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O that the day, the joyful day were come, Lo, he reveals his shining breast ;
When the first Adam from his ancient dust

I own those wounds, and I adore :
Crown'd with new honours shall revive, and see Lo, he prepares a royal feast,
Jesus his Son and Lord; while shouting saints Sweet fruit of the sharp pangs he bore !
Surround their King, and God's Eternal Son

Whence flow these favours so divine?
Shines in the midst, but with superior beams,

Lord! why so lavish of thy blood ? And like himself: then the Mysterious Word

Why for such earthly souls as mine,
Long hid behind the letter shall appear

This heavenly flesh, this sacred food ?
All spirit and life, and in the fullest light
Stand forth to public view; and there disclose

'Twas his own love that made him bleed, His Father's sacred works and wondrous ways :

That nail'd him to the cursed tree; Then wisdom, righteousness, and grace divine,

"Twas his own love this table spread Through all the infinite transactions past

For such unworthy worms as we. Inwrought and shining, shall with double blaze Then let us taste the Saviour's love; Strike our astonish'd eyes, and ever reign

Come, Faith, and feed upon the Lord : Admir'd and glorious in triumphant light.

With glad consent our lips shall move,
Death, and the tempter, and the man of sin,

And sweet Hosannas crown the board.
Now at the bar arraign'd, in judgment cast,
Shall vex the saints no more: but perfect love
And loudest praises perfect joy create,
While ever-circling years maintain the blissful state,


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Now let my faith grow strong, and rise,
And view my Lord in all his love;
Look back to hear his dying cries,
Then mount and see his throne above.
See where he languish'd on the cross ;
Beneath my sins he groan'd and died;
See where he sits to plead my cause
By his Almighty Father's side.
If I behold his bleeding heart,
There love in floods of sorrow reigns;
He triumphs o'er the killing smart,
And buys my pleasure with his pains.
Or if I climb th' eternal hills
Where the dear Conqueror sits enthron'd,
Still in his heart compassion dwells,
Near the memorials of his wound.
How shall a pardon'd rebel show
How much I love my dying God?
Lord, here I banish every foe,
I hate the sins that cost thy blood.
I hold no more commerce with Hell,
My dearest lusts shall all depart ;
But let thine image ever dwell
Stampt as a seal upon my heart.

I'm tir'd with visits, modes, and forms,
And Aatteries paid to fellow-worms;

Their conversation cloys;
Their vain amours, and empty stuff:
But I can ne'er enjoy enough

(joys Of thy best company, my Lord, thou life of all my

When he begins to tell his love,
Through every vein my passions move,

The captives of his tongue:
In midnight shades, on frosty ground,

I could attend the pleasing sound, (ness long
Nor should I feel December cold, nor think the dark-
There, while I hear my Saviour-God
Count o'er the sins (a heavy load)

He bore upon the tree,
Inward I blush with secret shame,

And weep, and love, and bless the name (for me.
That knew not guilt nor grief his own, but bare it all

Next he describes the thorns he wore,
And talks his bloody passion o'er,

Till I am drown'd in tears :
Yet with the sympathetic smart
There's a strange joy beats round my heart; (bears.
The cursed tree has blessings in't, my sweetest balm it

I hear the glorious sufferer tell,
How on his cross he vanquish'd Hell,

And all the powers beneath :
Transported and inspir'd, my tongue

Attempts his triumphs in a song;
“ How has the Serpent lost his sting, and where's thy

victory, Death!"
But when he shows his hands and heart,
With tho:e dear prints of dying smart,

He sets my soul on fire:
Not the beloved John could rest
With more delight upon that breast,

(desire. Nor Thomas pry into those wounds with more intense

Kindly lie opens me his ear,
And bids me pour my sorrow there,

And tell him all my pains:
Thus while I ease my burthen'd heart,
In every woe he bears a part,

(sustains. His arms embrace me, and his hand my drooping bead


IN IMITATION OF Isaiah LXIII. 1, 2, 3.
Wat heavenly Man, or lovely God,
Comes marching downward from the skies,
Array'd in garments rollid in blood,
With joy and pity in his eyes?
The Lord! the Saviour! yes, 'tis he;
I know him by the smiles he wears;
Dear glorious Man that died for me,
Drench'd deep in agonies and tears !

