333.

The ignorance of man.

1 BEHOLD Yon new-born infant grieved
With hunger, thirst, and pain;
That asks to have the wants relieved,
It knows not to explain.

2 Aloud the speechless suppliant cries,
And utters, as it can,

The woes that in its bosom rise,
And speak its nature-man.

3 That infant, whose advancing hour
Life's various sorrows try,

(Sad proof of sin's transmissive power!)
That infant, Lord, am I.

4 A childhood yet my thoughts confess,
Though long in years mature;
Unknowing whence I feel distress,
And where, or what, its cure.

5 Author of good, to Thee I turn :
Thy ever-wakeful eye

Alone can all my wants discern ;
Thy hand alone supply.

6.0 let thy fear within me dwell,
Thy love my footsteps guide;
That love shall vainer loves expel;
That fear, all fears beside.

7 And O, by error's force subdued,
Since oft my stubborn will,
Preposterous shuns the latent good,
And grasps the specious ill!

8 Not to my wish, but to my want,
Do Thou thy gifts apply:

Unask'd, what good Thou knowest grant;
What ill, though ask'd, deny!

334.

"As thy day, so shall thý strength be.” 1 AFFLICTED saint! to Christ draw near; Thy Saviour's gracious promise hear: His faithful word declares to thee,

That "as thy day, thy strength shall be." 2 Thy faith is weak, thy foes are strong; And if the conflict should be long, Thy Lord will make the tempter flee; For "as thy day, thy strength shall be." 3 Should persecution rage and flame, Still trust in thy Redeemer's name : In fiery trials thou shalt see,

That "as thy day, thy strength shall be." 4 When call'd by Him to bear the cross, Reproach, affliction, pain, or loss, Or deep distress, and poverty;

Still" as thy day, thy strength shall be." 5 When death at length appears in view, Christ's presence shall the fears subdue: He comes to set thy spirit free;

And

as thy day, thy strength shall be."

335.

The Christian more than conqueror.

I WHEN heaves with sighs my anxious breast,
In doubt if grace have made me free,
A still small voice yet whispers rest,-
And this is happiness for me!

2 When earth, and hell, and this vile heart,
To wound, destroy my soul, agree,
Through grace I act the conqueror's part,-
And this is happiness for me!

3 Wounded, perplex'd, hardly bestead,
While from temptation's force I flee,
God in the battle shields my head,—
And this is happiness for me!

4 When the cold damps of death bedew
This body wrung with agony,

Christ shall my fainting soul renew;
This will be happiness for me!

5 When to resist me, near the throne,
The Accuser face to face I see,
Christ shall assert me for his own ;-
Ah! then, what happiness for me!

336.

Hope in trouble.

1 WHEN musing sorrow weeps the past,
And mourns the present pain,
'Tis sweet to think of peace at last,
And feel that death is gain.

2 'Tis not that murmuring thoughts arise,
And dread a Father's will;
'Tis not that meek submission flies,
And would not suffer still:-

3 It is that heaven-born faith surveys
The path that leads to light,
And longs her eagle plumes to raise,
And lose herself in sight.

4 It is that hope with ardour glows,
To see Him face to face,

Whose dying love no language knows
Sufficient art to trace.

5 It is that harass'd conscience feels
The pangs of struggling sin;
And sees, though far, the hand that heals
And ends the strife within.

60 let me wing my hallowed flight
From earth-born wo and care,

And soar above these clouds of night,
My Saviour's bliss to share!

337.

The sorrowful Pilgrim.

1 THOU wretched man of sorrow,
Whose eyes all day o'erflow,
Indulge thy grief, and borrow
The night for farther wo:
In ceaseless lamentation,
Thy solemn moments spend,
And groan thy expectation,

That pain, with life, shall end.

2 My comforts all are blasted,
My Comforter is gone :
The joy which once I tasted,
O that I ne'er had known!
The gourd, which sooth'd my anguish,
Is wither'd o'er my head;

And, faint with grief, I languish,

To sink among the dead,

3 From all I suffer here,

(If God my sins forgive,)
From all I feel, and fear,

I there, redeem'd, shall live:
No serpent to deceive me,

No sin to stain my thought,
No loss, or wrong to grieve me,
Where all things are forgot.

4 No heart-distracting passion
Is there to break my peace,
But joy without cessation,
And love without excess:
Of paradise secure,

I shall no longer mourn;
The bliss is full, and sure,

The rose without a thorn.

5 In hope of that salvation,
I feel a moment's rest,
The calm of expectation
Has stole into my breast;

I weep at rescue near,
I struggle to be gone,
And joy is in the tear,
And God is in the groan.

338.

Solitary affliction.

1 GREAT Author of my being, Who seest mine inward care, The ills of thy decreeing Enable me to bear;

The justice of thy sentence
With meekest awe to own,
And spend in deep repentance,
My last, expiring groan.
2 The grief beyond expressing
To me, to me impart :
I ask this only blessing,-
An humble, broken heart:
The spirit of contrition

O might I now receive :
For all my soul's ambition
Is worthily to grieve!

3 Thou know'st my heart's desire Is only to be gone,

And silently retire,

And live, and die alone:
No sweet companion near,
To catch my latest sighs,
My dying words to hear,

Or close these weary eyes.

4 But O, Thou God of power,
Thou God of love, attend,
In that decisive hour,

When pain with life shall end!
Thou, only, bear my burden,
And help my last distress,
And give me back my pardon,
And bid me die in peace!