And blinded still the more.
III
The pardon such presume upon,
They do not beg but steal;
And when they plead it at thy throne,
Oh! where’s the Spirit’s seal?
IV
Was it for this, ye lawless tribe,
The dear Redeemer bled?
Is this the grace the saints imbibe
From Christ the living head?
V
Ah, Lord! we know thy chosen few
Are fed with heavenly fare;
But these, the wretched husks they chew
Proclaim them what they are.
VI
The liberty our hearts implore,
Is not to live in sin;
But still to wait at Wisdom’s door,
‘Till Mercy calls us in.
73
The Narrow Way
By Cowper
I
What thousands never knew the road!
What thousands hate it when ’tis known!
None but the chosen tribes of God
Will seek or choose it for their own.
II
A thousand ways in ruin end,
One only leads to joys on high;
By that my willing steps ascend,
Pleased with a journey to the sky.
III
No more I ask or hope to find
Delight or happiness below;
Sorrow may well possess the mind
That feeds where thorns and thistles grow.
IV
The joy that fades is not for me,
I seek immortal joys above;
There glory without end shall be
The bright reward of faith and love.
V
Cleave to the world, ye sordid worms,
Contented lick your native dust;
But God shall fight with all his storms,
Against the idol of your trust.
74
Dependence
By Cowper
I
To keep the lamp alive,
With oil we fill the bowl;
’Tis water makes the willow thrive,
And grace that feeds the soul.
II
The Lord’s unsparing hand
Supplies the living stream;
It is not at our own command,
But still derived from him.
III
Beware of Peter’s word,
Nor confidently say,
“I never will deny thee, Lord,”
But grant I never may.
IV
Man’s wisdom is to seek
His strength in God alone;
And even an angel would be weak
Who trusted in his own.
V
Retreat beneath his wings,
And in his grace confide;
This more exalts the King of kings
Than all your works beside.
VI
In Jesus is our store,
Grace issues from his throne;
Whoever says, “I want no more,”
Confesses he has none.
75
Not of Works
By Cowper
I
Grace, triumphant in the throne,
Scorns a rival, reigns alone;
Come and bow beneath her sway,
Cast your idol-works away.
Works of man, when made his plea,
Never shall accepted be;
Fruits of pride (vain-glorious worm)
Are the best he can perform.
II
Self, the god his soul adores,
Influences all his pow’rs;
Jesus is a slighted name,
Self-advancement all his aim:
But when God the Judge shall come,
To pronounce the final doom,
Then for rocks and hills to hide
All his works and all his pride!
III
Still the boasting heart replies,
What, the worthy and the wise,
Friends to temperance and peace,
Have not these a righteousness?
Banish every vain pretence
Built on human excellence;
Perish every thing in man,
But the grace that never can.
76
Sin’s Deceit
By Newton
I
Sin, when view’d by Scripture light,
Is a horrid, hateful sight;
But when seen in Satan’s glass,
Then it wears a pleasing face.
II
When the gospel-trumpet sounds,
When I think how grace abounds,
When I feel sweet peace within,
Then I’d rather die than sin.
III
When the cross I view by faith,
Sin is madness, poison, death:
Tempt me not, ’tis all in vain,
Sure I ne’er can yield again.
IV
Satan for a while debarr’d,
When he finds me off my guard,
Puts his glass before my eyes,
Quickly other thoughts arise.
V
What before excited fears,
Rather pleasing now appears;
If I sin, it seems so small,
Or perhaps no sin at all.
VI
Often thus through sin’s deceit,
Grief and shame and loss I meet;
Like a fish, my soul mistook,
Saw the bait, but not the hook.
VII
O my Lord, what shall I say?
How can I presume to pray?
Not a word have I to plead,
Sins like mine are black indeed.
VIII
Made by past experience wise,
Let me learn thy word to prize;
Taught by what I’ve felt before,
Let me Satan’s glass abhor.
77
Are There Few That Shall Be Saved?
By Newton
I
Destruction’s dangerous road
What multitudes pursue,
While that which leads the soul to God
Is known or sought by few.
II
Believers enter in
By Christ, the living gate;
But they who will not leave their sin,
Complain it is too strait.
III
If self must be denied,
And sin forsaken quite,
They rather choose the way that’s wide,
And strive to think it right.
IV
Encompass’d by a throng,
On numbers they depend;
So many surely can’t be wrong,
And miss a happy end.
V
But numbers are no mark
That men will right be found;
A few were saved in Noah’s ark,
For many millions drown’d.
VI
Obey the gospel call,
And enter while you may,
The flock of Christ is always small,
And none are safe but they.
VII
Lord, open sinners eyes
Their awful state to see;
And make them, ere the storm arise,
To thee for safety flee.
78
The Sluggard
By Newton
I
The wishes that the sluggard frames,
Of course must fruitless prove;
With folded arms he stands and dreams,
But has no heart to move.
II
His field from others may be known,
The fence is broken through,
The ground with weeds is overgrown,
And no good crop in view.
III
No hardship he or toil can bear,
No difficulty meet;
He wastes his hours at home, for fear
Of lions in the street.
IV
What wonder then, if sloth and sleep
Distress and famine bring.
Can he in harvest hope to reap,
Who will not sow in spring?
V
’Tis often thus in soul concerns
We gospel sluggards see;
Who, if a wish would serve their turns,
Might true believers be.
VI
But when the preacher bids them watch,
