love requires,
Is that we ask for more.
For more we ask, we open then
Our Hearts t' embrace thy Will:
Turn and beget us, Lord, again,
With all thy Fulneſs fill!
Come, Holy Ghoſt, the Saviour's Love
Shed in our Hearts abroad;
So ſhall we ever live and move,
And Be, with CHRIST, in GOD.
1.27. On CLEMENS ALEXANDRINUS'S Deſcription
of a Perfect Chriſtian.
HERE from afar the finiſh'd Height
Of Holineſs is ſeen:
But O what heavy Tracts of Toil,
What Deſerts lie between?
Man for the Simple Life Divine
What will it coſt to break;
Ere Pleaſure ſoft and wily Pride
No more within him ſpeak?
What lingring Anguiſh muſt corrode
The Root of Nature's Joy?
What ſecret Shame and dire Defeats
The Pride of Heart deſtroy?
Learn Thou the whole of Mortal State
In Stilneſs to ſuſtain;
Nor ſooth with falſe Delights of Earth
Whom GOD has doom'd to Pain.
Thy Mind now Multitude of Thoughts,
Now Stupor ſhall diſtreſs;
The Venom of each latent Vice
Wild Images impreſs.
Yet darkly fafe with GOD thy Soul
His Arm ſtill onward bears,
Till thro' each Tempeſt on her Face
A Peace beneath appears.
'Tis in that Peace we ſee and act
By Inſtincts from above;
With finer Taſte of Wiſdom fraught,
And myſtic Pow'rs of Love.
Yet ask not in mere Eaſe and Pomp
Of Ghoſtly Gifts to ſhine:
Till Death the Lowneſſes of Man,
And decent Griefs are Thine.
1.28. AFFLICTION. From Herbert.
WHEN firſt Thou didſt entice my Heart
To Thee, I thought the Service brave;
So many Joys I for my Part
Set down; beſides what I might have
Out of my Stock of natural Delights,
Augmented by thy gracious Benefits.
I view'd thy Furniture ſo fine,
So gay, ſo rich; and All for Me!
Strongly it ſpoke the Hand Divine,
And lur'd my raviſh'd Soul to Thee.
Such Stars I counted mine: both Heav'n and Earth
Paid me my Wages in a World of Mirth.
What Pleaſures could I want who ſerv'd
A King, where Joys my Fellows were?
Still my fond Hopes no Place reſerv'd
For pining Grief, or anxious Fear:
Thus did my ſimple Soul thy Yoke embrace,
And made her Youth and Fierceneſs ſeek thy Face.
At firſt Thou gav'ſt me Sweetneſſes,
And ſtrew'dſt with Flow'rs the narrow Way:
Smoothly my Soul ſunk down to Peace,
My ev'ry joyous Month was May.
But with my Years Sorrow did twiſt and grow.
And made a Party unawares for Woe.
My Fleſh chaſtis'd with tort'ring Pain
My Soul, and Sickneſs clave my Bones;
Pale Agues dwelt in ev'ry Vein,
And ſadly tun'd my Breath to Groans.
Sorrow was all my Soul; I ſcarce perceiv'd,
But by the Pains I ſuffer'd, that I liv'd.
Health's ſlowly-lingring, vain Return
A far ſeverer Loſs attends;
Sudden my raviſh'd Life I mourn,
I loſe it in my dying Friends.
Defenceleſs now, my ev'ry Comfort fled,
While Grief's whole Sea is empty'd on my Head.
How Thou wilt now thy Servant uſe,
Not one of all my Books can ſay.
On thy ignobler Works I muſe,
And wiſh like them my GOD t' obey:
Bleſt, could I emulate the lifeleſs Maſs,
Flow like the Stream, or flouriſh like the Graſs.
Yet muſt I, tho' oppreſt, ſubmit
Strongly my Mis'ry to ſuſtain—
Or I will now the Service quit,
And ſtrait ſome other Maſter gain—
Ah! my dear Lord, tho' I am clean forgot,
Let me not love Thee, if I love Thee not!
1.29. FRAILTY. From the ſame.
LORD, how in Silence I deſpiſe
The giddy Worldling's Snare!
This Beauty, Riches, Honour, Toys
Not worth a Moment's Care.
Hence painted Duſt, and gilded Clay!
You have no Charms for Me:
Deluſive Breath, be far away!
I waſte no Thought on thee.
But when abroad at once I view
Both the World's Hoſts and Thine!
Theſe ſimple, ſad, afflicted, few,
Theſe num'rous, gay and fine:
Loſt my Reſolves, my Scorn is paſt,
I boaſt my Strength no more;
A willing Slave they bind me faſt
With unreſiſted Pow'r.
O brook not this; let not thy Foes
Profane thy hallow'd Shrine:
Thine is my Soul, by ſacred Vows
Of ſtricteſt Union Thine!
Hear then my juſt, tho' late Requeſt,
Once more the Captive free;
Renew thy Image in my Breaſt,
And claim my Heart for Thee.
1.30. The COLLAR. From the ſame.
NO more, I cry'd, ſhall Grief be mine,
I will throw off the Load;
No longer weep, and ſigh, and pine
To find an Abſent GOD.
Free as the Muſe, my Wiſhes move,
Thro' Nature's Wilds they roam:
Looſe as the Wind, ye Wand'rers rove,
And bring me Pleaſure home!
Still ſhall I urge with endleſs Toil,
Yet not obtain my Suit?
Still ſhall I plant th' ungrateful Soil,
Yet never taſte the Fruit?
Not ſo, my Heart!—for Fruit there is,
Seize it with eager Haſte;
Riot in Joys, diſſolve in Bliſs,
And pamper ev'ry Taſte.
On Right and Wrong thy Thoughts no more
In cold Diſpute employ;
Forſake thy Cell, the Bounds paſs o'er,
And give a Looſe to Joy.
Conſcience and Reaſon's Pow'r deride,
Let ſtronger Nature draw,
Self be thy End, and Senſe thy Guide,
And Appetite thy Law.
Away, ye Shades, while light I riſe,
I tread you all beneath!
Graſp the dear Hours my Youth ſupplies,
Nor idly dream of Death.
Whoe'er enſlav'd to Grief and Pain,
Yet ſtarts from Pleaſure's Road,
Still let him weep, and ſtill complain,
And ſink beneath his Load—
But as I rav'd, and grew more wild
And fierce at ev'ry Word,
Methought I heard One calling "Child!"
And I reply'd—"My Lord!"
1.31. GRACE. From the ſame.
MY Stock lies dead, and no Increaſe
Does thy Paſt Gifts improve:
O let thy Graces without ceaſe
Drop gently from above.
If ſtill the Sun ſhould hide his Face,
Earth would a Dungeon prove,
Thy Works Night's Captives: O let Grace
Drop gently from above.
The Dew unſought each Morning falls,
Leſs bounteous is thy Dove?
The Dew for which my Spirit calls,
Drop gently from above.
Death is ſtill digging like a Mole
My Grave, where'er I move;
Let Grace work too, and on my Soul
Drop gently from above.
Sin is ſtill ſpreading o'er my Heart
A Hardneſs void of Love;
Let ſuppling Grace, to croſs her Art,
Drop gently from above.
O come; for Thou doſt know the Way!
Or if Thou wilt not move,
Tranſlate me, where I need not ſay
Drop gently from above.
1.32. GRATEFULNESS. From the ſame.
THOU, who haſt giv'n ſo much to me,
O give a grateful Heart:
See how thy Beggar works on Thee
By acceptable Art!
He makes thy Gifts occaſion more;
And ſays, if here he's croſt,
All Thou haſt giv'n him heretofore,
Thyſelf, and All is loſt.
But Thou didſt reckon, when at firſt
Our Wants thy Aid did crave,
What it would come to at the worſt
Such needy Worms to ſave.
Perpetual Knockings at thy Door,
Tears ſullying all thy Rooms;
Gift upon Gift; much would have more,
And ſtill thy Suppliant comes.
