Had I a throne above the rest,

Where angels and archangels dwell, One sin, unslain, within my breast,

Would make that heaven as dark as hell.

The prisoner sent to breathe fresh air,
And bless'd with liberty again,

Would mourn were he condemn'd to wear
One link of all his former chain.

But, oh! no foe invades the bliss,

When glory crowns the Christian's head; One view of Jesus as He is

Will strike all sin for ever dead.

LVIII. THE NEW CONVERT.

THE new-born child of gospel grace,
Like some fair tree when summer's nigh,
Beneath Emmanuel's shining face
Lifts up his blooming branch on high.
No fears he feels, he sees no foes,
No conflict yet his faith employs,
Nor has he learnt to whom he owes
The strength and peace his soul enjoys.
But sin soon darts its cruel sting,
And comforts sinking day by day,
What seem'd his own, a self-fed spring,
Proves but a brook that glides away.

When Gideon arm'd his numerous host,
The Lord soon made his numbers less;
And said, "Lest Israel vainly boast,*

6

My arm procured me this success.' Thus will he bring our spirits down, And draw our ebbing comforts low, That saved by grace, but not our own, We may not claim the praise we owe. * Judges, vii. 2.

LIX. TRUE AND FALSE COMFORTS.

O GOD, whose favourable eye
The sin-sick soul revives,
Holy and heavenly is the joy
Thy shining presence gives.
Not such as hypocrites suppose,
Who with a graceless heart
Taste not of thee, but drink a dose
Prepared by Satan's art.
Intoxicating joys are theirs,

Who while they boast their light,
And seem to soar above the stars,
Are plunging into night.

Lull'd in a soft and fatal sleep,
They sin and yet rejoice;

Were they indeed the Saviour's sheep,
Would they not hear his voice ?
Be mine the comforts that reclaim
The soul from Satan's power;
That make me blush for what I am,
And hate my sin the more.
'Tis joy enough, my All in All,
At thy dear feet to lie;
Thou wilt not let me lower fall,

And none can higher fly.

LX. A LIVING AND A DEAD FAITH.

THE Lord receives his highest praise
From humble minds and hearts sincere ;
While all the loud professor says
Offends the righteous Judge's ear.
To walk as children of the day,
To mark the precepts' holy light,
To wage the warfare, watch, and pray,
Show who are pleasing in his sight.
Not words alone it cost the Lord,
To purchase pardon for his own;

Nor will a soul by grace restored
Return the Saviour words alone.

With golden bells, the priestly vest,

And rich pomegranates border'd round,* The need of holiness express'd,

And call'd for fruit as well as sound.
Easy indeed it were to reach

A mansion in the courts above,
If swelling words and fluent speech
Might serve instead of faith and love.
But none shall gain the blissful place,
Or God's unclouded glory see,
Who talks of free and sovereign grace,
Unless that grace has made him free!

LXI. ABUSE OF THE GOSPEL.

Too many, Lord, abuse thy grace
In this licentious day,

And while they boast they see thy face,
They turn their own away.

Thy book displays a gracious light
That can the blind restore;
But these are dazzled by the sight,
And blinded still the more.
The pardon such presume upon,
They do not beg, but steal;
And when they plead it at thy throne,
Oh! where's the Spirit's seal?

Was it for this, ye lawless tribe,
The dear Redeemer bled ?
Is this the grace the saints imbibe
From Christ the living head?

Ah, Lord, we know thy chosen few
Are fed with heavenly fare;

But these, the wretched husks they chew,
Proclaim them what they are.

Exod. xxviii. 33.

The liberty our hearts implorc
Is not to live in sin;

But still to wait at Wisdom's door,
Till Mercy calls us in.

LXII. THE NARROW WAY.

WHAT thousands never knew the road! What thousands hate it when 't is known! None but the chosen tribes of God

Will seek or choose it for their own.

A thousand ways in ruin end,

One only leads to joys on high; By that my willing steps ascend, Pleased with a journey to the sky. No more I ask or hope to find Delight or happiness below; Sorrow may well possess the mind

That feeds where thorns and thistles grow. The joy that fades is not for me, I seek immortal joys above; There glory without end shall be The bright reward of faith and love. Cleave to the world, ye sordid worms, Contented lick your native dust! But God shall fight with all his storms, Against the idol of your trust.

LXIII. DEPENDENCE.

To keep the lamp alive,
With oil we fill the bowl;
'Tis water makes the willow thrive,
And grace that feeds the soul.
The Lord's unsparing hand
Supplies the living stream;
It is not at our own command,
But still derived from him.

Beware of Peter's word,*
Nor confidently say,

"I never will deny thee, Lord,"
But," Grant I never may."

Man's wisdom is to seek

His strength in God alone;
And even an angel would be weak,
Who trusted in his own.

Retreat beneath his wings,
And in his grace confide!
This more exalts the King of kingst
Than all your works beside.

In Jesus is our store,

Grace issues from his throne; Whoever says, "I want no more," Confesses he has none.

LXIV. NOT OF WORKS.

GRACE, triumphant in the throne,
Scorns a rival, reigns alone;

Come and bow beneath her sway!
Cast your idol works away!

Works of man, when made his plea,
Never shall accepted be;

Fruits of pride (vain-glorious worm !)

Are the best he can perform.

Self, the god his soul adores,
Influences all his powers;
Jesus is a slighted name,

Self-advancement all his aim :

But when God the Judge shall come,
To pronounce the final doom,
Then for rocks and hills to hide
All his works and all his pride!
Still the boasting heart replies,
What! the worthy and the wise,

*Matthew, xxvi. 33.

+ John, vi. 29.