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XXXIII. Coveper

GOD moves in a mysterious way
His wonders to perform;

He plants his footsteps in the sea,
And rides upon the storm.

Deep in unfathomable mines
Of never-failing skill

He treasures up his bright designs,
And works his sovereign will.

Ye fearful saints, fresh courage take;
The clouds ye so much dread
Are big with mercy, and shall break
In blessings on your head.

Judge not the Lord by feeble sense,
But trust him for his grace;

Behind a frowning providence
He hides a smiling face.

His purposes will ripen fast,
Unfolding every hour;

The bud may have a bitter taste,

But sweet will be the flower.

Blind unbelief is sure to err,
And scan his work in vain;
God is his own interpreter,
And he will make it plain.

XXXIV. Buily Taylor

THOU, whose benignant eye
In mercy looks on all,

Who see'st the tear of misery,
And hear'st the mourner's call;

Up to thy dwelling-place

Bear our frail spirits on,

Till they outstrip time's tardy pace,
And heaven on earth be won.

XXXV.

124. Jeremy Taylor

FULL of mercy, full of love,

Look upon us from above;
Let thy mercy teach one brother
To forgive and love another;
That, copying thy mercy here,
Thy goodness may hereafter rear
Our souls into thy glory, when

Our dust shall cease to be with men.

XXXVI. Mrs. Hemans

LOWLY and solemn be

Thy children's cry to thee,
Father divine!

A hymn of suppliant breath,
Owning that life and death
Alike are thine!

O Father! in that hour

When earth all succouring power

Shall disavow;

When spear, and shield, and crown, In faintness are cast down;

Sustain us, Thou!

By Him who bowed to take
The death-cup for our sake,
The thorn, the rod;
From whom the last dismay

Was not to pass away;
Aid us, O God!

Tremblers beside the grave,

We call on thee to save,

Father divine!

Hear, hear our suppliant breath,

Keep us in life and death,

Thine, only thine!

XXXVII.

Bouring

As when the deluge-waves were gone,

Hills, plains, and vales in freshness burst; And nature's earliest rainbow shone

On scenes more lovely than the first;

Loosed from the ark, a heavenly dove
The promise-branch of olive bore,—
Pledge of returning peace and love,

That beamed more brightly than before ;—

So, when affliction's waters glide
From the enfranchised soul away,
More peaceful, pure, and sanctified,
The soul emerges into day.

And then, as with the olive-bough
The heavenly dove of old drew near,
Some gentle words of truth will flow
In holy music on the ear.

O'er all the transient things of time
The oblivious foot of years hath trod;

But all that's sacred and sublime

Stands stedfast as the truth of God,

XXXVIII.

OUT of the depths

Have I called unto thee, O Lord;
Lord, hear my voice;

Let thine ear be attentive

To the voice of my supplication.
If thou, Lord, shouldst mark iniquity,
O Lord, who shall stand?
But with thee is forgiveness,

That thou mayest be feared.
I wait for the Lord,

My soul doth wait;

And in his word do I hope.

I wait for the Lord

More than they who watch for the morning.

XXXIX. Sei Walta Scott

WHEN Israel, of the Lord beloved,
Out from the land of bondage came,
Her father's God before her moved,
An awful guide, in smoke and flame.
By day, along the astonished lands
The cloudy pillar glided slow;
By night, Arabia's crimsoned sands
Returned the fiery column's glow.

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