"I'll tune my harp, I'll strike its wires, My Saviour's praise to waken; And keeps my heart unshaken. SELECTED AND PREPARED By the Committee of Publication of the American Sunday-School Union. PHILADELPHIA: AMERICAN SUNDAY-SCHOOL UNION, No. 146 Chesnut Street, THE ASTOR, LENOX AND 1902 Eastern District of Pennsylvania, to wit. BE IT REMEMBERED, that on the third day of İL.SI January, in the fifty-second year of the Independence of the United States of America, A. D. 1828, Paul Beck, ### junr. Treasurer, in trust for the American Sunday School Union, of the said District, hath deposited in this office the Title of a Book, the right whereof he claims as Proprietor, in the words following, to wit. SACRED POETRY. My Saviour's praise to waken; And keeps my heart unshaken. And tone my feelings for the skies.” In conformity to the act of the Congress of the United States, intituled, “ an act for the encouragement of learning, by securing the copies of maps, charts, and books, to the authors and proprie tors of such copies, during the times therein mentioned”-andalsi to the act, entitled, “ an act supplementary to an act, entitled, "an act for the encouragement of learning, by securing the copies of maps, charts, and books, to the authors and proprietors of stieh copies during the times therein mentioned," and extending the benefits thereof to the arts of designing, engraving, and etching historical and other prints." D. CALDWELL Clerk of the Eastern District of Pennsylvania, 1 1 Star of the morn, whose placid ray Beam'd mildly o’er yon sacred hill, Dispel the shades of nature's night! saw thee shine on gospel Jands, And sang the dawn of gospel day! CUIAS M ANON. UNCERTAINTY OF LIFE. 1 Like crowded forest trees we stand, And some are mark'd to fall; And soon shall smite us all. With its new foliage on, I passed and they were gone. With which I charge my page; of youth, For yet an hour to come; Can always balk the tomb. 5 Then let us fly, to Jesus fly, Whose powerful arm can save; And triumph o'er the grave. COWPER. RESIGNATION. 1 Oh thou whose mercy guides my way, Tho' now it seem severe, There is no mercy here! |