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Glorious the hour, when, on the world new-sprung
From his creative hand, its Maker smiled,
Saw all things very good1, and rested mild
In holy Sabbath his glad works among;
The morning stars in joyful chorus sung2,
Shouted for joy those blessed beings styled
"The Sons of God," and man yet undefiled
Was happy, sin not yet his soul had stung..
But there is still a Sabbath, - and not less
But far more glorious, from the grave when rose
He who had died a ruin'd world to bless,
And now, victorious over all his foes3,
Before his hosts of saints triumphant goes,
Entering his rest of heavenly holiness.

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Morehead.

THE SABBATH MORN.

How still the morning of the hallow'd day!
Mute is the voice of rural labour: hush'd
The ploughboy's whistle and the milkmaid's song,
The scythe lies glittering in the dewy wreath
Of tedded grass, mingled with faded flowers,
That yester-morn bloom'd waving in the breeze.
Sounds the most faint attract the ear, the hum
Of early bee, the trickling of the dew,
The distant bleating, mid-way up the hill;
Calmness sits throned on yon unmoving cloud.
To him who wanders o'er the upland leas,

The blackbird's note comes mellower from the dale,
And sweeter from the sky the gladsome lark
Warbles his heaven-tuned song; the lulling brook
Murmurs more gently down the deep-worn glen;

1 "And God saw every thing that he had made, and, behold, it was very good."- Gen. i. 31.

2 "When the morning stars sang together, and all the sons of God

shouted aloud for joy."—Job, xxxviii.

7.

3" When he ascended up on high, he led captivity captive." - Eph. iv. 8.

While from yon lowly roof, whose curling smoke
O'ermounts the mist, is heard at intervals
The voice of psalms, the simple song of praise.

With dove-like wings, peace o'er yon village broods!
The dizzy mill-wheel rests; the anvil's din
Hath ceased; all, all around is quietness.
Less fearful on this day, the limping hare
Stops and looks back, and stops, and looks on man,
Her deadliest foe. The toil-worn horse, set free,
Unheedful of the pasture, roams at large;
And as his stiff unwieldy bulk he rolls,
His iron-arm'd hoofs gleam in the morning ray.
But chiefly man the day of rest enjoys.

Hail, SABBATH! thee I hail, the poor man's day!
On other days, the man of toil is doom'd
To eat his joyless bread, lonely; the ground

Both seat and board; screen'd from the Winter's cold,
And Summer's heat, by neighbouring hedge or tree;
But on this day, embosom'd in his home,
He shares the frugal meal with those he loves;
With those he loves he shares the heart-felt joy
Of giving thanks to God-not thanks of form,
A word and a grimace, but reverently,
With cover'd face, and upward earnest eye.

Hail, SABBATH! thee I hail, the poor man's day!
The pale mechanic now has leave to breathe
The morning air, pure from the city's smoke:
While wandering slowly up the river's side,
He meditates on HIM, whose power he marks
In each green tree that proudly spreads the bough,
As in the tiny dew-bent flowers that bloom
Around its root; and while he thus surveys
With elevated joy each rural charm,
He hopes, yet fears presumption in the hope,
That heaven may be one SABBATH without end!
Grahame.

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How shall I then attempt to sing of Him
Who, light himself, in uncreated light1
Invested deep, dwells awfully retired
From mortal eye, or angel's purer ken:
Whose single smile has, from the first of time,
Fill'd overflowing all those lamps of Heaven,
That beam for ever through the boundless sky;
But, should he hide his face, the astonish'd sun,
And all the extinguish'd stars, would loosening reel
Wide from their spheres, and Chaos come again.
And yet, was every faltering tongue of man,
Almighty Father, silent in thy praise,

Thy works themselves would raise a general voice;
Even in the depth of solitary woods,

By human foot untrod, proclaim thy power:
And to the quire celestial thee resound,
The eternal cause, support, and end of all!2

THE BIBLE.

Thomson.

Most wondrous Book! bright candle of the Lord!
Star of Eternity! The only star,

By which the bark of man could navigate

The sea of life, and gain the coast of bliss
Securely only star, which rose on time,
And, in its dark and troubled billows, still,
As generation driving swiftly by
Succeeded generation, threw a ray

Of Heaven's own light, and, to the hills of God,-
The everlasting hills,-pointed the sinner's eye.

*(G. and L.) confusion.

1 God is light, and in him is no darkness at all.”—1 John, i. 5.

2 Read Ps. cxlviii.

By Prophets, Seers, and Priests, and sacred Bards,
Evangelists, Apostles, men inspired1,

And, by the Holy Ghost, anointed, set
Apart and consecrated, to declare

On earth the counsels of the Eternal One,

This Book—this holiest, this sublimest Book

Was sent. Heaven's will, Heaven's code of laws entire
To man, this Book contained; defined the bounds
Of vice and virtue, and of life and death;

And what was shadow,—what was substance, — taught.
Pollok.

THE BOOK OF GOD.

I love the sacred Book of God!
No other can its place supply;
It points me to the saints' abode,
It gives me wings, and bids me fly.
Sweet Book! in thee my eyes discern
The image of my absent Lord;
From thine instructive page I learn
The joys his presence will afford.
In thee I read my title clear,

To mansions that will ne'er decay 2;
My Lord! oh, when will he appear,
And bear his prisoner far away?
Then shall I need thy light no more 3;
For nothing shall be then conceal'd:
When I have reach'd the heavenly shore,
The Lord himself will stand reveal'd.

When, 'midst the throng celestial placed,
The bright Original I see,
From which thy sacred page was traced,
Sweet book, I've no more need of thee.

But while I'm here, thou shalt supply
His place, and tell me of his love,
I'll read with faith's discerning eye,
And get a taste of joys above.

1 66 Holy men of God spake as they
were moved by the Holy Ghost.".
2 Pet. i. 21. See also 2 Tim. iii. 16.
2"In my Father's house are many
mansions: if it were not so, I would

have told you. I go to prepare a place for you."— John, xiv. 2.

3 46 Thy word is a lamp unto my feet, and a light unto my path.” Ps. cxix. 105.

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The rolling planets, and the glorious sun,
Still keep that order which they first begun :
They their first lesson constantly repeat,
Which their Creator, as a law, did set.
Above, below, exactly all obey:

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But wretched men have found another way.
Knowledge of good and evil, as at first 1,
(That vain persuasion,) keeps them still accurst.
The sacred word refusing as a guide,
Slaves they become to luxury and pride.
As clocks, remaining in the skilful hand
Of some great master, at the figure stand,
But, when abroad, neglected they do go,
At random strike, and the false hour do show;
So, from our Maker wandering, we stray,
Like birds that know not to their nests the way,
In Him we dwelt before our exile here,
And may, returning, find contentment there:
True joy may find, perfection of delight,
Behold his face, and shun eternal night.

Waller.

"Ye shall be as gods, knowing good and evil.”—Gen. iii. 5.

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