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Enough that once more our old master we meet,
The same as of yore when we sat at his feet;
Let us place on his brow every laurel we've won,
And show that each pupil is also a son.

And when to the harsh scenes of life we return,
Our hearts with the glow of this meeting shall burn;
Its calm light shall cheer till earth's school time is o'er,
And prepare us in heaven for one meeting more.

HYMN.

FAMILY MEETING.

August 20, 1835.

In this glad hour, when children meet,
And home with them their children bring,

Our hearts with one affection beat,

One song of praise our voices sing.

For all the faithful, loved and dear,
Whom thou so kindly, Lord, hast given;

For those who still are with us here,
And those who wait for us in heaven;

For every past and present joy,

For honor, competence, and health, For hopes which time may not destroy, Our soul's imperishable wealth;

For all, accept our humble praise;
Still bless us, Father, by thy love;
And when are closed our mortal days,
Unite us in one home above.

HYMN,

AT THE ORDINATION OF MESSRS. BARNARD AND GRAY.

November 2, 1834.

Tune, HOTHAM.

"FEED my sheep," the Savior said
To the chosen of his love;
"Feed them with the living bread;
Guide them to the fold above.
Feed my lambs," the Shepherd cried,
"Ere their tender hearts are cold,
Chilled with worldliness and pride,
Bring them safely to my fold.

"Preach my gospel to the poor,
Sunk in earthly want and woe;
Give them treasures that endure,
Peace and heaven-born hope bestow.
At the hedges and highways,

Where in dust and sin they roam,
Loud the gospel summons raise,
Call the hapless wanderers home."

On the sacred errand bent,

Two and two they sallied forth; Darkness vanished where they went; Peace immortal dawned on earth. In their holy steps to tread,

Other two we now ordain:
On their path thy glory shed;
Lord, their steadfast feet sustain.

Heralds to the young and low,

Give them words to touch and win; Words to calm the sobs of woe, Words to wake the sleep of sin. Heralds of eternal truth,

Arm them with immortal love; Spread thy shield around their youth, Take their honored age above.

A CURE FOR SEA-SICKNESS:

LINES ON A NEW NOTION;

COMPOSED AT SEA,

Monday Night, April 6, 1829.

I SING the story of the ancient ark,
That oarless, rudderless, and sailless bark,
Which through the deluge bore the holy clerk,
And saved the creatures in its chambers dark.

The clouds collect; the various tribes embark;
The fountains of the deep break up, - and hark!
Above the matins of the early lark
The thunders roll. Beyond th' appointed mark
Of ocean's ancient shores, this great nearch
Rides o'er the ruins of earth's fertile park.
How sad the wide-spread ravage to remark!
Quenched of all earth-born life the moving spark!
And wrecks, and beasts, and human corses stark,
Throng round the life-boat of the patriarch.

The months roll on. He sends the dove to mark
Th' abating floods. And now they disembark:
Men kneel; the creatures leap, fly, scream, and bark;
And o'er them circles Mercy's radiant arc.

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