Oh, let thy sighs, like pens—and let thy tears,
Like ink, inscribe the love, the indulgent cares
Of thy Creator; that himself may find,
Within the unblotted volume of thy mind,
Himself recorded: so will be embrace

Thy spotless soul, and fill thee with his grace.
Incline thine ears, and let thy heart rejoice,
To hear the strains of his harmonious voice.
Hearken, and thou shalt hear his prophets sing
The admired mercies of the glorious King:-
"Thus saith the great and everlasting One,
That rules the heavens and governs earth alone,
Thus saith the Lord, that takes delight to dwell
Among his saints-that formed Israel,
Created Jacob-let thy sorrows flee

Out of thy breast: I have redeemed thee.
'Twas I that made thy clouded vision shine,
And call'd thee by my name, for thou wert mine
I will be with thee when thy feet shall wade
Thorough the waters, I will be thy aid:

I'll make thee walk through rivers, and the waves
Shall prove
ambitious to become thy slaves;
And when thou walkest through the raging fire,
The unruly flames shall not presume to aspire
Or kindle on thy garments. I alone,

The Lord thy God, and Israel's Holy One,
And thy dear Saviour, that was always true,
Gave Egypt, Seba, Ethiopia too,

To ransom thee; for thou wert my delight,
And always precious in my favouring sight:
Honours were heaped upon thee, and thou wert
The tender love of my affecting heart; -

Therefore even I, well pleased with thee, will give

People for thy dear sake, that thou mayst live.

Fear not, for I am with thee, and will stand
In thy defence: and my all-grasping hand
Shall bring thy seed from the remotest places,
And fill thee with my satisfying graces.

My tongue shall call unto the north, and say
Unto the south, Give,'-and they shall obey:
Bring from afar my sons and daughters all;
Hear my loud voice, be active when I call.
I have created them; and I proclaim,
They shall be call'd and honoured by my name.
I'll usher forth the blind, and make them see
The splendent glories of my majesty:

I'll cure the deaf, and make their hearts rejoice
To hear the echoes of my warbling voice.""
Thus hath our God untied the tongues, and broke
His prophets' lips-thus have his prophets spoke.
And wilt thou be, O man, so much obdure,
As not to credit him that will assure
Perpetual happiness? Thou canst not ask
That which he cannot give: do but unmask
Thy shame-fac'd soul, that so thou mayst descry
Jehovah's mercies with a faithful eye;

Descant upon his promises; advise

With thine own thoughts; let wisdom make thee

wise.

Go, rally all

Thy thoughts together, and discreetly fall
Into a serious study. Let thy mind
Be absolute, and really inclined

To meditation. Contradict the rage
Of thine own passions. Labour to assuage
The fire of lust, that so thou mayst behold
With more serenity, how manifold

His mercies are. Think what he did endure,
Before his wounds had perfected thy cure.

Remember how undauntedly he stood,
And sweat himself into a crimson flood
To ransom thee; remember how his woes
Were asperated by his raging foes;
Remember how his sacred temples wore
A spiry crown; remember how it tore

His sublime front; remember how they broach'd
His breast with spears, and shamefully reproach'd
His spotless fame; remember how they nail'd
His spreading hands; remember how they

scal'd

His ivory walls; remember how they spawl'd
Upon his face; remember how they bawl'd
And banded at his agony, whilst he
Prov'd patient martyr to their tyranny;
Remember, when he came unto the brink
Of death, they gave him vinegar to drink.

Here's love, O man, that does as far transcend Thy thoughts as thy deserts, that Heaven should

send

His Son and Heir to be incarnated

And suffer death for thee, that wert as dead
As sin could make thee: 'twas for thy offence
He died-ah! how, how canst thou recompense
Such high-bred favours? After thou art fed,
Wilt thou contemn the hand that gave thee bread?
Wouldst thou not love that friend that should be-
stow

A superannuated crust, and show

Respect unto thee, when the ebbing tide
Of fortune runs so low, that thou mayst ride
Upon the sands of poverty? Fond man,
Strive to be grateful: study how to scan
The mercies of thy God; remember how
He feeds thy soul with manna; learn to bow

The unruly thoughts; with admiration think
How often, and how much embittered drink
Thy Saviour drank—with what a doleful cry
He begg'd of God to let that cup pass by;
But knowing that his pleasure must be done,
He prov'd himself a most obedient Son.

And wilt thou not, coy wretch! drink one poor sup

Of bitter drink for him, that drank a cup
To sweeten thine?

DIVINE EJACULATION.

GREAT God, whose sceptre rules the earth,
Distil thy fear into my heart,

That being rapt with holy mirth
I may proclaim how good thou art:
Open my lips, that I may sing
Full praises to my God, my King.

Great God, thy garden is defac'd,

The weeds thrive there, thy flowers decay; O call to mind thy promise past,

Restore thou them, cut these away: Till then let not the weeds have power To starve or stint the poorest flower.

In all extremes, Lord, thou art still
The mount whereto my hopes do flee;

O make my soul detest all ill,

Because so much abhor'd by thee: Lord, let thy gracious trials show That I am just, or make me so.

Shall mountain, desert, beast, and tree
Yield to that heavenly voice of thine,
And shall that voice not startle me,

Nor stir this stone-this heart of mine? No, Lord, till thou new-bore mine ear, Thy voice is lost, I cannot hear.

Fountain of light and living breath,

Whose mercies never fail nor fade, Fill me with life that hath no death,

Fill me with light that hath no shade; Appoint the remnant of my days To see thy power, and sing thy praise.

Lord God of gods, before whose throne
Stand storms and fire, O what shall we
Return to heaven, that is our own,

When all the world belongs to thee?
We have no offering to impart,
But praises, and a wounded heart.

O thou that sit'st in heaven, and see'st

My deeds without, my thoughts within, Be thou my prince, be thou my priestCommand my soul, and cure my sin : How bitter my afflictions be

I care not, so I rise to thee.

What I possess, or what I crave
Brings no content, great God, to me,
If what I would, or what I have
Be not possest and blest in thee:
What I enjoy, oh make it mine
In making me that have it-thine.