1177 He shall bless thee in the land.

Deut. xxviii. 8.

God bless our native land!
Firm may she ever stand

Through storm and night;
When the wild tempests rave,
Ruler of winds and wave,
Do thou our country save
By thy great might.

For her our prayer shall rise To God above the skies;

On him we wait:

Thou who art ever nigh, Guarding with watchful eye, To thee aloud we cry,

God save the State!

Though earthly joys decrease,
Though human friendships cease,
Now I have lasting peace;
Jesus is mine..

Though I grow poor and old,
He will my faith uphold;
Jesus is mine,

He shall my wants supply;
His precious blood is nigh,
Naught can my hope destroy;
Jesus is mine.

When earth shall pass away,
In the great judgment day,
Jesus is mine.

Oh, what a glorious thing
Then to behold my King,
On tuneful harps to sing,
Jesus is mine.

Father! thy name I bless;
Thine was the sovereign grace;
Praise shall be thine.

Spirit of holiness!

Sealing the Father's grace,
Thou mad'st my soul embrace

Jesus as mine.

Henry Joy McC. Hope, 1852.

Let there be light. Gen. i. 3.

1177-1180

Thou, whose almighty word
Chaos and darkness heard,
And took their flight;
Hear us, we humbly pray,
And where the gospel day
Sheds not its glorious ray,
"Let there be light."

Thou who didst come to bring
On thy redeeming wing,
Healing and sight,

Health to the sick in mind,
Sight to the inly blind;
Oh now, to all mankind,
"Let there be light."

Spirit of truth and love,
Life-giving, holy Dove,

Speed forth thy flight;
Move o'er the water's face
By thine almighty grace;
And in earth's darkest place,
"Let there be light."

1180

6s & 48.

John Marriott, ab. 1813.

Come, all ye saints of God,
Wide through the earth abroad
Spread Jesus' fame:

Tell what his love hath done;
Trust in his name alone;
Shout to his lofty throne,
'Worthy the Lamb!"

Hence, gloomy doubts and fears;
Dry up your mournful tears;
Swell the glad theme:
To Christ our gracious King
Strike each melodious string,
Join heart and voice to sing,
"Worthy the Lamb."

Hark! how the choirs above,
Filled with the Saviour's love,

Dwell on his name!

There, too, may we be found,
With light and glory crowned,
While all the heavens resound,
Worthy the Lamb."

James Boden, 1801.

Mark xvi. 15.

Sound, sound the truth abroad, Bear ye the word of God

Through the wide world;

Tell what our Lord has done,
Tell how the day is won,
And from his lofty throne
Satan is hurled.

Speed on the wings of love!
Jesus, who reigns above,
Bids us to fly;

They who His message bear
Should neither doubt nor fear,
He will their Friend appear;
He will be nigh.

Ye who, forsaking all
At your loved Master's call,
Comforts resign;

Soon will your work be done,
Soon will the prize be won,
Brighter than yonder sun
Then shall ye shine.

1185

Thomas Kelly, ab. 1820.

Peace I leave with you. John xiv. 27.

1184-1187

Peace, peace, I leave with you,
My peace I give to you,
Trust to my care!
Thus the Redeemer said,
And bowed his sacred head,
Lone in the garden shade,
Wrestling in prayer.

Peace, peace, I leave with you,
My peace I give to you,
Perfect and pure;

Not as the world doth give,
Words that the soul deceive;
Ye who in me believe
Shall rest secure.

68 & 4s.

Peace, peace, I leave with you,
My peace I give to you,

Though foes invade;
All power is given to me,
I will your refuge be,
Now and eternally,
Be not dismayed!

He first loved us. 1 John iv. 19.

Thou blessed Son of God,

Hast bought me with thy blood,

Jesus, my Lord!

Oh, how great is thy love,

All other loves above,
Love that I daily prove,
Jesus, my Lord!

When unto thee I flee,
Thou wilt my refuge be,

Jesus, my Lord!
What need I now to fear?
What earthly grief or care,
Since thou art ever near?

Jesus, my Lord!

Soon thou wilt come again!
I shall be happy then,

Jesus, my Lord!
Then thine own face I'll see,
Then I shall like thee be,
Then evermore with thee,
Jesus, my Lord!

James George Deck, ab. 1887.

Thomas Hastings, 1784-1872.

Offer the first of thy ripe fruits. 6s & 4s..
Ex. xxii. 29.

The God of harvest praise;
In loud thanksgiving raise

Hand, heart, and voice;
The valleys laugh and sing;
Forests and mountains ring;
The plains their tribute bring;
The streams rejoice.

The few seeds scattered wide,
His name hath multiplied;
Here thou may'st find
Christ's miracle renewed;
With self-producing food,
He feeds a multitude;

He feeds mankind.

The God of harvest praise;
Hands, hearts, and voices raise
With sweet accord;
From field to garner throng,
Bearing your sheaves along,
And in your harvest song
Bless ye the Lord.