Yet thy unweary'd Love went on;
Allow'd us all our Noiſe;
Nay Thou haſt dignify'd a Groan,
And made a Sigh thy Joys.
Wherefore I cry, and cry again,
Nor canſt Thou quiet be,
Till my repeated Suit obtain
A Thankful Heart from Thee.
Hear then, and Thankfulneſs impart
Continual as thy Grace;
O add to all thy Gifts a Heart
Whoſe Pulſe may be thy Praiſe!
1.33. The METHOD. From the ſame.
LAment, unhappy Heart, lament!
Since GOD refuſes ſtill
To hear thy Pray'r, ſome Diſcontent
Unknown muſt cool his Will.
Doubtleſs thy heav'nly Father could
Give All thy Suit does move;
For He is Pow'r: And ſure He would
Give All; for He is Love.
Go then the ſecret Cauſe explore,
Go ſearch thy inmoſt Soul:
Let Earth divide thy Care no more,
Since Heav'n requires the Whole.
Ha! What do I here written ſee?
It tells me "Yeſterday
Cold I prefer'd my careleſs Plea,
And only ſeem'd to Pray".
But ſtay—What read I written there?
"Something I would have done;
His Spirit mov'd me to forbear,
Yet boldly I went on."
Then bend once more thy Knees and pray,
Once more lift up thy Voice:
Seek Pardon firſt; and GOD will ſay
"Again, Glad Heart, rejoice."
1.34. Grieve not the HOLY SPIRIT.
From the ſame.
AND art thou griev'd, O Sacred Dove,
When I deſpiſe or croſs thy Love?
Griev'd for a Worm; when ev'ry Tread
Cruſhes, and leaves the Reptile dead!
Then Mirth be ever baniſh'd hence,
Since Thou art pain'd by my Offence;
I ſin not to my Grief alone,
The Comforter within doth groan.
Then weep my Eyes, for GOD doth grieve!
Weep, fooliſh Heart, and weeping live:
Tears for the Living Mourner plead,
But ne'er avail the hopeleſs Dead.
Lord, I adjudge myſelf to Grief,
To endleſs Tears without Relief:
Yet O! t' exact thy Due forbear,
And ſpare a feeble Creature, ſpare!
Still if I wail not, (ſtill to wail
Nature denies, and Fleſh would fail)
Lord, pardon—for thy Son makes good
My Want of Tears, with Store of Blood.
1.35. The SIGH. From the ſame.
MY Heart did heave, and there came forth
By that I knew that Thou waſt in the Grief,
(Making a Golden Sceptre of thy Rod)
To guide and govern it to my Relief.
Hadſt Thou not had a more than equal Part,
Sure the unruly Sigh had broke my Heart.
But ſince thy Will my Bounds of Life aſſign'd,
Thou know'ſt my Frame: and if a ſingle Sigh
Ask ſo much Breath, what then remains behind?
Why! if ſome Years of Life together fly,
The ſwiftly-wafting Sigh then only is
A Gale to bring me ſooner to my Bliſs!
Thy Life on Earth was Grief: to this Thou ſtill
Art conſtant, while thy ſuff'ring Majeſty
Touch'd with my Mis'ry, feels whate'er I feel,
Adopts my Woes, and daily grieves in me.
Thy Death was but begun on Calvary;
Thou ev'ry Hour doſt in thy Members die!
1.36. The FLOWER. From the ſame.
WHILE ſad my Heart, and blaſted mourns,
How chearing, Lord, and thy Returns,
How ſweet the Life, the Joys they bring!
Grief in thy Preſence melts away.
Refreſh'd I hail the gladſome Day,
As Flow'rs ſalute the riſing Spring.
Who would have thought my wither'd Heart
Again ſhould feel thy ſov'reign Art,
A kindly Warmth again ſhould know?
Late like the Flow'r, whoſe drooping Head
Sinks down, and ſeeks its native Bed
To ſee the Mother-Root below.
Theſe are thy Wonders, Lord of Pow'r,
Killing and Quick'ning! One ſhort Hour
Lifts up to Heav'n, and ſinks to Hell:
Thy Will ſupreme diſpoſes All;
We prove thy Juſtice in our Fall,
Thy Mercy in our Riſe we feel.
O that my Lateſt Change were o'er!
O were I plac'd where Sin no more
With its Attendant Grief, could come!
Stranger to Change, I then ſhould riſe
Amidſt the Plants of Paradiſe,
And flouriſh in Eternal Bloom.
Many a Spring ſince here I grew,
I ſeem'd my Verdure to renew,
And higher ſtill to riſe and higher:
Water'd by Tears, and fan'd by Sighs,
I pour'd my Fragrance thro' the Skies,
And heav'nward ever ſeem'd t' aſpire.
But while I grow, as Heav'n were mine,
Thine Anger comes, and I decline;
Faded my Bloom, my Glory loſt:
Who can the deadly Cold ſuſtain,
Or ſtand beneath the chilling Pain
When blaſted by thine Anger's Froſt?
And now in Age I bud again,
Once more I feel the Vernal Rain,
Tho' dead ſo oft I live and write:
Sure I but dream! It cannot be
That I, my GOD, that I am He
On whom thy Tempeſts fell all Night!
Theſe are thy Wonders, Lord of Love,
Thy Mercy thus delights to prove
We are but Flow'rs that bloom and die!
Soon as This ſaving Truth we ſee,
Within thy Garden plac'd by Thee,
Time we ſurvive, and Death defy.
1.37. DESERTION. From the ſame.
JOY of my Soul, when Thou art gone,
And I (which cannot be) Alone;
(It cannot, Lord! for I on Thee
Depend, and Thou abid'ſt in me.)
But when Thou doſt the Senſe repreſs,
Th' extatic Influence of thy Grace;
Seem to deſert thy lov'd Abode,
And leave me ſunk beneath my Load:
O what a Damp and deadly Shade,
What Horrors then my Soul invade!
Leſs ghaſtly low'rs the gloomieſt Night
Than the Eclipſe that veils thy Light.
O do not, do not thus withdraw,
Leſt Sin ſurprize me void of Awe,
And when Thou doſt but ſhine leſs clear,
Say boldly, That Thou art not here.
Thou, Lord, and only Thou canſt tell
How dead the Life which then I feel;
Purſu'd by Sin's inſulting Boaſt,
That "I may ſeek—but Thou art loſt!"
I half believe (the deadly Cold
Does all my Pow'rs ſo faſt infold)
That Sin ſays true. But while I grieve,
Again I ſee thy Face, and Live!
1.38. A TRUE HYMN. From the ſame.
MY Joy, my Life, my Crown of Bliſs,
My Heart was muſing all the Day,
Fain would it ſpeak; yet only this,
"My Joy, my Life, my Crown," could ſay
Few as they are, and void of Art,
Yet ſlight not, Lord, theſe humble Words
Fine is that Hymn which ſpeaks the Heart,
The Heart that to the Lines accords.
He, who requires his Creature's Time,
And all his Soul, and Strength and Mind,
Complains, if Heartleſs flows the Rhyme,
What makes the Hymn is ſtill behind:
The ſcanty Verſe Himſelf ſupplies,
Let but the fervent Heart be mov'd;
And when it ſays with longing Sighs
"O could I love!" GOD writeth "Lov'd!"
1.39. The TEMPER. From the ſame.
O Lord, how gladly would my Rhymes
Engrave thy Love in Steel,
If what my Soul doth feel ſometimes,
My Soul might ever feel!
Tho' there were forty Heav'ns or more,
Sometimes I mount them all;
Sometimes I hardly reach a Score,
Sometimes to Hell I fall.
Rack me not to ſuch vaſt Extent;
Theſe Lengths belong to Thee;
The World's too little for thy Tent,
A Grave too big for me.
O mete not Arms with Man, nor ſtretch
A Worm from Heav'n to Hell!
Strive not with Duſt, nor let a Wretch
Thy Pow'r Almighty feel.
Yet take thy Way: thy Way is beſt;
Grant or deny me Eaſe:
This is but tuning of my Breaſt,
To make the Muſick pleaſe.
