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THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 

OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


GIFT  OF 


DR.  AND  MRS.  ELMER  BELT 


AI^VWIaXaI 


mimm 


^r\'r\rr\ 


A  A  n  ^,  u:.>*" 


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DONATION   BY 


DR.  AND  ]v{rS.  ELMER   BELT 


^''^•^O.r\AAi 


^m&h^^^. 


\/ery: 


(TIk  l^ooli  of  llratsc 


LON'UO.N"  :    K.     CLaY,  son,   and    TAYLOR,    1'KlNTfc.RS, 
BREAD   STREET    HILL. 


T^vctityiiintli   Thousa)id. 


THl' 


BOOK   OF   PRAISE 

FRO^[  THE  r.EST  ENGLLSH  HYMN  \VRITERS 

SELECTED    AND    ARRANGED    BY 

ROUND  ELL    PALMER 


MAC  MILL  AN    AND     CO. 

J'onbon  ani)  Camlnibcic, 

1866 


PREFACE. 


US 

A 


The  present  is  an  attempt,  not  to  add  to  the 
great  and  constantly  increasing  multitude  of 
hymn-books  intended  for  congregational  use  ; 
but  to  present,  under  a  convenient  arrangement, 
a  collection  of  such  examples  of  a  copious 
and  interesting  branch  of  popular  literature,  as, 
after  a  study  of  the  subject  which  for  several 
years  has  occupied  part  of  his  leisure  hours, 
have  seemed  to  the  Editor  most  worthy  o 
being  separated  from  the  mass  to  which  they 
belong. 

A  good  hymn  should  have  simphcity,  fresh- 
ness, and  reality  of  feeling;  a  consistent  ele- 
vation of  tone,  and  a  rhythm  easy  and  harmo- 
nious, but  not  jingling  or  trivial.  Its  language 
may  be  homely ;  but  should  not  be  slovenly  or 
mean.  Affectation  or  visible  artifice  is  worse 
than  excess  of  homeliness  :  a  hymn  is  easily 
spoiled  by  a  single  falsetto  note.     Nor  will  the 


ii  Preface. 

most  exemplary  somidness  of  doctrine  atone 
for  doggrel,  or  redeem  from  failure  a  prosaic 
didactic  style. 

There  are  many  hymns  in  the  English  lan- 
guage, which  will  bear  the  test  of  these  rules, 
as  well,  perhaps,  as  those  of  Germany,  or  of 
the  ancient  Latin  Church.  But  they  are  apt 
to  be  presented  in  such  company,  or  in  such 
a  manner,  as  to  detract  much  from  their  effect. 
From  the  operation  of  causes  connected  with 
the  nature  of  such  compositions,  it  happens, 
that  writers,  who  do  not  in  general  rise  above 
mediocrity,  sometimes  produce  beautiful  hymns; 
while,  on  the  other  hand,  there  is  far  more  dross 
than  gold  in  the  works  of  all  voluminous  hymn- 
writers.  Nor  are  the  principles,  on  which 
popular  collections  of  hymns  for  congregational 
use  are  formed,  favourable  to  that  kind  of  se- 
lection, which  is  here  attempted.  In  such 
collections,  as  a  general  rule,  the  taste  of  the 
compilers  is  regulated  by  their  theology  :  they 
seem  to  be  very  easily  satisfied  with  all  that 
they  think  orthodox  and  edifying,  or  liturgically 
appropriate  ;  they  do  not  submit  hymns,  derived 
from  sources  which  they  respect,  to  any  free  or 
independent  criticism ;  and,  on  the  other  hand, 
they  reject,  with  morbid  fastidiousness,  every 
sentiment  and  expression  in  which  they  think 


Preface.  iii 

they  detect  the  traces  of  opinions  which  they 
disHke.  It  is  also  their  frequent  habit  to  cut 
down  the  compositions  which  they  approve, 
with  little  discrimination  or  judgment,  to  such 
arbitrary  dimensions,  as  suit  their  ideas  of  the 
time  which  ought  to  be  occupied,  during  Divine 
service,  by  congregational  singing. 

The  same  regard  to  motives  of  (real,  or 
supposed,)  convenience  and  edification  has  in- 
troduced a  system  of  tampering  with  the  text 
of  hymns,  which  has  now  grown  into  so  great 
an  abuse,  that  to  meet  with  any  author's  genuine 
text,  in  a  book  of  this  kind,  is  quite  the  exception. 
Censurable  as  this  practice  is,  in  a  literary  point 
of  view,  it  must  be  confessed  that  those  who 
adopt  it  may  plead,  in  their  excuse,  the  examples 
of  many  of  the  writers,  whose  compositions  they 
alter.  The  Wesleys  altered  the  compositions  of 
George  Herbert,  Sandys,  Austin,  and  Watts. 
Toplady,  Madan,  and  others,  altered  some  of 
Charles  Wesley's  hymns,  much  to  his  brother 
John's  discontent,  as  he  testifies  in  the  preface 
to  his  Hynin-Book  for  Methodists.  Toplady's 
own  hymns,  even  the  "  Rock  of  Ages,"  have 
not  escaped  similar  treatment.  James  Mont- 
gomery complains  much,  in  the  preface  to  the 
edition  of  his  collected  hymns  published  in 
1853,  of  his  share  in  this  peculiar  cross  of 
b  2 


iv  Preface. 

hymn-writers,  as  he  calls  it.  But  he  had  him- 
self, about  tliirty  years  before,  altered  the  works 
of  other  men,  in  his  Christiaii  Psalmist.  Bishop 
Heber,  scholar  as  he  was,  and  editor  of  Jeremy 
Taylor's  works,  silently  altered  Taylor's  Advent 
Hymn  in  his  own  hymn-book ;  and  the  hymns 
of  Heber  himself,  and  of  writers  still  living, 
such  as  Keble,  Milman,  Alford,  and  Neale,  are 
met  with  eveiy  day  in  a  variety  of  forms,  which 
their  authors  would  hardly  recognize.  Perhaps, 
vrhen  the  masters  of  the  art  have  taken  such 
liberties,  it  may  be  explained  on  the  same 
principle  as  that  on  which  musicians,  and  par- 
ticularly the  composers  of  anthems,  produce 
variations  from,  and  improvements  upon,  the 
works  of  their  predecessors  :  and,  indeed,  some 
such  variations  of  hymns  are  sufficiently  good 
to  take  rank  as  new  compositions ;  better  than 
those  by  which  they  v>^ere  suggested.  But  this 
is  a  rare  felicity;  and  the  result  is  vridely  dif- 
ferent, when  the  work  of  alteration  is  under- 
taken by  incompetent  hands. 

In  the  present  volume,  while  the  Editor  has 
not  thought  it  necessary  to  give  the  whole  of 
every  composition,  from  which  a  selection  of 
parts  might,  in  his  judgment,  more  advan- 
tageously be  made,  it  has  been  his  desire  and 
aim  to  adhere  strictly,  in  all  cases  in  which  it 


P7'eface.  v 

could  be  ascertained,  to  the  genuine  uncorrupted 
text  of  the  authors  themselves.  Great  pains 
have  been  taken  to  trace  out  and  ascertain  the 
true  authorship  of  such  hymns,  as  were  either 
without  names  of  authors,  or  attributed  to 
authors  by  whom  they  were  not  really  written^ 
in  the  books  from  which  the  Editor  in  the  first 
instance  took  them.  This  was  a  task,  which  he 
could  himself  scarcely  have  undertaken,  and  in 
which  he  certainly  could  not  have  hoped  to 
succeed,  but  for  the  assistance  of  Mr.  Sedgwick, 
of  No.  8 1,  Sun  Street,  Bishopsgate ;  who  has 
bestowed  much  time  and  attention  on  this 
branch  of  literature,  and  has  attained  to  a 
knowledge  of  it,  probably  not  possessed  h^' 
any  other  Englishman.  By  his  valuable  help, 
the  authorship  of  all  but  twelve  o/  the  com- 
positions here  collected  has  been  traced,  and 
the  text  collated  with  the  original  works  of 
the  authors.  Thus  aided,  the  Editor  has  been 
enabled,  before  finally  completing  his  selection, 
to  go  through  all,  or  almost  all,  the  original 
publications  containing  hymns  or  sacred  poetry 
of  (amongst  others),  George  Herbert,  Sandys, 
Wither,  Quarles,  Crashaw,  John  Austin,  Ba-xter;, 
Bishop  Taylor,  Bishop  Patrick,  Bishop  Ken, 
John  Mason,  Thomas  Shepherd,  Samuel  Cross- 
man,  and  Lancelot  Addison  (of  the  seventeenth 
century);  Joseph  Addison,  Watts,  Simon  Browne, 


vi  Pi'eface. 

Ralph  Erskine,  Doddridge,  Hammond,  John 
and  Charles  Wesley,  Cennick,  Seagrave,  Grigg, 
Be«ridge,  Olivers,  William  Williams,  Toplady, 
Cowper,  John  Newton,  Anne  Steele,  Hart, 
Gibbons,  Michael  Bruce,  Logan,  Byrom,  Skelton, 
Swain,  Daniel  Turner,  Ryland,  Stennett,  ^eed- 
ham,  Beddome,  Medley,  Henry  Moore,  and 
Mrs.  Barbauld  (of  the  eighteenth  century) ; 
Gisborne,  Kirke  White,  Anne  Flowerdew, 
Drennan,  Bowdler,  Kelly,  James  Montgomery, 
Sir  Robert  Grant,  Bishop  Heber,  Bishop  Mant, 
Bathurst,  Lyte,  Edmeston,  Bernard  Barton, 
Grinfield,  and  Chandler  (of  the  present  cen- 
tury); besides  other  writers,  still  living,  whom 
it  is  unnecessary  to  name ;  and  many  mis- 
cellaneous collections,  old  and  modern.  Of 
the  names  thus  enumerated,  several  are  not 
represented  at  all  in  this  collection ;  as  the 
Editor  did  not  find  anything  in  their  works 
which  appeared  to  him  to  be  suitable  for  his 
purpose,  and  equal  to  the  general  standard  of 
merit,  which  he  desired  to  maintain.  But  of 
the  great  majority,  as  well  as  of  some  other 
writers  whose  works  are  not  accessible  in  a 
collected  form,  specimens  more  or  less  numerous 
will  be  found.  A  few  examples  of  successful 
variations  or  centoes  (in  all  instances  but  tv>^o, 
by  known  authors)  from  earlier  compositions, 
have  also  been  included ;   together  with  three 


Preface.  vii 

original  hymns,  out  of  several  which  have  been 
communicated  to  the  Editor,  by  the  kindness 
of  the  authors,  in  manuscript.  Upon  the  works 
of  living  authors  generally,  the  Editor  has  not 
thought  it  expedient  to  draw  with  the  same 
freedom,  as  upon  those  of  earlier  generations ; 
although  he  has  not  deemed  it  necessary  to 
forego  altogether  the  advantage  of  including  in 
his  book  specimens  of  those  works,  especially 
of  such  of  them  as  have  obtained  general 
currency  in  popular  hymn-books. 

The  arrangement  which  has  been  adopted  in 
this  volume  (and  upon  which  some  care  has  been 
bestowed),  may  be  explained  in  a  few  words. 
The  Catholic  Creeds,  and  the  Lord's  Prayer, 
presenting  in  their  simplest  forms,  and  in  their 
natural  order,  all  the  fundamental  points  of 
Christianity,  both  objective  and  subjective, 
appeared  to  the  Editor  to  be  the  best  basis  for 
a  classification  of  those  hymns  of  faith  and 
devotion,  which  express  feelings  at  all  times 
appropriate  to  a  Christian  profession.  These 
two  groups  of  hymns  constitute  Parts  I.  and  II. 
of  the  Collection.  The  Third  Part  consists  of 
hymns  distinguished  chiefly  from  those  of  the 
two  former  classes,  by  having  a  special  refer- 
ence to  particular  times  and  occasions.  In  the 
Fourth  Part  will  be  found  distributed,  under 


viii  Preface. 

suitable  heads,  compositions  of  a  kind  inter- 
mediate between  hymns  for  general  use  and 
private  meditations ;  which  (although  the  dis- 
tinction is  better  marked  in  some  cases  than 
in  others)  seem  to  breathe,  upon  the  whole,  the 
accents  of  particular,  rather  than  general,  con- 
sciousness and  experience.  On  this  account, they 
are,  for  the  most  part,  out  of  place  in  ordinary 
hymn-books,  and  unfit  to  be  sung  by  public 
congregations ;  but  their  tone  is  not  the  less 
spiritual  and  real ;  and  those  who  know  any- 
thing of  their  own  wants,  and  of  the  power  of 
religion,  can  scarcely  fail  to  be  impressed  with 
their  beauty  and  truth. 

The  Editor  is  not  sure,  whether  it  may  not 
appear  to  some  to  be  an  objection  to  this 
classification,  that,  by  bringing  closely  to- 
gether a  number  of  hymns  on  one  subject,  a 
sense  of  repetition  and  monotony  is  created, 
which  might  have  been  avoided  by  a  different 
method.  The  repetition,  however,  which  will 
undoubtedly  be  met  with  in  the  works,  not  only 
of  different,  but  even  of  the  same  hymn-writers, 
is  of  a  kind  appropriate  to  such  compositions ; 
and,  therefore,  it  ought  not  to  be  withdrawn 
from  observation.  All  lovers  of  Art  are  familiar 
with  the  habitual  repetition  of  Holy  Families, 
and  other  sacred  subjects,  by  the  early  painters, 


Preface.  ix 

down  to  and  including  RafFaelle.  The  constant 
enthusiastic  contemplation  of  a  few  subjects, 
dear  to  the  universal  heart  of  Christendom,  and 
embodying  the  highest  conceptions  of  Divme 
purity  and  beauty,  produced  a  simplicity,  refine- 
ment, and  spirituality  of  style,  which  never  tires, 
notwithstanding  its  limited  range.  These  are 
the  hymns  of  painters,  addressed  to  the  sense  of 
sight.  A  similar  law  has  always  governed,  and 
to  this  day  governs  Christian  Hymnody;  bind- 
ing together  by  the  force  of  a  central  attraction, 
more  powerful  than  all  causes  of  difterence, 
times  ancient  and  modern,  nations  of  various 
race  and  language.  Churchmen  and  Noncon- 
formists, Churches  reformed  and  unreformed. 
It  is  refreshing  to  turn  aside  from  the  divisions 
of  the  Christian  world,  and  to  rest  for  a  little 
time  in  the  sense  of  tliat  inward  unity,  which, 
after  all,  subsists  among  all  good  Christians,  and 
which  (is  it  too  much  to  hope^)  may  perhaps 
receive  some  illustration,  even  from  a  volume 
like  this. 

Throughout  the  volume,  the  names  of  the 
authors,  when  known,  are  aftixed  to  their  hymns. 
When  more  authors  than  one  have  been  con- 
cerned in  the  composition  of  a  hymn,  or  when 
it  is  a  cento  or  variation  by  one  person  from 
the  work   of  another,  the   names   of  all   the 


X  Preface, 

writers  concerned  (so  far  as  known)  are  given. 
The  dates  added  to  the  names  signify,  when 
without  brackets,  the  time  at  which  each  hymn 
is  beheved  to  have  been  first  composed  or 
published  :  when  within  brackets,  the  date  of 
the  edition  or  copy,  from  which  the  text  of  a 
hymn  (known  or  believed  to  have  been  published 
at  an  earlier  date,  not  correctly  ascertained)  has 
been  taken  by  the  Editor.  The  text  has  been 
verified  by  collation  with  the  original  work  of 
the  author,  or  an  authentic  copy,  in  every  case, 
except  those  specified  in  the  notes  at  the  end 
of  the  volume.  The  notes  also  show  in  what 
cases  the  text  consists  of  any  selected  parts  or 
part,  less  than  the  whole,  of  an  original  work. 
When  a  double  date  is  appended  to  a  single 
name,  it  signifies  that  the  work,  published  at 
the  earlier  date,  was  afterwards  altered  by  the 
author  himself,  the  text  of  the  later  date  being 
that  adopted. 

The  Editor  cannot  conclude  without  returning 
his  thanks  to  many  friends,  and  to  some  not 
personally  known  to  him,  for  the  kind  assistance, 
and  offers  of  assistance,  which  he  has  received 
from  them,  while  this  work  was  in  progress. 
His  obligations  to  some  of  them  will  be  found 
specially  acknowledged  in  the  notes.  He  has 
also  to  thank  the  owners  of  copyrights  in  many 


Preface,  xi 

of  the  more  modern  hymns,  which  are  included 
in  the  vohmie,  for  the  consent  which  they  have, 
in  all  cases  wJien  applied  to,  kindly  given  to 
the  use  of  their  works.  And  if,  in  any  instances, 
he  has,  either  through  ignorance  of  the  existence 
of  a  copyright,  or  for  want  of  means  of  com- 
munication, made  use  of  any  work,  in  respect 
of  which  a  similar  permission  ought  to  have 
been  obtained,  without  actually  obtaining  it, 
he  ventures  to  hope  that  the  oversight  may  be 
excused,  and  the  same  liberality  extended  to 
him,  as  if  a  request  for  permission  had  been 
previously  made. 


In  the  present  edition  thirty-four  Hymns  are 
added,  which  did  not  appear  in  the  "  Book  of 
Praise,"  as  originally  published.  Some  of  these 
came  to  the  Editor's  knowledge  too  late  to  be 
included,  and  some  were  undesignedly  omitted,  in 
the  first  edition.  Others,  which  were  then  inten- 
tionally omitted,  are  now  added,  in  deference  to  the 
judgment  of  critics  and  friends,  whose  estimate  of 
their  merit  is  higher  than  the  Editor's  own. 

The  absence,  in  this  volume,  of  any  selection  from 
the  Old  or  New  Version  of  the  Psalms,  having  been 
the  subject  of  some  remark,  the  Editor  wishes  to 
observe,  that  such  a  selection  would  have  been 
foreign  to  his  design.  The  "Psalms"  (so  called) 
of  Watts,  Lytc,  Montgomery,  and  others,  and  the 


xii  Prcjace. 

Scotch  "  Paraphrases,"  which  are  included  in  the 
"  Book  of  Praise,"  are  compositions,  into  which, 
although  founded  (as  many  of  the  best  Hymns  in 
all  languages  are)  upon  particular  passages  of 
Scripture,  other  elements,  for  the  most  part,  largely 
enter.  But  the  i\uthorized  Versions  of  the  Psalms 
profess  to  be,  in  the  strict  sense  of  the  words, 
metrical  renderings  of  Holy  Scripture.  As  such, 
whatever  degree  of  merit  they  may  possess,  they 
differ  in  kind  from  ordinary  Hymns :  and,  being 
universally  known,  and  accessible  in  every  Prayer- 
Book,  it  did  not  seem  to  the  Editor  either  necessary 
or  appropriate  to  associate  any  of  them,  in  this 
place,  with  com.positions  of  a  different  class. 

With  respect  to  the  translations  from  Latin  and 
German  hymns,  which  are  included  in  this  collec- 
tion, it  also  seems  proper  to  explain,  that  the 
choice  has  not  been  made  with  any  reference  to 
the  merits  of  the  Latin  or  German  originals  ;  but 
solely  because  the  labours  of  the  translator  had, 
in  each  of  these  cases,  resulted  in  the  production 
(according  to  the  Editor's  judgment)  of  a  good 
English  hymn.  From  the  unavoidable  difficulties 
of  translation,  this  does  not  very  often  happen  ; 
and  the  excellence  or  popularity  of  the  original,  in 
in  its  own  language,  seems  to  be  no  reason  for  in- 
cluding, in  a  collection  of  this  kind,  an  unsuccessful 
attempt  to  reproduce  it,  or  even  an  attempt  which, 
if  partially  successful,  may,  nevertheless  be  wanting 
in  the  simplicity,  freedom,  and  ease,  of  a  genuine 
English  composition. 


CONTENTS. 


PART   THE    FIRST. 


HYMNS  ARRANGED  ACCORDING  TO  THE  SUEJFXTS  OF  THE  CREED. 


I.  The  Holj^  Trinity  .     . 
II.  Godthe  Creator     .     . 

III.  Christ  Incarnate    .     . 

IV.  Christ  Crucified     .     . 
V.  Clirist  Risen      .     .     . 

Christ  Ascended    .     . 
Christ's  Kingdom  and 

ment 

God  the  Holv  Ghost  .     . 
IX.  The  Holy  Catholic  Church 
X.  The  Communion  of  Saints 
XI.  The  Forgiveness  of  Sins 
XII.  Resurrection  and  Eternal  Li 


VI. 
VII. 


VIII. 


Ji 


HTMN 

PAGE 

I. 

to  VII. 

1 

VIII 

to  XXIX.       . 

XXX. 

to   XLVII.      . 

32 

XLVIII. 

to   LVII. 

5?i 

LVIII. 

to   LXIV. 

(il 

LXV. 

to   1.XXIII     . 

69 

LXXIV. 

to  XCII, 

83 

XCIII. 

to  CVII. 

104 

CVIII. 

to  CXXIX.    . 

120 

CXXX. 

to  CXLI. 

144 

CXLII. 

to   CXLVIII. 

155 

CXLIX. 

to   CLXVIII. 

162 

PART  THE   SECOND. 


HYMNS  ARRANGED   ACCORDING   TO   THE  SUBJECTS  OF   THE  LORD'S 
PKAYEIl. 


'*  Lord,  teach  us  to  pray"    .     . 

I.  "  Our   Father,    which  art    m\ 

heaven,  hallowed    be  Thy[ 

Name" j 

II.  "  Thy  kingdom  come"    .    .     . 

III.  "  Tliy  will  1)6  done  in  earth,'> 

as  it  is  in  heaven  "     ...  J 

IV.  "  Give  us  this  day  our  daily! 

bread" J 

V.   "  And   forgive    us    our   tres-'j 

passes,  as  we  forgive  themV 

that  trespass  against  us"    .J 

VI.  "  And  lead  us  not  into  temx>ta-'j 

tion:  but  deliver  us  from!- 

evil" j 

Vri.  '*  For  Thine  is  the  kingdom,") 
the  power,  and  the  glory,  > 
for  ever  and  ever.    Amen  ") 


CLXX 

to  CLXXIII. 

.      180 

.     186 

LXXIV. 

to   CLXXX.    . 

.     191 

.XXXI. 

to  CCIV.       . 

.    198 

CCV. 

to  CCXVIII. 

222 

ccxix.  to  CCXXVI. 


CCXXVII.    to  CCXLU. 


CCXLIIl.    to  CCXLV. 


234 


240 


253 


Contents. 


PART    THE   THIRD. 


HYMNS   FOR  NATURAL  AND   SACRED   SEASONS. 


I.  Day  and  Night ccxlvi.  to  cclxvi.  , 

II.  Seed  Time  and  Harvest  .     .    .  cclxvii.  to  cclxxiv 

III.  The  Old  and  New  Year   .    .     .  cclxxv.  to  cclxxx. 

IV.  Baptism  and  Childhood  .     .     .  cclxxxi.  to  ccxci.    , 
V.  Holy  Communion ccxcii.  to  ccxcviii 

VI.  Holy  Matrimony    .     .     .     .     .  ccxcix 

VII.  Tlie  Burial  of  the  Dead  .     .     .  ccc.  to  cccvi.     , 

VIII.  Churcli  Dedication     ....  cccv'ii.  to  cccix. 
IX.  The  Lord's  Day  ,         ....  cccx.  to  cccxxi. 


257 
286 
294 
299 
310 
317 
318 
323 
32(5 


PART    THE    FOURTH. 


SONGS  OF  THE  HEART. 

I.  The  Call.— "Rise;  He  calleth)  , 

thee."    (Mark  x.  49).     .     .}      cccxxii.  to  cccxxxtv.  .    341 
II.  The   Answer.—  "  I   will    arise,) 

and    go    to    my    Father."-    cccxxxv.  to  cccxliv.     .     355 

(Luke  XV.  18) ) 

III.  Faith.  -"  Looking  unto  Jesus, ") 

the  Author  and  Finisher  ofV        cccxLV.  to  cccli.     .     .     365 

our  Faith."    (Heb.  xii.  2;  .) 
IV.  Love. — "  If  ye  love  Me,  keep) 

my  commandments."  (John  >         ccclii.  to  ccclx.  .     .    375 

xiv.  15) ) 

V.  Hope.— "Set  your  affections  on) 

things  above;  not  on  things  [        cccLXi.  to  ccclxxvi.  .     387 

on  the  earth."    (Col.  iii.  2)  .J 
VI.  Joy.—"  In  whom,  though  now^ 

ye  see  Him  not,  yet  believ-  | 

iug,    ye    rejoice    with  joy  )■  c(;clxxvii.  to  ccclxxxvi.    404 

unspeakable,    and    full    of  I 

glory."    (1  Pet.  i.  8)  .     .     .) 
VII.  Discipline.— "Whom  the  Lord) 

loveth,     He     chasteneth."loccLxxxvii.  to  cccxcix.    .    414 

(Heb  xii.  6) ) 

VIII.  Patience.— "Be  patient,  there-) 

fore,     brethren,    unto    the  I  ,  .„ . 

coming     of     the     Lord."  ^'"'^'-  *«  ccccxii.      .    426 

(James  v.  7j / 

ADDITIONAL  HYMNS 419 

NOTES 487 

LIST  OF  AUTHORS 501 

INDEX  OF  FIRST  LINES 506 


PART  I. 

HYMNS  ARRANGED  ACCORDING  TO  THE 
SUBJECTS  OF  THE  CREED. 


^  fi00ll  xrf  "^xmt 


PART  THE   FIRST. 
I. 

THE  HOLY  TRINITY. 

TAe  Catholic  Faith  is  this .-  that  ive  worship  one  God  in 
Trinity,  and  Trinity  in  Unity." 


Holy,  holy,  holy.  Lord  God  Almighty  ! 

Early  in  the  morning  our  song  shall  rise  to  Thee ; 
Holy,  holy,  holy  !  Merciful  and  Mighty  ! 

God  in  Three  Persons,  blessed  Trinity  ! 

Holy,  holy,  holy  !  all  the  saints  adore  Thee, 

Casting  down  their  golden  crowns  around  the 
glassy  sea, 

Cherubim  and  seraphim  falling  down  before  Thee, 
Which  wert,  and  art,  and  evermore  shalt  be. 

Holy,  holy,  holy  !  though  the  darkness  hide  Thee, 
Though  the  eye  of  sinful  man  Thy  glory  may 
not  see. 

Only  Thou  art  holy,  there  is  none  beside  Thee, 
Perfect  in  power,  in  love  and  purity. 

Holy,  holy,  holy.  Lord  God  Almighty  ! 
All  Thy  works  shall  praise  Thy  Name  in  earth 
and  sky  and  sea  ; 
Holy,  holy,  holy  !  Merciful  and  Mighty  ! 
God  in  Three  Persons,  blessed  Trinity  ! 

'     Bisliop  Reginald  Heber.  1827. 


The  Book  of  Praise, 

II. 
Round  the  Lord  in  glory  seated 

Cherubim  and  seraphim 
Fill'd  His  temple,  and  repeated 

Each  to  each  th'  alternate  hymn. 

"  Lord,  Thy  glory  fills  the  heaven, 
"  Earth  is  with  its  fulness  stor'd  ; 

"  Unto  Thee  be  glory  given, 
"  Holy,  holy,  holy  Lord!" 

Heaven  is  still  with  glory  ringing, 

Earth  takes  up  the  angels'  cry, 
"  Holy,  holy,  holy,"  singing, 

"  Lord  of  hosts,  the  Lord  most  High  !" 

With  His  seraph  train  before  Him, 

With  His  holy  Church  below, 
Thus  conspire  we  to  adore  Him, 

Bid  we  thus  our  anthem  flow  : 

'•  Lord,  Thy  glory  fills  the  heaven, 
"  Earth  is  with  its  fulness  stor'd  ; 

"  Unto  Thee  be  glory  given, 
"Holy,  holy,  holy  Lord!" 

Bishop  Richard  Mant  1 8  \i 

III. 

Holy,  holy,  holy,  Lordj 

God  of  hosts  !  When  heaven  and  earth 
Out  of  darkness,  at  Thy  word. 

Issued  into  glorious  birth, 
All  Thy  works  before  Thee  stood, 
And  Thine  eye  beheld  them  good, 
While  they  sang,  with  one  accord, 
Hoi)-,  holy,  holy,  Lord  ! 


The  Holy  Trinity.  3 

Holy,  holy,  holy  !  Thee, 

One  Jehovah  evermore, 
Father,  Son,  and  Spirit,  we, 

Dust  and  ashes,  would  adore  : 
Lightly  by  the  world  esteemed, 
From  that  world  by  Thee  redeemed, 
Sing  we  here,  with  glad  accord, 
Holy,  holy,  holy  Lord  ! 

Holy,  holy,  holy  !     All 

Heaven's  triumphant  choir  shall  sing, 
When  the  ransomed  nations  fall 

At  the  footstool  of  their  King  : 
Then  shall  saints  and  seraphim, 
Hearts  and  voices,  swell  one  hymn, 
Round  the  Throne  w^ith  full  accord, 
Lloly,  holy,  holy,  Lord  ! 

James  Mon  tgom  cry,  1853, 

IV. 

Te  Dewn  Lmidanuis. 

God  eternal.  Lord  of  all, 

Lowly  at  Thy  feet  we  fall. 

All  the  earth  doth  worship  Thee  ; 

We  amidst  the  throng  would  be.  , 

All  the  holy  angels  cry, 
Hail,  thrice  holy,  God  most  High 
Lord  of  all  flie  heavenly  powers, 
Be  the  same  loud  anthem  ours. 

Glorified  apostles  raise 
Night  and  day  continual  praise  t 
Hast  Thou  not  a  mission  too 
For  Thy  children  here  to  do  ' 

B  2 


The  Book  of  Praise. 

With  Thy  prophets'  goodly  line 
We  in  mystic  bond  combine  ; 
For  Thou  hast  to  babes  revealed 
Things  that  to  the  wise  were  sealed. 

Martyrs,  in  a  noble  host, 
Of  Thy  cross  are  heard  to  boast  ; 
Since  so  bright  the  crown  they  wear. 
Early  we  Thy  cross  would  bear. 

All  Thy  Church  in  heaven  and  earth, 
Jesus  !  hail  Thy  spotless  birth  ; 
Own  the  God,  who  all  has  made  ; 
And  the  Spirit's  soothing  aid. 

Offspring  of  a  Virgin's  womb  ; 
Slain,  and  Victor  o'er  the  tomb  ; 
Seated  on  the  Judgment-throne, 
Number  us  among  Thine  own  ! 

Day  by  day  we  magnify  Thee, 
And  would  eveiTnore  be  nigh  Thee  : 
Keep  us  from  the  Tempter's  snare ; 
Spare  Thy  people,  Jesu,  spare  ! 

James  Elwin  Millard.  1848. 


Te  Deiim  Lauda^ntcs. 

Thee  w-e  adore,  eternal  L^rd  ! 
We  praise  Thy  Name  with  one  accord  ; 
Thy  saints,  who  here  Thy  goodness  see, 
Through  all  the  world  do  worship  Thee. 

To  Thee  aloud  all  angels  cry, 

And  ceaseless  raise  their  songs  on  high, 


The  Holy  Trinity.  5 

Both  cherubin  and  seraphin, 

The  heavens  and  all  the  powers  therein. 

The  Apostles  join  the  glorious  throng  ; 
The  Prophets  swell  the  immortal  song  ; 
The  Martyrs'  noble  army  raise 
Eternal  anthems  to  Thy  praise. 

Thee,  Holy,  holy,  holy  King  ! 
Thee,  the  Lord  God  of  hosts,  they  sing : 
Thus  earth  below,  and  heaven  above, 
Resound  Thy  glory  and  Thy  love. 

Thomas  Cotterill.  [18 10.] 

VI. 

I  give  immortal  praise 

To  God  the  Father's  love, 
For  all  my  comforts  here 
And  better  hopes  above  ; 
He  sent  His  own  eternal  Son 
To  die  for  sins  that  man  had  done. 

To  God  the  Son  belongs 

Immortal  glory  too, 
Who  bought  us  with  His  blood 
From  everlasting  woe  ; 
And  now  He  lives,  and  now  He  reigns, 
And  sees  the  fruit  of  all  His  pains. 

To  God  the  Spirit's  name 
Immortal  worship  give. 
Whose  new-creating  power 
Makes  the  dead  sinner  live  ; 
His  work  completes  the  great  design. 
And  fills  the  soul  with  joy  divine. 


The  Book  of  Praise. 

Almighty  God,  to  Thee 

Be  endless  honours  done  ; 
The  undivided  Three, 
And  the  mysterious  One  ! 
Where  reason  fails  with  all  her  powers, 
There  faith  prevails,  and  love  adores. 

Isaac  Watts.  1709. 

VII. 

O  King  of  kings,  before  whose  throne 

The  angels  bow,  no  gift  can  we 
Present  that  is  indeed  our  own, 

Since  heaven  and  earth  belong  to  Thee  : 
Yet  this  our  souls  through  grace  impart, 
The  offering  of  a  thankful  heart. 

O  Jesu,  set  at  God's  right  hand, 

With  Thine  eternal  Father  plead 
For  all  Thy  loyal-hearted  band, 

Who  still  on  earth  Thy  succour  need  ; 
For  them  in  weakness  strength  provide, 
And  through  the  world  their  footsteps  guide, 

O  Holy  Spirit,  Fount  of  breath, 

Whose  comforts  never  fail  nor  fade, 
Vouchsafe  the  life  that  knows  no  death, 

Vouchsafe  the  light  that  knows  no  shade  ; 
And  grant,  that  we  through  all  our  days 
May  share  Thy  gifts,  and  sing  Thy  praise. 

Variation  by  Thomas  Darli7ig.  1 85  7. 
From  John  Quarles.  1654. 


God  the  Creator.  7 

II. 

GOD   THE    CREATOR. 

''/  believe  iii  one  God,  (lie  Father  Ahnighty,  Maker  of 
heaven  and  earth,  and  of  all  things  visible  and 
invisible. " 

VIII. 

Psalm  C. 

Before  Jehovah's  awful  throne, 
Ye  nations,  bow  with  sacred  joy  ; 

Know  that  the  Lord  is  God  alone, 
He  can  create,  and  He  destroy. 

His  sov'reign  power,  without  our  aid, 
Made  us  of  clay,  and  formed  us  men  ; 

And  when  like  wandering  sheep  we  stray' d, 
He  brought  us  to  His  fold  again. 

We'll  crowd  Thy  gates  with  thankful  songs, 
High  as  the  heavens  our  voices  raise  ; 

And  earth,  with  her  ten  thousand  tongues, 
Shall  fill  Thy  courts  with  sounding  praise. 

Wide  as  the  world  is  Thy  command, 

Vast  as  eternity  Thy  love  ; 
Firm  as  a  rock  Thy  truth  must  stand. 
When  rolling  years  shall  cease  to  move. 
Isaac  Watts.  1719. 
Varied  by  Charles  Wesley.  1741. 


The  Book  of  Praise. 

IX. 

Psalm  XCIII. 

The  Lord  Jehovah  reigns 

And  royal  state  maintains, 
His  head  with  awful  glories  crown'd  ; 

Arrayed  in  robes  of  light, 

Begirt  with  sovereign  might, 
And  rays  of  majesty  around. 

Upheld  by  Thy  commands, 

The  world  securely  stands, 
And  skies  and  stars  obey  Thy  word : 

Thy  throne  was  fixed' on  high 

Before  the  starry  sky  : 
Eternal  is  Thy  kingdom.  Lord. 

In  vain  the  noisy  crowd, 

Like  billows  fierce  and  loud, 
Against  Thine  empire  rage  and  roar  : 

In, vain,  with  angry  spite. 

The  surly  nations  fight, 
And  dash  like  waves  against  the  shore. 

Let  floods  and  nations  rage. 

And  all  their  powers  engage  ; 
Let  swelling  tides  assault  the  sky : 

The  terrors  of  Thy  frown 

Shall  beat  their  madness  down  : 
Thy  throne  for  ever  stands  on  high. 

Thy  promises  are  true, 

Thy  grace  is  ever  new  ; 
There  fixed,  Thy  Church  shall  ne'er  remove  : 

Thy  saints  with  holy  fear 

Shall  in  Thy  courts  appear. 
And  sing  Thine  everlasting  love. 

Isaac  Watts.  1719. 


God  the  C7-eator. 

X. 

Let  all  the  world  rejoice, 

The  great  Jehovah  reigns  ; 
The  thunders  are  His  awful  voice  ; 

Our  life  His  will  ordains  ; 

The  glories  of  His  Name 
The  lightnings,  floods,  and  hail  proclaim. 

He  rules  by  sea  and  land, 

O'er  boundless  realms  He  sways  ; 
He  holds  the  oceans  in  His  hand. 

And  mighty  mountains  weighs  : 

Unequalled  and  alone 
In  majesty  He  fills  His  throne. 

The  universe  He  made 

By  His  prevailing  might ; 
The  earth's  foundations  He  hath  laid, 

And  scattered  ancient  night ; 

When  heaven,  and  earth,  and  sea^ 
Proclaimed  His  awful  majesty. 

When  the  bright  orb  of  day 

First  gleamed  with  ruddy  light. 
And  yonder  moon,  with  silver  ray, 

Marched  up  the  vault  of  night ; 

And  stars  bedecked  the  skies, 
That  seemed  creation's  thousand  eyes  ; 

And  earth's  fair  form  was  seen. 
With  flowers  and  blossoms  drest ; 

And  trees,  and  fields,  and  meadows  green, 
Adorned  her  youthful  breast. 
Hung  out  in  boundless  space, 

Amid  the  ocean's  cool  embrace  ; 


lo  TJie  Book  of  Praise. 

Glad  was  the  angel  throng 

To  see  His  might  prevail ; 
And  loud  they  sung  a  joyful  song 

This  universe  to  hail, 

While  yet  in  youth  it  stood  ; 
The  Maker,  too,  pronounced  it  good. 

But  this  fair  world  shall  die, 

The  creature  of  a  day  ; 
In  ashes  and  in  ruins  lie, 

Its  glory  passed  away: 

As  when  before  her  birth, 
Again  shall  be  this  mighty  earth. 

Soon  shall  the  day  be  o'er 

Of  yonder  brilliant  sun  ; 
And  he  shall  set  to  rise  no  more, 

His  race  of  glory  run  ; 

And  soon,  alas  !  all  soon 
Shall  fade  the  stars,  and  yon  pale  moon. 

But  ever  fix'd,  the  throne 

Of  the  Eternal  One 
Shall  stand,  when  all  creation's  gone, 

Unequalled  and  alone  ; 

New  worlds  to  make  at  will, 
And  His  own  wise  designs  fulfil. 

John  Hunt.  1853. 

XI. 

Psalm  CXV. 

Not  unto  us,  Almighty  Lord, 

But  to  Thyself  the  glory  be  \ 
Created  by  Thy  awful  word, 

We  only  live  to  honour  Thee. 


God  the  Creator.  1 1 

Where  is  their  God  ?  the  heathen  cry, 
And  bow  to  senseless  wood  and  stone  ; 

Our  God,  we  tell  them,  fills  the  sky, 
And  calls  ten  thousand  worlds  his  own. 

Vain  gods  !  vain  men  !  the  Lord  alone 
Is  Israel's  worship,  Israel's  friend  ; 

O  fear  His  power,  His  goodness  own. 
And  love  Him,  trust  Him,  to  the  end. 

Who  lean  on  Him,  from  strength  to  strength. 
From  light  to  light,  shall  onward  move, 

Till  through  the  grave  they  pass  at  length, 
To  sing  on  high  His  saving  love. 

Henry  Francis  Lytc.  1834. 


xir. 

Psalm  CXLVI. 

Happy  the  man,  whose  hopes  rely 
On  Israel's  God  ;  He  made  the  sky, 

And  earth  and  seas  Avith  all  their  train  ; 
His  truth  for  ever  stands  secure, 
He  saves  the  opprest,  He  feeds  the  poor  ; 

And  none  shall  find  his  promise  vain. 

The  Lord  hath  eyes  to  give  the  blind  ; 
The  Lord  supports  the  sinking  mind ; 

He  sends  the  labouring  conscience  peace  ; 
He  helps  the  stranger  in  distress, 
The  widow  and  the  fatherless, 

And  grants  the  prisoner  sweet  release. 

ril  praise  Him  while  He  lends  me  breath, 
And  when  my  voice  is  lost  in  death 


12  The  Book  of  Praise. 

Praise  shall  employ  my  nobler  powers  : 
My  days  of  praise  shall  ne'er  be  past, 
While  life  and  thought  and  being  last, 

Or  immortality  endures. 

Isaac  Watts.  1719. 

XIII. 

Psalm  XIX. 

The  spacious  firmament  on  high, 

With  all  the  blue  ethereal  sky. 

And  spangled  heavens,  a  shining  frame, 

Their  great  Original  proclaim. 

The  unwearied  sun,  from  day  to  day, 

Does  his  Creator's  power  display, 

And  publishes  to  every  land 

The  work  of  an  Almighty  hand. 

Soon  as  the  evening  shades  prevail, 
The  moon  takes  up  the  wondrous  tale, 
And  nightly  to  the  listening  earth 
Repeats  the  story  of  her  birth  ; 
Whilst  all  the  stars  that  round  her  bum, 
And  all  the  planets  in  their  turn, 
Confirm  the  tidings,  as  they  roll, 
And  spread  the  truth  from  pole  to  pole. 


Move  round  the  dark  terrestrial  ball  ; 
What,  though  no  real  voice  or  sound 
Amidst  their  radiant  orbs  be  found  ; 
In  reason's  ear  they  all  rejoice. 
And  utter  forth  a  glorious  voice, 
For  ever  singing,  as  they  shine, 
"  The  hand  that  made  us  is  Divine." 

Joseph  Addison.  1728. 


God  the  O'eator.  13 

XIV. 

There  is  a  book,  who  runs  may  read, 

Which  heavenly  truth  imparts. 
And  all  the  lore  its  scholars  need, 

Pure  eyes  and  Christian  hearts. 

The  works  of  God,  above,  below, 

Within  us  and  around. 
Are  pages  in  that  book,  to  show 

How  God  Himself  is  found. 

The  glorious  sky,  embracing  all, 

Is  like  the  Maker's  love, 
Wherewith  encompass'd,  great  and  small 

In  peace  and  order  move. 

The  moon  above,  the  Church  below, 

A  wondrous  race  they  run  ; 
But  all  their  radiance,  all  their  glow. 

Each  borrows  of  its  sun. 

The  Saviour  lends  the  light  and  heat 

That  crowns  His  holy  hill ; 
The  saints,  like  stars,  around  His  seat 

Perform  their  courses  still. 

The  saints  above  are'  stars  in  Heaven  ; 

What  are  the  saints  on  earth  i 
Like  trees  they  stand,  whom  God  has  given, 

Our  Eden's  happy  birth. 

Faith  is  their  fix'd  unswerving  root, 

Hope  their  unfading  flower  ; 
Fair  deeds  of  charity  their  fruit, 

The  glory  of  their  bower. 


14  The  Boo'c  of  Praise. 

The  dew  of  heaven  is  hke  Thy  grace  ; 

It  steals  in  silence  down  ; 
But,  where  it  lights,  the  favoured  place 

By  richest  fruits  is  known. 

One  name,  above  all  glorious  names, 

With  its  ten  thousand  tongues 
The  everlasting  sea  proclaims, 

Echoing  angelic  songs. 

The  raging  fire,  the  roaring  wind, 

Thy  boundless  power  display  : 
But  in  the  gentler  breeze  we  find 

Thy  Spirit's  viewless  way. 

Two  worlds  are  ours  :  'tis  only  sin 

Forbids  us  to  descry, 
The  mystic  heaven  and  earth  within, 

Plain  as  the  sea  and  sky. 

Thou  who  hast  given  me  eyes  to  see 

And  love  this  sight  so  fair, 
Give  me  a  heart  to  find  out  Thee, 

And  read  Thee  everywhere. 

John  Keble.   1827. 

XV. 

Psalm  LXV. 

On  God  the  race  of  man  depends, 
Far  as  the  earth's  remotest  ends. 
Where  the  Creator's  name  is  known 
By  nature's  feeble  light  alone. 

He  bids  the  noisy- tempests  cease  ; 
He  calms  the  raging  crowd  to  peace. 


God  the  O-eator.  15 

When  a  tumultuous  nation  raves 
Wild  as  the  winds,  and  loud  as  waves. 

Whole  kingdoms,  shaken  by  the  storm. 
He  settles  in  a  peaceful  form  ; 
Mountains,  establish'd  by  His  hand, 
Firm  on  their  old  foundations  stand. 

Behold  His  ensigns  sweep  the  sky  ; 
New  comets  blaze,  and  lightnings  fly  ! 
The  heathen  lands,  with  swift  surprise. 
From  the  bright  horrors  turn  their  eyes. 

At  His  command  the  morning  ray 
Smiles  in  the  east,  and  leads  the  day  ; 
He  guides  the  sun's  declining  wheels 
Over  the  tops  of  western  hills. 

Seasons  and  times  obey  His  voice  ; 
The  evening  and  the  morn  rejoice 
To  see  the  earth  made  soft  with  showers, 
Laden  with  fruit,  and  drest  in  flowers 

'Tis  from  His  watery  stores  on  high 
He  gives  the  thirsty  ground  supply  ; 
He  walks  upon  the  clouds,  and  thence 
Doth  His  enriching  drops  dispense. 

The  desert  grows  a  fruitful  field. 
Abundant  food  the  valleys  yield  ; 
The  valleys  shout  with  cheerful  voice, 
And  neighbouring  hills  repeat  their  joys. 

Thy  works  pronounce  Thy  power  divine  ; 
O'er  every  field  Thy  glories  shine  ; 
Through  every  month  thy  gifts  appear  ; 
Great  God  !  Thy  goodness  crowns  the  year  ! 

Isaac  Watts.  1719. 


1 6  The  Book  of  Praise. 


XVI. 

Thy  goodness,  Lord,  our  souls  confess, 

Thy  goodness  we  adore  ; 
A  spring,  whose  blessings  never  fail, 

A  sea  without  a  shore. 

Sun,  moon,  and  stars,  Thy  love  attest 

In  every  cheerful  ray  ; 
Love  draws  the  curtains  of  the  night. 

And  love  restores  the  day. 

Thy  bounty  every  season  crowns 

With  all  the  bliss  it  yields. 
With  joyful  clusters  bend  the  vines, 

With  harvests  wave  the  fields. 

But  chiefly  Thy  compassions,  Lord, 

Are  in  the  Gospel  seen  ; 
There,  like  the  Sun,  Thy  mercy  shines 

Without  a  cloud  between. 

Thomas  Gibbons.  1784. 


XVII. 

I  sing  th'  almighty  power  of  God, 
That  made  the  mountains  rise. 

That  spread  the  flowing  seas  abroad 
And  built  the  lofty  skies. 


i  sing  the  wisdom  that  ordain'd 

The  sun  to  rule  the  day  : 
The  moon  shines  full  at  His  command, 

And  all  the  stars  obey. 


God  the  Creator.  17 

I  sing  the  goodness  of  the  Lord 

That  filled  the  earth  with  food  \ 
He  formed  the  creatures  with  His  word,. 

And  then  pronounced  them  good. 

Lord,  how  Thy  wonders  are  display'd, 

Where'er  I  turn  my  eye  ; 
If  I  survey  the  ground  I  tread, 

Or  gaze  upon  the  sky  ! 

There's  not  a  plant  or  flower  below, 

But  makes  Thy  glories  known  ; 
And  clouds  arise,  and  tempests  blow, 

By  order  from  Thy  throne. 

Creatures,  as  numerous  as  they  be, 

Are  subject  to  Thy  care  ; 
There's  not  a  place  where  we  can  flee 

But  God  is  present  there. 

In  Heaven  He  shines  with  beams  of  love, 

With  wrath  in  hell  beneath  ; 
'Tis  on  His  earth  I  stand  or  move. 

And  'tis  His  air  I  breathe. 

His  hand  is  my  perpetual  guard  ; 

He  keeps  me  with  His  eye  : 
Why  should  I  then  forget  the  Lord, 

Who  is  for  ever  nigh  ? 

Isaac  Watts,  1720. 


The  Book  of  Praise. 


xviir. 

Ves,  God  is  good  ;  in  earth  and  sky, 

From  ocean-depths  and  spreading  wood, 

Ten  thousand  voices  seem  to  zry, 

"  God  made  us  all,  and  God  is  good." 

The  sun  that  keeps  his  trackless  way. 
And  downward  pours  his  golden  flood, 

Night's  sparkling  hosts,  all  seem  to  say 
In  accents  clear,  that  God  is  good. 

The  merry  birds  prolong  the  strain. 
Their  song  with  every  spring  renewed  ; 

And  balmy  air,  and  falling  rain, 
Each  softly  whisper,  "  God  is  good." 

I  hear  it  in  the  rushing  breeze  ; 

The  hills  that  have  for  ages  stood, 
The  echoing  sky  and  roaring  seas, 

All  swell  the  chorus,  "  God  is  good." 

Yes,  God  is  good,  all  Nature  says, 

By  God's  own  hand  with  speech  endued ; 

And  man,  in  louder  notes  of  praise, 
Should  sing  for  joy  that  God  is  good. 

For  all  Thy  gifts  we  bless  Thee,  Lord  ; 

But  chiefly  for  our  heavenly  food, 
Thy  pardoning  grace,  Thy  quick'ning  word  ; 

These  prompt  our  song,  that  God  is  good. 

J  oh  n  Hampdcji  Gu7'ncy.   1 83  8 — 1 85 1. 


God  the  Creator.  19 

XIX. 
Nil  laudibus  nostris  eges. 

Our  praise  Thou  need'st  not ;  but  Thy  love, 

Our  Father  and  our  Friend, 
Would  have  our  prayers  thus  soar  above, 

In  blessings  to  descend. 

Thy  secret  judgments'  depths  profound 

Still  sings  the  silent  night ; 
The  day  upon  his  golden  round 

Thy  pity  infinite. 

The  soul  lost  in  astonishment 

Would  speechless  wonder  fill ; 
But,  in  the  ravish'd  bosom  pent, 

Love  cannot  all  be  still. 

Feeble  and  faint,  she  fain  would  tell 

Of  our  great  Father's  love, 
Tempering  the  ills  that  with  us  d^vell, 

And  pledging  good  above. 

Thither  would  our  best  thoughts  aspire. 

But  chains  on  us  abide  ; 
O  quicken  Thou  our  faint  desire. 

And  to  Thy  presence  guide  ! 

Isaac  Williams.  1839. 

XX. 

Let  all  the  world  in  every  corner  sing 
My  God  and  King  I 
The  heavens  are  not  too  high  ; 
His  praise  may  thither  fly  : 
c  3 


20  The  Book  of  Praise. 

The  earth  is  not  too  low  ; 
His  praises  there  may  grow. 

