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The wealth of seas, the spoils of war?

They sought a faith's pure shrine i
Ay, call it holy ground,

The soil where first they trod!
They have left unstained what there they found—

Freedom to worship God.—Mrs. Hemans.

LESS. XCIX. A BIRD'S NEST.

It wins my admiration
To view the structure of that little work
A bird's nest. Mark it well, within, without;
No tool had he that wrought; no knife to cut;
No nail to fix; no bodkin to insert;
No glue to join;—his little beak was all;
And yet how neatly finished! What nice hand,
With every implement and means of art,
And twenty years' apprenticeship to boot,
Could make me such another ?—Hurdis.

LESS. C.—MORNING HYMN.

Oh! timely happy, timely wise,
Hearts that with rising morn arise!
Eyes that the beam celestial view,
Which evermore makes all things new!

New every morning is the love
Our wakening and uprising prove;
Through sleep and darkness safely brought,
Restored to life, and power, and thought.

New mercies, each returning day,

Hover around us while we pray;

New perils past, new sins forgiven,

New thoughts of God, new hopes of heaven.

If on our daily course our mind
Be set to hallow all we find,
New treasures still, of countless price,
God will provide for sacrifice.

The trivial round, the common task,
Will furnish all we ought to ask;
Room to deny ourselves; a road
To bring us, daily, nearer God.

Seek we no more: content with these,
Let present Rapture, Comfort, Ease,
As Heaven shall bid them, come and go,
The secret this of Rest below.

Only, 0 Lord, in Thy dear love,

Fit us for perfect rest above;

And help us, this and every day,

To live more nearly as we pray.—Keble.

LESS. CI. EVENING HYMN.

'Tis gone, that bright and orb6d blaze,
Fast fading from our wistful gaze;
Yon mantling cloud has hid from sight
The last faint pulse of quivering light.

In darkness and in weariness
The traveller on his way must press
No gleam to watch on tree or tower,
Whiling away the lonesome hour.

Sun of my soul! Thou Saviour dear,
It is not night if Thou be near:
Oh, may no earth-born cloud arise
To hide Thee from Thy servant's eyes.

When round Thy wondrous works below
My searching rapture's glance I throw,
Tracing out wisdom, power, and love,
In earth or sky, in stream or grove;

When with dear friends sweet talk I hold,
And all the flowers of life unfold;
Let not my heart within me bum,
Except in all I Thee discern.

When the soft dews of kindly sleep
My wearied eyelids gently steep,
Be my last thought how sweet to rest
For ever on my Saviour's breast.

Abide with me from mom to eve,
For without Thee I cannot live;
Abide with me when night is nigh,
For without Thee I dare not die.

If some poor wandering child of Thine
Have spumed, to-day, the voice divine;
Now, Lord, the gracious work begin,
Let him no more lie down in sin.

Watch by the sick, enrich the poor
With blessings from Thy boundless store;
Be every mourner's sleep to-night
Like infant's slumbers, pure and light.

Come near, and bless us when we wake,
Ere through the world our way we take;
'Till in the ocean of Thy love
We lose ourselves in Heaven above.—Keble.

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