112.

Aspiration for Heaven. 7 & 6's M.

Amsterdam.

1 RISE, my soul, and stretch thy wings,
Thy better portion trace;
Rise from transitory things,

Towards heaven, thy native place :
Sun, and moon, and stars decay,

Time shall soon this earth remove:
Rise, my soul, and haste away,
To seats prepared above.

2 Rivers to the ocean run,

Nor stay in all their course;
Fire ascending seeks the sun;
Both speed them to their source.
So a soul that's born of God,

Pants to view his glorious face;
Upward tends to his abode,
To rest in his embrace.

113.

Heaven. C. M.

Billings' Jordan. p. 11, S. S. S. B.

1 THERE is a land of pure delight,

Where saints immortal reign;

Infinite day excludes the night,
And pleasures banish pain.

2 There everlasting spring abides,
And never-withering flowers;

Death, like a narrow sea, divides
This heavenly land from ours.

3 Sweet fields, beyond the swelling flood,
Stand drest in living green:

So to the Jews old Canaan stood,

And Jordan rolled between.

4 Could we but climb where Moses stood,
And view the landscape o'er,

Not Jordan's streams, nor death's cold flood
Should fright us from the shore.

1 WHILE beauty clothes the fertile vale,

And blossoms on the spray,

And fragrance breathes in every gale,
How sweet the vernal day!

2 How kind the influence of the skies!
Soft showers, with blessings fraught,
Bid verdure, fragrance, beauty rise,
And fix the roving thought.

3 O let my wandering heart confess,
With gratitude and love,

The bounteous hand that deigns to bless
The garden, field and grove.

4 That bounteous hand my thoughts adore,
Beyond expression kind,

Hath sweeter, nobler gifts in store,
To bless the craving mind.

92

36

CLOSE OF THE YEAR.

5 Inspired to praise, I then shall join
Glad nature's cheerful song;
And love and gratitude divine
Attune my joyful tongue.

115.

Close of the Year.

C. M.

Stevens. Windsor.

1 AND now, my soul, another year
Of my short life is past :
I cannot long continue here;
And this may be my last.

2 Part of my doubtful life is gone,
Nor will return again;

And swift my fleeting moments run-
The few which yet remain.

3 Awake, my soul! with all thy care

Thy true condition learn

What are thy hopes; how sure, how fair,
And what thy great concern?

4 Now a new space of life begins,
Set out afresh for heaven:

Seek pardon for thy former sins,
Through Christ so freely given.

5 Devoutly yield thyself to God,
And on his grace depend;

With zeal pursue the heavenly road,
Nor doubt a happy end.

116.

Old or New Year. L. M.

Rothwell. Duke St.

1 My helper God! I bless thy name;

The same thy power, thy grace the same;
The tokens of thy friendly care,

Open, and crown, and close the year.

2 I midst ten thousand dangers stand,
Supported by thy guardian hand;
And see, when I survey my ways,
Ten thousand monuments of praise.

3 Thus far thy arm hath led me on,-
Thus far I make thy mercy known;
And while I tread this desert land,
New blessings shall new songs demand.

117.

New Year. 7's M.

Benevento. p. 28, S. S. S. B.

1 WHILE with ceaseless course, the sun

Hasted through the former year,

Many souls their race have run,

Never more to meet us here.

Fixed in an eternal state,

They have done with all below;

We a little longer wait;

But how little, none can know.

2 As the winged arrow flies Speedily the mark to find;

94

1

DEATH OF A PUPIL.

As the lightning from the skies
Darts, and leaves no trace behind;
Swiftly thus our fleeting days
Bear us down life's rapid stream!
Upward, Lord, our spirits raise ;
All below is but a dream.

3 Thanks for mercies past receive,
Pardon of our sins renew;

Teach us henceforth how to live,
With eternity in view;

Bless thy word to young and old;
Fill us with a Saviour's love;
And when life's short tale is told,
May we dwell with thee above.

118.

Death of a Pupil. c. M.

1 DEATH has been here, and borne away

A brother from our side;

Just in the morning of his day,
As young as we he died.

2 We cannot tell who next may fall
Beneath thy chastening rod;
One must be first, but let us all
Prepare to meet our God.

3 May each attend with willing feet,
The means of knowledge here;
And wait around thy mercy seat,
With hope as well as fear.

Stevens.