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“Yet Thy sure mercies ever in my sight,
My heart shall gladden through the tedious day; And 'midst the dark and gloomy shades of night,
To Thee I'll fondly tune the grateful lay. “Rock of my hope! great Solace of my heart !
Why, why desert the offspring of Thy care, While taunting foes thus point th' invidious dart,
Where is thy God, abandon'd wanderer, where ?' “Why faint, my soul? why doubt Jehovah's aid?
Thy God the God of mercy still shall prove; Within His courts thy thanks shall yet be paid,
Unquestion'd be His pity and His love."
“Where is thy favour'd haunt, Eternal Voice,
The region of Thy choice,
Owns Thine entire control?
Where storms are hurrying by:
Where torrents have their birth,
Mar the full burst of prayer;
And round us and beneath
Of winds across the steep,
From many a torrent rill-
For thought to do her part."
“The spot was so attractive to me, as well as the view of the surrounding country so charming, that I had great difficulty in tearing myself away from it. In the foreground, at my feet, was the Jordan flowing through its woods of tamarisks. On the other side rose gently the plain of Beisan surmounted by the high tell of that name. In the distance were the mountains of Gilboa-the whole stretch of which is seen, even as far as ancient Jezreel.”— Van de Velde's Travels in Syria and Palestine, vol. ii. p. 355.