What wretches ! to play at the fiery throne,

With the buckler of God at their heart! Where beasts that approach must be slain with a stone,

Or must die by the thrust of a dart!

The glorify'd Judge shall assemble the lost,

And their towering Babel shall crack; And builders and buildings shall find, to their cost,

Their foundation disclos'd to the neck.

The archangel's trump, and the sentence, shall blast;

Yea, the fabric of nature be crash'd ; And mortals deluded convinc'd at the last,

When in infinite ruins abash'd.

PART II.

How sweet are the joys of a Spiritual Birth,

How delightful the comforts within, When weeping and mourning are silenc'd by mirth,

And the conscience disburden'd of sin !

All doubtings and fearings are made to subside,

And submit to the triumphs of Love;
The fetters are broke, and the bondage unty'd,

And exchang’d for the wings of a dove,

Stern Justice refuses to carry the suit,

When Jesus, the Ransom, appears:
The debtor's amaz'd when the creditor's mute;

The insolvent is drowned in tears.

All torments and terrors take flight, and are gone,

And divine consolations succeed; Believers and Jesus how happy alone,

When Elias and Moses are fled !

Regardless he seem’d when he wrote on the ground;

But, as soon as he lift up his head,
The Law, Sin, or Satan, could neither be found,

For all mine accusers were fled.

· Hath no man condemn’d thee,' he cry'd with condole,

Though guilty by every plea?'
Nor will I condemn thee, thou penitent soul,

Nor permit them to pluck thee from me.

• Peace be unto thee, and an end to the strife,

For I am the First and the Last:
I pardon thee freely, and raise thee to life;

Nor upbraid thee for aught that is past.'

Thus wounded with sorrow, and melted with love,

A victim to Mercy I fell;
Amaz'd he should come from the regions above,

With the keys both of death and of hell.

My clouds of transgressions were chas'd from the skies

By the radiant beams of the Sun;
By faith in the Saviour from death we arise,

Then is life everlasting begun!

The heaven of heavens desist from their lour,

The tempest is hush'd to a calm ;
The kingdom of heaven is taken by pow'r,

And the victor is crowned with palm.

He's led to the Rock by omnipotent hand;

In the secret cliff he can sing:
The voice of the turtle is heard in the land,

And his winter exchang'd for a spring.

:

My God, in compassion, did sweetly appear,

And dictated my song as I sung:
I thought all the angels stood silent to hear,

All nature look'd gay, and afforded delight,

And proclaim'd divine wisdom abroad;
The heavens themselves would admit of my flight,

When I Aed to commune with my God!

I yielded my soul as a captive to grace,

When the banner of love was unfurld; My spirit dissolv'd in the rays of his face,

And I dy'd to the charms of the world.

My jealousy fled, and my mind was compos’d,

When my soul to my Saviour was wed: I charged my eyes to refuse to be clos'd,

Lest my husband should slip from my bed.

I us'd my entreaties his bowels to move,

For I trembled for fear he'd depart;
And gently woo'd him, and call'd him my love,

And I crown'd him the King of my heart.

Through each silent watch still my bed he would keep,

With his love as profuse as her source; My mind he employ'd when I sunk in a sleep,

And he charm’d me with mental discourse..

I thought of his birth, and amaz’d at the scheme,

While Faith was triumphant with palms; And wonder'd my God and my Maker supreme,

As an infant, should live upon alms !

His wearisome journies by faith I could trace,

And his footsteps my tears would bedew; The truths he then taught he would freely rehearse,

And I set to my seal-God is true.

The supper I view'd when the table was spread,

And I thought, as a guest, I was nigh; And, when he foretold that he must be betray'd,

I answered, 'O Lord, is it I?'

But, when I beheld him as rack'd on the cross,

And reflected my sin gave the wound; ;
I found for some minutes my senses were lost,

Yea, I fainted, and dropp'd to the ground.

I wonder'd to see such a victim appear,

And was griev'd that his foes could deride; But, oh! when they pierced his heart with a spear,

I could fancy a pain in my side.

But when on his throne I perceiv’d him supreme,

With his garments all cover'd with gore; I said, "He hath finish'd the tragical scene,

And my Saviour can suffer no more !

The nature of angels was never so high,

As with crown and with sceptre to reign; The seraphic host, who inhabit the sky,

Must adore and attend as his train.

The wondering millions all cast off their crowns,

And acknowledge their glory from his; While rays of divinity blaze from his wounds,

And illumine the regions with bliss.

The brilliant, seraphic, and ransomed race,

Appear in majestic array ;
While Jesus emits, from the rays of his face,

The perpetual springing of day.