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Yet he leaves me,-cruel fate!
Be not angry; I resign,
All is right that thou wilt do.
This was just what Love intended,
Love return'd to me and smiled: Never strife shall more betide 'Twixt the Bridegroom and his Bride.
A CHILD OF GOD
LONGING TO SEE HIM BELOVED.
THERE'S not an echo round me,
The rocks receive less proudly
I speak to them of sadness,
These sweet and secret tidings,
I fly to scenes romantic,
Where never men resort; For in an age so frantic
Impiety is sport;
For riot and confusion
They barter things above, Condemning, as delusion, The joy of perfect love.
In this sequester'd corner,
And harmless as a child.
No troubles here surprise me ;
While Providence supplies me,
ASPIRATIONS OF THE SOUL AFTER GOD.
My Spouse! in whose presence I live,
Sole object of all my desires,
Who know'st what a flame I conceive,
And canst easily double its fires ;
Transported I see thee display
Thy riches and glory divine;
I have only my life to repay,
Thy will is the treasure I seek,
My spirit and faculties fail;
Oh finish what love has begun! Destroy what is sinful and frail,
And dwell in the soul thou hast won! Dear theme of my wonder and praise, I cry, who is worthy as Thou! I can only be silent and gaze: 'Tis all that is left to me now.
Oh glory in which I am lost,
Too deep for the plummet of thought; On an ocean of Deity toss'd,
I am swallow'd, I sink into nought. Yet lost and absorb'd as I seem,
I chant to the praise of my king; And, though overwhelm'd by the theme, Am happy whenever I sing.
GRATITUDE AND LOVE TO GOD.
ALL are indebted much to thee,
But I far more than all,
From many a deadly snare set free,
Overwhelm me, from above,
What bonds of gratitude I feel
No language can declare; Beneath the oppressive weight I reel, 'Tis more than I can bear : When shall I that blessing prove, To return thee Love for Love?
Spirit of Charity, dispense
Drive self from every part;
Charity divine, draw nigh,
Break the chains in which we lie!
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,
Oh blessedness, all bliss above,
We learn its name, but not its powers,