Which scatters blessings from its wings
To nations yet unborn.

5 Jesus, the friend of human kind,
Was crucified and slain !

Behold, the tomb its prey restores !
Behold, he lives again!

6 And while his conquering chariot wheels Ascend the lofty skies,

Broken, beneath his powerful cross,
Death's iron sceptre lies.

1 A GLORY gilds the sacred page,
Majestic as the sun;

It gives a light to every age;
It gives, but borrows none.

2 The hand that gave it, still supplies
The gracious light and heat;
Its truths upon the nations rise,
They rise, but never set.

3 Let endless thanks, O God! be thine,
For such a bright display,

As makes a world of darkness shine
With beams of heavenly day.

1 ALL-HAIL the power of Jesus' name! Let angels prostrate fall;

Bring forth the royal diadem,

And crown him Lord of all.

2 Ye chosen seed of Israel's race,
A remnant weak and small!
Hail him, who saves you by his grace,
And crown him Lord of all.

3 Ye Gentile sinners, ne'er forget
The wormwood and the gall;
Go-spread your trophies at his feet,
And crown him Lord of all.

4 Let every kindred, every tribe
On this terrestrial ball,
To him all majesty ascribe,
And crown him Lord of all.

5 O, that with yonder sacred throng,
We at his feet may fall;

We'll join the everlasting song,
And crown him Lord of all.

1 ALMIGHTY maker of my frame,
Teach me the measure of my days;
Teach me to know how frail I am,

And spend the remnant to thy praise.
2 My days are shorter than a span;
A little point my life appears:
How frail, at best, is dying man!

How vain are all his hopes and fears! 3 Vain his ambition, noise and show;

Vain are the cares which rack his mind:
He heaps up treasures mixed with wo,
And dies, and leaves them all behind.

4 O, be a heavenly portion mine!

My God, I bow before thy throne;
Earth's fleeting treasure I resign,
And fix my hope on thee alone.

1 AM I a soldier of the cross,

A follower of the Lamb?

And shall I fear to own his cause,-
Or blush to speak his name?

2 Must I be carried to the skies
On flowery beds of ease,

While others fought to win the prize,
And sailed through bloody seas?

3 Are there no foes for me to face?
Must I not stem the flood?

Is this vile world a friend to grace,
To help me on to God?

4 Sure I must fight if I would reign;
Increase my courage, Lord!
I'll bear the toil, endure the pain,
Supported by thy word.

5 Thy saints in all this glorious war
Shall conquer, though they die;
They see the triumph from afar,
And seize it with their eye.

6 When that illustrious day shall rise,
And all thy armies shine

In robes of victory through the skies,
The glory shall be thine.

1 AND must this body die?

WATTS.

This mortal frame decay?

And must these active limbs of mine
Lie mouldering in the clay ?

2 Corruption, earth, and worms
Shall but refine this flesh,

Till my triumphant spirit comes,
To put it on afresh.

3 God my Redeemer lives,

And often from the skies

Looks down, and watches all my dust,

Till he shall bid it rise.

4 Arrayed in glorious grace

Shall these vile bodies shine;
And every shape, and every face
Look heavenly and divine.

5 These lively hopes we owe
To Jesus' dying love;
We would adore his grace below,
And sing his power above.

6 Dear Lord, accept the praise

Of these our humble songs,

Till tunes of nobler sound we raise
With our immortal tongues.

9. L. M.

COLLYER'S COLL.

1 ANOTHER fleeting day is gone:

Slow o'er the west the shadows rise; Swift the soft-stealing hours have flown, And night's dark mantle veils the skies.

2 Another fleeting day is gone,

Swept from the records of the year;
And still, with each successive sun,
Life's fading visions disappear.

3 Another fleeting day is gone,
To join the fugitives before;
And I, when life's employ is done,
Shall sleep, to wake in time no more.

4 Another fleeting day is gone ;

But soon a fairer day shall rise,-
A day, whose never-setting sun

Shall pour its light o'er cloudless skies.

5 Another fleeting day is gone;

In solemn silence rest, my soul;
Bow down before his awful throne,
Who bids the morn and evening roll.

1 ANOTHER Six days' work is done,
Another sabbath is begun ;

Return, my soul, enjoy thy rest,
Improve the day thy God hath blessed.

2 O that our thoughts and thanks may rise, As grateful incense, to the skies;

And draw from heaven that sweet repose,
Which none but he that feels it knows.

3 This heavenly calm within the breast,
Is the dear pledge of glorious rest,
Which for the Church of God remains,
The end of cares, the end of pains.

4 In holy duties let the day,
In holy pleasures pass away;
How sweet a sabbath thus to spend,
In hope of one that ne'er shall end!

1 AWAKE, my soul, and with the sun
Thy daily stage of duty run;
Shake off dull sloth, and joyful rise
To pay thy morning sacrifice.

2 Lord! I my vows to thee renew:
Scatter my sins as morning dew;
Guard my first springs of thought and will,
And with thyself my spirit fill.

3 Direct, control, suggest, this day,
All I design, or do, or say;

That all my powers, with all their might,
In thy sole glory may unite.