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May we escape the dangerous ground; And while thy strength we feel,

Help us to keep each timber sound,

With grace, our chosen keel.

And O when near temptation's shoal,

No beacon shining far,

Cheer thou the Seaman's 'nighted soul

With Bethlehem's holy Star.

Jesus, our helm, we look to thee,
Nor shall we look in vain;

From quicksands thou wilt keep us free,

And guide us o'er the main.

And soon,-life's chequered voyage o'er, When we have crossed the sea,—

Grant that thy crew may tread the shore Of blessed eternity,

TO THE NEW-YEAR.

THOU new-born year, thou span yet undefined,
Portion of time, anticipate, I greet

Thy opening dawn with salutation kind,

And would, reluctant, fleeting guest, entreat,
With us sojourning, yet a longer stay;
Or wilt thou, like thy parent, haste away?

Thou new-born year, why should the joyous smile
Of reckless riot, usher in thy name?

Ah, why should dissipation e'er beguile

The sons of men, when Reason would proclaim "Life is a vapour, mark, it quick recedes, Eternity is near, with all its deeds?"

What art thou, gliding portent, but the note

That speak'st, though dumb, existence' passing knell? Thy warning strains, though they unheeded, float Along our passage, to the traveller tell, "Depart, poor pilgrim, leave this vale, unblest, Arise, ye giddy, this is not your rest.”

Vision of future days, fair blooming year,
Thou evanescent! soon, alas, thy flight
Shall be the theme; for thou wilt disappear,
Thou, too, wilt slumber in the iron night
Of by-past ages; on the hoary scroll
Be chronicled, whose page none may unroll.

Child of the past,-herald of years to come,
I greet thy entrance, for thou tellest me
With accent kind, that soon my reckoned sum
Of months will be fulfilled, and I shall be
No more a wanderer in a sunless way,

Where disappointment droops beneath the world's cold

ray.

O THOU THAT PLEAD’ST.

O THOU that plead'st with pitying love,
How large that love, and free;

When sad and wounded here, we prove
A rest alone in thee.

Poor wanderers, tired and 'reft of all,
To sin and bondage sold,

We strive, till freed from Satan's thrall,

We're brought to Jesus' fold.

With fervour at the sinner's heart,

Thou plead'st to enter in,

And there the kindly balm impart,

That heals the wounds of sin.

"Open my sister to thy spouse,

My love is ever true;

My head with nightly dropping flows,

My locks are filled with dew."

Who shall not, Lord, with love adore, When thus JEHOVAH pleads?

What bosom close the stubborn door,

When Jesus intercedes?

Enter this heart, my Saviour, God,

Subdue this flinty breast;

Shed thy renewing grace abroad,

And be my constant guest,

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