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No longer then, O Syren! am I thine;
Lo! I renounce thy love, thy charms detest,
And drive thee, fell deceiver, from my breast.
I yield myself to him whose boundless love,
Snatch'd me from ruin, to be bless'd above:
His air I breathe, 'tis by his pow'r I live,
'Tis just that I myself to him should give:
He paid a mighty sum to set me free
From thy sad chains, yea, gave himself for me!
Now, by his love o'ercome, I lowly bow,
And with fix'd heart to him allegiance vow.
Thy joys are false, thy pleasures all impure,
But Jesus' holy peace shall still endure ;
When time decays, no end his pleasures know,
But ever rise, and ever overflow.
Then plead no more, my happy choice is this,
A crown of glory and eternal bliss.

air.
Hence! fatt'ring world, I bid adien

To all thy splendid toys;
A nobler prize I must pursue,

And seek sublimer joys.

Up to the place where Jesus reigns,

I raise my wishes high ;.
My soul sublunar bliss disdains,

And grasps eternity.

SYREN.

Since all in vain I plead, I'll plead no more, But on thy head my mighty vengeance pour ;

Dream pot of bliss, I'll spoil thy pleasing views,
Since all my kindest offers you

refuse ;
My smiles reject ; I'll with an awful frown
Bring all your high raised expectations down :
Not joy, but sad anxiety and woe
Shall still attend thee, while thou dwell'st below:
I'll summon all my pow'rs, and thou shalt see,
They're strong, to execute what I decree;
Reproach, with all her tongues shall blot thy name,
And spread calumnious falsehoods o'er thy fame;
Contempt and scorn, twin sisters, shall agree,
Where'er thou goest, to meet thy infamy :
Penurious want shall stare thee in the face,
And to the utmost thy boasted grace ;
For to foul rapine I'll thy substance give,
And thou despis’d, in indigence shall live,
And spend thy mournful days in sad distress,
Stranger to joy, stranger to happiness.
When for repose thou suest the shades of night,
Visions terrific shall thee sore affright;
In dreams I'll scare thee, still attend thy bed,
And pour my utmost vengeance on thy head;
I'll call my blood-hounds, they shall run thee down,
And thou shalt feel the weight of Syren's frown;
They hate thy king and thee : say, at a stake
Can'st thou in flames expire for Jesus' sake?

HENRY.

Think not thy feeble threats my soul alarms, No! I securely rest in Jesus' arms; He reigns above, exalted King of kings, And I, beneath the shadow of his wings, Shall dwell secure ; thou canst not work me woC,

My blessings from the rock of ages flow ;
As to the sea his awful mandate came;
Old ocean heard, and still obeys the same;
So, by his pow'r, thy malice he'll restrain,
And thou shalt boast, and threat, and rage in vain.
But should he thee permit thy pow'r to try,
And so prepare me for a seat on high ;
I'll to his will submit, I'll bear his cross,
And count my earthly all, but dung and dross ;
Low at his feet I'll lay it, and resign
To wisdom infinite and love divine ;
My feeble mind he will with strength endue,
There's all-sufficient grace to bring me thro';
Nor fire, nor water, earth, nor hell, shall part
His love from me, so faithful is his heart :
I'll trust him then, and let what will betide,
He will deliver, since for me he died.

So spake the youth, and at his gracious choice, Heav'n smil'd propitious. Syren, all enrag'd, And big with malice, further speech disdain'd, And hasted to revolve her dire intents, And, leagu'd with hell, her dark designs contrive; While Henry, fillid with holy confidence, Commits his all to his Redeemer's hands; And on he goes, rejoicing in his God. With God, his shield, he fears not hosts of foes With God his anchor, rides the storm secure. Peace flows within his breast, and grace

divine, Sways there her pow'rful sceptre, guides him right, While in the wilderness he journies on To that good land, the promis'd happy shore, There Jesus and his saints forever reign.

PART II.

Meditations and Letters,

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