Faith builds upon, Thus saith the Lord; Sense views his work, and not his word.
God's word without, is faith's resort,
His work within, doth sense support.
By faith we trust him without pawns,
By sense we handle with our hands.
By faith the word of truth's receiv'd,
By sense we know we have believ'd.
Faith's certain by fiducial acts,
Sense by its evidential facts.
Faith credits the divine report,
Sense to his breathings makes resort:
That on his word of grace will hing,
This on his Spirit witnessing.
By faith I take the Lord for mine;
By sense I feel his love divine:
By that, I touch his garment's hem;
By this, find virtue thence to stream.
By faith I have mine all on band,
By sense I have some stock in hand:
By that some vision is begun,
By this I some fruition win.
My faith can fend ev'n in exile;
Sense cannot live without a smile.
By faith I to his promise fly,
By sense I in his bosom lie.
Faith builds upon the truth of God,
That lies within the promise broad;
But sense upon the truth of grace
His hand within my heart did place.
Thus Christ's the object faith will eye,
And faith 's the object sense may see;
Faith keeps the truth of God in view,
While sense the truth of faith may shew.
Hence faith's assurance firm can stand,
When sense's in the deep may strand;
And faith's persuasion full prevail,
When comfortable sense may fail.
I am assur'd when faith 's in act,
Though sense and feeling both I lack:
And thus mysterious is my lot,
I'm oft assur'd when I am not;
Oft pierc'd with racking doubts and fears;
Yet faith these brambles never bears;
But unbelief that cuts my breath,
And stops the language of my faith.
Clamors of unbelieving fears,
So frequently disturb mine ears,
I cannot hear what faith would say,
Till once the noisy clamors stay.
And then will fresh experience find,
When faith gets leave to speak its mind,
The native language whereof is,
My Lord is mine, and I am his.
Sad doubtings compass me about,
Yet faith itself could never doubt;
For as the sacred volume saith,
Much doubting argues little faith.
The doubts and fears that work my grief,
Flow not from faith, but unbelief;
For faith, whene'er it acteth, cures
The plague of doubts, and me assures.
But when mine eye of faith's asleep,
I dream of drowning in the deep :
But, as befalls the sleeping eye,
Though sight remain, it cannot see;
The seeing faculty abides,
Though sleep from active seeing hides:
So faith's assuring pow'rs endure
Ev'n when it ceases to assure.
There's still persuasion in my faith,
Ev'n when I'm fill'd with fears of wrath:
The trusting habit still remains,
Though slumbers hold the act in chains.
Th' assuring faculty it keeps,
Ev'n when its eye in darkness sleeps,
Wrapt up in doubts; but when it wakes,
It rouses up assuring acts.
THE HARMONY AND DISCORD BETWEEN FAITH AND SENSE; HOW
THEY HELP, AND HOW THEY MAR EACH OTHER.
THOUGH gallant faith can keep the field
When cow'rdly sense will fly or yield,
Yet while I view their usual path,
Sense often stands and falls with faith.
Faith ushers in sweet peace and joy,
Which further heartens faith's employ:
Faith like the head, and sense the heart,
Do mutual vigor fresh impart.
When lively faith and feeling sweet,
Live dearest darlings, kindly meet,
They straight each other help and hug
In loving friendship close and snug.
Faith gives to sense both life and breath,
And sense gives joy and strength to faith;
"O now, says faith, how fond do I
In sense's glowing bosom lie!"
Their mutual kindness then is such,
That oft they, doting, too, too much,
Embrace each other out of breath;
As Esop hugg'd his child to death.
Faith, leaping into sense's arms,
Allur'd with her bewitching charms,
In hugging these, lets rashly slip
The proper object of its grip.
Which being lost, behold the thrall!
Anon faith loses sense and all;
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