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.