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BOOK III. 3 No more I ask or hope to find Delight or happiness below ; Sorrow may well possess the mind That feeds where thorns and thistles grow.

4 The joy that fades is not for me, I seek immortal joys above ; There glory without end shall be The bright reward of faith and love.

5 Cleave to the world, ye sordid worms, Contented lick your native dust ; But God shall fight with all his storms, Against the idol of your trust.

1 To keep the lamp alive, With oil we fill the bowl; Tis water makes the willow thrive, And grace that feeds the soul.

2 The Lord s unsparing hand Supplies the living stream ; It is not at our own command, But still derived from him.

3 Beware of Peter s word, Nor confidently say, &quot; I never will deny thee, Lord, But grant I never may,

4 Man s wisdom is to seek His strength in God alone ; And even an angel would be weak Who trusted in his own.

5 Retreat beneath his wings, And in his grace confide ; This more exalts the King of kings Than all your works beside.

6 In Jesus is our store, Grace issues from his throne ; Whoever says, &quot; I want no more, &quot; Confesses he has none.