No other post affords a place
For equal honour or disgrace I
2 Who can describe the pain
Which faithful preachers feel,
Constrain d to speak in vain
To hearts as hard as steel ?
Or who can tell- the pleasures felt
When stubborn hearts begin to melt!
3 The Saviour s dying love,
The soul s amazing worth,
Their utmost efforts move,
And draw their bowels forth :
They pray and strive, their rest departs,
Till Christ be form d in sinners hearts.
4 If some small hope appear,
They still are not content ;
But, with a jealous fear,
They watch for the event :
Too oft they find their hopes deceived,
Then how their inmost souls are grieved!
5 But when their pains succeed,
And from the tender blade
The ripening ears proceed,
Their toils are overpaid :
No harvest joy can equal theirs,
To find the fruit of all their cares.
6 On what has now been sown,
Thy blessing, Lord, bestow;
The power is thine alone,
To make it spring and grow :
Do thou the gracious harvest raise,
And thou alone shalt have the praise.
27.
We are Ambassadors for Christ.—2 Cor. v, 20.
1 THY message by the preacher seal,
And let thy power be known,
That every sinner here may feel
The word is not his own.
