With all my heart, O God! do I now renew the sacred vow, which, alas! I have so often violated. Father, I have sinned against heaven, and before thy sight, but I return with the prodigal. O let thy paternal kindness descend on me, even on me, O my Father! and for Jesus Christ's sake mercifully receive me. Grant, O Lord, that I may tomorrow show a due regard to all the parts of thy worship; that I may enter into thine house with recollected thoughts, composed behaviour, becoming reverence and sincere intentions of love; that I may hear thy word with a serious attention, with a true heart, and a particular application. May I to-morrow and ever, O Lord, have awful thoughts of thee. May I never mention thy holy name unless on solemn, just, and devout occasions. May I never mention it on those occasions, without acts of love and adoration. O let it be the great business of my life, to love and glorify thy holy name by all the means I can; by my lips, by my conversation, and by a public confession of thee before men, even to death, whenever thou art pleased to call me to it. Grant these petitions, blessed Lord, for Jesus Christ's sake. Amen. T HYMNS. THERE'S NOTHING TRUE BUT HEAVEN. This world is all a fleeting show, In man's illusion given; The smiles of joy, the tears of woe, There's nothing true but heaven! And false the light on glory's plume, As fading hues of even; And love, and hope, and beauty's bloom, Poor wanderers of a stormy day, From wave to wave we're driven; ON THE PROSPECT OF DEATH. O thou unknown Almighty Cause Of all my hope and fear, In whose dread presence, ere an hour, Perhaps I must appear; If I have wandered in those paths Of life I ought to shun, As something loudly in my breast Remonstrates I have done Thou knowest that thou hast formed me And listening to their witching voice, When human weakness has come short, Or frailty stept aside; Do thou all good, for such thou art, When with intention I have erred, No other plea I have, But thou art good, and goodness still Delighteth to forgive.-B. “GOOD LORD DELIVER US.”—(Litany.) In the dark season of distress, In sickness, want, or woe; If 'reft of those I fondly love, From earthly ills I flee, To seek sweet comfort from above, If wealth be mine-from all the snares Opression, avarice, worldly cares, Ambition's goading sting; From pride, and from that worst offence, Forgetfulness of Thee Whose hand that wealth did first dispense Good Lord deliver me! When on the bed of death, a prey Or rack'd with agony; Stung with remorse for what hath been, And dreading what may be, When death hath closed this mortal scene; Good Lord deliver me! And, oh! in that appalling hour, When clouds around thee spread, A suppliant at the bar of grace,- J. L. THE END. PRINTED BY J. EAMES, 7, TAVISTOCK STREET, COVENT GARDEN. |