THE LATTER PART OF HABBAKUK, CHAPTER III. BY THE SAME. THO' in Judea's mead the verdant blade Nipt by ungenial frost full sudden fade; Tho' the ripe fig, pride of the garden gay, Touch'd by the sun's too fervid beam decay; Tho' fairer vines the raging whirlwind blast, And olives useless on the heap are cast; Tho' struck by Death the bleating firstlings fall, Vacant the fold, untenanted the stall; Yet still to Thee, Jehovah! Power supreme! My guide, my only hope, and constant theme! I lisp the feeble strain, and bow the knee, And own incessant Strength belongs to Thee! O let thy Love with rapture fill my breast, And lead thro' life's untrodden wilds — to Rest.