3 Amidst the various scenes of ills, Each blow some kind design fulfils; And can I murmur at my God, While love supreme directs the rod? 4 His hand will smooth my rugged way, And lead me to the realms of day; To milder skies, and brighter plains, Where everlasting pleasure reigns. 433. L. M. Watts. Self-knowledge, and Abstraction from Earth. 1 My God, permit me not to be A stranger to myself and thee: Amidst a thousand thoughts I rove, Forgetful of my highest love. 2 Why should my passions mix with earth, And thus debase my heavenly birth? Why should I cleave to things below, And let my God, my Saviour go? 3 Call me away from flesh and sense; Thy sovereign word can draw me thence: I would obey the voice divine, And all inferior joys resign. 4 Be earth, with all her scenes, withdrawn, Let noise and vanity be gone: In secret silence of the mind, My heaven, and there my God, I find. 434. 7s. & 6s. M. Anonymous. Rising towards Heaven. 1 Rise, my soul, and stretch thy wings, Thy better portion trace; Rise from transitory things, Towards heaven, thy native place: Sun, and moon, and stars decay, Time shall soon this earth remove; Rise, my soul, and haste away To seats prepared above. 2 Rivers to the ocean run, Nor stay in all their course; Fire ascending seeks the sun,-- Both speed them to their source: So a soul that's born of God Pants to view his glorious face, Upward tends to his abode, To rest in his embrace. 435. L. P. M. Anonymous. Christ Desired. 1 Come, O thou universal good! Balm of the wounded conscience, come! The hungry, dying spirit's food; The weary, wand'ring pilgrim's home; Haven to take the shipwrecked in, My everlasting rest from sin! 2 Come, O my comfort and delight! My strength and health, and shield, and sun My boast, my confidence, and might, My joy, my glory, and my crown; My gospel-hope, my calling's prize, My tree of life, my paradise. 436. C. M. Newton. "Unto you who believe he is precious." 1 How sweet the name of Jesus sounds In a believer's ear! It soothes his sorrows, heals his wounds, And drives away his fear. 2 It makes the wounded spirit whole, It calms the troubled breast; 'T is manna to the hungry soul, And, to the weary, rest. 3 Weak is the effort of my heart, And cold my warmest thought, But when I see thee as thou art, I'll praise thee as I ought. 4 Till then I would thy love proclaim, With every fleeting breath; And may the music of thy name Refresh my soul in death. 437. 11s. M. Mrs. Hale. The Lord's Prayer.