Object of my first desire,
Jesus! crucified for me,
All to happiness aspire,
Only to be found in thee;
Thee to praise, and thee to know,
Constitute our bliss below:
Thee to see, and thee to love,
Constitute our bliss above.
Lord! it is not life to live,
If thy presence thou deny,
Lord! if thou thy presence give,
'Tis no longer death—to die.
Source and giver of repose,
Singly from thy smile it flows,
Peace and happiness are thine,
Mine they are if thou art mine,
While I feel thy love to me,
Every object teems with joy;
Here, O may I walk with thee,
Then into thy presence die!
Let me but thyself possess,
Total sum of happiness!
Real bliss I then shall prove,
Heaven below and heaven above.
THE FUTURE PEACE AND GLORY OF THE CHURCH.
HEAR what God the Lord hath spoken:
O my people, faint and few,
Comfortless, afflicted, broken,
Fair abodes I build for you :
Thorns of heart-felt tribulation
Shall no more perplex your ways;
You shall name your walls salvation,
And your gates shall all be praise.
There, like streams that feed the garden,
Pleasures without end shall flow;
For the Lord, your faith rewarding,
All his bounty shall bestow :
Still, in undisturb'd possession,
Peace and righteousness shall reign;
Never shall you feel oppression,
Hear the voice of war again.
Ye no more your suns descending,
Waning moons no more shall see ;
But, your griefs for ever ending,
Find eternal noon in me :
God shall rise, and shining o'er you,
Change to day the gloom of night;
He, the Lord, shall be your glory,
God your everlasting light.
CHRIST'S CARE FOR HIS PEOPLE.
Oh! ZION, afflicted with wave upon wave,
Whom no man can comfort, whom no man can save,
With darkness surrounded, by terrors dismay'd,
In toiling and rowing thy strength is decay'd.
Loud roaring, the billows now nigh overwhelm,
But skilful's the Pilot who sits at the helm ;
His wisdom conducts thee, his pow'r thee defends,
In safety and quiet thy warfare he ends.
O fearful! O faithless! in mercy he cries,
My promise, my truth, are they light in thine eyes? Still, still I am with thee, my promise shall stand, Through tempest and tossing I'll bring thee to land.
Forget thee I will not, I cannot, thy name
Engrav'd on my heart doth for ever remain ;
The palms of my hands whilst I look on, I see
The wounds I received when suffering for thee.
I feel at my heart all thy sighs and thy groans,
For thou art most near me, my flesh and my bones;
In all thy distresses thy head feels the pain,
Yet all is most needful, not one is in vain.
Then trust me, and fear not, thy life is secure,
My wisdom is perfect, supreme is my pow'r;
In love I correct thee, thy soul to refine,
To make thee at length in my likeness to shine.
The foolish, the fearful, the weak, are my care;
The helpless, the hopeless, I hear their sad prayer,
From all their afflictions my glory shall spring,
And the deeper their sorrows, the louder they'll
sing.
WHEN pining sickness wastes the frame,
Acute disease, and weak'ning pain;
When life spends fast her feeble flame,
And all the help of man is vain;
Joyless and dark all things appear,
Languid the spirits, weak the flesh;
Med'cines can't ease, nor cordials cheer,
Nor food support, nor sleep refresh ;
Oh! then to have recourse to God,
Το pray to him in time of need,
To feel the balm of Jesus's blood,
This is to find a friend indeed.
O Christian! this thy happy lot,
Who cleavest to the Lord by faith;
He'll never leave thee, doubt it not,
In pain, in sickness, or in death.
When flesh, and heart, decays and fails,
He will thy strength, and portion be,
Support thy weakness, bear thy ails,
And softly whisper, "Trust in me."
Himself will be thy tender friend,
Thy kind physician, and thy stay;
To make thy bed will condescend,
And chase thy burning tears away.
"EXCEEDING GREAT AND PRECIOUS PROMISES."
How firm a foundation, ye saints of the Lord,
Is laid for your faith in his excellent word!
What more can he say than to you he hath said,
You, who unto Jesus for refuge have fled.
|