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"FROM WHOM COMETH EVERY GOOD AND PERFECT
My stock lies dead, and no increase
If still the sun should hide his face,
The dew doth every morning fall;
And shall the dew outstrip thy Dove?
Death is still working like a mole,
grace work too, and on my soul
Sin is still hammering my heart,
Unto a hardness, void of love : Let suppl'ing grace, to cross his art, Drop from above.
O come, for thou dost know the way; Or, if to me thou wilt not move, Remove me where I need not say,— Drop from above.
Then let wrath remove;
Love will do the deed:
For with love
Stony hearts will bleed.
Love is swift of foot:
Love's a man of war,
And can shoot,
And can hit from far.
Who can 'scape his bow ?
That which wrought on Thee,
Brought Thee low,
Needs must work on me :
Throw away Thy rod;
Though man frailties hath;
Thou art God:
Throw away Thy wrath.
"DOING ALL TO THE GLORY OF GOD."
TEACH me, my God and King,
In all things thee to see, And what I do in anything, To do it as for thee:
Not rudely, as a beast,
A man that looks on glass,
All may of thee partake:
Nothing can be so mean,
Which with his tincture For thy sake'
Will not grow bright and clean.