The moment we believe, 'tis ours ;
And if love with all our pow'rs
The God from whom it came,
And if we serve with hearts sincere,
'Tis still discernible and clear.
An undisputed claim.
But ah! if foul and wilful sin
Stain and dishonor us within,
Farewell the joy we knew ;
Again the slaves of Nature's sway,
I lab'rinths of our own we stray,
Without a guide or clue.
The chaste and pure who fear to grieve
The gracious Spirit they receive,
His work distinctly trace;
And, strong in undissembling love,
Boldly assert and clearly prove,
Their hearts his dwelling-place.
Oh messenger of dear delight,
Whose voice dispels the deepest night,
Sweet peace-proclaiming Dove!
With the at hand to soothe our pains
No wish unsatisfied remains,
No task, but that of love.
"Tis love unites what sin divides;
The centre where all bliss resides;
To which the soul once brought,
Reclining on the first great Cause,
From his abounding sweetness draws
Peace passing human thought.
Sorrow foregoes its nature there,
And life assumes a tranquil air,
Divested of its woes;
There sov❜reign goodness soothes the breast,
Till then incapable of rest,
DIVINE LOVE ENDURES NO RIVAL.
LOVE is the Lord whom I obey,
Whose will transported I perform;
The centre of my rest, my stay,
Love's all in all to me, myself a worm.
For uncreated charms I burn,
Oppress'd by slavish fear no more: For one, in whom I may discern,
Ev'n when he frowns, a sweetness I adore.
He little loves Him, who complains,
And finds him rig'rous and severe;
His heart is sordid, and he feigns,
Though loud in boasting of a soul sincere.
Love causes grief, but 'tis to move
And stimulate the slumb'ring mind;
And he has never tasted Love,
Who shuns a pang so graciously design'd.
Sweet is the cross, above all sweets,
To souls enamour'd with thy smiles!
The keenest woe life ever meets,
Love strips of all its terrors, and beguiles.
'Tis just, that God should not be dear,
Where self engrosses all the thought,
And groans and murmurs make it clear,
Whatever else is loved, the Lord is not
The love of Thee flows just as much
As that of ebbing self subsides;
Our hearts-their scantiness is such-
Bear not the conflict of two rival tides.
Both cannot govern in one soul;
Then let self-love be dispossess'd;
The love of God deserves the whole,
And will not dwell with so despised a guest.
Source of love, and light of day,
Tear me from myself away!
Ev'ry view and thought of mine,
Cast into the mould of thine
Teach, O teach this faithless heart,
A consistent constant part;
Or, if it must live to grow
More rebellious, break it now!
Is it thus that I requite
Grace and goodness infinite?
Ev'ry trace of ev'ry boon
Cancell'd and erased so soon!
Can I grieve thee, whom I love ;
Thee, in whom I live and move?
If my sorrow touch thee still,
Save me from so great an ill !
Oh! th' oppressive, irksome weight,
Felt in an uncertain state;
Comfort, peace, and rest, adieu,
Should I prove at last untrue!
Still I choose thee, follow still
Ev'ry notice of thy will.
But, unstable, strangely weak,
Still let slip the good I seek.
Self-confiding wretch, I thought,
I could serve thee as I ought,
Win thee, and deserve to feel
All the love thou canst reveal!
Trusting self, a bruised reed,
Is to be deceived indeed:
Save me from this harm and loss,
Lest my gold turn all to dross.
Self is earthly-Faith alone
Makes an unseen world our own;
Faith relinquish'd, how we roam,
Feel our way, and leave our home!
Spurious gems our hopes entice,
While we scorn the pearl of price;
And, preferring servants' pay,
Cast the children's bread away.
THE ACQUIESCENCE OF PURE LOVE.
Love! if thy destined sacrifice am I,
Come, slay thy victim, and prepare thy fires; Plunged in thy depths of mercy, let me die
The death, which ev'ry soul that lives desires!
I watch my hours, and see them fleet away;
The time is long that I have languished here;
Yet all my thoughts thy purposes obey,
With no reluctance, cheerful and sincere.
To me 'tis equal, whether Love ordain
My life or death, appoint me pain or ease;
My soul perceives no real ill in pain;
In ease or health, no real good she sees.
One good she covets, and that good alone;
To choose thy will, from selfish bias free; And to prefer a cottage to a throne,
And grief to comfort, if it pleases Thee.
That we should bear the cross, is thy command;
Die to the world, and live to self no more;
Suffer, unmoved, beneath the rudest hand,
As pleased when shipwreck'd, as when safe on shore.
Blest! who, far from all mankind,
This world's shadows left behind,
Hears from heav'n a gentle strain
Whisp'ring love, and loves again.
Blest! who, free from self-esteem,
Dives into the Great Supreme,
All desires beside discards,
Joys inferior none regards.
Blest! who in thy bosom seeks
Rest that nothing earthly breaks,
Dead to self and worldly things,
Lost in thee, thou King of Kings!
Ye that know my seeret fire,
Softly speak and soon retire;
Favor my divine repose,
Spare the sleep a God bestows.
Oh loved! but not enough-though dearer far
Than self and its most loved enjoyments are ;
None duly loves thee, but who, nobly free
From sensual objects, finds his all in thee.
Glory of God! though stranger here below,
Whom man nor knows, nor feels a wish to know; Our Faith and Reason are both shock'd to find Man in the post of honor-Thee behind.
Reason exclaims-"Let ev'ry creature fall,
Ashamed, abased, before the Lord of all;"
And Faith, o'erwhelm'd with such a dazzling blaze,
Feebly describes the beauty she surveys.
Yet man, dim-sighted man, and rash as blind,
Deaf to the dictates of his better mind,
In frantic competition dares the skies,
And claims precedence of the Only-wise.
Oh lost in vanity, till once self-known!
Nothing is great, or good, but God alone;
When thou shalt stand before his awful face,
Then, at the last, thy pride shall know His place.
Glorious, Almighty, First, and without end!
When wilt thou melt the mountains, ana descend?
When will thou shoot abroad thy conq'ring rays,
And teach these atoms, thou hast made, thy praise?
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