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Great God, are in thy hand;
And go at thy command.
If thou shouldst take thein all away,
Yet let me not repine :
They were entirely thine.
Let me not drop a murm'ring word,
Though earthly joys be gone, But seek enduring happiness
In thee, and thee alone.
What is the world, and all things here ?
"Tis but a bitter sweet : When I attempt a rose to pluck,
A wounding thorn I meet.
Here perfect bliss can ne'er be found :
The honey's mix'd with gall : Midst changing scenes and dying friends, Be thou my all in all,
“My times are in Thy hand."-Ps. xxxi. IS.
He that formid me in the womb,
times shall ever be Order'd by His wise decree.
Times of sickness, times of health ;
Times, the tempter's pow'r to prove; Times, to taste a SAVIOUR's love : All must come, and last, and end, As shall please my heav'nly Friend.
Plagues and deaths around me fly;
Acts xvii. 26. GREAT Sov'reign Ruler of the skies, We at Thy sacred footstool bow, While solemn scenes attract our eyes. Who shall demand-What doest thou ?
Great God, our habitation's bound
The time and means are known to Thee,
Be still, my thoughts, nor vainly rove, But own your Maker's sov reign sway; Whose will, the God of truth and love, All beings, worlds, and things, obey.
Glory to God, our Cov'nant God,
Numbers, xxi. 10. How blest the righteous are
When they resign their breath! No wonder Balaam wish'd to share
In such a happy death.
“ Oh! let me die,” said he,
“ The death the righteous do; When life is ended, let me be
Found with the faithful few."
The force of truth, how great!
When enemies confess, None but the righteous, whom they hate,
A solid hope possess.
But Balaam's wish was vain,
His heart was insincere,
And sought a portion here.
He seem'd the Lord to know,
And to offend him loath;
For none can serve them both.
Jer. xvii. 5, 8.
Beneath a burning sky,
And only grows to die.
Such is the sinner's awful case,
Who makes the world his trust, And dares his confidence to place
In vanity and dust.
A secret curse destroys his root,
And dries his moisture up;
Then dies without a hope.
But happy he whose hopes depend
Upon the Lord alone;
Can ne'er be overthrown.
Though gourds should wither, cisterns break,
And creature-comforts die;
Or stop his sure supply.