Profession

True and False Comforts

O God, whose favourable eye
The sin-sick soul revives,
Holy and heavenly is the joy
Thy shining presence gives.

Not such as hypocrites suppose,
Who with a graceless heart
Taste not of Thee, but drink a dose,
Prepared by Satan’s art.

Intoxicating joys are theirs,
Who while they boast their light,
And seem to soar above the stars,
Are plunging into night.

Lull’d in a soft and fatal sleep,
They sin and yet rejoice;
Were they indeed the Saviour’s sheep,
Would they not hear His voice?

Be mine the comforts that reclaim
The soul from Satan’s power;
That make me blush for what I am,
And hate my sin the more.

‘Tis joy enough, my All in All,
At Thy dear feet to lie;
Thou wilt not let me lower fall,
And none can higher fly.

Olney Hymns, William Cowper, from Cowper’s Poems, Sheldon & Company, New York

The Lord receives His highest praise
From humble minds and hearts sincere;
While all the loud professor says
Offends the righteous Judge’s ear.

To walk as children of the day,
To mark the precept’s holy light,
To wage the warfare, watch, and pray,
Shew who are pleasing in His sight.

Not words alone it cost the Lord,
To purchase pardon for His own;
Nor will a soul by grace restored
Return the Saviour words alone.

With golden bells, the priestly vest,
And rich pomegranates border’d round,
The need of holiness express’d,
And call’d for fruit as well as sound.

Easy indeed it were to reach
A mansion in the courts above,
If swelling words and fluent speech
Might serve instead of faith and love.

But none shall gain the blissful place,
Or God’s unclouded glory see,
Who talks of free and sovereign grace,
Unless that grace has made him free!

Olney Hymns, William Cowper, from Cowper’s Poems, Sheldon & Company, New York