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508. C. M.

HEGIN BOTHAM. Comfort in Sickness and Death. 1 When sickness shakes the languid frame,

Each dazzling pleasure flies; Phantoms of bliss no more obscure

Our long-deluded eyes.
2 The tottering frame of mortal life

Shall crumble into dust;
Nature shall faint--but learn, my soul,

On nature's God to trust.

3 The man whose pious heart is fixed

On his all-gracious God,
In every frown may comfort find,

And kiss the chastening rod.

4 Nor him shall death itself alarm;

On heaven his soul relies;
With joy he views his Maker's love,
And with composure


509. C. M. EXETER COL.

Wonderful Formation of Man.
1 When I with curious eyes survey

My complicated frame,
I read on every part inscribed

My great Creator's name.
2 Why was my body formed erect,

Whilst brutes bow down to earth, But that iny soul should learn to kuow And claim its nobler birth?

3 Author of life, my tongue shall sing

The wonders of my frame;
Long as I breathe, and think, and speak,

I'll praise thy glorious name.

510. 10s. M. SIR JOHN DAVIES.

Dignity of Human Nature.
1 Oh! what is man, great Maker of mankind !

That thou to him so great respect dost bear!
That thou adorn'st him with so bright a mind,

Mak’st him a king, and e'en an angel's peer! 2 Oh! what a lively life, what heavenly power,

What spreading virtue, what a sparkling fire,
How great, how plentiful, how rich a dower

Dost thou within this dying flesh inspire !
3 Nor hast thou given these blessings for a day,

Nor made them on the body's life depend:
The soul, though made in time, survives foraye;
And though it hath beginning, sees no end.



Old Age anticipated.
1 WHEN in the vale of lengthened years

My feeble feet shall tread,
And I survey the various scenes

Through which I have been led; 2 How many mercics will my life

Before my view unfold !
What countless dangers will be past,

What tales of sorrow told !


3 But yet, my soul ! if thou canst say

I've seen my God in all;
In every blessing owned his hand,

In every loss his call;
4 If piety has marked my steps,

And love my actions formed,
And purity possessed my heart,

And truth my lips adorned : 5 If I an aged servant am

Of Jesus and of God,
I need not fear the closing scene,

Nor dread the appointed road.
6 This scene will all my labors end;

This road conduct on high ;
With comfort I'll review the past,

And triumph though I die.


Memory of the Past. 1 How blest is he whose tranquil mind,

When life declines, recalls again
The years that time has cast behind,

And reaps delight from toil and pain. 2 So, when the transient storm is past,

The sudden gloom and driving shower,
The sweetest sunshine is the last;
The loveliest is the evening hour.


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513. 7s. M. J. NEWTON.

At Parling.
1 As the sun's enlivening eye

Shines on every place the same;
So the Lord is always nigh

To the souls that love his name. 2 When they move at duty's call,

He is with them by the way;
He is ever with them all,

Those who go, and those who stay. 3 From his holy mercy-seat

Nothing can their souls confine;
Still in spirit they may meet,

And in sweet communion join. 4 For a season called to part,

Let us then ourselves commend
To the gracious eye and heart

Of our ever-present Friend.
5 Father, hear our humble prayer !

Tender shepherd of thy sheep,
Let thy mercy and thy care

All our souls in safety keep.
6 In thy strength may we be strong,

Sweeten every cross and pain;
Give us, if we live, ere long,
Here to nieet in peace again.



The Christian Farewell. 1 The presence, everlasting God!

Wide o'er all nature spreads abroad : Thy watchful eyes, which cannot sleep,

In every place thy children keep. 2 While near each other we remain,

Thoy dost our lives and souls sustain;
When separate, happy if we share

Thy smiles, thy counsels, and thy care. 3 To thee we all our ways commit,

And seek our comforts near thy feet;
Still on our souls vouchsafe to shine,

And guard and guide us still as thine. 4 Give us, in thy beloved house,

Again to pay our grateful vows;
Or, if that joy no more be known,
Give us to meet around thy throne.


Death of an Infant. 1 As the sweet flower that scents the morn,

But withers in the rising day;
Thus lovely was this infant's dawn,

Thus swiftly fled its life away. 2 It died ere its expanding soul

Had ever burnt with wrong desires,
Had ever spurned at Heaven's control,
Or ever quenched its sacred fires.

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