Nor would I urge a speedier flight,
To my celestial home.

Where thou determin'st mine abode,
There would I choose to be;
For in thy presence death is life,
And earth is heav'n with thee.

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
Projects his awful dart?

Can medicine then prolong my breath?
Or virtue shield my heart?

3 Oh! no-then smooth, O Lord, the hour;
On thee my hope depends;
Support me with almighty pow'r,

While dust to dust descends.

4 Then shall my soul, gracious God!
(While angels guard the way,)

With rapture haste to thine abode,
To dwell in endless day.

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!
How moving are her tears!

Gone is the friend, who shared her heart,
The friend, who sooth'd her cares.
3 The children mourn a father's death,
And feel a mother's pain;

Then sorrow moves a mother's heart,
She sees, and weeps again.

4 Ye mourning friends, approach your God,
His grace can give relief;

The hand which wounds can also heal,
And soften ev'ry grief.

5 He bids the widow trust in him,
And he's the orphan's friend;
He'll hear the cry of broken souls,
And peace and comfort send.

6 Let faith and hope assuage your grief,
And be your hearts resign'd;
For all who wait upon the Lord,
Shall consolation find.

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,
Shall fond survivors mourn their flight 3
4 His word, (here let your soul rely)
Immortal consolation gives;
Your heav'nly Father cannot die,
Jesus, the friend, forever lives.
5 O be that dearest friend your trust,
On his almighty arm recline;

He, when your comforts sink in dust,
Can give you blessings more divine.

Hymn 128. L. M.

Reanimation.—A Hymn for the Humane Society,
1 WHO, from the gloomy shades of night,
When the last tear of hope is shed,
Can bid the soul return to light,
And break the slumber of the dead!
2 No human skill that heart can warm,
Which the cold blast of nature froze ;
Recal to life the perish'd form;
The secret of the grave disclose.
3 But thou, our saving God, we know,
Canst arm the mortal hand with power
To bid the stagnant pulses flow,
The animating heart restore.

4 Thy will, ere nature's tutor❜d hand
Could with young life these limbs unfold;
Did the imprison'd brain expand,

And all its countless fibres told.

5 As from the dust thy forming breath
Could the unconscious being raise;
So can the silent voice of death
Wake at thy call in songs of praise.
6 Since twice to die is ours alone,
And twice the birth of life to see;

O let us suppliant at thy throne,
Devote our second life to thee.

Morning Song.

1 WHEN all the mercies, of my God,
My rising soul surveys;

Why my cold heart art thou not lost,
In wonder, love and praise?
2 Thy providence my life sustain❜d,
And all my wants redrest,
Whilst in the silent womb I lay,
And hung upon the breast.

3 To all my weak complaints and cries
Thy mercy lent an ear,

Ere yet my feeble thoughts had learnt.
To form themselves in prayer.

4 Unnumber'd comforts on my soul
Thy tender care bestow'd,

Before my infant heart conceiv'd.
From whom those comforts flow'd.
5 When in the slippery paths of youth
With heedless steps I ran,
1

Thine arm, unseen, convey'd me safe,
And led me up to man.

6 Through hidden dangers, toils, and deaths, It gently clear'd my way;

And through the pleasing snares of vice,
More to be fear'd than they.

7 Through ev'ry period of my life,
Thy goodness I'll pursue;
And after death, in distant worlds,
The pleasing theme renew.

8 Through all eternity to thee
A grateful song I'll raise :

But O eternity's too short
To utter all thy praise.

Hymn 130.
Morning Song.

S. M.

1

2

2

BEHOLD the rising sun

Pursues his shining way;

And wide proclaims his Maker's praise,
With ev'ry bright'ning ray.
Thus would my rising soul
Its heav'nly parent sing;
And to its great original
The humble tribute bring.
Serene I laid me down
Beneath his guardian care;
I slept, and I awoke, and found
My kind preserver near!

4 Thus does thine arm support
This weak, defenceless frame :

5

6

But whence these favours, Lord, to me,
So worthless as I am?

O how shall I repay

The bounties of my God?

This feeble spirit pants beneath
The pleasing, painful load.

Blest Saviour, to thy cross
I bring my sacrifice;

By thee perfum'd, it shall ascend
With fragrance to the skies.

1

Hymn 131. S. M.

Evening Hymn.

THE day is past and gone,
The ev'ning shades appear,
O may we all remember well
The night of death draws near.