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ADAMS.

2 Our fathers ! — where are they,

With all they called their own?
Their joys and griefs, and hopes and cares,

And wealth and honor ? - gone !
3 God of our fathers ! hear,

Thou everlasting Friend !-
While we, as on life's utmost verge,

Our souls to thee commend.
4 Of all the pious dead

May we the footsteps trace,
Till with them, in the land of light,

We dwell before thy face. 561.

C. M.

Swiftness of Time.
1 HOW swift, alas! the moments fly!

How rush the years along!
Scarce here, yet gone already by, —

The burden of a song.
2 See childhood, youth, and manhood pass,

And age, with furrowed brow;
Time was, -- time shall be, — but, alas !

Where, where, in time, is now ?
3 Time is the measure but of change ;

No present hour is found ;
The past, the future, fill the range

Of time's unceasing round.
4 Then, pilgrim, let thy joys and fears

On time no longer lean;
But henceforth all thy hopes and fears

From earth's affections wean.
5 To God let grateful accents rise :

With truth, with virtue, live;
So all the bliss that time denies,

Eternity shall give.

LOGAN.

562.

L. M.
The Christian summoned to depart.
1 THE hour of my departure 's come;

1 hear the voice that calls me home :
At last, O Lord, let trouble cease,

And let thy servant die in peace.
2 The race appointed I have run ;

The combat 's o’er, the prize is won;
And now my witness is on high,

And now my record 's in the sky.
3 I leave the world without a tear,

Save for the friends I held so dear :
To heal their sorrows, Lord, descend,

And to the friendless prove a friend.
4 I come, I come ; at thy command,

I give my spirit to thy hand;
Stretch forth thine everlasting arms,

And shield me in the last alarms.
5 The hour of my departure 's come ;

I hear the voice that calls me home :
Now, O my God, let trouble cease ;

Now let thy servant die in peace. 563. C. M. HK. White.

Journeying through Death to Life. 1 THROUGH sorrow's night and danger's path,

Amid the deepening gloom,
We, soldiers of a Heavenly King,

Are marching to the tomb.
2 There, when the turmoil is no more,

And all our powers decay,
Our cold remains, in solitude,

Shall sleep the years away. 3 Our labors done, securely laid In this our last retreat,

Unheeded, o'er our silent dust

The storms of life shall beat. 4 Yet not thus lifeless, thus inane,

The vital spark shall lie :
For o'er life's wreck that spark shall rise,

To seek its kindred sky.
564.
L. M.

J. TAYLOR. True Length of Life. 1 LIKE shadows gliding o'er the plain,

Or clouds that roll successive on,
Man's busy generations pass;

And while we gaze, their forms are gone. 2 “ He lived, — he died”; behold the sum,

The abstract, of th' historian's page!
Alike, in God's all-seeing eye,

The infant's day, the patriarch's age. 3 O Father, in whose mighty hand

The boundless years and ages lie,
Teach us thy boon of life to prize,

And use the moments as they ily ; — 4 To crowd the narrow span of life

With wise designs and virtuous deeds :
So shall we wake from death's dark night,

To share the glory that succeeds. 565. C. H. M.

What is your Life ?
10, WHAT is life ? - 't is like a flower

That blossoms and is gone ;
It flourishes its little hour,

With all its beauty on :
Death comes, and, like a wintry day,

It cuts the lovely flower away.
2 0, what is life ? — 't is like the bow
That glistens in the sky :

J. TAYL

We love to see its colors glow ;

But, while we look, they die :
Life fails as soon : - to-day 't is here ;

To-morrow it may disappear.
3 Lord, what is life ? — if spent with thee,

In humble praise and prayer,
How long or short our life may be,

We feel no anxious care :
Though life depart, our joys shall last

When life and all its joys are past.
566.
C. M.

HEBER.
Man's Mortality.
1 BENEATH our feet and o'er our head

Is equal warning given ;
Beneath us lie the countless dead,

Above us is the heaven.
2 Their names are graven on the stone,

Their bones are in the clay ;
And ere another day is done,

Ourselves may be as they.
3 Death rides on every passing breeze ;

He lurks in every flower ;
Each season has its own disease,

Its peril every hour.
4 Our eyes have seen the rosy light

Of youth's soft cheek decay,
And fate descend in sudden night

On manhood's middle day ; -
5 Our eyes have seen the steps of age

Halt feebly towards the tomb ;-
And yet shall earth our hearts engage,

And dreams of days to come ?
6 Turn, mortal, turn ; thy danger know;
Where'er thy foot can tread,

The earth rings hollow from below,

And warns thee of her dead ! 567. L. M.

Watts.
Life.
1 LIFE is the time to serve the Lord, —

The time t’insure the great reward;
And while the lamp holds out to burn,

To thee the sinner may return.
2 Life is the hour that thou hast given

To fit us for the joys of heaven;
The day of grace, and mortals may

Secure the blessings of the day.
3 Then the great work we have to do,
Let us, with all our might, pursue ;
And wisely every hour employ,

Till faith and hope are lost in joy. 568. 8 & 4s. M.

Vanity of the World.
1 ALAS! how poor and little worth
Are all those glittering toys of earth

That lure us here !---
Dreams of a sleep that death must break :
Alas! before it bids us wake,

They disappear.
2 Where is the strength that spurned decay,
The step that rolled so light and gay,

The heart's blithe tone ?
The strength is gone, the step is slow,
And joy grows weariness and woe

When age comes on.
3 Our birth is but a starting-place ;

Life is the running of the race, . And death the goal :

ANONYMOUS.

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