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WHEN Hagar found the bottle spent,

And wept o'er Ishmael,

A message from the Lord was sent
To guide her to a well.*

Should not Elijah's cake and cruse +
Convince us at this day,

A gracious God will not refuse
Provisions by the way?

His saints and servants shall be fed,

The promise is secure;

"Bread shall be given them," as he said,
"Their water shall be sure." I

Repasts far richer they shall prove,
Than all earth's dainties are;
'Tis sweet to taste a Saviour's love,
Though in the meanest fare.

To Jesus then your trouble bring,
Nor murmur at your lot;

While

you are poor and he is King,

You shall not be forgot.

LIII. MY SOUL THIRSTETH FOR GOD.

I THIRST, but not as once I did

The vain delights of earth to share ;
Thy wounds, Emmanuel, all forbid
That I should seek my pleasures there.

* Gen. xxi. 19. † 1 Kings xvii. 14.

Isa. xxxiii. 16.

It was the sight of thy dear cross

First wean'd my soul from earthly things; And taught me to esteem as dross

The mirth of fools and pomp of kings.

I want that grace that springs from thee,
That quickens all things where it flows,
And makes a wretched thorn like me
Bloom as the myrtle, or the rose.

Dear fountain of delight unknown!
No longer sink below the brim ;
But overflow, and pour me down
A living, and life-giving stream!

For sure, of all the plants that share
The notice of thy Father's eye,
None proves less grateful to his care,
Or yields him meaner fruit than I.

LIV.

LOVE CONSTRAINING TO OBEDIENCE.

No strength of nature can suffice
To serve the Lord aright:
And what she has she misapplies,
For want of clearer light.

How long beneath the law I lay
In bondage and distress;
I toil'd the precept to obey,
But toil'd without success.

LV.

Then, to abstain from outward sin

Was more than I could do;
Now, if I feel its power within,
I feel I hate it too.

Then all my servile works were done

A righteousness to raise ;
Now, freely chosen in the Son,
I freely choose his ways.

"What shall I do," was then the word,

"That I may worthier

grow?"

"What shall I render to the Lord ?"

Is my inquiry now.

To see the law by Christ fulfill'd,
And hear his pardoning voice,
Changes a slave into a child,*
And duty into choice.

THE HEART HEALED AND CHANGED BY MERCY.

SIN enslaved me many years,

And led me bound and blind;
Till at length a thousand fears
Came swarming o'er my mind.
"Where," said I, in deep distress,
"Will these sinful pleasures end?
How shall I secure my peace,
And make the Lord my friend?"
*Romans iii. 31.

Friends and ministers said much
The gospel to enforce;

But my blindness still was such,
I chose a legal course:

Much I fasted, watch'd, and strove,

Scarce would show my face abroad,
Fear'd almost to speak or move,
A stranger still to God.

Thus afraid to trust his grace,
Long time did I rebel;

Till despairing of my case,
Down at his feet I fell:

Then my

stubborn heart he broke, And subdued me to his sway; By a simple word he spoke, "Thy sins are done away."

LVI. HATRED OF SIN.

HOLY Lord God! I love thy truth,

Nor dare thy least commandment slight;

Yet pierced by sin, the serpent's tooth,
I mourn the anguish of the bite.

But though the poison lurks within,
Hope bids me still with patience wait;
Till death shall set me free from sin,

Free from the only thing I hate.

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.

LVII. 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.

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