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A PRAYER

LEADER of thy faithful few,

Faithful but as kept by thee,
As my journey I pursue,

Let mine eyes thy glory see-
Beaming on me from above,
God of truth and God of love.

O how dark the human mind,

Till thy Spirit shines within,
Cold, contracted, and confin'd,

Full of idols, self, and sin,
Till the “Light of Life” is shed
Through the chambers of the dead !

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Then the gloom is changed to gladness,

Then the soul reflects thy rays,
Then the oil of joy for sadness

Gives its fragrance forth in praise.
Be that rich anointing mine,
Lord— that praise be ever thine !

IOTA. THE AFFECTIONS OF MY SOUL,

After judgment given against me in a Court of Justice upon the evidence of False Witnesses.

RICHARD LANGHORN.

From the State Trials.

[Richard Langhorn was one of the many who suffered death on the

false evidence of Titus Oates.]

It is told me I must die.

O happy news!
Be glad, O my soul,
And rejoice in thy Saviour.

If He intended thy perdition,
Would He have laid down His life for thee?
Would He have expected thee with so much patience,
And given thee so long a time for repentance ?
Would He have called thee with so much love,
And illuminated thee with the light of His Spirit?

.

Would He have drawn thee with so great force,
And favoured thee with so many graces ?
Would He have given thee so many good desires ?
Would He have set the seal of the Predestinate upon thee,
And dressed thee in His own livery?
Would He have given thee His own cross,
And given thee shoulders to bear it with patience ?

,

It is told me I must die.

O happy news!
Come on, my dearest soul,
Behold thy Jesus calls thee!

He prayed for thee upon the cross ;
There He extended His arms to receive thee;
There He bow'd down His head to kiss thee;
There He cried out with a powerful voice,
“Father, receive him, he is mine
There He opened His heart to give thee entrance;
There He gave up His life to purchase life for thee.

It is told me I must die.

O happy news!
I shall be freed from misery,
I shall no more suffer pain,
I shall no more be subject to sin,
I shall no more be in fear of being lost.

But from henceforth
I shall see and I shall live,
I shall praise and I shall bless;
And this I shall always do,
Without ever being weary
Of doing what I always am to do.

It is told me I must die.

O what happiness!

I am going
To the place of my rest;
To the land of the living;
To the haven of security;
To the kingdom of peace;

To the palace of my God;
To the nuptials of the Lamb;
To sit at the table of my King;
To feed on the bread of angels;
To see what no eye hath

seen; To hear what no ear hath heard; To enjoy what the heart of man cannot comprehend.

O my Father,

O thou, the best of fathers, Have pity on the most wretched of all thy children. I was lost, but by thy mercy am now found: I was dead, but by thy grace am now raised again:

was gone astray after vanity, But am now ready to appear before thee.

O my Father,
Come now in mercy and receive thy child !

Give him the kiss of peace,

Show him the remission of his sins,
Clothe him with thy nuptial robe,

Receive him into thy house,

Permit him to have a place at thy feast, And forgive all those who are guilty of his death.

LANGHORN.

ON A SEAL

WITH THE DEVICE, A BUTTERFLY BURSTING ITS SHELL, AND THE MOTTO,

À DIEU.”

Burst, O my soul, this shell of clay,

Mount up to God and soar away,
On silver wings and plumes of brightest gold:

Grovel no more on this vile earth,

Taste the full joys of thy new birth Joys which no eye hath seen, no tongue hath told.

S.

THE SABBATH'S RETURN.

Hail to thee, Day of Pleasure, Day of Love!
Brightly descending from above,
With so much of heaven itself upon thy wing,
As is in the bright glistening
Of the first morning dew-drops of the beam
That shines

it with so rich a stream :
It seems itself a gem— and it is one,
Although so quickly gone.
O how I love thee! Every other day-
Like the worn pack-horse, weary as he lay
Beneath his burden, waked at dawn
To make his journey on-
The bosom, scarce ungirdled of its care,
The pulse of yesternight still throbbing there,
Wakes to its eager doings—toiling still,
Or come there good or ill.

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