If hush'd the breeze, and calm the tide,
Soft will the stream of mem'ry glide;
And all the past, a gentle train,
Wak'd by remembrance, live again.

If loud the wind, the tempest high,
And darkness wrap the sullen sky,
I muse on life's tempestuous sea,
And sigh, O Lord, for rest in Thee!

Toss'd on the deep and swelling wave,
Oh! mark my trembling soul and save;
Oh! spread beneath the eternal arm,
Then wildest billows cannot harm.

No. 309.].

[Monday.

THE MARINERS' MIDNIGHT HYMN.

"They that go down to the sea in ships, they do business in great waters: These see the works of the Lord, and his wonders in the deep. They mount up to the heaven, they go down again to the depths, their soul is melted because of trouble. Then they cry unto the Lord in their trouble, and he bringeth them out of their distresses."-Psl. cviii. 23, 24.

OH thou who didst prepare,
The ocean's cavern'd cell,
And teach the gathering waters there,
To meet and dwell ;

Tossed on our reeling bark,
Upon this briny sea,

Thy wond'rous ways, O Lord, we mark,
And sing to Thee.

That glorious hand of thine,
That fills the fount of day,
And gives the lunar orb to shine
With silvery ray,

That hangeth forth on high

The clustering gems of night,
Can point beneath a beamless sky,
Our course aright.

No. 310.]

[Tuesday.

THE MARINERS' MIDNIGHT HYMN (continued).

BORNE on the darkening wave,

In measured sweep we go,

Nor dread th' unfathomable grave,

That yawns below;

For he is nigh who trod

Amid the foaming spray,

Whose billows own'd th' incarnate God,

And died away.

How terrible art Thou

In all thy wonders shown,

Tho' veiled in thine eternal brow,
Thy steps unknown!

Invisible to sight,

But oh! to faith how near,

Beneath the gloomiest cloud of night,
Thou beamest here.

To peaceful rest we go,

And close our tranquil eyes,

Though deep beneath the waters flow,
And circling rise.

Though swells the flowing tide,

And threatens far above,

We know in whom our souls confide,
And rest upon thy love.

No. 311.]

FRIENDSHIP.

[Wednesday.

'Love your kindred and value your friends.'

SWEET are the counsels of a friend,
To peace and happiness they tend;
Ev'n when he chides, his words are sound,
And heal, although they search the wound.
As fragrant ointments do impart

A sweet sensation to the heart,
So doth the friendly counsel prove
Of those, who counsel us in love.

No. 312.]

PROSPERITY.

[Thursday.

WITH moderate blessings be content,
Nor idly grasp at every shade,
Peace, competence, a life well spent,
Are treasures that can never fade:
And he who weakly sighs for more,
Augments his misery, not his store.

If God causes you to prosper in the world, be grateful to him; shew it by your liberality, and kindness to the distressed: for "There is that scattereth, and yet increaseth; there is that withholdeth more than is meet, but it tendeth to poverty."

It is meet to be careful, but not covetous.
A covetous man" is an idolater."

No. 313.]

TO-MORROW.

[Friday.

How heavy falls the foot of time!
How slow the ling'ring quarters chime,
Thro' anxious hours of long delay!
In vain we watch the silent glass,
More slow the sands appear to pass,
While disappointment marks their way.

To-morrow-still the phantom flies,
Flitting away before our eyes,

Eludes our grasp, is pass'd and gone;
Daughter of hope, night o'er thee flings
The shadow of her raven wings,

And in the morning thou art flown,

Delusive sprite! from day to day,
We still pursue thy pathless way;
Thy promise broken o'er and o'er;
Man still believes, and is thy slave;
Nor ends the chase but in the grave,
For there to-morrow is no more!

No. 314.]

ON A SLEEPING BOY.

[Saturday.

SLEEP and while slumber weighs thine eyelids

down,

May no foul phantom o'er thy pillow frown;
But brightest visions deck thy tranquil bed,
And angels' wings o'er-canopy thy head.
Sleep on, sweet boy! may no dark dream arise,
To mar thy rosy rest-thou babe of paradise!

See where the glowing hands are closely prest,
As when from pray'r he softly sunk to rest;
Mark, how with half-clos'd lips and cherub smile,
He looks, as still he pray'd, and slept the while;
Yet, yet they seem as if they whisper'd praise,
For all the blessings of his halcyon days.