THE CHRISTIAN PILGRIM'S PROGRESS.
"Speak unto the children of Israel, that they go forward."
Ah! wherefore will not men take heed
In this their day, their hour of need,
And, mindful of the judgment, save
Their souls through Jesus from the
grave?
When Jesus comes, too late 'twill be
To seek to change their destiny.
All earthly joys shall then have fled,
All friends be numbered with the dead,
And none but they, who here below
Have drunk with Christ the cup of woe,
Shall then behold the blest abode,
Where dwell the saints in peace with God.
Then, Christian brothers, let us take
Fresh courage, and fresh efforts make;
Serve not the world in this its hour
Of pomp and pride and fancied power;
Through clouds and darkness lies our way
To regions of eternal day.
The Lord Jehovah calls us on,
Our Captain is the Holy One,
And, as with joy we march along,
Angels will cheer us with their song; When at the Lamb's high throne we bow,
Glory shall crown the victor's brow.
THE COMFORT OF SUFFERINGS.
"As ye are partakers of the sufferings, so also of the consolation."
Repine not at sufferings-we need them to prove
The strength of our faith, and the warmth of our love;
By a merciful Father from Heaven they are sent,
And often as loving corrections are meant.
Repine not at sufferings-they bid us prepare
Our hearts and our souls and our voices for prayer;
They call us away from the follies of earth,
And make us look up to the land of our birth.
Repine not at sufferings-the Lord from on high
Came down from his glory to suffer and die;
For the gain set before him he recked not the loss,
For the sins of the world he was nailed to the Cross.
Repine not at sufferings-the more they increase,
The more shall our knowledge of God's blessed peace;
They last not for ever; God wills them to cease,
And then we give thanks for the gracious release.
Repine not at sufferings-through sufferings we know How to feel for our brethren, when they are in woe; The hard heart is softened, the haughty brought low, And the love, which burnt feebly, recovers its glow.
Repine not at sufferings—as gold, when refined,
Comes forth from the furnace the best of its kind,
So all men are provèd; the base suffer loss,
The sterling endure, and are purged from all dross.
"The true tabernacle which the Lord pitched, and not man."
Think not these earthly temples are
The only houses meet for prayer,
In every place the Lord doth hear
The true and faithful worshipper.
There is a mystic heavenly shrine,
Where sits enthroned the Lord divine,
Thither be all thy prayers addrest,
There seek the true and perfect rest.
Though surpliced priests meet not thine eye,
The great High Priest is ever nigh,
Thy fellow-worshippers are they,
Who everywhere the Lord obey.
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