Bunhill (Bonehill) Fields burial ground

Here to reflect on the grace of Jesus in the gospel so evident on the life and lyric of 

Isaac Watts

Time, like an ever-rolling stream,
  Bears all its sons away;
They fly forgotten, as a dream
  Dies at the opening day.

WHY WAS I MADE TO HEAR THY VOICE AND ENTER WHILE THERE’S ROOM
WHEN THOUSANDS MAKE A WRETCHED CHOICE AND RATHER STARVE THAN COME? 

‘TWAS THE SAME LOVE THAT SPREAD THE FEAST THAT SWEETLY DREW US IN; 
ELSE WE HAD STILL REFUSED TO TASTE, AND PERISHED IN OUR SIN. 

PITY THE NATIONS, O OUR GOD, CONSTRAIN THE EARTH TO COME; 
SEND THY VICTORIOUS WORD ABROAD, AND BRING THE STRANGERS HOME. 

WE LONG TO SEE THY CHURCHES FULL, THAT ALL THE CHOSEN RACE 
MAY, WITH ONE VOICE AND HEART AND SOUL, SING THY REDEEMING GRACE.

Joseph Hart

Lo! th’ incarnate God, ascended,
Pleads the merit of His blood;
Venture on Him, venture wholly;
Let no other trust intrude:
None but Jesus, none but Jesus,
Can do helpless sinners good.

John Bunyan 

Who would true valour see,
Let him come hither;
One here will constant be,
Come wind, come weather
There’s no discouragement
Shall make him once relent
His first avowed intent
To be a pilgrim.

Whoso beset him round
With dismal stories
Do but themselves confound;
His strength the more is.
No lion can him fright,
He’ll with a giant fight,
He will have a right
To be a pilgrim.

Hobgoblin nor foul fiend
Can daunt his spirit,
He knows he at the end
Shall life inherit.
Then fancies fly away,
He’ll fear not what men say,
He’ll labor night and day
To be a pilgrim.

Daniel Defoe Robinson Crusoe, 1719

John Owen, The John Calvin of England