PRAYERS.

1.

LORD! behold my sad condition!
At thy footstool prostrate laid,
Bow thine ear to my petition:
(Of my dreadful doom afraid.)
Pardon all my past offences,

I have err'd and gone astray.
Lord! restore me to my senses,

And conduct me in thy way.

2.

My Heav'nly Father and my Friend,

In tender mercy condescend,

And hear me while I pray;

To me incline thy gracious ear,

And from a sinner's humble pray'r,

Turn not thy face

away.

While I thy sacred Throne address,

With shame and sorrow I confess,

A wicked life I've led;

For oh! in thought and word and deed,

My sins in number far exceed

The hairs upon my head.

3.

FATHER of mercy, truth, and love,

Incline thy gracious ear,

From thy celestial throne above,

And hear my humble pray'r.

A wand'ring sheep stray'd from the fold, O'er barren wastes and dry,

Pining thro' hunger, thirst, and cold.

That wand'ring sheep, am I.

A slave to vanity and pride,

Bent by my stubborn will,

The latent good I cast aside,

And grasp the specious ill.

From thy just ways, tho' full in view, A heedless race I run,

Still eagerly the wrong pursue,

And leave the right undone.

Why have I thus ungrateful been,
To thy just judgments blind,

When thou to me hast always been
So merciful and kind?

How long shall I thus vainly spurn

Thy sacred laws away:

Nor once determine to return,

Thy precepts to obey?

Stretch out thine arm, my footsteps stay,

Unbend my stubborn will,

That I, in due obedience, may

Thy righteous law fulfil.

Reform my thoughts and let me find

Thy wonted clemency:

As thou art merciful and kind,

Be merciful to me.

Then shall my ev'ry study be,

My future life to improve:

And my glad song ascend to thee,
In gratitude and love.

ON THE DEATH OF A DAUGHTER.

Он, Mary Mary! quickly snatch'd away!

A flower wither'd in the bloom of May!
Still in my mem❜ry live, and share a part,
With deep impression, on my mournful heart.
Now when examining thy wardrobe o'er,
With swelling bosom while thereon I pore,
I paint thy form where ev'ry robe is laid;
And nature's tribute always shall be paid.
The little box that first to thee I gave,

I am determin❜d for thy sake to save.
This little box which gave thee such delight,—
E'en to embrace it, when thou lost thy sight,
If such a toy could thy affections bind,
And ev'n in death employ thy feeling mind,
Then well may I, while life and sense remain,
With pleasing sympathy, that toy retain.

O Mary all thy faults are buried quite :
All in the tempest vanish'd out of sight.
For gen'rous minds will own, without disguise,
'Twixt faults and crimes a great distinction lies.
But, tho' no gen'rous thoughts some minds employ,

(For what is never giv'n we can't enjoy.)

This one great truth let none on earth deny,
Some faults in ev'ry human creature lie.

The pensive bosom always finds employ;
Susceptible either of grief or joy.

But reason still should be our guiding star,
To call us back whene'er we go to far.

Heav'n must be right to call thee thus away,
Το pay that debt which I have still to pay :
And when that day shall come, Heav'n grant, that I
May be so willing as thou wast to die!

EPITAPHS.

1.

THO' no proud sculpture decorates my tomb, My humble boon, ye great! do not deny. 'Tis only this-that you afford me room

Here on my mother's lap in peace to lie. Alike she gave us birth: which made me claim A free admittance to this humble bed.

Life's scenes are past and vanish'd like a dream.My work is finish'd and my debt is paid.