Let  all  the  world  in  every  corner  sing 
My  God  and  King  ! 
The  Church  with  psalms  must  shout ; 
No  door  can  keep  them  out : 
But,  above  all,  the  heart 
Must  bear  the  longest  part. 

Let  all  the  world  in  every  corner  sing 
My  God  and  King  ! 

Herbert.  1632. 


XXI. 

Psalm  CIV. 

O  worship  the  King, 

All  glorious  above  ; 
O  gratefully  sing 

His  power  and  His  love  ; 
Our  Shield  and  Defender, 

The  Ancient  of  days, 
PaviHoned  in  splendour, 

And  girded  with  praise. 

O  tell  of  His  might, 

O  sing  of  His  grace, 
Whose  robe  is  the  light, 

Whose  canopy  space ; 
His  chariots  of  wrath 

Deep  thunder-clouds  form, 
And  dark  is  His  path 

On  the  wings  of  the  storm. 


God  the  Creator.  2 1 

The  earth,  with  its  store 

Of  wonders  untold, 
Almighty,  Thy  power 

Hath  founded  of  old, 
Hath  stablish'd  it  fast 

By  a  changeless  decree, 
And  round  it  hath  cast, 


Thy  bountiful  care 

What  tongue  can  recite  ? 
It  breathes  in  the  air. 

It  shines  in  the  light ; 
It  streams  from  the  hills. 

It  descends  to  the  plain. 
And  sweetly  distils 

In  the  dew  and  the  rain. 

Frail  children  of  dust. 

And  feeble  as  frail, 
In  Thee  do  v/e  trust. 

Nor  find  Thee  to  fail : 
Thy  mercies  how  tender  ! 

How  firm  to  the  end  ! 
Our  Maker,  Defender, 

Redeemer,  and  Friend  ! 

O  measureless  Might ! 

Ineffable  Love ! 
While  angels  delight 

To  hymn  Thee  above, 
The  humbler  creation, 

Tho'  feeble  their  lays, 
With  true  adoration 

Shall  lisp  to  Thy  praise. 

Sir  Robert  Grant.    [  1 839,] 


22  The  Book  of  Praise. 

XXTI. 

Sing  to  the  Lord  with  cheerful  voice, 
From  realm  to  realm  the  notes  shall  sound  \ 

And  Heaven's  exulting  sons  rejoice 
To  bear  the  full  Hosanna  round. 

When,  starting  from  the  shades  of  night, 

At  dread  Jehovah's  high  behest, 
The  Sun  arrayed  his  limbs  in  light, 

And  Earth  her  virgin  beauty  drest; 

Thy  praise  transported  Nature  sung 

In  pealing  chorus  loud  and  far  ; 
The  echoing  vault  with  rapture  rung, 

And  shouted  every  morning  star. 

When,  bending  from  His  native  sky, 
The  Lord  of  Life  in  mercy  came. 

And  laid  His  bright  effulgence  by, 
To  bear  on  earth  a  human  name  ; 

The  song,  by  cherub  voices  raised, 

Roll'd  through  the  dark  blue  depths  above  ; 

And  Israel's  shepherds  heard  amazed 
The  seraph  notes  of  peace  and  love. 

And  shall  not  man  the  concert  join. 
For  whom  this  bright  creation  rose  ; 

For  whom  the  fires  of  morning  shine, 
And  eve's  still  lamps,  that  woo  repose  ? 

And  shall  not  he  the  chorus  swell. 
Whose  form  the  Incarnate  Godhead  wore  ; 

Whose  guilt,  whose  fears,  whose  triumph  tell 
How  deep  the  w^ounds  his  Saviour  bore  ? 


God  the  Creator,  23 

Long  as  yon  glittering  arch  shall  bend, 

Long  as  yon  orbs  in  glory  roll, 
Long  as  the  streams  of  life  descend 

To  cheer  with  hope  the  fainting  soul, 

Thy  praise  shall  fill  each  grateful  voice, 
Shall  bid  the  song  of  rapture  sound  : 

And  heaven's  exulting  sons  rejoice 
To  bear  the  full  Hosanna  round. 

John  Bowdler.  1814. 


XXIII. 

Psalm  CI II. 

Praise,  my  soul,  the  King  of  heaven  ; 

To  His  feet  thy  tribute  bring  ; 
Ransomed,  healed,  restored,  forgiven, 

Who  like  me  His  praise  should  sing  } 
Praise  Him  !  praise  Him  ! 

Praise  the  everlasting  King  ! 

Praise  Him  for  His  grace  and  favour, 

To  our  fathers  in  distress  ; 
Praise  Him,  still  the  same  for  €ver, 

Slow  to  chide,  and  swift  to  bless  ; 
Praise  Him  !  praise  him  ! 

Glorious  in  His  faithfulness  ! 

Father-like  He  tends  and  spares  us  ; 

Well  our  feeble  frame  he  knows  ; 
In  His  hands  He  gently  bears  us, 

Rescues  us  from  all  our  foes  : 
Praise  Him  !  praise  him  ! 

Widely  as  His  mercy  flows  ! 


24  The  Book  of  Praise. 

Angels,  help  us  to  adore  Him, 
Ye  behold  Him  face  to  face  ; 
Sun  and  moon,  bow  down  before  Him, 
Dwellers  all  in  time  and  space. 

Praise  Him  !  praise  Him  ! 
Praise  with  us  the  God  of  grace  ! 

Henry  Francis  Lyte.  1834. 


XXIV. 

Psalm  CL. 

Praise  the  Lord,  His  glories  show, 
Saints  within  His  courts  below, 
Angels  round  His  throne  above, 
All  that  see  and  share  His  love. 
Earth  to  heaven,  and  heaven  to  earth, 
Tell  his  wonders,  sing  his  worth  ; 
Age  to  age,  and  shore  to  shore. 
Praise  Him,  praise  Him,  evermore  ! 

Praise  the  Lord,  His  mercies  trace  ; 
Praise  His  providence  and  grace, 
All  that  He  for  man  hath  done, 
All  He  sends  us  through  His  Son  : 
Strings  and  voices,  hands  and  hearts, 
In  the  concert  bear  your  parts  ; 
All  that  breathe,  your  Lord  adore, 
Praise  Him,  praise  Him,  evermore  ! 

Henry  Francis  Lyte.  1 834. 


God  the  Creator.  25 

XXV. 

,  Psalm  CXLVIII. 

Praise  the   Lord  of  Heaven,  praise   Him   in  the 

height, 
Praise  Him,  all  ye  angels,  praise  Him,  stars  an-d 

light ; 
Praise  Him,  skies,  and  waters,  which  above  the  skies, 
When  His  word  commanded,  'stablished  did  arise. 

Praise  the  Lord,  ye  fountains  of  the  deeps  and  seas, 
Rocks  and  hills  and  mountains,  cedars  and  all  trees  ; 
Praise  Him,  clouds  and  vapours,  snow,  and  hail,  and 

fire, 
Stormy  wind,  fulfilling  only  His  desire. 

Praise  Him,  fowls  and  cattle,  princes  and  all  kings. 
Praise  Him,  men  and  maidens,  all  created  things  ; 
For  the  Name  of  God  is  excellent  alone  ; 
Over  earth  His  footstool,  over  heaven  His  throne. 

T.  B.  Browne.  1844. 


XXVI. 

Hark,  my  soul,  how  every  thing 
Strives  to  serve  our  bounteous  King 
Each  a  double  tribute  pays. 
Sings  its  part,  and  then  obeys. 

Nature's  chief  and  sweetest  quire 
Him  with  cheerful  notes  admire  ; 
Chanting  every  day  their  lauds. 
While  the  grove  their  song  applauds. 


26  The  Book  of  Praise. 

Though  their  voices  lower  be, 
Streams  have  too  their  melody  ; 
Night  and  day  they  warbling  run, 
Never  pause,  but  still  sing  on. 

All  the  flowers  that  gild  the  spring 
Hither  their  still  music  bring  ; 
If  Heaven  bless  them,  thankful  they 
Smell  more  sweet,  and  look  more  gay. 

Only  we  can  scarce  afford 
This  short  office  to  our  Lord  ; 
We,  on  whom  His  bounty  flows, 
All  things  gives,  and  nothing  owes. 

Wake,  for  shame,  my  sluggish  heart, 
Wake,  and  gladly  sing  thy  part ; 
Learn  of  birds,  and  springs,  and  flowers, 
How  to  use  thy  nobler  pov/ers. 

Call  whole  nature  to  thy  aid. 
Since  'twas  He  whole  nature  made  ; 
Join  in  one  eternal  song. 
Who  to  one  God  all  belong. 

Live  for  ever,  glorious  Lord  ! 
Live,  by  all  Thy  works  ador'd  ! 
One  in  Three,  and  Three  in  One, 
Thrice  we  bow  to  Thee  alone  ! 

-    .  John  Ausiiii.  i663. 


God  the  Creator.  2j 


XXVII. 


Come,  O  come  !  in  pious  lays 
Sound  we  God  Almighty's  praise  ; 
Hither  bring,  in  one  consent, 
Heart,  and  voice,  and  instrument : 
Music  add  of  every  kind, 
Sound  the  trump,  the  cornet  wind, 
Strike  the  viol,  touch  the  lute. 
Let  not  tongue  nor  string  be  mute  ; 
Nor  a  creature  dumb  be  found 
That  hath  either  voice  or  sound. 

Let  those  things  which  do  not  live 
In  still  music  praises  give  ; 
Lowly  pipe,  ye  worms  that  creep 
On  the  earth  or  in  the  deep  : 
Loud  aloft  your  voices  strain, 
Beasts  and  monsters  of  the  main  ; 
Birds,  your  warbling  treble  sing  ; 
Clouds,  your  peals  of  thunder  ring  ; 
Sun  and  moon,  exalted  higher, 
And  bright  stars,  augment  the  choir. 

Come,  ye  sons  of  human  race. 
In  this  chorus  take  your  place. 
And  amid  the  mortal  throng 
Be  you  masters  of  the  song .' 
Angels  and  supernal  powers, 
Be  the  noblest  tenor  yours  : 
Let,  in  praise  of  God,  the  sound 
Run  a  never-ending  round, 
That  our  song  of  praise  may  be 
Everlasting,  as  is  He. 


28  The  Book  of  Praise. 

From  earth's  vast  and  hollow  womb, 
Music's  deepest  base  may  come  ; 
Seas  and  floods,  from  shore  to  shore, 
Shall  their  counter-tenors  roar  : 
To  this  concert,_when  we  sing. 
Whistling  winds  your  descants  bring  ; 
That  our  song  may  over-climb 
All  the  bounds  of  place  and  time. 
And  ascend,  from  sphere  to  sphere, 
To  the  great  Almighty's  ear. 

So  from  Heaven  on  earth -He  shall 
Let  His  gracious  blessings  fall ; 
And  this  huge  wide  orb  we  see 
Shall  one  choir,  one  temple  be  ; 
Where  in  such  a  praiseful  tone 
We  will  sing  what  He  hath  done, 
That  the  cursed  fiends  below 
Shall  thereat  impatient  grow  : 
Then,  O  come,  in  pious  lays 
Sound  we  God  Almighty's  praise ! 

George  Wither.  1641. 


XXVIII. 

To  God,  ye  choir  above,  begin 

A  hymn  so  loud  and  strong. 
That  all  the  universe  may  hear 

And  join  the  grateful  song. 

Praise  Him,  thou  sun.  Who  dwells  unseen 

Amidst  transcendent  light. 
Where  thy  refulgent  orb  would  seem 

A  spot,  as  dark  as  night. 


God  the  Creator.  29 

Thou  silver  moon,  ye  host  of  stars, 

The  universal  song 
Through  the  serene  and  silent  night 

To  listening  worlds  prolong. 

Sing  Him,  ye  distant  worlds  and  suns, 

From  whence  no  travelling  ray 
Hath  yet  to  us,  through  ages  past, 

Had  time  to  make  its  way. 

Assist,  ye  raging  storms,  and  bear 

On  rapid  wings  His  praise, 
From  north  to  south,  from  east  to  west. 

Through  heaven,  and  earth,  and  seas. 

Exert  your  voice,  ye  furious  fires 

That  rend  the  watery  cloud. 
And  thunder  to  this  nether  world 

Your  Maker's  w^ords  aloud. 

Ye  works  of  God,  that  dwell  unknown 

Beneath  the  rolling  main  ; 
Ye  birds,  that  sing  among  the  groves,, 

And  sweep  the  azure  plain  ; 

Ye  stately  hills,  that  rear  your  heads. 

And  towering  pierce  the  sky  ; 
Ye  clouds,  that  wath  an  awful  pace 

Majestic  roll  on  high  ; 

Ye  insects  small,  to  which  one  leaf 

Within  its  narrow  sides 
A  vast  extended  world  displays, 

And  spacious  realms  provides ; 


30  The  Book  of  Pj-aise. 

Ye  race,  still  less  than  these,  with  which 

The  stagnant  water  teems, 
To  which  one  drop,  however  small, 

A  boundless  ocean  seems  ; 

Whate'er  ye  are,  where'er  ye  dwell, 

Ye  creatures  great  or  small, 
Adore  the  wisdom,  praise  the  power, 

That  made  and  governs  all. 

And  if  ye  want  or  sense  or  sounds, 

To  swell  the  grateful  noise, 
Prompt  mankind  with  that  sense,  and  they 

Shall  find  for  you  a  voice. 

From  all  the  boundless  realms  of  space 

Let  loud  Hosannas  sound  ; 
Loud  send,  ye  wondrous  works  of  God, 

The  grateful  concert  round. 

Philip  Skelton.  1784. 


XXTX. 

The  strain  upraise  of  joy  and  praise, 


To  the  glory  of  their  King 
Shall  the  ransomed  people  sing, 


Alleluia ! 


Alleluia ! 


And  the  choirs  that  dwell  on  high 
Shall  re-echo  through  the  sky, 

Alleluia ! 
They  through  the  fields  of  Paradise  who  roam. 
The  blessed  ones,  repeat  through  that  bright  home. 

Alleluia! 


God  the  Creator.  3 1 

The  planets  glittering  on  their  heavenly  way, 
The  shining  constellations,  join  and  say, 

Alleluia ! 
Ye  clouds  that  onward  sweep, 
Ye  winds  on  pinions  light, 
Ye  thunders,  echoing  loud  and  deep, 
Ye  lightnings,  wildly  bright, 
In  sweet  consent  unite  your  Alleluia ! 
Ye  floods  and  ocean  billows, 
Ye  storms  and  winter  snow, 
Ye  days  of  cloudless  beauty, 
Hoar  frost  and  summer  glow  ; 
Ye  groves  that  wave  in  spring, 
And  glorious  forests,  sing 

Alleluia ! 
First  let  the  birds,  with  painted  plumage  gay, 
Exalt  their  great  Creator's  praise,  and  say 

Alleluia ! 
Then  let  the  beasts  of  earth,  with  var>'ing  strain, 
Join  in  creation's  hymn,  and  cry  again, 

Alleluia! 
Here  let  the  mountains  thunder  forth  sonorous. 

Alleluia ! 
There  let  the  valleys  sing  in  gentler  chorus, 

Alleluia ! 
Thou  jubilant  abyss  of  ocean,  ciy 

Alleluia ! 

Alleluia ! 


Ye  tracts  of  earth  and  continents,  reply 


To  God,  WTio  all  creation  made. 
The  frequent  hymn  be  duly  paid  ; 

Alleluia ! 
This   is  the   strain,  the   eternal  strain,  the   Lord 
Almighty  loves ; 

Alleluia ! 


32  The  Book  of  Praise, 

This  is  the  song,  the  heavenly  song,  that  Christ 
Himself  approves ; 

Alleluia ! 
Wherefore  we  sing,  both  heart  and  voice  awaking, 

Alleluia! 
And  children's  voices  echo,  answer  making, 

Alleluia.! 
Nov/  from  all  men  be  outpoured 
Alleluia  to  the  Lord  ; 
With  Alleluia  evermore 
The  Son  and  Spirit  we  adore. 
Praise  be  done  to  the  Three  in  One, 
Alleluia  !  Alleluia  !  Alleluia  !  Alleluia  ! 

John  Mason  Neale.  1851. 


CHRIST  INCARNATE. 

III. 

'•^  And  in  one  Lord  Jestts  Christ,  the  only -begotten  Son 
of  God,  begotten  of  His  Father  before  all  worlds,  God 
of  God,  Light  of  Light,  Very  God  of  Very  God, 
Begotten,  not  made,  being  of  one  Substance  with  the 
Father,  by  Whoni  all  things  were  made : 

''^  Who  for  us  men,  and  for  our  salvation,  cajne  down 
from  Heaven,  and  was  Lncarnate  by  the  Holy  Ghost 
of  the  Virgin  Mary,  and  was  made  man.''' 

XXX. 

"  Jam  desinant  suspiriay 

Away  with  sorro^\''s  sigh, 
Our  prayers  are  heard  on  high  ; 
And  through  Heaven's  crystal  door 
On  this  our  earthly  floor 
Comes  meek-eyed  Peace  to  walk  with  poor  mortality. 


Christ  Incarnate.  33 

In  dead  of  night  profound, 
There  breaks  a  seraph  sound 
Of  never-ending  morn  ; 
The  Lord  of  glory  born 
Within  a  holy  grot  on  this  our  sullen  ground. 

Now  with  that  shepherd  crowd 
If  it  might  be  allowed, 
We  fain  would  enter  there 
With  awful  hastening  fear, 
And  kiss  that  cradle  chaste  in  reverend  worship 
bowed. 

O  sight  of  strange  surprise 

That  fills  our  gazing  eyes  : 

A  manger  coldly  strew'd, 
•  And  swaddling  bands  so  rude, 

A  leaning  mother  poor,  and  child  that  helpless  lies. 

Art  Thou,  O  wondrous  sight, 
Of  lights  the  very  Light ; 
Who  holdest  in  Thy  hand 
The  sky  and  sea  and  land  ; 
Who  than  the  glorious  heavens  art  more  exceeding 
bright  ? 

'Tis  so  ;  faith  darts  before. 
And,  through  the  cloud  drawn  o'er, 
She  sees  the  God  of  all. 
Where  angels  prostrate  fall. 
Adoring  tremble  still,  and  trembling  still  adore. 

No  thunders  round  Thee  break  ; 
Yet  doth  Thy  silence  speak 
From  that.  Thy  Teacher's  seat, 
To  us  around  Thy  feet. 
To  shun  what  flesh  desires,  what  flesh  abhors  to  seek. 

D 


34  The  Book  of  Praise. 

Within  us,  Babe  divine, 
Be  born,  and  make  us  Thine  ; 
Within  our  souls  reveal 
Thy  love  and  power  to  heal  ; 
Be  born,  and  make  our  hearts  Thy  cradle  and  Thy 
shrine. 

Isaac  Williams.  1839. 


xxxr. 

What  sudden  blaze  of  song 

Spreads  o'er  the  expanse  of  Heaven  ? 
In  waves  of  light  it  thrills  along, 
Th'  angelic  signal  given  : 
Glory  to  God  !  from  yonder  central  fire 
Flows  out  the  echoing  lay  beyond  the  starry  quire. 

Like  circles  widening  round 

Upon  a  clear  blue  river, 
Orb  after  orb,  the  wondrous  sound 
Is  echoed  on  for  ever: 
"  Glory  to  God  on  high,  on  earth  be  peace, 
And    love    towards   men    of  love,   salvation   and 
release ! " 

Yet  stay,  before  thou  dare 

To  join  that  festal  throng  ; 
Listen,  and  mark  what  gentle  air 
First  stirred  the  tide  of  song  : 
'Tis  not,  "  the  Saviour  born  in  David's  home. 
To  whom  for  power  and  health  obedient  w^orlds 
should  come." 

'Tis  not,  "the  Christ  the  Lord  :" 
With  fixed  adoring  look 


Christ  I Jt  earn  ate.  35 

The  quire  of  angels  caught  the  word, 
Nor  yet  their  silence  broke  : 
But  when  they  heard   the   sign,   where    Christ 
should  be, 
In  sudden  light  they  shone,  and  heavenly  harmony. 

Wrapped  in  His  swaddling  bands. 

And  in  His  manger  laid. 
The  Hope  and  Glory  of  all  lands 
Is  come  to  the  world's  aid  : 
No  peaceful  home  upon  His  cradle  smiFd  ; 
Guests  rudely  went  and  came,  where  slept  the  royal 
Child. 

But  where  Thou  dwellest,  Lord, 
No  other  thought  should  be, 
Once  duly  welcomed  and  adoi-'d. 
How  should  I  part  with  Thee  ? 
Bethlehem  must  lose  Thee  soon  ;  but  Thou  wilt 
grace 
The  single  heart  to  be  Thy  sure  abiding  place. 

Thee,  on  the  bosom  laid 
Of  a  pure  virgin  mind, 
In  quiet  ever  and  in  shade 
Shepherd  and  sage  may  find  ; 
They,   who  have  bowed   untaught   to    Nature's 
sway, 
And  they,  who  follow  Truth  along  her  star-paved 
way. 

The  pastoral  spirits  first 

Approach  Thee,  Babe  divine  ; 
For  they  in  lowly  thoughts  are  nurst, 

Meet  for  Thy  lowly  shrine  : 
D  2 


36  The  Book  of  Praise. 

Sooner  than  they  should  miss  where  Thou  dost 
dwell, 
Angels  from  Heaven  will  stoop  to  guide  them  to 
Thy  cell. 

Still,  as  the  day  comes  round 

For  Thee  to  be  reveal'd, 
By  wakeful  shepherds  Thou  art  found 
Abiding  in  the  field  : 
All  though  the  wintry  heaven  and  chill  night  air 
In  music  and  in  light  Thou  dawnest  on  their  prayer. 

O  faint  not  ye  for  fear  ! 

What  though  your  wandering  sheep. 
Reckless  of  what  they  see  and  hear 
Lie  lost  in  wilful  sleep  ? 
High  Heaven,  in  mercy  to  your  sad  annoy. 
Still  greets  you  with  glad  tidings  of  immortal  joy. 

Think  on  the  eternal  home 
The  Saviour  left  for  you  ; 
Think  on  the  Lord  most  Holy,  come 
To  dwell  with  hearts  untrue  : 
So  shall  ye  tread  untired  His  pastoral  ways. 
And  in  the  darkness  sing  your  carol  of  high  praise. 

JohnKeble.  1827. 


XXXII. 

'Tis  come,  the  time  so  oft  foretold, 
The  time  eternal  love  forecast ; 

Four  thousand  years  of  hope  have  rolled. 
And  God  hath  sent  His  Son  at  last ; 

Let  heaven,  let  earth,  adore  the  plan  ; 

Glory  to  God,  and  grace  to  man  ! 


Christ  Incarnate.  37 

To  swains  that  watch'd  their  nightly  fold, 

Of  lowly  lot,  of  lowly  mind. 
To  these  the  tidings  first  were  told, 

That  told  of  hope  for  lost  mankind  ; 
God  gives  His  Son  ;  no  more  He  can  ; 
Glory  to  God,  and  grace  to  man  ! 

And  well  to  shepherds  first  'tis  known. 
The  Lord  of  angels  comes  from  high. 

In  humblest  aspect  like  their  own, 
Good  Shepherd,  for  His  sheep  to  die : 

O  height  and  depth,  which  who  shall  span  ? 

Glory  to  God,  and  grace  to  man  ! 

Fain  with  those  meek,  those  happy  swains. 
Lord,  I  would  hear  that  angel  quire ; 

Till,  ravished  by  celestial  strains. 
My  heart  responds  with  holy  fire  ; 

(That  holy  fire  Thy  breath  must  fan  ;) 

Glory  to  God,  and  grace  to  man  ! 

Thomas  Grhifield.  1836. 


XXXIII. 

While  shepherds  watched  their  flocks  by  night 

All  seated  on  the  ground. 
The  angel  of  the  Lord  came  down, 

And  glory  shone  around. 

"  Fear  not,*'  said  he  ;  (for  mighty  dread 
Had  seized  their  troubled  mind  ;) 

"  Glad  tidings  of  great  joy  I  bring 
"  To  you  and  all  mankind. 


38        ■"  TJie  Book  of  Pi'aise. 

"To  you,  in  David's  town,  this  day 

"  Is  born  of  David's  line 
"  The  Saviour,  who  is  Christ  the  Lord  ; 

"  And  this  shaU  be  the  sign. 

"  The  heavenly  Babe  you  there  shall  find 

"  To  human  view  displayed, 
"  All  meanly  wrapt  in  swathing  bands, 

"  And  in  a  manger  laid." 

Thus  spake  the  Seraph  ;  and  forthwith 

A_ppeared  a  shining  throng 
Of  angels,  praising  God,  and  thus 

Address'd  their  joyful  song. 

"  All  glory  be  to  God  on  high, 

"  And  to  the  earth  be  peace  ; 
"  Good  will  henceforth  from  Heaven  to  men 

Nahum  Tate.  1703. 

XXXIV. 

Hark  !  how  all  the  welkin  rings 
Glory  to  the  King  of  kings  ! 
Peace  on  earth,  and  mercy  mild, 
God  and  sinners  reconciled  ! 
Joyful,  all  ye  nations,  rise. 
Join  the  triumph  of  the  skies ; 
Universal  nature  say, 
Christ  the  Lord  is  born  to-day ! 

Christ,  by  highest  Heaven  adorea ; 
Christ,  the  Everlasting  Lord  ; 
Late  in  time  behold  Him  come, 
Offspring  of  a  Virgin's  womb  : 


Christ  Incarnate.  39 

Veiled  in  flesh  the  Godhead  see ; 
Hail,  th'  Incarnate  Deity, 
Pleased  as  man  with  men  to  appear, 
Jesus,  our  Immanuel  here  ! 

Hail !  the  heavenly  Prince  of  Peace  ! 
Hail !  the  Sun  of  Righteousness  ! 
Light  and  life  to  all  He  brings, 
Risen  with  healing  in  His  Avings. 
Mild  He  lays  His  glory  by, 
Born  that  man  no  more  may  die, 
Born  to  raise  the  sons  of  earth, 
Born  to  give  them  second  birth. 

Come,  Desire  of  nations,  come, 

Fix  in  us  Thy  humble  home  ! 

Rise,  the  Woman's  conquering  Seed, 

Bruise  in  us  the  Serpent's  head  ! 

Now  display  Thy  saving  power. 

Ruined  nature  now  restore. 

Now  in  mystic  union  join 

Thine  to  ours,  and  ours  to  Thine  ! 

Adam's  likeness.  Lord,  efface  ; 
Stamp  Thy  image  in  its  place  ; 
Second  Adam  from  above. 
Reinstate  us  in  Thy  love  ! 
Let  us  Thee,  though  lost,  regain. 
Thee,  the  Life,  the  Heavenly  Man  : 
O  I  to  all  Thyself  impart, 
Formed  in  each  believing  heart ! 

Charles  Wesley.  1743, 


40  The  Book  of  Praise. 

XXXV. 

We'll  sing,  in  spite  of  scorn  : 

Our  tlieme  is  conie  from  Heaven  : 
To  us  a  Child  is  born, 
To  us  a  Son  is  given  ; 
The  sweetest  news  that  ever  came 
We'll  sing,  though  all  the  world  should  blame. 

The  long-expected  morn 

Has  dawn'd  upon  the  earth  ; 
The  Saviour  Christ  is  born, 
And  angels  sing  His  birth  : 
We'll  join  the  bright  seraphic  throng, 
We'll  share  their  joys,  and  swell  their  song. 

O  !  'tis  a  lofty  theme. 

Supplied  by  angels'  tongues  ! 
All  other  objects  seem 
Unw^orthy  of  our  songs. 
This  sacred  theme  has  boundless  charms^ 
It  fills,  it  captivates,  it  warms. 

Now  sing  of  peace  divine, 
Of  grace  to  guilty  man  ; 
No  wisdom,  Lord,  but  Thine 
Could  form  the  wondrous  plan  ; 
Where  peace  and  righteousness  embrace, 
And  justice  goes  along  with  grace. 

Give  praise  to  God  on  high. 

With  angels  round  His  throne  ; 
Give  praise  to  God  with  joy, 
Give  praise  to  God  alone  ! 
'Tis  meet  His  saints  their  songs  should  raise, 
And  give  the  Saviour  endless  praise. 

TJiofnas  Kelly.     1806 — 18;: 


Christ  Incarnate.  41 


XXXVI. 


The  scene  around  me  disappears, 
And,  borne  to  ancient  regions, 

While  time  recalls  the  flight  of  years, 
I  see  angehc  legions 

Descending  in  an  orb  of  light : 

Amidst  the  dark  and  silent  night 
I  hear  celestial  voices. 


Tidings,  glad  tidings  from  above 

To  every  age  and  nation  ! 
Tidings,  glad  tidings  !  God  is  Love, 

To  man  He  sends  salvation  ! 
His  Son  beloved,  His  only  Son, 
The  work  of  mercy  hath  begun  ; 

Give  to  His  Name  the  glory  ! 

Through  David's  city  I  am  led  ; 

Here  all  around  are  sleeping  ; 
A  Light  directs  to  yon  poor  shed  ; 

There  lonely  watch  is  keeping  : 
I  enter  ;  ah  !  what  glories  shine  ! 
Is  this  Immanuel's  earthly  shrine, 

Messiah's  infant  Temple  ? 

It  is,  it  is  ;  and  I  adore 

This  Stranger  meek  and  lowly. 
As  saints  and  angels  bow  before 

The  throne  of  God  thrice  Holy  ! 
Faith  through  the  veil  of  flesh  can  see 
The  Face  of  Thy  Divinity, 

My  Lord,  my  God,  my  Saviour  ! 

James  Montgomery.  1825. 


42  The  Book  of  Praise. 

XXXVII. 

Though  rude  winds  usher  thee,  sweet  day, 

Though  clouds  thy  face  deform, 
Though  nature's  grace  is  swept  av/ay 
Before  thy  sleety  storm  ; 
EVn  in  thy  sombrest  wintry  vest, 
Of  blessed  days  thou  art  most  blest. 

Nor  frigid  air  nor  gloomy  morn 

Shall  check  our  jubilee  ; 
Bright  is  the  day  when  Christ  was  born, 
No  sun  need  shine  but  He  ; 
Let  roughest  storms  their  coldest  blow, 
With  love  of  Him  our  hearts  shall  glow. 

Inspired  v^ith  high  and  holy  thought. 

Fancy  is  on  the  wing  ; 
It  seems  as  to  mine  ear  it  brought 
Those  voices  carolling. 
Voices  through  heaven  and  earth  that  ran, 
Glory  to  God,  good  will  to  man. 

I  see  the  shepherds  gazing  wild 
At  those  fair  spirits  of  light  ; 
I  see  them  bending  o'er  the  Child 
With  that  untold  delight 
Which  marks  the  face  of  those  who  view 
Things  but  too  happy  to  be  true. 

There,  in  the  lowly  manger  laid, 

Incarnate  God  they  see  ; 
He  stoops  to  take,  through  spotless  maid, 
Our  frail  humanity  : 
Son  of  high  God,  creation's  Heir, 
He  leaves  His  Heaven  to  raise  us  there 


Christ  hicarnaie.  43 

Through  Him,  Lord,  we  are  born  anew, 

Thy  children  once  again  ; 
Oil !  day  by  day  our  hearts  renew, 
That  Thine  we  may  remain, 
And,  angel-hke,  may  all  agree. 
One  sweet  and  holy  family. 

Oft,  as  this  joyous  morn  doth  come 

To  speak  our  Saviour's  love, 
Oh,  may  it  bear  our  spirits  home. 
Where  He  now  reigns  above  ; 
That  day  which  brought  Him  from  the  skies. 
And  man  restores  to  Paradise  ! 

Then  let  winds  usher  thee,  sweet  day. 

Let  clouds  thy  face  deform  ; 
Though  nature's  grace  is  swept  away 
Before  thy  sleety  storm  ; 
Ev'n  in  thy  sombrest  wintry  vest 
Of  blessed  days  thou  art  most  blest. 

Sam  uel  Richards.  1825. 


XXXVIII. 

It  came  upon  the  midnight  clear, 

That  glorious  song  of  old. 
From  angels  bending  near  the  earth 

To  touch  their  harps  of  gold  : 
"  Peace  to  the  earth,  goodwill  to  men 

From  Heaven's  all-gracious  King  :" 
The  world  in  solemn  stillness  lay 

To  hear  the  angels  sing. 

Still  through  the  cloven  skies  they  come 
With  peaceful  wings  unfurl'd  ; 


44  The  Book  of  Praise. 

And  still  their  heavenly  music  floats 

O'er  all  the  weary  world  : 
Above  its  sad  and  lowly  plains 

They  bend  on  heavenly  wing, 
And  ever  o'er  its  Babel  sounds 

The  blessed  angels  sing. 

Yet  with  the  woes  of  sin  and  strife 

The  world  has  suffered  long  ; 
Beneath  the  angel-strain  have  rolled 

Two  thousand  years  of  wrong  ; 
And  men,  at  war  with  men,  hear  not 

The  love-song  which  they  bring  : 
Oh  !  hush  the  noise,  ye  men  of  strife, 

And  hear  the  angels  sing  ! 

And  ye,  beneath  life's  crushing  load 

Whose  forms  are  bending  low, 
Who  toil  along  the  chmbing  way 

With  painful  steps  and  slow  ; 
Look  now  !  for  glad  and  golden  hours 

Come  swiftly  on  the  wing  : 
Oh  !  rest  beside  the  weary  road, 

And  hear  the  angels  sing  ! 

For  lo  !  the  days  are  hastening  on, 

By  prophet-bards  foretold. 
When  with  the  ever-circling  years 

Comes  round  the  age  of  gold  ; 
When  Peace  shall  over  all  the  earth 

Its  ancient  splendours  fling, 
And  the  whole  world  send  back  the  song 

Which  now  the  angels  sing. 

Edmund H.  Sears,    [il 


Clirist  Incarnate,  45 


XXXIX. 

The  race  that  long  in  darkness  pined 

Have  seen  a  glorious  Light ; 
The  people  dwell  in  Day,  who  dwelt 

In  Death's  surrounding  night. 

To  hail  Thy  rise,  Thou  better  Sun, 

The  gathering  nations  come, 
Joyous  as  when  the  reapers  bear 

The  harvest-treasures  home. 

For  Thou  our  burden  hast  removed, 

And  quell'd  th'  oppressor's  sway, 
Quick  as  the  slaughtered  squadrons  fell 

In  Midian's  evil  day. 

To  us  a  Child  of  Hope  is  born, 

To  us  a  Son  is  given  ; 
Him  shall  the  tribes  of  earth  obey, 

Him  all  the  hosts  of  heaven. 

His  Name  shall  be  the  Prince  of  Peace, 

For  evermore  adored, 
The  Wonderful,  the  Counsellor, 

The  great  and  mighty  Lord. 

His  power  increasing  still  shall  spread. 

His  reign  no  end  shall  know  : 
Justice  shall  guard  His  throne  above, 

And  Peace  abound  below. 

Jo/ut  Morrison.  1770. 


46  The  Book  of  Praise. 

XL. 

Bright  v/as  the  guiding  star  that  led 

With  mild  benignant  ray 
The  Gentiles  to  the  lowly  shed, 

Where  the  Redeemer  lay. 

But  lo  !  a  brighter,  clearer  light 

Now  points  to  His  abode  ; 
It  shines  through  sin  and  sorrow's  night, 

To  guide  us  to  our  God. 

O  haste  to  follow  where  it  leads  ; 

The  gracious  call  obey  ; 
Be  rugged  wilds,  or  flowery  meads. 

The  Christian's  destined  way. 

O  gladly  tread  the  narrow  path 
While  light  and  grace  are  given  ! 

Who  meekly  follow  Christ  on  earth, 
Shall  reign  with  Him  in  heaven. 

Harriett  A  nber.   i  S29. 


XLI. 

As  with  gladness  men  of  old 
Did  the  guiding  star  behold  ; 
As  with  joy  they  hailed  its  light, 
Leading  onward,  beaming  bright  ; 
So,  most  gracious  God,  may  we 
Evermore  be  led  to  Thee. 

As  with  joyful  steps  they  sped 
To  that  lowly  manger-bed  ; 
There  to  bend  the  knee  before 
'  Him  whom  heaven  and  earth  adore 


CJirist  Incarnate.  47 

So  may  we  with  willing  feet 
Ever  seek  Thy  mercy-seat. 

As  they  offered  gifts  most  rare 
At  that  manger  rude  and  bare  ; 
So  may  we  with  holy-joy, 
Pure,  and  free  from  sin's  alloy, 
All  our  costhest  treasures  bring, 
Christ,  to  Thee,  our  heavenly  King. 


Holy  Jesus  !  every  day 
Keep  us  in  the  narrow  way  ; 
And,  when  earthly  things  are  past. 
Bring  our  ransomed  souls  at  last 
Where  they  need  no  star  to  guide, 
Where  no  clouds  Thy  glory  hide. 

In  the  heavenly  country  bright 
Need  they  no  created  light ; 
Thou  its  Light,  its  Joy,  its  Crown, 
Thou  its  Sun,  which  goes  not  down  : 
There  for  ever  may  we  sing 
Alleluias  to  our  King. 

William  Chatterton  Dix.   1B60. 

XLII. 

Hark,  the  glad  sound  !  the'Saviour  comes, 

The  Saviour  promised  long  ; 
Let  every  heart  prepare  a  throne, 

And  every  voice  a  song  ! 

He  comes,  the  prisoners  to  release 

In  Satan's  bondage  held  ; 
The  gates  of  brass  before  Him  burst. 

The  iron  fetters  yield. 


48  The  Book  of  Praise. 

He  comes,  from  thickest  films  of  vice 

To  clear  the  mental  ray, 
And  on  the  eye-balls  of  the  blind 

To  pour  celestial  day. 

He  comes,  the  broken  heart  to  bind, 

The  bleeding  soul  to  cure, 
And  with  the  treasures  of  His  grace 

To  enrich  the  humble  poor. 

Our  glad  Hosannas,  Prince  of  Peace, 

Thy  welcome  shall  proclaim, 
And  heaven's  eternal  arches  ring 

With  thy  beloved  name. 

Philip  Doddridge.   1755. 


XLIIL 

Lo  !  He  comes  !  let  all  adore  Him  ! 

'Tis  the  God  of  grace  and  truth  ! 
Go  !  prepare  the  way  before  Him, 

Make  the  rugged  places  smooth  ! 
Lo  !  He  comes,  the  mighty  Lord  ! 
Great  His  work,  and  His  reward. 

Let  the  valleys  all  be  raised  ; 

Go,  and  make  the  crooked  straight ; 
Let  the  mountains  be  abased  ; 

Let  all  nature  change  its  state  ; 
Through  the  desert  mark  a  road, 
Make  a  highway  for  our  God. 

Through  the  desert  God  is  going, 
Through  the  desert  waste  and  wild, 

Where  no  goodly  plant  is  growing. 
Where  no  verdure  ever  smiled  ; 


Chrkt  Incarnate.  49 

But  the  desert  shall  be  glad, 
And  with  verdure  soon  be  clad. 

Where  the  thorn  and  briar  flourish'd, 
Trees  shall  there  be  seen  to  grow, 

Planted  by  the  Lord  and  nourish' d, 
Stately,  fair,  and  fruitful  too  ; 

They  shall  rise  on  every  side. 

They  shall  spread  their  branches  wide. 

From  the  hills  and  lofty  mountains 

Rivers  shall  be  seen  to  flow, 
There  the  Lord  will  open  fountains, 

Thence  supply  the  plains  below  ; 
As  He  passes,  every  land 
Shall  confess  His  powerful  hand. 

Thotnas  Kelly.  1 809. 


XLIV. 

Psalm  XCVHL 

Joy  to  the  world,  the  Lord  is  come  : 

Let  earth  receive  her  King  ; 
Let  every  heart  prepare  Him  room, 

And  heaven  and  nature  sing. 

Joy  to  the  earth  !  the  Saviour  reigns  ; 

Let  men  their  songs  employ  ; 
While  fields  and  floods,  rocks,  hills,  and  plains 

Repeat  the  sounding  joy. 

No  more  let  sins  and  sorrows  grow, 

Nor  thorns  infest  the  ground  : 
He  comes  to  make  His  blessings  flow 

Far  as  the  curse  is  found. 
E 


50  TJie  Book  of  Praise. 

He  rules  the  world  with  truth  and  grace, 

And  makes  the  nations  prove 
The  glories  of  His  righteousness, 

And  wonders  of  His  love. 

Isaac  Waits,  1709. 

XLV. 

Thus  saith  God  of  His  Anointed  ; 

He  shall  let  My  people  go  ; 
'Tis  the  work  for  Him  appointed, 

'Tis  the  work  that  He  shall  do  ; 
And  My  city 
He  shall  found,  and  build  it  too. 

He  whom  man  with  scorn  refuses, 
Whom  the  favoured  nation  hates, 

He  it  is  Jehovah  chooses, 

Him  the  highest  place  awaits  ; 
Kings  and  princes 

Shall  do  homage  at  His  gates. 

He  shall  humble  all  the  scorners, 
He  shall  fill  His  foes  with  shame ; 

He  shall  raise  and  comfort  mourners 
By  the  sweetness  of  His  Name  ; 
To  the  captives 

He  shall  liberty  proclaim. 

He  shall  gather  those  that  wander'd  ; 

When  they  hear  the  trumpet's  sound, 
They  shall  join  the  sacred  standard, 
They  shall  come  and  flock  around  ; 

He  shall  save  them. 
They  shall  be  with  glory  crown'd. 

Thomas  Keily.  1 809. 


Christ  hicarnate.  5 1 


XLVI. 

0  for  a  thousand  tongues  to  sing 

My  dear  Redeemer's  praise, 
The  glories  of  my  God  and  King, 

The  triumphs  of  His  grace  ! 

My  gracious  Master  and  my  God, 

Assist  me  to  proclaim, 
To  spread,  through  all  the  earth  abroad. 

The  honours  of  Thy  Name. 

Jesus,  the  Name  that  charms  our  fears, 

That  bids  our  sorrows  cease  ; 
'Tis  music  in  the  sinner's  ears, 

'Tis  life,  and  health,  and  peace  ! 

He  speaks,  and,  listening  to  His  voice, 

New  life  the  dead  receive  ; 
The  mournful,  broken  hearts  rejoice. 

The  humble  poor  believe. 

Hear  Him,  ye  deaf;  His  praise,  ye  dumb, 
Your  loosened  tongues  employ  ; 

Ye  blmd,  behold  your  Saviour  come, 
And  leap,  ye  lame,  for  joy  ! 

Charles  Wesley.  1743. 


XLVI  I. 

How  sweet  the  Name  of  Jesus  sounds 

In  a  believer's  car! 
It  soothes  his  sorrows,  heals  his  wounds, 

And  drive§  away  his  fear! 
E  ?. 


52  The  Book  of  Praise. 

It  makes  the  wounded  spirit  whole. 
And  cahns  the  troubled  breast ; 

'Tis  manna  to  the  hungry  soul, 
And  to  the  weary  rest. 

Dear  Name !  the  rock  on  which  I  build, 

My  shield  and  hiding-place, 
My  never-failing  treasury,  fill'd 

With  boundless  stores  of  grace, 

By  Thee  my  prayers  acceptance  gain, 

Although  with  sin  defiled  ; 
Satan  accuses  me  in  vain, 

And  I  am  owned  a  child. 

Jesus,  my  Shepherd,  Husband,  Friend, 
My  Prophet,  Priest,  and  King, 

My  Lord,  my  Life,  my  Way,  my  End, 
Accept  the  praise  I  bring. 

Weak  is  the  effort  of  my  heart. 
And  cold  my  warmest  thought ; 

But,  when  I  see  Thee  as  Thou  art, 
I'll  praise  Thee  as  I  ought. 

Till  then,  I  would  Thy  love  proclaim 

With  every  fleeting  breath  ; 
And  may  the  music  of  Thy  Name 

Refresh  my  soul  in  death ! 

John  Newton.  1 779. 


Christ  Crucified,  53 


IV. 

And  was  Crucified  for  tis  under  Pontius  Pilate ;  He 
suffered,  and iv as  buried.'"' 

XLVIII. 

When  I  survey  the  wondrous  cross 
On  which  the  Prince  of  glory  died, 

My  richest  gain  I  count  but  loss, 
And  pour  contempt  on  all  my  pride. 

Forbid  it,  Lord,  that  I  should  boast 
Save  in  the  death  of  Christ,  my  God ; 

All  the  vain  things  that  charm  me  most 
I  sacrifice  them  to  His  blood. 


See  from  His  head,  His  hands,  His  feet, 
Sorrow  and  love  flow  mingled  down ! 

Did  e'er  such  love  and  sorrow  meet. 
Or  thorns  compose  so  rich  a  crown  ? 

Were  the  whole  realm  of  nature  mine. 
That  were  a  present  far  too  small ; 


Demands  my  soul,  my  life,  my  all 

Isaac  Watts.  1709. 


XLTX. 

We  sing  the  praise  of  Him  Who  died, 
Of  Him  Who  died  upon  the  cross ; 

The  sinner's  hope  let  men  deride. 
For  this  wc  count  the  world  but  loss. 


54  1  he  Book  of  Praise. 

Inscribed  upon  the  cross  we  see 
In  shining  letters,  God  is  Love  ; 

He  bears  our  sins  upon  the  tree, 
He  brings  us  mercy  from  above. 

The  Cross !  it  takes  our  guilt  away  ; 

It  holds  the  fainting  spirit  up  ; 
It  cheers  with  hope  the  gloomy  day, 

And  sweetens  every  bitter  cup ; 

It  makes  the  coward  spirit  brave, 
And  nerves  the  feeble  arm  for  fight ; 

It  takes  its  terror  from  the  grave, 
And  gilds  the  bed  of  death  with  light ; 

The  balm  of  life,  the  cure  of  woe. 
The  measure  and  the  pledge  of  love, 

The  sinner's  refuge  here  below, 
The  angels'  theme  in  heaven  above. 

Thomas  Kelly.  1 820. 


Lord  Jesu,  when  we  stand  afar 
And  gaze  upon  Thy  Holy  Cross, 

In  love  of  Thee  and  scorn  of  self, 
Oh !  may  we  count  the  world  as  loss. 

When  we  behold  Thy  bleeding  wounds, 
And  the  rough  way  that  Thou  hast  trod. 

Make  us  to  hate  the  load  of  sin 
That  lay  so  heavy  on  our  God. 

Oh  holy  Lord !  uplifted  high 

With  outstretched  arms,  in  mortal  woe. 
Embracing  in  Thy  wondrous  love 

The  sinful  world  that  lies  below. 


Christ  Ci'itcijicd.  55 

Give  us  an  ever  living  faith 
To  gaze  beyond  the  things  we  see  ; 

And  in  the  mystery  of  Thy  Death 
Draw  us  and  all  men  unto  Thee ! 

William  WaWiam  How.  [1854.] 


LI. 


Beneath  Thy  cross  I  lay  me  down, 
And  mourn  to  see  Thy  bloody  crown  ; 
Love  drops  in  blood  from  every  vein  ; 
Love  is  the  spring  of  all  His  pain. 

Here,  Jesus,  I  shall  ever  stay, 
And  spend  my  longing  hours  away, 
Think  on  Thy  bleeding  wounds  and  pain. 
And  contemplate  Thy  woes  again. 

The  rage  of  Satan  and  of  sin, 
Of  foes  without,  and  fears  within, 
Shall  ne'er  my  conquering  soul  remove 
Or  from  Thy  cross,  or  from  Thy  love. 

Secured  from  harms  beneath  Thy  shade, 
Here  death  and  hell  shall  ne'er  invade  ; 
Nor  Sinai,  with  its  thundering  noise. 
Shall  e'er  disturb  my  happier  joys. 

O  unmolested  happy  rest  ! 
Where  inward  fears  are  all  supprest ; 
Here  I  shall  love,  and  live  secure. 
And  patiently  my  cross  endure. 

Williain  Williams.    1772. 


56  The  Book  of  Pi'aise. 

LII. 

Plunged  in  a  gulf  of  dark  despair 

We  wretched  sinners  lay, 
Without  one  cheerful  beam  of  hope, 

Or  spark  of  glimmering  day. 

With  pitying  eyes  the  Prince  of  Grace 

Beheld  our  helpless  grief : 
He  saw,  and  oh!  amazing  love! 

He  ran  to  our  relief. 

Down  from  the  shining  seats  above 

With  jo}^ul  haste  He  fled  ; 
Entered  the  grave  in  mortal  flesh, 

And  dwelt  among  the  dead. 

Oh !  for  this  love,  let  rocks  and  hills 

Their  lasting  silence  break. 
And  all  harmonious  human  tongues 

The  Saviour's  praises  speak ! 

Angels,  assist  our  mighty  joys  ; 

Strike  all  your  harps  of  gold ! 
But,  when  you  raise  your  highest  notes, 

His  love  can  ne'er  be  told. 

Isaac  Watts.  1709. 


LIII. 

Psalm  VH  I. 
O  Lord,  how  good,  how  great  art  Thou, 

In  heaven  and  earth  the  same  ! 
There  angels  at  Thy  footstool  bow, 

Here  babes  Thy  grace  proclaim. 


Christ  Crucijied.  57 

When  glorious  in  the  nightly  sky 

Thy  moon  and  stars  I  see, 
O,  what  is  man  !   I  wondering  cry, 

To  be  so  loved  by  Thee  ! 

To  him  Thou  hourly  deign'st  to  give 

New  mercies  from  on  high  ; 
Didst  quit  Thy  Throne  with  him  to  live, 

For  him  in  pain  to  die. 

Close  to  Thine  own  bright  seraphim 

His  favoured  path  is  trod ; 
And  all  beside  are  serving  him, 

That  he  may  serve  his  God. 

O  Lord,  how  good,  how  great  art  Thou, 

In  heaven  and  earth  the  same  ! 
There  angels  at  Thy  footstool  bow, 

Here  babes  Thy  grace  proclaim. 

Henry  Francis  Lyte.  1 834, 

LIV. 

Blow  ye  the  trumpet,  blow, 

The  gladly  solemn  sound  ; 
Let  all  the  nations  know. 
To  earth's  remotest  bound  ; 
The  year  of  Jubilee  is  come  ; 
Return,  ye  ransomed  sinners,  home. 

Jesus,  our  great  High  Priest, 

Hath  full  atonement  made  ; 
Ye  weary  spirits,  rest ; 

Ye  mournful  souls,  be  glad  : 
The  year  of  Jubilee  is  come  ; 
Return,  ye  ransomed  sinners,  home. 


$8  The  Book  of  Praise, 

Extol  the  Lamb  of  God, 

The  all-atoning  Lamb ; 
Redemption  in  His  blood 

Throughout  the  world  proclaim  : 
The  year  of  Jubilee  is  come  ; 
Return,  ye  ransomed  sinners,  home. 