Fly from my thonghts, all human things,

Dear Lord, forgive my rash complaint, And sporting swains, and fighting kings,

And love me still And tales of wanton love :

Against my froward will; My soul disdains that little snare

Unveil thy beauties, though I faint.
The tangles of Amira's hair; [heart remove. Send the great herald from the sky,
Thine arms, my God, are sweeter bands, nor can my And at the trumpet's awful roar

This feeble state of things shall tly,
And pain and pleasure mix no more:

Then shall I gaze with strengthen'd sight, GRACE SHINING, AND NATURE FAINTING. On glories infinitely bright,

My heart shall all be love, my Jesus all delight.
SOL. SONG I. 3. AND 11. 5. AND VI. 5.
Tell me, fairest of thy kind,

Tell me, Shepherd, all divine,
Where this fainting head reclin'd
May relieve such cares as mine:

Shepherd, lead me to thy grove;
If burning noon infect the sky,

Of all the joys we mortals know, The sickening sheep to covert fly,

Jesus, thy love exceeds the rest; The sheep not half so faint as I,

Love the best blessing here below, Thus overcome with love.

And nearest image of the blest. Say, thou dear Sovereign of my breast,

Sweet are my thoughts, and soft my cares, Where dost thou lead thy flock to rest ?

When the celestial flame I feel; Why should I appear like one

In all my hopes, and all my fears, Wild and wandering all alone,

There's something kind and pleasing still. Unbeloved and unknown ?

While I am held in his embrace, O my Great Redeemer, say,

There's not a thought attempts to rove; Shall I turn my feet astray?

Each smile he wears upon his face Will Jesus bear to see me rove,

Fixes, and charms, and fires my love. To ste me seek another love?

He speaks, and straight immortal joys Ne'er had I known his dearest name,

Run through my ears, and reach my heart; Ne'er had I felt this inward flame,

My soul all melts at that dear voice,
Had put his heart-strings first begun the tender sound: And pleasure shoots through every part.
Nor can I bear the thought, that he

If he withdraw a moment's space,
Should leave the sky,
Should bleed and die,

He leaves a sacred pledge behind;
Should love a wretch so vile as me

Here in this breast his image stays, Without returns of passion for his dying wound.

The grief and comfort of my mind. His eyes are glory mixt with grace;

While of his absence I complain, In his delightful awful face

And long and weep as lovers do,

There's a strange pleasure in the pain,
Sits majesty and gentleness.

And tears have their own sweetness too.
So tender is my bleeding heart
That with a frown he kills;

When round his courts by day I rove,
His absence is perpetual smart;

Or ask the watchmen of the night Nor is my soul refin'd enough

For some kind tidings of my love, To bear the beaming of his love,

His very name creates delight. And feel his warmer smiles.

Jesus, my God; yet rather come; Where shall I rest this drooping head?

Mine eyes would dwell upon thy face; I love, I love the sun, and yet I want the shade.

'Tis best to see my Lord at home, My sinking spirits feebly strive

And feel the presence of his grace.
Tendure the ecstasy ;
Beneath these rays I cannot live,

And yet without them die.
None know the pleasure and the pain
That all my inward powers sustain (again.

But such as feel a Saviour's love, and love the God

Come, lead me to some lofty shade Oh, why should Beauty heavenly bright

Where turtles moan their loves; Stoop to charm a mortal's sight,

Tall shadows were for lovers made,
And torture with the sweet excess of light?

And grief becomes the groves.
Our hearts, alas ! how frail their make!
With their own weight of joy they break,

'Tis no mean beauty of the ground Oh, why is Love so strong, and Nature's self so weak ? That has enslav'd mine eyes; Tum, turn away thine eyes,

I faint beneath a nobler wound,

Nor love below the skies.
Ascend the azure hills, and shine
Among the happy tenants of the skies,

Jesus, the spring of all that's bright,
They can sustain a vision so divine.

The everlasting Fair, O turn thy lovely glories from me,

Heaven's ornament, and Heaven's delight; The joys are too intense, the glories overcome me. Is my eternal care,

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But, ah! how far above this grave

Does the bright charmer dwell? Absence, thou keenest woiind to love,

That sharpest pain I feel. Pensive I climb the sacred hills,

And near him vent my woes; Yet his sweet face he still conceals,

Yet still my passion grows. I murmur to the hollow vale,

I tell the rocks my flame, And bless the Echo in her cell

That best repeats his name. My passion breathes perpetual sighs,

Till pitying winds shall hear, And gently bear them up the skies,

And gently wound his ear.

Let life immortal seize my clay ;

Let love refine my blood;
Her flames can bear my soul away;

Can bring me near my God.
Swift I ascend the heavenly place,

And hasten to my home;
I leap to meet thy kind embrace,

I come, O Lord, I come.
Sink down, ye separating hills,

Let Guilt and Death remove : 'Tis Love that drives my chariot-wheels,

And Death must yield to Love.





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Jesus, I love. Come, dearest name,
Come and possess this heart of mine;
I love, though 'tis a fainter flame,
And infinitely less than thine,
0! if my Lord would leave the skies
Drest in the rays of mildest grace,
My soul should hasten to my eyes
To meet the pleasures of his face.
How would I feast on all his charms,
Then round his lovely feet entwine !
Worship and love, in all their forms,
Should honour beauty so divine.
In vain the tempter's flattering tongue,
The world in vain shall bid me move,
In vain; for I should gaze so long
Till I were all transform'd to love.
Then mighty God, I'd sing and say,
“ What empty names are crowns and kings!
Amongst them give these worlds away,
These little despicable things."
I would not ask to climb the sky,
Nor envy angels their abode;
I have a Heaven as bright and high
In the blest vision of my God.

