SONG VII.

A Summer Evening.

How fine has the day been, how bright was the sun!

How lovely and joyful the course that he run!

Tho' he rose in a mist when his race he begun,

And there follow'd some droppings of rain;

But, now the fair traveller's come to the west,

His rays are all gold, and his beauties are best,

He paints the sky gay, as he sinks to his rest,

And foretels a bright rising again.

Just such is the Christian: his course he begins

Like the sun in a mist, while he mourns for his sins,

And melts into tears, then he breaks out and shines,

And travels his heav'nly way :

But when he comes nearer to finish his race,

Like a fine setting sun he looks richer in grace,

And gives a sure hope at the end of his days

Of rising in brighter array.

HUSH, my dear, lie still and slumber; Holy angels guard thy bed! Heav'nly blessings without number Gently falling on thy head.

F

Sleep, my babe, thy food and raiment,
House and home, thy friends provide;
All without thy care or payment,
All thy wants are well supply'd.

How much better thou 'rt attended
Than the Son of God could be,
When from heaven he descended,
And became a child like thee?

Soft and easy is thy cradle;
Coarse and hard thy Saviour lay,
When his birth-place was a stable,
And his softest bed was hay.

Blessed babe! what glorious features!
Spotless, fair, divinely bright!
Must he dwell with brutal creatures?
How could angels bear the sight?

Was there nothing but a manger,
Cursed sinners could afford,
To receive the heav'nly stranger?
Did they thus affront the Lord?

Soft, my child, I did not chide thee,
Tho' my song might sound too hard:

'Tis thy mother* sits beside thee, And her arms shall be thy guard.

Yet to read the shameful story

How the Jews abus'd their King, How they serv'd the Lord of glory, Makes me angry while I sing.

See the kinder shepherds round him, Telling wonders from the sky! Where they sought him, there they found him,

With his Virgin-Mother by.

See the lovely babe a-dressing,
Lovely infant, how he smil'd!
When he wept, the mother's blessing
Sooth'd and hush'd the holy child.

Lo! he slumbers in his manger,
Where the horned oxen fed:
Peace, my darling! here's no danger,
Here's no ox a-near thy bed.

* Here you may use the word brother, sister, neighbour, &c.