Devotions in the ancient way of offices with psalms, hymns, and prayers for every day in the week and every holiday in the year.

Hymn XX.

COme my thoughts, who fondly fly At every toy that passes by; Spending so your strength in vain, While what you court, you ne're can gain.

Come, my soul, who sure must be Quite tir'd with all this life can see; Losing oft thy hope and time: Come take advice of this plain rime.

Seek no more abroad thy rest; But seek at home, in thine own brest: Let thy mind from guilt be clear; Then look for all thy comfort there.

With thy Self, and with thy God, Delight to make thy chief abode:

There repose secure and free; And no mischance can trouble thee.

Should death's self thy walls assail, Still thou art safe and canst not fail: Still thy soul's thine own, and she To a new house remov'd shall be.

New and lasting there above, All built and furnish't with pure love: There shall this mud wall of thine, Repair'd, the brightest stars outshine.

There thy Lord, who feeds thee now VVith his own flesh, will more bestow; He came down, to be like thee; Thou shalt go up, and like Him be.

King of glory! King of peace! May these our praises never cease: Still may we adore thy Throne, Still bow and sing to Thee alone.