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HYMN 93. C.M.
A morning hymn. (cont.)

4	On a poor worm thy pow'r might tread,    And I could ne'er withstand; Thy justice might have crush'd me dead,    But mercy held thine hand.
5	A thousand wretched souls are fled    Since the last setting sun, And yet thou length'nest out my thread,    And yet my moments run.
6	Great God, let all my hours be thine,    Whilst I enjoy the light; Then shall my sun in smiles decline,    And bring a pleasant night.

HYMN 94. L.M.
An evening hymn.

1	GREAT God, to thee my ev'ning song With humble gratitude I raise; O let thy mercy tunc my tongue, And fill my heart with lively praise!
2	My days unclouded as they pass, And ev'ry gentle rolling hour, Are monuments of wondrous grace, And witness to thy love and pow'r.
3	And yet this thoughtless, wretched heart, Too oft regardless of thy love, Ungrateful can from thee depart, And, fond of trifles, vainly rove.
4	Seal my forgiveness in the blood Of Jesus: his dear name alone I plead for pardon, gracious God, And kind acceptance at thy throne.
5	Let this blest hope mine eyelids close, With sleep refresh my feeble frame; Safe in thy care may I repose, And wake with praises to thy name.

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HYMN 95. C.M.
An evening song.

1	NOW from the altar of our hearts    Let flames of love arise; Assist us, Lord, to offer up    Our ev'ning sacrifice.
2	Minutes and mercies multiplied,    Have made up all this day; Minutes came quick, but mercies were    More swift and free than they.
3	New time, new favour, and new joys,    Do a new song require: Till we shall praise thee, as we would,    Accept our hearts' desire.
4	Lord of our days, whose hand hath set    New time upon our score; Thee may we praise for all our time,    When time shall be no more.

HYMN 96. C.M.
For Morning and Evening.

1	HOSANNA, with a cheerful sound,    To God's upholding hand! Ten thousand snares attend us round,    And yet secure we stand.
2	That was a most amazing pow'r,    That rais'd us with a word, And ev'ry day, and ev'ry hour,    We lean upon the Lord.
3	The ev'ning rests our weary head,    And angels guard the room; We wake, and we admire the bed,    That was not made our tomb.
4	The rising morning can't assure    That we shall end the day;