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Or he who feeds ambition's flame,
Loves he his neighbor like his fame?
6. He whose gross appetites enslave him,
Who spends or feasts the wealth God gave him,
How can such gormandizing elves
7. Then, since the man who lusts for gold,
Where shall we hope the man to find
8. I dare not blame God's holy word,
If placed so high that all must fail;
9. Yes, such there are, of heavenly mould, Unwarped by pleasure, ease, or gold; He who fulfils the nobler part,
By loving God with all his heart;
He, only he, the Scriptures prove,
10. Then join, to make a perfect plan,
This done, no more in vain you'll labor;
11. If then the rule's too hard to please ye,
"In vain shall feeble nature try."
'Tis true; but know a Christian is a creature
THE BAD BARGAIN;
THE WORLD SET UP TO SALE.
The devil, as the Scriptures show,
To one he offers empires whole,
Some are so fired with love of fame,
He bribes them by an empty name;
For fame they toil, they preach, they write,
Give alms, build hospitals, or fight;
For human praise renounce salvation,
And sell their souls for reputation.
But the great gift, the mighty bribe,
Round the wide world the tempter flies,
See, at yon needy tradesman's shop,
The universal tempter stop;
"Wouldst thou," he cries, "increase thy treasures,
Use lighter weights and scantier measures;
Thus thou shalt thrive;" the trader's willing,
And sells his soul to get a shilling.
Next Satan to a farmer hies.
Mark next yon cheerful youth so jolly,
But mark again yon lass a spinning;
Thus Satan tries each different state:
Oft, too, he cheats our mortal eyes,
Nay, oft, with quite a juggler's art,
Be wise then, O ye worldly tribe,
HERE AND THERE;
THIS WORLD AND THE NEXT.
BEING SUITABLE THOUGHTS FOR A NEW TEAR.
Here bliss is short, imperfect, insincere,
But total, absolute, and perfect there.
Here time's a moment, short our happiest state;
There infinite duration is our date.
Here Satan tempts, and troubles e'en the best;
There Satan's power extends not to the blest.
In a weak, sinful body here I dwell;
But there I drop this frail and sickly shell.
Here my best thoughts are stained with guilt and fear,
But love and pardon shall be perfect there.
Here my best duties are defiled with sin;
There all is ease without, and peace within.
Here feeble faith supplies my only light,
There faith and hope are swallowed up in sight.
Here love of self my fairest works destroys,
There love of God shall perfect all my joys.
Here things, as in a glass, are darkly shown;
There I shall know as clearly as I'm known.
Frail are the fairest flowers which bloom below,
There freshest palms on roots immortal grow.
Here wants or cares perplex my anxious mind,
But spirits there a calm fruition find.
Here disappointments my best schemes destroy,
There those that sowed in tears shall reap in joy.
Here vanity is stamped on all below,
Perfection there on every good shall grow.
Here my fond heart is fastened on some friend,
Whose kindness may, whose life must, have an end;
But there no failure can I ever prove;
God cannot disappoint, for God is love.
Here Christ for sinners suffered, groaned, and bled;
But there he reigns the great triumphant head:
Here, mocked and scourged, he wore a crown of thorns;
A crown of glory there his brow adorns.
Here error clouds the will, and dims the sight;
There all is knowledge, purity and light.
Here, so imperfect is this mortal state,
If blest myself, I mourn some other's fate.
At every human wo I here repine;
The joy of every saint shall there be mine.
Here, if I lean, the world shall pierce my heart,
But there that broken reed and I shall part.
Here on no promised good can I depend,
But there the Rock of ages is my friend.
Here, if some sudden joy delight inspire,
The dread to lose it damps the rising fire;
But there, whatever good the soul employ,
The thought that 'tis eternal, crowns the joy.