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ON THE AUTHOR'S BLINDNESS.
When I consider how my light is spent
Ere half my days, in this dark world and wide ;
Lodged with me useless, though my soul more bent To serve therewith my Maker, and present
My true account, lest He, returning, chide ;-
I fondly ask : But Patience, to prevent
Either man's work, or his own gifts ; who best
Bear his mild yoke, they serve Him best ; his state Is kingly; thousands at his bidding speed,
And post o'er land and ocean without rest ;
Blest pair of Syrens, pledges of Heaven's joy,
Their loud uplifted angel-trumpets blow;
As once we did, till disproportioned sin
" THE SPIRIT ALSO HELPETH OUR INFIRMITIES.”
MANY are the sayings of the wise
“ HAVING A DESIRE TO DEPART, AND TO BE WITH
LORD, it belongs not to my care,
Whether I die or live ;
And this Thy grace must give.
That I may long obey ;
That shall have the same pay ?
Christ leads me through no darker rooms
Than He went through before ;
Must enter by this door.
Thy blessed face to see ;
What must Thy glory be?