01.01 Hymns on The Christian Life
Hymns on The Christian Life
by William Cowper The following hymns by William Cowper appear in The works of The Rev. John Newton (New Haven, CT: Nathan Whiting, 1826), vol. 2. In the preface to the Olney Hymns, Newton himself remarks that all the hymns marked with a "C" indicate that they were written by his friend and associate William Cowper. This file contains all of Cowper’s hymns that appear in Book III of the Olney hymns (a section titled: Olney Hymns on the Rise, Progress, Changes, and Comforts of the Spiritual Life). This electronic edition was made available by Shane Rosenthal for Reformation Ink. Original pagination has been retained for purposes of reference. The shining Light (Book III, Hymn 8, page 568) My former hopes are fled,
My terror now begins;
I feel, alas! that I am dead
In trespasses and sins.
Ah, whither shall I fly?
I hear the thunder roar;
The Law proclaims Destruction nigh,
And Vengeance at the door. When I review my ways,
I dread impending doom:
But sure a friendly whisper says,
"Flee from the wrath to come."
I see, or think I see,
A glimmering from afar;
A beam of day, that shines for me,
To save me from despair.
Forerunner of the sun,
It marks the pilgrim’s way;
I’ll gaze upon it while I run,
And watch the rising day.
Light shining out of Darkness (Book III, Hymn 15, page 571) God moves in a mysterious way, His wonders to perform;
He plants his footsteps in the sea, And rides upon the storm.
Deep in unfathomable mines Of never-failing skill, He treasures up his bright designs, And works his sov’reign will.
Ye fearful saints, fresh courage take, The clouds ye so much dread Are big with mercy, and shall break In blessings on your head.
Judge not the Lord by feeble sense, But trust him for his grace;
Behind a frowning providence He hides a smiling face. His purposes will ripen fasts, Unfolding ev’ry hour; The bud may have a bitter taste, But sweet will be the flow’r.
Blind unbelief is sure to err, And scan his work in vain;
God is his own interpreter, And he will make it plain.
Welcome Cross (Book III, Hymn 16, page 571-72)
’Tis my happiness below
Not to live without the cross,
But the Saviour’s power to know,
Sanctifying every loss;
Trials must and will befall;
But with humble faith to see
Love inscribed upon them all,
This is happiness to me.
God in Israel sows the seeds
Of affliction, pain, and toil;
These spring up and choke the weeds
Which would else o’erspread the soil:
Trials make the promise sweet,
Trials give new life to prayer;
Trials bring me to His feet,
Lay me low, and keep me there. Did I meet no trials here,
No chastisement by the way,
Might I not with reason fear
I should prove a castaway?
Bastards may escape the rod,
Sunk in earthly vain delight;
But the true-born child of God
Must not, would not, if he might.
Afflictions sanctified by the Word (Book III, Hymn 17, page 572)
Oh how I love Thy holy Word,
Thy gracious covenant, O Lord!
It guides me in the peaceful way;
I think upon it all the day.
What are the mines of shining wealth,
The strength of youth, the bloom of health!
What are all joys compared with those
Thine everlasting Word bestows!
Long unafflicted, undismay’d,
In pleasure’s path secure I stray’d;
Thou mad’st me feel thy chast’ning rod,
And straight I turned unto my God.
What though it pierced my fainting heart,
I bless’d Thine hand that caused the smart:
It taught my tears awhile to flow,
But saved me from eternal woe.
Oh! hadst Thou left me unchastised,
Thy precepts I had still despised;
And still the snare in secret laid
Had my unwary feet betray’d.
I love Thee, therefore, O my God,
And breathe towards Thy dear abode;
Where, in Thy presence fully blest,
Thy chosen saints for ever rest.
Temptation (Book III, Hymn 18, page 572) The billows swell, the winds are high,
Clouds overcast my wintry sky;
Out of the depths to Thee I call,
My fears are great, my strength is small.
O Lord, the pilot’s part perform,
And guard and guide me through the storm;
Defend me from each threatening ill,
Control the waves, say, "Peace! be still."
