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YOUTH, when devoted to the LORD,

Is pleasing in His eyes;
A flower, though offered in the bud,

Is no vain sacrifice.

'Tis easier far if we begin

To fear the LORD betimes ;
For sinners who grow old in sin,

Are harden'd by their crimes.

It saves us from a thousand snares

To mind religion young ; Grace will preserve our following years,

And make our virtues strong.

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To Thee, Almighty God, to Thee

Our hearts we now resign; 'T will please us to look back and see

That our whole lives were Thine.

WATTS.

CREATION.

WHEN God first clothed the earth with green,

And sprinkled it with flowers, There were no living creatures seen

Within its pleasant bowers.

Soon by His word God filled the earth,

And waters underneath,
With things above the plants in worth,

That feel, and move, and breathe.

The fishes, covered o'er with scales,

In ocean swiftly glide;
With their vast tails the wondrous whales

Scatter the waters wide,

The birds among the branches sing,

And chief the nightingale;
The peacock shines with painted wing,

The dove does softly wail.

Insects with humming fill the air,

And sparkle in the sun ; The butterfly by colors fair

Surpasses every one.

The beasts tread firmly on the ground;

The goat has nimble feet; The stag 's with branching antlers crowned;

The lamb 's most soft and sweet.

Pleasure the whole creation fills:

They leap, they swim, they fly; They skim the plains, they climb the hills,

Or in the valleys lie.

With herbs for food the LORD provides

His numerous family;
The lion with the lamb abides.

The dove and hawk agree.

In all the woods no sounds of strife,

Or piteous moans arise ;
None takes away his fellow's life,

And none expiring lies.

These happy days, alas, are past,

And death has entered here: Why did they not forever last;

And when did death appear?

MY MOTHER'S BIBLE.

77

MY MOTHER'S BIBLE.

This book is all that's left me now,

Tears will unbidden start-
With faltering lip and throbbing brow,

I press it to my heart.
For many generations past,

Here is our family tree;
My mother's hand this Bible clasp’d-

She, dying, gave it me.

Ah! well do I remember those

Whose names these records bear-
Who round the hearth-stone used to close,

After the evening prayer,
And speak of what these pages said,

In tones my heart would thrill ;
Though they are with the silent dead,

Here are they living still.

My father read this holy Book

To brothers, sisters dear:
How calm was my poor mother's look,

Who loved God's Word to hear !
Her angel face-I see it yet!

What thronging memories come! Again that little group is met

Within the halls of home.

Thou truest friend man ever knew,

Thy constancy I've tried ;
When all were false I've found thee true,

My counsellor and guide !
The mines of earth no treasures give

That could this volume buy;
In teaching me the way to live,

It taught me how to die.

BROTHERLY LOVE.

How sweet, how heavenly is the sight,

When those who love the LORD, In one another's peace delight,

And so fulfil His word!

O may we feel each brother's sigh,

And with him bear a part;
May sorrows flow from eye to eye,

And joy from heart to heart.

Free us from envy, scorn, and pride,

Our wishes fix above;
May each his brother's failings hide,

And show a brother's love.

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