William Cowper- Collected Poetical Works

by William Cowper

Unfathomable wonder,

  And mystery divine!

  The voice that speaks in thunder,

  Says, “Sinner, I am thine!”

  VII. VANITY OF THE WORLD.

  God gives his mercies to be spent;

  Your hoard will do your soul no good;

  Gold is a blessing only lent,

  Repaid by giving others food.

  The world’s esteem is but a bribe,

  To buy their peace you sell your own;

  The slave of a vain-glorious tribe,

  Who hate you while they make you known.

  The joy that vain amusements give,

  Oh! sad conclusion that it brings!

  The honey of a crowded hive,

  Defended by a thousand stings.

  ’Tis thus the world rewards the fools

  That live upon her treacherous smiles:

  She leads them blindfold by her rules,

  And ruins all whom she beguiles.

  God knows the thousands who go down

  From pleasure into endless woe;

  And with a long despairing groan

  Blaspheme their Maker as they go.

  O fearful thought! be timely wise:

  Delight but in a Saviour’s charms,

  And God shall take you to the skies,

  Embraced in everlasting arms.

  VIII. O LORD, I WILL PRAISE THEE. — Isaiah xii.1.

  I will praise thee every day,

  Now thine anger’s turn’d away!

  Comfortable thoughts arise

  From the bleeding Sacrifice.

  Here in the fair gospel-field,

  Wells of free salvation yield

  Streams of life, a plenteous store,

  And my soul shall thirst no more.

  Jesus is become at length

  My salvation and my strength;

  And his praises shall prolong,

  While I live, my pleasant song.

  Praise ye then his glorious name,

  Publish his exalted fame!

  Still his worth your praise exceeds,

  Excellent are all his deeds.

  Raise again the joyful sound,

  Let the nations roll it round!

  Zion, shout, for this is he,

  God the Saviour dwells in thee!

  IX. THE CONTRITE HEART. — Isaiah lvii.15.

  The Lord will happiness divine

  On contrite hearts bestow;

  Then tell me, gracious God, is mine

  A contrite heart or no?

  I hear, but seem to hear in vain,

  Insensible as steel;

  If aught is felt, ’tis only pain

  To find I cannot feel.

  I sometimes think myself inclined

  To love thee, if I could;

  But often feel another mind,

  Averse to all that’s good.

  My best desires are faint and few,

  I fain would strive for more:

  But when I cry, “My strength renew,”

  Seem weaker than before.

  Thy saints are comforted, I know,

  And love thy house of prayer;

  I therefore go where others go,

  But find no comfort there.

  O make this heart rejoice or ache;

  Decide this doubt for me;

  And if it be not broken, break,

  And heal it if it be.

  X. THE FUTURE PEACE AND GLORY OF THE CHURCH. — Isaiah ix.15-20.

  Hear what God the Lord hath spoken,

  “O my people, faint and few,

  Comfortless, afflicted, broken,

  Fair abodes I build for you;

  Thorns of heart-felt tribulation

  Shall no more perplex your ways:

  You shall name your walls, Salvation,

  And your gates shall all be praise.

  “There, like streams that feed the garden,

  Pleasures without end shall flow;

  For the Lord, your faith rewarding,

  All his bounty shall bestow;

  Still in undisturb’d possession

  Peace and righteousness shall reign;

  Never shall you feel oppression,

  Hear the voice of war again.

  “Ye no more your suns descending,

  Waning moons no more shall see;

  But, your griefs for ever ending,

  Find eternal noon in me;

  God shall rise, and shining o’er you,

  Change to day the gloom of night;

  He, the Lord, shall be your glory,

  God your everlasting light.”

  XI. JEHOVAH OUR RIGHTEOUSNESS. — Jeremiah xxiii.6.

  My God, how perfect are thy ways!

  But mine polluted are;

  Sin twines itself about my praise,

  And slides into my prayer.

  When I would speak what thou hast done,

  To save me from my sin,

  I cannot make thy mercies known,

  But self-applause creeps in.

  Divine desire, that holy flame

  Thy grace creates in me;

  Alas! impatience is its name,

  When it returns to thee.

  This heart, a fountain of vile thoughts,

  How does it overflow!

  While self upon the surface floats,

  Still bubbling from below.

  Let others in the gaudy dress

  Of fancied merit shine;

  The Lord shall be my righteousness,

  The Lord for ever mine.

  XII. EPHRAIM REPENTING. — Jeremiah xxxi.18-20.

  My God, till I received thy stroke,

  How like a beast was I!

  So unaccustom’d to the yoke,

  So backward to comply.

  With grief my just reproach I bear,

  Shame fills me at the thought;

  How frequent my rebellions were!

