Chase from our minds the infernal foe,
And peace, the fruit of love, bestow;
And, lest our feet should step astray,
Protect and guide us in the way.
Make us eternal truths receive,
And practise all that we believe :
Give us thyself, that we may see
The Father, and the Son, by thee.
Immortal honour, endless fame,
Attend the Almighty Father's name :
The Saviour Son be glorified,
Who for lost man's redemption died:
And equal adoration be,
Eternal Paraclete, to thee!
PARAPHRASE ON PSALM XXIII.
THE Lord my pasture shall prepare,
And feed me with a shepherd's care;
His presence shall my wants supply,
And guard me with a watchful eye :
My noon-day walks he shall attend,
And all my midnight hours defend.
When in the sultry glebe I faint,
Or on the thirsty mountain pant;
To fertile vales and dewy meads
My weary wandering steps he leads;
Where peaceful rivers, soft and slow,
Amid the verdant landscape flow.
Though in the paths of death I tread,
With gloomy horrors overspread,
My steadfast heart shall fear no ill,
For thou, O Lord, art with me still;
Thy friendly crook shall give me aid,
And guide me through the dreadful shade.
Though in a bare and rugged way,
Through devious, lonely wilds I stray
Thy bounty shall my wants beguile :
The barren wilderness shall smile,
With sudden greens and herbage crowned,
And streams shall murmur all around.
SWEET brooklet! ever gliding-
Now high the mountain riding,
The lone vale now dividing,
Whither away?
"With pilgrim course I flow,
Or in summer's scorching glow,
Or o'er moonless wastes of snow,
Nor stop, nor stay:
For still, by high behest,
To a bright abode of rest,
On my parent Ocean's breast,
I hasten away."
Many a dark morass,
Many a craggy mass,
Thy feeble force must pass,
Yet, yet delay!
"Though the marsh be dire and deep,
Though the crag be stern and steep,
On, on my course must keep;
I may not stay:
For be it east or west,
To a home of glorious rest,
On the bright sea's boundless breast,
I hasten away."
The warbling bowers beside thee,
The laughing flowers that hide thee,
With sweet accord they chide thee;
Sweet brooklet, stay!
I taste of the fragrant flowers,
I respond to the warbling bowers,
And sweetly they charm the hours
Of my onward way:
But ceaseless, still in quest
Of that everlasting rest
On my parent Ocean's breast,
I hasten away."
SAVIOUR! when in dust to thee
Low we bow the adoring knee,
When, repentant, to the skies
Scarce we lift our streaming eyes;
O! by all the pains and woe,
Suffered once for man below,
Bending from thy throne on high,
Hear our solemn litany!
By thy helpless infant years,
By thy life of wants and tears,
By thy days of sore distress
In the savage wilderness;
By the dread permitted hour
Of the insulting tempter's power,
Turn, O turn a pitying eye-
Hear our solemn litany!
By the sacred grief that wept
O'er the grave where Lazarus slept;
By the boding tears that flowed
Over Salem's loved abode;
By the anguished words that told,
Treachery lurked within thy fold;
From thy seat above the sky,
Hear our solemn litany!
By thine hour of dire despair,
By thine agony of prayer,
By the cross, the nail, the thorn;
Piercing spear, and torturing scorn!
By the gloom that veiled the skies
O'er that dreadful sacrifice,
Listen to our humble cry,
Hear our solemn litany!
By the deep expiring groan,
By the sad sepulchral stone,
By the vault whose dark abode
Held in vain the rising God;
O! from earth to heaven restored,
Mighty re-ascended Lord,
Listen, listen to the cry
Of our solemn litany!
WHEN gathering clouds around I view,
And days are dark, and friends are few;
On him I lean, who, not in vain,
Experienced every human pain.
He sees my griefs, allays my fears,
And counts and treasures up my tears.
If aught should tempt my soul to stray
From heavenly Wisdom's narrow way;
To fly the good I would pursue,
Or do the thing I would not do;
Still He, who felt temptation's power,
Shall guard me in that dangerous hour.
If wounded love my bosom swell,
Despised by those I prized too well,
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