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6 Ever the richest, tenderest glow
Sets round the Autumnal Sun-
But there sight fails: no heart may know
The bliss when life is done.

7 Such is Thy banquet, dearest Lord;
Oh give us grace to cast

Our lot with Thine, to trust Thy word,
And keep our best till last!

555. C. M.

1 When in the vale of lengthened years
My feeble feet shall tread,
And I survey the various scenes
Through which I have been led:

2 How many mercies will my life
Before my view unfold!

What countless dangers will be past,
What tales of sorrow told !

3 But O, my soul! if thou canst say,
I've seen my God in all;

In every trouble owned His hand,
In every gift His call:

4 If piety has marked my steps,
And love my actions formed,
And purity possessed my heart,
And truth my lips adorned:

5 If I an aged servant am
Of Jesus and of God,

I need not fear the closing scene,
Nor dread the appointed road.

6 This scene will all my labours end,
This road conduct on high:
With comfort I'll review the past,
And triumph, though I die.

556. L. M.

1 Work, work to-day! the night comes fast,
Soon will the fleeting hours be past;
Work, work to-day! for never more
Will Time its precious gifts restore.

2 Work, work! each moment as it flies
Holds out a glory for the skies;
Work, work! each moment slighted now
Plucks a rich jewel from thy brow.

557. P. M.

1 One by one the sands are flowing,
One by one the moments fall;
Some are coming, some are going;
Do not strive to grasp them all.

2 One by one thy Duties wait thee,
Let thy whole strength go to each;
Let no future dreams elate thee,

Learn thou first what these can teach.

3 One by one, bright gifts from Heaven,
Joys are sent thee here below;
Take them readily when given,
Ready, too, to let them go.

4 One by one thy griefs shall meet thee, Do not fear an armèd band;

One will fade as others greet thee, Shadows passing through the land. 5 Do not look at life's long sorrow;

See how small each moment's pain;
God will help thee for to-morrow,
So each day begin again.

6 Every hour that fleets so slowly
Has its task to do or bear;
Luminous the crown, and holy,
If thou set each gem with care.

558. 7s M.

1 Whatsoever be the seed,

Thought or feeling, word or deed,
Buried howsoever deep,

What we sow that shall we reap.

2 Every day and every hour,

'Mid the sunshine, 'mid the shower, We are planting what must grow, Yield it joy, or yield it woe.

3 In the past, full many a root
Have we laid for bitter fruit,
Sad regrets, and thoughts of gloom,
Ripening for the day of doom.

4 In the future may we sow
Only what to joy will grow,
Seeds of Truth and Holiness,
Evermore our souls to bless!

559. C. M.

1 Though lowly here our lot may be,
High work have we to do,
In faith and trust to follow him
Whose lot was lowly too.

2 Our days of darkness we may bear,
Strong in a Father's love,
Leaning on His almighty arm,
And fixed our hopes above.

3 Our lives, enriched with gentle thoughts And loving deeds, may be

A stream that still the nobler grows
The nearer to the sea.

4 To Jesus true, to Conscience true,
However tried and prest,

In God's clear sight high work we do,
If we but do our best.

5 Thus may we make the lowliest lot
With rays of glory bright;

Thus may we turn a crown of thorns
Into a crown of light.

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1 Calmly, calmly lay him down!
He hath fought a noble fight;
He hath battled for the right;
He hath won the fadeless crown!

2 Memories, all too bright for tears,
Crowd around us from the past;
He was faithful to the last,
Faithful through long toilsome

years.

3 All that makes for human good,
Freedom, righteousness, and truth,-
These, the objects of his youth,
Unto age he still pursued.

4 Meek and gentle was his soul,
Yet it had a glorious might;
Clouded minds it filled with light,
Wounded spirits it made whole.

5 Huts where poor men sat distressed,
Homes where death had darkly passed,
Beds where suffering breathed its last,
These he sought, and soothed, and blessed.

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