Not as the worldling bids farewell

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266

Now is the stately column broke .

223

Now the bright spring comes forth to clothe the trees

171

Oh! land of the godly, how lone and deferted

251

O Thou Eternal One! whose presence bright

O Thou that drieft the mourner's tear

O Thou, whom neither time nor space
O Thou whose wisdom guides the way
Our birth is but a fleep

Our hearts are fastened to the world

O weep not for the gathered rofe

O what a bright and bleffed world

O what is death? "Tis life's last shore

O what terror in thy forethought

Prayer is the foul's fincere defire.

Prayer, the Church's banquet, Angel's age

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146

III

T

Tell me not in mournful numbers

Tell me, thou duft beneath my feet
Tender mercies on my way

That ancient Fathers thus expound the page

The bird that foars on highest wing
The child-like Faith that afks not fight
The child of tears, the child of tears

The Curfew tolls the knell of parting day

The feeble pulfe, the gasping breath
The first-born rofe of vernal prime

The freeborn Chriftian has no chains to prove

The great August Immortal King
The groans of Nature in this nether world

The Lord defcended from above.

The Lord my pasture shall prepare

The Lord of Might from Sinai's brow
The quality of Mercy is not strain'd
The reason firm, the temperate will
The Son of God goes forth to war
The Spirit breathes upon the Word
The Sundays of Man's life

The whispering waves were half asleep
Then let us be content to leave behind us.
Then tower'd the palace, then in awful state
There is a place, beyond that flaming hill,
There is an unknown language spoken
There nor waxing moon nor waning
There's mufic in the morning air.

There's reft for the foul that on Jefus relies

260

These are Thy glorious works, Parent of good

72

These are Thy glorious works, Thou fource of good

245

Thou art gone to the grave! but we will not deplore thee.

Thou bleffed Saviour, facred Spring

Thou shalt rife, my duft! thou fhalt arise.

124

61

229

86

Though private prayer be a brave defign

164

Through all eternity to Thee

Thus to relieve the wretched was his pride
Thus when the lamp that lighted.

Thy own musician, Lord, inspire .
'Tis gone, that bright and orbed blaze

'Tis the foft hour of eve, the fummer's fun

To aid the fatherless

To me the thought of death is terrible

To the name that brings falvation

Tu noftra, tu Jefu falus

Upon the Ocean God is near

Urbs cœleftis! Urbs beata.

Vital spark of Heavenly flame

Weep no more, woful fhepherds, weep no more

Well for him who all things lofing

Were every faultering tongue of man

We wept !-'twas Nature wept - but Faith
What are they now? Morality may spare
What hallows ground where heroes fleep
What if each drop of rain fhould plead
What joy while thus I view the day

What is there in this vale of life
What finners value I refign

What fudden blaze of fong

When eyes are beaming

When forced to part from those we love
When I furvey the wondrous cross

When shall I offer up, O beautiful and bright
When fore afflictions crush the foul

When fuch a man familiar with the fkies

When these dark hours of earthly love
When the spark of life is waning
Where the bright Seraphim in burning row
Which is the happiest death to die
Who hath this book, and reads it not

With age invested, thou didst mount above
Within this awful Volume lies

Woe be to the priest, y-born

Ye who your Lord's commiffion bear
Yon cottager who weaves at her own door

FINIS.

LONDON SPOTTISWOODE AND CO., NEW-STREET SQUARE.