ER is the foul's fincere defire, Utter'd or unexpreff'd ; The motion of a hidden fire, That trembles in the breast. Prayer is the burthen of a figh, The upward glancing of an eye, Prayer is the fimpleft form of speech Prayer the fublimest strains that reach Prayer is the Christian's vital breath, His watchword at the gates of death; Prayer is the contrite finner's voice, While Angels in their fongs rejoice, And cry, The faints in prayer appear as one, In word, and deed, and mind; While with the Father and the Son Their fellowship they find. Nor prayer is made on earth alone, The Holy Spirit pleads; And Jefus on th' eternal throne For finners intercedes. O Thou by whom we come to God, JAMES MONTGOMERY. XXXIX. SAVOUR. JOME fweet favour of Thy favour XL. MERCIES. ENDER mercies on my way I will blefs the Lord for you. Though I have not all I would, Every present gift of good Source of all that comforts me, Let the fong I fing to Thee Be an everlasting Song. ANNA L. WARING. XLI. ETERNITY. OME, Brethren, let us go! The evening closeth round; 'Tis perilous to linger here On this wild defert ground. Come towards eternity. Prefs on from ftrength to strength, Nor dread your journey's toils nor length, For good its end fhall be. Come, wander on with joy, The hour that frees us from the flesh A little truth and love, A little courage yet, More free from earth, more apt to set Your hopes on things above. For this all things we dare,- O world, thou art too small, Whither Chrift guides us ever nigher, Where God is all in all. Friend of our perfect choice, Thou Joy of all that live, Being that know'ft not chance or change, All beauty, Lord, we fee, All blifs and life and love, In Him in whom we live and move, And we are glad in Thee. TERSTEEGEN, 1731. XLII. EVENING HYMN. ARK! the Vefper Hymn is ftealing Now like moonlight waves retreating, THOMAS MOORE. XLIII. EVENING HYMN. N the dewy breath of Even, Thousand odours mingling rife, With her balmy offerings blending, Let our glad thanksgivings be Incense of our hearts to Thee! |