Sabbath Musings.
Lord! this is all we seek to do;
Grant us thy grace to do it well;
Grant us thy glory to pursue,
And fondly of thy truth to tell.
What then shall harm us? In the end
Each sorrow shall a good appear,
And every trial thou shalt send
But bring our jubilee more near.
COME, let us leave the vain, the proud,
The ambitious, and the worldly-wise;
Pomp's revels, turbulent and loud
And pleasure's tempting vanities:
And let our hallowed converse be
Of Him who reared the mountains high,
Poured out the waters of the sea,
Painted the flowers, and arched the sky.
'Tis thus we feel and hear and see
Thoughts, hopes and joys to angels given-
Those chains of strengthening sympathy,
Which link the earthly soul to heaven.
It travels o'er the vast abyss
Of space and time, and joys to see
The pregnant future bright with bliss,
And love, and joy, and liberty.
Then bending down to earth again,
Full of glad hope-'t is trained to bear
The lightened weight of mortal pain :
The passing storm of earthly care.
HENRY KIRKE WHITE.
COME, Christian brethren! ere we part,
Join every voice and every heart,
"Tis gone, that bright and orbed blaze,
Fast fading from our wistful gaze;
Yon mantling cloud has hid from sight
The last faint pulse of quivering light.
In darkness and in weariness
The traveller on his way must press,
One solemn hymn to God we raise,
One final song of grateful praise.
No gleam to watch on tree or tower,
Whiling away the lonesome hour.
Sun of my soul! Thou Saviour dear,
It is not night if Thou be near :
Oh may no earth-born cloud arise
To hide thee from thy servant's eyes.
When round thy wondrous works below
My searching rapturous glance I throw,
Tracing out Wisdom, Power and Love,
In earth or sky, in stream or grove;
Or by the light thy words disclose
Watch Time's full river as it flows,
Scanning thy gracious Providence,
Where not too deep for mortal sense :
When with dear friends sweet talk I hold,
And all the flowers of life unfold;-
Let not my heart within me burn,
Except in all I Thee discern.
Abide with me from morn till eve,
For without thee I cannot live:
Abide with me when night is nigh,
For without thee I dare not die.
Thou Framer of the light and dark,
Steer through the tempest, thine own ark:
Amid the howling wintry sea
Christians we here may meet no more,
But there is yet a happier shore;
And there released from toil and pain,
Dear brethren we shall meet again.
The rulers of this Christian land,
"Twixt thee and us ordained to stand,-
Guide thou their course, O Lord, aright,
Let all do all as in thy sight.
Oh by thine own sad burthen, borne
So meekly up the hill of scorn,
Teach Thou thy priests their daily cross!
To bear as thine, nor count it loss!
If some poor wandering child of thine
Have spurned, to-day, the voice divine,
Now, Lord, the gracious work begin;
Let him no more lie down in sin.
Watch o'er the slave: enrich the poor
With blessings from thy boundless store :
Be every mourners sleep to night,
Like infant's slumbers, pure and light.
Come near, and bless us when we wake,
Ere through the world our way we take :
Till in the ocean of thy love
We lose ourselves in heaven above.
ASSEMBLED at thy great command,
Before thy face, dread King, we stand;
The voice that marshalled every star,
Has called thy people from afar.
We meet through distant lands to spread
The truth for which the martyrs bled;
Along the line to either pole-
The thunder of thy praise to roll.
First, bow our hearts beneath thy sway:
Then give thy growing empire way,
O'er wastes of sin-o'er fields of blood-
Till all mankind shall be subdued.
Our prayers assist-accept our praise-
Our hopes revive-our courage raise-
Our counsels aid-and oh! impart
The single eye-the faithful heart!
Forth with thy chosen heralds come,
Recal the wandering spirit home:
From Zion's mount send forth the sound
To spread the spacious earth around.
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