Forgotten in unthankfulness,
And without praises die.

3 'Tis he forgives my sins,
'Tis he relieves my pain;
Tis he that heals my sicknesses,
And gives me strength again.

4 He crowns my life with love,
When rescued from the grave;
He that redeem'd my soul from death,
Hath boundless power to save.

5 He fills the poor with good;
He gives the suff'rer rest;
The Lord hath justice for the proud,
And mercy for th' opprest.

6 His wondrous works and ways
He made by Moses known;
But sent the world his truth and grace
By his beloved Son.

46. L. M. WATTS.

Blessings of providence and redemption.

1 ADORE, my soul! the living God,
Call home thy thoughts that rove abroad;
Let all the pow'rs within me join
In work and worship so divine.

2 Bless, O my soul! the God of grace;
His favours claim thy highest praise :
Let not the wonders he hath wrought,
Be lost in silence and forgot.

3 He fills our longing souls with good,
Substantial bliss! immortal food!

Youth smiles renew'd in active prime, And triumphs o'er the pow'r of time. 4 The vices of the mind he heals,

And sooths the pains which nature feels:
Redeems our souls from death, and saves
Our wasting lives from threat'ning graves.
5 The weak by lawless pow'r opprest,
He sees, and often gives them rest;
But will his justice more display
In the last great rewarding day.

6 His pow'r he show'd by Moses' hands,
And gave to Isr'el his commands;
But made his truth and mercy known
To all the nations by his Son.

7 Let the whole earth his pow'r confess;
Let the whole earth adore his grace;
The Gentile with the Jew shall join
In work and worship so divine.

47.

L. M, MRS. CARTER.

Thanks to God for creation and preservation.

1 THOU pow'r, by whose command we live! The tribute of our praise receive:

We to thy love our being owe,
And all the joys that from it flow.

2 Not many suns have form'd the year,
And roll'd their courses round this sphere,
Since thy kind eye our form survey'd,
Midst shapeless heaps of matter laid,

3 Thy skill our native clay refin'd,
Its particles in order join'd;

With symmetry compos'd the whole,
And stamp'd thine image on the soul

4 A frame susceptible of joy,

;

Which force nor time shall ne'er destroy; Which shall, tho' nature claim our breath, Yet triumph o'er the sleep of death.

5 To realms of bliss that frame will soar, When earth and skies shall be no more: O God! in vain our voice essays

For this best gift to speak thy praise.

6 How shall our hearts their sense reveal, Where all the pow'r of words must fail? O may it in our lives appear,

And each act speak our thanks sincere!

Praise to God in life and death.

1 My soul shall praise thee, O my God! Through all my mortal days;

And to eternity prolong

Thy vast, thy boundless praise.

2 In each bright hour of peace and hope,
Be this my sweet employ :
Devotion heightens all my bliss,
And sanctifies my joy.

3 In all thy mercies may my soul
A father's bounty see;

Nor let the gifts thy grace bestows,
Estrange my heart from thee.

4 When gloomy care, or keen distress, Invades my throbbing breast,

My tongue shall learn to speak thy praise, And sooth my pains to rest.

5 Nor shall my tongue alone proclaim
The honours of my God;

My life, with all my active pow'rs,
Shall spread thy praise abroad.

6 Thro' ev'ry changing stage of life,
Each bright, each clouded scene;
Give me a meek and humble mind,
Still equal and serene.

7 And tho' these lips shall cease to move,
Though death shall close these eyes,
Yet shall my soul to nobler heights
Of joy and transport rise.

8 Then shall my pow'rs in endless strains
Their grateful tribute pay:

1

2

The theme demands an angel's tongue,
And an eternal day.

49.

S. M. MRS. STEELE.

Obligation to gratitude and praise.

My Father and my King!

To thee my all I owe:

Thy sov'reign bounty is the spring,
From whence my blessings flow.

Thou ever good and kind!
A thousand reasons move,
A thousand obligations bind
My heart to grateful love.

3

The creature of thy hand,
On thee alone I live:

4

5

6

My God! thy benefits demand

More praise than life can give.

O what can I impart,

When all was thine before?

Thy love demands a thankful heart;
The gift, alas! how poor!

Shall I withhold thy due?

And shall my passions rove?

Lord! make me to thy service true,

And fill me with thy love.

O let thy grace inspire

My soul with strength divine;
Let all my pow'rs to thee aspire,

And all my days be thine.

God, preserver, benefactor, and Saviour.
1 How well our great Preserver knows
To weigh, and to relieve our woes!
Behold his wrath's avenging blast,
How slow to rise, how soon o'erpast!
2 How prompt his favour to dispense
Its life-imparting influence!
How speedy his paternal love
Our deep afflictions to remove!

3 Grief for a night, obtrusive guest!
Beneath our roof perchance may rest
But joy, with the returning day,
Shall wipe each transient tear away.