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For still, by high behest,
To a bright abode of rest,
On my parent Ocean's breast,

I hasten away.”

Many a dark morass,
Many a craggy mass,
Thy feeble force must pass,

Yet, yet delay!

“Though the marsh be dire and deep, Though the crag be stern and steep, , On, on my course must keep;

I may not stay:

For be it east or west,
To a home of glorious rest,
On the bright sea's boundless breast,

I hasten away.”

The warbling bowers beside thee,
The laughing flowers that hide thee,
With sweet accord they chide thee;

Sweet brooklet, stay!

"I taste of the fragrant flowers,
I respond to the warbling bowers,
And sweetly they charm the hours

Of my onward way:

But ceaseless, still in quest
Of that everlasting rest
On my parent Ocean's breast,

I hasten away."

GRANT. FOR LENT.

SAVIOUR! when in dust to thee
Low we bow the adoring knee,
When, repentant, to the skies
Scarce we lift our streaming eyes ;
O! by all the pains and woe,
Suffered once for man below,
Bending from thy throne on high,
Hear our solemn litany!

By thy helpless infant years,
By thy life of wants and tears,
By thy days of sore distress
In the savage wilderness;
By the dread permitted hour
of the insulting tempter's power,
Turn, O turn a pitying eye-
Hear our solemn litany!

By the sacred grief that wept
O'er the grave where Lazarus slept;
By the boding tears that flowed
Over Salem's loved abode;
By the anguished words that told,
Treachery lurked within thy fold;
From thy seat above the sky,
Hear our solemn litany!

By thine hour of dire despair,
By thine agony of prayer,
By the cross, the nail, the thorn;
Piercing spear, and torturing scorn!
By the gloom that veiled the skies
O'er that dreadful sacrifice,
Listen to our humble cry,
Hear our solemn litany!

By the deep expiring groan,
By the sad sepulchral stone,
By the vault whose dark abode
Held in vain the rising God;
O! from earth to heaven restored,
Mighty re-ascended Lord,
Listen, listen to the cry
Of our solemn litany!

GRANT.

AFFLICTION.

WHEN gathering clouds around I view,
And days are dark, and friends are few;
On him I lean, who, not in vain,
Experienced every human pain.
He sees my griefs, allays my fears,
And counts and treasures up my tears.

If aught should tempt my soul to stray
From heavenly Wisdom's narrow way;
To fly the good I would pursue,
Or do the thing I would not do;
Still He, who felt temptation's power,
Shall guard me in that dangerous hour.

If wounded love my bosom swell,
Despised by those I prized too well,

He shall his pitying aid bestow,
Who felt on earth severer woe;
At once betrayed, denied, or fled,
By those who shared his daily bread.

When vexing thoughts within me rise,
And, sore dismayed, my spirit dies;
Yet He, who once vouchsafed to bear
The sickening anguish of despair,
Shall sweetly soothe, shall gently dry,
The throbbing heart, the streaming eye.
When, mourning, o'er some stone I bend,
Which covers all that was a friend,
And from his voice, his hand, his smile,
Divides me for a little while;
Thou, Saviour, mark'st the tears I shed,
For Thou didst weep o'er Lazarus dead.

And O! when I have safely past
Through every conflict but the last;
Still, still unchanging, watch beside
My painful bed-for Thou hast died;
Then point to realms of cloudless day,
And wipe the latest tear away.

GRANT.

CONTRAST.

REFLECTED in the lake, I love

To mark the star of evening glow;
So tranquil in the heaven above,

So restless on the wave below.

Thus heavenly hope is all serene ;

But earthly hope, how bright soe'er, Still fluctuates o'er this changing scene, As false and fleeting as 'tis fair.

BISHOP HEBER,

MORNING HYMN.

Hues of the rich unfolding morn,
That, ere the glorious sun be born,
By some soft touch invisible
Around his path are taught to swell ;-

Thou rustling breeze, so fresh and gav,
That dancest forth at opening day,
And brushing by, with joyous wing,
Wakenest each little leaf to sing ;-

Ye fragrant clouds of dewy steam,
By which deep grove and tangled stream,
Pay, for soft rains in season given,
Their tribute to the genial Heaven ;-

Why waste your treasures of delight
Upon our thankless, joyless sight;
Who day by day to sin awake,
Seldom of heaven and you partake?

Oh! timely happy, timely wise,
Hearts that with rising morn arise !
Eyes that the beam celestial view,
Which evermore makes all things new !

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