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The billowy shore is booming loud,
The shortening day, the muffled sky, The wild wind whistling bleakly by, The naked fields, the leafless tree, Speak, mortal man, speak all to thee,
They talk of sin, they talk of woe,
The waves lift up their voice; the woods
They bid us stand abased and awed,
Calm on the tempest's hurrying wings
Almighty! be it mine to lie
Adoring as Thou passest by,
The fire, the earthquake, and the wind-
God I would not find But in the Voice still, small, and dim, That speaks of Christ, and peace through Him. “MY BELOVED IS MINE, AND I AM HIS.”
IMITATED FROM QUARLES.
Long did I toil, and knew no earthly rest ;
Far did I rove, and found no certain home: At last I sought them in His sheltering breast, Who opes
His arms, and bids the weary come. With Him I found a home, a rest divine ; And I since then am His, and He is mine.
Yes, He is mine! and nought of earthly things,
Not all the charms of pleasure, wealth, or power, The fame of heroes, or the pomp of kings,
Could tempt me to forego His love an hour. Go, worthless world, I cry, with all that's thine! Go! I my Saviour's am, and He is mine.
The good I have is from His stores supplied :
The ill is only what He deems the best. He for my friend, I'm rich with nought beside ;
And poor without him, though of all possessed. Changes may come--I take, or I resign, Content, while I am His, while He is mine.
Whate'er may change, in Him no change is seen,
A glorious sun, that wanes not, nor declines : Above the clouds and storms He walks serene,
And on His people's inward darkness shines. All may depart-I fret not nor repine, While I
Saviour's am, while He is mine.
He stays me falling ; lifts me up when down ;
Reclaims me wandering; guards from every foe; Plants on my worthless brow the victor's crown,
Which in return before His feet I throw, Grieved that I cannot better grace His shrine Who deigns to own me His, as He is mine.