In soothing accents, Jesus said, 'Lo it is I be not afraid.'
So, when in silence nature sleeps, And his lone watch the mourner keeps, One thought shall every pang remove- 'Trust, feeble man, thy Maker's love.'
Blest be the voice that breathes from heaven, To every heart in sunder riven-
When love and joy and hope are fled- Lo it is I! be not afraid."
When men with fiend-like passions rage, And foes yet fiercer foes engage;
Blest be the voice, though still and small, That whispers God is over all.'
He calms the tumult and the storm; He rules the seraph and the worm; No creature is by him forgot,
Or those who know, or know him not.
And when the last dread hour shall come, While shuddering nature waits her doom, This voice shall call the pious dead; 'Lo it is I! be not afraid.'
Confidence in God's Protection in the Dangers of Duty-Ps. cxxi.
UPWARD I lift mine eyes; From God is all my aid- The God that built the skies, And earth's foundation laid: God is the tower To which I fly; His grace is nigh In every hour.
The objects of his care; And God, where'er he calls, Protects in every snare : Those wakeful eyes That never sleep His servants keep When dangers rise.
In toils by night or day, In pestilential air, If duty guide my way,
Thou, Lord, art with me there : Thou art my sun,
And thou my shade, To guard my head By night or noon.
If guarded by thy word From evils worse than death, Well may I to thee, Lord, Commit my mortal breath : I'll go and come, Nor fear to die, If from on high
Thou call me home.
Reliance on the Goodness of God, a Remedy for Care.
How gracious is our God!
How kind his precepts are!
'Come, cast your burdens on the Lord,
And trust his constant care.'
Since he for ever reigns,
We may securely dwell ;
The hand which bears all nature up, Shall guide his children well.
Oh! why should anxious thoughts Oppress the sinking mind? Go fall before your Father's throne And sweet relief you'll find. 4
Devoutly fear his name, And know no other fear, In every scene of life and death Your Helper will be near.
THE Lord can clear the darkest skies; Can give us day for night; Make drops of sacred sorrow rise To rivers of delight.
The seed, though buried long in dust, Will not deceive our hope: The precious grain can ne'er be lost, Since God insures the crop.
The seeds of joy and glory sown
For saints in darkness here,
Shall rise and spring in worlds unknown, And a rich harvest bear.
God the best Judge of our Necessities.
AUTHOR of good! to thee we come : Thine ever-watchful eye
Alone can all our wants discern, Thy hand alone supply.
Oh let thy fear within us dwell! Thy love our footsteps guide! That love shall all vain loves expel; That fear, all fears beside.
And since, by passion's force subdued, Too oft the stubborn will, Mistaken, shuns the latent good, And grasps the specious ill:
Not to our wish, but to our want, Do thou thy gifts supply; The good, unask'd, O Father, grant; The ill, though ask'd, deny.
Confidence in the Perfections of God.
THE Lord! how tender is his love! His justice, how august!
Hence, all her fears my soul derives ; There, anchors all my trust.
He showers the manna from above, To feed the barren waste; Or points with death the fiery hail, And famine waits the blast.
His power directs the rushing wind, Or tips the bolt with flame; His goodness breathes in every breeze, And warms in every beam.
He bids distress forget to groan, The sick from anguish cease;
In dungeons spreads the healing wing, And softly whispers peace.
For me, O Lord, whatever lot, The hours commission'd bring- Do all my withering blessings die, Or fairer clusters spring-
Oh! grant that still, with grateful heart, My years resign'd may run : 'Tis thine to give, or to resume; And let thy will be done!
'Hitherto hath the Lord helped us.' 1 Sam. vii. 12.
My Helper, God! I bless his name; The same his power, his grace the same : The tokens of his friendly care
Open, and crown, and close the year.
I midst ten thousand dangers stand, Supported by his guardian hand; And see, when I survey my ways, Ten thousand monuments of praise.
Thus far his arm hath led me on; Thus far I make his mercy known; And while I tread this desert land, New blessings shall new songs demand.
My grateful soul, on life's last shore, Shall raise one sacred pillar more: Then bear, in his bright courts above, Inscriptions of immortal love.
Resignation and Thankfulness.
WHEN I Survey life's varied scene, Amid the darkest hours,
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