Engine against th' Almightie, finner's towre,
Reversed thunder, Chrift-fide-piercing spear,
The fix-daies-world transpofing in an houre,
A kinde of tune, which all things heare and fear.

Softneffe, and peace, and joy, and love, and bliffe,
Exalted Manna, gladneffe of the best,

Heaven in ordinarie, man well dreft,

The milkie way, the bird of Paradise.

Church-bells beyond the ftars heard, the foul's blood,

The land of spices, something understood.

GEORGE HERbert.

XXXVI.

PRAYER.

RAYER is the foul's fincere defire,
Utter'd or unexpreff'd ;

The motion of a hidden fire,

That trembles in the breast.

Prayer is the burthen of a figh,
The falling of a tear,

The upward glancing of an eye,
When none but God is near.

Prayer is the fimpleft form of speech
That infant lips can try;

Prayer the fublimeft strains that reach
The Majesty on high.

Prayer is the Chriftian's vital breath,
The Chriftian's native air,
His watchword at the gates of death;
He enters Heaven with prayer.

Prayer is the contrite finner's voice,
Returning from his ways;
While Angels in their fongs rejoice,
And cry, "Behold he prays!"

The faints in prayer appear as one,
In word, and deed, and mind;
While with the Father and the Son

Their fellowship they find.

Nor prayer

is made on earth alone,

The Holy Spirit pleads;

And Jefus on th' eternal throne

For finners intercedes.

O Thou by whom we come to God,
The Life, the Truth, the Way!
The path of prayer Thyfelf haft trod;
Lord, teach us how to pray.

JAMES MONTGOMERY.

XXXVII.

SAVOUR.

JOME fweet favour of Thy favour
Shed abroad in every heart:
Heaven-ward as to Thee we go,
Leaving guilt and fear below-
Bleffing, praifing without ceafing,
Bid us, Lord, depart.

XXXVIII.

MERCIES.

JENDER mercies on my way
Falling foftly like the dew,
Sent me freshly every day,

I will blefs the Lord for you.

OME, Brethren, let us go!

The evening closeth round;

'Tis perilous to linger here

On this wild defert ground.

Come towards eternity.

Prefs on from ftrength to ftrength,

Nor dread your journey's toils nor length, For good its end fhall be.

Come, wander on with joy,
For fhorter grows the way,

The hour that frees us from the flesh
Draws nearer day by day.

A little truth and love,

A little courage yet,

More free from earth, more apt to set Your hopes on things above.

For this all things we dare,—

"Tis worth the risk I trow,Renouncing all that clogs our course, Or weighs us down below.

O world, thou art too small,
We feek another higher,

Whither Chrift guides us ever nigher,

Where God is all in all.

Friend of our perfect choice,

Thou Joy of all that live,

Being that know'ft not chance or change,

What courage doft Thou give!

All beauty, Lord, we fee,

All blifs and life and love,

In Him in whom we live and move,

And we are glad in Thee.

TERSTEEGEN, 1731.