And may I here the path discern
That leads to endless day.

HYMN 454. C. M.

Prayer of the Aged.

M'I live upon thy truth;

Y God, my everlasting hope!

Thy hands have held my childhood up,
And strengthen'd all my youth.

2 My frame was fashion'd by thy pow'r, And shows thy skill vine;

And from my mother's painful hour,
I've been entirely thine.

3 Still has my life new wonders seen,
In each revolving year:
Behold, my days that yet remain,
I trust them to thy care.

4 Cast me not off, when strength declines, When hoary hairs arise:

1

And round me let thy glory shine,
Whene'er thy servant dies.

E

HYMN 455. C. M.

TERNAL Sire, enthron'd on high
Whom heav'nly hosts adore,
Who yet to suppliant dust art nigh:
Thy presence I implore.

2 Wilt thou forsake my hoary hairs,
And leave my fainting heart?
Who shall sustain my sinking years,
If God, my strength, depart?

8 O guide me down the steep of age.
And keep my passions, cool,

Teach me to scan the sacred

And practise ev'ry rule.

page,

4 Let me thy pow'r and truth proclaim
To the surviving age;

And leave a savour of thy name,
When I shall quit the stage.

5 That solemn day is hast'ning on;
My frame must soon decay.

My friends, my youth's companions gone,
Can I expect to stay?

6 My God! O smooth the mortal hour;
On thee my hope depends.
Support me with almighty pow'r,
While dust to dust descends.

7 Then let my soul, O gracious God!
Ascend to realms of day;

And in that sacred blest abode
Its endless anthems pay.

XXVI.

THE TROUBLES OF LIFE.

1

HYMN 456. P. M. 7s.

PRAs the love that crowns our days,

RAISE to God, immortal praise

Bounteous source of ev'ry joy!

Let thy praise our tongues employ.

2 All, that spring, with bounteous hand, Scatters o'er the smiling land;

All, that lib'ral autumn pours

From her rich o'erflowing stores:

3 These to thee, our God! we owe,
Source whence all our blessings flow!
And for these our souls shall raise
Grateful vows and solemn praise.
4 Yet should rising whirlwinds tear
From its stem the rip'ning ear;
Should the fig-tree's blasted shoot
Drop her green untimely fruit:

5 Should the vine put forth no more,
Nor the olive yield her store:
Though the sick'ning flocks should fall;
And the herds desert the stall:

6 Should thine alter'd hand restrain
Vernal show'rs and latter rain,
Blast each op'ning bud of joy,
And the rising year destroy:
7 Yet to thee our souls shall raise
Grateful vows and solemn praise;
And, when ev'ry blessing's flown,
Love thee-for thyself alone!

1

A

HYMN 457. s. M.

S various as the moon
Is man's estate below:

To his bright day of gladness soon
Succeeds a night of wo.

2 The night of wo resigns

Its darkness and its grief;
Again the morn of comfort shines,
And brings our souls relief.

3 Yet not from fickle chance
These varying scenes arise:
Our dark and brighter hours advance,
By laws supremely wise.

4 God measures out to all

Their lot of good and ill;

Nor this too great, nor that too small,
Ordain'd by heav'n's high will.

5 Hopeful and humble bear

1

Thy evil and thy good;

Nor by presumption, nor despair,
Weak mortal, be subdu’d.

HYMN 458. P. M. 7s.

ROVIDENCE, profusely kind,
Wheresoe'er you turn your eyes,
Bids you with a grateful mind
View a thousand blessings rise.
2 Thankful own what you enjoy :
But a changing world like this,
Where a thousand fears annoy,
Cannot give you perfect bliss.
3 Perfect bliss resides above,

Far above yon azure sky;
Bliss, that merits all your love,
Merits ev'ry anxious sigh.

4 What like this as earth to give?
O ye righteous! in your breast
Let the admonition live,

Nor on earth desire to rest.

5 When your bosom heaves a sigh,
Or your eye emits a tear,

Let your wishes rise on high,
Ardent rise to bliss sincere.

HYMN 459. s. M.

HOW gracious and how wise
Τα our chastising God I

1

And, O! how rich the blessings are,

That blossom from his rod!

2 He lifts it up on high,

With pity in his heart;

That ev'ry stroke his children feel
May grace and peace impart.

3 Instructed thus, they bow

And own his sov'reign sway;
They turn their erring footsteps back

To his forsaken way.

4 His cov'nant love they seek,
And seek the happy bands

That closer still engage their hearts,
To honour his commands.

5 Submissive, Lord! we yield
To discipline divine,

And bless the pains that make us still
More uniformly thine.

F

HYMN 460. L. M.

NATHER! I bless thy gentle hand: How kind was thy chastising rod, That forc'd my conscience to a stand, And brought my wand'ring soul to God! 2 Foolish and vain I went astray,

Ere I had felt thy scourges, Lord! I left my guide, and lost my way; But now I love and keep thy word. 3 'Tis good for me to wear the yoke, For pride is apt to rise and swell; 'Tis good to bear my Father's stroke, That I might learn his statutes well. 4 The law, that issues from thy mouth, Shall raise my cheerful passions more