The hollow winds are calling,
"Come, pilgrim, come away
The day, in night declining,
Says I must, too, decline;
The year its bloom resigning,
Its lot foreshadows mine.

2 The light my path surrounding,
The loves to which I cling,
The hopes within me bounding,
The joys that round me wing,
All, all, like stars at even,

Just gleam and shoot away,
Pass on before to heaven,
And chide at my delay.

3 The friends gone there before me
Are calling from on high,
And happy angels o'er me

Tempt sweetly to the sky :
"Why wait," they say, "and wither,
'Mid scenes of death and sin?

O, rise to glory, hither,

735.

And find true life begin."

1 TO praise the bounteous Lord of all,
Wake all our thankful powers;

He calls, and at his call come forth
The smiling harvest hours.

2 His covenant with the earth he keeps ;
His goodness we will sing;

Summer and winter know their time,
And harvest crowns the spring.

3 Teach us, O gracious God, to sow
The seeds of righteousness;

Shine on our souls, and with thy beams
The ripening harvest bless.

736.

C. M.

Winter.

STEELE.

1 STERN Winter throws his icy chains,
Encircling nature round;

How bleak, how comfortless, the plains,
Late with gay verdure crowned!

2 The sun withholds his vital beams,
And light and warmth depart;
And drooping, lifeless nature seems
An emblem of my heart.

3 Return, O blissful sun, and bring
Thy soul-reviving ray ;

This mental winter shall be spring,
This darkness, cheerful day.
4 O happy state! divine abode,
Where spring eternal reigns,
And perfect day, the smile of God,
Fills all the heavenly plains.

5 Great Source of light, thy beams display,
My drooping joys restore,

And guide me to the seats of day,
Where winter frowns no more.

737.

C. M.

WATTS.

Winter.

1 THE hoary frost, the fleecy snow,
Descend and clothe the ground;
The liquid streams forbear to flow,
In icy fetters bound.

2 When, from his dreadful stores on high,
God pours the sounding hail,
The man that does his power defy
Shall find his courage fail.

3 God sends his word, and melts the snow;
The fields no longer mourn;
He calls the warmer gales to blow,
And bids the spring return.

4 The changing wind, the flying cloud,
Obey his mighty word;

With songs and honors sounding loud,
Praise ye the sovereign Lord.

738.

S. M.

MONTGOMERY.

Seed-time.

1 SOW in the morn thy seed;
At eve hold not thy hand;

To doubt and fear give thou no heed;
Broadcast it o'er the land;

2 And duly shall appear,

In verdure, beauty, strength,
The tender blade, the stalk, the ear,
And the full corn at length.

3 Thou canst not toil in vain ;

Cold, heat, and moist, and dry
Shall foster and mature the grain
For garners in the sky.

4 Thence, when the glorious end,
The day of God, shall come,
The angel-reapers shall descend,
And heaven cry, "Harvest home!"

Imitation of Thompson's Hymn on the Seasons.

1 LORD of the worlds below!
On earth thy glories shine;
The changing seasons show
Thy skill and power divine.

The rolling years In all we see

Are full of thee;

A God appears.

FREEMAN.

2 Forth in the flowery spring,
We see thy beauty move;
The birds on branches sing
Thy tenderness and love;

Wide flush the hills;

The air is balm ;

Devotion's calm
Our bosom fills.

3 Then come, in robes of light,
The summer's flaming days;
The sun thine image bright,
Thy majesty, displays;

And oft thy voice

In thunder rolls;

But still our souls
In thee rejoice.

4 In autumn, a rich feast
Thy common bounty gives
To man, and bird, and beast,
And every thing that lives.

Thy liberal care

And harvest moon,

At morn and noon, Our lips declare.

5 In winter, awful thou!

With storms around thee cast;
The leafless forests bow

Beneath thy northern blast.

We homage bring,

While tempests lower

To thee, dread King,

And own thy power.

740.

BARBAULD.

7s. M.

The Seasons.

1 PRAISE to God, immortal praise,
For the love that crowns our days!
Bounteous Source of every joy,
Let thy praise our tongues employ.
2 All that Spring, with bounteous hand,
Scatters o'er the smiling land,

All that liberal Autumn pours
From her rich, o'erflowing stores,

3 These to that dear Source we owe
Whence our sweetest comforts flow;
These, through all my happy days,
Claim my cheerful songs of praise.
4 Lord, to thee my soul should raise
Grateful, never-ending praise,
And, when every blessing 's flown,
Love thee for thyself alone.

741.

C. M.

The Blessing of Rain.

WATTS

1 'T IS by thy strength the mountains stand,
God of eternal power;

The sea grows calm at thy command,
And tempests cease to roar.

2 Thy morning light and evening shade
Successive comforts bring;

Thy plenteous fruits make harvest glad,
Thy flowers adorn the spring.

3 Seasons and times, and moons and hours,
Heaven, earth, and air are thine;

When clouds distil in fruitful showers,
The Author is divine.

4 Those wandering cisterns in the sky,
Borne by the winds around,
With watery treasures well supply
The furrows of the ground.

5 The thirsty ridges drink their fill,
And ranks of corn appear;

Thy ways abound with blessings still,
Thy goodness crowns the year.

742.

8s. M.

Spring.

1 THE winter is over and gone,

HAWES.

The thrush whistles sweet on the spray,