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Thy choice and mine shall be the same,
Which must for ever blaze !
My portion and my praise.
JOY IN MARTYRDOM.
Sweet tenants of this grove,
Who sing, without design,
In unison with mine:
Full many a note of ours,
With all their boasted powers.
O Thou ! whose sacred charms
These hearts so seldom love,
And blesses all above;
To choose their happiest lot!
Say why we love thee not?
This heart, that cannot rest,
Shall thine for ever prove;
Yet joyful in thy love:
Still, still, without ceasing,
I feel it increasing,
And often exclaim,
Let me die in the flame
Had I words to explain
What she must sustain
How joy and affright,
Distress and delight, Alternately chequer her days.
Thou, sweetly severe !
I would make thee appear,
Not more in the sweet
Than the bitter I meet,
This Faith, in the dark
Pursuing its mark
Is the sorrowful waste
That is to be pass'd
THE NECESSITY OF SELF-ABASEMENT.
SOURCE of love, my brighter sun,
Thou alone my comfort art; See, my race is almost run;
Hast thou left this trembling heart?
In my youth thy charming eyes
of men; Then I drank unmingled joys;
Frown of thine saw never then.
Spouse of Christ was then my name;
And devoted all to thee, Strangely jealous, I became
Jealous of this Self in me.
Thee to love, and none beside,
Was my darling, sole employ; While alternately I died,
Now of grief, and now of joy. Through the dark and silent night
On thy radiant smiles I dwelt; And to see the dawning light
Was the keenest pain I felt.
Thou my gracious teacher wert;
And thine eye, so close applied, While it watch'd thy pupil's heart,
Seem'd to look at none beside.
Conscious of no evil drift,
This, I cried, is Love indeed 'Tis the Giver, not the Gift,
Whence the joys I feel proceed.
But soon humbled, and laid low,
Stript of all thou hast conferr'd, Nothing left but sin and woe,
I perceived how I had errd.
Oh the vain conceit of man,
Dreaming of a good his own, Arrogating all he can,
Though the Lord is good alone!
He the graces thou hast wrought
Makes subservient to his pride ; Ignorant, that one such thought
Passes all his sin beside.
Such his folly,-proved, at last,
By the loss of that repose Self-complacence cannot taste,
Only Love Divine bestows. "Tis by this reproof severe,
And by this reproof alone, His defects at last appear,
Man is to himself made known.
Learn, all Earth! that feeble man,
Sprung from this terrestrial clod, Nothing is, and nothing can;
Life and power are all in God.
LOVE INCREASED BY SUFFERING.
“I LOVE the Lord,” is still the strain
This heart delights to sing;
Perhaps 'tis no such thing.
Before the power of Love Divine
Creation fades away;
In all that we survey.
In gulfs of aweful night we find
The God of our desires; 'Tis there he stamps the yielding mind,
And doubles all its fires.
Flames of encircling love invest,
And pierce it sweetly through ; 'Tis fill'd with sacred joy, yet press'd
With sacred sorrow too.
Ah Love! my heart is in the right
Amidst a thousand woes, To thee, it's ever new delight, And all its peace
Fresh causes of distress occur
Where'er I look or move; The comforts I to all prefer
Are solitude and love.