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MORNING HYMN.-Bp. Kenn. AWAKE, my soul, and with the sun Thy daily stage of duty run; Shake off dulĩ sloth, and joyful rise To pay thy morning sacrifice. Thy precious time mis-spent redeem; Each present day thy last esteem: Improve thy talent with due care, For the great day thyself prepare. In conversation be sincere, Keep conscience as the noon-tide clear; Think how th' all-seeing, God thy ways And all thy secret thoughts surveys. Wake, and lift up thyself, my heart, And with the angels bear thy part, Who all night long unwearied sing Glory to the Eternal King. I wake, I wake, ye heavenly choir ! May your devotion me inspire; That I, like you, my age may spend, Like you may on my God attend ! May 1, like you, in God delight, Have all day long my God in sight; Perform, like you, my Maker's will;

I never more do ill!

! may


Glory to Thee, who safe hast kept;
And hast refresh'd me, whilst I slept;
Grant, LORD, when I from death shall wake,
I may of endless life partake.
LORD! I my vows to Thee renew;
Disperse my sins, as morning dew;
Guard my first spring of thought and will,
And with Thyself my spirit fill.
Direct, control, suggest this day,
All I design, or do, or say,
That all my powers, with all their might,
To Thy sole glory may'unite.
Praise God, from whom all blessings flow,
Praise Him, all creatures here below;
Praise Him above, ye heav'nly host,
Praise FATHER, SON, and Holy GHOST.

Glory to Thee, my God, this night,
For all the blessings of the light;
Keep me, o keep me, King of kings!
Under thine own Almighty wings.
Forgive me, Lord, for thy dear Son,
The ills that I this day have done ;
That with the world, myself, and Thee,
I, ere I sleep, at peace may be.
Teach me to live, that I may dread

grave as little as my bed ; Teach me to die, that so I 'may Rise joyful at the judgment day. 0! may my soul on Thee repose,

And may sweet sleep mine eye-lids elose; Sleep, that may me more vig'rous make To serve my GOD, when I awake.

When in the night I sleepless lie,
My soul with heav'nly thoughts supply;
Let no ill dreams disturb ,my rest,

of darkness me molest.
May guardian angels, while I sleep,
Close to my bed their vigils keep;
Their love angelical instil,
Stop every avenue of ill!
May they celestial joys rehearse,
And thought to thought with me converse ;
Or, in my stead, all the night long,
Sing to my Gon a grateful song!
Praise God, from whom all blessings flow,
Praise Him all creatures here below;
Praise Him above, ye heav'nly host,
Praise FATHER, Son, and HOLY GHOST.

MIDNIGHT HYMN.-Bp. Kenn. MY GOD! now I from sleep awake, The sole possession of me take; From midnight terrors me secure, And guard my heart from thoughts impure. Bless’d angels! while we silent lie, You hallelujahs sing on high: You joyful hymn the Ever-blest Before the throne, and never rest. I with your choir celestial join In off'ring up a hymn divine ; With you in heav'n I hope to dwell, And bid the night and world farewell. O! when shall I, in endless day, For ever chase dark sleep away, And hymns with the supernal choir Incessant sing, and never tire !

Bless'd JESU! Thou, on heav'n intent,
Whole nights hast in devotion spent;
But I, frail creature, soon am tir'd,
And all my zeal is soon expir'd.
Shine on me, LORD, new life impart,
Fresh ardours kindle in my heart;
One ray of Thy all-quick’ning light
Dispels the sloth and clouds of night.
Lord! lest the Tempter me surprise,
Watch over Thy own Sacrifice;
All loose, all idle thoughts cast out,
And make my very dreams devout.
Praise God, from whom all blessings flow,
Praise Him all creatures here below;
Praise Him above, ye heav'nly host,
Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost.

O GREAT and glorious God above,
Fountain of Light, and Source of Love;
With raised hands and bended knee
An infant lifts her prayer to Thee,
O merciful and gracious LORD!
Teach me to understand thy word;
Teach me in childhood's early hour
To love Thy Name, to fear Thy Power:
To know that my Redeemer gave
His precious blood my soul to save;
Oh! may my soul but grateful prove,
For that amazing act of love!
When adverse storms obscure my sky,
Oh! let me feel that thou art nigh;
Or if prosperity be mine,
That all which I possess is thine.

How glorious is our heav'nly King,

Who reigns above the sky!
How shall a child presume to sing

His dreadful Majesty ?
How great His pow'r is, none can tell,

Nor think how large His grace;
Not men below, nor saints that dwell

On high before His face.
Not angels that stand round the LORD

Can search His secret will :
But they perform His heav'nly word,

And sing His praises still.
Then let me join this holy train,

And my first off’rings bring;
Th' eternal God will not disdain

To hear an infant sing.
My heart resolves, my tongue obeys,

And angels shall rejoice
To hear their mighty Maker's praise

Sound from a feeble voice.

PRAISE FOR MERCIES.-Dr. Watts, Whene’er I take my walks abroad,

How many poor I see;
What shall I render to my God,

For all His gifts to me?
Not more than others I deserve,

Yet God has given me more ;
For I have food, while others starve,

Or beg from door to door.
How many children, in the street,

Half naked I behold;
While I am cloth'd from head to feet,
And cover'd from the cold !

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