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Praise and Gratitude on Jehovah's
"Every plant which my heavenly Father hath not
planted shall be rooted up," "It is good to be here," Despondency corrected, An Evening Service,
The Folly of Atheism,
Public Worship, .
Light from Religion,
Love to God,
Herbert Knowles. 260
Mrs. Barbauld. 267 Sir J. E. Smith. 268
E. T. 270
Mrs. Barbauld. 271
Sabbath Days-Modernized from "Son-Dayes," in
Vaughan's "Silex Scintillans,"
Bernard Barton. 271
The Spiritual Law-Deut. xxx. 11—14,
The Happiness of the Godly,
"God is Love,"
J. Bowring. 276
Hymn "It is I; be not afraid," Sir James E. Smith. 278
The Creator's Works,
Love of God,
To a Butterfly resting on a Skull,
A Thought on Death,
†The Widow of Nain,
The Autumn Evening,
Wallace. 279 Thompson. 279 Cowper. 283 Caroline Fry. 284 Anonymous. 285 Mrs. Barbauld. 286
TABLE OF FIRST LINES.
A cloud lay cradled near the setting sun,
Ah me! these youthful bearers, robed in white,
A mother's love-how sweet the name,
And is there care in heaven? and is there love,
A Parish Priest was of the pilgrim train,
At the close of the day, when the hamlet is still,
Begin, my soul, the exalted lay!
Build'st thou on Wealth?-its wings are ever spread, 241
But who shall see the glorious day,
Child of the dust, I heard thee mourn,
Few are thy days, and full of wo,
Forgive thy foes;-nor that alone, .
From early childhood, even, as hath been said,
From Greenland's icy mountains,
He sung of God, the mighty source,
Group after group are gathering, such as prest,
Heave! mighty ocean, heave!
Here, in a little cave,
He who delights to trace, with serious thought,
I am monarch of all I survey,
I had found out a sweet green spot,
I seek the mountain cleft: alone,
Is there a time when moments flow,
It is not that my lot is low,
It is the one true Light, .
It must be sweet in childhood to give back,
It thunders! sons of dust, in reverence bow!
I will not sing a mortal's praise,
Look on him-through his dungeon grate,
Lord, who art merciful as well as just,
My God, all nature owns thy sway,
O, could the soul oppress'd with care,
My mother's voice! how often creep,
Nay, William, nay, not so; the changeful year,
No moon hung o'er the sleeping earth,
O'er Kedron's stream, and Salem's height,
O God! whose thunder shakes the sky,
Oh mighty is the Lord of Hosts,
Oh! weep for those that wept by Babel's stream,
O, the wrath of the Lord is a terrible thing!
O think that, while you're weeping here,
O thou whose lips can well repeat, .
O Thou whom eye hath seen not-nor shall see,
O Thou Great Being! what thou art,
! would you be assured you love your God,