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3 Ye stars are but the shining dust
Of my divine abode,
Where I shall see iny God. 4 The Father of eternal light
Will there his bearns display; Nor shall one moment's darkness blend
With that unvaried day.
Shall in one song unite;
With infinite delight.
631. MONTGOMERY. Religion our Guide in Life and Death. 1 THROUGH shades and solitudes profound,
The fainting traveller winds his way;
And tempt his wandering feet astray; 2 Till mild Religion from above
Descends, a sweet, engaging form,
And folly flies her chastening rod;
A temple of the living God.
Where bright, celestial ages roll,
5 At her approach the grave appears
The gate of Paradise restored ;
And drops his double, flaming sword. 6 Baptized with her renewing fire,
May we the crown of glory gain ;
L. M. 632. DRUMMOND.
* Affliction cometh not forth of the dust."
With wrinkled brow and downcast eye,
And ashes scattered o'er her head.
From heaven she draws her sacred birth;
To execute his dread commands.
Perplexed in sin's deceitful way,
And sudden ruin round us spreads. 4 The messenger of grace, she flies
To train us for our home, the skies ; And, onward as we move, the way Becomes more smooth, more bright the day. 5 Her weeds to robes of glory turn,
Her looks with kindling radiance burn; Her lips these soothing words reveal, “ God smites to bless, he wounds to heal!"
633. DODDRIDGE. The weeping Seed-time and joyful Harvest. Psalm 126. 1 The darkened sky, how thick it lowers !
Troubled with storms, and big with showers;
3 The seeds of ecstasy unknown
Are in these watered furrows sown;
4 In secret foldings they contain
Unnumbered ears of golden grain ;
5 Then shall the trembling mourner come,
And bind his sheaves, and bear them horne: The voice long broke with sighs shall sing, Till heaven with hallelujahs ring.
1 DeEm not that they are blest alone
Whose days a peaceful tenor keep;
2 The light of smiles shall fill again The lids that overflow with tears, And weary hours of woe and pain
Are earnests of serener years.
For every dark and troubled night!
But joy shall come with early light.
Dost shed the bitter drops like rain,
Will give him to thy arms again.
And numbered every secret tear;
635. 8 & 48. M.
FROM THE SPANISA OF
Don JORGE MANRIQUE.
That lure us here!
The heart's blithe tone ?
age comes on.
3 Our birth is but a starting-place; Life is the running of the race,
And death the goal: There all those glittering toys are brought; That path alone, of all unsought,
Is found of all.
4 O let the soul its slumbers break,
To see how soon
Come stealing on.
1 BENEATH our feet and o'er our head
Is equal warning given ; Beneath us lie the countless dead,
Above us is the heaven!
2 Their names are graven on the stone,
Their bones are in the clay ; And ere another day is done,
Ourselves may be as they.
He lurks in every flower ;
Its peril every hour.
Of youth's soft cheek decay,
On manhood's middle day.