Amidst the roaring of the sea
My soul still hangs her hope on Thee;
Thy constant love, thy faithful care,
Is all that saves me from despair.
Dangers of every shape and name
Attend the followers of the Lamb,
Who leave the world’s deceitful shore,
And leave it to return no more.
Though tempest-toss’d and half a wreck,
My Saviour through the floods I seek;
Let neither winds nor stormy main
Force back my shatter’d bark again.
Looking upwards in a Storm (Book III, Hymn 19, page 573)
God of my life, to Thee I call,
Afflicted at Thy feet I fall;
When the great water-floods prevail,
Leave not my trembling heart to fail!
Friend of the friendless and the faint,
Where should I lodge my deep complaint,
Where but with Thee, whose open door
Invites the helpless and the poor! Did ever mourner plead with Thee,
And Thou refuse the mourner’s plea?
Does not the word still fix’d remain,
That none shall seek Thy face in vain? That were a grief I could not bear,
Didst Thou not hear and answer prayer:
But a prayer-hearing, answering God
Supports me under every load.
Fair is the lot that’s cast for me;
I have an Advocate with Thee;
They whom the world caresses most
Have no such privilege to boast.
Poor though I am, despised, forgot,
Yet God, my God, forgets me not:
And he is safe, and must succeed,
For whom the Lord vouchsafes to plead. The Valley of the Shadow of Death (Book III, Hymn 20, page 573) My soul is sad, and much dismay’d;
See, Lord, what legions of my foes,
With fierce Apollyon at their head,
My heavenly pilgrimage oppose.
See, from the ever-burning lake,
How like a smoky cloud they rise!
With horrid blasts my soul they shake,
With storms of blasphemies and lies. Their fiery arrows reach the mark,
My throbbing heart with anguish tear;
Each lights upon a kindred spark,
And finds abundant fuel there.
I hate the thought that wrongs the Lord;
Oh! I would drive it from my breast,
With Thy own sharp two-edged sword,
Far as the east is from the west.
Come, then, and chase the cruel host,
Heal the deep wounds I have received!
Nor let the power of darkness boast
That I am foil’d, and Thou art grieved!
Peace after a Storm (Book III, Hymn 23, page 574) When darkness long has veil’d my mind,
And smiling day once more appears,
Then, my Redeemer, then I find
The folly of my doubts and fears.
Straight I upbraid my wandering heart,
And blush that I should ever be
Thus prone to act so base a part,
Or harbour one hard thought of Thee!
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.
Mourning and Longing (Book III, Hymn 24, page 575) The Saviour hides His face;
My spirit thirsts to prove
Renew’d supplies of pardoning grace,
And never-fading love. The favor’d 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.
Self-acquaintance (Book III, Hymn 26, page 576)
Dear Lord! accept a sinful heart,
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.
Prayer for Patience (Book III, Hymn 28, page 576-77)
Lord, who hast suffer’d all for me,
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.
Perhaps some golden wedge suppress’d,
Some secret sin offends my God;
Perhaps that Babylonish vest,
Self-righteousness, provokes the rod.
Ah! were I buffeted all day,
Mock’d, crown’d with thorns and spit upon,
I yet should have no right to say,
My great distress is mine alone.
Let me not angrily declare
No pain was ever sharp like mine,
Nor murmur at the cross I bear,
But rather weep, remembering Thine.
Submission (Book III, Hymn 28, page 577) O Lord, my best desire fulfil,
And help me to resign
Life, health, and comfort to Thy will,
And make Thy pleasure mine.
Why whould I shrink at Thy command,
Whose love forbids my fears?
Or tremble at the gracious hand
That wipes away my tears?
No, rather let me freely yield
What most I prize to Thee;
Who never hast a good withheld,
Or wilt withhold, from me.
Thy favor, all my journey through,
Thou art engaged to grant;
What else I want, or think I do,
’Tis better still to want.
Wisdom and mercy guide my way,
Shall I resist them both?
