"THE HIND OF THE MORNING."
Ps. 22.

Robert Hawker
(1753-1827)


" The hind of the morning."–Ps. xxii. in the title.

The dying patriarch Jacob, under the influence of the prophetic spirit, pointed to the seed of Naphtali as a hind let loose. But it is the church which points to Jesus as the hind of the morning; for he is, indeed, the loving hind, and the pleasant roe. It is sweet and profitable to observe in what a variety of methods the Holy Ghost hath been pleased to give sketches of Jesus. My soul, look at Jesus for thy present meditation as the hind of the morning. Was he not, from the very morning of eternity, marked under this lovely character? Did not the church speak of him, and desire his appearance, under this same character, when she begged of him, that until the shadows of Jewish ordinances were passed away, and the day of gospel light should break in upon her, that her beloved would be like a young hart, or the roe, upon the mountains of Bether? And was not Jesus, indeed, when he did appear, truly as the hind which the dogs that compassed him about, and the assembly of the wicked inclosed? Did he not say, in those unequalled moments of suffering," Save me from the lion's mouth, for thou hast heard me from the horns of the unicorn?" Yes, precious Jesus, thou art, indeed, the hind of the morning! In the morning of our salvation, thou camest over the hills and mountains of our sinful nature, with the swiftness of the hind, and the loveliness and gentleness of the roe, to expose thyself to the serpent, and the whole host of foes, for the deliverance of thy people. And, having trod upon the lion, and the adder, and the young lion, and the dragon, trampled under thy feet by thy death, thou "didst overcome death, and him that had the power of death, that is, the devil; and hast delivered them, who, through fear of death, were all their life-time subject to bondage." And now, precious Lord! thou art, as the hind slain, the food of the souls of thy redeemed by faith, until faith itself is done away in sight, and hope swallowed up in absolute fruition. Oh let the language of my heart daily, hourly, correspond to the church of old; and, during the shadows of ordinances, and all the dark clouds of unbelief and temptations with which I am here exercised, let me still, by faith, behold thee as the hind of the morning fleeing swiftly to my assistance, hearing and answering my prayers, leaping over all the mountains of distance which sin and unworthiness would throw up between thee and my soul, opposing all my enemies, and beating them under my feet that would keep me from thee; until that day, that glorious everlasting day which will have no night, shall break in upon my soul, and thou wilt then appear, to my unceasing, uninterrupted joy, the hind, indeed, of the morning. "Make haste, my beloved, and be thou like unto a roe, or to a young hart, upon the mountains of spices."

From the POOR MAN'S MORNING AND EVENING PORTIONS.

may4a


Robert Hawker



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