Page:The poetical works of William Cowper (IA poeticalworksof00cowp).pdf/123

 A kingly character he bears,
 * No change his priestly office knows;

Unfading is the crown he wears,
 * His joys can never reach a close.

Adorned with glory from on high,
 * Salvation shines upon his face;

His robe is of the ethereal dye,
 * His steps are dignity and grace.

Inferior honours he disdains,
 * Nor stoops to take applause from earth;

The King of kings himself maintains
 * The expenses of his heavenly birth.

The noblest creature seen below,
 * Ordained to fill a throne above;

God gives him all he can bestow,
 * His kingdom of eternal love!

My soul is ravished at the thought!
 * Methinks from earth I see him rise!

Angels congratulate his lot,
 * And shout him welcome to the skies!

a grovelling creature once,
 * And basely cleaved to earth;

I wanted spirit to renounce
 * The clod that gave me birth.

But God has breathed upon a worm,
 * And sent me from above

Wings such as clothe an angel's form,
 * The wings of joy and love.

With these to Pisgah's top I fly,
 * And there delighted stand,

To view beneath a shining sky
 * The spacious promised land.

The Lord of all the vast domain
 * Has promised it to me,

The length and breadth of all the plain
 * As far as faith can see.

How glorious is my privilege!
 * To thee for help I call;

I stand upon a mountain's edge,
 * Oh save me, lest I fall!

Though much exalted in the Lord,
 * My strength is not my own;

Then let me tremble at his word,
 * And none shall cast me down.

Hagar found the bottle spent,
 * And wept o'er Ishmael,

A message from the Lord was sent
 * To guide her to a well.

Should not Elijah's cake and cruse
 * Convince us at this day,

A gracious God will not refuse
 * Provisions by the way?

His saints and servants shall be fed,
 * The promise is secure;

"Bread shall be given them," as he said,
 * "Their water shall be sure."

Repasts far richer they shall prove,
 * Than all earth's dainties are;

'Tis sweet to taste a Saviour's love,
 * Though in the meanest fare.

To Jesus then your trouble bring,
 * Nor murmur at your lot;

While you are poor and He is King,
 * You shall not be forgot.

, but not as once I did,
 * The vain delights of earth to share;

Thy wounds, Emmanuel, all forbid
 * That I should seek my pleasures there.

It was the sight of thy dear cross
 * First wean’d my soul from earthly things;

And taught me to esteem as dross
 * The mirth of fools and pomp of kings.

I want that grace that springs from thee,
 * That quickens all things where it flows,

And makes a wretched thorn like me
 * Bloom as the myrtle or the rose.

Dear fountain of delight unknown!
 * No longer sink below the brim;

But over flow, and pour me down
 * A living and life-giving stream;