A poor blind creature of day,
And crush’d before the moth! But ah! my inward spirit cries,
Still binds me to Thy sway;
Else the next cloud that veils the skies
Drives all these thoughts away. The Happy Change (Book III, Hymn 44, page 583)
How bless’d Thy creature is, O God,
When with a single eye,
He views the lustre of Thy Word,
The dayspring from on high!
Through all the storms that veil the skies
And frown on earthly things,
The Sun of Righteousness he eyes,
With healing on His wings.
Struck by that light, the human heart,
A barren soil no more,
Sends the sweet smell of grace abroad,
Where serpents lurk’d before. The soul, a dreary province once
Of Satan’s dark domain,
Feels a new empire form’d within,
And owns a heavenly reign. The glorious orb whose golden beams
The fruitful year control,
Since first obedient to Thy WOrd,
He started from the goal, Has cheer’d the nations with the joys
His orient rays impart;
But, Jesus, ’tis Thy light alone
Can shine upon the heart.
Retirement (Book III, Hymn 45, page 583)
Far from the world, O Lord, I flee,
From strife and tumult far;
From scenes where Satan wages still
His most successful war. The calm retreat, the silent shade,
With prayer and praise agree;
And seem, by Thy sweet bounty made,
For those who follow Thee.
There if Thy Spirit touch the soul,
And grace her mean abode,
Oh, with what peace, and joy, and love,
She communes with her God!
There like the nightingale she pours
Her solitary lays;
Nor asks a witness of her song,
Nor thirsts for human praise.
Author and Guardian of my life,
Sweet source of light Divine,
And, -- all harmonious names in one, --
My Saviour! Thou art mine.
What thanks I owe Thee, and what love,
A boundless, endless store,
Shall echo through the realms above,
When time shall be no more. The Hidden Life (Book III, Hymn 47, page 584) To tell the Saviour all my wants,
How pleasing is the task!
Nor less to praise Him when He grants
Beyond what I can ask. My laboring spirit vainly seeks
To tell but half the joy,
With how much tenderness He speaks,
And helps me to reply. Nor were it wise, nor should I choose,
Such secrets to declare;
Like precious wines their taste they lose,
Exposed to open air. But this with boldness I proclaim,
Nor care if thousands hear,
Sweet is the ointment of His name,
Not life is half so dear. And can you frown, my former friends,
Who knew what once I was,
And blame the song that thus commends
The Man who bore the cross?
Trust me, I draw the likeness true,
And not as fancy paints;
Such honor may He give to you,
For such have all His saints.
True Pleasures (Book III, Hymn 49, page 585)
Lord, my soul with pleasure springs
When Jesu’s name I hear:
And when God the Spirit brings
The word of promise near:
Beauties too, in holiness,
Still delighted I perceive;
Nor have words that can express
The joys Thy precepts give.
Clothed in sanctity and grace,
How sweet it is to see
Those who love Thee as they pass,
Or when they wait on Thee.
Pleasant too to sit and tell
What we owe to love Divine;
Till our bosoms grateful swell,
And eyes begin to shine.
Those the comforts I possess,
Which God shall still increase,
All His ways are pleasantness,
And all His paths are peace.
Nothing Jesus did or spoke,
Henceforth let me ever slight;
For I love His easy yoke,
And find His burden light. The Christian (Book III, Hymn 50, page 585)
Honor and happiness unite
To make the Christian’s name a praise;
How fair the scene, how clear the light,
That fills the remnant of His days! A kingly character He bears,
No change His priestly office knows;
Unfading is the crown He wears,
His joys can never reach a close.
Adorn’d with glory from on high,
Salvation shines upon His face;
His robe is of the ethereal dye,
His steps are dignity and grace.
Inferior honors He disdains,
Nor stoops to take applause from earth;
The King of kings Himself maintains
The expenses of His heavenly birth. The noblest creature seen below,
Ordain’d to fill a throne above;
God gives him all He can bestow,
His kingdom of eternal love! My soul is ravished at the thought!
Methinks from earth I see Him rise!
Angels congratulate His lot,
And shout Him welcome to the skies.
