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ISAAC.
61

Up the mount! One standeth near thee,
And thy sorrows more endear thee;
Journey on with "Jesus only."

"Wait not: thy warm breath may mar it,
Loving bonds but bind and bar it
From a higher, holier soaring;
Now upon God's altar lay it:
Canst thou trust Him? Will He slay it?
He may prove thee by restoring.

Love, His love, doth mark thy going,
With compassion overflowing;
Hark! He whispers, "I am with thee,
I upheld thy first faint struggle;
Child, I will reward thee double,
And thy treasure back will give thee."

Lay it down! Beyond the river
Thou shalt praise anew the Giver,
Through a life of endless glory
Trace the path by which He brought thee,
Sing the melodies He taught thee,
Tell to angel-host thy story.

Faint thy whispered love is spoken;
Ah, thy words sound cold and broken
Unto hearts less fond and fervent.