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Let me but feel him near,

Death's gloomy pass in view,
I'll walk without a fear

The shadowy valley through:
With rod and staff, my Shepherd's care
Will guide my steps, and guard me there.
Still is my table spread;

My foes stand silent by;
I feed on living bread;

My cruse is never dry:
And surely love and mercy will
Attend me on my journey still.
Still hope and grateful praise

Shall form my constant song ;
Shall cheer my gloomiest days,

And tune my dying tongue:
Until my ransom'd soul shall rise,
To praise him better in the skies.



A Nor choose my way.

will I


Let him choose the joy or woe

Of every day:
They cannot hurt my soul,
Because in his control:
I leave to him the whole,

His children may.
As God leads me, I am still

Within his hand :
Though his purpose my self-will

Doth oft withstand.

Yet I wish that none
But his will be done,
Till the end be won

That he hath plann'd.
As God leads, I am content;

He will take care !
All things by his will are sent

That I must bear.
To him I take my fear,
My wishes while I'm here ;
The way will all seem clear,

When I am there!
As God leads me, it is mine

To follow him ;
Soon all shall wonderfully shine,

Which now seems dim.
Fulfill'd be his decree!
What he shall choose for me,
That shall my portion be,

Up to the brim!
As God leads me, so my heart

In faith shall rest.
No grief nor fear my soul shall part

From Jesus' breast.
In sweet belief I know,
What way my life doth go-
Since God permitteth so-

That must be best. 137

S through this wilderness I stray,

way ;

No foes, no evil, need I fear,
If thou, my Lord, my God, art near.

When rising floods my soul o'erflow,
When sinks my strength in waves of woe,
Saviour, thy timely aid impart,
And raise my head, and cheer my heart.
Teach me, where'er thy steps I see,

Dauntless, untired, to follow thee;
O let thy hand support me still,
And lead me to thy holy hill.
If rough and thorny be the way,
My strength proportion to my day;
Till toil and grief and pain shall cease,
Where all is calm and joy and peace.

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THAT tho' no flowers the fig-tree clothe,

Tho' vines their fruit deny,
The labour of the olive fail,

And fields no meat supply:
Tho' from the fold, with sad surprise,

My flock cut off I see:
Tho' famine pine in empty stalls,

Where herds were wont to be :
Yet in the Lord will I be glad,

And glory in his love ;
In him I'll joy, who will the God

Of my salvation prove.
God is the treasure of my soul,

The source of lasting joy ;
A joy which want shall not impair,

Nor death itself destroy.


YALL Jehovah thy salvation ;

shade :

In his sacred habitation

Dwell, nor ever be afraid. There no tumult can alarm thee,

Thou shalt dread no hidden snare;
Guile nor violence can harm thee,

In eternal safeguard there.
From the sword at noonday wasting,

From the noisome pestilence,
In the depth of midnight blasting,

God will be thy sure defence:
Fear not then the deadly quiver,

Though a thousand feel the blow;
Mercy shall thy soul deliver,

Though ten thousand be laid low.
If with pure and firm affection

On God's laws be set thy love;
With the wings of his protection,

He will shield thee from above:
Thou shalt call when griefs oppress thee;

He will hearken, he will save;
Here with special favour bless thee,

Give thee life beyond the grave.

140 DAN

AY by day the manna fell ;

0! to learn this lesson well :
Still by constant mercy fed,
Give me, Lord, my daily bread.

Day by day, the promise reads ;
Daily strength for daily needs :
Cast foreboding fears away;
Take the manna of to-day.
Lord, my times are in thy hand,
All my sanguine hopes have plann'd,
To thy wisdom I resign,
And would make thy promise mine.
Thou my daily task shalt give :
Day by day to thee I live:
So shall added years fulfil,
Not mine own-my Father's will.
Fond ambition, whisper not;
Happy is my humble lot.
Anxious, busy cares, away!
I'm provided for to-day.
0! to live exempt from care
By the energy of prayer;
Strong in faith, with mind subdued,

Yet elate with gratitude. 141

LORD, how happy should we be,

If we could cast our care on thee,
If we from self could rest;
And feel, at heart, that one above,
In perfect wisdom, perfect love,

Is working for the best.
Could we but kneel and cast our load,
E’en while we pray, upon our God;

Then rise with lighten'd cheer,
Sure that the Father, who is nigh
To still the famish'd raven's cry,

Will hear in that we fear.


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