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Put thy bright robes of triumph on,

And bless our eyes, and bless our ears, Thou absent Love, thou dear Unknown,

Thou Fairest of ten thousand Fairs.

Our heart-strings groan with deep complaint,

Our flesh lies panting, Lord, for thee; And every limb, and every joint,

Stretches for immortality.

Our spirits shake their eager wings,

And burn to meet thy flying throne; We rise away from mortal things,

To' attend thy shining chariot down.

Now let our cheerful eyes survey

The blazing earth and melting hills, And smile to see the lightnings play,

And flash along before thy wheels.

O for a shout of violent joys

To join the trumpet's thundering sound ! The angel herald shakes the skies,

Awakes the graves, and tears the ground.

Ye slumbering saints, a heavenly host

Stands waiting at your gaping tombs ; Let every sacred sleeping dust

Leap into life, for Jesus comes.

Jesus, the God of might and love,

New-moulds our limbs of cumbrous clay; Quick' as seraphic flames we move,

Active and young, and fair as they.

Our airy feet with unknown flight,

Swift as the motions of desire, Run up the hills of heavenly light,

And leave the weltering world in fire.



I LOVE the Lord; but ah! how far
My thoughts from the dear object are!
This wanton heart, how wide it roves!
And fancy meets a thousand loves.

If my soul burn to see my God,
I tread the courts of his abode;
But troops of rivals throng the place,
And tempt me off, before his face.

Would I enjoy my Lord alone,
I bid my passions all be gone,
All but my love; and charge my will
To bar the door, and guard it still.

But cares, or trifles, make or find
Still new avenues to the mind,
Till I with grief and wonder see
Huge crowds betwixt the Lord and me.

Oft I am told the Muse will prove
A friend to piety and love :
Straight I begin some sacred song,
And take my Saviour on my tongue,

Strangely I lose his lovely face,
To hold the empty sounds in chase ;
At best the chimes divide my heart,
And the Muse shares the larger part,

False confident! and falser breast !
Fickle, and fond of every guest:
Each airy image at it flies
Here finds admittance through my eyes.

This foolish heart can leave her God,
And shadows tempt her thoughts abroad :
How shall I fix this wandering inind?
Or throw my fetters on the wind?

Look gently down, Almighty Grace,
Prison me round in thine embrace ;
Pity the soul that would be thine,
And let thy power my love confine.

Say, when shall that bright moment be,
That I shall live alone for thee,
My heart no foreign lords adore,
And the wild Muse prove false no more?


Happy the hours, the golden days,

When I could call my Jesus mine, And sit and view his smiling face,

And melt in pleasures all divine.

Near to my heart, within my arms

He lay, till sin defild my breast,
Till broken vows, and earthly charms,

Tir'd and provok'd my heavenly guest.

And now He's gone, (O mighty woe!)

Gone from my soul, and hides his love! Curse on you, sins, that griev'd him so,

Ye sins, that forc'd him to remove.

Break, break, my heart; complain, my tongue ;

Hither, my friends, your sorrows bring : Angels, assist my doleful song,

If you have e'er a mourning string.

But ah! your joys are ever high,

Ever his lovely face you see ; While my poor spirits pant and die,

And groan, for Thee, my God, for Thee !

Yet let my hope look through my tears,

And spy afar his rolling throne ;
His chariot through the cleaving spheres

Shall bring the bright Beloved down.

Swift as a roe flies o'er the hills,

My soul springs out to meet him high ; Then the fair Conqueror turns his wheels,

And climbs the mansions of the sky.

There smiling joy for ever reigns,

No more the turtle leaves the dove;
Farewell to jealousies, and pains,
And all the ills of absent love




ETERNAL Power! whose high abode
Becomes the grandeur of a God;
Infinite length beyond the bounds
Where stars revolve their little rounds.

The lowest step above thy seat
Rises too high for Gabriel's feet,
In vain the tall archangel tries
To reach thine height with wondering eyes.

Thy dazzling beauties whilst he sings,
He hides his face behind his wings;
And ranks of shining thrones around
Fall worshipping, and spread the ground.

Lord, what shall earth and ashes do?
We would adore our Maker too;
From sin and dust to thee we cry,
• The Great, the Holy, and the High!

Earth from afar has heard thy fame,
And worms have learn’d to lisp thy name ;
But 0! the glories of thy mind
Leave all our soaring thoughts behind.

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