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Summer and winter know their time,

His harvest crowns the spring.
s Well pleas'd the toiling swains behold

The waving yellow crop:
With joy they bear the sheaves away,

And sow again in hope.
Thus teach me, gracious God, to sow

The seeds of righteousness:
Smile on my soul, and with thy beams

The rip’ning harvest bless.
5 Then, in the last great harvest, I

Shall reap a glorious crop: The harvest shall by far exceed What I have sown in hope.

C. M. 604.

Threutening Drought.
1
THE spring, great God, at thy command,

Leads forth the smiling year;
Gay verdure, foliage, blooms and flowers

'Io adorn her reign, appear.
2 But soon canst thou in righteous wrath

Blast all the promis'd joy, And elements await thy nod

To bless or to destroy
3 The sun, thy minister of love,

That from the naked ground
Calls forth the hidden seeds to birth,

And spreads their beauties round; 4 At the dread order of his God,

Now darts destructive fires; [drought, Hills, plains, and vales, are parched withi

And blooming life expires.
5 Like burnish'd brass, the heaven around

In angry terror burns,
While the earth lies a joyless waste,
And into iron turns,

6 Pity us, Lord, in our distress,

Nor with our land contend; Bid the avenging skics relent, And showers of mercy send!

AUTUMN.

L. M. 605.

Autumn. Jer. viii. 20. 1 GREAT God, as seasons disappear,

And changes make the rolling year; As time, with rapid pinions flies,

May ev'ry season make us wise.
2 Long has thy favour crown’d our days,

And summer shed again its rays;
No deadly cloud our sky has veild,

No blasting winds our path assail'd. 3 Our harvest months have o'er us rollid,

And fillid our fields with waving gold;
Our tables spread, our garners stor'd!

Where are our hearts to praise the Lord? $ The solemn harvest comes apace,

The closing day of life and grace:
Time of decision, awful hour!

Around it let no iempesis low’r!
5 Prepare us, Lord, by grace divine,

Like stars in heaven to rise and shine;
Then shall our happy souls above,
Reap the full harvest of thy love!

WISTER,

C. M. 606.

Winter. Job xxxviii. 29, 30. 1 STERN winter throws his icy chains:

Encircling nature round;
How blcak, how comfortless the plains,

Late with gay verdure crown'd!
% The sun withdraws his vital beams,
And lighị and warmth depart;

ענת

And drooping, lifeless nature seems

An emblem of heart.
3. My heart, when mental winter reigns,

In night's dark mantle clad;
Confind in cold, inactive chains,

How desolate and sad!
Return, O blissful sun, and bring

The soul-reviving ray;
This mentai winter shall be spring,

This darkness cheerful day. 5 O happy state, divine abode,

Where spring eternal reigns;
And perfect day, the smile of God,

Fills all the heavenly plains. 6 Great source of light, thy beams display,

My drooping joys restore:
And guide me to the seats of day,

Where winter chills no more.

NEW YEAR.

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607. (409.) L. M.
GREAT God! we sing that mighty hand,

By which supportedi still we stand;
The op’ning year thy mercy shows:

Let mercy, crown it, till it close.
2 By day, at night, at home, abroad,

Still we are guarded by our God;
By his incessant bounty fed,

By his unerring counsel led.
* With grateful hearts the past we owa;

'The future, all to us unknown, We to thy guardian care commit,

And, peaceful, leave before thy feet. + In scenes exalted or depressid, Be thou our joy, and thou our rest;

416

GOD.

Thy goodness all our hopes shall raise,

Adord through all our changing days. 5 When death shall interrupt our songs,

And seal in silence niortal tongues;
Our helper, God, in whom we trust,

In better worlds our souls shall boast. 608.

L. M. (410.) Dependence on God. of our lives! thy constant care With blessings crowns each op'ning years These lives, so frail, dost thou prolong,

And wake anew our annual song. 2 How many precious souls are fled

To the dark regions of the dead,
Since, from this day, the changing sun

Through his last yearly course has run! 3 We yet survive: but who can say,

Or through the year, or month, or day,
I shall retain my vital breath,

Thus far at least in league with death? 4 That breath is thine, eternal God!

"Tis thine to fix the soul's abode; We hold our lives from thee alone,

On earth, or in the world unknown. 5 To thee we all our pow'rs resign;

Make us and own us still as thine:
Then shall we smile, secure from fear,

Though death should blast the rising year. 6 Thy children, eager to be gone,

Bid time's impetuous tide roll on,
And land them on that blooming shore
Where years and death are known no more,

L. M. 609. The barren Fig-tree. Luke xiii. 6—9. 1 GoDof my life, to thee belong The thankful heart, the grateful songs

Touch'd by thy love, each tuneful chord Resounds the goodness of the Lord. l'hou hast preserv'd my fleeting breath, And chas'd the gloomy shades of death; The venom'd arrows vainly fly,

When God our great Deliverer's nigh. 3 Yet why, dear Lord, this tender care!

Why does thy hand so kindly rear
A useless cumberer of the ground,

On which no pleasant fruits are found! 4 Still may the barren fig-tree stand!

And, cultivated by thy hand,
Verdure, and bloom, and fruit afford,

Meet tribute to its bounteous Lord.
5 So shall thy praise employ my breath

Through life, and in thic arms of death
My soul the pleasant theme prolong,
Then rise to aid th' angelic song.

P. M. 610. New Year's Day. Luke xiii. 6th I THE Lord of earth and sky,

The God of ages praise!
Who reigns enthron’d on high,

Ancient of endless days;
Who lengthens out our trial here,

And spares us yet another year. 2 Bairen and wither'd trees,

We cumber'l long the ground:
No fruit of holiness

On our dead souls was found;
Yet doth he us in mercy spare,

Another, and another year. 3 When justice gave the word

To cut the fig-tree down,
The pity of our Lord,
Cried, “ Let it still alone.”'

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