Jehovah's family—and bind secure,
As with a threefold cord, the Spirit's work,
The Saviour's name, the Father's love, in one
Divine-eternal-matchless covenant scheme!
Hail, ransomed sinners, called to be saints!
Sing of the grace which stopped your sinful course;
Admire its sovereignty, and own its power.
In vain the voice of man, vain all the calls
Of Providence, till Jesus spake with power:
Then, with a broken heart and trembling voice,
"Speak, Lord, thy servant hears!" your heart exclaimed.
He spake, and quick'ning power came with His word,
Which melted, pardoned, and revived the soul:
He called-yea, still He calls the chosen race-
Away from earth and sin-to holiness.
His call imparts the power to obey His voice,
And draws the soul to love and trust His name.
That trust is faith in exercise, which proves
Election-makes salvation sure, and bids
The trembling soul dismiss his slavish fear.
Again He calls to invite his ransomed home,
Made meet to enjoy the presence of their Lord:
He owns them heirs of glory and of God,
Gives them a seat at His right hand above,
To drink full draughts of everlasting bliss!
LIKE precious faith, oh, may my soul receive!
And by it live upon the Son of God.
'Tis this alone brings heavenly blessings near-
O'ercomes the world-explores the sacred mines
Of covenant love-and full salvation claims.
A victor of renown, whose potent hand
Subdues each foe-gains liberty divine-
And in its train brings glory, joy, and peace.
'Tis precious Faith which solves all mysteries-
Sees through the darkest cloud, makes sorrows light,
And walks, and works, and justifies the soul.
Such is the faith of God's elect, and such
Its grand exploits in all the chosen race.
"Tis God the Father's gift-Christ is its strength-
And all its acts are by the Holy Ghost.
"Dear Lord, increase my faith!"
AT Jesus' feet, where Mary sat and wept,
I would be always found; and there, like her,
Pour out the affection of a melted soul
In godly sorrow, mixed with holy joy.
Or, if from thence I move to Calvary,
Oh! may His wounded side and precious blood
Engage my thoughts-dissolve my stony heart-
And bid repentance flow in tears of love.
Believing views of Jesus crucified,
And pardon sealed with His atoning blood,
Must banish legal dread, but while the host
Of murderous crimes exist within the heart,
Their constant rage is cause of constant grief.
Oh! Holy Spirit, lead my soul to Christ,—
Reveal His glories, and apply His blood
To work in me repentance unto life!
WHAT Wondrous grace! who knows its full extent?
A creature, dust and ashes, speaks with God-
Tells all his woes - enumerates his wants-
Yea, pleads with Deity, and gains relief.
'Tis prayer, yes, 'tis "effectual fervent prayer,"
Puts dignity on worms-proves life divine-
Makes demons tremble-breaks the darkest cloud,
And with a princely power prevails with God!
And shall this privilege become a task?
My God, forbid! pour out thy Spirit's grace,
Draw me by love, and teach me how to pray.
Yea, let thy holy unction from above
Beget, extend, maintain my intercourse
With Father, Son, and Spirit, Israel's God,
Until petitions are exchanged for praise.
HALL! ransomed souls, partakers of rich grace!
Soon you will come to Zion's heights of bliss;
For God has sworn you shall hold on your way.
He'll never change His mind, nor suffer fears-
Nor foes-nor sins-to stop you short of heaven.
Could but one soul for whom the Saviour died
Be missing there, the vacant seat—the harp
Unstrung-the useless crown would grieve all heaven,
And there proclaim a disappointed God!
No! He has sworn by two Immutables,
That Christ shall see the travail of His soul:
The Father's covenant love-the Saviour's blood-
The Holy Spirit's grace-are pledged in this
Sweet truth, "The righteous shall hold on his way."
IRONS.
No eye hath seen, nor ear hath heard, nor words,
Nor thoughts, nor mortal powers can comprehend
The glory that awaits the ransomed soul.
But, when his glad dismission is obtained
From all below, he wings his way on high,
To see, and know, and share the bliss of heaven.
Made free from sorrow
And owned an heir of God-joint-heir with Christ, He claims an entrance to his Father's house.
See how the everlasting doors fly back,
The grand, majestic scene unfolds, the harps—
The shouts the hallelujahs of the throng
Salute, and welcome home the child of God.
With kindred spirits once beloved on earth,
He ranges o'er the plains of bliss-recounts
The wonders grace has wrought—and glory finds
In Jesus' unveiled, lovely countenance,
No more to lose the captivating sight.
But, dwelling near the throne, absorbed in bliss,
He looks-and loves-and sings eternally.
With such a prospect opening to our view,
Shall fading flowers and paltry toys-shall gold-
Or pearls-or crowns allure our heaven-born souls?
Away, ye sordid things! too long beloved!
Oh! Holy Spirit, draw my heart away
To act in character,- to walk with God-
To trample on the world-reach out-press on-
Aspire to gain the prize, and wear the crown!
"WHAT IS GLORY?"
O WHO can tell what glory is?
What constitutes eternal bliss?
What does the perfect throng employ?
Creating everlasting joy.
Is it the atmosphere of love,
Inhaled by the redeemed above?
Is it the victory of grace,
Sung by the conquered, crownèd race?
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