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Thus on I grew, and still receive

The blessings thou art wont to give

Blessings alas! I ill repay

With new transgressions every day.

Yet still be gracious, Mighty Lord;

Grant me a heart to love thy word,
And each command obey :

And when this worthless nature dies;
When from the flesh my spirit flies,

Let angels waft me through the skies To Christ's eternal day.

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Oh! could some angel hover near,

And tell us half its joys;

How irksome would this life appear,

And death-how great a prize!

Then should we spread our anxious wings,

Through yon bright orbs to fly;

Then should we dwell on heav'nly things,

And wish and long to die.

Yet though our frail, corrupted hearts

Feel not the heavenly flame,

Jesus a Heaven on earth imparts,

If we but love his name.

Yes! if that hallow'd name we love,

And strive his paths to run,

This world a Heav'n indeed shall prove

Eternal bliss begun.

A little that a righteous man hath, is better than the riches

of many wicked.-Psalm xxxvii. v. 16.

SAY, what is wealth and all its joys,

To Heav'n's immense, immortal prize?--

The dust that dims the scale!

The love of God, in value more

Than all the gems of India's shore,

Shall bless when wealth shall fail.

Yes-if the wealth of every land,

If the vast orb on which I stand,

Without that love were mine;

I should be needy—poor indeed,

Compar'd with him that begs his bread,

Bless'd with the love divine.

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