Now I can fix my thoughts above,
Amidst their flatt'ring charms,
Till the dear LORD that hath my
Shall call me to his arms.
So Gabriel, at his King's command,
From you celestial hill,
Flies downward to our worthless land,
His soul points upward still.
He glides along by mortal things,
Without a thought of love,
Fulfils his task, and spreads his wings,
To reach the realms above.
HYMN LXXX. P. M.
The Fairest, and the Only Beloved.
ONOUR to that diviner Ray
That first allur'd my eyes away
From ev'ry mortal fair;
All the gay things that held my sight
Seem but the twinkling sparks of night,
And languishing in doubtful light,
Die at the morning-star.
Whatever speaks the Godhead great,
And fit to be ador'd,
Whatever makes the creature sweet,
And worthy of my passion, meet
Harmonious in my LORD. A thousand graces ever raise And bloom upon his face; A thousand arrows from his eyes Shoot through my heart with dear surprise, And guard around the place.
All nature's art shall never cure
The heav'nly pains I found,
And 'tis beyond all beauty's power
To make another wound :
Earthly beauties grow and fade;
Nature heals the wounds she made,
But charms so much divine
Hold a long empire of the heart;
What Heav'n has join'd shall never part,
And JESUS must be mine.
In vain the envious shades of night,
Or flatteries of the day,
Would vail his image from my sight,
Or tempt my soul away;
JESUS is all my waking theme,
His lovely form meets ev'ry dream.
And knows not to depart:
The passion reigns
Through all my veins,
And floating round the crimson stream
Still finds him at my heart.
Dwell there, for ever dwell, my Love;
Here I confine my sense;
Nor dare my wildest wishes rove,
Nor stir a thought from thence.
Amidst thy glories and thy grace
Let all my remnant-minutes past;
Grant, thou EVERLASTING FAIR,
Grant my soul a mansion there:
My soul aspires to see thy face,
Though life should for the vision pay:
So rivers run to meet the sea,
And lose there nature in th' embrace.
Thou art my Ocean, thou my God!
In thee the passions of the mind,
With joys and freedom uncontin'd,
Exult, and spread their pow'rs abroad.
Not all the glitt'ring things on high
Can make my heaven, if thou remove;
I shall be tir'd and long to die;
Life is a pain without thy love;
Who could ever bear to be
Curst with immortality
Among the stars, but far from thee?
HYMN LXXXI. L. M
Love on a Cross, and on a Throne.
Now let my faith grow strong, and rise,
LORD in all his love;
Look back to hear his dying cries,
Then mount and see his throne above.
See where he languish'd on the cross;
Beneath my sins he groan'd and dy'd:
See where he sits to plead my cause
By his almighty Father's side.
If I behold his. bleeding heart,
There love in floods of sorrow reigns,
He triumphs o'er the killing smart.
And buys my pleasure with his pains.
Or if I climb th' eternal hills
Where the dear CONQUEROR sits enthron'd,
Still in his heart compassion dwells,
Near the memorials of his wound.
How shall a pardon'd rebel show
How much I love my dying GOD?
LORD, here I banish ev'ry foe,
I hate the sins that cost thy blood.
I hold no more commerce with hell;
My dearest lusts shall all depart;
But let thine image ever dwell
Stampt as a seal upon my heart.
HYMN LXXXII. L. M.
A preparatory Thought for the Lord's
WHAT heav'nly MAN, or lovely GoD,
Comes marching downward from the
Array'd in garments roll'd in blood,
With joy and pity in his eyes?
The LORD! the SAVIOUR! Yes, 'tis he,
I know him by the smiles he wears;
Dear glorious MAN that dy'd for me,
Drench'd deep in agonies and tears!
Lo, he reveals his shining breast;
I own those wounds, and I adore:
Lo, he prepares a royal feast,
Sweet fruit of the sharp pangs he bore.
Whence flow these favours so divine!
LORD! why so lavish of thy blood?
Why for such earthly souls as mine,
This heav'nly flesh, this sacred food?
'Twas his own love that made him bleed, That nail'd him to the cursed tree; 'Twas his own love this table spread For such unworthy worms as we.
Then let us taste the SAIVOUR's love:
Come, Faith, and feed upon the LORD:
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