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FOR ST JAMES' DAY.

Though sorrows rise and dangers roll In waves of darkness o'er my soul, Though friends are false and love decays, And few and evil are my days, Though conscience, fiercest of my foes, Swells with remembered guilt iny woes, Yet even in nature's utmost ill, I love thee, Lord, I love thee still. Though Sinai's curse, in thunder dread, Peals o’er mine unprotected head, And memory points, with busy pain, To grace and mercy given in vain, Till nature, shrieking in the strife, Would fly to hell, to 'scape from life, Though every thought has power to kill, I love thee, Lord, I love thee still. 0, by the pangs thyself hast borne, The ruffian's blow, the tyrant's scorn ; By Sinai's curse, whose dreadful doom Was buried in thy guiltless tomb: By these my pangs, whose healing smart Thy grace hath planted in my heart ; I know, I feel, thy bounteous will, Thou lov'st me, Lord, thou lov'st me still,

MICHAELMAS DAY.

0, captain of God's host, whose dreadfut might Led forth to war the armed Seraphim,

And from the starry height,

Subdued in burning fight, Cast down that ancient dragon, dark and grim.

Thine angels, Christ, we laud in solemn lays, Our elder brethren of the crystal sky,

Who, 'mid thy glory's blaze,

The ceaseless anthem raise,
And gird thy throne in faithful ininistry.

We celebrate their love, whose viewless wing Hath left for us so oft their mansion high,

The mercies of their king,

To mortal saints to bring,
Or guard the couch of slumbering infancy.

But thee, the first and last, we glorify, Who, when thy world was sunk in death and sin,

Not with thine hierarchy,

The armies of the sky,
But didst with thine own arm the battle win;

Alone didst pass the dark and dismal shore, Alone didst tread the wine-press, and alone,

All glorious in thy gore,

Didst light and life restore,
To us who lay in darkness and undone ;

Therefore, with angels and archangels, we To thy dear love our thankful chorus raise,

And tune our songs to thee

Who art, and ought to be, And, endless as thy mercies, sound thy praise.

7*

IN TIMES OF DISTRESS AND DANGER.

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O God, that madest earth and sky, the darkness

and the day, Give ear to this thy family, and help us when we

pray For wide the waves of bitterness around our ves

sel roar,

And heavy grows the pilot's heart to view the

rocky shore.

The cross our master bore for us, for him we fain

would bear, But mortal strength to weakness turns, and cour

age to despair. Then mercy on our failings, Lord, our sinking

faith renew, And when thy sorrows visit us, o send thy pa

tience too.

INTENDED TO BE SUNG ON OCCASION OF HIS PREACHING A SERMON FOR THE CHURCH MISSIONARY SOCIETY, IN

APRIL, 1820.

FROM Greenland's icy mountains,

From India's coral strand,
Where Afric's sunny fountains

Roll down their golden sand ;
From many an ancient river,

From many a palmy plain,
They call us to deliver

Their land from error's chain.

What though the spicy breezes

Blow soft o'er Ceylon's isle,
Though every prospect pleases,

And only man is vile :
In vain with lavish kindness

The gifts of God are strown,
The heatben, in his blindness,

Bows down to wood and stone.

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