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When time has run its destined course, and all our

years are fled,

He comes with monarch's pomp and power, to wake and judge the dead;

Then help us, Lord, while sinners' hearts shall sicken with dismay,

To lift our heads, and joyful hail Redemption's perfect day.

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THAT day of wrath, that dreadful day,
When heaven and earth shall pass away-
What power shall be the sinner's stay?
How shall he meet that dreadful day?

When, shrivelling like a parched scroll,
The flaming heavens together roll;
When louder yet, and yet more dread,
Swells the high trump that wakes the dead;

Oh! on that day, that wrathful day,
When man to judgment wakes from clay,
Be Thou, O Christ, the sinner's stay,
Though heaven and earth shall pass away.

HOLYDAYS.

113.

SAINTS' DAYS.

THE Son of God goes forth to war,
A kingly crown to gain;

His blood-red banner streams afar
Who follows in his train?

:

C.M.

Who best can drink his cup of woe,
Triumphant over pain;

Who patient bears his cross below,
He follows in his train.

The martyr first, whose eagle eye
Could pierce beyond the grave;
Who saw his Master in the sky,
And call'd on Him to save.

Like him, with pardon on his tongue,
In midst of mortal pain,

He pray'd for them that did the wrong:
Who follows in his train?

A glorious band, the chosen few,
On whom the Spirit came;

Twelve valiant saints, their hope they knew,
And mock'd the cross and flame.

They climb'd the steep ascent of heaven
Through peril, toil, and pain :

Oh God! to us may grace be given
To follow in their train.

114.

SAINTS' DAYS.

O LORD! in all our trials here,
Whate'er those trials be,

Help us without one doubt or fear
To cast our care on Thee;

C.M.

To look from earth to yon bright sky,

And there by faith behold

The glories hid from mortal eye,
To mortal ear untold!

And if contempt, reproach, or loss
We suffer for thy name,
Teach us to triumph in the cross,
To glory in the shame.

115.

SAINTS' DAYS.

THEE we adore, eternal Lord!

L.M.

We praise thy name with one accord; Thy saints, who here thy goodness see, Through all the world do worship Thee. To Thee aloud all angels cry,

And ceaseless raise their songs on high;
Both Cherubin and Seraphin,

The heavens and all the powers therein.
The Apostles join the glorious throng;
The Prophets swell th' immortal song;
The Martyrs' noble army raise
Eternal anthems to thy praise.

Thee, Holy, holy, holy King!
Thee, Lord of Sabaoth, they sing:
Thus earth below, and heaven above,
Resound thy glory and thy love.

116.

ST. ANDREW'S DAY.

JESUS calls us, o'er the tumult

Of our life's wild restless sea,
Day by day his sweet voice soundeth,
Saying, "Christian, follow Me."

P.M.

As, of old, St. Andrew heard it
By the Galilean lake,

Turn'd from home, and toil, and kindred,
Leaving all for His dear sake.

JESUS calls us from the worship
Of the vain world's golden store,
From each idol that would keep us—
Saying, "Christian, love Me more."

In our joys and in our sorrows,
Days of toil, and hours of ease,
Still He calls, in cares and pleasures,
"Christian, love Me more than these."

JESUS calls us-By thy mercies,
Saviour, may we hear thy call,
Give our hearts to thy obedience,
Serve and love Thee, best of all.

117.

ST. THOMAS'S DAY.

O THOU, who didst with love untold
Thy doubting servant cheer,

And bade the of
eye

sense

behold

What faith should have made clear,

C.M.

Grant us, like him, with heartfelt awe,
To own Thee God and Lord,

And from his hour of darkness draw
A fuller faith's reward!

And while that wondrous record now

Of unbelief we hear,

Oh! let us only lowlier bow

In self-distrusting fear;

And pray that we may never dare
Thy Spirit so to grieve;
But, at the last, their blessing share
Who see not, yet believe.

118.

ST. STEPHEN'S DAY.

HEAD of the Church triumphant,
We joyfully adore Thee;

Till Thou appear,

Thy members here

Shall sing like those in glory.
We lift our hearts and voices
With blest anticipation,
And cry aloud,

And give to God

The praise of our salvation.

Thou dost conduct thy people
Through torrents of temptation ;
Nor will we fear,

While Thou art near,

The fire of tribulation;

The world, with sin and Satan,
In vain our march opposes:
By Thee we shall

Break through them all,
Ere death our conflict closes.

By faith we see the glory

To which Thou shalt restore us;

The world despise

For that high prize

Which Thou hast set before us;

P.M.

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