OBLATION OF A SICK CHILD.

FATHER, Thy will be done, not mine,
Thy only will be done!

To Thee my Isaac I resign,
I render up my son.

Without a murmuring wish I give

The child Thou gavest to me;
Or let him to Thy glory live,
Or let him die to Thee.

I dare not deprecate the cross,
Or of my loss complain,
Assured my momentary loss
Is his eternal gain.

I hear the providential word,

I bless the will divine;

Remove him from my bosom, Lord,

And take him up to Thine.

ON HIS DEATH.

WHEREFORE should I make my moan,
Now the darling child is dead?

He to early rest is gone,

He to paradise is fled:

1749.

I shall go to him, but he
Never shall return to me.

God forbids his longer stay;
God recalls the precious loan;
God hath taken him away,

From my bosom to His own:
Surely what He wills is best;
Happy in His will I rest.

Faith cries out, It is the Lord,

Let Him do as seems Him good! Be Thy holy Name adored:

Take the gift awhile bestowed: Take the child, no longer mine; Thine he is, forever Thine.

1749.

ON GOING TO A NEW HABITATION.

THE Son of Man supplies

My every outward need,

Who had not, when He left the skies,

A place to lay His head.
He will provide my place,
And in due season show

Where I shall pass my few sad days

Of pilgrimage below.

No matter where or how
I in this desert live,

If, when my dying head I bow,
Jesus my soul receive.

Blest with Thy precious Love,

Saviour, 't is all my care

To reach the purchased House above,
And find a mansion there.

An house with hands not made
Hast Thou not bought for me?
The full stupendous price was paid
In blood, on yonder Tree.
But ere Thou call me hence,
Lord, with Thyself impart
The pledge of mine inheritance,
And fill my loving heart.

An heir of endless bliss,
Now in a tent I dwell,

Till Thou my spotless soul dismiss
To joys unspeakable :

Till Thou in that glad Day
Make all Thy glories known,
And to the heavenly House convey,
And bid me share Thy throne.

Family Hymns, 1767.

ON HIS SON'S APOSTASY.

FAREWELL, my all of earthly hope,
My nature's stay, my age's prop,
Irrevocably gone!

Submissive to the will divine,
I acquiesce and make it mine,
I offer up my son.

But give I God a sacrifice

That costs me naught? my gushing eyes The answer sad express;

My gushing eyes and troubled heart, Which bleeds with its beloved to part, Which breaks through fond excess.

Yet since he from my heart is torn,
Patient, resigned, I calmly mourn
The darling snatched away.
Father, with Thee Thy own I leave:
Into Thy mercy's arms receive,
And keep him to that Day.

Keep (for I nothing else desire)
The bush unburnt amidst the fire,
And freely I resign

My child, for a few moments lent,
My child no longer: I consent
To see his face no more.

But hear my agonizing prayer,

And O preserve him, and prepare
To meet me in the skies,

When throned in bliss the Lamb appears,
Repairs my loss, and wipes the tears
Forever from my eyes.

The blessed day of my

release

(Should sorrow's pangs no sooner cease) Will swallow up my woe,

Make darkness light, and crooked straight, Unwind the labyrinths of fate,

And all the secret show.

But while Thy way is in the deep,
Thou dost not chide, if still I weep,
If still mine eyes run o'er.

The bitterness of death is past;
The bitterness of life may last
A few sad moments more.

Patient till death I feel my pain,
But neither murmur nor complain,
While humbled in the dust;
My sins the cause of my distress
I feel, and mournfully confess
The punishment is just.

Wherefore with soft and silent pace
I measure out my suffering days

In view of joys to come,