A CONTEMPLATION,

SUGGESTED BY REVELATION, vii. 9–17.

I SAW, and lo! a countless throng,

The elect of every nation, name, and tongue,
Assembled round the everlasting throne;
With robes of white endu’d

(The righteousness of God),

And each a palm sustained

In his victorious hand;

When thus the bright, melodious choir began;

"Salvation to thy name,

Eternal God, and co-eternal Lamb,

In power, in glory, and in essence, One!"
So sang the saints; the angelic train.
Second the anthem with a loud Amen.
(These in the outer circle stood,
The saints were nearest God);

And prostrate fall, with glory overpowered,
And hide their faces with their wings,
And thus address the King of kings:
"All hail, by thy triumphant Church adored!
Blessing, and thanks, and honour too,
Are thy supreme, thy everlasting due,
Our tri-une Sovereign, our propitious Lord!"
While I beheld the amazing sight,

A seraph pointed to the saints in white,

And told me who they were, and whence they came:

"These are they whose lot below

Was persecution, pain, and woe;

These are the chosen, purchased flock,
Who ne'er their Lord forsook:

Through His imputed merit, free from blame,

Redeemed from every sin;

And, as thou seest, whose garments were made clean,

Washed in the blood of yon exalted Lamb.
Saved by His righteousness alone,
Spotless they stand before the throne,
And in th' ethereal temple chant His praise;
Himself among them deigns to dwell,
And face to face His light reveal;
Hunger and thirst, as heretofore,

And pain, and heat, they know no more;
Nor need, as once, the sun's prolific rays;
Immanuel here His people feeds,

To streams of joy perennial leads,

And wipes, for ever wipes, the tears from ev'ry face."

Happy the souls released from fear,

And safely landed there!

Some of the shining number once I knew,

And travelled with them here;

(Nay, some, my elder brethren now),

Set later out for heaven; my junior saints below;
Long after me, they heard the call of grace,
Which waked them unto righteousness.
How they have got beyond!

Converted last, yet first with glory crowned!

Little, once, I thought that these

Would first the summit gain,

And leave me far behind, slow journeying through the plain! Loved while on earth; nor less beloved though gone;

Think not I envy you your crown;

No; if I could, I would not call you down.

Though slower is my pace,

To you I'll follow on,

Leaning on Jesus all the way,

Who, now and then, lets fall a ray
Of comfort from His throne.

The shinings of His grace

Soften my passage through the wilderness,

And vines, nectareous, spring where briars grew.
The sweet unveilings of His face

Make me, at times, near half as blest as you.
O might His beauty feast my ravished eyes,
His gladdening presence ever stay,
And cheer me all my journey through!
But soon the clouds return; my triumph dies,
Damp vapours from the valley rise,

And hide the hill at Zion from my view.

Spirit of Light, thrice-holy Dove,

Brighten my sense of interest in that love,
Which knew no birth, and never shall expire!
Electing goodness, firm and free,

My whole salvation hangs on thee,
Eldest and fairest daughter of eternity.
Redemption, grace, and glory too,
Our bliss above, and hopes below,
From her, their parent fountain, flow:

Ah, tell me, Lord, that thou hast chosen me!

Thou, who hast kindled my intense desire,

Fulfil the wish thy influence did inspire,

And let me my election know!

Then, when thy summons bids me come up higher, Well pleased I shall from life retire,

And join the burning hosts, beheld at distance now.

TOPLADY.

THE METHOD OF SALVATION.

THEE, Father, we bless,

Whose distinguishing grace

Selected a people to show forth thy praise;
Nor is thy love known

By election alone;

For, oh, thou hast added the gift of thy Son!

The goodness in vain

We attempt to explain,

Which found and accepted a ransom for men;

Great Surety of thine,

Thou didst not decline

To concur with the Father's most gracious design.

To Jesus our Friend,

Our thanks shall ascend,

Who saves to the utmost, and loves to the end; Our ransom He paid,

In His merit arrayed

We attain to the glory for which we were made.

Sweet Spirit of grace,
Thy mercy we bless

For thy eminent share in the council of peace;

Great Agent Divine,

To restore us is thine,

And cause us afresh in thy likeness to shine.

O God, 'tis thy part

To convince and convert,

To give a new life, and create a new heart;
By thy presence and grace

We're upheld in our race,

And are kept in thy love to the end of our days.

Father, Spirit, and Son,

Agree thus in One,

The salvation of those He has marked for His own.

Let us, too, agree

To glorify thee,

Thou ineffable One, thou adorable Three!

TOPLADY.

ON THE DEATH OF MR. R. V.

"Be not slothful, but followers of them who through faith and patience inherit the promises." Heb. vi. 12.

THE crown of righteousness is given,
Our friend is landed safe in heaven;
His warfare now accomplished is,
And face to face his Lord he sees.

For ever now redeemed from pain,
He did not run nor strive in vain;
With triumph from his clay released,
Translated to his place of rest.