WHEN WE PUT OFF OUR APPAREL. S ere I down am couchéd there, Where now I hope to rest, I first from what I daily wear, So in my grave ere I shall be In bleft reposure laid, Of many rags yet worn by me My fruitless hopes, my foolish fears, My fleshly joys, my needless cares, Yea, that self-love which yet I wear More near me than my fkin, Of these and all such rags as these, My soul and body shall have ease, Nor fears of death, nor cares of life, Nor dreaming joys, nor waking grief, Therefore instruct Thou me, O God! With what vain things ourselves we load, Oh, help me tear those clouts away, And let them so be loathed ; That I on my last rifing day With glory may be clothed. And now when I am naked laid, That nothing make my heart afraid, And guard me so when down I lie, That fleep or wake, or live or die, I ftill may safe remain. LOVE. LOVE. ILL love appear, we live in anxious doubt; But out; TILL smoke will vanish when that flame breaks This is the fire that would consume our drofs, Refine and make us richer by the loss. Than thorns and thiftles springing from the curse. L LITTLE CHILDREN. OVE divine its word hath spoken; To the earnest, seeking spirit, It hath given a test, Marking the inheritors Of its heavenly rest. Oh, the bleffing, the rich bleffing! Is it thine and mine? Who are they, the true recipients Not in years alone Little children in the spirit, These He calls his own. Have ye love, like little children? Do your angels, near the Father, Then are ye within the kingdom! This the "myftic hydrome In life's golden cup. 'T was o'erturned when Eden's exiles Closed the garden door, But refilled again, forever With a new, divine elixir, Circling life with noble meaning And angelic lore, When the Holy Dove descended Upon Jordan's fhore. Little children, young and aged, Bear the bleffing up! Pour around the life elixir, From your golden cup! Love is the eternal childhood; Hither all must come, Who the kingdom would inherit Of the Heavenly Home. |