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On thy garden deign to smile,
Raise the plants, enrich the soil ;
Soon thy presence will restore

Life to what seem'd dead before. 5 Lord, I long to be at home,

Where these changes never come!
Where the saints no winter fear,
Where 'tis spring throughout the year:
How unlike this state below!
There the flowers unwith’ring blow;
There no chilling blasts annoy ;
All is love, and bloom, and joy.

205.

The same. (P. M.)

1 THE winter is over and gone, THE

The thrush whistles sweet on the spray, The turtle breathes forth her soft moan,

The lark mounts and warbles away. 2 Shall every creature around,

Their voices in concert unite,
And I, the most favour'd, be found,

In praising, to take less delight?
3 Awake, then, my harp, and my lute!

Sweet organs, your notes softly swell!
No longer my lips shall be mute,

The Saviour's high praises to tell !
4 His love in my heart shed abroad,

My graces shall bloom as the spring;
This temple, his Spirit's abode;
My joy, as my duty, to sing.

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206. A Hymn for the Spring. (C. M.)
1
WHIL

HILE beauty clothes the fertile vale,
And blossoms on the

spray,
And fragrance breathes in every gale,

How sweet the vernal day!
2 How kind the influence of the skies;

Soft showers, with blessings fraught,
Bid verdure, beauty, fragrance rise,

And fix the roving thought.
3 O let my wand'ring heart confess,

With gratitude and love,
The bounteous hand that deigns to bless,
The garden, field, and grove.

.
4 That bounteous hayd my thoughts adore,

Beyond expression kind,
Hath sweeter, nobler gifts in store,

To bless the craving mind.
5 Inspir'd to praise, I then shall join,

Glad nature's cheerful song,
And love and gratitude divine,

Attune my joyful tongue.

HARVEST.

207. For the Weeks of Harvest. (C.M.)
1 THE rising morn, the closing day,

Repeat thy praise with grateful voice ;
Both in their turns thy pow'r display,
And laden with thy gifts rejoice.

2 Earth's wide extended, varying scenes,

All smiling round, thy bounty show;
From seas or clouds, full magazines,

Thy rich diffusive blessings flow. 3 Now earth receives the precious seed,

Which thy indulgent hand prepares ;
And nourishes tbe future bread,

And answers all the sower's cares.
4 Thy sweet refreshing show'rs attend,

And through the ridges gently flow,
Soft on the springing corn descend :

And thy kind blessing make it grow. 5 Thy goodness crowns the circling year;

Thy paths drop fatness all around;
E'en barren wilds thy praise declare,

And echoing hills return the sound. 6 Here spreading flocks adorn the plain ;

There plenty ev'ry charm displays;
Thy bounty clothes each lovely scene,
And joyful nature shouts thy praise.

208.

The same. (P.M.)

1 SE

EE! the corn again in ear!

How the fields and vallies smile !
Hårvest now is drawing near,
To repay the farmer's toil;
Gracious Lord, secure the crop,
Satisfy the poor with food;
In thy mercy is our bope,
We have sinn'd, but thou art good.

2 While I view the plenteous grain,

As it ripens on the stalk,
May I not instruction gain,
Helpful to my daily walk ?
All this plenty of the field,
Was produc'd from foreign seeds ;
For the earth itself would yield,

Only crops of useless weeds.
3 Though, when newly sown, it lay

Hid awhile beneath the ground,
(Some might think it thrown away)
Now a large increase is found :
Though conceald, it was not lost,-
Though it dy'd, it lives again ;-
Eastern storms, and nipping frost,

Have oppos’d its growth in vain. 4 Let the praise be all the Lord's,

As the benefit is our's !
He, in season, still affords,
Kindly heat, and gentle show'rs :
By his care the produce thrives,
Waving o'er the furrow'd lands;
And when harvest-time arrives,
Ready for the reaper stands.

5 Thus in barren hearts he sows,

Precious seeds of heavenly joy ;
Sin and hell in vain oppose,
None this harvest can destroy:
Threaten'd oft, yet still it blooms,
After many changes past,
Death, the reaper, when be comes,
Finds it fully ripe at last.

R

AUTUMN.

209. Autumnal Hymn. (L. M.)
1
GR

REAT God! at whose all pow'rful call,

At first arose this beauteous frame,
Thou bidd'st the seasons change, and all

The changing seasons speak thy name. 2 Thy bounty bids the infant year,

From winter-storms recover'd, rise ;
When thousand grateful scenes appear,

Fresh op’ning to our wond'ring eyes. 3 O how delightful 'tis to see,

The earth in vernal beauty drest!
While in each herb, and flow'r, and tree,

Thy blooming glories stand confest! 4 Aloft, full beaming reigns the sun,

And light and genial heat conveys :
And while he leads the seasons on,

From thee derives his quick’ning rays.
5 Around us from the teeming field,

Spring the rich grain, or purpled vine ;
At thy command they rise to yield,

The strength’ning bread, or cheering wine.
6 Indulgent God! from ev'ry part,
Thy plenteous blessings largely flow;

we taste, -- let ev'ry heart, With grateful love and duty glow.

We see,

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