When shall I that glad hour behold, When sin shall quit its deadly hold; When I my Christ unveiled shall see, And pass through all my misery! O that I could from sinning cease, And wait on Pisgah my release, Until I saw the dawn of day, And Jesus called his child away! If Thou wilt not complete me now, Before my head in death I bow, In dreary Kedar walk with me; My life would languish losing Thee. XXI. ANTICIPATION. If I, the sin-benighted, At length attain the goal, O what will be the transport Of my enraptured soul: The triumph celebrating Of saving Mercy's power, Nor dread again to perish, Nor wander evermore! XXII. KISSING THE ROD. Teach me Aaron's thoughtful silence When corrected by thy rod; Teach me Eli's acquiescence, Saying, "Do thy will, my God:" Teach me Job's confiding patience, Dreading words from pride that flow; For Thou, Lord, alone exaltest, And Thou only layest low. XXIII. SPEAKING UNTO GOD. How shall I my case discover, Who can estimate my grief! If a cloud thy presence darken, Nought can give my soul relief. Through the clouds let my entreaty-- Let these sighs to Thee ascend, Till new light break o'er my spirit-- Till thy gracious ear attend. All my groans, my sighs, and weeping, All my best resolves are vain, My most watchful thoughts avail not, Victory o'er sin to gain. Lord, His name I plead who suffered For lost man thy holy frown: See the reed, the cross, the scourging; See the robe, the thorny crown! Through the sole atoning merit Of the blood by Jesus shed, Scatter all the sin that hinders Heaven from shining on my head. Pardon all the great transgressions, Which I cannot count to Thee: Look for merits in my Saviour, Not, my righteous God, in me. If for sin He was afflicted, If the spear did pierce His side, If His hands and feet were nailèd, If flowed forth His vital tide; Let the fruit of that deep anguish, Let the purchase of that pain, Be imparted to my spirit-- Shall the plea be made in vain! XXIV. EXPERIENCE. (IN IMITATION OF A FAVOURITE WELSH MEASURE.) Sweet, sweet, It is with thine, my God, to meet, And lay our burdens at Thy feet: False passion's heat from thence departs; Our weary hearts before Thee rest, And by thee blessed forget their smarts.