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Our hearts, to wisdom's sacred ways,
That we may learn to live and die.

The Death of Infants.
"HY life, I read, my dearest Lord,

With transport all divine ;
Thine image trace in ev'ry word,

Thy love in ev'ry line. 2 Methinks I see a thousand charms,

Spread o'er thy lovely face ; When Infants in thy tender arms,

Receive the smiling grace.
3 I take these tender lambs, faid he,

And lay them on my breast ;
Protection they shall find in me ;

In me, be-ever bleft.
4 Death may the bands of life unloose,

But can't dissolve my love ;
Millions of Infant fouls compose

The family above. 5 Their feeble frames my pow'r shall raise,

And mould with heav'nly skill ;
P'll give them tongues to fing my praise ;

And hands to do my will.
6 His words the happy parents hear,

And thout with joys divine ;
Dear Saviour, all we have and are,
Shall be forever thine,


On the Death of Children. I YET Emourning friends, whose streaming tears,

Flow o'er your children dead, Say not, in transports of defpair,

That all your hopes are fled. 2.While cleaving to that darling dust,

In fond distress you lie ;
Rise, and with joy and rev'renice view,

A heav'nly parent nigh.
3 Tho' your young branches torn away,

Like wither'd trunks you stand ;
With fairer verdure shall they bloom,

Touch'd by th' Almighty's hand.
4 I'll give the moưrners, faith the Lord,

house a place ; No names of daughters and of fons,

Can yield so high a gracc.
5 Transient and vain is ev'ry hope,

A rising race could give :
In endless honor and delight,
My children all shall live.

Comfort in Trouble.
My God the cov’naut of thy love,

Abides forever sure ;
And in its matchless grace I feel,

My happinefs fecure.
2 What tho' my house be not with thee,

As nature could desire ;

my own

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To nobler joys than nature gives

Thy fervants all aspire.
3 Since shou, the everlasting God,

My father art become ;
Jefus my guardian, and my friend,

And heav'n my final home.
4 I welcome all thy sov’reign will ;

For all that will is love ;
And when I know not what thou dost,

I wait the light above.
5 Thy cov'nant the lalt accent claims,

Of this poor fault'ring tongue ;
And that shall the first notes employ,

Of my celestial fong.

Fear not, it is I.
AND are thou, with us, gracious Lord?

To dissipate our fear?
Dost thou proclaim thyself our God?

Our God forever near ?
1 Dost thou a father's bowels feel ?

For all thy humble saints ?
And in such friendly accents speak

To footh their fad complaints ? 3 Why droops our hearts? Why flow our eyes?

While such a voice we hear?
Why rise our sorrows, and our fears?

While such a friend is near? 4

To all these other favors add,
A heart to trust thy word ;

P. M.

And death itself fhall hear us fing,
While resting on the Lord.

[STĘELE.] Submission. AN

ND can my heart aspire so high,

To say, my father God! Lord at thy feet I fain would lie,

And learn to kiss the rod.
2 I would submit to all thy will,

For thou art good and wise ;
Let ev'ry anxious thought be fill,

Nor one faint murmur rise.
3 Thy love can cheer the darksome gloom,

And bid me wait ferene ;
Till hopes and joys immortal bloom,
And brighten all the scene.
My father, O permit my heart
To plead her humble claim,
And ask the bliss these words impart,

Redeemer's came.

HYMN CCXXIX. L.M. [Ripron's coll.]

Confolation in forrow.
HRO' all the various, shifting scene,

of life's miltaken ill, or good; Thy hand o God, conducts unleen,

The beautiful viciffitude.
? Thou givelt with paternal care,

Howe'er unjaftly we complain,
To each their necessary share,
Of joy and forrow, health and paio.

3 Trust we to youth, or friends, or pow'r ?

Fix we on this terrestrial ball ?
When most fecure, the coming hour,

If thou see fit, may blast them all. 4 When lowest sunk, with grief and shame;

Fill'd with affliction's bitter cup ;
Loft to relations, friends, and fame,

Thy pow'rful hand can raise us up. 5 Thy pow'rful confolations cheer ;

Thy smiles suppress the deep fetch'd figh! Thy hand can dry the trickling tear,

That secret wets the widow's eye !
6 All things on earth, and all in heav'n,

On thy eternal will depend ;
And all for greater good were giv'n,
And all, shall in thy glory end.


Thanksgiving Hymn.
"O God the universal King,

Let all mankind their tribute bring :
All that have breath your voices raise,

Ic songs of never cealing praise.
2 The spacious earth on which we tread,

And wider heav'n's Itrecch'd o'er our head,
A large and folemn temple frame,

To celebrate its builder's name.
3 Here the bright fun that rules the day,

As thro' the sky he makes his way;
To all the world proclaims abroad,
The boundless fov'reignty of God.

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