THE earth is thine, and it thou keepest,
That man may labour not in vain;
Thou giv'st the grass, the grain, the tree,
Seed-time and harvest come from thee,
The early and the latter rain!

The earth is thine- the summer earth,
Fresh with the dews, with sunshine bright;
With golden clouds in evening hours,
With singing-birds and balmy flowers,
Creatures of beauty and delight.

The earth is thine-when days are dim,
And leafless stands the stately tree;

When from the north the fierce winds blow,
When falleth fast the mantling snow
The earth pertaineth still to thee!

The earth is thine-thy creature, man!
Thine are all worlds, all suns that shine;
Darkness and light, and life and death,
Whate'er all space inhabiteth-

Creator! Father! all are thine!

CVII.

THE Lord is my Shepherd,

I shall not want.

He maketh me to lie down in green pastures,

He leadeth me beside the still waters;

He restoreth my soul.

He leadeth me in the paths of righteousness,
For his name's sake.

Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,

I will fear no evil;

For thou art with me

Thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.
Thou preparest a table before me,
In the presence of mine enemies;
Thou anointest my head with oil;
My cup runneth over.

Surely goodness and mercy have followed me all my days,

And I will dwell in the house of the Lord for

ever.

CVIII.

IN

peace at once will I

Both lay me down and sleep;

For thou alone dost keep

Me safe where'er I lie;

As in a rocky cell,

Thou, Lord, alone, in safety mak'st me dwell.

As meadows parch'd, brown groves, and wither

ing flowers,

Imbibe the sparkling dew and genial showers; As chill dark air inhales the morning beam; As thirsty harts enjoy the gelid stream;

Thus to man's grateful soul from heaven descend The mercies of his Father, Lord, and Friend.

CX.

EARTH, of man the bounteous mother,
Feeds him still with corn and wine;
He who best would aid a brother,

Shares with him these gifts divine.

Many a power within her bosom,
Noiseless, hidden, works beneath;

Hence are seed, and leaf, and blossom,
Golden ear, and clustered wreath.

These to swell with strength and beauty
Is the royal task of man;

Man's a king, his throne is Duty,
Since his work on earth began.

Bud and harvest, bloom and vintage,
These, like man, are fruits of earth;

Stamped in clay, a heavenly mintage,

All from dust receive their birth.

Wind and frost, and hour and season,
Land and water, sun and shade,
Work with these, as bids thy reason;
For they work thy toil to aid.

Sow thy seed, and reap in gladness-
Man himself is all a seed;

Hope and hardship, joy and sadness,
Slow the plant to ripeness lead.

CXI.

How little of ourselves we know

Before a grief the heart has felt!
The lessons that we learn of woe
May brace the mind, as well as melt.

The energies too stern for mirth,

The reach of thought, the strength of will, Mid cloud and tempest have their birth, Through blight and blast their course fulfil.

And yet 'tis when it mourns and fears,
The loaded spirit feels forgiven;
And through the mist of falling tears

We catch the clearest glimpse of heaven.

IN the plan divine

All for good combine,
Contrarious seasons one kind will obey:

It was a summer bright
When creation's light

First dawned on chaos and made Eden

"It was the winter wild

When the heaven-born Child,

gay;

All meanly wrapped, in the rude manger lay."

CXIII.

COME, said Jesus' sacred voice,

Come, and make my paths your choice:

I will guide you to your home;

Weary pilgrim, hither come!

Thou who houseless, sole, forlorn,

Long hast borne the proud world's scorn,

Long hast roamed the barren waste,
Weary pilgrim, hither haste!

Sinner, come! for here is found

Balm that flows for every wound;

Peace that ever shall endure;
Rest eternal, sacred, sure.