A MORNING HYMN.

God of the morning! at whose voice

The cheerful sun makes haste to rise,
· And, rob’d in splendour, doth rejoice
To run his journey through the skies;

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Oh ! like the sun, may we fulfil
Th’ appointed duties of the day;
With ready mind, and active will,
March on, and keep our heav'nly way.

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LORD ! thy commands are right and pure,
Enlightning our beclouded eyes;
Thy threat'nings just, thy promise sure :
Thy gospel makes the simple wise.

IV Be thou, O GOD! our guide and strength Till we arrive at heav'nly bliss; All our desires and hopes beside, Are vanity, compar'd with this.

THE TRUE WAY TO FLEASE GOD.

Wherewith shall we approach thee, LORD!

And bow. before thy throne ? Or, how procure thy kind regard,

And for our guilt atone ?

Shall altars flame, and victims bleed,

And spicy fumes ascend?
Will these, our earnest wish succeed,

And make our GOD our friend?

Oh! no, great GOD! 'twere fruitless all,

Such off'rings are in vain :
No fatlings from the field or stall,
Thy favour can obtain.

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To men their rights we must allow,

And proofs of kindness give ;
To thee with humble rev'rence bow,
And to thy glory live.

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Hands that are clean, and hearts sincere,

Our God will ne'er despise ;: And cheerful duty will prefer

To costly sacrifice.

If solid happiness we prize,
Within our breasts this jewel lies,

And they are fools who roam :-
The world has little to bestow;
From our own selves our joys must flow,

Our bliss begins at home.

II

To be resign'd, when ills betide,
Patient, when favours are deny’d,
. And pleas'd with favours givin :
This, gracious GOD ! is wisdom's part,
This is that incense of the heart,

Whose fragrance reaches heav'n.

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Thus thro'life's changing scenes we'll go,
Its chequer'd paths of joy and woe

With cautious steps we'll tread;
Quit its vain scenes without a tear,
Without a trouble or a fear,
And mingle with the dead :

IV
While conscience, like a faithful friend,
Shall through the gloomy vale attend,

And cheer our dying breath ;
Shall, when all other comforts cease,
Like a kind angel, whisper peace,

And smooth the bed of death.

OBEDIENCE IS BETTER THAN SACRIFICE.

I

Thussaith the LORD, “The spacious fields,

« And flocks and herds are mine ; « O'er all the cattle of the hills

“ I claim a right divine.

II

“ I ask no sheep for sacrifice,

« Nor bullocks burnt with fire ; “ To hope and love, to pray and praise,

“ Is all that I require.

III

“Call upon me when trouble's near,

“My hand shall set thee free; “ Then shall thy grateful lips declare

«« The honour due to me.

IV

INVITATIONS OF MERCY.

I

Come! said Jesus' sacred voice,
Come and make my paths your choic :
I will guide you to your home ;
Weary pilgrim! hither come!

II

Thou, who houseless, sole, forlorn, Long hast borne the proud world's scorn, Long hast roam'd the barren waste, Weary pilgrim, hither haste !

III

Ye who, tost on beds of pain,
Seek for ease, but seek in vain ;
Ye, whose swoln and sleepless eyes
Watch to see the morning rise :

IV

Ye, by fiercer anguish torn,
In strong remorse for guilt who mourn,
Here repose your heavy care :
A wounded spirit who can bear?

Sinner, come! for here is found
Balm that flows for ev'ry wound ;
Peace that ever shall endure,
Rest eternal, sacred, sure.