By whom was David taught And laid the Gittite low? Nor sword nor spear the stripling took, 'Twas Israel's God and King Ye feeble saints, your strength endures, Who ordered Gideon forth To storm the invaders' camp, A pitcher and a lamp? The trumpets made his coming known, And all the host was overthrown. No drop remains of all the curse, Peace by such means so dearly bought, Now, Lord, thy feeble worm prepare! For strife with earth and hell begins; Confirm and gird me for the war; They hate the soul that hates his sins. Let them in horrid league agree! They may assault, they may distress; But cannot quench thy love to me, Nor rob me of the Lord my peace. Unfathomable wonder, And mystery divine! The Voice that speaks in thunder, Says, "Sinner, I am thine !" VII. VANITY OF THE WORLD. GOD gives his mercies to be spent ; Your hoard will do your soul no good; Gold is a blessing only lent, Repaid by giving others food. The world's esteem is but a bribe, To buy their peace you sell your own; The slave of a vain-glorious tribe, Who hate you while they make you known. The joy that vain amusements give, Oh! sad conclusion that it brings ! The honey of a crowded hive, Defended by a thousand stings. 'Tis thus the world rewards the fools VIII. O LORD, I WILL PRAISE I WILL praise thee every day Here, in the fair Gospel-field, My salvation and my strength; Praise ye, then, his glorious name, Publish his exalted fame! Still his worth your praise exceeds; Raise again the joyful sound, IX. THE CONTRITE HEART. THE Lord will happiness divine I hear, but seem to hear in vain, If aught is felt, 'tis only pain, I sometimes think myself inclined Averse to all that's good. My best desires are faint and few, Thy saints are comforted, I know, Oh make this heart rejoice or ache; "There, like streams that feed the garden, Hear the voice of war again. "Ye no more your suns descending, Waning moons no more shall see ; But, your griefs for ever ending, ye, Find eternal noon in me : XI. JEHOVAH OUR RIGHT- When I would speak what thou hast done I cannot make thy mercies known, Divine desire, that holy flame This heart, a fountain of vile thoughts, How does it overflow, While self upon the surface floats, Still bubbling from below! Let others in the gaudy dress Of fancied merit shine; The Lord shall be my righteousness, The Lord for ever mine. XII. EPHRAIM REPENTING. My God, till I received thy stroke, XIII. THE COVENANT. THE Lord proclaims his grace abroad! 66 And serve, henceforth, the Lord alone. 'My grace, a flowing stream, proceeds "My truth the great design ensures, "Yet not unsought, or unimplored, I'll put a praying spirit there. "From the first breath of life divine, Then in a nobler, sweeter song, I'll sing thy power to save; When this poor lisping, stammering tongue Lies silent in the grave. Lord, I believe thou hast prepared For me a blood-bought free reward, 'Tis strung and tuned for endless years, XVI. THE SOWER. Matt. xiii. 3. And scatter blessings round. The seed that finds a stony soil Soon withered, scorched, and dead. The thorny ground is sure to balk The beaten path and highway side But where the Lord of grace and power Father of mercies, we have need XVII. THE HOUSE OF PRAYER. THY mansion is the Christian's heart, O Lord, thy dwelling-place secure! Bid the unruly throng depart, And leave the consecrated door. Devoted as it is to thee, A thievish swarm frequents the place; They steal away my joys from me, And rob my Saviour of his praise. There, too, a sharp designing trade Sin, Satan, and the World maintain; Nor cease to press me, and persuade To part with ease, and purchase pain. I know them, and I hate their din; Am weary of the bustling crowd; But while their voice is heard within, I cannot serve thee as I would. Oh for the joy thy presence gives, What peace shall reign when thou art here! Thy presence makes this den of thieves Á calm delightful house of prayer. XVIII. LOVEST THOU ME? HARK, my soul! it is the Lord; "I delivered thee when bound, "Can a woman's tender care "Mine is an unchanging love, Higher than the heights above, Deeper than the depths beneath, Free and faithful, strong as death. "Thou shalt see my glory soon, When the work of grace is done; Partner of my throne shalt be;Say, poor sinner, lovest thou me?" Lord, it is my chief complaint, That my love is weak and faint; Yet I love thee and adore, Oh! for grace to love thee more! XIX. CONTENTMENT. Phil. iv. II. In vain by reason and by rule "Art thou a sinner, soul?" he said, "Then how canst thou complain? How light thy troubles here, if weighed With everlasting pain! "If thou of murmuring wouldst be cured, Compare thy griefs with mine; Think what my love for thee endured, And thou wilt not repine. ""Tis I appoint thy daily lot, And I do all things well; Thou soon shalt leave this wretched |