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289
Vanity of Life.

C.M. 1 THE evils that beset our path,

Who can prevent or cure ?
We stand upon the brink of death,

When most we seem secure.
2 Disease and pain invade our health,

And find an easy prey ;
And oft, when least expected, wealth

Takes wings, and flies away. 3 A fever or a blow can shake

Our wisdom's boasted rule;
And of the brightest genius make

A madman or a fool.
4 Since sin has filled the earth with woe,

And creatures fade and die,
Lord, draw our hearts from things below,

And fix our hopes on high. 290 Vanity of all Below.

C.M. 1 How vain are all things here below!

How false and yet how fair!
Each pleasure has its poison too,

And every sweet a snare.
2 The brightest things below the sky

Give but a flattering light;
We should suspect some danger nigh,

Where we possess delight.
3 Our joys may hide a specious snare,

Set for our heedless feet;
The rose a piercing thorn may wear,

A sting protect the sweet.

4 But they who God's sweet mercy know,

And live beneath His love,
Shall have their needs supplied below,

And praise their God above. 291 Broad and Narrow Way. C.M. 1 THERE is a way that leads to death,

A way that many go,
In spite of all that Wisdom saith

of sin and endless woe.
2 The way is smooth, and fair, and broad,

'Tis pleasant to the sight; But woe to those who take this road;

It leads to endless night. 3 A narrow way there likewise is,

That leads to joys above ; But few, alas ! do travel this ;

'Tis not the way they love. 4 How blest are they whose feet are found

In Wisdom's sacred way! They soon shall reach the happy ground,

And there for ever stay. 292 Wise and Foolish Builders. L.M.

(Matt. vii.)
1 EARTH is a wilderness of sand,

With driving winds on every hand :
How many build their houses here,

Nor seem the coming storm to fear! 2 There is a sure Foundation-Stone;

May we be builded thereupon !
Then shall we stand the last dread shock,
Safe on the everlasting Rock.

293 Shadows and Substance. 8.7. 1 TINSELS may appear to charm us,

Glittering toys may catch our eye ;
But they cannot feed nor warm us,

Nor can purchase solid joy.
2 Hungry souls, who seek for pleasure

In confusion, show, and noise,
Ever miss the sterling treasure,

Never find the heavenly prize. 3 Far above the world's distraction,

We must look for lasting bliss ;
For the world, by many an action,

Only lures us to distress.
4 Lord, 'tis Thou that must relieve us,

Thou alone that canst impart
Pleasures that shall ne'er deceive us,

Satisfaction to the heart.

294
The Rich Fool.

C.M. 1 WHILE a poor worldling boasted once,

As many now presume,
He heard the Lord Himself pronounce

His sudden, awful doom : 2 “This night, vain fool, thy soul must pass

Into a world unknown ;
And who shall then the stores possess

Which thou hast called thine own ?' 3 Thus blinded mortals fondly scheme

For happiness below;
Till death disturbs the pleasing dream,

And they awake to woe.

4 Ah ! who can speak the vast dismay

That fills the sinner's mind,
When, torn by death's strong hand away,

He leaves his all behind ?
5 Wretches who cleave to earthly things,

But are not rich to God,
Their dying hour is full of stings,

And hell their dark abode. 295 The Rich Man and Lazarus. 148th. 1 A WORLDLING spent each day

In luxury and state ;
While a believer lay

A beggar at his gate.
Think not the Lord's appointment strange ;
Death made a great and lasting change.
2 Death brought the saint release

From want, disease, and scorn,
And to the land of peace

His soul, by angels borne,
In Abraham's bosom safely placed,
Enjoys an everlasting feast.
3 The rich man also died,

And in a moment fell
From all his pomp and pride

Into the flames of hell ;
The beggar's bliss from far beheld,
His soul with double anguish filled.
· 4 Lord, make us truly wise

To choose Thy people's lot,
And earthly joys despise,
Which soon will be forgot :

The greatest evil we can fear,
Is to possess our portion here !

TIME. 296 Frailty of Man.

L.M. 1 ALMIGHTY Maker of my frame,

Teach me the measure of my days ;
Teach me to know how frail I am,

And spend the remnant to Thy praise. 2 My days are shorter than a span ;

A little point my life appears ;
How frail at best is dying man !

How vain are all his hopes and fears ! 3 Vain his ambition, noise, and show ;

Vain are the cares which rack his mind ;
He heaps up treasures mixed with woe,

He dies, and leaves them all behind. 4 O be a nobler portion mine!

Lord, may I bow before Thy throne,
Earth's fleeting treasures there resign,

And fix my hope on Thee alone. 297 Deceptive Pursuits.

C.M. 1 A SPAN is all that we can boast,

An inch or two of time;
Man is but vanity and dust

In all his flower and prime.
2 See the vain race of mortals move

Like shadows o'er the plain ;
They rage and strive, desire and love,

But all their noise is vain.

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