419

WITH

7ITH the sweet word of peace
We bid our brethren go;
Peace as a river to increase,
And ceaseless flow.

2 With the calm word of prayer
We earnestly commend

Our brethren to thy watchful care,
Eternal Friend!

3 With the dear word of love
We give our brief farewell;
Our love below, and thine above,
With them shall dwell.

4 With the strong word of faith We stay ourselves on thee,

6.6.8.4

That thou, O Lord, in life and death,
Their help shalt be;

5 Then the bright word of hope
Shall on our parting gleam,
And tell of joys beyond the scope
Of earth-born dream.

6 Farewell! in hope and love,

In faith, and peace, and prayer; Till he whose home is ours above, Unite us there. Amen.

George Watson, 1867

Also the following

32 From every stormy wind that blows

244 Lead, kindly Light

248 Lead us, O Father, in the paths of peace 536 O happy band of pilgrims

IV. SPECIAL OCCASIONS

420

PRAIS

Thanksgiving-day

Six 7'8

RAISE to God, immortal praise, For the love that crowns our days; Bounteous source of every joy, Let thy praise our tongues employ: All to thee, our God, we owe, Source whence all our blessings flow.

2 All the plenty summer pours;
Autumn's rich o'erflowing stores;
Flocks that whiten all the plain;
Yellow sheaves of ripened grain:
Lord, for these our souls shall raise
Grateful vows and solemn praise.

3 Peace, prosperity, and health,
Private bliss, and public wealth,
Knowledge with its gladdening streams,
Pure religion's holier beams:
Lord, for these our souls shall raise
Grateful vows and solemn praise.

4 As thy prospering hand hath blest.
May we give thee of our best;
And by deeds of kindly love
For thy mercies grateful prove;
Singing thus through all our days,
Praise to God, immortal praise. Amen.

Anna Laetitia Barbauld. 1776

421

Co

Eight 7's

OME, ye thankful people, come,
Raise the song of harvest-home:
All is safely gathered in,

Ere the winter storms begin;
God, our Maker, doth provide
For our wants to be supplied;
Come to God's own temple, come,
Raise the song of harvest-home.

2 All the world is God's own field,
Fruit unto his praise to yield;
Wheat and tares together sown,
Unto joy or sorrow grown:
First the blade, and then the ear,
Then the full corn shall appear:
Grant, O harvest Lord, that we
Wholesome grain and pure may be.

3 For the Lord our God shall come,
And shall take his harvest home;
From his field shall in that day
All offenses purge away;
Give his angels charge at last
In the fire the tares to cast,
But the fruitful ears to store
In his garner evermore.

4 Even so, Lord, quickly come
To thy final harvest-home;
Gather thou thy people in,
Free from sorrow, free from sin;
There, for ever purified,

In thy presence to abide:

Come, with all thine angels, come,

Raise the glorious harvest-home. Amen.

Henry Alford, 1844; revised, 1867

422

No

6.7.6.7.6.6.6.6

TOW thank we all our God, With heart, and hands and voices, Who wondrous things hath done, In whom his world rejoices; Who from our mother's arms Hath blessed us on our way With countless gifts of love, And still is ours to-day.

2 O may this bounteous God Through all our life be near us! With ever-joyful hearts

And blessed peace to cheer us; And keep us in his grace,

And guide us when perplexed,

And free us from all ills

In this world and the next. Amen.

Martin Rinkart, c. 1636; Tr. Catherine Winkworth, 1858

423

WE

7.6.7.6 D., 6.6.8.4

E plow the fields, and scatter
The good seed on the land,

But it is fed and watered

By God's almighty hand;
He sends the snow in winter,
The warmth to swell the grain,
The breezes and the sunshine,
And soft refreshing rain.
All good gifts around us

Are sent from heaven above;

Then thank the Lord, O thank the
Lord

For all his love.

2 He only is the Maker
Of all things near and far;
He paints the wayside flower,
He lights the evening star;
The winds and waves obey him,
By him the birds are fed;
Much more to us, his children,
He gives our daily bread.
All good gifts, etc.

3 We thank thee, then, O Father,
For all things bright and good,
The seedtime and the harvest,
Our life, our health, our food:
No gifts have we to offer
For all thy love imparts,
But that which thou desirest,
Our humble, thankful hearts.
All good gifts, etc.

424

WE

Amen.

Matthias Claudius, 1782; Tr. Jane M. Campbell, 1861

8.7.8.7.8.8.7

E come unto our fathers' God: Their Rock is our salvation; The eternal arms, their dear abode, We make our habitation;

We bring thee, Lord, the praise they brought,

We seek thee as thy saints have sought In every generation.

2 The fire divine their steps that led Still goeth bright before us,

The heavenly shield, around them spread,
Is still high holden o'er us;

The grace those sinners that subdued,
The strength those weaklings that renewed,
Doth vanquish, doth restore us.