4 Then, keep me, Lord! where'er I go— Support me on my way,
Though, worn with poverty and woe, My widowed footsteps stray!
5 To give my weakness strength, O God! Thy staff shall yet avail;
And though thou chasten with thy rod, That staff shall never fail.
1 As the sweet flower which scents the morn, But withers in the rising day,
Thus lovely seemed the infant's dawn! Thus swiftly fled his life away!
2 Ere sin could blight, or sorrow fade, Death timely came with friendly care; The opening bud to heaven conveyed, And bade it bloom forever there.
3 Yet the sad hour that took the boy Perhaps has spared a heavier doom,- Snatched him from scenes of guilty joy, Or from the pangs of ills to come.
4 He died before his infant soul Had ever burned with wrong desire, Had ever spurned at Heaven's control, Or ever quenched its sacred fire.
5 He died to sin, he died to care,- But for a moment felt the rod, Then, rising on the viewless air, His happy spirit soared to God.
1 AFFLICTION is a stormy deep,
Where wave resounds to wave; Though o'er my head the billows roll, I know the Lord can save.
2 When darkness and when sorrows rose, And pressed on every side, The Lord has still sustained my steps, And still has been my guide.
3 Perhaps, before the morning dawn, He will restore my peace; For he who bade the tempest roar, Can bid the tempest cease.
4 In the dark watches of the night I'll count his mercies o'er;
I'll praise him for ten thousand past, And humbly sue for more.
5 Here will I rest, here build my hopes, Nor murmur at his rod;
He's more than all the world to me,→ My health, my life, my God!
Power of Sin broken at Death.
1 OUR sins, alas! how strong they be! And, like a violent sea,
They break our duty, Lord, to thee, And hurry us away.
2 The waves of trouble, how they rise! How loud the tempests roar! But death shall land our weary souls Safe on the heavenly shore.
3 There, to fulfil his sweet commands Our speedy feet shall move; No sin shall clog our winged zeal, Or cool our burning love.
4 There shall we sit, and sing and tell The wonders of his grace; Till heavenly raptures fire our hearts, And smile in every face.
5 Forever his dear sacred name
Shall dwell upon our tongue; And Jesus and salvation be The close of every song.
1 OFT have I turned my eye within, And brought to light some latent sin; But pride, the vice I most detest, Still lurks securely in my breast.
2 Here with a thousand arts she tries To dress me in a fair disguise, To make a guilty wretched worm Put on an angel's brightest form.
3 She hides my follies from mine eyes, And lifts my virtues to the skies; And while the specious tale she tells, Her own deformity conceals.
4 Rend, O my God, the veil away: Bring forth the monster to the day; Expose her hideous form to view, And all her restless power subdue.
5 So shall humility divine Again possess this heart of mine; And form a temple for my God, Which he will make his loved abode.
1 WHEREFORE should man, frail child of clay,- Who, from the cradle to the shroud, Lives but the insect of a day,- O why should mortal man be proud?
2 His brightest visions just appear,- Then vanish, and no more are found; The stateliest pile his pride can rear, A breath may level with the ground.
3 By doubt perplexed, in error lost, With trembling step he seeks his way; How vain of wisdom's gift the boast! Of reason's lamp how faint the ray! 4 Follies and crimes, a countless sum, Are crowded in life's little span : How ill, alas! does pride become That erring, guilty creature, man! 5 God of our lives! Father divine! Give us a meek and lowly mind; In modest worth O let us shine, And peace in humble virtue find.
1 THE wandering star, and fleeting wind, Both represent th' unstable mind; The morning cloud, and early dew, Bring our inconstancy to view.
2 But cloud and wind, and dew and star, Faint and imperfect emblems are; Nor can there ought in nature be So fickle and so false as we.
3 Our outward walk, and inward frame, Scarce through a single hour the same; We vow, and straight our vows forget, And then these very vows repeat.
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