O, Judge of the world, when arrayed in thy glory, Thy summons again shall be heard from on high, While nature stands trembling and naked before thee, And waits on thy sentence to live or to die; When the heaven shall fly fast from the sound of thy thunder, And the sun, in thy lightnings, grow languid and pale, And the sea yield her dead, and the tomb cleave asunder, In the hour of thy terrors, let mercy prevail. TWENTY-FIRST SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY. THE Sound of war! In earth and air Of bitter doubt the barbed aim, All, all conspire his heart to tame : Gods of the world, ye warrior host In vain is all your impious boast, Faith like a buckler, guards his breast, 'Tis past, 't is o'er! in foul defeat The demon host are fled, Before the Saviour's mercy-seat, (His live-long work of faith complete,) Their conqueror bends his head. 'The spoils thyself hast gained, Lord: I lay before thy throne: Thou wert my rock, my shield, my sword; My trust was in thy name and word : 'T was in thy strength my heart was strong; Thy spirit went with mine along ; How was I then alone?' TWENTY-SECOND SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY. O God, my sins are manifold, against my life they cry, And all my guilty deeds foregone, up to thy temple fly; Wilt thou release my trembling soul, that to despair is driven? 'Forgive!' a blessed voice replied, and thou shalt be forgiven.' My foemen, Lord, are fierce and fell, they spurn me in their pride, They render evil for my good, my patience they deride; Arise, O King, and be the proud to righteous ruin driven. 'Forgive!' an awful answer came, as thou would'st be forgiven.' Seven times, O Lord, I pardoned them, seven times they sinned again : They practise still to work me wo, they triumph in my pain; But let them dread my vengeance now, to just resentment driven. "Forgive!' the voice of thunder spake, or never be forgiven.' TWENTY-THIRD SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY. FROM foes that would the land devour; From blinded zeal by faction led; Defend, O God, with guardian hand, And grant our church thy grace to stand In faith and unity; The spirit's help of thee we crave, That thou, whose blood was shed to save, Mayest, at thy second coming, have A flock to welcome thee. |