1077 [6, 8, 4. Tune, Leoni. Page 406.] THIRD PART. Joining the heavenly choir. 1 THE God who reigns on high The great archangels sing, And, "Holy, holy, holy," cry, "Almighty King! Who was and is the same, And evermore shall be; Jehovah, Father, great I AM, We worship thee." 2 Before the Saviour's face The ransomed nations bow; O'erwhelmed at his almighty grace, Forever new: He shows his prints of love,— They kindle to a flame, And sound through all the worlds above, The slaughtered Lamb! 3 The whole triumphant host Give thanks to God on high; "Hail, Father, Son, and Holy Ghost," They ever cry: Hail, Ábrah'm's God, and mine! I join the heavenly lays,— All might and majesty are thine, GETHSEMANE. Thomas Olivers. 7, 61. 1078 [C. P. M. Tune, Ganges. Page 248.] The pilgrim's lot. 1 How happy is the pilgrim's lot, 2 This happiness in part is mine, 3 There is my house and portion fair; 4 "I come," thy servant, Lord, replies, John Wesley. RICHARD REDHEAD. 1. When this passing world is done,When has sunk yon glaring sun, When we stand with Christ in glory, Looking 'er life's finished story; Then, Lord, shall I fully know, Not till then, how much I owe 3 When the praise of heaven I hear 1080 The fruit of the seasons. 1 LORD, in thy name thy servants plead, 2 Our hope, when autumn winds blew wild, We trusted, Lord, with thee; And still, now spring has on us smiled, 3 The former and the latter rain, The green ear, and the golden grain, All thine, are ours by prayer. 4 Thine, too, by right, and ours by grace, The wondrous growth unseen, The hopes that soothe, the fears that brace, The love that shines serene. John Keble. 1 FOUNTAIN of mercy, God of love, 2 When in the bosom of the earth Thy goodness marked its secret birth, 3 The spring's sweet influence, Lord, was thine; The plants in beauty grew; Thou gav'st refulgent suns to shine, And the refreshing dew. 4 These various mercies from above A kindly harvest crowns thy love, 5 We own and bless thy gracious sway; Thy hand all nature hails: Seed-time nor harvest, night nor day, Mrs. Alice Flowerdew. [L. M. Tune, Duke Street. Page 320.] 1082 Eternal Source of every joy. 1 ETERNAL Source of every joy, 2 The flowery spring, at thy command, 3 Thy hand in autumn richly pours Through all our coasts redundant stores And winters, softened by thy care, No more a face of horror wear. 4 Seasons, and months, and weeks, and days, Demand successive songs of praise ; 5 Here in thy house shall incense rise, Philip Doddridge. ST. GEORGE. 7. D. SIR GEORGE J. ELVEY. 1. Come, ye thankful people, come, Raise the song of harvest-home: All is safely gathered in, Ere the winter storms begin; God, our Maker, doth pro-vide For our wants to be supplied: Come to God's own temple, come, Raise the song of harvest-home. 1 COME, ye thankful people, come, 2 All the world is God's own field, 3 For the Lord our God shall come, 4 Even so, Lord, quickly come 1084 Thanksgiving hymn. 1 PRAISE to God, immortal praise, 2 For the blessings of the field, 3 All that spring with bounteous hand 4 These to thee, my God, we owe, 5 Should thine altered hand restrain 6 Yet to thee my soul should raise Mrs. Anna L. Barbauld, alt. Doxology. SING we to our God above, Charles Wesley. ST. JAMES. 7, 6. FROM LINDEMAN'S KORAL BOK. 1085 Praise to the Lord of harvest. 2 By him the clouds drop fatness, All things with large increase, He crowns the year with goodness, With plenty, and with peace. 3 Heap on his sacred altar The gifts his goodness gave, 4 To God, the gracious Father, Who made us "very good," To Christ, who, when we wandered Restored us with his blood, And to the Holy Spirit, Who doth upon us pour His blessed dews and sunshine, Be praise for evermore! 1086 John S. B. Monsell. God's gifts in nature. 1 WE plow the fields and scatter By God's almighty hand; 3 We thank thee, then, O Father, Our life, our health, our food; For all thy love imparts, From the German of Matthias Claudius. Hand, heart, and voice; The val leys laugh and sing, For - ests and 1087 Praise to the God of harvest. Hand, heart, and voice; 2 Yea, bless his holy name, 3 The God of harvest praise; From field to garner throng, James Montgomery. [7, 6. Tune, St. James. Page 410.] 1088 The preaching leaves. "Come, pilgrim, come away!" The day, in night declining, 2 The light my path surrounding, 3 The friends, gone there before me, Are calling from on high; And joyous angels o'er me Tempt sweetly to the sky: "Why wait," they say, "and wither 'Mid scenes of death and sin? O rise to glory, hither, And find true life begin." 4 I hear the invitation, And fain would rise and come, A sinner, to salvation; An exile, to his home: But, while I here must linger, Henry F. Lyte. |