To want with patience, to abound with fear And walk between presumption and despair. Then shall thy blood wash out the stain of guilt, And not in vain, for me, even me, be spilt. VENI CREATOR: SPIRITUS. Paraphrased by Dryden. CREATOR SPIRIT, by whose aid O source of uncreated light, Plenteous of grace, descend from high, Rich in Thy sevenfold energy! Thou strength of His almighty hand, Whose power does heaven and earth command, Proceeding Spirit, our defence, Who dost the gift of tongues dispense, Refine and purge our earthly parts; And when rebellious they are grown, Chase from our minds the infernal foe, Make us eternal truths receive, Immortal honour, endless fame, Who for lost man's redemption died: And equal adoration be, Eternal Paraclete, to Thee. FOR A CHARITY SERMON.-J. Bowdler, Jun. GOD, from his throne above the skies, › This darkling orb surveys; And bids the sun in glory rise To cheer a guilty race. Alike to court and lowly glen, Nor rich with mercies less divine, No bounded love, no partial grace, For wide as ocean ranges round, From Salem swell'd the solemn sound Oh! then, while winged to Heaven in Our grateful accents flow, For all the gifts we freely share, Be our's the joy with ready zeal prayer So through the earth shall mercy reign, Receive his long-lost world again, THANKFULNESS.-J. Bowdler, Jun.. SING to the LORD with cheerful voice, To bear the full Hosanna round. When starting from the shades of night, The sun array'd his limbs in light, Thy praise transported Nature sung When bending from His native sky, To bear on earth a human name; The song, by cherub voices raised, Roll'd through the dark blue depths above, And Israel's shepherds heard, amazed, And shall not man the concert join, And eve's still lamps that woo repose? And shall not he the chorus swell, Whose form the incarnate Godhead wore ? Whose guilt, whose fears, whose triumphs tell How deep the wounds his SAVIOUR bore! Long as yon glittering arch shall bend, Thy praise shall fill each grateful voice, THE SABBATH.-J. Bowdler, Jun. WHEN GOD from dust created man, And, mindful of that solemn day, And, joyful, wait their own. |