And wilt Thou leave me, whom, when lost and blind,

Thou didst distinguish and vouchsafe to chuse,
Before Thy laws were written in my mind,

While yet the world had all my thoughts and views ?
Now leave me? when, enamoured of Thy laws,

I make Thy glory my supreme delight;
Now blot me from Thy register, and cause

A faithful soul to perish from Thy sight?
What can have caused the change which I deplore ?

Is it to prove me, if my heart be true ?
Permit me then, while prostrate I adore,

To draw, and place its picture in Thy view.
'Tis Thine without reserve, most simply Thine ;

So given to Thee, that it is not my own;
A willing captive of Thy grace divine ;

And loves, and seeks Thee, for Thyself alone.
Pain cannot move it, danger cannot scare;

Pleasure and wealth, in its esteem, are dust;
It loves Thee, even when least inclined to spare

Its tenderest feelings, and avows Thee just.
'Tis all Thine own; my spirit is so too,

An undivided offering at Thy shrine;
It seeks Thy glory with no double view,

Thy glory, with no secret bent to mine.
Love, holy Love ! and art Thou not severe,

To slight me, thus devoted and thus fixed ?
Mine is an everlasting ardour, clear

From all self-bias, generous and unmixed.
But I am silent, seeing what I see, -

And fear, with cause, that I am self-deceived ;
Not even my faith is from suspicion free,

And that I love seems not to be believed.
Live Thou, and reign for ever, glorious Lord !

My last, least offering, I present Thee now ;-
Renounce me, leave me, and be still adored !

Slay me, my God, and I applaud the blow.


IN vain ye woo me to your harmless joys,
Ye pleasant bowers, remote from strife and noise ;
Your shades, the witnesses of many a vow
Breathed forth in happier days, are irksome now;
Denied that smile 'twas once my heaven to see,
Such scenes, such pleasures, are all past with me.

In vain He leaves me, I shall love Him still ;
And though I mourn, not murmur at His will;
I have no cause-an object all divine
Might well grow weary of a soul like mine ;
Yet pity me, great God! forlorn, alone,
Heartless and hopeless, Life and Love all gone.


SLEEP at last has fled these eyes,

Nor do I regret his flight; More alert my spirits rise,

And my heart is free and light. · Nature silent all around,

Not a single witness near ; God as soon as sought is found,

And the Name of love burns clear. Interruption, all day long,

Checks the current of my joys ; Creatures press me with a throng,

And perplex me with their noise. Undisturbed I muse all night

On the first Eternal Fair ; Nothing there obstructs delight,

Love is renovated there. Life, with its perpetual stir,

Proves a foe to Love and me ;

Fresh entanglements occur,

Comes the night, and sets me free. Never more, sweet sleep, suspend

My enjoyments, always new : Leave me to possess my friend;

Other eyes and hearts subdue. Hush the world, that I may wake

To the taste of pure delights; Oh the pleasures I partake,

God the partner of my nights ! David, for the selfsame cause,

Night preferred to busy day : Hearts whom heavenly beauty draws

Wish the glaring sun away. Sleep, self-lovers, is for you ;

Souls, that love celestial know, Fairer scenes by night can view

Than the sun can ever show.


SEASON of my purest pleasure,

Sealer of observing eyes ! When, in larger, freer measure,

I can commune with the skies ; While, beneath thy shade extended,

Weary man forgets his woes, I, my daily trouble ended,

Find, in watching, my repose. Silence all around prevailing,

Nature hushed in slumber sweet, No rude noise mine ears assailing,

Now my God and I can meet :

| Universal nature slumbers,

And my soul partakes the calm, Breathes her ardour out in numbers,

Plaintive song or losty psalm. Now my passion, pure and holy,

Shines and burns without restraint, Which the day's fatigue and folly

Cause to languish, dim and faint : Charming hours of relaxation !

How I dread the ascending sun ! Surely idle conversation

Is an evil, matched by none.

Love this gentle admonition

Whispers soft within my breast ; “ Choice befits not thy condition,

“ Acquiescence suits thee best.”

Worldly prate and babble hurt me;

Unintelligible prove ;
Neither teach me nor divert me;

I have ears for none but Love.
Me they rude esteem, and foolish,

Hearing my absurd replies; I have neither art's fine polish

Nor the knowledge of the wise. Simple souls, and unpolluted

By conversing with the great,
Have a mind and taste ill suited

To their dignity and state ;
All their talking, reading, writing,

Are but talents misapplied ;
Infants' prattle I delight in,

Nothing human chuse beside. 'Tis the secret fear of sinning

Checks my tongue, or I should say, When I see the night beginning,

I am glad of parting day :

Henceforth, the repose and pleasure

Night affords me I resign; And Thy will shall be the measure,

Wisdom Infinite! of mine : Wishing is but inclination

Quarrelling with Thy decrees ; Wayward nature finds the occasion,

'Tis her folly and disease. Night, with its sublime enjoyments,

Now no longer will I. chuse; Nor the day, with its employments,

Irksome as they seem, refuse: Lessons of a God's inspiring

Neither time nor place impedes ; From our wishing and desiring

Our unhappiness proceeds.


