3 While my spirit within me is prest
With forrow, temptation, and fear;
Like JOHN I would flee to thy breast (ƒ),
And pour my complaints in thine ear:
How happy and favor'd was he,
Who could on thy bofom repofe !
Might this favor be granted to me,
I'd fmile at the rage of my foes.
I have heard of thy wonderful name,
How great and exalted thou art;
But ah! I confefs to my fhame,
It faintly impreffes my heart:
The beams of thy glory difplay,
AS PETER once faw thee appear;
That transported like him i may say,
"It is good for my foul to be here(g)."
5 What a forrow and weight didft thou feel,
When nail'd, for my fake, to the tree!
My heart fure is harder than steel,
To feel no more forrow for thee:
Oh let me with THOMAS defcry
The wounds in thy hands and thy fide; And have feelings like his, when I cry, My GoD and my Saviour has dy'd(b)."; 6 But if thou haft appointed me still To wrestle and suffer and fight; O make me refign'd to thy will, For all thine appointments are right: This mercy, at least, I intreat, That knowing how vile I have been, I with MARY may wait at thy feet (i) And weep o'er the pardon of fin.
(f) John xiii. 25.
(b) John xx. 28.
(g) Matt, xvii, 4
(i) Luke vii. 38.
XXVI. C Self-acquaintance.
DEAR LORD accept a finful heart,
Which of itself complains
And mourns with much and frequent smart
The evil it contains.
2 There fiery feeds of anger lurk,
Which often hurt my frame;
And wait but for the tempter's work,
To fan them to a flame.
3 Legality holds out a bribe
To purchase life from thee;
And discontent wonld fain prescribe
How thou fhalt deal with me.
While unbelief withstands thy grace,
And puts the mercy by ;
Prefumption with a brow of brass,
Says, "Give me, or I die."
5 How eager are my thoughts to roam
In queft of what they love!
But ah! when duty calls them home,
How heavily they move!
Oh, cleanse me in a Saviour's blood,
Transform me by thy pow'r,
And make me thy belov'd abode,
And let me rove no more.
XXVII. Bitter and sweet.
KINDLE, Saviour, in my heart
Hear, for mine I truft thou art,
And fure I would be thine:
If my foul has felt thy grace,
If to me thy name is known;
Why should trifles fill the place,
Due to thyfelf alone.
'Tis a ftrange myfterious life-
I live from day to day;
Light and darkness, peace and ftrife,
Bear an alternate sway:
When I think the battle won
I have to fight it o'er again;
When I fay I'm overthrown,
Relief I foon obtain.
Often at the mercy-feat
While calling on thy name;
Swarms of evil thoughts I meet,
Which fill my foul with fhame.
Agitated in my mind,
Like a feather in the air;
Can I thus a bleffing find?
My foul, can this be pray'r?
4 But when CHRIST, my LORD and Friend,
Is pleas'd to fhow his pow'r;
All at once my troubles end,
And I've a golden hour:
Then I fee his smiling face,
Feel the pledge of joys to come;
Often, LORD, repeat this grace
Till thou fhalt call me home.
XXVIII. C. Prayer for patience.
LORD, who haft fuffer'd all for me,
My peace and pardon to procure;
The lighter crofs I bear for thee,
Help me with patience to endure.
2 The ftorm of loud repining hufh,
I would in humble filence mourn';
Why should th' unburnt, tho' burning bufh,
Be angry as the crackling thorn?
3 Man fhould not faint át thy rebuke,
Like Joshua falling on his face (k),
When the curft thing that Achan took,
Brought Ifrael into just disgrace.
4 Perhaps fome golden wedge fupprefs'd,
Some fecret fin offends my GOD;
Perhaps that Babylonifh veft
Self-righteoufnefs, provokes the rod.
5 Ah! were I buffetted all day,
Mock'd, crown'd with thorns,and fpit upon;
I yet should have no right to fay,
My great diftrefs is mine alone."
6 Let me not angrily declare
No pain was ever fharp like mine;
Nor murmur at the crofs I bear;
But rather weep rememb'ring thine,
XXIX. C. Submiffion.
LORD, my best defire fulfill
And help me to refign,
Life, health, and comfort to thy will,
And make thy pleasure mine.
2 Why should i fhrink at thy 'command,
Whofe love forbids my fears?
Or tremble at the gracious hand That wipes away my tears? 3 No, let me rather freely yield What most I prize to thee; Who never haft a good withheld, Or wilt withhold from me. 4 Thy favor, all my journey thro', Thou art engag'd to grant; What elfe I want, or think I do, 'Tis better ftill to want.
5 Wisdom and mercy guide my way,
Shall I refift them both?
A poor blind creature of a day,
And crush'd before the moth!
6 But ah! my inward fpirit cries,
Still bind me to thy fway;
Elfe the next cloud that vails my fkies,
Drives all these thoughts away.
XXX. Why Should I complain?.
When my Saviour, my Shepherd is near,
How quickly my forrows depart!
New beauties around me appear,
New fpirits enliven my heart:
His prefence gives peace to my foul,
And Satan affaults me in vain ;
While my Shepherd his pow'r controls,
I think I no more fhall complain.
2 But, alas! what a change do I find,.
WhenmyShepherd withdraws from my fight
My fears all return to my mind,
My day is foon chang'd into night:
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