Tho' friends forsake, and death remove
The dearest objects of our love;
Yet there remains a heavenly rest

For those whom Christ the Lord has blest.

7 And shall the world's deceitful smile
Us of this glorious hope beguile ?
Shall we earth's empty pleasures prize,
And heav'n seem little in our eyes?
It must not be-vain dreams away,
We look for joys which ne'er decay.

ANON.

LOVE TO PARENTS.

1 To honour those who gave us birth,
To cheer their age, to feel their worth,
Is God's command to human kind,
And own'd by every grateful mind.

2 Trace then the tender scenes of old,
And all our infant days unfold;
Yield back to sight the mother's breast
Watchful to lull her child to rest.

3 Survey her toil, her anxious care,
To form the lisping lips to pray'r;
To win for God the yielding soul,
And all its ardent thoughts control.

4 Nor hold from mem'ry's glad review,
The fears which all the father knew;

The joy that mark'd his thankful gaze
As virtue crown'd maturer days.

5 When press'd by sickness, pain, or grief, How anxious they to give relief;

Our dearest wish they held their own; Till ours return'd, their peace was flown. 6 God of our life, each parent guard, And death's sad hour, O! long retard; Be theirs each joy that gilds the past, And heaven our mutual home at last.

NOEL.

CONFESSION.

1 Lord, when we bend before thy throne, And our confessions pour,

Teach us to feel the sins we own,
And shun what we deplore.

2 Our contrite spirits pitying see,
And penitence impart;
And let a healing ray from thee
Beam hope upon the heart.

3 When our responsive tongues essay
Their grateful songs to raise ;
Grant that our souls may join the lay
And rise to thee in praise.

4 When we disclose our wants in prayer, May we our wills resign;

And not a thought our bosom share,
Which is not wholly thine.

5 Let faith each meek petition fill,
And waft it to the skies:

And teach our hearts 'tis goodness still,
That grants it or denies.

ANON,

BLESSED BE THY NAME FOR EVER.

1 Blessed be thy name for ever,
Thou of life the guard and giver;
Thou canst guard thy creatures sleeping;
Heal the heart long broke with weeping.
God of stillness and of motion,
Of the desert and the ocean,
Of the mountain, rock, and river,
Blessed be thy name for ever.

2 Thou who slumberest not, nor sleepest, Blest are they thou kindly keepest; God of evening's parting ray,

Of midnight's gloom, and dawning day,
That rises from the azure sea,
Like breathings of eternity;
God of life! who fadest never,
Blessed be thy name for ever!

HOGG.

THE BIRTH OF CHRIST.

1 Brightest and best of the sons of the morning, Dawn on our darkness and lend us thine aid!

Star of the east the horizon adorning,

Guide where our infant Redeemer is laid!

2 Cold on his cradle the dew drops are shining,

Low lies his bed with the beasts of the stall! Angels adore him in slumber reclining, Maker and Monarch, and Saviour of all! 3 Say shall we yield him, in costly devotion, Odours of Edom, and off'rings divine; Gems of the mountain, and pearls of the

ocean,

Myrrh from the forest, and gold from the mine?

4 Vainly we offer each ample oblation; Vainly with gold would his favour secure ; Richer by far is the heart's adoration, Dearer to God are the pray'rs of the poor! 5 Brightest and best of the sons of the morning,

Dawn on our darkness, and lend us thine aid!

Star of the east the horizon adorning, Guide where our infant Redeemer is laid!

HEBER.

PURSUIT AFTER HAPPINESS.

1 No longer I follow a sound, No longer a dream I pursue;

B

O happiness, not to be found!
Unattainable treasure, adieu!

2 I have sought thee in splendour and dress,
In the regions of pleasure and taste;
I have sought thee, and seemed to possess,
But have proved thee a vision at last.
3 An humble ambition and hope

The voice of true wisdom inspires; 'Tis sufficient, if peace be the scope, And the summit of all our desires. 4 Peace may be the lot of the mind That seeks it in meekness and love, But rapture and bliss are confined To the glorified spirits above.

COWPER.

DEATH.

1 That awful hour will soon appear,
Swift on the wings of time it flies,
When all that pains or pleases here
Will vanish from my closing eyes.

2 Death calls my friends, my neighbours hence,

And none resist the fatal dart;

Continual warnings strike my sense,
And shall they fail to strike my heart?

3 Think, O my soul! how much depends
On the short period of a day;