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HYMN 575. C. M.
How gay the rural scene !
The meads a livelier green.
And blossoms on the spray,
How sweet the vernal day!
'Tis nature's cheerful voice ; Soft music bails the lovely spring,
And woods and fields rejoice. 4 How kind the influence of the skies !
These showers, with blessings fraught, Bid verdure, beauty, fragrance rise,
And fix the rgving thought.
5 O let my wondering heart confess,
With gratitude and love,
The garden, field, and grove.
Beyond expression kiud,
To bless the craving migd.
Can make each virtue live,
Lise, beauty, fragrance give. 8 O God of nature, God of graco.
Thy heavenly gifts impart ;
Spring blooming in my heart !
9 Inspir'd to praise I then shall join
Glad nature's cheerful song: And love and gratitude divine
Attube my joyful tongue.
HYMN 576. L. M.
The Resurrection. Matt. xxviii. 24.
The moon was bright in silver sheen,
And quench'd in darkoess all the scene. % The centinels around the tomb,
In which the murder'd Jesus lay,
With anxious eyes for coming day,
Began with inward roars to rock,
Were bursting with impetuous shock.
To apgry Heav’n in fear-form'd pray’r 1
A mighty spirit in the air.
His garments glitter'd white as snow;
Descending tow'rds the earth below. 6 They sunk, in terror overwhelm'd,
Struck to the quaking ground with dread :
Lay pale and senseless as the dead. 7 Soon to the earth the seraph came,
Soon was the rocky door thrown wide,
Re-animates the Crucified !
Forth walks the Conqueror girt with might;
The prostrate seraph licks the ground,
Eclips'd in his Creator's light,
And passi ve scorn of soldiers rude:
He walks, too glorious to be view'd. 10 Bebold yon tyrant! stript and bare,
Jo his owo fetters bound, he lies ;
Is troubled with his wailing cries.
(This Resurrection seals the doom) When thou, with all thy pow'r shalt die, And all thy captives leave the tomb. J, M. G.
HYMN 577. C. M.
VHO' faint and sick, and woro away
With poverty and woe,
'Mid thorny paths below;
My confidence and guide!
Whate'er tbat will decide.
Thou never wilt forsake;
That reed thou wilt pot break,
Support me on my way ;
My widow'd footsteps stray !
Thy staff shall yet avail :
That staff shall never fail.
HYMN 578. C. M.
The Condescension of God. Kings viii. 27. ETERNAL pon's, almighty God,
Who can approach thy throne ? Accessless light is thy abode,
To angel-eyes voknown, 2 Before tbe radiance of thine eye
The beav'ns no longer shive, And all the glories of the sky
Are but the shade of tbine.
3. Great God, and wilt thou condescend
To cast a look below,
These seats of sin and woe?
To bring thy glories nearAmazing and transporting grace
To dwell with mortals here ! 5 How strange! bow awful is thy love !
With trembling we adore : Not all the exalted minds above
Its wonders can explore.
Resound immortal lays,
To rise and mean thy praise. MRS. STEELE.
TO THE FIRST LINES OF THE HYMNS.
ABIDE with us, the evening shades