How the brave sun doth peep up from beneath,
    Shows us his golden face, doth on us breathe;
    Yea, he doth compass us around with glories
    Whilst he ascends up to his highest stories,
    Where he his banner over us displays
    And gives us light to see our works and ways.

    Nor are we now, as at the peep of light,
    To question is it day or is it night;
    The night is gone, the shadow’s fled away,
    And now we are most certain that ’tis day.

    And thus it is when Jesus shows his face,
    And doth assure us of his love and grace.

This makes Christ precious, if I consider how he did deliver me:  it was, I, with his life, his blood; it cost him tears, groans, agony, separation from God; to do it, he endured his Father’s wrath, bare his Father’s curse, and died thousands of deaths at once.

2.  He did this while I was his enemy, without my desires, without my knowledge, without my deserts; he did it unawares to me.

3.  He did it freely, cheerfully, yea, he longed to die for me; yea, heaven would not hold him for the love he had to my salvation, which also he has effectually accomplished for me at Jerusalem.

Honorable Jesus! precious Jesus! loving Jesus!  Jonathan’s kindness captivated David, and made him precious in his eyes for ever.  “I am distressed for thee, my brother Jonathan,” said he; “very pleasant hast thou been to me; thy love to me was wonderful, passing the love of women.”  Why, what had Jonathan done?  Oh, he had delivered David from the wrath of Saul.  But how much more should He be precious to me, who hath saved me from death and hell—­who hath delivered me from the wrath of God?  “The love of Christ constraineth us.”  Nothing will so edge the spirit of a Christian as, “Thou wast slain, and hast redeemed us to God by thy blood.”  This makes the heavens themselves ring with joy and shouting.

The day, before the sun-rising.

    But all this while, where’s he whose golden rays
    Drive night away, and beautify our days? 
    Where’s he whose goodly face doth warm and heal,
    And show us what the darksome nights conceal? 
    Where’s he that thaws our ice, drives cold away? 
    Let’s have him, or we care not for the day. 
        Thus ’tis with those who are possessed of grace;
        There’s naught to them like the Redeemer’s face.

Oh thou loving one, Oh thou blessed one, thou descrvest to have me; thou hast bought me; thou deservest to have me all; thou hast paid for me ten thousand times more than I am worth!