 | Collected poems of Samuel Davies : 1723-1761 |  |
IV. Sight thro' a Glass, and Face to Face. (annext to a Sermon on Matt. v. 6. March 18, 1750. before the Lord's Supper.)
The Channel of Thy Word conveys
The sweet Instructions of thy Grace;
And sacred Emblems, thro' the Sense,
Strengthen our Faith with Evidence.
My infant Days were wholly Thine,
Devoted by an early Sign ;
And at Thy holy Table still
I bind myself to do Thy Will.
Once more I purpose to renew
The Tie, and promise to be true.
Once more beneath Thy Cross I'll sit
Weeping, and gladly dedicate
My Soul, my Days, my All to Thee.
Who groan'd away Thy Life for me.
The sweet Instructions of thy Grace;
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Strengthen our Faith with Evidence.
My infant Days were wholly Thine,
Devoted by an early Sign ;
And at Thy holy Table still
I bind myself to do Thy Will.
Once more I purpose to renew
The Tie, and promise to be true.
Once more beneath Thy Cross I'll sit
Weeping, and gladly dedicate
My Soul, my Days, my All to Thee.
Who groan'd away Thy Life for me.
Thro' various Types and Shadows dart
Thy Glories on my ravish'd Heart;
While far above created Sight,
Thou fit'st enthron'd on Hills of Light.
Thy Glories on my ravish'd Heart;
While far above created Sight,
Thou fit'st enthron'd on Hills of Light.
But say, shall Types and Figures still
The Glories of Thy Face conceal?
While these thick Shades Thy Beauty shroud,
It breaks but faintly thro' the Cloud.
I love Thine Image in a Glass;
But Oh! to see Thy naked Face!
Thyself I long, I pant to see;
I turn mine Eyes in Quest of Thee.
Where is that dear, incarnate God,
That once on Earth made His Abode?
That Jesus, who upon the Tree
Languish'd, and bled, and died for me?
Ah! will my Saviour now be shy,
Whose Love excited Him to die?
He found me when I sought him not;
And will he not be found, when sought?
The Glories of Thy Face conceal?
While these thick Shades Thy Beauty shroud,
It breaks but faintly thro' the Cloud.
I love Thine Image in a Glass;
But Oh! to see Thy naked Face!
Thyself I long, I pant to see;
I turn mine Eyes in Quest of Thee.
Where is that dear, incarnate God,
That once on Earth made His Abode?
That Jesus, who upon the Tree
Languish'd, and bled, and died for me?
Ah! will my Saviour now be shy,
Whose Love excited Him to die?
He found me when I sought him not;
And will he not be found, when sought?
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The Glories of Thy Face display,
Tho' Life should for the Vision pay.
O! let me die, opprest with Light,
Rather than live without the Sight.
Tho' Life should for the Vision pay.
O! let me die, opprest with Light,
Rather than live without the Sight.
| Collected poems of Samuel Davies : 1723-1761 | |