694
C. M.

WATTS. An Evening Song. For a Child. 1 AND now another day is gone,

I'll sing my Maker's praise ;
My comforts every hour make known

His providence and grace.
2 But how my childhood runs to waste !

My sins, how great their sum !
Lord, give me pardon for the past,

And strength for days to come. 3 I lay my body down to sleep;

Let angels guard my head,
And through the hours of darkness keep

Their watch around my bed.
4 With cheerful heart I close my eyes,

Since thou wilt not remove,
And in the morning let me rise

Rejoicing in thy love.

695
L. M.

PIERPONT. Morning Hymn. For a Child. 1 O GOD, I thank thee that the night

In peace and rest hath passed away, And that I see, in this fair light,

My Father's smile, that makes it day. 2 Be thou my Guide, and let me live

As under thine all-seeing eye; Supply my wants, my sins forgive, And make me happy when I die,

696
L. M.

PIERPONT. Evening Hymn. For a Child. 1 ANOTHER day its course hath run,

And still, O God, thy child is blest; For thou hast been by day my Sun,

And thou wilt be by night my Rest. 2 Sweet sleep descends, my eyes to close;

And now, when all the world is still, I give my body to repose,

My spirit to my Father's will.

697
C. M.

WATTS. The aged Christian's Prayer. Ps. 71. 1 GOD of my childhood and my youth,

The Guide of all my days,
I have declared thy heavenly truth,

And told thy wondrous ways.
2 Wilt thou forsake my hoary hairs,

And leave my fainting heart? Who shall sustain my sinking years, If God, my Strength, depart ?

i 3 Let me thy power and truth proclaim

To the surviving age,
And leave a savor of thy name

When I shall quit the stage.
4. The land of silence and of death

Attends my next remove ;
O, may these poor remains of breath

Teach the wide world thy love.

698
C. M.

WATTS. The aged Saint's Reflection and Hope. Ps. 71. 1 MY God, my everlasting Hope,

I live upon thy truth;
Thy hands have held my childhood up,

And strengthened all my youth. 2 Still has my life new wonders seen

Repeated every year;
Behold, my days that yet remain,

I trust them to thy care.
3 Cast me not off when strength declines,

When hoary hairs arise ;
And round me let thy glories shine,

Whene'er thy servant dies.
4 Then, in the history of my age,

When men review my days,
They'll read thy love in every page,

In every line thy praise.

699
C. M.

ADDISON. The Traveller's Hymn. 1 HOW are thy servants blest, O Lord !

How sure is their defence ! Eternal wisdom is their guide,

Their help omnipotence. 2 In foreign realms, and lands remote,

Supported by thy care, They pass unhurt through burning climes,

And breathe in tainted air.

3 Thy mercy sweetens every soil,

Makes every region please ; The hoary, frozen hills it warms,

And smooths the boisterous seas. 4 Though by the dreadful tempest tossed,

High on the broken wave,
They know thou art not slow to hear,

Nor impotent to save.
5 The storm is laid; the winds retire,

Obedient to thy will ;
The sea, that roars at thy command,

At thy command is still.
6 In midst of dangers, fears, and death,

Thy goodness I'll adore,
And praise thee for thy mercies past,

And humbly hope for more.

700
L. M.

WATTS. The Seaman's Hymn. Ps. 107. 1 WOULD you behold the works of God,

His wonders in the world abroad,
Go with the mariners, and trace

The unknown regions of the seas.
2 They leave their native shores behind,

And seize the favor of the wind,
Till God command, and tempests rise,

That heave the ocean to the skies.
3 When land is far, and death is nigh,

Lost to all hope, to God they cry;
His mercy hears the loud address,
And sends salvation in distress.

4 He bids the winds their wrath assuage;

The furious waves forget their rage;
'Tis calm, and sailors smile to see

The haven where they wished to be. 5 O, may the sons of men record

The wondrous goodness of the Lord;
Let them their private offerings bring,
And in the church his glory sing.

701

L. M.

J. Q. Adams.

Ps. 107.

1 O THAT the race of men would raise

Their voices to their heavenly King, And with the sacrifice of praise

The glories of Jehovah sing ! Ye navigators of the sea,

Your course on ocean's tides who keep, And there Jehovah's wonders see,

His wonders in the briny deep! 2 He speaks; conflicting whirlwinds fly ;

The waves in swelling torrents flow; They mount, aspire to heaven on high;

They sink, as if to hell below: Their souls with terror melt away ;

They stagger, as if drunk with wine ; Their skill is vain, to thee they pray;

O, save them, Energy divine !
3 He stays the storm; the waves subside;

Their hearts with rapture are inspired;
Soft breezes waft them o'er the tide,
In gladness, to their port desired :