EVENING PRAISE. P. M.

W. F. SHERWIN.

PARACLETE. 78, 5.

U. C. BURNAP.

Rest for ev-er-more.

WHEN the day of toil is done,
When the race of life is run,
Father, grant thy wearied one
Rest for evermore.

2 When the strife of sin is stilled,
When the foe within is killed,
Be thy gracious word fulfilled,-
"Peace for evermore."

3 When the darkness melts away At the breaking of the day, Bid us hail the cheering ray,—

Light for evermore.

4 When the heart by sorrow tried Feels at length its throbs subside, Bring us, where all tears are dried,

Joy for evermore.

GOD of pity, God of grace:
When we humbly seek thy face,
Bend from heaven, thy dwelling-place:

Hear, forgive, and save.

2 When we in thy temple meet, Spread our wants before thy feet, Pleading at the mercy-seat:

Look from heaven and save.

3 When thy love our hearts shall fill, And we long to do thy will, Turning to thy holy hill:

Lord, accept and save.

4 Should we wander from thy fold, And our love to thee grow cold, With a pitying eye behold:

Lord, forgive and save.

5 Should the hand of sorrow press, Earthly care and want distress, May our souls thy peace possess ;

Jesus, hear and save.

6 And whate'er our cry may be,
When we lift our hearts to thee,
From our burden set us free:
Hear, forgive, and save.

Mrs. E. F. Morris.

THE radiant morn hath passed away,
And spent too soon her golden store;
The shadows of departing day

Creep on once more.

2 Our life is but a fading dawn;
Its glorious noon how quickly past!
Lead us, O Christ, when all is gone,
Safe home at last.

3 Oh, by thy soul-inspiring grace,

Uplift our hearts to realms on high; Help us to look to that bright place Beyond the sky;

4 Where light and life and joy and peace In undivided empire reign,

And thronging angels never cease

Their deathless strain ;

5 Where saints are clothed in spotless white, And evening shadows never fall;

Where thou, eternal Light of light,
Art Lord of all!

3 O Master, point thou out the way,
Nor suffer thou our steps to stray;
Then in that path that leads to day
We follow thee.

4 Thou hast passed on before our face;
Thy footsteps on the way we trace;
Oh, keep us, aid us by thy grace:
We follow thee!

5 Whom have we in the heaven above,
Whom on this earth, save thee, to love?
Still in thy light we onward move;
We follow thee!

HAIL, sacred day of earthly rest,
From toil secure and trouble free;
Hail, quiet spirit, bringing peace
And joy to me.

2 A holy stillness, breathing calm
And peace on all the world around,
Uplifts my soul, O God, to thee,
Where rest is found.

3 No sound of jarring strife is heard
As now the weekly labors cease;
No voice, but those that sweetly sing
Sweet songs of peace.

4 Accept, O God, my hymn of praise
That thou this restful day hast given,
Sweet foretaste of that endless day
Of rest in heaven.

Godfrey Thring, alt.

SWEET is the light of Sabbath eve,
And soft the sunbeams lingering there;
For these blest hours the world I leave,
Wafted on wings of faith and prayer.

2 The time, how lovely and how still!

Peace shines and smiles on all below; The plain, the stream, the wood, the hill, All fair with evening's setting glow.

3 Season of rest! the tranquil soul

Feels sweet the calm, and melts to love, And while these sacred moments roll, Faith sees the smiling heaven above. 4 Nor will our days of toil be long; Our pilgrimage will soon be trod; And we shall join the ceaseless song, The endless Sabbath of our God.

James Edmeston.

110 "Gate of Heaven."
How SWEET to leave the world awhile,
And seek the presence of our Lord!
Dear Saviour! on thy people smile,

And come, according to thy word.

2 From busy scenes we now retreat, That we may here converse with thee: Ah, Lord! behold us at thy feet;

Let this the "gate of heaven" be.

3 "Chief of ten thousand!" now appear,
That we by faith may see thy face:
Oh, speak, that we thy voice may hear,
And let thy presence fill this place.

Thomas Kelly.

111

Giber of Best.

FAR from my thoughts, vain world, begone!
Let my religious hours alone:

Fain would mine eyes my Saviour see:
I wait a visit, Lord, from thee.

2 My heart grows warm with holy fire,
And kindles with a pure desire :
Come, my dear Jesus! from above,
And feed my soul with heavenly love.
3 Blest Saviour! what delicious fare,
How sweet thine entertainments are!
Never did angels taste, above,
Redeeming grace and dying love.
4 Hail, great Immanuel, all-divine!
In thee thy Father's glories shine:
Thou brightest, sweetest, fairest One
That eyes have seen, or angels known!

Isaac Watts.