179 Who turn'd thee from the fatal paths of fol- ly, sin, and shame. BALERMA. C. M. Come, trembling sinner, in whose breast A thousand thoughts revolve; Come, with your guilt and fear oppress'd. And make this last resolve. While thee I seek, protecting Power, Be my vain wishes still'd, Fine. And may this con- se-crated hour With bet- ter hopes be fill'd! D. C. Thy mer-cy o'er my life has flow'd; That mer-cy S I a - dore. Fine. D.C.S: Thy love the power of thought bestow'd, To thee my thoughts would soar. 208 BROWN. C. M. W. B. BRADBURY. Why mournest thou, my anxious soul, Despairing of re-lief, As if the Lord o'erlook'd thy cares, Or pit-ied not thy grief? though we part,'tis bliss to know The good shall meet above. sing the everlasting song With those who've gone before. Oh, that will be joy-ful, To meet to part no more! D. C. |