From small beginnings, sure, but slow, This tree, without a prop, secur'd, Believers thus still thrive and grow, "Midst all the storms that round them blow; The world expects to see them fall, But Christ, their root, supports them all. Pleasing, tho" solemn, is the gloom With which the shade o'erspreads her room; In summer's overwhelming heat, Here she enjoys a cool retreat. So may her spirit shelter'd be, But as the tree conceals the sky, To our deprav'd, deceitful hearts. Thus every gift the Lord bestows, And hide the Giver from our view. This tree, though now array'd in green, So we, by Time's unsparing hand Yes, we shall quit this scene of strife, TO MISS ***** ** WHY should you wish a name like mine Within your book to stand; With those who shone, or those who shine, As worthies of our land? What will the future age have gain'd When my poor name is seen; From knowing I was entertain'd By you, at Cowslip green? Rather let me record a name That shall adorn your page; JESUS, who found me while I stray'd In Afric's dreary wild, Who for my soul a ransom paid, And made his foe a child. He taught my wild blaspheming tongue To make his grace my theme and song, A pattern now of mercy's pow'r Such as I think was ne'er before TO MY DEAR ELIZABETH. I THANK you, dear, as I am able, May grace from Him, whose precious blood Keep your profession always green So prays your affectionate and obliged J. N. January 22, 1795. TO THE REV. MR. JOHNSON, GOING TO BOTANY BAY. THE Lord, who sends thee hence, will be thine aid; In vain at thee the lion danger roars; His arm and love shall keep thee, undismay'd, On tempest-tossed seas, and savage shores. Go-bear the Saviour's name to lands unknown Tell to the southern world his wondrousgrace An energy divine thy words shall own, And draw their untaught hearts to seek his face! Many in quest of gold, or empty fame, Would compass earth, or venture near the poles; But how much nobler thy reward and aim, FINIS. |