Page:Moral Pieces in Prose and Verse.pdf/142

  And on the sea of life thy bark is tost; Fear not the billows hoarse, or tempest dark, For thy Redeemer guides the cleaving bark.

 

THE morning clouds afar are roll'd,  The birds awake my rest, And see a ray of liquid gold Comes darting from the east.

What shall I render to the friend, From whom my blessings flow? What shall I say to thee, my God, Whose hand supports me so?

Oh, raise my earth-born soul above, Bid all my pow'rs adore, Nought can I render for thy love, But this request for more.