AN ADDRESS TO MISS PHILLIS WHEATLEY by Jupiter Hammon.

O, come, you pious youth! Adore The wisdom of thy god,
In bringing thee from distant shore, To learn His holy word,
Thou mightst been left behind, Amidst a dark abode;
God’s tender mercy still combined, Thou hast the holy word.

Fair Wisdom’s ways are paths of peace, And they that walk therein,
Shall reap the joys that never cease, And Christ shall be their King.

God’s tender mercy brought thee here; Tossed o’er the raging main;
In Christian faith thou hast a share, Worth all the gold of Spain

While thousand tossed by the sea, And others settled down,
God’s tender mercy set them free From dangers that come down

That thou a pattern still might be, To youth of Boston town,
The blessed Jesus set thee free From every sinful wound.

The blessed Jesus, who came down, Unveiled his sacred face,
To cleanse the soul of every wound, And give repenting grace.

That we poor sinner may obtain The pardon of our sin,
Dear blessed Jesus, now constrain, And bring us flocking in.

Come you, Phillis now aspire, And seek thy living God,
So step by step thou mayst go higher, Till perfect in the word.

While thousands moved to distant shore, And others left behind,
The blessed Jesus still adore; Implant this in thy mind.

Thou hast left the heathen shore; Through mercy of the lord,
Among the heathen live no more; Come magnify thy God.

I pray the living God may be, The shepherd of thy soul;
His tender mercies still are free, His mysteries to unfold.

Thou, Phillis, when thou hunger hast, Or pantest for thy God,
Jesus Christ is thy relief, Thou hast the holy word.

The bounteous mercies of the Lord Are hid beyond the sky,
And holy souls that have His word Shall taste them when they die.

These bounteous mercies are from God, The merits of His Son;
The humble soul that loves His word He chooses for his own.

Come, dear Phillis, be advised to drink Samaria’s flood;
There nothing that shall suffice but Christ’s redeeming blood.

While thousand muse with earthly toys, and range about the street,
Dear Phillis, seek for heaven’s joy’s, where we do hope to meet.

When God shall send his summons down, and number saints together,
Blessed angel’s chant (triumphant sound), come live with me forever.

The humble soul shall fly to God, and leave the things of time,
Start forth as ’twere at the first word, to taste things more devine.

Behold! The soul shall waft away, whene’er we come to die,
And leave its cottage made of clay, in twinkling of an eye.

Now glory be to the Most High, united praises given,
By all on earth, incessantly, and most all the host of heaven……

Category: Healing,