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THE SINNER CONVINCED. Offer him warmth, security, and rest ;
Think with what pleasure, safe and at his COW PER.
ease, See where it smokes along the sounding He hears the tempest howling in the trees; plain,
What glowing thanks his lips and heart Blown all aslant, a driving, dashing rain, employ, Peal upon peal redoubling all around,
While danger past is turned to present joy. Shakes it again and faster to the ground; So fares it with the sinner, when he feels Now flashing wide, now glancing as in play | A growing dread of vengeance at his beels; Swift beyond thought the lightnings dart His conscience, like a glassy lake before, away.
Lashed into foaming waves begins to roar; Ere yet it came the traveller urged his steed, The law grown clamorous, though silent And hurried, but with unsuccessful speed; long, Now drenched throughout, and hopeless of Arraigns bim-charges bim with every
wrongHe drops the rein, and leaves him to his
Asserts the rights of his offended Lord, pace.
And death or restitution is the word: Suppose, unlooked for in a scene so rude, The last impossible, he fears the first, Long hid by interposing hill or wood,
And having well deserved, expects the worst; Some mansion, neat, and elegantly dressed, Then welcome refuge, and a peaceful home; By some kind, hospitable heart possessed, Oh for a shelter from the wrath to come!
Crash me ye rocks'; ye falling mountains, 'Tis heav'n, all heav'n descending on the hide,
wings Or bury me in ocean's angry tide
Of the glad legions of the King of kings; The scrutiny of those all-seeing eyes 'Tis more'tis God diffused through every I dare not-And you need not, God replies, part, The remedy you want I freely give; 'Tis God himself triumphant in his heart. The book shall teach you read, believe, Oh! welcome now the sun's once hated light, and live!
His noon-day beams were never half so Tis done--the raging storm is heard no more,
ht. Mercy receives him on ber peaceful shore: Not kindred minds alone are call'd to emAnd justice, guardian of the dread command, ploy Drops the red vengeance from bis willing Their hours, their days, in listening to his hand.
joy; A soul redeemed demands a life of praise ;
Unconscious nature, all that he surveys, Hence the complexion of his fature days, Rocks, groves, and streams, must join him Hence a demeanour holy and unspeck’d,
in his praise. And the world's hatred, as its sure effect.
THE SINNER PARDONED.
And first came Faith, the Marshal of the
field; Now let the bright reverse be known
Weak was his mother when she gave him abroad;
day; Say man's a worm, and power belongs to
And he at first a sick and weakly child, God.
As e'er with tears welcom'd the sunny ray;
Yet when more years afford more growth As when a felon whom his country's laws
and might, Have justly doomed for some atrocious cause,
A champion stout he was, and puissant Expects in darkness and heart-chilling fears,
knight, The shameful close of all his mispent years;
As ever came in field, or shone in armour If chance on heavy pinions slowly burne,
When newly whelpt, a weak and tender The warder at the door his key applies,
thing, Shoots back tbe bolt, and all his courage Despis’d by ev'ry beast; but wasen great, dies :
When fuller times, full strength and If then, just then, all thoughts of mercy lost,
courage bring; When hope, long lingering, at last yields the
The beasts all crouching low, their king ghost,
adore, The sound of pardon pierce his startled ear, And dare not see what they contemn'd He drops at once his fetters and his fear ;
before; A transport glows in all he looks and speaks, The trembling forest quakes at his affrightAnd the first tbankful tears bedew his cheeks.
ing roar.) Joy, far superior joy, that much outweighs The comfort of a few poor added days, Mountains he filings in seas with mighty Invades, possesses, and o'erwhelms the soul Of him, whom hope has with a touch made Stops and turns back the sun's impetuous whole;
Nature breaks nature's laws at his command; Receives with joy the promises he makes, No force of hell or heav'n withstands his Nor questions of his purpose or his powert; force ;
He does not doubting ask, Can this be so ?' Events to come yet many ages hence, The Lord has said it, and there needs no He present makes, by wondrous pre
more, science ; Proving the senses blind, by being blind to However deep be the mysterious word, sense.
However dark, he disbelieves it not ;
Where Reason would examine, Faith obeys, His sky-like arms, dy'd all in blue and white, And It is written,' answers every doubt.
And set with golden stars that famed wide; His shield invisible to mortal sight,
In vain, with rude and overwhelming force, Yet he opon it easily descry'd
Conscience repeats her tale of misery ; The living semblance of his dying Lord, And powers infernal, wakeful to destroy, Whose bleeding side with wicked steel Urge the worn spirit to despair and die.
was gor'd; Which to his fainting spirits new courage
As evening's pale and solitary star would afford.
But brightens while the darkness gathers
round; Strange was the force of that enchanted So Faith, unmoved amidst surrounding shield,
storms, Whicb highest pow'rs to it from heav'n
Is fairest seen in darkness most profound. impart; For who could bear it well, and rightly wield; It sav'd from sword, and spear,
and poison'd dart: Well might he slip, but yet not wholly
No final lust his courage might appal;
TEATE. Growing more sound by wounds, and rising by his fall.
TRUB Hope is Jacob's staffe indeed,
True Hope is no Egyptian reed, So some have feign'd that Tellas' giant son, That springs from mire, or else can feed Drew many new-born lives from his dead On rt or mud: mother ;
By Hope just men are sanctified, Another rose as soon as one was done, In the same ocean safe at anchor ride, And twenty lost, yet still remain’d another; Fearlesse of wrack by wind or tide, For when he fell, and kiss'd the barren By ebb or flood.
heath, His parent straight inspir'd successive Hope's the top window of that ark, breath;
Where all God's Noahs do embark; And though herself was dead, yet ransom'd Hope lets in sky-light, else bow dark him from death,
Were such a season!
Hope must have reason.
Faith, like a simple, unsuspecting child,
Serenely resting on its mother's arm, Reposing every care upon his God,
Sleeps on his bosom and expects no harm.
Hope bath a harvest in the spring,
Yet nips no bloom: