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Wisdom descending from above,

The choicest token of Thy love.
3 Wisdom betimes to know the Lord,

To fear His name, and keep His word ;
To lead my feet in paths of truth,

And guide and guard my wandering youth. 4 Then

shouldst Thou grant me length of days, My life shall still proclaim Thy praise ; Or early death, I'll soar away To realms of everlasting day.

281

Pilgrim's Petition.

8.7.4.

1 GUIDE me, 0 Thou great Jehovah,

Pilgrim through this barren land ; I am weak, but Thou art mighty, Hold me with Thy powerful hand :

Bread of Heaven,

Feed me till I want no more.
2 Open Thou the crystal fountain,

Whence the healing streams do flow;
Let the fiery, cloudy pillaz
Lead me all my journey through:

Strong Deliverer,
Be Thou still my strength and shield.
3 When I tread the verge of Jordan,

Bid my anxious fears subside :
Death of death, and hell's destruction,
Land me safe on Canaan's side;

Songs of praises
I will ever give to Thee.

282 Desiring the Best Joys.

8.7. 1 MAY I love Thee, and adore Thee,

0 Thou bleeding, dying Lamb! Teach my heart to bend before Thee !

Kindle there a sacred flame ! 2 Teach me what I am by nature,

How to lift my thoughts on high ;
Teach me, O Thou great Creator,

How to live and how to die. 3 Prone, alas ! I am to wander

In pursuit of earthly joys;
Prone my fleeting hours to squander

'Mongst the world's alluring toys. 4 Let not earth with its devices

Steal my youth-my best of days;
Lord, preserve, when sin entices,

Make me shun its dangerous ways. 5 What's the earth, with all her treasures,

But a vain and empty show ?
Thou alone hast living pleasures,

Endless riches to bestow.

283
For Guidance.

C.M. 1 IF I have never yet begun

To tread the sacred road,
Lord, teach my wandering feet the way

To Zion's blest abode.
2 Or if I'm travelling in the path,

Assist me with Thy strength ;
And lead me safely on, till I

Shall reach Thy heaven at length.

M

3 O may my most sincere requests

Be all comprised in this,
To follow where Thy saints have led,

And then partake their bliss ! 284 Prayer for our Country. P.M.

i God bless our native land;
: Her strength and glory stand

Ever in Thee !
Her laws be true and pure,
Her throne and hearths secure;
And let her name endure-

Home of the free.
2 God smile upon our land,
And countless as the sand

Her blessings be!
Most favoured of the isles,
Though sin, alas ! defiles,
O may Thy prosp'ring smiles

Preserve her free!

DIFFERENCE BETWEEN THE RIGHTEOUS

AND THE WICKED, 285 Man Desires to be Happy. C.M. 1 MAN has a vast expansive soul,

Which still to bliss aspires ;
But nothing here from pole to pole

Can meet his large desires.
2 'Tis not in this dark world of sin

To give unfading joy;
The brightest gold poor mortals win

Is full of base alloy.

3 But God, who formed it pure at first,

Can raise the ruined soul;
He can subdue its raging thirst,

And its desires control. 4 How happy they who know His power

To save and satisfy !
They shall outlive life's fading hour,

Their bliss shall never die.

286

Vain Hopes of the Wicked. C.M. 1 THE rush may rise where waters flow,

And flags beside the stream;
But soon their verdure fades and dies

Before the scorching beam. 2 So is the sinner's hope cut off ;

Or, if it transient rise,
'Tis like the spider's airy web,

From every breath that flies.
3 This is the lot of wicked men,

Who Heaven's high laws despise ;
They quickly fall, and in their room

As quickly others rise.
But for the just, with gracious care,

God will His power employ;
He'll teach their lips to sing His praise,

And fill their hearts with joy.

C.M.

287 Earthly and Heavenly Joys.
1 THESE mortal joys, how soon they fade !

How swift they pass away,

C.X.

The dying flower reclines its head,

The beauty of a day!
2 Soon are those earthly treasures lost

We fondly call our own;
Scarce can we the possession boast,

Before we find them gone.
3 But there are joys that cannot die,

With God laid up in store;
Treasures beyond the changing sky,

Brighter than golden ore. 4 The seeds which God's free grace and love

Have scattered here below,
In the fair, fertile fields above.

To ample harvests grow.
288 False and True Hope.
1 As parched in the barren sands,

Beneath a burning sky, The worthless bramble withering stands,

And only grows to die; 2 Such is the sinner's awful case,

Who makes the world his trust, And dares his confidence to place

In vanity and dust.
3 A secret curse destroys his root,

And dries his moisture up;
He lives a while, but bears no fruit,

And dies without a hope.
4 But happy he whose hopes depend

Upon the Lord alone;
The soul who trusts in such a Friend

Can ne'er be overthrown.

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