O Lord, the pilot's part perform, And guard and guide me through the storm; Defend me from each threatening ill, Control the waves,—say, "Peace! be still." Amidst the roaring of the sea My soul still hangs her hope on thee; Though tempest-toss'd and half a wreck, XXXIX. LOOKING UPWARDS IN A STORM. GOD of my life, to thee I call, When the great water-floods prevail23, 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; 23 Psalm lxix. 15. XL. Poor though I am, despised, forgot", For whom the Lord vouchsafes to plead. THE VALLEY OF THE SHADOW OF DEATH. My soul is sad, and much dismay'd; See, Lord, what legions of my foes, How like a smoky cloud they rise! I hate the thought that wrongs the Lord; Come then and chase the cruel host, Heal the deep wounds I have received! Nor let the powers of darkness boast, XLI. PEACE AFTER A STORM. WHEN darkness long has veil'd my mind, Then, my Redeemer, then I find The folly of my doubts and fears. 24 Psalm xl. 17. 25 Ephes. vi. 16. Oh! let me then at length be taught Unskilful, weak, and apt to slide. Thou, therefore, all the praise receive ; Be shame and self-abhorrence mine. THE Saviour hides his face; My spirit thirsts to prove Renew'd supplies of pardoning grace, And never-fading love. The favour'd souls who know What glories shine in him, Pant for his presence as the roe What trifles tease me now ! Of all the truths I hear, Yet let me (as I ought) No pleasure else is worth a thought, Though I am but a worm, The Lord will my desire perform, XLIII. SELF-ACQUAINTANCE. DEAR Lord! accept a sinful heart, And mourns, with much and frequent smart, There fiery seeds of anger lurk, Which often hurt my frame; And wait but for the tempter's work, To fan them to a flame. 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, XLIV. PRAYER FOR PATIENCE. LORD, who hast suffer'd all for me, I would in humble silence mourn; Man should not faint at thy rebuke, Like Joshua falling on his face, When the cursed thing that Achan took Brought Israel into just disgrace. Perhaps some golden wedge suppress'd, Some secret sin offends my God; Perhaps that Babylonish vest, Self-righteousness, provokes the rod. Ah! were I buffeted all day, Mock'd, crown'd with thorns, and spit upon, I yet should have no right to say, My great distress is mine alone. 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 fulfill, Life, health, and comfort to thy will, Why should I shrink at thy command, Or tremble at the gracious hand 26 Joshua, vii. 10, 11. |