Riſe I to Heav'n, or ſink to Duſt,
In both, thy Hands appear;
Thy Pow'r and Love, my Love and Truſt
Make One Place Ev'ry where I
1.42. A HYMN for MIDNIGHT.
WHILE Midnight Shades the Earth o'erſpread,
And veil the Boſom of the Deep,
Nature reclines her weary Head,
And Care reſpires and Sorrows ſleep:
My Soul ſtill aims at Nobler Reſt,
Aſpiring to her Saviour's Breaſt.
Aid me, ye hov'ring Spirits near,
Angels and Miniſters of Grace;
Who ever, while you guard us here,
Behold your Heav'nly Father's Face!
Gently my raptur'd Soul convey
To Regions of Eternal Day.
Fain would I leave this Earth below.
Of Pain and Sin the dark Abode;
Where ſhadowy Joy, or ſolid Woe
Allures, or tears me from my GOD:
Doubtful and Inſecure of Bliſs,
Since Death alone confirms me His.
Till then, to Sorrow born I ſigh,
And gaſp, and languiſh after Home;
Upward I ſend my ſtreaming Eye,
Expecting till the Bridegroom come:
Come quickly, Lord! Thy own receive,
Now let me ſee thy Face, and live.
Abſent from Thee, my exil'd Soul
Deep in a Fleſhly Dungeon groans;
Around me Clouds of Darkneſs roll,
And lab'ring Silence ſpeaks my Moans:
Come quickly, Lord! Thy Face diſplay,
And look my Midnight into Day.
Error and Sin, and Death are o'er
If Thou reverſe the Creature's Doom;
Sad, Rachel weeps her Loſs no more,
If Thou the GOD, the Saviour come:
Of Thee poſſeſt, in Thee we prove
The Light, the Life, the Heav'n of Love.
1.43. After conſidering ſome of his Friends.
WHY do the Deeds of happier Men
Into a Mind return,
Which can, oppreſt by Bands of Sloth,
With no ſuch Ardors burn?
GOD of my Life and all my Pow'rs,
The Everlaſting Friend!
Shall Life ſo favour'd in its Dawn,
Be fruitleſs in its End?
To Thee, O Lord, my tender Years
A trembling Duty paid,
With Glimpſes of the mighty GOD
Delighted and afraid.
From Parents' Eye, and Paths of Men,
Thy Touch I ran to meet;
It ſwell'd the Hymn, and ſeal'd the Pray'r,
'Twas calm, and ſtrange, and ſweet!
Oft when beneath the Work of Sin
Trembling and dark I ſtood,
And felt the Edge of eager Thought,
And felt the kindling Blood:
Thy Dew came down—my Heart was Thine,
It knew nor Doubt nor Strife;
Cool now and peaceful as the Grave,
And ſtrong to Second Life.
Full of Myſelf I oft forſook
The Now, the Truth, and Thee,
For ſanguine Hope, or ſenſual Guſt,
Or earth-born Sophiſtry:
The Folly thriv'd, and came in Sight
Too groſs for Life to bear;
I ſmote the Breaſt for Man too baſe,
I ſmote—and GOD was there!
Still will I hope for Voice and Strength
To glorify thy Name;
Tho' I muſt die to all that's Mine,
And ſuffer All my Shame.
1.44. RELIGIOUS DISCOURSE.
TO ſpeak for GOD, to ſound Religion's Praiſe,
Of ſacred Paſſions the wiſe Warmth to raiſe;
T' infuſe the Contrite wiſh to Conqueſt nigh,
And point the Steps myſterious as they lie;
To ſeize the Wretch in full Career of Luſt,
And ſooth the ſilent Sorrows of the Juſt:
Who would not bleſs for This the Gift of Speech,
And in the Tongue's Beneficence be rich?
But who muſt talk? Not the mere modern Sage
Who ſuits the ſoften'd Goſpel to the Age;
Who ne'er to raiſe degen'rate Practice ſtrives,
But brings the Precept down to Chriſtian's Lives.
Not He, who Maxims from cold Reading took,
And never ſaw Himſelf but thro' a Book:
Not He, who Haſty in the Morn of Grace,
Soon ſinks extinguiſh'd as a Comet's Blaze.
Not He, who ſtrains in Scripture-phraſe t' abound
Deaf to the Senſe, who ſtuns us with the Sound:
But He, who Silence loves; and never dealt
In the falſe Commerce of a Truth Unfelt.
Guilty you ſpeak, if ſubtle from within
Blows on your Words the Self-admiring Sin:
If unreſolv'd to chooſe the Better Part,
Your forward Tongue belies your languid Heart,
But then ſpeak ſafely, when your peaceful Mind
Above Self-ſeeking bleſt, on GOD reclin'd,
Feels Him at once ſuggeſt unlabour'd Senſe,
And ope a Sluce of ſweet Benevolence.
Some high Behaſts of Heav'n you then fulfil,
Sprung from his Light your Words, and iſſuing
by his Will.
Nor yet expect ſo Myſtically long,
Till Certain Inſpiration looſe your Tongue:
Expreſs the Precept runs, "Do good to all;"
Nor adds, "Whene'er you find an inward Call."
'Tis GOD commands: no farther Motive ſeek,
Speak or without, or with Reluctance ſpeak:
To Love's Habitual Senſe by Acts aſpire,
And kindle, till you catch the Goſpel-Fire.
Diſcoveries immature of Truth decline,
Nor proſtitute the Goſpel Pearl to Swine.
Beware, too raſhly how you ſpeak the whole,
The Vileneſs, or the Treaſures of your Soul.
If ſpurn'd by ſome, where weak on Earth you lie,
If judg'd a Cheat or Dreamer, where you fly;
Here the Sublimer Strain, th' exerted Air
Forego; you're at the Bar, not in the Chair.
To the pert Reas'ner if you ſpeak at all,
Speak what within his Cognizance may fall:
Expoſe not Truths Divine to Reaſon's Rack,
Give him his own belov'd Ideas back,
Your Notions till they look like His, dilute;
Blind he muſt be—but ſave him from Diſpute!
But when we're turn'd of Reaſon's noontide Glare,
And Things begin to ſhew us what they are,
More free to ſuch your true Conceptions tell;
Yet graft them on the Arts where they excel.
If ſpringhtly Sentiments detain their Taſte;
If Paths of various Learning they have trac'd;
If their cool Judgment longs, yet fears to fix:
Fire, Erudition, Heſitation mix.
All Rules are dead: 'tis from the Heart you draw
The living Luſtre, and unerring Law.
A State of Thinking in your Manner ſhow,
Nor fiercely ſoaring, nor ſupinely low:
Others their Lightneſs and each inward Fault
Quench in the Stilneſs of your deeper Thought,
Let all your Geſtures fixt Attention draw,
And wide around diffuſe infectious Awe;
Preſent with GOD by Recollection ſeem,
Yet preſent, by your Chearfulneſs, with Them.
Without Elation Chriſtian Glories paint,
Nor by fond am'rous Phraſe aſſume the Saint.
Greet not frail Men with Compliments untrue,
With ſmiles to Peace confirm'd and Conqueſt due,
There are who watch t' adore the Dawn of Grace,
And pamper the young Proſelyte with Praiſe:
Kind, humble Souls! They with a right good Will
Admire his Progreſs—till he ſtands ſtock ſtill.
Speak but to Thirſty Minds of things Divine,
Who ſtrong for Thought, are free in yours to join.
The Buſy from his Channel parts with Pain,
The Lanquid loaths an Elevated Strain:
With theſe you aim but at good-natur'd Chat,
Where all, except the Love, is low and flat.
Not one Addreſs will diff'rent Tempers fit.
The Grave and Gay, the Heavy and the Wit.
Wits will ſift you; and moſt Conviction find
Where leaſt 'tis urg'd, and ſeems the leaſt deſign'd.
Slow Minds are merely paſſive; and forget
Truths not inculcated: to theſe repeat,
Avow your Counſel, nor abſtain from Heat.
