SING we the song of those who stand
Around the eternal throne,

Of every kindred, clime, and land,
A multitude unknown.

2 Life's poor distinctions vanish here:
To-day the young, the old,
Our Saviour and his flock appear
One Shepherd and one fold.

3 Toil, trial, sufferings still await
On earth the pilgrim throng;
Yet learn we in our low estate

The Church Triumphant's song.

4 "Worthy the Lamb for sinners slain," Cry the redeemed above; "Blessing and honor to obtain,

And everlasting love!"

5 "Worthy the Lamb," on earth we sing, "Who died our souls to save! Henceforth, O Death! where is thy sting? Thy victory, O Grave!"

James Montgomery.

WITH joy we hail the sacred day
Which God hath called his own;
With joy the summons we obey
To worship at his throne.

2 Thy chosen temple, Lord, how fair!
Where willing votaries throng
To breathe the humble, fervent prayer,
And pour the choral song.

ARISE, O King of grace! arise,

And enter to thy rest;

Harriet Auber.

Lo! thy church waits, with longing eyes, Thus to be owned and blest.

2 Enter, with all thy glorious train,
Thy Spirit and thy word;

All that the ark did once contain
Could no such grace afford.

3 Here, mighty God! accept our vows;
Here let thy praise be spread:
Bless the provisions of thy house,
And fill thy poor with bread.

4 Here let the Son of David reign,
Let God's Anointed shine;
Justice and truth his court maintain,
With love and power divine.

5 Here let him hold a lasting throne;
And, as his kingdom grows,
Fresh honors shall adorn his crown,
And shame confound his foes.

Isaac Watts.

38

Christ's Presence sought.

AGAIN our earthly cares we leave,
And to thy courts repair;
Again with joyful feet we come,
To meet our Saviour here.

2 Great Shepherd of thy people, hear!
Thy presence now display;

We bow within thy house of prayer;
Oh! give us hearts to pray.

3 The clouds which vail thee from our sight, In pity, Lord, remove:

Dispose our minds to hear aright

The message of thy love.

4 The feeling heart, the melting eye,
The humble mind bestow;
And shine upon us from on high,

To make our graces grow.

5 Show us some token of thy love,
Our fainting hope to raise;
And pour thy blessing from above,
That we may render praise.

BEATITUDO. C. M.

John Newton.

NOW THAT the sun is gleaming bright,
Implore we, bending low,

That he, the uncreated Light,
May guide us as we go.

2 No sinful word, nor deed of wrong,
Nor thoughts that idly rove;
But simple truth be on our tongue,
And in our hearts be love.

3 And while the hours in order flow,
O Christ, securely fence

Our gates, beleaguered by the foe,
The gate of every sense.

4 And grant that to thine honor, Lord, Our daily toil may tend;

That we begin it at thy word,

And in thy favor end.

5 Now to our God, the Father, Son, And Holy Spirit, sing:

With praise to God, the Three in One, Let all creation ring.

J. H. Newman.

J. B. DYKES.

42

Psalm 65.

PRAISE waits in Zion, Lord! for thee;
There shall our vows be paid;

Thou hast an ear when sinners pray;
All flesh shall seek thine aid.

2 O Lord! our guilt and fears prevail,
But pardoning grace in thine;
And thou wilt grant us power and skill,
To conquer every sin.

3 Blest are the men, whom thou wilt choose To bring them near thy face;

Give them a dwelling in thy house
To feast upon thy grace.

4 In answering what thy church requests,
Thy truth and terror shine;
And works of dreadful righteousness
Fulfill thy kind design.

5 Thus shall the wondering nations see The Lord is good and just;

The distant isles shall fly to thee,
And make thy name their trust.

Isaac Watts.

MIRFIELD. C. M.

ARTHUR COTTMAN.

My soul, how lovely is the place,
To which thy God resorts!

'Tis heaven to see his smiling face,
Though in his earthly courts.

2 There the great Monarch of the skies
His saving power displays;
And light breaks in upon our eyes,
With kind and quickening rays.

3 With his rich gifts the heavenly Dove Descends and fills the place;

While Christ reveals his wondrous love, And sheds abroad his grace.

4 There, mighty God, thy words declare The secrets of thy will;

And still we seek thy mercy there,

And sing thy praises still.

Isaac Watts.

SPEAK to me, Lord, thyself reveal,
While here on earth I rove;
Speak to my heart, and let me feel
The kindling of thy love.

2 With thee conversing, I forget
All time and toil and care;
Labor is rest, and pain is sweet,
If thou, my God, art here.

3 Thou callest me to seek thy face;
Thy face, O God, I seek,-
Attend the whispers of thy grace,
And hear thee inly speak.

4 Let this my every hour employ, Till I thy glory see,

Enter into my Master's joy,
And find my heaven in thee.

Charles Wesley.