This world is all enchanted ground,
Thou art gone to the grave,

Thou dear Redeemer, dying Lamb,
Thou, God, art a consuming fire,
Thou God of glorious majesty,

Thou hidden love of God, whose height,
Thou, Lord, hast bless'd my going out,
Thou, who didst for Peter's faith,
Thou wretched man of sorrow,
Though I have grieved thy Spirit, Lord,
Thousands of thousands stand around,
Through sorrow's night and danger's path,
Thus far on life's perplexing path,
Thus, Lord, throughout my life would 1,
Thus saith the Lord, "My Church, to Thee,"
Thy ceaseless, unexhausted love,
Thy humblest works, with full accord,
Thy mansion is the Christian's heart,
Thy throne, O God, in righteousness,
Thy ways, O Lord, with wise design,
Thy word, Almighty Lord,
Time by moments steals away,
Times without number I have pray'd,
'Tis a point I long to know,
'Tis enough, the hour is come,
'Tis God the Spirit leads,
To Adam thus Jehovah spake,
To God, must awful and most high,
To God the only wise,

To-morrow, Lord, is thine,

To Thee, O God, my prayers ascends,
To thy temple I repair,

To us the voice of wisdom cries,
Tremble, ye families profane,

Trembling with tenderest alarms,

U

Unveil thy bosom, faithful tomb,

W

Watch'd by the world's malignant eye,
Weep, weep not o'er thy children's tomb,
We bid Thee welcome in the name,
We covenant with hand and heart,
Welcome, sweet day of rest,
We seek a rest beyond the skies,
What are these in bright array,
What a rapturous song,

What is the chaff? the word of man,
What is the thing of greatest price,
What is the world? a wildering maze,
What joy or honour could we have,
What must it be to dwell above,
What secret hand, at morning light,
What shall I render to my God,
What shall we ask of God in prayer,
What various lovely characters,

When floods of grief assault the mind,

Beddome, 171

302

When gathering clouds around I view,
When groves by moonlight silence keep,

When heaves with sighs my anxious breast,
When I can read my title clear,
When in the hours of lonely wo,
When Israel press'd by Pharaoh stood,
When Jesus left his Father's throne,
When languor and disease invade,
When like a stranger on our sphere,
When marshall'd on the nightly plain,
When musing sorrow weeps the past,
When, O dear Jesus, when shall
When on Sinai's top I see,

When on the margin of the grave,

When poison spreading through their veins,
When quiet in my house I sit,

When restless on my bed I lie,
When the vale of death appears,

When those who fear'd the Lord of old,
When through the torn sail,

When war on earth suspended,

Where are the dead? In heaven or hell,

Where high the heavenly temple stands,
While Egypt lies enwrapt in night,
While saints and angels, glorious King,

While through this changing world we roam,
Who can describe the joys that rise,
Who is as the Christian great,
Who is the weak believer, who,
Why do we mourn departing friends,
Why is my heart so far from Thee,
Why should I fear the darkest hour,
Why will ye lavish out your years,
Why should the children of a King,
With wandering Jacob let us say,
With Thee, I lay me down to sleep,
Within these walls be peace, .
Witness, ye men and angels now,
Words of eternal life to me,
Worthy, O Lord, art Thou,

Y

Ye hearts with youthful vigour warm,
Ye trembling souls, dismiss your fears,
Ye virgin souls, arise,

Yes, the Redeemer rose,

Watts, 299
Conder, 311
M. 431

M. 437

Toplady, 308
M. 432

H. K. White, 245
Noel, 289

M. 168

M. 406

You now must hear my voice no more,
Your harps, ye trembling saints,

Topiady, 347

thoughts, speak their dialects, feel their emotions, but our own thoughts are refined, our scanty language is enriched, our common feelings are elevated; and, though we may never attain their standard, yet, by keeping company with them, we shall rise above our own, as trees growing in the society of a forest, are said to draw each other up into shapely and stately proportion, while field and hedge-row stragglers, exposed to all weathers, never reach their full stature, luxuriance, or beauty. In the composition of hymns, men of wealthier imaginations, and happier utterance, may furnish to others of susceptible hearts, the means of bodying forth their own conceptions, which would otherwise be a burden to their minds, or die in the birth, without the joy of deliverance. The most illiterate person, who understands his Bible, will easily understand the most elegant or emphatic expression of all the feelings which are common to all; and, instead of being passive under them, when they are excited at particular seasons, he will avail himself of the songs put into his mouth, and sing them with gladness and refreshment, as if they were his own. Then, though, like Milton's, his genius can ascend to the heaven of heavens, or like Shakespeare's, search out the secrets of Nature, through all her living combina tions,—blessed is the bard who employs his resources thus; who, from the fulness of his own bosom, pours his divinest thoughts, in his selectest words, into the bosoms of his readers, and enables them to appropriate the rich communications to their personal exigencies, without robbing him, or hindering others from partak ing of the same abundant fountain of human inspiration,—a fountain flowing, like the oil, at the command