Your  liberty  receive  ; 
And  safe  in  Jesus  dwell, 
And  blest  in  Jesus  live  : 
The  year  of  Jubilee  is  come  ; 
Return,  ye  ransomed  sinners,  home. 


Your  heritage  above, 
Shall  have  it  back  unbought, 

The  gift  of  Jesus'  love  ; 
The  year  of  Jubilee  is  come  ; 
Return,  ye  ransomed  sinners,  home. 

The  Gospel  Trumpet  hear, 

The  news  of  heavenly  grace ; 
And,  saved  from  earth,  appear 
Before  your  Saviour's  face  : 
The  year  of  Jubilee  is  come  ; 
Return,  ye  ransomed  sinners,  home, 

Charles  Wesley.  1751. 


LV. 

Now  let  us  join  with  hearts  and  tongues, 
And  emulate  the  angels'  songs ; 
Yea,  sinners  may  address  their  King 
In  songs  that  angels  cannot  sing. 


Christ  Onicified.  55 

They  praise  the  Lamb  who  once  was  slain ; 
But  we  can  add  a  higher  strain  ; 
Not  only  say,  He  suffered  thus, 
But  that  He  suffered  all  for  us. 

Jesus,  who  pass'd  the  angels  by, 
Assumed  our  flesh  to  bleed  and  die ; 
And  still  He  makes  it  His  abode  ; 
As  man  He  fills  the  throne  of  God. 

Our  next  of  kin,  our  Brother  now, 
Is  He  to  whom  the  angels  bow  ; 
They  join  with  us  to  praise  His  Name, 
But  we  the  nearest  interest  claim. 

But  ah  !  how  faint  our  praises  rise  ! 
Sure  'tis  the  wonder  of  the  skies. 
That  we,  w^ho  share  His  richest  love, 
So  cold  and  unconcern'd  should  prove. 

O  glorious  hour  !  it  comes  with  speed. 
When  we,  from  sin  and  darkness  freed, 
Shall  see  the  God  who  died  for  man. 
And  praise  Him  more  than  angels  can. 

John  Newton.  1779 

LVI. 

0  Saviour,  may  we  never  rest 

Till  Thou  art  form'd  within  ; 
Till  Thou  hast  calm'd  our  troubled  breast, 

And  crush'd  the  power  of  sin. 

O  may  we  gaze  upon  Thy  cross, 

Until  the  wondrous  sight 
Makes  earthly  treasures  seem  but  dross, 

And  earthly  sorrows  liglit. 


6o  The  Book  of  Praise. 

Until,  releas'd  from  carnal  ties, 

Our  spirit  upward  springs. 
And  sees  true  peace  above  the  skies, 

True  joy  in  heavenly  things. 

There  as  we  gaze,  may  we  become 

United,  Lord,  to  Thee  ; 
And  in  a  fairer,  happier  home, 

Thy  perfect  beauty  see. 

William  Hiley  Bathnrst.  1831. 


LVII. 

Saviour,  I  lift  my  trembling  eyes 

To  that  bright  seat,  where,  placed  on  high, 
The  great,  the  atoning  Sacrifice, 

For  me,  for  all,  is  ever  nigh. 

Be  Thou  my  guard  on  peril's  brink  ; 

Be  Thou  my  guide  through  weal  or  woe  ; 
And  teach  me  of  Thy  cup  to  drink, 

And  make  me  in  Thy  path  to  go. 

For  what  is  earthly  change  or  loss  ? 

Thy  promises  are  still  my  own  : 
The  feeblest  frame  may  bear  Thy  cross, 

The  lowliest  spirit  share  Thy  Throne. 

Alton,  "J/.  G.  r."  1 83 1. 


CJiJ'ist  Risen.  6l 

V. 

CHRIST  RISEN. 

And  the  third  day  He  rose  again,   according  to   the 
Scriptures. " 

LVIII. 

Again  the  Lord  of  Life  and  Light 

Awakes  the  kindhng  ray, 
Unseals  the  eyelids  of  the  morn, 

And  pours  increasing  day. 

O  what  a  night  was  that  which  wrapt 

The  heathen  world  in  gloom  ! 
O  what  a  sun,  which  broke  this  day 

Triumphant  from  the  tomb  ! 

This  day  be  grateful  homage  paid, 

And  loud  hosannas  sung  ; 
Let  gladness  dwell  in  every  heart, 

And  praise  on  every  tongue. 

Ten  thousand  differing  lips  shall  join 

To  hail  this  welcome  morn. 
Which  scatters  blessings  from  its  wings 

To  nations  yet  unborn. 

The  powers  of  darkness  leagued  in  vain 

To  bind  His  Soul  in  death  ; 
He  shook  their  kingdom,  when  He  fell, 

With  His  expiring  breath. 


62  The  Book  of  Praise. 

And  ROW  His  conquering  chariot  wheels 

Ascend  the  lofty  skies  ; 
While  broke  beneath  His  powerful  cross 

Death's  iron  sceptre  lies. 

Exalted  high  at  God's  right  hand, 

The  Lord  of  all  below, 
Through  Him  is  pardoning  love  dispens'd, 

And  boundless  blessings  flow. 

And  still  for  erring  guilty  man 

A  Brother  s  pity  flows  ; 
And  still  His  bleeding  heart  is  touch'd 

With  memory  of  our  woes. 

To  Thee,  my  Saviour  and  my  King, 

Glad  homage  let  me  give  ; 
And  stand  prepared  like  Thee  to  die, 

With  Thee  that  I  may  live  ! 

Anna  Lcetitia  Barbauld.  i  ']']i. 


LIX. 

Christ  the  Lord  is  risen  to-day, 
Sons  of  men  and  angels  say  : 
Raise  your  joys  and  triumphs  high. 
Sing,  ye  heavens,  and  earth  reply. 

Love's  redeeming  work  is  done, 
Fought  the  fight,  the  battle  won  : 
Lo  !  our  Sun's  eclipse  is  o'er  ; 
Lo  !  He  sets  in  blood  no  more. 

Vain  the  stone,  the  watch,  the  seal ; 
Christ  hath  burst  the  gates  of  hell ! 


Christ  Risen.  63 

Death  in  vain  forbids  His  rise  ; 
Christ  hath  open'd  Paradise  ! 

Lives  again  our  glorious  King : 
Where,  O  Death,  is  now  thy  sting  ? 
Once  He  died,  our  souls  to  save  : 
Where  thy  victory,  O  Grave  ? 

Soar  we  now  where  Christ  has  led, 
Following  our  exalted  Head  ; 
Made  like  Him,  like  Him  we  rise  ; 
Ours  the  cross,  the  grave,  the  skies. 

What  though  once  we  perish'd  all, 
Partners  in  our  parents'  fall  ? 
Second  life  we  all  receive. 
In  our  Heavenly  Adam  live. 

Risen  with  Him,  we  upward  move  ; 
Still  we  seek  the  things  above  ; 
Still  pursue,  and  kiss  the  Son 
Seated  on  His  Father's  Throne. 

Scarce  on  earth  a  thought  bestov/, 
Dead  to  all  we  leave  below  ; 
Heav'n  our  aim,  and  loved  abode, 
Hid  our  life  with  Christ  in  God  : 

Hid,  till  Christ  our  Life  appear 
Glorious  in  His  members  here  ; 
Join'd  to  Him,  we  then  shall  shine, 
All  immortal,  all  divine. 

Hail  the  Lord  of  Earth  and  HeaA'cn  ! 
Praise  to  Thee  by  both  be  given  ! 
Thee  we  greet  triumphant  now  ! 
Hail,  the  Resurrection  Thou  ! 


64 


The  Booh  of  Praise. 


King  of  glory,  Soul  of  bliss  ! 
Everlasting  life  is  this, 
Thee  to  know,  Thy  power  to  prove, 
Thus  to  sing,  and  thus  to  love  ! 

Charles  Wesley.  1743. 


LX. 

Jesus  Christ  is  risen  to-day, 
Our  triumphant  holy  day. 
Who  did  once  upon  the  cross 
Suffer  to  redeem  our  loss  ; 

Hymns  af  praise  then  let  us  sing 
Unto  Christ  our  heavenly  King, 
Who  endured  the  cross  and  grave, 
Sinners  to  redeem  and  save  ; 

But  the  pain  which  He  endured. 
Our  salvation  has  procured  : 
Now  above  the  sky  He's  king. 
Where  the  angels  ever  sing 


Hallelujah  ! 
Hallelujah  ! 
Hallelujah ! 
Hallelujah ! 

Hallelujah  ! 
Hallelujah  ! 
Hallelujah ! 
Hallelujah ! 

Hallelujah  ! 
Hallelujah  ! 
Hallelujah  ! 
Hallelujah ! 


Sing  we  to  our  God  above  Hallelujah  ! 

Praise  eternal  as  His  love  ;  Hallelujah  ! 

Praise  Him,  all  ye  heavenly  host,  Hallelujah  ! 

Father,  Son,  and  Holy  Ghost ;  Hallelujah  ! 

Afioji.  [1750.] 
{Last  stanza  by  Charles  Wesley.) 


LXI. 
Ad  temp  la  nos  7'ursiis  vocat. 

Now  morning  lifts  her  dcAvy  veil 
With  new-born  blessings  crown'd  : 

Oh  !  haste  we  then  her  light  to  hail 
In  courts  of  holy  ground  ! 


Christ  Risen,  65 

But  Christ,  triumphant  o'er  the  grave, 

Shines  more  divinely  bright : 
Oh  !  sing  we  then  His  power  to  save, 

And  walk  wc  in  His  light ! 

When  from  the  swaddling  bands  of  shade, 

Sprang  forth  the  world  so  fair, 
In  robes  of  brilliancy  arrayed, 

Oh,  what  a  Power  was  there  ! 

When  He,  who  gave  His  guiltless  Son 

A  guilty  world  to  spare, 
Restored  to  life  the  Holy  One, 

Oh,  what  a  Love  was  there  ! 

When  forth  from  its  Creator's  hand 

The  earth  in  beauty  stood, 
All  decked  with  light  at  His  command. 

He  saw,  and  called  it  good. 

But  still  more  lovely  in  His  sight. 

The  earth  still  fairer  stood, 
When  the  Holy  Lamb  had  wash'd  it  white 

In  His  atoning  blood. 

Still,  as  the  morning  rays  return, 

To  the  pious  soul  'tis  given 
In  fancy's  mirror  to  discern 

The  radiant  domes  of  Heaven. 

But  now  that  our  eternal  Sun 

Hath  shed  His  beams  abroad, 
In  Him  we  see  the  Holy  One, 

And  mount  at  once  to  God. 
F 


66  The  Book  of  Praise. 

Oh,  holy,  blessed  Three  in  One  ! 
May  Thy  pure  light  be  given, 
That  we  the  paths  of  death  may  shun, 
And  keep  the  road  to  Heaven  ! 

JoJdi  Chmidler.  1837. 
Variation  from  Isaac  Wil'iams. 

LXII. 

The  Son  of  God  !  the  Lord  of  Life  ! 

How  wondrous  are  His  ways  ! 
O  for  a  harp  of  thousand  strings, 

To  sound  abroad  his  praise  ! 
How  passing  strange,  to  leave  the  seat 

Of  Heaven's  eternal  throne, 
And  hosts  of  glittering  Seraphim, 

For  guilty  man  alone  ! 

And  did  He  bow  His  sacred  head, 

And  die  a  death  of  shame  ? 
Let  men  and  angels  magnify 

And  bless  His  holy  name  ! 
O  let  us  live  in  peace  and  love, 

And  cast  away  our  pride, 
And  crucify  our  sins  afresh. 

As  He  was  crucified  ! 

He  rose  again  ;  then  let  us  rise 

From  sin,  and  Christ  adore. 
And  dwell  in  peace  with  all  mankind, 

And  tempt  the  Lord  no  more  : 
The  Son  of  God  \  the  Lord  of  Life  ! 

How  wondrous  are  His  ways  ! 
O  for  a  harp  of  thousand  strings 

To  sound  abroad  His  praise  ! 

George  Mogridgc.  [i  85 1 .] 


Christ  Rtsm.  67 


LXIIT. 

Salvation  !  oh  !  the  joyful  sound  ! 

'Tis  pleasure  to  our  ears  ! 
A  sovereign  balm  for  every  wound, 

A  cordial-  for  our  fears  ! 

Buried  in  sorrow  and  in  sin, 

At  hell's  dark  door  we  lay  ; 
But  we  arise,  by  grace  Divine, 

To  see  a  heavenly  day. 

Salvation  !  let  the  echo  fly 

The  spacious  earth  around, 
While  all  the  armies  of  the  sky 

Conspire  to  raise  the  sound  ! 

Isaac  Watfs.  1709 


LXIV. 

The  foe  behind,  the  deep  before, 

Our  hosts  have  dared  and  past  the  sea 
And  Pharaoh's  warriors  strew  the  shore, 
And  Israel's  ransom'd  tribes  are  free. 
Lift  up,  lift  up  your  voices  now  ! 
The  whole  wide  world  rejoices  now  ! 
The  Lord  hath  triumph'd  gloriously ! 
The  Lord  shall  reign  victoriously  ! 
Happy  morrow, 
Turning  sorrow 

Into  peace  and  mirth  ! 
Bondage  ending, 
Love  descending 
O'er  the  earth ! 
F  2 


68  The  Book  of  Praise. 

Seals  assuring, 
Guards  securing, 

Watch  His  earthly  prison  : 
Seals  are  shattered. 
Guards  are  scattered, 

Christ  hath  risen  ! 

No  longer  must  the  mourners  weep. 

Nor  call  departed  Christians  dead  ; 
For  death  is  hallowed  into  sleep 
And  every  grave  becomes  a  bed. 
Now  once  more, 
Eden's  door 
Open  stands  to  mortal  eyes  ; 
For  Christ  hath  risen,  and  men  shall  rise  : 
Now  at  last, 
Old  things  past, 
Hope  and  joy  and  peace  begin  : 
For  Christ  hath  won,  and  man  shall  v/in. 

It  is  not  exile,  rest  on  high  : 

It  is  not  sadness,  peace  from  strife  : 
To  fall  asleep  is  not  to  die  ; 

To  dwell  with  Christ  is  better  life. 
Where  our  banner  leads  us, 

We  may  safely  go  : 
Where  our  Chief  precedes  us. 

We  may  face  the  foe. 
His  right  arm  is  o'er  us, 

He  will  guide  us  through  ; 
Christ  hath  gone  before  us  ; 
Christians  !  follow  you  ! 

John  Masoti  Neale.  1851. 


Christ  A sce?ided.  69 

VI. 

CHRIST  ASCENDED. 

"  And  ascended  into  Heaven  ;  and  sitteth  on  the  right 
hand  of  the  Father.''^ 

LXV. 

Thou  art  gone  up  on  high 

To  mansions  in  the  skies, 
And  round  Thy  throne  unceasingly 

The  songs  of  praise  arise. 
But  we  are  lingering  here 

With  sin  and  care  oppress'd  ; 
Lord  !  send  Thy  promised  Comforter, 

And  lead  us  to  Thy  rest  ! 

Thou  art  gone  up  on  high  : 

But  Thou  didst  first  come  down, 
Through  earth's  most  bitter  agony 

To  pass  unto  Thy  crown  : 
And  girt  with  griefs  and  fears 

Our  onward  course  must  be  ; 
But  only  let  that  path  of  tears 

Lead  us,  at  last,  to  Thee  ! 

Thou  art  gone  up  on  high  : 

But  Thou  shalt  come  again 
With  all  the  bright  ones  of  the  sky 

Attendant  in  Thy  train. 
Oh  !  by  Thy  saving  power 

So  make  us  live  and  die, 
That  we  may  stand,  in  that  dread  hour, 

At  Thy  right  hand  on  high  ! 

Emma  Tohe.    1351. 


70  The  Book  of  Praise. 


LXVl 


Thou,  who  didst  stoop  below 

To  drain  the  cup  of  woe 
And  wear  the  form  of  frail  mortahty, 

Thy  blessed  labours  done, 

Thy  crown  of  victory  won. 
Hast  pass'd  from  earth,  pass'd  to  Thy  home  on 
high. 

It  was  no  path  of  flowers 

Through  this  dark  world  of  ours. 
Beloved  of  the  Father,  Thou  didst  tread  : 

And  shall  we  in  dismay 

Shrink  from  the  narrow  way, 
When  clouds  and  darkness  are  around  it  spread  ? 

O  Thou,  who  art  our  life, 

Be  with  us  through  the  strife  ! 
Thy  own  meek  head  by  rudest  storms  was  bowed  ; 

Raise  Thou  our  eyes  above, 

To  see  a  Father  s  love 
Beam,  like  a  bow  of  promise,  through  the  cloud. 

E'en  through  the  awful  gloom 
Which  hovers  o'er  the  tomb, 
That  light  of  love  our  guiding  star  shall  be  : 
Our  spirits  shall  not  dread 
^he  shadowy  way  to  tread. 
Friend,  Guardian,  Saviour  I    which   doth  lead   to 
Thee. 

S 11  sail  L.  Miles.  [1840.] 


Christ  A  sc ended.  7 1 

LXVII. 

To  Him,  who  for  our  sins  was  slain, 
To  Him,  for  all  His  dying  pain, 

Sing  we  Hallelujah  ! 
To  Him,  the  Lamb  our  sacrifice, 
Who  gave  His  soul  our  ransom-price, 

Sing  we  Hallelujah  ! 

To  Him,  who  died  that  we  might  die 
To  sin,  and  live  with  Him  on  high, 

Sing  we  Hallelujah  ! 
To  Him,  who  rose  that  we  might  rise 
And  reign  with  Him  beyond  the  skies, 

Sing  we  Hallelujah  ! 

To  Him,  who  now  for  us  doth  plead 
And  helpeth  us  in  all  our  need, 

Sing  we  Hallelujah  ! 
To  Him,  who  doth  prepare  on  high 
Our  home  in  immortality. 

Sing  we  Hallelujah ! 

To  Him  be  glory  evermore  ; 

Ye  heavenly  hosts,  your  Lord  adore  ; 

Sing  we  Hallelujah  ! 
To  Father,  Son,  and  Holy  Ghost, 
One  God  most  great,  our  joy  and  boast. 

Sing  we  Hallelujah  ! 

Arthur  Tozer  Rtissdl.  1851 

Lxvur, 
Saviour,  when  in  du^t  to  Thee 
Low  we  bend  the  adoring  knee  ; 
When  repentant  to  the  skies 
Scarce  we  lift  our  weeping  eyes  ; 


72  The  Book  of  Praise. 

Oh  !  by  all  the  pains  and  woe 
Suffered  once  for  man  below, 
Bending  from  Thy  throne  on  high, 
Hear  our  solemn  Litany  ! 

By  Thy  helpless  infant  years. 
By  Thy  life  of  want  and  tears, 
By  Thy  days  of  sore  distress 
In  the  savage  wilderness  ; 
By  the  dread  mysterious  hour 
Of  the  insulting  tempter's  power  ; 
Turn,  oh  !  turn  a  favouring  eye, 
Hear  our  solemn  Litany  ! 

By  the  sacred  griefs  that  wept 
O'er  the  grave  where  Lazarus  slept  ; 
By  the  boding  tears  that  flowed 
Over  Salem's  lov'd  abode  ; 
By  the  anguish'd  sigh  that  told 
Treachery  lurk'd  within  Thy  fold  ; 
From  Thy  seat  above  the  sky. 
Hear  our  solemn  Litany  ! 

By  Thine  hour  of  dire  despair  ; 
By  Thine  agony  of  prayer  ; 
By  the  cross,  the  nail,  the  thorn, 
Piercing  spear,  and  torturing  scorn  ; 
By  the  gloom  that  veil'd  the  skies 
O'er  the  dreadful  sacrifice  ; 
Listen  to  our  humble  cr}^, 
Hear  our  solemn  Litany  ! 

By  Thy  deep  expiring  groan  ; 
By  the  sad  sepulchral  stone  ; 
By  the  vault,  whose  dark  abode 
Held  in  vain  the  risincf  God  ; 


Christ  Asce7ided.  73 

Oh  !  from  earth  to  heaven  restored, 
Mighty  re-ascended  Lord, 
Listen,  Hsten  to  the  cry 
Of  our  solemn  Litany  ! 

Sir  Robe7't  Grant.    1 8 1 5 . 

LXIX. 

Saviour,  who,  exalted  high 
In  Thy  Father's  majesty, 
Yet  vouchsaf'st  Thyself  to  show 
To  Thy  faithful  flock  below  ; 
Foretaste  of  that  blissful  sight, 
When,  arrayed  in  glorious  light, 
Beaming  with  paternal  grace. 
They  shall  see  Thee  face  to  face  : 
Saviour,  though  this  earthly  shroud 
Now  my  mortal  vision  cloud. 
Still  Thy  presence  let  me  see, 
Manifest  Thyself  to  me  ! 

Son  of  God,  to  Thee  I  cry : 

By  the  holy  mystery 

Of  Thy  dwelling  here  on  earth, 

By  thy  pure  and  holy  birth. 

Offspring  of  the  Virgin's  womb  ; 

By  the  light,  through  midnight  gloom 

Bursting  on  the  shepherds'  gaze  ; 

By  the  angels'  song  of  praise  : 

By  the  leading  of  the  star, 

The  Eastern  sages'  guide  from  far  ; 

By  their  gifts,  with  worship  meet 

Offer'd  at  thy  infant  feet : 

Lord,  Thy  presence  let  me  see, 

Manifest  Thyself  to  me  ! 

Man  of  sorrows,  hear  me  cry  ! 
By  Thy  great  humility  ; 


74  The  Book  of  Praise. 

By  Thy  meekly-bowed  head  ; 
By  Thy  gentle  spirit,  fled 
To  the  mansions  of  the  dead  ; 
By  the  wound,  whence  issuing  flow'd 
Water  mingled  with  Thy  blood  ; 
By  Thy  breathless  body,  laid 
In  the  rock's  sepulchral  shade. 
Where  man  ne'er  before  reposed, 
Straightly  watch'd,  securely  closed  ; 
Lord,  Thy  presence  let  me  see, 
Manifest  Thyself  to  me ! 

Lord  of  Glory,  God  most  high, 
Man  exalted  to  the  sky, 
God  and  man,  to  Thee  I  cry  ! 
With  Thy  love  my  bosom  fill, 
.     Prompt  me  to  perform  Thy  will ; 
Grant  me,  v/hat  Thou  bidd'st,  to  do  ; 
What  Thou  proffer'st  to  pursue  : 
So  may  He,  the  Sire  above, 
Guard  me  with  a  Parent's  love  ! 
So  may  He,  the  Spirit  blest. 
Whisper  comfort,  hope,  and  rest ! 
So  mayst  Thou,  my  Saviour,  come, 
Make  this  froward  heart  Thy  home, 
And  manifest  Thyself  to  me 
In  the  Triune  Deity  ! 

Bishop  Richard  Mant.  183: 

LXX. 

Jesu  !  behold,  the  Wise  from  far, 
Led  to  Thy  cradle  by  a  star, 

Bring  gifts  to  Thee,  their  God  and  King  ! 
O  guide  us  by  Thy  light,  that  we 
The  way  may  find,  and  still  to  Thee 

Our  hearts,  our  all,  for  tribute  bring  ! 


Christ  Ascotded.  75 

Jesu  !  the  pure,  the  spotless  Lamb, 
Who  to  the  Temple  humbly  came. 

Duteous,  the  legal  rites  to  pay  I 
O  make  our  proud,  our  stubborn  will 
All  Thy  wise,  gracious  laws  fulfil, 

Whate'er  rebellious  nature  say  ! 

Jesu  !  who  on  the  fatal  wood 

Pour'dst  out  Thy  life's  last  drop  of  blood, 

Nailed  to  the  accursed  shameful  cross  ! 
O  may  we  bless  Thy  love,  and  be 
Ready,  dear  Lord,  to  bear  for  thee 

All  shame,  all  grief,  all  pain,  and  loss  I 

Jesu  I  who,  by  Thine  own  love  slain. 
By  Thine  own  Power  took'st  life  again. 

And  Conqueror  from  the  grave  didst  rise  I 
O  may  Thy  death  our  souls  revi\  e, 
And  ev'n  on  earth  a  new  life  give, 

A  glorious  life,  that  never  dies  ! 

Jesu  !  who  to  Thy  heaven  again 
Return'dst  in  triumph,  there  to  reign, 

Of  men  and  angels  sovereign  king  I 
O  may  our  parting  souls  take  flight 
Up  to  that  land  of  joy  and  light, 

And  there  for  ever  grateful  sing  ! 

All  glory  to  the  sacred  Three, 
One  undivided  Deity  ! 

All  honour,  power,  and  love,  and  praise  ! 
Still  may  Thy  blessed  Name  shine  bright 
In  beams  of  uncreated  light, 

Crown'd  with  its  own  eternal  rays  ! 

Variation  frovi  John  Austin.  166S. 
I>y  John  Wesley  J  1739- 


76  The  Book  of  Praise, 


LXXT. 

Hail,  Thou  once  despised  Jesus, 

Hail,  thou  Galilean  king  ! 
Thou  didst  suffer  to  release  us, 

Thou  didst  free  salvation  bring  : 
Hail,  Thou  agonizing  Saviour, 

Bearer  of  our  sin  and  shame  ; 
By  Thy  merits  we  find  favour  ; 

Life  is  given  through  Thy  Name  ! 

Paschal  Lamb,  by  God  appointed, 

All  our  sins  were  on  Thee  laid  ; 
By  Almighty  Love  anointed. 

Thou  hast  full  atonement  made  : 
All  Thy  people  are  forgiven 

Through  the  virtue  of  Thy  Blood  \ 
Opened  is  the  gate  of  Heaven  ; 

Peace  is  made  'twixt  man  and  God. 

Jesus,  hail !  enthroned  in  glory, 

There  for  ever  to  abide  ; 
All  the  heavenly  hosts  adore  Thee, 

Seated  at  Thy  Father's  side. 
There  for  sinners  Thou  art  pleading  ; 

There  Thou  dost  our  place  prepare  ; 
Ever  for  us  interceding 

Till  in  glory  we  appear. 

Worship,  honour,  power,  and  blessing. 

Thou  art  worthy  to  receive  ; 
Loudest  praises,  without  ceasing, 

Meet  it  is  for  us  to  give  ! 
Help,  ye  bright  angehc  spirits. 

Bring  your  sweetest,  noblest  lays  ; 
Help  to  sing  our  Saviour's  merits. 

Help  to  chant  Immanuel's  praise  ! 


Christ  Ascended.  ^7 

Soon  we  shall,  with  those  in  glory, 

His  transcendent  grace  relate  ; 
Gladly  sing  th'  amazing  story 

Of  His  dying  love  so  great  : 
In  that  blessed  contemplation 

We  for  evermore  shall  dwell, 
Crown'd  with  bliss  and  consolation, 

Such  as  none  below  can  tell. 

John  Bakewell.  1 760. 

LXXII. 

Join  all  the  glorious  names 

Of  wisdom,  love,  and  power, 

That  ever  mortals  knew, 

That  angels  ever  bore  ; 
All  are  too  mean  to  speak  His  worth, 
Too  mean  to  set  my  Saviour  forth. 

But  oh  !  what  gentle  terms. 

What  condescending  ways. 

Doth  our  Redeemer  use 

To  teach  His  heavenly  grace  ! 
Mine  eyes  with  joy  and  wonder  see 
What  forms  of  love  He  bears  for  me. 

Array'd  in  mortal  flesh 

He  like  an  Angel  stands. 

And  holds  the  promises 

And  pardons  in  His  hands  ; 
Commission'd  from  His  Father's  throne 
To  make  His  grace  to  mortals  known. 

Great  Prophet  of  my  God, 

My  tongue  would  bless  Thy  Name  ; 

By  Thee  the  joyful  news 

Of  our  salvation  came  ; 


78  The  Book  of  Praise. 

The  joyful  news  of  sins  forgiven. 

Of  hell  subdued,  and  peace  with  Heaven, 

Be  Thou  my  Counsellor, 
My  Pattern,  and  my  Guide  ; 
And  through  this  desert  land 
Still  keep  me  near  Thy  side  : 
Oh,  let  my  feet  ne'er  run  astray, 
Nor  rove,  nor  seek  the  crooked  way  ! 

I  love  my  Shepherd's  voice  ; 
His  watchful  eyes  shall  keep 
My  wandering  soul  among 
The  thousands  of  His  sheep  : 
He  feeds  His  flock,  He  calls  their  names, 
His  bosom  bears  the  tender  lambs. 

To  this  dear  Surety's  hand 

Will  I  commit  my  cause  ; 

He  answers  and  fulfils 

His  Father's  broken  laws  : 
Behold  my  soul  at  freedom  set ; 
My  Surety  paid  the  dreadful  debt. 

Jesus,  my  great  High  Priest, 

Offer  d  His  Blood  and  died  ; 

My  guilty  conscience  seeks 

No  sacrifice  beside  : 
His  powerful  Blood  did  once  atone, 
And  now  it  pleads  before  the  Throne. 

]\Iy  advocate  appears 

For  my  defence  on  high  ; 

The  Father  bows  His  ears 

And  lays  His  thunder  by  : 
Not  all  that  hell  or  sin  can  say 
Shall  turn  His  heart,  His  love  awav. 


Christ  Ascended.  ^(^ 

My  dear  Almighty  Lord, 

My  Conqueror  and  my  King, 

Thy  sceptre  and  Thy  sword, 

Thy  reigning  grace,  I  sing  : 
Thine  is  the  power :  behold  I  sit 
In  willing  bonds  before  Thy  feet ! 

Now  let  my  soul  arise, 

And  tread  the  Tempter  down  ; 

My  Captain  leads  me  forth 

To  conquest  and  a  crown  ; 
A  feeble  saint  shall  win  the  day, 
Though  death  and  hell  obstruct  the  way. 

Should  all  the  hosts  of  death 

And  powers  of  hell  unknown 

Put  their  most  dreadful  forms 

Of  rage  and  mischief  on, 
I  shall  be  safe  ;  for  Christ  displays 
Superior  power,  and  guardian  grace. 

Isaac  Watts.  1709. 

LXXIII. 

Beyond  the  glittering  starry  globe 

P'ar  as  th'  eternal  hills. 
There,  in  the  boundless  worlds  of  light, 

Our  great  Redeemer  dwells. 

Immortal  angels,  bright  and  fair, 

In  countless  armies  shine. 
At  His  right  hand,  with  golden  harps, 

To  offer  songs  divine. 

"  Hail  !  Prince,"  they  cry,  "  for  ever  hail  I 

Whose  unexampled  love 
Moved  Thee  to  quit  these  glorious  realms 

And  royalties  above  !" 


8o  The  Book  of  Praise. 

While  Thou  didst  condescend  on  earth 

To  suffer  rude  disdain, 
They  cast  their  honours  at  Thy  feet, 

And  waited  on  Thy  train. 

Blest  Angels,  who  adoring  wait 
Around  the  Saviour's  Throne, 

Oh  !  tell  us,  for  your  eyes  have  seen, 
The  wonders  He  has  done. 

Ye  saw  Him,  when  the  heavens  and  eartli. 

A  chaos  first,  He  made, 
And  night  involved  the  formless  deep 

In  her  tremendous  shade. 

And  when,  amidst  the  darksome  void, 

He  bade  the  light  arise. 
And  kindled  up  those  shining  orbs 

That  now  adorn  the  skies. 

Ye  saw  ; — and  in  melodious  song 

Your  powerful  voices  raise. 
While  all  the  new-born  worlds  resound 

Their  great  Creator's  praise. 

And,  when  on  earth  He  deign'd  to  dwell, 

In  mortal  flesh  array'd. 
Ye  wondering  saw  the  Holy  Child 

In  Bethlehem's  stable  laid. 

WTiile  in  the  lowly  crib  reposed, 

His  Mother's  tender  care. 
Ye  stood  around  His  homely  bed. 

And  watch'd  His  slumbers  there. 


Christ  Ascended.  1 

When  fasting  in  the  desert  long 

His  spotless  soul  was  tried, 
Ye  saw  Him  there  the  Tempter  foil, 

And  soon  His  wants  supplied. 

Ye  heard  what  gracious  words  He  spoke, 

The  hearts  of  men  to  win  ; 
And  saw,  well  pleased,  the  listening  crowd 

Drink  the  sweet  doctrine  in  ; 

Beheld  diseases,  tempests,  death. 

His  sovereign  word  obey, 
And  how,  on  dark  benighted  minds, 

He  poured  eternal  day. 

Saw  Him,  from  busy  scenes  retired 

To  spend  the  midnight  hours, 
While  pure  devotion  fill'd  His  soul 

With  all  her  rapturous  powers. 

When  on  the  sacred  mount  He  shone. 

In  His  own  light  arra/d, 
Ye  saw,  and  own'd  your  Sovereign  there. 

And  your  just  homage  paid  ; 

Saw,  when  o'er  Salem's  fearful  doom 

He  shed  the  tender  tear  ; 
And  how,  to  all  His  gracious  calls, 

She  turned  the  deafened  ear. 

In  all  his  toils,  and  dangers  too. 

Ye  did  His  steps  attend  ; 
Oft  paused,  and  wondered,  how  at  last 

This  scene  of  love  would  end. 
G 


The  Book  of  Praise. 

And  when  the  Powers  of  Hell  combined 

To  fill  His  cup  of  woe, 
Your  pitying  eyes  beheld  His  tears 

In  bloody  anguish  flow. 

As  on  the  torturing  Cross  He  hung, 

And  darkness  veil'd  the  sky. 
Ye  saw,  aghast,  that  awful  sight, 

The  Lord  of  Glory  die  ! 

Astonish'd,  here  ye  search  and  learn 
High  Heaven's  mysterious  ways, 

That  thus  to  guilty  dying  man 
Immortal  life  conveys. 

Anon  He  bursts  the  gates  of  death, 

Subdues  the  tyrant's  power  : 
Ye  saw  th'  illustrious  Conqueror  rise, 

And  hailed  the  blissful  hour, 

Tended  His  chariot  up  the  sky, 

And  bore  Him  to  His  Throne  ; 
Then  swept  your  golden  harps,  and  cried 

"The  glorious  work  is  done  !" 

My  soul  the  joyful  triumph  feels. 

And  thinks  the  moments  long, 
Ere  she  her  Saviour's  glory  sees, 

And  joins  your  rapturous  song. 

James  Fa7ich  and  Daniel  Turner.  [1791.] 


Chrisfs  Kingdom  and  yudgmenf.  83 


VI  r. 


CHRIST'S   KINGDOM   AND   JUDGMENT. 

"And  He  shall  come  again  ivith  Glory,  to  judge  both  the 
quick  and  the  dead :  7vhose  Kingdom  shall  have  no 
end:' 

LXXIV. 

Now  is  the  hour  of  darkness  past  ; 

Christ  has  assumed  His  reigning  power; 
Behold  the  great  accuser  cast 

Down  from  the  skies  to  rise  no  more. 

'Twas  by  Thy  Blood,  immortal  Lamb, 
Thine  armies  trod  the  Tempter  down  ; 

'Twas  by  Thy  word  and  powerful  Name 
They  gained  the  battle  and  renown. 

Rejoice,  ye  heavens  !  let  cvciy  star 
Shine  with  new  glories  round  the  sky  ! 

Saints,  while  ye  sing  the  heavenly  war, 
Raise  your  Deliverers  Name  on  high  I 

Isaac  Walls .  1709. 


LXXV. 

Rejoice,  the  Lord  is  King, 

Your  Lord  and  King  adore  ; 
Mortals,  give  thanks  and  sing, 
And  triumph  evermore  : 
Lift  up  your  heart,  lift  up  your  voice  ; 
Rejoice,  again  I  say,  rejoice. 
G  ? 


84  The  Book  of  Praise. 

Jesus  the  Saviour  reigns, 

The  God  of  truth  and  love  ; 
When  he  had  purged  our  stains, 
He  took  His  seat  above  : 
Lift  up  your  heart,  hft  up  your  voice  ; 
Rejoice,  again  I  say,  rejoice. 

His  kingdom  cannot  fail ; 

He  rules  o'er  earth  and  Heaven  ; 
The  keys  of  death  and  hell 
Are  to  our  Jesus  given  : 
Lift  up  your  heart,  lift  up  your  voice  ; 
Rejoice,  again  I  say,  rejoice. 

He  sits  at  God's  right  hand. 

Till  all  His  foes  submit, 
And  bow  to  His  command, 
And  fall  beneath  His  feet  : 
Lift  up  your  heart,  lift  up  your  voice  ; 
Rejoice,  again  I  say,  rejoice. 

He  all  His  foes  shall  quell, 
Shall  all  our  sins  destroy, 
And  every  bosom  swell 
With  pure  seraphick  joy  : 
Lift  up  your  heart,  lift  up  your  voice, 
Rejoice,  again  I  say.  Rejoice. 

Rejoice  in  glorious  hope  ; 

Jesus  the  Judge  shall  come. 
And  take  His  servants  up 
To  their  eternal  home  : 
We  soon  shall  hear  th'  archangel's  voice, 
The  Trump  of  God  shall  sound,  rejoice. 

Charles  Wesley.  1745, 


Chris fs  Kingdo7n  and  Judgment.  85 

LXXVI. 

The  Lord  is  King  !  lift  up  thy  voice, 
O  earth,  and  all  ye  heavens,  rejoice  ! 
From  world  to  world  the  joy  shall  ring, 
The  Lord  Omnipotent  is  King. 

The  Lord  is  King  !  who  then  shall  dare 
Resist  His  will,  distrust  His  care, 
Or  murmur  at  His  wise  decrees, 
Or  doubt  His  royal  promises  ? 

The  Lord  is  King !  Child  of  the  dust, 
The  Judge  of  all  the  earth  is  just : 
Holy  and  true  are  all  His  ways  : 
Let  every  creature  speak  His  praise. 

He  reigns  !  ye  saints,  exalt  your  strains  ; 
Your  God  is  King,  your  Father  reigns  ; 
And  He  is  at  the  Father's  side, 
The  ]Man  of  Love,  the  Crucified. 

Come,  make  your  wants,  your  burdens  known, 
He  will  present  them  at  the  Throne ; 
And  angel  bands  are  waiting  there 
His  messages  of  love  to  bear. 

O,  when  His  wisdom  can  mistake. 
His  might  decay.  His  love- forsake. 
Then  may  His  children  cease  to  sing. 
The  Lord  Omnipotent  is  King. 

Alike  pervaded  by  His  eye. 

All  parts  of  His  dominion  lie  ; 

This  world  of  ours,  and  worlds  unseen  ; 

And  thin  the  boundary  between. 


86  The  Book  of  Praise. 

One  Lord,  one  empire,  all  secures  ; 
He  reigPxS,  and  life  and  death  are  yours  : 
Through  earth  and  heaven  one  song  shall  ring. 
The  Lord  Omnipotent  is  King. 

Josiah  Ccndci:    1824. 

1.XXVII. 

He,  V/ho  on  earth  as  man  was  known, 

And  bore  our  sins  and  pains, 
Now,  seated  on  th'  eternal  Throne, 

The  God  of  Glory  reigns. 

His  hands  the  wheels  of  Nature  guide 

With  an  unerring  skill. 
And  countless  worlds,  extended  wide, 

Obey  His  sovereign  will. 

While  harps  unnumbered  sound  His  praise 

In  yonder  world  above, 
His  saints  on  earth  admire  His  Avays 

And  glory  in  His  love. 

His  Righteousness,  to  faith  reveal' d, 
Wrought  out  for  guilty  worms, 

Affords  a  hiding-place  and  shield 
From  enemies  and  storms. 

This  land,  through  which  PI  is  pilgrims  go. 

Is  desolate  and  dry  ; 
But  streams  of  grace  from  Him  o'erflow, 

Their  thirst  to  satisfy. 

When  troubles,  like  a  burning  sun, 

Beat  heavy  on  their  head. 
To  this  Almighty  Rock  they  run^ 

And  find  a  pleasing  shade. 


Christ's  Kingdom  and  Judgment.  87 

How  glorious  He  !  how  happy  they 

In  such  a  glorious  Friend  ! 
Whose  love  secures  them  all  the  way, 

And  crowns  them  at  the  end. 

John  Newton.  1779. 

Lxxviir. 

The  Head  that  once  was  crovv-n'd  with  thorns. 

Is  crown'd  with  glory  now  ; 
A  royal  diadem  adorns 

The  mighty  Victor's  brow. 

The  highest  place  that  Heaven  affords 

Is  His,  is  His  by  right, 
The  King  of  kings,  and  Lord  of  lords. 

And  Heaven's  eternal  Light. 

The  joy  of  all  who  dwell  above, 

The  joy  of  all  below, 
To  whom  He  manifests  His  love. 

And  grants  His  Name  to  know. 

To  them  the  Cross,  with  all  its  shame. 

With  all  its  grace,  is  given  ; 
Their  name  an  everlasting  name. 

Their  joy  the  joy  of  Heaven. 

They  suffer  with  their  Lord  below, 

They  reign  with  Him  above, 
Their  prot^t  and  their  joy  to  know 

The  mystery  of  His  love. 

The  cross  He  bore  is  life  and  health, 
Though  shame  and  death  to  Him : 

His  people's  hope,  ?Iis  people's  wealth, 
Their  everlasting  theme. 

Thomas  Kelly.  182a 


88  The  Book  of  Praise. 


LXXIX. 

Hosanna  !  raise  the  pealing  hymn 

To  David's  Son  and  Lord  ; 
With  Cherubim  and  Seraphim 

Exalt  the  Incarnate  Word. 

Hosanna  !  Lord,  our  feeble  tongue 

No  lofty  strains  can  raise  : 
But  Thou  wilt  not  despise  the  young, 

Who  meekly  chant  Thy  praise. 

Hosanna  !  Sovereign,  Prophet,  Priest, 
How  vast  Thy  gifts,  how  free  ! 

Thy  Blood,  our  life  ;  Thy  word,  our  feast 
Thy  Name,  our  only  plea. 

Hosanna  !  Master,  lo  !  we  bring 
Our  offerings  to  Thy  Throne  ; 

Not  gold,  nor  myrrh,  nor  mortal  thing, 
But  hearts  to  be  Thine  own. 

Hosanna  I  once  Thy  gracious  ear 

Approved  a  lisping  throng  ; 
Be  gracious  still,  and  deign  to  hear 

Our  poor  but  grateful  song. 

O  Saviour,  if,  redeem'd  by  Thee, 

Thy  temple  we  behold, 
Hosannas  through  eternity 

We'll  sing  to  harps  of  gold. 

William  Hemy  Havergal.    1 833. 


Christ's  Kingdom  and  Judgment. 

LXXX. 

Psalm  LXXII. 

Hail  to  the  Lord's  Anointed, 

Great  David's  greater  Son  ! 
Hail,  in  the  time  appointed. 

His  reign  on  earth  begun  ! 
He  comes  to  break  oppression, 

To  let  the  captive  free. 
To  take  away  transgression, 

And  rule  in  equity. 

He  comes  with  succour  speedy, 

To  those  who  suffer  wrong  j 
To  help  the  poor  and  needy. 

And  bid  the  weak  be  strong  : 
To  give  them  songs  for  sighing. 

Their  darkness  turn  to  light, 
Whose  souls,  condemn'd  and  dying. 

Were  precious  in  His  sight. 

He  shall  come  down  like  showers 

Upon  the  fruitful  earth, 
And  love,  joy,  hope,  like  flowers, 

Spring  in  His  path  to  birth  ; 
Before  Him,  on  the  mountains, 

Shall  peace,  the  herald,  go, 
And  righteousness,  in  fountains, 

F'rom  hill  to  valley  flow. 

Arabia's  desert-ranger 

To  Him  shall  bow  the  knee  ; 
The  Ethiopian  stranger 

His  gloiy  come  to  see  : 


90  The  Book  of  Praise. 

With  offerings  of  devotion 

Ships  from  the  Isles  shall  meet, 

To  pour  the  wealth  of  ocean 
In  tribute  at  His  feet. 


Kings  shall  fall  down  before  Him, 
And  gold  and  incense  bring  ; 

All  nations  shall  adore  Him, 
His  praise  all  people  sing  ; 

For  He  shall  have  dominion 
O'er  river,  sea,  and  shore ; 

Far  as  the  eagle's  pinion, 


For  Him  shall  prayer  unceasing. 

And  daily  vov/s  ascend, 
His  kingdom  still  increasing, 

A  kingdom  without  end  : 
The  mountain-dews  shall  nourish 

A  seed,  in  weakness  sown, 
Whose  fruit  shall  spread  and  flourish, 

And  shake  like  Lebanon. 

O'er  every  foe  victorious 

He  on  His  throne  shall  rest, 
From  age  to  age  more  glorious, 

All  blessing  and  all-blest : 
The  tide  of  time  shall  never 

His  covenant  remove  ; 
His  Name  shall  stand  for  ever. 

That  Name  to  us  is  Love. 

James  Moii  fgomcry.  1822 


Christ 's  Kingdom  and  Judgment.  9 1 


LXXXT. 

Behold  !  the  Mountain  of  the  Lord 

In  latter  days  shall  rise 
On  mountain  tops,  above  the  hills, 

And  draw  the  wondering  eyes. 

To  this  the  joyful  nations  round, 
All  tribes  and  tongues  shall  flow  ; 

Up  to  the  hill  of  God,  they'll  say, 
And  to  His  house  well  go. 

The  beam  that  shines  from  Zion  hill 

Shall  lighten  every  land  ; 
The  King  who  reigns  in  Salem's  towers 

Shall  all  the  world  command. 

No  strife  shall  vex  Messiah's  reign, 

Or  mar  the  peaceful  years  ; 
To  ploughshares  men  shall  beat  their  swords, 

To  pruning-hooks  their  spears. 

No  longer  hosts  encountering  hosts 

Their  millions  slain  deplore  ; 
They  hang  the  trumpet  in  the  hall, 

And  study  war  no  more. 

Come,  then  !  O,  come,  from  every  land, 

To  worship  at  His  shrine  ; 
And,  walking  in  the  Light  of  God, 

With  holy  beauties  shine. 

Michael  Bruee.  1 768. 


92  The  Book  of  P7'aise. 

LXXXII. 

Psalm  LXXII. 

Jesus  shall  reign  where'er  the  snn 
Does  his  successive  journeys  run  ; 
His  kingdom  stretch  from  shore  to  shore, 
Till  moons  shall  wax  and  wane  no  more. 

For  Him  shall  endless  prayer  be  made, 
And  praises  throng  to  crown  His  Head  ; 
His  Name,  like  sweet  perfume,  shall  rise 
With  every  morning  sacrifice. 

People  and  realms  of  every  tongue 
Dwell  on  His  love  with  sweetest  song, 
And  infant  voices  shall  proclaim 
Their  early  blessings  on  His  Name. 

Blessings  abound  where'er  He  reigns  ; 
The  prisoner  leaps  to  lose  his  chains  ; 
The  weary  find  eternal  rest, 
And  all  the  sons  of  want  are  blest. 

Where  He  displays  His  healing  power, 
Death  and  the  curse  are  known  no  more  ; 
In  Him  the  tribes  of  Adam  boast 
More  blessings  than  their  father  lost. 

Let  every  creature  rise,  and  bring 
Peculiar  honours  to  our  King  ; 
Angels  descend  with  songs  again. 
And  earth  repeat  the  long  Amen  ! 

Isaac  Watts.  1719. 


Christ'' s  Kingdom  and  Judgment.  93 


LXXXIII. 

Psalm  LXXII. 

Great  God,  Whose  universal  sway 
The  known  and  unknown  worlds  obey, 
Now  give  the  kingdom  to  Thy  Son, 
Extend  His  power,  exalt  His  throne. 

As  rain  on  meadows  newly  mown, 
So  shall  He  send  His  influence  do\\  n  ; 
His  grace  on  fainting  souls  distils 
Like  heavenly  dew  on  thirsty  hills. 

The  heathen  lands,  that  lie  beneath 
The  shade  of  overspreading  death, 
Revive  at  His  first  dawning  light, 
And  deserts  blossom  at  the  sight. 

The  saints  shall  flourish  in  His  days, 
Dress'd  in  the  robes  of  joy  and  praise  ; 
Peace,  like  a  river,  from  His  Throne 
Shall  flow  to  nations  yet  unknown. 

Isaac  Watts.  1719. 


LXXXIV. 

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. 


94  The  Book  of  Praise. 

What  though  the  spicy  breezes 

Blow  soft  o'er  Ceylon's  isle ; 
Though  every  prospect  pleases. 

And  only  man  is  vile  ; 
In  vain  with  lavish  kindness 

The  gifts  of  God  are  strown ; 
The  heathen  in  his  blindness 

Bows  down  to  vrood  and  stone. 

Can  we,  whose  souls  are  lighted 

With  v.'isdom  from  on  high, 
Can  we  to  men  benighted 

The  lamp  of  life  deny  ? 
Salvation  1  O  salvation  ! 

The  joyful  sound  proclaim, 
Till  each  remotest  nation 

Has  learnt  Messiah's  Name. 

Waft,  waft,  ye  winds,  His  story, 

And  you,  ye  waters,  roll, 
Till  like  a  sea  of  glory 

It  spreads  from  pole  to  pole  ; 
Till  o'er  our  ransomed  nature 

The  Lamb  for  sinners  slain, 
Redeemer,  King,  Creator, 

In  bliss  returns  to  reign. 

Bishop  Begin  aid  Hebcr,  1823. 

LXXXV. 

On  the  mountain's  top  appearing, 
Lo  !  the  sacred  herald  stanSs, 

Welcome  news  to  Zion  bearing, 

Zion  long  in  hostile  lands  ; 

Mourning  captive  ! 

Cod  Himself  will  loose  thy  bands. 


Chris fs  Kingdom  and  yudgment.  95 

Has  thy  night  been  long  and  mournful? 

Have  thy  friends  unfai'.hful  proved  ? 
Have  thy  foes  been  proud  and  scornful, 

By  thy  sighs  and  tears  unmoved  ? 
Cease  thy  mourning ! 
Zion  still  is  well  beloved  ! 

God,  thy  God,  will  now  restore  thee ; 

He  Himself  appears  thy  friend  ; 
All  thy  foes  shall  flee  before  thee  ; 

Here  their  boasts  and  triumphs  end  : 
Great  deliverance 
Zion's  King  vouchsafes  to  send  I 

Enemies  no  more  shall  trouble  ; 

All  thy  vvTongs  shall  be  redress'd  ; 
For  thy  shame  thou  shalt  have  double, 
In  thy  Maker's  favour  bless'd  ; 
AH  thy  conflicts 
End  in  everlasting  rest  ! 

Thomas  Kelly.  1S04 

LXXXVI. 

O  house  of  Jacob,  come, 

And  walk  with  us  in  light : 

No  more  bewildered  roam 

Like  wanderers  in  the  night ; 
The  Hope  of  Israel  calls  you  near. 
And  Abraham's  Shield,  and  Isaac's  Fear. 

