The Church 's Desolation.

WELL may thy servants mourn, my God, The church's desolation; The state of Zion calls aloud For grief and lamentation: Once she was all alive to thee, And thousands were converted; But now a sad reverse we see — Her glory is departed. Her pastors love to live at ease; They covet wealth and honor; And while they seek such things as these, They bring reproach upon her. Such worthless objects they pursue, Warmly and undiverted; The church they lead, and ruin, too— Her glory is departed.

Her private members walk no more As Jesus Christ has taught them; Riches and fashion they adore— With these the world has bought them. The Christian name they still retain, Absurdly and false-hearted; And while they in the church remain, Her glory is departed.

And has religion left the church, Without a trace behind her? Where shall I go, where shall I search, That I once more may find her? Adieu! ye proud, ye light and gay! I'll seek the broken — hearted, Who weep when they of Zion say, Her glory is departed.

Some few like good Elijah, stand, While thousands have revolted; In earnest for the heavenly land, They never yet have halted. With such, religion doth remain, For they are not perverted; Oh, may they all through them regain The glory that's departed.