291 ST. MATTHEW C. M. D.

4

12

(J92) The race that long in dark-ness pined, Have seen a glorious Light;

The people dwell in day who dwelt In death's sur-round-ing night.

To hail Thy rise, Thou better Sun, The gath -'ring na

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WILLIAM CROFT

2 For Thou our burden hast removed,
And quelled th' oppressor's sway,
Quick as the slaughtered squadrons fell
In Midian's evil day.

To us a Child of Hope is born,
To us a Son is given;

Him shall the tribes of earth obey,
Him all the hosts of heaven.

The har-vest treas-ures home. A-men.

293 MISSIONARY CHANT L. M.

3

(J=66) Ye Christian her-alds, go pro-claim

2 God shield you with a wall of fire,
With holy zeal your hearts inspire,
Bid raging winds their fury cease,
And hush the tempest into peace.

294 DEDHAM C. M.

(J=72) Lord! while for all

4 4

-9:

To distant climes the tidings bear, And plant the Rose of Sharon there. A - men.

2..

Oh, hear us for our

Home Missions

na

する

Sal-va-tion thro' Em-man- uel's name;

man-kind we pray, Of ev

HEINRICH C. Zeuner

WILLIAM GARDINER

-0

tive land, The land we love the most.

'ry clime and coast,

8:

2 Oh, guard our shores from every foe,
With peace our borders bless,
With prosperous times our cities crown,
Our fields with plenteousness.

3 Unite us in the sacred love

Of knowledge, truth, and Thee: And let our hills and valleys shout The songs of liberty.

295 HOLBORN HILL L. M.

3

41

(J=84) Look from Thy sphere of end-less day,

3 64

e

In pit- y look on those who stray Benighted in this land of light.

bo

2 In peopled vale, in lonely glen,

In crowded mart, by stream or sea,
How many of the sons of men

Hear not the message sent from Thee.

3 Send forth Thy heralds, Lord, to call

The thoughtless young, the harden'd old,
A scattered, homeless flock, till all

Be gathered to Thy peaceful fold.

4 Send them Thy mighty word to speak,
Till faith shall dawn, and doubt depart
To awe the bold, to stay the weak,

And bind and heal the broken heart.

5 Then all these wastes, a dreary scene,
That make us sadden as we gaze,
Shall grow, with living waters, green,

And lift to heaven the voice of praise. Amen.

of might;

A-men.

WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT

0 - cean,

Our prairies and our moun-tains, Forest and fer tile field,

Our rivers, lakes and fountains, To Thee shall tribute yield. A-men