Baxter - HP PR3316 .B36 1821

BAXTER'S POEMS. Where is that faith, and hope, and love, By which thou markest all thy saints? Thy joys would all my grief remove, And raise this heart that daily faints. Am I the Jonas? dost thou mean 'fo cast me out into the deep ? It shall not drown but make me clean: Until thou raise me, there I '11 sleep. 0 death! where is thy poisonous sting? 0 grave ! where is thy victory ? ' ,.fhy dust shall shortly rise, and sing God's praise above the starry sky. My God, my love, my hope, my life! Shall I be loath to see thy face? As if this world of sin and strife, Were for my soul a better place ? 0 give my soul some sweet foretaste Of that which I shall shortly see ! Let faith and love cry to the last, Come l~ord, I trust myself to thee ... 0 let not unbelieving Thomas' words 6g Be now my answer: but my dearest Lord's. Amen . * John ii. 14 or 16.