CLXXXVIII. Relieving CHRIST in his poor Saints.

JESUS, my Lord, how rich thy Grace!
Thy Bounties how compleat!
How shall I count the matchless Sum?
How pay the mighty Debt?

High on a Throne of radiant Light
Dost Thou exalted shine;
What can my Poverty bestow,
When all the Worlds are Thine?

But thou hast Brethren here below,
The Partners of thy Grace,
And wilt confess their humble Names
Before thy Father's Face.

In them Thou may'st be cloath'd, and fed,
And visited, and chear'd,
And in their Accents of Distress
My Saviour's Voice is heard.

Thy Face with Rev'rence and with Love
I in thy Poor would see;
O let me rather beg my Bread,
Than hold it back from Thee.