ARK! what distant music melts upon the ear?

Some seraph sure has touch'd his golden lyre,
And praise resounds through all the heavenly choir.
Ye mortals, catch the soul-commanding sound:
Learn the bless'd theme, and chant the chorus round.
2 O could our strains the rapt'rous notes combine,
Then should our grateful anthems pour along
The smoothing, swelling harmonies of song;
And every breast would glow with Love Divinė!
3 Most gracious God, thy humble suppliants hear!
Accept the tributary lays we bring:

Thy power we own: thy majesty revere;
Thy goodness celebrate; thy glories sing.
And oh! may all in one grand concert raise
To Thee, hosannas of unceasing praise.

HYMN 439.

Dedication Hymn.

P. M.

Him who said, Let there be light,

To Him who parted day and night,
And made the sea and solid ground;'
2 To Him these humble walls we raise,

Him whom the world cannot contain;
To Him we raise glad songs of praise;
Oh God! accept the joyful strain!

3 To Him who made these hearts, that find
Delight in praise, and peace in prayer;
To Him who gave the immortal mind,
And plac'd his own bright image there;
4 To Him we dedicate this house;
To Him our spirits shall ascend;
Here we will make our solemn vows
To God, our Father and our Friend.

5 To Him whose everlasting love.

The Saviour to the world has given; Who sent down Jesus from above

To turn our wandering souls to heaven; 6 To Him we raise this house of prayer: His love our grateful hearts shall till. Here long may Christian friends repair To sing his praise and learn his will,

ANOTHER.

I OD of wisdom, God of might,
Father! dearest name of all,

Bow thy throne and bless our rite;
'Tis thy children on Thee call.
Glorious One! look down from heaven,
Warm each heart and wake each vow,
Unto Thee this House is given,
With thy presence fill it now.

2 Fill it now-on every soul

Shed the incense of thy grace,
While our anthem-echoes roll
Round the consecrated place;
While thy holy page we read,

While the prayers thou lov'st ascend, While thy cause thy servants plead,— Fill this house, our God, our Friend! 3 Fill it now-O fill it long!

So when death shall call us home,
Still to Thee, in many a throng,

May our children's children come.
Bless them, Father, long and late,

Blot their sins, their sorrows dry;
Make this place to them the gate,
Leading to thy courts on high.
4 There, when ti ne shall be no more,
When the feuds of earth are past,
May the tribes of every shore
Congregate in peace at last.

Then to Thee, thou One all wise,
Shall the gather'd millions sing,
Till the arches of the skies
With their hallelujahs ring.

ANOTHER.

N sweet exalted strains,
The King of glory praise:

O'er heaven and earth he reigns,
Through everlasting days:-
He with a nod

The world controls,
His arm supports
The distant poles.

2 To earth he bends his throne,
(His throne of grace divine ;)
Wide is his bounty known,
And wide his glories shine.
O may we find

His promis'd rest-
Be with his smile
And presence blest.

3 Then, King of glory come,
And with thy presence crown
This Temple, as thy dome-
This people as thy own.
Beneath this roof,
O deign to show

How God can dwell
With men below.

4 Here may thine ear attend
Our interceding cries;
And grateful praise ascend,
Like incense to the skies;

Here may thy word
Melodious sound,
Celestial joys
Diffusing round.

SPRAGUE.

5 Here may each willing soul
Imbibe thy truth and love-
And converts join the song
Of seraphim above;

And anxious crowds
Surround thy board,
With sacred joy

And sweet accord.

6 Here may our unborn sons
And daughters sound thy praise,
And shine like polish'd stones,
Through long succeeding days.
Here, Lord, display
Thy saving power-
Till earth and time
Are known no more.

HYMN 440. P. M.
The Dying Christian.

ITAL spark of heavenly flame,
Quit, O quit, this mortal frame!
Trembling, hoping, ling'ring, flying,
O the pain, the bliss of dying!

Cease, fond nature, cease thy strife,
And let me languish into life!

2 Hark! they whisper! Angels say,
Sister spirit, come away.

What is this absorbs me quite,
Steals my senses, shuts my sight,
Drowns my spirit, draws my breath?
Tell me, my soul, can this be death?
3 The world recedes-it disappears!-
Heaven opens on my eyes! my ears
With sounds seraphic ring;

Lend, lend your wings! I mount! I fly!
O grave! where is thy victory?
O death! where is thy sting?

Pore

T

HYMN 441. C. M.

On the death of a Minister.

THOUGH earthly shepherds dwell in dust,
The aged and the young;

The watchful eye in darkness clos'd,
And mute th' instructive tongue;
2 Th' Eternal Shepherd still survives,
New comfort to impart;

His eye still guides us, and his voice
Still animates our heart.

3 To him, when mortal comforts fail,
His suppliant people fly;

And on th' Eternal Shepherd's care,
With cheerful hope rely.

4 The powers of nature. Lord! are thine;
And thine the aids of

grace;

Thine arm has borne thy churches up,
Through every rising race.

5 Exert thy sacred influence here,
Thy mourning servants bless;

O change to strains of cheerful praise
Their accents of distress.

HYMN 442. L. M.

Patience.

ATIENCE, O what a grace divine

love!

That leans upon its Father's band,
As through the wilds of life we rove.
2 By patience we serenely bear
The troubles of our mortal state;
And wait contented our discharge,
Nor think our glory comes too late.
3 Though we in full sensation feel
The weight, the wounds our God ordains,
We smile amidst our heaviest woes,
And triumph in our sharpest pains.