  What wickedness I wrought!

  Thy merciful restraint I scorn’d,

  And left the pleasant road;

  Yet turn me, and I shall be turn’d,

  Thou art the Lord my God.

  “Is Ephraim banish’d from my thoughts,

  Or vile in my esteem?

  No,” saith the Lord, “with all his faults,

  I still remember him.

  “Is he a dear and pleasant child?

  Yes, dear and pleasant still;

  Though sin his foolish heart beguiled,

  And he withstood my will.

  “My sharp rebuke has laid him low,

  He seeks my face again;

  My pity kindles at his woe,

  He shall not seek in vain.”

  XIII. THE COVENANT. — Ezekiel xxxvi.25-28.

  The Lord proclaims his grace abroad!

  Behold, I change your hearts of stone;

  Each shall renounce his idol-god,

  And serve, henceforth, the Lord alone.

  My grace, a flowing stream, proceeds

  To wash your filthiness away;

  Ye shall abhor your former deeds,

  And learn my statutes to obey.

  My truth the great design ensures,

  I give myself away to you;

  You shall be mine, I will be yours,

  Your God unalterably true.

  Yet not unsought, or unimplored,

  The plenteous grace shall I confer;

  No — your whole hearts shall seek the Lord,

  I’ll put a praying spirit there.

  From the first breath of life divine,

  Down to the last expiring hour,

  The gracious work shall all be mine,

  Begun and ended in my power.

  XIV. JEHOVAH-SHAMMAH. — Ezekiel xlviii.35.

  As birds their infant brood protect,

  And spread their wings to shelter them,

  Thus saith the Lord to his elect,

  “So will I guard Jerusalem.”

  And what then is Jerusalem,

  This darling object of hi
s care?

  Where is its worth in God’s esteem?

  Who built it, who inhabits there?

  Jehovah founded it in blood,

  The blood of his incarnate Son;

  There dwell the saints, once foes to God,

  The sinners whom he calls his own.

  There, though besieged on every side,

  Yet much beloved and guarded well,

  From age to age they have defied

  The utmost force of earth and hell.

  Let earth repent, and hell despair,

  This city has a sure defence;

  Her name is call’d The Lord is there,

  And who has power to drive him thence?

  XV. PRAISE FOR THE FOUNTAIN OPENED. — Zechariah xiii.1.

  There is a fountain fill’d with blood

  Drawn from Emmanuel’s veins;

  And sinners, plunged beneath that flood,

  Lose all their guilty stains.

  The dying thief rejoiced to see

  That fountain in his day;

  And there have I, as vile as he,

  Wash’d all my sins away.

  Dear dying Lamb, thy precious blood

  Shall never lose its power,

  Till all the ransom’d church of God

  Be saved to sin no more.

  E’er since, by faith, I saw the stream

  Thy flowing wounds supply,

  Redeeming love has been my theme,

  And shall be till I die.

  Then in a nobler, sweeter song,

  I’ll sing thy power to save;

  When this poor lisping stammering tongue

  Lies silent in the grave.

  Lord, I believe thou hast prepared

  (Unworthy though I be)

  For me a blood-bought free reward,

  A golden harp for me!

  ’Tis strung, and tuned, for endless years,

  And form’d by power divine,

  To sound in God the Father’s ears

  No other name but thine.

  XVI. THE SOWER. — Matthew xiii.3.

  Ye sons of earth, prepare the plough,

  Break up the fallow ground;

  The sower is gone forth to sow,

  And scatter blessings round.

  The seed that finds a stony soil,

  Shoots forth a hasty blade;

  But ill repays the sower’s toil,

  Soon wither’d, scorch’d, and dead.

  The thorny ground is sure to balk

  All hopes of harvest there;

  We find a tall and sickly stalk,

  But not the fruitful ear.

  The beaten path and highway side

  Receive the trust in vain;

  The watchful birds the spoil divide,

  And pick up all the grain.

  But where the Lord of grace and power

  Has bless’d the happy field,

  How plenteous is the golden store

  The deep-wrought furrows yield!

  Father of mercies, we have need

  Of thy preparing grace;

  Let the same hand that gives the seed

  Provide a fruitful place.

  XVII. THE HOUSE OF PRAYER. — Mark xi.17.

  Thy mansion is the Christian’s heart,

  O Lord, thy dwelling-place secure!

  Bid the unruly throng depart,

  And leave the consecrated door.

  Devoted as it is to thee,

  A thievish swarm frequents the place;

  They steal away my joys from me,

  And rob my Saviour of his praise.

