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Then turn thee, for thy time is short,
Lest idol pleasures court
Thou know'st how hard to hurry by,
Beneath the moonlight sky
Where maidens to the Queen of Heaven
Or breath'd their vows at even
Or thee perchance a darker spell
By mountain grot or fell,
The giant altar on the rock,
h Isaiah lvii. 6. Among the smooth stones of the stream is thy portion, they, they are thy lot.
Affrights the wandering flock :-
Trust not the dangerous path again-
O lov'd and warn'd in vain !
Thy message given, thine home in sight,
Yield to the false delight
Alas, my brother ! round thy tomb
We read the Pastor's doom
The grey-hair'd saint may fail' at last,
NINTH SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY.
And after the earthquake a fire; but the Lord was not in the fire: and after the fire, a still small voice. I Kings xix. 12.
IN troublous days of anguish and rebuke,
And their eyes fail for waiting on their Lord :
Of pure heart-worship, Baal is ador'd :
'Tis well, true hearts should for a time retire
Towards promis'd regions of serener grace ;
God's chariot-wheels have left distinctest trace:
There, if in jealousy and strong disdain
Untimely seeking here the peace of heaven“ It is enough, O Lord ! now let me die “ Even as my fathers did : for what am I 6 That I should stand, where they have vainly
66 striven ?”—
Perhaps our God may of our conscience ask, - What doest thou here, frail wanderer from thy task ?
“ Where hast thou left those few sheep in the wild a?” Then should we plead our heart's consuming pain, At sight of ruin'd altars, prophets slain,
And God's own ark with blood of souls defil'd;
He on the rock may bid us stand, and see
His endless warfare with man's wilful heart;
And to their base the trembling mountains part:
Yet the Lord is not here: 'tis not by Power
a 1 Sam. xvii. 28.
Still, sullen heavings vex the labouring ground: Perhaps His Presence thro' all depth and height, Best of all gems, that deck his crown of light,
The haughty eye may dazzle and confound.
God is not in the earthquake; but behold
The flames of His consuming jealous ire.
Hastes to proclaim, “ God is not in the fire.”
The storm is o'er—and hark ! a still small voice
Here is our Lord, and not where thunders roll.
Back then, complainer ; loath thy life no more,
Because the rocks the nearer prospect close.
Thou know'st them not, but their Creator knows.