433. L. M. Watts.

Self-knowledge, and Abstraction from Earth.

1My God, permit me not to be

A stranger to myself and thee:

Amidst a thousand thoughts I rove,

Forgetful of my highest love.

2Why should my passions mix with earth,

And thus debase my heavenly birth?

Why should I cleave to things below,

And let my God, my Saviour go?

3Call me away from flesh and sense;

Thy sovereign word can draw me thence:

I would obey the voice divine,

And all inferior joys resign.

4Be earth, with all her scenes, withdrawn,

Let noise and vanity be gone:

In secret silence of the mind,

My heaven, and there my God, I find.

Rising towards Heaven.

1Rise, my soul, and stretch thy wings,

Thy better portion trace;

Rise from transitory things,

Towards heaven, thy native place:

Sun, and moon, and stars decay,

Time shall soon this earth remove;

Rise, my soul, and haste away

To seats prepared above.

2Rivers to the ocean run,

Nor stay in all their course;

Fire ascending seeks the sun,--

Both speed them to their source:

So a soul that's born of God

Pants to view his glorious face,

Upward tends to his abode,

To rest in his embrace.