Lively Hope and Gracious Fear (Book III, Hymn 51, page 585-86) I was a grovelling creature once,
And basely cleaved to earth:
I wanted spirit to renounce
The clod that gave me birth. But God hath breathed upon a worm,
And sent me from above
Wings such as clothe an angel’s form,
The wings of joy and love. With these to Pisgah’s top I fly
And there delighted stand,
To view, beneath a shining sky,
The spacious promised land. The Lord of all the vast domain
Has promised it to me,
The length and breadth of all the plain
As far as faith can see.
How glorious is my privilege!
To Thee for help I call;
I stand upon a mountain’s edge,
O save me, lest I fall!
Though much exalted in the Lord,
My strength is not my own;
Then let me tremble at His word,
And none shall cast me down. For the Poor (Book III, Hymn 57, page 588) When Hagar found the bottle spent,
And wept o’er Ishmael;
A message from the Lord was sent
To guide her to a well. Should not Elijah’s cake and cruse
Convince us at this day,
A gracious God will not refuse
Provisions by the way? His saints and servants shall be fed,
The promise is secure;
"Bread shall be given them," as He said,
"Their water shall be sure."
Repasts far richer they shall prove,
Than all earth’s dainties are;
’Tis sweet to taste a Saviour’s love,
Though in the meanest fare. To Jesus then your trouble bring,
Nor murmur at your lot;
While you are poor and He is King,
You shall not be forgot. My Soul thirsteth for God (Book III, Hymn 61, page 589-90)
I thirst, but not as once I did,
The vain delights of earth to share;
Thy wounds, Emmanuel, all forbid
That I should seek my pleasures there.
It was the sight of Thy dear cross
First wean’d my soul from earthly things;
And taught me to esteem as dross
The mirth of fools and pomp of kings.
I want that grace that springs from Thee,
That quickens all things where it flows,
And makes a wretched thorn like me
Bloom as the myrtle, or the rose.
Dear fountain of delight unknown!
No longer sink below the brim;
But overflow, and pour me down
A living and life-giving stream! For sure of all the plants that share
The notice of thy Father’s eye,
None proves less grateful to His care,
Or yields him meaner fruit than I.
Love constrained to Obedience (Book III, Hymn 62, page 590) No strength of nature can suffice
To serve the Lord aright:
And what she has she misapplies,
For want of clearer light.
How long beneath the law I lay
In bondage and distress;
I toll’d the precept to obey,
But toil’d without success.
Then, to abstain from outward sin
Was more than I could do;
Now, if I feel its power within,
I feel I hate it too.
Then all my servile works were done
A righteousness to raise;
Now, freely chosen in the Son,
I freely choose His ways.
"What shall I do," was then the word,
"That I may worthier grow?"
"What shall I render to the Lord?"
Is my inquiry now. To see the law by Christ fulfilled
And hear His pardoning voice,
Changes a slave into a child,
And duty into choice. The Heart healed and changed by Mercy (Book III, Hymn 63, page 590)
Sin enslaved me many years,
And led me bound and blind;
Till at length a thousand fears
Came swarming o’er my mind.
"Where," said I, in deep distress,
"Will these sinful pleasures end?
How shall I secure my peace
And make the Lord my friend?"
Friends and ministers said much
The gospel to enforce;
But my blindness still was such,
I chose a legal course:
Much I fasted, watch’d, and strove,
Scarce would shew my face abroad,
Fear’d almost to speak or move,
A stranger still to God.
Thus afraid to trust His grace,
Long time did I rebel;
Till despairing of my case,
Down at His feet I fell:
Then my stubborn heart He broke,
And subdued me to His sway;
By a simple word He spoke,
"Thy sins are done away."
Hatred of Sin (Book III, Hymn 64, page 590-91)
Holy Lord God! I love Thy truth,
Nor dare Thy least commandment slight;
Yet pierced by sin the serpent’s tooth,
I mourn the anguish of the bite. But though the poison lurks within,
Hope bids me still with patience wait;
Till death shall set me free from sin,
Free from the only thing I hate. Had I a throne above the rest,
Where angels and archangels dwell,
One sin, unslain, within my breast,
Would make that heaven as dark as hell. The prisoner sent to breathe fresh air,
And blest with liberty again,
Would mourn were he condemn’d to wear
One link of all his former chain.
