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In conversation be sincere,

Keep conscience as the noontide clear; Think how all-seeing God thy ways And all thy secret thoughts surveys.

By influence of the light divine,
Let thy own light to others shine;
Reflect all heav'n's propitious rays
In ardent love and cheerful praise.

Wake, and lift up thyself, my heart,
And with the angels bear thy part,
Who all night long unwearied sing
High praise to th' eternal King.

I wake, I wake!—ye heavenly choir,
May your devotion me inspire;
That I like you my age may spend,
Like you may on my God attend.

May I, like you, in God delight,
Have all day long my God in sight,
Perform, like you, my Maker's will-
O, may I never more do ill!

Had I your wings, to heav'n I'd fly;
But God shall that defect supply,
And my soul, wing'd with warm desire,
Shall all day long to heav'n aspire.

All praise to thee, who safe hast kept,
And hast refresh'd me whilst I slept.
Grant, Lord, when I from death shall wake,
I may of endless light partake.

I would not wake, nor rise again,
Even heav'n itself I would disdain,
Wert not thou there to be enjoy'd,
And I in hymns to be employ'd.

Heav'n is, dear Lord, where'er thou art;
O, never then from me depart;

For to my soul 'tis hell to be

But for one moment void of thee.

Lord, I my vows to thee renew;

Disperse my sins as morning dew;

Guard my first springs of thought and will,

And with thyself my spirit fill.

Direct, control, suggest, this day,

All I design, or do, or say;

That all my pow'rs, with all their might,

In thy sole glory may unite.

Praise God, from whom all blessings flow;
Praise Him, all creatures here below ;
Praise Him above, ye heav'nly host;
Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost.



Noon-day Hymn [the Labourer's].

Up to the throne of God is borne
The voice of praise at early morn;
And he accepts the punctual hymn,
Sung as light of day grows dim.

Nor will he turn his ear aside
From holy off'rings at noon-tide;
Then here reposing, let us raise
A song of gratitude and praise.

What though our burden be not light,
We need not toil from morn to night:
The respite of the mid-day hour
Is in the thankful creature's pow'r.

Blest are the moments, doubly blest, That, drawn from this one hour of rest, Are with a ready heart bestow'd

Upon the service of our God!

Why should we crave a hallow'd spot?
An altar is in each man's cot;

A church in ev'ry grove that spreads
Its living roof above our heads.

Look up to heav'n!-the industrious sun Already half his race has run;

He cannot halt or go astray

But our immortal spirits may.

Lord, since his rising in the east,
If we have falter'd or transgress'd,
Guide, from thy love's abundant source,
What yet remains of this day's course:

Help with thy grace, through life's short day,
Our upward and our downward day;

And glorify for us the west,

When we shall sink to final rest.


Evening Hymn.

ALL praise to thee, my God, this night,
For all the blessings of the light;
Keep me, O keep me, King of kings,
Beneath thy own almighty wings!

Forgive me, Lord, for thy dear Son,
The ill that I this day have done;
That with the world, myself, and thee,
I, ere I sleep, at peace may be.

may dread

Teach me to live, that I
The grave as little as my bed;
To die, that this vile body may
Rise glorious at the awful day.

Oh! may my soul on thee repose,

And may sweet sleep mine eyelids close-
Sleep, that may me more vig'rous make,
To serve my God when I awake.

When in the night I sleepless lie,
My soul with heav'nly thoughts supply;
Let no ill dreams disturb my rest,
No pow'rs of darkness me molest.

Dull sleep!—of sense me to deprive ;
I am but half my time alive :
Thy faithful lovers, Lord, are griev'd,
To lie so long of thee bereav'd.

But though sleep o'er my frailty reigns,
Let it not hold me long in chains;
And now and then let loose my heart,
Till it an hallelujah dart.

The faster sleep the senses binds,
The more unfetter'd are our minds :
O may my soul, from matter free,
Thy loveliness unclouded see.

O when shall I, in endless day,
For ever chase dark sleep away;
And hymns with the supernal choir
Incessant sing, and never tire?

O may my guardian, while I sleep,
Close to my bed his vigils keep;
His love angelical instil,

Stop all the avenues of ill.

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