His adorable will
Let us gladly fulfil,
And our talents improve
By the patience of hope, and the labor of love.
2 Our life is a dream;
Our time, as a stream,
Glides swiftly away,
And the fugitive moment refuses to stay:
The arrow is flown-
The moment is gone-
The millennial year
Rushes on to our view, and eternity's here.
3 Oh, that each in the day
Of His coming may say
"I have fought my way throughI have finish'd the work which Thou gav'st me to Oh, that each, from his Lord, May receive the glad word. "Well and faithfully done!
Enter into my joy, and sit down on my throne!"
NTERNAL Source of every joy!
Ewell may Thy praise our lips employ,
While in Thy temple we appear
To hail Thee Sov'reign of the year.
2 Wide as the wheels of nature roll,
Thy hand supports and guides the whole!
The sun is taught by Thee to rise,
And darkness when to veil the skies.
The flow'ry spring, at Thy command,
Perfumes the air and paints the land;
The summer rays with vigor shine,
To raise the corn and cheer the vine.
Seasons, and months, and weeks, and days
Demand successive songs of praise;
And be the grateful homage paid,
With morning light and ev'ning shade.
Here in Thy house let incense rise,
And circling sabbaths bless our eyes,
Till to those lofty heights we soar,
Where days and years revolve no more.
RAISE to God, immortal praise,
For the love that crowns our days;
Bounteous Source of ev'ry joy,
Let Thy praise our tongues employ;
All to Thee, our God, we owe,
Source whence all our blessings flow.
2 All the blessings of the fields,
All the stores the garden yields,
Flocks that whiten all the plain,
Yellow sheaves of ripen'd grain
Lord, for Thee our souls shall raise
Grateful vows and solemn praise.
3 Clouds that drop their fatt'ning dews,
Suns that genial warmth diffuse,
All the plenty summer pours,
Autumn's rich o'erflowing stores;
All to Thee, our God, we owe,
Source whence all our blessings flow.
4 Peace, prosperity, and health,
Private bliss and public wealth,
Knowledge, with its gladd'ning streams,
Pure religion's holier beams—
Lord, for these our souls shall raise
Grateful vows and solemn praise.
OUNTAIN of mercy, God of love,
How rich Thy bounties are;
The changing seasons, as they move,
Proclaim Thy constant care.
2 When in the bosom of the earth,
The sower hid the grain,
Thy goodness mark'd its secret birth,
And sent the early rain.
3 The spring's sweet influence, Lord, was Thine, The plants in beauty grew;
Thou gav'st refulgent suns to shine,
And soft refreshing dew.
4 These varied mercies, from above,
Matured the swelling grain:
A kindly harvest crowns Thy love,
And plenty fills the plain.
5 We own and bless Thy gracious sway;
Thy hand all nature hails:
Seed-time nor harvest, night nor day,
Summer nor winter fails.
W Proclaim the op'ning year,
WHEN brighter suns and milder skies
What various sounds of joy arise!
What prospects bright appear!
2 Earth and her thousand voices give
Their thousand notes of praise;
And all that by His mercy live,
To God their offering raise.
3 Thus, like the morning, calm and clear, That saw the Saviour rise,
The spring of heaven's eternal year
Shall dawn on earth and skies.
4 No winter there, no shades of night,
Obscure those mansions blest,
Where, in the happy fields of light,
The weary are at rest.
YOME, ye thankful people, come,
Raise the song of Harvest Home!
All is safely gather'd in,
Ere the winter storms begin:
God our Maker doth provide
For our wants to be supplied:
Come to God's own temple, come,
Raise the song of Harvest Home!
2 We ourselves are God's own field,
Fruit unto His praise to yield:
Wheat and tares together sown,
Unto joy or sorrow grown:
First the blade, and then the ear,
Then the full corn shall appear;
Grant, O Harvest-Lord, that we
Wholesome grain and pure may be!
3 For the Lord our God shall come,
And shall take His harvest home:
From His field shall in that day
All offences purge away:
Give His angels charge at last
In the fire the tares to cast;
But the fruitful ears to store
In His garner evermore.
4 Then, thou Church Triumphant, come,
Raise the song of Harvest Home!
All are safely gather'd in,
Free from sorrow, free from sin;
There forever purified,
In God's garner to abide:
Come, ten thousand angels, come,
Raise the glorious Harvest Home!
E come, O Lord, before Thy throne,
And, with united plea,
We meet and pray for those who roam
Far off upon the sea.
2 Oh, may the Holy Spirit bow
The sailor's heart to Thee,
Till tears of deep repentance flow
Like rain-drops on the sea.
3 Then may a Saviour's dying love
Pour peace into his breast,
And waft him to the port above,
Of everlasting rest.
DEATH AND BURIAL.
HOU art gone to the grave, but we will not deplore thee,
Though sorrows and darkness encompass the tomb;
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