What thanks I owe thee, and what love, Shall echo through the realms above, "WILL YE ALSO GO AWAY?" WHEN any turn from Zion's way, Alas! what numbers do! Methinks I hear my Saviour say, "Wilt thou forsake me too ?" Ah! Lord, with such a heart as mine, I feel I must, I shall decline, Yet thou alone hast power, I know, To save a wretch like me; To whom, or whither could I If I should turn from thee? Beyond a doubt I rest assur'd Thou art the Christ of God, Who hast eternal life secur'd, By promise and by blood. go, The help of men and angels join'd No voice but thine can give me rest, No love but thine can make me blest, What anguish has that question stirr❜d If I will also go? Yet, Lord, relying on thy word, THE CHILD. As when a child, secure of harms, Receiving food and rest; And while through many a painful path, The travelling parent speeds, The fearless babe, with passive faith, Lies still and yet proceeds: Should some short start his quiet break, His little arms about her neck, And closer seems to cling: Thy parent's arms, and not thine own, So souls that would to Jesus cleave, And let the Lord be all. "Keep close to me, thou helpless sheep," 66 The Shepherd softly cries; Lord, tell me what 'tis close to keep," The listening sheep replies. "Thy whole dependence on me fix, Nor entertain a thought, Thy worthless schemes with mine to mix, But venture to be nought: Fond self-direction is a shelf ; Thy strength, thy wisdom, flee: When thou art nothing in thyself, Then thou art close to me." PSALM XIX. THE spacious firmament on high, And spangled heavens, a shining frame, Th' unwearied sun, from day to day, The works of an almighty hand. Soon as the evening shades prevail, Whilst all the stars that round her burn, Confirm the tidings as they roll, And spread the truth from pole to pole. What though, in solemn silence, all "WHAT THINK YE OF CHRIST?" WHAT think ye of Christ? is the test Some take him a creature to be, Sure these have not feelings like me, Nor know themselves wretched and lost ; So guilty, so helpless am I, I durst not confide in his blood, Nor on his protection rely, Unless I were sure he is God. Some call him a Saviour in word, But mix their own works with his plan, When they have done all that they can : |