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Mysterious Three in One;
Thy will for ever done.
For this alone on earth I wait,
To glorify my God;
Of sacred widowhood.
And may 1, in thy strength, fulfil
My awful character;
And do thy pleasure here.
The children to thyself restore,
Whom thou to me hast giv'n;
And train them up for heav'n.
Be this my hospitable care,
The stranger to receive,
And all their wants relieve.
My labour of unwearied love
With pleasure to repeat;
And gladly wash their feet.
The servant of thy servants bless,
With active earnest zeal;
I shall with joy fulfil.
WOND'RING, I ask, where is the breast,
Struggling so late, and rack'd with pain; The eyes that upward look'd for rest,
And dropt their weary lids again?
The recent horrors still appear;
O may they never cease to awe! Still is the king of terrors near,
Whom late in all his pomp I saw. Torture and sin prepar'd his way,
And pointed to the yawning grave; Darkness was spread o'er all the day,
No hand was seen stretch'd forth to save. 'Twas not the searching pain within,
That fill'd the coward flesh with fear;
Nor sense of dissolution near.
(The fruit of righteousness alone,) His soul afar from Christ was found,
And started from a God unknown.
His feeble flesh refus'd to bear
Its strong redoubled agonies; When mercy heard his feeble prayer,
And saw him faintly gasp for ease. • Father! if I may call thee mine,
From heav'n and thee remov'd so far,
And cast not out my languid prayer.
Or dare appear before thy face?
I long have wearied out thy grace. • Loos'd from my God, and far remov'd,
Long have I wander'd to and fro; O’er earth in endless circles rov'd,
And sought a place of rest below. • In darkness willingly I stray'd,
I sought thee, yet from thee I rov'd; For wide my wand'ring thoughts were spread ;
Thy creatures more than thee I lov'd.
Corrupt my will, nor half subdu'd;
Can I the purer presence bear!
Dare I before thy face appear?
Ere yet arrive the fatal hour;
And raise me by thy quick’ning power. • My nature re-exchange for thine,
Be thou my Life, my Hope, my Gain; Clothe me with righteousness divine,
And death shall shake his dart in vain. • Could I the Saviour's voice but hear,
And clasp him in my soul's embrace, Soon I'd dismiss my gloomy fear,
And rest on his supporting grace. • I nothing have wherein to trust,
I nothing am-from nothing came; Excluded is my every boast,
My glory swallow'd up in shame. • Guilty I stand before thy face;
Thy wrath on me might well abide; 'Tis just the sentence should take place ;
'Tis just,—but, oh! thy Son has died ! • Jesus, the Lamb of God, hath bled,
He bare our sins upon the tree; Beneath our curse he bow'd his head,
'Tis finish'd! He hath died for me. • Lo! now before the throne he stands,
And pours the all-prevailing prayer; Points to his side, and lifts his hands,
And shows that I am graven there. • He ever lives for me to pray ;
He prays that I with him may reign; Amen, to what my Lord doth say,
Jesus, thou canst not pray in vain.
• A stranger long to thee and rest,
Behold the prodigal is come: Open for me thine arms and breast,
And take the weary wanderer home! . O draw me, Saviour, after thee!
So shall I run, and never tire; With gracious words still comfort me,
My Life, my Hope, my sole Desire ! • Fain would I leave this earth below,
Of pain and sin the dark abode ; Where shadowy joy, or solid woe,
Allures, or tears me from my God. " Whither should now my soul aspire,
But heav'nward to my Saviour's breast; Wafted on wings of warm desire,
To gain her everlasting rest! • Where thou, and only thou, art love;
Far from the world's insidious art; Beyond the rage of fiends remov'd,
And safe from my deceitful heart. “There let me rest, and sin no more;
Come quickly, Lord, and end the strife ; Hasten my last, my mortal hour,
Swallow me up in endless life. " Thankful, I take the cup from thee,
Prepar'd and mingled by thy skill; Though bitter to the taste it be,
It has a sov'reign power to heal. • When pains o'er my weak flesh prevail,
With lamb-like patience arm my breast; If fear my wounded soul assail,
O cheer me by thy promis'd rest!
Say to my trembling heart, Be still;
And fix my feet on Zion's bill.
'Tis done ; life's struggle now is o'er,
Close to ny Saviour now I cling;
The Saviour's kind, he takes me home!
Amen! sweet Jesus, come, Lord, come!'
Ended at last the doubtful strife;
A widow thou, no more a wife.
AND wilt thou yet be found,
And may I still draw near?
Of a poor sinner's prayer.
If still the same thou art;
Lift up a helpless heart.
The strugglings of my will,
The agonies I feel.
Saviour, to thee is known:
And not my God alone.
Who only canst control;
And calm my troubled soul.
Restore mine inward peace;
And bid the tempest cease.