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NOTHER day is numbered with the past,
Another night is given us for rest,
Father, my spirit at thy feet I cast,
O! gather it unto thy loving breast.

Look on its failures, efforts, and mistakes,
Look on its inward ftubborn roots of fin,
See how the law that it accepts, it breaks,
Lord! to thy secret presence take it in!

Nightly, Thou sendeft reft to all the earth,
Sendeft a time for filence and returning,

O, Father! teach me all the holy worth

Of the still hours when thy clear stars are burning.

Thou giveft me reft that with the day's beginning
I may rise ftrong and fresh for the new day,
So, purged and refted from its frequent sinning,
May my soul rise prepared for its strait way.

Blefs those that love me, those that love me not,
Strengthen the feeble and uplift the grieving,
Send to thy children, in whatever lot,

Riches, and peace, and ftrength in true believing.

So to thy arms my body I commit,

My weary body to thine arms outspread: Prepare me to accomplish what is fit,

And peace and purenefs watch befide my bed.

UNTO the glory of thy Holy Name,

Eternal God! whom I both love and fear,
Here bear I witness that I never came

Before thy throne and found thee loth to hear,
But, ever ready with an open ear.

And though sometimes thou seems't thy face to hide
As one that hath his love withdrawn from me,

'Tis that my faith may to the full be tried,

And I thereby may only better see

How weak I am when not upheld by Thee.

Thomas Ellwood. 1669.


OW good a God have we! who for our sake,


OW a God the burning lake,

Did change the order of creation :

At first He made

Man like Himself in his own image; now
In the more bleffed reparation,

The heavens bow,

Eternity took the measure of a span;
And said,

"Let us make ourselves like man;

And not from man the woman take,
But from the woman, man.”

Hallelujah, we adore

His name, whose goodness hath no store.

Jeremy Taylor. 1667.




ALM on the listening ear of night Come Heaven's melodious ftrains, Where wild Judea ftretches far Her silver-mantled plains!

Celestial choirs, from courts above,

Shed sacred glories there;

And angels, with their sparkling lyres,

Make mufic on the air.

The answering hills of Palestine
Send back the glad reply;

And greet, from all their holy heights,
The dayspring from on high.

On the blue depths of Galilee
There comes a holier calm,
And Sharon waves, in solemn praise,
Her filent groves of palm.

"Glory to God!" the sounding skies
Loud with their anthems ring;

Peace to the earth, good-will to men,

From heaven's Eternal King!

Light on thy hills, Jerusalem!

The Saviour now is born!

And bright on Bethlehem's joyous plains
Breaks the first Christmas morn.

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LOOMY night embraced the place

Where the noble infant lay:

The babe look'd up, and show'd His face;
In spite of darkness it was day.

It was Thy day, sweet, and did rise,
Not from the East, but from thy eyes.

We saw thee in thy balmy neft,

Young dawn of our eternal day;
We saw thine eyes break from the East,
And chase the trembling fhades away:
We saw thee, and we bleft the night,
We saw thee by thine own sweet light.

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