THE HARP OF PITCAIRN. 297 
HYMN. 
1. 
I WILL not encumber my verse 
With metaphor, figure, or trope ; 
Nor will I the praises rehearse 
Of aught in Creation's wide scope ; 
My Bible shall furnish the theme, 
My subject will angels applaud, 
My soul shall rejoice in his name, 
My Brother, my Saviour, my God. 
2. 
My Brother ! How grateful that sound 
When sorrow preys deep on the heart:; 
When malice and discord abound, 
What balm -can a brother impart ! 
A tender unchangeable friend, 
On whose bosom 'tis sweet to recline, 
Evej prompt to assist or defend ; 
Such a Eriend, such a Brother is mine. 
3. 
My Saviour ! Thrice glorious name ! 
But who of the children of men 
The wondrous appointment may claim ? 
Or who can the title sustain ? 
Immanuel, Jesus, alone 
Doth fulness and fitness combine, 
He only for sin can atone, 
And He is my Saviour, e'en mine. 
4. 
My God ! What a myst'ry is this ; 
Jehovah appears as a man ! 
Truth, wisdom, grace, mercy, and peace, 
Devised the inscrutable plan ; 
He came to redeem us from hell, 
He died to effect his design, 
He reigns where the glorified dwell, 
And he is my God, ever mine, 
u 
