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.

LV. 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 toiled the precept to obey,

But toiled 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 chuse 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 fulfilled,
And hear his pardoning voice,
Changes a slave into a child,
And duty into choice.

Much I fasted, watched, and strove,
Scarce would show my face abroad,
Feared 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,
"Thy sins are done away."

LVII. 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 blessed with liberty again, Would mourn were he condemnedto 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.

LVIII. THE NEW CONVERT. THE new-born child of Gospel grace, Like some fair tree when summer's nigh,

Beneath Emmanuel's shining face

Lifts up his blooming branch on high.

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 seemed his own, a self-fed spring, Proves, but a brook that glides away.

When Gideon armed 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.

LIX. 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.

Lulled 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.

LX. 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 bordered round,

The need of holiness expressed,

And called 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!

LXI. 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.

LXII. THE NARROW WAY.

WHAT thousands never knew the road! What thousands hate it when 'tis known!

None but the chosen tribes of God Will seek or choose it for their own.

A thousand ways in ruin end,

One only leads to joys on high; By that my willing steps ascend, Pleased with a journey to the sky.

No more I ask or hope to find

Delight or happiness below;
Sorrow may well possess the mind
That feeds where thorns and thistles
grow.

The joy that fades is not for me,
I seek immortal joys above;
There glory without end shall be
The bright reward of faith and love.

Cleave to the world, ye sordid worms,

Contented lick your native dust! But God shall fight with all his storms Against the idol of your trust.

LXIII. DEPENDENCE.

To keep the lamp alive,
With oil we fill the bowl;

'Tis water makes the willow thrive, And grace that feeds the soul.

LXIV. NOT OF WORKS. GRACE, triumphant in the throne, Scorns a rival, reigns alone; Come and bow beneath her sway, Cast your idol works away! Works of man, when made his plea, Never shall accepted be; Fruits of pride (vain-glorious worm!) Are the best he can perform.

Self, the god his soul adores, Influences all his powers; Jesus is a slighted name, Self-advancement all his aim: But when God the Judge shall come To pronounce the final doom, Then for rocks and hills to hide All his works and all his pride! Still the boasting heart replies, "What! the worthy and the wise, Friends to temperance and peace, Have not these a righteousness?' Banish every vain pretence Built on human excellence; Perish everything in man, But the grace that never can.

LXV. PRAISE FOR FAITH.

Of all the gifts thine hand bestows,
Thou Giver of all good!
Not heaven itself a richer knows
Than my Redeemer's blood.

Faith too, the blood-receiving grace,
From the same hand we gain;
Else, sweetly as it suits our case,
That gift had been in vain.

Till thou thy teaching power apply,
Our hearts refuse to see,
And weak, as a distempered eye,
Shut out the view of thee.

Blind to the merits of thy Son,

What misery we endure!
Yet fly that hand from which alone
We could expect a cure.

We praise thee, and would praise thee
To thee our all we owe; [more,
The precious Saviour, and the power
That makes him precious too.

LXVI. GRACE AND PROVIDENCE.

ALMIGHTY King! whose wondrous hand
Supports the weight of sea and land;
Whose grace is such a boundless store,
No heart shall break that sighs for more;
Thy providence supplies my food,
And 'tis thy blessing makes it good;
My soul is nourished by thy word:
Let soul and body praise the Lord!

My streams of outward comfort came
From him who built this earthly frame;
Whate'er I want his bounty gives,
By whom my soul for ever lives.

Either his hand preserves from pain,
Or, if I feel it, heals again;
From Satan's malice shields my breast,
Or overrules it for the best.

Forgive the song that falls so low
Beneath the gratitude I owe!
It means thy praise, however poor,
An angel's song can do no more.

LXVII. I WILL PRAISE THE LORD AT ALL TIMES. WINTER has a joy for me,

While the Saviour's charms I read, Lowly, meek, from blemish free, In the snowdrop's pensive head. Spring returns, and brings along Life-invigorating suns:

Hark! the turtle's plaintive song Seems to speak his dying groans! Summer has a thousand charms,

All expressive of his worth; 'Tis his sun that lights and warms, His the air that cools the earth.

What! has Autumn left to say

Nothing of a Saviour's grace? Yes, the beams of milder day Tell me of his smiling face.

Light appears with early dawn, While the sun makes haste to rise; See his bleeding beauties drawn

On the blushes of the skies.

Evening with a silent pace,

Slowly moving in the west, Shows an emblem of his grace, Points to an eternal rest.

LXVIII. LONGING TO BE
WITH CHRIST.

To Jesus, the Crown of my Hope,
My soul is in haste to be gone;
Oh bear me, ye cherubim, up,

And waft me away to his throne ! My Saviour, whom absent I love, Whom, not having seen, I adore ; Whose name is exalted above

All glory, dominion, and power; Dissolve thou these bonds, that detain

My soul from her portion in thee, Ah! strike off this adamant chain, And make me eternally free.

When that happy era begins,

When arrayed in thy glories I shine, Nor grieve any more, by my sins, The bosom on which I recline;

Oh then shall the veil be removed, And round me thy brightness be poured,

I shall meet Him whom absent I loved, Shall see him whom unseen

adored.

And then, never more shall the fears, The trials, temptations, and woes, Which darken this valley of tears, Intrude on my blissful repose.

I

Or, if yet remembered above,

Remembrance no sadness shall raise, They will be but new signs of thy love, New themes for my wonder and praise.

Thus the strokes which from sin and from pain

Shall set me eternally free,

Will but strengthen and rivet the chain Which binds me, my Saviour! to thee.