133 HENRY KIRKE WHITE S POEMS. 



V. 



While yet we sojourn here below, 

 Pollutions still our hearts o'erflow ; 

 Fairn, abject, mean, a sentenced race, 

 We deeply need a hiding place. 



VI. 



Yet, courage ! — days and years will glide, 

 And we shall lay these clods aside ; 

 Shall be baptized in Jordan's flood, 

 And washed in Jesus' cleansing blood. 



Then pure, immortal, sinless, freed, 

 We through the Lamb shall be decreed ; 

 Shall meet the Father face to face, 

 And need no more a hiding place. 



[The last stanza of this Hymn was added extemporaneously by 

 the Author, one summer evening, when he was with a few friends 

 on the Trent, aud singing it, as he was used to do on such occa« 

 sions ] 



A HYMN FOR FAMILY WORSHIP. 



Lord, another day is flown, 



And we, a lonely band, 

 Are met once more before thy throne, 



To bless thy fostering hand. 



And wilt thou bend a listening ear. 



To praises low as ours ? 

 Thou wilt ! for thou dost love to hear 



The song which meekness pours. 