But, oh! no foe invades the bliss,
When glory crowns the Christian’s head;
One look at Jesus as he is,
Will strike all sin forever dead. The New Convert (Book III, Hymn 68, page 592) The new-born child of gospel grace,
Like some fair tree when summer’s nigh,
Beneath Emmanuel’s shining face
Lifts up his blooming branch on high. No fears he feels, he sees no foes,
No conflict yet his faith employs,
Nor has he learnt to whom he owes
The strength and peace his soul enjoys. But sin soon darts its cruel sting,
And comforts sinking day by day,
What seem’d his own, a self-fed spring,
Proves but a brook that glides away. When Gideon arm’d his numerous host,
The Lord soon made his numbers less;
And said, "Lest Israel vainly boast,
My arm procured me this success!"
Thus will He bring our spirits down,
And draw our ebbing comforts low,
That saved by grace, but not our own,
We may not claim the praise we owe.
True and False Comforts (Book III, Hymn 69, page 592) O God, whose favorable eye,
The sin-sick soul revives,
Holy and heavenly is the joy
Thy shining presence gives. Not such as hypocrites suppose,
Who with a graceless heart,
Taste not of Thee, but drink a dose
Prepared by Satan’s art.
Intoxicating joys are theirs,
Who while they boast their light,
And seem to soar above the stars,
Are plunging into night.
Lull’d in a soft and fatal sleep,
They sin and yet rejoice;
Were they indeed the Saviour’s sheep,
Would they not hear His voice? Be mine the comforts that reclaim
The soul from Satan’s power;
That make me blush for what I am,
And hate my sin the more.
’Tis joy enough, my All in All,
At Thy dear feet to lie;
Thou wilt not let me lower fall,
And none can higher fly. A living and dead Faith (Book III, Hymn 71, page 593) The Lord receives his highest praise
From humble minds and hearts sincere;
While all the loud professor says
Offends the righteous Judge’s ear. To walk as children of the day,
To mark the precepts’ holy light,
To wage the warfare, watch, and pray,
Show who are pleasing in His sight. Not words alone it cost the Lord,
To purchase pardon for His own;
Nor will a soul by grace restor’d,
Return the Saviour words alone. With golden bells, the priestly vest,
And rich pomegranates border’d round,
The need of holiness express’d,
And called for fruit as well as sound.
Easy indeed it were to reach
A mansion in the courts above,
If swelling words and fluent speech
Might serve instead of faith and love. But none shall gain the blissful place,
Or God’s unclouded glory see,
Who talks of free and sov’reign grace,
Unless that grace has made him free!
Abuse of the Gospel (Book III, Hymn 72, page 593-94)
Too many, Lord, abuse Thy grace
In this licentious day,
And while they boast they see Thy face,
They turn their own away.
Thy book displays a gracious light
That can the blind restore;
But these are dazzled by the sight,
And blinded still the more. The pardon such presume upon,
They do not beg but steal;
And when they plead it at Thy throne,
Oh! where’s the Spirit’s seal? Was it for this, ye lawless tribe,
The dear Redeemer bled?
Is this the grace the saints imbibe
From Christ the living head?
Ah, Lord, we know Thy chosen few
Are fed with heavenly fare;
But these, -- the wretched husks they chew,
Proclaim them what they are. The liberty our hearts implore
Is not to live in sin;
But still to wait at Wisdom’s door,
Till Mercy calls us in. The Narrow Way (Book III, Hymn 73, page 594)
What thousands never knew the road!
What thousands hate it when ’tis known!
None but the chosen tribes of God
Will seek or choose it for their own. A thousand ways in ruin end,
One only leads to joys on high;
By that my willing steps ascend,
Pleased with a journey to the sky. No more I ask or hope to find
Delight or happiness below;
Sorrow may well possess the mind
That feeds where thorns and thistles grow. The joy that fades is not for me,
I seek immortal joys above;
There glory without end shall be
The bright reward of faith and love.