Some gentle Souls, to gay Indiff'rence true,
Nor hope, nor fear, nor think the more for you.
Let Love turn Babbler here, and Caution ſleep,
Bluſh not for ſhallow Speech, nor muſe for deep;
Theſe to your Humour, not your Senſe attend,
'Tis not th' Advice that ſways them, but the
Others have large Receſſes in their Breaſt,
With penſive Proceſs all they hear digeſt:
Here well-weigh'd Words with wary Foreſight ſow,
For all you ſay will ſink, and ev'ry Seed will
At firſt Acquaintance preſs each Truth ſevere,
Stir the whole Odium of your Character:
Let harſheſt Doctrines all your Words engroſs,
And Nature bleeding on the Daily Croſs.
Then to yourſelf th' Aſcetic Rule enjoin,
To others ſtoop ſurprizingly benign;
Pitying, if from Themſelves with Pain they Part,
If ſtubborn Nature long holds out the Heart.
Their Outworks now are gain'd; forbear to preſs
The more you urge them, you prevail the leſs;
Let Speech lay by its Roughneſs to oblige,
Your ſpeaking Life will carry on the Siege:
By your Example ſtruck, to GOD they ſtrive
To live, no longer to Themſelves alive.
To poſitive Adepts inſidious yield,
T' enſure the Conqueſt, ſeem to quit the Field:
Large in your Grants; be their Opinion ſhown:
Approve, amend—and wind it to your own.
Couch in your Hints, if more reſign'd they hear,
Both what they will be ſoon, and what they are:
Pleaſing Theſe Words now to their conſcious Breaſt,
Th' anticipating Voice hereafter bleſt.
In Souls juſt wak'd the Paths of Light to chooſe,
Convictions keen, and Zeal of Pray'r infuſe.
Let them love Rules; till freed from Paſſion's
Till blameleſs Moral Rectitude they gain.
But leſt reform'd from each Extremer Ill,
They ſhould but Civilize old Nature ſtill,
The loftier Charms and Energy diſplay
Of Virtue model'd by the Godhead's Ray;
The Lineaments Divine, Perfection's Plan,
And all the Grandeur of the Inner Man.
Commences thus the Agonizing Strife
Previous to Nature's Death, and ſecond Life:
Struck by their own inclement piercing Eye,
Their feeble Virtues bluſh, ſubſide and die;
They view the Scheme that mimick Nature made,
A fancy'd Goodneſs, and Religion's Shade;
With angry Scorn they now reject the whole,
Unchang'd their Heart, undeify'd their Soul;
Till Indignation ſleeps away to Faith,
And GOD's own Pow'r and Peace take root in ſacred
Aim leſs to Teach than Love. The Work begun
In Words, is crown'd by artleſs Warmth alone.
Love to your Friend a Second Office owes,
Yourſelf and Him before Heav'ns Footſtool throws:
You place his Form as Suppliant by your Side,
(A helpleſs Worm, for whom the Saviour dy'd)
Into his Soul call down th' Eternal Beam,
And longing ask to ſpend, and to be ſpent for Him.
1.45. MAN'S MEDLEY. From Herbert.
HARK how the Woods with Muſick ring,
How ſweet the feather'd Minſtrels ſing!
They have Their Joys, and Man has His:
Yet, if we judge our State aright,
The preſent is not Man's Delight,
Hereafter brings his Perfect Bliſs.
This Life belongs to Things of Senſe,
Juſtly to this They make Pretence;
Angels poſſeſs the Next by Birth:
Man, grov'ling glorious Man alone
Angel and Brute unites in one,
While this Hand Heav'n, that touches Earth.
Glorious in Soul, he mounts and flies,
Grov'ling in Fleſh, he ſinks and dies:
His Treaſure holds in Earth confin'd—
The Body's Calls forbid to hear,
Born to regard with liſt'ning Ear▪
The Dictates of his nobler Mind.
Not but his gracious Maſter here
Allows and bids him taſte the Cheer:
As Birds, that drinking lift their Head,
Thankful like them he bids him drink,
And of thoſe Streams of Pleaſure think
That ever chear th' Immortal Dead.
His Joys are Double—And his Pains;
While of Two Winters he complains,
The Brute Creation feels but One:
Round, and Within him Tempeſts roll;
Froſt chills his Veins, and Thought his Soul;
Two Deaths he fears, and He alone.
Yet ev'n the ſharpeſt heavieſt Grief
May with it bring its own Relief,
If right his State the Suff'rer weighs:
Happy the Man, who finds the Art
To turn, by Thankfulneſs of Heart,
His double Pains to double Praiſe!
1.46. MISERY. From the ſame.
LORD, let the Angels praiſe thy Name,
Man is a Feeble, Fooliſh thing!
Folly and Sin play all his Game,
Still burns his Houſe, He ſtill doth ſing:
To day he's here, to Morrow gone,
The Madman knows it—and ſings on.
How canſt Thou brook his Fooliſhneſs?
When heedleſs of the Voice Divine,
Himſelf alone he ſeeks to pleaſe,
And carnal Joys prefers to Thine,
Eager thro' Nature's Wilds to rove,
Nor aw'd by Fear, nor charm'd by Love.
What ſtrange Pollutions does he wed,
Slave to his Senſes and to Sin!
Naked of GOD, his Guilty Head
He ſtrives in Midnight Shades to skreen:
Fondly he hopes from Thee to fly,
Unmark'd by thine all-ſeeing Eye.
The beſt of Men to Evil yield,
If but the ſlighteſt Trial come;
They fall, by Thee no more upheld:
And when Affliction calls them home,
Thy gentle Rod they ſcarce endure,
And murmur to accept their Cure.
Wayward they haſte, while Nature leads,
T' eſcape Thee; but thy Gracious Dove
Still mildly o'er their Folly ſpreads
The Wings of his expanded Love:
Thou bring'ſt them back, nor ſuff'reſt thoſe
Who Would be, to Remain thy Foes.
My GOD, thy Name Man cannot praiſe,
All Brightneſs Thou, all Purity!
The Sun in his Meridian Blaze
Is Darkneſs, if compar'd to Thee.
O how ſhall ſinful Worms proclaim,
Shall Man preſume to ſpeak thy Name?
Man cannot ſerve Thee: All his Care
Engroſs'd by grov'ling Appetite,
Is fixt on Earth; his Treaſure there,
His Portion, and his baſe Delight:
He ſtarts from Virtue's thorny Road,
Alive to Sin, but dead to GOD!
Ah fooliſh Man, where are thine Eyes?
Loſt in a Crowd of Earthly Cares:
Thy Indolence neglects to riſe,
While Husks to Heav'n thy Soul prefers;
Careleſs the ſtarry Crown to ſeize,
By Pleaſure bound, or lull'd by Eaſe.
To GOD, thro' all Creation's Bounds
Th' unconſcious Kinds their Homage bring;
His Praiſe thro' Ev'ry Grove reſounds,
Nor know the Warblers whom they ſing:
But Man, Lord of the Creatures, knows
The Source from whence their being flows.
He owns a GOD—but eyes him not,
But lets his mad Diſorders reign:
They make his Life a conſtant Blot,
And Blood Divine an Off'ring vain.
Ah Wretch! thy Heart unſearchable,
Thy Ways myſterious who can tell!
Perfect at firſt, and bleſt his State,
Man in his Maker's Image ſhone;
In Innocence divinely great
He liv'd; he liv'd to GOD alone:
His Heart was Love, his Pulſe was Praiſe,
And Light and Glory deck'd his Face.
But alter'd now and faln he is,
Immerſt in Fleſh, and dead within;
Dead to the Taſte of native Bliſs,
And ever ſinking into Sin:
Nay by his wretched Self undone.
Such is Man's State—And ſuch my own!
1.48. REPENTANCE. From the ſame.
LORD, I confeſs my Sin is great,
Great is my Sin! O gently treat
Thy tender Flow'r, thy fading Bloom,
Whoſe LIfe's ſtill aiming at a Tomb.
