A poet's cat, sedate and grave
As poet well could wish to have,
Was much addicted to inquire
For nooks to which she might retire,
...
Thy mansion is the Christian's heart,
O Lord, Thy dwelling place secure!
Bid the unruly throng depart,
And leave the consecrated door.
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To keep the lamp alive,
With oil we fill the bowl;
'Tis water makes the willow thrive,
And grace that feeds the soul.
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The new-born child of gospel grace,
Like some fair tree when summer's nigh,
Beneath Emmanuel's shining face
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Sin has undone our wretched race;
But Jesus has restored,
And brought the sinner face to face
With his forgiving Lord.
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My song shall bless the Lord of all,
My praise shall climb to His abode;
Thee, Saviour, by that name I call,
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Jesus! whose blood so freely stream'd
To satisfy the law's demand;
By Thee from guilt and wrath redeem'd,
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The new-born child of gospel grace,
Like some fair tree when summer's nigh,
Beneath Emmanuel's shining face
...
The Lord receives his highest praise
From humble minds and hearts sincere;
While all the loud professor says
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I thirst, but not as once I did,
The vain delights of earth to share;
Thy wounds, Emmanuel, all forbid
That I should seek my pleasures there.
...