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3 Though Jesus sometimes hides his face, And darkness overspreads our ways; Oh, 'tis a soul-reviving word,

"Our steps are order'd by the Lord!"

4 Soon shall we reach that land of joy, Where pleasures are without alloy; And there with gratitude record, "Our steps were order'd by the Lord!"

Hosea xiii, 9. (c. M.)

1 WHEN most we need his helping hand, The Lord is always near;

With heav'n and earth, at his command,
He waits to answer pray'r.

2 His love no bound, nor measure knows;
Time cannot turn its course;
Unchangeably the same, it flows
From one eternal source.

3 When darkness seems to veil his face,
And clouds surround his throne,
He hides the purpose of his grace,
To make it better known.

4 And when our dearest comforts fail,
Before his sov'reign will,

He still to us is all in all;

Himself he gives us still.

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Nehemiah ix, 15. (P. M.)

1 THOU sinner's Friend, Redeemer, Lord,
We feed upon thy precious word,
That manna from above;
As through the wilderness we go,
The living streams around us flow,
The streams of grace and love.

2 We drink, and fresh renew our way,
Thy cloud our guide, we cannot stray,
Safe led by pow'r divine:

Though dangers thick our path surround,
Our feet shall stand on holy ground,
Secure, for we are thine.

3 Thus trav'lling on the heav'nly road,
To Zion's temple, lov'd abode,
We reach the promis'd rest;
And, Jordan's swellings past in death,
Triumphant yield our parting breath,
To be with Jesus blest.

79

Job xlix, 1. (c. M.)

1 REMARK, my soul, the narrow bounds Of the revolving year;

How swift the weeks complete their rounds, How short the months appear!

2 So fast eternity comes on,

And that important day;

When all that mortal hand has done,
God's judgment shall survey.

3 Waken, O God, my trifling heart,
Its great concern to see;
Thy Spirit to my soul impart,
To give myself to thee.

4 So shall their course more fruitful roll,
If future years arise;

Or this shall bear my happy soul
To joy that never dies.

80

2 Corinthians v, 1. (c. M.)

1 THERE is a house, not made with hands, Eternal and on high;

And here my spirit waiting stands,
Till God shall bid it fly.

2 Shortly this prison of my clay
Must be dissolv'd and fall:

Then, O my soul, with joy obey,
Thy heavenly Father's call.

3 'Tis he, by his almighty grace,

That forms thee fit for heav'n;
And, as an earnest of the place,
Has his own Spirit giv'n.

4 We walk by faith of joys to come;
Faith lives upon his word;

But while the body is our home,

We're absent from the Lord.

5 "Tis pleasant to believe thy grace,
But we had rather see;

We would be absent from the flesh,
And present, Lord, with thee.

81

1 Corinthians xv, 20. (P. M.)

1 O JOYFUL sound! O glorious hour! When Christ, by his almighty pow'r, Arose and left the

grave:

Now let our songs his triumphs tell,
Who broke the chains of death and hell,
And ever lives to save.

2 "The first begotten from the dead,"
Behold him rise, his people's head,
Immortal life to bring:

What though the saints like him shall die,
They share their leader's victory,

And triumph with their King.

3 No more we tremble at the grave;
For he, who died our souls to save,
Will raise our bodies too :

What though this earthly house shall fail,
The Saviour's power will yet prevail,
And build it up anew.

82

Psalm xxiii, 5. (L. M.)

1 MY God, and is thy table spread? And does thy cup with love o'erflow? Thither be all thy children led,

And let them all its sweetness know.

2 Hail, sacred feast, which Jesus makes!
Rich banquet of his flesh and blood!
Thrice happy he, who here partakes
That sacred stream, that heav'nly food!
3 Oh! let thy table honour'd be,
And furnish'd well with joyful guests;
And may each soul salvation see,
That here its sacred pledges tastes.

4 Let crowds approach, with hearts prepar'd,
With hearts inflam'd, let all attend;
Nor, when we leave our Father's board,
The pleasure or the profit end.

5 Revive thy dying churches, Lord,
And bid our drooping graces live;
And more that energy afford,
A Saviour's blood alone can give.

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Acts xvi, 9. (P. M.)

1 FROM Greenland's icy mountains,
From India's coral strand;
Where Afric's sunny fountains
Roll down their golden sand:

From many an ancient river,
From many a palmy plain,

They call us to deliver

Their land from error's chain.

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