What shall I do to spread Thy praise,
My God, thro' my remaining days?
Or how Thy name adore?
To Thee I consecrate my breath;
Let me be Thine in life and death,
And Thine for evermore.

And thro' a blest eternity

I'll raise a humble song to Thee,
In yon divine abode;

Oh hasten on the happy day;
Ye tedious hours, fly swift away,
And bring me to my God.

My thoughts with vast delight shall rove
O'er all the wonders of Thy love,-

A most divine employ ;

In Thee alone th' enlarged mind
Shall constant entertainment find,
And everlasting joy.

A BIRTH-DAY HYMN.

I MY Ebenezer raise

To my kind Redeemer's praise;
With a grateful heart I own,
Hitherto Thy help I've known.

As my years successive roll,
Still Thy goodness to my soul,
As a stream, for ever flows,
And no intermission knows.

May my constant study be,
While I live, to live to Thee;
Let it be my steady aim

Still to glorify Thy name.

What may be my future lot,
Well I know concerns me not:
This should set my heart at rest,—

What Thy will ordains is best.

Guard me, Saviour, by Thy power,
Guard me in the trying hour;
Let Thy unremitted care
Save me from the lurking snare.

On Thy bounty I rely,

That shall all my wants supply; Why should doubts my faith assail? Never will Thy promise fail.

Let my few remaining days Be directed to Thy praise; So the last, the closing scene Shall be tranquil and serene.

To Thy will I leave the rest : Grant me but this one request,Both in life and death to prove Tokens of Thy special love.

MRS. ANNE FLOWERDEW.

MRS. ANNE FLOWERDEW published by subscription, in 1803, a duodecimo volume, entitled "Poems on Moral and Religious Subjects." This work reached a second edition in 1804. In 1811, the volume was re-issued, with the addition of the "Harvest Hymn," which we have subjoined. Mrs. Flowerdew kept a boarding and educational establishment for young ladies, first at Islington, and afterwards at Bury St. Edmunds. In the preface to the first edition she writes, "The poems which are now presented to the public eye were written at different periods of life; some, indeed, at a very early age, and others under the severe pressure of misfortune, when my pen has frequently given that relief which could not be derived from other employments."

HARVEST HYMN.

FOUNTAIN of mercy, God of love!
How rich Thy bounties are!
The rolling seasons, as they move,
Proclaim Thy constant care.

When, in the bosom of the earth,

The sower hid the grain,

Thy goodness mark'd its secret birth,

And sent the early rain.

The spring's sweet influence, Lord, was Thine:

The plants in beauty grew ;

Thou gav'st refulgent suns to shine,

And mild, refreshing dew.

These various mercies from above
Matured the swelling grain;
A yellow harvest crowns Thy love,
And plenty fills the plain.

Seed-time and harvest, Lord, alone
Thou dost on man bestow;

Let him not then forget to own
From whom his blessings flow!

Fountain of love! our praise is Thine;
To Thee our songs we'll raise,

And all created nature join

In sweet, harmonious praise.

CHARLES LAWRENCE FORD.

CHARLES LAWRENCE FORD is the son of a distinguished artist in Bath. He was educated at Bath, and is B.A. of the University of London. Six hymns, from his pen, are inserted in the "Lya Anglicana," edited by the Rev. Robert H. Baynes. He has also contributed to Mr.

Baynes' collection of "English Lyrics."

MARAH.*

Exodus xv. 23.

GOD sends us bitter, that the sweet,
By absence known, may sweeter prove;
As dark for light,

as cold for heat

Brings greater love.

God sends us bitter, as to show

He can both sweet and bitter send;
That both the might and love we know
Of our great Friend.

He sends us bitter, lest too gay

We wreathe around our heads the rose,
And count our right what Heaven each day
As alms bestows.

God sends us bitter, lest we fail
That bitterest grief aright to prize,
Which did for all the world avail

In His own eyes.

God sends us bitter, all our sins
Embittering; yet so kindly sends,

The path that bitterness begins

In sweetness ends.

He sends us bitter, that heaven's sweet,
Earth's bitter o'er, may sweeter taste,—
As Canaan's ground to Israel's feet,

For that great waste.

*English Lyrics." London, 1865, 8vo.

232

Our passions murmur and rebel,
But faith cries out unto the Lord,
And prayer by patience worketh well
Its own reward:

For if our heart the lesson draws

Aright, by bitter chastening taught,
And keep His statutes and His laws,
Even as we ought,

He openeth our eyes to see

(Eyes that our pride of heart had sealed), The sweetness of life's heavenly tree, And grief is healed;

And lo before us in the way

We view the fountains and the palms, And drink, and pitch our tents, and stay Singing sweet psalms.

STRENGTH IN WEAKNESS.*

FATHER, for Thy kindest word
Thankful songs to Thee I sing;
Sick at heart with hope deferred,
All my cause to Thee I bring.
Sweet the sound I hear from Thee,-
Cast thy burden upon Me.

As a father, bending low,

Listens to a lisping child,

So to me Thy pity show,

By the world and sin beguiled;
Holy is Thy law and just ;

Yet remember I am dust.

Spare me, Thou who lov'st to spare!

Gently on me lay Thy hand;
Grasp the bruised reed with care;
Let the smoking flax be fanned;
Firm my faltering steps uphold;
Tried, let me come forth like gold.

From "Lyra Anglicana." London, 1865, 8vo.