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Cunningham. 259 Herbert Knowles. 260 Wadsworth. 262 Bowring. 263 Darwin. 265 Mrs. Barbauld. 267 Sir J. E. Smith. 268 Bowring. 269

E. T. 270 Mrs. Barbauld. 271

"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,
Sabbath Hymn,
Public Worship,
Light from Religion,
Love to God,

Sabbath Hymn,

Sabbath Days-Modernized from "Son-Dayes," in

Vaughan's "Silex Scintillans,"

The Spiritual Law-Deut. xxx. 11—14,
The Happiness of the Godly,
Morning Hymn,.
The Cross of Christ,

M. 272
Id. 273
Milton. 274

J. Bowring. 276

"God is Love," .

Id. 277

Hymn "It is I; be not afraid," Sir James E. Smith. 278
The Creator's Works,

Wallace. 279
Thompson. 279
Cowper. 283
Caroline Fry. 284
Anonymous. 285
Mrs. Barbauld. 286

The Bible,

Love of God,

To a Butterfly resting on a Skull,
A Thought on Death,
The Widow of Nain,
†The Autumn Evening,

Bernard Barton. 271

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Furness. 287 . Peabody. 288


A cloud lay cradled near the setting sun,
Ah! when did wisdom covet length of days,
Ah me! these youthful bearers, robed in white,
All I feel, and hear, and see,

A mother's love-how sweet the name,

And is there care in heaven? and is there love,
And Rachel lies in Ephrath's land,

A Parish Priest was of the pilgrim train,

As the good shepherd leads his sheep,
At the close of the day, when the hamlet is still,
Ay, there ye shine, and there have shone,

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Child of the dust, I heard thee mourn,
Come, Disappointment, come!
Creature of air and light,

Dear is the hallow'd morn to me,
Dull Atheist! could a giddy dance,

Enthroned upon a hill of light,

Fallen is thy throne, O Israel,
Farewell, thou vase of splendor,






Begin, my soul, the exalted lay!
Behold the western evening light,
Behold this ruin! 'Twas a skull,
Bereft of all, when hopeless care,
Beyond, beyond that boundless sea,
Blessed be thy name for ever,.
Blessed state! and happy he,
Brighter than the rising day,
Bright be the skies that cover thee,.
Build'st thou on Wealth?-its wings are ever spread, 241
But who shall see the glorious day,






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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,

God is our refuge and defence,
God is good! each perfumed flower,
God is Love; his mercy brightens, .
God moves in a mysterious way,
God of the earth's extended plains!
Go, take the wings of morn,
Grace does not steel the faithful heart,
Group after group are gathering, such as prest,

Heave! mighty ocean, heave!

Here, in a little cave,

He sung of God, the mighty source,

He who delights to trace, with serious thought,
How fair is the rose! what a beautiful flower,
How shall I know thee in the sphere which keeps,
How shall I praise thee, Lord of light?
How sweetly flow'd the Gospel's sound,
How sweet, upon this sacred day,
How sweet and solemn, all alone,
How wither'd, faded, seems the form,
"Humility," said Lena, as she drew,

I am monarch of all I survey,
I dream'd:-I saw a rosy child,
If all our hopes and all our fears,
If human kindness meets return,
If I had Jubal's chorded shell,
If love, the noblest, purest, best,
If that high world, which lies beyond,

I had found out a sweet green spot,

I hear thee speak of a better land,

I love to muse, when none are nigh,
I love to see the falling leaf,
I love the organ's joyous swell,
In sleep's serene oblivion laid,
In the cross of Christ I glory, .
In trouble and in grief, O God,
I saw an aged man upon his bier,

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I seek the mountain cleft: alone,
Is there a time when moments flow,
Is there a lone and dreary hour,

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,

King of the world! I worship thee,.
Knell of departed years, .

Leaves have their time to fall,

Let deepest silence all around,
Look on him-through his dungeon grate,
Lord, who art merciful as well as just,
Low in the dim and sultry west,

Methinks it is good to be here,
Mother, I am dying now,
My God, all nature owns thy sway,
My mother's voice! how often creep,

Nay, William, nay, not so; the changeful year,
No moon hung o'er the sleeping earth,
Now breathes the ruddy Morn around,

O, could the soul oppress'd with care,
O'er Kedron's stream, and Salem's height,
O fear not thou to die,

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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, mingle with the widow's tears,
O most delightful hour by man,
O my soul, with all thy powers,
On yonder shore, on yonder shore,
-One adequate support, &c.,

O, the wrath of the Lord is a terrible thing!

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O think that, while you're weeping here,

O thou whose lips can well repeat,

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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,

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