Cleave to the world, ye sordid worms,
Contented lick your native dust!
But God shall fight with all his storms,
Against the idol of your trust.
Dependence (Book III, Hymn 74, page 594) To keep the lamp alive,
With oil we fill the bowl;
’Tis water makes the willow thrive,
And grace that feeds the soul. The Lord’s unsparing hand
Supplies the living stream;
It is not at our own command,
But still derived from Him.
Beware of Peter’s word,
Nor confidently say,
"I never will deny Thee, Lord," --
But, -- "Grant I never may."
Man’s wisdom is to seek
His strength in God alone;
And e’en an angel would be weak,
Who trusted in his own.
Retreat beneath his wings,
And in His gace confide!
This more exalts the King of kings
Than all your works beside. In Jesus is our store,
Grace issues from His throne;
Whoever says, "I want no more,"
Confesses he has done. Not of Works (Book III, Hymn 75, page 594-95)
Grace, triumphant in the throne,
Scorns a rival, reigns alone;
Come and bow beneath her sway;
Cast your idol works away!
Works of man, when made his plea,
Never shall accepted be;
Fruits of pride (vainglorious worm!)
Are the best he can perform.
Self, the god his soul adores,
Influences all his powers;
Jesus is a slighted name,
Self-advancement all his aim:
But when God the Judge shall come,
To pronounce the final doom,
Then for rocks and hills to hide
All his works and all his pride!
Still the boasting heart replies,
What the worthy and the wise,
Friends to temperance and peace,
Have not these a righteousness?
Banish every vain pretence
Built on human excellence;
Perish everything in man,
But the grace that never can.
Praise for Faith (Book III, Hymn 80, page 596) Of all the gifts Thine hand bestows,
Thou Giver of all good!
Not heaven itself a richer knows
Than my Redeemer’s blood.
Faith too, the blood-receiving grace,
From the same hand we gain;
Else, sweetly as it suits our case,
That gift had been in vain.
Till Thou Thy teaching power apply,
Our hearts refuse to see,
And weak, as a distemper’d eye,
Shut out the view of Thee.
Blind to the merits of Thy Son,
What misery we endure!
Yet fly that Hand from which alone
We could expect a cure.
We praise Thee, and would praise Thee more,
To Thee our all we owe:
The precious Saviour, and the power
That makes Him precious too.
Grace and Providence (Book III, Hymn 81, page 597)
Almighty King! whose wondrous hand
Supports the weight of sea and land;
Whose grace is such a boundless store,
No heart shall break that sighs for more.
Thy providence supplies my food,
And ’tis Thy blessing makes it good;
My soul is nourish’d by Thy Word,
Let soul and body praise the Lord! My streams of outward comfort came
From Him who built this earthly frame;
Whate’er I want His bounty gives,
By whom my soul forever lives.
Either His hand preserves from pain,
Or, if I feel it, heals again;
From Satan’s malice shields my breast,
Or overrules it for the best.
Forgive the song that falls so low
Beneath the gratitude I owe!
It means Thy praise: however poor,
An angel’s song can do no more.
I will praise the Lord at all Times (Book III, Hymn 83, page 597-98)
Winter has a joy for me,
While the Saviour’s charms I read,
Lowly, meek, from blemish free,
In the snowdrop’s pensive head.
Spring returns, and brings along
Life-invigorating suns:
Hark! the turtle’s plaintive song
Seems to speak His dying groans!
Summer has a thousand charms,
All expressive of His worth;
’Tis His sun that lights and warms,
His the air the cools the earth.
What! has autumn left to say
Nothing of a Saviour’s grace?
Yes, the beams of milder day
Tell me of his smiling face.
Light appears with early dawn,
While the sun makes haste to rise;
See His bleeding beauties drawn
On the blushes of the skies.
Evening with a silent pace,
Slowly moving in the west,
Shews an emblem of His grace,
Points to an eternal rest. This article was made available on the internet via REFORMATION INK (www.markers.com/ink). Refer any correspondence to Shane Rosenthal: Rosenthal2000@aol.com