O  thou  by  tempests  toss'd, 

Reviled,  distress'd,  trod  down, 

In  every  region  cross'd, 

With  grief  familiar  grown, 
Scattered  and  abject,  peel'd,  forlorn. 
Thy  name  a  taunt,  thyself  a  scorn  ; 


96  The  Book  of  Praise. 

Though  thou  art  fill'd,  alas  ! 
And  drunk  with  misery, 
That  cup  begins  to  pass 
To  them  that  hated  thee : 
But  know,  we  honour  Israel's  name, 
Our  God  and  Abraham's  is  the  same. 


Rise,  Jacob,  from  thy  woes, 

And  thy  ^lessiah  see ; 

He,  Who  thy  fathers  chose, 

Has  not  forgotten  thee  : 
At  His  command,  we  bid  you  come  ; 
Her  Israel  Zion  welcomes  home. 

William  Hum,   1 8 1 3 . 


LXXXVII. 

The  Lord  of  Might  from  Sinai's  brow 
Gave  forth  His  voice  of  thunder; 

And  Israel  lay  on  earth  below, 
Outstretch'd  in  fear  and  wonder  : 

Beneath  His  feet  was  pitchy  night, 

And  at  His  left  hand  and  His  right 
The  rocks  were  rent  asunder. 

The  Lord  of  Love  on  Calvary, 
A  meek  and  suffering  stranger, 

Upraised  to  heaven  His  languid  eye 
In  nature's  hour  of  danger  ; 

For  us  He  bore  the  weight  of  woe, 

For  us  He  gave  His  blood  to  flow, 
And  met  His  Father's  angler. 


Christ's  Ki7igdoin  and  Judgfnent,  97 

The  Lord  of  Love,  the  Lord  of  Might, 

The  King  of  all  created, 
Shall  back  return  to  claim  His  right 

On  clouds  of  glory  seated  ; 
With  trumpet-sound,  and  angel-song, 
And  hallelujahs  loud  and  long. 

O'er  death  and  hell  defeated. 

Bishop  Reginald  Hcber.   1827. 


LXXXVIII. 

See,  the  ransomed  millions  stand, 
Palms  of  conquest  in  their  hand ; 
This  before  the  Throne  their  strain ; 
"  Hell  is  vanquish'd  ;  death  is  slain  ; 
"  Blessing,  honour,  glory,  might, 
"  Are  the  Conqueror's  native  right ; 
"  Thrones  and  powers  before  Him  fall ; 
"  Lamb  of  God,  and  Lord  of  all  ! " 

Hasten,  Lord  !  the  promised  hour  ; 
Come  in  glory  and  in  power  ; 
Still  Thy  foes  are  unsubdued  ; 
Nature  sighs  to  be  renewed  : 
Time  has  nearly  reach'd  its  sum. 
All  things  with  Thy  Bride  say.  Come  ; 
Jesus,  whom  all  worlds  adore. 
Come,  and  reign  for  evermore  ! 

J  OS  i ah  Conder.   1837— 1856. 

LXXXIX. 

Thou  Judge  of  quick  and  dead. 
Before  whose  bar  severe 
With  holy  joy,  or  guilty  dread, 
We  all  shall  soon  appear  ; 
H 


y8  The  Book  of  Praise, 

Our  cautioned  souls  prepare 
For  that  tremendous  Day, 
And  fill  us  now  with  watchful  care, 
And  stir  us  up  to  pray. 

To  pray,  and  wait  the  hour, 

The  awful  hour  unknown. 
When,  robed  in  majesty  and  power. 

Thou  shalt  from  Heaven  come  down, 

The  immortal  Son  of  Man, 

To  judge  the  human  race. 
With  all  Thy  Father's  dazzling  train, 

With  all  Thy  glorious  grace. 

To  damp  our  earthly  joys, 
To  increase  our  gracious  fears. 

For  ever  let  the  Archangel's  voice 
Be  sounding  in  our  ears  ; 
The  solemn  midnight  cry, 
"  Ye  Dead,  the  Judge  is  come  ! 

"Arise,  and  meet  Him  in  the  sky, 
"  And  meet  your  instant  doom  !" 

O  may  we  thus  be  found. 

Obedient  to  His  word, 
Attentive  to  the  trumpet's  sound, 

And  looking  for  our  Lord  : 

O  may  we  thus  insure 

Our  lot  among  the  blest, 
And  watch  a  moment,  to  secure 

An  everlasting  rest ! 

Charles  Wesley.  1749. 


Christ  V  Kingdom  and  Judgvient,  99 

xc. 

Lo !  He  comes,  with  clouds  descending, 

Once  for  favoured  sinners  slain : 
Thousand  thousand  saints  attending 

Swell  the  triumph  of  His  train  : 
Hallelujah  ! 

God  appears,  on  earth  to  reign  ! 

Every  eye  shall  now  behold  Him, 

Robed  in  dreadful  majesty  ; 
Those  who  set  at  nought  and  sold  Him, 

Pierced,  and  nailed  Him  to  the  Tree, 
Deeply  wailing, 

Shall  the  true  Messiah  see. 

Every  island,  sea,  and  mountain. 
Heaven  and  earth  shall  flee  away  ; 

All  who  hate  Him  must,  confounded, 
Hear  the  trump  proclaim  the  day  ; 

Come  to  judgment  ! 
Come  to  judgment,  come  away  ! 

Now  Redemption,  long  expected, 

See  in  solemn  pomp  appear  ! 
All  His  saints,  by  man  rejected, 

Now  shall  meet  Him  in  the  air  ; 
Hallelujah  ! 

See  the  day  of  God  appear  ! 

Answer  Thine  own  Bride  and  Spirit ; 

Hasten,  Lord,  the  general  doom  ; 
The  new  Heaven  and  earth  t'  inhcri: 
Take  Thy  pining  exiles  home  : 

All  creation 
Travails,  groans,  and  bids  Thee  come  ! 
H  2 


loo  The  Book  of  Praise. 

Yea,  Amen  !  let  all  adore  Thee, 

High  on  Thine  eternal  throne  : 
Saviour,  take  the  power  and  glory  ; 
Claim  the  kingdom  for  Thine  own  : 

O,  come  quickly, 
Everlasting  God,  come  down  ! 

ya?-iation  by  Martin  Madan.  1760. 
From  Charles  Wesley.     1758. 
Afid  John  Cennick.     1752. 

xci. 

Lo  !  He  com.es  with  clouds  descending  ! 

Hark  !  the  trump  of  God  is  blown, 
And  th'  Archangel's  voice  attending 

Makes  the  high  procession  known  : 
Sons  of  Adam  ! 
Rise,  and  stand  before  your  God  ! 

Crowns  and  sceptres  fall  before  Him, 
Kings  and  conquerors  own  His  sway  ; 

Haughtiest  monarchs  now  adore  Him, 
While  they  see  His  lightnings  play  : 
How  triumphant 

Is  the  world's  Redeemer  now  ! 

Hear  His  voice,  as  mighty  thunder 

Sounding  in  eternal  roar. 
While  its  echo  rends  in  sunder 

Rocks  and  mountains,  sea  and  shore  *. 
Hark !  His  accents 
Through  th'  unfathomed  deep  resound  ! 

"  Come,  Lord  Jesus  !  O  come  quickly  !" 

Oft  has  prayed  the  mourning  Bride  : 
"  Lo  !"  He  answers,  "  I  come  quickly  !" 


Christ  V  Kingdom  and  yiidgment. 

Who  Thy  coming  may  abide  ? 
All  who  loved  Him, 
All  who  long'd  to  see  His  day. 

"  Come,"  He  saith,  "  ye  heirs  of  glory  ; 

'*  Come,  ye  purchase  of  my  blood  ; 
"  Claim  the  Kingdom  now  before  you, 

"  Rise,  and  fill  the  mount  of  God, 
*'  Fix'd  for  ever 
"Where  the  Lamb  on  Sion  stands." 

See  !  ten  thousand  burning  seraphs 
From  their  thrones  as  lightnings  fly  ; 

"  Take,'  they  cry,  "  your  seats  above  us, 
"  Nearest  Him  that  rules  the  sky  !" 
Patient  sufferers. 

How  rewarded  are  ye  now  ! 

Now  their  trials  all  are  ended  : 
Now  the  dubious  warfare's  o'er  ; 

Joy  no  more  with  sorrow  blended, 
They  shall  sigh  and  weep  no  more  ; 
God  for  ever 

Wipes  the  tear  from  every  eye. 

Through  His  passion  all  victorious 
Now  they  drink  immortal  wine  ; 

In  Emmanuel's  likeness  glorious 
As  the  firmament  they  shine  ; 
Shine  for  ever, 

With  the  bright  and  morning  Star. 

Shout  aloud,  ye  ethereal  choirs  ! 

Triumph  in  Jehovah's  praiise  ! 
Kindle  all  your  heavenly  fires, 

All  your  palms  of  victoiy  raise  ! 
Shout  His  conquests. 
Shout  salvation  to  the  Lamb  ! 


lOr 


102  The  Book  of  Praise. 

In  full  triumph  see  them  marching 
Through  the  gates  of  massy  light, 

While  the  City  walls  are  sparkling 
With  meridian  glory  bright  ; 
O  how  lovely 

Are  the  dwellings  of  the  Lamb  ! 

Hosts  angelic  all  adore  Him 

Circling  round  His  orient  seat ; 
Elders  cast  their  crowns  before  Him. 

Fall  and  worship  at  His  feet ; 
O  how  holy 
And  how  reverend  is  Thy  Name  ! 

Hail,  Thou  Alpha  and  Omega  ! 
First  and  Last,  of  all  alone  ! 
He  that  is,  and  was,  and  shall  be, 
And  beside  whom  there  is  none  ! 
Take  the  Glory, 
Great  Eternal  Three  m  One  ! 

Thomas  Olii  'ers.  [1757.] 


XCII. 

Dies  ircB,  dies  ilia. 

Day  of  anger,  that  dread  Day 
Shall  the  Sign  in  Heaven  display, 
And  the  Earth  in  ashes  lay. 

O  what  trembling  shall  appear, 
When  His  coming  shall  be  near. 
Who  shall  all  things  strictly  clear  ! 

When  the  Trumpet  shall  command 
Through  the  tombs  of  every  land 
All  before  the  Throne  to  stand. 


Christ 's  Kingdom  and  Judgment.         1 03 

Death  shall  shrink  and  Nature  quake. 
When  all  creatures  shall  awake, 
Answer  to  tlieir  God  to  make. 


See  the  Book  divinely  penn'd, 
In  which  all  is  found  contain'd, 
Whence  the  world  shall  be  arraign'd  ! 

When  the  Judge  is  on  His  Throne, 
All  that's  hidden  shall  be  shown, 
Nought  unpubllsh'd  or  unknown  ! 

What  shall  I  before  Kim  say  ? 
How  shall  I  be  safe  that  day, 
When  the  righteous  scarcely  may  ? 

King  of  awful  majesty, 
Saving  sinners  graciously. 
Fount  of  mercy,  save  Thou  me  ! 

Leave  me  not,  my  Saviour,  one 
For  whose  soul  Thy  course  was  run. 
Lest  I  be  that  day  undone. 

Thou  didst  toil  my  soul  to  gain  ; 
Didst  redeem  me  with  Thy  pain  ; 
Be  such  labour  not  in  vain  ! 

Thou  just  Judge  of  wrath  severe, 
C}rant  my  sins  remission  here. 
Ere  Thy  reckoning  day  appear. 

IMy  transgressions  grievous  are  ; 
Scarce  look  up  for  shame  I  dare ; 
Lord,  Thy  guilty  suppliant  spare  ! 


I04  The  Book  of  Praise. 

Thou  didst  heal  the  sinner's  grief. 
And  didst  hear  the  dying  thief : 
Even  I  may  hope  rehef. 

All  unworthy  is  my  prayer  ; 
Make  my  soul  Thy  mercy's  care, 
And  from  fire  eternal  spare  ! 

Place  me  with  Thy  sheep,  that  band 

Who  shall  separated  stand 

From  the  goats,  at  Thy  right  hand  ! 

When  Thy  voice  in  wrath  shall  say, 
Cursed  ones,  depart  away  ! 
Call  me  with  the  blest,  I  pray  ! 

Lord,  Thine  ear  in  mercy  bow  ! 
Broken  is  my  heart  and  low  : 
Guard  of  my  last  end  be  Thou ! 

In  that  day,  that  mournful  day, 
When  to  judgment  wakes  our  clay, 
Show  me  mercy,  Lord,  I  pray  ! 

Hen  ry  Alford.   184: 


VIIL 

^^ And  I  believe  in  the  Holy  Ghost,  the  Lord  and 
Giver  of  Lifej  who  proceedeth  from  the  Fatlier 
and  the  Son;  who  with  the  Father  and  the  Son 
together  is  worshipped  and  glorified j  who  spake 
by  the  Prophets^ 

XCIIT. 
When  God  of  old  came  down  from  Heaven, 

In  power  and  wrath  He  came  ; 
Before  His  feet  the  clouds  were  riven, 

Half  darkness  and  half  flame. 


God  the  Holy  Ghost.  105 

Around  the  trembling  mountain's  base 

The  prostrate  people  lay ; 
A  day  of  wrath,  and  not  of  grace  ; 

A  dim  and  dreadful  day. 

But,  when  He  came  the  second  time, 

He  came  in  power  and  love  ; 
Softer  than  gale  at  morning  prime, 

Hover'd  His  holy  Dove. 

The  fires,  that  rush'd  on  Sinai  down 

In  sudden  torrents  dread. 
Now  gently  light,  a  glorious  crown, 

On  every  sainted  head. 


Wing'd  with  the  sinner's  doom  : 
But  these,  like  tongues,  o'er  all  the  earth, 
Proclaiming  life  to  come. 

And,  as  on  Israel's  awe-struck  ear 

The  voice  exceeding  loud, 
The  trump,  that  angels  quake  to  hear, 

Thrill'd  from  the  deep  dark  cloud  ; 

So,  when  the  Spirit  of  our  God 
Came  down,  His  flock  to  find, 

A  voice  from  heaven  was  heard  abroad^ 
A  rushing  mighty  wind. 

Nor  doth  the  outward  ear  alone 

At  that  high  warning  start  ; 
Conscience  gives  back  th'  appalling  tone 

'Tis  echoed  in  the  heart. 


ic6  The  Book  of  Praise. 

It  fills  the  Church  of  God,  it  fills 
The  sinful  world  around  ; 

Only  in  stubborn  hearts  and  wills 
No  place  for  it  is  found. 

To  other  strains  our  souls  are  set  ; 

A  giddy  whirl  of  sin 
Fills  ear  and  brain,  and  will  not  let 

Heav'n's  harmonies  come  in. 


Come,  Lord  I  come  Wisdom,  LovC;,  and  Powei  ; 

Open  our  ears  to  hear  I 
Let  us  not  miss  the  accepted  hour  ; 

Save,  Lord,  by  lo\e  or  fear  I 

JohnKeble,  1827 


XCIV. 

Veni  Creato?-  Spirit  us. 

Come,  Holy  Ghost,  our  souls  inspire, 
And  lighten  with  celestial  fire  ; 
Thou  the  Anointing  Spirit  art, 
Who  dost  Thy  sevenfold  gifts  impart. 
Thy  blessed  unction  from  above 
Is  comfort,  life,  and  fire  of  love  : 
Enable  with  perpetual  light 
The  dulness  of  our  blinded  sight ; 
Anoint  and  cheer  our  soiled  face 
With  the  abundance  of  Thy  grace  ; 
Keep  far  our  foes  ;  give  peace  at  home  ; 
Where  Thou  art  guide,  no  ill  can  come  ; 
Teach  us  to  know  the  Father,  Son, 
And  Thee  of  Both,  to  be  but  One  : 


God  the  Holy  Ghost.  i  oy 

That,  through  the  ages  all  along, 
This  may  be  our  endless  song, 
"  Praise  to  Thy  Eternal  merit, 
*'  Father,  Son,  and  Holy  Spirit  I '' 
Amen ! 
Aii07t.  {Ordination  Se7'vice).  1662 

XCV, 

Vcni  Creator  Spiritus. 

Holy  Spirit,  gently  come, 
Raise  us  from  our  fallen  state, 
Y\x  Thy  everlasting  home 
In  the  hearts  Thou  didst  create  ! 

Gift  of  God  most  High  ! 
Visit  ever>'  troubled  breast  : 
Light  and  Life  and  Love  supply  ; 
Give  our  spints  perfect  rest  ! 

Heavenly  Unction  from  above, 
Comforter  of  v/eary  saints, 
Fountain,  Life,  and  Fire  of  Love, 
Hear,  and  answer  our  complaints  ! 

Thee  we  humbly  pray, 
Finger  of  the  Living  God, 
Now  Thy  sevenfold  grace  display. 
Shed  our  Saviour's  love  abroad  ! 

Now  Thy  cjuickening  influence  bring, 
On  our  spirits  sweetly  move  ; 
Open  every  mouth  to  sing 
Jesus'  everlasting  love  ! 
Lighten  every  heart ; 
Drive  our  enemies  away  ; 
Joy  and  peace  to  us  impart  ; 
Lead  us  in  the  heavenly  way  ! 


loS  The  Book  of  P raise. 

Take  the  things  of  Christ  and  show 
What  our  Lord  for  us  hath  done  ; 
May  we  God  the  Father  know 
Only  in  and  through  the  Son  : 

Nothing  will  we  fear, 
Though  to  wilds  and  deserts  driven, 
While  we  feel  Thy  Presence  near, 
Witnessing  our  sins  forgiven. 

Glory  be  to  God  alone, 
God,  whose  hand  created  all ! 
Glor>^  be  to  God  the  Son, 
W'ho  redeem'd  us  from  our  fall ! 

To  the  Holy  Ghost 
Equal  praise  and  glory  be, 
When  the  course  of  time  is  lost, 
Lost  in  wide  eternity  ! 

Willia7n  Hammond.  1 745, 


XCVI. 

Come,  Holy  Spirit,  heavenly  Dove, 
My  sinful  maladies  remove  ; 
Be  Thou  my  Light,  be  Thou  my  Guide, 
O'er  eveiy  thought  and  step  preside. 

The  light  of  truth  to  me  display, 
That  I  may  know  and  choose  my  way ; 
Plant  holy  fear  within  mine  heart. 
That  I  from  God  may  ne'er  depart. 

Conduct  me  safe,  conduct  me  far 
From  every  sin  and  hurtful  snare  ; 
Lead  me  to  God,  my  final  Rest, 
In  His  enjoyment  to  be  blest. 


God  the  Holy  Ghost.  109 

Lead  me  to  Christ,  the  Living  Way, 
Nor  let  me  from  His  pastures  stray  : 
Lead  me  to  Heaven,  the  seat  of  bHss, 
Where  pleasure  in  perfection  is. 

Lead  me  to  holiness,  the  road 
That  I  must  take  to  dwell  with  God  ; 
Lead  to  Thy  Word,  that  rules  must  give, 
And  sure  directions  how  to  live. 

Lead  me  to  means  of  grace,  where  I 
May  own  my  wants,  and  seek  supply : 
Lead  to  Thyself,  the  Spring  from  whence 
To  fetch  all  quickening  influence. 

Thus  I,  conducted  still  by  Thee, 
Of  God  a  child  beloved  shall  be, 
Here  to  His  family  pertain, 
Hereafter  with  Him  ever  reign, 

Simon  Browne.  1720. 


XCVII. 

Come,  Holy  Spirit,  heavenly  Dove, 
With  all  Thy  quickening  powers, 

Kindle  a  flame  of  sacred  love 
In  these  cold  hearts  of  ours. 

Look  how  we  grovel  here  below, 
Fond  of  these  trifling  toys  ; 

Our  souls  can  neither  fly  nor  go 
To  reach  eternal  joys  ! 

In  vain  we  tune  our  formal  songs, 
In  vain  we  strive  to  rise  ; 

Hosannas  languish  on  our  tongues. 
And  our  devotion  dies. 


no  TJie  Book  of  Praise. 

Dear  Lord,  and  shall  we  ever  lie 

At  this  poor  dying  rate  ? 
Our  love  so  faint,  so  cold  to  Thee, 

And  Thine  to  us  so  great ! 

Coine,  Holy  Spirit,  heavenly  Dove, 
With  all  Thy  quickening  powers  ! 

Come,  shed  abroad  a  Saviour's  love. 
And  that  shall  kindle  ours. 

Isaac  Watts    1709. 

xcviir. 

Come,  Holy  Spirit,  come 
Let  Thy  bright  beams  arise. 
Dispel  the  darkness  from  our  minds, 
And  open  all  our  eyes. 

Cheer  our  desponding  hearts, 
Thou  heavenly  Paraclete  ; 
Give  us  to  lie,  with  humble  hope 
At  our  Redeemer's  feet. 

Revive  our  drooping  faith. 
Our  doubts  and  fears  rem^ove^ 
And  kindle  in  our  breasts  the  flame 
Of  never-dying  love. 

Convince  us  of  our  sin. 
Then  lead  to  Jesus'  blood, 
And  to  our  wondering  view  reveal 
The  secret  love  of  God. 

Show  us  that  loving  Man 
That  rules  the  courts  of  bliss, 
The  Lord  of  hosts,  the  Mighty  God, 
The  Eternal  Prince  cf  Peace. 


God  the  Holy  Ghost.  1 1 1 

'Tis  Thine  to  cleanse  the  heart, 
To  sanctify  the  soul, 
To  pour  fresh  life  in  e\-ery  part, 
And  new-create  the  whole. 

Dwell  therefore  in  our  hearts, 
Our  minds  from  bondage  free  ; 
Then  we  shall  know,  and  praise,  and  love 
The  Father,  Son,  and  Thee  ! 

yoscJ)h  Hart.  1 759, 


XCIX. 

Lord  God  the  Holy  Ghost, 

In  this  accepted  hour, 
As  on  the  day  of  Pentecost, 

Descend  in  all  Thy  power  ! 

We  meet  with  one  accord 

In  our  appointed  place, 
And  wait  the  promise  of  our  Lord, 

The  Spirit  of  all  grace. 

Like  mighty  rushing  wind 

Upon  the  waves  beneath. 
Move  with  one  impulse  every  mind, 

One  soul,  one  feeling  breathe  : 

The  young,  the  old,  inspire 

With  wisdom  from  above, 
And  give  us  hearts  and  tongues  of  i\\•^ 

To  pray,  and  praise,  and  love. 

Spirit  of  Light,  explore 
And  chase  our  gloom  away, 
With  lustre  shining  more  and  more 
Unto  the  perfect  day  ! 


:  1 2  Tlie  Book  of  Pi^aise. 

Spirit  of  Truth,  be  Thou 
In  hfe  and  death  our  Guide  ! 
0  Spirit  of  adoption,  now 
May  we  be  sanctified  ! 

James  Montgo7nery.  1819. 


C. 

O  du  allersuste  Freiide.  (Paul  Gerhardt.) 

Holy  Ghost,  dispel  our  sadness, 
Pierce  the  clouds  of  sinful  night ; 

Come,  Thou  source  of  sweetest  gladness, 
Breathe  Thy  Life,  and  spread  Thy  Light  ! 

Loving  Spirit,  God  of  Peace  ! 

Great  Distributor  of  grace  ! 
Rest  upon  this  congregation, 
Hear,  O  hear  our  supplication  ! 

From  that  height  which  knovrs  no  measure 

As  a  gracious  shower  descend. 
Bringing  down  the  richest  treasure 

Men  can  wish,  or  God  can  send  ! 
O  Thou  Glory,  shining  down 
From  the  Father  and  the  Son, 

Grant  us  Thy  illumination  ! 

Rest  upon  this  congregation  ! 

Known  to  Thee  are  all  recesses 
Of  the  earth  and  spreading  skies  ; 

Every  sand  the  shore  possesses 
Thy  Omniscient  Mind  descries. 

Holy  Fountain  !  wash  us  clean 

Both  from  error  and  from  sin  ! 
Make  us  fly  what  Thou  refusest, 
And  delight  in  what  Thou  choosest ! 


God  the  Holy  Ghost.  1 13 

Manifest  Thy  love  for  ever-; 

Fence  us  in  on  every  side  ; 
In  distress  be  our  reliever, 

Guard  and  teach,  support  and  guide ! 
Let  Thy  kind  effectual  grace 
Turn  our  feet  from  evil  ways  ; 

Show  Thyself  our  new  Creator, 

And  conform  us  to  Thy  Nature  ! 

Be  our  Friend  on  each  occasion, 

God  !  omnipotent  to  save  ! 
When  we  die,  be  our  salvation, 

When  we're  buried,  be  our  grave  ! 
And,  when  from  the  grave  we  rise, 
Take  us  up  above  the  skies, 

Seat  us  with  Thy  saints  in  glory, 

There  for  ever  to  adore  Thee  ! 

Variation  by  A  21  gust  us  M.  Toplady.  1776. 
■"  From  John  Christian  Jacobi,  1725. 


cr. 

Holy  Spirit,  in  my  breast 
Grant  that  lively  Faith  may  rest. 
And  subdue  each  rebel  thought 
To  believe  what  Thou  hast  taught. 

When  around  my  sinking  soul 
Gathering  waves  of  sorrow  roll, 
Spirit  blest,  the  tempest  still, 
And  with  Hope  my  bosom  fill. 

I 


114  The  Book  of  Praise. 

Holy  Spirit,  from  my  mind 
Thought  and  wish  and  will  unkind, 
Deed  and  word  unkind  remo^'c, 
And  my  bosom  fill  with  love. 

Faith,  and  Hope,  and  Charity, 
Comforter,  descend  from  Thee  ; 
Thou  the  Anointing  Spirit  art, 
These  Thy  gifts  to  us  impart, 

Till  our  faith  be  lost  in  sight, 
Hope  be  swallowed  in  delight, 
And  love  return  to  dwell  with  Thee, 
In  the  threefold  Deity  ! 

Bishop  Richard  Afajit.  1837. 

CII. 

Full  of  weakness  and  of  sin, 

We  look  to  Thee  for  life : 
Lord,  Thy  gracious  work  begin. 

And  calm  the  inward  strife  ! 

Though  our  hearts  are  prone  to  stray, 

Be  Thou  a  constant  Friend  : 
Though  we  know  not  how  to  pray, 

Thy  saving  mercy  send  ! 

Let  Thy  Spirit,  gracious  Lord, 

Our  souls  with  love  inspire. 
Strength  and  confidence  afford, 

And  breathe  celestial  fire  ! 

Teach  us  first  to  feel  our  need, 

Then  all  that  need  supply  ; 
When  we  hunger,  deign  to  teed, 

And  hear  us  when  we  cry  ! 


Cod  the  Holy  Ghost.  r  1 3 

When  we  cleave  to  earthly  things, 

Send  Thy  reviving  grace  ; 
Raise  our  souls,  and  give  them  wings, 

To  reach  Thy  holy  place  ! 

Will  lam  Hlley  Bathurst.  1831 

cm. 

There  is  a  River,  deep  and  broad, 

Its  course  no  mortal  knows  ; 
It  fills  with  joy  the  Church  of  God, 

And  widens  as  it  flows. 

Clearer  than  crystal  is  the  stream. 

And  bright  with  endless  day  ; 
The  waves  with  every  blessing  teem, 

And  life  and  health  convey. 

Where'er  they  flow,  contentions  cease, 

And  love  and  meekness  reign  ; 
The  Lord  Himself  commands  the  peace, 

And  foes  conspire  in  vain. 

Along  the  shores,  angelic  bands 

Watch  every  moving  wave  ; 
With  holy  joy  their  breast  expands. 

When  men  the  waters  crave. 

To  them  distressed  souls  repair, 

The  Lord  invites  them  nigh  ; 
They  leave  their  cares  and  sorrows  there. 

They  drink,  and  never  die. 

Flow  on,  sweet  Stream,  more  largely  flow, 

The  earth  with  glory  fill ; 
Plow  on,  till  all  the  Saviour  know, 
And  all  obey  His  will. 

Williatn  Huni.    iSn. 
I  2 


1 1 6  The  Book  of  P) mse. 

CIV. 

There  is  a  Stream,  which  issues  forth 

From  God's  eternal  Throne, 
And  from  the  Lamb,  a  hving  stream 

Clear  as  the  crystal  stone. 

The  stream  doth  water  Paradise  ; 

It  makes  the  angels  sing  ; 
One  cordial  drop  revives  my  heart ; 

Hence  all  my  joys  do  spring. 

Such  joys  as  are  unspeakable, 

And  full  of  glory  too ; 
Such  hidden  manna,  hidden  pearls, 

As  worldlings  do  not  know. 

Eye  hath  not  seen,  nor  ear  hath  heard, 

From  fancy  'tis  concealed. 
What  Thou,  Lord,  hast  laid  up  for  Thine, 

And  hast  to  me  revealed. 

I  see  Thy  face,  I  hear  Thy  voice, 

I  taste  Thy  sweetest  love  : 
My  soul  doth  leap  :  but  O  for  wings, 

The  wings  of  Noah's  dove  ! 

Then  should  I  flee  far  hence  away, 

Leaving  this  world  of  sin  ! 
Then  should  my  Lord  put  forth  His  hand, 

And  kindly  take  me  in  ! 

Then  should  my  soul  with  angels  feast 

On  joys  that  always  last ! 
Blest  be  my  God,  the  God  of  joy, 

Who  gives  me  here  a  taste. 

yoh?i  Mason.  1683 


God  the  Holy  Ghost.  1 17 


cv. 

Ye  sons  of  earth,  prepare  the  plough, 

Break  up  your  fallow  ground  ; 
The  Sower  is  gone  forth  to  sow, 

And  scatter  blessings  round. 

The  seed  that  finds  a  stony  soil 

Shoots  forth  a  hasty  blade  ; 
But  ill  repays  the  sower's  toil, 

Soon  wither' d,  scorch'd,  and  dead. 

The  thorny  ground  is  sure  to  balk 

AlUiopes  of  harvest  there  ; 
We  find  a  tall  and  sickly  stalk, 

But  not  the  fruitful  ear. 

The  beaten  path  and  highway  side 

Receive  the  trust  in  vain  ; 
The  watchful  birds  the  spoil  divide, 

And  pick  up  all  the  grain. 

But  when  the  Lord  of  grace  and  power 

Has  bless'd  the  happy  field, 
How  plenteous  is  the  golden  store 

The  deep-wrought  furrows  yield  ! 

Father  of  mercies  !  we  have  need 

Of  Thy  preparing  grace  : 
Let  the  same  Hand,  that  gives  the  seed. 

Provide  a  fruitful  place  ! 

IVtlliavi  Cowper.  1779. 


1 1 8  The  Book  of  Praise. 

cvi. 

Psalm  XIX. 

Behold,  the  morning  sun 
Begins  his  glorious  way  ; 
His  beams  through  all  the  nations  run, 
And  life  and  light  convey. 

But  where  the  gospel  comes, 
It  spreads  diviner  light, 
It  calls  dead  sinners  from  their  tombs, 
And  gives  the  blind  their  sight. 

How  perfect  is  Thy  word  ! 
And  all  Thy  judgments  just  ! 
For  ever  sure  Thy  promise,  Lord  ; 
And  men  securely  trust. 

While  with  my  heart  and  tongue 
I  spread  Thy  praise  abroad, 
Accept  the  worship  and  the  song, 
iVly  Saviour  and  my  God  ! 

Isaac  Waits    17 19. 

CVI  I. 

Psalm  XIX. 

Tlie  starry  firmament  on  high, 
And  all  the  glories  of  the  sky, 
Yet  shine  not  to  Thy  praise,  O  Lord, 
So  brightly  as  Thy  written  word  ; 
The  hopes  that  holy  word  supplies, 
Its  truths  divine,  and  precepts  wise. 
In  each  a  heavenly  beam  I  see, 
And  every  beam  conducts  to  Thee. 


God  the  Holy  Ghost.  1 1 9 

When,  taught  by  painful  proof  to  know 
That  all  is  vanity  below, 
The  sinner  roams  from  comfort  far. 
And  looks  in  vain  for  sun  or  star  ; 
Soft  gleaming  then  those  lights  divine 
Through  all  the  cheerless  darkness  shine, 
And  sweetly  to  the  ravish'd  eye 
?^isclose  the  Day-spring  from  on  higli. 


The  heart,  in  sensual  fetters  bound, 
And  barren  as  the  wintr>'  ground, 
Confesses,  Lord,  Thy  quickening  ray  ; 
Thy  word  can  charm  the  spell  away  ; 
With  genial  influence  can  beguile 
The  frozen  wilderness  to  smile  • 
Bid  living  waters  o'er  it  flov.-, 
And  all  be  paradise  below. 

Almighty  Lord,  the  sun  shall  fail, 
The  moon  forget  her  nightly  talc. 
And  deepest  silence  hush  on  high 
The  radiant  chorus  of  the  sky  : 
But,  fix'd  for  everlasting  years. 
Unmoved  amid  the  wreck  of  sphcrco. 
Thy  word  shall  shine  in  cloudless  day, 
When  heaven  and  earth  have  pass'd  away 

Sir  Roh'^'-t  Grant.  [1839. 


120  The  Book  of  Praise. 

IX. 

THE   HOLY   CATHOLIC   CHURCH. 

*'  And  I  believe  one  Catholic  and  Apostolic  Chttrch.'' 
CVIII. 

Jerusalem,  my  happy  home, 

When  shall  I  come  to  thee  ? 
When  shall  my  sorrows  have  an  end, 

Thy  joys  when  shall  I  see  ? 

0  happy  harbour  of  the  saints  ! 

O  sweet  and  pleasant  soil ! 
In  thee  no  sorrow  may  be  found, 

No  grief,  no  care,  no  toil. 

There  lust  and  lucre  cannot  dwell, 

There  envy  bears  no  sway  ; 
There  is  no  hunger,  heat,  nor  cold, 

But  pleasure  every  way. 

Thy  walls  are  made  of  precious  stones, 
Thy  bulwarks  diamonds  square  ; 

Thy  gates  are  of  right  orient  pearl, 
Exceeding  rich  and  rare. 

Thy  turrets  and  thy  pinnacles 

With  carbuncles  do  shine  ; 
Thy  very  streets  are  paved  with  gold, 

Surpassing  clear  and  fine. 

Ah,  my  sweet  home,  Jerusalem, 

Would  God  I  were  in  thee  ! 
Would  God  my  woes  were  at  an  end,  • 

Thy  joys  that  I  might  see  ! 


The  Holy  Catholic  Cfiiirch.  121 

Thy  saints  are  crown'd  with  glory  great ; 

They  see  God  face  to  face  ; 
They  triumph  still,  they  still  rejoice, 

Most  happy  is  their  case. 

We  that  are  here  in  banishment 

Continually  do  moan, 
We  sigh,  and  sob,  we  weep,  and  wail, 

Perpetually  we  groan. 

Our  sweet  is  mix'd  with  bitter  gall, 

Our  pleasure  is  but  pain. 
Our  joys  scarce  last  the  looking  on, 

Our  sorrows  still  rem.ain. 

But  there  they  live  in  such  delight. 

Such  pleasure  and  such  play, 
As  that  to  them  a  thousand  years 

Doth  seem  as  yesterday. 

Thy  gardens  and  thy  gallant  walks 

Continually  are  green. 
There  grow  such  sweet  and  pleasant  flowers 

As  nowhere  else  are  seen. 

Quite  through  the  streets,  with  silver  sound. 

The  flood  of  Life  doth  flow  ; 
Upon  whose  banks  on  every  side 

The  wood  of  Life  doth  grow. 

There  trees  for  evermore  bear  fruit, 

And  evermore  do  spring  ; 
There  evermore  the  angels  sit, 

And  evermore  do  sing. 


123  The  Book  of  Praise, 

Jerusalem,  my  happy  home, 

Would  God  I  were  in  thcc  ! 
Would  God  my  woes  were  at  an  end, 

Thy  joys  that  I  might  see  ! 

Anon.''F.B.P:'  [1616.] 


cix. 

Sweet  place,  sweet  place  alone  ! 
The  court  of  God  most  High, 
The  Heaven  of  Heavens,  the  Tli! 
Of  spotless  majesty  ! 
O  happy  place  ! 
When  shall  I  be, 
My  God,  with  Thee, 
To  see  Thy  face  ? 

The  stranger  homeward  bends, 
And  sigheth  for  his  rest : 
Heaven  is  my  home,  my  friends 
Lodge  there  in  Abraham's  breast 
O  happy  place  ! 
When  shall  I  be, 
I\Iy  God,  v,ith  Thee, 
To  see  Thy  i?^Q(i'^. 

Earth's  but  a  sorry  tent 
Pitch'd  for  a  few  frail  days, 
A  short-leas'd  tenement  ; 
Heaven's  still  my  song,  my  praise 
O  happy  place  I 
When  shall  I  be, 
]\Iy  God,  Avith  Thee, 
To  see  Thv  face  ? 


The  Holy  Catholic  Church.  123 

No  tears  from  any  eyes 
Drop  in  that  holy  quire  ; 
But  Death  itself  there  dies, 
And  sighs  themselves  expire. 
O  happy  place  ! 
When  shall  I  be, 
My  God,  with  Thee, 
To  see  Thy  face  ? 

There  should  temptations  cease, 
My  frailties  there  should  end  ; 
There  should  I  rest  in  peace 
In  the  arms  of  my  best  Friend. 
O  happy  place  ! 
When  shall  I  be, 
My  God,  with  Thee, 
To  see  Thy  face  ? 

Jerusalem  on  high 
My  song  and  City  is. 
My  home  whene'er  I  die. 
The  centre  of  my  bliss  : 
O  happy  place  I 
When  shall  I  be, 
My  God,  with  Thee, 
To  see  Thv  face  .'' 


Tiiy  walls,  sweet  city,  thine, 
With  pearls  are  garnished  ; 
Thy  gates  with  praises  shine. 
Thy  streets  with  gold  are  spread 
O  happy  place ! 
When  shall  I  be. 
My  God,  with  Thee, 
To  sec  Thv  face  ? 


124  l'^^-  Book  of  Praise, 

No  sun  by  day  shines  there, 
Nor  moon  by  silent  night ; 
Oh  no  !  these  needless  are  ; 
The  Lamb's  the  city's  Light : 
O  happy  place  ! 
When  shall  I  be, 
My  God,  with  Thee, 
To  see  Thy  face  ? 

There  dwells  my  Lord,  my  King, 
Judged  here  unfit  to  live  ; 
There  angels  to  Him  sing, 
And  lowly  homage  give  : 
O  happy  place  ! 
When  shall  I  be. 
My  God,  with  Thee, 
To  see  Thy  face  ? 

The  Patriarchs  of  old 
There  from  their  travels  cease  ; 
The  Prophets  there  behold 
Their  long'd-for  Prince  of  Peace  \ 
O  happy  place  ! 
When  shall  I  be, 
My  God,  with  Thee, 
To  see  Thy  face  ? 

The  Lamb's  Apostles  there 
I  might  with  joy  behold, 
The  Harpers  I  might  hear 
Harping  on  harps  of  gold  ; 
O  happy  place  ! 
When  shall  I  be, 
My  God,  with  Thee, 
To  see  Thy  face  ? 


The  Holy  Catholic  CJmrch.  125 

The  bleeding  Martyrs,  they 
Within  those  courts  are  found, 
Clothed  in  pure  array, 
Their  scars  with  glory  crown'd  : 
O  happy  place  ! 
When  shall  I  be. 
My  God,  with  Thee, 
To  see  Thy  face  ? 

Ah  me  !  Ah  me  !  that  I 
In  Kedar's  tents  here  stay  ! 
No  place  like  this  on  high  ! 
Thither,  Lord  !  guide  my  way  ! 
O  happy  place  ! 
When  shall  I  be, 
My  God,  with  Thee, 
To  see  Thy  face  ? 

SajHuel  Grossman.  1664. 


ex. 

Jerusalem,  my  happy  home. 

Name  ever  dear  to  me  ! 
When  shall  my  labours  have  an  end. 

In  joy  and  peace,  and  thee  ? 

When  shall  these  eyes  thy  heaven-built  walls, 

And  pearly  gates  behold  ? 
Thy  bulwarks  with  salvation  strong. 

And  streets  of  shining  gold  ? 

There  happier  bowers  than  Eden's  bloom. 

Nor  sin  nor  sorrow  know  : 
Rlest  seats  !  through  rude  and  stormy  scenes 

I  onward  press  to  you. 


26  The  Book  of  Praise. 

Why  should  I  shrink  from  pain  and  woe, 

Or  feel  at  death  dismay  ? 
I've  Canaan's  goodly  land  in  view, 

And  realms  of  endless  day. 

Apostles,  martyrs,  prophets,  there 

Around  my  Saviour  stand  ; 
And  soon  my  friends  in  Christ  below 

Will  join  the  glorious  band. 

Jerusalem,  my  happy  home  ! 

My  soul  still  pants  for  thee  : 
Then  shall  my  labours  have  an  end, 

When  I  thy  joys  shall  see. 


Anon.  [1801.] 


CXI. 

Rev.  VII.  13—17. 

What  are  these  in  bright  array, 

This  innumerable  throng. 
Round  the  altar,  night  and  day. 

Hymning  one  triumphant  song  ? 
"  W^orthy  is  the  Lamb,  once  slain, 

Blessing,  honour,  glory,  power, 
Wisdom,  riches,  to  obtain. 

New  dominion  every  hour." 

These  through  fiery  trials  trod  ; 

These  from  great  affliction  came  % 
Now,  before  the  Throne  of  God, 

Seal'd  with  His  Almighty  Name, 
Clad  in  raiment  pure  and  white, 

Victor-palms  in  every  hand, 
Through  their  dear  Redeemer's  might, 

More  than  conquerors  they  stand. 


The  Holy  Catholic  Chinxh.  127 

Hunger,  thirst,  disease  unknown, 

On  immortal  fruits  they  feed  ; 
Them  the  Lamb  amidst  the  Throne 

Shall  to  living  fountains  lead  : 
Joy  and  gladness  banish  sighs  ; 

Perfect  love  dispels  all  fear  ; 
And  for  ever  from  their  eyes 

God  shall  wipe  away  the  tear. 

James  Moiitgonioy.   1819. 

CXII. 

Rev.  VII.  13—17. 

Exalted  high  at  God's  right  hand, 
Nearer  the  throne  than  cherubs  stand, 
With  glory  crown'd,  in  white  array, 
My  wondering  soul  says,  who  are  they  ? 

These  are  the  saints  beloved  of  God, 
Wash'd  are  their  robes  in  Jesus'  blood, 
More  spotless  than  the  purest  white 
They  shine  in  uncreated  light. 

Brighter  than  angels,  lo  !  they  shine, 
Their  glories  great,  and  all  divine  : 
Tell  me  their  origin,  and  say, 
Their  order  what,  and  whence  came  they  ? 

Through  tribulation  great  they  came, 
They  bore  the  cross,  and  scorn'd  the  shame : 
Within  the  Living  Temple  blest, 
In  God  they  dwell,  and  on  Him  rest. 

And  does  the  cross  thus  prove  their  gain  ? 
And  shall  they  thus  for  ever  reign. 
Seated  on  sapphire  thrones,  to  praise 
The  wonders  of  Redeeming  grace  'i 


128  The  Book  of  Praise. 

Hunger  they  ne'er  shall  feel  again, 
Nor  burning  thirst  shall  they  sustain  ; 
To  wells  of  living  water  led, 
By  God  the  Lamb  for  ever  fed. 

Unknown  to  mortal  ears,  they  sing 
The  secret  glories  of  their  King : 
Tell  me  the  subject  of  their  lays, 
And  whence  their  loud  exalted  praise  ? 

Jesus,  the  Saviour,  is  their  theme  ; 
They  sing  the  \\TDnders  of  His  Name ; 
To  Him  ascribing  power  and  grace. 
Dominion,  and  eternal  praise. 

Amen  !  they  cry,  to  Him  alone, 
Who  dares  to  fill  His  Father's  throne  ; 
They  give  Him  glory,  and  again 
Repeat  His  praise,  and  say.  Amen  ! 

Rowland  Hill.  1783. 


CXIII. 

O  happy  saints,  who  dwell  in  light. 
And  walk  with  Jesus,  clothed  in  white  ; 
Safe  landed  on  that  peaceful  shore, 
Where  pilgrims  meet  to  part  no  more. 

Released  from  sin,  and  toil,  and  grief.- 
Death  was  their  gate  to  endless  life ; 
An  open'd  cage,  to  let  them  fly 
And  build  their  happy  nest  on  high. 

And  now  they  range  the  heavenly  plains, 
And  sing  their  hymns  in  melting  strains  ; 
And  now  their  souls  begin  to  prove 
The  heights  and  depths  of  Jesus'  love. 


The  Holy  Catholic  Omrch.  129 

He  cheers  them  with  eternal  smile  ; 
They  sing  hosannas  all  the  while  ; 
Or,  overwhelm'd  with  rapture  sweet, 
Sink  down  adoring  at  His  feet. 

Ah  !  Lord  !  with  tardy  steps  I  creep, 
And  sometimes  sing,  and  sometimes  weep  ; 
Yet  strip  me  of  this  house  of  clay, 
And  I  will  sing  as  loud  as  they. 

John  Berridge.   1785. 


CXIV. 

Rev.  VII.  13—17. 

How  bright  these  glorious  spirits  shine  : 
Whence  all  their  white  array  ? 

How  came  they  to  the  blissful  seats 
Of  everlasting  day  ? 

Lo  !  these  are  they  from  sufferings  great 
Who  came  to  realms  of  light ; 

And  in  the  blood  of  Christ  have  wash'd 
Those  robes  which  shine  so  bright. 

Now  with  triumphal  palms  they  stand 

Before  the  throne  on  high, 
And  serve  the  (iod  they  love,  amidst 

The  glories  of  the  sky. 

His  presence  fills  each  heart  with  joy; 

Tunes  every  mouth  to  sing  ; 
By  day,  by  night,  the  sacred  courts 

With  glad  hosannas  ring. 
K 


130  TJie  Book  of  Praise, 

Hunger  and  thirst  are  felt  no  more, 

Nor  suns  with  scorching  ray  ; 
God  is  their  Sun,  whose  cheering  beams 

Diffuse  eternal  day. 

The  Lamb,  which  dwells  amidst  the  throne, 

Shall  o'er  them  still  preside. 
Feed  them  with  nourishment  divine. 

And  all  their  footsteps  guide. 

'Mong  pastures  green  He'll  lead  His  flock, 

Where  living  streams  appear  ; 
And  God  the  Lord  from  every  eye 
Shall  wipe  off  every  tear. 

William  Cameron.  1770. 
{Variation from  Isaac  Watts.  1709.) 


cxv. 

Rev.  VII.  i3-~i7. 

Palms  of  glory,  raiment  bright, 
Crowns  that  never  fade  away, 
Gird  and  deck  the  saints  in  light, 
Priests,  and  kings,  and  conquerors  they. 

Yet  the  conquerors  bring  their  palms 
To  the  Lamb  amidst  the  throne, 
And  proclaim  in  joyful  psalms 
Victory  through  His  cross  alone. 

Kings  for  harps  their  crowns  resign. 
Crying,  as  they  strike  the  chords, 
"  Take  the  kingdom,  it  is  Thine, 
King  of  kings,  and  Lord  of  lords  ! " 


The  Holy  Catholic  Church.  131 

Round  the  altar  priests  confess, 
If  their  robes  are  white  as  snow, 
'Twas  the  Saviour's  righteousness, 
And  His  blood,  that  made  them  so. 

Who  vv^ere  these  ?  on  earth  they  dwelt ; 
Sinners  once,  of  Adam's  race  ; 
Guilt,  and  fear,  and  suffering  felt ; 
But  were  saved  by  sovereign  grace. 

They  were  mortal,  too,  like  us  : 
Ah  !  when  we,  like  them,  must  die. 
May  our  souls,  translated  thus. 
Triumph,  reign,  and  shine  on  high  ! 

James  Montgomery.  [1853.] 

CXVL 

Psalm  LXXXVII. 

Glorious  things  of  thee  are  spoken, 

Zion,  city  of  our  God  ; 
He,  whose  word  cannot  be  broken, 

Form'd  thee  for  His  own  abode: 
On  the  Rock  of  Ages  founded. 

What  can  shake  thy  sure  repose  ? 
With  salvation's  walls  surrounded, 

Thou  mayst  smile  at  all  thy  foes. 

See,  the  streams  of  living  waters. 

Springing  from  eternal  love. 
Well  supply  thy  sons  and  daughters. 

And  all  fear  of  want  remove  : 
Who  can  faint,  while  such  a  river 

Ever  flows  their  thirst  to  assuage ; 
Grace,  which,  like  the  Lord  the  givcr^ 

Never  fails  from  age  to  age  ? 
K  2 


133  The  Book  of  Praise. 

Round  each  habitation  hovering, 

See  the  cloud  and  fire  appear, 
For  a  glory  and  a  covering  ; 

Showing  that  the  Lord  is  near. 
Thus  deriving  from  their  banner 

Light  by  night,  and  shade  by  day, 
Safe  they  feed  upon  the  manna. 

Which  He  gives  them  when  they  pray. 

Saviour,  if  of  Zion's  city 

I,  through  grace,  a  member  am, 
Let  the  world  deride  or  pity, 

I  will  glory  in  Thy  Name  : 
Fading  is  the  worldling's  pleasure, 

All  his  boasted  pomp  and  show  ; 
Solid  joys  and  lasting  treasure 

None  but  Zion  s  children  know. 

John  Newton.  1779. 


CXVII. 

The  Son  of  God  goes  forth  to  war, 

A  kingly  crown  to  gain  ; 
His  blood-red  banner  streams  afar : 

Who  follows  in  His  train  .^ 

Who  best  can  drink  His  cup  of  woe, 

Triumphant  over  pain. 
Who  patient  bears  His  cross  below. 

He  follows  in  his  train. 

The  martyr,  first,  whose  eagle  eye 
Could  pierce  beyond  the  grave  ; 

Who  saw  his  Master  in  the  sky, 
And  call'd  on  Him  to  save. 


The  Holy  Catholic  Omrch.  133 

Like  Him,  with  pardon  on  his  tongue, 

In  midst  of  mortal  pain, 
He  prayed  for  them  that  did  the  wrong  : 

Who  follows  in  his  train  ? 

A  glorious  band,  the  chosen  few, 

On  whom  the  Spirit  came  ; 
Twelve  valiant  saints,  their  hope  they  knew, 

And  mock'd  the  cross  and  flame. 

They  met  the  tyrant's  brandish'd  steel. 

The  lion's  gory  mane  ; 
They  bow'd  their  necks  the  death  to  feel : 

Who  follows  in  their  train  ? 

A  noble  army,  men  and  boys, 

The  matron  and  the  maid, 
Around  the  Saviour's  throne  rejoice, 

In  robes  of  light  arrayed. 

They  climb'd  the  steep  ascent  of  heaven, 

Through  peril,  toil,  and  pain  ; 
O  God  !  to  us  may  grace  be  given 

To  follow  in  their  train  ! 

Bishop  Reginald  Heber.  1827. 

CXVIII. 

