The following Poems were found among some old papers, and are supposed to be original-they were written in the Island of Antigua shortly after Doctor Graham's death. PART 1. *These circumstances took place, as here described, although surviving friends had not then any knowledge of this poem. Who from all our comforts torn, Me my consort hath outrun, There my flesh shall rest in hope, Happy they who trust in Jesus, Jesus turns our loss to gain; Still his baliny mercies ease us, Sweeten all our grief and pain. When he calls our friends t' inherit All the glories of the blest; He assures the widow'd spirit, 19 "Thou shalt quickly be at rest.' Tho' my flesh and spirit languish, Let me not too much complain; He to-day is taken home; Come, my dear Redeemer, come. Now, or when thou wilt, receive, Grant with him in thine embraces, After all my deaths, to live. PART III. Hail! holy, holy, holy Lord! For this alone on earth I wait, And suffer since thou will'st the state "How shall I lift my guilty eyes, I long have wearied out thy grace? And sought a place of rest below. "In darkness willingly I stray'd, I sought thee, yet from thee I rov'd; Can I thy purer presence bear? Ere yet arrive the fatal hour; And raise me by thy quick'ning power. "My nature re-exchange for thine, Be thou my life, my hope, my gain; Clothe me with righteousness divine, And death shall shake his dart in vain. "When I thy promis'd Christ have seen, And clasp'd him in my soul's embrace; Then let me, Lord, depart in peace. My glory swallow'd up in shame. "Guilty I stand before thy face, I feel on me thy wrath abide; 'Tis just, the sentence should take place, 'Tis just, but, Oh! thy Son has died! "Jesus, the Lamb of God, hath bled, He bare our sins upon the tree; Beneath our curse, he bow'd his head, 'Tis finish'd! he hath died for me! "Lo! now before the throne he stands, And pours the all prevailing prayer; Points to his side, and lifts his hands, And shows that I am graven there. "He ever lives for me to pray; He prays that I, with him, may reign; Amen, to what my Lord doth say; Jesus, thou canst not pray in vain. "A stranger long to thee, and rest; Behold the prodigal is come; "O draw me, Saviour, after thee! Of pain, and sin, the dark abode; Allure, or tear me from my God. "Whither should now my soul aspire, But heav'nward, to my Saviour's breast; To gain her everlasting rest? And safe from my deceitful heart. |