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3 Blest hour, when God himself draws nigh,
Well pleased his people's voice to hear,
And wipe away the mourner's tear.
Foretastes of future bliss are given,
The house of God, the gate of heaven.
E. TAYLOR. Invitation to the House of God. 1 COME to the house of prayer,
O thou afflicted, come;
He makes that house his home. 2 Come to the house of praise,
Ye who are happy now ;
In kindred homage bow. 3 Ye aged, hither come,
For ye have felt his love ;
Your lips forget to move. 4 Ye young, before his throne,
Come, bow ; your voices raise ;
Who gives the power to praise. 5 Thou, whose benignant eye.
In mercy looks on all,
And hear'st the mourner's call, 6 Up to thy dwelling-place
Bear our frail spirits on,
C. M. H. M. WILLIAMS.
Be my vain wishes stilled ;
With better hopes be filled.
To thee my thoughts would soar ;
life has flowed ;
Thy ruling hand I see !
Because conferred by thee.
In every pain I bear,
Or seek relief in prayer.
Thy love my thoughts shall fill;
My soul shall meet thy will. 6 My lifted eye, without a tear,
The gathering storin shall see ;
That heart shall rest on thee.
E. TAYLOR. The Lord's Day. 1 O FATHER, though the anxious fear
May cloud to-morrow's doubtful way,
All shall be thine at least to-day.
But each unholy thought departs,
And leaves the temple wholly thine. 3 O Father, God below, above!
Man's noblest work is praising thee;
And tune them all to harmony.
Of earth and folly born;
From this celestial morn.
To feel your harsh control;
The Sabbath of my soul.
Let fires of vengeance die;
A God of purity !
The day divinely given,
And earth draws near to heaven.
Within thy courts we bend,
Our Father and our Friend.
Nor only is the day thine own
When man draws near to God.
Of yon unmeasured sky ;
Of grand eternity.
Dawn on thy servants' sight ;
In heaven's unclouded light.
And hail the sacred day;
Your joyful homage pay ;
The Lord of life arose,
And vanquished all our foes ;
Of all his love.
Heaven with hosannas rings ;
Thy praise responsive sings;
Through endless years That once was slain, To live and reign. 14. L. M.
BARBAULD. The Sacrifice of the Heart. 1 WHEN, as returns this solemn day, Man comes to meet his Maker, God,
What rites, what honors, shall he pay ?
How spread his sovereign name abroad? 2 From marble domes and gilded spires
Shall curling clouds of incense rise,
The costly pomp of sacrifice ? 3 Vain, sinful man ! creation's Lord
Thy golden offerings well may spare ;
Here dwells a God who heareth prayer. 4 O, grant us, in this solemn hour,
From earth and sin's allurements free,
And raise each raptured thought to thee !
God has brought us on our way ;
Waiting in his courts to-day, -
Emblem of eternal rest.
Through the dear Redeemer's name,
Take away our sin and shame;
May we rest, this day, in thee.
Let us feel thy presence near ;
While we in thy house appear ;