WATER.
He hath compassed the waters with bounds, until the day and night come to an end.—Job, xxvi. 10.
Thus saith the Lord, when thou passest through the waters, I will be with thee; and through the rivers, they shall not overflow thee.—Isaiah, xliii. 1, 2.
Ho, every one that thirsteth, come ye to the waters.—Isaiah, lv. 1.
Ho! every one that thirsts, draw nigh,
(’Tis God invites a fallen race;)
Mercy and free salvation buy;
Buy wine, and milk, and gospel grace.
Come to the living waters, come!
Sinners, obey your Maker’s call;
Return, ye weary wanderers home,
And find my grace is free for all.
See from the Rock a fountain rise,
For you, in healing streams, it rolls;
Money ye need not bring, nor price,
Ye labouring, burden’d, sin-sick souls.
C. Wesley.
Come hither ye that thirst,
Come to the waters free,
With a blithesome bound and a joyful burst,
Like a bird in its liberty.
Drink at this holy spring,
That flows for ever bright,
Oh, hasten in faith! make wing, make wing,
’Tis a well of sweet delight.
This living water flows
Not heedlessly, nor vain;
Drink, it a fountain of life bestows,
Ye never can thirst again.
Man’s heart, that barren place,
Shall blossom like the rose,
Grow fertile in love, and abound in grace,
Wherever that water flows.
And every plant shall show
Clusters of goodly fruit,
While all who gaze, in delight may know,
What fruit each plant may bring,
Is his, and only his;
For He the lovely and constant spring
Of living water is.
W. Martin.
Come let me view the wonder! Let me look
On nature in her grandeur and her power;
Reading the fairer portions of her book,
I may have missed her in her solemn hour,
Searching fresh beauty in each wildling flower,
And melody in every woodland song;
I have not seen her when her features lower,
Or known the terrors that to God belong,
Not viewing, in his might, the terrible, the strong!
Come, let me look into the vast abyss,
See the great rush, the whirlwind and the storms;
Hear the “vast hell” where oceans “howl” and “hiss,”
And fell destruction loveliness deforms.
Where is the horror which so much alarms,
At which alike timid and strong turn back?
I hear no howls. I see no horrid forms;
Nor dream of nations or of nature’s wrack,
I see a mighty, but a lovely cataract.
No terrors sit upon its smiling brow,
There sunshine plays upon the waters clear;
And as it pours its mighty flood below,
Sunshine and glory make their dwelling there:
I wonder and admire, but cannot fear,
All is so lovely and so beautiful.
See! the blessed bow of many tints is here,
A seven-fold bow of promised safety full,
Spanning the glorious whole, each rising fear to lull.
Pour on for ever, thou mighty flood,
Thy stream of goodness thus. For ever flow,
Unchanging emblem of infinitude,
Nor deem thy bounty needs a course more slow,
Unmeasured fountains pour their wealth below,
Where diamond wells in deep concealment lie;
And constant streams that never ebb can know,
For ever flowing, bring their rich supply,
Fed by eternal streams—springs which can never dry.
W. F. Rock.