University of Virginia Library

HYMN 68.

[The Wind, Lord, is invisible]

Joh. 3. 8. The Wind bloweth where it listeth, &c.

[The First Part.]

The Wind, Lord, is invisible,
Its way we can't find out;
No Mortal can thy Spirit see,
Though he does search about.
His motions they most hidden are,
Mysterious in their kind,

169

That thou dost them oft times compare
To motions of the Wind.
The Wind at thy command doth blow;
Lord 'tis as thou dost please,
Thy Spirit moves on us below
To wound, or to give ease:
According to thy Sovereign Grace
It operates on Men;
Sometimes he doth sharply rebuke,
Then cherishes agen.
Like as the North-wind, so does he
The Worms and Weeds destroy;
Those filthy Vermin which we see,
Our Souls so much annoy
He tryals and afflictions lays
On us, and does reprove;
And then sweet Southern-gales displays,
Our sorrows to remove.

The second Part.

He like the Wind doth Clouds expell,
And makes a clearer Air;
Our ignorance he doth repeal,
And makes our Sun shine clear.
He, like the Wind, does search and try,
And pierces ev'ry part,

170

By which he does discern and spy
The secrets of each heart.
He dryes up all our ways so foul,
And makes our paths more clean;
He makes a holy gracious Soul,
Which had most filthy been.
His influence and bless'd effects
We oftentimes do feel;
He makes the tender Willows bend,
And mighty Cedars reel:
He makes the glory of Man to fade
Like Flowers of the Field,
And throws down houses such have made
Who on the sands do build.
He blows oft times till Rain does fall,
Or Tears do pour amain;
And afterwards we see withall
He clears our sky again.

The Third Part.

Men with much care and observance
Do mind how the Winds blow;
So we th'Spirits influence
Likewise should strive to know.
Our Souls becalm'd sometimes we see
For want of a fresh gale,
Without thy Spirit move can't we,
Thy Wind must fill our sayl.

171

Sometimes thy Spirit blows so slow
As if it quite were still,
Yet at such times his work doth do
With strange and wondrous skill:
From all which things it doth appear
Th'Spirits Operations
Are sometimes less, and sometimes more,
He differs in his motions.
Let's cry to God who holds the Winds
In his Almighty Fist,
Who makes it blow this way or that,
As he himself doth list;
That he would send a fresher gale
Upon his Garden so,
That our sweet Fruit may never fail,
But Spices forth may flow.