I cannot rest, I never dare, In my Creator's gracious care My inmost soul rejoices, To God most High, when all things raise A song of universal praise, My voice shall join their voices. Methinks it is so pleasant here, All things so beautiful appear In this our poor world even; What will it be when earth we leave, And at its golden gates receive Glad welcome into Heaven? What purest light, what ecstasy, Will in the Saviour's garden be! How will it sound when 'fore Thee, All with united heart and voice, Ten thousand seraphins rejoice And rev'rently adore Thee. Ah! blessèd God, oh! were I there Before Thy throne, and did I bear My branch of palm victorious, As angels do, my voice I'd raise Thine ever blessèd name to praise, In songs of triumph glorious. But though I still am dwelling here, And still the body's burden bear, Can I be silent?--Never! My heart, no matter where I be, Or here or there, shall bend to Thee, In adoration ever. Help! Lord, my soul with blessings crown, With blessings that from Heav'n flow down, That I may blossom ever! And may the summer of Thy grace Cause fruits of faith to grow apace, Fruits that shall wither never. And may Thy Spirit dwell in me, May I a good branch ever be Ingrafted in the Saviour! In Thine own garden may I be To Thy name's praise a goodly tree, Implanted by Thy favour! Grant me Thy paradise to share, And more fruit may I ever bear While I am going thither. Thine honour, Lord, to me is dear, Thee and Thee only shall I here And yonder serve for ever. OCCASIONED BY GREAT AND UNSEASONABLE RAIN. O God! who dost Heav'n's sceptre wield What is it that now makes our field, And everything that it doth bear, Such sad and ruin'd aspect wear? Nought else, in truth, but that the band Of men from Thee on every hand Have fallen utterly away, Their guilt increasing every day. They who as God's own property His name should praise continually, And of God's word should love the light, Like heathen are involv'd in night. The Heav'ns are all with darkness clad, The firmament's clear light doth fade; We wait to see the light again At dawn of day, but wait in vain. In ceaseless strifes involv'd men are, In every place is fearful war, In every corner hate and spite, Contentions every class delight. The elements o'er all the land Are stretching out 'gainst us the hand, And troubles from the sea arise, And troubles come down from the skies. It is a time of anguish sore, For hunted, plagued their time before The people are into the grave, No rest to them do they vouchsafe.