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Which with majeftic rays fo brightly fhine,
That fhould my mind prefent an earth of gold,
As full of worldly joys as earth can held:
Sweet grace fo fills thy houfe, I'd grudge to fpare
One moment here, for thousand ages there.
No earthly object fhall my love confine,
That Being which poffeffes all, is mine,
My fpirit therefore rather would embrace
The meaneft office in his holy place,
And by the threshold of his house within,
Than fit in fplendour on a throne of fin,
In Jefus' courts I'd choose the lowest place,
At his faints' feet, so I might fee his face.
Yea, tho' my lamp of outward peace should burn
Moft brightly, yet I would inceffant mourn,
While in a wicked Mefech I fojourn.

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Ver. 11. For the Lord God is a fun and fhield: the Lord will give grace and glory; no good thing will he withhold from them that walk uprightly.

For God the Lord, whofe courts I love to haunt,
Is ev'ry thing that empty fouls can want;
A fun for light, a fhield for ftrength; yea, more,
On earth he gives his grace, in heav'n his glore.
This radiant fun, of life and light the fource;
Scatters the fhades by circumambient course;
Yea, guides bemifted fouls with heartfome beams,
And glorioufly irradiating gleams.

This maffy fhield is polifh'd bright with power,
For helping weaklings in a per❜lous hour.
Here's all that weary travellers would have,
A fun to cherish, and a fhield to fave.
Grace alfo here is given t' adorn the foul,
And yield to glory in the heav'nly pole.
All divine treafure to the faint is due;
Nothing's deny'd, if truth itself be true.

The treasure is fo vaft it can't be told;
Nothing that God can give, will God withhold.
To whom he doth his faving grace impart,
To them he gives himself, his hand, his heart:

Uprightnefs too of heart and life does fall
Unto their share, who having him, have all.
In them the grace he gives, he still regards ;.
Gives holiness, and then his gift rewards.
For to his own upright and divine brood

He's bound to grant ev'n all that's great and good,
By's own fure word, firm oath, and facred blood.

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Ver. 12. O Lord of hofts, bleffed is the man that trufleth in thee.

O then, Jehovah, God of armies ftrong,
To whom the powers of earth and heav'n belong;
How vaftly bleffed is the fixed man.

Who by a firm fiducial boldness can,

Through grace and strength dispensed from above,
So fweetly scan the height of divine love,
As to derive his comfort wholly thence,
And on this rock to found his confidence!
Whofe faith has rear'd up for a firm abode
A ftable building on a living God?

Who, fpoil'd of human props both great and small,
Does choose a tri-une deity for all?
What fcrolls of blifs are in this All inroll'd,
Is too fublime for feraph's to unfold.
Sift, human wisdom, in a deep amaze !
Let rapid floods of life his glory raise,
Till time be drown'd in his eternal praise.

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A fourfold Exercife for the Believer in his Lodging on earth.

1.

I. THE HOLY LAW.

QR,

The Ten Commandments, Exod. xx. 3-17..

No God but me thou fhalt adore. 2. No image frame to bow before. 3. My holy name take not in vain. 4. My facred fabbath don't profane..

5. To parents render due respect.

6. All murder fhun, and malice check.
7. From filth and whoredom base abstain;
8. From theft and all unlawful gain.

9. Falfe witnefs flee, and flandering spite; 10. Nor covet what's thy neighbour's right.

II.

The Unholy Heart, the direct opposite of God's holy and righteous Law, Rom. vii. 14.

OR,

The Knowledge of Sin by the Law, Rom. iii. 20.

My heart's to many gods a flave ;

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2. Of imagery an hideous cave. 3. An hoard of God dishon'ring crimes 4. A wafter base of holy times; 5. A throne of pride and felf-conceit; 6. A flaughter houfe of wrath and hate; 7. A cage of birds and thoughts unclean; 8. A den of thieves and frauds unfeen; 9. A heap of calumnies unfpent ; 10. A gulph of greed and difcontent.

III. The Glorious Gofpel;

OR,

Christ the end of the Law for Righteoufnefs, Rom. x. 4; and the abfolute need of this remedy inferred from the premises.

HENCE I conclude, and clearly fee,
There's by the law no life for me;
Which damns each foul to endless thrall
Whofe heart and life fulfil not all.
What fhall I do, unlefs for bail
I from the law to grace appeal?
She reigns through Jefus righteousness,
Which, giving juftice full redress,
On grace's door this motto grav'd,
Let fin be damn’d, and finners fav'd.'

O wisdom's deep mysterious way !
Lo, at this door I'll waiting ftay,
Till fin and hell both pafs away.
But in this blifs to fhew my part,
Grant, thro' thy law grav'd in my heart,
My life may fhew thy graving art.

IV. The Prayer of Faith.

Which may be conceived in the following words of a certain author:

Sim tuus in vita, tua fint mea funera, Chrifte;
Da, precor, imperii fceptra tenere tui.
Cur etenim moriens, tot vulnera fæva tulisti,
Si non fum regni portio parva tui ?
Cur rigido latuit tua vita inclufa fepulchro,
Si non eft mea mors morte fugata tua?
Ergo mihi certam præftes, O Chrifte, falutem ;
Meque tuo lotum fanguine, Chrifte, juva.

Which may be thus Englished:

Jefus I'm thine in life and death,

Oh let me conquering hold thy throne,
Why fhar'd the cross thy vital breath,
If not to make me fhare thy crown?

Why laid in jail of cruel grave,

If not thy death from death me free? Then, Lord, insure the bliss I crave,

Seal'd with thy blood, and fuccour me.

PART V.

The Believer's Soliloquy, efpecially in times of desertion, distress, affliction, &c.

SECT. I. The deferted Believer longing for perfect freedom from fin.

AH mournful cafe! what can afford

Contentment when an abfent Lord
Will now his kindness never prove
By fmiles of grace nor lines of love!
What heart can joy, what foul can fing,
While winter overruns the fpring!
I die, yet can't my death condole;
Lord, fave a dying, drooping foul.
In pain, yet unconcern'd I live,
And languish when I fhould believe.
Lord, if thou ceafe to come and stay,
My foul in fin will pine away.
In fin, whofe ill no tongue can tell,
To live is death, to die is hell;
O fave, if not from thrall's arrest,
Yet fave me, Lord, from fin at least.

This for his merit's fake I feek,

Whofe blood and wounds do mercy fpeak ;

Who left the rank of glorious choirs,
And heavenly flowers for earthly briers.

Our Sampson took an holy nap
Upon our feeble nature's lap;
He, wand'ring in a pilgrim's weed,
Did taste our griefs to help our need..

Earth's fury did upon him light;
How black was Herod's cruel fpite,

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