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C. M. 616.
Watts. The aged Saint's Reflection and Hope. Psalm 71. 1 My God, my everlasting hope,
I live upon thy truth; Thine hands have held my childhood up,
And strengthened all my youth.
2 Still has my life new wonders seen
Repeated every year;
I trust them to thy care. 3 Cast me not off when strength declines,
When hoary hairs arise ;
Whene'er thy servant dies.
To the surviving age,
When I shall quit the stage.
5 The land of silence and of death Attends
next remove ; 0 may these poor
remains of breath Teach the wide world thy love.
As various as the moon
Is man's estate below;
Succeeds a night of woe.
2 The night of woe resigns
Its darkness and its grief;
And brings our souls relief.
Is man's condition given;
By the fixed laws of Heaven.
Their lot of good or ill;
Ordained by wisest will.
To every changing state:
And the great issue wait.
Thine evil and thy good:
Weak mortal, be subdued.
1 Weak and irresolute is man:
The purpose of to-day, Woven with pains into his plan,
To-morrow rends away. 2 Some foe to his upright intent
Finds out his weaker part; Virtue engages his assent,
But pleasure wins his heart.
3 Bound on a voyage of fearful length,
Through dangers little known, A stranger to superior strength,
Man vainly trusts his own.
4 But oars alone can ne'er prevail
To reach the distant coast; The breath of heaven must swell the sail,
Or all the toil is lost.
C. H. M.
What is your Life?
1 O what is life?- 't is like a flower
That blossoms and is gone;
With all its beauty on:
2 O what is life? - 't is like the bow
That glistens in the sky:
But while we look, they die:
To-morrow it may disappear. 3 Lord, what is life ? — if spent with thee,
In humble praise and prayer,
We feel no anxious care :
C. M. 620.
MONTGOMERY. The Journey of Life. i I TRAVEL all the irksome night,
By ways to me unknown; I travel like a bird in flight,
Onward, and all alone. 2 Just such a pilgrimage is life;
Hurried from stage to stage, Our wishes with our lot at strife,
Through childhood to old age.
3 The world is seldom what it seems, –
To man, who dimly sees, Realities appear as dreams,
And dreams realities.
4 The Christian's years, though slow their flight
Till he is called away,
And death the dawn of day.
C. M. 621. H. K. WAITE.
Journeying through Death to Life. 1 Through sorrow's night, and danger's path,
Amid the deepening gloom, We, soldiers of a heavenly King,
Are marching to the tomb.
2 There, when the turmoil is no more,
And all our powers decay, Our cold remains in solitude
Shall sleep the years away.
3 Our labors done, securely laid
In this our last retreat,
The storms of life shall beat.
4 Yet not thus lifeless, thus inane,
The vital spark shall lie;
To seek its kindred sky.
The Journey of Life.
1 Thus far on life's perplexing path,
Thus far the Lord our steps hath led;
2 Strangers and pilgrims here below,
As all our fathers in their day,
3 When we have numbered all our years,
And stand at length on Jordan's brink,