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Learn of me, thus cries the Saviour,

If my kingdom you'd inherit; Sinner, quit your proud behaviour,

Learn my meek and lowly spirit. Come, ye servants, see your station,

Freed from all reproach and shame ; He who purchas'd your salvation,

Bore a servant's humble name.

Come, ye poor, some comfort gather

Faint not in the race you run;
Hard the lot your gracious Father

Gave his dear, his only Son.
Think, that if your humbler stations,

Less of worldly good bestow,
You escape those strong temptations

Which from wealth and grandeur flow. See your

Saviour is ascended !
See He looks with pity down!
Trust Him, all will soon be mended,

Bear His cross, you'll share His crown.

MORNING SOLILOQUY.

The following lines were written by Hannah More for her own

use, in early life, but a copy having been given to a friend, the author was importuned to print it. She complied, and prefixed to the piece the following

“As early rising is very conducive to health, and to the improvement of the mind in knowledge and piety, this Soliloquy is designed to promote so important an end; and is recommended more particularly to young persons, as, by contracting a habit of rising early in the days of their youth, they would be less liable to depart from such a custom as they advance in life. The last stanza is expressive of the action of rising, in order that those who repeat it may have no excuse for not quitting their beds immediately. Sort slumbers now mine

eyes

forsake
My powers are all renew'd ;
May my freed spirit too awake,

With heavenly strength endued !
Thou silent murderer Sloth, no more

My mind imprison'd keep;
Nor let me waste another hour

With thee, thou felon SLEEP.
Hark, O my soul, could dying men

One lavish'd hour retrieve,
Though spent in tears, and pass'd in pain,

What treasures would they give !

But seas of pearl, and mines of gold,

Were offer'd them in vain ; Their pearl of countless price is lost,*

And where's the promis'd gain? Lord, when thy day of dread account

For squander'd hours shall come, Oh let them not increase th' amount,

And swell the former sum !

Teach me in health each good to prize,

I, dying, shall esteem;
And every pleasure to despise

I then shall worthless deem.

For all thy wondrous mercies past

My grateful voice I raise, While thus I quit the bed of rest

Creation's Lord to praise.

See Matthew xiii. 46.

A HYMN OF PRAISE,

FOR THE

A BUNDANT HARVEST OF 1796.

ANT

AFTER A YEAR OF SCARCITY.

GREAT God! when famine threaten'd late

To scourge our guilty land,
O did we learn from that dark fate

To dread thy mighty hand ?
Did then our sins to memory rise ?

Or own'd we God was just ?
Or rais'd we penitential cries?

Or bow'd we in the dust?

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'Tis true, we fail'd not to repine,

But did we too repent ?
Or own the chastisement divine,

In awful judgment sent?
Though the bright chain of peace be broke,

And war, with ruthless sword, Unpeoples nations at a stroke,

Yet who regards the Lord ?

But God, who in his strict decrees,

Remembers mercy still,
Can, in a moment, if he please,

Our hearts with comfort fill.
He mark'd our angry spirits rise,

Domestic hate increase ;
And for a time withheld supplies,

To teach us love and peace.
He, when he brings his children low,

Has blessings still in store ;
And when he strikes the heaviest blow,

He loves us but the more.
Now frost, and flood, and blight* no more,

Our golden harvests spoil ;
See what an unexampled store

Rewards the reaper's toil !
As when the promis'd harvest fail'd,

In Canaan's fruitful land;
The envious patriarchs were assail'd

By famine's pressing hand !
The angry brothers then forgot

Each fierce and jarring feud ;
United by their adverse lot,

They lov'd as brothers should.
So here, from Heaven's correcting hand,

Though famine fail'd to move;
Let plenty now throughout the land,
Rekindle peace

and love.
Like the rich fool, let us not say,

Soul! thou hast goods in store !
But shake the overplus away,

To feed the hungry poor. These three visitations followed each other in quick sucsession.

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