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2 What noble fruit the vines produce! The olive yields a shining juice:

Our hearts are cheered with generous wine;
With inward joy our faces shine.

3 He sets the sun his circling race,
Appoints the moon to change her face;
And, when thick darkness veils the day,
Calls out wild beasts to hunt their prey.
4 Fierce lions lead their young abroad,
And, roaring, ask their meat from God;
But when the morning beams arise,
The savage beast to covert flies.

5 Then man to daily labor goes;
The night was made for his repose;
Sleep is thy gift, that sweet relief
From tiresome toil and wasting grief.

6 How strange thy works! how great thy skill! And every land thy riches fill;

Thy wisdom round the world we see;
This spacious earth is full of thee.

41

L. M.

WATTS.

The Same. Ps. 104.

1 VAST are thy works, Almighty Lord;
All nature rests upon thy word;

And the whole race of creatures stands,
Waiting their portion from thy hands.
2 But when thy face is hid, they mourn,
And, dying, to their dust return;
Both man and beast their souls resign:
Life, breath, and spirit, all are thine.

3 Yet thou canst breathe on dust again, And fill the world with beasts and men; A word of thy creating breath

Repairs the wastes of time and death.

4 His works, the wonders of his might,
Are honored with his own delight;
How awful are his glorious ways!
The Lord is dreadful in his praise.

5 In thee my hopes and wishes meet,
And make my meditations sweet;
Thy praises shall my breath employ,
Till it expire in endless joy.

42

L. M.

J. Q. ADAMS

Ps. 104.

1 O LORD my God! how great art thou! With honor and with glory crowned; Light's dazzling splendors veil thy brow, And gird the universe around.

2 Spirits and angels thou hast made;
Thy ministers a flaming fire;

By thee were earth's foundations laid;
At thy rebuke the floods retire.

3 Thine are the fountains of the deep;
By thee their waters swell or fail;
Up to the mountain's summit creep,
Or shrink beneath the lowly vale.

4 Thy fingers mark their utmost bound;
That bound the waters may not pass;
Their moisture swells the teeming ground,
And paints the valleys o'er with grass.

5 The waving harvest, Lord, is thine;
The vineyard, and the olive's juice;
Corn, wine, and oil, by thee combine,
Life, gladness, beauty, to produce.

6 The moon for seasons thou hast made,
The sun for change of day and night;
Of darkness thine the deepest shade,
And thine the day's meridian light.
7 O Lord, thy works are all divine;

In wisdom hast thou made them all;
Earth's teeming multitudes are thine;
Thine-peopled ocean's great and small.

8 All these on thee for life depend;

Thy spirit speaks, and they are born;
They gather what thy bounties send;
Thy hand of plenty fills the horn.
9 Thy face is hidden, they turn pale,
With terror quake, with anguish burn;
Their breath thou givest to the gale;

They die, and to their dust return.

10 And thou, my soul, with pure delight,
Thy voice to bless thy Maker raise;
His praise let morning sing to night,
And night to morn repeat his praise.

43

P. M. MISS H. M. WILLIAMS.

"The Day is thine, the Night also is thine." Ps. lxxiv. 16, 17.

1 MY God! all nature owns thy sway;
Thou giv'st the night, and thou the day;
When all thy loved creation wakes,
When morning, rich in lustre, breaks,

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And bathes in dew the opening flower,
To thee we owe her fragrant hour;
And when she pours her choral song,
Her melodies to thee belong.

2 Or when, in paler tints arrayed,

The evening slowly spreads her shade,
That soothing shade, that grateful gloom,
Can, more than day's enlivening bloom,
Still every fond and vain desire,
And calmer, purer thoughts inspire;
From earth the pensive spirit free,
And lead the softened heart to thee.

3 In every scene thy hands have dressed,
In every form by thee impressed,
Upon the mountain's awful head,
Or where the sheltering woods are spread,
In every note that swells the gale,
Or tuneful stream that cheers the vale,
The cavern's depth, or echoing grove,
A voice is heard of praise and love.

4 As o'er thy work the seasons roll,
And soothe, with change of bliss, the soul,
O, never may their smiling train
Pass o'er the human sense in vain!
But oft, as on their charms we gaze,
Attune the wandering soul to praise;
And be the joys that most we prize
The joys that from thy favor rise!

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44

C. M.

God the Creator.

GROVE.

1 O LORD, how excellent thy name!
How glorious to behold,
Engraven fair on all thy works,
In characters of gold!

2 On heaven's immeasurable face,
In lines immensely great-
In small, on every leaf and flower
Creator God is writ.

3 Though reason be not given to all,
Nor voice to thee, O sun,

Their Maker all proclaim, and here
Their language is but one.

4 From land to land, from world to world,
Thy fame is echoed round;
And ages, as they pass, transmit
The never-dying sound.

5 O, let us all give praise to God,
And magnify his name;

The wonders of his power and love
Let the whole world proclaim!

45

C. M.

SCOTCH PARAPHRASES.

Creation.

1 LET heaven arise, let earth appear,
Said the Almighty Lord;

The heaven arose, the earth appeared,
At his creating word.

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