I speak to them of sadness,

And comforts at a stand; They bid me look for gladness, And better days at hand.

Far from all habitation,
I heard a happy sound;
Big with the consolation
That I have often found;

I said, 66

my lot is sorrow,

My grief has no alloy;"

The rocks replied—“ to-morrow,

To-morrow brings thee joy."

These sweet and secret tidings,
What bliss it is to hear!
For, spite of all my chidings,
My weakness and my fear,

No sooner I receive them,
Than I forget my pain,

And happy to believe them,
I love as much again.

I fly to scenes romantic,

Where never men resort; For in an age so frantic, Impiety is sport.

For riot and confusion,

They barter things above; Condemning, as delusion, The joy of perfect_Love.

In this sequester'd corner None hears what I express} Deliver'd from the scorner, What peace do I possess ! Beneath the boughs reclining, Or roving o'er the Wild,

I live, as undesigning,

And harmless as a child,

No troubles here surprize me,

I innocently play,

While providence supplies me, And guards me all the day;

My dear and kind Defender

Preserves me safely here,

From men of pomp and splendour,

Who fill a child with fear.

ASPIRATIONS OF THE SOUL

AFTER GOD.

Vol. 2. Cantique 95.

My Spouse! in whose presence I live,
Sole object of all my desires.

Who know'st what a flame I conceive,
And canst easily double its fires ;
How pleasant is all that I meet!
From fear of adversity free,

I find even sorrow made sweet;
Because 'tis assign'd me by Thee.

Transported I see thee display
Thy riches and glory divine;

I have only my life to repay,
Take what I would gladly resign.

Thy will is the treasure I seek,

For thou art as faithful as strong; There let me, obedient and meek, Repose myself all the day long.

My spirit and faculties fail;

Oh finish what love has begun! Destroy what is sinful and frail,

And dwell in the soul thou hast won!

Dear theme of my wonder and praise,
I cry, who is worthy as Thou!
I can only be silent and gaze;
'Tis all that is left to me now,

Oh glory, in which I am lost,

Too deep for the plummet of thought! On an ocean of deity toss'd,

I am swallow'd, I sink into nought. Yet lost and absorb'd as I seem,

I chaunt to the praise of my King; And though overwhelm'd by the theme, Am happy whenever I sing.