« AnteriorContinuar »
O may I doubt no more,
But in His pleasure rest ; Built on His love, His truth and power,
My soul is truly blest :
T' accomplish His design,
All dark events agree ; And every attribute divine
Is now at work for me.
“ HE HATH PREPARED FOR THEM A city.”
JERUSALEM, my happy home!
Name ever dear to me,
In joy, and peace, and thee !
When shall these eyes Thy heaven-built walls
And pearly gates behold ?
And streets of shining gold ?
O when, thou city of my God,
Shall 1 thy courts ascend,
And sabbaths have no end ?
There happier bowers than Eden's, bloom,
Nor sin nor sorrow know : Blest seats ! through rude and stormy scenes, I onward press to you.
Why should I shrink at pain and woe,
Or feel at death dismay ?
And realms of endless day.
Apostles, martyrs, prophets, there,
Around my Saviour stand ; And soon my friends in Christ below,
Will join the glorious band.
Jerusalem! my happy home!
My soul still pants for thee;
When I thy joys shall sec.
“ THOU IN FAITHFULNESS HAST AFFLICTED ME.”
God's furnace doth in Zion stand,
But Zion's God stands by,
With an observant eye.
His thoughts are high, His love is wise,
His wounds a cure intend ;
He loves unto the end.
Thy love is constant to its line,
Though clouds oft come between ;
It might be always seen.
But I am weak, and forced to cry,
Take up my soul to Thee;
So shall I also be.
"THE MAID IS NOT DEAD, BUT SLEEPETH.”
LEFT in her little room alone,
The Ruler's child lay stiff and dead, While, vainly warm, the Syrian sun
Played round her cold and silent bed ;
While, vainly soft, from Judah's hills
Sighed through the lattice the soft air,
Nor heave again the bosom fair.
The voice of anguish and despair
Is loud within the chamber near, Of them lamenting bitterly
Her early doom with groan and tear.
Her mother maketh grievous moan :
"Ah! had the sire more swiftly sped, And brought the mighty Prophet here
Ere the last lingering breath was filed!