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Perhaps that part of scripture is their choice,
Where Jesus says, “My sheep they hear my voice;"
Yes, they do hear him, those who feel his love,
Soft'ning their hearts and drawing them above-
They the good shepherd know, and bis sweet influence



The air is chill, the rain falls fast,

And dark and wintry is the night,
And cold and biting is the blast,

And not a star assords its light:
How can I, then, ungrateful be,
Who have a house to cover me?

How many poor around me roam,

Not knowing where to lay their head ;
Without a friend, without a home,

Except it be a mud-wall'd shed !
How can I, then, ungrateful be,
Who have a house to cover me?

How can I, then, while thus I live,

Be discontented with my lot?
The Lord does many mercies give,

Yet who so often is forgot?
Then may I ever grateful be,
For all the Lord has given to me.


There is a land of pure delight,

Where Saints immortal reign,
Infinite day excludes the night,

And pleasures banish pain.

There everlasting Spring abides,

And never withering flowers;
Death, like a narrow stream, divides

This heavenly land from our's.

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But, timorous mortals start and shrink

To cross this narrow sea;
And linger, shiv’ring on the brink,

And fear to launch away.

Oh! could we bid those fears remove,

Those painful fears that rise,
And see the Canaan that we love

With unbeclouded eyes.

Could we but stand where Moses stood,

And view the landscape o'er ;
Not Jordan's stream, nor death's cold flood,

Could fright us from the shore.


Through all the dangers of the night

Preserved, O Lord, by thee, Again we hail the cheerful light,

Again we bow the knee.

Preserve us, Lord, throughout the day,

And guide us by thy arm!
For they are safe, and only they,

Whom thou preserv'st from harm.

Oh! may the beams of truth divine,

With clear convincing light, In all our understandings shine,

And chase our mental night.

Let all our words, and all our ways,

Declare that we are thine ;
That so the light of truth and grace,

Before the world may shine.

Nor let us turn away from thee

Dear Saviour, hold us fast, Till with immortal eyes, we see

Thy glorious face at last.


When wise Ulysses, from his native coast,
Long kept by wars, and long by tempests tost,
Arriv'd at last, poor, old, disguised, alone,
To all his friends and e'en his Queen unknown :
Chang'd as he was with age, and toils, and cares,
Furrow'd his rev’rend face, and white his hairs,
In his own palace forc'd to ask his bread,
Scorn’d by those slaves his former bounty fed,
Forgot of all his own domestic crew;
The faithful dog alone his master knew!
Unfed, unhous’d, neglected, on the clay,
Like an old servant now cashier'd he lay;
And tho' e'en then, expiring on the plain,
Touch'd with resentment of ungrateful men,
And longing to behold his ancient lord again :
Him when he saw-he rose, and crawl’d to meet,
'Twas all he could, and fawn'd, and kiss'd his feet,
Seiz'd with dumb joy; then falling by his side,
Own’d his returning lord, look'd up, and died.


REPENTANCE is, to leave

The sins we loved before ;
And show that we in earnest griere,

By doing so no more.


Lord, make us thus sincere,

To watch as well as pray;
However' small, however dear,

Take all our sins away.

And since the Saviour came

To make us turn from sin ;
With holy grief and humble shame,

May we at once begin.

If Jesus Christ was sent

To save us from our sin,
And kindly teach us to repent,

We should at once begin.

He says, he loves to see

A broken-hearted one;
He loves that sinners such as we

Should mourn for what we've done.

'Tis not enough to say,

We're sorry and repent;
And still go on, from day to day,

Just as we always went.


LORD! I am poor, yet hear my call;

Bestow my daily bread;

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