2 Time is the measure but of change ;

No present hour is found;
The past, the future, fill the range

Of Time's unceasing round.
Where, then, is now ? In realms above,

With God's atoning Lamb,
In regions of eternal love,

Where sits enthroned I AM
3 Then, pilgrim, let thy joys and tears

On Time no longer lean ;
But henceforth all thy hopes and fears

From earth's affections wean :
To God let votive accents rise;

With truth, with virtue, live; So all the bliss that Time denies

Eternity shall give.

472
L. M.

J. TAYLOR. True Length of Life. 1 LIKE shadows gliding o'er the plain,

Or clouds that roll successive on, Man's busy generations pass,

And while we gaze, their forms are gone. 2 " He lived, - he died ;” behold the sum,

The abstract of the historian's page! Alike, in God's all-seeing eye,

The infant's day, the patriarch's age. 3 O Father, in whose mighty hand

The boundless years and ages lie, Teach us thy boon of life to prize, And use the moments as they fly;

4 To crowd the narrow span of life

With wise designs and virtuous deeds ; So shall we wake from death's dark night

To share the glory that succeeds.

473
S. M.

DODDRIDGE The l'ncertainty of Life. 1 TO-MORROW, Lord, is thine,

Lodged in thy sovereign hand;
And, if its siin arise and shine,

It shines by thy command. 2 The present moment flies,

And bears our life away ;
0, make thy servants truly wise,

That they may live to-day. 3 One thing demands our care;

O, be it still pursued,
Lest, slighted once, the season fair

Should never be renewed. 4 To Jesus may we fly,

Swift as the morning light,
Lest life's young, golden beams should die

In sudden, endless night.

474
C. M.

Watts.
Frailty of Life.
1 THEE we adore, Eternal Name,

And humbly own to thee
How feeble is our mortal frame,

What dying worms are we.

2 Our wasting lives grow shorter still,

As months and days increase,
And every beating pulse we tell

Leaves but the number less.
3 The year rolls round, and steals away

The breath that first it gave;
Whate'er we do, where'er we be,

We're travelling to the grave. 4 Dangers stand thick through all the ground,

To push us to the tomb;
And fierce diseases wait around

To hurry mortals home.
5 Waken, O Lord, our drowsy sense,

To walk this dangerous road,
And, if our souls are hurried hence,

May they be found with God.

475
C. M.

J. NEWTON. Vanity of Life. 1 THE evils that beset our path

Who can prevent or cure ?
We stand upon the brink of death,

When most we seem secure.
2 If we to-day sweet peace possess,

It soon may be withdrawn;
Some change may plunge us in distress

Before to-morrow's dawn.
3 Disease and pain invade our health,

And find an easy prey ;
And oft, when least expected, wealth

Takes wings and flies away.

4 The gourds, from which we look for fruit,

Produce us only pain ;
A worm unseen attacks the root,

And all our hopes are vain.
5 Since sin has filled the earth with woe,

And creatures fade and die,
Lord, wean our hearts from things below,

And fix our hopes on high.

476

L. M.

J. R. ADAMS.

Ps. 49.

1 WHY should I fear in evil days,

With snares encompassed all around? What trust can transient treasures raise

For them in riches who abound? His brother who from death can save ?

What wealth can ransom him from God ? What mine of gold defraud the grave?

What hoards but vanish at his nod ?

2 To live forever is their dream ;

Their houses by their name they call; While, borne by time's relentless stream,

Around them wise and foolish fall; Their riches others must divide;

They plant, but others reap the fruit ; In honor man cannot abide,

To death devoted, like the brute. 3 This is their folly, this their way;

And yet in this their sons delight; Like sheep, of death the destined prey,

The future scorn of the upright;

The grave their beauty shall consume,

Their dwellings never see them more; But God shall raise me from the tomb,

And life for endless time restore. 4 What though thy foe in wealth increase,

And fame and glory crown his head ? Fear not, for all at death shall cease,

Nor fame, nor glory, crown the dead : While prospering all around thee smiled,

Yet to the grave shalt thou descend; The senseless pride of fortune's child

Shall share the brute creation's end.

477
L. M. 6L.

DODDRIDGE.
The transitory Nature of the World.
1 SPRING up, my soul, with ardent flight,
Nor let this earth delude thy sight

With glittering trifles gay and vain:
Wisdom divine directs thy view
To objects ever grand and new,

And faith displays the shining train.
2 Be dead, my hopes, to all below;
Nor let unbounded torrents flow,

When mourning o'er my withered joys: So this deceitful world is known; Possessed, I call it not my own,

Nor glory in its painted toys.
3 The empty pageant rolls along ;
The giddy, inexperienced throng

Pursue it with enchanted eyes;
It passeth in swift march away;
Still more and more its charms decay,

Till the last gaudy color dies.