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COMFORT UNDER AFFLICTION.

[Grant.

WHEN gathering clouds around I view,
And days are dark, and friends are few,
On Him I lean, who not in vain
Experienced every human pain.
He sees my griefs, allays my fears,
And counts and treasures up my tears.

If aught should tempt my soul to stray
From heavenly wisdom's narrow way;
To fly the good I would pursue,
Or do the thing I would not do;
Still He, who felt temptation's power,
Shall guard me in that dangerous hour.

If wounded love my bosom swell,
Despised by those I prized too well;
He shall his pitying aid bestow,

Who felt on earth severer wo;

At once betrayed, denied, or fled,
By those who shared his daily bread.

When vexing thoughts within me rise,
And, sore dismayed, my spirit dies;
Yet He who did vouchsafe to bear
The sickening anguish of despair,
Shall sweetly soothe, shall gently dry,
The throbbing heart, the streaming eye.

When mourning o'er some stone 1 bend,
Which covers all that was a friend;
And from his voice, his hand, his smile,
Divides me for a little while;

Thou, Saviour, mark'st the tears I shed,
For thou didst weep o'er Lazarus dead.

And O! when I have safely passed
Through every conflict but the last;
Still, still unchanging, watch beside
My painful bed-for thou hast died;

Then point to realms of cloudless day, And wipe the latest tear away.

RESIGNATION.

[Edmeston.

Он, thou whose mercy guides my way,

Though now it seem severe;

Forbid my unbelief to say,

There is no mercy here!

Oh, grant me to desire the pain

That comes in kindness down,

More than the world's supremest gain

Succeeded by a frown.

Then, though thou bend my spirit low,

Love only shall I see;

The very hand that strikes the blow

Was wounded once for me.

RESIGNATION TO PROVIDENCE.

THE Lord; how tender is his love,

[Darwin.

His justice, how august;

Hence all her fears my soul derives,

There anchors all her trust.

He showers the manna from above,
To feed the barren waste;

Or points with death the rushing hail,
And famine waits the blast.

He bids distress forget to groan,
The sick from anguish cease;

In dungeons spreads his healing wing,
And softly whispers-peace.

His vengeance rides the rushing wind
Or tips the bolt with flame:

His goodness breathes in every breeze,

And warms in every beam.

For me, O Lord! whatever lot

The hours commissioned bring;

If all my withering blessings die,

Or fairer clusters spring;

Oh! grant that still with grateful heart,
My years resigned may run ;

'Tis thine to give, or to resume ;
And may thy will be done!

THE COVENANTERS' COMMUNION.

WHEN the orb of morn enlightens

[Vedder.

Hill and mountain, mead and dell; When the dim horizon brightens,

And the serried clouds dispel;

And the sun-flower eastward bending,

Its fidelity to prove :

Be thy gratitude ascending

Unto him whose name is Love.

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