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Musing in the silent grove,
Or the busy walks of men,
Still we trace thy wondrous love,

Claiming large returns again. 2 Lord, what offering shall we bring,

At thine altars when we bow?
Hearts, the pure unsullied spring,
Whence the kind affections flow;
Soft compassion's feeling soul,
By the melting eye expressed;
Sympathy, at whose control

Sorrow leaves the wounded breast; 3 Willing hands to lead the blind,

Bind the wounded, feed the poor ;
Love, embracing all our kind,
Charity, with liberal store:
Teach us, 0 thou heavenly Kings
Thus to show our grateful mind,
Thus the accepted offering bring,
Love to thee and all mankind.

345. L. M. DRUMMOND.

Faith without Works is dead.
1 As body when the soul has fled,

As barren trees, decayed and dead,
Is faith; a hopeless, lifeless thing,

If not of righteous deeds the spring. 2 One cup of healing oil and wine,

One tear-drop shed on mercy's shrine, Is thrice more grateful, Lord, to thee, Than lifted eye or bended knee.

3 To doers only of the word, Propitious is the righteous Lord

; He hears their cries, accepts their prayers,

And heals their wounds, and soothes their cares. 4 In true and genuine faith, we trace

The source of every christian grace;
Within the pious heart it plays,

A living fount of joy and praise.
5 Kind deeds of peace and love betray

Where'er the stream has found its way;
But where these spring not rich and fair,
The stream has never wandered there.

346. L. M.

WATTS.
All Things vain without Love.
1 HAD I the tongues of Greeks and Jews,

And nobler speech than angels use,
If love be absent, I am found

Like tinkling brass, an empty sound. 2 Were I inspired to preach and tell

All that is done in heaven and hell;
Or could my faith the world remove,

Still I am nothing without love. 3 Should I distribute all my store,

To feed the cravings of the poor;
Or give my body to the flame,

To gain a martyr's glorious name;
4 If love to God and love to men

Be absent, all my hopes are vain :
Nor tongues, nor gifts, nor fiery zeal,
The works of love can e'er fulbl.

347. C. M. CHRISTIAN PSALMIST,

Faith, Hope and Charity. 1 Faith, hope, and love now dwell on earth,

And earth by them is blest ;
But faith and hope must yield to love,

Of all the graces best.
2 Hope shall to full fruition rise,

And faith be sight above;
These are the means, but this the end,

For saints forever love.

848.
C. M.

Roscoe.
The two great Commandments.
1 This is the first and great command-

To love thy God above;
And this the second-as thyself

Thy neighbor thou shalt love. 2 Who is my neighbor ? He who wants

The help which thou canst give;
And both the law and prophets say,

This d, and thou shalt live.

284

CONFESSION AND PENITENCE.

249. 7s. M. J. TAYLOR.

Sins Confessed and Mourned. 1 God of mercy, God of love,

Hear our sad repentant song;
Sorrow dwells on every face,

Penitence on every tongue. 2 Deep regret for follies past,

Talents wasted, time misspent;
Hearts debased by worldly cares,

Thankless for the blessings lent; 3 Foolish fears, and fond desires,

Vain regrets for things as vain; :
Lips too seldom taught to praise,

Oft to murmur and complain : 4 These, and every secret fault,

Filled with grief and shame, we own;
Humbled at thy feet we lie,

Seeking pardon from thy throne. 5 God of mercy, God of grace,

Hear our sad repentant songs;
O restore thy suppliant race,
Thou to whom all praise belongs.

350. L. M. BEDDOME.

Inconstancy lamented. 1 The wandering star and fleeting wind

Are emblems of the fickle mind;
The morning cloud and early dew

Bring our inconstancy to view. 2 But cloud and wind, and dew and star,

Only a faint resemblance bear;
Nor can there aught in nature be

So changeable and frail as we.
3 Our outward walk and in ward frame

Are scarcely through an hour the same; We vow, and straight our vows forget,

And then those very vows repeat. 4 With contrite hearts, Lord, we confess

Our folly and unsteadfastness;
When shall these hearts more stable be,
Fixed by thy grace alone on thee!

351. C. M. CowPER.

Human Frailty.
I WEAK and irresolute is man:

The purpose of to-day,
Woven with pains into his plan,

To-morrow rends away.
2 Some foe to his upright intent

Finds out his weaker part;
Virtue engages his assent,

But pleasure wins his heart.

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