. . .Lest I that sovereign grace refuse. Oh! draw me with thy cords of love; Thy will I'll joyfully obey. Till I ascend to dwell above, In realms of everlasting day. London, Published by R. Miller, Old Fish Street, Doctors Commons. No. 3. SOLILOQUY. O thou allpowerful, holy, just, and wise Creator and preserver of the world! Look down on me, a poor dejected worm, Part of thy work; my form thy hand bestow'd, My soul, my being, and my health, thy gifts! Desert me not, nor leave me to myself Forlorn, to wander through life's dreary waste, Unskilful where to tread; but let thy light Conduct me through each puzzling labyrinth, And thwarting stream, that happ'ly I may gain The blissful coast! where sorrow never comes, Nor pain assaults.--Oh! let thy holy grace Sit regnant in my breast. . . Read More