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1

COME

OME, we that love the Lord, And let our joys be known; Join in a song of sweet accord, And thus surround the throne. 2 The sorrows of the mind

Be banished from this place:
Religion never was designed
To make our pleasures less.
3 The God that rules on high,

And thunders when He please,
That rides upon the stormy sky,
And manages the seas;

4 This awful God is ours,

To us reveals His love;

He will send down His heavenly powers
To carry us above.

5 There shall we see His face,
And never, never sin;

There, from the rivers of His grace,
Drink endless pleasures in.

6 Yes, and before we rise
To that immortal state,
The thought of such amazing bliss
Should constant joy create.
7 The sons of God have found
Glory begun below;

Celestial fruits on earthly ground
From faith and hope may grow.

S.M.

8 Then let our songs abound,
And every tear be dry;
We're marching through Immanuel's ground
To fairer worlds on high.

WATTS.

9

1

IFT up to God the voice of praise,
Whose breath our souls inspired;
Loud and more loud the anthem raise,
With grateful ardour fired.

2 Lift up to God the voice of praise,
Whose tender care sustains
Our feeble frame, encompassed round
With death's unnumbered pains.

3 Lift up to God the voice of praise,
Whose goodness, passing thought,
Loads every minute as it flies,
With benefits unsought.

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4 Lift up to God the voice of praise,
From whom salvation flows;
Who sent His Son our souls to save
From everlasting woes.

5 Lift up to God the voice of praise,
For hope's transporting ray,
That lights through darkest shades of death
To realms of endless day.

C M.

FILL

LL Thou my life, O Lord my God,
In every part with praise,
That my whole being may proclaim
Thy being and Thy ways.

2 Not for the lip of praise alone,
Nor even the praising heart,
I ask, but for a life made up
Of praise in every part,-

WARDLAW.

C.M.

3 Praise in the common words I speak,
Life's common looks and tones,
In intercourse at hearth or board
With my belovéd ones.

4 Not in the temple crowd alone,
Where holy voices chime,
But in the silent paths of earth,
The quiet rooms of time.

5 Fill every part of me with praise;
Let all my being speak

Of Thee and of Thy love, O Lord!
Poor though I be, and weak.

6 So shalt Thou, Lord, from me, even me,
Receive the glory due,

And so shall I begin on earth

The song for ever new.

7 So shall each fear, each fret, each care,
Be turned into a song,
And every winding of the way
The echo shall prolong.

8 So shall no part of day or night
From sacredness be free;
But all my life, in every step,
Be fellowship with Thee.

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1

H. BONAR.

C.M.

WHEREFORE, Lord, doth Thy dear

praise
But tremble on my tongue?
Why lack my lips sweet skill to raise
A full triumphant song?

0

2 How can this heart divinely glow,
So ready to transgress?

Thy broken law doth dull me so;
My sins Thy praise oppress.

3 Oh make me, Lord, Thy statutes learn!
Keep in Thy ways my feet;
Then shall my lips divinely burn;
Then shall my songs be sweet.

4 Each sin I cast away shall make
My soul more strong to soar;
Each work I do for Thee shall wake
A strain divine the more.

5 My voice shall more delight Thine ear
The more I wait on Thee;

Thy service brings my song more near
The angelic harmony.

6 0, wherefore swells so sweet above
The everlasting hymn?

Thy will they work, Thy law they love,
Those tuneful Seraphim.

7 0, when shall perfect holiness
Make this poor voice divine,
And all harmonious heaven confess
No sweeter song than mine?

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T. H. GILL.

2 Not in formal adorations,
Nor with servile deprecations,
But in spirit true and free.

887.

1 RACIOUS Power, the world pervading, U Blessing all, and none upbraiding, We are met to worship Thee;

3 By Thy wisdom mind is lighted,
By Thy love the heart excited,

Light and love all flow from Thee;

4 And the soul of thought and feeling,
In the voice Thy praises pealing,
Must Thy noblest homage be.

5 Not alone in our devotion,
In all being, life and motion,
We the present Godhead see.
6 Gracious Power, the world pervading,
Blessing all, and none upbraiding,
We are met to worship Thee.

W. J. FOX

13 FULL

1

ULL many a smile, full many a song
Makes glad my portion here;
Lord, all my strains to Thee belong;
Thou sendest all my cheer.

2 Joy! joy! when Thou the theme dost lend,
When Thou the song dost make!

How sweet Thy gifts on Thee to spend,
Thy glory home to take.

3 I sing because Thy works are fair;
Thy glory makes me glad;
Thy garments bright of praise I wear,
For Thou art brightly clad.

4 Full triumph doth my soul possess,
Because Thy ways are right;
The glory of Thy righteousness
Maketh my dear delight.

C.M.

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