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, Or strike the stinging nettle dead; Who taught at once my heart and head? 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; 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 ; My Father Soon, as I hope, at Mercy's seat, Thee, with what transports shall I greet! 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 He never tires, nor stops to rest, So, like the sun, would I fulfil Give me, O Lord, thy early grace, That the young morning of my days FERVENT PRAYER. TEACH me to pray, and let my pray's To reach the lofty skies. Perpetual blessings from above But oh! how few returns of love What have I done for him that died, From sin to save my soul? How are my follies multiplied, Lord, turn this guilty heart of mine, That I to thee may flee, And to thy love my soul resign, To be renew'd by thee. Meet me, I pray, with words of peace, IMPLORING DIVINE GUIDANCE. BE with me, Lord, where'er I go; Suggest whate'er I think or say; SUBMISSION. IF I am right, thy grace impart Save me alike from foolish pride,. At aught thy goodness has denied, Teach me to feel another's woe, To hide the fault I see; That mercy I to others show, That mercy show to me. 2 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, All that spring, with bounteous hand, |