He is my soul's sweet Morning Star,
And he my rising Sun.

3 The opening heavens around me shine
With beams of sacred bliss,
While Jesus shews his heart is mine,
And whispers-I am his.

My soul would leave this heavy clay
At that transporting word;
Run up with joy the shining way,
T' embrace my dearest Lord!

5 Fearless of hell and ghastly death,
I'd break through every foe;
The wings of love, and arms of faith
Should bear me conqu'ror through.

HYMN 55. C. M.

Frail life, and succeeding eternity.
THEE we adore, Eternal Naine,
And humbly own to thee

1 TH

How feeble is our mortal frame:
What dying worms are we!

2 [Our wasting lives grow shorter still,
As months and days increase;
And every beating pulse we tell
Leaves but the number less.

3 The year rolls round, and steals away
The breath that first it gave;
Whate'er we do, where'er we be,
We're trav'ling to the grave.]

[b]

4 Dangers stand thick thro' all the ground, To push us to the tomb;

And fierce diseases wait around,
To hurry mortals home.

5 Good God, on what a slender thread
Hang everlasting things!

Th' eternal states of all the dead
Upon life's feeble strings!

6 Infinite joy, or endless wo,
Attends on every breath;
And yet how unconcern'd we go
Upon the brink of death!

7 Waken, O Lord, our drowsy sense
To walk this dang❜rous road;
And if our souls are hurried hence,
May they be found with God.

HYMN 56. C. M.

(b)

The misery of being without God in this world; or, vain prosperity.

1

NWho grow profanely great,

TO! I shall envy them no more

Though they increase their golden store,
And rise to wondrous height.

2 They taste of all the joys that grow
Upon this earthly clod;

Well, they may search the creature thro',
For they have ne'er a God.

3 Shake off the thoughts of dying too,
And think your life your own;
But death comes hast'ning on to you,
To mow your glory down.

Yes, you must bow your stately head;
Away your spirit flies;

And no kind angel near your bed,
To bear it to the skies.

5 Go now, and boast of all your stores
And tell how bright they shine;

→

Your heaps of glit'ring dust are yours,
And my Redeemer's mine!

HYMN 57. L. M.

[*]

The pleasures of a good conscience. 1 LORD, how secure and blast are they

Who feel the joys of pardon'd sin

Should storms of wrath shake earth & sea, Their minds have heaven and peace within. 2 The day glides sweetly o'er their heads, Made up of innocence and love;

And soft and silent as the shades,
Their nightly minutes gently move.

3 [Quick as their thoughts their joys come on, But fly not half so swift away

!

Their souls are ever bright as noon,
And calm as summer evenings be.

How oft they look to th' heavenly hills,
Where groves of living pleasures grow!
And longing hopes, and cheerful smiles,
Sit undisturb'd upon their brow.]

5 They scorn to seek our golden toys;
But spend the day and share the night
In numb'ring o'er the richer joys,
That heaven prepares for their delight.

6 While wretched we, like worms and moles,
Lie grov'ling in the dust below;
Almighty grace, renew our souls,
And we'll aspire to glory too.

HYMN 58. C. M.

[b]

The shortness of life, and the goodness of God.

1

ME! what an empty vapour 'tis,

And days how swift they are!

Swift as an Indian arrow flies,
Or like a shooting star.

2 [The present moments just appear
Then slide away in haste;

That we can never say-they're here:
But only say-they're past.

3. Our life is ever on the wing,
"And death is ever nigh;

The moment when our lives begin,
We all begin to die.]

4Yet, mighty God! our fleeting days
Thy lasting favours share;
Yet, with the bounties of thy grace,
Thou load'st the rolling year.

5 'Tis sovereign mercy finds us food,
And we are cloth'd with love;
While grace stands pointing out the road
That leads our souls above.

6 His goodness runs an endless round
All glory to the Lord!

His mercy never knows a bound;
And be his name ador'd!

7 Thus we begin the lasting song;
And when we close our eyes,
Let the next age thy praise prolong,
Till time and nature dies.

GL

HYMN 59. C. M.

Paradise on earth.

1LORY to God, who walks the sky, And sends his blessings through:

Who tells his saints of joys on high,
And gives a taste below

2 [Glory to God, who stoops his throne, That dust and worms may see't, And brings a glimpse of glory down Around his sacred feet.

3 When Christ, with all his graces crown'd Sheds his kind beams abroad, 'Tis a young heaven on earthly ground, And glory in the bud.

A blooming paradise of joy

In this wild desert springs;
And every sense I straight employ
On sweet celestial things.

5 White lilies all around appear,
And each his glory shows!
The Rose of Sharon blossoms here,
The fairest flower that blows.

6 Cheerful I feast on heavenly fruit,
And drink the pleasures down;
Pleasures that flow hard by the foot
Of the eternal throne!]

7 But ah! how soon my joys decay;
How soon my sins arise,

And snatch the heavenly scene away
From these lamenting eyes!

8 When shall the time, dear Jesus, when, The shining day appear,

That I shall leave these clouds of sin,
And guilt, and darkness here!

9 Up to the fields above the skies,
My hasty feet would go ;

There everlasting flowers arise,
And joys unwith'ring grow.