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All their talking, reading, writing,
Are but talents misapplied ; Infants' prattle I delight in,
Nothing human choose beside.
'Tis the secret fear of sinning
Checks my tongue, or I should say, When I see the night beginning,
I am glad of parting day: Love this gentle admonition
Whispers soft within my breast; “ Choice befits not thy condition,
Acquiescence suits thee best.”
Henceforth, the repose and pleasure
Night affords me I resign;
Wisdom infinite! of mine :
Quarreling with thy decrees; Wayward nature finds the occasion,
'Tis her folly and disease.
Night, with its sublime enjoyments,
Now no longer will I choose; Nor the day, with its employments,
Irksome as they seem, refuse; Lessons of a God's inspiring
Neither time nor place impedes; From our wishing and desiring
Our unhappiness proceeds.
ON THE SAME.
Night! how I love thy silent shades,
My spirits they compose;
In spite of all my woes.
While sleep instils her poppy
In blest tranquillity.
And when I feel a God immense
His favour to my heart;
My native meanness I lament,
Though most divinely fillid
That Deity can yield.
purpose and his course he keeps ; Treads all my reasonings down; Commands me out of nature's deeps,
And hides me in his own.
When in the dust, its proper place,
Our pride of heart we lay,
Bears all our sins away.
Thou whom I serve, and whose I am,
Whose influence from on high
And makes my fetters fly;
Who thwarts thy gracious power;
Increasing every hour!
How luminous and clear !
Lest thou shouldst disappear.
In this secure recess ;
My joy shall not be less :
But if thou deign to make
Ah, keep my heart awake !
THE JOY OF THE CROSS.
LONG plunged in sorrow, I resign
Without reserve or fear;
Transform the falling tear.
My sole possession is thy love;
I have no other store;
I ask thee nothing more.
And I thy sovereign will,
And doom'd to suffer still.
A never failing friend;
Let Sorrow still attend !
It costs me no regret, that she,
And though, where'er she goes,
bitter woes. Adieu! ye vain delights of earth; Insipid sports, and childish mirth,
I taste no sweets in you; Unknown delights are in the Cross, All joy beside to me is dross ;
And Jesus thought so too.
The Cross! Oh ravishment and bliss,-
Its bitterness how sweet!
Tastes happiness complete.
Their dignity secure;
Is delicate and pure.
'Tis all the bliss she knows :
In suffering her repose. Sorrow and Love go side by side; Nor height nor depth can e'er divide
Their heaven-appointed bands; Those dear associates still are one, Nor till the race of life is run
Disjoin their wedded hands. Jesus, avenger of our fall, Thou faithful lover, above all
The Cross has ever borne ! Oh tell me, life is in thy voice,How much afflictions were thy choice,
And sloth and ease thy scorn!