Page:The poetical works of William Cowper (IA poeticalworksof00cowp).pdf/125

 No fears he feels, he sees no foes,
 * No conflict yet his faith employs,

Nor has he learnt to whom he owes
 * The strength and peace his soul enjoys.

But sin soon darts its cruel sting,
 * And comforts sinking day by day,

What seemed his own, a self-fed spring,
 * Proves but a brook that glides away.

When Gideon armed his numerous host,
 * The Lord soon made his numbers less;

And said, "Lest Israel vainly boast,
 * 'My arm procured me this success.

Thus will he bring our spirits down,
 * And draw our ebbing comforts low,

That saved by grace, but not our own,
 * We may not claim the praise we owe.

, whose favourable eye
 * The sin-sick soul revives,

Holy and heavenly is the joy
 * Thy shining presence gives.

Not such as hypocrites suppose,
 * Who with a graceless heart

Taste not of thee, but drink a dose
 * Prepared by Satan's art.

Intoxicating joys are theirs,
 * Who while they boast their light,

And seem to soar above the stats,
 * Are plunging into night.

Lulled in a soft and fatal sleep,
 * They sin and yet rejoice;

Were they indeed the Saviour's sheep,
 * Would they not hear his voice?

Be mine the comforts that reclaim
 * The soul from Satan's power;

That make me blush for what I am,
 * And hate my sin the more.

'Tis joy enough, my All in All,
 * At thy dear feet to lie;

Thou wilt not let me lower fall,
 * And none can higher fly.

Lord receives his highest praise
 * From humble minds and hearts sincere;

While all the loud professor says
 * Offends the righteous Judge's ear.

To walk as children of the day,
 * To mark the precepts' holy light,

To wage the warfare, watch, and pray,
 * Show who are pleasing in his sight.

Not words alone it cost the Lord
 * To purchase pardon for his own;

Nor will a soul by grace restored
 * Return the Saviour words alone.

With golden bells, the priestly vest,
 * And rich pomegranates bordered round,

The need of holiness expressed,
 * And called for fruit as well as sound.

Easy indeed it were to reach
 * A mansion in the courts above,

If swelling words and fluent speech
 * Might serve instead of faith and love.

But none shall gain the blissful place,
 * Or God's unclouded glory see,

Who talks of free and sovereign grace,
 * Unless that grace has made him free!

many, Lord, abuse thy grace
 * In this licentious day,

And while they boast they see thy face
 * They turn their own away.

Thy book displays a gracious light
 * That can the blind restore;

But these are dazzled by the sight,
 * And blinded still the more.

The pardon such presume upon,
 * They do not beg, but steal;

And when they plead it at thy throne,
 * Oh! where's the Spirit's seal?