2 Now in that peaceful fold I dwell.
And hear his voice of love divine:
O, for seraphic tongues, to tell

What joys unspeakable are mine.

3 Within my heart a temple stands,

539

And there the Lord of life comes down:
Soon in a house not made with hands
I shall receive my angel-crown.

GOD

Confidence in God. Ps. fxbíl.

YOD is my strong salvation;
What foe have I to fear?

In darkness and temptation
My light, my help, is near.
Though hosts encamp around me,
Firm to the fight I stand;
What terror can confound me
With God at my right hand?

2 Place on the Lord reliance;
My soul, with courage wait;
His truth be thine affiance,
When faint and desolate;
His might thy heart shall strengthen ;
His love thy joy increase;

540

Mercy thy days shall lengthen;
The Lord will give thee peace.

S. M.

Heavenly Joy on Earth.

COME, ye that love the Lord,

And let your joys be known;

WATTS

Join in a song with sweet accord,
And thus surround the throne.

2 The sorrows of the mind

Be banished from the place!
Religion never was designed
To make our pleasures less.

3 The hill of Zion yields

A thousand sacred sweets,
Before we reach the heavenly fields,

Or walk the golden streets.

4 Then let our songs abound, And every tear be dry;

We're marching through Immanuel's ground,
To fairer worlds on high.

541

WATTS.

H. M.

Safety in God.

O heaven I lift mine eyes;
From

Tron God is all my aid-
то

The God who built the skies,

And earth and nature made;
God is the tower to which I fly;
His grace is nigh in every hour.

2 My feet shall never slide,
And fall in fatal snares,

Since God, my guard and guide,
Defends me from my fears.

Those wakeful eyes, which never sleep,
Shall Israel keep when dangers rise.

3 No burning heats by day, No blasts of evening air, Shall take my health away,

If God be with me there.

Thou art my sun, and thou my shade,
To guard my head by night or noon.

4 Hast thou not pledged thy word
To save my soul from death?
And I can trust my Lord

I'll

To keep my mortal breath. go and come, nor fear to die, Till from on high thou call me home.

542

L. M.

BULFINCH.

“Did not our Mearts burn within us?"

HA

ATH not thy heart within thee burned
At evening's calm and holy hour,

As if its inmost depths discerned
The presence of a loftier power?

2 As they who once with Jesus trod,

With kindling breast his accents heard,
But knew not that the Son of God
Was uttering every burning word, —

3 Father of Jesus, thus thy voice
Speaks to our hearts in tones divine;
Our spirits tremble and rejoice,

But know not that the voice is thine.

4 Still be thy hallowed accents near;
To doubt and passion whisper peace;
Direct us on our journey here,

And bid, in heaven, our wanderings cease.

543

L. M.

God's Care our Comfort.

BEARD'S COLL

H! sweet it is to know, to feel,

OH

In all our gloom, our wanderings here, No night of sorrow can conceal

Man from thy notice, from thy care.

2 When disciplined by long distress,

And led through paths of fear and woe,
Say, dost thou love thy children less?
No! ever gracious Father, no!

3 No distance can outreach thine eye,
No night obscure thy endless day;
Be this my comfort when I sigh,
Be this my safeguard when I stray.

ocean,

And billows wild contend with angry roar, 'Tis said, far down beneath the wild commotion, That peaceful stillness reigneth, evermore.

2 Far, far beneath, the noise of tempests dieth, And silver waves chime ever peacefully, And no rude storm, how fierce soe'er it flieth, Disturbs the Sabbath of that deeper sea.

3 So to the heart that knows thy love, O Purest !
There is a temple, sacred evermore,
And all the babble of life's angry voices
Dies in hushed stillness, at its peaceful door.

4 Far, far away the roar of passion dieth,

And loving thoughts rise calm and peacefully, And no rude storm, how fierce soe'er it flieth, Disturbs the soul that dwells, O Lord, in thee.

5 O rest of rests! O peace serene, eternal ! Thou ever livest, and thou changest never; And in the secret of thy presence dwelleth Fulness of joy, forever and forever.

545

EACH

C. M.

The True Rest.

ALICE CARY.

ACH fearful storm that o'er us rolls,
Each path of peril trod,

Is but a means whereby our souls

Acquaint themselves with God.

2 Our wants and weakness, shame and sin,
His pitying kindness prove,
And all our lives are folded in
The mystery of his love.

3 His sun is shining, sure and fast,
O'er all our nights of dread;
Our darkness by his light, at last,
Shall be interpreted.

546

S. M.

The True Rest.

MONTGOMERY.

WHERE shall rest be found,
Rest for the weary soul?

'T were vain the ocean depths to sound,

Or pierce to either pole: