Day without night the angels fing,
Nor rest upon the drooping wing;
Teaching our souls betimes to ascend,
Where hallelujahs never end.

David awaked his harp and voice,
And all within him, to rejoice,
God's love to praise at morning light,
And tell of all His truth at night.

Jacob in prayer nocturnal ftrove;
No ftern repulse his prayer could move;
In vain the angel-man did say,

"Dismiss me, for 't is break of day!"

See how, in galling fetters laid,
At midnight Paul and Silas prayed;
Their gory wounds ftill smarting sore,
And cold the prison's rugged floor.

They sang the praises of the Lord;
So loud they sang, the prisoners heard:
And yet they thought that death was nigh;
And clouds obscured their morning fky.

How fhall I then Thy praise decline,

When health and friends and home are mine?

My dawn of day is clear and calm;

No foes oppress, no fears alarm.

Are these Thy mercies, Lord, to me?
O, let me then Thy servant be!
Submitting to Thy just control,
And loving Thee with all my soul.

So fhall I find Thee ftrong to save,
When laft bed fhall be the grave;

my

The grave shall own my Saviour's might, And darkness vanish at Thy fight!

Only my soul must now awake
From fleep of fin for Thy dear sake!
And then my body shall arise.
From fleep of death to yonder skies.

'Tis there I hope Thy face to see, The crown of all felicity;

'Tis there I hope that reft to gain, Which here I seek, but seek in vain.

As endless ages roll along,

Endless fhall be my grateful song;
And heaven itself fhall pass away,
Before I cease my vows to pay.

Glory to God, who Israel keeps,
Who never flumbers, never fleeps!
Almighty Power no weakness knows;
Unwearied Love asks no repose.

And now, my midnight musings o'er,
Thy wonted mercies, Lord, restore:
Let fleep again my eyelids fill,

And angels guard my soul from ill.

James Ford. 1856.

T

SONGS IN THE NIGHT.

WAS in the watches of the night
I thought upon Thy power;

I kept Thy lovely face in fight,
Amid the darkest hour.

While I lay refting on my bed,
My soul arose on high;

My God, my life, my hope, I said,
Bring thy salvation nigh.

I ftrive to mount thy holy hill;
I walk the heavenly road;
Thy glories all my spirit fill,
While I commune with God.

Thy mercy ftretches o'er my head
The shadow of thy wing;
My heart rejoices in thine aid,
And I thy praises fing.

Isaac Watts. 1674-1748.

NIGHT MUSINGS.

I

N the ftill filence of the voiceless night,

When, chased by airy dreams, the flumbers flee, Whom in the darkness doth my spirit seek,

O God, but Thee?

And if there be a weight upon my breast,
Some vague impreffion of the day foregone,
Scarce knowing what it is, I fly to Thee,
And lay it down.

Or if it be the heaviness that comes
In token of anticipated ill,

My bosom takes no heed of what it is,

Since 't is Thy will.

For, oh! in spite of past and present care,

Or anything befide, how joyfully

Passes that almoft solitary hour,

My God, with Thee!

More tranquil than the stillness of the night,
More peaceful than the filence of that hour,
More bleft than anything, my spirit lies

Beneath Thy power.

For what is there on earth that I defire,
Of all that it can give or take from me,
Or whom in heaven doth my spirit seek,
O God, but Thee?

TAR of morn and even,

STAR

Sun of Heaven's heaven,

Saviour high and dear,

Toward us turn thine ear;
Through whate'er may come,
Thou canft lead us home.

Though the gloom be grievous,
Those we leant on leave us,
Though the coward heart
Quit its proper part,

Though the Tempter come,

Thou wilt lead us home.

Saviour pure and holy,
Lover of the lowly,
Sign us with thy fign,
Take our hands in thine,
Take our hands and come,
Lead thy children home!