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Who lay'st thy temple's starry beams
2 Conduct us o'er the trackless waste
3 And as the liquid plains we rove,
4 But teach us, – more than all the rest, —
5 That when life's weary voyage is past,
1 REviving sleep! thy sheltering wing
2. As calm and cold as mortal clay
3 But, lighted 'neath heaven's temple arch,
4 O then thy spirit, Lord, anew
5 Be nature's gentle slumbers mine;
92. C. M. BP. HEBER.
.# Vision of Jerusalem.
1 JERUsALEM, Jerusalem! enthroned once on high, Thou favoured home of God on earth, thou heaven below the sky, Now brought to bondage with thy sons, a curse and grief to See Jerusalem, jerusalem our tears shall flow for thee.
2 Oh hadst thou known thy day of grace, and flocked beneath the wing
Of him who called thee lovingly, thine own anointed King,
Then had the tribes of all the world gone up thy pomp to
See And glory dwelt within thy gates, and all thy sons been free
3 “And who art thou that mournest me 2' replied the ruin
gray “And forest not rather that thyself may prove a castaway? I am a dried and abject branch, my place is given to thee;. But wo to every barren graft of thy wild olive tree!
4 “Our day of grace is sunk in night, our time of mercy spent, For heavy was my children's crime, and strange their punishment; Yet gaze not idly on our fall, but, sinner, warned be, Who spared not his chosen seed, may send his wrath on thee!
5 “Our day of grace is sunk in night, thy noon is in its prime;
93. C. M. WEs LEY.
1 LoRD, in the strength of grace,
Myself, my residue of days,
2 Thy ransomed servant I
And from this moment live or die,
Leader of faithful souls and guide, -
Lord, 'tis a pleasant thing to stand, -
May I, throughout this day of thine, -
Not to the mount that burned with fire,
O for an overcoming faith, - - -
Peace be to this habitation, - -
Peace has unveiled her smiling face, - - - - 50
The Almighty reigns exalted high, - - - - - 18
Thee will I love, my strength, my tower, - - - - 54
There was joy in heaven, - - - - - - - 37
To thee let my first offerings rise, - - - - - 2
Up to the fields where angels lie, - - - - - 57
When power divine in mortal form, - - - - - 25
When quiet in my house I sit, - - - - - - 20
While I keep silence and conceal, - - - - - 36
Your harps, ye trembling saints, - - - - - 58.