The turtle breathes forth her soft moan,
The lark mounts and warbles away.
2 Shall every creature around
Their voices in concert unite,
And I, the most favored, be found
In praising to take less delight?
3 Awake, then, my harp, and my lute!
Sweet organs your notes softly swell!
No longer my lips shall be mute,
The Saviour's high praises to tell.
4 His love in my heart shed abroad,
My graces shall bloom as the spring,
This temple, his spirit's abode;
My joy as my duty to sing.
1 LORD, while for all mankind we pray,
Of every clime and coast,
O, hear us for our native land,
The land we love the most.
2 O, guard our shores from every foe,
With peace our borders bless,
With prosperous times our cities crown,
Our fields with plenteousness.
3 Unite us in the sacred love
Of knowledge, truth, and thee;
And let our hills and valleys shout
The songs of liberty.
4 Here may religion pure and mild
Smile on our Sabbath hours;
And piety and virtue bless
The home of us and ours.
5 Lord of the nations, thus to thee
Our country we commend ;
Be thou her refuge and her trust,
Her everlasting friend.
God acknowledged in National Blessings.
1 GREAT God of nations, now to thee
Our hymn of gratitude we raise;
With humble heart and bending knee,
We offer thee our song of praise.
2 Thy name we bless, Almighty God,
For all the kindness thou hast shown
To this fair land the pilgrims trod, —
This land we fondly call our own.
3 Here Freedom spreads her banner wide,
And casts her soft and hallowed ray;
Here thou our fathers' steps didst guide
In safety through their dangerous way.
4 We praise thee that the gospel's light
Through all our land its radiance sheds,
Dispels the shades of error's night,
And heavenly blessings round us spreads.
5 Great God, preserve us in thy fear;
In dangers still our guardian be;
O, spread thy truth's bright precepts here;
Let all the people worship thee.
Remembrance of our Fathers.
1 IN pleasant lands have fallen the lines That bound our goodly heritage, And safe beneath our sheltering vines
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, -
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.
1 FROM stern oppression's haughty land
The pilgrims crossed the boisterous wave,
A patient, firm, and patriot band;
The God of battles made them brave :
O, make us ever blest and free,
A land of peace and liberty.
2 To thee, their steadfast, suppliant eyes
Were raised 'mid war and dread alarm;
O God of battles, from the skies
Thy mercy sent the conquering arm;
Still guard our freedom, rights, and fame,
While we exalt thy holy name.
3 Here we, the children of the free,
Now gladly chant the joyful song,
And own our boundless debt to thee,
Which time shall gladly bear along.
Be this our universal cry,
For God, for home, for liberty.
1 TO Him from whom our blessings flow,
Who all our wants supplies,
This day the choral song and vow
From grateful hearts shall rise.
2 'T was he who led the pilgrim band
Across the stormy sea;
'T was he who stayed the tyrant's hand, And set our country free,
3 When shivering on a strand unknown,
In sickness and distress,
Our fathers looked to God alone,
To save, protect, and bless.
4 Be thou our nation's strength and shield,
In manhood as in youth;
Thine arm for our protection wield,
And guide us by thy truth.
6 & 4s. M.
National Hymn.
1 MY country, 't is of thee,
Sweet land of liberty,
Of thee I sing;
Land where my fathers died,
Land of the pilgrim's pride,
From every mountain side
Let freedom ring.
2 My native country, thee-
Land of the noble, free -
Thy name I love;
I love thy rocks and rills,
Thy woods and templed hills;
My heart with rapture thrills
Like that above.
3 Let music swell the breeze,
And ring from all the trees
Sweet freedom's song;
Let mortal tongues awake;
Let all that breathe partake;
Let rocks their silence break,
The sound prolong.
4 Our fathers' God, to thee,
Author of liberty,
To thee we sing :
Long may our land be bright
With freedom's holy light;
Protect us by thy might,
Great God, our King.
1 O THOU, whose presence went before
Our fathers in their weary way,
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