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2. Make an unguarded youth

The object of thy care ;
Help me to choose the path of trath,

And fly from ev'ry spare. 3. My heart, to folly prone,

Inspire with love divine; Unite it to thyself alone,

And make me wholly thine. 4. O let thy word of grace

My warmest thoughts employ ;
Be this, through all my foll’wing days,

My treasure and my joy.
5. To what thy laws impart

whole will inclin'd;
O let them dwell within my heart,

And sanctify my mind.
6. May thy young servant learn,

By these to cleanse his way;

may I here the path 'discern
That leads to endless day.

HYMN 454. C. M.

Prayer of the aged.
MY God, my everlasting hope !

I live upon thy truth;
Thy hands have held my childhood up,

And strengthen’ıl all my youth. 2. My frame was fashion'd by thy pow'r,

And shows thy skill divine;
And from my mother's painful hour,

I've been entirely thine.
3. Still has my life new wonders seen,

In each revolving year:
Behold, my days that yet remain,

I trust them to thy care. 4. Cast me not off, when strength declines,

When hoary hairs arise :
And round me let thy glory shine,

Whene'er thy servant dies,

HYMN 455 C. M. 1. ETERNAL Sire, enthron’d on high!

Whom heav'nly hosts adore, Who yet to suppliant dust art nigh :

Thy presence I implore. 2. Wilt thou forsake my hoary hairs,

And leave my fainting heart ? Who shall sustain my sinking years,

If God, my strength, depart? 3. O guide me down the steep of age,

And keep my passions cool; Teach me to scan the sacred page,

And practise ev'ry rule.
9. Let me thy pow'r and truth proclaim

To the surviving age;
And leave a savour of thy name,

When I shall quit the stage.
5. That solemn day is hast’ning on;

My frame must soon decay. My friends, my youth's companions gone,

Can I expect to stay? 6. My God | 0 smooth the mortal hour;

On thee my hope depends. Support me with almighty pow'r,

While duşt to dust descends. 7. Then let my soul, O gracious God!

Ascend to realms of day; And in that sacred blest abode

Its endless anthems pay.


HYMN 456. P. M.
1. PRAISE to God, immortal praise

For the love that crowns our days;
Bounteous source of ev'ry joy!
Let thy praise our tongues employ.

2. All, that spring, with bounteous hand,

Scatters o'er the smiling land;
All, that lib’ral autumn pours

From her rich o'erflowing stores: 3. These to thee, our God! we owe,

Source whence all our blessings flow!
And for these our souls shall raise

Grateful vows and solemn praise. 4. Yet should rising whirlwinds tear

From its stem the rip’ning ear;
Should the fig-trees blasted shoot

Drop her green untimely fruit:
5. Should the vine put forth no more,

Nor the olive yield her store :
Though the sick’ning flocks should fall,

And the herbs desert the stall:
6. Should thine alter'd hand restrain

Vernal show'rs and latter rain,
Blast each op'ning bud of joy,

And the rising year destroy:
7. Yet to thee our souls shall raise

Grateful vows and solemn praise ;
And, when ev'ry blessing's flown,
Love thee-for thyself alone!

HYMN 457. S. M.
1. S various as the moon

Is man's estate below:
To his bright day of gladness soon

Succeeds a night of wo. 2. The night of wo resigns

Its darkness and its grief;
Again the morn of comfort shines,

And brings our souls relief. 3. Yet not from fickle chance

These varying scenes arise:
Our dark and brighter hours advance,

By laws supremely wise. 4. God measures out to all

Their lot of good and ill ;

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Nor this too great, nor that too small,

Ordain’d by heav'n's high will. 5. Hopeful and humble bear

Thy evil and thy good;
Nor by presumption, nor despair,
Weak mortal, be subdu'd.

HYMN 458. P. M. 1. PROVIDENCE, profusely kind,

Wherespe'er you turn your eyes, Bids you with a grateful mind

View a thousand blessings rise. 2. Thankful own what you enjoy :

But a changing world like this, Where a thousand fears annoy,

Cannot give you perfect bliss, 3. Perfect bliss resides above,

Far above yon azure sky;
Bliss, that merits all your love,

Merits ev'ry anxious sigh.
4. What like this has earth to give ?

O ye righteous ! in your breast
Let the admonition live,

Nor on earth desire to rest.
5. When your bosom heaves a sigh,

Or your eye emits a tear, let your wishes rise on high, Ardent rise to bliss sincere.

HYMN 459. s. M. 1. HOW gracious and how wise

Is our chastising God!
And O! how rich the blessings are,

That blossom from his rod! 2. He lifts it up on high,

With pity in his heart;
That ev'ry stroke his children feel

May grace and peace impart. 3. Instructed thus, they bow

And own his soy'reign sway;

They turn their erring footsteps back

To his forsaken way.
4. His cov'nant love they seek,

And seek the happy bands
That closer still engage their hearts,

To honour his commands. 5. Submissive, Lord ! we yield

To discipline divine,
And bless the pains that make us still,
More uniformly thine.

HYMN 460. L. M.
FATHER: 1 bļess thy gentle hand:

How kind was thy chastising rod, That forc'd my conscience to a stand,

And brought my wand'ring soul to God! 2. Foolish and vain I went astray,

Ere I had felt thy scourges, Lord ! I left my guide, and lost my way;

But now I love and keep thy word. 3. 'Tis good for me to wear the yoke,

For pride is apt to rise and swell;' 'Tis good to bear my Father's stroke,

That I might learn his statutes well. 4. The law, that issues from thy mouth,

Shall raise my cheerful pássions more Than all the treasures of the south,

Or western hills of golden ore. 5. Thy hands have made my mortal frame,

Thy spirit form’d my soul within : Teach me to know thy wondrous name,

And guard me safe from death and sin. 6. Then all, that love and fear the Lord,

At my salvation shall rejoice ;
For I have trusted in thy word,
And made thy grace my only choice.

HYMN 461. L. M. 1.

well our great Preserver knows, To weigh and to relieve our woes


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