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, Would mourn were he condemn'd to wear 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. LVIII. THE NEW CONVERT. THE new-born child of gospel grace, When Gideon arm'd his numerous host, 6 My arm procured me this success.' Thus will he bring our spirits down, And draw our ebbing comforts low, That saved by grace, but not our own, We may not claim the praise we owe. * Judges, vii. 2. LIX. TRUE AND FALSE COMFORTS. O GOD, whose favourable eye Who while they boast their light, Lull'd in a soft and fatal sleep, Were they indeed the Saviour's sheep, And none can higher fly. LX. A LIVING AND A DEAD FAITH. THE Lord receives his highest praise Nor will a soul by grace restored With golden bells, the priestly vest, And rich pomegranates border'd round,* The need of holiness express'd, And call'd for fruit as well as sound. A mansion in the courts above, LXI. ABUSE OF THE GOSPEL. Too many, Lord, abuse thy grace And while they boast they see thy face, Thy book displays a gracious light Was it for this, ye lawless tribe, Ah, Lord, we know thy chosen few But these, the wretched husks they chew, Exod. xxviii. 33. The liberty our hearts implorc But still to wait at Wisdom's door, LXII. THE NARROW WAY. WHAT thousands never knew the road! What thousands hate it when 't is known! None but the chosen tribes of God Will seek or choose it for their own. A thousand ways in ruin end, One only leads to joys on high; By that my willing steps ascend, Pleased with a journey to the sky. No more I ask or hope to find Delight or happiness below; Sorrow may well possess the mind That feeds where thorns and thistles grow. The joy that fades is not for me, I seek immortal joys above; There glory without end shall be The bright reward of faith and love. Cleave to the world, ye sordid worms, Contented lick your native dust! But God shall fight with all his storms, Against the idol of your trust. LXIII. DEPENDENCE. To keep the lamp alive, Beware of Peter's word,* "I never will deny thee, Lord," Man's wisdom is to seek His strength in God alone; Retreat beneath his wings, In Jesus is our store, Grace issues from his throne; Whoever says, "I want no more," Confesses he has none. LXIV. NOT OF WORKS. GRACE, triumphant in the throne, Come and bow beneath her sway! Works of man, when made his plea, Fruits of pride (vain-glorious worm !) Are the best he can perform. Self, the god his soul adores, Self-advancement all his aim : But when God the Judge shall come, *Matthew, xxvi. 33. + John, vi. 29. |