I need not to confess my life, So come I to the throne of grace, Where mercy doth abound, Desiring mercy for my sins, To heal my deadly wound. Mercy, O Lord! mercy I ask: For mercy, Lord, is all my prayer: HOLY SCRIPTURE. HERE is the Spring where waters flow, To quench our heat of sin : Here is the tree where truth doth grow, To lead our lives therein. Here is the Judge that stints the strife, Here is the bread that feeds the life, The tidings of salvation dear, Come to our ears from hence; The fortress of our faith is here, And shield of our defence. Then be not like the swine, that hath A pearl at his desire, And takes more pleasure in the trough, And wallowing in the mire. Read not this Book, in any case, But with a single eye : Read not, but first desire God's grace To understand thereby. Pray still in faith, with this respect, To fructify therein; That knowledge may bring this effect, To mortify thy sin. Then happy thou in all thy life, What so to thee befals; Yea, doubly happy shalt thou be, When God by death thee calls. 66 ARE THEY NOT ALL MINISTERING SPIRITS?" AND is there care in heaven? and is there love There is; else much more wretched were the case How oft do they their silver bowers leave And their bright squadrons round about us plant; Oh! why should heavenly God to man have such regard! SWEET day, so cool, so calm, so bright, The bridal of earth and sky, Sweet rose, whose hue angry and brave And thou must die. Sweet Spring, full of sweet days and roses, And all must die. Only a sweet and virtuous soul, Like season'd timber, never gives; But though the whole world turn to a coal, |