Imágenes de páginas
PDF

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.

[ocr errors]

TWENTY-FIRST SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY.

The sound of war! In earth and air

The volleying thunders roll:
Their fiery darts the fiends prepare,
And dig the pit, and spread the snare,

Against the Christian's soul.
The tyrant's sword, the rack, the flame,

The scorner's serpent tone,
Of hitter doubt the barbed aim,
All, all conspire his heart to tame:
Force, fraud, and hellish fires assail
The rivets of his heavenly mail,

Amidst his foes alone.

Gods of the world, ye warrior host

Of darkness and of air,
In vain is all your impious boast,
In vain each missile lightning tost,

In vain the tempter's snare.
Though fast and far your arrows fly,

Though mortal nerve and bone
Shrink in convulsive agony,
The Christian can your rage defy;
Towers o'er his head salvation's crest,
Faith like a buckler, guards his breast,
Undaunted, though alone.

'T is past, 't is o'er! in foul defeat

The demon host are fled,
Before the Saviour's mercy-seat,
(His livelong 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 thon 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 guilty pride, and lust of power;
From wild sedition's lawless hour;

From yoke of slavery;
From blinded zeal by faction led;
From giddy change by fancy bred;
From poisonous error's serpent head,

Good Lord, preserve us free.

Defend, O God, with guardian hand,

The laws and ruler of our land,

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.

[ocr errors]
« AnteriorContinuar »