&quot;Cold is the clime, the winds are bleak, 



And wastes of trackless snow, 

 Ye friends of our incarnate God ! 

 Obscure the paths ye go. 



&quot;But hearts more cold, and lusts more fierce, 



And wider wastes of sin, 

 Ye preachers of redeeming love! 

 Obscure the soul within. 



&quot;Yet go: and though both poles combina, 



To freeze the sinner s soul, 

 The sinner s soul shall yield to grace, 

 For grace can melt the pole. 



&quot;Then blow ye winds, and roll ye waves, 



Your task assigned perform: 

 The God of grace is nature s God, 

 And rides upon the storm. 



&quot;Nature and Providence obey 

 The dictates of his grace; 

 Go ! for each drop subserves his caus e 

 Each atom has its place.&quot; 



REV. JOHN WEST, 1824. 



