Was it for this, ye lawless tribe,
The dear Redeemer bled?
Is this the grace the saints imbibe
From Christ the living head?

Ah, Lord, we know thy chosen few
Are fed with heavenly fare;
But these, the wretched husks they
chew

Proclaim them what they are.

The liberty our hearts implore

Is not to live in sin;

But still to wait at Wisdom's door, Till Mercy calls us in.

LXII. THE NARROW WAY.

WHAT thousands never knew the road! What thousands hate it when 'tis known!

None but the chosen tribes of God Will seek or choose it for their own.

A thousand ways in ruin end,

One only leads to joys on high; By that my willing steps ascend, Pleased with a journey to the sky.

No more I ask or hope to find

Delight or happiness below;
Sorrow may well possess the mind
That feeds where thorns and thistles
grow.

The joy that fades is not for me,
I seek immortal joys above;
There glory without end shall be
The bright reward of faith and love.

Cleave to the world, ye sordid worms,

Contented lick your native dust! But God shall fight with all his storms Against the idol of your trust.

LXIII. DEPENDENCE.

To keep the lamp alive,
With oil we fill the bowl;

'Tis water makes the willow thrive, And grace that feeds the soul.

GRACE, triumphant in the throne,
Scorns a rival, reigns alone;
Come and bow beneath her sway,
Cast your idol works away!
Works of man, when made his plea,,
Never shall accepted be;
Fruits of pride (vain-glorious worm!)
Are the best he can perform.

Self, the god his soul adores,
Influences all his powers;
Jesus is a slighted name,
Self-advancement all his aim:
But when God the Judge shall come
To pronounce the final doom,
Then for rocks and hills to hide
All his works and all his pride!

LXV. PRAISE FOR FAITH.
Of all the gifts thine hand bestows,
Thou Giver of all good!
Not heaven itself a richer knows
Than my Redeemer's blood.

Faith too, the blood-receiving grace,
From the same hand we gain;
Else, sweetly as it suits our case,
That gift had been in vain.

Till thou thy teaching power apply,
Our hearts refuse to see,
And weak, as a distempered eye.
Shut out the view of thee.

Blind to the merits of thy Son,

What misery we endure!
Yet fly that hand from which alone
We could expect a cure.

We praise thee, and would praise thee
To thee our all we owe; [more,
The precious Saviour, and the power
That makes him precious too.

LXVI. GRACE AND PRO-
VIDENCE.

ALMIGHTY King! whose wondrous hand
Supports the weight of sea and land;
Whose grace is such a boundless store,
No heart shall break that sighs for more;
Thy providence supplies my food,
And 'tis thy blessing makes it good;
My soul is nourished by thy word:
Let soul and body praise the Lord!

My streams of outward comfort came
From him who built this earthly frame;
Whate'er I want his bounty gives,
By whom my soul for ever lives.

Either his hand preserves from pain,
Or, if I feel it, heals again;
From Satan's malice shields my breast,
Or overrules it for the best.

Forgive the song that falls so low
Beneath the gratitude I owe!
It means thy praise, however poor,
An angel's song can do no more.

LXVII. I WILL PRAISE THE LORD AT ALL TIMES. WINTER has a joy for me,

While the Saviour's charms I read, Lowly, meek, from blemish free, In the snowdrop's pensive head. Spring returns, and brings along Life-invigorating suns: Hark! the turtle's plaintive song Seems to speak his dying groans! Summer has a thousand charms, All expressive of his worth; 'Tis his sun that lights and warms, His the air that cools the earth. What! has Autumn left to say

Nothing of a Saviour's grace?
Yes, the beams of milder day
Tell me of his smiling face.

Light appears with early dawn,
While the sun makes haste to rise;
See his bleeding beauties drawn

On the blushes of the skies.

Evening with a silent pace,

Slowly moving in the west, Shows an emblem of his grace, Points to an eternal rest.

LXVIII. LONGING TO BE
WITH CHRIST.

To Jesus, the Crown of my Hope,
My soul is in haste to be gone;
Oh bear me, ye cherubim, up,

And waft me away to his throne ! My Saviour, whom absent I love, Whom, not having seen, I adore; Whose name is exalted above

All glory, dominion, and power; Dissolve thou these bonds, that detain

My soul from her portion in thee,
Ah! strike off this adamant chain,
And make me eternally free.

When that happy era begins,
When arrayed in thy glories I shine,
Nor grieve any more, by my sins,
The bosom on which I recline;