SUMMER EVENING.

1 HOW fine has the day been! How bright wae
the sun!

How lovely and joyful the course that he run!

Though he rose in a mist when his race he begun,
And there follow’d some droppings of rain :

But now the fair traveller comes to the west,

His rays are all gold and his beauties are best ;

He paints the sky gay as he sinks to his rest,
And foretells a bright rising again.

2 Just such is the Christian: his course he begins
Like the sun ina mist, while he mourns for his sins,
And melts into tears; then he breaks out and

shincs,
And travels his heavenly way :
But when he comes nearer to finish his race,
Like a fine setting sun, he looks richer in grace,
And gives a sure hope at the end of his days -
Of rising in brighter array.