O that I could but hear his pleasing talk.
Come, blessed Jesus! take me to thy arms,
And then my heart will fear no fierce alarms.
Come, blessed Jesus! take me to thy breast,
It's there, and only there, I wish to rest.
Oh, dearest Jesus! let me drink my fill ;,
Thy word informs me All may come that will.
I'm black, but comely--in thy robes.am white-
To sing thy praise alone is my delight..
'Tis only thou canst save my soul from woe;
Under the shadow of thy wings I'd go.
Oh, throw thy mantle gently o'er my head;
And with thy wings, let all my sins be spread :
Entomb'd so deep, that they can never rise;
There's none but Jesus wipes my weeping eyes.
My conscience says, my sins are without end;
Thy word informs me thou'rt the sinner's friend:
Wearied and heavy laden, I would go;
Andord commands me that I must do so, ·
And then thou promises to give me rest.
Of all my lovers, Jesus loves me best!
SHAME of JESUS conquered by Love
JESUS, and can it ever be,
A mortal man asham'd of thee!
Scorn'd be the thought, by rich and poor
My soul shall scorn it more and more.
Asham'd of Jesus! Sooner far
May Ev'ning blush to own a star:
Asham'd of Jesus! Just as soon,
May Midnight blush to think of Noon:
Asham'd of Jesus! that dear Friend, On whom my hopes of heav'n depend! No! when I blush, be this my shame, That I no more revere his name.
Asham'd of Jesus! Yes, I may,
When I've no crimes to wash away;
No tears to wipe, no joys to crave,
And no immortal soul to save!
Till THEN (nor is the boasting vain)
Till then, I boast a Saviour slain:
And O, may this my portion be,
That Jesu's not asham'd of me!
The UNKNOWN WORLD.
Verses occasioned by hearing a PASS BELL. HARK! my gay friend! that solemn toll Speaks the departure of a soul.
'Tis gone! that's all, we know not where,
Or how th'un bodied soul does fare.
In that mysterious world, none knows,
But God alone to whom it goes;
To whom departed souls return,
To take their doom---to smile or mourn.
Oh! by what glimmering light we view
The unknown world we're hastening to!
God has lock'd up the mystic page,
And curtain'd darkness round the stage.
We talk of Heaven, we talk of Hell;
But what they mean-no tongue can tell!
Heaven is the realm where angels are ;.,
And Hell, the chaos of despair !
But what these awful words imply,
-None of us know before we die !
This hour, perhaps, our friend is well,
Death-struck the next, he cries-farewell!
I die! And then, for ought we see,
Ceases at once to breathe and be!
Thus, launch'd from life's ambiguous shore,
Ingulph'd in death-appears no more!
Then undirected to repair,
To distant worlds we know not where.
Swift flies the soul-perhaps it's gone
A thousand leagues beyond sun;
Or thrice ten thousand more, thrice told,
Ere the forsaken clay is cold!
And yet who knows, if friends we lov'd,
Though dead, may be so far remov'd;
Only this veil of flesh between,
-Perhaps they watch us tho' unseen.
But yet, no notices they give,
Nor tell us where nor how they live ;
Though conscious whilst with us below,
How much themselves desir'd to know;
As if bound up by solemn fate,
To keep this secret of their state;
To tell their joys or pains to none,
That man might live by Faith alone.
Well, let my Sovereign, if he please,
Lock up his marvellous decrees;
Why should I wish him to reveal,
What he thinks proper to conceal ?
It is enough that I believe,
Heaven's brighter than I can conceive;
And he that makes it all his care
To serve God here, shall see him there :
But Oh! what worlds shall I
survey,
The moment that I leave this clay ?
How sudden the surprise! how new !
Let it, my God, be happy too!..
The DYING CHRISTIAN to his Sout.
BY MR. POPE.
VITAL spark of heav'nly flame!
Quit, Oh quit this mortal frame:
Trembling, hoping, ling ring, flying,
Oh the pain, the bliss of dying!
Cease, fond Nature, cease thy strife,
And let me languish into life.
Hark, they whisper; Angels say,
Sister Spirit, come away.
What is this absorbs me quite ?
Steals my senses shuts my sight,
Drowns my spirits, draws my breath?
Tell me, my soul, can this be death?
The world recedes; it disappears!
Heav'n opens on my eyes! my ears
With sounds seraphic ring:
Lend, lend your wings! I mount! Ifly!
O Grave! where is thy victory?
O Death! where is thy sting?
The PHILOSOPHER'S RELIGION described.
I WORSHIP the great God of might,
Whose wondrous strength is infinite!
Always resisting, at all times,
Whatever leads to vicious crimes.
By no means taking worldly pelf:
Loving my neighbor as myself:
Helping the poor that are in need ;
To strangers very kind indeed.
I strive as much as e'er I can,
To get to be a perfect man;
By imitating of the blest,
In doing things that's for the best.
My principles are such as these;
And you may call me what you please!
A Turk, a Christian, or a Jew,
Or one of the Paganic crew.
THE LORD's PRAYER.
COME join to use the sacred form
Christ taught to keep devotion warm.
"Our Father, God, in heav'n above,
Perfect in wisdom, pow'r and love;
Be thy great name by all rever'd:
Thy precepts lov'd, thy judgments fear'd.
O may thy kingdom quickly come;
Make every heart thy constant home.
Lord, as in heav'n, on earth thy will
Let all the human race fulfil.
Give us this day our daily bread;
Be spirit, soul, and body fed.
Pardon of sins may we receive,
As we all trespasses forgive.
Lead us not in temptation's way}
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