To Jesus, the crown of my hope, My soul is in haste to be gone; O bear me, ye cherubim, up, And waft me away to His throne! My Saviour, whom absent I love,

Thy mansion is the Christian’s he… O Lord, Thy dwelling place secure… Bid the unruly throng depart, And leave the consecrated door. Devoted as it is to Thee,

Thee, whose refulgent staff and su… Minerva’s flock longtime was wont… Although thyself an herald, famous… The last of heralds, Death, has s… He calls on all alike, nor even de…

Dear architect of fine Chateaux i… Worthier to stand for ever, if the… Than any built of stone, or yet of… For back of royal elephant to bear… Oh for permission from the skies t…

To tell the Saviour all my wants, How pleasing is the task! Nor less to praise Him when He gr… Beyond what I can ask. My laboring spirit vainly seeks

‘Oh most delightful hour by man Experienced here below, The hour that terminates his span, His folly and his woe! ’Worlds should not bribe me back t…

To keep the lamp alive, With oil we fill the bowl; ’Tis water makes the willow thrive… And grace that feeds the soul. The Lord’s unsparing hand

When all within is peace, How nature seems to smile; Delights that never cease, The live-long day beguile. From morn to dewy eve,

(Revelations, III. 1-6) “Write to Sardis,” saith the Lord… “And write what He declares, He whose Spirit, and whose word, Upholds the seven stars:

What thousands never knew the road… What thousands hate it when ’tis k… None but the chosen tribes of God Will seek or choose it for their o… A thousand ways in ruin end,

God of my life, to Thee I call, Afflicted at Thy feet I fall; When the great water-floods prevai… Leave not my trembling heart to fa… Friend of the friendless and the f…

Winter has a joy for me, While the Saviour’s charms I read… Lowly, meek, from blemish free, In the snowdrop’s pensive head. Spring returns, and brings along

The shepherd touch’d his reed; swe… Essay’d, and oft essay’d to catch… And treasuring, as on her ear they… The numbers, echo’d note for note… The peevish youth, who ne’er had f…

Rich, thou hadst many lovers—poor,… So surely want extinguishes the fl… And she who call’d thee once her p… And her Adonis, now inquires thy… Where wast thou born, Socicrates,…

My Spouse! in whose presence I li… Sole object of all my desires, Who know’st what a flame I concei… And canst easily double its fires! How pleasant is all that I meet!