Night! how I love thy silent shades,

My spirits they compose ;
The bliss of heaven my soul pervades,

In spite of all my woes.
While sleep instils her poppy dews

In every slumbering eye,
I watch, to meditate and muse,

In blest tranquillity.
And when I feel a God immense

Familiarly impart,
With every proof He can dispense,

His favour to my heart ;
My native meanness I lament,

Though most divinely filled With all the ineffable content

That Deity can yield. His purpose and His course he keeps ;

Treads all my reasonings down; Commands me out of nature's deeps,

And hides me in His own. When in the dust, its proper place,

Our pride of heart we lay,

'Tis then a deluge of His grace

Bears all our sins away. Thou whom I serve, and whose I am,

Whose influence from on high
Refines, and still refines my flame,

And makes my fetters fly ;
How wretched is the creature's state

Who thwarts Thy gracious power ; Crushed under sin's enormous weight,

Increasing every hour!
The night, when passed entire with Thee,

How luminous and clear ;
Then sleep has no delights for me,

Lest Thou shouldst disappear.
My Saviour ! occupy me still

In this secure recess ;
Let reason slumber if she will,

My joy shall not be less :
Let reason slumber out the night;

But if Thou deign to make
My soul the abode of truth and light,

Ah, keep my heart awake!


The Cross ! oh, ravishment and bliss,How grateful even its anguish is,

Its bitterness how sweet! There every sense, and all the mind, In all her faculties refined,

Tastes happiness complete.
Souls once enabled to disdain
Base sublunary joys, maintain

Their dignity secure ;
The fever of desire is passed,
And love has all its genuine taste,

Is delicate and pure.

LONG plunged in sorrow, I resign
My soul to that dear hand of Thine,

Without reserve or fear ;
That hand shall wipe my streaming eyes,
Or into smiles of glad surprise

Transform the falling tear.
My sole possession is Thy love;
In earth beneath, or heaven above,

I have no other store ;
And though with fervent suit I pray,
And importune Thee night and day,

I ask Thee nothing more.
My rapid hours pursue the course
Prescribed them by love's sweetest force;

And I Thy sovereign will,
Without a wish to escape my doom ;
Though still a sufferer from the womb,

And doomed to suffer still.
By Thy command, where'er I stray,
Sorrow attends me all my way,

A never-failing friend;
And if my sufferings may augment
Thy praise, behold me well content, -

Let sorrow still attend !
It costs me no regret, that she,
Who followed Christ, should follow me;

And though, where'er she goes, Thorns spring spontaneous at her feet, I love her, and extract a sweet

From all my bitter woes.
Adieu, ye vain delights of earth!
Insipid sports, and childish mirth,

I taste no sweets in you;
Unknown delights are in the Cross,
All joy beside to me is dross;

And Jesus thought so too.

Self-love no grace in sorrow sees,
Consults her own peculiar ease;

'Tis all the bliss she knows : But nobler aims true Love employ; In self-denial is her joy,

In suffering her repose. Sorrow and Love go side by side: Nor height nor depth can e'er divide

Their heaven-appointed bands ; Those dear associates still are one, Nor till the race of life is run Disjoin their wedded hands.

Jesus, avenger of our fall,
Thou faithful lover, above all

The Cross hast ever borne !
Oh tell me,-life is in Thy voice, -
How much afflictions were Thy choice,

And sloth and ease Thy scorn !
Thy choice and mine shall be the same,
Inspirer of that holy flame

Which must for ever blaze!
To take the Cross and follow Thee,
Where love and duty lead, shall be

My portion and my praise.

JOY IN MARTYRDOM. Sweet tenants of this grove,

These echoing shades return Who sing, without design,

Full many a note of ours, A song of artless love,

That wise ones cannot learn in unison with mine :

With all their boasted powers.

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SOURCE of Love, my brighter Sun,

Thou alone my comfort art; See, my race is almost run;

Hast Thou left this trembling heart? In my youth Thy charming eyes

Drew me from the ways of men ; Then I drank unmingled joys ;

Frown of Thine saw never then. Spouse of Christ was then my name ;

And devoted all to Thee, Strangely jealous, I became

Jealous of this self in me. Thee to love, and none beside,

Was my darling, sole employ ; While alternately I died,

Now of grief, and now of joy.

Through the dark and silent night

On Thy radiant smiles I dwelt ; And to see the dawning light

Was the keenest pain I felt. Thou my gracious teacher wert ;

And Thine eye, so close applied, While it watched thy pupil's heart,

Seemed to look at none beside. Conscious of no evil drift,

This, I cried, is love indeed !'Tis the Giver, not the gift,

Whence the joys I feel proceed. But soon humbled, and laid low,

Stript of all Thou hast conferred, Nothing left but sin and woe,

I perceived how I had erred.

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