. Let us sing, though strong temptation

Threaten hard to bear us down;
For, the Lord our strong Salvation,
Holds in view the conqu’ror's crown.

He who wash'd us in his blood,
Soon shall bring us home to God.

· Let us wonder, grace and justice

Join the point to mercy's store;
When, through grace, in Christ our trust is,
Justice smiles, and asks no more.

He who wash'd us in his blood,
Has secur'd our way to God.

To see as seen, to know as known,

My Saviour in my flesh and blood; To be made like him, with him one,

I in him, and he in God. The holy, holy, holy One,

Who was, and is, and is to come, The earth his footstool, Heaven his throne,

The Church his Bride, he her Bridegroom. Angels and Elders, earth and heav'n,

Are summon'd to unseal the book; But silent all, no answer giv'n,

None worthy found therein to look. But Judah's Lion, David's Son,

And David's Root, the great I AM, Appears upon his Father's throne,

As slain for sacrifice, the Lamb. He takes the book, he can anseal;

He worthy is, and he has power God's secret counsels to reveal,

And to fulfil each its hour.
The heavenly host united fall

In humble worship at his feet,
One glorious theme inspires them all,

The joy is full, the concert sweet.
New odours to the throne ascend,

In accents new their praises soar;
Each finds in each a glowing friend,

And all tbe God of all adore.
And shall I join that prostrate throng,

In love's ecstatic heav'n-taught lays,
With pow'rs expanded, that new song,

Hymn to the Lamb's exalted praise !
Worthy art thou to take the book,

And loose the seals, and read therein,
God's holy mysteries to unlock ;
Worthy art thou, for thou wast slain.

Thou hast redeem'd us with thy blood,

From ev'ry nation of the earth ;
And made us Kings and Priests to God,

And sharers of a heavenly birth.
Myriads of angels stand around,

Uniting in the loud acclaim;
And fill the temple with the sound

Of our Redeemer's gentle name.
Worthy the Lamb that once was slain,

A sacrifice for ev'ry sin,
All pow'r and glory to obtain,

And universal empire win.
Heav'n, earth and sea, shall swell the tone

Of fervent universal praise ;
And grateful joy around the throne,

Its voice from age to age shall raise.
In all these myriads is there one

Who had on earth so much forgiv'n?
And shall I reach their highest tone

Of love to Jesus? This Is Heaven!!!

And when this breast to heave shall cease,
And heart and lungs are hush'd to peace,
Some friendly band the eye-lids close,
And leave the clay to short repose;*
Still on your knees be thanks exprest,
Acco ding as the Lord has blest;
This tongue, then mute, can now foretel
Jesus shall have done all things well.
Should the great Sou'reign will it so,
That I in secret with him go,
'Twill be enough that he stands by,

He all my wants will well supply. * These circumstances took place as here described, although surviving friends had not then any knowledge of this poem.

Upon his dear, bis faithful breast,
My heart and head shall safely rest;
The flutt'ring pulse, and bursting sigh,
He'll soothe with, 'Fear not, it is I.'

Into his hands my sp’rit I'll breathe,
Inhaling life from him, in death :
Though none should see, faith can foretel
My Jesus shall do all things well.

Though he deny my half-form'd pray'r,
Well may I cast on him my care;
All things are mine, or life, or death,
In praise of Him I'll spend my breath.

Be this my only wish beside,
That God's great name be glorified.
What me concerns faith can foretel,
My Jesus shall do all things well.

The following Poems were found among some old papers, and

are supposed to be original—they were writlen in the Island of Antigua, shortly after Dr. Graham's death.

PART I.

Hail! thou state of widowhood,
State of those that mourn to God;
Who, from earthly comforts torn,
Only live to pray and mourn.
Meanest of the number, I
For my dear companion sigh:
Patiently my loss deplore,
Mourn for one that mourns no more.

Me my consort hath out-run,
Out of sight he quite is gone;
He his course has finish'd here,
First come to the sepulchre.

Der

Following on with earnest haste,
Till my mourning days are past,
I my partner's steps pursue,
I shall soon be happy too;

Find the ease for which I pant,
Gain the only good I want;
Quietly lay down my head,
Sink into my earthly bed.

There my flesh shall rest in hope,
Till the quicken'd dust mount up;
When to glorious life I'll rise,
To meet my husband in the skies.

PART II.

Happy they who trust in Jesus;

Jesus turns our loss to gain; Still his balmy mercies ease us,

Sweeten all our grief and pain.

When he calls our friends ť inherit

All the glories of the blest, He assures the widow'd spirit,

( Thou shalt quickly be at rest.'

Though my flesh and spirit languish

Let me not too much complain; Sure at last outlive my anguish,

Sure to find my friend again.

Ransom'd from a world of sorrow,

He to-day is taken home;
I shall be releas'd to-morrow :

Come, my dear Redeemer, come.

From my sanctified distresses,

Now, or when thou wilt, receive; Grant with him in thine embraces,

After all my deaths, to live.