All selfish souls, whate'er they feign,
Have still a slavish lot;
They boast of liberty in vain,
Of love, and feel it not.
He whose bosom glows with Thee,
He, and he alone is free.
Oh blessedness, all bliss above,
When thy pure fires prevail !
Love only teaches what is love;
All other lessons fail:
We learn it's name, but not it's powers,
Experience only makes it ours.
HYMN CCCXXII.
Living Water,
GUION, TRANSLATED BY COWPER.
THE fountain in it's source,
No drought of summer fears; The farther it pursues it's course, The nobler it appears.
But shallow cisterns yield
A scanty, short supply;
The morning sees them amply fill'd,
At evening they are dry.
3 The cisterns I forsake,
O Fount of bliss, for Thee;
My thirst with living waters slake,
And drink eternity.
Truth and Divine Love rejected by the World.
GUION, TRANSLATED BY COWPER.
1 LOVE, of pure and heavenly birth!
O simple truth, scarce known on earth!
Whom men resist with stubborn will;
And more perverse and daring still,
Smother and quench, with reasonings vain,
While error and deception reign.
2 Whence comes it, that, your power the
As His on high, from whence you came,
Ye rarely find a listening ear,
Or heart that makes you welcome here?
-Because ye bring reproach and pain,
Where'er ye visit, in your train.
3 The world is proud and cannot bear
The scorn and calumny ye share;
The praise of men the mark they mean,
They fly the place where ye are seen;
Pure love, with scandal in the rear,
Suits not the vain; it costs too dear.
4 Then, let the price be what it may,
Though poor, I am prepar'd, to pay;
Come shame, come sorrow; spite of tears,
Weakness, and heart-oppressing fears;
One soul, at least, shall not repine,
To give you room; come, reign in mine!
The Testimony of Divine Adoption.
GUION, TRANSLATED BY COWPER.
HOW happy are the new-born race,
Partakers of adopting grace;
How pure the bliss they share!
Hid from the world and all it's eyes,
Within their heart the blessing lies,
And conscience feels it there.
2 The moment we believe, 'tis ours;
And if we love with all our powers
The God from whom it came;
And if we serve with hearts sincere,
"Tis still discernible and clear,
An undisputed claim.
3 But ah! if foul and wilful sin
Stain and dishonour us within,
Farewell the joy we knew;
Again the slaves of Nature's sway,
In labyrinths of our own we stray,
Without a guide or clue.
4 The chaste and pure, who fear to grieve
The gracious Spirit they receive,
His work distinctly trace;
And strong in undissembling love,
Boldly assert and clearly prove,
Their hearts his dwelling place.
HYMNS CCCXXV.
The Spirit of Peace.
GUION, TRANSLATED BY COWPER. MESSENGER of dear delight,
Whose voice dispels the deepest night, Sweet peace-proclaiming dove! With thee at hand to sooth our pains, No wish unsatisfied remains,
No task, but that of love.
2 'Tis love unites what sin divides;
The centre where all bliss resides,
To which the soul once brought,
Reclining on the First Great Cause,
From his abounding sweetness draws
Peace passing human thought.
3 Sorrow foregoes it's nature there,
And life assumes a tranquil air,
Divested of it's woes;
There, sovereign goodness soothes the breast,
Till then, incapable of rest,
In sacred sure repose.
HYMN CCCXXVI.
Self-diffidence.
GUION, TRANSLATED BY COWPer.
1 COURCE of love and Light of day,
Tear me from myself away;
Every view and thought of mine,
Cast into the mould of thine;
Teach, oh teach this faithless heart
A consistent, constant part;
Or, if living, it must grow
More rebellious, break it now!
2 Is it thus that I réquite
Grace and goodness infinite?
Every trace of every boon,
Cancell'd, and eras'd, so soon!
Can I grieve thee, whom I love;
Thee, in whom I live and move?
my sorrow touch thee still,
Save me from so great an ill!
3 Oh! th' oppressive, irksome weight,
Felt in an uncertain state;
Comfort, peace, and rest, adieu,
Should I prové at last untrue!
Still I choose thee, follow still
Every notice of thy will';
But unstable, strangely weak,
Still let slip the good I seek.
4 Self-confiding wretch, I thought,
I could serve thee as I ought,
Win thee, and deserve to feel
All the grace thou canst reveal!
Trusting self, a bruised reed,
Is to be deceiv'd indeed :
Save me from this harm and loss,
Lest my gold turn all to dross!
5 Self is earthly-Faith alone
Makes an unseen world our' own:
|