VI. JOY. "In whom, though now ye see Him not, yet believing, ye rejoice with joy unspeakable, and full of glory." -I PET. i. 8.) CCCLXXVII. My God, the Spring of all my joys, The Glory of my brightest days, In darkest shades if He appear, He is my soul's sweet Morning-star, And He my rising Sun. The opening heavens around me shine While Jesus shows, His heart is mine, My soul would leave this heavy clay Fearless of hell and ghastly death, CCCLXXVIII. Far from the world, O Lord, I flee, From scenes where Satan wages still The calm retreat, the silent shade, There, if Thy Spirit touch the soul, Oh with what peace, and joy, and love, 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; What thanks I owe Thee, and what love, Shall echo through the realms above When time shall be no more! William Cowper. 1779. CCCLXXIX. There's not a bird, with lonely nest There's not a being now accurst, Each barren crag, each desert rude, And Thou dost bless the wanderer there, In busy mart and crowded street, Thou, Lord, art near, our souls to bless And every moment still doth bring Widely they spread through earth and sky, Through all creation let Thy Name And we, where'er our lot is cast, CCCLXXX. The child leans on its parent's breast, And tells aloud His trust in God, and so is blest He has no store, he sows no seed ; Men, who forget, in fear of need, A Father's Name.. The heart that trusts for ever sings, Come good or ill, Whate'er to-day, to-morrow brings, It is His will! Isaac Williams. [1842.] CCCLXXXI. Why comes this fragrance on the summer breeze, The blended tribute of ten thousand flowers, To me, a frequent wanderer 'inid the trees That form these gay, though solitary bowers? One answer is around, beneath, above; Why bursts such melody from tree and bush, Why leaps the streamlet down the mountain's side. In starry heavens, at the midnight hour, In ever-varying hues at morning's dawn, In the fair bow athwart the falling shower, In forest, river, lake, rock, hill, and lawn, One truth is written: all conspire to prove, What grace of old reveal'd, that God is Love! Nor less this pulse of health, far glancing eye, Is it a fallen world on which I gaze? It is as if an unseen spirit strove To grave upon my heart, that God is Love! Yet wouldst thou see, my soul, this truth display'd In characters which wondering angels read, And read, adoring; go, imploring aid To gaze with faith, behold the Saviour bleed! Thy God, in human form! O, what can prove, If this suffice thee not, that God is Love? |