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Wisdom and mercy guide my way ;
Shall I resist them both ?
And crushed before the moth.
But ah! my inward spirit cries,
Still bind me to Thy sway ; Else the next cloud that veils my skies, ·
Drives all these thoughts away !
“ BUT HOW TO PERFORM THAT WHICH IS GOOD), I
Weak and irresolute is man;
The purpose of to-day,
To-morrow rends away.
The bow well bent, and smart the spring,
Vice seems already slain ;
And it revives again.
Some foe to his upright intent
Finds out his weaker part ;
But pleasure wins his heart.
'Tis here the folly of the wise
Through all his art we view ;
His conscience owns it true.
Bound on a voyage of awful length,
And dangers little known,
Man vainly trusts his own.
But oars alone can ne'er prevail,
To reach the distant coast; The breath of heaven must swell the sail,
Or all the toil is lost.
" I HID MY FACE FROM THEE FOR A MOMENT."
When darkness long has veiled my mind,
And smiling day once more appears,
The folly of my doubts and fears.
Straight I upbraid my wandering heart,
And blush that I should ever be
Or harbour one hard thought of Thee.
Oh! let me then at length be taught
What I am still so slow to learn,
Nor knows the shadow of a turn.
Sweet truth, and easy to repeat,
But when my faith is sharply tried,
Unskilful, weak, and apt to slide.