For the New Year.

Great God! we sing that mighty hand,
By which supported still we stand :
Our Opening Years thy mercy shew;
That mercy crowns them as they flow.

Our helper God! we bless thy name;
The same thy pow'r, thy grace the same:
The tokens of thy friendly care
Open, and crown, and close the Year..

We 'midst ten thousand dangers stand,
Supported by thy guardian hand;
And see, when we survey our ways,
Ten thousand monuments of praise.

By day, by night, at home, abroad,
Still are we guarded by our God;
By his incessant bounty fed,
By his unerring counsel led.

With grateful hearts the past we own ;
The future, all to us unknown,

To Thee commit in humble pray'r,

And banish ev'ry anxious care.

For the New Year.

See! Another Year is gone!

Quickly have the seasons past, This we enter now upon,

May to many prove their last. Mercy hitherto has spar'd,

But have mercies been improv'd? Let us ask, are we prepar'd,

Should we be this year remov'd ? While with ceaseless course the sun

Hasted through the former year,

Many souls their race have

run,

Never more to meet us here.

Thanks for mercies past receive,

Pardon of our sins renew;
Teach us henceforth how to live,
With eternity in view.

Thus, from guilt and sin set free,
By the knowledge of thy grace,
Welcome then the call will be
To depart, and see thy face.
To thy saints, while here below,
With new years new mercies come;
But the happiest year they know,

Is their last, which leads them home.

For the New Year.

Lo! time, by moments, steals away
First the short hour, and then the day;
How small the constant loss appears,
But yet it soon amounts to years.

Behold, Another Year is flown,
And now it is no more our own,
If it produc'd or promis'd good,
Than the years before the flood.

In scenes exalted or deprest,

Thou art our joy, and Thou our rest: Thus far thine arm hath led us on, Thus far we'll make thy mercy known.

Thy goodness all our hopes shall raise, Ador'd through all our changing days; And, while we tread this desert land, New blessings shall new songs demand.

Our grateful soul, on life's last shore, Shall raise one sacred pillar more; Then bear, in his bright courts above, Inscriptions of immortal love.

For the Sunday before Easter.

Heart rending sight! the Savior bleeds!
The Prince of Peace his life lays down!
This love all stretch of thought exceeds,
Its measures never can be known.

Our guilt o'erwhelm'd Him like a flood,
And justice smote Him on the tree;
O, see that all-atoning blood,

'Twas shed, my soul, 'twas shed for thee,

O, never let me glory more

Save in my blest Redeemer's cross; The things, that charm'd me most before, Compar'd with this appear but dross!

Yes, when mine interest I can read
In Him, who died upon the tree,
Then I to all the world am dead,
And all the world is dead to me.

Were the whole realm of nature mine,
That were an off'ring far too small;
Love so amazing, so divine,

Demands my soul, my life, mine all

For the Sunday before Easter.

Behold the Savior of mankind,

Nail'd to the shameful tree;

How vast the love that Him inclin'd

To bleed and die for thee!

Hark, how He groans! while nature shakes,
And earth's strong pillars bend!
The temple's veil in sunder breaks,
The solid marbles rend!

'Tis done! the precious ransom's paid,
Receive my soul, He cries!

See, where He bows his sacred head,
He bows his head, and dies!

But soon He'll break death's envious chain,
And in full glory shine

O Lamb of God! was ever pain,

Was ever love like Thine!