I would rather in exile remain, Than lead the rash life I despise : Licentiousness ends but in pain— The contempt of the good and the wise. ODE ON THE LOSS OF TIME. See that ye walk circumspectly; not as fools, but as wise, redeeming the time because the days are evil. Ephes. ch. v. ver. 15. WHEN I think of the days that are past, Of the months-of the years-that are flown; When I know not how long they may last, Or how soon this short life may be gone: When into my Bible I look, And see what my life should have been ; My practice compare with my book, And view such an opposite scene : When I read of the regions of bliss For those that have walk'd in its way; Or look on the frightful abyss For sinners that wander and stray: Whilst I stand on eternity's brink And reflect what my being has cost; From the past and the future I shrink, And weep for the time that is lost! O Jesus! my Lord and my friend, Who diedst for my soul on the cross, Once more let thy mercy descend Thy merits recover my loss. Record not the years so misspent ;-- Lest I perish before I repent, And perish alas! in despair. O grant me thy grace to begin A life from ingratitude free A life of abhorrence of sin A life of affiance in thee. A HYMN ON THE JUDGMENT-DAY. From the twenty-fifth Chapter of St. Matthew. When thou, Great Judge! with glory crown'd Shalt bid the last loud trumpet sound; When from their graves the dead shall rise And trembling millions seek the skies; Thrice happy they! whose anxious fear, To whom thy gracious love shall say— "When hunger drove me to your door; "Or thirsty I besought your store; "Your hands the kind repast bestow'd, "And led me where sweet waters flow'd: "When want compell'd my feet to roam "A stranger reft of house and home "Your care my naked state improv'd, "And all my poverty remov'd: "When on the bed of sickness laid, "Or pining in the dungeon shade ; "Your visits taught me there to pray, "And wip'd my bitter tears away." Lord, at that dread tribunal spare! Let all behold a Saviour there! There let thy tender mercies shine And clothe us with a robe divine. Printed by Manning and Smithson, Ivy Lane, Paternoster Row. |