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THE GRATITUDE OF CHILDREN TO GOD.
THY throne, O GOD, in righteousness
For ever shall endure;
We bow before it ;-deign to bless
The children of the poor.
Thy wisdom fixed our lowly birth,
Yet we Thy goodness share;
Still make us, while we dwell on earth,
The children of Thy care.
Strangers to Thee, though Thine by name,
We heard Thy welcome voice,
And, gathered from the world, became
The children of Thy choice.
Thou art our Shepherd, -glorious GOD!
Thy little flock behold;
And guide us by Thy staff and rod,-
The children of Thy fold.
We praise Thy name that we were brought
To this delightful place,
Where we are watched, and warned, and taught,
The children of Thy grace.
Oh, may our friends, Thy servants here,
Meet all souls above;
And they and we in heaven appear,
The children of Thy love.
CHILDREN PRAISING CHRIST.
WHEN Jesus left the throne of GOD,
He chose a humble birth;
A man of grief,—like us He trod
A lowly path on earth.
Like Him, may we be found below
In wisdom's paths of peace ;
Like Him, in grace and knowledge grow,
As years and strength increase.
When Jesus into Salem rode,
The children sang around; For joy they plucked the palms, and strowed
Their garments on the ground.
Hosanna, our glad voices raise,
Hosanna to our King ;
Could we forget our Saviour's praise,
The stones themselves would sing.
For we have learned to love His name;
That name, divinely sweet,
May every pulse through life proclaim,
And our last breath repeat !
Glory to the Father give,
GOD, in whom we move and live;
Children's prayers He deigns to hear;
Children's songs delight His ear.
Glory to the Son we bring,
Christ our Prophet, Priest, and King ;
Children, raise your sweetest strain
To the Lamb, for He was slain.
Glory to the Holy Ghost;
Be this day a Pentecost;
Children's minds may He inspire ;
Touch their tongues with holy fire.
Glory in the highest be
To the blesséd Trinity,
For the Gospel from above,
For the word that “God is love."
WHAT are those soul-reviving strains,
Which echo thus from Salem's plains?
What anthems loud and louder still,
Sweetly resound from Zion's hill?
Lo! 't is an infant chorus sings,
Hosanna to the King of kings.
The Saviour comes, and babes proclaim
Salvation, sent in Jesus' name.
Nor these alone their voice shall raise,
For we will join this song of praise.
Still Israel's children forward press,
To hail the LORD their righteousness.
Messiah's name shall joy impart
Alike to Jew and Gentile heart.
He bled for us, He bled for you,
And we will sing hosanna too.
Where are the dead ?--In heaven or hell
Their disembodied spirits dwell ;
Their perished forms, in bonds of clay,
Reserved until the judgment-day.
Who were the dead ?—The sons of time
In every age, and state, and clime;
Renowned, dishonoured, or forgot,
The place that knew them knows them not.
Where are the living ?-On the ground,
is heard and mercy found : There, in the compass of a span, The mortal makes the immortal man.
Who are the living ?—They, whose breath
Draws every moment nigh to death :
Of endless bliss or woe the heirs ;
Oh, what an awful lot is theirs !
Then timely warned, let us begin
To follow Christ and flee from sin,
Daily grow up in Him our Head,
LORD of the living and the dead.
CHOOSING THE PORTION OF GOD'S HERITAGE.
PEOPLE of the living GOD!
I have sought the world around,
Paths of sin and sorrow trod,
Peace and comfort nowhere found :
Now to you my spirit turns,
Turns,-a fugitive unblest!
Brethren ! where your altar burns,
Oh, receive me into rest.
Lonely I no longer roam,
Like the cloud, the wind, the wave;
Where you dwell shall be my home,
Where you die shall be my grave;
Mine the GOD whom you adore,
Your Redeemer shall be mine;
Earth can fill my heart no more,
Every idol I resign.
Tell me not of gain or loss,
Ease, enjoyment, pomp, and power ;
Welcome poverty and cross,
Shame, reproach, affliction's hour !
Follow me!"-I know Thy voice,
Jesus, LORD! Thy steps I see ;
Now I take Thy yoke by choice,
Light Thy burden now to me.
LIFE AND DEATH,-TIME AND ETERNITY.
Oh, where shall rest be found; –
Rest for the weary soul?
'T were vain the ocean's depths to sound,
Or pierce to either pole :
The world can never give
The bliss for which we sigh ; 'Tis not the whole of life to live,
Nor all of death to die.
Beyond this vale of tears
There is a life above, Unmeasured by the flight of years,
And all that life is love.
There is a death, whose pang
Outlasts the fleeting breath :
Oh, what eternal horrors hang
Around the second death !
LORD God of truth and grace!
Teach us that death to shun,
Lest we be driven from Thy face
And evermore undone.
Here would we end our quest;
Alone are found in Thee
The life of perfect love,—the rest
To us the voice of wisdom cries :
“ Hearken, ye children ! and be wise ;
Better than gold the fruit I bear,
Rubies with me may not compare.
To them that love me I am kind,
And those that seek me early find :
My son, give me thine heart, and learn
Wisdom from folly to discern.
“The LORD possessed me, cre of old
His hand the firmament unrolled ;
Before He bade the mountains stand,
Or poured the ocean round the land.
Rejoicing then before His throne,
From everlasting I was known;
Rejoicing still, as in His sight,
With men on earth is my delight