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النشر الإلكتروني
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From naked groves nae birdie sings; To shepherd's pipe nae hillock rings; The breeze nae od'rous flavour brings From Borean cave;

And dwyning Nature droops her wings,
Wi' visage grave.

Mankind but scanty pleasure glean
Frae snawy hill or barren plain,
Whan Winter, 'midst his nipping train,
Wi' frozen spear,

Sends drift owr a' his bleak domain,
And guides the weir.

Auld Reikie! thou 'rt the canty hole,
A bield for mony a caldrife soul,
Wha snugly at thine ingle loll,

Baith warm and couth,
While round they gar the bicker roll
To weet their mouth.

When merry Yule Day comes, I trow,
You'll scantlins find a hungry mou;
Sma' are our cares, our stamacks fou

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A CRADLE HYMN

HUSH! my dear, lie still and slumber,
Holy angels guard thy bed!
Heavenly blessings without number
Gently falling on thy head.

Sleep, my babe; thy food and raiment,
House and home, thy friends provide;
All without thy care or payment:
All thy wants are well supplied.

How much better thou'rt attended
Than the Son of God could be,
When from Heaven He descended
And became a child like thee!

Soft and easy is thy cradle:
Coarse and hard thy Saviour lay,
When His birthplace was a stable
And His softest bed was hay.

Blessed babe! what glorious features
Spotless fair, divinely bright!
Must He dwell with brutal creatures?
How could angels bear the sight?

Was there nothing but a manger
Cursed sinners could afford

To receive the heavenly stranger?
Did they thus affront their Lord?

Soft, my child: I did not chide thee, Though my song might sound too hard; 'Tis thy mother sits beside thee,

And her arms shall be thy guard.

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IN TIME OF PRAYER
AND TEMPTATION

JESUS, lover of my soul,
Let me to Thy bosom fly,
While the nearer waters roll,
While the tempest still is high!
Hide me, O my Saviour, hide,
Till the storm of life be past,
Safe into the haven guide;
O receive my soul at last!

Other refuge have I none;
Hangs my helpless soul on Thee;
Leave, ah! leave me not alone,
Still support and comfort me!
All my trust on Thee is stayed,
All my help from Thee I bring;
Cover my defenceless head
With the shadow of Thy wing!

Wilt Thou not regard my call?
Wilt Thou not accept my prayer?
Lo! I sink, I faint, I fall
Lo! on Thee I cast my care!

To serve the present age,

My calling to fulfill;

To do my Master's will!

O may it all my powers engage,

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1762

Augustus M. Toplady (1740–1778)

ROCK OF AGES

Rock of Ages, cleft for me,

Let me hide myself in Thee;

Let the water and the blood,

From Thy wounded side which flowed, Be of sin the double cure,

Save from wrath and make me pure.

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