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Soon shall close thy earthly mission ;

Swift shall pass thy pilgrim days; Hope soon change to glad fruition,

Faith to sight, and prayer to praise.


AGAIN, O Lord, I ope my eyes,
Thy glorious light to see,
And share the gifts so largely lent
To thankless man by Thee.

And why has God o'er me this night
The watch so kindly kept?
And why have I so safely waked?
And why so sweetly slept?

And wherefore do I live and breathe? And wherefore have I still

The mind to know, the sense to choose, The strength to do Thy will?

Is it, to waste another day

In folly, sin, and shame?

To give to these my heart and hand, And spurn my Maker's claim?

Is it, for honour, wealth, or power
My heavenly hopes to sell?

Is it, to grasp at pleasure's flower
Upon the brink of hell?

Is it, to grow unto the world,
As glides the world from me;
Be one day nearer to the grave,
And farther, Lord, from Thee?

No! thus too many days I've spent! To Thee, then, this be given: Teach what I owe to man below, And to Thyself in heaven.

O, bring me to my Saviour's cross

For mercy for the past; And make me live the coming day As if it were my last!


SWEET evening hour! sweet evening hour!
That calms the air, and shuts the flower;
That brings the wild bird to her nest,
The infant to its mother's breast.

Sweet hour! that bids the labourer cease;
That gives the weary team release,

And leads them home, and crowns them there
With rest and shelter, food and care.

O season of soft sounds and hues,

Of twilight walks among the dews,
Of feelings calm, and converse sweet,
And thoughts too shadowy to repeat !

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