TheGospelMagazine. 533 Jesus meets every case, and supplies every need. The gracious King reveals Himself also in the galleries of Worship. In His own complex Person the Lord Jesus is the true Temple, the meeting place of God and man, because He is the God-man. Not only so, the Lord Jesus is likewise Himself the true object of the believer's worship, because He is God, and because the Father can only be approached in Him. Out of Christ, our God is a consuming fire. In Gospel galleries the dear Redeemer reveals Himself with pierced hands outstretched to welcome all who come unto Him labouring and heavy laden, needing and seeking the rest He alone can give. The gallery of Communion is the banqueting house, where the Beloved admits loving souls into fellowship with Himself, and bends His willing ear to listen to their" tales of woe," while His voice speaks peace to their troubled hearts. Here He satisfies longing souls with assurances of His favour, and grants them token of His love. Often the King is held in the galleries of the Ordinances of His house, and comes down in the preaching of the Word "like rain upon the mown grass, and as showers that water the earth" (Ps. lxxii. 6), in reviving, renewing, and refreshing grace. In the Lord's Supper He presents His own flesh and blood as food for faith to humble partakers; when they richly enjoy the King's" feast of fat things." Thus," the King is held in the galleries." Bath. E. C. ODE ON THE LAST DAY. (Written during a storm at sea by Richard Kempenfelt, Rear-Admiral of the. Blue, who went down in the " Royal George" when she foundered at Sp~thead on Thursday, 29th of August, 1782.) HARK! 'tis the trump of God Sounds through the realms abroad, " Time is no more! " Horrors invest the skies, Graves burst, and myriads rise; Nature in agonies Yields up her store. Changed in a moment's space Lo ! all the affrighted race Shriek and despair: Now they attempt to fly Dread immortality, And eye their misery • Dreadfullynear.
. 534 TheGospelMagazine. Quick reels the bursting earth, Rocked by a storm of wrath, Hurled from her sphere; Heart-rending thunders roll, Demons tormented howl, Great God! support my soul Yielding to fear. 0, my Redeemer, come! And through the frightful gloom Brighten the way. How would our souls arise, Soar through the flaming skies, Join the solemnities Of the great day! See! see! the Incarnate God Swiftly emits abroad Glories benign! Lo ! 10 ! He comes, He's here; Angels and saints appear, Fled is my every fear, Jesus is mine ! High~on a flaming throne Rides the eternal Son, Sovereign august ! Worlds from His presence fly, Shrink at His majesty; Stars, dashed along the s1."y Awfully burst. Thousands of thousands wait Round the judicial seat, Glorified there. Prostrate the elders fall Winged is my raptured soul Nigh to the Judge of all; Lo! I draw near. 0, my approving God, Washed in Thy precious blood, Bold I advance; Fearless we wing along, Join the triumphant throng, Shout an ecstatic song Through the expanse! """"'-'--'--":2c.. ~___'--'"-~ _