To rest the body hasteth, Itself of clothes divesteth, Type of mortality! I'll put it off, and o'er me Christ will the robe of glory Throw, and of immortality! Head, hands, and feet so tirèd Are glad the day's expirèd, That work comes to an end; My heart be fill'd with gladness That God from all earth's sadness, And from sin's toil relief will send. Lie down, my members tirèd Upon your couch desirèd, Lie down my wearied head! A day and hour is nearing They'll be for you preparing Beneath the sod, a quiet bed. Mine eyes scarce ope are keeping, A moment--I'll be sleeping, Where's body then and soul? In grace Thy care then make me, May evil ne'er o'ertake me, Thou Shepherd Lord of Israel! O Jesus, be my cover! And spread both Thy wings over Thy child, and shield Thou me! Though Satan would devour me, Let angels ever o'er me Sing, "This child shall uninjur'd be!" And you, my well belovèd! Shall by no ill be movèd, No danger shall betide. God peaceful slumbers send you, With golden arms defend you, Send guardian angels to your side! Miscellaneous. SUMMER SONG. Go forth, my heart, and seek delight In this summer time so bright, The bounties God displayeth, The garden's splendour go and see, Behold how God for me and thee Them gorgeously arrayeth. The trees with leaves are cover'd o'er, The earth with carpet spreads her floor Of green, all fresh and tender, The tulip and narcissus wear Attire of finer texture fair Than Solomon in splendour. The lark aspiring soars on high, Flies from her cleft the dove so shy, And seeks the woodland shadow; The nightingale with song so rare Delights and fills the ev'ning air O'er mountain, vale, and meadow. Leads forth her little brood the hen, The stork builds near the haunts of men, And feed their young the swallows; The stag so swift, the roe so light Of foot, come bounding from the height Into the grassy hollows. The brooklets murmur in the sand, And fringe the edge on either hand With myrtle rich in shadow; The shepherds and the sheep rejoice, In joy and mirth you hear their voice Sound from the neighb'ring meadow. The bee through all the live-long hours, Unwearied roams among the flow'rs, Its precious stores to gather; The strong juice of the vine each hour Is ever gaining strength and pow'r This glorious summer weather. While springeth fast the precious grain, The young and old exult again, Praise Him with all their powers, Whose benefits unceasing are, With gifts so manifold and rare Who human nature dowers.