The hand that gave it still supplies
The gracious light and heat;
His truths upon the nations rise,
They rise, but never set.

Let everlasting thanks be thine,
For such a bright display,

As makes a world of darkness shine
With beams of heavenly day.

My soul rejoices to pursue
The steps of him I love,
Till glory break upon my view
In brighter worlds above.

XXXI. ON THE DEATH OF A
MINISTER.

His master taken from his head,
Elisha saw him go;
And in desponding accents said,
"Ah, what must Israel do?"

But he forgot the Lord, who lifts
The beggar to the throne;
Nor knew that all Elijah's gifts
Would soon be made his own.

What! when a Paul has run his course,
Or when Apollos dies,

Is Israel left without resource?

And have we no supplies?

Yes, while the dear Redeemer lives,
We have a boundless store,
And shall be fed with what he gives,
Who lives for evermore.

XXXII. THE SHINING LIGHT.

My former hopes are fled,
My terror now begins;

I feel, alas! that I am dead
In trespasses and sins.

Ah, whither shall I fly?

I hear the thunder roar;

The law proclaims destruction nigh,
And vengeance at the door.

When I review my ways,
I dread impending doom:
But sure a friendly whisper says,
"Flee from the wrath to come."

C

I see, or think I see,

A glimmering from afar; A beam of day, that shines for me, To save me from despair. Forerunner of the sun,

It marks the pilgrim's way; I'll gaze upon it while I run, And watch the rising day.

XXXIII. THE WAITING SOUL.
BREATHE from the gentle south, O Lord,
And cheer me from the north;
Blow on the treasures of thy word,
And call the spices forth!

I wish, thou know'st, to be resigned,
And wait with patient hope;
But hope delayed fatigues the mind,
And drinks the spirit up.

Help me to reach the distant goal;
Confirm my feeble knee;
Pity the sickness of a soul

That faints for love of thee!

Cold as I feel this heart of mine,
Yet, since I feel it so,
It yields some hope of life divine
Within, however low:

I seem forsaken and alone,

I hear the lion roar;
And every door is shut but one,
And that is Mercy's door.

There, till the dear Deliverer come,
I'll wait with humble prayer;
And when he calls his exile home,
The Lord shall find him there.

XXXIV. SEEKING THE
BELOVED.

To those who know the Lord I speak ;
Is my Beloved near?

The Bridegroom of my soul I seek,
Oh! when will he appear?

Though once a man of grief and shame,
Yet now he fills a throne,

And bears the greatest, sweetest name That earth or heaven has known

D

Grace flies before, and love attends
His steps where'er he goes;
Though none can see him but his friends,
And they were once his foes.

He speaks;-obedient to his call
Our warm affections move:
Did he but shine alike on all,

Then all alike would love.

Then love in every heart would reign,
And war would cease to roar;
And cruel and bloodthirsty men
Would thirst for blood no more.

Such Jesus is, and such his grace;
Oh, may he shine on you!
And tell him, when you see his face,
I long to see him too.

XXXV. LIGHT SHINING OUT OF DARKNESS.

GOD moves in a mysterious way
His wonders to perform;
He plants his footsteps in the sea,
And rides upon the storm.

Deep in unfathomable mines
Of never-failing skill,

He treasures up his bright designs,
And works his sovereign will.

Ye fearful saints, fresh courage take,
The clouds ye so much dread
Are big with mercy, and shall break

In blessings on your head.

Judge not the Lord by feeble sense,

But trust him for his grace; Behind a frowning providence He hides a smiling face.

His purposes will ripen fast,

Unfolding every hour;

The bud may have a bitter taste,
But sweet will be the flower.

Blind unbelief is sure to err,

And scan his work in vain : God is his own interpreter, And He will make it plain.

XXXVI. WELCOME CROSS.

'Tis my happiness below
Not to live without the cross,
But the Saviour's power to know,
Sanctifying every loss:
Trials must and will befall;
But with humble faith to see
Love inscribed upon them all,
This is happiness to me.

God in Israel sows the seeds

Of affliction, pain, and toil;
These spring up and choke the weeds
Which would else o'erspread the soil :
Trials make the promise sweet,

Trials give new life to prayer;
Trials bring me to his feet,
Lay me low, and keep me there.

Did I meet no trials here,
No chastisement by the way,
Might I not with reason fear
I should prove a castaway?
Bastards may escape the rod,

Sunk in earthly vain delight:
But the true-born child of God
Must not, would not, if he might.

XXXVII. AFFLICTIONS SANC

TIFIED BY THE WORD.

