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3 It robes in cheerful green the ground, And pours its flow'ry beauties round,

Whose sweets perfume the gale; Its bounties richly spread the plain, The blushing fruit, the golden grain,

And smiles on ev'ry vale. 4 But in thy gospel see it shine With grace and glories more divine,

Proclaiming sins forgiv'n; There, faith, bright cherub, points the way To realms of everlasting day,

And opens all her heav'n.
5 Then let the love that makes me blest,
With cheerful praise inspire my breast,

Apd ardent gratitude:
And all my thoughts and passions tend
To thee my Father and my Friend,

My soul's eternal good.

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Praise to God in prosperity and adversity. Hab. iii.

17. 18.
1 Praise to God, immortal praise,

For the love that crowns our days :
Bounteous source of ev'ry joy,

Let thy praise our tongues employ : 2 For the blessings of the field,

For the stores the gardens yield ;
For the vines exalted juice,
For the gen’rous olive's use :

3 Flocks that whiten all the plain,

Yellow sheaves of ripen'd grain,
Clouds that drop their fattning dews,

Suns that temp’rate warmth diffuse ; 4 All that spring with bounteous hand

Scatters o'er the smiling land ;
All that lib’ral autumn pours

From her rich o’erflowing stores ; 5 These to thee, our God! we owe,

Source whence all our blessings flow!
And for these our souls shall raise

Grateful vows and solemn praise. 6 Yet should rising whirlwinds tear

From its stem the rip’ning ear;
Should the fig-tree's blasted shoot
Drop her green untimely fruit:
Should thine alter'd hand restrain
The early and the latter rain ;
Blast each op'ning bud-of joy,

And the rising year destroy:
8 Still to thee our souls shall raise

Grateful vows and solemn praise ;
And, when ev'ry blessing's flown,
Love thee--for thyself alone.
64.

DordriDGE. Praise to God through the whole of our existence. 1 God of my life! through all its days

My grateful pow’rs shall sound thy praise; The song shall wake with op'ning light, And warble to the silent night.

L. M.

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2 When anxious cares would break my rest,

And griefs would tear my throbbing breast,
Thy tuneful praises, rais'd on high,

Shall check the murmur and the sigh. 3 When death o'er nature shall prevail, *

And all its pow'rs of language fail,
Joy through my swimming eyes shall break,

And mean the thanks I cannot speak.
4 But O! when that blest morn is come,

Which breaks the slumbers of the tomb,
With what glad accents shall I rise

To join the music of the skies !
5 Soon shall I learn th' exalted strains

Which echo o'er the heavenly plains;
And emulate with joy unknown,

The glowing seraphs round thy throne. 6 Praise shall employ my nobler pow'rs,

While immortality endures :'
A work so sweet, a theme so high,
Demands, and crowns eternity.

C. M.

65.

Mrs. Rowe.

The righteous prayer.
1 To thee, O God! my pray’r ascends,

But not for golden stores ;
Nor covet I the brightest gems

On the rich eastern shores : 2 Nor that deluding, empty joy

Men call a mighty name ;
Nor greatness, with its pride and state,

My restless thoughts inflame:

3 Nor pleasure's fascinating charms,

My fond desires allure ;
But nobler things than these, from thee,

My wishes would secure.
4 The faith and hope of things upseen

My best affections move; Thy light, thy favour, and thy smiles,

Thine everlasting love : 5 These are the blessings I desire ;

LORD, be these blessings minem And all the glories of the world

I cheerfully resign.

C. M,

66.

BIRMINGHAM Col.
Aspiration after the christian temper.
1 My God! the Father of mankind!

Of life the only spring !
Creator of unnumber'd worlds !

Supreme, eternal king : 2 Drive from the confines of my heart

Impenitence and pride;
Nor let me in forbidden paths

With thoughtless sinners glide. 3 What'er thine all discerning eye

Sees for thy creature fit,
I'll bless the good, and to the ill

Contentedly submit. 4 With gen'rous pleasure let me view

The prosp'rous and the great;
Malignant hatred let me fly,

And odious self-conceit.

5 Let not despair, nor fell revenge,

Be to my bosom known :
Oh! give me tears for others' woes,

And patience for my own.
6 Feed me with necessary food :

I ask not wealth nor fame :
Give me an eye to see thy works,

A heart to bless thy name.
7 Still let my days serenely pass

Without remorse or care ;
And growing holiness my soul

For life's last hour prepare.

67.

8 & 6s. M.

MRS. CARTER.

Heavenly wisdom sought. 1 To thee, supreme, eternal mind, All-wise, all-perfect, ever kind,

My thoughts direct their flight; Wisdom's thy gift, and all her force From thee deriv'd, unchanging source,

Of intellectual light. 2 To me her better gifts impart, Each moral beauty of the heart

By studious thought refind; For wealth, the smiles of glad content, For power, its amplest, best extent,

An empire o'er the mind. 3 O send her sure, her steady ray To regulate my doubtful way

Thre' life's perplexing road;

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