My dear and kind defender Preserves me safely here,
From men of pomp and splendour, Who fill a child with fear.


My Spouse! in whose presence I live, Sole object of all my desires,
Who know'st what a flame I conceive,

And canst easily double its fires;
How pleasant is all that I meet!

From fear of adversity free,
I find even sorrow made sweet;Because 'tis assign'd me by thee.

Transported I see thee display

Thy riches and glory divine;
I have only my life to repay,

Take what I would gladly resign.
Thy will is the treasure I seek,

For thou art as faithful as strong;
There let me, obedient and meek,

Repose myself all the day long.

My spirit and faculties fail;

Oh finish what love has begun!
Destroy what is sinful and frail,

And dwell in the soul thou hast won! Vol. in. 7

Dear theme of my wonder and praise,
I cry, who is worthy as thou!

I can only be silent and gaze:
'Tis all that is left to me now.

Oh glory in which I am lost,

Too deep for the plummet of thought; On an ocean of deity toss'd,

I am swallow'd, I sink into nought. Yet, lost and absorb'd as I seem,

I chant to the praise of my King; And, though overwhelm'd by the theme,

Am happy whenever I sing.


All are indebted much to thee,

But I far more than all,
From many a deadly snare set free,

And raised from many a fall.
Overwhelm me, from above,
Daily, with thy boundless love.

What bonds of gratitude I feel No language can declare;
Beneath the oppressive weight I reel, 'Tis more than I can bear:
When shall I that blessing prove,
To return thee love for love?

Spirit of charity, dispense

Thy grace to every heart;
Expel all other spirits thence,

Drive self from every part;
Charity divine, draw nigh,
Break the chains in which we lie!

All selfish souls, whate'er they feign,

Have still a slavish lot;
They boast of liberty in vain,

Of love, and feel it not.
He whose bosom glows with thee,
He, and he alone, is free.

Oh blessedness, all bliss above, When thy pure fires prevail!
Love only teaches what is love;All other lessons fail:
We learn its name, but not its powers,
Experience only makes it ours.


My heart is easy, and my burden light; I smile, though sad, when thou art in my sight

The more my woes in secret I deplore, I taste thy goodness, and I love the more.

There, while a solemn stillness reigns around, Faith, love, and hope within my soul abound And, while the world suppose me lost in care, The joys of angels, unperceived, I share.

Thy creatures wrong thee, O thou sovereign Good!
Thou art not loved, because not understood;
This grieves me most, that vain pursuits beguile
Ungrateful men, regardless of thy smile.

Frail beauty and false honour are adored;
While Thee they scorn, and trifle with thy word;
Pass, unconcern'd, a Saviour's sorrows by;
And hunt their ruin with a zeal to die.


The fountain in its source
No drought of summer fears;The farther it pursues its course,
The nobler it appears.

But shallow cisterns yield

A scanty short supply;
The morning sees them amply fill'd,

At evening they are dry.


O Love, of pure and heavenly birth
0 simple truth, scarce known on earth!
Whom men resist with stubborn will;
And, more perverse and daring still,
Smother and quench, with reasonings vain,
While error and deception reign,

Whence comes it, that, your power the same
As His on high, from whence you came,
Ye rarely find a listening ear,
Or heart that makes you welcome here?—
Because ye bring reproach and pain,
Where'er ye visit, in your train.

The world is proud, and cannot bear
The scorn and calumny ye share;
The praise of men the mark they mean,
They fly the place where ye are seen;
Pure love, with scandal in the rear,
Suits not the vain; it costs too dear.

Then, let the price be what it may,
Though poor, I am prepared to pay;
Come shame, come sorrow; spite of tears,
Weakness, and heart-oppressing fears;
One soul, at least, shall not repine,
To give you room; come, reign in mine!


Thou hast no lightnings, O thou just!Or I their force should know;
And, if thou strike me into dust, My soul approves the blow.

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