Evening Song of the Weary. Save us from the great and wise, Never let the world break in, Far above all earthly things, 209 Evening Song of the Weary. CXIV. FELICIA HEMANS. FATHER of heaven and earth! The soft still night! The holy pause of care and mirth, Of sound and light! 210 Hymn for the Monthly Concert. Now far in the glade and dell, Flower cup, and bud and bell, Have shut around the sleeping woodlark's nestThe bee's long murmuring toils are done, And I, the o'erwearied one, O'erwearied and o'erwrought, Bless the, O God, O Father of the oppressed, Yes, ere I sink to rest, By the fire's dying light, Thou Lord of earth and heaven! I bless thee, who hast given Hymn for the Monthly Concert. OXV. BRETHREN, while we sojourn here, One who loves us to the end; Hymn for the Monthly Concert. 211 Forward then, with courage go, Long we shall not dwell below; Soon the joyful word will come, Child, your Father calls-come home. In the world a thousand snares But of all the foes we meet, To betray us into sin, As the foes we have within; Yet let nothing spoil your peace, Christ will also conquer these ; Then the joyful word will come, Child, your Father calls-come home. Hymn for the Monthly Concert. CXVI. CAROLINE W. SEWALL. Lord, when thine ancient people cried, And forth thy fainting Israel bring. Lo, in these latter days our land, Groans with the anguish of the slave; Lord God of hosts! stretch forth thy hand,Not shortened that it cannot save. The Truly Forlorn. CAROLINE W. SEWALL. Grievously the captive sighs, Hopelessly the future views. Who his abject lot shall bless? Who shall soothe his soul's distress? Bring his happy children near; They his burdened heart will cheer. Hymn for the Monthly Concert. Roll back the swelling tide of sin, The lust of gain-the lust of power: The day of Freedom usher in : How long delays the appointed hour! How long, oh Lord, how long !—we wake, Free young spirits God hath made Ah! the light hath left their brow, She who shared his leafy cot, (Life was new, and griefs were not,) She will come; affection's smile And the chain is round her cast! Look to Christ! mid'st wrongs and grief; Sufferer, he will give relief. Mountains fall and hide our shame! He hath not even heard his name! Thou, just God, art over all,— 213 |