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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!”

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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.

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.

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.

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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.
8 1 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.

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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 prepai’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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