James Montgomery, ab. 1822.

1188

Deut. ix. 1.

My days are gliding swiftly by,

And I, a pilgrim stranger, Would not detain them as they fly, Those hours of toil and danger;

CHORUS.

For oh! we stand on Jordan's strand,
And soon we'll all pass over,
And just before, the shining shore
We may almost discover.

We'll gird our loins, my brethren dear,
Our distant home discerning;
Our absent Lord has left us word,
Let every lamp be burning;
Should coming days be cold and dark,
We need not cease our singing;
That perfect rest nought can molest,
Where golden harps are ringing.
Let sorrow's rudest tempest blow,
Each chord on earth to sever,
Our King says Come, and there's our home,
Forever, oh, forever!

David Nelson, 1835. 8s & 7s.

Awake, awake, ye sons of joy, Break forth in music swelling;

That tells the Saviour's glory;
Let myriad tongues the strain prolong,
And chant redemption's story.

Weeping may for a night endure,
Joy cometh in the morning;
The night is short, the morn is sure,
Behold, the day is dawning!
Too long in darkness and in fears,
Complaining and repining,
Your souls have spent the night of tears,
But now the skies are shining!

Lo, beauteous feet the mountains climb,
And shout the joyous warning,
While breaks along the hills of time
The splendor of the morning.
The watchman saith, The morning comes!
The night of sorrow flieth;
Life's light is flashing in the tombs,
Lo, death, the monster, dieth.

Awake, awake, no longer weep,

No longer sigh in sadness;
Let your exulting spirits leap

In songs of thankful gladness:
Ye who in dust have dwelt so long,
Awake, ye blest immortals;
Return to Zion, and with song,
Pass through her pearly portals.

Let your glad voices find employ, The Saviour's praises telling:

H., 1880.

Until the day dawn. 2 Peter i. 19.

1190
8s & 7s.
The night is wearing fast away,
The day of glory's dawning,
When Christ shall all his grace display;
The fair Millennial morning.
Gloomy and dark the night has been,
And long the way and dreary;
And sad the weeping saints are seen,
And faint, and worn, and weary.
Ye mourning pilgrims, cease your tears,
And hush each sigh of sorrow;
The light of that bright morn appears,
The long sabbatic morrow.
Lift up your heads-behold from far,
A flood of splendor streaming!
It is the bright and Morning Star,
In living lustre beaming.
And see that star-like host around
Of angel bands attending;
Hark! hark! the trumpet's glad'ning sound,
'Mid shouts triumphant blending.
He comes!the Bridegroom promis'd long,
Go forth with joy to meet him;
And raise the new and nuptial song,
In cheerful strains to greet him.
Adorn thyself, the feast prepare,

While bridal strains are swelling;
He comes, with thee all joys to share,
And make this earth his dwelling.
Lift up your heads-behold from far
A flood of splendor streaming!
It is the bright and Morning Star,
In living lustre beaming!

Hoare, cir. 1840?

8s & 7s.

And is it so? A little while,
And then the life undying;
The light of God's unclouded smile,
The singing for the sighing!
A little while! Oh, glorious word!
Sweet solace to our sorrow,
And then forever "with the Lord,"
The everlasting morrow.
Then be it ours to journey on

In paths that He decrees us,
Where his own feet before have gone,
Our Strength, our Hope, our Jesus;

1190-1192

In lowly fellowship with Him
The cross appointed bearing;
For oh, a crown no grief can dim
One day we shall be wearing.

A little while! and He shall come-
Light of our eyes, our longing-
His own voice bid us welcome home;
And we, his people, thronging,
Shall rest our hearts in his embrace,
Dear Refuge-ours forever!-
Look upward to his blessed face,
And fear its hiding never!

Oh, 'twill be passing sweet to gaze
On Him in all his glory,
And, lost in love and glad amaze,
To shout redemption's story;
Till angels bend to catch the strain
Our human lips are swelling,
And "Worthy is the Lamb once slain,"
Resounds thro' heaven's high dwelling.

Unknown, cir. 1860.

Turn, O backsliding children. 8s & 7s.

Jer. iii. 14.

1192
Poor weary wanderer, far from peace,
When wilt thou cease thy straying?
Oh come, and from thy wand'rings cease,
Thy Saviour's voice obeying,
He will be nigh, your steadfast friend,
From youth till hairs are hoary;
Will guide you safely to the end,

And bring you home to glory.

Ah! there are crowns for you and me, And shall we fail to wear them? And there are palms of victory,

Oh shall we never bear them? Ah, there are songs that we may hear, Shall we not join the singing? And harps of endless joy are there,

Oh shall not ours be ringing?

Why shrink before a frowning world,
Why fear their vain deriding,
When they to ruin's depths are hurled,
Our peace shall be abiding.
Ah, then, for us shall joy remain,
And life and love undying,
For God shall banish woe and pain,
And tears, and grief, and sighing.

H., 1878.