Have Mercy, Lord! Lo I confeſs
I feel, I mourn my Fooliſhneſs:
O ſpare me, whom thy Hands have made,
A with'ring Leaf, a fleeting Shade.
Sweeten at length this bitter Bowl
Which Thou haſt pour'd into my Soul!
O tarry not! If ſtill Thou ſtay,
Here ſets in Death my ſhort-liv'd Day.
When Thou for Sin rebukeſt Man,
His drooping Heart is fill'd with Pain;
Blaſted his Strength, his Beauty too
Conſumes away as Morning Dew.
When wilt Thou Sin and Grief deſtroy
That all the broken Bones may joy;
And at thy all-reviving Word
Dead Sinners riſe, and praiſe the Lord?
1.49. COMPLAINING. From the ſame.
THOU, Lord, my Pow'r and Wiſdom art,
O do not then reject my Heart!
Thy Clay that weeps, thy Duſt I am
That calls, O put me not to Shame!
Thy Glories, Lord, in all things ſhine,
Thine is the Deed, the Praiſe is Thine:
A ſeeble helpleſs Creature. I
Do at thy Pleaſure live or die.
Art Thou All Juſtice?—ſhews thy Word
Thro' Ev'ry Page and Angry Lord?
Am I all Tears?—Is this to live?
Is all my Buſineſs here, to grieve?
Fill not my Life's ſhort Hour with Pain:
Or, O contract the Wretched Span;
So ſhall I mount from Sorrow free,
And find Relief and Heav'n in Thee!
1.50. HOME. From the ſame.
FAINT is my Head, and ſick my Heart,
While Thou doſt ever, ever ſtay!
Fixt in my Soul I feel thy Dart,
Groaning I feel it Night and Day:
Come, Lord, and ſhew Thyſelf to me,
Or take, O take me up to Thee!
Canſt Thou with-hold thy healing Grace,
So kindly laviſh of thy Blood;
When ſwiftly trickling down thy Face,
For Me the purple Current flow'd!
Come Lord, and ſhew, &c.
When Man was loſt, LOVE look'd about,
To ſee what Help in Earth or Sky:
In vain; for none appear'd without,
The Help did in thy Boſom lie!
Come, Lord, &c.
There lay thy Son: but left his Reſt
Thraldom and Mis'ry to remove
From thoſe, who Glory once poſſeſt,
But wantonly abus'd thy Love.
Come, Lord, &c.
He came—O my Redeemer dear!
And canſt Thou after this be ſtrange?
Not yet within my Heart appear!
Can Love like Thine or fail or change?
Come Lord, &c.
But if Thou tarrieſt, why muſt I?
My GOD, what is this World to me!
This World of Woe—hence let them fly,
The Clouds that part my Soul and Thee.
Come, Lord, &c.
Why ſhould this weary World delight,
Or Senſe th'immortal Spirit bind?
Why ſhould frail Beauty's Charms invite,
The trifling Charms of Womankind?
Come, Lord, &c.
A Sigh Thou breath'ſt into my Heart,
And earthly Joys I view with Scorn:
Far from my Soul, ye Dreams depart,
Nor mock me with your vain Return!
Come, Lord, &c.
Sorrow and Sin, and Loſs and Pain
Are all that here on Earth we ſee;
Reſtleſs we pant for Eaſe in vain,
In vain—till Eaſe we find in Thee.
Come, Lord, &c.
Idly we talk of Harveſts here,
Eternity our Harveſt is:
Grace brings the great Sabbatic Year,
When ripen'd into Glorious Bliſs.
Come, Lord, &c.
O looſe this Frame, Life's Knot untie,
That my free Soul may uſe her Wing;
Now pinion'd with Mortality,
A weak, entangled, wretched Thing!
Come, Lord, &c.
Why ſhould I longer ſtay and groan?
The moſt of me to Heav'n is fled:
My Thoughts and Joys are thither gone;
To all below I now am dead.
Come, Lord, &c.
Come, deareſt Lord! my Soul's Deſire
With eager Pantings gaſps for Home:
Thee, Thee my reſtleſs Hopes require;
My Fleſh and Spirit bid Thee come!
Come, Lord, and ſhew Thyſelf to me,
Or take, O take me up to Thee!
1.51. LONGING. From the ſame.
WITH bending Knees, and aking Eyes,
Weary and faint, to Thee my Cries,
To Thee my Tears, my Groans I ſend:
O when ſhall my Complainings end?
Wither'd my Heart, like barren Ground
Accurſt of GOD; my Head turns round,
My Throat is hoarſe: I faint, I fall,
Yet falling ſtill for Pity call.
Eternal Streams of Pity flow
From Thee their Source to Earth below:
Mothers are kind, becauſe Thou art,
Thy Tenderneſs o'erflows their Heart.
LORD of my Soul, bow down thine Ear,
Hear, Bowels of Compaſſion, hear!
O give not to the Winds my Pray'r:
Thy Name, thy hallow'd Name is there!
Look on my Sorrows, mark them well,
The Shame, the Pangs, the Fires I feel:
Conſider, LORD; thine Ear incline!
Thy Son hath made my Suff'rings Thine.
Thou, JESU, on th' accurſed Tree
Didſt bow thy Dying Head for me;
Incline it now! Who made the Ear,
Shall he; ſhall He forget to hear!
See thy poor Duſt, in Pity ſee,
It ſtirs, it creeps, it aims at Thee!
Haſte, ſave it from the greedy Tomb!
Come!—Ev'ry Atom bids Thee come!
'Tis Thine to help! Forget me not!
O be thy Mercy ne'er forgot!
Lock'd is thy Ear? Yet ſtill my Plea
May ſpeed: for Mercy keeps the Key.
Thou tarrieſt, while I ſink, I die,
And fall to Nothing! Thou on high
Seeſt me Undone. Yet am I ſtil'd
By Thee (loſt as I am) thy Child!
Didſt Thou for This forſake thy Throne?
Where are thy Ancient Mercies gone?
Why ſhould my Pain my Guilt ſurvive,
And Sin be dead, yet Sorrow live?
Yet Sin is dead; And yet abide
Thy Promiſes; they ſpeak, they chide:
They in thy Boſom pour my Tears,
And my Complaints preſent as Theirs.
Hear, JESU! hear my broken Heart!
Broken ſo long, that ev'ry Part
Hath got a Tongue that ne'er ſhall ceaſe,
Till Thou pronounce "Depart in Peace."
My Love, my Saviour, hear my Cry;
By theſe thy Feet at which I lie!
Pluck out thy Dart! Regard my Sighs;
Now heal my Soul, or now it dies.
1.52. The SEARCH. From the ſame.
WHITHER, O whither art Thou fled,
My Saviour and my Love?
My Searches are my daily Bread,
Yet unſucceſsful prove.
My Knees on Earth, on Heav'n mine Eye
Is fixt; and yet the Sphere,
And yet the Center both deny
That Thou, my GOD, art there.
Yet can I mark that Herbs below
Their fragrant Greens diſplay,
As if to meet Thee They did know,
While wither'd I decay.
Yet can I mark how Stars above
With conſcious Luſtre ſhine,
Their Glories borrowing from thy Love,
While I in Darkneſs pine.
I ſent a Sigh to ſeek Thee out,
Drawn from my Heart in Pain,
Wing'd like an Arrow; but my Scout
Return'd alas! in vain.
Another from my endleſs Store
I turn'd into a Groan,
Becauſe the Search was dumb before:
But all alas! was one.
Where is my GOD? What ſecret Place
Still holds, and hides Thee ſtill?
What Covert dares eclipſe thy Face?—
Is it thy Awful Will?
O let not That thy Preſence bound:
Rather let Walls of Braſs,
Let Seas and Mountains gird Thee round,
And I thro' all will paſs.
Thy Will ſo vaſt a Diſtance is,
Remoteſt Points combine,
Eaſt touches Weſt, compared to this,
And Heav'n and Hell conjoin.
Take then theſe Bars, theſe Lengths away,
Turn and reſtore my Soul:
Thy Love Omnipotent diſplay,
Approach! and make me whole.
