7 But happiest ye who seal'd and blest,
Back to your arms your treasure take,
With Jesu's mark impress'd,
To nurse for Jesu's sake.

8 O tender gem, and full of heaven!
Not in the twilight stars on high,
Not in moist flowers at even,
See we our God so nigh.

9 Sweet one, make haste and know him too,
Thine own adopting Father love,
That like thine earliest dew

438.

Thy dying sweets may prove.

Catechism.

1 OH say not, dream not, heavenly notes
To childish ears are vain;

That the young mind at random floats,
And cannot reach the strain.

2 Dim or unheard the words may fall,
And yet the heaven taught mind
May learn the sacred air, and all
The harmony unwind.

3 Was not our Lord a little child,
Taught by degrees to pray;
By father dear, and mother mild,
Instructed day by day.

4 And loved he not of heaven to talk,
With children in his sight;
To meet them in his daily walk,
And to his arms invite.

5 What though around his throne of fire

The everlasting chant

Be wafted from the seraph choir,
In glory jubilant.

6 Yet stoops he ever pleased to mark
Our rude essays of love;
Faint as the pipe of wakening lark,
Heard by some twilight grove.

7 Yet is he near us to survey

These bright and ordered files,
Like spring flowers in their best array,
All silence and all smiles.

8 Save that each little voice in turn,
Some glorious truth proclaims,
What sages would have died to learn,
Now taught by cottage dames.

9 And if some tones be false and low,
What are all prayers beneath,
But cries of babes that cannot know
Half the deep thought they breathe.

10 In his own words we Christ adore,
But angels as we speak
Higher above our meaning soar,
Than we o'er children weak.

11 And yet his words mean more than they,
And yet he owns their praise;
Why should we think he turns away,

439.

From infants' simple lays ?

Confirmation.

1 THE shadow of th' Almighty's cloud,

Calm on the tents of Israel lay,
While drooping paused twelve banners proud,
Till he arise and lead the way.

2 Then to the desert breeze unroll'd,
Cheerly the waving pennons fly,
Lion or eagle-each bright fold,
A loadstar to a warrior's eye.

3 So should thy champions ere the strife,
By holy hands o'ershadow'd kneel,
So fearless for their charmed life,
Bear to the end thy Spirit's seal.

4 Steady and pure as stars that beam,
In middle heaven-all mist above,
Seen deepest in the frozen stream; -
Such is their high courageous love.

5 Draw, Holy Ghost, thy seven-fold veil, Between us and the fires of youth; Breathe, Holy Ghost, thy fresh'ning gale, Our fever'd brow in age to soothe.

6 And oft as sin and sorrow tire

The hallow'd hour do thou renew, When beckon'd up the awful choir By pastoral hands toward thee we drew : 7 When trembling at the sacred rail,

We hid our eyes, and held our breath, Felt thee how strong, our hearts how frail, And long'd to own thee to the death.

8 For ever on our souls be traced

That blessing dear-that dove-like hand, A sheltering rock in memory's waste, O'ershadowing all the weary land.

440.

Holy Communion.

1 O GOD of mercy, God of might,
How should pale sinners bear the sight;
If, as thy power is surely here,
Thy open glory should appear ?

2 For now thy people are allow'd
To scale the mount, and pierce the cloud;
And faith may feed her eager view
With wonders Sinai never knew.

3 Fresh from the atoning sacrifice,
The world's Creator bleeding lies;
That man, his foe, by whom he bled,
May take him for his daily bread.

4 O agony of wavering thought,
When sinners first so near are brought!
It is my Maker-dare I stay?
My Saviour-dare I turn away?

5 Sweet, awful hour! the only sound,
One gentle footstep gliding round,
Offering by turns, on Jesu's part,
The cross to every hand and heart.

6 Refresh us, Lord, to hold it fast,
And when thy veil is drawn at last
Let us depart, where shadows cease,
With words of blessings, and of peace.

441.

On the Passing Bell.

1 HARK! 'tis the bell with solemn toll,
That speaks the spirit's flight
From earth to realms of endless day,
Or everlasting night.

2 "Ashes to ashes-dust to dust,"
Sin's awful curse demands;
Oh well! if pure before the throne
The soul accepted stands.

3 Oh well! for if uncleansed from guilt,
Through Christ's atoning blood;
With what dismay she now beholds
The presence of her God!

4 To live through an eternal death,
Eternal woe to bear!-
Father of mercy! God of grace!
Inspire and hear our prayer.

5 From sin, the sting of death and hell,
From enmity to thee,
Extend thine own Almighty arm,
To set the bond-slaves free.

6 So when the bell with solemn toll,
Shall speak our spirits' flight;
Angels their glad approach shall hail,
To realms of bliss and light!

442.

A Birth-Day Hymn.

1 I MY Ebenezer raise,
To my kind Redeemer's praise;
With a grateful heart I own,
Hitherto thy help I've known.

2 What may be my future lot,
Well I know concerns me not;
This should set my heart at rest,
What thy will ordains is best.

3 I my all to thee resign,

Father, let thy will be mine;
May but all thy dealings prove
Fruits of thy paternal love !

4 Guard me, Saviour, by thy power,
Guard me in the trying hour;
Let thy unremitting care,
Save me from the lurking snare.

5 Let my few remaining days
Be directed to thy praise;
So the last, the closing scene,
Shall be tranquil and serene.

6 To thy will I leave the rest,
Grant me but this one request,-
Both in life and death to prove,
Tokens of thy constant love.

1 WHEN thy harvest yields thee pleasure,
Thou the golden sheaf shalt bind;
To the poor belongs the treasure
Of the scatter'd ears behind :-
This thy God ordains to bless,
The widow and the fatherless.

2 When thine olive plants encreasing,
Pour thy plenty o'er the plain;
Grateful, thou shalt take the blessing,
But not search the boughs again;-
This thy God ordains to bless,
The widow and the fatherless.

3 When thy favour'd vintage flowing,
Gladdens thy autumnal scene,
Own the bounteous hand bestowing,
But the vines the poor shall glean :-
So thy God ordains to bless
The widow and the fatherless.