4

How dull the Sabbath-day,

Without the Sabbath's Lord!
How toilsome then to sing and pray,

And wait upon the Word!

6

7

How few delight my taste!

glean a berry here and there,
But mourn the vintage past.

Yet let me (as I ought)

Still hope to be supplied;

No pleasure else is worth a thought,

Nor shall I be denied.

Though I am but a worm,

Unworthy of his care,

The Lord will my desire perform,
And grant me all my prayer.

XLII. SELF-ACQUAINTANCE.

1 DEAR Lord! accept a sinful heart, Which of itself complains,

And mourns, with much and frequent smart,

The evil it contains.

2 There fiery seeds 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 would fain prescribe
How thou shalt deal with me.

4 While Unbelief withstands thy grace,
And puts the mercy by ;
Presumption, with a brow of brass,
Says, "Give me, or I die."

5 How eager are my thoughts to roam
In quest of what they love!
But ah! when duty calls them home,
How heavily they move!

6 Oh, cleanse me in a Saviour's blood,
Transform me by thy power,

And make me thy beloved abode,
And let me roam no more.

XLIII. PRAYER FOR PATIENCE.

1 LORD, who hast suffer'd all for me,
My peace and pardon to procure,
The lighter cross I bear for thee,
Help me with patience to endure.

2 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?

3 Man should not faint at thy rebuke,
Like Joshua falling on his face, 1
When the curst thing that Achan took
Brought Israel into just disgrace.

4 Perhaps

some golden wedge suppress'd,
Some secret sin offends my God;
Perhaps that Babylonish vest,
Self-righteousness, provokes the rod.

5 Ah ! were I buffeted all day,

Mock'd, crown'd with thorns, and spit upon; I yet should have no right to say, My great distress is mine alone.

6 Let me not angrily declare

No pain was ever sharp like mine;
Nor murmur at the cross I bear,

But rather weep, remembering thine.

XLIV. SUBMISSION.

10 LORD, my best desire fulfil,

And help me to resign
Life, health, and comfort to thy will,

And make thy pleasure mine.

2 Why should I shrink at thy command,

Whose love forbids my fears?

Or tremble at the gracious hand

That wipes away my tears?

'Joshua vii. 10, 11.

3 No, let me rather freely yield
What most I prize to thee;
Who never hast a good withheld,
Or wilt withhold, from me.

4 Thy favour, all my journey through,
Thou art engaged to grant ;
What else I want, or think I do,
"Tis better still to want.

5 Wisdom and mercy guide my way—
Shall I resist them both?
A poor blind creature of a day,

And crush'd before the moth!

6 But ah! my inward spirit cries,
Still bind me to thy sway;

Else the next cloud that veils the skies,
Drives all these thoughts away.

XLV. THE HAPPY CHANGE.

1 How blest thy creature is, O God,
When, with a single eye,

He views the lustre of thy Word,
The dayspring from on high!

2 Through all the storms that veil the skies, And frown on earthly things,

The Sun of Righteousness he eyes,
With healing in his wings.

3 Struck by that light, the human heart,

A barren soil no more,

Sends the sweet smell of grace abroad,
Where serpents lurk'd before. 1

4 The soul a dreary province once
Of Satan's dark domain,

Feels a new empire form'd within,
And owns a heavenly reign.

5 The glorious orb, whose golden beams
The fruitful year control,
Since first, obedient to thy word,
He started from the goal,

6 Has cheer'd the nations with the joys
His orient rays impart ;
But, Jesus, 'tis thy light alone
Can shine upon the heart.

XLVI. RETIREMENT.

1 FAR from the world, O Lord, I flee,
From strife and tumult far;
From scenes where Satan wages still
His most successful war.

2 The calm retreat, the silent shade,
With prayer and praise agree;
And seem by thy sweet bounty made
For those who follow Thee.

Isaiah xxxv. 7.