  There, too, a sharp designing trade

  Sin, Satan, and the world maintain;

  Nor cease to press me, and persuade

  To part with ease, and purchase pain.

  I know them, and I hate their din,

  Am weary of the bustling crowd;

  But while their voice is heard within,

  I cannot serve thee as I would.

  Oh for the joy thy presence gives,

  What peace shall reign when thou art here!

  Thy presence makes this den of thieves

  A calm delightful house of prayer.

  And if thou make thy temple shine,

  Yet self-abased, will I adore;

  The gold and silver are not mine,

  I give thee what was thine before.

  XVIII. LOVEST THOU ME? — John xxi.16.

  Hark, my soul! it is the Lord:

  ’Tis thy Saviour, hear his word;

  Jesus speaks, and speaks to thee:

  “Say, poor sinner, lovest thou me?

  “I deliver’d thee when bound,

  And when bleeding, heal’d thy wound;

  Sought thee wandering, set thee right,

  Turn’d thy darkness into light.

  “Can a woman’s tender care

  Cease towards the child she bare?

  Yes, she may forgetful be,

  Yet will I remember thee.

  “Mine is an unchanging love,

  Higher than the heights above;

  Deeper than the depths beneath,

  Free and faithful, strong as death.

  “Thou shalt see my glory soon,

  When the work of grace is done;

  Partner of my throne shalt be: —

  Say, poor sinner, lovest thou me?”

  Lord, it is my chief complaint,

  That my love is weak and faint;

  Yet I love thee and adore:

  Oh for grace to love thee more!

  XIX. CONTENTMENT. — Philippians iv.11.

  Fierce passions discompose the mind,

  As tempests vex the sea:

  But calm content and peace we find,

  When, Lord, we turn to thee.

  In vain by reason and by rule

  We try to bend the will;

  For none but in the Saviour’s school

  Can learn the heavenly skill.

  Since at his feet my soul has sat,

  His gracious words to hear,

  Contented with my present state,

  I cast on him my care.

  “Art thou a sinner, soul?” he said,

  “Then how canst thou complain?

  How light thy troubles here, if weigh’d

  With everlasting pain!

  “If thou of murmuring wouldst be cured,

  Compare thy griefs with mine;

  Think what my love for thee endured,

  And thou wilt not repine.

  “’Tis I appoint thy daily lot,

  And I do all things well;

  Thou soon shalt leave this wretched spot,

  And rise with me to dwell.

  “In life my grace shall strength supply,

  Proportion’d to thy day;

  At death thou still shalt find me nigh,

  To wipe thy tears away.

  Thus I, who once my wretched days

  In vain repinings spent,

  Taught in my Saviour’s school of grace,

  Have learnt to be content.

  XX. OLD TESTAMENT GOSPEL. — Hebrews iv.2.

  Israel, in ancient days,

  Not only had a view

  Of Sinai in a blaze,

  But learn’d the Gospel too;

  The types and figures were a glass

  In which they saw a Saviour’s face.

  The paschal sacrifice,

  And blood-besprinkled door,

  Seen with enlighten’d eyes,

  And once applied with power,

  Would teach the need of other blood,

  To reconcile an angry God.

  The Lamb, the Dove, set forth

  His perfect innocence,

  Whose blood of matchless worth

  Should be the soul’s defence;

  For he who can for sin atone,

  Must have no failings of his own.

  The scape-goat on his head

  The people’s trespass bore,

  And, to the desert led,

 
Was to be seen no more:

  In him our Surety seem’d to say,

  “Behold, I bear your sins away.”

  Dipt in his fellow’s blood,

  The living bird went free;

  The type, well understood,

  Express’d the sinner’s plea;

  Described a guilty soul enlarged,

  And by a Saviour’s death discharged.

  Jesus, I love to trace,

  Throughout the sacred page,

  The footsteps of thy grace,

  The same in every age!

  O grant that I may faithful be

  To clearer light vouchsafed to me!

  XXI. SARDIS. — Revelation iii.1-6.

  “Write to Sardis,” saith the Lord,

  And write what he declares,

  He whose Spirit, and whose word,

  Upholds the seven stars:

  “All thy works and ways I search,

  Find thy zeal and love decay’d:

  Thou art call’d a living church,

  But thou art cold and dead.

  “Watch, remember, seek, and strive,

  Exert thy former pains;

  Let thy timely care revive,

  And strengthen what remains:

  Cleanse thine heart, thy works amend

  Former times to mind recall,

  Lest my sudden stroke descend,

  And smite thee once for all.

  “Yet I number now in thee

  A few that are upright;

  These my Father’s face shall see,

  And walk with me in white.

  When in judgment I appear,

  They for mine shall be confest;