On David's Psalms

My God! since first thy love this heart did touch, It saith, I cannot love my God too much. It looketh up, and panteth for that grace, Which may exalt it, and unveil thy face. Darkness and distance are its grievous chains; Sad doubts and fears do feed its griping pains. It sighs, and wonders thou canst be so strange; Where thou hast freely made so great a change, Long it hath search’d in hope to find the art, To raise and warm a dull and heavy heart; And now I find it practised by one, That now is praising thee before thy throne. Here are the sacred words: here ’s David’s lyre. But where ’s the quick ‘ning celestial fire? I know the eye of Heav’n is on my heart: God looks my soul should bear the chiefest part.

It’s winged faith, and flaming love within,

That must the pleasant melody begin:.

The holy Spirit must tune and touch each string,

Else smoothest verse will be a harsh dull thing;

Display thy love; shoot down thy vital rays!

Teach this cold heart the works of love and praise!

O then, what life and joy these psalms will bring,

When it ’s thy spirit, and my soul that sing!

And though low strains with stops, are here my best

Yet perfect love and praise shall be my rest.