155

3 O magnify the Lord with me!
With me exalt His Name!
When in distress to Him I called,
He to my rescue came.

4 The hosts of God encamp around
The dwellings of the just;
Deliverance He affords to all
Who in His succour trust.

5 O make but trial of His love!
Experience will decide,—

How blest are they, and only they,
Who in His truth confide.

6 Fear Him, ye saints! and you will then
Have nothing else to fear;
Make ye His service your delight,
Your wants shall be His care.

LMIGHTY Father of mankind,
On Thee my hopes remain :
And when the day of trouble comes,
I shall not trust in vain.

2 In early years Thou wast my Guide,
And of my youth the Friend;
And as my days began with Thee,
With Thee my days shall end.
3 I know the Power in whom I trust,
The Arm on which I lean;
He will my Saviour ever be,
Who has my Saviour been.

4 My God, who causedst me to hope,
When life began to beat;

And, when a stranger in the world,
Didst guide my wandering feet ;—

5 Thou wilt not not cast me off, when age
And evil days descend;

Thou wilt not leave me in despair,
To mourn my latter end.

6 Therefore, in life I'll trust to Thee,
In death I will adore;

And after death will sing Thy praise,
When time shall be no more.

156

*(188)

L.M.

Mrs. OPIE. (1835.)

HERE seems a voice in every gale,

a
A tongue in every opening flower;
Which tells, O Lord, the wondrous tale
Of Thy indulgence, love, and power.
2 The birds that rise on quivering wing,
Appear to hymn their Maker's praise;
And all the mingling sounds of spring
To Thee a general chorus raise.

3 And shall my voice, great God, alone

Be mute, 'midst Nature's loud acclaim?
No! let my heart, with answering tone,
Breathe forth in praise Thy holy name.
4 And Nature's debt is small to mine :
Thou bad'st her being bounded be;
But, matchless proof of love divine,
Thou gav'st immortal life to me.
5 The Saviour left His heavenly throne,
A ransom for my soul to give ;
Man's suffering state He made His own,
And stooped to die, that I might live.
6 Due thanks and praise for love so great,
No mortal tongue can e'er express;
Then let me, bowed before Thy feet,
In silence love Thee, Lord, and bless.

DODDRIDGE. 1755.

ETERNAL Source of every joy,

Well may Thy praise our lips employ,

While in Thy temple we appear,

Whose goodness crowns the circling year.

2 The flowery spring, at Thy command,
Embalms the air, and paints the land;
The summer rays with vigour shine,
To raise the corn, and cheer the vine.
3 Thy hand in autumn richly pours
Through all our coasts redundant stores;
And winters, soften'd by Thy care,
No more a face of horror wear.

4 Seasons, and months, and weeks, and days,
Demand successive songs of praise;
Still be the cheerful homage paid
With opening light and evening shade!
5 Oh! may our more harmonious tongues
In worlds unknown pursue the songs;
And in those brighter courts adore,
Where days and years revolve no more!

158 (211) FOUNTAIN

OUNTAIN of mercy! God of love!
How rich Thy bounties are!

The rolling seasons, as they move,
Proclaim Thy constant care.

2 When in the bosom of the earth,
The sower hid the grain,

Thy goodness mark'd its secret birth,
And sent the early rain.

3 The spring's sweet influence, Lord, was Thine; The plants in beauty grew;

Thou gavest refulgent suns to shine,
And mild refreshing dew.

4 These various mercies from above,
Matured the swelling grain;
A yellow harvest crowns Thy love,
And plenty fills the plain.

5 Seed-time and harvest, Lord, alone
Thou dost on man bestow;

Let him not then forget to own
From whom his blessings flow !

6 Fountain of love! our praise is Thine;
To Thee our songs we'll raise,
And all created Nature join
In sweet harmonious praise !

REAT God, as seasons disappear,
And changes mark the rolling year,
Thy favour still has crowned our days,
And we would celebrate Thy praise.
2 The harvest-song would we repeat :
Thou givest us the finest wheat.
The joys of harvest we have known :
The praise, O Lord, is all Thine own.
3 Our tables spread, our garners stored,
O give us hearts to bless Thee, Lord!
Forbid it, Source of light and love,
That hearts and lives should barren prove.
4 Another harvest comes apace :
Ripen our spirits by Thy grace,
That we may calmly meet the blow
The sickle gives to lay us low.

5 That so, when angel-reapers come
To gather sheaves to Thy blest home,
Our spirits may be borne on high
To Thy safe garner in the sky.

160

(34)

A

LMIGHTY Father, gracious Lord,
Kind Guardian of my days,

Thy mercies let my heart record,
In songs of grateful praise.

2 In life's first dawn, my tender frame
Was Thy indulgent care;

Long ere I could pronounce Thy name,
Or breathe the infant prayer.

3 Each rolling year new favours brought
From Thy exhaustless store;

But, ah! in vain my labouring thought
Would count Thy mercies o'er.

4 While sweet reflection through my days,
Thy bounteous hand would trace;
Still dearer blessings claim my praise,
The blessings of Thy grace.

5 Yes, I adore Thee, gracious Lord,
For favours more divine,-

That I have known Thy sacred word,
Where all Thy glories shine.

6 Lord, when this mortal frame decays,
And every weakness dies,

Complete the wonders of Thy grace,
And raise me to the skies.

7 Then shall my joyful powers unite
In more exalted lays;

161

And join the happy sons of light,
In everlasting praise.

L.M.

DODDRIDGE. 1755

YOD of my life, through all my days,

GOD

My grateful powers shall sound Thy praise;

My song shall wake with opening light,
And cheer the dark and silent night.

2 When anxious cares would break my rest,
And griefs would tear my throbbing breast,
Thy tuneful praises, raised on high,

Shall check the murmur and the sigh. 3 When death o'er nature shall prevail, And all its powers of language fail,

Joy through my swimming eyes shall break,
And mean the thanks I cannot speak.
4 But, O! when that last conflict's o'er,
And I am chained to earth no more,
With what glad accents shall I rise
To join the music of the skies!