2

3

We lay our garments by,
Upon our beds to rest;

So death will soon disrobe us all
Of what we here possess.

Lord, keep us safe this night,
Secure from all our fears;
May angels guard us while we.sleep,
Till morning light appears.

4 And when we early rise,

3

And view th' unwearied sun,
May we set out to win the prize,
And after glory run.

And when our days are past,
And we from time remove;
O may we in thy bosom rest,
The bosom of thy love.

Hymn 132. L. M.

The Voice of Creation. Psalm xix.

1 THE spacious firmament on high,
With all the blue ætherial sky;
The spangled heav'ns, a shining frame,
Their great original proclaim.

2 Th' unwearied sun, from day to day,
Does his Creator's pow'r display;
And publishes to ev'ry land
The work of an almighty hand.

3 Soon as the ev'ning shades prevail,
The moon takes up the wond'rous tale,
And nightly, to the list'ning earth,
Repeats the story of her birth:

4 While all the stars that round her burn,
And all the planets in their turn,
Confirm the tidings as they roll,
And spread the truth from pole to pole.

What though, in solemn silence, all,
Move round the dark, terrestrial ball;
What though no real voice nor sound
Amid their radiant orbs be found-
6 In reason's ear they all rejoice,
And utter forth a glorious voice,
For ever singing as they shine,
"The hand that made us is divine."

Evening Song. Psalm iv. 8.

1 GLORY to thee, my God, this night,
For all the blessings of the light!
Keep me, O keep me, king of kings,
Beneath thine own almighty wings.
2 Forgive me, Lord, for thy dear Son,
The ills that I this day have done;
That with the world, myself, and thee,
I, ere I sleep, at peace may be.
3 [Teach me to live, that I may dread,
The grave as little as my bed;
Teach me to die, that so I may
Triumphant rise at the last day.]
4 O may my soul on thee repose;
And may sweet sleep mine eyelids close;
Sleep that shall me more vig'rous make,
To serve my God when I awake.

5 If in the night I sleepless lie,

My soul with heav'nly thoughts supply;
Let no ill dreams disturb my rest-
Nor pow'rs of darkness me molest.
Praise God from whom all blessings flow,
Praise him all creatures here below;

Praise him above, ye heav'nly host,

Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost.

Christ our Example.

1 AND is the gospel peace and love?
Such let our conversation be;
The serpent blended with the dove,
Wisdom and meek simplicity.

2 Whene'er the angry passions rise,
And tempt our thoughts or tongues to strife,
To Jesus let us lift our eyes,
Bright pattern of the Christian life.
3 O how benevolent and kind!
How mild, how ready to forgive!
Be this the temper of our mind,
And these the rules by which we live.
4 To do his heav'nly Father's will,
Was his employment and delight;
Humility and holy zeal

Shone through his life divinely bright.
5 Dispensing good where'er he came,
The labours of his life were love;
Then, if we bear the Saviour's name,
By his example let us move.

6 But, ah, how blind, how weak we are!
How frail, how apt to turn aside!
Lord, we depend upon thy care,
We ask thy spirit for our guide.
7 Thy fair example may we trace,
To teach us what we ought to be ;
Make us by thy transforming grace,
O Saviour, daily more like thee.

Hymn 135. C. M.

On the Death of a Believer,

1 In vain my fancy strives to paint, The moment after death;

The glories that surround the saints
When yielding up their breath.

2 One gentle sigh their fetters breaks,
We scarce can say, "they 're gone!"
Before the willing spirit takes

Her mansion near the throne.

3 Faith strives, but all its efforts fail,
To trace her in her flight;
No eye can pierce within the vail,
Which hides that world of light.
4 Thus much (and this is all) we know,
They are completely bless'd;
Have done with sin, and care, and wo,
And with their Saviour rest.

5 Their faith, and patience, love, and zeal,
Should make their mem'ry dear;
And, Lord, do thou the prayers fulfil,
They offer'd for us here!

6 While they have gain'd, we losers are,
We miss them day by day;
But thou canst every breach repair,
And wipe our tears away.

Hymn 136. C. M.

Funeral of a Young Person.

1 WHEN blooming youth is snatch'd away,
By death's resistless hand,
Our hearts the mournful tribute pay,
Which pity must demand.

2 While pity prompts the rising sigh,
Oh! may this truth imprest

With awful pow'r "I too must die!"
Sink deep in ev'ry breast.

3 Let this vain world engage no more:
Behold the gaping tomb!

1

It bids us seize the present hour,
To-morrow death will come.
4 The voice of this alarming scene
May ev'ry heart obey:

Nor be the heav'nly warning vain,
Which calls to watch and pray.

5 Oh! let us fly, to Jesus fly,

Whose pow'rful arm can save;
Then shall our hopes ascend on high,
And triumph o'er the grave.

6 Great God! thy sov'reign grace impart,
With cleansing, healing power;
This only can prepare the heart
For death's surprising hour.

Hymn 137. C. M.

Prayer for Youth.

1 BESTOW, O Lord, upon our youth
The gift of saving grace;

And let the seed of sacred truth
Fall in a fruitful place.

2 Grace is a plant, where'er it grows,
Of pure and heav'nly root;
But fairest in the youngest shows,
And yields the sweetest fruit.

3 Ye careless ones, O, hear betimes
The voice of heav'nly love!

Your youth is stain'd with many crimes,
But mercy reigns above.

4 True, you are young, but there's a stone
Within your youthful breast;

Or half the crimes which you have done,
Would rob you of your rest.

For you the public prayer is made,
O join the public prayer!

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