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Who, from each flower and tender stalk,
Gather'd a hopied store of talk,
To fill the long, delightful walk ?

My Father.
Not on an insect would he tread,
Or strike the stinging nettle dead ;
Who taught at once my heart and head?

My Father. Who wrote upon that heart the line Religion graved on Virtue's shrine, To make the human race divine ?

My Father. Who, now, in pale and placid light Of memory, gleams upon my sight; Bursting the sepulchre of night?

My Father. Oh! teach me still thy Christian plan ; Thy practice with thy precept ran; Nor yet desert me, though a man,

My Father. Still let thy scholar's heart rejoice, With charms of thy angelic voice : Still prompt the motive and the choice,

My Father. For yet remains a little space, Ere I shall meet thee, face to face ; And, not as now, in vain embrace,

My Father

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Soon, as I hope, at Mercy's seat,
Spirits made perfect, we shall meet;
Thee, with what transports shall I greet!

My Father.


My God, thou mak'st the sun to know

His proper hour to rise,
And, to give light to all below,

Dost send him round the skies.

When from the chambers of the East

His morning race begins,
He never tires, nor stops to rest,

But round the world he shines.

So, like the sun, would I fulfil

The business of the day;
Begin my work betimes, and still

March on my heav'nly way.

Give me, O Lord, thy early grace,

Nor let my soul complain,
That the young morning of my days

Has all been spent in vain.


Teach me to pray, and let my pray'r

Like holy incense rise ;
Assist the off'rings of my heart

To reach the lofty skies.
Perpetual blessings from above

Encompass me around.
But oh! how few returns of love

Hath my Creator found !
What have I done for him that died,

From sin to save my soul?
How are my follies multiplied,

Fast as my minutes roll!
Lord, turn this guilty heart of mine,

That I to thee may flee,
And to thy love my soul resign,

To be renew'd by thee.
Meet me, I pray, with words of peace,

And fill my heart with love;
Tbat from my folly I may cease,

And henceforth faithful prove.


Be with me, Lord, where'er I go;
Teach me wbat thou wouldst hare me do;
Suggest whate'er I think or say;
Direct me in thy narrow way.


test I harbour pride ;
Lest I in my own strength confide,
Show me my weakness, let me see
I have all power, my God, from thee
Enrich me always with thy love;
My kind protector ever prove;
Lord, put thy seal upon my breast,
And let thy spirit on me rest.
Assist and teach me how to pray,
What thou abhor'st,--that bid me flee,
And only love what pleases, thee.


If I am right, thy grace impart,

Still in the right to stay,
If I am wrong, oh teach my heart

To find that better way.

Save me alike from foolish pride,,

Or impious discontent,
At aught thy goodness has denied,

Or aught thy goodness lent.

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Teach me to feel another's woe,

To hide the fault I see ; That mercy I to others show,

That mercy show to me.

Mean though I am, not wholly sos

Since quicken'd by thy breath :, Qh lead me wheresoe'er I go,

Through this day's life or death! This day be bread and peace my lot,

All else beneath the sun Thou know'st if best bestow'd or not,

And let thy will be done.


Brass to God, immortal praise -
For the love that crowns our days;
Bounteous source of every joy,
Let thy praise our tongues employz.
For the blessings of the field,
Kor the stores the gardens yield,
For the grape's delicious juice,
For the generouş, olive's ușe..
Flocks that whiten-all the plain,
Yellow sheaves of ripen'd grainz
Clouds that drop their fatt'ning dews,
Şuns that temp’rate warmth diffuse.
All that spring, with bounteous hand,
Scatters o'er the smiling land;
All that liberal Autump pours,.
Krom her rich o'erflowing stores,

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