Lord, 'tis an infinite delight

To see thy holy face,
To dwell whole ages in thy sight,

And feel thy vital rays.
This Gabriel knows; and sings thy name

With rapture on his tongue;
Moses the saint enjoys the same,

And Heaven repeats the song.
While the bright nation sounds thy praise

From each eternal hill,
Sweet odours of exhaling grace

The happy region fill.
Thy love, a sea without a shore,

Spreads life and joy abroad :
O'tis a Heaven worth dying for

To see a smiling God!
Show me thy face, and I'll away

From all inferior things;
Speak, Lord, and here I quit my clay,

And stretch my airy wings.
Sweet was the journey to the sky,

The wondrous prophet tried ; “ Climb up the mount,” says God," and die :"

The prophet climb'd, and died.
Softly bis fainting head he lay

Upon his Maker's breast;
His Maker kiss'd his soul away,

And laid his flesh to rest.
In God's own arms he left the breath

That God's own spirit gave;
His was the noblest road to death,

And his the sweetest grave.



'Tis pure delight, without alloy,

Jesus, to hear thy name;
My spirit leaps with inward joy,

I feel the sacred flame.
My passions hold a pleasing reign,

While Love inspires my breast, Love, the divinest of the train,

The sovereign of the rest. This is the grace must live and sing,

When faith and fear shall cease, Must sound from every joyful string Through the sweet groves of bliss.


O'Twas a mournful parting day!

Farewell, my Spouse, he said; (How tedious, Lord, is thy delay !

How long my Love hath staid !) Farewell! At once he left the ground,

And climb'd his Father's sky; Lord, I would tempt thy chariot down,

Or leap to thee on high.

Round the creation wild I rove,

Then why my heart sunk down so low Ánd search the globe in vain ;

Why do my eyes dissolve and flow, There's nothing here that's worth my love

And hopeless nature mourn? Till thou return again.

Review, my soul, those pleasing days, My passious fly to seek their King,

Read his unalterable grace And send their groans abroad;

Through the displeasure of his face,

And wait a kind return.
They beat the air with heavy wing,
And mourn an absent God :

A Father's love may raise a frown

To chide the child, or prove the Son, With inward pain my heart-strings sound,

But love will ne'er destroy; My soul dissolves away:

The hour of darkness is but short, Dear Sovereign, whirl the seasons round,

Faith be thy life, and patience thy support, And bring the promis'd day.

The morning brings the joy.



When shall thy lovely face be seen? YET, gracious God,

When shall our eyes behold our God? Yet will I seek thy smiling face;

What lengths of distance lie between!
What though a short eclipse his beauties shrowd

And hills of guilt, a heavy load!
And bar the influence of his rays,
Tis but a morning vapour, or a summer cloud:

Our months are ages of delay,
He is my Sun though he refuse to shine :

And slowly every minute wears : Though for a moment he depart

Fly, winged Time, and roll away I dwell for ever on his heart,

These tedious rounds of sluggish years. Forever he on mine.

Ye heavenly gates, loose all your chains, Early before the light arise

Let the eternal pillars bow; l'il spring a thought away to God;

Blest Saviour, cleave the starry plains,
The passion of my beart and eyes

And make the crystal mountains flow.
Shall shout a thousand groans and sighs,
A thousand glances str the skies,

Hark, how thy saints unite their cries,

And pray and wait the general doom ; The floor of his abode.

Come, Thou, the Soul of all our joys, Dear Sovereign, hear thy servant pray,

Thou, the Desire of Nations, come! Bend the blue Heavens, Eternal King,

Put thy bright robes of triumph on, Downward thy cheerful graces bring;

And bless our eyes, and bless our ears, Or shall I breathe in vain and pant my hours away? Thou absent Love, thou dear Unknown, Break, glorious Brightness, through the gloomy veil, Thou Fairest of ten thousand Fairs ! Look how the armies of despair

Our heart-strings groan with deep complaint ; Aloft their sooty banners rear

Our fesh lies panting, Lord, for thee,
Round my poor captive soul, and dare
Pronounce me prisoner of Hell.

And every limb, and every joint,
But thou my Sun, and thou my Shield,

Stretches for immortality. Wilt sare me in the bloody field;

Our spirits shake their eager wings, Break, glurious Brightness, shoot one glimmering ray, And burn to meet thy flying throne; One glance of thine creates a day,

We rise away from mortal things And drives the troops of Hell away.