When Thou, my LORD, my GOD art nigh,
Nor Life, nor Death can move,
Nor deepeſt Hell, nor Pow'rs on high
Can part me from thy Love.
For as thy Abſence paſſes far
The wideſt Diſtance known,
Thy Preſence brings my Soul ſo near,
That Thou and I are One!
1.54. DIVINE LOVE. From the German.
THOU hidden Love of GOD, whoſe Height,
Whoſe Depth unfathom'd no Man knows,
I ſee from ſar thy beauteous Light,
Inly I ſigh for thy Repoſe.
My Heart is pain'd, not can it be
At Reſt, till it finds Reſt in Thee.
Thy ſecret Voice invites me ſtill
The Sweetneſs of thy Yoke to prove;
And fain I would: but tho' my Will
Be fixt, yet wide my Paſſions rove.
Yet Hindrances ſtrew all the Way;
I aim at Thee, yet from Thee ſtray.
'Tis Mercy all, that Thou haſt brought
My Mind to ſeek her Peace in Thee!
Yet while I ſeek, but find Thee not,
No Peace my wandring Soul ſhall ſee.
O when ſhall all my Wandrings end,
And all my Steps to Thee-ward tend?
Is there a Thing beneath the Sun,
That ſtrives with Thee my Heart to ſhare?
Ah tear it thence, and reign alone,
The Lord of ev'ry Motion there:
Then ſhall my Heart from Earth be free,
When it has found Repoſe in Thee.
O hide this SELF from me, that I
No more, but CHRIST in me may live!
My vile Affections crucify,
Nor let one darling Luſt ſurvive.
In all things nothing may I ſee,
Nothing deſire, or ſeek but Thee!
O LOVE, thy Sov'reign Aid impart,
To ſave me from low-thoughted Care:
Chaſe this Self-will thro' all my Heart,
Thro' all its latent Mazes there.
Make me thy duteous Child, that I
Ceaſeleſs may Abba Father cry.
Ah no! ne'er will I backward turn:
Thine wholly, thine alone I am!
Thrice happy He, who views with Scorn
Earth's Toys for Thee his conſtant Flame.
O help, that I may never move
From the bleſt Footſteps of thy Love!
Each Moment draw from Earth away
My Heart, that lowly waits thy Call:
Speak to my inmoſt Soul, and ſay
I am thy Love, thy GOD, thy All!
To feel thy Pow'r, to hear thy Voice,
To taſte thy Love is all my Choice!
1.55. Written in the Beginning of a Recovery
PEACE, flutt'ring Soul! the Storm is o'er,
Ended at laſt the doubtleſs Strife:
Reſpiring now, the Cauſe explore
That bound thee to a wretched Life.
When on the Margin of the Grave,
Why did I doubt my Saviour's Art?
Ah! why miſtruſt his Will to ſave?
What meant that Fault'ring of my Heart?
'T was not the ſearching Pain within
That fill'd my coward Fleſh with Fear;
Nor Conſcience of uncancel'd Sin;
Nor Senſe of Diſſolution near.
Of Hope I felt no Joyful Ground,
The Fruit of Righteoufneſs alone;
Naked of CHRIST my Soul I found,
And ſtarted from a GOD unknown.
Corrupt my Will, nor half ſubdu'd,
Could I his purer Preſence bear?
Unchang'd, unhallow'd, unrenew'd
Could I before his Face appear?
Father of Mercies, hear my Call!
Ere yet returns the Fatal Hour,
Repair my Loſs, retrieve my Fall,
And raiſe me by thy quick'ning Pow'r.
My Nature re-exchange for Thine;
Be Thou my Life, my Hope, my Gain;
Arm me in Panoply Divine,
And Death ſhall ſhake his Dart in vain.
When I thy promis'd CHRIST have ſeen,
And claſp'd him in my Soul's Embrace,
Poſſeſt of my Salvation, Then—
Then, let me, LORD, depart in Peace!
1.56. After a Recovery from Sickneſs.
AND live I yet by Pow'r Divine?
And have I ſtill my Courſe to run?
Again brought back in its Decline
The Shadow of my parting Sun?
Wondring I ask, Is This the Breaſt
Struggling ſo late and torn with Pain!
The Eyes that upward look'd for Reſt,
And dropt their weary Lids agin!
The recent Horrors ſtill appear:
O may they never ceaſe to awe!
Still be the King of Terrors near,
Whom late in all his Pomp I ſaw.
Torture and Sin prepar'd his Way,
And pointed to a yawning Tomb!
Darkneſs behind eclips'd the Day,
And check'd my forward Hopes of Home.
My feeble Fleſh refus'd to bear
Its ſtrong redoubled Agonies:
When Mercy heard my ſpeechleſs Pray'r,
And ſaw me faintly gaſp for Eaſe.
JESUS to my Deliv'rance flew,
Where ſunk in mortal Pangs I lay:
Pale Death his Ancient Conq'ror knew,
And trembled, and ungraſp'd his Prey▪
The Fever turn'd its backward Courſe,
Arreſted by Almighty Pow'r;
Sudden expir'd its Fiery Force,
And Anguiſh gnaw'd my Side no more.
GOD of my Life, what juſt Return
Can ſinful Duſt and Aſhes give?
I only Live my Sin to mourn,
To love my GOD I only Live!
To Thee, benign and ſaving Pow'r
I conſecrate my lengthen'd Days;
While mark'd with Bleſſings, ev'ry Hour
Shall ſpeak thy co-extended Praiſe.
How ſhall I teach the World to love,
Unchang'd myſelf, unloos'd my Tongue?
Give me the Pow'r of Faith to prove,
And Mercy ſhall be all my Song.
Be All my Added Life employ'd
Thy Image in my Soul to ſee:
Fill with Thyſelf the Mighty Void;
Enlarge my Heart to compaſs Thee!
O give me, Saviour, give me more!
Thy Mercies to my Soul reveal:
Alas! I ſee their endleſs Store,
Yet O! I cannot, cannot feel!
The Bleſſing of thy Love beſtow:
For This my Cries ſhall never fail;
Wreſtling I will not let Thee go,
I will not, till my Suit prevail.
I'll weary Thee with my Complaint;
Here at thy Feet for ever lie,
With longing ſick, with groaning faint:
O give me Love, or elſe I die!
Without this beſt, divineſt Grace.
'Tis Death, 'tis worſe than Death to live;
'Tis Hell to want thy Bliſsful Face,
And Saints in Thee their Heav'n receive.
Come then, my Hope, my Life, my Lord,
And fix in me thy laſting Home!
Be mindful of thy gracious Word,
Thou with thy promis'd Father, come!
Prepare, and then poſſeſs my Heart,
O take me, ſeize me from above:
Thee Do I love, for GOD Thou art;
Thee Do I feel, for GOD is Love!
1.57. A PRAYER under Convictions.
FATHER of Light, from whom proceeds
Whate'er thy Ev'ry Creature needs,
Whoſe Goodneſs providently nigh
Feeds the young Ravens when they cry;
To Thee I look; my Heart prepare,
Suggeſt, and hearken to my Pray'r.
Since by Thy Light Myſelf I ſee
Naked, and poor, and void of Thee,
Thine Eyes muſt all my Thoughts ſurvey,
Preventing what my Lips would ſay:
Thou ſeeſt my Wants; for Help they call,
And ere I ſpeak, Thou know'ſt them all.
Thou know'ſt the Baſeneſs of my Mind
Wayward, and impotent and blind,
Thou know'ſt how unſubdu'd my Will,
Averſe to Good, and prone to Ill:
Thou know'ſt how wide my Paſſions rove,
Nor check'd by Fear, nor charm'd by Love.
Fain would I know, as known by Thee,
And feel the Indigence I ſee;
Fain would I all my Vileneſs owr,
And deep beneath the Burden groan:
Abhor the Pride that lurks within,
Deteſt and loath myſelf and Sin.
Ah give me, LORD, myſelf to feel,
My total Miſery reveal:
Ah give me, LORD, (I ſtill would ſay.)
