And meekly wait my lt remove, Seeking only growth in love.

No bliss I seek, but to fulfil
In life, in death, thy lovely will;
No succors in my woes I want,
Save what thou art pleased to grant.

Our days are number'd, let us spare
Our anxious hearts a needless care:
"Tis thine to number out our days;
Ours to give them to thy praise.

Love is our only business here,
Love, simple, constant, and sincere ;
O blessed days thy servants see,
Spent, O Lord! in pleasing thee!

LOVE FAITHFUL IN THE ABSENCE OF
THE BELOVED.

In vain ye woo me to your harmless joys,
Ye pleasant bowers, remote from strife and noise;
Your shades, the witnesses of many a vow,
Breathed forth in happier days are irksome now;
Denied that smile 'twas once my heaven to see,
Such scenes, such pleasures, are all past with me.
In vain he leaves me, I shall love him still;
And though mourn, not murmur at his will;
I have no cause-an object all divine,
Might well grow weary of a soul like mine;
Yet pity me great God! forlorn, alone,
Heartless and hopeless, life and love all gone.

LOVE PURE AND FERVENT.
JEALOUS, and with love o'erflowing,
God demands a fervent heart;
Grace and bounty still bestowing,
Calls us to a grateful part.

Oh, then, with supreme affection
His paternal will regard!
If it cost us some dejection,
Every sigh has its reward.

Perfect love has power to soften

Cares that might our peace destroy, Nay, does more-transforms them often, Changing sorrow into joy.

Sovereign love appoints the measure,
And the number of our pains;
And is pleased when we find pleasure
In the trials he ordains.

THE ENTIRE SURRENDER. PEACE has unveil'd her smiling face, And wooes thy soul to her embrace, Enjoy'd with ease, if thou refrain From earthly love, else sought in vain; She dwells with all who truth prefer, But seeks not them who seek not her. Yield to the Lord with simple heart, All that thou hast, and all thou art;

Renounce all strength but strength divine,
And peace shall be forever thine:
Behold the path which I have trod,
My path, till I go home to God.

THE PERFECT SACRIFICE.

I PLACE an offering at thy shrine,
From taint and blemish clear,
Simple and pure in its design,
Of all that I hold dear.

I yield thee back thy gifts again,
Thy gifts which most 1 prize;
Desirous only to retain

The notice of thine eyes.

But if, by thine adored decree,
That blessing be denied;
Resign'd, and unreluctant, see
My every wish subside.

Thy will in all things I approve,
Exalted or cast down;

Thy will in every state I love,
And even in thy frown.

GOD HIDES HIS PEOPLE.

To lay the soul that loves him low,
Becomes the Only-wise;

To hide beneath a veil of woe,

The children of the skies.

Man, though a worm, would yet be great; Though feeble, would seem strong, Assumes an independent state,

By sacrilege and wrong.

Strange the reverse, which, once abased,
The haughty creature proves!

He feels his soul a barren waste,
Nor dares affirm he loves.

Scorn'd by the thoughtless and the vain,
To God he presses near;
Superior to the world's disdain,
And happy in its sneer.

Oh welcome, in his heart he says,
Humility and shame!
Farewell the wish for human praise,
The music of a name!

But will not scandal mar the good

That I might else perform?
And can God work it, if he would,
By so despised a worm?

Ah. vainly anxious!-leave the Lord
To rule thee, and dispose;
Sweet is the mandate of his word,
And gracious all he does.

He draws from human littleness
His grandeur and renown;
And generous hearts with joy confess
The triumph all his own.

Down then with self-exalting thoughts;
Thy faith and hope employ,

To welcome all that he allots,

And suffer shame with joy.

No longer, then, thou wilt encroach
On his eternal right;
And he shall smile at thy approach,
And make thee his delight.

THE SECRETS OF DIVINE LOVE ARE TO BE KEPT.

SUN! stay thy course, this moment stay-
Suspend the o'erflowing tide of day,
Divulge not such a love as mine,
Ah! hide the mystery divine;

Lest man, who deems my glory shame,
Should learn the secret of my flame.

O night! propitious to my views,
Thy sable awning wide diffuse;
Conceal alike my joy and pain.
Nor draw thy curtain back again,
Though morning, by the tears she shows,
Seems to participate my woes.

