He, tho' tempests round Him roll,
Feels a sacred calm of soul;
Breathing, to his latest breath,
Joy in life, and hope in death.


_Hymn._

Since the Evening of Life will soon close,
While I live, may I justly incline
To diffuse peace of heart among those,
Whose lives may be guided by mine!

To Christ may I lead them to own
The charms of his tender controul,
And with gratitude gaze on His throne.
Whom to serve is the joy of the soul!


_Hymn to the Creator._

Source of all kind, all potent thought!
Thou God of Goodness, and of Power!
In Thee my soul, by trouble taught,
Shall trust, as in protection's tower.

The surest friend, the safest guard,
In thy sweet mercy may I see!
And solitude itself regard,