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PART IV.

The BELIEVER'S LODGING and INN while

on earth;

OR,

A Poem and Paraphrafe upon Pfalm lxxxiv.

Ver. 1. How amiable are thy tabernacles, O Lord of hosts!

JEB

EHOVAH, Father, Son, and Holy Ghoft, Sole Monarch of the universal hoft, Whom the attendant armies ftill revere, Which in bright robes furround the higher sphere;

Whose fov'reign empire fways the hellish band Of ranked legions in th' infernal land;

Who hold'ft the earth at thy unrivall❜d beck, And stay'ft proud forces with a humbling check; Ev'n thou whofe name commands an awful

dread,

Yet deigns to dwell with man in very deed;
O what refreshment fills the dwelling place
Of thine exuberant unbounded grace! [tort,
Which with sweet pow'r does joy and praise ex-
In Zion's tents, thine ever lov'd refort:
Where glad'ning ftreams of mercy from above
Makes fouls brim-full of warm feraphic love.
Of sweetest odours all thy garments fmells;
Thy difmal abfence proves a thousand hells,
But heav'ns of joy are where thine honour dwells.

Ver. 2. My foul langeth, yea, even fainteth for the courts of the Lord; my heart and my flesh crieth out for the living God.

Therefore on thee I centre my defire, Which veh❜mently burfts out in ardent fire. Deprived, ah! I languifh in my plaint, My bones are feeble, and my fpirits faint. My longing foul pants to behold again Thy temple fill'd with thy majeftic train; Those palaces with heav'nly odour ftrew'd, And regal courts, where Zion's King is view'd; To fee the beauty of the higheft One, Upon his holy mount, his lofty throne: Whence virtue running from the living Head Reftores the dying, and revives the dead. For him my heart with cries repeated founds, To which my flesh with echoes loud rebounds; For him, for him, who life in death can give. For him, for him, whofe fole prerogative Is from and to eternity to live.,

Ver. 3. Yea, the Sparrow bath found an houfe, and the fwallow a neft for herself, where he may lay her young, even thine altars, O Lord of hosts, my King and my God.

Alas! how from thy lovely dwellings I, Long banifh'd, do the happy birds envy; Which, choofing thy high altars for their nest, On rafters of thy tabernacle rest!

Here dwells the (parrow of a chirping tongue,
And here the swallow lays her tender young:
Faint facrilege! they feize the facred spot,
And feem to glory o'er my abfent lot.
Yet fure I have more fpecial right to thee
Than all the brutal hofts of earth and sea :

That Sov'reign, at whose government they bow, Is wholly mine by his eternal vow;

My King to rule my heart, and quell my foes, My God t' extract my well from prefent woes, And crown with endless glory at the close.

Ver. 4. Bieffed are they that dwell in thy houfe : they will be fill praifing thee.

O happy they that haunt thy house below, And to thy royal fanctuary flow:

Not for itself, but for the glorious One,
Who there inhabits his erected throne!
Others pass by, but here their dwelling is!
O happy people crown'd with bays of blifs!
Blefs'd with the splendid luftre of his face,
Blefs'd with the high melodious found of grace,
That wakens fouls into a sweet amaze,
And turns their fpirits to a harp of praise ;
Which loudly makes the lower temple ring
With hallelujabs to the mighty King:
And thus they antedate the nobler fong
Of that celestial and triumphant throng,
Who warble notes of praife eternity along.

Ver. 5. Bleed is the man whofe ftrength is in thee:

What weights of blifs their happy fhoulders load,

Whose ftrength lies treasur'd in a potent God? Self-drained fouls, yet flowing to the brim, Because void in themselves, but full in him. Adam the first discuss'd their stock of strength, The fecond well retriev'd the fum at length; Who keeps 't himself a furer hand indeed, To give not as they lift, but as they need.

When raging furies threaten fudden harms,
He then extends his everlasting arms;
When Satan drives his pointed fiery darts,
He gives them courage and undaunted hearts
To quell his deadly force with divine skill, [will:
And adds new ftrength to do their Sov'reign's
When fore harafs'd by fome outrageous luft,
He levelling its pow'r unto the duft

Makes faints to own him worthy of their trust. Ver. 6. In whofe hearts are the ways of them, who paffing through the valley of Bacca, make it a well: the rain also filleth the pools.

Such heav'n-born fouls are not to earth conTruth's high-way fills his elevated mind: [fin'd, They, bound for Zion, press with forward aim, As Ifr'el's males to old Jerufalem.

Their holy path lies through a parched land,
Through oppofitions numerous and grand.
Traverfing fcorched defarts, ragged rocks,
And Bacca's wither'd vale, like thirsty flocks :
Yet with unfhaken vigour homeward go,
Not mov'd by all oppofing harms below.
They digging wells on this Gilboa top,
The vale of Achor yields a door of hope:,
For Heav'n in plenty does their labour crown
By making filver fhowers to trickle down;
Till empty pools imbibe a pleasant fill,

And weary fouls are heart'ned up the hill,
By maffy drops of joy which down diftill.
Ver. 7. They go from ftrength to strength, every one
of them in Zion appeareth before God.

Thus they, refreshed by fuperior aid, Are not defatigated nor difmay'd;

Part IV.
Because they are, O truth of awful dread!
As potent as JEHOVAH in their Head.
Hence they fhall travel with triumphant minds,
In fpite of ragged paths, and boift'rous winds.
The rougheft ways their vigour ne'er abates,
Each new affault their ftrength redintegrates.
When they through mortal blows feem to give
o'er,

Their ftrength by intermitting gathers more.
And thus they, with unweary'd zeal endu'd,
Still as they journey have their strength renew'd
So glorious is the race, that once begun
Each one contends his fellow to outrun;
Till all uniting in a glorious band,

Before the Lamb's high throne adoring stand,
And harp his lofty praife in Zion-land.

Ver. 8. O Lord God of hafts, hear my prayer: give ear, O God of Jacob.

Great God of num'rous hofts, who reigns alone
The fole poffeffor of th' imperial throne;
Since mental taftes of thy delicious grace
So fweetly relifh in thy holy place,

This is the fubject of my tabled pray'r,
To have the vifion of thy glory there..
O let my cry pierce the ethereal frame,
And mercy's echo follow down the fame..
Omniscient Being, favour my defire,
Hide not thy goodness in paternal ire:
Why, thou haft giv'n in an eternal band,
To Jacob and his feed thy royal hand,
And promis'd by thy facred Deity..
His King and covenanted God to be:
Therefore my hopes are center'd all in thee.

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