See, from the ever-burning lake, Their fiery arrows reach the mark, I hate the thought that wrongs the Lord; Come, then, and chase the cruel host, XLI. PEACE AFTER A STORM WHEN darkness long has veiled my mind, And smiling day once more appears, Then, my Redeemer, then I find The folly of my doubts and fears. Straight I upbraid my wandering heart, Oh! let me then at length be taught Sweet truth, and easy to repeat! Unskilful, weak, and apt to slide. But, O my Lord, one look from thee Thou art as ready to forgive As I am ready to repine; Thou, therefore, all the praise receive; Be shame and self-abhorrence mine. XLII. MOURNING AND LONGING THE Saviour hides his face! Renewed supplies of pardoning grace, The favoured souls who know Pant for his presence as the roe What trifles tease me now! They swarm like summer flies; They cleave to everything I do, And swim before my eyes. How dull the Sabbath day Without the Sabbath's Lord! How toilsome then to sing and pray, And wait upon the word! Of all the truths I hear Yet let me (as I ought) No pleasure else is worth a thought, Though I am but a worm, The Lord will my desire perform, And grant me all my prayer. XLIII. SELF-ACQUAINTANCE DEAR Lord! accept a sinful heart And mourns, with much and frequent smart, There fiery seeds of anger lurk Legality holds out a bribe To purchase life from thee; While unbelief withstands thy grace, How eager are my thoughts to roam Oh, cleanse me in a Saviour's blood, XLIV. PRAYER FOR PATIENCE LORD, who hast suffered all for me, The storm of loud repining hush; I would in humble silence mourn; Why should the unburnt, though burning bush, Be angry as the crackling thorn? Man should not faint at thy rebuke, When the cursed thing that Achan took Perhaps some golden wedge suppressed, Ah! were I buffeted all day, Mocked, crowned with thorns, and spit upon, I yet should have no right to say My great distress is mine alone. Let me not angrily declare No pain was ever sharp like mine, Nor murmur at the cross I bear, But rather weep, remembering thine. XLV. SUBMISSION O LORD, my best desire fulfil, Life, health, and comfort to thy will, Why should I shrink at thy command, No, rather let me freely yield Thy favour, all my journey through, Wisdom and mercy guide my way, A poor blind creature of a day, But ah! my inward spirit cries, Else the next cloud that veils the skies XLVI. THE HAPPY CHANGE How blest thy creature is, O God, Through all the storms that veil the skies The Sun of Righteousness he eyes With healing on his wings. Struck by that light, the human heart, A barren soil no more, Sends the sweet smell of grace abroad, Where serpents lurked before. The soul, a dreary province once Of Satan's dark domain, Feels a new empire formed within, The glorious orb whose golden beams Since first, obedient to thy word, He started from the goal, Has cheered the nations with the joys His orient rays impart; But, Jesus, 'tis thy light alone Can shine upon the heart. XLVII. RETIREMENT FAR from the world, O Lord, I flee, |