A Heart to mourn, a Heart to pray;
My Buſineſs this, my only Care,
My Life, my ev'ry Breath be Pray'r.
Scarce I begin my ſad Complaint,
When all my warmeſt Wiſhes faint;
Hardly I lift my weeping Eye,
When all my kindling Ardors die;
Nor Hopes nor Fears my Boſom move,
For ſtill I cannot, cannot love.
Father, I want a thankful Heart;
I want to taſte how good Thou art,
To plunge me in thy Mercy's Sea,
And comprehend thy Love to me;
The Breadth, and Length, and Depth, and Height
Of Love divinely infinite.
Father, I long my Soul to raiſe
And dwell for ever on thy Praiſe,
Thy Praiſe with Glorious Joy to tell,
In Extaſy unſpeakable;
While the Full Pow'r of FAITH I know,
And reign triumphant here below.
1.58. The 53d Chapter of ISAIAH.
WHO hath believ'd the Tidings? Who?
Or felt the Joys our Words impart?
Gladly confeſs'd our Record true,
And found the Saviour in his Heart?
Planted in Nature's barren Ground,
And cheriſh'd by JEHOVAH's Care,
There ſhall th' Immortal Seed be found,
The Root Divine ſhall flouriſh there!
See the Deſire of Nations comes;
Nor outward Pomp beſpeaks Him near,
A Veil of Fleſh the GOD aſſumes,
A Servant's Form he ſtoops to wear;
He lays his every Glory by;
Ignobly low, obſcurely mean,
Of Beauty void, in Reaſon's Eye,
The Source of Lovelineſs is ſeen.
Rejected and deſpis'd of Men,
A Man of Griefs, inur'd to Woe;
His only Intimate is Pain,
And Grief is all his Life below.
We ſaw, and from the irkſome Sight
Diſdainfully our Faces turn'd;
Hell follow'd Him with fierce Deſpight,
And Earth the humble Object ſcorn'd.
Surely for Us He humbled was,
And griev'd with Sorrows not his own:
Of all his Woes were We the Cauſe,
We fill'd his Soul with Pangs unknown.
Yet Him th' Offender we eſteem'd,
Stricken by Heaven's vindictive Rod,
Afflicted for Himſelf we deem'd,
And puniſh'd by an Angry GOD.
But O! with our Tranſgreſſions ſtain'd,
For our Offence He wounded was;
Ours were the Sins that bruis'd and pain'd
And ſcourg'd, and nail'd Him to the Croſs.
The Chaſtiſement that bought our Peace,
To Sinners due, on him was laid:
Conſcience be ſtill! thy Terrors ceaſe!
The Debt's diſcharg'd, the Ranſom's paid.
What tho' we All as wandring Sheep
Have left our GOD, and lov'd to ſtray,
Refus'd his mild Commands to keep,
And madly urg'd the downward Way;
Father, on Him thy Bolt did fall,
The Mortal Law thy Son fulfill'd,
Thou laid'ſt on Him the Guilt of All,
And by his Stripes we All are heal'd.
Accus'd his Mouth He open'd not,
He anſwer'd not by Wrongs oppreſt;
Pure tho' He was from ſinful Spot
What Guilt He Silently confeſt!
Meek as a Lamb to Slaughter led,
A Sheep before his Shearers dumb
To ſuffer in the Sinner's ſtead
Behold the Spotleſs Victim come!
Who could his Heavenly Birth declare
When bound by Man he ſilent ſtood,
When Worms arraign'd Him at their Bar,
And doom'd to Death th' Eternal GOD!
Patient the Sufferings to ſuſtain
The Vengeance to Tranſgreſſors due,
Guiltleſs He groan'd and died for Man:
Sinners rejoice, He died for you!
For your imputed Guilt he bled,
Made Sin a ſinful World to ſave;
Meekly he ſunk among the Dead:
The Rich ſupplied an Honour'd Grave?
For O! devoid of Sin, and free
From Actual or Intail'd Offence,
No Sinner in Himſelf was He,
But pure and perfect Innocence.
Yet Him th' Almighty Father's Will▪
With bruiſing Chaſtiſements purſu'd,
Doom'd Him the Weight of Sin to feel,
And ſternly juſt requir'd his Blood.
But lo! the Mortal Debt is paid,
The coſtly Sacrifice is o'er,
His Soul for Sin an Offering made
Revives, and He ſhall die no more.
His numerous Seed He now ſhall ſee,
Scatter'd thro' all the Earth abroad,
Bleſt with His Immortality,
Begot by Him, and born of GOD.
Head to his Church o'er all below
Long ſhall He here his Sons ſuſtain;
Their bounding Hearts his Power ſhall know,
And bleſs the lov'd Meſſiah's Reign.
'Twixt GOD and Them He ſtill ſhall
The Children whom his Sire hath given,
Their Cauſe ſhall proſper in his Hand
While RIGHTEOUSNESS looks down from
While pleas'd He counts the Ranſom'd Race.
And calls and draws them from above;
The Travail of his Soul ſurveys,
And reſts in his Redeeming Love.
Tis done! my Juſtice asks no more,
The Satisfaction's fully made:
Their Sins He in his Body bore;
Their Surety all the Debt has paid.
My Righteous Servant and my Son
Shall each Believing Sinner clear,
And All, who ſtoop t'abjure their own,
Shall in His Righteouſneſs appear.
Them ſhall He claim His juſt Deſert,
Them His Inheritance receive,
And many a contrite humble Heart
Will I for his Poſſeſſion give.
Satan He thence ſhall chaſe away,
Aſſert his Right, his Foes o'ercome;
Stronger than Hell, retrieve the Prey,
And bear the Spoil triumphant Home.
For charg'd with all their Guilt he ſtood,
Sinners from Suffering to redeem,
For Them He pour'd out all his Blood,
Their Subſtitute, He died for Them.
He died; and roſe his Death to plead,
To teſtify Their Sins forgiven—
And ſtill I hear Him interceed,
And ſtill He makes Their Claim to Heaven!
HEB. xii. 2. Looking unto JESUS, the Author and
Finiſher of our Faith.’
WEARY of ſtruggling with my Pain,
Hopeleſs to burſt my Nature's Chain,
Hardly I give the Conteſt o'er,
I ſeek to free myſelf no more.
From my own Works at laſt I ceaſe,
GOD that creates muſt ſeal my Peace;
Fruitleſs my Toil and Vain my Care,
And all my Fitneſs is Deſpair.
LORD, I deſpair myſelf to heal,
I ſee my Sin, but cannot feel:
I cannot, till thy Spirit blow,
And bid th' Obedient Waters flow.
'Tis Thine a Heart of Fleſh to give,
Thy Gifts I only can receive:
Here then to Thee I all reſign,
To draw, redeem, and ſeal is Thine.
With ſimple Faith, to Thee I call.
My Light, my Life, my LORD, my All:
I wait the Moving of the Pool;
I wait the Word that ſpeaks me Whole.
Speak gracious Lord, my Sickneſs cure,
Make my infected Nature pure;
Peace, Righteouſneſs and Joy impart,
And pour Thyſelf into my Heart.
GAL. iii. 22. The Scripture hath concluded all under
Sin, that the Promiſe by Faith of
JESUS CHRIST might be given to them
JESU, the Sinner's Friend, to Thee
Loſt and undone for Aid I flee,
Weary of Earth, Myſelf, and Sin—
Open thine Arms, and take me in.
Pity and heal my ſin-ſick Soul,
'Tis Thou alone canſt make me whole,
Fal'n, till in Me thine Image ſhine,
And curſt I am till Thou art mine.
Hear, JESU, hear my helpleſs Cry,
O ſave a Wretch condemn'd to die!
The Sentence in Myſelf I feel,
And all my Nature teems with Hell.
When ſhall Concupiſcence and Pride
No more my tortur'd Heart divide!
When ſhall this Agony be o'er,
And the Old Adam rage no more!
