“Let us praise Him for the past; let us trust Him for the future.”
“The course of Time!" Oh, can we scan
Its streams since first our lives began;
The past with all its joys and tears,
Its sunny hopes, and cloudy fears;
Nor trust that He, whose tender arm
Hath crowned with good, preserved from harm,
Will never cease our Guide to be,
Through Time and through Eternity?
A few years since, without a guide,
I launched on life's deceitful tide;
My chart despised, my compass lost,
By each temptation tempest-tossed:
Where pleasure's treacherous meteor flashed,
Fearless of ill, I reckless dashed;
And sought-but God and heaven forgot-
For happiness, and found it not.
Thus wandering from my Savior's fold,
In sin and mad rebellion bold;
Lo! suddenly, on Calvary reared
The Cross, the wondrous Cross, appeared;
I saw Emmanuel crucified,
His bleeding hands, His pierced-side;
I felt my sins, I knew my guilt,
For them His precious blood was spilled.
And did my gracious Savior die
For such a sinful wretch as I?
Did He for me God's wrath endure,
My peace and pardon to procure?
Yes, blessed Jesus, Thou alone
For sins, like mine, couldst e'er atone;
Thee will I serve, and Thee adore,
Forever, and for evermore!
But, oh, my heart was cold and weak,
And oft ashamed of Christ to speak;
And, foolish still, the world pursued,
Forgetful of its highest good;
But my kind Shepherd still forbore:
He led me to this sultry shore;
And made this wilderness supply
Those living streams that never dry.
A few months since, His gracious hand
Brought us to this benighted land;
And never will our hearts forget
The happy hours when we first met.
Oh, sweet it was your love to share,
To dwell within your "tent of prayer,”
To speak of Jesus, and to raise
The social voice of prayer and praise!
A few months more! The boist'rous main
Between us will extend again;
But still in spirit we may meet,
And commune at the mercy-seat.
Oh, then remember us in prayer,
That Christ may make our souls His care;
Give us the blessings of His love,
Until we meet in peace above!
A few years more! how sweet the thought!
Each fear dispelled, and safely brought
Life's sea of storms and troubles o'er
To heavenly Canaan's happy shore;
Arrayed in robes of spotless white,
Forever shall our souls unite
To golden harps, divinely strung,
In hymns on earth once feebly sung.
Farewell, dear friends! may He, who gave
His Son, from hell your soul to save,
With Him His richest mercies shed
In showers of blessings on your head.
Oh, may the Sun of Righteousness
Shine ever bright your path to bless;
Your light in death's dark valley be-
Your portion in eternity!
[Lines addressed to my beloved friends, Major and Mrs. O'B-, written in a copy of Pollok's Course of Time, given to them on their departure from India to England, A.D. 1830. Both are now with the Lord.]