DEVOUT ASPIRATIONS.

Lord God of gods, before whose throne Stand storms and fire, O what shall we Return to heaven, that is our own,

When all the world belongs to thee? We have no offering to impart, But praises of a wounded heart.

O thou that sitt'st in heaven, and seest My deeds without, my thoughts within, Be thou my prince, be thou my priest­Command my soul, and cure my sin: How bitter my afflictions be I care not, so I rise to thee.

What I possess, or what I crave, Brings no content, great God, to me, If what I would, or what I have

Be not possest, and blest in thee: What I enjoy, O make it mine, In making me that have it- thine.

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When winter- fortunes cloud the brows Of summer- friends, when eyes grow

strange ,­

When plighted faith forgets its vows,

When earth and all things in it change ,­O Lord, thy mercies fail me never ,­Where thou lov'st, thou lov'st for ever. 3