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There the weary are at reft, &c.
YOURAGE my foul! behold the prize
The Savior's love provides;
Eternal life beyond the skies
For all whom here he guides.
The wicked ceafe from troubling there,
The weary are at reft;
Sorrow, and fin, and pain, and care,
No more approach the bleft.
A wicked world, and wicked heart,
With Satan now are join'd;
Each acts a too fuccessful part
In harraffing my mind.
In conflict with this threefold troop,
How weary, Lord, am I !
Did not thy promife bear me up,
My foul muft faint and die.
But fighting in my Savior's ftrength,
Tho' mighty are my foes,
I fhall a conqueror be at length
O'er all that can oppofe.
Then why, my foul, complain or fear?
The crown of glory fee!
The more I toil and fuffer here,
The fweeter rest will be.
What are these, and whence came they?
? E Nearer the throne than cherubs fland,
XALTED high, at God's right-hand,
With glory crown'd in white array,
My wond'ring foul fays, who are they?
A. These are the faints belov'd of God,
Wash'd are their robes in Jesus' blood;
More fpotless than the pureft white,
They thine in uncreated light.
Q. Brighter than angels, lo, they shine;
Their glories great-yea, all divine;
Tell me their origin, and fay
Their order what; and whence came they? A. Thro' tribulation great they came,
They bore the cross and scorn'd the shame;
Within the Living Temple bleft,
Near Chrift they dwell, and on him reft.
Q. And does the cross thus prove their gain?
And fhall they thus for ever reign,
Seated on fapphire thrones to praise
The wonders of redeeming grace?
A. Hunger they ne'er fhall feel again,
Nor burning thirft fhall they fuftain:
To wells of living waters led,
By God the Lamb, for ever fed.
Q. Unknown to mortal ears they fing
The fecret glories of their King:
Tell me the fubject of their lays,
And whence their loud exalted praise ?
A. Jefus the Savior is their theme;
They fing the wonders of his name;
They give him glory, and again
Repeat his praife and fay, Amen.
Heaven fure to all the chofen Race.
OW vaft the benefits divine,
Which we in Chrift poffefs,
Sav'd from the guilt of fin we are,
And call'd to holiness.
But not for works which we have done,
Or fhall hereafter do,
Hath God decreed on finful worms.
Salvation to beftow.
The glory, Lord, from first to last,
Is due to thee alone:
Aught to ourselves we dare not take,
Or rob thee of thy crown.
Our glorious Surety undertook
To fatisfy for man,
And grace was given us in him,
Before the world began.
This is thy will, that in thy love
We ever thould abide :
And lo; we earth and hell defy
To make thy counsel void.
Not one of all the chofen race,
But fhall to heav'n attain ;
Partake on earth the purpos'd grace,
And then with Jefus reign.t
Of Father, Son, and Spirit, we
Extol the threefold care,
Whofe love, whofe merit, and whose pow'r ~ Unite to lift us there.
The bumble Worfhip of Heaven.
ATHER, I long, I faint to fee
The place of thine abode :
I'd leave thine earthly courts, and flee
Up to thy feat, my God!
Here I behold thy diftant face,
And 'tis a pleafing fight;
But to abide in thine embrace,
Is infinite delight.
I'd part with all the joys of fense
To gaze upon thy throne;
Pleasure springs fresh for ever thence,
There all the heav'nly hofts are seen,
In fhining ranks they move,
And drink immortal vigour in
With wonder, and with love.
Then at thy feet with awful fear
Th' adoring armies fall;
With joy they fhrink to nothing there,
Before th' eternal ALL.
There I would vie with all the hoft
In duty and in blifs;
While less than nothing I could boaft,
And vanity cenfefs.
The more thy glories ftrike mine eyes,
The humbler I fhall lie;
Thus while I fink, my joys fhall rife
420. L. M. STEELE.
For afwette our feeble trains,
For a fweet infpiring ray
From the bright realms of endless day,
The blissful realms, where Jefus reigns!
There, low before his glorious throne,
Adoring faints and angels fall;
And, with delightful worship, own
His fmile their blifs, their heav'n, their all.
Immortal glories crown his head;
While tuneful hallelujahs rife,
And love and joy, and triumphi fpread
Through all the regions of the fkies.
He fmiles, and feraphs tune their fongs
To boundless rapture while they gaze;
Ten thousand thousand joyful tongues
Refound his everlasting praife.
There all the ranfom'd of the Lamb
Shall join, at last, the heav'nly choir :
O may the joy-infpiring theme
Now warm our hearts with holy fire!
Dear Savior, let thy Spirit feal
Our title to that blifsful place;
'Till death removes this earthly veil,
And glory crowns thy faving grace.