SEC'TION XI.

A morning Hymn.
1. My God, who makes the sun to know
His
proper

hour to rise,
And to give light to all below,

Dóeş send him round the skies.*
2. When from the chămbers of the east

His morning race begins,
He never tires, nor stops to rest;

But round the world he shines. 3. So, like the sun, would I fulfil

The bus’ness of the day :
Begin my work betimes, and still

March on my heav'nly way.
4. Give me, O Lord, thy early grace,

Nor let my soul complain,
That the young morning of my days

Has all been spent in vain.

SEC'TION XII.

An evening Hymn 1. And now another day is gone,

I'll sing my Maker's praise :
My cóm'fórts ev'ry hour make known

His providence and grace.
2. But how my childhood runs to waste !

My sins, how great their sum !
Lord! give me pardon for the past,

And strength for days to come. 3. I lay iny body down to sleep;

Let àngels guard my head,
And through the hours of darkness keep

Their watch around my bed.
4. With chéērful heart I close my eyes,

Since God will not remove;
And in the morning let me rise,

Rejoicing in his love.

SEC'TION XIII.

The winter's day. 1. WHEN raging storms deform the air,

And clouds of snow descend;
And the wide landscape, bright and fair,

No deepen'd colours blend;
2. When bītỉng frost rides on the wind,

Bleak from the north and east,
And wealth is at its ease reclin’d,

Prepar'd to laugh and feast; 3. When the poor travöller treads the plain,

All dubious of his way,
And crawls with night increasing pain,

And dreads the parting day ; 4. When poverty in vile attire,

Shrinks from the bīting blást,
Or hovers o'er the pigmy fire,

And fears it will not lăst;
5. When the fond mother hugs her child

Still closer to her breast;
And the poor infant frost-beguild,

Scārce feels that it is prest;
6. Then let your bounteous hand extend

Its blessings to the poor;
Nor spurn the wretched, while they bend
All suppliant at your door.

SECTION XIV.

Compassion and forgiveness. 1. I HEAR the voice of wo;

A brother mortal mourns :
My eyes with tears, for tears o'erflows

My heart his sighs returns. 2. I hear the thirsty cry;

The famish'd beg for bread:
O let my spring its streams supply s

My hand its bounty shed.3. And shall not wrăth relent,

Touch'd by that hům'ble strain,
My brother crying, “I repent,

Nor will offer i ågain' !"

4. How else, on sprightly wing,

Can hope bear high my pray'r,
Up to thy throne, my God, my King,

To plead for pardon there?

SECTION XV.

The ignorance of man. 1. BEHOLD yon new-born infant griev'd

With hunger, thirst, and pain;
That asks to have the wants reliey'd,

It knows not to complain.
2. Aloud' the speechless suppliant cries,

And utters, as it can,
The woes that in its bò'şóm rise,

And speak its nature-man.
3. That infant, whose advăn'cing hour

Life's various sorrows try, (Sad proof of sin's transmissive pow'r !)

That infant, Lord, am I.
4. A childhood yet my thoughts confess,

Though long in years mature ;
Unknowing whence I feel distress,

And where, or what, its cure. 5. Author of good! to thee I turn:

Thy ever-wakeful eye
Ålore can all my wânts diş-çěrn';

Thy hand alone supply.
6. O let thy fear within me dwell

Thy love my footsteps guide:
That love shall all vain loves expel;

That fear, all fears beside.
7. And oh! by ěrrour's force subdu'd,

Since oft my stubborn will
Prepost'rous shuns the latent good,

And grăsps the specious ill;
8. Not to my wish, but to my want,

Do thou thy gifts apply:
Unask'd, what good thou knowest grant;

What ill, though ask'd, deny,

SEC'TION XVI.

The happy choice. 1. BESET with snares on ev'ry hand,

lu life's úncěr’tain path I stand:
Fà'ther Di-vine! diffuse thy light,

To guide my doubtful footsteps right. 2. Engage this frail, and wav'ring heart,

Wisely to choose the better part;
To scorn the trifles of a day,

For joys that never fade away.
3. Then let the wildest storms årīşe ;

Let tempests mingle earth and skies :
No fatal shipwreck shall I fear;

But all my tréaş'ures with me bear. 4. If thou, my Father! still art nigh,

Chēēr'fal I live, and peaceful die:
Secure, when mortal cóm'förts flee,
To and ten thousand worlds in thee.

SEC'TION XVIJ.

The fall of the leaf. 1. See the leaves áround' us falling,

Dry and wither'd to the ground;
Thus to thoughtless mortals calling,

In a sad and solemn sound:
2. 6 Sons of Ad'am, (once in E'den,

When, like us, he blighted fell,)
Hear the lecture* we are reading ;

'Tis, ălăs! the truth we tell.
3. “ Vir'gins, much, too much prēşü'ming

your boasted white and red; View us late in beauty blooming,

Number'd now among the dead. 4. “ Youths, though yet no losses grieve you,

Gay in health and many a grace ;
Let not cloudless skiest deceive you ;
Summer gives to autumn place.
* lčk'lshine.

On

5. “ Yearly in our course returning,

Messengers of shortest stay;
Thus we preach this truth concer'ning,

Heav'n and earth shall păss away.
6. “On the tree of life ētěr'nal,

Man, let all thy hopes be staid;
Which ălone, for ever věrnal,

Bears a leaf that shall not fade."

1.

2.

SEC'TION XVIII.

3.

Trust in the goodness of God.
1. Why, O my soul, why thus deprest,

And whence this anxious fear?
Let former favours fix thy trust,

And check the rising tear.
2. When darkness and when sorrows rose,

And press'd on every side,
Did not the Lord sustain thy steps,

And was not God thy guide ?*
3. Affliction is a stormy deep,

Where wave resounds to wave :
Though o'er my head the billows roll,

I know the Lord can saye.
4. Perhăps' before the morning dawns,

He'll reinstate my peace ;
For he who băde the tempest roar,

Can bid the tempest cease.
5. In the dark watches of the night,

I'll count his měr'cies f’er:
I'll praise him for ten thousand păst,

And hům'bly sue for more.
6. Then, O my soul, why thus deprest,

And whence this anxicus fear?
Let former favours fix thy trust,

And check the rising tear.
7. Here will I rest, and build my hopes,

Nor murmur at his rod;
He's more than all the world to me,
My health, my life, my God.

gyide.