Imatges de pÓgina

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 naine unless on solemn, just, and devout occasions. May I never mention it on those occasions, without acts of love and adoration. O Jet 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.


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Thou knowest that thou hast formed me

With passions wild and strong,
And listening to their witching voice,

Has often led me wrong.

When human weakness has come short," **

Or frailty stept aside;
Do thou all good, for such thou arts to

In shades of darkness hide.

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 friends desert, or foes oppress,

Or trouble lay me low;
If 'reft of those I fondly love,

From earthly ills I flee,
To seek sweet comfort from above,

Good Lord deliver me!

If wealth be mine-from all the snares

Which riches with them bring,
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

To gloomy thoughts I lie-
Or worn by slow disease away,

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,
Thou com’st array'd in pomp


To judge both quick and dead;
When trembling, shrinking from thy face,

Thy servant thou shalt see,
A suppliant at the bar of grace,-
Good Lord deliver me!

J. L.






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