As much the world's goodwill I share,
Its favours and applause,
As He whose blessed name I bear,
Hated without a cause,-
Despised, rejected, mocked by pride,
Betrayed, forsaken, crucified.
Why should I court my Master's foe?
Why should I fear its frown?
Why should I seek for rest below,
Or sigh for brief renown,
A pilgrim to a better land,
An heir of joy at God's right hand?
O WELCOME hiding place! O refuge meet
For fainting pilgrims, on this desert way!
O kind Conductor of these wandering feet,
Through snares and darkness, to the realms of day!
Soon may the Sun of Righteousness display
His healing beams, each gloomy cloud dispel!
While on the parting mist, in colours gay,
Truth's cheering bow of precious promise tell,
And Mercy's silver voice soft whisper, "All is well!"
TURN on the prudent ant thy heedless eyes;
Observe her labours, sluggard, and be wise.
No stern command, no monitory voice,
Prescribes her duties, or directs her choice;
Yet, timely provident, she hastes away
To snatch the blessings of the plenteous day:
When fruitful summer loads the teeming plain,
She crops the harvest, and she stores the grain.
How long shall sloth usurp thy useless hours,
Unnerve thy vigour, and enchain thy powers;
While artful shades thy downy couch enclose,
And soft solicitation courts repose ?
Amidst the drowsy charms of dull delight,
Year chases year with unremitted flight;
Till Want, now following, fraudulent and slow,
Shall spring to seize thee, like an ambushed foe.
THE GOOD SHEPHERD.
Lo! my Shepherd's hand divine!
Want shall never more be mine.
In a pasture fair and large
He shall feed His happy charge,
And my couch with tenderest care
'Midst the springing grass prepare.
When I faint with summer's heat,
He shall lead my weary feet
To the streams that, still and slow,
Through the verdant meadows flow;
Here my soul anew shall frame,
And, His mercy to proclaim,
When through devious paths I stray,
Teach my steps the better way.
Though the dreary vale I tread,
By the shades of death o'erspread,
There I walk from terror free,
While my every wish I see
By thy rod and staff supplied;
This my guard, and that my guide.
While my foes are gazing on,
Thou thy favouring care hast shown,
Thou my plenteous board hast spread,
Thou with oil refreshed my head.
Filled by thee, my cup o'erflows,
For thy love no limit knows.
Constant, to my latest end,
This my footsteps shall attend,
And shall bid thy hallowed dome
Yield me an eternal home.
SABBATH MORN.
THE festal morn, my God, is come,
That calls me to thy sacred dome,
Thy presence to adore:
My feet the summons shall attend,
With willing steps thy courts ascend,
And tread the hallowed floor.
With holy joy I hail the day
That warns my thirsting soul away,
To dwell among the blest;
For, lo! my great Redeemer's power
Unfolds the everlasting door,
And leads me to His rest.
Hither, from earth's remotest end,
Lo! the redeemed of God ascend,
Their tribute hither bring;
Here, crowned with everlasting joy,
In hymns of praise their tongues employ,
And hail the immortal King.
THE LAMB AND HIS COMPANY.
ON Zion's glorious summit stood
A numerous host, redeemed by blood;
They hymned their King in strains divine;
I heard the song, and strove to join.
Here all who suffered sword or flame
For truth, or Jesu's lovely Name,
Shout victory now, and hail the Lamb,
And bow before the great I Am.
While everlasting ages roll,
Eternal love shall feast their soul;
And scenes of bliss, for ever new,
Rise in succession to their view.
Here Mary and Manasseh view
The dying thief, and Abraham too;
With equal love their spirits flame,
The same their joy, their song the
O sweet employ, to sing and trace
The amazing heights and depths of grace,
And spend, from sin and sorrow free,
A blissful, vast eternity!
O what a sweet exalted song,
When every tribe and every tongue,
Redeemed by blood, with Christ appear,
And join in one full chorus there!
My soul anticipates the day,
Would stretch her wings and soar away
To aid the song, a palm to bear,
And bow, the chief of sinners, there.
"Tis pleasant to sing
The sweet praise of our King, As here in the valley we move; "Twill be pleasanter still,
When we stand on the hill,
And give thanks to our Saviour above.
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