What, in the agony of heart, When foes rush in, and friends depart? - To pray like Him, the Holy One, Father, thy will, not mine, be done.” What, in the bitterness of death, When the last sigh cuts the last breath? -Like Him your spirit to commend, And up to paradise ascend. What in the grave, and in that hour, When even the grave shall lose its power? -Like Him, your rest awhile to take; Then at the trumpet's sound awake, Him as He is in heaven to see, And as He is, yourself to be. "OCCUPY TILL I COME." LUKE, xix. 13. ON THE DEATH OF THE LATE JOSEPH BUTTERWORTH, ESQ. AN EXEMPLARY CHRISTIAN, PATRIOT, AND PHILANTHROPIST. "He was a burning and a shining light: -And is he now eclipsed in hopeless night? No; faith beholds him near the sapphire throne, Shining more bright than e'er on earth he shone ; While, where created splendour all looks dim, Heaven's host are glorifying GOD in him. If faith's enraptured vision now be true, And things invisible stand forth to view, He chooses, rather than a seraph's seat, Come we who once beheld his noontide blaze, We may, we must by our own light appear; -The weakest are almighty in his name. What though the great, the good, the glorious fall, He reigns whose kingdom ruleth over all. -Talk not of talents;- -what hast thou to do? Thy duty, be thy portion five or two; Talk not of talents;-is thy duty done? EVENING SONG. FOR THE SABBATH DAY. MILLIONS within thy courts have met, Vows with their lips to thee they vow'd: But Thou, soul-searching GOD! hast known In spirit and truth that worshipp'd Thee. People of many a tribe and tongue, Still, as the light of morning broke Sabbath all round the world to keep. From east to west, the sun survey'd, From north to south, adoring throngs; And still, where evening stretch'd her shade, The stars came forth to hear their songs. Harmonious as the winds and seas, In halcyon hours, when storms are flown, Arose earth's Babel languages, In pure accordance to thy throne. Not angel-trumpets sound more clear, Than humble prayer and thankful praise. And not a prayer, a tear, a sigh, Hath fail'd this day some suit to gain: -To those in trouble Thou wert nigh; Not one hath sought thy face in vain. Thy poor were bountifully fed, Thy chasten'd sons have kiss'd the rod, Thy mourners have been comforted, The pure in heart have seen their GOD. In which both heaven and earth accord; -Fulfil thy promise to thy Son, Let all that breathe call Jesus Lord! |