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SWEET HOUR OF PRAYER.

W. B. BRADBURY.

FINE.

D.S.

122.

S

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WEET hour of prayer! sweet hour of prayer!
That calls me from a world of care,

And bids me at my Father's throne

Make all my wants and wishes known;
In seasons of distress and grief,
My soul has often found relief,
And oft escaped the tempter's snare
By thy return, sweet hour of prayer.

2 Sweet hour of prayer! sweet hour of prayer!
Thy wings shall my petition bear,
To him whose truth and faithfulness
Engage the waiting soul to bless;
And, since he bids me seek his face,
Believe his word, and trust his grace,
I'll cast on him my every care,

And wait for thee, sweet hour of prayer.

FULTON. 7s.

W. B. BRADBURY.

123.

Matt. 7: 7-11.

NOME, my soul, thy suit prepare,

Jesus loves to answer prayer;
He himself has bid thee pray;
Rise, and ask without delay.

2 With my burden I begin ;-
Lord, remove this load of sin;
Let thy blood, for sinners spilt,
Set my conscience free from guilt.

3 Lord, I come to thee for rest,
Take possession of my breast;
There, thy sovereign right maintain,
And, without a rival, reign.

4 While I am a pilgrim here,

Let thy love my spirit cheer;

NEWTON.

Be my guide, my guard, my friend :—
Lead me to my journey's end.

5 Show me what I have to do,
Every hour my strength renew;
Let me live a life of faith,
Let me die thy people's death.

124.

SA

1 John 4: 19.

AVIOUR, teach me day by day,
Love's sweet lesson to obey ;
Sweeter lesson cannot be :

Loving him who first loved me.
2 With a childlike heart of love,
At thy bidding may I move,
Prompt to serve and follow thee-
Loving him who first loved me.
3 Love in loving finds employ—
In obedience all her joy;
Ever new that joy will be:
Loving him who first loved me.

125.

4 Thus may I rejoice to show
That I feel the love I owe;
Singing till thy face I see,
Of his love who first loved me.

S

Eph. 5: 18-20.

WEET the time, exceeding sweet!
When the saints together meet,
When the Saviour is the theme,
When they joy to sing of him.

2 Sing we then eternal love,
Such as did the Father move:
He beheld the world undone,
Loved the world, and gave his Son.
3 Sing the Son's amazing love;

How he left the realms above,
Took our nature and our place,
Lived and died to save our race.

4 Sing we, too, the Spirit's love:

With our stubborn hearts he strove,
Filled our minds with grief and fear,
Brought the precious Saviour near.
5 Sweet the place, exceeding sweet,
Where the saints in glory meet;
Where the Saviour 's still the theme,
Where they see and sing of him.

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ST. PETERSBURGH. L. M. [Six lines, by observing repeat.]

BORTNIANSKY.

126.

"Splendor paternæ gloriæ."

CHRIST! with each

AMBROSE OF MILAN.
J. CHANDLER, Tr.

Thine image to our heart be borne;
And may we ever clearly see
Our God and Saviour, Lord, in thee!
2 All hallowed be our walk this day;
May meekness form our early ray,
And faithful love our noontide light,
And hope our sunset, calm and bright.
3 May grace each idle thought control,
And sanctify our wayward soul;
May guile depart, and malice cease,
And all within be joy and peace.
4 Our daily course, O Jesus, bless;
Make plain the way of holiness:
From sudden falls our feet defend,
And cheer at last our journey's end.

127.

Mal. 4: 2.

SHRUBSOLE.

WHEN, streaming from the eastern skies,

The morning light salutes mine eyes,

O Sun of righteousness divine,

On me with beams of mercy shine!
Oh! chase the clouds of guilt away,
And turn my darkness into day.

2 And when to heaven's all glorious King
My morning sacrifice I bring,

And, mourning o'er my guilt and shame,

Ask mercy in my Saviour's name;
Then, Jesus, cleanse me with thy blood,
And be my Advocate with God.

3 When each day's scenes and labors close,
And wearied nature seeks repose,
With pardoning mercy richly blest,
Guard me, my Saviour, while I rest ;
And, as each morning sun shall rise,
Oh, lead me onward to the skies!
HURSLEY. L. M.

HAYDN.

128.

SUN

Luke 24: 29.

UN of my soul! thou Saviour dear,
It is not night if thou be near:
Oh, may no earth-born cloud arise
To hide thee from thy servant's eyes!

2 When soft the dews of kindly sleep
My wearied eyelids gently steep,
Be my last thought,-how sweet to rest
For ever on my Saviour's breast!

3 Abide with me from morn till eve,
For without thee I can not live;
Abide with me when night is nigh,
For without thee I dare not die.

4 Be near to bless me when I wake,
Ere through the world my way I take;
Abide with me till in thy love

I lose myself in heaven above.

KEBLE.

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