"When nature sinks and spirits droop, Thy promises of grace Are pillars to sustain my hope, The following is inserted at length, as one regarded by her with peculiar interest : "Our sins alas! how strong they be, And like a violent sea, They break our duty, Lord, to thee, The waves of trouble, how they rise! There to fulfil his sweet commands, There shall we sit and sing, and tell, Till heavenly raptures fire our hearts, For ever his dear sacred name Shall dwell upon our tongue, And Jesus and salvation be The close of every tongue!" Leighton on St. Peter, was with her a favourite work; from which, and several other esteemed devotional volumes, including the present Bishop of Winchester's "Ministerial Character of Christ," many copious extracts were transferred into her common place-book. But the word of God was especially her delight; the promises of which she pleaded with humble confidence. "Be merciful unto me according to thy word." "I will run the way of thy commandments when thou shalt enlarge my heart." Let thy mercies come also unto me, O Lord, even thy salvation, according to thy word. "Remember the word unto thy servant, upon which thou hast caused me to hope. This is my comfort in my affliction for thy word hath quickened me." Thy word is a lamp unto my feet, and a light unto my path." "I am thine, save me; for I have sought thy precepts."—Verily, the Lord heard her supplications, He is the God of our salvation. 66 1 She is departed to her heavenly inheritance through the infinite goodness and mercy of God in Christ Jesus. Let us not boast ourselves of to-morrow, but hearken diligently to the solemn admonition of God's word and providence. "Take ye heed, watch and pray; for ye know not when the time is." "Watch ye therefore: for ye know not when the master of the house cometh, at even, or at midnight, or at the cock crowing, or in the morning lest coming suddenly he find you sleeping. "And what I say WATCH!" unto you, I say unto all, "From Britain's green and flowery isles, The sun beheld it in the shade, The cup of white, the leaf of green, Death, wafted on the eastern blast, But though, to every passer by,. For there came one, who lov'd the flower, And took it home to deck his bower, To blossom in his Paradise." DR. W. B. COLLYER. Dennett, Printer, Leather Lane, London. |