But, sweet Benevolence, regale me well

With those cheap pleasures and light cares of thine,

And meek-eyed Piety, be always near,

With calm Content, and Gratitude sincere.

Rescued from cities, and forensic strife,

And walking well with GOD in nature's eye, Blest with fair children, and a faithful wife,

Love at my board, and friendship dwelling nigh,
Oh thus to wear away my useful life,

And, when I'm called, in rapturous hope to die,
Thus to rob heav'n of all the good I can,
And challenge earth to show a happier man!

Where is each beart-winning way,

Thy prattle, and innocent play!
Alas, they are gone.

And left me alone

To weep for them night and day:

Yet why should I linger behind!
Kill me too,-death most kind:
Where can I go

To meet thy blɔw

And my sweet babe to find!

I know it, I rave half-wild!

But who can be calm and mild
When the deep heart

Is riven apart

Over a dear dead child?

I know it, I should not speak

So boldly, I ought to be meek,
But love, it is strong;

And my spirit is wrong,—
Help me, my GOD! I am weak !

TRUST.

"My times are in thy hand."

YET will I trust! in all my fears,
Thy mercy, gracious Lord, appears,
To guide me through this vale of tears,
And be my strength;

Thy mercy guides the ebb and flow
Of health and joy, or pain and woe,
To wean my heart from all below

To Thee at length.

Yes,-welcome pain,-which Thou hast sent,

Yes,-farewell blessings,-Thou hast lent,

With Thee alone I rest content,

For Thou art Heav'n,—