5 When gladness wings my favored hour, Thy love my thoughts shall fill; Resigned, when storms of sorrow lower, My soul shall meet thy will.

6 My lifted eye, without a tear, The gathering storm shall see; My steadfast heart shall know no fear;-- That heart shall rest on thee!

423. L. M. Bowring.

Perpetual Praise.

1 When, wakened by thy voice of power, The hour of morning beams in light, My voice shall sing that morning hour, And thee, who mad'st that hour so bright.

2 The morning strengthens into noon; Earth's fairest beauties shine more fair; And noon and morning shall attune My grateful heart to praise and prayer.

3 When 'neath the evening western gate The sun's retiring rays are hid, My joy shall be to meditate, E'en as the pious patriarch did.

4 As twilight wears a darker hue, And gathering night creation dims, The twilight and the midnight, too, Shall have their harmonies and hymns.

5 So shall sweet thoughts, and thoughts sublime, My constant inspirations be; And every shifting scene of time Reflect, my G.o.d, a light from thee.

424. C. M. Mrs. Brown.

Secret Prayer.

1 I love to steal awhile away From every c.u.mbering care, And spend the hours of setting day In humble, grateful prayer.

2 I love to think on mercies past, And future good implore, And all my cares and sorrows cast On him whom I adore.

3 I love by faith to take a view Of brighter scenes in heaven; The prospect doth my strength renew, While here by tempests driven.

4 Thus, when life's toilsome day is o'er, May its departing ray Be calm as this impressive hour, And lead to endless day.

425. S. M. C. Wesley.

Prayer for Self-Consecration.

1 O G.o.d, my strength, my hope, On thee I cast my care, With humble confidence look up, And know thou hearest prayer.

2 O, for a G.o.dly fear, A quick-discerning eye, That looks to thee when sin is near, And sees the tempter fly!--

3 A spirit still prepared, And armed with jealous care, Forever standing on its guard, And watching unto prayer!

4 Lord, let me still abide, Nor from my hope remove, Till thou my patient spirit guide To better worlds above.

426. L. M. Moore.

Breathings of Grace.

1 Like morning, when her early breeze Breaks up the surface of the seas, That, in their furrows, dark with night, Her hand may sow the seeds of light;

2 Thy grace can send its breathings o'er The spirit, dark and lost before; And freshening all its depths, prepare For truth divine to enter there!

3 Till David touched his sacred lyre, In silence lay the unbreathing wire; But when he swept its chords along, E'en angels stooped to hear the song.

4 So sleeps the soul, till thou, O Lord, Shall deign to touch its lifeless chord; Till, waked by thee, its breath shall rise In music worthy of the skies.

427. S. M. Cowper.

Dependence on G.o.d.

1 To keep the lamp alive, With oil we fill the bowl; 'T is water makes the willow thrive, And grace that feeds the soul.

2 The Lord's unsparing hand Supplies the living stream; It is not at our own command, But still derived from him.

3 Man's wisdom is to seek His strength in G.o.d alone; And e'en an angel would be weak, Who trusted in his own.

4 Retreat beneath his wings, And in his grace confide; This more exalts the King of kings Than all your works beside.

5 In G.o.d is all our store, Grace issues from his throne; Whoever says, "I want no more,"

Confesses he has none.

428. 7s. M. 6l. Montgomery.

The Soul panting for G.o.d.

1 As the hart, with eager looks, Panteth for the water-brooks, So my soul, athirst for thee, Pants the living G.o.d to see; When, O when, with filial fear, Lord, shall I to thee draw near?

2 Why art thou cast down, my soul?