Awake, the Woman's Conqu'ring Seed,
Awake, and bruiſe the Serpent's Head,
Tread down thy Foes, with Power controul
The Beaſt and Devil in my Soul.
The Manſion for Thyſelf prepare,
Diſpoſe my Heart by Entring there!
'Tis This alone can make me clean,
'Tis This alone can caſt out Sin.
Long have I vainly hop'd and ſtrove
To force my Hardneſs into Love,
To give Thee all thy Laws require;
And labour'd in the Purging Fire.
A thouſand ſpecious Arts eſſay'd,
Call'd the deep Myſtic to my Aid:
His boaſted Skill the Brute refin'd,
But left the ſubtler Fiend behind.
Frail, dark, impure, I ſtill remain,
Nor hope to break my Nature's Chain:
The fond ſelf-emptying Scheme is paſt,
And lo! conſtrain'd I yield at laſt.
At laſt I own it cannot be
That I ſhould fit Myſelf for Thee:
Here then to Thee, I all reſign,
Thine is the Work, and only Thine.
No more to lift my Eyes I dare
Abandon'd to a juſt Deſpair;
I Have my Puniſhment in View.
I Feel a thouſand Hells my Due.
What ſhall I ſay thy Grace to move?
LORD I am Sin—but Thou art Love:
I give up every Plea beſide
"LORD I am Damn'd—but Thou haſt died!
While groaning at thy Feet I fall
Spurn me away, refuſe my Call,
If Love permit, contract thy Brow,
And, if Thou canſt, deſtroy me now!
1.61. Hoping for GRACE. From the German.
MY Soul befor Thee proſtrate lies,
To Thee her Source my Spirit flies,
My Wants I mourn, my Chains I ſee:
O let thy Preſence ſet me free!
Loſt and undone, for Aid I cry;
In thy Death, Saviour, let me die!
Griev'd with thy Grief, pain'd with thy Pain,
Ne'er may I feel Self-love again.
JESU, vouchſafe my Heart and Will
With thy meek Lowlineſs to fill;
No more her Pow'r let Nature boaſt,
But in thy Will may mine be loſt.
In Life's ſhort Day let me yet more
Of thy enliv'ning Pow'r implore:
My Mind muſt deeper ſink in Thee,
My Foot ſtand firm from Wandring free.
Ye Sons of Men, here nought avails
Your Strength, here all your Wiſdom fails;
Who bids a ſinful Heart be clean?
Thou only, LORD, ſupreme of Men.
And well I know thy tender Love;
Thou never didſt unfaithful prove:
And well I know Thou ſtand'ſt by me,
Pleas'd from Myſelf to ſet me free.
Still will I watch, and labour ſtill
To baniſh ev'ry Thought of Ill;
Till Thou in thy good Time appear,
And ſav'ſt me from the Fowler's Snare.
Already ſpringing Hope I feel;
GOD will deſtroy the Pow'r of Hell:
GOD from the Land of Wars and Pain
Leads me, where Peace and Safety reign.
One only Care my Soul ſhall know,
Father, all thy Commands to do:
Ah deep engrave it on my Breaſt,
That I in Thee ev'n now am bleſt.
When my warm'd Thoughts I fix on Thee,
And plunge me in thy Mercy's Sea,
Then ev'n on me thy Face ſhall ſhine,
And [...] this dead Heart of mine.
So ev'n in Storms my Zeal ſhall grow;
So ſhall I thy Hid Sweetneſs know;
And feel (what endleſs Age ſhall prove)
That Thou, my LORD, my GOD, art Love!
1.62. The DAWNING. From Herbert.
AWAKE, ſad Heart, whom Sorrows drown,
Lift up thine Eyes, and ceaſe to mourn,
Unfold thy Forehead's ſettled Frown;
Thy Saviour, and thy Joys return.
Awake, ſad drooping Heart, awake!
No more lament, and pine, and cry:
His Death Thou ever doſt partake,
Partake at laſt his Victory.
Ariſe; if thou doſt not withſtand,
CHRIST's Reſurrection Thine may be:
O break not from the Gracious Hand
Which, as it riſes, raiſes Thee.
Chear'd by thy Saviour's Sorrows riſe;
He griev'd, that Thou mayſt ceaſe to grieve;
Dry with his Burial Cloths thine Eyes,
He dy'd Himſelf, that Thou mayſt live!
MATTH. V. 3. Bleſſed are they that mourn.’
JESU! my great High-prieſt above,
My Friend before the Throne of Love!
If now for Me prevails thy Prayer,
If now I find Thee pleading there;
If Thou the Secret Wiſh convey,
And ſweetly prompt my Heart to pray,
Hear; and my weak Petitions join,
Almighty Advocate, to Thine!
Fain would I know my utmoſt Ill,
And groan my Nature's Weight to feel,
To feel the Clouds that round me roll,
The Night that hangs upon my Soul.
The Darkneſs of my Carnal Mind,
My Will perverſe, my Paſſions blind,
Scatter'd o'er all the Earth abroad,
Immeaſurably far from GOD.
JESU! my Heart's Deſire obtain,
My Earneſt Suit preſent and gain,
My Fulneſs of Corruption ſhow,
The Knowledge of Myſelf beſtow;
A deeper Diſplicence at Sin,
A ſharper Senſe of Hell within,
A ſtronger Struggling to get free,
A keener Appetite for Thee.
For Thee my Spirit often pants,
Yet often in purſuing faints,
Drooping it ſoon neglects t' aſpire,
To fan the ever-dying Fire:
No more thy Glory's Skirts are ſeen,
The World, the Creature ſteals between;
Heavenward no more my Wiſhes move,
And I forget that Thou art Love.
O Sovereign Love, to Thee I cry,
Give me Thyſelf, or elſe I die.
Save me from Death, from Hell ſet free,
Death, Hell, are but the Want of Thee.
Quickned by thy imparted Flame,
Sav'd, when poſſeſt of Thee, I am;
My Life, my only Heav'n Thou art:
And lo! I feel Thee in my Heart!
1.64. The CHANGE. From the German.
JESU, whoſe Glory's ſtreaming Rays,
Tho' duteous to thy high Command
Not Seraph's view with open Face,
But veil'd before thy Preſence ſtand:
How ſhall weak Eyes of Fleſh, weigh' down
With Sin, and dim with Error's Night,
Dare to behold thy awful Throne,
Or view thy unapproached Light?
Reſtore my Sight! let thy free Grace
An Entrance to the Holieſt give!
Open my Eyes of Faith! thy Face
So ſhall I ſee; yet ſeeing live.
Thy Golden Scepter from above
Reach forth: ſee my whole Heart I bow:
Say to my Soul, Thou art my Love,
My Choſen midſt ten thouſand Thou.
O JESU, full of Grace! the Sighs
Of a ſick Heart with Pity view!
Hark how my Silence ſpeaks; and cries,
Mercy, Thou GOD of Mercy, ſhew!
I know Thou canſt not but be Good!
How ſhouldſt Thou, LORD, thy Grace reſtrain?
Thou, LORD, whoſe Blood ſo largely flow'd
To ſave me from all Guilt and Pain.
Into thy gracious Hands I fall,
And with the Arms of Faith embrace!
O King of Glory, hear my Call!
O raiſe me, heal me by thy Grace!
—Now Righteous thro' thy Wounds I am:
No Condemnation now I dread:
I taſte Salvation in thy Name,
Alive in Thee my Living Head!
Still let thy Wiſdom be my Guide,
Nor take thy Light from me away:
Still with me let thy Grace abide,
That I from Thee may never ſtray.
Let thy Word richly in me dwell;
Thy Peace and Love my Portion be,
My Joy t' endure, and do thy Will,
Till perfect I am found in Thee l
Arm me with thy whole Armour, LORD,
Support my Weakneſs with thy Might:
Gird on my Thigh thy conq'ring Sword,
And ſhield me in the threat'ning Fight.
From Faith to Faith, from Grace to Grace,
So in thy Strength ſhall I go on,
Till Heav'n and Earth flee from thy Face,
And Glory end what Grace begun.