Bless thy word to young and old;
Fill our hearts with filial love;
And, when life's short tale is told,
May we dwell with thee above.

THINE eyes in me the sheep behold, Whose feet have wandered from the fold; That, guideless, helpless, strives in vain To find its safe retreat again;

2

Now listens, if, perchance, its ear

'The Shepherd's well known voice may hear; Now, as the tempests round it blow,

In plaintive accents vents its woe.

3

Great Ruler of this earthly ball!
Do thou my erring steps recall;
O seek thou him who thee has sought,
Nor turns from thy decrees his thoughts

LIFE is a span, a flecting hour;
How soon the vapour flies!
Man is a tender, transient flower,
That even in blooming dies.

2

Death spreads like winter's frozen arms, And beauty smiles no more ;

Ah! where are now those rising charms Which pleas'd our eyes before?

3

The once loved form, now cold and dead,
Each mournful thought employs ;
And nature weeps her comforts fled,
And withered all her joys.

4

But wait the interposing gloom,

And lo stern winter flies,

And, drest in beauty's fairest bloom,

The flowery tribes arise.

5

Hope looks beyond the bounds of time,
When what we now deplore

Shall rise in full, immortal prime,
And bloom to fade no more.

6

Then cease, fond nature! cease thy tears;
Religion points on high;
There everlasting spring appears,
And joys which cannot die.

134. C. M.

1

OUR days are like the flowers that fade,
And life's descending light
Grows fainter, till the lengthening shade
Sinks in the gloom of night.

2

But thou forever art the same,

O our eternal God!

Ages to come shall know thy name,

And spread thy praise abroad.

BEHOLD the path that mortals tread,
Down to the regions of the dead!
Nor will the fleeting moments stay,
Nor can we measure back our way.

2

Our kindred and our friends are gone;
'Know, O my soul, this doom thy own;
Feeble as theirs my mortal frame,
The same my way-my house the same.

3

From vital air, from cheerful light,
To the cold grave's perpetual night,
From scenes of duty, means of grace,
Must I to God's tribunal pass.

4.

Awake. my soul! thy way prepare,
And lose in this each mortal care ;
With steady feet that path be trod,
Which, through the grave, conducts to God.

136. C. M.

1

WITH eye impartial, Heaven's high King
Surveys each human tribe;
No earthly pomp his eyes can charm,
No wealth his favour bribe.

2

The rich and poor, for happiness,
His hand alike did frame;
All souls are his, and him may all
Their common parent claim.

3

Ye sons of men of high degree,
Your great Superior own;
Praise him for all his gifts, and pay
Your homage at his throne.

4

Trust in the Lord, ye humble poor,

fear;

And banish every
The God you serve will ne'er forsake
The man of heart sincere.