332. s. M. A timely Improvement of Life. Jer. xiii. 16. & James iv. 13. 1 THE swift-declining day-How fast its moments fly! 2 3 4 5 6 While evening's broad and gloomy shade Ye mortals! mark its pace; Improve the hours of light; And know, your Maker can command His word blots out the sun In its meridian blaze; And cuts from smiling vigorous youth On the dark mountain's brow Give glory to the Lord, Who rules the rolling sphere; Then shall new lustre break, Doddridge 333. C. M. The Account to be required for our Talents. 1 THE time draws near, when thou, my soul! 2 How many talents, O my God! But yet how few can there be found 3 My health, my time, my worldly store, 4 Much of my time, alas! I've lost, How careless of my grand concern! 5 O may the slothful servant's doom, Each talent may I well improve, 1 334. s. M. Light and Deliverance. + Exeter Coll. THE traveller, lost in night, Breathes many a longing sigh, And marks the welcome dawn of light, 2 Thus sweet, the dawn of day Beams o'er the fainting mind. 3 To slaves oppressed with chains, 4 Thus dear that Friend divine, 5 6 My God! to gospel light My dawn of hope I owe; Once, wandering in the shades of night, Thy hand redeemed the slave, Be all I am, and all I have, Devoted, Lord! to thee! 335. L. M. Mrs. Steele. Heaven the Reward of Virtuous Exertions. Dan. xii. 3 1 THERE is a glorious world on high, 2 There shall the servants of the Lord 3 How happy they, how truly wise, 5 On wings of faith and strong desire, And reach at last the shining choir, 336. c. M. Prospect of Heaven. Mrs. Steele. 1 THERE is a land of pure delight, 3 Sweet fields, beyond the swelling flood, So, to the Jews, old Canaan stood, 4 But timorous mortals start and shrink, 5 O could we make our doubts remove,- 6 Could we but stand, as Moses stood, Not Jordan's streams, nor death's cold flood, 337. L. M. Divine Mercy. Ps. cxxx. Watts. 1 THERE is forgiveness, Lord! with thee, 338. c. M. + Exeter Coll Earthly and Heavenly Treasures compared. Luke xii. 33. 1 THESE mortal joys-how soon they fade How swift they pass away! The dying flower reclines its head, The beauty of a day. |