III. God hath built his Church below, Labour'd all his Art to fhew, Praife and blefs th' incarnate Word, IV. There are Aaron's mitred Sons, Mofes Legislative Chair; God's great Hierarchy is there. ས· Hail the venerable Name, Plenty deck thy Palaces, Jefus fend thee from above, VI. For my Friends and Brethren's fake, JOHN JOHN XV. 18, 19. I. THERE has my flumb'ring Spirit been, WHE So imperceptible, within, The Weight of this Egyptian Night! II. Where have they hid the WORLD fo long, III. Secure beneath its Shade I fat, To me were all its Favours fhewn: I could not tafte its Scorn or Hate; Alas, it ever lov'd its own! IV. JESUS, if half difcerning now, From Thee I gain this glimm'ring Light, V. O may I of thy Grace obtain The World with other Eyes to fee: Its Judgments falfe, its Pleafures vain, Its Friendship Enmity with thee. VI. Delufive World, thy Hour is past, VII. No! Thou blind Leader of the Blind, And flight thy Smiles, and dare thy Pow'r. VIII. Excluded from my Saviour's Pray's, Stain'd, yet not hallow'd with his Blood, Shalt thou my fond Affection fhare, Shalt thou divide my Heart with GOD? IX. No! tho' it rouze thy utmost Rage, Tho' Hell with thine its Pow'rs engage, X. Load me with Scorn, Reproach and Shame; As Evil ftill caft out my Name, Nor fuffer fuch a Wretch to live. XI. Set to thy Seal that I am His; My Hope, my Crown, my Glery this, WOR FAREWEL to the WORLD. I. ORLD adieu, thou réal Cheat ! Oft have thy deceitful Charms Fill'd my Heart with fond Conceit, Foolish Hopes and falfe Alarms: Now I fee as clear as Day, II. Vain thy entertaining Sights, IH. Farewel Honour's empty Pride ¡ Thy own nice, uncertain Guft, IV. Foolish Vanity, farewel, More inconftant than the Wave! Where thy foothing Fancies dwell, Pureft Tempers they deprave: He, to whom I fly from Thee, JESUS CHRIST fhall fet me free. V. Never fhall my wand'ring Mind · VI. LORD, how happy is a Heart, 了 DISCIPLINE DISCIPLINE. I. Throw away thy Rod, O throw away thy Wrath! My gracious Saviour and my GoD, O take the gentle Path. II. Thou feeft my Hearts Defire Still does my longing Soul aspire III. Not ev'n a Word or Look But by the Model of thy Book, Thy facred Book alone. IV. Altho' I fail, I weep; Yet ftill with trembling Steps I creep ས. O then let Wrath remove: For Love will do the Deed! Love will the Conqueft gain; with Love VI. For Love is fwift of Foot, Love can refiftless Arrows fhoot, And hit the Mark from far. Who |