Of excess there is no danger,
Though it fills, it never cloys :
On a dying Christ I feed,
He is meat and drink indeed !
3 When my faith is faint and sickly,
Or when Satan wounds my mind,
Cordials to revive me quickly,
Healing med cines, here I find :
To the promises I flee,
Each affords a remedy.
4 In the hour of dark temptation,
Satan cannot make me yield ;
For the word of consolation
Is to me a mighty shield :
While the Scripture truths are sure ,
From his malice I m secure.
5 Vain his threats to overcome me
When I take the Spirit s sword ;
Then with ease I drive him from me,
Satan trembles at the word :
Tis a sword for conquest made,
Keen the edge and strong the blade.
6 Shall I envy then the miser,
Doating on his golden store ?
Sure I am, or should be, wiser :
I am rich, tis he is poor :
Jesus gives me, in his word,
Food and med cine, shield and sword.
III. PROVIDENCES.
64.
On the Commencement of Hostilities in America.
1 THE gath ring clouds, with aspect dark,
A rising storm presage ;
Oh ! to be hid within the ark,
And shelter d from its rage !