Ye  servants  of  the  Lord, 
Each  in  his  office  wait, 
Observant  of  His  heavenly  word. 
And  watchful  at  His  gate. 

Let  all  your  lamps  be  bright. 
And  trim  the  golden  flame  ; 
Gird  up  your  loins,  as  in  His  sight, 
For  awful  is  His  name. 


IJ4  The  Book  of  Praise.. 

Watch  ;  'tis  your  Lord's  command  ; 
And,  while  we  speak,  He's  near  ; 
Mark  the  first  signal  of  His  hand, 
And  ready  all  appear. 

O  happy  servant  he, 
In  such  a  posture  found  ! 
He  shall  his  Lord  with  rapture  see, 
And  be  with  honour  crown'd. 

Christ  shall  the  banquet  spread 
With  His  own  Royal  hand  ; 
And  raise  that  favourite  servant's  head 
Amid  the  angelic  band, 

Philip  Doddridge.  1 755. 

CXIX. 

A  soldier's  course,  from  battles  won 

To  new-commencing  strife ; 
A  pilgrim's,  restless  as  the  sun  ; 

Behold  the  Christian's  life  ! 

Prepared  the  trumpet's  call  to  greet. 

Soldier  of  Jesus,  stand  ! 
Pilgrim  of  Christ,  with  ready  feet 

Await  thy  Lord's  command. 

The  hosts  of  Satan  pant  for  spoil ; 

How  can  thy  warfare  close  ? 
Lonely,  thou  tread' st  a  foreign  soil ; 

How  canst  thou  hope  repose  ? 

Seek,  soldier  !  pilgrim  !  seek  thine  home, 

Reveal'd  in  sacred  lore  ; 
The  land,  whence  pilgrims  never  roam. 

Where  soldiers  war  no  more  : 


The  Holy  Catholic  Church,  135 

Where  grief  shall  never  wound,  nor  death 

Disturb  the  Saviour's  reign  ; 
Nor  sin,  with  pestilential  breath, 

His  holy  realm  profane  : 

The  land,  where,  (suns  and  moons  unknown, 

And  night's  alternate  sway,) 
Jehovah's  ever-burning  throne 

Upholds  unbroken  day  : 

The  land,  (for  Heaven  its  bliss  unseen 

Bids  earthly  types  suggest,) 
Where  healing  leaves  and  fadeless  green 


Where  founts  of  life  their  treasures  yield 

In  streams  that  never  cease  ; 
Where  everlasting  mountains  shield 

Vales  of  eternal  peace  : 

Where  they  who  meet  shall  never  part ; 

Where  grace  achieves  its  plan  ; 
And  God,  uniting  every  heart, 

Dwells  face  to  face  with  man. 

Thojnas  Gisborjie,  1803. 

cxx. 

Hark,  'tis  a  martial  sound  ! 

To  arms,  ye  saints,  to  arms  ! 

Your  foes  are  gathering  round. 

And  peace  has  lost  its  charms  : 
Prepare  the  helmet,  sword,  and  shield  \ 
The  trumpet  calls  you  to  the  field. 

No  common  foes  appear 
To  dare  you  to  the  fight, 
But  such  as  own  no  fear 
And  glory  in  their  might : 


[36  The  Book  of  Praise. 

The  Powers  of  Darkness  are  at  hand  ; 
Resist,  or  bow  to  their  command. 

An  arm  of  flesh  must  fail 

In  such  a  strife  as  this  ; 

He  only  can  prevail 

Whose  arm  immortal  is  : 
'Tis  Heaven  itself  the  strength  must  yield, 
And  weapons  fit  for  such  a  field. 

And  Heaven  supplies  them  too  : 

The  Lord,  who  never  faints, 

Is  greater  than  the  foe, 

And  He  is  with  His  saints  : 
Thus  arm'd,  they  venture  to  the  fight ; 
Thus  arm'd,  they  put  their  foes  to  flight. 

And,  wdien  the  conflict's  past, 

On  yonder  peaceful  shore 

They  shall  repose  at  last, 

And  see  their  foes  no  more  ; 
The  fruits  of  victoiy  enjoy. 
And  never  more  their  arms  employ. 

Thomas  Kelly.  1809 


cxxi. 
O  Israel,  to  thy  tents  repair  : 

Why  thus  secure  on  hostile  ground  ? 
Thy  King  commands  thee  to  beware, 

For  many  foes  thy  camp  surround. 

The  trumpet  gives  a  martial  strain  : 
O  Israel,  gird  thee  for  the  fixght ! 

Arise,  the  combat  to  maintain. 
And  put  thine  enemies  to  flight  J 


The  Holy  Catholic  Church.  137 

Thou  shouldst  not  sleep,  as  others  do  ; 

Awake  ;  be  vigilant ;  be  brave  ! 
The  coward,  and  the  sluggard  too, 

Must  wear  the  fetters  of  the  slave. 

A  nobler  lot  is  cast  for  thee  ; 

A  kingdom  waits  thee  in  the  skies  : 
With  such  a  hope,  shall  Israel  flee, 

Or  yield,  through  weariness,  the  prize  ? 

No  !  let  a  careless  world  repose 
And  slumber  on  through  life's  short  day, 

While  Israel  to  the  conflict  goes. 
And  bears  the  glorious  prize  away  ! 

Thomas  Kelly.  1806 

CXXII. 

Much  in  sorrow,  oft  in  woe, 
Onward,  Christians,  onward  go  ; 
Fight  the  fight,  and,  worn  with  strife, 
Steep  with  tears  the  Bread  of  Life. 

Onward,  Christians,  omvard  go  ; 
Join  the  war,  and  face  the  foe  ; 
Faint  not  !  much  doth  yet  remain  ; 
Dreary  is  the  long  campaign. 

Shrink  not.  Christians  I  will  ye  yield  ? 
Will  ye  quit  the  painful  field  .^ 
Will  ye  flee  in  danger's  hour  ? 
Know  ye  not  your  Captain's  power  ? 

Let  your  drooping  hearts  be  glad  ; 
March,  in  heavenly  armour  clad  ; 
Fight,  nor  think  the  battle  long  ; 
Victory  soon  shall  tunc  your  song. 


1 3  8  The  Book  of  Praise. 

Let  not  sorrow  dim  your  eye, 
Soon  shall  every  tear  be  dry; 
Let  not  woe  your  course  impede  ; 
Great  your  strength,  if  great  your  need. 

Onward  then  to  battle  move  ; 
More  than  conquerors  ye  shall  prove  ; 
Though  opposed  by  many  a  foe, 
Christian  soldiers,  onward  go. 

Frag7nent  by  Henry  Kirke  White.  1806. 
Completed  by  Fanny  Fuller  Maitland.  1827. 

CXXIII. 

Come,  we  that  love  the  Lord, 
And  let  our  joys  be  known  ; 
Join  in  a  song  with  sweet  accord, 
And  thus  surround  the  throne. 

Let  those  refuse  to  sing 
That  never  knew  our  God  ; 
But  favourites  of  the  Heavenly  King 
May  speak  their  joys  abroad. 

The  men  of  grace  have  found 
Glory  begun  below  ; 
Celestial  fruits  on  earthly  ground 
From  faith  and  hope  may  grow. 

The  hill  of  Zion  yields 
A  thousand  sacred  sweets, 
Before  we  reach  the  heavenly  fields, 
Or  walk  the  golden  streets. 

Then  let  our  songs  abound; 
And  every  tear  be  dry : 
We're  marching  through  Emmanuel's  ground 
To  fairer  worlds  on  high. 

Isaac  Watts.  170Q. 


The  Holy  Catholic  Church.  139 

cxxiv. 

From  Egypt  lately  come, 
Where  death  and  darkness  reign, 
We  seek  our  new,  our  better  home, 
Where  we  our  rest  shall  gain. 
Hallelujah  ! 
We  are  on  our  way  to  God  ! 

To  Canaan's  sacred  bound 
We  haste  with  songs  of  joy, 
Where  peace  and  liberty  are  found, 
And  sweets  that  never  cloy. 
Hallelujah  ! 
We  are  on  our  v/ay  to  God  ! 

There  sin  and  sorrow  cease. 
And  every  conflict's  o'er  ; 
There  we  shall  dwell  in  endless  peace. 
And  never  hunger  more  : 
Hallelujah  ! 
We  are  on  our  way  to  God  ! 

There  in  celestial  strains 
Enraptured  myriads  sing  ; 
There  love  in  every  bosom  reigns, 
For  God  Himself  is  King. 
Hallelujah  ! 
We  are  on  our  way  to  GoJ  ! 

We  soon  shall  join  the  throng, 
Their  pleasures  we  shall  share. 
And  sing  the  everlasting  song 
With  all  the  ransom'd  there. 
Hallelujah  ! 
We  are  on  our  wav  to  God  .' 


T40  The  Book  of  Praise. 

How  sweet  the  prospect  is  ! 
It  cheers  the  pilgrim's  breast ! 
We're  journeying  through  the  wilderness, 
But  soon  shall  gain  our  rest ! 
Hallelujah; 
We  are  on  our  way  to  God  ! 

Thomas  Kelly.  1812. 

cxxv. 

When  Israel,  by  Divine  command, 

The  pathless  desert  trod. 
They  found,  though  'twas  a  barren  land, 

A  sure  resource  in  God. 

A  cloudy  pillar  mark'd  their  road, 
And  screen'd  them  from  the  heat ; 

From  the  hard  rocks  their  v/ater  flow'd, 
And  manna  was  their  meat. 

Like  them,  we  have  a  rest  in  view, 

Secure  from  adverse  powers  ; 
Like  them,  we  pass  a  desert  too  ; 

And  Israel's  God  is  ours. 

His  Word  a  light  before  us  spreads 

By  which  our  path  we  see  ; 
His  Love,  a  banner  o'er  our  heads, 

From  harm  preserves  us  free. 

Jesus,  the  Bread  of  Life,  is  given 

To  be  our  daily  food  ; 
We  drink  a  wondrous  stream  from  Heaven, 

'Tis  water,  wine,  and  blood. 

Lord  !  'tis  enough !  I  ask  no  more, 

These  blessings  are  Divine  ; 
I  envy  not  the  worldling's  store, 

If  Christ  and  Heaven  are  mine. 

John  Newton.  1779. 


The  Holy  Catholic  Church.  141 


CXXVI. 

Children  of  the  Heavenly  King, 
As  ye  journey,  sweetly  sing  ; 
Sing  your  Saviour's  worthy  praise, 
Glorious  in  His  works  and  ways  ! 

We  are  travelling  home  to  God, 
In  the  way  the  Fathers  trod  ; 
They  are  happy  now  ;  and  we 
Soon  their  happiness  shall  see. 

O  ye  banish'd  seed,  be  glad  ! 
Christ  our  Advocate  is  made  ; 
Us  to  save,  our  flesh  assumes  ; 
Brother  to  our  souls  becomes. 

Shout,  ye  little  flock,  and  blest  ! 
You  on  Jesus'  Throne  shall  rest ; 
There  your  seat  is  now  prepared, 
There  your  kingdom  and  reward. 

Lift  your  eyes,  ye  sons  of  Light  ! 
Zion  s  city  is  in  sight : 
There  our  endless  home  shall  be, 
There  our  Lord  we  soon  shall  see. 

Fear  not,  brethren  ;  joyful  stand 
On  the  borders  of  your  land  ; 
Jesus  Christ,  your  Father  s  Son, 
Bids  you  undismayed  go  on. 

Lord  !  obediently  we  go. 
Gladly  leaving  all  below  : 
Only  Thou  our  Leader  be, 
And  we  still  will  follow  Thee  ! 


142  The  Book  of  Praise. 

Seal  our  love,  our  labours  end  ; 
Let  us  to  Thy  bliss  ascend  ; 
Let  us  to  Thy  kingdom  come  ; 
Lord  !  we  long  to  be  at  home. 

Jolm  Cennkk.  1742. 


CXXVII. 

Awake,  and  sing  the  song 
Of  Moses  and  the  Lamb, 
Wake  every  heart  and  every  tongue 
To  praise  the  Saviour's  Name. 

Sing  of  His  dying  love  ; 
Sing  of  His  rising  power  ; 
Sing  how  He  intercedes  above 
For  those  whose  sins  He  bore. 

Sing,  till  we  feel  our  hearts 
Ascending  with  our  tongues  ; 
Sing,  till  the  love  of  sin  departs, 
And  grace  inspires  our  songs. 

Sing  on  your  heavenly  way, 
Ye  ransom'd  sinners,  sing  ; 
Sing  on,  rejoicing  every  day 
In  Christ  the  eternal  King. 

Soon  shall  ye  hear  Him  say. 
Ye  blessed  children,  come  ; 
Soon  will  He  call  you  hence  away, 
And  take  his  wanderers  home. 

Variation  froui  Williain  Hat7tmo7id.  1745. 
By  Martin  Madan.  1760. 


The  Holy  Catholic  Church.  143 

CXXVIII. 

"  Te  lest  a,  mimdi  CondztorP 

Thou,  great  Creator,  art  possest, 
And  Thou  alone,  of  endless  rest ; 
To  angels  only  it  belongs 
To  lift  to  Thee  their  ceaseless  songs. 

But  we  must  toil  and  toil  again 
With  ceaseless  woe  and  endless  pain  ; 
How  then  can  we,  in  exile  drear. 
Lift  the  glad  song  of  glory  here  ! 

Oh  Thou,  who  wilt  forgiving  be 
To  all  who  truly  turn  to  Thee, 
Grant  us  to  mourn  the  heavy  cause 
Of  all  our  woe,  Thy  broken  laws  : 

Then  to  such  salutary  grief 
Let  Faith  and  Hope  bring  due  relief; 
And  we,  too,  soon  shall  be  possest 
Of  ceaseless  songs  and  endless  rest. 

John  Chandler.  1837. 

CXXIX. 

Praise  to  the  radiant  Source  of  bliss, 
Who  gives  the  blind  their  sight. 

And  scatters  round  their  wond'ring  eyes 
A  flood  of  sacred  light. 

In  paths  unknown  He  leads  them  on 

To  His  Divine  abode, 
And  shows  new  miracles  of  grace 

Through  all  the  heavenly  road. 


144  The  Book  of  Praise. 

The  ways  all  rugged  and  perplex'd 
He  renders  smooth  and  straight, 

And  strengthens  every  feeble  knee 
To  march  to  Zion's  gate. 


Through  all  the  path  I'll  sing  His  Name, 

Till  I  the  Mount  ascend, 
Where  toils  and  storms  are  known  no  more , 

And  anthems  never  end  ! 

Philip  Doddridge.  1755. 


X. 

THE  COMMUNION  OF  SAINTS. 

''  The  Connnunion  of  Saints''^  {Apostles  Creed). 

cxxx. 

When  Christ  the  Lord  would  come  on  earth, 
His  messenger  before  Him  went. 

The  greatest  born  of  mortal  birth 

And  charged  with  words  of  deep  intent. 

The  least  of  all  that  here  attend 
Hath  honour  greater  far  than  he  ; 

He  was  the  Bridegroom's  joyful  friend, 
His  Body  and  His  Spouse  are  we. 

A  higher  race,  the  sons  of  light. 

Of  water  and  the  Spirit  born  ; 
He  the  last  star  of  parting  night. 

And  v/e  the  children  of  the  morn. 


The  Coninnaiwn  of  Sain fs.  145 

And,  as  he  boldly  spake  Thy  word, 

And  joyed  to  hear  the  Bridegroom's  voice, 

Thus  may  Thy  pastors  teach,  O  Lord  ! 
And  thus  Thy  hearing  Church  rejoice, 

Henry  A /ford.   1S45. 


CXXXT. 

How  rich  Thy  favours,  God  of  grace, 

How  various  and  Divine  ! 
Full  as  the  ocean  they  are  pour'd, 

And  bright  as  Heaven  they  shine. 

He  to  eternal  glory  calls, 

And  leads  the  wondrous  way 
To  His  own  Palace,  where  He  reigns 

In  uncreated  day. 

Jesus,  the  Herald  of  His  love, 

Displays  the  radiant  prize, 
And  shows  the  purchase  of  His  Blood 

To  our  admiring  eyes. 

He  perfects  what  His  hand  begins, 

And  stone  on  stone  he  lays, 
Till  firm  and  fair  the  building  rise 
.    A  temple  to  His  praise. 

The  songs  of  everlasting  years 

That  mercy  shall  attend, 
Which  leads,  through  sufferings  of  an  hour. 

To  joys  that  never  end. 

Ph  Hip  Doddridge.  1755. 


146  The  Book  of  Praise. 

CXXXII. 

Psalm  LXXXIV. 

Pleasant  are  Thy  courts  above 
In  the  land  of  light  and  love  ; 
Pleasant  are  thy  courts  below 
In  this  land  of  sin  and  woe. 
O,  my  spirit  longs  and  faints 
For  the  converse  of  Thy  saints, 
For  the  brightness  of  Thy  face, 
For  Thy  fulness,  God  of  grace  ! 

Happy  birds  that  sing  and  fly 
Round  Thy  altars,  O  Most  High  ! 
Happier  souls  that  find  a  rest 
In  a  Heavenly  Fathers  breast ! 
Like  the  wandering  dove,  that  found 
No  repose  on  earth  around, 
They  can  to  their  ark  repair, 
And  enjoy  it  ever  there. 

Happy  souls !  their  praises  flow 
Even  in  this  vale  of  woe  ; 
Waters  in  the  desert  rise, 
Manna  feeds  them  from  the  skies: 
On  they  go  from  strength  to  strength. 
Till  they  reach  Thy  throne  at  length, 
At  Thy  feet  adoring  fall. 
Who  hast  led  them  safe  through  all. 

Lord  I  be  mine  this  prize  to  v/in  ! 
Guide  me  through  a  world  of  sin  : 
Keep  me  by  Thy  saving  grace  ; 
Give  me  at  Thy  side  a  place  : 


Tlie  Coinmunioii  nf  Saints.  14.7 

Sun  and  Shield  alike  Thou  art ; 
Guide  and  guard  my  erring  heart  ! 
Grace  and  glory  flow  from  Thee  ; 
Shower,  O  shower  them,  Lord,  on  me  ! 

Henry  Francis  Lyte.  1 834. 


CXXXIII. 

Psalm  LXXXIV. 

Lord  of  the  worlds  above, 
How  pleasant  and  how  fair 
The  dwellings  of  Thy  love, 
Thy  earthly  temples,  are  ! 
To  Thine  abode 
My  heart  aspires 
With  warm  desires 
To  see  my  God. 

O  happy  souls  that  pray 
Where  God  appoints  to  hear  ! 
O  happy  men  that  pay 
Their  constant  service  there  ! 
They  praise  Thee  still  ; 
And  happy  they 
That  love  the  way 
To  Sion's  hill. 

They  go  from  strength  to  strength 
Through  this  dark  vale  of  tears, 
Till  each  arrives  at  length, 
Till  each  in  Heaven  appears  : 
O  glorious  scat, 
When  God  our  King 
Shall  thither  bring 
Our  wiUing  feet ! 

Isaac  Watts.  1719. 
I,  2 


The  Book  of  Praise. 

CXXXIV. 

'Tis  Heaven  begun  below 

To  hear  Christ's  praises  flow 
In  Zion,  v/here  His  Name  is  known : 

What  will  it  be  above 

To  sing  redeeming  love, 
And  cast  our  crowns  before  His  throne  ! 

When  we  adore  Him  there, 

We  shall  be  void  of  fear, 
Nor  faith,  nor  hope,  nor  patience  need  : 

Love  will  absorb  us  quite, 

Love  in  the  midst  of  light, 
On  God's  eternal  love  shall  feed. 

Oh  !  what  sweet  company 

We  then  shall  hear  and  see  ! 
What  harmony  will  there  abound  ! 

When  souls  unnumber  d  sing 

The  praise  of  Zion's  King, 
Nor  one  dissenting  voice  is  found  ! 

With  everlasting  joy, 

Such  as  will  never  cloy. 
We  shall  be  fiU'd,  nor  v/ish  for  more  ; 

Bright  as  meridian  day, 

Calm  as  the  evening  ray, 
Full  as  a  sea  without  a  shore- 

Till  that  blest  period  come, 

Zion  shall  be  my  hom.e  ; 
And  may  I  never  thence  remove. 

Till  from  the  Church  below 

To  heaven  at  once  I  go, 
And  there  commune  in  perfect  love  I 

Joseph  Swaifi.     1 792. 


The  Comnumioii  of  Saints.  149 


cxxxv. 

Lo  !  God  is  here  !  Let  us  adore, 
And  own,  how  dreadful  is  this  place ! 

Let  all  within  us  feel  His  power, 
And  silent  bow  before  His  face  ! 

Who  know  His  power,  His  grace  who  prove, 

Serve  Him  with  awe,  with  reverence  love. 

Lo  !  God  is  here  !  Him  day  and  night 
Th'  united  quires  of  angels  sing  : 

To  Him,  enthroned  above  all  height, 

Heaven  s  hosts  their  noblest  praises  bring  : 

Disdain  not,  Lord,  our  meaner  song, 

Who  praise  Thee  with  a  stammering  tongue  ! 

Gladly  the  toys  of  earth  we  leave. 
Wealth,  pleasure,  fame,  for  Thee  alone '. 

To  Thee  our  will,  soul,  flesh,  we  give  ; 
O  take,  O  seal  them  for  Thine  own  ! 

Thou  art  the  God  !     Thou  art  the  Lord  ! 

Be  Thou  by  all  Thy  works  adored  ! 

Being  of  beings,  may  our  praise 

Thy  courts  with  grateful  fragrance  fill ; 

Still  may  we  stand  before  Thy  face. 
Still  hear  and  do  Thy  sovereign  will ! 

To  Thee  may  all  our  thoughts  arise. 

Ceaseless,  accepted  sacrifice ! 

In  Thee  we  move  ;  all  things  of  Thee 
Are  full.  Thou  source  and  life  of  all .' 

Thou  vast,  unfathomable  Sea  ! 
Fall  prostrate,  lost  in  wonder  fall. 

Ye  sons  of  men  ;  for  God  is  Man  ! 

All  may  we  lose,  so  Thee  we  gain ! 


150  The  Book  of  Praise. 

As  flowers  their  opening  leaves  display. 

And  glad  drink  in  the  solar  fire, 
So  may  we  catch  Thy  every  ray, 

So  may  Thy  influence  us  inspire  ; 
Thou  Beam  of  the  eternal  Beam, 
Thou  purging  Fire  ;  Thou  quickening  Flame  ! 
Jolm  Wesley.     1739. 
F7'0Jn  Gerhard  Tersteegc7i. 


CXXXVI. 

Jesus,  where'er  Thy  people  m.eet, 
There  they  behold  Thy  mercy-seat ; 
Where'er  they  seek  Thee,  Thou  art  found, 
And  every  place  is  hallowed  ground. 

For  Thou,  within  no  walls  confined, 
Inhabitest  the  humble  mind  ; 
Such  ever  bring  Thee  where  they  com.e, 
And  going  take  Thee  to  their  home. 

Dear  Shepherd  of  Thy  chosen  fev>'. 
Thy  former  mercies  here  renew  ; 
Here  to  our  waiting  hearts  proclaim 
The  sweetness  of  Thy  saving  Name. 

Here  may  v/e  prove  the  pov/er  of  prayer 
To  strengthen  faith,  and  sweeten  care. 
To  teach  our  faint  desires  to  rise, 
And  bring  all  Heaven  before  our  eyes. 

Behold,  at  Thy  commanding  word. 
We  stretch  the  curtain  and  the  cord  ; 
Come  Thou,  and  fill  this  wider  space, 
And  bless  us  with  a  large  increase. 


The  Co7nmitnio7i  of  Saints.  151 

Lord,  we  are  few,  but  Thou  art  near ; 
Nor  short  Thine  arm,  nor  deaf  Thine  ear  ; 
O  rend  the  heavens,  come  quickly  down, 
And  make  a  thousand  hearts  Thine  own  ! 

William  Cowper.  1779. 


CXXXVII. 

The  heaven  of  heavens  cannot  contain 

The  Universal  Lord  ; 
Yet  He  in  humble  hearts  will  deign 

To  dwell  and  be  adored. 


Where'er  ascends  the  sacrifice 

Of  fervent  praise  and  prayer, 
Or  on  the  earth,  or  in  the  skies. 

The  Heaven  of  God  is  there. 

His  presence  there  is  spread  abroad 

Through  realms,  through  worlds  unknown  ; 

Who  seeks  the  mercies  of  his  God 
Is  ever  near  His  Throne. 

William  Drennan.  18 15. 


CXXXVIII. 

How  blest  the  sacred  tie  that  binds, 
In  union  sweet,  according  minds; 
How  swift  the  heavenly  course  they  run, 
Whose  hearts,  whose  faith,  whose  hopes  are  oie 

To  each  the  soul  of  each  how  dear  ! 
What  jealous  love,  what  holy  fear  ! 
How  doth  the  generous  flame  within 
Refme  from  earth,  and  cleanse  from  sin  ! 


152  The  Book  of  Praise. 

Their  streaming  tears  together  flow 
For  human  guilt  and  mortal  woe  ; 
Their  ardent  prayers  together  rise 
Like  mingling  flames  in  sacrifice. 

Together  both  they  seek  the  place 
Where  God  reveals  His  awful  face  ; 
How  high,  how  strong,  their  raptures  swell, 
There's  none  but  kindred  souls  can  tell. 

Nor  shall  the  glowing  flame  expire, 
When  nature  droops  her  sickening  fire  ; 
Then  shall  they  meet  in  realms  above  ; 
A  heaven  of  joy,  because  of  love. 

Amia  LcBtitia  Bcwbauld.  [1773.] 

cxxxix, 

O  quam  jtivat fratres,  Dens. 

O  Lord,  how  joyful  'tis  to  see 
The  brethren  join  in  love  to  Thee  ; 
On  Thee  alone  their  heart  relies, 
Their  only  strength  Thy  grace  supplies. 

How  SAveet,  within  Thy  holy  place. 
With  one  accord  to  sing  Thy  grace, 
Besieging  Thine  attentive  ear 
With  all  the  force  of  fervent  prayer. 

O  may  we  love  the  house  of  God, 
Of  peace  and  joy  the  blest  abode  ; 
O  may  no  angry  strife  destroy 
That  sacred  peace,  that  holy  joy. 

The  world  without  may  rage,  but  we 
Will  only  cling  more  close  to  Thee, 
With  hearts  to  Thee  more  wholly  given. 
More  wean'd  from  earth,  more  fix'd  on  Heaven. 


The  Conwiunioji  of  Saints.  153 

Lord,  shower  upon  us  from  above 
The  sacred  gift  of  mutual  love  ; 
Each  other's  wants  may  we  supply, 
And  reign  together  in  the  sky. 

John  Chandler.   1S37. 


CXL. 

Come,  let  us  join  our  friends  above, 

That  have  obtain'd  the  prize, 
And  on  the  eagle  wings  of  love 

To  joy  celestial  rise. 
Let  all  the  saints  terrestrial  sing 

With  those  to  glory  gone. 
For  all  the  servants  of  our  King, 

In  earth  and  Heaven,  are  one. 

One  family,  we  dwell  in  Him, 

One  Church,  above,  beneath. 
Though  now  divided  by  the  stream, 

The  narrow  stream  of  death. 
One  army  of  the  living  God, 

To  His  command  we  bow  ; 
Part  of  His  host  hath  cross'd  the  flood, 

And  part  is  crossing  now. 

Ten  thousand  to  their  endless  home 

This  solemn  moment  fly  ; 
And  we  are  to  the  margin  come. 

And  we  expect  to  die  ; 
His  militant  embodied  host 

With  wishful  looks  we  stand, 
And  long  to  see  that  happy  coast, 

And  reach  that  heavenlv  land. 


154  The  Book  of  Praise. 

Our  old  companions  in  distress 

We  haste  again  to  see, 
And  eager  long  for  our  release 

And  full  felicity : 
Even  now  by  faith  we  join  our  hands 

With  those  that  went  before, 
And  greet  the  blood-besprinkled  bands 

On  the  eternal  shore. 

Our  spirits  too  shall  quickly  join, 

Like  theirs  with  glory  crown'd, 
And  shout  to  see  our  Captain's  sign, 

To  hear  His  trumpet  sound. 
Oh  !  that  we  now  might  grasp  our  Guide  ! 

Oh  !  that  the  word  were  given  ! 
Come,  Lord  of  hosts  !  the  waves  divide. 

And  land  us  all  in  Heaven  ! 

Charles  Wesley.  1759. 

CXLI. 

Hosanna  to  the  Living  Lord  ! 
Hosanna  to  the  Incarnate  Word  ! 
To  Christ,  Creator,  Saviour,  King, 
Let  earth,  let  Heaven,  Hosanna  sing. 

Hosanna !  Lord  !  Hosanna  in  the  highest ! 

"  Hosanna,"  Lord,  Thine  angels  cry  ; 
"  Hosanna,"  Lord,  Thy  saints  reply  : 
Above,  beneath  us,  and  around, 
The  dead  and  living  swell  the  sound. 

Hosanna  !  Lord  !  Hosanna  in  the  highest ! 

O  Saviour,  with  protecting  care 
Return  to  this  Thy  house  of  prayer, 
Assembled  in  Thy  sacred  Name, 
Where  we  Thy  parting  promise  claim. 

Hosanna  !  Lord  !  Hosanna  in  the  highest ! 


The  Forgiveness  of  Sins .  155 

But,  chiefest,  in  our  cleansed  breast, 
Eternal,  bid  Thy  Spirit  rest  ; 
And  make  our  secret  soul  to  be 
A  temple  pure,  and  worthy  Thee. 

Hosanna  !  Lord  !  Hosanna  in  the  highest ! 

So,  in  the  last  and  dreadful  day, 
When  earth  and  Heaven  shall  melt  away, 
Thy  flock,  redeem'd  from  sinful  stain. 
Shall  swell  the  sound  of  praise  again. 

Hosanna  !  Lord  !  Hosanna  in  the  highest ! 
Bishop  Reginald  Heber.  1 8 1 1 . 


XL 

THE   FORGIVENESS    OF   SINS. 
"  I  acknoiuledge  one  Baptisvi  for  the  Revtission  of  Sins,' 

CXLII. 

Psalm  CIII. 

My  soul,  repeat  His  praise 
Whose  mercies  are  so  great, 
Wliose  anger  is  so  slow  to  rise, 
So  ready  to  abate. 

High  as  the  heavens  arc  raised 
Above  the  ground  we  tread, 
So  far  the  riches  of  His  grace 
Our  highest  thoughts  exceed. 

His  power  subdues  our  sins  ; 
And  His  forgiving  love, 
Far  as  the  cast  is  from  the  west, 
Doth  all  our  guilt  remove. 


156  The  Book  of  Praise. 

The  pity  of  the  Lord 
To  those  that  fear  His  Name, 
Is  such  as  tender  parents  feel ; 
He  knows  our  feeble  frame. 

Our  days  are  as  the  grass, 
Or  like  the  morning  flower  ; 
If  one  sharp  blast  sweep  o'er  the  field, 
It  withers  in  an  hour. 

But  Thy  compassions,  Lord, 
To  endless  years  endure. 
And  children's  children  ever  find 
Thy  words  of  promise  sure. 

Isaac  Watts.   1719 

CXLIII. 

There  is  a  fountain  fill'd  with  blood 
Drawn  from  Emmanuel's  veins  ; 

And  sinners,  plunged  beneath  that  flood, 
Lose  all  their  guilty  stains. 

The  dying  thief  rejoiced  to  see 

That  fountain  in  his  day ; 
And  there  have  I,  as  vile  as  he, 

Wash'd  all  my  sins  away. 

Dear  dying  Lamb  !  Thy  precious  Blood 

Shall  never  lose  its  power, 
Till  all  the  ransom'd  Church  of  God 

Be  saved,  to  sin  no  more. 

E'er  since,  by  faith,  I  saw  the  stream 

Thy  flowing  wounds  supply, 
Redeeming  love  has  been  my  theme, 

And  shall  be  till  I  die. 


The  Forgiveness  of  Sins.  \  5  7 

Then  in  a  nobler,  sweeter  song 

I'll  sing  Thy  power  to  save, 
When  this  poor  lisping,  stammering  tongue 

Lies  silent  in  the  grave. 

Lord,  I  believe  Thou  hast  prepared, 

Unworthy  though  I  be, 
For  me  a  blood-bought  free  reward, 

A  golden  harp  for  me : 

'Tis  strung,  and  tuned  for  endless  years. 

And  form'd  by  power  divine, 
To  sound  in  God  the  Father's  ears, 

No  other  Name  but  Thine. 

William  Cowper.  1779. 

CXLIV. 

Jesu,  Thou  art  my  Righteousness, 

For  all  my  sins  were  Thine  ; 
Thy  death  hath  bought  of  God  my  peace. 

Thy  life  hath  made  Him  mine. 

Spotless  and  just  in  Thee  I  am  ; 

I  feel  my  sins  forgiven  ; 
I  taste  salvation  in  Thy  Name, 

And  antedate  my  heaven. 

For  ever  here  my  rest  shall  be. 

Close  to  Thy  bleeding  side  ; 
This  all  my  hope,  and  all  my  plea, 

For  me  the  Saviour  died  ! 

My  dying  Saviour  and  my  God, 

Fountain  for  guilt  and  sin, 
Sprinkle  me  ever  with  Thy  Blood, 

And  cleanse  and  keep  me  clean  ! 


158  The  Book  of  Praise, 

Wash  me,  and  make  me  thus  Thine  own  ; 

Wash  me,  and  mine  Thou  art  ! 
Wash  me,  but  not  my  feet  alone  : 

My  hands,  my  head,  my  heart  ! 

Th'  atonement  of  Thy  Blood  apply, 

Till  faith  to  sight  improve  ; 
Till  hope  in  full  fruition  die. 

And  all  my  soul  be  love. 

Charles  Wesley.  1740. 


CXLV. 

Rock  of  Ages,  cleft  for  me, 

Let  me  hide  myself  in  Thee  ! 

Let  the  water  and  the  blood. 

From  Thy  riven  side  which  flowed, 

Be  of  sin  the  double  cure. 

Cleanse  me  from  its  guilt  and  power. 

Not  the  labours  of  my  hands 
Can  fulfil  Thy  law's  demands  ; 
Could  my  zeal  no  respite  know, 
Could  my  tears  for  ever  flow, 
All  for  sin  could  not  atone  ; 
Thou  must  save,  and  Thou  alone. 

Nothing  in  my  hand  I  bring  ; 
Simply  to  Thy  Cross  I  cling  ; 
Naked,  come  to  Thee  for  dress  ; 
Helpless,  look  to  Thee  for  grace  ; 
Foul,  I  to  the  Fountain  fly  ; 
Wash  me,  Saviour,  or  I  die  ! 


The  Forgiveness  of  Sins.  1 5  9 

While  I  draw  this  fleeting  breath, 
When  my  eyestrings  break  in  death, 
When  I  soar  through  tracts  unknown, 
See  Thee  on  Thy  judgment-throne  ; 
Rock  of  Ages,  cleft  for  me, 
Let  me  hide  myself  in  Thee  ! 

Augustus  Montague  Toplady.  lyyt 


CXLVT. 

God  of  my  salvation,  hear. 
And  help  me  to  believe  ; 

Simply  do  I  now  draw  near, 
Thy  blessing  to  receive. 

Full  of  guilt,  alas  !  I  am. 
But  to  Thy  wounds  for  refuge  flee  ; 

Friend  of  sinners  !  spotless  Lamb  ! 
Thy  Blood  was  shed  for  me. 

Standing  now  as  newly  slain, 
To  Thee  I  lift  mine  eye  ; 

Balm  of  all  my  grief  and  pain, 
Thy  Blood  is  always  nigh  ; 

Now  as  yesterday  the  same 
Thou  art,  and  v>'ilt  for  ever  be  ; 

P>iend  of  sinners  !  spotless  Lamb  ! 
Thy  Blood  was  shed  for  me. 

Nothing  have  I,  Lord,  to  pay, 
Nor  can  Thy  grace  procure  ; 

Empty  send  me  not  away, 

For  I,  Thou  know'st,  am  poor : 

Dust  and  ashes  is  my  name, 
My  all  is  sin  and  miser)' ; 

Friend  of  sinners  !  spotless  Lamb  ! 
Thy  Blood  was  shed  for  me. 


i6o  The  Book  of  Praise. 

No  good  work,  or  word,  or  thought, 

Bring  I  to  gain  Thy  grace  ; 
Pardon  I  accept  unbought, 

Thy  proffer  I  embrace  ; 
Coming,  as  at  first  I  came, 
To  take,  and  not  bestow  on  Thee  ; 
Friend  of  sinners  !  spotless  Lamb ! 

Thy  Blood  was  shed  for  me. 

Saviour  !  from  Thy  wounded  side 

I  never  will  depart ; 
Here  will  I  my  spirit  hide 

When  I  am  pure  in  heart : 

Till  my  place  above  I  claim, 

This  only  shall  be  all  my  plea, 

Friend  of  sinners  !  spotless  Lamb  ! 
Thy  Blood  was  shed  for  me. 

Charles  Wesley.  174.2. 


CXLVII. 

Just  as  I  am,  without  one  plea 
But  that  Thy  Blood  was  shed  for  me, 
And  that  Thou  bidd'st  me  come  to  Thee, 
O  Lamb  of  God,  I  come  ! 

Just  as  I  am,  and  waiting  not 
To  rid  my  soul  of  one  dark  blot, 
To"  Thee,  whose  Blood  can  cleanse  each  spot, 
O  Lamb  of  God,  I  come  ! 

Just  as  I  am,  though  toss'd  about 
With  many  a  conilict,  many  a  doubt, 
Fightings  and  fears  within,  without, 
O  Lamb  of  God,  I  come  I 


The  Forgivejiess  of  Si7is.  i6i 

Just  as  I  am,  poor,  wretched,  blind, 
Sight,  riches,  healing  of  the  mind, 
Yea,  all  I  need,  in  Thee  to  find, 
O  Lamb  of  God,  I  come  ! 

Just  as  I  am.  Thou  wilt  receive. 
Wilt  welcome,  pardon,  cleanse,  relieve  ! 
Because  Thy  promise  I  believe, 
O  Lamb  of  God,  I  come  ! 

Just  as  I  am,  (Thy  Love  unknown 
Has  broken  every  barrier  down,) 
Now,  to  be  Thine,  yea.  Thine  alone, 
O  Lamb  of  God,  I  come  ! 

Just  as  I  am,  of  that  free  love 
The  breadth,  length,  depth,  and  height  to  prove, 
Here  for  a  season,  then  above, 
O  Lamb  of  God,  I  come  ! 

Charlotte  Elliott.  1836. 

CXLVITI. 

When  wounded  sore  the  stricken  soul 

Lies  bleeding  and  unbound, 
One  only  hand,  a  pierced  hand. 

Can  salve  the  sinner's  wound. 


And  tears  of  anguish  flow, 
One  only  heart,  a  broken  heart, 
Can  feel  the  sinner's  woe. 

When  penitence  has  wept  in  vain 
Over  some  foul  dark  spot, 

One  only  stream,  a  stream  of  blood, 
Can  wash  away  the  blot. 

'Tis  Jesus'  blood  that  washes  white, 
His  hand  that  brings  relief, 

M 


The  Book  of  Praise. 

His  heart  that's  touch'd  with  all  our  joys 
A_nd  feeleth  for  our  grief. 

Lift  up  Thy  bleeding  hand,  O  Lord  ; 

Unseal  that  cleansing  tide  ; 
We  have  no  shelter  from  our  sin, 

But  in  Thy  wounded  side. 

Cecil  Frances  A  lexa^tder.  1 85 ! 


xn. 

RESURRECTION  AND  ETERNAL  LIFE. 

And  I  look  for   the  Kestirrectioji  of  the  dead,  and  the 
Life  of  the  ivorld  to  come.     Amen." 

CXLIX. 

Earth  to  earth,  and  dust  to  dust, 
Lord,  we  own  the  sentence  just ; 
Head  and  tongue,  and  hand  and  heart, 
All  in  guilt  have  borne  their  part ; 
Righteous  is  the  common  doom, 
All  must  moulder  in  the  tomb. 

Like  the  seed  in  spring-time  sown. 
Like  the  leaves  in  autumn  strown, 
Low  these  goodly  frames  must  lie. 
All  our  pomp  and  glory  die  ; 
Soon  the  Spoiler  seeks  his  prey, 
Soon  he  bears  us  all  away. 

Yet  the  seed,  upraised  again, 
Clothes  with  green  the  smiling  plain  ; 
Onward  as  the  seasons  move, 
Leaves  and  blossoms  deck  the  grove  ; 
And  shall  we  forgotten  lie. 
Lost  for  ever,  when  we  die  ? 


Resurrection  and  Eternal  Life.  1 63 

Lord,  from  Nature's  gloomy  night 
Turn  we  to  the  Gospel's  light ; 
Thou  didst  triumph  o'er  the  grave, 
Thou  wilt  all  Thy  people  save  ; 
Ransom'd  by  Thy  Blood,  the  just 
Rise  immortal  from  the  dust. 

John  Hampden  Gnrney.  1830. 

CL. 

O  God,  Thy  grace  and  blessing  give 
To  us,  who  on  thy  Name  attend. 

That  we  this  mortal  life  may  live 
Regardful  of  our  journey's  end. 

Teach  us  to  know  that  Jesus  died, 
And  rose  again,  our  souls  to  save ; 

Teach  us  to  take  Him  as  our  Guide, 
Our  Help  from  childhood  to  the  grave. 

Then  shall  not  death  with  terror  come. 
But  welcome  as  a  bidden  guest, 

The  herald  of  a  better  home, 
The  messenger  of  peace  and  rest. 

And,  when  the  awful  signs  appear 
Of  Judgment,  and  the  Throne  above. 

Our  hearts  still  fix'd,  we  shall  not  fear, 
God  is  our  trust ;  and  God  is  Love. 

Anon.  [1853.] 

CLI. 

Dearest  of  names,  our  Lord,  our  King  ! 
Jesus,  Thy  praise  we  humbly  sing  : 
In  cheerful  songs  we'll  spend  our  breath. 
And  in  Thee  triumph  over  death. 
M  2 


The  Book  of  Praise. 

Death  is  no  more  among  our  foes, 
Since  Christ,  the  mighty  Conqueror,  rose  ; 
Both  power  and  sting  the  Saviour  broke  ; 
He  died,  and  gave  the  finish'd  stroke. 

Saints  die,  and  we  should  gently  weep  ; 
Sweetly  in  Jesus'  arms  they  sleep  ; 
Far  from  this  world  of  sin  and  woe, 
Nor  sin,  nor  pain,  nor  grief,  they  know. 

Death  no  terrific  foe  appears  ; 
An  angel's  lovely  form  he  wears  ; 
A  friendly  messenger  he  proves 
To  every  soul  whom  Jesus  loves. 

Death  is  a  sleep  ;  and  O  !  how  sweet 
To  souls  prepared  its  stroke  to  meet  ! 
Their  dying  beds,  their  graves  are  blest. 
For  all  to  them  is  peace  and  rest. 

Their  bodies  sleep  ;  their  souls  take  wing, 
Uprise  to  Heaven,  and  there  they  sing 
With  joy  before  the  Saviour's  face, 
Triumphant  in  victorious  grace. 

Soon  shall  the  earth's  remotest  bound 
Feel  the  Archangel's  trumpet  sound  ; 
Then  shall  the  grave's  dark  caverns  shake, 
And  joyful  all  the  saints  shall  Avake. 

Bodies?and  souls  shall  then  unite, 
Arrayed  in  glory,  strong  and  bright ; 
And  all  His  saints  will  Jesus  bring 
His  face  to  see,  His  love  to  sins:. 


Restirrectioji  and  Eternal  Life.  165 

0  may  I  live,  with  Jesus  nigh, 
And  sleep  in  Jesus  when  I  die  ! 
Then,  joyful,  when  from  death  I  wake, 

1  shall  eternal  bliss  partake. 

Samuel  Medley.     1 800. 


CLII. 

We  sing  His  love,  Who  once  was  slain. 
Who  soon  o'er  death  revived  again. 
That  all  His  saints  through  Him  might  have 
Eternal  conquests  o'er  the  grave. 

Soon  shall  the  trumpet  sound,  and  we 

Shall  rise  to  immortality. 

The  saints,  who  now  with  Jesus  sleep, 
His  own  Almighty  power  shall  keep, 
Till  dawns  the  bright  illustrious  day 
When  death  itself  shall  die  away  : 

Soon  shall  the  trumpet  sound,  and  we 

Shall  rise  to  immortality. 

How  loud  shall  our  glad  voices  sing, 
When  Christ  His  risen  saints  shall  bring 
From  beds  of  dust,  and  silent  clay, 
To  realms  of  everlasting  day  ! 

Soon  shall  the  trumpet  sound,  and  we 

Shall  rise  to  immortality. 

When  Jesus  we  in  glory  meet, 
Our  utmost  joys  shall  be  complete  ; 
When  landed  on  that  heavenly  shore, 
Death  and  the  curse  will  be  no  more  : 

Soon  shall  the  trumpet  sound,  and  we 

Shall  rise  to  immortality. 


1 66  The  Book  of  Praise. 

Hasten,  dear  Lord,  the  glorious  day, 
And  this  dehghtful  scene  display, 
When  all  Thy  saints  from  death  shall  rise 
Raptured  in  bliss  beyond  the  skies  ! 

Soon  shall  the  trumpet  sound,  and  we 

Shall  rise  to  immortality. 

Roiulaiid  Hill.  1 796. 

CLIII. 

My  life's  a  shade,  my  days 
Apace  to  death  decline  ; 
My  Lord  is  Life,  He'll  raise 
My  dust  again,  ev'n  mine. 

Sweet  truth  to  me  ! 

I  shall  arise, 

And  with  these  eyes 

JNIy  Saviour  see. 

My  peaceful  grave  shall  keep 
iMy  bones  till  that  sweet  day  ; 
I  wake  from  my  long  sleep 
And  leave  my  bed  of  clay. 

Sweet  truth  to  me  ! 

I  shall  arise, 

And  with  these  eyes 

My  Saviour  see. 

My  Lord  His  angels  shall 
Their  golden  trumpets  sound, 
At  whose  most  welcome  call 
My  grave  shall  be  unbound. 

Sweet  truth  to  me  ! 

I  shall  arise, 

And  with  these  eye- 

My  Saviour  see. 


Resurrection  and  Eternal  Life,  167 

I  said  sometimes  with  tears, 
Ah  me  !  I'm  loth  to  die  ! 
Lord,  silence  Thou  these  fears  : 
My  life's  with  Thee  on  high. 

Sweet  truth  to  m.e  ! 

I  shall  arise, 

And  with  these  eyes 

My  Saviour  see. 

What  means  my  trembling  heart, 
To  be  thus  shy  of  death  ? 
My  Life  and  I  sha'nt  part. 
Though  I  resign  my  breath. 

Sweet  truth  to  me  ! 

I  shall  arise, 

And  with  these  eyes 

My  Saviour  see. 

Then  welcome,  harmless  grave  ! 
By  thee  to  heaven  I'll  go  : 
My  Lord  His  death  shall  save 
Me  from  the  flames  below. 

Sweet  truth  to  me  ! 

I  shall  arise, 

And  with  these  eyes 

My  Saviour  see. 

Samuel  Crossnian.  1664. 


CLIV. 

Why  do  we  mourn  departing  friends. 
Or  shake  at  death's  alarms  ? 

'Tis  but  the  voice  that  Jesus  sends 
To  call  them  to  His  arms. 


1 68  The  Book  of  Praise. 

Are  we  not  tending  upward  too, 

As  fast  as  time  can  move  ? 
Nor  would  we  wish  the  hours  more  siow 

To  keep  us  from  our  love. 

Why  should  we  tremble  to  convey 

Their  bodies  to  the  tomb  ? 
There  the  dear  flesh  of  Jesus  lay^ 

And  left  a  long  perfume. 

The  graves  of  all  His  saints  He  bless'd, 

And  softened  every  bed  : 
Where  should  the  dying  members  rest, 

But  with  the  dying  Head  ? 

Thence  He  arose,  ascending  high, 
And  showed  our  feet  the  way  ; 

Up  to  the  Lord  oar  flesh  shall  fly 
At  the  great  rising  day. 

Then  let  the  last  loud  trumpet  sound, 

And  bid  our  kindred  rise  : 
Awake,  ye  nations  under  ground  ! 

Ye  saints,  ascend  the  skies  ! 

Isaac  Watts.  \yo(). 

CLV. 

Spirit !  leave  thine  house  of  clay  ! 

Lingering  dust,  resign  thy  breath  ! 
Spirit !  cast  thy  chains  away  ! 

Dust,  be  thou  dissolved  in  death  ! 
Thus  the  Almighty  Saviour  speaks. 

While  the  faithful  Christian  dies ; 
Thus  the  bonds  of  life  he  breaks. 

And  the  ransomed  captive  flies. 


ResmTcctioii  and  Ekrna^  Life.  1 69 

Prisoner,  long  detained  below  ; 

Prisoner,  now  with  freedom  blest ; 
Welcome  from  a  world  of  woe, 

Welcome  to  a  Land  of  Rest ! 
Thus  the  choir  of  angels  sing, 

As  they  bear  the  soul  on  high, 
While  with  hallelujahs  ring 

All  the  regions  ot  the  sky. 

Grave,  the  guardian  of  our  dust ! 

Grave,  the  treasury  of  the  skies ! 
Every  atom  of  thy  trust 

Rests  in  hope  again  to  rise. 
Hark  !  the  Judgment  trumpet  calls  : 

Soul,  rebuild  thy  house  of  clay. 
Immortality  thy  walls. 

And  Eternity  thy  day  ! 

Variatio?L  [181 2.I 
From  Jajnes  MoJtfgojnery.  1803, 

CLVI. 

Deathless  principle,  arise ! 
Soar,  thou  native  of  the  skies  ; 
Pearl  of  price,  by  Jesus  bought, 
To  His  glorious  likeness  wrought ! 

Go,  to  shine  before  His  throne  ; 
Deck  his  mediatorial  crown  ; 
Go,  His  triumphs  to  adorn  ; 
Made  for  God,  to  God  return  ! 

Lo,  He  beckons  from  on  high  ! 
Fearless  to  His  presence  tiy  ! 
Thine  the  merit  of  His  Blood  ; 
Thine  the  Righteousness  of  God. 


I/O  The  Book  of  Praise. 

Angels,  joyful  to  attend, 
Hovering  round  thy  pillow,  bend. 
Wait  to  catch  the  signal  given, 
And  escort  thee  quick  to  Heaven. 


Is  thy  earthly  house  distrest, 
Willing  to  retain  her  guest  ? 
'Tis  not  thou,  but  she,  must  die  ; 
Fly,  celestial  tenant,  fly  ! 

Burst  thy  shackles,  drop  thy  clay, 
Sweetly  breathe  thyself  away  ; 
Singing,  to  thy  crown  remove, 
Swift  of  wing,  and  fired  with  love. 