OH, how I love thy holy word,
Thy gracious covenant, O Lord!
It guides me in the peaceful way;
I think upon it all the day.

What are the mines of shining wealth, The strength of youth, the bloom of health!

What are all joys compared with those
Thine everlasting Word bestows!

Long unafflicted, undismayed,
In pleasure's path secure I strayed;
Thou madest me feel thy chastening rod,
And straight I turned unto my God.

What though it pierced my fainting heart,
Iblessed thine hand that caused the smart;
It taught my tears awhile to flow,
But saved me from eternal woe.

Oh! hadst thou left me unchastised,
Thy precepts I had still despised;
And still the snare in secret laid
Had my unwary feet betrayed.

I love thee, therefore, O my God,
And breathe towards thy dear abode;
Where, in thy presence fully blest,
Thy chosen saints for ever rest.

XXXVIII. TEMPTATION.
THE billows swell, the winds are high,
Clouds overcast my wintry sky;
Out of the depths to thee I call,—
My fears are great, my strength is small.

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;
Thy constant love, thy faithful care,
Is all that saves me from despair.

Dangers of every shape and name
Attend the followers of the Lamb,
Who leave the world's deceitful shore,
And leave it to return no more.
Though tempest-tost and half a wreck,
My Saviour through the floods I seek;
Let neither winds nor stormy main
Force back my shattered bark again.
XXXIX. LOOKING UPWARDS
IN A STORM.

GOD of my life, to thee I call,
Afflicted at thy feet I fall;
When the great water-floods prevail,
Leave not my trembling heart to fail!

Friend of the friendless and the faint,
Where should I lodge my deep complaint?
Where but with thee, whose open door
Invites the helpless and the poor!
Did ever mourner plead with thee,
And thou refuse that mourner's plea?
Does not the word still fixed remain,
That none shall seek thy face in vain?

That were a grief I could not bear,
Didst thou not hear and answer prayer;
But a prayer-hearing, answering God
Supports me under every load.

Fair is the lot that's cast for me;
I have an Advocate with thee;
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.

XL. THE VALLEY OF THE

SHADOW OF DEATH.

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!

XLI. PEACE AFTER A STORM. 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,
I find myself a learner yet,

Unskilful, weak, and apt to slide.

But, O my Lord, one look from thee Subdues the disobedient will, Drives doubt and discontent away, And thy rebellious worm is still.

Thou art as ready to forgive

As I am ready to repine; Thou, therefore, all the praise receive; Be shame and self-abhorrence mine.

XLII. MOURNING AND LONGING.

THE Saviour hides his face! My spirit thirsts to prove Renewed supplies of pardoning grace, And never-fading love.

The favoured souls who know What glories shine in him, Pant for his presence as the roe Pants for the living stream.

What trifles tease me now! They swarm like summer flies; They cleave to everything I do, And swim before my eyes.

How dull the Sabbath day Without the Sabbath's Lord! How toilsome then to sing and pray, And wait upon the word!

Of all the truths I hear,
How few delight my taste!
I glean a berry here and there,
But mourn the vintage past.

Yet let me (as I ought)
Still hope to be supplied;

No pleasure else is worth a thought,
Nor shall I be denied.

Though I am but a worm, Unworthy of his care, The Lord will my desire perform, And grant me all my prayer.

XLIII. SELF-ACQUAINTANCE.

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,
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;
And Discontent would fain prescribe
How thou shalt deal with me.
While Unbelief withstands thy grace,
And puts the mercy by;
Presumption, with a brow of brass,
Says, "Give me, or I die!"

How eager are my thoughts to roam
In quest of what they love!
But ah! when Duty calls them home,
How heavily they move!

Oh, cleanse me in a Saviour's blood,
Transform me by thy power,
And make me thy beloved abode,
And let me roam no more.

XLIV. PRAYER FOR PATIENCE.

LORD, who hast suffered 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,

Be angry as the crackling thorn?

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 suppressed,
Some secret sin offends my God;
Perhaps that Babylonish vest,
Self-righteousness, provokes the rod.
Ah! were I buffeted all day,
Mocked, crowned 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.

XLV. SUBMISSION.

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.

Wisdom and mercy guide my way,
Shall I resist them both?
A poor blind creature of a day,
And crushed before the moth!

But ah! my inward spirit cries,

Still bind me to thy sway;

Else the next cloud that veils the skies Drives all these thoughts away.

XLVI. THE HAPPY CHANGE.

How blessed thy creature is, O God,
When, with a single eye,
He views the lustre of thy word,
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,
Where serpents lurked before.

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.

XLVII. RETIREMENT.

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.