444.

I COME, let us join our cheerful songs

With angels round the throne;

Ten thousand thousand are their tongues, But all their joys are one.

2 Jesus is worthy to receive

Honor and power divine;

And blessings, more than we can give,
Be, Lord, forever thine.

3 Let all that dwell above the sky,
And air, and earth, and seas,
Conspire to lift thy glories high,
And speak thine endless praise.

4 The whole creation join in one,
To bless the sacred name
Of him that sits upon the throne,
And to adore the Lamb.

445.

I O, FROM these visions dark and drear,
Kind Father, set me free!

I struggle yet with darkness here:
My God, remember me.

2 Refresh my drooping soul with grace
And quickening energy;
Still running, toiling in the race,

My God, remember me.

3 Some cheering ray of hope impart,
Sweet influence from thee;
And raise this feeble, drooping heart:
My God, remember me.

4 For the inheritance in light,

On trembling wings, I flee;

With sins and doubts and fears I fight: My God, remember me.

4

0 - ver

flowing streams To fill them ev'ry one.

446.

I MAKE channels for the streams of love,
Where they may broadly run;
And love has overflowing streams

To fill them every one.

2 But if at any time we cease Such channels to provide, The very fount of love for us

Will soon be parched and dried.

3 For we must share, if we would keep, That blessing from above;

Ceasing to give, we cease to have:
Such is the law of love.

Burnap. C.M.

#3

447.

I O LOVE! O Life! our faith and sight Thy presence maketh one;

As through transfigured clouds of white
We trace the noonday sun.

2 So, to our mortal eyes subdued,
Flesh-veiled, but not concealed,
We know in thee the fatherhood
And heart of God revealed.

3 The homage that we render thee
Is still our Father's own;
Nor jealous claim or rivalry

Divides the Cross and Throne.

4 Our Friend, our Brother, and our Lord, What may thy service be?

Nor name, nor form, nor ritual word,
But simply following thee.

5 Thy litanies, sweet offices
Of love and gratitude;
Thy sacramental liturgies,
The joy of doing good.

448.

1 RETURN, O wanderer, now return,

And seek thy Father's face;
Those new desires which in thee burn,
Were kindled by his grace.

2 Return, O wanderer, now return;
He hears thy humble sigh;
He sees thy softened spirit mourn,
When no one else is nigh.

3 Return, O wanderer, now return;
Thy Father bids thee live;
Go to his feet, and grateful learn
How freely he 'll forgive.

4 Return, O wanderer, now return,
And wipe the falling tear;
Thy Father calls, — no longer mourn ;
'Tis love invites thee near.

I

3 If on our daily course, our mind
Be set to hallow all we find,

New treasures still, of countless price,
God will provide for sacrifice.

4 Old friends, old scenes, will lovelier be,
As more of heaven in each we see;
Some softening gleam of love and prayer
Shall dawn on every cross and care.

5 The trivial round, the common task,
Will furnish all we need to ask;
Room to deny ourselves, a road
To bring us daily nearer God.
Only, O Lord, in thy dear love,
Fit us for perfect rest above;
And help us, this and every day,
To live more nearly as we pray.

6

4 4

1 IT came upon the midnight clear,
That glorious song of old,
From angels bending near the earth,
To touch their harps of gold:
"Peace on the earth, good-will to men,
From heaven's all-gracious King."
The world in solemn stillness lay
To hear the angels sing.

2 Still through the cloven skies they come, With peaceful wings unfurled;

And still their heavenly music floats

O'er all the weary world: Above its sad and lowly plains

They bend on hovering wing, And ever o'er its Babel sounds

The blessed angels sing.

3 But with the woes of sin and strife
The world has suffered long;
Beneath the angel-strain have rolled
Two thousand years of wrong;

And man, at war with man, hears not
The love-song which they bring :
O, hush the noise, ye men of strife,
And hear the angels sing!

4 And ye, beneath life's crushing load,
Whose forms are bending low,
Who toil along the climbing way

With painful steps and slow, -
Look now; for glad and golden hours
Come swiftly on the wing:

O, rest beside the weary road,

And hear the angels sing!

5 For lo! the days are hastening on,
By prophet bards foretold,
When with the ever-circling years
Comes round the age of gold;
When Peace shall over all the earth
Its ancient splendors fling,

And the whole world give back the song
Which now the angels sing.