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My Saviour! occupy me still

In this secure recess ;
Let reason slumber if she will,

My joy shall not be less :
Let reason slumber out the night;

But if thou deign to make
My soul the abode of truth and light,

Ah, keep my heart awake!


Long plunged in sorrow, I resign
My soul to that dear hand of thine,

Without reserve or fear;
That hand shall wipe my streaming eyes;
Or into smiles of glad surprise

Transform the falling tear.
My sole possession is thy love;
In earth beneath, or heaven above,

I have no other store;
And though with fervent suit I pray,
And importune thee night and day,

I ask thee nothing more.
My rapid hours pursue the course
Prescribed them by love's sweetest force ;

And I thy sovereign will,
Without a wish to escape my doom ;
Though still a sufferer from the womb,

And doom'd to suffer still.

By thy command, where'er I stray,
Sorrow attends me all my way,

A never failing friend ;
And if my sufferings may augment
Thy praise, behold me well content-

Let sorrow still attend !

It costs me no regret, that she,
Who follow'd Christ, should follow me;

And though, where'er she goes, Thorns spring spontaneous at her feet, I love her, and extract a sweet

From all my bitter woes.

Adieu! ye vain delights of earth;
Insipid sports, and childish mirth,

I taste no sweets in you ;
Unknown delights are in the cross,
All joy beside to me is dross ;

And Jesus thought so too.

The cross! Oh ravishment and bliss
How grateful e'en its anguish is;

Its bitterness how sweet!
There every sense, and all the mind,
In all her faculties refined,

Tastes happiness complete.

Souls once enabled to disdain
Base sublunary joys, maintain

Their dignity secure;

The fever of desire is pass'd,
And love has all its genuine taste,

Is delicate and pure.

Self-love no grace in sorrow sees,
Consults her own peculiar ease;

'Tis all the bliss she knows :
But nobler aims true love employ;
In self-denial is her joy,

In suffering her repose.

Sorrow and love go side by side ;
Nor height nor depth can e'er divide

Their heaven-appointed bands ;
Those dear associates still are one,
Nor till the race of life is run

Disjoin their wedded hands.

Jesus, avenger of our fall,
Thou faithful lover, above all

The cross has ever borne!
Oh tell me,-life is in thy voice-
How much afflictions were thy choice,

And sloth and ease thy scorn!

Thy choice and mine shall be the same
Inspirer of that holy flame,

Which must for ever blaze!
To take the cross and follow thee,
Where love and duty lead, shall be

My portion and my praise.


Sweet tenants of this grove !

Who sing, without design, A song of artless love,

In unison with mine : These echoing shades return

Full many a note of ours, That wise ones cannot learn,

With all their boasted powers.

O thou ! whose sacred charms

These hearts so seldom love, Although thy beauty warms

And blesses all above; How slow are human things,

To choose their happiest lot ! All-glorious king of kings,

Say why we love thee not?

This heart, that cannot rest,

Shall thine for ever prove; Though bleeding and distress'd,

Yet joyful in thy love: 'Tis happy, though it breaks

Beneath thy chastening hand; And speechless, yet it speaks

What thou canst understand.


Still, still, without ceasing,

I feel it increasing,
This fervour of holy desire;

And often exclaim,

Let me die in the flame
Of a love that can never expire !

Had I words to explain

What she must sustain Who dies to the world and its ways;

How joy and affright,

Distress and delight, Alternately chequer her days.

Thou, sweetly severe !

I would make thee appear,
In all thou art pleased to award,

Not more in the sweet,

Than the bitter I meet,
My tender and merciful Lord.

This faith, in the dark

Pursuing its mark, Through many sharp trials of love ;

Is the sorrowful waste

That is to be pass'd
In the way to the Canaan above.

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