Thou canst, when anguish rends the heart,

The secret woe control;

The inward malady canst heal—

The sickness of the soul.

Thou canst repress the rising sigh,
Canst soothe each mortal care;
And every deep and heartfelt groan
Is wafted to thine ear.

Thy gracious eye is watchful still,
Thy potent arm can save
From threatening danger and disease,

And the devouring grave.

Eternal source of life and health,

And every bliss we feel!

In sorrow and in joy, to thee
Our grateful hearts appeal.

HYMN XXV.

The Peaceful Death of the Just Man.

BEHOLD the western evening light,
It melts in deep'ning gloom :
So calm the righteous sink away,
Descending to the tomb.

PEABODY.

The winds breathe low;-the withering leaf

Scarce whispers from the tree;

So gently flows the parting breath

When good men cease to be.

How beautiful on all the hills

The crimson light is shed!

'Tis like the peace the just man gives To mourners round his bed.

How mildly on the wandering cloud
The sunset beam is cast!

'Tis like the memory left behind,
When loved ones breathe their last.

HYMN XXVI.

Rest of the Righteous.

OH, sweet and sacred is the rest
Round the departed just man's breast;
Serene the pillow of his head,

And sanctified his funeral bed.

BOWRING.

Upon his grave the moonlight beam
Shines smiling-and the dews on him
Fall soft as on the loveliest flower
That decks the field or crowns the bower.

And if the sad and sorrowing tear
Be sometimes shed in silence there;
Religion's ray that tear shall light,
And make it as a dew-drop bright.
Then on the earth's maternal breast,
In peaceful hope and joy we'll rest;
And yield us to death's slumber deep,
As infants calmly sink to sleep.

HYMN XXVII.

Steadfastness in Virtue.

AMIDST a world of hopes and fears,
A wild of cares, and toils, and tears,
Where foes alarm, and dangers threat,
And pleasures kill, and glories cheat:

H. MOORE.

Shed down, O Lord, a heavenly ray,
To guide me in the doubtful way;
And o'er me hold thy shield of power,
To guard me in the dangerous hour.

Teach me the flattering paths to shun,
In which the thoughtless many run;
Who for a shade the substance miss,
And grasp their ruin in their bliss.

May never pleasure, wealth, or pride,
Allure my wandering soul aside;
But through the scenes of mortal ill,
Safe lead me to thy heavenly hill.

HYMN XXVIII.

BOWRING.

The Righteous shall be in everlasting Remembrance.

EARTH's transitory things decay,

Its pomps, its pleasures pass away;
But the sweet memory of the good
Survives in the vicissitude.

As 'midst the ever-rolling sea,
The eternal isles established be,
'Gainst which the surges of the main

Fret, dash, and break themselves in vain :

As in the heavens, the urns divine,
Of golden light, for ever shine;

Though clouds may darken, storms may rage,
They still shine on from age to age :-

So through the ocean-tide of years,
The memory of the just appears;
So through the tempest and the gloom,
The good man's virtues light the tomb.

Happy the righteous! come what may,
Though heaven dissolve and earth decay;
Happy the righteous man! for he

Belongs to immortality.

Safety of the Virtuous.

He who walks in virtue's way,
Firm and fearless, walketh surely;
Diligent while yet 'tis day,

On he speeds, and speeds securely :
Flowers of peace beneath him grow,
Suns of pleasure brighten o'er him;
Memory's joys behind him go,

Hope's sweet angels fly before him.

Thus he moves from stage to stage,
Smiles of earth and heaven attending;

Softly sinking down in age,

And at last to death descending:

Cradled in its quiet deep,

Calm as summer's loveliest even,

He shall sleep the hallowed sleep-
Sleep that is o'erwatched by Heaven.

HYMN XXX.

Pleasure of Benevolence.

Oн, sweeter than the fragrant flower

At evening's dewy close,

The will united with the power,

To succour human woes !

DRENNAN.

And softer than the softest strain

Of music to the ear,

The placid joy we give and gain,
By gratitude sincere.

'Tis he who scatters blessings round,

Adores his Maker best;

His walk through life is mercy-crowned,

His bed of death is blest.

HYMN XXXI. ALEXANDER POPE.

Universal Prayer.

FATHER of all! in ev'ry age,

In ev'ry clime ador'd,
By saint, by savage, and by sage,
Jehovah, Jove, or Lord!

Thou Great First Cause, least understood,

Who all my sense confin'd,

To know but this, that thou art good,
And that myself am blind;

Yet gave me, in this dark estate
To see the good from ill;
And binding nature fast in fate,
Left free the human will;

What conscience dictates to be done,
Or warns me not to do,

This teach me more than hell to shun,
That more than heav'n pursue.

What blessings thy free bounty gives,
Let me not cast away;

For God is paid when man receives,
T' enjoy is to obey.