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Our hearts, to wifdom's facred ways,
C. M. [S. STENNETT.] The Death of Infants.
2 Methinks I fee a thousand charms,
I take thefe tender lambs, faid he,
4 Death may the bands of life unloose,
Millions of Infant fouls compofe
5 Their feeble frames my pow'r shall raise, And mould with heav'nly fkill;
I'll give them tongues to fing my praise;
6 His words the happy parents hear,
C. M. [DODDRIDGE.]
On the Death of Children. Emourning friends, whofe ftreaming tears, Flow o'er your children dead, Say not, in transports of defpair, That all your hopes are fled.
2. While cleaving to that darling duft, In fond diftrefs you lie;
Rife, and with joy and rev'rence view,
3 Tho' your young branches torn away,
4 I'll give the mourners, faith the Lord,
5 Tranfient and vain is ev'ry hope,
C. M. [DODDRIDGE.] Comfort in Trouble. My God the cov'naut of thy love,
Abides forever fure;
And in its matchlefs grace I feel,
2 What tho' my house be not with thee, As nature could defire ;
To nobler joys than nature gives
3 Since thou, the everlasting God,
4 I welcome all thy fov'reign will; For all that will is love;
And when I know not what thou doft,
5 Thy cov❜nant the laft accent claims,
C. M. [RIPPON'S COLL.]
Fear not, it is I.
AND art thou, with us, gracious Lord? To diffipate our fear?"
Doft thou proclaim thyfelf our God?
2 Doft thou a father's bowels feel? For all thy humble faints?
And in fuch friendly accents fpeak
To footh their fad complaints?
3 Why droops our hearts? Why flow our eyes? While fuch a voice we hear?
Why rise our forrows, and our fears?
To all thefe other favors add,
And death itfeif fhall hear us fing,
P. M. [STEELE.]
2 I would fubmit to all thy will,
3 Thy love can cheer the darkfome gloom,
And bid me wait ferene;
Till hopes and joys immortal bloom,
My father, O permit my heart.
L. M. [RIPPON'S COLL.]
Confolation in forrow.
Thou giveft with paternal care,
3 Truft we to youth, or friends, or pow'r ?
4 When lowest funk, with grief and fhame
6 All things on earth, and all in heav'n, On thy eternal will depend ;
And all for greater good were giv❜n,
HYMN CCXXX. L. M. [S. STENNETT.] Thanksgiving Hymn.
TO God the univerfal King,
Let all mankind their tribute bring All that have breath your voices raife, Ir. fongs of never ceafing praife.
2 The fpacious earth on which we tread,
3 Here the bright fun that rules the day,