3 Teach me in every various scene To keep my end in sight; And while I tread life's mazy track, Let wisdom guide me right. 4 That heavenly wisdom from above Abundantly impart; And let it guard, and guide, and warm, And penetrate my heart: 5 Till it shall lead me to thyself, Fountain of bliss and love! And all my darkness be dispersed In endless light above. 451. C. M. Moore. Heaven Desired. 1 The bird let loose in Eastern skies, Returning fondly home, Ne'er stoops to earth her wing, nor flies Where idle warblers roam. 2 But high she shoots through air and light-- Above all low delay, Where nothing earthly bounds her flight, Nor shadow dims her way. 3 So grant me, God, from every snare Of sinful passion free, Aloft through faith's serener air To hold my course to thee. 4 No sin to cloud, no lure to stay My soul, as home she springs; Thy sunshine on her joyful way, Thy freedom on her wings. 452. L. M. Stowell. The Mercy-seat. 1 From every stormy wind that blows, From every swelling tide of woes, There is a calm, a sure retreat; 'Tis found before the mercy-seat. 2 There is a place were Jesus sheds The oil of gladness on our heads,-- A place of all on earth most sweet; It is the heavenly mercy-seat. 3 There is a scene where spirits blend, Where friend holds fellowship with friend; Though sundered far, by faith they meet Around one common mercy-seat. 4 There, there, on eagle wings we soar, And sin and sense molest no more; And heaven comes down our souls to greet, And glory crowns the mercy-seat. 453. C. M. Steele. Thirsting after God. 1 When fainting in the sultry waste, And parched with thirst extreme, The weary pilgrim longs to taste The cool, refreshing stream. 2 So longs the weary, fainting mind, Oppressed with sins and woes, Some soul-reviving spring to find, Whence heavenly comfort flows. 3 O, may I thirst for thee, my God, With ardent, strong desire; And still, through all this desert road, To taste thy grace aspire. 4 Then shall my prayer to thee ascend, A grateful sacrifice; My mourning voice thou wilt attend, And grant me full supplies. 454. 7s. M. Newton. Self-Distrust. 1 'T is a point I long to know,-- Oft it causes anxious thought,-- Do I love the Lord, or no? Am I his, or am I not? 2 If I love, why am I thus? Why this dull and lifeless frame? Hardly, sure, can they be worse, Who have never heard his name. 3 If I pray, or hear, or read, Sin is mixed with all I do; You that love the Lord indeed, Tell me, is it thus with you?