Ye stars! whose faint and feeble fires
Express my languishing desires.
Whose slender beams pervade the skies,
As silent as my secret sighs,
Those emanations of a soul,
That darts her fires beyond the Pole;
Your rays, that scarce assist the sight,
That pierce, but not displace the night,
That shine indeed, but nothing show
Of all those various scenes below,
Bring no disturbance, rather prove
Incentives to a sacred love.

Thou moon! whose never-failing course
Bespeaks a providential force,
Go, tell the tidings of my flame
To Him who calls the stars by name;
Whose absence kills, whose presence cheers;
Who blots, or brightens, all my years.

While, in the blue abyss of space,
Thine orb performs its rapid race;
Still whisper in his listening ears
The language of my sighs and tears;
Tell him, I seek him, far below,
Lost in a wilderness of woe.

Ye thought-composing, silent hours,
Diffusing peace o'er all my powers;
Friends of the pensive. who conceal,
In darkest shades the flames I feel;
To you I trust and safely may,
The love that wastes my strength away.

In sylvan scenes and caverns rude,
I taste the sweets of solitude;
Retired indeed, but not alone.
I share them with a spouse unknown,
Who hides me here from envious eyes,
From all intrusion and surprise.
Imbowering shades and dens profound!
Where echo rolls the voice around;
Mountains! whose elevated heads
A moist and misty veil o'erspreads;
Disclose a solitary bride

To him I love-to none beside.

Ye rills, that, murmuring all the way,
Among the polish'd pebbles stray;
Creep silently along the ground,
Lest, drawn by that harmonious sound,
Some wanderer, whom I would not meet,
Should stumble on my loved retreat.
Enamell'd meads, and hillocks green,
And streams that water all the scene,
Ye torrents, loud in distant ears,
Ye fountains, that receive my tears,
Ah! still conceal, with caution due,
A charge I trust to none but you!
If, when my pain and grief increase
I seem to enjoy the sweetest peace,
It is because I find so fair
The charming object of my care,
That I can sport and pleasure make
Of torment suffer'd for his sake.

Ye meads and groves, unconscious things!
Ye know not whence my pleasure springs;
Ye know not, and ye cannot know,
The source from which my sorrows flow:
The dear sole cause of all I feel,-
He knows, and understands them well.
Ye deserts, where the wild beasts rove,
Scenes sacred to my hours of love;
Ye forests, in whose shades I stray,
Benighted under burning day;
Ah! whisper not how blest am I,
Nor while I live, nor when I die.

Ye lambs, who sport beneath these shades,
And bound along the mossy glades;
Be taught a salutary fear,

And cease to bleat when I am near;
The wolf may hear your harmless cry,
Whom ye should dread as much as I.
How calm, amid these scenes, my mind!
How perfect is the peace I find!
Oh hush, be still, my every part,
My tongue, my pulse, my beating heart!
That love, aspiring to its cause,
May suffer not a moment's pause.
Ye swift-finn'd nations, that abide
In seas, as fathomless as wide;
And, unsuspicious of a snare,
Pursue at large your pleasures there;
Poor sportive fools! how soon does man
Your heedless ignorance trepan.

Away! dive deep into the brine,
Where never yet sunk plummet line;
Trust me, the vast leviathan
Is merciful compared with man;
Avoid his arts, forsake the beach,
And never play within his reach.
My soul her bondage ill endures
I pant for liberty like yours;
I long for that immense profound,
That knows no bottom and no bound;
Lost in infinity, to prove
The incomprehensible of love.
Ye birds, that lessen as ye fly,
And vanish in the distant sky;
To whom yon airy waste belongs,
Resounding with your cheerful songs;
Haste to escape from human sight;
Fear less the vulture and the kite.

How blest and how secure am I,
When quitting earth, I soar on high;
When lost, like you I disappear,
And float in a sublimer sphere;
Whence falling, within human view,
I am ensnared, and caught like you!
Omniscient God, whose notice deigns
To try the heart and search the reins,
Compassionate the numerous woes,
I dare not, e'en to thee, disclose;
Oh save me from the cruel hands
Of men, who fear not thy commands!
Love, all-subduing and divine,
Care for a creature truely thine;
Reign in a heart, disposed to own
No sovereign but thyself alone;
Cherish a bride who cannot rove,
Nor quit thee for a meaner love!

