Peace of CONSCIENCE and Prayer for HEALTH

Yet, gracious God, amidst these storms of nature, Thine eyes behold a sweet and sacred calm Reign thro' the realms of conscience: all within Lies peaceful, all compos'd. 'Tis wondrous grace Keeps off thy terrors from this humble bosom, Tho' stain'd with sins and follies, yet serene In penitential peace and cheerful hope, Sprinkled and guarded with atoning blood. Thy vital smiles amidst this desolation Like heavenly sun-beams hid behind the clouds, Break out in happy moments, with bright radiance Cleaving the gloom; the fair celestial light Softens and gilds the horrors of the storm, And richest cordials to the heart conveys.

O glorious solace of immense distress, A conscience and a GOD! a friend at home, And better friend on high! This is my rock Of firm support, my shield of sure defence Against infernal arrows. Rise, my soul, Put on thy courage: Here's the living spring Of joys divinely sweet and ever new, A peaceful conscience, and a smiling heaven.

My GOD, permit a creeping worm to say, Thy spirit knows I love thee. Worthless wretch, To dare to love a GOD! But grace requires, And grace accepts. Thou seest my labouring soul: Weak as my zeal is, yet my zeal is true; It bears the trying furnace. Love divine Constrains me; I am thine. Incarnate love Has seiz'd and holds me in almighty arms: Here's my salvation, my eternal hope, Amidst the wreck of worlds and dying nature. I am the Lord's, and he for ever mine.

O thou all-powerful word, at whose first call Nature arose; this earth, these shining heavens, These stars in all their ranks came forth, and said, We are thy servants: Didst thou not create, My frame, my breath, my being, and bestow A mind immortal on thy feeble creature Who faints before thy face? Did not thy pity Dress thee in flesh to die, that I might live, And with thy blood redeem this captive soul From guilt and death? O thrice adored name, My king, my saviour, my Emanuel, say, Have not thy eye-lids mark'd my painful toil, The wild confusions of my shatter'd powers, And broken fluttering thoughts? Hast thou not seen Each restless atom that with vexing influence Works thro' the mass of man? Each noxious juice, Each ferment that infects the vital humours, That heaves the veins with huge disquietude And spreads the tumult wide? Do they not lie Beneath thy view, and all within thy reach? Yes, all at thy command, and must obey Thy sovereign touch: Thy touch is health and life, And harmony to nature's jarring strings.

When shall my midnight sighs and morning groans Rise thro' the heights of heaven, and reach thy ear Propitious? See, my spirit's feeble powers Exhal'd and breathing upward to thy throne, Like early incense climbing through the sky From the warm altar. When shall grace and peace Descend with blessings, like an evening shower On the parch'd desart, and renew my bloom? Or must thy creature breathe his soul away In fruitless groans, and die? Come, blest Physician, come attend the moan Of a poor suffering wretch, a plaintive worm, Crush'd in the dust and helpless. O descend, Array'd in power and love, and bid me rise. Incarnate goodness, send thy influence down To these low regions of mortality Where thou hast dwelt, and clad in fleshly weeds Learnt sympathetic sorrows; send and heal My long and sore distress. Ten thousand praises Attend Thee: David's harp is ready strung For the Messiah's name: A winged flight Of songs harmonious, and new honours wait The steps of moving mercy.