653 J. NEWTON. Time, how swift! 1 WHILE, with ceaseless course, the sun Hasted through the former year, Never more to meet us here: They have done with all below; But how little none can know. 2 As the winged arrow flies, Speedily the mark to find, Darts, and leaves no trace behind, Bear us down life's rapid stream: All below is but a dream. 3 Thanks for mercies past receive ; Pardon of our sins renew; With eternity in view; Fill us with a Savior's love, May we dwell with thee above. 508 654 WATTS. The Seasons of the Year. Ps. 147. 1 WITH songs and honors sounding loud, Address the Lord on high ; And waters veil the sky. To cheer the plains below; And corn in valleys grow. He hears the raven's cry, Should raise his honors high. Of the declining year ; And wintry days appear. Descend and clothe the ground; In icy fetters bound. 6 He sends his word, and melts the snow; The fields no longer mourn; And bids the spring return. Obey his mighty word ; Praise ye the sovereign Lord. 655 DODDRIDGE. The Year crowned with the divine Goodness. 1 ETERNAL Source of every joy, Well may thy praise our lips employ, Whose goodness crowns the circling year. 2 Wide as the wheels of nature roll, Thy hand supports the steady pole; And darkness when to veil the skies. Embalms the air, and paints the land; To raise the corn, and cheer the vine. 4 Thy hand in autumn richly pours Through all our coasts redundant stores; No more a face of horror wear. 5 Seasons, and months, and weeks, and days, Demand successive songs of praise; With opening light and evening shade. 6 O, may our more harmonious tongues In worlds unknown pursue the songs, 510 656 PEABODY. The Autumn Evening. 1 BEHOLD the western evening light ! It melts in deeper gloom ; Descending to the tomb. 2 The winds breathe low; the yellow leaf Scarce whispers from the tree; When good men cease to be. 3 How beautiful, on all the hills, The crimson light is shed ! 'Tis like the peace the dying gives To mourners round his bed, The sunset beam is cast ! When loved ones breathe their last. 5 And, lo! above the dews of night The vesper star appears ; Whose eyes are dim with tears. Its glories shall restore; Shall wake, to close no more. 511 657 6s & As M. MRS. HEMANS. Funeral Prayer. 1 LOWLY and solemn be Father divine ! Alike are thine. 2 O Father, in that hour Shall disavow,- Sustain us, thou ! The thorn, the rod, Aid us, O God! Father divine ! Thine, only thine. 512 |