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The fubftance of the following Copy, and many of the lines, were fent me by an esteemed friend, Mr. W. Nokes, with a defire that I would form them into a Pindaric Ode; but I retained his measures, left I fhould too much alter his fenfe.

A Sight of CHRIST.

ANGELS of light, your God and King furround,

With noble fongs; in his exalted flesh

He claims your worship; while his faints on earth,
Blefs their Redeemer-God with humble tongues.
Angels with lofty honours crown his head;
We bowing at his feet, by faith, may feel
His diftant influence, and confefs his love.

Once I beheld his face, when beams divine
Broke from his eye-lids, and unusual light
Wrapt me at once in glory and furprize..
My joyful heart high leaping in my breast
With transport cry'd, This is the Chrift of God;
Then threw my arms around in fweet embrace,
And clafp'd, and bow'd adoring low, till I was loft in him.

While he appears, no other charms can hold Or draw my foul, afham'd of former things, Which no remembrance now deferve or name, Though with contempt; beft in oblivion hid.


But the bright fhine and prefence foon withdrew ;
I fought him whom I love, but found him not;
I felt his abfence; and with strongest cries
Proclaim'd, Where Jefus is not, all is vain.
Whether I hold him with a full delight,
Or feek him panting with extreme defire,
'Tis he alone can please my wondering foul;
To hold or feek him is my only choice.
If he refrain on me to caft his eye

Down from his palace, nor my longing foul
With upward look can fpy my dearest Lord
Through his blue pavement, I'll behold him still
With fweet reflection on the peaceful cross,
All in his blood and anguish groaning deep,
Gafping and dying there

This fight I ne'er can lofe, by it I live :
A quickening virtue from his death inspir'd
Is life and breath to me; his flesh my food;

His vital blood I drink, and hence my strength.

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I live, I'm ftrong, and now eternal life

Beats quick within my breast; my vigorous mind
Spurns the dull earth, and on her fiery wings
Reaches the mount of purposes divine,

Counfels of peace betwixt th' Almighty Three
Conceiv'd at once, and fign'd without debate,
In perfect union of th' eternal mind.

With vaft amaze I fee th' unfathom'd thoughts,
Infinite schemes, and infinite defigns

Of God's own Heart, in which he ever refts.


Eternity lies open to my view;

Here the Beginning and the End of all
I can discover; Chrift the End of all,
And Chrift the great Beginning; he my Head,
My God, my Glory, and my All in All.

O that the day, the joyful day were come,
When the first Adam from his ancient duft.
Crown'd with new honours fhall revive, and fee
Jefus his Son and Lord; while fhouting faints
Suround their King, and God's Eternal Son
Shines in the midft, but with fuperior beams,
And like himself; then the mysterious Word
Long hid behind the letter fhall appear
All spirit and life, and in the fulleft light
Stand forth to public view: and there disclose
His Father's facred works, and wondrous ways:
Then wisdom, righteoufnefs, and grace divine,
Through all the infinite tranfactions paft
Inwrought and fhining, fhall with double blaze
Strike our astonish'd eyes, and ever reign
Admir'd and glorious in triumphant light.

Death, and the tempter, and the man of fin,
New at the bar arraign'd, in judgment caft,
Shall vex the faints no more: but perfect love
And loudest praises perfect joy create,

While ever-circling years maintain the blissful state.



LOVE on a CROSS, and a THRONE.

OW let my faith grow ftrong, and rife,

And view my Lord in all his love;
Look back to hear his dying cries,
Then mount and fee his throne above.

See where he languish'd on the Cross;
Beneath my fins he groan'd and dy'd;
See where he fits to plead my cause
By his Almighty Father's Side.
If I behold his bleeding Heart,
There love in floods of forrow reigns,
He triumphs o'er the killing fmart,
And buys my pleasure with his pains.
Or if I climb th' eternal hills
Where the dear Conqueror fits enthron'd,
Still in his heart compaffion dwells,
Near the memorials of his wound.

How fhall a pardon'd rebel show
How much I love my dying God?
Lord, here I banish every foe,

I hate the fins that coft thy blood.

I hold no more commerce with hell,
My deareft lufts fhall all depart;
But let thine image ever dwell
Stampt as a feal upon my heart.

A Pre

A Preparatory THOUGHT for the LORD'S


In Imitation of ISAIAH lxiii. 1, 2, 3.

WHAT heavenly Man, or lovely God,

Comes marching downward from the skies,
Array'd in garments roll'd in blood,
With joy and pity in his eyes.

The Lord! the Saviour! yes, 'tis he;
I know him by the fimiles he wears;
Dear glorious Man that dy'd for me,
Drench'd deep in agonies and tears!
Lo, he reveals his fhining breaft;
I own thofe wounds, and I adore :
Lo, he prepares a royal feast,
Sweet fruit of the fharp pangs he bore!
Whence flow thefe favours fo divine!
Lord why fo lavish of thy blood?
Why for fuch earthly fouls as mine,
This heavenly flesh, this facred food?

'Twas his own love that made him bleed,
That nail'd him to the curfed tree;
'Twas his own love this table fpread
For fuch unworthy worms as we.

Then let us tafte the Saviour's love;
Come, faith, and feed upon the Lord:
With glad confent our lips fhall move,
And fweet Hofannas crown the board.


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