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When sickness smote our feeble frames,
Did'st take away our pain,
And even when others sought the grave,
Restor'd our health again,—
And bade the lamp of knowledge shine
With radiance full and free,
And sent thy holy Book to shew
The path that leads to Thee,—
Oh! give us good and grateful hearts
Thy mercy to adore,
And take our spirits, when we die,
Where they can praise thee more.
New Year's Address.
My children, 'tis the New Year's morn,
And many a wish for you is born,
