RIGHINI.

6, 4.

VINCENZO RIGHINI.

Obb

1087 Praise to the God of harvest.

1 THE God of harvest praise; In loud thanksgiving raise

Hand, heart, and voice;
The valleys laugh and sing,
Forests and mountains ring,
The plains their tribute bring,
The streams rejoice.

2 Yea, bless his holy name,
And joyful thanks proclaim
Through all the earth;
To glory in your lot
Is comely, but be not
God's benefits forgot,

Amid your mirth.

3 The God of harvest praise; Hands, hearts, and voices raise

With one accord;

From field to garner throng,
Bearing your sheaves along,
And in your harvest song
Bless ye the Lord.

JAMES MONTGOMERY.

The day, in night declining, Says I must, too, decline; The year, its life resigning,Its lot foreshadows mine.

2 The light my path surrounding,
The loves, to which I cling,
The hopes within me bounding,
The joys that round me wing,--
All melt, like stars of even,
Before the morning's ray,
Pass upward unto heaven,
And chide at my delay.

3 The friends, gone there before me, Are calling from on high;

And joyous angels o'er me
Tempt sweetly to the sky:

"Why wait," they say, "and wither 'Mid scenes of death and sin?

O rise to glory, hither,

And find true life begin."

4 I hear the invitation,

And fain would rise and come,

A sinner, to salvation;

An exile, to his home:

But, while I here must linger,

Thus, thus let all I see

Point on, with faithful finger,
To heaven, O Lord, and thee.

HENRY F. LYTK.

AMERICA.

6, 4.

HENRY CAREY.

1089 National hymn.
1 My country! 'tis of thee,
Sweet land of liberty,

Of thee I sing:

Land where my fathers died! Land of the pilgrims' pride! From every mountain side Let freedom ring!

2 My native country, thee,
Land of the noble, free,
Thy name I love:

I love thy rocks and rills,
Thy woods and templed hills:
My heart with rapture thrills

Like that above.

3 Let music swell the breeze, And ring from all the trees Sweet freedom's song: Let mortal tongues awake; Let all that breathe partake; Let rocks their silence break, The sound prolong.

4 Our fathers' God! to thee, Author of liberty,

To thee we sing:

Long may our land be bright With freedom's holy light; Protect us by thy might,

Great God, our King!

SAMUEL F. SMITH.

1090 our native land. 1 GOD bless our native land! Firm may she ever stand,

Through storm and night:

RUSSIAN HYMN.

11, 10, 9.

ALEXIS THEODORE LWOFF.

2 God, the Omnipotent! mighty Avenger, Watching invisible, judging unheard: Save us in mercy, O save us from danger; Give to us peace in our time, O Lord.

3 God, the All-Merciful! earth hath forsaken

Thy ways all holy, and slighted thy word; Let not thy wrath in its terror awaken; Give to us pardon and peace, O Lord.

4 So will thy people, with thankful devotion,

Praise him who saved them from peril and sword,

Shouting in chorus, from ocean to ocean, Peace to the nations, and praise to the Lord.

HENRY F. CHORLEY.

1093 Thanksgiving choral.

1 SWELL the anthem, raise the song; Praises to our God belong;

Saints and angels join to sing

Praises to the heavenly King.

2 Blessings from his liberal hand Flow around this happy land: Kept by him, no foes annoy; Peace and freedom we enjoy.

3 Here, beneath a virtuous sway

May we cheerfully obey;

Never feel oppression's rod,
Ever own and worship God.

4 Hark! the voice of nature sings
Praises to the King of kings;
Let us join the choral song,
And the grateful notes prolong.

NATHAN STRONG.

ZELZAH. C. M.

GERMAN MELODY.

1 GREAT King of nations, hear our prayer, While at thy feet we fall,

And humbly, with united cry,

To thee for mercy call.

2 The guilt is ours, but grace is thine,
O turn us not away;

But hear us from thy lofty throne,
And help us when we pray.

3 Our fathers' sins were manifold,
And ours no less we own,
Yet wondrously from age to age

Thy goodness hath been shown.

4 When dangers, like a stormy sea,
Beset our country round,

To thee we looked, to thee we cried,
And help in thee was found.

5 With one consent we meekly bow
Beneath thy chastening hand,
And, pouring forth confession meet,
Mourn with our mourning land.

6 With pitying eye behold our need,
As thus we lift our prayer;
Correct us with thy judgments, Lord,
Then let thy mercy spare.

JOHN H. GURNEY.

1095 For protection in pestilence. 1 IN grief and fear to thee, O Lord, We now for succor fly;

Thine awful judgments are abroad, O shield us, lest we die.

2 The fell disease on every side Walks forth with tainted breath;

And pestilence, with rapid stride,
Bestrews the land with death.

3 O look with pity on the scene
Of sadness and of dread;

And let thine angel stand between
The living and the dead.

4 With contrite hearts, to thee, our King,
We turn who oft have strayed;
Accept the sacrifice we bring,
And let the plague be stayed.

WILLIAM BULLOCK.

1096 Impending judgments.

1 COME, let our souls adore the Lord,
Whose judgments yet delay;
Who yet suspends the lifted sword,
And gives us time to pray.

2 Great is our guilt, our fears are great,
But let us not despair;
Still open is the mercy-seat

To penitence and prayer.

3 Kind Intercessor, to thy love
This blessed hope we owe:
O let thy merits plead above,
While we implore below.

4 Though justice near thy awful throne Attends thy dread command,

Lord, hear thy servants, hear thy Son, And save a guilty land.

Doxology.

ANNE STEELE.

To Father, Son, and Holy Ghost,
The God whom we adore,
Be glory, as it was, is now,
And shall be evermore!

TATE AND BRADY.

PALESTRINA.

C. M.

GIOVANNI PETRI ALOYSIUS PALESTRINA.

1097 National deliverance ascribed to God.

1 O LORD, our fathers oft have told,
In our attentive ears,

Thy wonders in their days performed,
And in more ancient years.

2 'Twas not their courage, nor their sword, To them salvation gave;

'Twas not their number, nor their strength, That did their country save;

3 But thy right hand, thy powerful arm,
Whose succor they implored;
Thy providence protected them,
Who thy great name adored.

4 As thee their God our fathers owned, So thou art still our King;

O, therefore, as thou didst to them,
To us deliverance bring.

To thee the glory we ascribe,
From whom salvation came;
In God, our shield, we will rejoice,
And ever bless thy name.

TATE AND BRADY.

1098 Prayer for our native land.

1 LORD, while for all mankind we pray, Of every clime and coast,

O hear us for our native land,

The land we love the most.

2 O guard our shores from every foe; With peace our borders bless,

Our cities with prosperity,

Our fields with plenteousness.

1099 Strong to heal and save,

1 THINE arm, O Lord, in days of old
Was strong to heal and save;

It triumphed o'er disease and death,
O'er darkness and the grave:

To thee they went, the blind, the dumb,
The palsied and the lame,

The leper with his tainted life,

The sick with fevered frame.

2 And lo, thy touch brought life and health
Gave speech, and strength, and sight;
And youth renewed and frenzy calmed
Owned thee, the Lord of light:
And now, O Lord, be near to bless,
Almighty as of yore,

In crowded street, by restless couch,
As by Gennesareth's shore,

3 Be thou our great Deliverer still,
Thou Lord of life and death;
Restore and quicken, soothe and bless
With thine almighty breath.

To hands that work, and eyes that see,
Give wisdom's heavenly lore,

That whole and sick, and weak and strong,
May praise thee evermore.

EDWARD H, PLUMPTRE,