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There, if in jealousy and strong disdain
We to the sinner's God of sin complain,

Untimely seeking here the peace of heaven“ It is enough, O Lord ! now let me die “ Even as my fathers did : for what am I “ That I should stand, where they have vainly

66 striven ?”

Perhaps our God may of our conscience ask, “ What doest thou here, frail wanderer from thy task ?

“Where hast thou left those few sheep in the wild a?” Then should we plead our heart's consuming pain, At sight of ruin'd altars, prophets slain,

And God's own ark with blood of souls defil'd ;

He on the rock may bid us stand, and see
The outskirts of his march of mystery,

His endless warfare with man's wilful heart;
First, His great Power He to the sinner shews,
Lo! at His angry blast the rocks unclose,

And to their base the trembling mountains part :

Yet the Lord is not here: 'tis not by Power
He will be known-but darker tempests lower ;

a 1 Sam. xvii. 28.

Still, sullen heavings vex the labouring ground: Perhaps His Presence thro' all depth and height, Best of all gems, that deck his crown of light,

The haughty eye may dazzle and confound.

God is not in the earthquake; but behold
From Sinai's caves are bursting, as of old,

The flames of His consuming jealous ire.
Woe to the sinner, should stern Justice prove
His chosen attribute ;-but He in love

Hastes to proclaim, “ God is not in the fire.”

The storm is o’er-and hark ! a still small voice
Steals on the ear, to say, Jehovah's choice

Is ever with the soft, meek, tender soul :
By soft, meek, tender ways He loves to draw
The sinner, startled by his ways of awe :

Here is our Lord, and not where thunders roll.

Back then, complainer ; loath thy life no more,
Nor deem thyself upon a desert shore,

Because the rocks the nearer prospect close.
Yet in fallen Israel are there hearts and eyes
That day by day in prayer like thine arise :

Thou know'st them not, but their Creator knows.

P

b

Go, to the world return, nor fear to cast
Thy bread upon the waters, sure at last

In joy to find it after many days.
The work be thine, the fruit thy children's part:
Choose to believe, not see: sight tempts the heart

From sober walking in true Gospel ways.

TENTH SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY.

And when he was come near, he beheld the city, and wept over it. St. Luke xix. 41.

WHY doth my Saviour weep

At sight of Sion's bowers ?
Shows it not fair from yonder steep,
Her
gorgeous

crown of towers ?
Mark well his holy pains :

'Tis not in pride or scorn,
That Israel's King with sorrow stains

His own triumphal morn.

b Eccles, xi. 1.

It is not that his soul

Is wandering sadly on, In thought how soon at death's dark goal

Their course will all be run,
Who now are shouting round

Hosanna to their chief:
No thought like this in Him is found,

This were a Conqueror's grief.

Or doth he feel the Cross

Already in his heart, The pain, the shame, the scorn, the loss ?

Feel even his God depart ? No: though he knew full well

The grief that then shall beThe grief that angels cannot tell

Our God in agony.

It is not thus he mourns ;

Such might be Martyr's tears, When his last lingering look he turns

On human hopes and fears;

c Compare Herod. vii. 46.

But hero ne'er or saint

The secret load might know, With which His spirit waxeth faint ;

His is a Saviour's woe.

6 If thou hadst known, even thou,

“ At least in this thy day, “ The message of thy peace ! but now

“ 'Tis pass'd for aye away : “ Now foes shall trench thee round,

“ And lay thee even with earth, “ And dash thy children to the ground,

Thy glory and thy mirth.”

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And doth the Saviour weep

Over his people's sin, Because we will not let him keep

The souls He died to win? Ye hearts, that love the Lord,

If at this sight ye burn, See that in thought, in deed, in word,

Ye hate what made Him mourn.

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