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Where, in thy presence fully blest,
ThE billows swell, the winds are high,
O Lord, the pilot's part perform,
Amidst the roaring of the sea
Dangers of every shape and name
Though tempest-tossed and half a wreck,
XXXIX.-LOOKING UPWARDS IN A STORM.
God of my life, to thee I call,
Friend of the friendless and the faint,
Did ever mourner plead with thee,
That were a grief I could not bear,
Fair is the lot that's cast for me;
Let me not angrily declare
No pain was ever sharp like mine, Nor murmur at the cross I bear,
But rather weep, remembering thine.
O Lord, my best desire fulfil,
And help me to resign Life, health, and comfort to thy will,
And make thy pleasure mine.
Why should I shrink at thy command,
Or tremble at the gracious hand
No, rather let me freely yield
Who never hast a good withheld,
Thy favour, all my journey through,
What else I want, or think I do,
Wisdom and mercy guide my way,
Shall I resist them both?
A»d crushed before the moth!
Bstt *h! nr inward spirit cries,
fist :S? ae\; ciocd that veils the skies X'Vtws 4l^ these thoughts away.
The soul, a dreary province once
Of Satan's dark domain,
And owns a heavenly reign.
The glorious orb whose golden beams
The fruitful year control,
He started from the goal,
Has cheered the nations with the joys
His orient rays impart; But, Jesus, 'tis thy light alone
Can shine upon the heart.
Far from the world, O Lord, I flee,
From strife and tumult far;
His most successful war.
The calm retreat, the silent shade,
And seem, by thy sweet bounty made,
There if thy Spirit touch the soul,
And grace her mean abode, Oh, with what peace, and joy, and love,
She communes with her God!
There like the nightingale she pours
Her solitary lays;
Nor thirsts for human praise.
Author and guardian of my life,
And,—all harmonious names in one,—
What thanks I owe thee, and what love,
A boundless, endless store,
When time shall be no more.
XLVIII.—THE HIDDEN LIFE.
To tell the Saviour all my wants,
How pleasing is the task!
Beyond what I can ask.
My labouring spirit vainly seeks
To tell but half the joy,
And helps me to reply.
Nor were it wise, nor should I choose,
Such secrets to declare; Like precious wines their taste they lose,
Exposed to open air.
Bat this with holiness I proclaim,
Nor care if thousands hear, Sweet is the ointment of his name,
Not life is half so dear.
And can Voo frown, my former friends,
Atad Krtiae the soog thit tlras commends
TrasS oe, I draw use likeness true,
Ami not as tisor raints;
Fee saoh. have all his *nfn:>