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1 Through all the various shifting scene
Of life's mistaken ill or good,
Thy hand, O God, conducts, unseen,
The beautiful vicissitude.

2 Thou givest with a father's care,
Howe'er unjustly we complain,
To all their well appointed share
Of joy and sorrow, health and pain.

3 All things on earth, and all in heaven,
On Thy eternal will depend;

And all for greater good were given,
Would man pursue the appointed end.

4 Be this our care; to all beside
Indifferent let our wishes be;

Passion be calm, and dumb be pride,
And fixed our souls, O God, on Thee!

117. P. M.

1 Thou, Lord, through every changing scene,
Hast to Thy saints a refuge been;
Through every age, eternal God,
Their pleasing home, their safe abode:
In Thee our fathers sought their rest;
In Thee our fathers still are blest.

2 Lo! we are risen, a feeble race,
Awhile to fill our fathers' place;
Our helpless state with pity view,
And let us share their refuge too;
When friends desert, and foes invade,
Be Thou, O Lord, our present aid.
3 And when this pilgrimage is o'er,
And we must dwell on earth no more,
To Thee our infant race we leave;
Them may their fathers' God receive;
That voices, yet unformed, may raise
Succeeding hymns of humble praise.

118. C. M.

1 How lovely are Thy dwellings, Lord,
From noise and trouble free!

How beautiful the sweet accord
Of souls that pray to Thee!

2 Lord God of hosts, that reign'st on high!

They are the truly blest,

Who only will on Thee rely,

In Thee alone will rest.

3 They pass refreshed the thirsty vale,
The dry and barren ground,

As through a fruitful, watery dale,
Where springs and showers abound.

4 They journey on from strength to strength, With joy and gladsome cheer,

Till all before our God at length
In Zion do appear.

5 For God the Lord, both sun and shield,
Gives grace and glory bright:
No good from them shall be withheld
Whose ways are just and right.

119. P. M.

1 The Lord my pasture shall prepare,
And feed me with a shepherd's care;
His presence shall my wants supply,
And guard me with a watchful eye;
My noon-day walks He shall attend,
And all my midnight hours defend.
2 When in the sultry glebe I faint,
Or on the thirsty mountain pant;
To fertile vales and dewy meads
My weary wandering steps He leads;
Where peaceful rivers, soft and slow,
Amid the verdant landscape flow.
3 Though in a bare and rugged way
Through devious, lonely wilds I stray,
His bounty shall my pains beguile ;
The barren wilderness shall smile,
With sudden greens and herbage crowned,
And streams shall murmur all around.

4 Though in the paths of death I tread,
With gloomy horrors overspread,
My stedfast heart shall fear no ill,
For Thou, O Lord, art with me still;
Thy friendly hand shall give me aid,
And guide me through the dreadful shade.

120. P. M.

1 The mighty God who rolls the spheres,
And storm, and fire, and hail prepares,
And guides this vast machine;
His powerful hand our life sustains,
And scatters all those joys and pains
That fill this chequered scene.

2 His piercing eye at once surveys
Where thousand suns and systems blaze,
And where the sparrow falls;

While seraphs tune their harps on high,
His ear attends the softest cry,
When human misery calls.

3 Eternal God! who shall not fear,
And trust, and love with soul sincere,
Thy awful, glorious name?

While man, Thy creature, swift decays,
Time has no measure for Thy days,
Nor limit for Thy fame.

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1 High in the heavens, eternal God,
Thy goodness in full glory shines;
Thy truth shall break through every cloud
That veils and darkens Thy designs.

2 For ever firm Thy justice stands,
As mountains their foundations keep:
Wise are the wonders of Thy hands,
Thy judgments are a mighty deep.

3 Thy providence is kind and large,
Both man and beast Thy bounty share;
The whole creation is Thy charge,
But saints are Thy peculiar care.

4 My God, how excellent Thy grace, Whence all our hope and comfort springs! The sons of Adam in distress

Fly to the shadow of Thy wings.

5 Life, like a fountain rich and free,
Springs from the presence of the Lord;
And in Thy light our souls shall see
The glories promised in Thy word.

122. L. M.

1 The Lord is just; He made the chain
Which binds together guilt and pain.
The Lord is just; He loves to shed
His blessings where the virtues tread.

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