I

XV. The Enjoyment of CHRIST: or,
Delight in Worship.

FAR

AR from my Thoughts vain World begone,
Let my religious Hours alone;

Fain would my Eyes my Saviour fee;
I wait a Vifit, LORD, from Thee.

2 My Heart grows warm with holy Fire,
And kindles with a pure Defire :
Come, my dear Jesus, from above,
And feed my Soul with heav'nly Love.
3 [The Trees of Life immortal stand
In fragrant Rows at thy right Hand,
And in sweet Murmurs by their Side
Rivers of Blifs perpetual glide.

5

4 Hafte then, but with a smiling Face,
And spread the Table of thy Grace:
Bring down a Taste of Truth divine,
And cheer my Heart with facred Wine.]
Blefs'd Jesus, what delicious Fare!
How sweet thy Entertainments are!
Never did Angels taste above
Redeeming Grade, and dying Love.
6 Hail, great IMMANUEL, all divine!
In thee thy Father's Glories fhine;
Thou brighteft, fweeteft, fairest One,
That Eyes have feen, or Angels known.

XVI. Part the Second.

7 LORD, what a Heav'n of faving Grace Shines thro' the Beauties of thy Face,

And lights our Paffion to a Flame!
LORD, how we love thy charming Name.

When I can fay, my GoD is mine,
When I can feel thy Glories fhine,
I tread the World beneath my Feet,
And all that Earth calls Good or Great.

9 While fuch a Scene of facred Joys ©
Our raptur❜d Eyes and Souls employs,
Here we could fit, and gaze away
A long and everlasting Day.

to Well, we shall quickly pafs the Night,
To the fair Coafts of perfect Light:
Then fhall our joyful Senfes rove

O'er the dear Object of our Love.

V

11 [There fhall we drink full Draughts of Blifs,
And pluck new Life from heav'nly Trees!
Yet now and then, dear LORD, bestow
A Drop of Heav'n on Worms below.

12 Send Comforts down from thy right Hand,
While we pass thro' this barren Land,
And in thy Temple let us fee

A Glimpse of Love, a Glimpíe of Thee:]

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XVII. GOD's Eternity.

RISE, rife, my Soul, and leave the Ground;

Stretch all thy Thoughts abroad,

And rouse up ev'ry tuneful Sound
To praise th' eternal God.

2 Long ere the lofty Skies were spread,
JEHOVAH fill'd his Throne,
Or Adam form'd, or Angels made,
The Maker liv'd alone.

3 His boundless Years can ne'er decrease, But ftill maintain their Prime; Eternity's his Dwelling-Place,

4

5

And ever is his Time.

While like a Tide our Minutes flow

The Present and the Past,

He fills his own immortal Now,

And fees our Ages wafte.

The Sea and Sky must perish too,

And vaft Deftruction come!

The Creatures-look! how old they grow,

And wait their fiery Doom.

6 Well, let the Sea fhrink all away,

And Flame melt down the Skies; My GOD fhall live an endless Day, When th' old Creation dies.

2

XVIII. The Ministry of Angels.

HIGH on a Hill of dazling Light,
The King of Glory spreads his Seat,
And Troops of Angels ftretch for Flight,
Stand waiting round his awful Feet.

*

go,

Gabriel my "Go, faith the LORD, "Salute the Virgin's fruitful Womb; "Make hafte, † ye Cherubs, down below, Sing and proclaim the Saviour come.”

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3 Here a bright Squadron † leaves the Skies, And thick around Elifha ftands;

Anon a heav'nly Soldier flies,

And breaks the Chains from Peter's || Hands.
4 Thy winged Troops, O GoD of Hofts,
Wait on thy wand'ring Church below;
Here we are failing to thy Coafts,
Let Angels be our Convoy too.

§ LORD?

and come;

5 Are they not all thy Servants
At thy Command they go
With cheerful Hafte obey thy Word,
And guard thy Children to their Home.

XIX. Our frail Bodies, and GoD our
Preferver.

LET others boaft how ftrong they be,

Nor Death nor Danger fear;

But we'll confefs, O LORD, to thee,
What feeble Things we are.

2 Fresh as the Grafs our Bodies ftand,
And flourish bright and gay;

A blafting Wind fweeps o'er the Land,
And fades the Grafs away.

3 Our Life contains a thousand Springs,
And dies if one be gone:

Strange! that a Harp of thousand Strings
Should keep in Tune fo long.

4 But 'tis our God fupports our Frame,
The GOD that built us firft;
Salvation to th' Almighty Name,
That rear'd us from the Duft.

5 [He spoke, and ftraight our Hearts and Brains In all their Motions rofe;

"Let Blood, faid he, flow round the Veins; " And round the Veins it flows.]

6 While we have Breath, or ufe our Tongues, Our Maker we'll adore;

His Spirit moves our heaving Lungs,

Or they would breath no more.