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My portion here's a crumb at best; But there, the Lamb's eternal feast; My praise is now a smother'd fire ; But then, I'll sing and never tire.
Now dusky shadows cloud my day; But then, the shades will flee away ; My Lord will break the dimming glass, And show His glory face to face.
My numerous foes now beat me down ; But then, I'll wear the victor's crown ; Yet all the revenues I'll bring To Zion's everlasting King !
Ralph Erskine. i
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
(i With everlasting pain!