4 Then, keep me, Lord! where'er I go—
Support me on my way,
Though, worn with poverty and woe,
My widowed footsteps stray!
5 To give my weakness strength, O God! Thy staff shall yet avail;
And though thou chasten with thy rod,
That staff shall never fail.
1 As the sweet flower which scents the morn, But withers in the rising day,
Thus lovely seemed the infant's dawn!
Thus swiftly fled his life away!
2 Ere sin could blight, or sorrow fade,
Death timely came with friendly care;
The opening bud to heaven conveyed,
And bade it bloom forever there.
3 Yet the sad hour that took the boy
Perhaps has spared a heavier doom,-
Snatched him from scenes of guilty joy,
Or from the pangs of ills to come.
4 He died before his infant soul
Had ever burned with wrong desire,
Had ever spurned at Heaven's control,
Or ever quenched its sacred fire.
5 He died to sin, he died to care,-
But for a moment felt the rod,
Then, rising on the viewless air,
His happy spirit soared to God.
1 AFFLICTION is a stormy deep,
Where wave resounds to wave;
Though o'er my head the billows roll,
I know the Lord can save.
2 When darkness and when sorrows rose,
And pressed on every side,
The Lord has still sustained my steps,
And still has been my guide.
3 Perhaps, before the morning dawn,
He will restore my peace;
For he who bade the tempest roar,
Can bid the tempest cease.
4 In the dark watches of the night
I'll count his mercies o'er;
I'll praise him for ten thousand past,
And humbly sue for more.
5 Here will I rest, here build my hopes, Nor murmur at his rod;
He's more than all the world to me,→
My health, my life, my God!
Power of Sin broken at Death.
1 OUR sins, alas! how strong they be! And, like a violent sea,
They break our duty, Lord, to thee,
And hurry us away.
2 The waves of trouble, how they rise!
How loud the tempests roar!
But death shall land our weary souls
Safe on the heavenly shore.
3 There, to fulfil his sweet commands
Our speedy feet shall move;
No sin shall clog our winged zeal,
Or cool our burning love.
4 There shall we sit, and sing and tell
The wonders of his grace;
Till heavenly raptures fire our hearts,
And smile in every face.
5 Forever his dear sacred name
Shall dwell upon our tongue;
And Jesus and salvation be
The close of every song.
1 OFT have I turned my eye within,
And brought to light some latent sin;
But pride, the vice I most detest,
Still lurks securely in my breast.
2 Here with a thousand arts she tries
To dress me in a fair disguise,
To make a guilty wretched worm
Put on an angel's brightest form.
3 She hides my follies from mine eyes,
And lifts my virtues to the skies;
And while the specious tale she tells,
Her own deformity conceals.
4 Rend, O my God, the veil away:
Bring forth the monster to the day;
Expose her hideous form to view,
And all her restless power subdue.
5 So shall humility divine
Again possess this heart of mine;
And form a temple for my God,
Which he will make his loved abode.
1 WHEREFORE should man, frail child of clay,-
Who, from the cradle to the shroud,
Lives but the insect of a day,-
O why should mortal man be proud?
2 His brightest visions just appear,-
Then vanish, and no more are found;
The stateliest pile his pride can rear,
A breath may level with the ground.
3 By doubt perplexed, in error lost,
With trembling step he seeks his way;
How vain of wisdom's gift the boast!
Of reason's lamp how faint the ray!
4 Follies and crimes, a countless sum,
Are crowded in life's little span :
How ill, alas! does pride become
That erring, guilty creature, man!
5 God of our lives! Father divine!
Give us a meek and lowly mind;
In modest worth O let us shine,
And peace in humble virtue find.
1 THE wandering star, and fleeting wind,
Both represent th' unstable mind;
The morning cloud, and early dew,
Bring our inconstancy to view.
2 But cloud and wind, and dew and star,
Faint and imperfect emblems are;
Nor can there ought in nature be
So fickle and so false as we.
3 Our outward walk, and inward frame,
Scarce through a single hour the same;
We vow, and straight our vows forget,
And then these very vows repeat.
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