Thither, my foul, with rapture foar,
There, in the land of praise adore:
The theme demands an angels lay;
Demands an everlafting day.
XXXVIII. Providence kind. L. M.
HRO' all the various fhifting scene
Of life's mistaken ill, or good;
Thy hand, O GOD, conducts unfeen,
The beautiful viciffitude.
Thou giveft with paternal care,
Howe'er unjustly we complain;
To each their neceffary fhare
Of joy and forrow, health and pain.
Truft we to youth, or friends, or pow'r.
Fix we on this terreftrial ball?
When moft fecure, the coming hour,
When lowest funk with grief and fhame,
Fill'd with afflictions' bitter cup,
Loft to relations, friends, and fame,
Thy pow'rful hand can raife us up.
Thy pow'rful confolations cheer,
Thy smiles erect th' afflicted head,
Thy hand can wipe away the tear
That fecret wets the widow'd bed.
All things on earth, and all in heav'n,
On thy eternal will depend;
And all for greater good were giv'n,
And all fhall in thy glory end.
This be my care, to all befide
Indifferent let my wifhes be:
"Paffion, be calm; and dumb be pride, "And fix, O Gop, my foul on thee."
XXXIX. Law and Gofpel. L. M.
URST be the man, for ever curft, "That doth one wilful fin commit; "Death, and damnation, for the first, "Without relief, and infinite."
Thus, Sinai roars; and round the earth,
Thunder, and Fire, and vengeance, flings;
But JESUS, thy dear gasping breath,
And Calvary, fay gentler things.
Pardon, and grace, and boundless love,
"Streaming along a SAVIOR's blood;
"And life, and joys, and crowns above,
"Obtain'd by an atoning GOD."
Hark! how he prays, (the charming found
Dwells on his dying lips) forgive;
And ev'ry groan, and gaping wound,
Cries, "Father, let the rebels live."
Go, you that reft upon the law,
And toil, and feek falvation there;
Look to the flame that Mofes faw,
And shrink, and tremble, and despair.
But I'll retire beneath the cross.
SAVIOR, at thy dear feet I'd lie;
And the keen fword that juftice draws,
Flaming, and red, fhall pass me by.
XL. Gospel Feaft. C. M.
N Sion, his moft holy mount,
GOD will a feaft prepare;
And Ifrael's fons, and Gentile lands,
Shall in the banquet share.
Marrow, and fatnefs, are the food,
His bounteous hand beftows;
Wine on the lees, and well refin'd,
In rich abundance flows.
See to the vileft of the vile,
A free acceptance giv'n;
See, rebels by adopting grace,
Sit with the heirs of heav'n.
The pain'd, the fick, the dying, now
To eafe and health reftord;
With eager appetites partake
The plenties of the board.
But O what draughts of blifs unknown,,
What dainties fhall be giv'n,
When, with the Myriads round the throne,
We join the feast of heav'n.
There joys immeafurably high,
Shall overflow the foul:
And springs of life that never dry,
In thousand channels roll.
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