3 Praise Him, all ye hosts above,
Spirits perfected in love!

Sun and moon, your voices raise;
Sing, ye stars, your Maker's praise!

4 Earth, from all thy depths below,
Ocean's hallelujahs flow;

Lightning, vapour, wind and storm,
Hail and snow, His will perform.

5 Vales and mountains burst in song;
Rivers roll with praise along!
Birds on wings of rapture soar,
Warble at His temple-door!

6 High above all height His throne;
Excellent His name alone;
Him let all His works confess!
Him let every being bless!

106. L. M.

1 Give to our God immortal praise;
Mercy and truth are all His ways;
Wonders of grace to God belong,
Repeat His mercies in your song.

2 Give to the Lord of lords renown,
The King of kings with glory crown ;
His mercies ever shall endure,

When lords and kings are known no more.

3 He built the earth, He spread the sky,
And fixed the starry lights on high;
Wonders of grace to God belong,
Repeat His mercies in your song.

4 He fills the sun with morning light,
And bids the moon direct the night;
His mercies ever shall endure,

When suns and moons shall shine no more.

5 He sent His son with power to save From guilt, and darkness, and the grave; Wonders of grace to God belong,

Repeat His mercies in your song.

6 Through this vain world He guides our feet, And leads us to His heavenly seat;

His mercies ever shall endure,
When this vain world shall be no more.

107. L. M.

1 When up to nightly skies we gaze,
Where stars pursue their endless ways,
We think we see from earth's low clod
The wide and shining home of God.

2 But could we rise to moon or sun,
Or path where planets duly run,
Still heaven would spread above us far,
And earth remote would seem a star.

3 This earth, with all its dust and tears,
Is His, no less than yonder spheres ;
And rain-drops weak, and grains of sand
Are stamped by His immediate hand.

4 And is this all that Man can claim ?
Is this our longings' final aim?
To be like all things round,-
Than pebbles cast on Time's gray shore?

no more

5 Not this our doom, thou God benign!
Whose rays on us unclouded shine:
Thy breath sustains yon fiery dome;
But Man is most Thy favoured Home.

6 We view those halls of painted air,
And own Thy presence makes them fair;
But dearer still to Thee, O Lord!

Is he whose thoughts to Thine accord.

108. L. M.

1 O source of uncreated light,

By whom the worlds were raised from night, Come visit every pious mind;

Come pour Thy joys on human kind!

2 Thrice holy fount, thrice holy fire,
Our hearts with heavenly love inspire;
From sin and sorrow set us free,
And make Thy temples worthy Thee.

3 Refine and purge our earthly parts;
But, oh, inflame and fire our hearts!
Our frailties help, our vice control,
Submit the senses to the soul.

4 Chase from our minds the infernal foe,
And peace, the fruit of love, bestow;
And lest our feet should step astray,
Protect and guide us in the way.

5 Make us eternal truths receive,
And practise all that we believe:
Give us Thyself, that we may see
The Father and the Son by Thee.

109. L. M.

1 Father of lights! we sing Thy name,
Who kindlest up the lamp of day;
Wide as he spreads his golden flame,
His beams Thy power and love display.

2 Fountain of good! from Thee proceed
The copious drops of genial rain,

Which o'er the hills, and through the mead,
Revive the grass, and swell the grain.

3 Through the wide world Thy bounties spread; Yet numbers of our guilty race,

Though by Thy daily bounty fed,
Affront Thy law and slight Thy grace.

4 Not so may our forgetful hearts
O'erlook the tokens of Thy care;
But what Thy liberal hand imparts,
Still own in praise, still ask in prayer.

5 So shall our suns more grateful shine,
And showers in richer drops shall fall,
When all our hearts and lives are Thine,
And Thou, our God, adored in all.

110. P. M.

1 When Spring unlocks the flowers to paint the laughing soil;

When Summer's balmy showers refresh the mower's toil;

When Winter binds in frosty chains the fallow and the flood,

In God the Earth rejoiceth still, and owns her Maker good.

2 The birds that wake the morning, and those that love the shade;

The winds that sweep the mountain, or lull the drowsy glade;

The sun that from his amber bower rejoiceth on

his way;

The Moon and Stars, their Master's name in silent pomp display.