Wait for his seasonable aid, And though it tarry, wait: The promise may be long delay'd, But cannot come too late. III. JEHOVAH-ROPHI. I AM THE LORD THAT HEAL us, Emmanuel, here we are, Our faith is feeble, we confess, Remember him who once applied, "Lord, I believe," with tears he cried,* Oh, help my unbelief!" She too, who touch'd thee in the press, Was answer'd, "Daughter, go in peace,+ Conceal'd amid the gathering throng, *Mark ix. 24. + Mark v. 34. Like her, with hopes and fears we come, IV. JEHOVAH-NISSI. THE LORD MY BANNER. Exod. xvii. 15. By whom was David taught To aim the deadly blow, And laid the Gittite low? Nor sword nor spear the stripling took, But chose a pebble from the brook. 'Twas Israel's God and king Ye feeble saints, your strength endures, Who order'd Gideon forth, To storm the invaders' camp, With arms of little worth, A pitcher and a lamp? * The trumpets made his coming known, Oh! I have seen the day, When, with a single word, My trust is in the Lord, My soul hath quell'd a thousand foes, But unbelief, self-will, Yet David's Lord, and Gideon's friend, V. JEHOVAH-SHALOM. THE LORD SEND PEACE. JESUS, whose blood so freely stream'd, By thee from guilt and wrath redeem'd, To reconcile offending man, Make Justice drop her angry rod; No drop remains of all the curse, For wretches who deserved the whole; No arrows dipt in wrath to pierce Peace by such means so dearly bought, What rebel could have hoped to see? Peace, by his injured Sovereign wrought, His Sovereign fasten'd to a tree. Now, Lord, thy feeble worm prepare! For strife with earth and hell begins; Confirm and guard me for the war, They hate the soul that hates his sins. Let them in horrid league agree! They may assault, they may distress; But cannot quench thy love to me, Nor rob me of the Lord, my peace. VI. WISDOM. Prov. viii. 22-31. ERE God had built the mountains, Found pleasures never-wasting, When, like a tent to dwell in, He wrought by weight and measure, Thus Wisdom's words discover Of our unworthy race! And couldst thou be delighted And mystery divine! The voice that speaks in thunder, VII. VANITY OF THE WORLD. God gives his mercies to be spent; Gold is a blessing only lent, Repaid by giving others food. |