The Lord's Prayer.-Matthew vi. 9—13.

Father of all, we bow to thee,

Who dwell'st in heaven ador'd,

But present still through all thy works, The universal Lord.

For ever hallow'd be thy name
By all beneath the skies;
And may thy kingdom still advance,
Till grace to glory rise.

A grateful homage may we yield,
With hearts resign'd to thee;
And as in heaven thy will is done,
On earth so let it be.

From day to day we humbly own
The hand that feeds us still :
Give us our bread, and teach to rest
Contented in thy will.

Our sins before thee we confess;
Oh may they be forgiv'n;
As we to others mercy shew,
We mercy beg from heav'n.

Still let thy grace our life direct,
From evil guard our way,
And in temptation's fatal path
Permit us not to stray.

For thine's the pow'r, the kingdom thine,
All glory's due to thee;
Thine from eternity they were,

And thine shall ever be.

Hay Time,

The grass and flowers which clothe the field,
And look so green and gay;
Touch'd by the scythe defenceless yield,
And fall and fade away.

Fit emblem of our fall'n state!
Thus in the scripture glass,

The young, the strong, the wise, the great,
May see themselves but grass.

Oh! trust not to your fleeting breath,
Nor call your time your own;
Around you see the scythe of death
Is mowing thousands down.

And you who hitherto are spared,
Must shortly yield your lives;
Your wisdom is to be prepar'd,
Before the stroke arrives.

The grass when dead revives no more;
You die to live again;

But oh! if death should prove the door
To everlasting pain!

Lord, help us to obey thy call,

That, from our sins set free,

When like the grass our bodies fall,
Our souls may spring to thee.

A Minute.

A minute, how soon it is flown,
And yet how important it is!
God calls ev'ry moment his own,
For all our existence is his ;

And tho' we may waste them in folly and play,

He notices each that we squander away.

Why should we a minute despise,
Because it so quickly is o'er ?
We know that it rapidly flies,

And therefore should prize it the more; Another, indeed, may appear in its stead, But that precious moment for ever is fled.

'Tis easy to squander our years
In idleness, folly, and strife;
But oh! no repentance or tears
Can bring back one moment of life.

But time, if well spent, and improv'd as it goes,

Will render life pleasant, and peaceful its close.

And when all the minutes are past,
Which God for our portion has given,
We shall cheerfully welcome the last,
If it safely conduct us to heaven.

The value of time, then, may all of us see, Not knowing how near our last minute may

be.

Sheep safe beneath their Shepherd's Eye.

The Saviour calls his people sheep,
And bids them on his love rely;
For he alone their souls can keep,
And he alone their wants supply.

The bull can fight, the hare can flee,
The ant in summer food prepare;
But helpless sheep, and such are we,
Depend upon the shepherd's care.

JEHOVAH is our shepherd's name,
Then what have we, tho' weak, to fear?
Our sin and folly we proclaim,
If we despond while he is near.

When Satan threatens to devour,
When troubles press on every side,
Think on our Shepherd's care and power,
He can defend and he provide.

See the rich pastures of his grace,
Where in full streams salvation flows!
There he appoints our resting-place,
And we may feed secure from foes.

There, 'midst the flock, the Shepherd dwells,

The sheep around in safety lie; The wolf, in vain, with malice swells, For he protects them with his eye.

Dear Lord, if I am one of thine,

From anxious thought I would be free; To trust, and love, and praise, is mineThe care of all belongs to thee.

Father, forgive them.-Luke xxiii. 34.

"Father, forgive," the Saviour said, "They know not what they do;" His heart was moved when thus he pray'd For me, my friends, and you.