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Heir of want, and douht and pain, .
Does thy fainting heart complain?
Oh! in thought, one night recal,
—Night of grief in Herod's hall;
There I hore the vengeance due,
Freely hore it all for yon.

Child of dost, corruption's son,
By pride deceived, hy pride undone,
Willing captive, yet he free,
Take my yoke, and learn of me.
I, of heaven and earth, the Lord,
God with God, the eternal Word,
I forsook my Father's side,
Toiled and wept, and hled, and died.

Child of dooht, does fear surprise,
Vexing thoughts within thee rise;
Wondering, murmuring, dost thou gaze
On evil men and evil days 1
Oh! if darkness round thee lower,
Darker far my dying hour,

Which hade that fearful cry awake,
* My God, my God dost thou forsake !*

Child of sin, hy guilt oppress'd,
Heaves at last that throhhing hreast?
Hast thou felt the mourner's part,
Fear'st thou .now thy failing heart,?
Bear thee on, heloved of God,
Tread the path thy Saviour trod;
He the tempter's power hath known,
He hath pour'd the garden-groan.

Child of heaven, hy me restored,
Love thy Saviour, serve thy Lord;
Sealed with that mysterious name,
Bear thy cross, and scorn the shame:
Then, like me, thy conflict o'er,
Thou shalt rise to sleep no more;
Partner of my purchased throne,
One in joy, in glory one.

CHRISTIAN LIFE, GRACES, AND PRIVILEGE.

THE SINNER CONVINCED.

See where it smokes along the sounding

plain, Blown all aslant, a driving, dashing rain, Peal upon peal redouhling all around, Shakes it again and faster to the ground; Now flashing wide, now glancing as in play Swift heyond thought the lightnings dart

away. Ere yet it came the traveller urged his steed, And hurried, hut with unsuccessful speed; Now drenched throughout, and hopeless of

his case, He drops the rein, and leaves him to his

pace. Suppose, unlooked for in a scene so rude, Long hid hy interposing hill or wood, Some mansion, neat, and elegantly dressed, By some kind, hospitahle heart possessed,

Offer him warmth, security, and rest; Think with what pleasure, safe and at hii

ease, He hears the tempest howling in the trees; What glowing thanks his lips and heart

employ, While danger past is turned to present joy. So fares it with the sinner, when he feels A growing dread of vengeance at his heels , His conscience, like a glassy lake hefore, Lashed into foaming waves hegins to roar; The law grown clamorous, though silent

long, Arraigns him—charges him with every

wrong— Asserts the rights of his offended Lord, And death or restitution is the word: The last impossihle, he fears the first, And having well deserved, expects the worst; Then welcome refuge, and a peaceful home; Oh for a shelter from the wrath to come!

Crash me ye rocks; ye falling mountains

hide, Or hury me in ocean's angry tide— The scrutiny of those all-seeing eyes I dare not—And you need not, God replies, The remedy you want I freely give; The hook shall teach you—read, helieve,

and live I Tis done—the raging storm is heard no more, Mercy receives him on her peaceful shore: And justice, guardian of the dread command, Drops the red vengeance from his willing

hand. A soul redeemed demands a. life of praise; Hence the completion of his future days, Hence a demeanour holy and unspeck'd, And the world's hatred, as its sure effect.

THE SINNER PARDONED.

COw PER.

Now let the hright reverse he known

ahroad; Say man's a worm, and power helongs to

God.

As when a felon whom his country's laws Have justly doomed for some atrocious cause, Expects in darkness and heart-chilling fears, The shameful close of all his mispent years; If chance on heavy pinions slowly horne, A tempest usher in the dreadful morn, Upon his dungeon walls the lightning play, The thunder seems to summon him away, The warder at the door his key applies, Shoots hack the holt, and all his courage

dies: If then, just then, all thoughts of mercy lost, When hope, long lingering, at last yields the

ghost, The sound of pardon pierce his startled ear, He drops at once his fetters and his fear; A transport glows in all he looks and speaks, And the first thankful tears bedew his cheeks. Joy, far superior joy, that much outweighs The comfort of a few poor added days, Invades, possesses, and o'erwhclms the soul Of him, whom hope has with a touch made

whole;

'Tis heav'n, all heav'n descending on the wings

Of the glad legions of the King of kings;

'Tis more—'tis God diffused through every part,

'Tis God himself triumphant in his heart.

