The Lord's Prayer.

REV. EDWARD PEARSON.

'ATHER of all, supremely great,

FA

Of heaven and earth the Lord!

To Thee all creatures owe their birth; Be Thou by all adored!

Soon may Thy laws be truly known,
And o'er the world extend:
Soon to Thy wise and righteous sway
May all the nations bend!

As angels in the heavenly state
Thy blest commands fulfil,
So may Thy servants here on earth
Obey Thy holy will!

On Thee we day by day depend,
And on Thy care rely:

From daily dangers guard us safe,
Our daily wants supply!

Forgive our past offences, Lord!

Thy healing grace bestow: That mercy we to others grant,

To us in mercy show!

When from without temptations call,

Or lusts incite within,

Oh, give us strength each care to shun, And save our souls from sin.

Nearer, my God, to Thee.

ADDITIONAL VERSE.

The Rev. James Plumbtre.

For Thine's the kingdom-glory Thine,
And Thine almighty power:

It was at first, it now doth shine,
'And shall when Time's no more.

Nearer, my God, to Thee.
S. F. ADAMS.—Music by Stephen Glover.

NEARER, my God, to Thee,

Nearer to Thee;

E'en though it be a cross
That raiseth me,

Still all my song shall be,
Nearer, my God, to Thee,
Nearer to Thee!

Though, like a wanderer,
The sun gone down,

Darkness comes over me,
My rest a stone;

Yet in my dreams I'd be
Nearer, my God, to Thee,
Nearer to Thee!

There let my way appear
Steps unto heaven;

All that Thou sendest me

In mercy given;

Angels to beckon me

Nearer, my God, to Thee,

Nearer to Thee!

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Then, with my waking thoughts
Bright with Thy praise,

Out of my stony griefs

Bethel I'll raise;

So by my woes to be

Nearer, my God, to Thee,
Nearer to Thee!

And when on joyful wing
Cleaving the sky,

Sun, moon, and stars forgot,
Upward I fly,

Still all my song shall be,
Nearer, my God, to Thee,
Nearer to thee!

A

Abide with Me.

REV. H. F. LYTE.

BIDE with me; fast falls the eventide ;

The darkness deepens; Lord, with me abide;

When other helpers fail, and comforts flee,

Help of the helpless, oh, abide with me.

Swift to its close ebbs out life's little day;
Earth's joys grow dim, its glories pass away;
Change and decay in all around I see;
O Thou who changest not, abide with me.

Not a brief glance. I beg a passing word;
But, as Thou dwell'st with Thy disciples, Lord,
Familiar, condescending, patient, free,
Come, not to sojourn, but abide with me.

The Humble State.

Come not in terrors as the King of kings;
But kind and good, with healing in Thy wings;
Tears for all woes, a heart for every plea ;

Come, Friend of sinners, and thus bide with me.

I need Thy presence every passing hour;
What but Thy grace can foil the tempter's power?
Who like Thyself my guide and stay can be?
Through cloud and sunshine, Lord, abide with me.

I fear no foe with Thee at hand to bless;
Ills have no weight, and tears no bitterness;
Where is death's sting, where, grave, thy victory?
I triumph still, if Thou abide with me.

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Hold Thou Thy Cross before my closing eyes;
Shine through the gloom, and point me to the skies;
Heaven's morning breaks, and earth's vain shadows flee;
In life, in death, O Lord, abide with me.

The Humble State.

MRS HANNAH MORE.

REAT Lord of all things! Power divine!

GR

Breathe on this erring heart of mine

Thy grace serene and pure;

Defend my frail, my erring youth,

And teach me this important truth,

The humble are secure.

Teach me to bless my lowly lot,
Confined to this paternal cot,

Remote from regal state!

Content to court the cooling glade,
Inhale the breeze, enjoy the shade,

And love my humble fate.

No anxious vigils here I keep,
No dreams of gold disturb my sleep,
Nor lead my heart astray;
Nor blasting Envy's tainted gale
Pollutes the pleasures of the vale,
To vex my harmless day.

Yon tower which rears its head so high,
And bids defiance to the sky,

Invites the hostile winds :
Yon branching oak extending wide,
Provokes destruction by its pride,
And courts the fall it finds.

Then let me shun th' ambitious deed,
And all the dangerous paths which lead
To honour falsely won :
Lord in Thy sure protection blest,
Submissive will I ever rest,

And may Thy will be done!

"He shall Feed his Flock.”

RALPH ERSKINE.

OH, send me down a draught of love,

Or take me hence to drink above!

Here, Marah's water fills my cup;
But there, all griefs are swallow'd up.

Love here is scarce a faint desire;
But there, the spark's a flaming fire;
Joys here are drops, that passing flee;
But there, an overflowing sea.