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No righteousness my hands have wrought.

Shall ever form my plea:

My soul recoils at such a thought;
(A firmer hope for me!)

Thy mercy, in that trying scene,
Is all my hope and stay:

No blood but thine can wash me clean,
Or purge my guilt away.

My most devoted acts, when try'd,
Will never stand the test;
Where can a guilty sinner hide,

But in his Saviour's breast.

Jesus, my "rock," on which I build,
My solemn hope of heaven;
Shall be my righteousness and shield,
And whisper "I'm forgiven."

O for that wisdom to prepare,
To meet a peaceful end!

And, when I stand before that bar,

May Jesus be my friend!



THESE hearts, alas! cleave to the dust
By strong and endless ties:

Whilst ev'ry sorrow cuts a string,

And urges us to rise.

When Heaven would kindly set us free,

And earth's enchantment end;

It takes the most effectual way,
And robs us of a friend.

Resign-and all the load of life
That moment you remove;

Its heavy load, ten thousand cares,
Devolve on One above-

Who bids us lay our burden down
On His almighty hand;
Softens our duty to relief,
To blessing a command.



RISE, thou best and brightest morning,
Rosy with a double red,

With thine own blush thy cheeks adorning,
And the dear drops this day were shed.

All the purple pride that laces

The crimson curtains of thy bed, Gilds thee not with so sweet graces, Nor sets thee in so rich a red.

Of all the fair-cheek'd flowers that fill thee, None so fair thy bosom shows,

As this modest maiden lily,

Our sins have sham'd into a rose.

Bid thy golden god the sun,

Burnish'd in his best beams, rise, Put all his red-ey'd rubies on;

Those rubies shall put out their eyes.



WELCOME all wonders in one sight!

Eternity shut in a span,

Summer in winter, day in night,

Heaven in earth, and God in man;
Great little one! whose all-embracing birth
Lifts earth to heav'n, stoops heav'n to earth.

Welcome! though not to gold nor silk,
To more than Cæsar's birthright is;
Two sister seas of virgin milk,

With many a rarely-temper'd kiss

That breathes at once both maid and mother,
Warms in the one, cools in the other.

She sings thy tears asleep, and dips
Her kisses in thy weeping eye;
She spreads the red leaves of thy lips,

That in their buds yet blushing lie;
She 'gainst those mother diamonds tries
The points of her young eagle's eyes.

Welcome! though not to those gay flies
Gilded i' th' beams of earthly kings
Slippery souls in smiling eyes,

But to poor shepherds, homespun things,
Whose wealth's their flock,; whose wit to be
Well read in their simplicity.

Yet when young April's husband-showers
Shall bless the fruitful Maia's bed,
We'll bring the first-born of her flowers

To kiss thy feet, and crown thy head.
To thee, dread Lamb! whose love must keep
The shepherds more than they their sheep.

To thee, meek Majesty! soft King
Of simple graces and sweet loves,
Each of us his lamb will bring,

Each his pair of silver doves,

Till burnt at last in fire of thy fair eyes,
Ourselves become our own best sacrifice.



AND is there care in heav'n? and is there love
In heav'nly spirits to these creatures base,
That may compassion of their evils move?
There is; else much more wretched were the case
Of men than beasts. But oh! the exceeding grace
Of highest God! that loves his creatures so,
And all his works with mercy doth embrace,
That blessed angels he sends to and fro,

To serve to wicked man,-to serve his wicked foe.
How oft do they their silver bowers leave,
To come to succour us, that succour want?
How oft do they with golden pinions cleave
The flitting skies, like flying pursuivant
Against fowle fiends to aid us militant.
They for us fight, they watch and duly ward,
And their bright squadrons round about us plant;
And all for love, and nothing for reward:

Oh! why should heav'nly God to man have such regard!


HARK, my soul! it is the Lord;
'Tis thy Saviour, hear his word;


Jesus speaks, and speaks to thee:
"Say, poor sinner, lov'st thou me?
I deliver'd thee when bound,

And, when bleeding, heal'd thy wound;
Sought thee wand'ring, set thee right,
Turn'd thy darkness into light.

Can a woman's tender care
Cease towards the child she bare;
Yes, she may forgetful be,
Yet will I remember thee.
Mine is an unchanging love,
Higher than the heights above;
Deeper than the depths beneath,
Free and faithful, strong as death.
Thou shalt see my glory soon,
When the work of grace is done;
Partner of my throne shalt be,
Say, poor sinner, lov'st thou me?"

Lord, it is my chief complaint,
That my love is weak and faint;
Yet I love thee and adore,
O for grace to love thee more!


FATHER of light, and life, and glory, say,
Who is the man whose spirit shall attain
y blest abode, of bright ethereal day,

ere God and everlasting pleasures reign!

he who takes religion for his guide,

ad hand in hand with innocency moves; ruth, with her train of virtues, on his side, And all the charms of purity he loves.

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