1 О! how happy are they
Who the Saviour obey,
And have laid up their treasures above!
Oh, what tongue can express
The sweet comfort and peace
Of a soul in its earliest love!
2 It was heaven below
My Redeemer to know!
3 Oh, the rapturous height
Of that holy delight,
Which I felt in the life-giving blood!
Of my Saviour possess'd
I was perfectly blest,
As if filled with the fulness of God. 4 Jesus all the day long
Was my joy, and my song, [name
And the angels could do nothing more, Was redemption through faith in his
Than to fall at his feet,
And the story repeat,
And the lover of sinners adore.
Oh, that all might believe,
And salvation receive,
And their song and their joy be the same.
12 As children of thy gracious care,
We veil the eye, we bend the knee;
With broken words of praise and prayer,
Father and God, we come to thee.
The laborer sits beneath his vine;
Public Humiliation.
1 GREAT Framer of unnumbered worlds,
And whom unnumbered worlds adore!
Whose goodness all thy creatures share, 3
While nature trembles at thy power,—
2 Thine is the hand that moves the spheres,
That wakes the wind, and lifts the sea;
And man, who moves the lord of earth,
Acts but the part assigned by thec.
3 While suppliant crowds implore thine
To thee we raise the humble cry; [aid, 1
Thine altar is the contrite heart,
Thine incense a repentant sigh.
4 This day we deeply mourn our sins,
Confess thy power, and bless thy rod;
Oh, let us know thy pardoning love,
And find in thee a guardian God.
The soul is glad, the hand is free, Thanksgiving! for the work is thine! Praise, for the blessing is of thee!
Our Pilgrim Fathers.
O GOD, beneath thy guiding hand,
Our exiled fathers crossed the sea;
And when they trod the wintry strand,
With prayer and psalm they worshipped thee.
2 Thou heard'st, well-pleased, the song,
the prayer,-
[power
Thy blessing came; and still its
Shall onward, through all ages, bear
The memory of that holy hour.
Thanksgiving.
1 0 HOLY Father! just and true [ways; 3
Are all thy works, and words, and
And unto thee alone are due
Thanksgiving and eternal praise.
Laws, freedom, truth, and faith in God
Came with those exiles o'er the waves, And where their pilgrim feet have trod, The God they trusted guards their graves.
1 IN pleasant lands have fallen the lines
That bound our goodly heritage,
And safe beneath our sheltering vines 5
Our youth is blest, and soothed our age.
2 What thanks, O God, to thee are due,
That thou didst plant our fathers here,
And watch and guard them as they grew, 6
A vineyard, to the planter dear.
3 The toils they bore, our ease have wrought;
They sowed in tears-in joy we reap;
The birthright they so dearly bought
We'll guard till we with them shall sleep.
4 Thy kindness to our fathers shown,
In weal and woe through all the past,
Their grateful sons, O God, shall own,
While here their name and race shall last.
840
1 RING out, wild bells, to the wild sky,
The flying cloud, the frosty light;
The year is dying to the night;
Ring out wild bells, and let him die.
2 Ring out the old, ring in the new;
Ring, happy bells, across the snow;
The year is going; let him go;
Ring out the false, ring in the true.
3 Ring out the grief that saps the mind,
For those that here we see no more;
Ring out the feud of rich and poor
Ring in redress to all mankind.
And ancient forms of party strife;
Ring in the nobler modes of life,
With sweeter manners, purer laws.
Ring out false pride in place and blood,
The civic slander and the spite;
Ring in the love of truth and right,
Ring in the common love of good.
Ring in the valiant man and free,
The larger heart, the kindlier hand;
Ring out the darkness of the land,
Ring in the Christ that is to be.
The Year crowned with Goodness.
ETERNAL Source of every joy!
Well may thy praise our lips employ,
While in thy temple, we appear,
Whose goodness crowns the circling year.
The flowery spring, at thy command,
Embalms the air and paints the land;
The summer rays, with vigor, shine
To raise the corn, and cheer the vine.
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.
He bids us make his glories known,-1
His work of power and grace;
And we'll convey his wonders down,
Through every rising race.
2 Our lips shall tell them to our sons,
And they again to theirs,
That generations yet unborn,
May teach them to their heirs.
Thus shall they learn, in God alone
Their hope securely stands;
That they may ne'er forget his works,
But practice his commands.
Address the Lord on high; Over the heavens he spreads his cloud, And waters vail the sky.
He sends his showers of blessings down To cheer the plains below; He makes the grass the mountains crown, And corn in valleys grow.
We scarce can deem more fair that
Of perfect bliss and love.
2 Is this a shadow faint and dim
Of that which is to come?
What shall the unveiled splendor be, Of our celestial home,
Он, guard our shores from every foe,
With peace our borders bless,
With prosperous times our cities crown,
Our fields with plenteousness!
Unite us in the sacred love
Of knowledge, truth, and thee;
And let our hills and valleys shout
The songs of liberty.
Here may religion pure and mild
Smile on our Sabbath hours,
And piety and virtue bless
The home of us and ours.
Lord of the nations, thus to thee
Our country we commend:
Be thou her refuge and her trust,
Her everlasting friend.
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