87
The Sea.25
By Newton
I
If for a time the air be calm,
Serene and smooth the sea appears,
And shows no danger to alarm
Th’inexperienced landsman’s fears;
II
But if the tempest once arise,
The faithless water swells and raves;
Its billows foaming to the skies,
Disclose a thousand threat’ning graves.
III
My untried heart thus seem’d to me
(So little of myself I knew,)
Smooth as the calm unruffled sea,
But ah! it proved as treach’rous too.
IV
The peace of which I had a taste
When Jesus first his love reveal’d,
I fondly hoped would always last
Because my foes were then conceal’d.
V
But when I felt the tempter’s power
Rouse my corruptions from their sleep,
I trembled at the stormy hour,
And saw the horrors of the deep.
VI
Now on presumption’s billows borne,
My spirit seem’d the Lord to dare;
Now, quick as thought, a sudden turn
Plunged me in gulfs of black despair.
VII
Lord, save me, or I sink, I pray’d;
He heard, and bid the tempest cease;
The angry waves his word obey’ d,
And all my fears were hush’d to peace.
VIII
The peace is his, and not my own;
My heart (no better than before)
Is still to dreadful changes prone,
Then let me never trust it more.
88
The Flood
By Newton
I
Through small the drops of falling rain
If one be singly view’d,
Collected, they o’erspread the plain.
And form a mighty flood.
II
The house it meets with in its course
Should not be built on clay,
Lest, with a wild, resistless force,
It sweep the whole away.
III
Though for awhile it seem secure.
It will not bear the shock
Unless it has foundations sure,
And stands upon a rock.
IV
Thus sinners think their evil deeds.
Like drops of rain, are small;
But it the power of thought exceeds
To count the sum of all.
V
One sin can raise, though small it seem.
A flood to drown the soul;
What then, when countless million stream—
Shall join to swell the whole!
VI
Yet, while they think the weather fair,
If warn’d they smile or frown:
But they will tremble and despair,
When the fierce flood comes down.
VII
Oh! then on Jesus ground your hope.
That Stone in Zion laid;
Lest your poor building quickly drop
With ruin on your head.
89
The Thaw
By Newton
I
The ice and snow we lately saw,
Which cover’d all the ground,
Are melted soon before the thaw,
And can no more be found.
II
Could all the art of man suffice
To move away the snow,
To clear the rivers from the ice,
Or make the waters flow?
III
No, ’tis the work of God alone;
An emblem of the power
By which he melts the heart of stone
In his appointed hour.
IV
All outward means, till he appears,
Will ineffectual prove;
Though much the sinner sees and hears,
He cannot learn to love.
V
But let the stoutest sinner feel
The soft’ning warmth of grace,
Though hard as ice or rocks or steel,
His heart dissolves apace.
VI
Seeing the blood which Jesus spilt
To save his soul from woe,
His hatred, unbelief, and guilt,
All melt away like snow.
VII
Jesus, we in thy name entreat,
Reveal thy gracious arm;
And grant thy Spirit’s kindly heat,
Our frozen hearts to warm.
90
The Loadstone
By Newton
I
As needles point towards the pole
When touch’d by the magnetic stone;
So faith in Jesus gives the soul
A tendency before unknown.
II
Till then, by blinded passions led,
In search of fancied good we range,
The paths of disappointment tread,
To nothing fix’d but love of change.
III
But when the Holy Ghost imparts
A knowledge of the Saviour’s love,
Our wand’ring, weary, restless hearts
Are fix’d at once, no more to move.
IV
Now a new principle takes place,
Which guides and animates the will;
This love, another name for grace,
Constrains to good, and bars from ill.
V
By love’s pure light we soon perceive
Our noblest bliss and proper end;
And gladly every idol leave,
To love and serve our Lord and Friend,
VI
Thus, borne along by faith and hope,
We feel the Saviour’s words are true;
“And I, if I be lifted up,
Will draw the sinner upward too.”
91
The Spider and Bee
By Newton
I
On the same flow’r we often see
The loathsome spider and the bee;
But what they get by working there
Is diff’rent as their natures are.
II
The bee a sweet reward obtains,
And honey well repays his pains;
Home to the hive he bears the store,
And then returns in quest of more.
III
But no sweet flow rs that grace the field
Can honey to the spider yield;
A cobweb all that he can spin,
And poison all the stores within.
IV
Thus in that sacred field, the Word,
With flow’rs of God’s own planting stored.
Like bees his children feed and thrive,
And bring home honey to the hive.
V
There, spider-like, the wicked come,
And seem to taste the sweet perfume;
But the vile venom of their hearts
To poison all their food converts.
VI
From the same truths believers prize
They weave vain refuges of lies;
And from the promise license draw
To trifle with the holy law.
VII
Lord, shall thy word of life and love
The means of death to numbers prove?
Unless thy grace our hearts renew26
We sink to hell with heaven in view.
92
The Bee Saved from the Spider
By Newton
I
The subtle spider often weaves
His unsuspected snares
Among the balmy flowers and leaves,
To which the bee repairs.
II
When in his web he sees one hang,
With a malicious joy
He darts upon it with his fang,
To poison and destroy.
III
How welcome then some pitying friend,
To save the threaten’d bee,
The spider’s treach’rous web to rend,
And set the captive free!
IV
My soul has been in such a case:
When first I knew
