begun to revive and quicken him again, go on to perfect his cure, and visit him, in the mean time, with Thy heavenly consolation from above. Fill him with comfortable thoughts of Thy love, and of the tender compassionate care which our Lord Jesus promises to all Thy afflicted servants. Endue him still with more patient submission, and enable him both quietly to wait upon Thee, till Thou hast finished his recovery, and also to continue steadfastly resolved to serve Thee more faithfully with his renewed strength; through Jesus Christ our blessed Saviour. Amen. IX. On occasion of recovery from sickness. [From Rev. J. S. Porter.] GIVER and Preserver of Life! we desire with grateful hearts to celebrate Thy mercy to Thy servant, whom Thou hast been pleased to raise up from sickness, and restore to health and strength. Blessed be thy name, for Thou hast heard our voices when we cried unto Thee, and hast granted our prayer. O Father, may he henceforth employ in Thy service, those powers which Thou hast originally bestowed, and dost continually preserve, and may we be enabled to show our thankfulness, by a cheerful and uniform compliance with Thy will, and by a persevering fulfilment of all our various duties. In health and in sickness, in sorrow and in joy, in life and in death, may we remember Thee, and be Thou our consolation and great reward. All our prayers we present at Thy throne in the name and as disciples of Jesus Christ, and through him we ascribe unto Thee all power and glory for ever and ever. Amen. PSALMS AND HYMNS. POETRY is music to the soul; and as music hath charms to soothe the troubled breast, so hath poetry to solace and refresh the weary spirit: while, therefore, those who look for returning health are in their hearts singing for joy, at the new life and strength which are being infused into their trembling frames, not less will the Poet's ethereal strain be welcome to those whose sickness is a sickness unto death, for they may in truth take up the fabled language of the dying swan: "I sing now, for I die, my fetters leaving,- PSALM XXIII. THE Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: He leadeth me beside the still waters. He restoreth my soul: He leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for His name's sake. Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil : for Thou art with me; Thy rod and Thy staff they comfort me. Thou Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies : anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life and I will dwell in the house of the Lord for ever. PSALM XXXIX. I SAID, I will take heed to my ways, that I sin not with my tongue : I was dumb with silence, I held my peace, even from good; and my sorrow was stirred. My heart was hot within me, while I was musing the fire burned: then spake I with my tongue, Lord, make me to know mine end, and the measure of my days, what it is; that I may know how frail I am. Behold, Thou hast made my days as an handbreadth; and mine age is as nothing before Thee: verily every man at his best state is altogether vanity. Surely every man walketh in a vain shew surely they are disquieted in vain : he heapeth up riches, and knoweth not who shall gather them. And now, Lord, what wait I for? my hope is in Thee. |