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النشر الإلكتروني

Weep not o'er these eyes that languish,
Upward turning towards their home;
Raptur'd they'll forget all anguish,
While they wait to see thee come.

There, my mother, pleasures centre-
Weeping, parting, care or wo,
Ne'er our Father's house shall enter--
Morn advances, let me go-

As, through this calm, holy dawning,
Silent glides my parting breath
To an everlasting morning,-
Gently close my eyes in death.

Blessings endless, richest blessings,
Pour their streams upon my heart!
(Though no language yet possessing)
Breathes my spirit e'er we part.
Yet to leave thee sorrowing rends me,
Though again his voice I hear;
Rise! may every grace attend thee
Rise! and seck to meet me there.

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IE SOUL THAT LOVES GOD, FINDS HIM
EVERY WHERE.

O THOU! by long experience tried,
Near whom no grief can long abide ;
Dear Lord, how full of sweet content
I pass my years of banishment!

All scenes alike engaging prove,
To souls impress'd with sacred love;
Where'er they dwell, they dwell in thee,
In heaven, on earth, or on the sea.

To me remains nor place, nor time,
My country is in ev'ry clime;

I can be calm and free from care
On any shore, since God is there.

While place we seek, or place we shun,
The soulds happiness in none,
But with a God to guide our way,
Tis equal joy to go or stay.

Could I be cast where thou art not,
That were indeed a dreadful lot!
But regions none remote I call,
Secure of finding God in all.

My country, Lord, art thou alone,
Nor other can I claim or own;
The point where all my wishes meet,
My law, my love, life's only sweet.

Ah! then! to his embrace repair,
My soul, thou art no stranger there;
There love divine shall be thy guard,
And peace and safety thy reward.

THE LAST JUDGMENT.

THAT day of wrath, that dreadful day
When heaven and earth shall pass away,
What power shall be the sinner's stay?
How shall be meet that dreadful day?
When shrivelling, like a parched scroll,
The flaming heaven's together roll;
When louder yet, and yet more dread,
Swells the high trump that wakes the dead.
Oh! on that day, that wrathful day,
When man to judgment wakes from clay,
Be THOU the trembling sinner's stay,
Though heaven and earth shall pass away,

MAKE ME AS A CHILD.

QUIET, Lord, my froward heart;

Make me teachable and mild, Upright, simple, free from art;

Make me as a weaned child;

From distrust and envy free,
Pleas'd with all that pleases thee.
What thou shalt to-day provide,
Let me as a child receive;
What to-morrow may betide,
Calmly to thy wisdom leave;
Tis enough that thou wilt care;
Why should I the burden bear?

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As a little child relies

On a care beyond his own
Knows he's neither strong nor wise;
Fears to stir a step alone:
Let me thus with thee abide,
As my father, guard and guide.

Thus preserv'd from Satan's wiles,
Safe from dangers, free from fears,
May I live upon thy smiles,

Till the promised hour appears,
When the sons of God shall prove

All their Father's boundless love,

THE WORLD NOT OUR CONSTANT DWELLING.

"WE'VE no abiding city here;"

This may distress the worldlings mind;
But should not cost the saint a tear,
Who hopes a better rest to find.

"We've no abiding city here;"

Sad truth were this to be our home; But, let the thought our spirits cheer, "We seek a city yet to come."

"We've no abiding city here;" Then let us live as pilgrims do; Let not the world our rest appear,

But let us haste from all below.

"We've no abiding city here;"
We seek a city out of sight;
Zion its name; the Lord is there,
It shines with everlasting light.

Oh! sweet abode of peace and love,
Where pilgrims freed from toil are bless'd!
Had I the pinions of the dove,

I'd flee to thee, and be at rest.

But hush, my soul, nor dare repine !
The time my God appoints is best,
While here, to do his will be mine,
And his to fix my time of rest.

FINIS.

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