50 BAXTER'S POEMS. That pain may help me to repent, And sin may be consumed by woe. Pain will be short; joys will .be long. Yet, Lord, remember man is weak! Drop in thy coruials: make me strong, Lest heart and hope, with flesh should break. I know my flesh must turn to dust, My parted soul must come to thee, . And undergo thy judgment just, And in the -endless world must be. In this there's most of fear and joy, Because there's most of sin and grace, Sin will this mortal frame destroy, But Christ will bring me to thy face. ~ Here's faith's great trial: ·pain may force~ And pride may willingness·pretend ; A stupid fool die like his horse, And Heathens make a beast-like end. .Frail sinful flesh is loath to die : Sense to the unseen world is strange : The doubting soul dreads the most High, And trembleth at so .great a change. Yet faith can see beyond the skies, Where now our Q.ead in glory is ; And above flesh and sense can rise, · Unto the world of saints in bliss. Cleansing the sour from flesh and sin, Abstracting it :from things .below ; It draws the veil, and entering in, · Love's glorious mysteries can know. Put forth thy beams and hand of grace : Open mine eyes . take up my heart ·
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