264 LYRIC POEMS. Jesus the God, with naked arms, Hangs on a cross of love, and dies. Pid pity ever stoop so low, Dress'd in divinity and blood? Was ever rebel courted so In groans of an expiring God ? 6, Again he lives; and spreads his hands, Hands that were nail'd to tort'ring smart ; " By these dear wounds," says he ; and stands And prays to clasp me to his heart. 7 Sure 1 must love ; or are my ears Still deaf, nor will my passion move? Then let Inc melt this heart to tears ; This heart shall yield to death or love. The heart given; array. I IF there are passions in my soul, (And passions sure they be) Now they are all at thy control, . My Jesus, all for thee. 2 If love, that pleasingpower, can rest In hearts so hard as mine, Come, gentle Saviour, to my breast, For all my lbve is thine. 3 Jesus has all my powers possest, My hopes, my fears, my joys : He, the dear Sov'reign of my breast, Shall still command my voice. 4 Some of the fairest choirs above Shall flock around my song, With joy to hear the name they love Sound from a mortal tongue. a His charms shall make my numbers flow, And hold the falling floods, While silence sits on ev'ry bough, And bends the list'ning woods. 6 I'll carve our passion on the bark, And ev'ry wounded tree 'Shall drop and bear some mystic mark That Jesus dy'd for me. 7 The swains shall wonder when they read, Inscrib'd on all the groves, That beav'n itself came down and bled To win a mortal's love. The Fairest and the Only Beloved. 1 HONOUR to that diviner Say That first allar'd my eves away Froni every mortal Fair ; All the gay things that held my sight 3 Let the gay world, w ithtreach'rousart, f Seem butthe twinkling sparksof night, Allure my eyes in vain : And languishing in doubtful light I have coavey'd away my heart, Die at the morning-star. Ne'er to return again. 4 I feel my warmest passions dead To all that earth can boast:. This soul of mine was never made For vanity and dust. 3 Now I can fix my thoughts above, Amidst their flatt'ring charms, Till the dear Lord that bath icy love Shall call me to his arms. 6 So Gabriel, at his Ring's command, From you celestial hill, Walks downward to cur worthless land, His soul points upward still. 7 He glides alongin mortal things, Without a thought of love,. Fulfils his task, and spreads his wings To reach the skies above. Meditation in a Grove. 1 SWEET muse, descend and bless the shade, And bless the evening grove; Business, and noise, and day are fled, And ,every care but love. 2 But hence, ye wanton young and fair,. Mine is apurer flame; No Phillis shall infect the air, With her unhallowed nanan: 2 Whatever speaks the Godhead great, And fit to be ador'd, Whatever inakes the creature sweet, And worthy of my passion, meet Harmonious in my Lord. A thousand graces ever rise And bloom upon his face ; A thousand arrows from his eyes Shootthro' my heart with dear surprise And guard around the place. 3 'All nature's art shall never cure. The heav'nly pains I found, And 'tis beyond all beauty's power To make another wound : Earthly beauties grow and fade; Nature healsthe wounds she made ; But charms so much divine Hohl a long empire of the heart ; What beav'n has join'd shall never part, And Jesus must be mine. 4 In vain the envious shades of night, Or flatt'ries of the day Would veil his image from my sight, Or tempt my soul away Jesus is ell my waking theme, flls lovely form meets ev'ry dream And kuocs net to depart: The passion reins Thro' all my veins, And floating round the crimson stream, Still finds liim at my heart.
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