Worldly prate and babble hurt me; Unintelligible prove;

Neither teach me nor divert me;

I have ears for none but Love.
Me they rude esteem, and foolish,
Hearing my absurd replies;
I have neither art's fine polish

Nor the knowledge of the wise.

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,
Are but talents misapplied;
Infants' prattle I delight in,

Nothing human chuse 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 :

NIGHT! how I love thy silent shades,
My spirits they compose;
The bliss of heaven my soul pervades,
In spite of all my woes.

While sleep instils her poppy dews
In every slumbering eye,
I watch, to meditate and muse,
In blest tranquillity.

And when I feel a God immense
Familiarly impart,

With every proof He can dispense,
His favour to my heart;

My native meanness I lament,
Though most divinely filled
With all the ineffable content
That Deity can yield.

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,
Our pride of heart we lay,

'Tis then a deluge of His grace Bears all our sins away.

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;
Crushed under sin's enormous weight,
Increasing every hour!

The night, when passed 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,
My joy shall not be less :

Let reason slumber out the night;
But if Thou deign to make
My soul the abode of truth and light,
Ah, keep my heart awake!

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,
Or into smiles of glad surprise
Transform the falling tear.

My sole possession is Thy love;
In earth beneath, or heaven above,
I have no other store;

And though with fervent suit I pray,
And importune Thee night and day,
I ask Thee nothing more.

My rapid hours pursue the course
Prescribed them by love's sweetest force;
And I Thy sovereign will,
Without a wish to escape my doom;
Though still a sufferer from the womb,
And doomed to suffer still.

By Thy command, where'er I stray,
Sorrow attends me all my way,
A never-failing friend;

And if my sufferings may augment
Thy praise, behold me well content,-
Let sorrow still attend!

It costs me no regret, that she,
Who followed Christ, should follow me;
And though, where'er she goes,
Thorns spring spontaneous at her feet,
I love her, and extract a sweet

From all my bitter woes.

Adieu, ye vain delights of earth!
Insipid sports, and childish mirth,
I taste no sweets in you;
Unknown delights are in the Cross,
All joy beside to me is dross;

And Jesus thought so too.

The Cross! oh, ravishment and bliss,—
How grateful even its anguish is,

Its bitterness how sweet!
There every sense, and all the mind,
In all her faculties refined,

Tastes happiness complete.

Souls once enabled to disdain
Base sublunary joys, maintain
Their dignity secure ;

The fever of desire is passed,
And love has all its genuine taste,
Is delicate and pure.

Self-love no grace in sorrow sees,
Consults her own peculiar ease;

'Tis all the bliss she knows :
But nobler aims true Love employ;
In self-denial is her joy,

In suffering her repose.

Sorrow and Love go side by side:
Nor height nor depth can e'er divide

Their heaven-appointed bands;
Those dear associates still are one,
Nor till the race of life is run
Disjoin their wedded hands.

Jesus, avenger of our fall,
Thou faithful lover, above all

The Cross hast ever borne !
Oh tell me,-life is in Thy voice,
How much afflictions were Thy choice,
And sloth and ease Thy scorn!

Thy choice and mine shall be the same,
Inspirer of that holy flame

Which must for ever blaze!
To take the Cross and follow Thee,
Where love and duty lead, shall be
My portion and my praise.

SWEET tenants of this grove, Who sing, without design,

A song of artless love,

In unison with mine:

These echoing shades return
Full many a note of ours,
That wise ones cannot learn

With all their boasted powers.

Before the power of Love Divine
Creation fades away;

Till only God is seen to shine
In all that we survey.

In gulfs of awful night we find

The God of our desires;

'Tis there He stamps the yielding mind, And doubles all its fires.

Flames of encircling love invest,

And pierce it sweetly through; 'Tis filled with sacred joy, yet pressed With sacred sorrow too.

Ah Love! my heart is in the right—
Amidst a thousand woes,
To Thee its ever new delight
And all its peace it owes.

Fresh causes of distress occur
Where'er I look or move;

The comforts I to all prefer

Are solitude and love.

Nor exile I, nor prison fear;
Love makes my courage great ;
I find a Saviour everywhere,
His grace in every state.

Nor castle walls, nor dungeons deep,
Exclude His quickening beams;
There I can sit, and sing, and weep,
And dwell on heavenly themes.

There sorrow, for His sake, is found
A joy beyond compare ;
There no presumptuous thoughts abound,
No pride can enter there.

A Saviour doubles all my joys,
And sweetens all my pains,
His strength in my defence employs,
Consoles me and sustains.