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3 These are thy gifts, almighty King;
From thee our matchless blessings spring;
The extended shade, the fruitful skies,
The comforts liberty bestows,
The eternal joys the gospel shows,
All from thy boundless goodness rise.

4 With grateful hearts, with cheerful tongues,
To God we raise united songs;
His power and mercy we proclaim;
And still, through every age shall own
Jehovah here hath fixed his throne;
And triumph in his mighty name.

5 Long as the moon her course shall run,
Or man behold the circling sun,
Do thou amidst our nation reign;
Still crown her counsels with success,
With peace and joy her borders bless,
And all her sacred rights maintain.

598 PRAISE roR National Blessings. 7s.

SW; the anthem, raise the song;
Praises to our God belong;

Saints and angels join to sing

Praise to heaven's almighty King.

2 Blessings from his liberal hand,
Pour around this happy land;
Let our hearts, beneath his sway,
Hail the bright, triumphant day.

3 Now to thee our joys ascend,
Thou hast been our heavenly Friend:
Guarded by thy mighty power,
Peace and freedom bless our shore.

4 Here, beneath a virtuous sway,

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

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


OWEREIGN of all the worlds above, Thy glory, with unclouded rays, Shines through the realms of light and love, Inspiring angels with thy praise.

2 Thy power we own, thy grace adore;
Thou deign'st to visit man below ;
And in affliction's darkest hour,
The humble shall thy mercy know.

3 These western States at thy command,
Rose from dependence and distress;
Prosperity now crowns the land,
And millions join thy name to bless.

4 Praise is thy due, eternal King;
We’ll speak the wonders of thy love;
With grateful hearts our tribute bring,
And emulate the hosts above.

5 O be thou still our guardian God;
Preserve these States from every foe;
From party rage, from scenes of blood,
From sin, and every cause of woe.

6 Here may the great Redeemer reign,
Display his grace, and saving power;
Here liberty and truth maintain,
Till empires fall to rise no more.

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Alo Sovereign of the skies,
To thee let songs of gladness rise,

Each grateful heart its tribute bring,

And every voice thy goodness sing.

2. From thee our choicest blessings flow,
Life, health and strength thy hands bestow,
The daily good thy creatures share,
Springs from thy providential care.

3 The rich profusion nature yields,
The harvest waving o'er the fields,
The cheering light, refreshing shower,
Are gifts from thy exhaustless store.

4 At thy command the vernal bloom
Revives the world from winter's gloom;
The summer's heat the fruit matures,
And autumn all her treasures pours.

5 From thee proceed domestic ties,
Connubial bliss, parental joys;
On thy support the nations stand,
Obedient to thy high command.

6 Let every power of heart and tongue,
Unite to swell the grateful song;
While age and youth in chorus join,
And praise the majesty divine.


So, gracious God, before thy throne,
Thy mourning people bend;

'Tis on thy sovereign grace alone,
Our humble hopes depend.

2 Tremendous judgments from thy hand, Thy dreadful power display;

Yet mercy spares this guilty land,
And still we live to pray.

3 What numerous crimes increasing rise,
Through this apostate land 1
What land so favoured of the skies,
Yet thoughtless of thy hand 1

4 How changed, alas! are truths divine,
For error, guilt, and shame !
What impious numbers, bold in sin,
Disgrace the Christian name !

5 Regardless of thy smile or frown,
Their pleasures they require;
And sink with gay indifference down
To everlasting fire.

6 0 turn us, turn us, mighty Lord,
By rich and sovereign grace:
Then shall our hearts obey thy word,
And humbly seek thy face.

7. Then should insulting foes invado,
We shall not sink in fear;
Secure of never-failing aid,
If God, our God is near.

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OUI: days, alas! our mortal days,
Are short and wretched too ;

“Evil and few,” the patriarch says,
And well the patriarch knew.

2 ”Tis but at best a narrow bound
That heaven allows to men,
And pains and sins run through the round
Of threescore years and ten.

3 Well, if ye must be sad and few,
Run on, my days, in haste;
Moments of sin, and months of woe,
Ye cannot fly too fast.

4 Let heavenly love prepare my soul,
And call her to the skies,
Where years of long salvation roll,
And glory never dies.


HALL the vile race of flesh and blood,

Contend with their Creator, God?
Shall mortal worms presume to be
More holy, wise, or just, than he

2 Behold he puts his trust in none
Of all the spirits round his throne;
Their natures, when compared with his,
Are neither holy, just, nor wise.

3 But how much meaner things are they,
Who spring from dust, and dwell in clay !
Touched by the finger of thy wrath,
We faint and perish like the moth.

4 From night to day, from day to night,
We die by thousands in thy sight:
Buried in dust whole nations lie,
Like a forgotten vanity.

5 Almighty Power, to thee we bow;
How frail are wel how glorious thou !
No more the sons of earth shall dare,
With an eternal God compare.

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