(Isaiah, XII.1) I will praise Thee every day Now Thine anger’s turn’d away; Comfortable thoughts arise From the bleeding sacrifice.

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…

Go—thou art all unfit to share The pleasures of this place With such as its old tenants are, Creatures of gentler race. The squirrel here his hoard provid…

As yet a stranger to the gentle fi… That Amathusia’s smiling Queen in… Not seldom I derided Cupid’s dart… And scorn’d his claim to rule all… Go, child, I said, transfix the t…

What is there in the vale of life Half so delighted as a wife, When friendship, love, and peace c… To stamp the marriage bond divine? The stream of pure and genuine lov…

If Gideon’s fleece, which drenche… White moisture none refreshed the… Might fitly represent the Church,… With heavenly gifts to heathens no… In pledge, perhaps, of favours fro…

Ah! wherefore should my weeping ma… Those gentle signs of undissembled… When from soft love proceeds the d… Ah, why forbid the willing tears t… Since for my sake each dear transl…

’Tis folly all—let me no more be t… Of Parian porticos, and roofs of… Delightful views of nature, dresse… Enchant no longer this indifferent… The Lord of all things, in his hu…

Sleep at last has fled these eyes, Nor do I regret his flight, More alert my spirits rise, And my heart is free and light. Nature silent all around,

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

Oh loved! but not enough—though de… Than self and its most loved enjoy… None duly loves thee, but who, nob… From sensual objects, finds his al… Glory of God! thou stranger here…

His master taken from his head, Elisha saw him go; And in desponding accents said, “Ah, what must Israel do?” But he forgot the Lord who lifts

This is the feast of heavenly wine… And God invites to sup; The juices of the living Vine Were press’d to fill the cup. Oh! bless the Saviour, ye that ea…

John Gilpin was a citizen Of credit and renown, A trainband captain eke was he Of famous London town. John Gilpin’s spouse said to her…

’Tis my happiness below Not to live without the cross, But the Saviour’s power to know, Sanctifying every loss; Trials must and will befall;