Rebellion is my theme all day, I only wish 'twould come (As who knows but perhaps it may) A little nearer home. Yon roaring boys who rave and figh…

Ah, how the Human Mind wearies he… With her own wand’rings, and, invo… Impenetrable, speculates amiss! Measuring, in her folly, things di… By human, laws inscrib’d on adaman…

O God, whose favorable eye, The sin-sick soul revives, Holy and heavenly is the joy Thy shining presence gives. Not such as hypocrites suppose,

Oh that those lips had language!… With me but roughly since I heard… Those lips are thine’€”thy own swe… The same that oft in childhood sol… Voice only fails, else, how distin…

And dwells there in a female heart… By bounteous heaven design’d The choicest raptures to impact, To feel the most refined; Dwells there a wish in such a brea…

Austin, accept a grateful verse fr… The poet’s treasure, no inglorious… Loved by the Muses, thy ingenuous… Pleasing requital in my verse may… Verse oft has dashed the scythe of…

An Oyster, cast upon the shore, Was heard, though never heard befo… Complaining in a speech well worde… And worthy thus to be recorded:— Ah, hapless wretch! condemn’d to d…

‘Write to Sardis,’ saith the Lord… ‘And write what He declares, He whose Spirit, and whose word, Upholds the seven stars: All thy works and ways I search,

My God, till I received Thy stro… How like a beast was I! So unaccustom’d to the yoke, So backward to comply. With grief my just reproach I hea…

Perfida, crudelis, victa et lympha… Non armis, laurum Gallia fraude p… Venalem pretio plebem conducit, et… Undique privatas patriciasque domo… Nequicquam conata su’, fœdissima s…

These are not dew-drops, these are… And tears by Sally shed For absent Robin, who she fears With too much cause, is dead. One morn he came not to her hand

Sin has undone our wretched race; But Jesus has restored, And brought the sinner face to fac… With his forgiving Lord. This we repeat from year to year

Heal us, Emmanuel! here we are, Waiting to feel Thy touch: Deep-wounded souls to Thee repair And, Saviour, we are such. Our faith is feeble, we confess,

Thus heav’nward all things tend.… Perfect, and all must be at length… So God has greatly purpos’d; who… In his dishonour’d works himself e… Dishonour, and be wrong’d without…

The Saviour hides His face; My spirit thirsts to prove Renew’d supplies of pardoning grac… And never-fading love. The favor’d souls who know