Be never more dismay'd!
From Guilt, Fear, Paffion, and the Strefs
Of all that might a Sinner prefs,
His Blood thy Ransom paid.

2 Whatever Storms go o'er thy Head,
Thou to this wretched World art dead,
(O fweet and happy Death!)
In Jefu's Love, that purer Air,
Where all is lightfome, calm and fair,
Doft thou abide and breathe.

3 Carefully keep thy prefent Light,
If any Foe would thee affright,
Answer, that Chrift hath died!
No Accident or Face of Things
Can touch thy Safety, which ftill Springs
Fresh from His wounded Side.

Look down, ye heavenly Hoft, and fee
How Jefus hath exalted me,

A Child of Hell before!

My fprinkled Heart hath learnt to fing,
And wait, like you, upon my King,
Nor need I leave him more.

XXXVII.

XXXVI.

From the German.

No. 580. v. 18.

HHe whom His People now difown,

E. who was laugh'd at on the Tree,

Who marks with certain Infamy

Each that reveres the thorny Crown; Is mine, and all my Brethren's Head, By whom we tenderly are led.

XXXVI.

From the German.

N°. 1004.

Igh on His everlafting Throne The King of Saints his Work furveys, Marks the dear Souls He calls His own, And fmiles on the peculiar Race. He refts well pleas'd their Toil to fee: Beneath His eafy Yoke they move, With all their Heart and Strength agree In the fweet Labour of His Love.

* John i. II.

His

2 His Eye the World at once looks thro',
A vaft uncultivated Field;

Mountains and Vales in ghaftly Shew,
A barren uncouth Profpect yield.
Clear'd of the Thorns by human Care,
A few lefs hideous Waftes are feen;
Yet ftill they all continue bare,

And not one Spot of Earth is green.
3. See where the Servants of their God,
A bufy Multitude, appear,
For Jefus Day and Night employ'd,
His Husbandry they toil to clear.
The Love of Chrift their Hearts conftrains,
And ftrengthens their unwearied Hands ;
They spend their Blood and Sweat and Pains
To cultivate Emmanuel's Lands.
4 Alarm'd at their successful Toil
Satan and his wild Spirits rage,
They labour to tear up and spoil
And blaft the rifing Heritage.
In every Wilderness they fow

5

The Seed of Death the carnal Mind
They would not let one Virtue grow,
Nor leave one Seed of Good behind.

Yet ftill the Servants of their Lord
Look up and calmly perfevere,
Supported by the Matter's Word

The adverfe Pow'rs they fcorn to fear ;

Gladly

Gladly their happy Work purfte:

The Labour of their Hands is feen,
Their Hands the Face of Earth renew,
Diverfify'd with chearful Green.
6 Where'er the faithful Workers turn,
The Steps of Induftry appear;
They labour the dry Wood to burn,
They labour with inceffant Care
The Fruits of Sodom to tread down,
To root up each accurfed Seed
By Satan and his Spirits fown,

And plant the Gospel in its ftead. 7 To dig the Ground they all bestow

Their Lives; from ev'ry foften'd Clod They gather out the Stones, and fow

Th' immortal Seed the Word of God. They water it with Tears and Pray'rs ; They long for the returning Word, Happy, if all their Paids and Cares

Can bring forth Fruit to pleafe their
Lord.

8 Jefus their Work delighted fees,

Their Induftry vouchfafes to crown; He kindly gives the wifh'd Increafe, And fends the promis'd Bleffing down's

The

The Sap of Life the Spirit's Pow'rs
He rains inceffant from above;

He all His gracious Fullness fhow'rs To perfect their great Work of Love. 9 He profpers all His Servants Toils; But of peculiar Grace has chofe A Flock, on whom his kindeft Smiles And choiceft Bleffings he bestows Devoted to their common Lord, True Followers of the bleeding Lamb, By God belov'd, by Men abhorr'd, Distinguish'd by the hidden Name. 10 Here many a faithful Soul is found With myftic Pow'rs of Love endu'd ; Full of the Light of Life, and crown'd A King and Prieft to ferve his God: With burning Zeal for Chrift they fhine, Their Body, Soul and Spirit give, Their Goods and Blood for Chrift resign, For Chrift they freely die or live.

11 What can we offer our good Lord

(Poor Nothings) for his endless Grace?
Fain would we His great Name record,
And worthily fet forth His Praise.
Dear Object of our Faith and Love,
To whom our more than All we owe,
Open the Fountain from above,
And let it on our Spirits flow: