2 Lovely songsters join their voices, 3 May each morn, that in succession, PUBLIC CHARITIES, &c. 113. Charity to the Poor; or, Pity to the Afflicted. 1 BLEST (L. M.) LEST is the man, whose bowels move, 2 His heart contrives for their relief, 3 His soul shall live secure on earth, 4 Or, if he languish on his couch, 114. The Blessings of the Pious and Charita 1 THRICH (L. M.) HRICE happy man who fears the Lor Honour and peace his days attend, And blessings to his seed descend. 2 Compassion dwells upon his mind, 3 When times grow dark, and tidings spread 4 His soul, well fix'd upon the Lord, 115. 'HA Liberality rewarded. (C. M.) APPY is he that fears the Lord, 2 As pity dwells within his breast, 3 No evil tidings shall surprise, 4 In times of general distress, Some beams of light shall shine; 5 His works of piety and love Remain before the Lord; Honour on earth, and joys above, 116. God's Blessing on the Merciful. (L. M.) 1 BLEST is the man, whose generous mind To works of mercy is inclin'd; The love of Christ his heart constrains, 2 With bounteous hands he feeds the poor, He gives, and still possesses more; A faithful God will thus regard, His deeds, which merit no reward. 3 The sons of need his pity move, He melts with sympathetic love; He gives to those who can't repay, Nor dares to frown the poor away. 4 A blessing Providence commands, On every labour of his hands; In health, or sickness, he shall find The Lord is gracious, good, and kind. 5 The merciful shall mercy have, In that bright world beyond the grave; 117. After a Charity Sermon for the Benefit of t 1 BRIGH Sick Poor. (C. M.) RIGHT source of everlasting love! And to thy sovereign bounty rear A monument of praise. 2 Thy mercy gilds the paths of life, Kindly restrains the rising tear, 3 When sunk in guilt, our souls approach'd The borders of despair; Thy grace, through Jesus' blood, proclaim'd 4 What shall we render, bounteous Lord, 5 To tents of woe, to beds of pain, And, with the gift thy hand bestows, 6 The widow's heart shall sing for joy, And hungering souls we'll gladly point 7 Thus passing through the vale of tears, Our Father's name divine. #118. For the Children of a Charity School. (L. M.) 1 HOW happy is our peaceful lot, Tho' number'd with the labouring poor; Boys.-The helpless sons of ignorance, 2 With pity our neglected youth, 3 Oft as the sabbath-day appears, |