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LORD, I have pass’d another day,
And come to thank thee for thy care ; Forgive my faults in work and play,
And listen to my ev'ning pray'r,
Thy favour gives my daily bread,
And friends, who all my wants supply ; And safely aow I rest my head,
Preserv'd and guarded by thine eye.
Look down in pity, and forgive
Whate'er I've said or done amiss, And help me every day I live,
To serve thee better than in this,
Now, while I speak, be pleas'd to take
A belpless child beneath thy care ; And condescend, for Jesus' sake,
To listen to my ev’ning prayer.
A CHILD'S GRAVE.
What is this little grassy mound,
Where pretty daisies bloom ? What is there lying under ground ?
It is an infant's tomb,
Alas! poor baby, did it die ?
How dismal that must be !
Seems very sad to me.
Silence, my child; for could we hear
This happy baby's voice,
But triumph and rejoice.
“O do not ever weep for me,”
The happy soul would say ; “ Nor grieve, dear child, that I am free
From that poor sleeping clay.
“ Mourn not because my feeble breath
Was stopp'd as soon as giv’n : There's nothing terrible in death,
To those who come to Heaven,
“ No sin, no sorrow, no complaints,
My pleasures here destroy :
And endless is our Joy.
“ While with the spirits of the just,
My Saviour I adore,
That now can weep no more.”
THE LORD'S PRAYER.
Father of all, we bow to thee,
Who dwell'st in heaven ador'd, But present still through all thy works,
The universal Lord.
For ever hallow'd be thy name
By all beneath the skies; Ard may thy kingdom still advance,
Till grace to glory rise.
A grateful homage may we yield,
With hearts resign'd to thee; And as in heaven thy will is done,
On earth so let it be.
From day to day we humbly own
The hand that feeds us still : Give us our bread, and make us rest
Contented in thy will.
Our sins before thee we confess;
Oh may they be forgiv'n; As we to others mercy show,
We mercy beg from heav'n.
Still let thy grace our life direct,
From evil guard our way, And in temptation's fatal path
Permit us not to stray,
For tbine's the pow'r, the kingdom thine,
All glory's due to thee ; Thine from eternity they were,
And thine shall ever be.
OUR FATHER WHO ART IN HEAVEN.
GREAT God, and wilt thou condescend
Art thou my Father ?-canst thou bear
Art thou my Father?-let me be
Art thou my Father ?-.then, at last,
In the soft season of thy youth,
In nature's smiling bloom,
Its summons to the tomb
Remember thy Creator, God;
For him thy pow'rs employ;
Thy confidence, thy joy.
He shall defend and guide thy course
Through life's uncertain sea, Till thou art landed on the shore
Of bless'd eternity.
Then seek the Lord betimes, and choose
The path of heav'nly truth ;
Than a religious youth.
How happy is the child that hears
Instruction's warning voice; And who celestial Wisdom makes
His early, only choice!