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199. For a New Year. (P. M.) 1 W HILE each revolving day demands

V A grateful tribute from my hands,

For mercies rich and free:
Can I a year enjoy, and yet
The praises of my God forget,

For all his love to me?
2 Shall I review my former state,
What matchless grace, to new create

A heart so hard and vile!
And through another year this grace,
Has crown's and brighten'd all my days,

And heighten'd nature's smile!
3 Was it paternal care to grant,
A kind supply of every want,

In seasons that are past?
So goodness great, my days have led,
And richly all my table spread,

Throughout the year that's past.
4 Should I the grateful song neglect,
And love's inspiring notes reject;

Nor sing my Saviour's praise ;
Nature, inanimate, would try,
To harmonize a thankful cry,

And tuneful accents raise !
5 But still with trembling I rejoice,
And hear the soft, and warning voice,

That this is not my home!
Another year, -how soon 'tis past!
Another year,-may be my last,

And guide me to the tomb!


00. The Blessings of the Spring. (C. M.)

1 CLOOD is the Lord, the heav'nly King,

W Who makes the earth his care,
Visits the pastures every spring,

And bids the grass appear.
2 The clouds, like rivers rais’d on high,

Pour out, at thy command,
Their watery blessings from the sky,

To cheer the thirsty land.
3 The soften'd ridges of the field,

Permit the corn to spring; The valleys rich provision yield,

And the poor labourers sing. 4 The little hills on every side,

Rejoice at falling showers ; The meadows, drest in all their pride, .

Perfume the air with flowers. 5 The barren clods, refresh'd with rain,

Promise a joyful crop; The parching ground looks green again,

To raise the reaper's hope. 6 The various months thy goodness crowns;

How bounteous are thy ways ! The bleating flocks spread o'er the downs, And shepherds shout thy praise.

201. The Return of Spring. (S. M.)
1 CREAT God, at thy command,

O Seasons in order rise:
Thy power and love in concert reign,

Through earth, and seas, and skies.
2 How balmy is the air!

How warm the solar beams !
And, to refresh the ground, the rains

Descend in gentle streams.
With grateful praise we own

Thy providential hand,
While grass for kine, and herb and corn

For men, enrich the land.
4 But greater still the gift

Of thine incarnate Son;
By him forgiveness, peace, and joy, .

Through endless ages run. 202. Waiting for Spring. (L. M.) 1 THOUGH cloudy skies, and northern bla:

1 Retard the gentle spring awhile ;
The sun will conqueror prove at last,
And nature wear a vernal smile.
2 The promise, which, from age to age,

Has brought the changing seasons round,
Again shall calm the winter's rage,

Perfume the air, and paint the ground. 3 The virtue of that first command,

I know still does, and will prevail,
That while the earth itself shall stand,
The spring and summer shall not fail.

Such changes are for us decreed ;
Believers have their winters too;
But spring shall certainly succeed,
And all their former life renew.
Winter and spring have each their use,
And each, in turn, his people know;
One kills the weeds their hearts produce,
The other makes their graces grow.
Though like dead trees awhile they seem,
Yet having life within their root,
The welcome spring's reviving beam,
Draws forth their blossoms, leaves, and fruit.
But if the tree indeed be dead,
It feels no change, though spring return:
Its leafless, naked, barren head,
Proclaims it only fit to burn.
3 Dear Lord, afford our souls a spring,

Thou know'st our winter has been long;
Shine forth, and warm our hearts to sing,
And thy rich grace shall be our song.


Spring. (C. M.)
1 RLEAK winter is subdu'd at length,

Compell’d to yield the day :
The sun, returning in his strength,

Drives all the storms away.
2 Behold the youthful spring is come,

How alter'd is the scene !
The trees and shrubs are dress'd in bloom,

The earth array'd in green.

3 Where'er we tread, beneath our feet,

The flowers spontaneous spring ;
And warbling birds, in concert sweet,

Invite our hearts to sing.
4 But, ah ! in vain I strive to join,

Oppress'd with sin and doubt;
I feel 'tis winter still within,

Though all is spring without.
5 Oh! would my Saviour from 'on high,

Break through these clouds, and shine! No creature then more blest than I,

No song more loud than mine.
6 Till then,-no softly-warbling thrush,

Nor cowslips sweet perfume,
Nor beauties of each painted busb,

Can dissipate my gloom.
7 To Adam, soon as he transgressid,

Thus Eden bloom'd in vain ;
Not paradise could give him rest,

Or sooth his heart-felt pain.
8 Yet here an emblem I perceive,

Of what the Lord can do ;
Dear Saviour, help me to believe,

That I may flourish too.
9 Thy word can soon my hopes revive,

Can overcome my foes,
And make my languid graces thrive,

And blossom like the rose.

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