BAXTER'S POEMS. Which first thy "vorks and image signify ; And thence to thee men"'s rising minds apply. As far as faith comes short of perfect sight, And this dark prison of the glorious light ; So far this distant mediate love's below The heavenly love, which mortals cannot know. ·what will it be to love thee face to face, When thou appear'st so lovely in this glass ? Thy goodness is not to that world confined . To worthless, sinful mortals thou art kind : Thy mercies to the smallest are not small : 7 To some more wonderful, but great to all. Thy matchless power cloth itself express, Upon the smallest worm, or pile of grass. The methods of thy wisdom are profouild : All must admire the depths which none can sound. When man from holy love, turn'd to·a lie, Thy image lost, became thine enemy; 0 what a seal did love and wisdom find To re-imprint thine image on man's mind! Thou sent'st the signet from thine own right hand. Made man for them that had themselves unman'd. Th' eternal Son, who in thy bosom dwelt; Essential burning love, mei1's hearts to melt : Thy lively image : he that knew thy mind : Fit to illuminate and heal the blind. With love's great office thou didst him adorn: Redeemer of the helpless and forlorn : On love's chief work and message he was sent : Our flesh he took, our pain he underwent: Thy pardoning, saving love to man did preach : The Reconciler-stood up in t~e breach :
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