4 Awake my foul; with utmost care Thy true condition learn;

What are thy hopes, how fure, how fair; Be this thy first concern.

5 Devoutly give thyfelf to God, And on his love depend;

I

2

3

With zeal pursue the heavenly road,
Nor doubt a happy end.

CCCLXV. Long Metre. DODDRIDGE.
At an Ordination.

G

REAT Lord of fpirits, we adore
The grace, which guards thy courts
below;

And 'midst ten thousand fons of light
Stoops to regard what mortals do.

Amidft the waftes of time and death
Succeffive paftors thou doft raise,
Thy truth to tell, thy kingdom spread,
And form a people for thy praife.

At length, difmiffed from feeble clay,
Thy fervants join th' angelic band;
With them o'er other charge prefide,,
With them before thy prefence stand.
4 O bleft employ! O glorious hope!
Sweet lenitive of grief and care!

5

When fhall we reach thofe radiant courts, And all their joys and honours share?

Yet while these labours we pursue, Though diftant from the heavenly throne,

I

2

3

4

5

I

Give us a zeal and love like their's,
And half their heaven fhall here be known.

CCCLXVI. Long Metre. WATTS.
Morning Hymn.

G

OD of the morning, at whofe voice The cheerful fun makes hafte to rife, Burfts from the goal, and doth rejoice To run his journey thro' the fkies.

From the fair chambers of the east
In glorious pride begins his race,
And without wearinefs or reft
Measures the vaft etherial space.

O like the fun, may I fulfil
Th' appointed duties of the day,
With cheerful mind and active will
Onward pursue my virtuous way.

But I fhall rove, and lofe the race,
If God my fun fhall disappear,

And leave me in the world's wild maze
To follow every wandering ftar.

My God, be thou my strength and guide, And lead me onward to my reft:

No other hopes or cares befide

Deserve a welcome in my breast.

CCCLXVII.

Common Metre. UNKNOWN.
The fame.

ight's dismal gloom once more is fled,
And day returns to me;

Once

Once more I quit my peaceful bed,
And rifing beauties fee.

2 My bed-It might have been my grave,
My bed of fickness, pain;.
But God, whofe pleasure is to fave,
Renews my health again.

3 As night's dark fhades, and brooding forms,
And prowling beafts of prey,
Forbear to spread their rude alarms,
Aw'd at th' approach of day.

4 So be difperfed each brooding care,
That fprings from paffions foul,
From envy, avarice, dark defpair,
Nor vex my wakened foul.

5 And may I ever know the joy
Which peace with thee infpires;
That peace which earth cannot destroy,
Which not in death expires.

CCCLXVIII. Common Metre.

THE

The fame.

HE night is paft; again my eye
Salutes the rifing day;

To thee, O fun, I not apply,

To God my thanks I pay.

2 Night unto night his praise renews,
And day to day replies;

In all my foul delighted views
The God, who all fupplies.

3 Author of life and good! O how

Shall I thy love return;

U 2

" Give

4

2

3

4

5

"Give me thy heart, the good pursue,
"And every evil fpurn.

"So live, as to fubferve the enddyM
"For which thy life I gave:

M

"Thus to thy God thy heart commend,
"And live beyond the grave."

CCCLXIX. Long Metre. FLATMAN.

A

The fame.

WAKE, my foul! Awake, mine eyes!
Awake, my drowsy faculties!

Awake, and fee the new-born light

Spring from the darkfome womb of night!
Look up, and fee th' unwearied fun
Already has his race begun,

And cheered by his enlivening ray,
All nature joyful hails the day.

Be mine a more informed joy ;
The God of day my fong employ :
O great Creator! heavenly King,
Thy praises let me ever fing.

Thy power has made, thy goodness kept This fenceless body while I flept;

Yet one day more haft given me
From all the powers of darkness free.

O keep my heart from fin fecure,
My life unblameable and pure;
That when my laft of days fhall come,
With hope I may await my. doom.

Long

CCCLXX. Long Metre.

UNKNOWN.

I

2

3

4

5

NO

Evening Hymn.

TOW fable night concludes the day; With me, my guardian God, abide ; And let not fin, in black array,

Thy all propitious prefence hide.

More than the fun thou art my day;
More than the spring thou doft revive;
More than my friends thou makeft me gay;
By thee more than my food I live.

Thy eye no flumber ever knows :
Shield me beneath thy powerful arm,
From open and from fecret foes,
From all that means to work my harm.

When to my bed of reft I move,
Peaceful may all my moments be;
And all intruding thoughts remove,
That lead from virtue and from thee.

1

Sleep is death's image; may I know
From fleeping, what it is to die;
And to my grave as willing go,
As on this bed of down to lie.

6. A little longer, longer hold!

A while this mortal burden bear!
When a few moments more are told,
All this vain scene fhall difappear.