Altho' the Vine its Fruit deny,
Altho' the Olive yield no Óil,
The with'ring Fig-tree droop and die,
The Field illude the Tiller's Toil,
The empty Stall no Herd afford,
And perish all the bleating Race,
Yet will I triumph in the LORD,
The GOD of my Salvation praise.
III.
Barren altho' my Soul remain,
And no one Bud of Grace appear,
No Fruit of all my Toil and Pain,
But Sin and only Sin is here;
Altho' my Gifts and Comforts loft,
My blooming Hopes cut off I fee,
Yet will I in my SAVIOUR truft,
And glory that He dy'd for me:
IV.
In Hope, believing against Hope, †
JESUS, my LORD and GOD I claim,
JESUS my Strength fhall lift me up,.
Salvation is in JESU's Name:
To me He foon fhall bring it nigh, t
My Soul fhall then outftrip the Wind,
On Wings of Love mount up on high,
And leave the World and Sin behind.
As the Sufferings of CHRIST abound in us, fo our Confolation alfo aboundeth by CHRIST. 2 Cor. i. 5.
OME on my Part'ners in Diftrefs,
My Comrades thro, the Wilderness,
Who ftill your Bodies feel!
A while forget your Griefs and Fears,
And look beyond the Vale of Tears
To that celeftial Hill..
See where the LAMB in Glory ftands,,
Incircled with his radient Bands,
And join th' angelic Pow'rs:
For all that Height of glorious Blifs, -
Our everlasting Portion is,
And all that Heav'n is ours..
III..
Who + fuffer for our Mafter here,,
We shall before his Face appear,
And by his Side † fit down; .
To patient Faith the Prize is fure,
And thofe that to the End endure ||
The Crofs, fhall wear the Crown..
IV.
Thrice bleffed Blifs!-Infpiring Hope !!
It lifts the fainting Spirits up!
It brings to Life the Dead!
Rev.. 6, 9.
Luke xiii. 29.
2 Tim. ii. 12. #Matt. X. 22.
Our Conflicts here fhall foon be paft,
And you and I afcend at last,
Triumphant with our Head.
That great myfterious DEITY
We foon with open Face fhall fee
The Beatific Sight
Shall fill the heav'nly Courts with Praise,
And wide diffuse the golden Blaze
Of everlafting Light!
WHIT-SUNDA Y.
John xiv. 16-21.
Jour longing Souls have heard from Thee,
ESU we hang upon the Word
Be mindful of thy Promife, LORD!
Thy Promise made to all, and me,
Thy Foll'wers who thy Steps pursue,
And dare believe that GOD is True.
Thou faidft I will the FATHER pray,
And He the PARACLETE fhall give,
Shall give him in your Hearts to stay,
And never more his † Temples leave:
Myfelf will to my Orphans come,
And make you mine Eternal Home.
Come then dear LORD! Thyfelf reveal,
And let the Promife now take Place !
i. c. Comforter. † Cor. vi. 19.
Be it according to thy Will,
According to thy Word of Grace!
Thy forrowful Difciples chear,
And send us down the COMFORTER
IV.
He vifits now the troubled Breast,
And oft relieves our fad Complaint,
But foon we lofe the t tranfient Gueft
But foon we droop again, and faint,
Repeat the melancholy Moan-
"Our Joy is fled, our Comfort gone! "
Haften Him, LORD, into each Heart,
Our fure infeparable Guide-
O might we meet, and never part !
O might He in our Hearts abide?
And keep his House of Praife and Pray'r,
And reft, and reign for ever-There!
On the Death of a Believer..
H lovely Appearance of Death, No Sight upon Earth is fo fair; Not all the gay Pageants that breathe, Can with this dead Body compare: With folemn Delight I furvey
The Corpfe when the Spirit is fled, In Love with the beautiful Clay, And longing to lie in its Stead.
Jer. xiv. 8. If. lvi. 7. Matt. xxi. 13. former Part, with 1 Cor. iii. 16.
How bleft is our Brother, bereft
Of all that could burthen his Mind! How eafy the Soul that hath left
This wearifome Body behind! Of Evil incapable thou,
Whofe Relicks with Envy I fee: No longer in Mifery now,
No longer a Sinner like me.
This Earth is affected no more
With Sickness, or fhaken with Pain:
The War in the Members is o'er,
And never fhall vex him again :
No Anger henceforward, or Shame,
Shall redden this innocent Clay,
Extinct is the animal Flame,
And Paffion is vanifh'd away.
IV.
This languishing Head is at Reft,
Its Thinking and Aching are o'er :
This quiet immoveable Breast
Is heav'd by Affliction no more:
This Heart is no longer the Seat
Of Trouble and torturing Pain:
It ceases to Autter and beat,
It never fhall flutter again.
V.
The Lids he fo feldom could clofe,
By Sorrow forbidden to fleep,
Seal'd up in eternal Repofe,
Have ftrangely forgotten to weep:
The Fountains can yield no Supplies,
These Hollows from Water are free;
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