AN EVENING HYMN.-C. M.
And now another day is gone,

I'll sing my Maker's praise;
My comforts every hour make known
His providence and grace.

But how my childhood runs to waste!
My sins, how great their sum!
Lord, give me pardon for the past,
And strength for days to come.

Shepherd of souls! who dost not sleep,
Sustain my slumb'ring head!
And through the hours of darkness keep
Thy watch around my bed.

With cheerful heart I close mine eyes,
Since Thou wilt not remove;
And in the morning let me rise
Rejoicing in Thy love.

JESUS ONCE A CHILD.

And was my Saviour once a child,
A little child like me?

And was He humble, meek, and mild,
As little ones should be ?

Oh! why did not the Son of God
Come as an angel bright?

And why not leave His fair abode

To come with power and might?

Because He came not here to reign,
As sovereign here below;

He came to save our souls from sin,
Whence all our sorrows flow.

And did the Son of God most high
Consent a man to be?

And did that blessed Saviour die
Upon the cross for me?

And did my Saviour freely give
His life for sinful men?

What did he die that we might live?'
Oh, how he loved us then!

Accept, O ever blessed Lord!

An infant's humble praise;
Teach me to love Thy holy word,
And serve Thee all my days.

CHILDREN IN HEAVEN.-C. M. P.

Around the throne of God in heaven
Thousands of children stand;
Children whose sins are all forgiven,

A holy happy band.

Singing glory, glory, glory.

In flowing robes of spotless white,

See every one arrayed;

Dwelling in everlasting light,

And joys that never fade.

Singing, &c.

Once they were little ones like you,
And lived on earth below;

And could not praise, as now they do,
The Lord who loved them so.

Singing, &c.

What brought them to that world above

That heaven so bright and fair;

Where all is peace, and joy, and love—

How came those children there? Singing, &c.

Because the Saviour shed His blood,

To wash away their sin;

Bathed in that pure and precious flood,
Behold them white and clean.

Singing, &c.

On earth they sought the Saviour's grace,
On earth they loved His name;

So now they see His blessed face,

And stand before the Lamb.

Singing, &c.

ANNE HOULDITCH.

MY VOICE SHALT THOU HEAR IN THE

MORNING.-L. M.
Psalm 5. 3.

Awake, my soul, and with the sun,
Thy daily stage of duty run;
Shake off dull sloth and joyful rise,
To pay thy morning sacrifice.

Thy precious time misspent, redeem;
Each present day, thy last esteem;
Improve thy talent with due care;
For the great day thyself prepare.

In conversation be sincere ;

Keep conscience as the noontide clear.
Think how all-seeing God, thy ways,
Thy every secret thought, surveys,

Wake, and lift up thyself, my heart,
And with the angels bear thy part,
Who, all night long, unwearied sing
High praise to the Eternal King.

All praise to Thee who safe has kept,
And hast refreshed me while I slept.
Grant, Lord, when I from death shall wake,
I may of endless life partake.

Lord, I my vows to Thee renew,

Disperse my sins as morning dew;

Guard my first springs of thought and will, And with Thyself my spirit fill.

Direct, control, suggest, this day,
All I design, or do, or say;

That all my powers, with all their might,
In Thy sole glory may unite.

Praise God from whom all blessings flow; Praise Him, all creatures here below; Praise Him above, ye heavenly host;

Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost.

BE KIND.

Be kind to thy father, for when thou wert young,
Who loved thee more fondly than he?

He caught the first accents that fell from thy tongue,
And joined in thy innocent glee;

Be kind to thy father, for now he is old,
His locks intermingled with grey;
His footsteps are feeble, once fearless and bold,
Thy father is passing away.

Be kind to thy mother, for lo! on her brow
Many traces of sorrow are seen :

Oh! well may'st thou cherish and comfort her now,
For loving and kind hath she been;
Remember thy mother, for thee she will pray
As long as God giveth her breath;

With accents of kindness, then cheer her lone way,
E'en to the dark valley of death.

Be kind to thy brother, his heart will have dearth
If the smile of thy love be withdrawn,

The flowers of feeling will fade at their birth
If the dew of affection be gone;
Be kind to thy brother,-wherever we are,
The love of a brother shall be,

An ornament purer and richer by far

Than the pearls from the depths of the sea.

Be kind to thy sister, not many may know
The depth of true sisterly love!

The wealth of the ocean lies fathoms below
The surface that sparkles above: