That Love has smiled from heaven
To cheer our path of sadness,

And lead the way, through earth's dull day,
To realms of endless gladness.

That light of love and glory

Has shone through Christ the Savior,
The holy Guide who lived and died
That we might live forever.
And since thy great compassion
Thus brings thy children near thee,
May we to praise devote our days,
And love as well as fear thee.

And when death's final summons

From earth's dear scenes shall move us, From friends, from foes, from joys, from woes,

From all that know and love us,

O, then, let hope attend us;

Thy peace to us be given;

That we may rise above the skies,

And sing thy praise in heaven.

ON LAYING THE CORNER STONE

OF THE THEOLOGICAL COLLEGE IN CAMBRIDGE,

July 6, 1825.

Tune, OLD HUNDRED.

O THOU, in whom alone is found

The strength by which our toil is blest,
Upon this consecrated ground

Now bid thy cloud of glory rest.

In thy great name we place this stone;
To thy great truth these walls we rear:
Long may they make thy glory known,
And long our Savior triumph here.

And while thy sons, from earth apart,

Here seek the truth from heaven that sprung,

Fill with thy spirit every heart,

With living fire touch every tongue.

Lord, feed thy church with peace and love;

Let sin and error pass away;

Till truth's full influence from above

Rejoice the earth with cloudless day.

AT THE

DEDICATION OF DIVINITY HALL.

1826.

WITH praise and prayer our gift we bring,
And consecrate to Power divine.

Great God, accept the offering,
And make it wholly, only thine.

O that we may not look in vain
To see thy glory here displayed!
As when, within thine ancient fane,
Thy royal servant knelt and prayed, -

We kneel- we pray with earnest voice;
Our fervent supplications swell;

Speak, Lord, and bid our souls rejoice.

To know that here thy grace shall dwell.

O, let thy presence ne'er depart;

Far hence be earth and error driven;
Raise, warm, and sanctify each heart,
And teach pure lips to plead for heaven.

Here let the love of God engage

The spirit's purest, first desires;

While Truth unfolds her ample page, And Zeal enkindles all her fires.

Thus honoring, and like their Lord, May gifted bands of teachers rise, To bear his glorious name abroad, And train immortals for the skies

THANKSGIVING SONG.

November, 1841.

I REMEMBER, I remember, when I was a little boy, How the last week in November always filled my heart with joy;

For then Thanksgiving always came with every kind of pie, And I for once could eat my fill, though father did sit by.

I remember, I remember, how on Monday they began With rolling paste, and chopping meat, and buttering patty-pan;

And proud was I to pound the crackers, or to stone the

plums,

Or crack the shagbarks with flat-irons that often cracked my thumbs.

I remember, I remember, how the two next busy days Kept the kitchen in an uproar, and the oven in a blaze; Till all was done and cleared away by Wednesday's evening skies,

And the proud tea-table smoked with four premonitory pies.

I remember, I remember, when the morning came at last, How joyfully at breakfast I perceived it was not Fast;