408. c. M.

For the Lord's Day Morning.

1 THIS is the day the Lord hath made
He calls the hours his own:
Let heav'n rejoice, let earth be glad,
And praise surround the throne.

2 This day arose our glorious head,
And death's dread empire fell;
This day the saints his triumph spread,
And all its wonders tell.

3 Bless'd be the Lord, who comes to men With messages of

grace;

Who comes, in God his Father's name,
To save our sinful race.

4 Hosanna! in the highest strains
The church on earth can raise :
The highest heav'ns in which he reigns,
Shall give him nobler praise.

409. C. M.

Watts

Providence kind and bountiful.

1 THY kingdom, Lord, forever stands,
While earthly thrones decay;
And time submits to thy commands,
While ages roll away.

2 Thy sov'reign bounty freely gives
Its unexhausted store;

And universal nature lives
On thy sustaining pow'r.

3 Holy and just are all thy ways;
Thy goodness is divine;
In all thy works, immortal rays
Of pow'r and mercy shine.

4 Thy praise, O God! delightful theme!
Shall fill each heart and tongue :
Let all creation bless thy name
In one eternal song.

Mrs. Steele.

410. C. M.

Supplication for the Divine Blessing on the Word. 1 THY gracious aid, great God! impart, To give thy word success; Write all its precepts on the heart, And deep its truths impress.

2 0 speed our progress in the way,
That leads to joys on high,

Where knowledge grows without decay,
And love shall never die.

411. C. M.

Exeter Coll.

Praise to the God of the Seasons. Ps. lxv.

1 'Tis by thy strength the mountains stand God of eternal pow'r!

The seas grow calm at thy command,
And tempests cease to roar.

2 Thy morning light, and ev'ning shade, Successive comforts bring:

Thy plenteous fruits make harvest glad
Thy flow'rs adorn the spring.

s Seasons, and times, and days, and hours,
Heav'n, earth, and air, are thine:
When clouds distil in fruitful show'rs
The author is divine.

4 The thirsty ridges drink their fill,
And ranks of corn appear:
Thy ways abound with blessings still:
Thy goodness crowns the year.

412. L. M.

Watts.

Praise for the Blessings given through Jesus. 1 To God, of ev'ry good the spring, The tribute of your praises bring,

For grace and truth, through Jesus giv'n,
Mercy, and peace, and hopes of heav'n.

2 Grateful the joyous news proclaim,
Salvation is in Jesus' name;
Salvation-shout the glorious sound,
Proclaim it to the world around.

3 Tell ev'ry fearful, trembling soul,
That gospel grace will make them whole :
Invite the weary poor to come;
At Jesus' feast there still is room.

4 Jesus-that name shall calm their fears,
Dispel their doubts, and dry their tears,
Shall ease the anxious throbbing breast,
And give the weary mourner rest.

5 Jesus-our Prophet, Saviour, King,-
For Jesus, grateful praise we bring
To thee, from whom his blessings flow'd,
To thee, our Father and our God!

413. L. M.

Exeter Coll.

The Triumphs of the exalted Saviour. Ps cx. 1-4.

1 THUS the eternal Father spake

To Christ the Son: "Ascend and sit
At my right hand, till I shall make
Thy foes submissive at thy feet.

2 From Zion shall thy word proceed;
Thy word, the sceptre in thy hand,
Shall make the hearts of rebels bleed,
And bow their wills at thy command.

3 That day shall show thy pow'r is great,
When saints shall flock with willing minds,
And sinners croud thy temple gate,
Where holiness in beauty shines."

4 O blessed pow'r! O glorious day!
What a large vict'ry shall ensue!
And converts, who thy grace obey,
Exceed the drops of morning dew.

414. C. M.

Watts.

A threefold Cord is not easily broken.
1 THE Lord in pow'r and wisdom reigns,
With everlasting might;

Unchanging love and truth maintains,
And beams celestial light.

2 No human mind can comprehend
His vast, mysterious plan;

Nor angels, who before him bend,
His boundless nature scan.

1

3 O trust in God, each trembling soul; Dispondency, away!

His blessings reach from pole to poke, A plenitude for thee.

4 Wisdom, for good, doth all controul,
And love and pow'r agree;

This threefold cord, believe, my soul,
Can never broken be.

5 Unite in praise, O men, your hearts,
And strike the golden lyre;
Angels, attune your golden harps,
And sound his praises high'r.

415. C. M.

Christ's Invitation.

S. Streeter.

1 THE Saviour calls! let ev'ry ear
Attend the heav'nly sound!
Ye doubting souls dismiss your fear!
Hope smiles reviving round.

2 For ev'ry thirsty, longing heart,
Here streams of bounty flow;
And life and health, and bliss impart
To banish mortal woe.

3 Here springs of sacred pleasure rise
To ease your ev'ry pain;