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1 Our times are in thy hand, and thou Wilt guide our footsteps at thy will: Lord, to thy purposes we bow, Do thou thy purposes fulfil!
2 Life's mighty waters roll along, Thy spirit guides them as they roll; And waves on waves impetuous throng At thy command, at thy control.
3 Lord, we, thy children, look to thee, And with an humble, prostrate will, Find in thine all-sufficiency A claim to love and serve thee still.
521. S. M. Edmeston.
"Why sayest thou--my way is hid from the Lord?"
1 Along my earthly way, How many clouds are spread!
Darkness, with scarce one cheerful ray, Seems gathering o'er my head.
2 Yet, Father, thou art love: O hide not from my view!
But when I look, in prayer, above, Appear in mercy through!
3 My pathway is not hid; Thou knowest all my need; And I would do as Israel did,-- Follow where thou wilt lead.
4 Lead me, and then my feet Shall never, never stray; But safely I shall reach the seat Of happiness and day.
5 And O from that bright throne, I shall look back, and see,-- The path I went, and that alone, Was the right path for me.
522. C. M. Needham.
The Dead speaking to the Living.
1 Rise, O my soul! pursue the path By ancient worthies trod; Aspiring, view those holy men Who lived and walked with G.o.d.
2 Though dead, they speak in reason's ear, And in example live; Their faith, and hope, and mighty deeds, Still fresh instruction give.
3 Confiding in his heavenly strength, They conquered every foe; To his almighty power and grace Their crowns of life they owe.
4 Lord, may I ever keep in view The patterns thou hast given; And never wander from the road That led them safe to heaven.
523. C. M. Barbauld.
The Pilgrimage of Life.
1 Our country is Immanuel's ground; We seek that promised soil; The songs of Zion cheer our hearts, While strangers here we toil.
2 Oft do our eyes with joy o'erflow, And oft are bathed in tears; Yet naught but heaven our hopes can raise, And naught but sin our fears.
3 We tread the path our Master trod: We bear the cross he bore; And every thorn that wounds our feet, His temples pierced before.
4 Our powers are oft dissolved away In ecstasies of love; And while our bodies wander here, Our souls are fixed above.
5 We purge our mortal dross away, Refining as we run; But while we die to earth and sense, Our heaven is here begun.
524. C. M. Watts.
"We are fearfully and wonderfully made."
1 Let others boast how strong they be, Nor death nor danger fear; But we'll confess, O Lord, to thee, What feeble things we are.
2 Fresh as the gra.s.s our bodies stand, And flourish bright and gay; A blasting wind sweeps o'er the land, And fades the gra.s.s away.
3 Our life contains a thousand springs, And fails if one be gone; Strange! that a harp of thousand strings Should keep in tune so long.
4 But 'tis our G.o.d supports our frame, The G.o.d who built us first; Salvation to the Almighty Name That reared us from the dust!
525. C. M. Doddridge.
"Lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven."
1 These mortal joys, how soon they fade!
How swift they pa.s.s away!
The dying flower reclines its head, The beauty of a day.
2 Soon are those earthly treasures lost, We fondly call our own; Scarce the possession can we boast, When straight we find them gone.
3 But there are joys which cannot die, With G.o.d laid up in store; Treasures beyond the changing sky, More bright than golden ore.
4 The seeds which piety and love Have scattered here below, In the fair, fertile fields above To ample harvests grow.
526. L. M. Newton.
Lightning in the Night.