HYMN.

    But yield yourselves unto God as those that are alive from the dead;
    and your members as instruments of righteousness unto God.

    —­Romans 6:13.

My heart, the world forsake,
  And every earthly toy;
The Lord of all thy portion make,
  And in Him all enjoy.

May sensible delight,
  Corrected and refined,
A thirst of nobler joys excite,
  And urge the lingering mind.

Should ardent love impel
  And actuate my soul,
Still may celestial fires prevail,
  And every thought control.

Should glory stimulate,
  And daring deeds propose,
That only fame I’d emulate,
  To triumph in the cross.

Or should my yielding powers
  Acknowledge pleasure’s sway,
I’d think of sacred streams and bowers,
  And sweets that ne’er decay.

Should soaring science me
  Her votary avow,
My only excellence should be
  Christ crucified to know.

Should wealth my mind impress,
  With the desire of more,
In Christ the fullness I possess,
  Of Heaven’s exhaustless store.

With all that nature craves,
  Fully from thence supplied,
No aching want my bosom heaves
  No wish unsatisfied.

REJOICING IN HOPE.

Tost on the troubled sea of life,
  On every side assailed,
Involved in passion’s stormy strife,
  In irksome suff’rance held.

The faithful word of promise cheers
  And bears my spirits up,
Dispels my dark desponding fears
  And stablishes my hope.

Hope that shall every toil survive,
  That smoothes the rugged path,
That mitigates the ills of life,
  And soothes the hour of death.

And when the storms of life are o’er,
  And all our conflicts cease,
When landed on the heavenly shore
  To enjoy eternal peace.

Hope at the last, her charge resigned,
  Securely we dismiss,
And an abundant entrance find,
  To the abodes of bliss.

Till then our progress she attends
  To solace and relieve: 
And waits till every conflict ends
  To take her final leave.

Possessed of all we hoped below,
  Our utmost wish attained,
Our happiness complete, we know
  Our full perfection gained.

Thus may I cheerfully endure,
  Till thus my warfare past;—­
Suffice for me the promise sure,
  I shall be crowned at last.

HYMN.

    There remaineth therefore a rest to the people of God.

    —­Hebrews 4:9.

Oh how I languish to possess,
  A safe and permanent abode! 
To rest in unmolested peace,
  And cast my care on thee, my God.

In thee I joy, in thee I rest,
  Though all inferior comforts fail;
No hopeless anguish heaves my breast,
  And no tormenting fears assail.