THE VICISSITUDES EXPERIENCED IN
THE CHRISTIAN LIFE.

I SUFFER fruitless anguish day by day,
Each moment, as it passes, marks my pain;
Scarce knowing whither, doubtfully I stray,
And see no end of all that I sustain.

The more I strive the more I am withstood;
Anxiety increasing every hour,

My spirit finds no rest, performs no good,
And nought remains of all my former power.

My peace of heart is fled. I know not where;
My happy hours, like shadows pass'd away;
Their sweet remembrance doubles all my care,
Night darker seems, succeeding such a day.
Dear faded joys and impotent regret,
What profit is there in incessant tears?
Oh thou, whom, once beheld, we ne'er forget
Reveal thy love, and banish all my fears!
Alas he flies me-treats me as his foe,
Views not my sorrows, hears not when I plead;
Woe such as mine, despised neglected woe,
Unless it shortens life, is vain indeed.

Pierced with a thousand wounds, I yet survive ;
My pangs are keen, but no complaint transpires;
And while in terrors of thy wrath I live,
Hell seems to loose its less tremendous fires.
Has hell a pain I would not gladly bear,
So thy severe displeasure might subside?
Hopeless of ease. I seem already there,
My life extinguish'd, and yet death denied.

Is this the joy so promised-this the love,
The unchanging love, so sworn in better days?
Ah! dangerous glories! shown me, but to prove
How lovely thou, and I how rash to gaze.
Why did I see them? had I still remain'd
Untaught, still ignorant how fair thou art,
My humbler wishes I had still obtain'd,
Nor known the torments of a doubting heart.
Deprived of all, yet feeling no desires,
Whence then, I cry, the pangs that I sustain ?
Dubious and uninform'd my soul inquires,
Ought she to cherish or shake off her pain?

Suffering, I suffer not-sincerely love.
Yet feel no touch of that enlivening flame;
As chance inclines me, unconcern I move,
All times, and all events, to me the same.

I search my heart, and not a wish is there
But burns with zeal that hated self may fall;
Such is the sad disquietude I share,

A sea of doubts, and self the source of all

I ask not life, nor do I wish to die;
And, if thine hand accomplish not my cure,
I would not purchase with a single sigh
A free discharge from all that I endure.

I groan in chains, yet want not a release;
Am sick, and know not the distemper d part;
Am just as void of purpose as of peace;
Have neither plan, nor fear, nor hope, nor heart.

My claim to life, though sought with earnest care
No light within me, or without me shows;
Once I had faith, but now in self-despair
Find my chief cordial and my best repose.

My soul is a forgotten thing; she sinks,
Sinks and is lost, without a wish to rise;
Feels an indifference she abhors and thinks
Her name erased forever from the skies.
Language affords not my distress a name,—
Yet it is real and no sickly dream;
'Tis love inflicts it; though to feel that flame
Is all I know of happiness supreme.

When love departs, a chaos wide and vast,
And dark as hell, is open'd in the soul;
When love returns, the gloomy scene is past,
No tempests shake her, and no fears control.
Then tell me why these ages of delay ?
Oh love, all excellent, once more appear:
Disperse the shades, and snatch me into day
From this abyss of night, these floods of fear!

No-love is angry, will not now endure
A sigh of mine, or suffer a complaint: [eure;
He smites me, wounds me, and withholds the
Exhausts iny powers, and leaves me sick and

faint.

He wounds, and hides the hand that gave the blow;

He flies, he re-appears, and wounds again-
Was ever heart that loved thee treated so ?
Yet I adore thee, though it seem in vain.

And wilt thou leave me, whom, when lost and blind.

Thou didst distinguish and vouchsafe to chocss.
Before thy laws were written in my mind.
While yet the world had all my thoughts and
views?

Now leave me, when, enamor'd of thy laws,
I make thy glory my supreme delight?
Now blot me from thy register and cause
A faithful soul to perish from thy sight?

