Nor would I urge a speedier flight, Where thou determin'st mine abode, Hymn 125. C. M. Old Age. Isaiah xlvi. 4. 1 My flying years, time urges on ; What's mortal must decay; My friends-my youth's companions gone, Can I expect to stay? 2 Can I exemption plead, when death Can medicine then prolong my breath? 3 Oh! no-then smooth, O Lord, the hour; While dust to dust descends. 4 Then shall my soul, gracious God! With rapture haste to thine abode, 5 Through heav'n, howe'er remote the bound, Thy love I'll then proclaim; And join the choir of saints that sound Their great Redeemer's name. Hymn 126. C.M. Death of a Father. HAS death another trophy won? And is a father dead? Behold, a family bereav'd, And weeping for their head! 2 What sorrow swells the widow's breast! Gone is the friend, who shared her heart, Then sorrow moves a mother's heart, 4 Ye mourning friends, approach your God, The hand which wounds can also heal, 5 He bids the widow trust in him, 6 Let faith and hope assuage your grief, Hymn 127. L. M. On the Death of a Father. 1 THOUGH nature's voice you must obey, Think, while your swelling griefs o'erflow, That hand which takes your joys away, That sovereign hand can heal your wo. 2 And while your mournful thoughts deplore The father gone, remov'd the friend! With heart resign'd, his grace adore, On whom your nobler hopes depend. 3 Does he not bid his children rise, Through death's dark, shade, to realms of light? Yet when he calls them to the skies, He, when your comforts sink in dust, Hymn 128. L. M. Reanimation.—A Hymn for the Humane Society, 4 Thy will, ere nature's tutor❜d hand And all its countless fibres told. 5 As from the dust thy forming breath O let us suppliant at thy throne, Morning Song. 1 WHEN all the mercies, of my God, Why my cold heart art thou not lost, 3 To all my weak complaints and cries Ere yet my feeble thoughts had learnt. 4 Unnumber'd comforts on my soul Before my infant heart conceiv'd. Thine arm, unseen, convey'd me safe, 6 Through hidden dangers, toils, and deaths, It gently clear'd my way; And through the pleasing snares of vice, 7 Through ev'ry period of my life, 8 Through all eternity to thee But O eternity's too short Hymn 130. S. M. 1 2 2 BEHOLD the rising sun Pursues his shining way; And wide proclaims his Maker's praise, 4 Thus does thine arm support 5 6 But whence these favours, Lord, to me, O how shall I repay The bounties of my God? This feeble spirit pants beneath Blest Saviour, to thy cross By thee perfum'd, it shall ascend 1 Hymn 131. S. M. Evening Hymn. THE day is past and gone, |