#EnglishWriters
My name—my country—what are they t… What, whether base or proud my ped… Perhaps I far surpass’d all other… Perhaps I fell below them all—wha… Suffice it, stranger! that thou se…
Jealous, and with love o’erflowing… God demands a fervent heart; Grace and bounty still bestowing, Calls us to a grateful part. Oh, then, with supreme affection
A miser traversing his house, Espied, unusual there, a mouse, And thus his uninvited guest Briskly inquisitive address’d: ‘Tell me, my dear, to what cause i…
Israel in ancient days Not only had a view Of Sinai in a blaze, But learn’d the Gospel too; The types and figures were a glass…
The new-born child of gospel grace… Like some fair tree when summer’s… Beneath Emmanuel’s shining face Lifts up his blooming branch on hi… No fears he feels, he sees no foes…
My song shall bless the Lord of a… My praise shall climb to His abod… Thee, Saviour, by that name I cal… The great Supreme, the mighty God… Without beginning or decline,
Come, peace of mind, delightful gu… Return and make thy downy nest Once more in this sad heart: Nor riches I, nor power pursue, Nor hold forbidden joys in view,
Sun! stay thy course, this moment… Suspend the o’er flowing tide of d… Divulge not such a love as mine, Ah! hide the mystery divine; Lest man, who deems my glory shame…
The Spirit breathes upon the word… And brings the truth to sight; Precepts and promises afford A sanctifying light. A glory gilds the sacred page,
No strength of nature can suffice To serve the Lord aright: And what she has she misapplies, For want of clearer light. How long beneath the law I lay
As on a hill-top rude, when closin… Imbrowns the scene, some past’ral… Waters a lovely foreign plant with… That scarcely can its tender bud d… Borne from its native genial airs…
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,
Christina, maiden of heroic mien! Star of the North! of northern st… Behold, what wrinkles I have earn… The iron cask still chafes my vet’… While following fate’s dark footst…
My lids with grief were tumid yet, And still my sullied cheek was wet With briny dews profusely shed For venerable Winton dead, When Fame, whose tales of saddest…
Lord, my soul with pleasure spring… When Jesu’s name I hear: And when God the Spirit brings The word of promise near: Beauties too, in holiness,