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Not seldom, clad in radiant vest,
Deceitfully goes forth the morn; Not seldom, evening in the west
Sinks smilingly forsworn.
The smoothest seas will sometimes prove,
To the confiding bark untrue; And if she trust the stars above,
They can be treacherous too.
The umbrageous oak, in pomp outspread,
Full oft, when storms the welkin rend,
It promised to defend.
Who didst vouchsafe for man to die;
No change can falsify.
I bent before Thy gracious throne,
And asked for peace, with suppliant knee; And peace was given,-nor peace alone,
But faith, and hope, and ecstacy.
Even as the needle, that directs the hour,
O CHRIST, our hope, our hearts' desire,
Redemption's only spring;
Its Saviour and its King.
Which laid our sins on Thee,
To set Thy people free!
But now the bonds of death are burst,
The ransom hath been paid ; And Thou art on thy Father's throne,
In glorious robes array'd.
O Christ, be Thou our present joy,
Our future great reward; Our only glory may it be
To glory in the Lord.
O LORD! munificent, benign,
Since last I met with Thee,
Which was enjoyed by me!
How many days, in goodness sent, Have been in sickening sadness spent!
How many nights have come, Which promised rest and sweet content, Yet left behind them when they went
Distress and grief and gloom!
How many purposes
have failed! How many doubts
heart assailed, And held my spirit fast ! How many sins have been bewailed! How many follies have prevailed
Since I confessed the last !
But still to Thee my spirit springs,
A safe asylum seeks:
And all Thy kindness speaks.
And, like a little child, I lay
“ Lord, take it—it is thine; Teach it to trust, to fear, to pray; Feed it with love by night and day,
And let Thy will be mine."
Thou art the Way—to Thee alone
From sin and death we flee; And he who would the Father seek,
Must seek Him, Lord, by Thee.
Thou art the Truth,—thy word alone
True wisdom can impart;
And purify the heart.
Proclaims Thy conquering arm;
Nor death nor hell can harmı.
Grant us that way to know,
Whose joys eternal flow.
Oh, cling not, trembler, to life's fragile bark :
It fills—it soon must sink :
to think Of that wild waste; but look, oh ! look above,
And see the outstretched arm of Love. Cling not to this poor life; unlock thy clasp
Of fleeting, vapoury air. The world receding, soon will mock thy grasp;
But let the wings of prayer Take the blest breeze of heaven, and upward flee,
And life from God shall enter thee.