3 Bound on a voyage of fearful length, 4 But oars alone can ne'er prevail The breath of heaven must swell the sail, Or all the toil is lost. C. H. M. 619. J. TAYLOR. What is your Life? 1 O WHAT is life?'t is like a flower That blossoms and is gone; It flourishes its little hour, With all its beauty on: Death comes, and, like a wintry day, 2 O what is life? 't is like the bow That glistens in the sky: We love to see its colors glow; But while we look, they die: Life fails as soon: -to-day 't is here; To-morrow it may disappear. 3 Lord, what is life? if spent with thee, Though life depart, our joys shall last 1 I TRAVEL all the irksome night, MONTGOMERY. 2 Just such a pilgrimage is life; 3 The world is seldom what it seems, Realities appear as dreams, And dreams realities. 4 The Christian's years, though slow their flight Till he is called away, Are but the watches of a night, And death the dawn of day. C. M. 621. 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, 2 There, when the turmoil is no more, Our cold remains in solitude 3 Our labors done, securely laid In this our last retreat, Unheeded o'er our silent dust 4 The storms of life shall beat. Yet not thus lifeless, thus inane, For o'er life's wreck that spark shall rise, L.M. 622. MONTGOMERY. 1 The Journey of Life. THUS far on life's perplexing path, 2 Strangers and pilgrims here below, 3 When we have numbered all our years, But, strong in faith, and hope, and love, C. P. M. 623. GREEN. Redeem the Time. 1 My days, and weeks, and months, and years Time, like the tide, its motion keeps, 2 Before thy throne, great God, I bow, While life, and health, and time endure, 3 If in destruction's road I stray, My soul renew, my sins forgive; Such as I dare not die! 4 With thee let every day be past; And when that comes, which proves my last, May glory dawn within! Relieve me then from every doubt; And, ere life's glimmering lamp goes out, L. M. 624. True Length of Life. J. TAYLOR. 1 LIKE shadows gliding o'er the plain, Or clouds that roll successive on, Man's busy generations pass, And while we gaze, their forms are gone. 2 "He lived, he died"; behold the sum, The abstract of the historian's page! 3 O Father! in whose mighty hand 4 To crowd the narrow span of life With wise designs and virtuous deeds; L. M. 625. • Man's Mortality. SHIRLEY. 1 THE glories of our birth and state Death lays his icy hands on kings. 2 Princes and magistrates must fall, a 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; Smell sweet and blossom in the dust. |