TO MR. JOSIAH MINOR. A Hymn on Communion with God

Far hence away my fears, Let ev'ry gloom depart; Forbear to flow, ye briny tears, Or throb this aching heart.

Jesus displays his grace; I feel his glories shine; And the sweet vision of his face Yields ecstacies divine.

Beneath his gracious smiles, My soul o'erflows with bliss; And sorrows, sins, cares, guilt and toils, Are lost in happiness.

When I can call thee mine— Of thee, my God, possest; For greater joys I'd ne'er repine, For I am truly blest.

Here let me ever dwell, And o'er thy beauties gaze; To the wide world thy glories tell, And spread thro' earth thy praise.

Creations ample round Can no such joys afford; Supreme delight alone is found— Alone in thee, my Lord.

Increase the sacred view, Nor let my sins controul; With ev'ry look transform anew Thy servant's thirsting soul.

My God! for thee I pant— To thee, my God! I cry— 'Tis Heav'n, if thou thy presence grant, 'Tis death, if thou deny.

Lo! at thy feet I fall, And prostrate in the dust; Jesus, to thee commend my all, My hope, my only trust.

I'll praise my God and King, While life and breath remains— 'Till death consigns this soul to sing In more angelic strains.

Then to the worlds on high I'll soar, on wings of love, Join in the anthems of the sky, And aid the songs above.