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Though vine nor fig tree neither
Their wonted fruit shall bear, Though all the field should wither,
Nor flocks nor herds be there: Yet God the same abiding,
His praise shall tune my voice; For, while in him confiding,
I cannot but rejoice.
Lord, my soul with pleasure springs
When Jesus' name I hear; And when God the Spirit brings
The word of promise near:
Still delighted I perceive;
The joys thy precepts give.
Clothed in sanctity and grace,
How sweet it is to see
Or when they wait on thee.
What we owe to love divine; Till our bosoms grateful swell,
And eyes begin to shine.
Those the comforts I possess,
Which God shall still increase, All his ways are pleasantness,
And all his paths are peace. Nothing Jesus did or spoke,
Henceforth let me ever slight; For I love his easy yoke,
And find his burden light.
HONOUR and happiness unite
To make the Christian's name a praise; How fair the scene, how clear the light,
That fills the remnant of his days!
A kingly character he bears,
No change his priestly office knows; Unfading is the crown he wears,
His joys can never reach a close.
Adorned with glory from on high,
His robe is of the ethereal dye,
Inferior honours he disdains,
Nor stoops to take applause from earth; The King of kings himself maintains
The expenses of his heavenly birth.
The noblest creature seen below,
God gives him all he can bestow,
My soul is ravished at the thought!
Methinks from earth I see him rise!
And shout him welcome to the skies!
LII.—LIVELY HOPE AND GRACIOUS FEAR.
I Was a groveling creature once,
I wanted spirit to renounce
But God hath breathed upon a worm,
And sent me from above
The wings of joy and love.
With these to Pisgah's top I fly,
And there delighted stand,
The spacious promised land.
The Lord of all the vast domain
Has promised it to me,
As far as faith can see.
How glorious is my privilege!
To thee for help I call;
Oh save me, lest I fall!
Though much exalted in the Lord,
My strength is not my own;
And none shall cast me down.
LIII.—FOR THE POOR.
When Hagar found the bottle spent,
A message from the Lord was sent
Should not Elijah's cake and cruse
Convince us at this day,
Provisions by the way?
His saints and servants shall be fed,
The promise is secure;
"Their water shall be sure."
Repasts far richer they shall prove,
'Tis sweet to taste a Saviour's love,
To Jesus then your trouble bring,
Nor murmur at your lot;
You shall not be forgot.
LIV.—MY SOUL THIRSTETH FOR GOD.
I THIRST, but not as once I did,
Thy wounds, Emmanuel, all forbid
It was the sight of thy dear cross
First weaned my soul from earthly things; And taught me to esteem as dross
The mirth of fools and pomp of kings.
I want that grace that springs from thee,
And makes a wretched thorn like me
Dear fountain of delight unknown!
No longer sink below the brim;
A living and life-giving stream!
For sure of all the plants that share
The notice of thy Father's eye,
Or yields him meaner fruit than I.
LV.—LOVE CONSTRAINING TO OBEDIENCE.
No strength of nature can suffice
And what she has she misapplies,
How long beneath the law I lay
In bondage and distress;
But toiled without success.
Then, to abstain from outward sin
Now, if I feel its power within,
Then all my servile works were done
A righteousness to raise;
I freely choose his ways.
"What shall I do," was then the word,
"What shall I render to the Lord?"
To see the law by Christ fulfilled,
Changes a slave into a child,
LVI.-THE HEART HEALED AND CHANGED BY MERCY.
Sin enslaved me many years,
And led me bound and blind;
Came swarming o'er my mind.
"Will these sinful pleasures end?
And make the Lord my friend?"
Friends and ministers said much
The gospel to enforce;
I chose a legal course:
Scarce would show my face abroad,
A stranger still to God.
Truis afraid to trust his grace,
Long time did I rebel;
Down at his feet I fell:
And subdued me to his sway;
By a simple word he spoke,
LVII.-HATRED OF SIN.
Holy Lord God! I love thy truth,
Nor dare thy least commandment slight;
Yet pierced by sin, the serpent's tooth,
But though the poison lurks within,
Till death shall set me free from sin,
Had I a throne above the rest,
Where angels and archangels dwell,
One sin, unslain, within my breast,
Would make that heaven as dark as hell.
The prisoner sent to breathe fresh air,
Would mourn were he condemned to wear
But, oh! no foe invades the bliss,
When glory crowns the Christian's head;
One view of Jesus as he is
Will strike all sin for ever dead.
LVIII.—THE NEW CONVERT.
The new-born child of gospel grace,
Like some fair tree when summer's nigh,
Beneath Emmanuel's shining face
Lifts up his blooming branch on high.
No fears he feels, he sees no foes,
Nor has he learnt to whom he owes
But sin soon darts its cruel sting,
What seemed his own, a self-fed spring,
When Gideon armed his numerous host,
And said, "Lest Israel vainly boast,
Thus will he bring our spirits down,