Shudder  not  to  pass  the  stream  ; 
Venture  all  thy  care  on  Him  ; 
Him,  whose  dying  love  and  power 
Still'd  its  tossing,  hush'd  its  roar. 

Safe  is  the  expanded  wave, 
Gentle  as  a  summer's  eve  ; 
Not  one  object  of  His  care 
Ever  suffered  shipwreck  there. 

See  the  haven  full  in  view  ; 
Love  Divine  shall  bear  thee  through 
Trust  to  that  propitious  gale  ; 
Weigh  thy  anchor,  spread  thy  sail. 

Saints,  in  glory  perfect  made, 

Wait  thy  passage  through  the  shade ; 

Ardent  for  thy  coming  o'er. 

See,  they  throng  the  blissful  shore  ! 


Resurrection  and  Eternal  Life.  lyi 

Mount,  their  transports  to  improve  ; 
Join  the  longing  choir  above  ; 
Swiftly  to  their  wish  be  given  ; 
Kindle  higher  joy  in  Heaven  ! 

Such  the  prospects  that  arise 
To  the  dying  Christian's  eyes  ; 
Such  the  glorious  vista  faith 
Opens  through  the  shades  of  death, 

Augustus  Montague  Toplady,  1777- 


CLVII, 

Happy  soul !  thy  days  are  ended, 

All  thy  mourning  days  below  ; 
Go,  by  angel  guards  attended, 

To  the  sight  of  Jesus  go  ! 
Waiting  to  receive  thy  spirit, 

Lo,  the  Saviour  stands  above, 
Shews  the  purchase  of  His  merit. 

Reaches  out  the  crown  of  love  ! 

Struggle  through  thy  latest  passion 

To  thy  dear  Redeemer's  breast, 
To  His  uttermost  salvation, 

To  His  everlasting  rest  ! 
For  the  joy  He  sets  before  thee. 

Bear  a  momentary  pain  ; 
Die,  to  live  the  life  of  glory  ; 

Suffer,  with  thy  Lord  to  reign  ! 

diaries  Wesley.  1749. 


172  The  Book  of  Praise. 


CLVIII. 

The  waves  of  trouble,  how  they  rise, 

How  loud  the  tempests  roar  ! 
But  death  shall  land  our  weary  scuis 

Safe  on  the  heavenly  shore. 

There,  to  fulfil  His  sweet  commands, 

Our  speedy  feet  shall  move  ; 
No  sin  shall  clog  our  winged  zeal, 

Or  cool  our  burning  love. 

There  shall  we  sit,  and  sing,  and  tell 

The  wonders  of  His  grace. 
Till  heavenly  raptures  fire  our  hearts, 

And  smile  in  every  face. 

For  ever  His  dear  sacred  Name 

Shall  dwell  upon  our  tongue, 
And  Jesus  and  salvation  be 

The  close  of  every  song. 

Isaac  Watts.   1709. 


CLIX. 

Ye  golden  lamps  of  heaven,  farewell. 

With  all  your  feeble  light  : 
Farewell,  thou  ever-changing  moon, 

Pale  empress  of  the  night. 

And  thou,  refulgent  orb  of  day, 

In  brighter  flames  array'd  ; 
My  soul,  that  springs  beyond  thy  sphere. 

No  more  demands  thine  aid. 


Resurrection  and  Eternal  Life.  1 73 

Ye  stars  are  but  the  shining  dust 

Of  my  divine  abode. 
The  pavement  of  those  heavenly  courts 

Where  I  shall  reign  with  God. 


The  Father  of  eternal  light 

Shall  there  His  beams  display, 
Nor  shall  one  moment's  darkness  mix 

With  that  unvaried  day. 

No  more  the  drops  of  piercing  grief 

Shall  swell  into  mine  eyes  ; 
Nor  the  meridian  sun  decline 

Amid  those  brighter  skies. 

There  all  the  millions  of  His  saints 

Shall  in  one  song  unite, 
And  each  the  bliss  of  all  shall  view 

With  infinite  delight. 

Philip  Doddridge.   1755. 


CLX. 

Far  from  these  narrow  scenes  of  night 

Unbounded  glories  rise, 
And  realms  of  infinite  delight, 

Unknown  to  mortal  eyes. 

Fair  distant  land  ;  could  mortal  eyes 

But  half  its  joys  explore, 
How  would  our  spirits  long  to  rise, 

And  dwell  on  earth  no  more  ! 


74  The  Book  of  Praise. 

There  pain  and  sickness  never  come, 
And  grief  no  more  complains  : 

Health  triumphs  in  immortal  bloom, 
And  endless  pleasure  reigns. 

No  cloud  those  blissful  regions  kno-v^ 

For  ever  bright  and  fair  ; 
For  sin,  the  source  of  mortal  woe, 

Can  never  enter  there. 

There  no  alternate  night  is  known. 

Nor  sun's  faint  sickly  ray  ; 
But  glory  from  the  sacred  Throne 

Spreads  everlasting  day. 

The  glorious  monarch  there  displays 
His  beams  of  wondrous  grace  ; 

His  happy  subjects  sing  His  praise, 
And  bow  before  His  face. 

O  may  the  heavenly  prospect  fire 

Our  hearts  with  ardent  love. 
Till  wings  of  faith  and  strong  desire 

Bear  every  thought  above  ! 

Prepare  us,  Lord,  by  grace  divine, 
For  Thy  bright  courts  on  high  ; 

Then  bid  our  spirits  rise,  and  join 
The  chorus  of  the  sky. 

An?ie  Steele.  1760. 


Rcsicrrcction  and  Eternal  Life.  1 75 


CLXI. 

There  is  a  land  of  pure  delight, 

Where  saints  immortal  reign, 
Infinite  day  excludes  the  night, 

And  pleasures  banish  pain. 

There  everlasting  spring  abides, 

And  never  withering  flowers  ; 
Death,  like  a  narrow  sea,  divides 

This  heavenly  land  from  ours. 

Sweet  fields  beyond  the  swelling  flood 

Stand  dress'd  in  living  green  : 
So  to  the  Jews  old  Canaan  stood, 

While  Jordan  roll'd  between. 

But  timorous  mortals  start  and  shrink 

To  cross  this  narrow  sea, 
And  linger  shivering  on  the  brink, 

And  fear  to  launch  away. 

O  !  could  we  make  our  doubts  remove, 

These  gloomy  doubts  that  rise. 
And  see  the  Canaan  that  we  love 

With  unbcclouded  eyes  ; 

Could  we  but  climb  where  Moses  stood. 

And  view  the  landscape  o'er  ; 
Not  Jordan's  stream,  nor  death's  cold  flood, 

Should  fright  us  from  the  shore. 

Isaac  Watts.   1709. 


\j6  The  Book  of  Praise. 

CLXII. 

There  is  a  blessed  Home 

Beyond  this  land  of  woe, 
Where  trials  never  come, 

Nor  tears  of  sorrow  flow  ; 
Vvhere  faith  is  lost  in  sight. 

And  patient  hope  is  crown'd, 
And  everlasting  light 

Its  glory  throws  around. 

There  is  a  land  of  peace, 

Good  angels  know  it  well ; 
Glad  songs  that  never  cease 

Within  its  portals  swell ; 
Around  its  glorious  Throne 

Ten  thousand  saints  adore 
Christ,  with  the  Father  One, 

And  Spirit,  evermore. 

O  joy  all  joys  beyond, 

To  see  the  Lamb  who  died, 
And  count  each  sacred  wound 

In  hands,  and  feet,  and  side  ; 
To  give  to  Him  the  praise 

Of  every  triumph  won. 
And  sing  through  endless  days 

The  great  things  He  hath  done. 

Look  up,  ye  saints  of  God, 

Nor  fear  to  tread  below 
The  path  your  Saviour  trod 

Of  daily  toil  and  woe  ; 
Wait  but  a  little  while 

In  uncomplaining  love, 
His  own  most  gracious  smile 

Shall  welcome  you  above. 

Sir  Henry  Baker.  t86i. 


Resnrrectio7i  and  Eternal  Life.  i  'j'j 


CLXiir. 

The  roseate  hues  of  early  dawn, 

The  brightness  of  the  day, 
The  crimson  of  the  sunset  sky, 

How  fast  they  fade  away  ! 
Oh  !  for  the  pearly  gates  of  heaven  ! 

Oh  !  for  the  golden  floor  ! 
Oh  !  for  the  Sun  of  Righteousness 

That  setteth  nevermore ! 

The  highest  hopes  we  cherish  here, 

How  fast  they  tire  and  faint ! 
How  many  a  spot  defiles  the  robe 

That  wraps  an  earthly  saint ! 
Oh  !  for  a  heart  that  never  sins  ! 

Oh  !  for  a  soul  wash'd  white  ! 
Oh  !  for  a  voice  to  praise  our  King, 

Nor  weary  day  or  night  ! 

Here  faith  is  ours,  and  heavenly  hope, 

And  grace  to  lead  us  higher ; 
But  there  are  perfectness  and  peace 

Beyond  our  best  desire. 
Oh  !  by  Thy  love  and  anguish,  Lord  ! 

Oh  !  by  Thy  life  laid  down  ! 
Oh  !  that  we  fall  not  from  Thy  grace, 

Nor  cast  away  our  crown  ! 

Cecil  Frances  Alexander.  [1853.] 

CLXIV. 

Friend  after  friend  departs  ; 

Who  hath  not  lost  a  friend  ? 

There  is  no  union  here  of  hearts, 

N 


173  The  Book  of  Praise, 

That  finds  not  here  an  end  : 
Were  this  frail  world  our  only  rest, 
Living  or  dying,  none  were  blest. 

Beyond  the  flight  of  time, 

Beyond  this  vale  of  death, 
There  surely  is  some  blessed  clime, 

Where  life  is  not  a  breath, 
Nor  life's  affections  transient  fire, 
Whose  sparks  fly  upwards  to  expire. 

There  is  a  world  above, 
WTiere  parting  is  unknown  \ 

A  whole  eternity  of  love, 
Form'd  for  the  good  alone  : 

And  faith  beholds  the  dying  here 

Translated  to  that  happier  sphere. 

'I'hus  star  by  star  declines 

Till  all  are  pass'd  away, 
As  morning  high  and  higher  shines 

To  pure  and  perfect  day  ; 
Nor  sink  those  stars  in  empty  night ; 
rhey  hide  themselves  in  heaven's  own  light. 
James  Montgomery,  1824. 


CLXV. 

Rise,  my  soul,  and  stretch  thy  wings, 

Thy  better  portion  trace  ; 
Rise  from  transitory  things 

Towards  Heaven,  thy  native  place. 
Sun  and  moon  and  stars  decay  ; 
Time  shall  soon  this  earth  remove ; 
Rise,  my  soul^  and  haste  away 

To  seats  prepared  above. 


Res7irrection  and  Eternal  Life.  lyg 

Rivers  to  the  ocean  run, 

Nor  stay  in  all  their  course  ; 
Fire  ascending  seeks  the  sun  ; 

Both  speed  them  to  their  source : 
So  my  soul,  derived  from  God, 
Pants  to  view  His  glorious  face, 
Forward  tends  to  His  abode, 

To  rest  in  His  embrace. 

Fly  me  Riches,  fly  me  Cares, 

Whilst  I  that  coast  explore  ; 
Flattering  vv^orld,  with  all  thy  snares, 

Solicit  me  no  more  ! 
Pilgrims  fix  not  here  their  home  ; 
Strangers  tarry  but  a  night ; 
When  the  last  dear  morn  is  come, 

They'll  rise  to  joyful  light. 

Cease,  ye  pilgrims,  cease  to  mourn  ; 

Press  onward  to  the  prize  ; 
Soon  our  Saviour  will  return 

Triumphant  in  the  skies. 
Yet  a  season,  and  you  know 
Happy  entrance  will  be  given, 
All  our  sorrows  left  below. 

And  earth  exchanged  for  heaven. 

r.ohe^-t  Seai^rave.  1 748. 


N  2 


I  So  The  Book  of  Praise. 


CLXVI. 

We  seek  a  rest  beyond  the  skies, 

In  everlasting  day  ; 
Through  floods  and  flames  the  passage  Hes, 

But  Jesus  guards  the  way  : 
The  swelHng  flood,  and  raging  flame. 

Hear  and  obey  His  Avord  ; 
Then  let  us  triumph  in  His  Name  ; 

Our  Saviour  is  the  Lord  ! 

John  Newton.  1779. 


CLXVII. 

There  is  an  hour,  when  I  must  part 
With  all  I  hold  most  dear  ; 

And  life,  with  its  best  hopes,  will  then 
As  nothingness  appear. 

There  is  an  hour,  when  I  must  lie 

Low  on  affliction's  bed. 
And  anguish,  pain,  and  tears  become 

My  bitter  daily  bread. 

There  is  an  hour,  when  I  must  sink 
Beneath  the  stroke  of  death. 

And  yield  to  Him,  who  gave  it  first, 
My  struggling  vital  breath. 

There  is  an  hour,  when  I  must  stand 

Before  the  judgment  seat, 
And  all  my  sins,  and  all  my  foes, 

In  awful  vision  meet. 


Resurrection  mid  Eternal  Life.  1 8 1 

There  is  an  hour,  when  I  must  look 

On  one  eternity, 
And  nameless  woe,  or  blissful  life, 

My  endless  portion  be. 

O  Saviour,  then,  in  all  my  need, 

Be  near,  be  near  to  me  ; 
And  let  my  soul,  in  stedfast  faith, 

Find  life  and  Heaven  in  Thee  ! 

Andrew  Reed.  1842. 


CLXVIIT. 

Psalm  XC. 

Our  God,  our  help  in  ages  past. 
Our  hope  for  years  to  come. 

Our  shelter  from  the  stormy  blast, 
And  our  eternal  home  : 

Under  the  shadow  of  Thy  Throne 
Thy  saints  have  dwelt  secure  ; 

Sufficient  is  Thine  arm  alone, 
And  our  defence  is  sure. 

Before  the  hills  in  order  stood. 
Or  earth  received  her  frame. 

From  everlasting  Thou  art  God, 
To  endless  years  the  same. 

A  thousand  ages  in  Thy  sight 

Are  like  an  evening  gone  ; 
Short  as  the  watch  that  ends  the  night 

Before  the  rising  sun. 


1 82  The  Book  of  Praise. 

The  busy  tribes  of  flesh  and  blood, 
With  all  their  lives  and  cares, 

Are  carried  downwards  by  Thy  flood, 
And  lost  in  following  years. 

Time,  like  an  ever-rolling  streain, 

Bears  all  its  sons  away  ; 
They  fly  forgotten,  as  a  dream 

Dies  at  the  opening  day. 

Our  God,  our  help  in  ages  past ; 

Our  hope  for  years  to  come  ; 
Be  Thou  our  guard  while  troubles  last, 

And  our  eternal  home  ! 

Isaac  Watts,  1719. 


END  OF  PART  I. 


PART  II. 

HYMNS  ARRANGED  ACCORDING  TO  THE 
SUBJECTS  OF  THE  LORD'S  PRAYER. 


t  §odI\  of  fraist. 

PART  THE   SECOND. 


LORD,   TEACH    US   TO   PRAY." 

{L7d'e  xi.  I.) 


CLXTX. 

Prayer  is  the  soul's  sincere  desire, 

Utter'd,  -or  unexpress'd  ; 
The  motion  of  a  hidden  fire 

That  trembles  in  the  breast. 

Prayer  is  the  burthen  of  a  sigh, 

The  falling  of  a  tear, 
The  upward  glancing  of  the  eye, 

When  none  but  God  is  near. 

Prayer  is  the  simplest  form  of  speech 

That  infant  lips  can  try  ; 
Prayer  the  sublimest  strains  that  reach 

The  Majesty  on  high. 

Prayer  is  the  contrite  sinner's  voice 

Returning  from  his  ways. 
While  angels  in  their  songs  rejoice, 

And  cry,  P>ehold,  he  prays  ! 


1 86  71ie  Book  of  Praise. 

Prayer  is  the  Christian's  vital  breath, 

The  Christian's  native  air ; 
His  watchword  at  the  gates  of  death  ; 

He  enters  Heaven  with  prayer. 

The  saints,  in  prayer,  appear  as  one 
In  word,  and  deed,  and  mind  ; 

While  with  the  Father  and  the  Son 
Sweet  fellovv'ship  they  find. 

Nor  prayer  is  made  by  man  alone  : 

The  Holy  Spirit  pleads  ; 
And  Jesus,  on  the  eternal  Throne, 

For  mourners  intercedes. 

O  Thou,  by  Whom  we  come  to  God  ! 

The  Life,  the  Truth,  the  Way ! 
The  path  of  prayer  Thyself  hast  trod : 

Lord !  teach  us  how  to  pray ! 

James  Montgomery.  1S19. 


OUR  FATHER,  WHICH   ART  LV   HEAVEN 
HALLOWED   BE   THY   NAME." 

CLXX. 

Psalm  LXHL 

O  God,  Thou  art  my  God  alone  ; 

Early  to  Thee  my  soul  shall  cry  ; 
A  pilgrim  in  a  land  unknown, 

A  thirsty  land  whose  springs  are  dry. 


"  Our  Father^  luhich  art  in  Heaven y       187 

Oh !  that  it  were  as  it  hath  been ! 

When,  praying  in  the  holy  place, 
Thy  power  and  glory  I  have  seen, 

And  marked  the  footsteps  of  Thy  grace ! 

Yet,  through  this  rough  and  thorny  maze, 
I  follow  hard  on  Thee,  my  God  : 

Thine  hand  unseen  upholds  my  ways  ; 
I  safely  tread  where  Thou  hast  trod. 

Thee,  in  the  watches  of  the  night. 

When  I  remember  on  my  bed. 
Thy  Presence  makes  the  darkness  light. 

Thy  guardian  wings  are  round  my  head. 

Better  than  life  itself  Thy  love, 

Dearer  than  all  beside  to  me  : 
For  whom  have  I  in  Heaven  above. 

Or  what  on  earth  compared  to  Thee? 

Praise  with  my  heart,  my  mind,  my  voice, 

For  all  Thy  mercy  I  will  give  ; 
My  soul  shall  still  in  God  rejoice  ; 

My  tongue  shall  bless  Thee  while  I  live, 
James  Montgomery.  1822. 


CLXXT. 

Psalm  CXLV. 

My  God,  my  King,  Thy  various  praise 
Shall  fill  the  remnant  of  my  days  ; 
Thy  grace  employ  my  humble  tongue, 
Till  death  and  glory  raise  the  song. 


1 88  The  Book  of  Praise. 

The  wings  of  every  hour  shall  bear 
Some  thankful  tribute  to  Thine  ear, 
And  every  setting  sun  shall  see 
New  works  of  duty  done  for  Thee. 

Thy  truth  and  justice  I'll  proclaim  ; 
Thy  bounty  flows,  an  endless  stream  ; 
Thy  mercy  swift,  Thine  anger  slow, 
But  dreadful  to  the  stubborn  foe. 

But  who  can  speak  Thy  wondrous  deeds  ? 
Thy  greatness  all  our  thoughts  exceeds  ; 
Vast  and  unsearchable  Thy  ways, 
Vast  and  immortal  be  Thy  praise  ! 

Isaac  Watts.   1719. 


CLXXII. 

Psalm  CXXXIX. 

Lord,  Thou  hast  form'd  mine  every  part. 
Mine  inmost  thought  is  known  to  Thee  ; 

Each  word,  each  feeling  of  my  heart, 
Thine  ear  doth  hear,  Thine  eye  can  see. 

Though  I  should  seek  the  shades  of  night, 

And  hide  myself  in  guilty  fear, 
To  Thee  the  darkness  seems  as  light. 

The  midnight  as  the  noonday  clear. 

The  heavens,  the  earth,  the  sea,  the  sky, 
All  ovv'n  Thee  ever  present  there  ; 

Where'er  I  turn,  Thou  still  art  nigh. 
Thy  Spirit  dwelling  everywhere. 

Oh  may  that  Spirit,  ever  blest. 

Upon  my  soul  in  radiance  shine, 
Till,  welcomed  to  eternal  rest, 

I  taste  Thy  Presence,  Lord  Divine  ! 

Robert  Allan  Scoti.  1839. 


"  Our  Father,  w/ilch  art  in  Heaven''       189 


CLXXIII. 

When  all  Thy  mercies,  O  my  God, 

My  rising  soul  surveys, 
Transported  with  the  view,  I'm  lost 

In  wonder,  love,  and  praise. 

O  how  shall  words  with  equal  warmtli 

The  gratitude  declare, 
That  glows  within  my  ravish'd  heart  ! 

But  Thou  canst  read  it  there. 

Thy  Providence  my  life  sustain'd. 

And  all  my  wants  redrest. 
When  in  the  silent  womb  I  lay. 

And  hung  upon  the  breast. 

To  all  my  weak  complaints  and  cries 

Thy  mercy  lent  an  ear, 
Ere  yet  my  feeble  thour;ats  had  learnt 

To  form  themselves  in  prayer. 

Unnumbered  comforts  to  my  soul 

Thy  tender  care  bestowed, 
Before  my  infant  heart  conceived 

From  whence  these  comforts  flowed. 

When  in  the  slippery  paths  of  youth 

With  heedless  steps  I  ran. 
Thine  arm,  unseen,  conveyed  me  safe, 

And  led  me  up  to  man. 


IQO  Tlie  Book  of  Praise. 

Through  hidden  dangers,  toils,  and  death, 

It  gently  clear'd  my  way  ; 
And  through  the  pleasing  snares  of  vice, 

More  to  be  fear'd  than  they. 

When  worn  with  sickness,  oft  hast  Thou 
With  health  reneu^d  my  face  ; 

And,  when  in  sins  and  sorrows  sunk, 
Revived  my  soul  with  grace. 

Thy  bounteous  hand  with  worldly  bliss 
Has  made  my  cup  run  o'er  ; 

And  in  a  kind  and  faithful  friend 
Has  doubled  all  my  store. 

Ten  thousand  thousand  precious  gifts 

My  daily  thanks  employ  ; 
Nor  is  the  least  a  cheerful  heart 

That  tastes  those  gifts  with  joy. 

Through  every  period  of  my  life 

Thy  goodness  I'll  pursue  ; 
And  after  death,  in  distant  worlds, 

The  glorious  theme  renew. 

When  nature  fails,  and  day  and  night 

Divide  thy  works  no  more, 
My  ever-grateful  heaTt,  O  Lord, 

Thy  mercy  shall  adore. 

Through  all  eternity  to  Thee 

A  joyful  song  I'll  raise  : 
But  O  !  eternity's  too  short 

To  utter  all  Thy  praise  ! 

Joseph  Addison.  17; 


"  Thy  Kifigdom  comeP  191 


II. 

"THY   KINGDOM    COME." 

CLXXIV. 

Lord  !  come  away ! 
Why  dost  Thou  stay  ? 
Thy  road  is  ready  ;  and  Thy  paths  made  straight 

With  longing  expectation  wait 
The  consecration  of  Thy  beauteous  feet ! 
Ride  on  triumphantly  !     Behold,  we  lay 
Oar  lusts  and  proud  wills  in  Thy  way  ! 

Hosanna  !  Welcome,  to  our  hearts  I  Lord,  here 
Thou  hast  a  temple  too  ;  and  full  as  dear 
As  that  of  Sion,  and  as  full  of  sin  : 
Nothing  but  thieves  and  robbers  dwell  therein  : 
Enter,  and  chase  them  forth,  and  cleanse  the  floor ! 
Crucify  them,  that  they  may  never  more 
Profane  that  holy  place 
Where  Thou  hast  chose  to  set  Thy  face  ! 
And  then,  if  our  stiff  tongues  shall  be 
Mute  in  the  praises  of  Thy  Deity, 
The  stones  out  of  the  temple  wall 
Shall  cry  aloud,  and  call 
Hosanna  !  and  Thy  glorious  footsteps  greet !  Amen  ! 
Bishop  Jeremy  Taylor.  1655. 


CLXXV. 

Jesus,  Thy  Church  with  longing  eyes 
P^or  Thy  expected  coming  waits  ; 

When  will  the  promised  light  arise. 
And  ,glory  beam  from  Zion's  gates  ? 


192  The  Book  of  Praise. 

Ev'n  now,  when  tempests  round  us  fall, 
And  wintry  clouds  o'ercast  the  sky, 

Thy  words  with  pleasure  we  recall, 
And  deem  that  our  redemption's  nigh. 

Com.e,  gracious  Lord,  our  hearts  renew, 
Our  foes  repel,  our  wrongs  redress, 

Man's  rooted  enmity  subdue, 

And  crown  Thy  Gospel  with  success. 

O  come,  and  reign  o'er  every  land  ; 

Let  Satan  from  his  throne  be  hurFd  ; 
All  nations  bow  to  Thy  command, 

And  grace  revive  a  dying  world  ! 

Yes,  Thou  wilt  speedily  appear  ! 

The  smitten  earth  already  reels  ; 
And  not  far  off  we  seem  to  hear 

The  thunder  of  Thy  chariot  wheels. 

Teach  us  in  watchfulness  and  prayer 
To  wait  for  the  appointed  hour  ; 

And  fit  us  by  Thy  grace  to  share 

The  triumphs  of  Thy  conquering  power. 

William  Hiley  Bat  hurst.  1831, 


CLXXVI. 

Light  of  the  lonely  pilgrim's  heart, 

Star  of  the  coming  day  ! 
Arise,  and  with  Thy  morning  beams 

Chase  all  our  griefs  away  ! 


"  Thy  Kingdom  coined  1 93 

Come,  blessed  Lord  !  let  every  shore 

And  answering  island  sing 
The  praises  of  Thy  royal  name, 

And  own  Thee  as  their  King. 

Bid  the  whole  earth,  responsive  now 

To  the  bright  world  above, 
Break  forth  in  rapturous  strains  of  joy 

In  memory  of  Thy  love. 

Lord,  Lord  !  Thy  fair  creation  groans. 

The  air,  the  earth,  the  sea. 
In  unison  with  all  our  hearts. 

And  calls  aloud  for  Thee. 

Thine  was  the  Cross,  with  all  its  fruits 

Of  grace  and  peace  divine  : 
Be  Thine  the  crown  of  glory  now. 

The  palm  of  victory  Thine  ! 

Sir  Edward  Den ny,     1 848, 


CLXXVII. 

O  Saviour  !  is  Thy  promise  fled  ? 

Nor  longer  might  Thy  grace  endure 
To  heal  the  sick,  and  raise  the  dead. 

And  preach  the  Gospel  to  the  poor  ? 

Come,  Jesus,  come  !  return  again  ; 

With  brighter  beam  Thy  servants  bless 
Who  long  to  feel  Thy  perfect  reign, 

And  share  Thy  kingdom's  happiness  ! 


,-cn. 


A  feeble  race,  by  passion  driv( 

In  darkness  and  in  doubt  we  roam, 

And  lift  our  anxious  eyes  to  Heaven, 
Our  hope,  our  harbour,  and  our  home. 
o 


[94  1^^^^  Book  of  Praise. 

Yet,  'mid  the  wild  and  wintry  gale, 
When  death  rides  darkly  o'er  the  sea, 

And  strength  and  earthly  daring  fail, 
Our  prayers,  Redeemer  !  rest  on  Thee. 

Come,  Jesus,  come  !  and  as  of  yore 
The  prophet  went  to  clear  Thy  way, 

A  harbinger  Thy  feet  before, 

A  dawning  to  Thy  brighter  day  ; 

So  now  may  grace,  with  heavenly  shower. 
Our  stony  hearts  for  truth  prepare  ; 

Sow  in  our  souls  the  seed  of  power. 

Then  come,  and  reap  Thy  harvest  there  ! 

Bishop  Reginald  Heber.  1 8i  i 


CLXXVIII. 

O  Spirit  of  the  living  God  ! 

In  all  Thy  plenitude  of  grace, 
Where'er  the  foot  of  man  hath  trod, 

Descend  on  our  apostate  race  ! 

Give  tongues  of  fire  and  hearts  of  love 
To  preach  the  reconciling  word  ; 

Give  power  and  unction  from  above, 
Whene'er  the  joyful  sound  is  heard. 

Be  darkness,  at  Thy  coming,  Light ; 

Confusion,  order  in  Thy  path  ; 
Souls  without  strength  inspire  with  might  ^ 

Bid  mercy  triumph  over  wrath. 

O  Spirit  of  the  Lord  !  prepare 

All  the  round  earth  her  God  to  meet ; 

Breathe  Thou  abroad  like  morning  air. 
Till  hearts  of  stone  begin  to  beat. 


"  Thy  Kingdom  comer  195 

Baptize  the  nations  far  and  nigh  ; 

The  triumphs  of  Thy  Cross  record  ; 
The  name  of  Jesus  glorify, 

Till  every  kindred  call  Him  Lord. 

James  Montgo7ne7y.  1825. 


CLXXIX. 

Speed  Thy  servants,  Saviour,  speed  them  ! 

Thou  art  Lord  of  winds  and  waves  : 
They  were  bound,  but  Thou  hast  freed  them  ; 

NofVv  they  go  to  free  the  slaves  : 
Be  Thou  with  them  ! 

'Tis  Thine  arm  alone  that  saves. 

Friends  and  home  and  all  forsaking, 
Lord  !  they  go,  at  Thy  command  ; 

As  their  stay  Thy  promise  taking, 
While  they  traverse  sea  and  land  : 

O  be  with  them  ! 
Lead  them  safely  by  the  hand  ! 

Speed  them  through  the  mighty  ocean, 

In  the  dark  and  stormy  day. 
When  the  waves  in  wild  commotion 

Fill  all  others  with  dismay  : 
Be  Thou  with  them  ! 

Drive  their  terrors  far  away. 

Wlien  they  reach  the  land  of  strangers. 

And  the  prospect  dark  appears. 
Nothing  seen  but  toils  and  dangers. 
Nothing  felt  but  doubts  and  fears  ; 

Be  Thou  with  them  ! 
Hear  their  sighs,  and  count  their  tears. 
o  2 


196  The  Book  of  Praise. 

When  they  think  of  home,  now  dearer 

Than  it  ever  seem'd  before, 
Bring  the  promised  glory  nearer  ; 

Let  them  see  that  peaceful  shore, 
Where  Thy  people 

Rest  from  toil,  and  weep  no  more  ! 

Where  no  fruit  appears  to  cheer  them, 

And  they  seem  to  toil  in  vain, 
Then  in  mercy,  Lord,  draw  near  them, 

Then  their  sinking  hopes  sustain  : 
Thus  supported. 

Let  their  zeal  revive  again  ! 

In  the  midst  of  opposition 

Let  them  trust,  O  Lord,  in  Thee  : 

When  success  attends  their  mission, 
Let  Thy  servants  humbler  be  : 

Never  leave  them, 
Till  Thy  face  in  Heaven  they  see  ; 

There  to  reap,  in  joy  for  ever, 

Fruit  that  grows  from  seed  here  sown  ; 
There  to  be  with  Him,  Who  never 
Ceases  to  preserve  His  own. 

And  with  triumph 
Sing  a  Saviour's  grace  alone  ! 

Thomas  Kelly.  1836. 


Thy  Kingdom  comer  i97 


CLXXX. 

Thou,  Whose  Almighty  word 
Chaos  and  darkness  heard, 

And  took  their  flight ; 
Hear  us,  we  humbly  pray  ; 
And,  where  the  gospel's  day 
Sheds  not  its  glorious  ray. 

Let  there  be  light ! 

Thou,  Who  didst  come  to  bring 
On  Thy  redeeming  wing 

Heahng  and  sight, 
Health  to  the  sick  in  mind, 
Sight  to  the  inly  blind. 
Oh,  now  to  all  mankind 

Let  there  be  light ! 

Spirit  of  truth  and  love, 
Life-giving,  holy  Dove, 

Speed  forth  Thy  flight ! 
Move  on  the  waters'  face 
Bearing  the  lamp  of  grace, 
And  in  earth's  darkest  place 

Let  there  be  light ! 

Holy  and  blessed  Three, 
Glorious  Trinity, 

Wisdom,  Love,  Might ! 
Boundless  as  ocean's  tide 
Rolling  in  fullest  pride. 
Through  the  earth,  far  and  wide. 

Let  there  be  light ! 

Jolm  Marriott.  1816. 


198  The  Book  of  Pi^aise. 


III. 

''THY  WILL  BE  DONE." 

Thy  will  be  done,  in  earth,  as  it  is  in  Heaven. 

CLXXXI. 
Come,  my  soul,  Thy  suit  prepare  ; 
Jesus  loves  to  answer  prayer : 
He  Himself  has  bid  thee  pray, 
Therefore  will  not  say  thee  nay. 

Thou  art  coming  to  a  King, 
Large  petitions  with  thee  bring  ; 
For  his  grace  and  power  are  such. 
None  can  ever  ask  too  much. 

With  my  burden  I  begin ; 
Lord,  remove  this  load  of  sin  ; 
Let  Thy  blood,  for  sinners  spilt. 
Set  my  conscience  free  from  guilt. 

Lord,  I  come  to  Thee  for  rest ; 
Take  possession  of  my  breast ; 
There  Thy  blood-bought  right  maintain, 
And  without  a  rival  reign. 

As  the  image  in  the  glass 
Answers  the  beholder's  face. 
Thus  unto  my  heart  appear. 
Print  Thine  own  resemblance  there. 

While  I  am  a  pilgrim  here, 

Let  Thy  love  my  spirit  cheer  ; 

As  my  Guide,  my  Guard,  my  Friend, 

Lead  me  to  my  journey's  end. 


"  Thy  Will  be  doner  199 

Shew  me  what  I  have  to  do  ; 
Every  hour  my  strength  renew  ; 
Let  me  Hve  a  Hfe  of  faith  ; 
Let  me  die  Thy  people's  death. 

John  Newton.  1 779. 


CLXXXII. 

My  faith  looks  up  to  Thee, 
Thou  Lamb  of  Calvary, 

Saviour  divine  ! 
Now  hear  me  while  I  pray  ; 
Take  all  my  guilt  away  ; 
O  let  me  from  tliis  day 

Be  wholly  Thine  ! 

May  Thy  rich  grace  impart 
Strength  to  my  fainting  heart, 

My  zeal  inspire  ! 
As  Thou  hast  died  for  me, 
O  may  my  love  to  Thee 
Pure,  warm,  and  changeless  be, 

A  living  fire  ! 

While  life's  dark  maze  I  tread, 
And  griefs  around  me  spread, 

Be  Thou  my  Guide  ! 
Bid  darkness  turn  to  day, 
Wipe  sorrow's  tears  away. 
Nor  let  me  ever  stray 

From  Thee  aside. 


200  The  Book  of  Praise. 

When  ends  life's  transient  dream,^ 
When  death's  cold  sullen  stream 

Shall  o'er  me  roll ; 
Blest  Saviour  !  then  in  love 
Fear  and  distrust  remove  ; 
O  bear  me  safe  above, 

A  ransom'd  soul ! 

Ray  Pahner.  [1834.] 


CLXXXIIT. 

Psalm  CXVI. 

Redeem'd  from  guilt,  redeem'd  from  fears. 
My  soul  enlarged,  and  dried  my  tears. 
What  can  I  do,  O  Love  Divine, 
What,  to  repay  such  gifts  as  Thine  ? 


What  can  I  do,  so  poor,  so  weak, 
But  from  Thy  hands  new  blessings  seek, 
A  heart  to  feel  Thy  mercies  more, 
A  soul  to  know  Thee,  and  adore  ? 

O  teach  me  at  Thy  feet  to  fall. 
And  yield  Thee  up  myself,  my  all ! 
Before  Thy  saints  my  debts  to  own. 
And  live  and  die  to  Thee  alone  ! 

Thy  Spirit,  Lord,  at  large  impart, 
Expand  and  raise  and  fill  my  heart ! 
So  may  I  hope  my  life  shall  be 
Some  faint  return,  O  Lord,  to  Thee. 

Hemy  Francis  Lyte.  1834. 


"  Thy  Will  be  done':  201 

CLXXXIV. 

Psalm   CI. 

Lord,  when  I  lift  my  voice  to  Thee, 

To  whom  all  praise  belongs, 
Thy  justice  and  Thy  love  shall  be 

The  subject  of  my  songs. 

Let  wisdom  o'er  my  heart  preside, 

To  lead  my  steps  aright, 
And  make  Thy  perfect  law  my  guide, 

Thy  service  my  delight. 

All  sinful  ways  I  will  abhor. 

All  wicked  men  forsake  ; 
And  only  those,  who  love  Thy  law. 

For  my  companions  take. 

Lord  !  that  I  may  not  go  astray, 

Thy  constant  grace  impart : 
When  wilt  Thou  come  to  point  my  way, 

And  fix  my  roving  heart  ? 

William  Hi  ley  Bath  urst.  1 83 1 . 

CLXXXV. 

Forth  in  Thy  Name,  O  Lord,  I  go. 

My  daily  labour  to  pursue, 
Thee,  only  Thee,  resolved  to  know, 

In  all  I  think,  or  speak,  or  do. 

The  task  Thy  wisdom  hath  assign'd 

O  let  me  cheerfully  fulfil ; 
In  all  my  works  Thy  presence  find. 

And  prove  Thine  acceptable  will. 


202  Ike  Book  of  Praise. 

Preserve  me  from  my  calling  s  snare, 
And  hide  my  simple  heart  above, 

Above  the  thorns  of  choking  care, 
The  gilded  baits  of  worldly  love. 

Thee  may  I  set  at  my  right  hand, 

Whose  eyes  mine  inmost  substance  see, 

And  labour  on  at  Thy  command. 
And  offer  all  my  works  to  Thee. 

Give  me  to  bear  Thy  easy  yoke, 
And  every  moment  watch  and  pray  ; 

And  still  to  things  eternal  look, 
And  hasten  to  Thy  glorious  day. 

For  Thee  delightfully  employ 

Whate'er  Thy  bounteous  grace  hath  given, 
And  run  my  course  with  even  joy. 

And  closely  walk  with  Thee  to  Heaven. 
Charles  Wesley.  1749. 


CLXXXVI. 

Now  it  belongs  not  to  my  care 

Whether  I  die  or  hve  ; 
To  love  and  serve  Thee  is  my  share. 

And  this  Thy  grace  must  give. 

If  death  shall  bruise  this  springing  seed 

Before  it  come  to  fruit. 
The  will  with  Thee  goes  for  the  deed, 

Thy  life  was  in  the  root. 

Would  I  long  bear  my  heavy  load, 
And  keep  my  sorrows  long  ? 

Would  I  long  sin  against  my  God, 
And  His  dear  mercy  wrong  1 


"  Thy  Will  be  doner  203 

How  much  is  sinful  flesh  my  foe, 

That  doth  my  soul  pervert 
To  linger  here  in  sin  and  woe, 

And  steals  from  God  my  heart ! 

Christ  leads  me  through  no  darker  rooms 

Than  He  went  through  before  ; 
He  that  unto  God's  Kingdom  comes 

Must  enter  by  this  door. 

Come,  Lord,  when  grace  hath  made  me  meet 

Thy  blessed  face  to  see  ; 
For,  if  Thy  work  on  earth  be  sweet, 

What  will  Thy  glory  be  ? 

Then  I  shall  end  my  sad  complaints, 

And  weary  sinful  days, 
And  join  with  the  triumphant  saints 

That  sing  Jehovah's  praise. 

My  knowledge  of  that  life  is  small ; 

The  eye  of  faith  is  dim  ; 
But  it's  enough  that  Christ  knows  all, 

And  I  shall  be  with  Him. 

Richard  Baxter.  1681. 


CLXXxvir. 

O  Thou,  who  camest  from  above, 
The  pure  celestial  fire  to  impart, 

Kindle  a  flame  of  sacred  love 
On  the  mean  altar  of  my  heart.. 


204  The  Book  of  Praise. 

There  let  it  for  Thy  glory  burn 

With  inextinguishable  blaze  ; 
And,  trembling,  to  its  source  return, 

In  humble  prayer  and  fervent  praise. 

Jesus  !  confirm  my  heart's  desire 

To  work,  and  speak,  and  think  for  Thee  ; 

Still  let  me  guard  the  holy  fire  ; 
And  still  stir  up  Thy  gift  in  me  ; 

Ready  for  all  Thy  perfect  will, 
My  acts  of  faith  and  love  repeat ; 

Till  death  Thy  endless  mercies  seal, 
And  make  my  sacrifice  complete. 

Charles  Wesley.  1762. 


CLXXXVTII. 

Psalm  XXXI. 

My  spirit  on  Thy  care, 
Blest  Saviour,  I  recline  ; 
Thou  wilt  not  leave  me  to  despair, 
For  Thou  art  Love  divine. 

In  Thee  I  place  my  trust, 
On  Thee  I  calmly  rest ; 
1  know  Thee  good,  I  know  Thee  just, 
And  count  Thy  choice  the  best. 

Whate'er  events  betide. 
Thy  will  they  all  perform  ; 
Safe  in  Thy  breast  my  head  I  hide. 
Nor  fear  the  coming  storm. 


"  Thy  Will  be  doner  205 

Let  good  or  ill  befal, 
It  must  be  good  for  me  ; 
Secure  of  having  Thee  in  all, 
Of  having  all  in  Thee. 

Henry  Francis  Lyte.  1 834, 


CLXXXIX. 

Blest  be  Thy  love,  dear  Lord, 
That  taught  us  this  sweet  way, 
Only  to  love  Thee  for  Thyself, 
And  for  that  love  obey. 

O  Thou,  our  souls'  chief  hope  ! 
We  to  Thy  mercy  fly  ; 
Where'er  we  are,  Thou  canst  protect, 
Whate'er  we  need,  supply. 

Whether  we  sleep  or  wake, 
To  Thee  we  both  resign  ; 
By  night  we  see,  as  well  as  day, 
If  Thy  light  on  us  shine. 

Whether  we  live  or  die, 
Both  we  submit  to  Thee  ; 
In  death  we  live,  as  well  as  life, 
If  Thine  in  death  we  be. 

John  Austin.  1668. 


cxc. 

O  Lord,  my  best  desire  fulfil, 

And  help  me  to  resign 
Life,  health,  and  comfort  to  Thy  will, 

And  make  Thy  pleasure  mine. 


2o6  The  Book  of  Praise. 

Why  should  I  shrink  from  Thy  command, 
Whose  love  forbids  my  fears, 

Or  tremble  at  the  gracious  hand 
That  wipes  away  my  tears  ? 

No,  rather  let  me  freely  yield 

What  most  I  prize  to  Thee, 
Who  never  hast  a  good  withheld, 

Or  wilt  withhold,  from  me. 

Thy  favour,  all  my  journey  through, 

Thou  art  engaged  to  grant  ; 
What  else  I  want,  or  think  I  do, 

'Tis  better  still  to  want. 

But  ah  !  my  inward  spirit  cries, 

Still  bind  me  to  Thy  sway ! 
Else  the  next  cloud  that  veils  the  skies. 

Drives  all  these  thoughts  away. 

William  Cowper.  1779. 


CXCI. 

O  for  an  heart  to  praise  my  God, 
An  heart  from  sin  set  free  1 

An  heart  that  always  feels  Thy  Blood, 
So  freely  spilt  for  me  ! 

An  heart  resign'd,  submissive,  meek, 
My  dear  Redeemer's  throne  ; 

Where  only  Christ  is  heard  to  speak, 
Where  Jesus  reigns  alone. 

An  humble,  lowly,  contrite  heart. 
Believing,  true,  and  clean  : 

Which  neither  life  nor  death  can  part 
From  Him  that  dwells  within  : 


"  Thy  Will  be  doner  207 

An  heart  in  every  thought  rencw'd, 

And  full  of  love  divine  ; 
Perfect,  and  right,  and  pure,  and  good. 

A  copy,  Lord,  of  Thine. 

Thy  nature,  gracious  Lord,  impart  ; 

Come  quickly  from  above  ; 
Write  Thy  new  Name  upon  my  heart, 

Thy  new,  best  Name  of  Love. 

Charles  Wesley.  1742. 


CXCII. 

Oh  what,  if  we  are  Christ's, 
Is  earthly  shame  or  loss  t 
Bright  shall  the  crown  of  glory  be, 
When  wfe  have  borne  the  cross. 

Keen  was  the  trial  once. 
Bitter  the  cup  of  woe, 
When  martyrM  saints,  baptized  in  blood, 
Christ's  sufferings  shared  below. 

Bright  is  their  glory  now. 
Boundless  their  joy  above. 
Where,  on  the  bosom  of  their  God, 
They  rest  in  perfect  love. 

Lord  !  may  that  grace  be  ours  ; 
Like  them  in  faith  to  bear 
All  that  of  sorrow,  grief,  or  pain, 
May  be  our  portion  here  ! 

Enough,  if  Thou  at  last 
The  word  of  blessing  give, 
And  let  us  rest  beneath  Thy  feet, 
Where  saints  and  angels  live  I 


2o8  The  Book  of  Praise.  ' 

All  glory,  Lord,  to  Thee, 
Whom  Heaven  and  earth  adore  ; 
To  Father,  Son,  and  Holy  Ghost, 
One  God  for  evermore. 

Sz'r  He  my  Baker.  [1852. 


CXCIII. 

My  God  and  Father,  while  I  stray 
Far  from  my  home,  on  life's  rough  way, 

0  teach  me  from  my  heart  to  say. 

Thy  will  be  done  ! 

Though  dark  my  path  and  sad  my  lot, 
Let  me  be  still  and  murmur  not. 
Or  breathe  the  prayer  divinely  taught, 
Thy  will  be  done  ! 

What  though  in  lonely  grief  I  sigh         : 
For  friends  beloved,  no  longer  nigh, 
Submissive  still  would  I  reply, 
Thy  will  be  done  ! 

Though  Thou  hast  call'd  me  to  resign 
What  most  I  prized,  it  ne'er  was  mine, 

1  have  but  yielded  what  was  Thine ; 

Thy  will  be  done  ! 

Should  grief  or  sickness  waste  away 
My  life  in  premature  decay. 
My  Father  !  still  I  strive  to  say. 
Thy  will  be  done. 

Let  but  my  fainting  heart  be  blest 
With  Thy  sweet  Spirit  for  its  guest, 
My  God,  to  Thee  I  leave  the  rest ; 
Thy  will  be  done  ! 


"  Thy  Will  be  doneV  209 

Renew  my  will  from  day  to  day  ; 
Blend  it  with  Thine  ;  and  take  away 
All  that  now  makes  it  hard  to  say, 
Thy  will  be  done  ! 

Then,  when  on  earth  I  breathe  no  more. 
The  prayer,  oft  mix'd  with  tears  before, 
I'll  sing  upon  a  happier  shore, 
Thy  will  be  done  ! 

Charlotte  Elliott.  1834. 

CXCIV. 

O  Lord,  Thy  heavenly  grace  impart, 
And  fix  my  frail  inconstant  heart ; 
Henceforth  my  chief  desire  shall  be 
To  dedicate  myself  to  Thee, 

To  Thee,  my  God,  to  Thee  ! 

Whate'er  pursuits  my  time  employ, 
One  thought  shall  fill  my  soul  with  joy  ; 
That  silent,  secret  thought  shall  be. 
That  all  my  hopes  are  fix'd  on  Thee, 
On  Thee,  my  God,  on  Thee  ! 

Thy  glorious  eye  pervadeth  space  ; 
Thou'rt  present.  Lord,  in  every  place  ; 
And,  wheresoe  er  my  lot  may  be, 
Still  shall  my  spirit  cleave  to  Thee, 
To  Thee,  my  God,  to  Thee  ! 

Renouncing  every  worldly  thing, 
Safe  'neath  the  covert  of  Thy  wing, 
My  sweetest  thought  henceforth  shall  be, 
That  all  I  want  I  find  in  Thee, 
In  Thee,  my  God,  in  Thee  ! 

Mrs.  Daniel  Wilso7i.    1830. 
From   John   Frederic   Oberlin. 
p 


2 1  o  The  Book  of  Praise.. 


When  I  survey  life's  varied  scene, 

Amid  the  darkest  hours 
Sweet  rays  of  comfort  shine  between, 

And  thorns  are  mix'd  with  flowers. 

Lord,  teach  me  to  adore  Thy  hand, 
From  whence  my  comforts  flow, 
And  let  me  in  this  desert  land 
A  glimpse  of  Canaan  know. 

And  0  !  whate'er  of  earthly  bliss 

Thy  sovereign  hand  denies, 
Accepted  at  Thy  throne  of  grace 

Let  this  petition  rise  : 

Give  me  a  calm,  a  thankful  heart. 

From  every  murmur  free  ; 
The  blessings  of  Thy  grace  impart, 

And  let  me  live  to  Thee. 

Let  the  sweet  hope,  that  Thou  art  mine. 

My  path  of  life  attend. 
Thy  presence  through  my  journey  shine, 

And  bless  its  happy  end  ! 

A  nne  Steele,  1 760. 


"  Thy  Will  be  do?iel"  2 1 1 


cxcvi. 

Father  of  Love,  our  Guide  and  Friend, 

Oh  lead  us  gently  on, 
Until  life's  trial-time  shall  end, 

And  heavenly  peace  be  won  ! 
We  know  not  what  the  path  may  be 

As  yet  by  us  untrod ; 
But  we  can  trust  our  all  to  Thee, 

Our  Father  and  our  God  ! 

If  call'd,  like  Abraham's  child,  to  climb 

The  hill  of  sacrifice. 
Some  angel  may  be  there  in  time  ; 

Deliverance  shall  arise  : 
Or,  if  some  darker  lot  be  good, 

Oh,  teach  us  to  endure 
The  sorrow,  pain,  or  solitn.ide, 

That  make  the  spirit  pure  ! 

Christ  by  no  flowery  pathway  came  ; 

And  we,  His  followers  here, 
Must  do  Thy  will  and  praise  Thy  Name, 

In  hope,  and  love,  and  fear. 
And,  till  in  Heaven  we  sinless  bow, 

And  faultless  anthems  raise, 
O  Father,  Son,  and  Spirit,  now 

Accept  our  feeble  praise  ! 

William  Josiah  Irons.   1853. 


212  The  Book  of  Praise. 


CXCVII. 

Thy  way,  not  mine,  O  Lord, 

However  dark  it  be  ! 
Lead  me  by  Thine  own  hand. 

Choose  out  the  path  for  me. 

Smooth  let  it  be  or  rough. 

It  will  be  still  the  best  ; 
Winding  or  straight,  it  leads 

Right  onward  to  Thy  rest. 

I  dare  not  choose  my  lot ; 

I  would  not,  if  I  might ; 
Choose  Thou  for  me,  my  God  ; 

So  shall  I  walk  aright. 

The  kingdom  that  I  seek 

Is  Thine  ;  so  let  the  way 
That  leads  to  it  be  Thine  ; 

Else  I  must  surely  stray. 

Take  Thou  my  cup,  and  it 

With  joy  or  sorrow  fill, 
As  best  to  Thee  may  seem  ; 

Choose  Thou  my  good  and  ill ; 

Choose  Thou  for  me  my  friends. 

