CCXXV. CHRIST's Invitation to thirsty Souls

THE Lord of Life exalted stands,
Aloud he cries, and spreads his Hands:
He calls ten thousand Sinners round,
And sends a Voice from ev'ry Wound.

"Attend, ye thirsty Souls, draw near,
"And satiate all your Wishes here:
"Behold the living Fountain flows
"In Streams as various as your Woes.

"An ample Pardon here I give,
"And bid the sentenc'd Rebel live,
Shew him my Father's smiling Face,
And lodge him in his dear Embrace.

I purge from Sin's detested Stain,
And make the Crimson white again,
Lead to celestial Joys refin'd,
And lasting as the deathless Mind.

Must I anew my Pity prove?
Witness the Words of melting Love,
The gushing Tear, the lab'ring Breath,
And all these Scars of bleeding Death".

Blest Saviour, I can doubt no more;
I hear, and wonder, and adore:
Panting I seek that Fountain-Head,
Whence Waters so divine proceed.

Clear Spring of Life, flow on, and roll
With growing Swell from Pole to Pole,
Till Flow'rs and Fruits of Paradise
Round all the winding Current rise.

Still near thy Stream may I be found,
Long as I tread this earthly Ground;
Chear with thy Wave Death's gloomy Shade,
Then thro' the Fields of Canaan spread.