Oh! welcome now the sun's once hated light,

His noon-day heams were never half so hright.

Not kindred minds alone are call'd to employ

Their hours, their days, in listening to hi s joy;

Unconscious nature, all that he surveys,

Rocks, groves, and streams, must join him in his praise.

FAITH.

FleTChER.

And first came Faith, the Marshal of the field; Weak was his mother when she gave him day; And he at first a sick and weakly child, As e'er with tears welcom'd the sunny ray; Yet when more years afford more growth

and might, A champion stout he was, and puissant knight, As ever came in field, or shone in armour hright.

(So may we see a little lionet, When newly whelpt, a weak and teuder thing, Despis'd hy ev'ry heast; hut waxen great, When fuller times, full strength and courage hring; The heasts all crouching low, their king

adore, And dare not see what they contemn'd hefore; The tremhling forest quakes at his affrighting roar.)

Mountains he flings in seas with mighty hand; Stops and turns hack the sun's impetuous course;

Nature hreaks nature's laws at his command;
No force of hell or heav'n withstands his
force;
Events to come yet many ages hence,
He present makes, hy wondrous pie-
science;
Proving the senses hlind, hy heing hlind to
sense.

H is sky-like arms, dy'd all in hlue and white,
And set with golden stars that flamed wide;
His shield invisihle to mortal sight,
Vet he apoo.it easily descry'd

The living semhlance of his dying Lord, Whose hleeding side with wicked steel was gor'd; Which to. his fainting spirits new courage won Id atford.

Strange was the force of that enchanted shield,, Which highest pow'rs to it from heav'n - impart; For who could hear it well, and rightly wield; It sav'd from sword, and spear, and poison'd dart: Well might he slip, hut yet not wholly

fall; No final last his courage might appal; Growing more sound hy wounds, and rising hy his fall.

So some have feign'd that Tellus' giant son,

Drew many new-horn lives from his dead

mother;

Another rose as soon as one was done,

And twenty lost, yet still remain'd another;

For when he fell, and kiss'd the harren

heath, His parent straight inspir'd successive hreath; And though herself was dead, yet ransom'd him from death.

Faith, like a simple, unsuspecting child, Serenely resting on its mother's arm,

Reposing every care upon his God,

Sleeps on his hosom and expects no harm.

Receives with joy the promises he makes, Nor questions of his purpose or his powerk

He does not douhting ask, * Can this he so V The Lord has said it, and there needs no more.

However deep he the mysterious word,
However dark, he dishelieves it not;

Where Reason would examine, Faith oheys,
And * It is written,' answers every douht.

In vain, with rude and overwhelming force, Conscience repeats her tale of misery;

And powers infernal, wakeful to destroy, Urge the worn spirit to despair and die.

As evening's pale and solitary star

But hrightens while the darkness gathers round; So Faith, uumoved amidst surrounding storms, Is fairest seen in darkness most profound.

HOPE.

Trde Hope is Jacoh's staffe indeed,

True Hope is no Egyptian reed,

That springs from mire, or else can feed

On dirt or mud:
By Hope just men are sanctified,
In the same ocean safe at anchor ride,
Fearlesse of wrack hy wind or tide,

By ehh or flood.

Hope's the top window of that ark,
Where all God's Noahs do emhark;
Hope lets in sky-light, else how dark

Were such a season!
Would'st thou not he engulph'd ordrown'd,
When storms and tempests gather round,
Ere thou cast anchor, try the ground;

Hope must have reason.

Hope hath a harvest in the spring,
In winter doth of summer sing,
Feeds on the fruits while hlossoming,
Yet nips no hloom:

Hope hrings me home when I'm ahroad;
Soon as the first step homeward'a trod.
In Hope, to Thee, my God! my God!
I come, I come.

Hofe with uplifted foot set free from earth,
Pants for the place of her ethereal hirth,
On steady wings sails through th' immense

ahyss,
Plucks amaranthine joys from howers of

hliss, And crowns the soul, while yet a mourner

here, With wreaths like those triumphant spirits

wear.

