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There is a law which he has writ,

To teach us all what we must do ; My soul, to his commands submit,

For they are holy, just, and true. There is a gospel of rich grace, Whence sinners all their comforts

draw; Lord ! I repent, and seek thy face,

For I have often broke thy law. There is an hour when I must die,

Nor do I know how soon 'twill come ; A thousand children, young as I,

Are call’d by death to hear their doom. Let me improve the hours I have,

Before the day of grace is fled; There's no repentance in the grave,

Nor pardon offer'd to the dead. Just as a tree cut down, that fell

To north or southward, there it lies: So man departs to heav'n or hell,

Fix'd in the state wherein he dies.

How many children in the street

Half naked I behold! While I am cloth'd from head to feet,

And cover'd from the cold.
While some poor wretches scarce can

Where they may lay their head;
I have a home wherein to dweil,
And rest upon my bed.

While others early learn to swear,

And curse, and lie, and steal;
Lord, I am taught thy name to fear,

And do thy holy will.
Are these thy favours, day by day,

To me above the rest 3
Then let me love thee more than they,

And strive to serve thee best.

5. Praise for Birth and Education in

a Christian Land. Great God, to thee my voice I raise,

To thee my youngest hours belong; I would begin my life with praise,

Till growing years improve the song. 'Tis to thy sov'reign grace I owe,

That I was born on British ground; Where streams of heav'nly mercy flow,

And words of sweet salvation sound.

I would not change my native land

For rich Peru, with all her gold; A nobler prize lies in her hand

Than East or Western Indies hold.

How do I pity those that dwell

Where ignorance & darkness reigns! They know no heaven, they fear no hell, Those endless joys, those endless

pains. Thy glorious promises, O Lord,

Kindle my hopes, and my desire; While all the preachers of thy word

Warn me t'escape eternal fire. Thy praise shall still employ my breath, Since thou hast mark'd my way to

heav'n; Nor will I run the road to death, And waste the blessings thou hast




12. Love between Brothers and sisters. WHATEVER brawls disturb the street,

There should be peace at home; Where sisters dwell and brothers meet

Quarrels should never come. Birds in their little nests agree;

And 'tis a shameful sight, When children of one family

Fall out, and chide, and fight.

Hard names at first, and threat'ning

words, That are but noisy breath, May grow to clubs and naked swords,

To murder, and to death.
The devil tempts one mother's son

To rage against another;
So wicked Cain was hurried on

Till he had kill'd bis brother.
The wise will let their anger cool,

At least before 'tis night; But, in the bosom of a fool,

It burns till morning light. Pardon, O Lord, our childish rage,

Our little brawls remove; That, as we grow to riper age,

Our hearts may all be love.

13. The All-seeing God. Almighty God, thy piercing eye

Strikes thro’ the shades of night;
And our most secret actions lie

All open to thy sight.
There's not a sin that we commit,

Nor wicked word we say,

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