The SOWER a Singer

Give me thy Heart, My SAVIOUR says: 'Tis what I strive to do. It's Barren: Change it, Lord, by Grace, A Fruitful Soyl into.

[1.] When the Seed of thy Word is cast On such a Beaten Road; Let not the Fruit of all be lost, Nor under Foot be trod. May't be no Unattentive Heart, When There thy Lessons fall; Let not Hell's Harpyes do their part To rob me of them all.

[2.] Oh, Do not leave my Heart to be An Unaffected Stone, Where Heavens Eye no Fruit will see, But what will soon be gone. Let there be found of PIETY In me a Root so deep, As from a vile Apostacy Will me for ever keep.

[3.] Lord, Let not worldly Lusts and Cares Thy Work in me annoy; Choak all good Fruit; and prove the snares That shall my Soul destroy. Ye Cursed Thorns I deprecate All your Entanglements. My SAVIOUR, Let not these defeat Thy Gospels kind Intents.

O Glorious CHRIST of GOD, from whom Does all my Fruit proceed; Let thy sweet Influences come, And quicken Thou the Seed. With Fruits make me a Blessed Field; More precious Things than Gold; With Fruits of thy Good SPIRIT fill'd, More than an Hundred fold.