But when his sun no longer beams,
And love's sweet flowers decay;
When all hope's rainbow-coloured dreams
Are sadly swept away;
As flowers bent beneath the storm
Still fragrantly breathe on ;
So when dark clouds life's heaven deform,
He prays, "Thy will be done!"
And when the winter of his age
Sheds o'er his locks its snows;
When he can feel his pilgrimage
Fast drawing to a close:
Then, as he finds his strength decline,
This is his prayer alone:
"To thee my spirit I resign
Father thy will be done!"
"LIVE while you live," the thoughtless man will
And seize the pleasures of the present day
"Live while you live," the sacred preacher cries, "And give to God each moment as it flies." Lord! in my view let both united be,
I live to pleasure while I live to Thee.
THE RIGHTEOUS BLESSED IN DEATH.
How bless'd the righteous when he dies,
When sinks a weary soul to rest,
How mildly beam the closing eyes,
How gently heaves the expiring breast!
So fades a summer cloud away,
So sinks the gale when storms are o'er,
So gently shuts the eye of day,
So dies a wave along the shore.
A holy quiet reigns around,
A calm which life nor death destroys:
Nothing disturbs that peace profound,
Which his unfettered soul enjoys.
Farewell, conflicting hopes and fears,
Where lights and shades alternate dwell!
How bright the unchanging morn appears!
Farewell, inconstant world, farewell!
Life's duty done, as sinks the clay,
Light from its load the spirit flies;
While heaven and earth combine to say,
"How bless'd the righteous when he dies."
MRS. BARBAULD.
LORD of my life, whose tender care
Hath led me on till now,
Here lowly at the hour of prayer,
Before thy throne I bow;
I bless thy gracious hand, and pray
Forgiveness for another day.
Humbly, O Lord, I come to Thee,
Sinful before thee fall;
My Saviour's blood my only plea,
My life, my hope, my all;
Clothe me in the Redeemer's dress,
His spotless robe of righteousness.
I pray thy grace my wayward heart, From this vain world to free:
The riches of thy love impart
To live alone to thee;
Take me and claim me for thine own- ·
O make me thine, and thine alone.
O may I daily, hourly, strive
In heavenly grace to grow! To thee and to thy glory liveDead to all else below:
Tread in the path my Saviour trod,
Though thorny, yet the path to God:
With prayer, my humble praise I bring,
For mercies day by day:
Lord, teach my heart thy love to sing-
Lord, teach me how to pray,
All that I have, I am, to Thee
I offer through eternity.
Thou, blessed God, hast been my guide,
Through life my guard and friend;
And still throughout life's wearied tide
Preserve me to the end:
And when this life's sad journey's past,
Receive me to thyself at last.
In my Redeemer's name, for all
These blessings I implore;
Prostrate, O Lord, before thee fall,
And gratefully adore;
Look from thy throne of earth and skies,
And bless my evening sacrifice.
SOLDIER, go-but not to claim
Mouldering spoils of earth-born treasure, Not to build a vaunting name,
Not to dwell in tents of pleasure. Dream not that the way is smooth,
Hope not that the thorns are roses;
Turn no wishful eye of youth,
Where the sunny beam reposes;
Thou hast sterner work to do,
Hosts to cut thy passage through:
Close behind thee gulfs are burning-
Forward!-there is no returning.
Soldier, rest-but not for thee
Spreads the world her downy pillow:
On the rock thy couch must be,
While around thee chafes the billow:
Thine must be a watchful sleep,
Wearier than another's waking;
Such a charge as thou dost keep
Brooks no moment of forsaking,
Sleep, as on the battle-field,
Girded-grasping sword and shield:
Those thou canst not name or number,
Steal upon thy broken slumber.
Soldier, rise the war is done;
Lo, the hosts of hell are flying,
'Twas thy Lord the battle won;
Jesus vanquished them by dying.
Pass the stream-before thee lies
All the conquered land of glory;
Hark! what songs of rapture rise,
These proclaim the victor's story,
Soldier, lay thy weapons down,
Quit the sword, and take the crown;
Triumph all thy foes are banished,
Death is slain, and earth has vanished.
CHARLOTTE ELIZABETH.
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