GOD'S MERCIES.

"Every day will I bless Thee; and I will praise Thy name for ever and ever."

WHEN all Thy mercies, O my God,
My rising soul surveys;
Transported with the view I'm lost
In wonder, love and praise.

O how shall words with equal warmth
The gratitude declare,

That glows within my ravished heart?
But Thou canst read it there!

Thy providence my life sustained,
And all my wants redrest,
When in the silent womb I lay,
And hung upon the breast.

To all my weak complaints and cries
Thy mercy lent an ear,

Ere yet my feeble thoughts had learned
To form themselves in prayer.

Unnumbered comforts to my soul

Thy tender care bestowed,

Before my

infant heart conceived

From whom those comforts flowed.

When in the slippery paths of youth

With heedless steps I ran,

Thine arm unseen conveyed me safe,

And led me up to man.

Through hidden dangers, toils, and deaths,
It gently cleared my way,

And through the pleasing snares of vice
More to be feared than they.

When worn with sickness, oft hast Thou
With health renewed my face,
And when in sin and sorrows sunk,
Revived my soul with grace.

Thy bounteous hand with worldly bliss
Has made my cup run o'er;
And in a kind and faithful friend

Has doubled all my store.

Ten thousand thousand precious gifts

My daily thanks employ ;

Nor is the least a cheerful heart,

That tastes those gifts with joy.

Through every period of my life
Thy goodness I'll pursue;
And, after death, in distant worlds
The glorious theme renew.

When nature fails, and day and night

Divide Thy works no more,

SOUL! fear not lest the harmony
Of spheres all tuneful at one time
Great Nature's myriad-voicéd chime
For thy weak voice too strong may be.

O! all the while the spheres are ringing,

Yea, while the seven bright Heavens are singing, While all the people of the sky

Unto their Lord make melody, —

The Lord still listens for thy part!
Each echo from a lonely heart
Upbeareth heavenward, ere it dieth,

The humblest voice "My God!" that crieth.

LAMARTINE.

THE BOOK OF NATURE.

"All Thy works praise Thee, O Lord, and Thy saints shall bless Thee."

THERE is a book, who runs may read,
Which heavenly truth imparts,

And all the lore its scholars need,
Pure eyes and Christian hearts.

The works of God above, below,
Within us and around,
Are pages in that book, to show
How God Himself is found.

The glorious sky embracing all
Is like the Maker's love,

Wherewith encompassed, great and small
and order move.

In peace

Two worlds are ours: 'tis only Sin

Forbids us to descry

The mystic heaven and earth within,

Plain as the sea and sky.

Thou, who hast given me eyes to see
And love this sight so fair,

Give me a heart to find out Thee,

And read Thee everywhere.

KEBLE.

THY KINGDOM COME.

LISTEN, awake, inquire:

What doth the watchman cry?
Is He, who proves the earth by fire,
Descending nigh?

What doth the watchman say,

Whose call the slumberer wakes? "The night hath nearly passed away; The morning breaks."

Priests! statesmen! be not dumb;
Seers! Peoples! shout aloud,
"Lord, let Thy kingdom quickly come!
O'erthrow the proud!"

Princes and nobles all!

Hark to the solemn cry :

Beneath your Judge oppressions fall ·

Your time draws nigh.

Tremble, ye men of ease,

Who worship self for God:

Wide sweeps the sword of His decrees:

Severe His rod !

Stand

up and brace the heart; Take courage, brethren brave!