He speaks-obedient to his call
Our warm affections move;
Did he but shine alike on all,
Then all alike would love.

Then love in ev'ry heart would reign,
And war would cease to roar;
And cruel, and blood-thirsty men,
Would thirst for blood no more.

Such JESUS is, and such his grace,
Oh may he shine on you1!

And tell him, when you see his face,
I long to see him too.

XXXV. [ВK. III. xv.]

LIGHT SHINING OUT OF DARKNESS

GOD moves in a mysterious way,
His wonders to perform;
He plants his footsteps in the sea,
And rides upon the storm.

Deep in unfathomable mines
Of never failing skill;

He treasures up his bright designs,
And works his sovereign will.

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Ye fearful saints fresh courage take,
The clouds ye so much dread

Are big with mercy, and shall break
In blessings on your head.

Judge not the LORD by feeble sense,
But trust him for his grace;

Behind a frowning providence,
He hides a smiling face.

His purposes will ripen fast,

Unfolding ev'ry hour;

The bud may have a bitter taste,

But sweet will be the flow'r.

Blind unbelief is sure to err 2,
And scan his work in vain;
GOD is his own interpreter,
And he will make it plain.

XXXV-20 sweet will be] wait to smell MS. quoted by

J. E. B. Mayor.

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XXXIII. [BK. III. x.] ́

THE WAITING SOUL

BREATHE from the gentle South, O LORD,
And cheer me from the North;
Blow on the treasures of thy word,
And call the spices forth!

I wish, thou know'st, to be resign'd,
And wait with patient hope;

But hope delay'd fatigues the mind,
And drinks the spirit up.

Help me to reach the distant goal,

Confirm my feeble knee;

Pity the sickness of a soul

That faints for love of thee.

Cold as I feel this heart of mine,
Yet since I feel it so--

It yields some hope of life divine
Within, however low.

I seem forsaken and alone,
I hear the lion roar;

And ev'ry door is shut but one,
And that is mercy's door.

There, till the dear Deliv'rer come,
I'll wait with humble pray'r;
And when he calls his exile home,
The LORD shall find me there.

XXXIV. [BK. III. xiii.]

SEEKING THE BELOVED

To those who know the LORD I speak,
Is my beloved near?

The bridegroom of my soul I seek,

Oh! when will he appear!

Tho' once a man of grief and shame,
Yet now he fills a throne;

And bears the greatest, sweetest name,
That earth or heav'n have known.

Grace flies before, and love attends
His steps where'er he goes;

Tho' none can see him but his friends,
And they were once his foes.

24 me] him first in 1787.

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He speaks-obedient to his call
Our warm affections move;
Did he but shine alike on all,
Then all alike would love.

Then love in ev'ry heart would reign,
And war would cease to roar;

And cruel, and blood-thirsty men,

Would thirst for blood no more.

Such JESUS is, and such his grace,
Oh may he shine on you1!

And tell him, when you see his face,
I long to see him too.

XXXV. [ВK. III. XV.]

LIGHT SHINING OUT OF DARKNESS

GOD moves in a mysterious way,
His wonders to perform;

He plants his footsteps in the sea,
And rides upon the storm.

Deep in unfathomable mines
Of never failing skill;

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He treasures up his bright designs,
And works his sovereign will.

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Ye fearful saints fresh courage take,
The clouds ye so much dread

Are big with mercy, and shall break
In blessings on your head.

Judge not the LORD by feeble sense,
But trust him for his grace;

Behind a frowning providence,
He hides a smiling face.

His purposes will ripen fast,

Unfolding ev'ry hour;

The bud may have a bitter taste,

But sweet will be the flow'r.

Blind unbelief is sure to err 2,
And scan his work in vain
GOD is his own interpreter,
And he will make it plain.

XXXV-20 sweet will be] wait to smell MS. quoted by

J. E. B. Mayor.

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Friend of the friendless, and the faint!
Where should I lodge my deep complaint?
Where but with thee, whose open door
Invites the helpless and the poor!

Did ever mourner plead with thee,
And thou refuse that mourner's plea?
Does not the word still fix'd remain,
That none shall seek thy face in vain?
That were a grief I could not bear,
Didst thou not hear and answer prayer;
But a pray'r-hearing, answ'ring GOD,
Supports me under ev'ry load.

Fair is the lot that's cast for me!
I have an advocate with thee;

They whom the world caresses most,
Have no such privilege to boast.
Poor tho' I am, despis'd, forgot1,
Yet GOD, my GOD, forgets me not;
And he is safe and must succeed,

For whom the LORD Vouchsafes to plead.

XL. [BK. III. XX.]

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THE VALLEY OF THE SHADOW OF DEATH

My soul is sad and much dismay'd;
See, LORD, what legions of my foes,
With fierce Apollyon at their head,
My heav'nly pilgrimage oppose!

See, from the ever-burning lake
How like a smoky cloud they rise!
With horrid blasts my soul they shake,
With storms of blasphemies and lies.
Their fiery arrows reach the mark2,
My throbbing heart with anguish tear;
Each lights upon a kindred spark,
And finds abundant fuel there.

I hate the thought that wrongs the LORD;
Oh, I would drive it from my breast,
With thy own sharp two-edged sword,
Far as the east is from the west.

Come then, and chase the cruel host,
Heal the deep wounds I have receiv'd!
Nor let the pow'rs of darkness boast
That I am foil'd, and thou art griev'd!
1 Ps. xl. 17.
2 Eph. vi. 16.

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XLI. [BK. III. xxiii.]

PEACE AFTER A STORM

WHEN darkness long has veil'd my mind,
And smiling day once more appears;
Then, my Redeemer, then I find
The folly of my doubts and fears.

Strait I upbraid my wandering heart,
And blush that I should ever be
Thus prone to act so base a part,
Or harbour one hard thought of thee!

Oh! let me then at length be taught
What I am still so slow to learn;
That GOD is love and changes not,
Nor knows the shadow of a turn:

Sweet truth, and easy to repeat !
But when my faith is sharply try'd,
I find myself a learner yet,

Unskilful, weak, and apt to slide.

But, O my LORD, one look from thee
Subdues the disobedient will;
Drives doubt and discontent away,
And thy rebellious worm is still.

Thou art as ready to forgive,

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As I am ready to repine;

Thou, therefore, all the praise receive,

Be shame, and self-abhorrence, mine.

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XLII. [BK. III. xxiv.]

MOURNING AND LONGING

THE Saviour hides his face!
My spirit thirsts to prove
Renew'd supplies of pard'ning grace,
And never-fading love.

The favor'd souls who know
What glories shine in him,

Pant for his presence, as the roe
Pants for the living stream!

What trifles tease me now!
They swarm like summer flies,
They cleave to ev'ry thing I do,

And swim before my eyes.

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