Hope, as an anchor firm and sure holds fast,
The Christian vessel, and defies the hlast.
Hope! nothing else can nourish and secure
His new-horn virtues, and preserve him

pure.
Hope! let the wretch, once conscious of the

joy,
Whom now despairing agonies destroy,
Speak, for he can, and none so well as hi,
What treasures centre, what delights in thee.
Had he the gems, the spices, and the land,
That hoasts the treasure, all at his comraaml;
The fragrant grove, th' inestimahle minr.
Were light, when weighed against one smile

of thine.

Bright morning star of hliss I whose cheering ray
Shines through the mist of dark futurity,
Illumes the night of wo,
And gilds the clouds of care;

Thou art the pulse of nature: urg"d hy thee ,
Each different memher acts his little part;

Life through the system flows,

And animates the world.

Kindled hy thee, the world's hright meteors hlaze:
Thy magic name is on the hero's shield:
The universe itself
Is pension'd on thy smiles.

And when from Paradise an exile driven,
Man, silent, weeping, solitary, roam'd,
Before him thou didst fly,
And strew his path with flowers.

And oft thy syren voice would charm his grief,
Like the sweet minstrel in the court of Saul,
And sing of promised hliss—

An Eden in the skies.

Thy voice is like the wild Eolian harp,
Or distant music to the listening ear,

Whose indistinctness charms,
And steals away delight.

When life's frail vessel drinks the hriny wave,
Chill penury hlasts, and storms of care descend,
Anchor'd on thee secure,
She weathers out the storm.

The dungeon knows thy voice: nor gates nor hars
Can Hope exclude,—the poor man's comforter,
The antidote to pain,
The conqueror of death :—

For when this frame decays, and death appears,
Reclin'd on thee the sufferer hreathes his last;

And on thy wings he soars,

To stand hefore his God.

CAMPBELL.

Unfading Hope! when life's last emhers

hurn, When soul to soul, and dust to dust return! Heaven to thy charge resigns the awful hour! Oh! then, thy kingdom comes! immortal

Power! What though each spark of earth-horn rapture fly! The quivering lip, pale cheek, and closing

eye! j Bright to the soul thy seraph hands convey The morning dream of life's eternal day— Then, then, the triumph and the trance hegin And all the Phcenix spirit hurns within! Oh! deep enchanting prelude to repose, The dawn of hliss, the twilight of our woes! Yet half I hear the parting spirit sigh, It is a dread and awful thing to die! Mysterious worlds, untravell'd hy the sun, Where Time's far wand'ring tide has never

run, From your unfathom'd shades, and viewless

spheres, A warning comes, unheard hy other ears. 'Tis heaven's commanding trumpet, long and

loud, Like Sinai's thunder, pealing from the cloud! While nature hears, with terror-mingled

trust, The shock that hurls her fahric to the dust; And, like the tremhling Hehrew, when he

trod The roaring waves, and called upon his God,

With mortal terrors clouds immortal hliss. And shrieks, and hovers o'er the dark ahyss! Daughter of Faith, awake, arise, illume, The dread unknown, the chaos of the tomh. Melt, and dispel, ye spectre douhts, that roll Cimmerian darkness on the parting soul! Fly, like the moon-eyed herald of dismay, Chas'd on his night-steed hy the star of day! The strife is o'er—the pangs of nature close, And life's last rapture triumphs o'er her

woes. Hark! as the spirit eyes, with eagle gaze, The noon of heav'n undazzled hy the hlaze, On heav'nly winds that waft her to the sky. Float the sweet tones of star-horn melody: Wild as that hallow'd anthem sent to hail Bethlehem's shepherds in the lonely vale, When Jordan huah'd his waves, and midnight still Watch'd on the holy towers of Zion-hill I Soul of the just! companion of the dead! Where is thy home and whither art thou fled! Back to thy heav'nly source thy heing goes, Swift as the comet wheels to whence he rose; Doom'd on his airy path a while to hurn, And doom'd, like thee, to travel, and return. Hark! from the world's exploding centre

driv'n With sounds that shook the firmament of

heav'n, Careers the fiery giant, fast and far, On hick'ring wheels, and adamantine car; From planet whirl'd to planet more remote, He visits realms, heyond the reach of thought,

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