While, beneath thy shade extended, Find, in watching, my repose. Silence all around prevailing, And my soul partakes the calm, Now my passion, pure and holy, Shines and burns without restraint: Which the day's fatigue and folly Cause to languish, dim and faint: Charming hours of relaxation! How I dread the ascending sun! Surely, idle conversation Is an evil match'd by none. Worldly prate and babble hurt me; Neither teach me nor divert me; I have ears for none but love. I have neither art's fine polish, Simple souls and unpolluted By conversing with the great, Have a mind and taste ill suited To their dignity and state; All their talking, reading, writing, Nothing human choose beside. "Tis the secret fear of sinning Checks my tongue, or I should say, When I see the night beginning, I am glad of parting day: Love this gentle admonition Whispers soft within my breast: "Choice befits not thy condition, Acquiescence suits thee best." Henceforth, the repose and pleasure Quarrelling with thy decrees; Wayward nature finds the occasion'Tis her folly and disease. Night, with its sublime enjoyments, Neither time nor place impedes; From our wishing and desiring ON THE SAME. NIGHT! how I love thy silent shades, My spirits they compose; The bliss of heaven my soul pervades, While sleep instils her poppy dews And when I feel a God immense Familiarly impart, With every proof he can dispense My native meanness I lament, His purpose and his course he keeps; Treads all my reasonings down; Commands me out of nature's deeps, And hides me in his own. When in the dust, its proper place, Thou whom I serve, and whose I am, Whose influence from on high Refines, and still refines my flame, And makes my fetters fly. How wretched is the creature's state Who thwarts thy gracious power; Crush'd under sin's enormous weight, Increasing every hour! TRANSLATIONS FROM GUION. The night, when pass'd entire with thee, How luminous and clear! Then sleep has no delights for me, Lest thou shouldst disappear. My Saviour! occupy me still In this secure recess; Let reason slumber if she will, Let reason slumber out the night; But if thou deign to make My soul the abode of truth and light, 289 THE JOY OF THE CROSS. LONG plunged in sorrow, I resign My soul to that dear hand of thine, Without reserve or fear; That hand shall wipe my streaming eyes; Transform the falling tear. My sole possession is thy love; And, though with fervent suit I pray, And importune thee night and day, My rapid hours the course pursue And I thy sovereign will, Without a wish to escape my doom; Though still a sufferer from the womb, By thy command, where'er I stray, And, if my sufferings may augment It cost me no regret, that she, Adieu! ye vain delights of earth, The cross! Oh ravishment and bliss- Its bitterness how sweet! There every sense, and all the mind, Tastes happiness complete. Souls once enabled to disdain Self-love no grace in sorrow sees, |