A Meditation

Can I forget that Hand, that first did lay My mean Foundation out of Dust or Clay? Can I forget the Breath that did inspire My lifeless Mass with pure eternal Fire? Can I forget the Word, that first said Live; And with its Vertue, Life did to me give? Can I forget that Eye, that guideth me With heav'nly Brightness thro' Obscurity? Can I forget that holy Arm of Power, That guards and keeps me safe as in a Tower? Can I forget that sweet Celestial Bread, By which, when hungry, I am nourished? Or can my Soul ever unmindful be Of those refreshing Streams that slow from thee? Thou great eternal Fountain of all Good! Whose Name by Mortals is not understood; Nor can, by Letters, Words or Sencences, Be rightly comprehended as it is: For thou art All in All; And who can say, He can remember thee another Day? Except thy holy Spirit still abide, And lodge with us, to teach, direct and guide Our Hearts and Thoughts, and quicken good Desires, Whereby we long for thee, when thou retires To thy Pavilion, to thy secret Place; So that we rest not, till we see thy Face: For thou alone prepares true Rest for thine; Tho' furious Men against the Saints combine, Their Habitation they can ne'er destroy, By all their hostile Arts and Policy: For it is founded on the Rock that shall Abide; and, tho' Waves beat, shall never fail, As faithful they remain to thee, that art Author of Faith, that Shield from ev'ry Dart, Ah, why should any doubt? Thy Arm's the same As ever; all sufficient to restrain The Wrath of Man, tho' (as a flowing Tide) It seems resistless: If thou please to guide Our feeble Footsteps in thy Path, we shall Not be dismay'd, but follow thee thro' all That would oppose; thou art our chiefest Guard Yea, thou art our exceeding great Reward. Ah! take up thy Abode with us! For we Can find no Resting-place, except in thee.