Who, from each flower and tender stalk, Gather'd a honied store of talk, To fill the long, delightful walk ? My Father. Not on an insect would he tread, My Father. Who wrote upon that heart the line My Father. Who, now, in pale and placid light 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 Soon, as I hope, at Mercy's seat, My Father. THE SUN, A MONITOR. My God, thou mak'st the sun to know And, to give light to all below, Dost send him round the skies. When from the chambers of the East So, like the sun, would I fulfil Give me, O Lord, thy early grace, FERVENT PRAYER. TEACH me to pray, and let my pray'r Assist the off'rings of my heart Perpetual blessings from above What have I done for him that died, How are my follies multiplied, Fast as my minutes roll! Lord, turn this guilty heart of mine, And to thy love my soul resign, Meet me, I pray, with words of peace, That from my folly I may cease, IMPLORING DIVINE GUIDANCE. BE with me, Lord, where'er I go; Prevent me, lest I harbour pride, SUBMISSION. IF I am right, thy grace impart, If I am wrong, oh teach my heart Save me alike from foolish pride,. At aught thy goodness has denied, Teach me to feel another's woe, That mercy I to others show, Mean though I am, not wholly sos This day be bread and peace my lot, Thou know'st if best bestow'd or not, And let thy will be done. PRAISE TO GOD PRAISE to God, immortal praise,. For the blessings of the field, Flocks that whiten all the plain, All that spring, with bounteous hand, |