What can have caused the change which I de-
Is it to prove me, if my heart be true? [plore!
Permit me then, while prostrate I adore,
To draw, and place its picture in thy view.
"Tis thine without reserve most simply thine;
So given to thee, that it is not my own;

A willing captive of thy grace divine;
And loves, and seeks thee, for thyself alone.
Pain cannot move it. danger cannot scare;
Pleasure and wealth, in its esteem, are dust;
It loves thee, e'en when least inclined to spare
Its tenderest feelings, and avows thee just.

'Tis all thine own; my spirit is so too,
An undivided offering at thy shrine;
It seeks thy glory with no double view,
Thy glory with no secret bent to mine.

Love, holy love! and art thou not severe.
To slight me,
thus devoted. and thus fix'd?
Mine is an everlasting ardor, clear
From all self-bias, generous and unmix'd.

But I am silent, seeing what I see

And fear with cause, that I am self-deceived;
Not e'en my faith is from suspicion free,
And that I love seems not to be believed.

Live thou and reign forever, glorious Lord!
My last, least offering I present thee now-
Renounce me. leave me, and be still adored!
Slay me, my God, and I applaud the blow.

WATCHING UNTO GOD IN THE NIGHT
SEASON.

SLEEP at last has fled these eyes,
Nor do I regret his flight,
More alert my spirits rise,
And my heart is free and light.

Nature silent all around,
Not a single witness near;
God as soon as sought is found,
And the flame of love burns clear.

Interruption, all day long,
Checks the current of my joys;
Creatures press me with a throng,
And perplex me with their noise.
Undisturb'd I muse all night,
On the first Eternal Fair;
Nothing there obstructs delight,
Love is renovated there.

Life, with its perpetual stir,
Proves a foe to love and me;
Fresh entanglements occur-
Comes the night and sets me free.

Never more, sweet sleep, suspend
My enjoyments, always new:
Leave me to possess my friend;
Other eyes and hearts subdue.
Hush the world that I may wake
To the taste of pure delights;
Oh the pleasures I partake-
God, the partner of my nights!
David, for the selfsame cause,
Night preferr'd to busy day;
Hearts whom heavenly beauty draws.
Wish the glaring sun away.
Sleep, self-lovers is for you-
Souls that love celestial know
Fairer scenes by night can view
Than the sun could ever show.

ON THE SAME.

SEASON of my purest pleasure,
Sealer of observing eyes!
When in larger, freer measure,

I can commune with the skies;
While, beneath thy shade extended,
Weary man forgets his woes,
I, my daily trouble ended,
Find, in watching, my repose.
Silence all around prevailing,

Nature hush'd in slumber sweet,
No rude noise mine ears assailing,
Now my God and I can meet:
Universal nature slumbers,

And my soul partakes the calm, Breathes her ardor out in numbers, Plaintive song or lofty psalm.

Now my passion, pure and holy,

Shines and burns without restraint: Which the day's fatigue and folly

Cause to languish, dim and faint: Charming hours of relaxation!

How I dread the ascending sun! Surely idle conversation

Is an evil match'd by none.

Worldly prate and babble hurt me;
Unintelligible prove;

Neither teach me nor divert me;

I have ears for none but love.
Me they rude esteem and foolish,
Hearing my absurd replies;
I have neither art's fine polish,
Nor the knowledge of the wise.
Simple souls and unpolluted

By conversing with the great,
Have a mind and taste ill suited
To their dignity and state;
All their talking, reading, writing,
Are but talents misapplied;
Infants' prattle I delight in,
Nothing human choose beside.
"Tis the secret fear of sinning
Checks my tongue, or I should say,
When I see the night beginning,
I am glad of parting day:
Love this gentle admonition
Whispers soft within my breast:
"Choice befits not thy condition,
Acquiescence suits thee best."

Henceforth, the repose and pleasure
Night affords me I resign;

And thy will shall be the measure,
Wisdom infinite! of mine:

Wishing is but inclination

Quarrelling with thy decrees; Wayward nature finds the occasion'Tis her folly and disease.

Night, with its sublime enjoyments,
Now no longer will I choose;
Nor the day, with its employments,
Irksome as they seem, refuse;
Lessons of a God's inspiring
Neither time nor place impedes;
From our wishing and desiring
Our unhappiness proceeds.