They whom the world caresses most
Have no such privilege to boast.
Poor though I am, despised, forgot,
Yet God, my God, forgets me not :
And he is safe, and must succeed,
For whom the Lord vouchsafes to plead.


My soul is sad, and much dismayed ;

See, Lord, what legions of my foes,
With fierce Apollyon at their head,

My heavenly pilgrimage oppose !
See, from the ever burning lake,

How like a smoky cloud they rise !
With horrid blasts my soul they shake,

With storms of blasphemies and lies.
Their fiery arrows reach the mark,

My throbbing heart with anguish tear;
Each lights upon a kindred spark,

And finds abundant fuel there,
I hate the thought that wrongs the Lord ;

Oh! I would drive it from my breast,
With thy own sharp two-edged sword,

Far as the east is from the west.
Come then and chase the cruel host,

Heal the deep wounds I have received !
Nor let the powers of darkness boast,

That I am foiled, and Thou art grieved !

When darkness long has veiled my mind,

And smiling day once more appears,
Then, my Redeemer, then I find

The folly of my doubts and fears.
Straight I upbraid my wandering heart,

And blush that I should ever be
Thus prone to act so base a part,

Or harbour one hard thought of Thee !
Oh! let me then at length be taught

What I am still so slow to learn,
That God is Love, and changes not,

Nor knows the shadow of a turn.
Sweet truth, and easy to repeat !

But when my faith is sharply tried,

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,

Whose love forbids my fears? Or tremble at the gracious hand

That wipes away my tears? No, rather let me freely yield

What most I prize to thee;
Who never hast a good withheld,

Or wilt withhold, from me.
Thy favour, all my journey through,

Thou art engaged to grant ;
What else I want, or think I do,

Tis better still to want.
Wisiom and mercy guide my way,

Shall I resist them both ?
A poor blind creature of a day,

And crushed before the moth!
Put ch! my inward spirit cries,

Se band me to thy sway;
Be de next cloud that reils the skies

Prive the these thoughts away.

XY-THE HAPPY CHANGE Huw he greater S O God,

b e ser av wert,

ung mom ja lugu: og ble ens at vei de skies A: Away CMS ViVERSESSES Hal in swim ***

De human her atst

thre Nuk e ka wae sinat.

The soul, a dreary province once

Of Satan's dark domain,
Feels a new empire formed within,

And owns a heavenly reign.
The glorious orb whose golden beams

The fruitful year control,
Since first obedient to thy word,

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 ;
From scenes where Satan wages still

His most successful war.
The calm retreat, the silent shade,

With prayer and praise agree;
And seem, by thy sweet bounty made,

For those who follow thee.
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 asks a witness of her song,

Nor thirsts for human praise.
Author and guardian of my life,

Sweet source of light divine,
And, -all harmonious names in one,-

My Saviour ! thou art mine!
What thanks I owe thee, and what love,

A boundless, endless store,
Shall echo through the realms above,

When time shall be no more.

To tell the Saviour all my wants,

How pleasing is the task !
Nor less to praise him when he grants

Beyond what I can ask.

Jy labouring spirit vainly seeks

To tell but half the joy,
With how much tenderness he speaks,

And helps me to reply.
Yor 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 boliness I proclaim,

Nor care if thousands hear,
Sweer is the ointment of his name,

Not life is half so dear.
And can roa frow, my former friends,

120 knew what once I was And bame the song that has commends

The Man wa are the cross? Trust me, I the eness true,

Suck hereer war be give to you,

Fer bare an bis sains


SOMETIMES 3 Sherprises

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LORD, my soul with pleasure springs

When Jesus' name I hear ;
And when God the Spirit brings

The word of promise near :
Beauties too, in holiness,

Still delighted I perceive ;
Nor have words that can express

The joys thy precepts give.
Clothed in sanctity and grace,

How sweet it is to see
Those who love thee as they pass,

Or when they wait on thee.
Pleasant too to sit and tell

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.

LI.-THE CHRISTIAN. 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,

Salvation shines upon his face ;

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