When shall thy love constrain,

And force me to thy breast? When shall my soul return again

To her eternal rest?
Thy condescending grace

To me did freely move;
It calls me still to seek thy face,

And stoops to ask my love.
Ah! what avails my strife,

Distraction, grief, and woe! Thou bast the words of endless life:

To thee then let me go. Lord, at thy feet I fall,

groan to be set free; I fain would now obey thy call,

And give up all for thee.

To rescue me from woe,

Thou didst with all things part; Didst lead a life of grief below,

To gain my worthless heart. My worthless heart to gain,

The God of all that breathe Was found in fashion as a man,

And died a cursed death.

Take, then, () Saviour, take,

And keep me ever thine; Though late, I all for thee forsake,

And more than life resign. Come, and possoss me whole,

Nor hence again renove; Settle and fix my wavering soul

With all thy weight of love.
My one desire be this,

Thy love alone to know,
To seek, and taste no other bliss,

No other good below.

My Life, my Portion, thou,

Thou all-sufficient art; My Hope, my heav'nly Treasure, now

Enter, and keep my heart. Rather than let it burn

For earth, () quench its heat; And when it would to earth return,

O let it cease to beat.

Snatch me from ill to come,

When I from thee would fly;
O take my wand'ring spirit home,

And grant me then to die.

Sinking underneath my load,

Darkly feeling after thee,
Let me ask, - My God, my God,
Why hast thou forsaken me ?

Why, O why, am I forgot ?

Lord, I seek, but find thee not. Still I ask, nor yet receive,

Knock at the unopen'd door ; Still I struggle to believe, Hope, though urg'd to hope no more,

Bearing what I cannot bear,

Yielding, fighting with despair.
Hear, in mercy, my complaint,

Hear, and hasten to my aid ;
Help, or utterly I faint;
Fails the spirit thou hast made:

Still I at thy footstool keep,

Pray and hope, despair and weep. Struggling in temptation's snare,

Lo! I ever look to thee ;
Tempted more than I can bear!
No, my soul, it cannot be :

True an faithful is his word,
And thy sure Support the Lord.

Come, then, O my Saviour, come!

God of truth, no longer stay; God of love, dispel the gloom, Point me out the promis'd way ;

Let me from the trial ily,
Sink into thy arms, and die.

Waft me to that happy shore,

Port of ease, and end of care;
All my storms shall there be o'er,
Grief shall never reach me there :

Surely of my God possest,
Safe in my Redeemer's breast.

Rise, my soul, the dawn appears

Of that eternal day :
Quit, in hope, the vale of tears,

And mount and soar away.

Darting through this lower sphere,

Quick as a seraphic flame; Rise, the marriage feast to share

Of Moses and the Lamb.

In the wedding garb of love,

By heav'nly pity drest;
I skall soon sit down above,

At the celestial feast.

To mine elder Brother join'd,

I shall there my partner see ; In the arms of Jesus find

The soul that twin'd with me.

There we shall with transport meet,

And see our Saviour's face; There the heav'nly song repeat,

In ecstacy of praise.

Bright as his, our bodies are;

Like the Head, the members shine ;
All our open foreheads bear

The glorious stamp divine.
With the high and lofty One

We dwell in bliss supreme;
Share the pleasures of his throne,

And taste the crystal stream;
Banquet on angelic food,

Father, Son, and Spirit know;
Drink the joys that flow from God,

And shall for ever flow.

A FRAGMENT.

Mixt with the guardian angels, bend

The heirs of glorious grace ;
And still, like them, to heaven ascend,

And still behold thy face.
Happy, might I the grace receive,

Which thy true widows share;
With God in close communion live

A life of faith and prayer.
In thee, my only friend, confide

Delightfully alone ;
And desolate with thee abide,

Till all my course be run.
Surely, I now rely on thee,

Within thine arms I am;
And trust the glorious face to see

Of my triumphant Lamb.
I know the prayer of faith is heard,

I feel the answer given ;
And baste, by holiness prepar'd,

To meet my Lord in heaven.

LETTERS.

TO MRS. GRANDIDIER.

St. John's, Antigua, 1775. My dear Mrs. G

The long and steady friendship which has subsisted between us in sickness and in health, in prosperity and in adversity, ever the same, without change or diminution, leaves me no room to doubt that it will extend to my little family, and that you will be as ready, to the utmost of your power, to befriend them, as you have been the dear father already gone, and your friend, who is, perhaps, about to follow.

If it should please God to take me away in my approaching confinement, I leave you and Captain G. full power to dispose of every thing in this house, and belonging to me in this island, as you shall think most for the advantage of my little family. You know that my extreme tenderness for their dear father, made me unable to part with any

of his clothes; but these can be of no consequence to me when I shall again have joined him for whose sake I kept them; you may therefore dispose of them, and also my own,

if

you think that what they will fetch will be of more service to the children. But I do not choose to leave any particular directions about my trifling effects; you will consult with other friends; and I am certain that you will act for them to the best of your judgment. It is

of