What trifles tease me now! They swarm like summer flies, How dull the Sabbath day, How toilsome then to sing and pray, Of all the truths I hear, Yet let me (as I ought) Still hope to be supplied; No pleasure else is worth a thought, Though I am but a worm, Unworthy of his care, The Lord will my desire perform, DEAR Lord! accept a sinful heart, Which of itself complains, And mourns with much and frequent smart, The evil it contains. There fiery seeds of anger lurk, Legality holds out a bribe To purchase life from thee; While unbelief withstands thy grace, How eager are my thoughts to roam Oh, cleanse me in a Saviour's blood, And make me thy beloved abode, XLIII. PRAYER FOR PATIENCE. LORD, who hast suffer'd all for me, My peace and pardon to procure, The lighter cross I bear for thee, Help me with patience to endure. The storm of loud repining hush, I would in humble silence mourn; Why should the unburnt, though burning bush Man should not faint at thy rebuke, Perhaps some golden wedge suppress'd, Ah! were I buffeted all day, Mock'd, crown'd with thorns, and spit upon; I yet should have no right to say, 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, 1 Joshua vii. 10, 11. Why should I shrink at thy command, Or tremble at the gracious hand No, rather let me freely yield Thy favour, all my journey through, Wisdom and mercy guide my way, Shall I resist them both? A poor blind creature of a day, But ah! my inward spirit cries, Else the next cloud that veils the skies, XLV. THE HAPPY CHANGE. How blest thy creature is, O God, The dayspring from on high! Through all the storms that veil the skies, And frown on earthly things, The Sun of Righteousness he eyes, With healing on his wings. Struck by that light, the human heart, A barren soil no more, Sends the sweet smell of grace abroad, The soul a dreary province once The glorious orb, whose golden beams Has cheer'd the nations with the joys His orient rays impart; Can shine upon the heart. FAR from the world, O Lord, I flee, From scenes where Satan wages still 1 Isaiah xxxv. 7. |