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3 Bound on a voyage of fearful length,
Through dangers little known,
Man vainly trusts his own.
To reach the distant coast; The breath of heaven must swell the sail,
Or all the toil is lost.
C. H. M.
i 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 :
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.
H. K. WHITE. 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.
Yet not thus lifeless, thus inane,
The vital spark shall lie;
To seek its kindred sky.
The Journey of Life.
i 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,
C. P. M.
Redeem the Time.
1 My days, and weeks, and months, and years Fly, rapid as the whirling spheres
Around the steady pole;
Where endless ages roll.
To know my real state:
Before it be too late.
Which leads to joys on high ; My soul renew, my sins forgive; Nor let me ever dare to live
Such as I dare not die!
proves my last, May glory dawn within! Relieve me then from every doubt; And, ere life's glimmering lamp goes out, Let endless joys begin. L. M. 624.
Or clouds that roll successive on,
2 " He lived, he died”; behold the sum,
The abstract of the historian's page! .
The infant's day, the patriarch's age. 3 O Father! in whose mighty hand
The boundless years and ages lie,
And use the moments as they fly, 4 To crowd the narrow span of life
With wise designs and virtuous deeds;
L. M. 625.
Man's Mortality. 1 The glories of our birth and state
Are shadows, not substantial things; There is no armor against fate;
Death lays his icy hands on kings. 2 Princes and magistrates must fall,
And in the dust be equal made, The high and mighty with the small,
Sceptre and crown with scythe and spade. The laurel withers on our brow;
Then boast no more your mighty deeds : Upon death's purple altar now
See where the victor victim bleeds !
4 All heads must come to the cold tomb;
Only the actions of the just Preserve in death a rich perfume,
Smell sweet and blossom in the dust.