Peace by such means so dearly bought, What rebel could have hoped to see? Peace, by his injured Sovereign wrought, His Sovereign fasten'd to a tree. Now, Lord, thy feeble worm prepare! For strife with earth and hell begins; Confirm and gird me for the war, They hate the soul that hates his sins. Let them in horrid league agree! They may assault, they may distress; But cannot quench thy love to me, Nor rob me of the Lord my peace. VI. WISDOM. Prov. viii. 22—31. ERE God had built the mountains, In me, from everlasting, When, like a tent to dwell in, He wrought by weight and measure, Thus wisdom's words discover Of our unworthy race! And couldst thou be delighted Who, when we saw thee, slighted, And mystery divine! The voice that speaks in thunder, VII. VANITY OF THE WORLD. GOD gives his mercies to be spent ; Gold is a blessing only lent, Repaid by giving others food. The world's esteem is but a bribe, To buy their peace you sell your own; The slave of a vainglorious tribe, Who hate you while they make you known. The joy that vain amusements give, Oh! sad conclusion that it brings! The honey of a crowded hive, Defended by a thousand stings. 'Tis thus the world rewards the fools God knows the thousands who go down O fearful thought! be timely wise; VIII. O LORD, I WILL PRAISE THEE. I WILL praise thee every day Isaiah xii. 1. Here, in the fair gospel-field, Jesus is become at length Praise ye, then, his glorious name, Still his worth your praise exceeds, Raise again the joyful sound, God the Saviour dwells in thee! IX. THE CONTRITE HEART. Isaiah lvii. 15. THE Lord will happiness divine On contrite hearts bestow; I hear, but seem to hear in vain, If aught is felt, 'tis only pain, To find I cannot feel. I sometimes think myself inclined To love thee, if I could; My best desires are faint and few, Thy saints are comforted, I know, O make this heart rejoice or ache; X. THE FUTURE PEACE AND GLORY OF THE CHURCH. Isaiah ix. 15—20. HEAR what God the Lord hath spoken, "O my people, faint and few, Fair abodes I build for you; Thorns of heart-felt tribulation Shall no more perplex your ways: And your gates shall all be praise. |