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“Oh seek not here to build a nest,
Nor sigh to leave a world unblest,
I am thy hope, thy joy, thy rest,
Thine all, ‘Return to me.'”
“I love thee still, behold thy name, Graved on my hands, in love I came, To rescue thee from guilt and shame, • Return, return to me.'”
“Rest in my deep unchanging love, Dwell near my side, nor seek to rove, So shalt thou reach thy home above, Ever to dwell with me."
For with Thee is the fountain of life; in Thy light shall we see light.” Psalm xxxvi. 9.
“For the weapons of our warfare are not carnal, but mighty through God to the pulling down of strongholds ;
“Casting down imaginations, and every high thing that exalteth itself against the knowledge of God, and bringing into captivity every thought to the obedience of Christ.” 2 Cor. x. 4, 5.
CHILD of earth, with earnest gaze,
Brooding o'er the tangled maze
Of thy wandering thoughts, which seem
Like a strange, mysterious dream;
Bring the gloomy doubts that roll
Through thy dark and troubled soul
To thy Maker, none but He
From their sway can set thee free.
Though thy hopes be faint and dim,
Boldly cast thyself on Him.
If the sovereign Lord of all,
Mark the sparrows when they fall,
Hear the ravens when they cry,
Rule their humble destiny;
Shall He leave without a guide,
Man to drift o'er life's rough tide,
Cast him helpless on the sea
Of a vast eternity?
Can a mortal give thee peace,
Bid thy fears, thy doubtings cease,
Clear the path that seems to thee
Lost in dim uncertainy?
Who but He that formed the soul
Can its noble powers control ?
Break the heavy chains that press thee,
Quell the doubts that sore distress thee?
At the fountain-head of light,
Seek to clear thy shrouded sight.
As the first faint streak of dawn
Gilds the sky in opening morn;
And the glorious sun on high
Drives the shadows from the sky:
So the beams of light divine,
On thy doubting soul shall shine ;
And its bright resplendent ray
Chase the gloomy night away.
God in Christ shall fill thy soul,
As a stream thy bliss shall roll;
And the dove of peace and rest,
Dwell within thy tranquil breast.
“He hath no form nor comeliness; and when we shall see Him, there is no beauty that we should desire Him."-Isa. liii. 2.
How oft does the conquering hero's praise,
Live in the minstrel's heroic lays,
And the brilliant sparkle of beauty's eye
Shine in the numbers of poesy.
But, alas; no comeliness is seen
In the form of the lowly Nazarene:
And the thoughtless worldling, passing by,
Sees nought to attract his careless eye.
Yet Lord, there are still a chosen few
Of Thy purchased ones, in whose raptured
More glorious far than the sun's bright glow,
The chiefest among ten thousand Thou.
Thy yearning bride, like the captive bird,
Longs for the sound of this cheering word
Arise, my fair one, and come away To the glorious land of eternal day.”