And promis'd, by thy facred Deity,
His King and covenanted God to be;
Therefore my hopes are center'd all in thee.
Ver. 9. Behbold, O God, our field; and look upon the face of thine anointed.
Omnipotent, whofe armour none can wield,
Zion's great buckler and defenfive fhield;
Thy pure untainted eyes cannot behold
Deformed mortals in their finful mold,
Unless their names be graved on the breast
Of Zion's holy confecrated Priest.
When they his white and glorious garments wear,
Then fin and guilt both wholly disappear:
Because o'erwhelmed in the crimson flood,
And ocean of a dying Surety's blood:
They also, vefted with his radiant grace,
Reflect the lufture of his holy face.
They're not themfelves now, but divinely trim;
For wholly what they are, they are in him:
And hence JEHOVAH's all-difcerning eye
Cannot in them efpy deformity.
Then look on him, Lord; and in him on me.
Ver. 10. For a day in thy courts is better than a thousand:
I bad rather be a door-keeper in the boufe of my God,
than to dwell in the tents of wickedness.
May I poffefs as thy domeftic child,
The houfe that by Jehovah's name is ftyl'd:
For royal glories deck those courts of thine,
Which with majeftic rays fo brightly fhine,
That fhould my mind present an earth of gold,
As full of worldly joys as earth can hold;
Sweet grace fo fills my houfe, I'd grudge to fpare,
One moment here, for thoufand 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 houfe within,
Than fit in fplendor on a throne of fin.
In Jefus' courts I'd chufe the lowest place,
At his faints feet, fo I might fee his face.
Yea, though my lamp of outward peace should burn
Moft brightly, yet I would inceffant mourn,
While in a wicked Mefech I fjourn.
Ver. 11. For the Lord God is a fun and field; the Lord will give grace and glory: no good thing will be with-bold 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's circumambient courfe;
Yea, guides bemifted fouls with heartfome beams,
And glorioufly irradiating gleams.
This maffy fhield is polifh'd bright with pow'r,
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 giv'n t'adorn the foul,
And yield to glory in the heav'nly pole.
All divine treasure 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 with-hold.
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 ftill 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 word, firm oath, and facred blood.
Ver. 12. O Lord of bofts, bleffed is the man that trufteth
O then, Jehovah, God of armies ftrong,
To whom the pow'rs of earth and heav'n belong;
How vaftly bleffed is the fixed man,
Who by a firm fiducial boldness can,
Through grace and strength difpenfed from above,
So fweetly fcan 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 chufe a triune Deity for all?
What fcrolls of blifs are in this all inroll'd,
Is too fublime for feraphs 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.
I. The HOLY LAW; Or,
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 Sabbath don't profane. 5. To parents render due refpect. 6. All murder fhun and malice check. From filth and whoredom base abstain. 8. From theft and all unlawful gain. 9. Falle witness flee, and fland'ring spite. 10. Nor covet what's thy neighbour's right.
II. The UNHOLY HEART, the direct oppofite to God's law, Rom. vii. 14.; Or,
The Knowledge of Sin by the Law, Rom. iii. 20.
My heart's to many gods a flave,
Of imagery a hideous cave,
3. An hoard of God-difhon'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. An heap of calumnies unfpent. 10. A gulph of greed and difcontent.
III. The GLORIOUS GOSPEL; Or,
CHRIST the End of the Law for Righteoufnefs, Rom. x. 4.
And the abfolute Need of this Remedy inferred from the Premiffes.
ENCE I conclude, and clearly fee,
There's by the law no life for me;
Which damns each foul to endless thrall,
Whose heart and life fulfils not all.
What fhall I do, unless for bail,
I from the law to grace appeal?
She reigns through Jefus' righteoufnefs,
Which giving juftice full redrefs,
On grace's door this motto grav'd,
Let fin be damn'd, and finners fav'd.
O wifdom's deep myfterious 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, through 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
UM tuus in vita, tua funt mea funera, Chrifte;
Da, precor, imperii fceptra tenere tui.
Cur etenim, moriens, tot vulnera feva tulifti,
Si non fum regni portio parva tui?
Cur rigido latuit tua vita inclufo fepulchro,
Si non eft mea mors morte fugata tua? Ergo mibi certam praftes, O Christe, falutem ; Meque tuo lotum fanguine, Chrifte, juva
Which may be thus Englished.
Jefus, I'm thine in life and death;
Oh let me conqu'ring 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, infure the blifs I crave,
Seal'd with thy blood, and fuccour me.
The BELIEVER'S SOLILOQUY:
In Times of Defertion, Temptation, Affliction, &c.
The Deferted BELIEVER longing for perfect Freedom
AH! mournful cafe! what can afford
Contentment, when an abfent Lord
Will now his kindness neither prove
By fmiles of grace, nor lines of love?
What heart can joy, what foul can fing,
While winter over-runs the spring?
I die, yet can't my death condole :
Lord, fave a dying, drooping foul.
In pain, yet unconcern'd, I live;
And languifh when I fhould believe.
Lord, if thou ceafe to come and ftay
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.
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