DESPAIR, AND ITS REMEDY. "Having no hope, and without God in the world."Ephesians ii. 12. "The whole head is sick, and the whole heart faint. From the sole of the foot even unto the head, there is no soundness in it; but wounds, and bruises, and putrefying sores."-Isaiah i. 5, 6. "Is there no balm in Gilead; is there no physician there?"-Jeremiah viii. 22. "Come now, and let us reason together, saith the Lord; though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they be red like crimson, they shall be as wool."-Isaiah i, 18. "Come unto me all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest."-Matthew xi. 28. HOPE! there is none for me, not one bright ray Of blessed hope to cheer my spirit's sadness; No golden gleam of an eternal day, A state of sinless joy and heavenly gladness! Dark is my soul, darker than Egypt's night Of endless torment in that gulf of pain From whence once plunged, no soul returns again. My sins like mountains rise, and weigh me down Before whose voice the thunders cease to roar; What refuge shall I find, where shall I fly From the stern gaze of His all-searching eye? Can the huge mountains hide me in some cave Bury me deep beneath the briny flood?- The proud waves stay, and to their utmost verge The firm rocks shake, and own their Maker, God. Is there no cleansing stream, no refuge, say, Peace, troubled spirit-stay the flowing tears, whole, In willing love He bowed His head and died; In glory, now, He still invites thy soul THE RUFFLED NEST. "As an eagle stirreth up her nest, fluttereth over her young, spreadeth abroad her wings, taketh them, beareth them on her wings; so the Lord alone did lead him, and there was no strange God with him."Deut. xxxii. 11, 12. HE hath stirred up thy nest, His chastening hand Has touched thy pleasant gourds, thy brightest hopes Of happiness, that in this foreign land Thou mayest not linger by the sunny slopesThe rich and verdant plains, but speed thy way To the bright realms of everlasting day. He hath stirred up thy nest, to make thee feel Thou hast no portion in this land of woe; A life of ease, of earthly joy might steal Thy heart from heaven, and chain thy thoughts below. Love rules the dealings of thy gracious God, Then faint thou not, but kiss the chastening rod. What hast thou here? a frail and shattered tent Linger not here, e'en by the murm'ring fount, Or palm tree's pleasant shade, but onward move, And climb with eager foot the heavenly mount, Dwell in the sheltering rock, the cleft of love, |