Friends and ministers said much But my blindness still was such, I chose a legal course: Much I fasted, watch'd, and strove, Thus afraid to trust his grace, By a simple word he spoke, 66 Thy sins are done away." LVI. HATRED OF SIN. HOLY Lord God! I love thy truth, Nor dare thy least commandment slight; Yet pierced by sin, the serpent's tooth, But, though the poison lurks within, Had I a throne above the rest, Where angels and archangels dwell, One sin, unslain, within my breast, Would make that heaven as dark as hell. The prisoner, sent to breathe fresh air, But, oh no foe invades the bliss, When glory crowns the Christian's head; One view of Jesus as he is Will strike all sin for ever dead. LVII. THE NEW CONVERT. THE new-born child of gospel grace, Like some fair tree when summer's nigh, Beneath Emmanuel's shining face Lifts up his blooming branch on high. No fears he feels, he sees no foes, Nor has he learnt to whom he owes But sin soon darts its cruel sting, And comforts sinking day by day: What seem'd his own, a self-fed spring, When Gideon arm'd his numerous host, And draw our ebbing comforts low, That, saved by grace, but not our own, We may not claim the praise we owe. LVIII. TRUE AND FALSE COMFORTS. O GOD, whose favourable eye Not such as hypocrites suppose, Intoxicating joys are theirs, Who, while they boast their light, And seem to soar above the stars, Are plunging into night. Lull'd in a soft and fatal sleep, They sin, and yet rejoice; Were they indeed the Saviour's sheep, Be mine the comforts that reclaim 'Tis joy enough, my All in All, LIX. A LIVING AND A DEAD FAITH. THE Lord receives his highest praise With golden bells, the priestly vest, And rich pomegranates border'd round,* The need of holiness express'd, And call'd for fruit, as well as sound. *Exod. xxviii. 33. Easy, indeed, it were to reach A mansion in the courts above, If swelling words and fluent speech Might serve, instead of faith and love. But none shall gain the blissful place, Or God's unclouded glory see, Who talks of free and sovereign grace, Unless that grace has made him free! LX. ABUSE OF THE GOSPEL. Too many, Lord, abuse thy grace, And, while they boast they see thy face, Thy book displays a gracious light That can the blind restore; The pardon, such presume upon, Was it for this, ye lawless tribe, |