William Cowper

My song shall bless the Lord of all,
My praise shall climb to His abode;
Thee,
Saviour, by that name I call,

When Hagar found the bottle spent And wept o'er Ishmael,
A message from the Lord was sent To guide her to a well
Should not Elijah's cake and cruse Convince us at this day,
A gracious God will not refuse Provisions by the way

"Me too, perchance, in future days,
The sculptured stone shall show,
With Paphian myrtle or with
Parnassian on my brow

Heal us,
Emmanuel
here we are,
Waiting to feel Thy touch:

Too many,
Lord, abuse Thy grace In this licentious day,
And while they boast they see Thy face,
They turn their own away

There is a fountain fill'd with blood,
Drawn from Emmanuel's veins;
And sinners, plunged beneath that flood,
Lose all their guilty stains

Jealous, and with love o'erflowing,
God demands a fervent heart;
Grace and bounty still bestowing,
Calls us to a grateful part

Between Nose and Eyes a strange contest arose,
The spectacles set them unhappily wrong;
The point in dispute was, as all the world knows,
To which the said spectacles ought to belong

The swallows in their torpid state Compose their useless wing,
And bees in hives as idly wait The call of early spring
The keenest frost that binds the stream, The wildest wind that blows,
Are neither felt nor fear'd by them, Secure...

Lord, who hast suffer'd all for me,
My peace and pardon to procure,
The lighter cross I bear for Thee,
Help me with patience to endure

When the British warrior queen, Bleeding from the Roman rods, Sought, with an indignant mien, Counsel of her country's gods, Sage beneath a spreading oak Sat the Druid, hoary chief; Every burning word he spoke Full of rage, and full of grief
...

My God, till I received Thy stroke,
How like a beast was I
So unaccustom'd to the yoke,
So backward to comply