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CONVERSE with CHRIST.
M tir'd with vifits, modes, and forms,
Their vain amours, and empty stuff:
But I can ne'er enjoy enough
Of thy best company, my Lord, thou life of all my joys.
When he begins to tell his love,
Through every vein my paffions move,
In midnight fhades, on frofty ground,
I could attend the pleafing found,
Nor fhould I feel December cold, nor think the darkness
There, while I hear my Saviour-God
Count o'er the fins (a heavy load)
He bore upon the tree,
Inward I blufh with fecret fhame,
And weep, and love, and blafs the name [for me.
That knew not guilt nor grief his own, but bare it all Next he defcribes the thorns he wore,
And talks his bloody paffion o'er,
Till I am drown'd in tears:
Yet with the fmypathetic finart
There's a ftrange joy heats round my heart;
The curfed tree has bleffings in 't, my sweetest balm it
I hear the glorious sufferer tell,
And all the powers beneath :
Tranfported and infpir'd, my tongue
Attempts his triumphs in a fong;
"How has the ferpent loft his fting! and where 's thy victory,
But when he fhews his hands and heart,
With thofe dear prints of dying smart,
He fets my foul on fire:
Not the beloved John could reft
With more delight upon that breast,
Nor Thomas pry into thofe wounds with more intense
Kindly he opens me his ear,
And bids me pour my forrow there,
And tell him all my pains :
Thus while I eafe my burden'd heart,
In every woe he bears a part,
arms embrace me, and his hand my drooping head
Fly from my thoughts, all human things,
And fporting fwains, and fighting kings,
And tales of wanton love:
My foul difdains that little fnare
The tangles of Amira's hair;
Thine arms, my God, are fweeter bands, nor can my heart
GRACE fhining, and NATURE fainting.
TLL me, faireft of thy kind,
Tell me Shepherd, all divine,
Thus overcome with love.
Say, thou dear Sovereign of my breast,
Ne'er had I known his deareft name,
Ne'er had I felt this inward flame,
Had not his heart-strings first began the tender founde Nor can I bear the thought, that He
Should leave the sky,
Should bleed and die,
Should love a wretch fo vile as me
Without returns of paffion for his dying wound.
His eyes are glory mix'd with grace;
That with a frown he kills;
And feel his warmer fmiles.
Where fhall I reft this drooping head?
I love, I love the fun, and yet I want the shade.
My finking spirits feebly strive
T'endure the extafy;
Beneath these rays I cannot live,
And yet without them die.
None knows the pleasure and the pain
But fuch as feel a Saviour's love, and love the God again.
Oh, why should beauty heavenly bright
And torture with the fweet excess of light?
Oh, why is love fo ftrong, and nature's felf fo weak?
Turn, turn away thine eyes,
Afcend the azure hills, and shine
Amongst the happy tenants of the skies,
They can fuftain a vision fo divine.
O turn thy lovely glories from me,
The joys are too intenfe, the glories overcome me.
Dear Lord, forgive my rash complaint,
And love me ftill
Against my froward will;
Unvail thy beauties, though I faint.
My heart fhall all be love, my Jefus all delight.
LOVE to CHRIST prefent or absent.
Fall the joys we mortals know,
Sweet are my thoughts, and foft my cares,
In all my hopes, and all my fears,