My  sickness  or  my  health  ; 
Choose  Thou  my  cares  for  me, 

My  poverty  or  wealth. 

Not  mine,  not  mine  the  choice, 

In  things  or  great  or  small ; 
Be  Thou  my  guide,  my  strength, 

My  wisdom,  and  my  all ! 

Ho7'atius  Bonar.   1856. 


Thy  Will  be  doner  213 


CXCVIIT. 

Father,  I  know  that  all  my  life 

Is  portion'd  out  for  me, 
And  the  changes  that  are  sure  to  come 

I  do  not  fear  to  see  ; 
])Ut  I  ask  Thee  for  a  present  rnind, 


I  ask  Thee  for  a  thoughtful  love. 
Through  constant  watching  wise, 

To  meet  the  glad  with  joyful  smiles 
And  wipe  the  weeping  ej^es  ; 

And  a  heart  at  leisure  from  itself, 
To  soothe  and  sympathize. 

I  would  not  have  the  restless  will 

That  hurries  to  and  fro  ; 
Seeking  for  some  great  thing  to  do. 

Or  secret  thing  to  know  : 
I  would  be  treated  as  a  child. 

And  guided  where  I  go. 

Wherever  in  the  world  I  am. 

In  whatsoe'er  estate, 
I  have  a  fellowship  with  hearts 

To  keep  and  cultivate, 
And  a  work  of  lowly  love  to  do, 

For  the  Lord  on  whom  I  wait. 

So  I  ask  Thee  for  the  daily  strength 

To  none  that  ask  denied. 
And  a  mind  to  blend  with  outward  life, 

While  keeping  at  Thy  side  ; 
Content  to  fill  a  little  space. 

If  Thou  be  glorified. 


214  The  Book  of  Praise. 

And  if  some  things  I  do  not  ask 
In  my  cup  of  blessing  be, 

I  would  have  my  spirit  fiU'd  the  more 
With  grateful  love  to  Thee  ; 

More  careful,  not  to  serve  Thee  much, 
But  to  please  Thee  perfectly. 


There  are  briars  besetting  every  path, 

That  call  for  patient  care  ; 
There  is  a  cross  in  every  lot, 

And  an  earnest  need  for  prayer  ; 
But  a  lowly  heart,  that  leans  on  Thee, 

Is  happy  anywhere. 

In  a  service  which  Thy  will  appoints 

There  are  no  bonds  for  me  ; 
For  my  inmost  heart  is  taught  the  Truth 

That  makes  Thy  children  free  ; 
And  a  life  of  self-renouncing  love 

Is  a  life  of  hberty. 

Anna  Laititia  Wa?'ing.  1850 — 1860. 


CXCIX. 

Psalm  CXXXI. 

Quiet,  Lord,  my  froward  heart, 
Make  me  teachable  and  mild, 

Upright,  simple,  free  from  art. 
Make  me  as  a  weaned  child. 

From  distrust  and  envy  free, 

Pleased  with  all  that  pleases  Thee 


'' Thy  Will  be  done:'  215 

What  Thou  shalt  to-day  provide, 

Let  me  as  a  child  receive  ; 
What  to-morrow  may  betide 

Calmly  to  thy  wisdom  leave  : 
'Tis  enough  that  Thou  Avilt  care  ; 
Why  should  I  the  burden  bear  ? 

As  a  little  child  relies 

On  a  care  beyond  his  own, 
Knows  he's  neither  strong  nor  wise, 

Fears  to  stir  a  step  alone  ; 
Let  me  thus  with  Thee  abide, 
As  my  Father,  Guard,  and  Guide. 

Thus,  preserv'd  from  Satan's  wiles, 
Safe  from  dangers,  free  from  fears, 

May  I  live  upon  Thy  smiles 
Till  the  promised  hour  appears. 

When  the  sons  of  God  shall  prove 

All  their  Father's  boundless  love  ! 

John  Newtoft.  1779. 


CC. 

Psalm  CXXXL 

Jesus,  cast  a  look  on  me  ; 
Give  me  sweet  simplicity. 
Make  me  poor  and  keep  me  low, 
Seeking  only  Thee  to  know ; 

Weaned  from  my  lordly  self 
Weaned  from  the  miser's  pelf, 
Weaned  from  the  scorner's  ways. 
Weaned  from  the  lust  of  praise. 


2i6  The  Book  of  Praise. 

All  that  feeds  my  busy  pride, 
Cast  it  evermore  aside  ; 
Bid  my  will  to  Thine  submit ; 
Lay  me  humbly  at  Thy  feet. 

Make  me  like  a  little  child. 
Of  my  strength  and  wisdom  spoil'd, 
Seeing  only  in  Thy  light, 
Walking  only  in  Thy  might. 

Leaning  on  Thy  loving  breast, 
Where  a  weary  soul  may  rest  ; 
Feeling  well  the  peace  of  God 
Flowing  from  Thy  precious  Blood  ! 

In  this  posture  let  me  hve. 
And  hosannas  daily  give  ; 
In  this  temper  let  me  die, 
And  hosannas  ever  cry  ! 

JoJui  Bejridge.  1785. 


CCI. 

Lord,  I  feel  a  carnal  mind 
That  hangs  about  me  still, 

Vainly  though  I  strive  to  bind 
My  own  rebellious  will ; 

Is  not  haughtiness  of  heart 
The  gulph  between  my  God  and  me  ? 

Meek  Redeemer  !  now  impart 
Thine  own  humility  ! 


"  Thy  Will  be  dofier  217 

Fain  would  I  my  Lord  pursue, 

Be  all  my  Saviour  taught, 
Do  as  Jesus  bade  me  do. 

And  think  as  Jesus  thought : 
But  'tis  Thou  must  change  my  heart ; 
The  perfect  gift  must  come  from  Thee ; 
Meek  Redeemer  !  now  impart 

Thine  own  humility  ! 

Lord,  I  cannot,  must  not  rest. 

Till  I  Thy  mind  obtain, 
Chase  presumption  from  my  breast, 

And  all  Thy  mildness  gain  : 
Give  me.  Lord,  Thy  gentle  heart ; 
Thy  lowly  mind  my  portion  be  : 
Meek  Redeemer  !  now  impart 

Thine  own  humility ! 

Let  Thy  cross  my  will  control  ; 

Conform  me  to  my  Guide ! 
In  the  manger  lay  my  soul, 

And  crucify  my  pride  ! 
Give  me.  Lord,  a  contrite  heart, 
An  heart  that  always  looks  to  Thee  : 
Meek  Redeemer  !  now  impart 

Thine  own  humility  ! 

Tear  away  my  every  boast ; 
My  stubborn  mind  abase  ; 
Saviour,  fix  my  only  trust 

In  Thy  redeeming  grace  ! 
Give  me  a  submissive  heart. 
From  pride  and  self-dependence  free  ; 
Meek  Redeemer  !  now  impart 
Thine  own  humility  ! 

Aiigusttis  Montague  Top  lady.   1759. 


2i8  The  Book  of  Praise. 


ecu. 

Gracious  Spirit,  dwell  with  me  ; 
I  myself  would  gracious  be, 
And  with  words  that  help  and  heal 
Would  Thy  life  in  mine  reveal, 
And  with  actions  bold  and  meek 
Would  for  Christ  my  Saviour  speak. 

Truthful  Spirit,  dwell  with  me  ; 
I  myself  would  truthful  be, 
And  with  wisdom  kind  and  clear 
Let  Thy  life  in  mine  appear, 
And  with  actions  brotherly 
Speak  my  Lord's  sincerity. 

Tender  Spirit,  dwell  with  me  ; 
I  myself  would  tender  be. 
Shut  my  heart  up  like  a  flower 
At  temptation's  darksome  hour, 
Open  it  when  shines  the  sun, 
And  His  love  by  fragrance  own. 

Silent  Spirit,  dwell  with  me  ; 

I  myself  would  quiet  be, 

Quiet  as  the  growing  blade 

Which  through  earth  its  way  has  made. 

Silently,  like  morning  light, 

Putting  mists  and  chills  to  flight. 

Mighty  Spirit,  dwell  with  me  ; 
I  myself  would  mighty  be, 
Mighty  so  as  to  prevail 
Where  unaided  man  must  fail, 
Ever  by  a  mighty  hope 
Pressing  on  and  bearing  up. 


"  Thy  Will  be  done  219 

Holy  Spirit,  dwell  with  me  ; 

I  myself  would  holy  be  ; 

Separate  from  sin,  I  would 

Choose  and  cherish  all  things  good, 

And  whatever  I  can  be 

Give  to  Him,  who  gave  me  Thee  ! 

Thomas  Toke  Lyncli.   1855. 


CCIII. 

Matt.  V.  3 — 10. 

There  is  a  dwelling-place  above  ; 
Thither,  to  meet  the  God  of  love, 

The  poor  in  spirit  go  ; 
There  is  a  paradise  of  rest ; 
For  contrite  hearts  and  souls  distrest 

Its  streams  of  comfort  flow. 

There  is  a  goodly  heritage, 

Where  earthly  passions  cease  to  rage  ; 

The  meek  that  haven  gain  : 
There  is  a  board,  where  they  Avho  pine, 
Hungry,  athirst,  for  grace  divine, 

May  feast,  nor  crave  again. 

There  is  a  voice  to  mercy  tnie  ; 
To  them  who  mercy's  path  pursue 

That  voice  shall  bliss  impart ; 
There  is  a  sight  from  man  concealed  ; 
That  sight,  the  face  of  God  revealed  ; 

Shall  bless  the  pure  in  heart. 


220  The  Book  of  P^^aise. 

There  is  a  name,  in  heaven  bestow' d  ; 
That  name,  which  hails  them  sons  of  God, 

The  friends  of  peace  shall  know  : 
There  is  a  kingdom  in  the  sky. 
Where  they  shall  reign  with  God  on  high, 

Who  serve  Him  best  below. 

Lord  !  be  it  mine  like  them  to  choose 
The  better  part,  like  them  to  use 

The  means  Thy  love  hath  given  ! 
Be  holiness  my  aim  on  earth, 
That  death  be  welcomed  as  a  birth 

To  life  and  bliss  in  Heaven  ! 

Bishop  Richard  Mant.  1 83 1 , 


cciv. 
Matthew  V.  3 — 10. 

Blest  are  the  humble  souls  that  see 
Their  emptiness  and  poverty  ; 
Treasures  of  grace  to  them  are  given, 
And  crowns  of  joy  laid  up  in  Heaven. 

Blest  are  the  men  of  broken  heart 
Who  mourn  for  sin  with  inward  smart ; 
The  Blood  of  Christ  divinely  .flows, 
A  healing  balm  for  all  their  woes. 

Blest  are  the  meek,  who  stand  afar 
From  rage  and  passion,  noise  and  war  ; 
God  will  secure  their  happy  state. 
And  plead  their  cause  against  the  great. 


"  Thy  Will  be  doner  221 

Blest  are  the  souls  that  thirst  for  grace, 
Hunger  and  long  for  righteousness  ; 
They  shall  be  well  supplied  and  fed 
With  living  streams  and  living  bread. 

Blest  are  the  men  whose  bowels  move 
And  melt  with  sympathy  and  lo\'e  ; 
From  Christ  the  Lord  shall  they  obtain 
Like  sympathy  and  love  again. 

Blest  are  the  pure,  whose  hearts  are  clean 
From  the  defiling  power  of  sin  ; 
With  endless  pleasure  they  shall  see 
A  God  of  spotless  purity. 

Blest  are  the  men  of  peaceful  life. 
Who  quench  the  coals  of  growing  strife  ; 
They  shall  be  call'd  the  heirs  of  bliss, 
The  sons  of  God,  the  God  of  peace. 

Blest  are  the  sufferers,  who  partake 
Of  pain  and  shame  for  Jesus'  sake  ; 
Their  souls  shall  triumph  in  the  Lord, 
Glory  and  joy  are  their  reward. 

Isaac  Watts,  lyog. 


222  The  Book  of  Praise. 


IV. 

GIVE  US  THIS   DAY   OUR   DAILY   BREAD." 
ccv. 

Lord  of  my  life,  whose  tender  care 

Hath  led  me  on  till  now, 
Here  lowly  at  the  hour  of  prayer 

Before  Thy  throne  I  bow  ; 
I  bless  Thy  gracious  hand,  and  pray 
Forgiveness  for  another  day. 

Oh  !  may  I  daily,  hourly,  strive 

In  heavenly  grace  to  gro^y  ; 
To  Thee  and  to  Thy  glory  live, 

Dead  else  to  all  below  ; 
Tread  in  the  path  my  Saviour  trod, 
Though  thorny,  yet  the  path  to  God  ! 

With  prayer  my  humble  praise  I  bring 

For  mercies  day  by  day  ; 
Lord,  teach  my  heart  Thy  love  to  sing, 

Lord,  teach  me  how  to  pray  ! 
All  that  I  have,  I  am,  to  Thee 
I  offer  through  Eternity  ! 

Anon,  [1853.] 


CCVI. 

Lord,  in  the  day  Thou  art  about 
The  paths  wherein  I  tread  ; 

And  in  the  night,  when  I  lie  down, 
Thou  art  about  my  bed. 


'"'■Give  us  this  day  our  Daily  BreadT       223 

While  others  in  God's  prisons  He, 

Bound  with  affliction's  chain, 
I  walk  at  large,  secure  and  free 

From  sickness  and  from  pain. 

'Tis  Thou  dost  crown  my  hopes  and  plans 

With  good  success  each  day  ; 
This  crown,  together  with  myself, 

At  Thy  blest  feet  I  lay. 

O  let  my  house  a  temple  be. 
That  I  and  mine  may  sing 
Hosanna  to  Thy  Majesty, 
And  praise  our  heavenly  King! 
Cento  by  John  Hampden  Gnt'ney.    1838 — 1851. 
From  John  Mason.   1683. 


CCVII. 

Shine  on  our  souls,  eternal  God, 
With  rays  of  beauty  shine  ! 

O  let  Thy  favour  crown  our  days, 
And  all  their  round  be  thine  ! 

Did  we  not  raise  our  hands  to  Thee, 
Our  hands  might  toil  in  vain  ; 

Small  joy  success  itself  could  give, 
If  Thou  Thy  love  restrain. 

With  Thee  let  every  week  begin, 
With  Thee  each  day  be  spent ; 

For  Thee  each  fleeting  hour  improv'd. 
Since  each  by  Thee  is  lent. 


224  The  Book  of  Praise. 

Thus  cheer  us  through  this  desert  road, 

Till  all  our  labours  cease, 
And  Heaven  refresh  our  weary  souls 

With  everlasting  peace  ! 

Philip  Doddridge.  1755. 


CCVIII. 

O  how  kindly  hast  Thou  led  me, 

Heavenly  Father,  day  by  day  ! 
Found  my  dwelling,  clothed  and  fed  me, 

Furnish'd  friends  to  cheer  my  way  ! 
Didst  Thou  bless  me,  didst  Thou  chasten, 

With  Thy  smile,  or  with  Thy  rod, 
'Twas  that  still  my  step  might  hasten 

Homeward,  heavenward,  to  my  God  ! 

O  how  slowly  have  I  often 

Follow'd  where  Thy  hand  would  draw  ! 
How  Thy  kindness  fail'd  to  soften  ! 

How  Thy  chastening  fail'd  to  awe  ! 
Make  me  for  Thy  rest  more  ready 

As  Thy  path  is  longer  trod  ; 
Keep  me  in  Thy  friendship  steady, 

Till  Thou  call  me  home,  my  God  ! 

Thomas  Gr infield.  1836. 


CCIX. 

Heavenly  Father,  to  Whose  eye 
Future  things  unfolded  lie, 
Through  the  desert  where  I  stray. 
Let  Thy  counsels  guide  my  way. 


"  Give  us  this  day  our  Daily  Breads       225 

Lord,  uphold  me  day  by  day  ; 
Shed  a  hght  upon  my  way  ; 
Guide  me  through  perplexing  snares  ; 
Care  for  me  in  all  my  cares. 

All  I  ask  for  is,  enough  ; 
Only,  when  the  way  is  rough, 
Let  Thy  rod  and  staff  impart 
Strength  and  courage  to  my  heart. 

Should  Thy  wisdom,  Lord,  decree  . 
Trials  long  and  sharp  for  me, 
Pain  or  sorrow,  care  or  shame, 
Father  !  glorify  Thy  Name  ! 

Let  me  neither  faint  nor  fear. 
Feeling  still  that  Thou  art  near, 
In  the  course  my  Saviour  trod. 
Tending  still  to  Thee,  my  God. 

Josiah  Coitder.  1837. 


ccx. 

Sovereign  Ruler  of  the  skies. 
Ever  gracious,  ever  wise. 
All  my  times  are  in  Thy  hand, 
Ail  events  at  Thy  command. 

His  decree,  who  form'd  the  earth, 
Fix'd  my  first  and  second  birth  ; 
Parents,  native  place,  and  time, 
All  appointed  were  by  Him. 
Q 


226  The  Book  of  Praise. 

He  that  form'd  me  in  the  womb, 
He  shall  guide  me  to  the  tomb  ; 
All  my  times  shall  ever  be 
Order d  by  His  wise  decree; 

Times  of  sickness,  times  of  health, 
Times  of  penury  and  wealth  ; 
Times  of  trial  and  of  grief, 
Times  of  triumph  and  relief; 

Times  the  Tempter  s  power  to  prove, 
Times  to  taste  a  Saviour's  love  ; 
All  must  come,  and  last,  and  end, 
As  shall  please  my  heavenly  Friend. 

Plagues  and  deaths  around  me  fly  ; 
Till  He  bids,  I  cannot  die  : 
Not  a  single  shaft  can  hit 
Till  the  God  of  love  sees  fit. 

0  Thou  Gracious,  Wise,  and  Just ! 
In  Thy  hands  my  life  I  trust : 
Have  I  something  dearer  still  ? 

1  resign  it  to  Thy  will. 

May  I  always  own  Thy  hand  ; 
Still  to  the  surrender  stand  ; 
Know,  that  Thou  art  God  alone ; 
I  and  mine  are  all  Thy  own. 

Thee  at  all  times  will  I  bless ; 
Having  Thee,  I  all  possess  ; 
How  can  I  bereaved  be, 
Since  I  cannot  part  with  Thee  ? 

John  Ryland.  ITTJ, 


"  Give  us  this  day  our  Daily  B?rad'''       227 


ccxi. 

0  Lord,  I  would  delight  in  Thee, 
And  on  Thy  care  depend  ; 

To  Thee  in  every  trouble  flee, 
My  best,  my  only  Friend. 

When  all  created  streams  are  dried, 

Thy  fulness  is  the  same  ; 
May  I  with  this  be  satisfied. 

And  glory  in  Thy  Name  ! 

Why  should  the  soul  a  drop  bemoan. 

Who  has  a  fountain  near  ; 
A  fountain,  which  will  ever  run 

With  waters  sweet  and  clear  ? 

No  good  in  creatures  can  be  found, 
But  may  be  found  in  Thee  ; 

1  must  have  all  things,  and  abound, 
While  God  is  God  to  me. 

Oh  !  that  I  had  a  stronger  faith. 

To  look  within  the  veil  ! 
To  credit  what  my  Saviour  saith. 

Whose  word  can  never  fail ! 

He  that  has  made  my  heaven  secure. 

Will  here  all  good  provide  ; 
While  Christ  is  rich,  can  I  be  poor  ? 

What  can  I  want  beside  ? 

O  Lord,  I  cast  my  care  on  Thee  ; 

I  triumph  and  adore  : 
Henceforth  my  great  concern  shall  be 

To  love  and  please  Thee  more. 

John  Ry land.  I'JTJ. 


228  The  Book  of  Praise. 


CCXII. 

How  gentle  God's  commands, 
How  kind  His  precepts  are  ! 
Come,  cast  your  burdens  on  the  Lord, 
And  trust  His  constant  care. 

While  Providence  supports, 
Let  saints  securely  dwell ; 
That  Hand,  which  bears  all  Nature  up, 
Shall  guide  His  children  well 

Why  should  this  anxious  load 
Press  down  your  weary  mind  ? 
Haste  to  your  heavenly  Fathei-'s  throne, 
And  sweet  refreshment  find. 

His  goodness  stands  approved 
Down  to  the  present  day  : 
I'll  drop  my  burden  at  His  feet, 
And  bear  a  song  away. 

Ph  Hip  Doddridge.  1755. 


CCXIII. 

O  God  of  Bethel,  by  whose  hand 

Thy  people  still  are  fed. 
Who  through  this  weary  pilgrimage 

Hast  all  our  fathers  led  ; 

Our  vows,  our  prayers,  we  now  present 
Before  Thy  throne  of  grace  ; 

God  of  our  fathers  !  be  the  God 
Of  their  succeeding  race. 


Give  us  this  day  our  Daily  Breadr       229 

Through  each  perplexing  path  of  hfe 
Our  wandering  footsteps  guide  ; 

Give  us  each  day  our  daily  bread, 
And  raiment  fit  provide. 

O  spread  Thy  covering  wings  around 

Till  all  our  wanderings  cease, 
And  at  our  Father's  loved  abode 

Our  souls  arrive  in  peace  ! 

Such  blessings  from  Thy  gracious  hand 

Our  humble  prayers  implore  ; 
And  Thou  shalt  be  our  chosen  God, 
And  portion  evermore. 

Variation  by  John  Logan,  ijyo. 
Frojn  Philip  Doddridge.  1755. 


CCXIV. 

O  King  of  earth,  and  air,  and  sea  ! 
The  hungry  ravens  cry  to  Thee  ; 
To  Thee  the  scaly  tribes,  that  sweep 
The  bosom  of  the  boundless  deep  : 
To  Thee  the  lions  roaring  call ; 
The  common  Father,  kind  to  all : 
Then  grant  Thy  servants.  Lord,  we  pray, 
Our  daily  bread  from  day  to  day. 

The  fishes  may  for  food  complain. 
The  ravens  spread  their  wings  in  vain, 
The  roaring  lions  lack  and  pine  ; 
But,  God,  Thou  carest  still  for  Thine  : 
Thy  bounteous  hand  with  food  can  bless 
The  bleak  and  lonely  wilderness  ; 
And  Thou  hast  taught  us.  Lord,  to  pray 
For  daily  bread  from  day  to  day. 


230  The  Book  of  Praise. 

And  oh  !  when  through  the  wilds  we  roam 
That  part  us  from  our  heavenly  home  ; 
When,  lost  in  danger,  want,  and  woe, 
Our  faithless  tears  begin  to  flow  ; 
Do  Thou  the  gracious  comfort  give, 
By  which  alone  the  soul  may  live  ; 
And  grant  Thy  servants,  Lord,  we  pray, 
The  bread  of  life  from  day  to  day  ! 

Bish  op  Reginald  Heber.  1827. 


CCXV. 

Jesus,  the  Shepherd  of  the  sheep, 

Thy  little  flock  in  safety  keep. 

The  flock  for  which  Thou  cam'st  from  Heaven, 

The  flock  for  which  Thy  life  was  given. 

Thou  saw'st  them  wandering  far  from  Thee 
Secure,  as  if  from  danger  free  ; 
Thy  love  did  all  their  wanderings  trace, 
And  brought  them  to  a  wealthy  place. 

O  guard  Thy  sheep  from  beasts  of  prey, 
And  guide  them  that  they  never  stray ; 
Cherish  the  young,  sustain  the  old, 
Let  none  be  feeble  in  Thy  fold  ! 

Secure  them  from  the  scorching  beam, 
And  lead  them  to  the  living  stream  ; 
In  verdant  pastures  let  them  lie, 
And  watch  them  with  a  Shepherd's  eye  ! 

Oh,  may  Thy  sheep  discern  Thy  voice. 
And  in  its  sacred  sound  rejoice ; 
From  strangers  may  they  ever  flee, 
And  know  no  other  guide  but  Thee  ! 


"  Give  us  this  day  our  Daily  BrcadV        23 1 

Lord,  bring  Thy  sheep  that  wander  yet, 
And  let  the  number  be  complete  : 
Then  let  Thy  flock  from  earth  remove, 
And  occupy  the  fold  above. 

Thomas  Kelly.   1 804- 1 836. 


CCXVI. 

Psalm  XXIII. 
The  Lord  my  pasture  shall  prepare. 
And  feed  me  with  a  Shepherd's  care  ; 
His  presence  shall  my  wants  supply, 
And  guard  me  with  a  watchful  eye ; 
My  noon-day  walks  He  shall  attend, 
And  all  my  midnight  hours  defend. 

When  in  the  sultry  glebe  I  faint. 
Or  on  the  thirsty  mountain  pant. 
To  fertile  vales  and  dewy  meads 
My  weaiy,  wandering  steps  He  leads. 
Where  peaceful  rivers,  soft  and  slow, 
Amid  the  verdant  landscape  flow. 

Though  in  the  paths  of  death  I  tread. 
With  gloomy  horrors  overspread. 
My  stedfast  heart  shall  fear  no  ill. 
For  Thou,  O  Lord,  art  with  me  still ; 
Thy  friendly  crook  shall  give  me  aid. 
And  guide  me  through  the  dreadful  shade. 

Though  in  a  bare  and  rugged  way, 
Through  devious  lonely  wilds  I  stray, 
Thy  bounty  shall  my  wants  beguile  ; 
The  barren  wilderness  shall  smile 
With  sudden  greens  and  herbage  crown'd, 
And  streams  shall  murmur  all  around. 

Joseph  Addison.   \']2%. 


232  The  Book  of  Praise. 


CCXVII. 

Psalm  XXIII. 

My  Shepherd  will  supply  my  need, 

Jehovah  is  His  Name  ; 
In  pastures  fresh  He  makes  me  feed 

Beside  the  living  stream. 

He  brings  my  wandering  spirit  back 

When  I  forsake  His  ways, 
And  leads  me,  for  His  mercy's  sake, 

In  paths  of  truth  and  grace. 

When  I  walk  through  the  shades  of  death, 

Thy  presence  is  my  stay  : 
A  word  of  Thy  supporting  breath 

Drives  all  my  fears  away. 

Thy  hand,  in  spite  of  all  my  foes, 

Doth  still  my  table  spread  ; 
My  cup  with  blessings  overflows, 

Thine  oil  anoints  my  head. 

The  sure  provisions  of  my  God 

Attend  me  all  my  days  ; 
O  may  Thy  house  be  mine  abode, 

And  all  m.y  work  be  praise  ! 

There  would  I  find  a  settled  rest, 

W^hile  others  go  and  come  ; 
No  more  a  stranger  or  a  guest, 

But  like  a  child  at  home. 

Isaac  Watts.  1719. 


"  Give  lis  this  day  our  Daily  Bread]''       233 


CCXVTII. 

Psalm  XXIII. 

The  Lord  my  Shepherd  is, 
I  shall  be  well  supplied  ; 
Since  He  is  mine,  and  I  am  His, 
What  can  I  want  beside  ? 

He  leads  me  to  the  place 
Where  heavenly  pasture  grows, 
Where  living  waters  gently  pass, 
And  full  salvation  flows. 

If  e'er  I  go  astray. 
He  doth  my  soul  reclaim. 
And  guides  me  in  His  own  right  way 
For  His  most  holy  Name. 

While  He  affords  His  aid, 
I  cannot  yield  to  fear  ; 
Though  I  should  walk  through  death's  dark  shade, 
My  Shepherd's  with  me  there. 

In  spite  of  all  my  foes 
Thou  dost  my  table  spread  ; 
My  cup  with  blessings  overflows, 
And  joy  exalts  my  head. 

The  bounties  of  Thy  love 
Shall  crown  my  following  days  ; 
Nor  from  Thy  house  will  I  remove. 
Nor  cease  to  speak  Thy  praise. 

Isaac  Watts.   1719. 


^34  The  Book  of  Praise. 


V. 

AND   FORGIVE   US   OUR  TRESPASSES. 

And  forgive  us  our  trespasses ;  as  "we  forgive  them  that 
trespass  against  ns^ 

CCXTX. 

Approach,  my  soul,  the  mercy -seat 

Where  Jesus  answers  prayer  ; 
There  humbly  fall  before  His  feet, 

For  none  can  perish  there. 

Thy  promise  is  my  only  plea, 

With  this  I  venture  nigh  ; 
Thou  callest  burden'd  souls  to  Thee, 

And  such, 

Bow'd  down  beneath  a  load  of  sin, 

By  Satan  sorely  prest, 
By  war  without,  and  fears  within, 

I  come  to  Thee  for  rest. 

Be  Thou  my  shield  and  hiding-place, 

That,  shelter'd  near  Thy  side, 
T  may  my  fierce  accuser  face, 

And  tell  him,  Thou  hast  died  ! 

O  wondrous  love  !  to  bleed  and  die, 

To  bear  the  cross  and  shame, 
That  guilty  sinners,  such  as  I, 

Might  plead  Thy  gracious  Name  ! 

John  Newton.   1779. 


And  forgive  us  our  Trespasses  T  235 


CCXX. 

Almighty  God,  Thy  piercing  eye 

Strikes  through  the  shades  of  night ; 

And  our  most  secret  actions  he 
All  open  to  Thy  sight. 

There's  not  a  sin  that  we  commit, 

Nor  wicked  word  we  say, 
But  in  Thy  dreadful  book  'tis  writ 

Against  the  judgment-day. 

And  must  the  crimes  that  I  have  done 

Be  read  and  publish' d  there, 
Be  all  expos'd  before  the  sun, 

While  men  and  angels  hear  ? 

Lord !   at  Thy  foot  ashamed  I  lie, 

Upward  I  dare  not  look  ; 
Pardon  my  sins  before  I  die, 

And  blot  them  from  Thy  book  ! 

Remember  all  the  dying  pains 

That  my  Redeemer  felt, 
And  let  His  Blood  wash  out  my  stains, 

And  answer  for  my  guilt ! 

Isaac  Waifs.  1720. 


ccxxi. 

Mercy  alone  can  meet  my  case  ; 

For  mercy.  Lord,  I  cry  : 
Jesus  !  Redeemer  !  show  Thy  face 

In  mercy,  or  I  die. 


236  The  Book  of  Praise. 

Save  me,  for  none  beside  can  save  ; 

At  Thy  command  I  tread 
With  faihng  step  hfe's  stormy  wave  ; 

The  wave  goes  o'er  my  head. 

I  perish,  and  my  doom  were  just ; 

But  wilt  Thou  leave  me  ?    No  : 
I  hold  Thee  fast,  my  hope,  my  trust ; 

I  will  not  let  Thee  go  ! 

Still  sure  to  me  Thy  promise  stands, 

And  ever  must  abide  ; 
Behold  it  written  on  Thy  hands. 

And  graven  in  Thy  side  ! 

To  this,  this  only,  will  I  cleave ; 

Thy  word  is  all  my  plea  ; 
Thy  word  is  truth,  and  I  believe  : 

Have  mercy.  Lord,  on  me  ! 

James  Mo7itgomery.  1825. 


CCXXII. 

O  Jesus,  Saviour  of  the  lost. 
My  Rock  and  Hiding-place, 

By  storms  of  sin  and  sorrow  tost, 
I  seek  Thy  sheltering  grace. 

Guilty,  forgive  me.  Lord  !   I  ciy  ; 

Pursued  by  foes  I  come  ; 
A  sinner,  save  me,  or  I  die ; 

An  outcast,  take  me  home; 

Once  safe  in  Thine  almighty  arms, 
Let  storms  come  on  amain  ; 

There  danger  never,  never  harms  ; 
There  death  itself  is  gain. 


"  And  forgive  us  our  Trespasses:'         237 

And  when  I  stand  before  Thy  throne, 

And  all  Thy  glory  see, 
Still  be  my  righteousness  alone 

To  hide  myself  in  Thee. 

Edward  Henry  Bicker steth.  1 85 8. 

CCXXIII. 

WTien  at  Thy  footstool.  Lord,  I  bend, 
And  plead  with  Thee  for  mercy  there, 

Think  of  the  sinner's  dying  friend, 
And  for  His  sake  receive  my  prayer. 

O  think  not  of  my  shame  and  guilt. 
My  thousand  stains  of  deepest  dye  ; 

Think  of  the  blood  which  Jesus  spilt, 
And  let  that  blood  my  pardon  buy. 

Think,  Lord,  how  I  am  still  Thy  own, 
The  trembling  creature  of  Thy  hand  ; 

Think  how  my  heart  to  sin  is  prone. 
And  what  temptations  round  me  stand. 

O  think  upon  Thy  holy  word. 

And  every  plighted  promise  there  ; 

How  prayer  should  evermore  be  heard, 
And  how  Thy  glory  is  to  spare. 

O  think  not  of  my  doubts  and  fears. 
My  strivings  with  Thy  grace  Divine  : 

Think  upon  Jesus'  woes  and  tears, 
And  let  His  merits  stand  for  mine. 

Thine  eye.  Thine  ear,  they  arc  not  dull ; 

Thine  arm  can  never  shorten'd  be  ; 
Behold  me  here  ;  my  heart  is  full ; 

Behold,  and  spare,  and  succour  me  ! 

Hc7iry  Francis  Lytc.  1833 


238  The  Book  of  Praise. 

CCXXIV. 
As  o'er  the  past  my  memory  strays, 

Why  heaves  the  secret  sigh  ? 
'Tis  that  I  mourn  departed  days, 

Still  unprepared  to  die. 

The  world,  and  worldly  things  beloved, 
My  anxious  thoughts  .employed, 

And  time  unhallow'd,  unimproved, 
Presents  a  fearful  void. 

Yet,  holy  Father,  wild  despair 
Chase  from  my  labouring  breast ! 

Thy  grace  it  is,  which  prompts  the  prayer  ; 
That  grace  can  do  the  rest. 

My  life's  brief  remnant  all  be  Thine  I 

And,  when  Thy  sure  decree 
Bids  me  this  fleeting  breath  resign, 

O,  speed  my  soul  to  Thee  ! 
Bishop  Thomas  Fatishaw  Middloton.  [1831, 


ccxxv. 
Forth  from  the  dark  and  stormy  sky. 
Lord  !  to  Thine  altar's  shade  we  fly  : 
Forth  from  the  world,  its  hope  and  fear. 
Saviour  !  we  seek  Thy  shelter  here  : 
Weary  and  weak.  Thy  grace  we  pray  : 
Turn  not,  O  Lord,  Thy  guests  away  ! 

Long  have  we  roam'd  in  want  and  pain  ; 
Long  have  we  sought  Thy  rest  in  vain  ; 
Wilder'd  in  doubt,  in  darkness  lost, 
Long  have  our  souls  been  tempest-tost  : 
Low  at  Thy  feet  our  sins  we  lay  ; 
Turn  not,  O  Lord,  Thy  guests  away  ! 

Bishop  Reginald  Heber.   1827. 


"  And foi'give  its  our  Tix'spasses'^  239 


ccxxvi. 

O  Lord,  turn  not  Thy  face  away 

From  them  that  lowly  lie, 
Lamenting  sore  their  sinful  life 

With  tears  and  bitter  cry  : 
Thy  mercy-gates  are  open  wide 

To  them  that  mourn  their  sin  ; 
O  shut  them  not  against  us,  Lord, 

But  let  us  enter  in. 

We  need  not  to  confess  our  fault, 

For  surely  Thou  canst  tell ; 
What  we  have  done,  and  what  we  are, 

Thou  knowest  very  well ; 
Wherefore,  to  beg  and  to  entreat, 

With  tears  we  come  to  Thee, 
As  children  that  have  done  amiss 

Fall  at  their  father's  knee. 

And  need  we  then,  O  Lord,  repeat 

The  blessing  which  we  crave. 
When  Thou  dost  know,  before  we  speak. 

The  thing  that  we  would  have  ? 
Mercy,  O  Lord,  mercy  we  ask. 

This  is  the  total  sum  ; 
For  mercy,  Lord,  is  all  our  prayer  ; 

O  let  Thy  mercy  come  ! 

Variation  by  Bishop  Reginald  Hcbcr.   1827. 
From  John  Mardley.  1562. 


240  The  Book  of  Praise. 


VI. 


AND   LEAD   US   NOT    INTO   TEMPTATION: 
BUT   DELIVER   US   FROM   EVIL." 

CCXXVII. 

Lead  us,  heavenly  Father,  lead  us 

O'er  the  world's  tempestuous  sea  ; 
Guard  us,  guide  us,  keep  us,  feed  us, 
For  we  have  no  help  but  Thee  ; 
Yet  possessing 
Every  blessing, 
If  our  God  our  Father  be. 

Saviour,  breathe  forgiveness  o'er  us  ; 
All  our  weakness  Thou  dost  know  ; 
Thou  didst  tread  this  earth  before  us, 
Thou  didst  feel  its  keenest  woe  ; 
Lone  and  dreary. 
Faint  and  weary, 
Through  the  desert  Thou  didst  go. 

Spirit  of  our  God,  descending. 

Fill  our  hearts  with  heavenly  joy  ; 
Love  with  every  passion  blending. 
Pleasure  that  can  never  cloy  : 
Thus  provided, 
Pardon'd,  guided, 
Nothing  can  our  peace  destroy. 

James  Ediueston.  1820. 


"  Lead  lis  not  i?iio  Temptatiofir  241 


CCXXVIII. 

Jesu  !  guide  our  way 

To  eternal  day  ! 
So  shall  we,  no  more  delaying, 
Follow  Thee,  Thy  voice  obeying  ; 

Lead  us  by  Thy  hand 

To  our  Father  s  land  ! 

When  we  danger  meet, 

Stedfast  make  our  feet ! 
Lord,  preserve  us  uncomplaining 
'Mid  the  darkness  round  us  reigning ! 

Through  adversity 

Lies  our  way  to  Thee. 

Order  all  our  way 
Through  this  mortal  day  ; 
In  our  toil  with  aid  be  near  us  ; 
In  our  need  with  succour  cheer  us  ; 
When  life's  course  is  o'er, 
Open  Thou  the  door  ! 

A  rthur  Tozer  Russell.  1 85 1 . 
From  Louis,  Coimt  Zinzendorf. 


CCXXIX. 

Star  of  morn  and  even, 
Sun  of  Heaven's  heaven. 
Saviour  high  and  dear. 
Toward  us  turn  Thine  ear  ; 
Through  whate'er  may  come, 
Thou  canst  lead  us  home, 

R 


242  The  Book  of  Praise. 

Though  the  gloom  be  grievous, 
Those  we  leant  on  leave  us, 

Though  the  coward  heart 

Quit  its  proper  part, 

Though  the  Tempter  come, 

Thou  wilt  lead  us  home. 

Saviour  pure  and  holy, 
Lover  of  the  lowly. 

Sign  us  with  Thy  sign, 

Take  our  hands  in  Thine, 

Take  our  hands  and  come. 

Lead  Thy  children  home  ! 

Star  of  morn  and  even. 
Shine  on  us  from  Heaven, 

From  Thy  glory-throne 

Hear  Thy  very  own  ! 

Lord  and  Saviour,  come. 

Lead  us  to  our  home  ! 

Francis  Turner  Palo-rave.  1862. 


ccxxx. 

O  Thou,  to  whose  all-searching  sight 
The  darkness  shineth  as  the  light. 
Search,  prove  my  heart ;  it  pants  for  Thee 
O,  burst  these  bands,  and  set  it  free  ! 

Wash  out  its  stains,  refine  its  dross  ; 
Nail  my  affections  to  the  cross  ; 
Hallow  each  thought ;  let  all  within 
Be  clean,  as  Thou,  my  Lord,  art  clean. 


^^ Lead  21s  not  into  TemptationV  243 

If  in  this  darksome  wild  I  stray, 

Be  Thou  my  Light,  be  Thou  my  Way ; 

No  foes,  no  violence  I  fear, 

No  fraud,  while  Thou,  my  God,  art  near. 

When  rising  floods  my  soul  o'erflow. 
When  sinks  my  heart  in  waves  of  woe, 
Jesu,  Thy  timely  aid  impart, 
And  raise  my  head,  and  cheer  my  heart. 

Saviour  !  where'er  Thy  steps  I  see. 
Dauntless,  untired,  I  follow  Thee  : 
O  let  Thy  hand  support  me  still, 
And  lead  me  to  Thy  holy  hill ! 

If  rough  and  thorny  be  the  way. 
My  strength  proportion  to  my  day  ; 
Till  toil,  and  grief,  and  pain  shall  cease 
Where  all  is  calm  and  joy  and  peace. 

John  Wesley.     i739— 1743- 
From  the  German. 


ccxxxi. 
Guide  me,  O  Thou  great  Jehovah  ! 

Pilgrim  through  this  barren  land  ; 
I  am  weak,  but  Thou  art  mighty; 
Hold  me  with  Thy  powerful  hand  ! 
Bread  of  Heaven  !  Bread  of  Heaven  ! 
Feed  me  now  and  evermore  ! 

Open  now  the  crystal  Fountain, 

Whence  the  healing  streams  do  flow  ; 
Let  the  fiery  cloudy  pillar 

Lead  me  all  my  journey  through  ; 
Strong  Deliverer  !  Strong  Deliverer  ! 
Be  Thou  still  my  Strength  and  Shield  i 
R  2 


244  The  Book  of  Praise. 

When  I  tread  the  verge  of  Jordan, 

Bid  my  anxious  fears  subside  ; 
Death  of  death,  and  Hell's  Destruction, 
Land  me  safe  on  Canaan's  side  ; 
Songs  of  praises.  Songs  of  praises, 
I  will  ever  give  to  Thee  ! 

Willia7n  Williams.   1774. 


CCXXXII. 

Jesus  !  lead  us  with  Thy  power 

Safe  unto  the  promised  Rest ; 
Hide  our  souls  within  Thy  bosom  ; 

Let  us  slumber  on  Thy  breast ; 
Feed  us  with  the  heavenly  manna, 

Bread  that  angels  eat  above  ; 
Let  us  drink  from  the  holy  Fountain 

Draughts  of  everlasting  Love  ! 

Throughout  the  desert  wild  conduct  us 

With  a  glorious  pillar  bright. 
In  the  day  a  cooling  comfort, 

And  a  cheering  fire  by  night ; 
Be  our  guide  in  every  peril. 

Watch  us  hourly  night  and  day  ; 
Otherwise  we'll  err  and  wander 

From  Thy  Spirit  far  away. 

In  Thy  Presence  we  are  happy  ; 

In  Thy  Presence  we're  secure  ; 
In  Thy  Presence  all  afflictions 

We  will  easily  endure  ; 
In  Thy  Presence  we  can  conquer. 

We  can  suff"er,  we  can  die  ; 
Far  from  Thee,  we  faint  and  languish  : 

Lord,  our  Saviour,  keep  us  nigh  ! 

William  Williams.  1772. 


"  Lead  us  ?iot  into  Temptation''  245 

ccxxxiii. 

Psalm  CXXI. 

Up  to  the  hills  I  lift  mine  eyes, 
The  eternal  hills  beyond  the  skies  ; 
Thence  all  her  help  my  soul  derives, 
There  my  Almighty  Refuge  lives. 

He  lives,  the  everlasting  God, 
That  built  the  vv-orld,  that  spread  the  flood  ; 
The  heavens  with  all  their  hosts  He  made. 
And  the  dark  regions  of  the  dead. 

He  guides  our  feet,  He  guards  our  way ; 
His  morning  smiles  bless  all  the  day  ; 
He  spreads  the  evening  veil,  and  keeps 
The  silent  hours  while  Israel  sleeps. 

Israel,  a  name  divinely  blest, 
May  rise  secure,  securely  rest ; 
Thy  holy  Guardian's  wakeful  eyes 
Admit  no  slumber  nor  surprise. 

No  sun  shall  smite  thy  head  by  day, 
Nor  the  pale  moon  with  sickly  ray 
Shall  blast  thy  couch  ;  no  baleful  star 
Dart  his  malignant  fire  so  far. 

Should  earth  and  hell  with  malice  burn, 
Still  thou  shalt  go,  and  still  return. 
Safe  in  the  Lord  ;  His  heavenly  care 
Defends  thy  life  from  every  snare. 

On  thee  foul  spirits  have  no  power  ; 
And,  in  thy  last  departing  hour, 
Angels,  that  trace  the  airy  road. 
Shall  bear  thee  homeward  to  thy  God. 

Isaac  Watts.  1719. 


246  The  Book  of  Praise. 

ccxxxiv. 

Psalm  CXXI. 

To  Heaven  I  lift  mine  eye, 
To  Heaven,  Jehovah's  throne, 
For  there  my  Saviour  sits  on  high, 
And  thence  shall  strength  and  aid  supply 
To  all  He  calls  His  own. 

He  will  not  faint  nor  fail. 

Nor  cause  thy  feet  to  stray  : 
For  Him  no  wear}^  hours  assail, 
Nor  evening  darkness  spreads  her  veil 

O'er  His  eternal  day. 

Beneath  that  light  divine 

Securely  shalt  thou  move  ; 
The  sun  with  milder  beams  shall  shine, 
And  eve's  still  queen  her  lamp  incline 

Benignant  from  above. 

For  He,  thy  God  and  Friend, 
Shall  keep  thy  soul  from  harm. 
In  each  sad  scene  of  doubt  attend. 
And  guide  thy  life,  and  bless  thine  end, 
With  His  Almighty  arm. 

John  Bowdler.  1814. 

ccxxxv. 
Psalm  XI. 

My  trust  is  in  the  Lord, 

What  foe  can  injure  me  ? 

Why  bid  me  like  a  bird 

Before  the  fowler  flee  ? 
The  Lord  is  on  His  heavenly  throne, 
And  He  will  shield  and  save  His  own. 


"  But  deliver  7isf?v??t  EvilP  247 

The  wicked  may  assail, 

,The  Tempter  sorely  try, 

All  earth's  foundations  fail, 

All  nature's  springs  be  dry  ; 
Yet  God  is  in  His  holy  shrine, 
And  I  am  strong  while  He  is  mine. 

His  flock  to  Him  is  dear, 

He  watches  them  from  high  ; 

He  sends  them  trials  here 

To  form  them  for  the  sky  ; 
But  safely  will  He  tend  and  keep 
The  humblest,  feeblest,  of  His  sheep. 

His  foes  a  season  here 
.   May  triumph  and  prevail ; 
But  ah  !  the  hour  is  near 
When  all  their  hopes  must  fail ; 
While,  like  the  sun,  His  saints  shall  rise, 
And  shine  with  Him  above  the  skies. 

Henry  Fraiicis  Lyte.  1834. 


ccxxxvi. 
Psalm  XLVI. 

God  is  our  Refuge,  tried  and  proved, 

Amid  a  stormy  world  ; 
We  will  not  fear,  though  earth  be  moved, 

And  hills  in  ocean  hurled. 

The  waves  may  roar,  the  mountains  shake, 

Our  comforts  shall  not  cease  ; 
The  Lord  His  saints  will  not  forsake, 

The  Lord  will  give  us  peace. 


24S  The  Book  of  Praise. 

A  gentle  stream  of  hope  and  love 

To  us  shall  ever  flow  ; 
It  issues  from  His  throne  above, 

It  cheers  His  Church  below. 

When  earth  and  hell  against  us  came, 
He  spake,  and  quell'd  their  powers  ; 

The  Lord  of  hosts  is  still  the  same  ; 
The  God  of  grace  is  ours. 

Henry  Francis  Lyte.  1 834 


CCXXXVII. 

Psalm  XCI. 

There  is  a  safe  and  secret  place 

Beneath  the  wings  divine, 
Reserved  for  all  the  heirs  of  grace  ; 

O,  be  that  refuge  mine  ! 

The  least  and  feeblest  there  may  bide, 

Uninjured  and  unawed ; 
While  thousands  fall  on  every  side, 

He  rests  secure  in  God. 

The  angels  watch  him  on  his  way, 
And  aid  with  friendly  arm  ; 

And  Satan,  roaring  for  His  prey. 
May  hate,  but  cannot  harm. 

He  feeds  in  pastures  large  and  fair 

Of  love  and  truth  divine  : 
O  child  of  God,  O  glory's  heir, 

How  rich  a  lot  is  thine  ! 


"  But  deliver  us  fro7n  EvilP  249 

A  hand  Almighty  to  defend, 

An  ear  for  every  call, 
An  honour'd  life,  a  peaceful  end, 

And  Heaven  to  crown  it  all ! 

Henry  Francis  Lyte.  1834. 


CCXXXVIII. 

Oh  help  us,  Lord  !  each  hour  of  need, 

Thy  heavenly  succour  give  ; 
Help  us  in  thought,  and  word,  and  deed. 

Each  hour  on  earth  we  live  ! 

Oh,  help  us  when  our  spirits  bleed 

With  contrite  anguish  sore  ; 
And  when  our  hearts  are  cold  and  dead, 

Oh,  help  us,  Lord,  the  more  ! 

Oh,  help  us,  through  the  prayer  of  faith, 

More  firmly  to  believe  ; 
For  still,  the  more  the  servant  hath, 

The  more  shall  he  receive. 

If  strangers  to  Thy  fold  w'e  call. 

Imploring  at  Thy  feet 
The  crumbs  that  from  Thy  table  fall, 

'Tis  all  we  dare  entreat. 

But  be  it.  Lord  of  mercy,  all. 
So  Thou  wilt  grant  but  this  : 

The  crumbs  that  from  Thy  table  fall 
Are  light,  and  life,  and  bliss. 


250  The  Book  of  Praise. 

Oh,  help  us,  Jesus,  from  on  high  ! 

We  know  no  help  but  Thee  : 
Oh,  help  us  so  to  live  and  die, 

As  Thine  in  Heaven  to  be  ! 

He7i  ry  Hart  Mihnan.   1827. 


ccxxxix. 

O  Thou,  from  whom  all  goodness  flows, 

I  lift  my  heart  to  Thee  ; 
In  all  my  sorrows,  conflicts,  woes, 

Dear  Lord,  remember  me  ! 

When  groaning  on  my  burden'd  heart 

My  sins  lie  heavily, 
My  pardon  speak,  new  peace  impart, 

In  love  remember  me  ! 

Temptations  sore  obstruct  my  way  ; 

And  ills  I  cannot  flee  : 
Oh,  give  me  strength.  Lord,  as  my  day  ; 

For  good  remember  me  ! 

Distrest  in  pain,  disease,  and  grief. 

This  feeble  body  see  ! 
Grant  patience,  rest,  and  kind  relief ; 

Hear,  and  remember  me  ! 

If  on  my  face,  for  Thy  dear  Name, 

Shame  and  reproaches  be  ; 
All  hail  reproach,  and  welcome  shame. 

If  Thou  remember  me  ! 


'''■But  deliver  us  from  EvilT  25 1 

The  hour  is  near ;  consign'd  to  death 

I  own  the  just  decree  : 
"  Saviour  !"  with  my  last  parting  breath, 

I'll  cry,  "  RememlDer  me  !" 

Thomas  Haiveis.  1 792. 


CCXL. 

