No sad alarm my slumbers broke,
No terror, fear, or dread;

No sickness seized my tender frame,
Nor flames came round my bed.

Preserve me from all ill, I pray,
And guide me with Thine eye;
And grant that through the passing day
I may on Thee rely.

Lord, condescend to aid a child
To praise the Saviour's love;
Oh! let me live to Thee below,
And dwell with Thee above.

A CHILD'S MORNING HYMN.

THE morning bright,

With rosy light,

Has waked me from my sleep;

Father, I own,

Thy love alone

Thy little one doth keep.

All through the day,

I humbly pray,

Be Thou my guard and guide;

My sins forgive,

And let me live

Blest Jesus, near Thy side.

Oh! make Thy rest
Within my breast,
Great Spirit of all grace;
Make me like Thee,

Then shall I be

Prepared to see Thy face.

MORNING.

WHEN, streaming from the eastern skies,
The morning light salutes mine eyes,
O Sun of Righteousness divine!

On me with beams of mercy shine ;
Chase the dark clouds of sin away,

And turn my darkness into day.

When to heaven's great and glorious King My morning sacrifice I bring,

And, mourning o'er my guilt and shame,

Ask mercy, Saviour, in Thy name,
My conscience sprinkle with Thy blood,
And be my advocate with God.

As every day Thy mercy spares
Will bring its trials and its cares,
O Saviour! till my life shall end,
Be Thou my counsellor and friend.
Teach me Thy precepts, all divine,
And be Thy pure example mine.

When pain transfixes every part,
Or languor settles at the heart,
When on my bed, diseased, oppressed,
I turn and sigh, and long for rest,
O great Physician! see my grief,
And grant Thy servant sweet relief.

Should poverty's destructive blow-
Lay all my worldly comforts low.
And neither help nor hope appear
My steps to guide, my heart to cheer,
Lord, pity and supply my need,
For Thou on earth wast poor indeed.

Should Providence profusely pour
Its varied blessings on my store,
Oh! keep me from the ills that wait
On such a seeming prosperous state:
From hurtful passions set me free,
And humbly may I walk with Thee.

When each day's scenes and labors close,
And wearied nature seeks repose,
With pardoning mercy richly blest,
Guard me, my Saviour, while I rest;
And as each morning's sun shall rise,
Oh! lead me onward to the skies!
And at my life's last setting sun,
My conflicts o'er, my labors done,
Jesus, Thy heavenly radiance shed,
To cheer and bless my dying bed;
And from death's gloom, my spirit raise
To see Thy face and sing Thy praise.

A CHILD'S EVENING HYMN.

BEFORE I close my eyes in sleep,

Lord, hear my evening prayer; And deign a helpless child to keep With Thy protecting care.

Though young in years, I have been taught

Thy name to love and fear:

Of Thee to think with solemn thought,

Thy goodness to revere.

That goodness gives each simple flower

Its scent and beauty too,

And feeds it in night's darkest hour
With heaven's refreshing dew.

Nor will Thy mercy less delight

The infant's God to be,

Who through the darkness of the night
For safety trusts to Thee.

The little birds that sing all day

In many a leafy wood,

By Thee are clothed in plumage gay,
By Thee supplied with food.

And when at night they cease to sing,
By Thee protected still,

Their young ones sleep beneath their wing,

Secure from every ill.

Thus may'st Thou guard with gracious arm

The couch whereon I lie,

And keep a child from every harm

By Thy all-watchful eye.

For night and day to Thee are one,
The helpless are Thy care,
And for the sake of Thy dear Son,

Thou hear'st an infant's prayer.