289. Fleeting Time a Motive to holy Preparation.
REMARK, my soul, the narrow bounds
Of each revolving year,
How soon the weeks complete their rounds;
How short the months appear!
So fast eternity comes on,
And that important day,
When God what mortal man hath done
In judgment will survey.
Awaken, Lord, my thoughtless heart,
Its great concern to see;
That I may choose the better part,
And wholly live to thee.
So shall the course of ev'ry year
With peace and hope be blest;
Or this my willing soul shall bear
To everlasting rest.
Warning to the Unfruitful.
SEE in the vineyard of the Lord
A barren fig-tree stand;
No fruit it yields, no blossom bears,
Though planted by his hand.
Yet Mercy asks a short delay;
"O grant another year!
Then, if the tiller's care be vain,
No more the fig-tree spare."
The truth is ours! his gracious help
The Spirit long hath given;
And strength, and light, and grace supplied;
But where our fruit for heaven!
O Lord, let Mercy's plea prevail;
Still let thy grace be found;
Henceforth to thee may all our lives
With holy fruits abound!
291. The Shortness and Uncertainty of Life.
WHILE, with ceaseless course, the sun
Roll'd along the former year,
Many souls their race have run,
Never more to meet us here.
Fixt in their eternal state,
They are gone from all below;
We a little longer wait,
But how little none can know.
Oh how fast our fleeting days
Bear us down life's rapid stream!
Lord, to heaven our wishes raise;
All on earth is but a dream.
Guide the young, and warn the old;
Bless us with the Saviour's love;
So, when life's short tale is told,
We shall dwell with thee above.
On the Improvement of Time.
AND now, my soul, another year
Of this short life is past:
I cannot long continue here,
And this may be my last.
Awake, my soul, with solemn care
Thy true condition learn;
What are thy hopes, how sure, how fair;
And what thy chief concern.
With better thoughts the year begin;
Raise all thy hopes to heaven;
And strive, and pray, that all thy sin
Through Christ may be forgiven.
Devoutly yield thyself to God,
And on his grace depend;
With zeal pursue the heav'nly road,
Nor doubt a happy end.
THE BUILDING OF CHURCHES.
293. For God's Blessing in the Sanctuary.
THIS stone to thee in faith we lay;
To thee this temple, Lord, we build;
Thy power and goodness here display,
And be it with thy presence fill'd.
Here, when thy people seek thy face,
And dying sinners pray to live,
Hear thou in heaven, thy dwelling-place;
And when thou hearest, Lord, forgive!
Here, when thy messengers proclaim
The blessed gospel of thy Son,
Still, by the power of his great name,
Be mighty signs and wonders done.
Thy glory never hence depart;
Yet choose not, Lord, this house alone;
Thy kingdom come to ev'ry heart;
In ev'ry bosom fix thy throne!
THE CONSECRATION OF CHURCHES.
294. Sion's promised Glory a Motive to joyful Worship.
BEHOLD the mountain of the Lord
In latter days shall rise,
Exalted high above the hills,
And draw the wond'ring eyes.
To this the joyful nations round,
All tribes and tongues shall flow;
Up to the hill of God," they'll say,
"And to his house, we'll go!"
The light that shines from Sion's hill
Shall lighten ev'ry land:
The King who reigns in Sion's towers
Shall all the world command.
Then come, ye favor'd of the Lord,
To worship at his shrine;
And, humbly walking in his light,
With holy beauty shine.
Gratitude for national Mercies.
LORD of heaven, and earth, and ocean,
Hear us from thy bright abode;
While our hearts, with deep devotion,
Own their great and gracious God:
Now with joy we come before thee;
Countless have thy mercies been;
Lord of life, and strength, and glory,
Guard thy Church, and guide our Queen.
Thee, with humble adoration,
Lord, we praise for mercies past;
Strength of this most favor'd nation!
May thy mercies ever last:
May our sons appear before thee;
In thy Church thy love be seen;
Lord of life, and light, and glory,
Bless thy people,-bless our Queen.
Thanksgiving for Harvest.
GERMAN HYMN. P. M.
PRAISE to God, immortal praise
For the love that crowns our days!
Bounteous source of ev'ry joy,
Let thy praise our tongues employ!
For the blessings of the field;
For the stores the gardens yield;
For the joy which harvests bring;
Grateful praises now we sing.
Clouds that drop refreshing dews;
Suns that genial heat diffuse;
Flocks that whiten all the plain;
Yellow sheaves of ripen'd grain :
All that Spring, with bounteous hand,
Scatters o'er the smiling land;
All that lib'ral Autumn pours
From her overflowing stores:
These, great God, to thee we owe;
Source, whence all our blessings flow;
And for these our souls shall raise
Grateful vows, and solemn praise.
297. The Prayer of the Righteous powerful.
WARWICKSHIRE. D. C. M.
WHEN Abraham, full of holy fear,
Before Jehovah stood;
And with an humble, fervent prayer,
For guilty Sodom sued;
With what success, what wondrous grace,
Was his petition crown'd!
The Lord would spare, if in the place
Ten righteous men were found.
And could a man have power on high,
A boon so vast to gain?
Great God! and shall a nation cry,
And plead with thee in vain?
Still we are thine, thy name we bear,
Here yet is thine abode;
Long hast thou made our land thy care;
Forsake us not, O God!
FUNERALS.
Reflections on Mortality.
CROWLE. C. M.
BENEATH our feet and o'er our head
Is equal warning given;
Beneath us lie the countless dead,
Above us is the heaven.
Their names are graven on the stone,
Their bones are in the clay;
And ere another day is gone,
Ourselves may be as they.
Turn, mortal, turn! thy danger know;
Where'er thy foot can tread,
The earth rings hollow from below,
And warns thee of her dead.
Turn, Christian, turn! thy soul apply
To truths divinely giv'n;
The bones that underneath thee lie
Shall live for hell or heav'n.
|