Page:The poetical works of William Cowper (IA poeticalworksof00cowp).pdf/108



for a closer walk with God,
 * A calm and heavenly frame;

A light to shine upon the road
 * That leads me to the Lamb!

Where is the blessedness I knew
 * When first I saw the Lord?

Where is the soul-refreshing view
 * Of Jesus, and his word?

What peaceful hours I once enjoyed!
 * How sweet their memory still!

But they have left an aching void,
 * The world can never fill.

Return, O holy Dove, return,
 * Sweet messenger of rest;

I hate the sins that made thee mourn,
 * And drove thee from my breast.

The dearest idol I have known,
 * Whate'er that idol be;

Help me to tear it from thy throne,
 * And worship only thee.

So shall my walk be close with God,
 * Calm and serene my frame;

So purer light shall mark the road
 * That leads me to the Lamb.

saints should never be dismayed,
 * Nor sink in hopeless fear;

For when they least expect his aid,
 * The Savior will appear.

This Abraham found, he raised the knife,
 * God saw, and said, "Forbear!

Yon ram shall yield his meaner life,
 * Behold the victim there."

Once David seemed Saul's certain prey,
 * But hark! the foe's at hand;

Saul turns his arms another way,
 * To save the invaded land.

When Jonah sunk beneath the wave
 * He thought to rise no more;

But God prepared a fish to save,
 * And bear him to the shore.

Blest proofs of power and grace divine,
 * That meet us in his word!

May every deep-felt care of mine
 * Be trusted with the Lord.

Wait for his seasonable aid,
 * And though it tarry, wait:

The promise may be long-delayed,
 * But cannot come too late.

us, Emmanuel! here we are,
 * Waiting to feel thy touch;

Deep wounded souls to thee repair,
 * And, Saviour we are such.

Our faith is feeble, we confess,
 * We faintly trust thy word;

But wilt thou pity us the less?
 * Be that far from thee, Lord!

Remember him who once applied
 * With trembling, for relief;

"Lord, I believe," with tears he cried,
 * "Oh, help my unbelief!"

She too, who touched thee in the press,
 * And healing virtue stole,

Was answered, "Daughter, go in peace,
 * Thy faith hath made thee whole."

Concealed amid the gathering throng,
 * She would have shunned thy view;

And if her faith was firm and strong,
 * Had strong misgivings too.

Like her, with hopes and fears, we come,
 * To touch thee if we may;

Oh! send us not despairing home,
 * Send none unhealed away!