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SIXTH CHAPTER OF MATTHEW.
(THOMSON.] WHEN my
breast labours with oppressive care, And o'er my cheek descends the falling tear, While all my warring passions are at strife, Oh let me listen to the word of life! Raptures, deep felt, his doctrine did impart, And thus he raised from earth the drooping heart. Think not, when all your scanty stores afford Is spread at once upon the sparing board; Think not, when worn the homely robe appears, While on the roof the howling tempest bears; What farther shall this feeble life sustain, And what shall clothe these shivering limbs again, Say, does not life its nourishment exceed? And the frail body its investing weed? Behold and look away your low despairSee the light tenants of the barren air : To them, nor stores, nor granaries belong, Nought but the woodland and the pleasing song; Yet your kind heavenly Father bends his eye On the least wing that flits along the sky. To hina they sing, when spring renews the plain, To him they cry, in winter's pinching reign: Nor is their music nor their plaint in vain; He hears the gay and the distressful call, And with unsparing bounty fills them all. Observe the rising lilies snowy grace, Observe the various vegetable race; They neither toil, nor spin, but careless grow, Yet see how warm they blush, how bright they glow!
What regal vestments can with them compare!
(QUARLES.) WAGES of sin is death : the day is come, Wherein the equal hand of death must sum The several items of man's fading glory Into the easy total of one story. The brows that sweat for kingdoms and renowii, To glorify their temples with a crown; At length grow cold, and leave their honoured name To flourish in the uncertain blast of fame. This is the height that glorious mortals can Attain; this is the highest pitch of man. The mighty conqueror of the earth's great ball, Whose unconfined limits were too small For his extreme ambition to deserve,-Six feet of length and three of breadth must serve. This is the highest pitch that man can Ay; And, after all his triumph, he must die.
Lives he in wealth? Does well-deserved store
Lives he in pleasure? Does perpetual wirth
Lives be in honour ? bath his fair desert
Lives he a conqueror ? and doth heaven bless
Great and good God! thou Lord of life and death,
flesh with joy, and quit My better part of this false earth, and it Of some more sin; and for this transitory And tedious life enjoy a life of glory.
ROCK of ages, rent for me!
Let me hide myself in Thee; Let the water and the blood,
From Thy riven side which flow'd, Be of sin the double cure,
Cleanse me from its guilt and power!
Not the labour of my hands
Can fulfil Thy law's demands; Could my zeal no respite know,
Could my tears for ever flow, All for sin could not atone :
Thou must save, and Thou alone!
Nothing in my hand I bring,
Simply to Thy cross I cling: Naked, come to Thee for dress;
Helpless, look to Thee for grace; Vile, I to the fountain fly;
Wash me, Saviour, or I die.
While I draw this fleeting breath,
When my eyelids close in death, When I soar to worlds unknown,
See Thee on Thy judgment throne, Rock of ages, rent for me,
Let me hide myself in Thee !
THE HOUR OF PEACE.
And winds the vexed waves release,
Lord ! is not this the hour of peace ?
By turns to climb each parent's knees,
Lord! is not this the hour of peace ?
And hill and dale its rich increase
Lord ! is not this the hour of
And Faith beholds thy anger cease,
This, Father, this alone is peace !
(REV. H. STEBBING.] THERE's a sound of the summer coming from far, A wakening call to the earth, And brightly the light of the morning star, Falls where the rose has birth : There's a breath of meadows and odorous flowers, Mixed with the music of many bowers, And a spirit the light and music fills, 'The spirit of joy breathing where it wills !