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If on the sinner's outward frame"
God hath impress'd his mark of blame, And even our bodies shrink at touch of light,
Yet mercy hath not left us bare:
The very weeds we daily wear Are to Faith's eye a pledge of God's forgiving might.
And oh ! if yet one arrow more",
The sharpest of th’ Almighty's store, Tremble upon the string—a sinner's death
Art Thou not by to soothe and save,
To lay us gently in the grave, To close the weary eye and hush the parting breath ?
Therefore in sight of man bereft
The happy garden still was left,
the world to teach,
n I was afraid because I was naked. • The Lord God made coats of skins, and he clothed them. P Thou shalt surely die.
I do set my bow in the clouds, and it shall be for a token of a covenant between me and the earth. Gen, ix, 13.
SWEET Dove! the softest, steadiest plume
In all the sunbright sky, Brightening in ever-changeful bloom
As breezes change on high ;
Sweet Leaf! the pledge of peace and mirth,
Long sought, and lately won," Bless'd increase of reviving Earth,
When first it felt the Sun ;
Sweet Rainbow ! pride of summer days,
High set at Heaven's command, Though into drear and dusky haze
Thou melt on either hand :
Dear tokens of a pardoning God,
We hail ye, one and all,
Freed from their twelvemonths' thrall.
How joyful from th' imprisoning ark
On the green earth they spring ! Not blither, after showers, the Lark
Mounts up with glistening wing.
So home-bound sailors spring to shore,
Two oceans safely past ;
Plunge in th' empyreal vast.
What wins their first and fondest gaze
In all the blissful field,
Love face to face reveal’d:
Love imag'd in that cordial look
Our Lord in Eden bends
In time to die His friends.
And what most welcome and serene
Dawns on the Patriarch's eye, In all th' emerging hills so green,
In all the brightening sky ?
What but the gentle rainbow's gleam,
Soothing the wearied sight, That cannot bear the solar beam,
With soft undazzling light ?
Lord, if our fathers turn'd to thee
With such adoring gaze, Wondering frail man thy light should see
Without thy scorching blaze.
Where is our love, and where our hearts,
We who have seen thy Son, Have tried thy Spirit's winning arts,
And yet we are not won ?
The Son of God in radiance beam'd
Too bright for us to scan, But we may face the rays
that stream'd From the mild Son of Man.
There, parted into rainbow hues,
In sweet harmonious strife, We see celestial love diffuse
Its light o'er Jesus' life.
God, by His bow, vouchsafes to write
This truth in Heaven above ; As every lovely hue is Light,
So every grace is Love. .
When thou fastest, anoint thine head, and wash thy face, that thou appear not unto men to fast, but unto thy Father which is in secret. St. Matthew vi. 17.
“ YES—deep within and deeper yet
“ The rankling shaft of conscience hide, “Quick let the swelling eye forget
66 The tears that in the heart abide. “ Calm be the voice, the aspect bold,
“ No shuddering pass o'er lip or brow, “ For why should Innocence be told
“ The pangs that guilty spirits bow ?