Consider, O my soul, what morn is this!
Whereon the eternal Lord of all things made,
For us, poor mortals, and our endless bliss,
Came down from heaven; and, in a manger laid,
The first, rich, offerings of our ransom paid:
Consider, O my soul, what morn is this!

Consider what estate of fearful woe
Had then been ours, had He refused this birth;
From sin to sin tossed vainly to and fro,
Hell's playthings, o'er a doomed and helpless earth!
Had He from us withheld His priceless worth,
Consider man's estate of fearful woe!

“Conquer the gloomy night of thy sorrow, for the morning greets thee with laughter.
Rise and clothe thyself with noble pride,
Break loose from the tyranny of grief.
Thou standest alone among men,
Thy song is like a pearl in beauty.”

So spake my friend. 'T is well!
The billows of the stormy sea which overwhelmed my soul,—
These I subdue; I quake not
Before the bow and arrow of destiny.
I endured with patience when he deceitfully lied to me
With his treacherous smile.

Yea, boldly I defy Fate,
I cringe not to envious Fortune.

Confide ye aye in Providence,
— For Providence is kind:
An' bear ye a' life's changes
— Wi' a calm an' tranquil mind.
Though pressed and hemmed on every side,
— Ha'e faith, an' ye'll win through;
— — For ilka blade o' grass
— — — Keps its ain drap o' dew.

Gin reft frae friends, or crossed in love,
— As whiles nae doubt ye've been,
Grief lies deep-hidden in your heart,
— Or tears flow frae your e'ndash,
Believe it for the best, and trow
— There's good in store for you;
— — For ilka blade o' grass

There is a love that tumbles like a stream,
Frothing and foaming down a budded way;
There is a love like ocean depths that move
Hidden, eternal — winter as in May.

There is a love that stumbles through its lines
Trying to say what love can never say;
There is another — patient, tender, strong
Serving and blessing till the close of day.

1. Confess we all, before the Lord, His grace and mercy then.
2. In presence of his holy ones. Praise him with joy and fear.
And shew his acts with one accord. Before the sons of men
Who doth revive our withered bones. And light from darkness rear

3. Man, woman, child, both old and young.
Rich, poor, the low and high,
Laud and extol with heart and tongue,
The highest Majesty.

4. Let all that lives confess his grace,
That saves their life and fame.
Let none by wicked life deface,
The glory of his name.

1

Confess Jehovah thankfully.
For He is good; for, His mercy
Continueth forever.
To God of Gods confesse doe ye:
Because, His bountiful mercie
Continueth forever.
Unto the Lord of Lords confess
Because His merciful kindness
Continueth forever.
To him that doth, himself onely
Things wondrous great: for, His mercy
Continueth forever.

2

To Him that spread the earth more high
Than waters are: for His mercy
Continueth forever.
To Him that made great lights to bee:
Because His bountiful-mercie
Continueth forever.

The conference-meeting through at last,
— We boys around the vestry waited
To see the girls come tripping past,
— Like snow-birds willing to be mated.

Not braver he that leaps the wall
— By level musket-flashes bitten,
Than I, that stepped before them all
— Who longed to see me get the mitten.

But no! she blushed and took my arm:
— We let the old folks have the highway,
And started toward the Maple Farm
— Along a kind of lovers' by-way.

I can't remember what we said, —
— 'Twas nothing worth a song or story;

Concentred here th' united wisdom shines,
Of learn'd judges, and of sound divines:
Patriots, whose virtues searching time has tried,
Heroes, who fought, where brother heroes died;
Lawyers, who speak, as Tully spoke before,
Sages, deep read in philosophic lore;
Merchants, whose plans are to no realms confin'd,
Farmers — the noblest title 'mongst mankind:
Yeomen and tradesmen, pillars of the state;
On whose decision hangs Columbia's fate.

Conceit begotten by the eyes
Is quickly born, and quickly dies,
For while it seeks our hearts to have,
Meanwhile there reason makes his grave;
For many things the eyes approve,
Which yet the heart doth seldom love.

For as the seeds in springtime sown
Die in the ground ere they be grown,
Such is conceit, whose rooting fails,
As child that in the cradle quails,
Or else within the mother's womb
Hath his beginning, and his tomb.

Affection follows Fortune's wheels,
And soon is shaken from her heels;

AFTER AN INTERVAL OF ABSENCE .

Concealed within the shady wood
A mother left her sleeping child,
And flew, to cull her rustic food,
The fruitage of the forest wild.

But storms upon her pathway rise,
The mother roams, astray and weeping;
Far from the weak appealing cries
Of him she left so sweetly sleeping.

She hopes, she fears; a light is seen,