But God has breathed upon a worm,
And sent me, from above,
Wings such as clothe an angel's form,
The wings of joy and love.
With these to Pisgah's top I fly,
And there delighted stand,
To view beneath a shining sky
The spacious promised land.
The Lord of all the vast domain
Has promised it to me;
The length and breadth of all the plain,
As far as faith can see.
How glorious is my privilege!
To thee for help I call;
I stand upon a mountain's edge,
Oh save me, lest I fall!
Though much exalted in the Lord,
My strength is not my own;
Then let me tremble at his word,
And none shall cast me down.
LII. FOR THE POOR.
WHEN Hagar found the bottle spent,
And wept o'er Ishmael,
A message from the Lord was sent
To guide her to a well.*
Should not Elijah's cake and cruse +
Convince us at this day,
A gracious God will not refuse
Provisions by the way?
His saints and servants shall be fed,
The promise is secure;
"Bread shall be given them," he has said.
"Their water shall be sure." +
Repasts far richer they shall prove,
Than all earth's dainties are;
'Tis sweet to taste a Saviour's love,
Though in the meanest fare.
To Jesus then your trouble bring,
Nor murmur at your lot;
While you are poor and he is King,
You shall not be forgot.
LIII. MY SOUL THIRSTETH FOR GOD.
I THIRST, but not as once I did,
The vain delights of earth to share;
Thy wounds, Emmanuel, all forbid
That I should seek my pleasures there.
It was the sight of thy dear cross
First wean'd my soul from earthly things;
And taught me to esteem as dross
The mirth of fools and pomp of kings.
I want that grace that springs from thee,
That quickens all things where it flows,
And makes a wretched thorn like me
Bloom as the myrtle or the rose.
Dear fountain of delight unknown!
No longer sink below the brim;
But overflow, and pour me down
A living and life-giving stream!
For sure, of all the plants that share
The notice of thy Father's eye,
None proves less grateful to his care,
Or yields him meaner fruit than I.
LIV. LOVE CONSTRAINING TO OBEDIENCE.
No strength of nature can suffice
To serve the Lord aright:
And what she has she misapplies,
For want of clearer light.
How long beneath the law I lay
In bondage and distress!
I toil'd the precept to obey,
But toil'd without success.
Then, to abstain from outward sin
Was more than I could do;
Now, if I feel its power within,
I feel I hate it too.
Then, all my servile works were done
A righteousness to raise;
Now, freely chosen in the Son,
I freely choose his ways.
"What shall I do," was then the word,
"That I may worthier grow?"
"What shall I render to the Lord?"
Is my inquiry now.
To see the law by Christ fulfill'd,
And hear his pardoning voice,
Changes a slave into a child,*
And duty into choice.
LV THE HEART HEALED AND CHANGED BY MERCY.
SIN enslaved me many years,
And led me bound and blind;
Till at length a thousand fears
Came swarming o'er my mind.
"Where," I said, in deep distress,
"Will these sinful pleasures end?
How shall I secure my peace,
And make the Lord my friend?"
Friends and ministers said much
The gospel to enforce;
blindness still was such,
I chose a legal course:
Much I fasted, watch'd, and strove,
Scarce would show my face abroad.
Fear'd almost to speak or move,
A stranger still to God.
Thus afraid to trust his grace,
Long time did I rebel;
Till, despairing of my case,
Down at his feet I fell.
Then my stubborn heart he broke,
And subdued me to his sway;
By a simple word he spoke,
LVI. HATRED OF SIN.
HOLY Lord God! I love thy truth,
Nor dare thy least commandment slight;
Yet pierced by sin, the serpent's tooth,
I mourn the anguish of the bite.
But, though the poison lurks within,
Hope bids me still with patience wait;
Till death shall set me free from sin,
Free from the only thing I hate.
Had I a throne above the rest,
Where angels and archangels dwell,
One sin, unslain, within my breast,
Would make that heaven as dark as hell.
The prisoner, sent to breathe fresh air,
And bless'd with liberty again,
Would mourn, were he condemn'd to wear
One link of all his former chain.
But, oh! no foe invades the bliss,
When glory crowns the Christian's head;
One view of Jesus as he is
Will strike all sin for ever dead.
No fears he feels, he sees no foes,
No conflict yet his faith employs,
Nor has he learnt to whom he owes
The strength and peace his soul enjoys.
But sin soon darts its cruel sting,
And comforts sinking day by day: What seem'd his own, a self-fed spring, Proves but a brook that glides away. When Gideon arm'd his numerous host, The Lord soon made his numbers less; And said, "Lest Israel vainly boast,*
'My arm procured me this success.' Thus will he bring our spirits down,
And draw our ebbing comforts low, That, saved by grace, but not our own, We may not claim the praise we owe.
LVIII. TRUE AND FALSE COMFORTS.
O GOD, whose favourable eye
The sin-sick soul revives,
Holy and heavenly is the joy
Thy shining presence gives.
Not such as hypocrites suppose,
Who with a graceless heart
Taste not of thee, but drink a dose,
Prepared by Satan's art.
Intoxicating joys are theirs,
Who, while they boast their light,
And seem to soar above the stars,
Are plunging into night.
Lull'd in a soft and fatal sleep,
They sin, and yet rejoice;
Were they indeed the Saviour's sheep,
Would they not hear his voice?
Be mine the comforts that reclaim
The soul from Satan's power;
That make me blush for what I am,
And hate my sin the more.
'Tis joy enough, my All in All,
At thy dear feet to lie;
Thou wilt not let me lower fall,
And none can higher fly.
LIX. A LIVING AND A DEAD FAITH.
THE Lord receives his highest praise
From humble minds and hearts sincere;
While all the loud professor says
Offends the righteous Judge's ear.
To walk as children of the day,
To mark the precepts' holy light,
To wage the warfare, watch, and pray,
Show who are pleasing in his sight.
Not words alone it cost the Lord,
To purchase pardon for his own;
Nor will a soul, by grace restored,
Return the Saviour words alone.
With golden bells, the priestly vest,
And rich pomegranates border'd round,*
The need of holiness express'd,
And call'd for fruit as well as sound.
Easy, indeed, it were to reach
A mansion in the courts above,
If swelling words and fluent speech
Might serve, instead of faith and love.
But none shall gain the blissful place,
Or God's unclouded glory see,
Who talks of free and sovereign grace,
Unless that grace has made him free!
LX. ABUSE OF THE GOSPEL.
Too many, Lord, abuse thy grace,
In this licentious day;
And while they boast they see thy face,
They turn their own away.
Thy book displays a gracious light
That can the blind restore;
But these are dazzled by the sight,
And blinded still the more.
The pardon, such presume upon,
They do not beg, but steal;
And when they plead it at thy throne,
Oh! where's the Spirit's seal?
Was it for this, ye lawless tribe,
The dear Redeemer bled?
Is this the grace the saints imbibe
From Christ the living head?
Ah, Lord, we know thy chosen few
Are fed with heavenly fare;
But these, the wretched husks they chew
Proclaim them what they are.
The liberty our hearts implore
Is not to live in sin;
But still to wait at wisdom's door
Till mercy calls us in.
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