Give thanks to God in all things.

1 GREAT God! our joyful thanks to thee,
Shall, like thy gifts, continual be:
In constant streams thy bounty flows,
Nor end nor interruption knows.
2 From thee our comforts all arise,
Our num'rous wants thy hand supplies,
Nor can we ever, Lord, be poor,
Who live on thine exhaustless store.
3 If what we ask our God denies,

It is because thou'rt good and wise;
And ills, which cause our hearts to mourn,
Thou canst to real blessings turn.

4 Deep, Lord, upon our thankful breast
Let all thy favours be imprest;
That we may never more forget
The whole, or any single debt.

5 May we with grateful hearts each day
For all thy gifts our praises pay ;
And still delighted may we be
In all things to give thanks to thee!

57. L. M. MISS ROSCOE.

1 How rich the blessings, O my God, Which teach this grateful heart to glow; How kindly pour'd and free bestow'd, The rivers of thy mercy flow!

2 How calmly rolls the stream of life ; Secure in thine immortal trust,.

The soul has hush'd her secret strife,
Nor longer shudders at the dust.

3 Though sorrow's cloud awhile o'ercast
The dawn of earthly hope and joy,
She knows that it must soon be past,
And will unveil eternity.

4 Then virtue's humble toil and prayer
Shall stand acknowledged at thy throne,
Triumphant over earthly care,
And the blest record thou wilt own.

Prayer to the supreme being.

1 WHILE raptur'd saints adoring stand,
And burning seraphs sing,
Trembling I wait thy just command,
My father, GOD, and king!

2 Thou source of everlasting good,
Whose bounty flows to all!

Thy pow'r restrains the swelling flood ;-
O hear! to thee I call.

3 Thy presence fills unbounded space,
Directs the reas'ning mind:

Thro' nature's various parts we trace
Her GoD: her GoD we find.

4 Thy wisdom paints each springing flow'r, And shades the blushing green;

Thy goodness falls in ev'ry show'r,
In ev'ry show'r is seen.

5 When'er thy wisdom thinks it fit
To shake this clay built frame,
Teach me with patience to submit,
With patience bless thy name.
6 Let not the stream of partial ill
My better thoughts betray,
Let truth and reason guide me still
Through virtue's peaceful way.

1 FATHER supreme! thy gracious pow'r On ev'ry hand we see ;

O may the blessings of each hour
Lead all our thoughts to thee.

2 If on the wings of morn we speed
To earth's remotest bound,

Thy right hand will our footsteps lead,
Thine arm our path surround.

3 Thy pow'r is in the ocean deeps,
And reaches to the skies;

Thine eye of mercy never sleeps,
Thy goodness never dies.

4 From morn till noon, till latest eve
The hand of God we see ;

And all the blessings we receive,
Ceaseless proceed from thee.

5 In all the various scenes of time,
On thee our hopes depend;
In ev'ry age, in ev'ry clime,
Our Father and our Friend.

God the author of our comforts, our deliverances, and

our hopes.

1 GREAT Source of life! our souls confess
The various riches of thy grace;
Crown'd with thy mercy, we rejoice,
And in thy praise exalt our voice.

2 By thee the vault of heav'n was spread;
By thee the earth's foundations laid;
And all the scenes of man's abode
Proclaim a wise and gracious God.

3 Thy quick'ning hand restores our breath, When trembling on the verge of death; Gently it wipes away our tears,

And lengthens life to future years.

4 Our lives are sacred to the LORD ;
Kindl'd by him, by him restor❜d:
And, while our hours renew their race,
May sin no more these hours disgrace!
5 So when, at length, by thee we're led
Through unknown regions of the dead,
With hope triumphant may we move
To scenes of nobler life above!

The bounty of Providence improved.

1 FATHER of lights! we sing thy name,
Who kindl'st up the lamp of day;
Wide as he spreads his golden flame,
His beams thy pow'r and love display.

2 Fountain of good! from thee proceeds, In copious drops, the genial rain,

Which o'er the hills, and thro' the meads, Revive the grass, and swell the grain.

3 Thro' the wide world thy bounties spread; Yet millions of our guilty race,

Though by thy daily bounty fed, Affront thy law, and spurn thy grace. 4 Not so may our forgetful hearts O'erlook the tokens of thy care; But what thy lib'ral hand imparts, Still own in praise, still ask in pray'r. 5 So shall our suns more grateful shine, And show'rs in sweeter drops shall fall, When all our hearts and lives are thine, And thou, O GOD! enjoy'd in ail.

1 MY GOD! thy boundless love I praise ;
How bright on high its glories blaze!
How sweetly bloom below!

It streams from thine eternal throne;
Thro' heaven its joys forever run,
And o'er the earth they flow.

2 'Tis love that paints the purple morn,
And bids the clouds, in air upborne,
Their genial drops distil;

In ev'ry vernal beam it glows,
And breathes in ev'ry gale that blows,
And glides in ev'ry rill.