Some of these are here reduced to blank verse; yet every sentiment, and the far greater part of the language, are her own.

Devotedness to God in Easy circumstances.

If I be not satisfied in THEE

Oh God! then let me be unsatisfied.

Pass now, let me beseech thee, the decree,

And let it be irrevocable too.

Swear by Thyself, that nothing else shall fill

My longing heart, None do I want but THEE:
And if thou satisfy me not, I would

Restless and easeless ever more remain.

But oh thou wilt, for thou hast kindly bid

Me open wide my mouth, and thou wilt fill it.

Oh Power divine! Come, come with the command,

And lo, 'tis opened: opened now so wide,

That nothing else can fill it but Thyself;

And thou wilt fill it: yea, though promise there
Were none: such is thy mighty love, and large
Beneficence, from whence the promise springs,
And which has wrought in me this sacred thirst,
It would, I know, incline thee to impart.
When shall I come; when before God appear!
Let not my importunity offend thee:
"Tis not of providence that I complain.
All I can ask, or heart can wish, I have:
Friends and relations full of tenderness
And love, kind as creation can afford:
Thy providence supplies my every want,
Mercy and goodness me surround; I'm full;
With none on earth I'd circumstances change.
Miss I their wealth? I also miss their cares.
"Tis love, I trust, that prompts my discontent;
The love of God. I love to see his face:
Oh when shall I behold it free from sin.

My God, my Father, my almighty Friend,
My Saviour, and my everlasting hope;
When shall I thee behold! Oh the delight,
The unbounded joy to see the God I love!
Thou, thou rejoicest in Thyself alone;"

Though infinite, with infinite delight;

Then how much more, I, a worm, be filled
By THEE, with ravishing transporting joy;

Though I could know no more of thee, than here
Is knowable; yet still I'd be content

To fight and struggle in this field of battle.
But oh to see the God I wish! The God,

A glance of whom has swallowed up my soul,
In longings to behold with open face!

How short, how low are all my thoughts of him !
Might I behold him like the blest above;
Though 'twere but for a moment, oh how sweet!
Yet this would fix me there eternally;

For who on earth can see thy face and live.

Then let me die, that I may thee behold;

Freely I'd give my life away for this,

The vision and fruition of my God.

Come then, Lord Jesus; come, oh quickly come;
Pity my thirsty soul, and break the chain!

Devotedness to God under Dark and threatening Providences.

Written at a time when, she says, her dear parents were greatly afflicted, and she herself exposed to want, contempt, and evil reports, and without any prospect of even a subsistence, but from the unseen hand of providence.

With griefs and cares beset on every side,
The Lord hath touched me in a tender part.
All ways seem hedged up: yet I sink not
Beneath my load-There's no unrighteousness
In God: his ways are faithfulness and love.

All that I have and am are his by right,
And his by solemn resignation too.
Adored be his name, who thus supports
My feeble soul-Serious, but not o'erwhelmed.
For why? I see the hand of God in all,
"Tis he who orders all things for my trial,
Dashing my hopes of earthly happiness,
And even of bare subsistence in the world.

Yet I would see the crown on Jesus' head,

And bid him reign, reign glorious and supreme;
Disposing all things which relate to me,
According to his will, and for his praise.
It is enough, if he be glorified:
For him it is my happiness to live,
Adverse or prosperous, my joy to die.

Although he slay me, yet I'll trust in him!
And let it now appear: I long to bear
Full testimony to his name, while thus
I walk in darkness, and can see no light.
Oh let me now give proof how I esteem
Him worthy of my love and highest praise.
Shall things created spoil my present peace,
While God, the uncreated source of every good,
Liveth and changeth not; and lives my friend?
In him my life is hid: here then I rest,

While pleased that he my portion here should choose.

E'rewhile I sung of mercy, now of judgment.
Oh thou of Beings best! Who would not trust,
And love thy name? All those that know thee will.

Be this my choice, whatever be my lot.

Thus all is well; yea, infinitely well;

Thy glory and my happiness are one:

While that which works thy praise fulfils my joy-
This gives adversity another face.

LONGING FOR HEAVEN,

After leaving the company of Ungodly and contentious men.

Extracted from Miss Anthony's Memoirs, page 110.

"April 1753. Lord, when shall I put from this tempestous shore? I am weary of the world. I long for a calm, cool retreat, from noise and heat, and all the sordid clamours of earthly groveling souls. I hate the sulphu

I

reous breath of calumny and detraction. My soul was made for harmony and love: and without this, immortality would be a curse, my being, a horrid torment. My soul abhors rancour and envy. I detest evil surmises, and love the balmy air, where peace and friendship reign unmolested; where sharp arrows of the mighty, with coals of juniper, never fly; nor clouds of smoke from the infernal pit, suffocate the air, nor taint, nor poison the dear associates. There I would fix my dear abode, wide from the wrangling wretch, who courts resentment and revenge; nor should his rage, nor should his yells, within the sacred realms be heard. My soul is near allied to spirits born and bred on high, where no resentment ever rises; nor is the vulgar passion, common to fools and madmen, with the sordid bull and bear, ever known there. There, sweet are their joys, and blest are their souls, where all unite in piety and love. Oh, I long to join the lovely band, nor would I ever quit the dear delights."

Reduced to Blank Verse.

When shall I leave this turbulent abode ?
When launch from this tempestuous, noisy shore?
I'm weary of the world: I long to dwell

Where sordid, clam'rous din no more is heard.

The foul, sulphureous breath of calumny,
And base detraction, rancour, ill surmise,
Envy, and all malignity, I hate.

My soul was made for harmony and love :
Existence void of this a torment were,
And immortality itself a curse.

Oh for a dwelling on those balmy shores,
Where peace and friendship unmolested reign;
Where shafts of murd'rous malice never fly,
Nor clouds of smoke from the infernal pit
Can suffocate the air, poison, or taint
The dear associates-There be my abode,

Wide from the wrangler, who resentment courts,
Loves fierce contention, and provokes revenge:
Nor shall his furious rage, nor shall his yells
In all the sacred regions once be heard.

To th' inhabitants of heaven I feel allied,
Within whose minds resentment rises not;
Nor vulgar passion rages in their breasts,
Common to madmen, fools, and sordid brutes.
Sweet are their joys, their souls are doubly blest,
Where all unite in piety and love.

Oh how I long to join the lovely band,
Nor would I ever quit the dear delights.

MYSTERIOUS NATURE OF MAN.

I am fearfully and wonderfully made. Psal. cxxxix. 14.

THE term fearful' is sometimes to be taken subjectively, for our being possessed of fear. In this sense it signifies the same as timid. Thus the prophet was directed to say to them that were of a 'fearful' heart, be strong. At other times it is taken objectively, for that property in an object, the contemplation of which excites fear in the beholder. Thus it is said of God, that he is 'fearful' in praises, and that it is a 'fearful' thing to fall into the hands of the living God. In this sense it is manifestly to be understood in the passage now under consideration. The human frame is so admirably constructed, so delicately combined, and so much in danger of being dissolved by innumerable causes, that the more we think of it, the more we tremble, and wonder at our own continued existence.

"How poor, how rich, how abject, how august,
How complicate, how wonderful is man!
How passing wonder He who made him such,
Who mingled in our make such strange extremes

Of different natures, marvellously mixed.

Helpless immortal, insect infinite,

A worm, a god-I tremble at myself!"