my soul, and with the sun,
Thy daily stage of duty run;
Shake of dull sloth, and early rise
To pay thy morning sacrifice.
Redeem thy mis-spent moments past,
And live this day as if thy last;
Thy talents to improve take care,
For the great day thyself prepare.
Let all thy converse be sincere,
Thy conscience as the noon-day clear;
For God's all-seeing eye surveys
Thy secret thoughts, thy works and ways.
Wake, and lift up thyself my heart,
And with the angels bear a part;
Who all night long unwearied sing,
High glory to th' eternal King.
Praise God from whom all blessings flow;
Praise him, all creatures here below;
Praise him above, angelic host;
Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost,
Hymn 2. L. M.
For the Evening.
LORY to thee, my God, this night,
For all the blessings of the light,
Keep me, O keep me! King of kings,
Under thine own Almighty wings.
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.
Teach me to live that I may dread
The grave as little as my bed;
Teach me to die that so I may
With joy behold the judgment day.
O may my soul on thee repose,
And with sweet sleep mine eye-lids close!
Sleep that may me more active make
To serve my God when I awake.
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.
COME, Holy Spirit, from above;
Impart thy gifts of grace and love;
Come visit with celestial fire,
And with thyself our souls inspire;
That we may relish things divine,
And to the word of God incline.
What ills soever may befall,
Thou art the Comforter in all,
Deputed from the throne of grace,
To bless and guide the human race;
The strength of that Almighty hand,
Whose pow'r does heav'n and earth command.
Proceeding Spirit, our defence,
Thy heav'nly light to us dispense;
From sin and sorrow set us free,
And make thy temples worthy thee;
Though feeble we, alas! and frail,
Let not the world or flesh prevail.
Chase from our minds th' infernal foe,
And peace, the fruit of love bestow,
And lest our feet should step astray,
Direct and keep us in the way;
Make us eternal truth receive,
And practice all that we believe.
Hymn 4. P. M.
For Sunday Morning.
GAIN the day returns of holy rest,
Which, when he made the world, Jehovah
When, like his own, he bade our labours cease,
And all be piety, and all be peace.
While impious men despise the sage decree,
From vain deceit and false philosophy;
Let us its wisdom own, its blessings feel,
Receive with gratitude, perform with zeal.
Let us devote this consecrated day
To learn his will, and all we learn obey ;
In pure religion's hallow'd duties share,
And join in penitence and join in pray'r.
So shall the God of mercy pleas'd receive
That only tribute man has pow'r to give;
So shall he bear, while fervently we raise,
Our choral harmony in hymns of praise.
CHORUS.
Father of heav'n! in whom our hopes confide, Whose pow'r defends us, and whose precepts guide;
In life our guardian, and in death our friend,
Glory supreme be thine, till time shall end.
Hymn 5. P. M.
For Sunday Afternoon.
OON will the ev'ning star, with silver ray,
Shed its mild lustre on this sacred day;
Resume we then, ere sleep and silence reigu,
The rites that holiness and heav'n ordain.
Still let each awful truth our thoughts engage,
That shines reveal'd on inspiration's page;
Nor those blest hours in vain amusements waste,
Which all who lavish shall lament at last.
Here humbly let us hope our Maker's smile
Will crown with meet success, our daily toil;
And here on each returning sabbath join
In pray'r, in penitence, and praise divine.
Father of heav'n in whom our hopes confide, Whose pow'r defends us, and whose precepts guide;
In life our guardian, and in death our friend,
Glory supreme be thine, till time shall end.
ORD of the sabbath hear our vows,
On this thy day, in this thy house;
Accept as grateful sacrifice,
The songs which from thy servants rise.
Thine earthly sabbaths, Lord, we love,
But there's a nobler rest above;
To that our lab'ring souls aspire,
With ardent pangs of strong desire.
No more fatigue, no more distress,
Nor sin, nor hell shall reach the place:
No groans to mingle with the songs
Resounding from immortal tongues.
No rude alarms of raging foes,
No cares to break the long repose;
No midnight shade, no clouded sun,
But sacred, high, eternal noon.
Oh! long expected day begin;
Dawn on these realms of woe and sin;
Fain would we leave this weary road,
And sleep in death to rest with God.
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