Oh! let me then at length be taught
What I am still so slow to learn;
That God is Love, and changes not,
Nor knows the shadow of a turn.
Sweet truth, and easy to repeat!
But when my faith is sharply tried,
I find myself a learner yet,
Unskilful, weak, and apt to slide.
But, O my Lord, one look from thee
Subdues the disobedient will,
Drives doubt and discontent away,
And thy rebellious worm is still.
Thou art as ready to forgive
As I am ready to repine;
Thou, therefore, all the praise receive;
Be shame and self-abhorrence mine.
XLII. MOURNING AND LONGING.
My spirit thirsts to prove
Renewed supplies of pardoning grace,
And never-fading love.
The favoured souls who know
What glories shine in him,
Pant for his presence as the roe
Pants for the living stream.
What trifles tease me now!
They swarm like summer flies;
They cleave to everything I do,
And swim before my eyes.
How dull the Sabbath day
Without the Sabbath's Lord!
How toilsome then to sing and pray,
And wait upon the word!
Of all the truths I hear,
How few delight my taste!
I glean a berry here and there,
But mourn the vintage past.
Yet let me (as I ought)
Still hope to be supplied;
No pleasure else is worth a thought,
Nor shall I be denied.
Though I am but a worm,
Unworthy of his care,
The Lord will my desire perform,
And grant me all my prayer.
XLIII. SELF-ACQUAINTANCE.
Which of itself complains,
And mourns, with much and frequent smart,
The evil it contains.
There fiery seeds of anger lurk,
Which often hurt my frame;
And wait but for the tempter's work
To fan them to a flame.
Legality holds out a bribe
To purchase life from thee;
And Discontent would fain prescribe
How thou shalt deal with me.
While Unbelief withstands thy grace,
And puts the mercy by;
Presumption, with a brow of brass,
Says, "Give me, or I die!"
How eager are my thoughts to roam
In quest of what they love!
But ah! when Duty calls them home,
How heavily they move!
Oh, cleanse me in a Saviour's blood,
Transform me by thy power,
And make me thy beloved abode,
And let me roam no more.
XLIV. PRAYER FOR PATIENCE.
My peace and pardon to procure,
The lighter cross I bear for thee
Help me with patience to endure.
The storm of loud repining hush;
I would in humble silence mourn;
Why should the unburnt, though burning bush,
Be angry as the crackling thorn?
Man should not faint at thy rebuke,
Like Joshua falling on his face,
When the cursed thing that Achan took
Brought Israel into just disgrace.
