O blest the land! where all to Thee A tender homage pay! Where indigence and wealth agree To venerate thy sway! That land the wrath of Heaven may spare. When ruthless nations groan; Her guarded orphan's grateful prayer May rise to mercy's throne. Parent to those, whose infant days No human parent know; To Thee, O Charity, the praise Of filial love shall flow. II. We have no parent but our God; Yet will we not in grief despair; For He this vale of sorrow trod, To make the desolate his care. The voice of innocence and youth, To Thee, meek Saviour! may ascend; Thou God of Tenderness, and Truth, Of Infancy Thou art the Friend. Thro! tears, that fill the orphan's eye, With humble confidence we see Calamity, an holy tie! That binds our helpless tribe to Thee. For charity, angelic power! Thy fav'rite delegate below! Makes industry, our peaceful dower! A guard from indigence and woe. We have no parent, but our God; In Him we trust, who reigns above: Children He blest, when here He trod, And we are children of his love. _A Morning Hymn._ Awake my soul! in cheerful mood, Thy matin thanks to pay! The God, who gives thee rest, and food, Directs thee to be gay. The Jewish world was dark, and cold, There doubts and fears annoy: Thy Shepherd to his happier fold Brings light, and peace, and joy. Cease then, O Christian! cease to grieve In tempest, or in calm! Smile on affliction, and receive Her consecrated palm! _A Collection of Hymns._ Hymn written for the Rev. Mr. Walker, of Chichester. Where may zeal due succour find, Man, for thy unguarded mind? To shield thee, when temptations reign, From folly's snare, and vice's bane? The law of God, a Saviour's law, Justly heard with grateful awe, That alone pure light supplies To the simple, and the wise. He, whose heart, however tried, Keeps the word of God his guide, He walks secure, and undismay'd Amid misfortune's darkest shade. He, tho' tempests round Him roll, Feels a sacred calm of soul; Breathing, to his latest breath, Joy in life, and hope in death. _Hymn._ Since the Evening of Life will soon close, While I live, may I justly incline To diffuse peace of heart among those, Whose lives may be guided by mine! To Christ may I lead them to own The charms of his tender controul, And with gratitude gaze on His throne. Whom to serve is the joy of the soul! _Hymn to the Creator._ Source of all kind, all potent thought! Thou God of Goodness, and of Power! In Thee my soul, by trouble taught, Shall trust, as in protection's tower. The surest friend, the safest guard, In thy sweet mercy may I see! And solitude itself regard, As blessed intercourse with Thee! Lord! in whose hands are life, and death, So let me live, so let me die, That love may grace my vital breath, And faith, and hope, my final sigh! _Hymn on Charity._