What peaceful hours I once enjoy'd!
How sweet their memory still!
But they have left an aching void,
The world can never fill.
Return, O holy Dove! return,
Sweet messenger of rest!
I hate the sins that made thee mourn,
And drove thee from my breast.
The dearest idol I have known,
Whate'er that idol be,
Help me to tear it from thy throne,
And worship only thee.
So shall my walk be close with God,
Calm and serene my frame;
So purer light shall mark the road
That leads me to the Lamb.
"LO, WE HAVE LEFT ALL, AND FOLLOWED THEE."
JESUS, I my cross have taken,
All to leave, and follow thee;
Naked, poor, despised, forsaken,
Thou, from hence, my all shall be ;
Perish every fond ambition,
All I've sought, or hoped, or known; Yet how rich is my condition,
God and heaven are still my own.
Let the world despise and leave me,
They have left my Saviour too ;
Human hearts and looks deceive me,
Thou art not, like them, untrue;
And whilst thou shalt smile upon me,
God of wisdom, love, and might,
Foes may hate, and friends disown me;
Show thy face, and all is bright.
Go, then, earthly fame and treasure,
Come disaster, scorn, and pain,
In thy service, pain is pleasure,
With thy favour, loss is gain.
I have called thee Abba, Father,
I have set my heart on thee,
Storms may howl, and clouds may gather,
All must work for good to me.
Man may trouble, and distress me,
'Twill but drive me to thy breast;
Life with trials hard may press me,
Heaven will bring the sweeter rest.
Oh! 'tis not in grief to harm me,
While thy love is left to me ;
Oh! 'twere not in joy to charm me,
Were that joy unmix'd with thee.
Soul, then know thy full salvation,
Rise o'er sin, and fear, and care,
Joy to find in every station
Something still to do or bear.
Think what spirit dwells within thee; Think what Father's smiles are thine ; Think that Jesus died to win thee;
Child of heaven, canst thou repine?
Haste thee on from grace to glory,
Arm'd by faith, and wing'd by prayer,
Heaven's eternal day's before thee,
God's own hand shall guide thee there.
Soon shall close thy earthly mission,
Soon shall pass thy pilgrim days;
Hope shall change to glad fruition,
Faith to sight, and prayer to praise.
BREATHE from the gentle South, O Lord,
And cheer me from the North;
Blow on the treasures of thy word,
And call the spices forth.
I wish, thou know'st, to be resign'd,
And wait with patient hope;
But hope delay'd fatigues the mind,
And drinks the spirits up.
Help me to reach the distant goal; Confirm my feeble knee;
Pity the sickness of a soul
That faints for love of thee.
Cold as I feel this heart of mine,
Yet since I feel it so,
It yields some hope of life divine
Within, however low.
I seem forsaken and alone,
I hear the lion roar ;
And every door is shut but one,
And that is mercy's door.
There, till the dear Deliverer come, I'll wait with humble prayer: And when he calls his exile home, The Lord shall find him there.
How are thy servants blest, O Lord!
How sure is their defence!
Eternal wisdom is their guide,-
Their help Omnipotence.
In foreign realms, and lands remote,
Supported by thy care,
Through burning climes I pass'd unhurt,
And breath'd in tainted air.
Thy mercy sweeten'd every soil,
Made every region please;
The hoary Alpine hills it warm'd,
And smooth'd the Tyrrhene seas.
Think, O my soul, devoutly think,
How, with affrighted eyes,
Thou saw'st the wide extended deep
In all its horrors rise.
Confusion dwelt in every face,
And fear in every heart;
When waves on waves, and gulfs on gulfs, O'ercame the pilot's art.
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