T attend thy shining chariot down.

Now let our cheerful eyes survey Happy the times; but ah! the times are gone

The blazing earth and melting hills, When wondrous power and radiant grace

And smile to see the lightnings play
Round the tall arches of the temple shone,

And flash along before thy wheels.
And mingled their victorious rays:
Sin, with all its ghastly train,

O for a shout of violent joys
Fled to the deeps of Death again,

To join the trumpet's thundering sound ! And smiling triumph sat on every face:

The angel herald shakes the skies, Our spirits raptur'd with the sight

Awakes the graves, and tears the ground. Were all devotion, all delight,

Ye slumbering saints, a heavenly host And loud Hosannas sounded the Redeemer's praise. Stands waiting at your gaping tombs ; Here could I say,

Let every sacred sleeping dust (And point the place whereon I stood)

Leap into life, for Jesus comes.
Here I enjoy'd a visit half the day
From my descending God:

Jesus, the God of might and love,
I was regal'd with heavenly fare,

New-moulds our limbs of cumbrous clay, With fruit and manna from abore ;

Quick as seraphic flames we move, Divinely sweet the blessings were

Active, and young, and fair as they.
While mine Emannel was there :

Our airy feet with unknown flight,
And o'er the head

Swift as the motions of desire,
The conqueror spread

Run up the hills of heavenly light,
The banner of his love,

And leave the weltering world in fire.


And now he's gone, (O mighty woe!) BEWAILING MY OWN INCONSTANCY. Gone from my soul, and hides his love!

Curse on you, sins, that griev'd him so, I love the Lord; but ah! how far

Ye sins, that forc'd him to remove! My thoughts from the dear object are !

Break, break, my heart ; complain, my tongue : This wanton heart how wide it roves !

Hither, my friends, your sorrows bring : And fancy meets a thousand loves.

Angels, assist my doleful song, If my soul burn to see my God,

If you have e'er a mourning string. I tread the courts of his abode;

But, ah! your joys are ever high, But troops of rivals throng the place,

Ever his lovely face you see ; And tempt me off before his face.

While my poor spirits pant and die, Would I enjoy my Lord alone,

And groan, for thee, my God, for thee. I bid my passions all be gone,

Yet let my hope look through my tears, All but my love ; and charge my will

And spy afar his rolling throne; To bar the door and guard it still.

His chariot through the cleaving spheres But cares, or trifles, make, or find,

Shall bring the bright Beloved down. Still new avenues to the mind,

Swift as a roe flies o’er the hills, Till I with grief and wonder see

My soul springs out to meet him high; Huge crowds betwixt the Lord and me.

Then the fair Conqueror turns his wheels, Oft I am told the Muse will prove

And climbs the mansions of the sky,
A friend to piety and love;

There smiling joy for ever reigns,
Straight I begin some sacred song,
And take my Saviour on my tongue.

No more the turtle leaves the dove;

Farewell to jealousies, and pains,
Strangely I lose his lovely face,

And all the ills of absent love!
To hold the empty sounds in chase ;
At best the chimes divide my heart,
And the Muse shares the larger part.
False confident! and falser breast !

Fickle, and fond of every guest :

Each airy image as it flies
Here finds admittance through my eyes.

ETERNAL Power! whose high abode
This foolish heart can leave her God,

Becomes the grandeur of a God; And shadows tempt her thoughts abroad :

Infinite length beyond the bounds How shall I fix this wandering mind,

Where stars revolve their little rounds : Or throw my fetters on the wind ?

The lowest step above thy seat Look gently down, Almighty Grace,

Rises too high for Gabriel's feet; Prison me round in thine embrace ;

In vain the tall archangel tries Pity the soul that would be thine,

To reach thine height with wondering eyes. And let thy power my love confine.

Thy dazzling beauties whilst he sings, Say, when shall the bright moment be

He hides his face behind his wings; That I shall live alone for thee,

And ranks of shining thrones around My heart no foreign lords adore,

Fall worshipping, and spread the ground.
And the wild Muse prove false no more ?

Lord, what shall earth and ashes do!
We would adore our Maker too;
From sin and dust to thee we cry,
The Great, the Holy, and the High !

Earth from afar has heard the fame,

And worms have learnt to lisp thy name;
Happy the hours, the golden days,

But 0, the glories of thy mind When I could call my Jesus mine,

Leave all our soaring thoughts behind. And sit and view his smiling face,

God is in Heaven, and men below; And melt in pleasures all-divine.

Be short, our tunes; our words, be few; Near to my heart, within my arms

A sacred reverence checks our songs,
He lay, till sin defild my breast,

And praise sits silent on our tongues.
Till broken vows, and earthly charms,
Tir'd and provok'd my heavenly guest.

Tibi silet laus, O Deus. Psal. lxv, 1.

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