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ON THE AUTHOR'S BLINDNESS.
WHEN I consider how my light is spent
Ere half my days, in this dark world and wide;
To serve therewith my Maker, and present
My true account, lest He, returning, chide;"Doth God exact day-labour, light denied?" I fondly ask But Patience, to prevent That murmur, soon replies,- "God doth not need Either man's work, or his own gifts; who best Bear his mild yoke, they serve Him best; his state
Is kingly; thousands at his bidding speed,
And post o'er land and ocean without rest;
They also serve, who only stand and wait."
BLEST pair of Syrens, pledges of Heaven's joy,
Aye sung before the sapphire-coloured throne,
With saintly shout, and solemn jubilee :
Singing everlastingly :
That we on earth, with undiscording voice
May rightly answer that melodious noise;
As once we did, till disproportioned sin
Jarred against nature's chime, and with harsh din Broke the fair music that all creatures made,
To their great Lord, whose love their motion swayed In perfect diapason, whilst they stood
In first obedience, and their state of good.
Oh, may we soon again renew that song,
And keep in tune with heaven, till God ere long
To live with him, and sing in endless morn of light.
MANY are the sayings of the wise
In ancient and in modern books enrolled,
With studied argument, and much persuasion sought,
But with th' afflicted in his pangs their sound
Little prevails, or rather seems a tune
Harsh, and of dissonant mood from his conjuring up.
Unless he feels within
Some source of consolation from above,
"" HAVING A DESIRE TO DEPART, AND TO BE WITH
LORD, it belongs not to my care,
Whether I die or live;
To live and serve Thee is my share,
If short, yet why should I be sad,
Christ leads me through no darker rooms
He that unto God's kingdom comes
Must enter by this door.
Come, Lord! when grace has made me meet
Thy blessed face to see;
For if Thy work on earth be sweet,
What must Thy glory be?