Jesu,  lover  of  my  soul, 

Let  me  to  Thy  bosom  fly, 
While  the  nearer  waters  roll, 

While  the  tempest  still  is  high  ! 
Hide  me,  O  my  Saviour,  hide, 

Till  the  storm  of  life  is  past, 
Safe  into  the  haven  guide  ; 

O  receive  my  soul  at  last ! 

Other  refuge  have  I  none  ; 

Hangs  my  helpless  soul  on  Thee  ; 
Leave,  ah  !  leave  me  not  alone. 

Still  support  and  comfort  me  ! 
All  my  trust  on  Thee  is  stay'd. 

All  my  help  from  Thee  I  bring : 
Cover  my  defenceless  head 

With  the  shadow  of  Thy  wing ! 

Wilt  Thou  not  regard  my  call  ? 

Wilt  Thou  not  accept  my  prayer  ? 
Lo  !  I  sink,  I  faint,  I  fall ! 

Lo  !  on  Thee  I  cast  my  care  ! 
Reach  me  out  Thy  gracious  hand  ! 

While  I  of  Thy  strength  receive, 
Hoping  against  hope  I  stand, 

Dying,  and  behold  I  live  ! 


252  The  Book  of  Praise. 

Thou,  O  Christ,  art  all  I  want ; 

More  than  all  in  Thee  I  find  : 
Raise  the  fallen,  cheer  the  faint, 

Heal  the  sick,  and  lead  the  blind '. 
Just  and  holy  is  Thy  Name  ; 

I  am  all  unrighteousness  ; 
False  and  full  of  sin  I  am, 

Thou  art  full  of  truth  and  grace. 

Plenteous  grace  with  Thee  is  found, 

Grace  to  cover  all  my  sin  ; 
Let  the  healing  streams  abound  ; 

Make  and  keep  me  pure  within  ! 
Thou  of  Life  the  Fountain  art, 

Freely  let  me  take  of  Thee  ; 
Spring  Thou  up  within  my  heart  ! 

Rise  to  all  eternity  ! 

Charles  IVeshy.  1740. 


CCXLI. 

Now  may  He,  who  from  the  dead 
Brought  the  Shepherd  of  the  sheep, 

Jesus  Christ,  our  King  and  Head, 
All  our  souls  in  safety  keep  1 

May  He  teach  us  to  fulfil 
What  is  pleasing  in  His  sight, 

Perfect  us  in  all  His  will, 
And  preserve  us  day  and  night ! 

To  that  dear  Redeemer's  praise 

Who  the  covenant  seal'd  with  blood, 

Let  our  hearts  and  voices  raise 
Loud  thanksgivings  to  our  God  ! 

Joh7t  Newton.   1779. 


For  Thine  is  the  Kingdojn]''  &^c.  253 

CCXLII. 

O  most  merciful, 

O  most  bountiful, 
God  the  Father  Almighty  ! 

By  the  Redeemer's 

Sweet  intercession, 
Hear  us,  help  us,  when  we  cry  ! 

Bishop  Reginald  Heber.  1827. 


VII. 

FOR  THINE  IS  THE  KINGDOM,  THE  POWER, 
AND  THE  GLORY,  FOR  EVER  AND  EVER. 
AMEN." 

CCXLIII. 
Now  to  Him,  w^ho  loved  us,  gave  us 
Every  pledge  that  love  could  give, 
Freely  shed  His  Blood  to  save  us. 

Gave  His  life  that  w^e  might  live  : 
Be  the  kingdom,  and  dominion, 
And  the  glory,  evermore  ! 

Variation.  [i844.J 
Fro7n  Sa?nuel  Miller  Waring.  1827. 

CCXLIV. 

Worship,  honour,  glor>',  blessing, 

Lord,  we  offer  to  Thy  Name  : 
Young  and  old  their  praise  expressing, 

Join  Thy  goodness  to  proclaim. 
As  the  saints  in  Heaven  adore  Thee, 

We  would  bow  before  Thy  throne  ; 
As  the  angels  serve  before  Thcc, 

So  on  earth  Thy  will  be  done  ! 

Edward  Osier     1 836. 


254  The  Book  of  P^-aise. 


CCXLV. 

Psalm  CXVII. 

From  all  that  dwell  below  the  skies 
Let  the  Creator's  praise  arise  ; 
Let  the  Redeemer's  Name  be  sung 
Through  every  land,  by  every  tongue  ! 

Eternal  are  Thy  mercies,  Lord  ! 
Eternal  truth  attends  Thy  word  : 
Thy  praise  shall  sound  from  shore  to  shore. 
Till  suns  shall  rise  and  set  no  more. 

Isaac  Watts.  17 ig. 


END  OF  PART  11. 


PART  III. 

HYMNS  FOR  NATURAL  AND  SACRED 
SEASONS. 


®lje  §0oli  of  f  raist. 

PART  THE  THIRD. 

HYMNS  FOR  NATURAL  AND  SACRED 
SEASONS. 

I. 
DAY   AND   NIGHT. 

CCXLVI. 

Morning. 

Awake,  my  soul,  and  with  the  sun 
Thy  daily  stage  of  duty  run  ; 
Shake  off  dull  sloth,  and  joyful  rise 
To  pay  Thy  morning  sacrifice. 

Thy  precious  time  mis-spent  redeem  ; 
Each  present  day  thy  last  esteem  ; 
Improve  thy  talent  with  due  care  ; 
For  the  great  day  thyself  prepare. 

In  conversation  be  sincere  ; 
Keep  conscience  as  the  noontide  clear ; 
Think  how  All-seeing  God  thy  ways 
And  all  thy  secret  thoughts  surveys. 

By  influence  of  the  light  divine 
Let  thy  own  light  to  others  shine  ; 
Reflect  all  Heaven's  propitious  rays, 
In  ardent  love  and  cheerful  praise. 

s 


258  The  Book  of  Praise. 

Wake  and  lift  up  thyself,  my  heart, 
And  with  the  angels  bear  thy  part, 
Who,  all  night  long,  unwearied  sing 
High  praise  to  the  Eternal  King. 

I  wake  !  I  wake  I  Ye  heavenly  choir, 
May  your  devotion  me  inspire, 
That  I,  like  you,  my  age  may  spend, 
Like  you  may  on  my  God  attend  ! 

May  I,  like  you,  in  God  delight, 
Have  all  day  long  my  God  in  sight, 
Perform  like  you  my  Maker's  will  ! 

0  may  I  never  more  do  ill ! 

Had  I  your  wings,  to  Heaven  I'd  fly  ; 
But  God  shall  that  defect  supply  ; 
And  my  soul,  wing'd  with  warm  desire, 
Shall  all  day  long  to  Heaven  aspire. 

All  praise  to  Thee,  who  safe  hast  kept. 
And  hast  refresh'd  me  whilst  I  slept ! 
Grant,  Lord,  when  I  from  death  shall  wake, 

1  may  of  endless  light  partake  ! 

I  w^ould  not  wake,  nor  rise  again, 
A.nd  Heaven  itself  I  w^ould  disdain, 
Wert  Thou  not  there  to  be  enjoyd, 
And  I  in  hymns  to  be  employ'd  ! 

Heaven  is,  dear  Lord,  where'er  Thou  art  ; 
O  never  then  from  me  depart ! 
For,  to  my  soul,  'tis  hell  to  be 
But  for  one  moment  void  of  Thee. 

Lord,  I  my  vows  to  Thee  renew  ; 
Disperse  my  sins  as  morning  dev/ ; 


Day  and  Night.  259 

Guard  my  first  springs  of  thought  and  will, 
And  with  Thyself  my  spirit  fill. 

Direct,  control,  suggest,  this  day, 

All  I  design,  or  do,  or  say  ; 

That  all  my  powers,  with  all  their  might. 

In  Thy  sole  glory  may  unite. 

Praise  God,  from  whom  all  blessings  flow  ; 
Praise  Him,  all  creatures  here  below  ! 
Praise  Him  above,  ye  heavenly  host  ; 
Praise  Father,  Son,  and  Holy  Ghost ! 

Bishop  Thomas  Ke7i.   1697— 1709. 


CCXLVII. 

Morning. 

God  of  tlie  morning,  at  whose  voice 
The  cheerful  sun  makes  haste  to  rise, 

And  like  a  giant  doth  rejoice 

To  run  his  journey  through  the  skies  ; 

From  the  fair  chambers  of  the  east 

The  circuit  of  his  race  begins  ; 
And,  without  weariness  or  rest. 

Round  the  whole  earth  he  flies  and  shines 

O,  like  the  sun,  may  I  fulfil 
Th'  appointed  duties  of  the  day, 

With  ready  mind  and  active  will 

March  on,  and  keep  my  heavenly  way ! 

But  I  shall  rove  and  lose  the  race, 
If  God,  my  sun,  should  disappear. 

And  leave  me  in  this  world's  wide  maze 
To  follow  every  wandering  star. 
s  2 


56o  The  Book  of  Praise. 

Lord  !  Thy  commands  are  clean  and  pure, 
Enlightening  our  beclouded  eyes  ; 

Thy  threatenings  just,  Thy  promise  sure  ; 
Thy  Gospel  makes  the  simple  wise. 

Give  me  Thy  counsel  for  my  guide, 
And  then  receive  me  to  Thy  bliss  : 

All  my  desires  and  hopes  beside 

Are  faint  and  cold,  compared  with  this  ! 

Isaac  Watts.  1719. 

CCXLVIII. 

Monmig. 

O  timely  happy,  timely  wise. 
Hearts  that  with  rising  morn  arise  ! 
Eyes  that  the  beam  celestial  view, 
Which  evermore  makes  all  things  new  ! 

New  every  morning  is  the  love 
Our  wakening  and  uprising  prove. 
Through  sleep  and  darkness  safely  brought, 
Restored  to  life,  and  power,  and  thought. 

New  mercies,  each  returning  day, 

Hover  around  us  while  we  pray  ; 

New  perils  past,  new  sins  forgiven, 

New  thoughts  of  God,  new  hopes  of  Heaven. 

If,  on  our  daily  course,  our  mind 
Be  set  to  hallow  all  we  find, 
New  treasures  still,  of  countless  price, 
God  will  provide  for  sacrifice. 

Old  friends,  old  scenes,  will  lovelier  be. 
As  more  of  Heaven  in  each  we  see  ; 
Some  softening  gleam  of  love  and  prayer 
Shall  dawn  on  eveiy  cross  and  care. 


Day  and  Night.  261 

As  for  some  dear  familiar  strain 
Untired  we  ask,  and  ask  again  ; 
Ever,  in  its  melodious  store, 
Finding  a  spell  unheard  before  ; 

Such  is  the  bliss  of  souls  serene, 

When  they  have  sworn,  and  steadfast  mean, 

Counting  the  cost,  in  all  t'  espy 

Their  God,  in  all  themselves  deny. 

O  could  we  learn  that  sacrifice. 
What  lights  would  all  around  us  rise  ! 
How  would  our  hearts  with  wisdom  talk 
Along  life's  dullest,  dreariest  walk  ! 

We  need  not  bid,  for  cloister'd  cell, 
Our  neighbour  and  our  work  farewell, 
Nor  strive  to  wind  ourselves  too  high 
For  sinful  man  beneath  the  sky  : 

The  trivial  round,  the  common  task. 
Will  furnish  all  we  ought  to  ask ; 
Room  to  deny  ourselves  ;  a  road 
To  bring  us,  daily,  nearer  God. 

Seek  we  no  more  :  content  with  these, 
Let  present  rapture,  comfort,  case. 
As  Heaven  shall  bid  them,  come  and  go; 
The  secret  this  of  rest  below. 

Only,  O  Lord,  in  Thy  dear  love 
Fit  us  for  perfect  rest  above  ; 
And  help  us,  this  and  every  day, 
To  live  more  nearly  as  we  pray  ! 

JohnKcble.  1827. 


262  The  Book  of  Praise. 

CCXLIX. 
M or  fling. 

Since  Thou  hast  added  now,  O  God  ! 

Unto  my  hfe  another  day, 
And  giv'st  me  leave  to  walk  abroad, 

And  labour  in  my  lawful  way  ; 
My  walks  and  works  with  me  begin, 
Conduct  me  forth,  and  bring  me  in. 

In  every  power  my  soul  enjoy» 

Internal  virtues  to  improve  ; 
In  every  sense  that  she  employs 

In  her  external  works  to  move  ; 
Bless  her,  O  God  !  and  keep  me  sound 
From  outv/ard  harm  and  inward  wound. 

Let  sin  nor  Satan's  fraud  prevail 
To  make  mine  eye  of  reason  blind, 

Or  faith,  or  hope,  or  love  to  fail, 
Or  any  virtues  of  the  mind  ; 

But  more  and  more  let  them  increase, 

And  bring  me  to  mine  end  in  peace. 

Lewd  courses  let  my  feet  forbear  ; 

Keep  Thou  my  hands  from  doing  wrong  ; 
Let  not  ill  counsels  pierce  mine  ear, 

Nor  wicked  words  defile  my  tongue  ; 
And  keep  the  windows  of  each  eye 
That  no  strange  lust  climb  in  thereby. 

But  guard  Thou  safe  my  heart  in  chief; 

That  neither  hate,  revenge,  nor  fear, 
Nor  vain  desire,  vain  joy,  or  grief, 

Obtain  command  or  dwelling  there  : 
And,  Lord !  with  every  saving  grace, 
Still  true  to  Thee  maintain  that  place  ! 


Day  and  Night.  263 

So  till  the  evening  of  this  morn 

My  time  shall  then  so  well  be  spent, 

That  when  the  twilight  shall  return 
I  may  enjoy  it  with  content, 

And  to  Thy  praise  and  honour  say, 

That  this  hath  proved  a  happy  day. 

George  Wither,  1641. 


CCL. 

Morning. 

Christ,  whose  glory  fills  the  skies, 

Christ,  the  true,  the  only  Light, 
Sun  of  Righteousness,  arise, 

Triumph  o'er  the  shades  of  night ! 
Day-spring  from  on  high,  be  near  ! 
Day-star,  in  my  heart  appear  ! 

Dark  and  cheerless  is  the  morn 

Unaccompanied  by  Thee  ; 
joyless  is  the  day's  return, 

Till  Thy  mercy's  beams  I  see  ; 
Till  they  inward  light  impart. 
Glad  my  eyes,  and  warm  my  heart. 

Visit  then  this  soul  of  mine, 

Pierce  the  gloom  of  sin  and  grief ! 

Fill  me,  Radiancy  Divine, 
Scatter  all  my  unbelief ! 

More  and  more  Thyself  display, 

Shining  to  the  perfect  day  ! 

Charles  Wesley.  1740. 


264  Ths  Book  oj  Praise. 

CCLI. 
Morning. 
"  Sple7idor  Patern(B  Gloj'ice^'^ 
O  Jesu,  Lord  of  heavenly  grace, 
Thou  brightness  of  Thy  Father's  face, 
Thou  Fountain  of  eternal  light, 
Whose  beams  disperse  the  shades  of  night ! 

Come,  holy  Sun  of  heavenly  love, 
Shower  down  Thy  radiance  from  above, 
And  to  our  inward  hearts  convey 
The  Holy  Spirit's  cloudless  ray. 

And  we  the  Father's  help  will  claim, 
And  sing  the  Father's  glorious  Name  ; 
His  powerful  succour  we  implore. 
That  we  may  stand,  to  fall  no  more. 

May  He  our  actions  deign  to  bless, 
And  loose  the  bonds  of  wickedness  ; 
From  sudden  falls  our  feet  defend, 
And  bring  us  to  a  prosperous  end. 

May  faith,  deep  rooted  in  the  soul, 
Subdue  our  flesh,  our  minds  control ; 
May  guile  depart,  and  discord  cease. 
And  all  within  be  joy  and  peace. 

And  Christ  shall  be  our  daily  food. 
Our  daily  drink  His  precious  blood  ; 
And  thus  the  Spirit's  calm  excess 
Shall  fill  our  souls  with  holiness. 

O  hallowed  be  the  approaching  day  ! 
Let  meekness  be  our  morning  ray  ; 
And  faithful  love  our  noonday  light  ; 
And  hope  our  sunset,  calm  and  bright ! 


Day  and  Night,  265 

O  Christ !  with  each  returning  morn 
Thine  image  to  our  hearts  is  borne  : 
O,  may  we  ever  clearly  see 
Our  Saviour  and  our  God  in  Thee  ! 

John  Cha7idler.  1837. 
From  St.  Ambrose. 


CCLII. 

Morjiing. 

Lord  God  of  morning  and  of  night, 
We  thank  Thee  for  Thy  gift  of  light  : 
As  in  the  dawn  the  shadows  fly, 
We  seem  to  find  Thee  now  more  nigh. 

Fresh  hopes  have  waken'd  in  our  hearts. 
Fresh  energy  to  do  our  parts  ; 
Thy  thousand  sleeps  our  strength  restore, 
A  thousand  fold  to  serve  Thee  more. 

Yet  whilst  Thy  will  we  would  pursue, 
Oft  what  we  would  we  cannot  do  ; 
The  sun  may  stand  in  zenith  skies. 
But  on  the  soul  thick  midnight  lies. 

O  Lord  of  lights  !  'tis  Thou  alone 
Canst  make  our  darken'd  hearts  Thine  own  : 
Though  this  new  day  with  joy  we  see, 
O  Dawn  of  God  !  w^e  cry  for  Thee  ! 

Praise  God,  our  Maker  and  our  Friend  ! 
Praise  Him  through  time,  till  time  shall  end! 
Till  psalm  and  song  His  Name  adore 
Through  Heaven  s  great  day  of  Evermore  ! 
Francis  Turner  Palgrave.  1862. 


266  The  Book  of  Praise. 

CCLIII. 

Mid-day. 

When  at  mid-day  my  task  I  ply 
With  labouring  hand  or  watchful  eye, 
I  need  the  timely  aid  of  prayer 
To  guard  my  soul  from  worldly  care. 

Thou,  Lord,  didst  consecrate  this  hour 
To  mind  us  of  Thy  saving  power, 
Thy  giving  water's  heavenly  spell. 
The  mystery  of  Jacob's  well. 

There,  about  noon,  with  toil  oppress'd, 
Feebly  Thy  voice  its  plaint  express'd, 
^'  Give  Me  to  drink  !"  O  wondrous  woe  ! 
God  thirsts,  from  whom  all  blessings  -flow  ! 

He  needed  not,  by  v/hom  we  live, 
And  only  ask'd,  that  He  might  give  : 
A  mightier  want  He  felt  within  ; 
The  thirst  to  save  a  soul  from  sin. 

Lord,  in  our  pilgrimage  of  grace, 
Thy  weary  footsteps  oft  we  trace  ; 
And  in  the  inner  man  renew 
The  grief,  Thy  sacred  body  knew. 

Our  spirits  faint  upon  the  way, 
We  bear  the  burden  of  the  day  : 
'Tis  then  for  strength  to  Thee  we  turn, 
Sit  at  Thy  feet,  and  wisdom  learn. 

We  ask  of  Thee,  the  gift  of  God, 
Pure  water  from  the  vital  flood, 
To  cure  our  feverish  thirst  of  sin, 
A  well  of  water  deep  within. 


Day  and  Night.  267 

'Twas  at  mid-day,  on  blood  intent, 
Saul  to  Damascus  raging  went : 
A  light  from  heaven  upon  him  came, 
Putting  that  mid-day  sun  to  shame. 

The  sudden  glorious  burst  appals  ; 
Dash'd  to  the  earth  he  headlong  falls  : 
A  Voice  reproves  ;  a  Form  appears  ; 
Aghast  he  sees  and  trembling  hears. 

Now  streams  that  light  with  melljplfl  glow 
Around  our  path,  where'er  we  go?^ 
Inviting  us  at  noon  to  raise 
Our  hearts  to  God  in  prayer  and  praise. 

And  calmly  now  w^e  hear  that  word  ; 
It  bids  us  rise  and  meet  the  Lord  : 
What  hour  He  cometh,  none  can  say  ; 
At  dead  of  night,  or  at  mid-day. 

O  !  rise  thou  then,  and  strive,  my  soul, 
To  reach  the  beatific  goal ! 
Thy  every  nerve  and  sinew  strain, 
The  crown  of  glory  to  obtain  ! 

For  see,  in  all  this  iioon-tide  heat, 
How  worldlings  labour  for  the  meat 
That  perishes  and  comes  to  nought. 
Like  shadow,  when  we  think  'tis  caught. 


And  wilt  thou  then  refuse  thy  pains 
For  heaven's  imperishable  gains  ? 
Or  canst  thou  grudge  thy  utmost  toil 
For  treasures,  none  can  steal  or  spoil  .'* 


268  The  Book  of  Praise. 

The  sun  has  its  meridian  past ; 
Soon  will  its  beams  oblique  be  cast ; 
And  twilight  pale  will  rise  t'  enshroud 
Their  radiance  in  the  western  cloud. 


Yet,  for  a  time,  'tis  bright  and  glad  ; 
But  coming  night  is  dark  and  sad : 
The  day  to  man  for  toil  was  given  ; 
And  none  at  night  can  work  for  Heaven. 

Sun  of  my  soul,  Thyself  display  ! 
Quicken  me.  Lord,  and  cheer  my  way  ! 
Till,  borne  upon  Thy  healing  wing, 
Upward  I  soar  Thy  praise  to  sing. 

E'en  now,  when  far  from  Thy  bless'd  light, 
At  morn  and  eve,  at  noon  and  night, 
I  tune  my  heart  betimes,  to  join. 
Where  angels  in  Thy  presence  shine. 

Yet  angels,  in  their  loftiest  song. 
Fail  in  their  flight,  and  do  Thee  wrong  ; 
Like  as  their  veil'd  adoring  face 
Tells  of  a  Glory,  none  can  trace  ! 

And  now,  my  mid-day  homage  paid, 
Life's  busy  path  again  I  tread  ; 
Yet  happier  far  its  task  I  ply 
From  surer  trust  that  Thou  art  nigh  ; 

Nigh  to  defend,  assist,  and  bless. 
Making  my  cares  and  dangers  less  ; 
And  daily  duteous  toil  the  road, 
That  leads  to  perfect  peace  in  God  : 


Day  and  Night  269 

Peace,  through  the  grace  of  Christ  our  Lord  ; 

Rest,  in  the  Father's  love  restor'd  ; 

Joy,  by  the  Spirit's  union  given  ; 

The  peace,  the  rest,  the  joy  of  Heaven  ! 

James  Ford.  1856. 

CCLTV. 

Evening. 

The  day,  O  Lord,  is  spent ; 
Abide  with  us,  and  rest ; 
Our  hearts'  desires  are  fully  bent 
On  making  Thee  our  guest. 

We  have  not  reach'd  that  land. 
That  happy  land,  as  yet. 
Where  holy  angels  round  Thee  stand, 
Whose  sun  can  never  set. 

Our  sun  is  sinking  now  ; 
Our  day  is  almost  o'er  : 
O  Sun  of  Righteousness,  do  Thou 
Shine  on  us  evermore  ! 

John  Mason  Nea/e.   1854. 


CCLV. 
Evening. 

Behold  the  sun,  that  seem'd  but  now 

Enthroned  overhead, 
Beginneth  to  decline  below 

The  globe  whereon  we  tread  ; 
And  he,  whom  yet  we  look  upon 

With  comfort  and  delight, 
Will  quite  depart  from  hence  anon, 

And  leave  us  to  the  night. 


270  The  Book  of  Praise. 

Thus  time,  unheeded,  steals  away 

The  life  which  nature  gave  ; 
Thus  are  our  bodies  every  day 

Declining  to  the  grave  : 
Thus  from  us  all  our  pleasures  fly 

Whereon  we  set  our  heart ; 
And  when  the  night  of  death  draws  nigh, 

Thus  will  they  all  depart. 

Lord  !  though  the  sun  forsake  our  sight, 

And  mortal  hopes  are  vain  ; 
Let  still  Thine  everlasting  light 

Within  our  souls  remain  ! 
And  in  the  nights  of  our  distress 

Vouchsafe  those  rays  divine. 
Which  from  the  Sun  of  Righteousness 

For  ever  brightly  shine  ! 

George  Wither.   1641. 

CCLVI. 

Evening. 

Accept,  my  God,  my  evening  song, 
Like  incense  let  it  fragrant  rise  ; 

Stir  up  my  heart,  and  tune  my  tongue, 
And  let  the  music  reach  the  skies. 

Thou  hast  my  kind  protector  been 
Through  all  the  dangers  of  the  day  ; 

My  guardian  to  defend  from  sin. 
My  guide  to  choose  me  out  my  way. 

The  flowing  spring  of  all  my  good, 
Still  pouring  blessings  from  on  high  ; 

Thine  hand  hath  dealt  me  out  my  food, 
For  every  want  a  kind  supply. 


271 


Day  and  Night. 

Unceasing,  Lord,  Thy  bounty  flow'd  ; 

Each  moment  brought  me  m  fresh  aid  ; 
But  what  returns  of  love  to  God 

Have  I  for  all  His  kindness  made  ? 

What  have  I  done  for  Him  that  died 
To  save  my  soul  from  endless  woe  ? 

How  much  have  I  His  patience  tried 
From  whom  all  my  enjoyments  flow  ! 

Fast  as  my  flying  minutes  pass. 
My  faults  augment  the  former  sum  ! 

Forgive  the  past,  and  by  Thy  grace 
Prevent  the  like  for  time  to  come  ! 

Dear  Saviour,  to  Thy  cross  I'll  fly, 
And  there  my  guilty  head  reclme, 

And  my  whole  soul,  that  sm  may  die, 
Yield  up  to  influence  divine  ! 

Then,  sprinkled  with  atoning  blood, 
I'll  lay  me  down  and  take  my  rest, 
Trust  the  protection  of  my  God, 

And  sleep  as  on  my  Saviour's  breast. 

Variation  fro7n  Isaac  Watts.  1709. 
Bv  Simon  Browne.  1 720. 


CCLVII. 

Evening. 
All  praise  to  Thee,  my  God,  this  night, 
For  all  the  blessings  of  the  light ; 
Keep  me,  oh  keep  me,  King  of  kings, 
Beneath  Thine  own  Almighty  wings  ! 


272  The  Book  of  Praise. 

Forgive  me,  Lord,  for  Thy  dear  Son, 
The  ill  that  I  this  day  have  done  ; 
That  with  the  world,  myself,  and  Thee, 
I,  ere  I  sleep,  at  peace  may  be. 

Teach  me  to  live,  that  I  may  dread 
The  grave  as  little  as  my  bed  ! 
To  die,  that  this  vile  body  may 
Rise  glorious  at  the  awful  day  ! 

O  may  my  soul  on  Thee  repose  ; 
And  may  sweet  sleep  mine  eyelids  close 
Sleep,  that  may  me  more  vig'rous  make 
To  serve  my  God  when  I  awake  ! 


When  in  the  night  I  sleepless  lie, 
My  soul  with  heavenly  thoughts  supply ! 
Let  no  ill  dreams  disturb  my  rest, 
No  powers  of  darkness  me  molest ! 

Dull  sleep,  of  sense  me  to  deprive  ! 
I  am  but  half  my  time  alive : 
Thy  faithful  lovers,  Lord,  are  griev'd 
To  lie  so  long  of  Thee  bereav'd. 

But  though  sleep  o'er  my  frailty  reigns, 
Let  it  not  hold  me  long  in  chains  ! 
And  now  and  then  let  loose  my  heart, 
Till  it  an  hallelujah  dart  ! 

The  faster  sleep  the  senses  binds. 
The  more  unfetter'd  are  our  minds  ; 
O  may  my  soul,  from  matter  free. 
Thy  loveliness  unclouded  see  ! 


Day  and  Night.  273 

O  when  shall  I,  in  endless  day, 
For  ever  chase  dark  sleep  away, 
And  hymns  with  the  supernal  choir 
Incessant  sing,  and  never  tire  ? 

O  may  my  Guardian,  while  I  sleep. 
Close  to  my  bed  his  vigils  keep  ; 
His  love  angelical  instil ; 
Stop  all  the  avenues  of  ill : 

May  he  celestial  joy  rehearse, 
And  thought  to  thought  with  me  converse  ; 
Or  in  my  stead,  all  the  night  long, 
Sing  to  my  God  a  grateful  song  ! 

Praise  God,  from  whom  all  blessings  flow. 
Praise  Him,  all  creatures  here  below  ! 
Praise  Him  above,  ye  heavenly  host ! 
Praise  Father,  Son,  and  Holy  Ghost  ! 

Bishop  Thomas  Ken,   1697 — 1709, 


CCLVIII. 

Evening. 

O  Lord,  another  day  is  flown  ; 

And  we,  a  lonely  band. 
Are  met  once  more  before  Thy  throne 

To  bless  Thy  fostering  hand. 

And  wilt  Thou  lend  a  listening  ear 

To  praises  low  as  ours  ? 
Thou  wilt !  for  Thou  dost  love  to  hear 

The  song  which  meekness  pours. 

And,  Jesus,  Thou  Thy  smiles  wilt  deign 

As  we  before  Thee  pray  ; 
For  Thou  didst  bless  the  infant  train. 

And  we  are  less  than  they. 
T 


274  The  Book  of  Praise. 

O  let  Thy  grace  perform  its  part, 

And  let  contention  cease  ; 
And  shed  abroad  in  every  heart 

Thine  everlasting  peace ! 

Thus  chastened,  cleansed,  entirely  Thine, 

A  flock  by  Jesus  led, 
The  Sun  of  holiness  shall  shine 

In  glory  on  our  head. 

And  Thou  wilt  turn  our  wandering  feet. 
And  Thou  wilt  bless  our  way. 

Till  worlds  shall  fade,  and  faith  shall  greet 
The  dawn  of  lasting  day  ! 

Hejiry  Kirkc  White.  1803. 


CCLIX. 

Evening. 

Sun  of  my  soul.  Thou  Saviour  dear, 
It  is  not  night  if  thou  be  near  ; 
Oh  !  may  no  earth-born  cloud  arise 
To  hide  Thee  from  Thy  servant's  eyes  ! 

When  round  Thy  wondrous  works  below 
My  searching  rapturous  glance  I  throw. 
Tracing  out  wisdom,  power,  and  love, 
In  earth  or  sky,  in  stream  or  grove  ; 

Or,  by  the  light  Thy  words  disclose, 
Watch  time's  full  river  as  it  flows. 
Scanning  Thy  gracious  Providence, 
Where  not  too  deep  for  mortal  sense  ; 

When  with  dear  friends  sweet  talk  I  hold. 
And  all  the  flowers  of  life  unfold  ; 
Let  not  my  heart  within  me  burn, 
Except  in  all  I  Thee  discern  ! 


Day  and  Night.  275 

When  the  soft  dews  of  kindly  sleep 
My  wearied  eyelids  gently  steep, 
Be  my  last  thought,  how  sweet  to  rest 
For  ever  on  my  Saviour's  breast  ! 

Abide  with  me  from  morn  till  eve, 
For  without  Thee  I  cannot  live  ! 
Abide  with  me  when  night  is  nigh, 
For  without  Thee  I  dare  not  die  ! 


I'hou  Framer  of  the  light  and  dark, 
Steer  through  the  tempest  Thine  own  ark  ! 
Amid  the  howling  wintry  sea 
We  arc  in  port  if  we  have  Thee. 

The  rulers  of  this  Christian  land, 
'Twixt  Thee  and  us  ordain'd  to  stand, 
Guide  Thou  their  course,  O  Lord,  aright ! 
Let  all  do  all  as  in  Thy  sight  ! 

Oh  !  by  Thine  own  sad  burthen,  borne 
So  meekly  up  the  hill  of  scorn, 
Teach  Thou  Thy  priests  their  daily  cross, 
To  bear  as  Thine,  nor  count  it  loss ! 

If  some  poor  wandering  child  of  Thine 
Have  spurn'd,  to-day,  the  voice  divine  ; 
Now,  Lord,  the  gracious  work  begin  ; 
Let  him  no  more  lie  down  in  sin  ! 

Watch  by  the  sick,  enrich  the  poor 
With  blessings  from  Thy  boundless  store  1 
Be  every  mourner's  sleep  to-night 
Like  infant's  slumbers,  pure  and  light ! 
T  2 


276  The  Book  of  P7^aise. 

Come  near  and  bless  us  when  we  wake, 
Ere  through  the  world  our  way  we  take  : 
Till,  in  the  ocean  of  Thy  love, 
We  lose  ourselves  in  Heaven  above  ! 

John  Keble.  1827. 


CCLX. 

Night, 

Hear  my  prayer,  O  heavenly  Father, 

Ere  I  lay  me  down  to  sleep  : 
Bid  Thy  angels,  pure  and  holy, 

Round  my  bed  their  vigil  keep. 

My  sins  are  heavy,  but  Thy  mercy 

Far  outweighs  them  every  one  ; 
Down  before  Thy  cross  I  cast  them, 

Trusting  in  Thy  help  alone. 

Keep  me,  through  this  night  of  peril. 
Underneath  its  boundless  shade  ; 

Take  me  to  Thy  rest,  I  pray  Thee, 
When  my  pilgrimage  is  made  ! 

None  shall  measure  out  Thy  patience 

By  the  span  of  human  thought ; 
None  shall  bound  the  tender  mercies 

Which  Thy  Holy  Son  hath  bought. 

Pardon  all  my  past  transgressions  ; 

Give  me  strength  for  days  to  come  ; 
Guide  and  guard  me  with  Thy  blessing, 

Till  Thine  angels  bid  me  home  ! 

Harriett  Parr.   1856. 


Day  and  Night,  277 


CCLXI. 
Night  ' 

God,  that  madest  earth  and  heaven, 

Darkness  and  hght ; 
Who  the  day  for  toil  hast  given, 

For  rest  the  night  ; 
May  Thine  angel  guards  defend  us ! 
Slumber  sweet  Thy  mercy  send  us  ! 
Holy  dreams  and  hopes  attend  us, 

This  live-long  night  ! 

Bishop  Reginald  Hcber.  1827. 


CCLXII. 

Night. 

Through  the  day  Thy  love  hath  spared  us  : 

Now  we  lay  us  down  to  rest ; 
Through  the  silent  watches  guard  us  ! 

Let  no  foe  our  peace  molest ! 
Jesus,  Thou  our  Guardian  be  ! 
Sweet  it  is  to  trust  in  Thee. 


Pilgrims  here  on  earth,  and  strangers  ; 

Dwelling  in  the  midst  of  foes  : 
Us  and  ours  preserve  from  dangers 

In  Thine  arms  may  we  repose  ! 
And,  when  life's  sad  day  is  past 
Rest  with  Thee  in  Heaven  at  last  ! 

Thomas  Kelly.  1806. 


278  The  Book  of  Praise. 

CCLXIII. 

Night. 

All  praise  to  Him  who  dwells  in  bliss, 
Who  made  both  day  and  night ; 

Whose  throne  is  darkness,  in  th'  abyss 
Of  uncreated  light  ! 

Each  thought  and  deed  His  piercing  eyes 
With  strictest  search  survey  ; 

The  deepest  shades  no  more  disguise 
Than  the  full  blaze  of  day. 

Whom  Thou  dost  guard,  O  King  of  kings, 

No  evil  shall  molest : 
Under  the  shadow  of  Thy  wings 

Shall  they  securely  rest. 

Thy  angels  shall  around  their  beds 
Their  constant  stations  keep  ; 

Thy  faith  and  truth  shall  shield  their  heads. 
For  Thou  dost  never  sleep. 

May  we,  with  calm  and  sweet  repose, 
And  heavenly  thoughts  refresh'd, 

Our  eyelids  with  the  morn  unclose, 
And  bless  the  Ever-bless'd  ! 

Charles  Wesley.  1741. 

CCLXTV. 

Night 

Interval  of  grateful  shade, 
Welcome  to  my  weary  head  : 
Welcome  slumber  to  mine  eyes, 
Tired  with  glaring  vanities. 


Day  and  Night.  279 

My  great  Master  still  allows 
Needful  periods  of  repose  ; 
By  my  Heavenly  Father  blest, 
Thus  I  give  my  powers  to  rest. 

Heavenly  Father  !  gracious  Name  ! 
Night  and  day  His  love  the  same  ! 
Far  be  each  suspicious  thought, 
Every  anxious  care  forgot. 

Thou,  my  ever  bounteous  God, 
Crov/n'st  my  days  with  various  good  ; 
Thy  kind  eye,  that  cannot  sleep. 
These  defenceless  hours  shall  keep. 

What  though  downy  slumbers  flee, 
Strangers  to  my  couch  and  me  ? 
Sleepless,  well  I  know  to  rest, 
Lodged  within  my  Father's  breast. 

While  the  empress  of  the  night 
Scatters  mild  her  silver  light. 
While  the  vivid  planets  stray 
Various  through  their  mystic  way, 

While  the  stars  unnumbered  roll 
Round  the  ever  constant  pole. 
Far  above  these  spangled  skies 
All  my  soul  to  God  shall  rise. 

Mid  the  silence  of  the  night 
Mingling  with  those  angels  bright. 
Whose  harmonious  voices  raise 
Ceaseless  love  and  ceaseless  praise. 


28o  The  Book  of  Pi'aise. 

Through  the  throng  His  gentle  ear 
Shall  my  tuneless  accents  hear  ; 
From  on  high  doth  He  impart 
Secret  comfort  to  my  heart. 

He  in  these  serenest  hours 
Guides  my  intellectual  powers, 
And  His  Spirit  doth  diffuse, 
Sweeter  far  than  midnight  dews, 

Lifting  all  my  thoughts  above 
On  the  wings  of  faith  and  love  : 
Blest  alternative  to  me, 
Thus  to  sleep,  or  wake  with  Thee  ! 

What  if  death  my  sleep  invade  ? 
Should  I  be  of  death  afraid  ? 
Whilst  encircled  by  Thine  arm, 
Death  may  strike,  but  cannot  harm. 

What  if  beams  of  opening  day 
Shine  around  my  breathless  clay  ? 
Brighter  visions  from  on  high 
Shall  regale  my  mental  eye. 

Tender  friends  awhile  may  mourn 
Me  from  their  embraces  torn  ; 
Dearer,  better  friends  I  have 
In  the  realms  beyond  the  grave. 

See  the  guardian  angels  nigh 
Wait  to  waft  my  soul  on  high  ! 
See  the  golden  gates  displayed  ! 
See  the  crown  to  grace  my  head  ! 


Day  a7id  Night.  281 

See  a  flood  of  sacred  light, 
Which  no  more  shall  yield  to  night ! 
Transitory  world,  farewell ! 
Jesus  calls,  with  Him  to  dwell ! 

With  Thy  heavenly  presence  blest, 
Death  is  life,  and  labour  rest ; 
Welcome  sleep  or  death  to  mc, 
Still  secure,  for  still  with  Thee  ! 

Philip  Doddridge.  1755. 


CCLXV. 

Midnight. 

My  God,  now  I  from  sleep  awake, 

The  sole  possession  of  me  take  ; 

From  midnight  terrors  me  secure, 

And  guard  my  heart  from  thoughts  impure 


Bless'd  angels  !  while  we  silent  lie. 
You  hallelujahs  sing  on  high  ; 
You  joyful  hymn  the  Ever-blest 
Before  the  Throne,  and  never  rest. 

I  with  your  choir  celestial  join 
In  offering  up  a  hymn  divine  ; 
With  you  in  Heaven  I  hope  to  dwell, 
And  bid  the  night  and  world  farewell. 

My  soul,  when  I  shake  off  this  dust, 
Lord,  in  Thy  arms  I  will  entrust : 
O  make  me  Thy  peculiar  care  ; 
Some  mansion  for  my  soul  prepare  ! 


582  The  Book  of  Praise. 

Give  me  a  place  at  Thy  saints'  feet, 
Or  some  falln  aPxgel's  vacant  seat ! 
I'll  strive  to  sing  as  loud  as  they, 
Who  sit  above  in  brighter  day. 

O  may  I  always  ready  stand 
With  my  lamp  burning  in  m.y  hand  : 
May  I  in  sight  of  Heaven  rejoice, 
Whene'er  I  hear  the  Bridegroom's  voice  ! 

All  praise  to  Thee  in  light  arra/d. 
Who  hght  Thy  dwelling-place  hast  made  ; 
A  boundless  ocean  of  bright  beams 
From  Thy  all-glorious  Godhead  streams. 

The  Sun  in  its  meridian  height 
Is  very  darkness  in  Thy  sight  ! 
My  soul  O  lighten  and  inflame, 
With  thought  and  love  of  Thy  great  Name  ! 

Bless'd  Jesu,  Thou,  on  Heaven  intent. 
Whole  nights  hast  in  devotion  spent  ; 
But  I,  frail  creature,  soon  am  tired, 
And  all  my  zeal  is  soon  expired. 

My  soul,  how  canst  thou  weary  grow 
Of  antedating  bliss  below, 
In  sacred  hymns,  and  heavenly  love. 
Which  will  eternal  be  above  ? 

Shine  on  me,  Lord,  new  life  impart ! 
Fresh  ardours  kindle  in  my  heart ! 
One  ray  of  Thy  all-quickening  light 
Dispels  the  sloth  and  clouds  of  night. 

Lord,  lest  the  tempter  me  surprise. 
Watch  over  Thine  ov/n  sacrifice  ! 


Day  and  Night.  283 

All  loose,  all  idle  thoughts  cast  out, 
And  make  my  very  dreams  devout  ! 

Praise  God  from  whom  all  blessings  flow. 
Praise  Him,  all  creatures  here  below  ! 
Praise  Him  above,  ye  heavenly  host ; 
Praise  Father,  Son,  and  Holy  Ghost ! 

Bishop  Thovias  Ken.   1697 — 1709. 


CCLXVI. 

Midnight. 

Awake,  my  soul,  awake  to  prayer  ; 
Thy  vigil  of  the  night  prepare  : 
Now  all  around  is  dark  and  still, 
Angels  defending  us  from  ill. 

The  time  to  sacred  thought  is  dear, 
When  Thou  alone,  good  Lord,  art  near  ; 
Hush'd  is  the  world's  external  din. 
That  we  may  hear  Thy  voice  within. 

It  seems  to  plead  with  gentle  breath  ; 
"  Sad  child  of  frailty,  heir  of  death, 
"  Its  rest  thy  wearied  body  knows  ; 
"  O  !  let  thy  soul  on  Me  repose  ! 

"  I  came  to  suffer  in  thy  stead  ; 
"  I  had  not  Avhere  to  lay  My  head  : 
"  Think  on  the  love,  that  could  provide 
"  Blessings  for  man,  to  God  denied  ! " 

Thus  silent  hours  of  darkness  prove 
Remembrancers  of  Jesu's  love  ; 
While  constancy  in  prayer  we  learn 
From  each  succeeding  night's  return. 


284  The  Book  of  Praise. 

Day  without  night  the  Angels  sing, 
Nor  rest  upon  the  drooping  wing  ; 
Teaching  our  souls  betimes  to  ascend, 
Where  hallelujahs  never  end. 

David  awaked  his  harp  and  voice, 
And  all  within  him,  to  rejoice, 
God's  love  to  praise  at  morning  light, 
And  tell  of  all  His  truth  at  night 

Jacob  in  prayer  nocturnal  strove  ; 

No  stern  repulse  his  prayer  could  move  : 

In  vain  the  Angel-man  did  say, 

"  Dismiss  Me  ;  for  'tis  break  of  day  ! " 

See  how,  in  galling  fetters  laid, 
At  midnight  Paul  and  Silas  pray'd  ; 
Their  gory  wounds  still  smarting  sore, 
And  cold  the  prison's  rugged  floor. 

They  sang  the  praises  of  the  Lord  ; 
So  loud  they  sang,  the  prisoners  heard : 
And  yet  they  thought  that  death  was  nigh  ; 
And  clouds  obscured  their  morning  sky. 

How  shall  I  then  Thy  praise  decline, 
When  health,  and  friends,  and  home  are  mine  ? 
My  dawn  of  day  is  clear  and  calm  ; 
No  foes  oppress,  no  fears  alarm. 

Are  these  Thy  mercies,  Lord,  to  me  ? 
O  !  let  me  then  Thy  servant  be  ! 
Submitting  to  Thy  just  control, 
And  loving  Thee  with  all  my  soul. 


Day  and  Night,  285 

So  shall  I  find  Thee  strong  to  save. 
When  my  last  bed  shall  be  the  grave  ; 
The  Grave  shall  own  my  Saviour's  might, 
And  darkness  vanish  at  Thy  sight ! 

Only  my  soul  must  now  awake 
From  sleep  of  sin,  for  Thy  dear  sake  ! 
And  then  my  body  shall  arise 
From  sleep  of  death  to  yonder  skies. 

'Tis  there  I  hope  Thy  Face  to  see, 
The  crown  of  all  felicity  ; 
'Tis  there  I  hope  that  rest  to  gain, 
Which  here  I  seek,  but  seek  in  vain. 

As  endless  ages  roll  along, 
Endless  shall  be  my  grateful  song  : 
And  Heaven  itself  shall  pass  away, 
Before  I  cease  my  vows  to  pay. 

Glory  to  God,  who  Israel  keeps, 
Who  never  slumbers,  never  sleeps  ! 
Almighty  Power  no  weakness  knows  ; 
Unwearied  Love  asks  no  repose. 

And  now,  my  midnight  musings  o'er, 
Thy  wonted  mercies.  Lord,  restore  : 
Let  sleep  again  my  eyelids  fill. 
And  Angels  guard  my  soul  from  ill. 

Praise  to  the  Father,  and  the  Son, 
And  th'  Holy  Ghost,  Bless'd  Three  in  One  ! 
Praise  to  the  Lord,  our  God,  be  giv'n 
By  all  on  earth,  by  all  in  heaven  ! 

James  Ford.  1856, 


286  The  Book  of  Praise. 

II. 

SEED  TIME  AND  HARVEST. 

CCLXVII. 

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  vigour  shine, 
To  raise  the  corn,  and  cheer  the  vine. 

Thy  hand  in  autumn  richly  pours 
Through  all  our  coasts  redundant  stores, 
And  winters,  soften'd  by  Thy  care. 
No  more  a  face  of  horror  wear. 

Seasons  and  months  and  weeks  and  days 
Demand  successive  songs  of  praise  ; 
Still  be  the  cheerful  homage  paid 
With  opening  light  and  evening  shade  ! 

Oh  !  may  our  more  harmonious  tongues 
In  worlds  unknown  pursue  the  songs  ; 
And  in  those  brighter  courts  adore, 
Where  days  and  years  revolve  no  more  1 

Philip  Doddridge.  1755 


cCLXvrii. 

Fountain  of  mercy  !  God  of  love  ! 

How  rich  Thy  bounties  are  ! 
The  rolHng  seasons,  as  they  move, 

Proclaim  Thy  constant  care. 


Seed  Tifue  and  Harvest.  287 

When  in  the  bosom  of  the  earth 

The  sower  hid  the  grain, 
Thy  goodness  mark'd  its  secret  birth, 

And  sent  the  early  rain. 

The  spring's  sweet  influence  was  Thine, 

The  plants  in  beauty  grew  ; 
Thou  gav'st  refulgent  suns  to  shine, 

And  mild  refreshing  dew. 

These  various  mercies  from  above, 

Matur'd  the  swelling  grain  ; 
A  yellow  harvest  crowns  Thy  love, 

And  plenty  fills  the  plain. 

Seed-time  and  harvest,  Lord,  alone 

Thou  dost  on  man  bestow  ; 
Let  him  not  then  forget  to  own 

From  whom  his  blessings  flow  ! 

Fountain  of  love  !  our  praise  is  Thine  ; 

To  Thee  our  songs  we'll  raise. 
And  all  created  Nature  join 

In  sweet  harmonious  praise  ! 

A nne  Floiuodcw.  1 8 1 1. 


CCLXIX. 

Lord,  in  Thy  Name  Thy  servants  plead, 
And  Thou  hast  sworn  to  hear  ; 

Thine  is  the  harvest,  Thine  the  seed, 
The  fresh  and  fading  year. 

Our  hope,  when  autumn  winds  blew  wild, 
We  trusted.  Lord,  with  Thee  ; 

And  now,  that  spring  has  on  us  smiled, 
We  wait  on  Thy  decree. 


288  The  Book  of  Praise. 

The  former  and  the  latter  rain, 

The  summer  sun  and  air, 
The  green  ear,  and  the  golden  grain, 

All  Thine,  are  ours  by  prayer. 

Thine  too  by  right,  and  ours  by  grace. 
The  wondrous  growth  unseen. 

The  hopes  that  soothe,  the  fears  that  brace. 
The  love  that  shines  serene  ! 

So  grant  the  precious  things  brought  forth 

By  sun  and  moon  below. 
That  Thee,  in  Thy  new  heaven  and  earth, 

We  never  may  forego  ! 

To  Father,  Son,  and  Holy  Ghost, 

The  God  whom  we  adore. 
Be  glory,  as  it  was,  is  now, 
And  shall  be  evermore  ! 

Amen ! 

JohuKeble.  1857. 


CCLXX. 

Praise,  O  praise  our  God  and  King, 

Hymns  Of  adoration  sing, 

For  His  mercies  still  endure, 
Ever  faithful,  ever  sure. 

Praise  Him  that  He  made  the  sun 
Day  by  day  his  course  to  run, 
For  His  mercies  still  endure. 
Ever  faithful,  ever  sure : 

And  the  silver  moon  by  night. 
Shining  with  her  gentle  light, 
For  His  mercies  still  endure, 
Ever  faithful,  ever  sure. 


Seed  Time  and  Harvest  289 

Praise  Him  that  He  gave  the  rain 
To  mature  the  sweUing  grain, 

For  His  mercies  still  endure, 

Ever  faithful,  ever  sure  : 

And  hath  bid  the  fruitful  field 
Crops  of  precious  increase  yield  ; 

For  His  mercies  still  endure, 

Ever  faithful,  ever  sure. 

Praise  Him  for  our  harvest-store  ; 
He  hath  fiU'd  the  garner-floor  ; 

For  His  mercies  still  endure, 

Ever  faithful,  ever  sure  : 

And  for  richer  food  than  this, 
Pledge  of  everlasting  bliss  ; 

For  His  mercies  still  endure, 

Ever  faithful,  ever  sure. 

Glory  to  our  bounteous  King  ! 

Glory  let  Creation  sing  ! 

Glory  to  the  Father,  Son, 

And  blest  Spirit,  Three  in  One  ! 

Sir  Henry  Baker.  1 861. 


CCLXXT. 

Praise  to  God,  immortal  praise, 
For  the  love  that  crowns  our  days  ! 
Bounteous  source  of  every  joy, 
Let  Thy  praise  our  tongues  employ. 

For  the  blessings  of  the  field, 
For  the  stores  the  gardens  yield  ; 
For  the  vine's  exalted  juice, 
For  the  generous  olive's  use : 
u 


290  The  Book  of  Praise. 

Flocks  that  whiten  all  the  plain  ; 
Yellow  sheaves  of  ripen'd  grain  ; 
Clouds  that  drop  their  fattening  dews  ; 
Suns  that  temperate  warmth  diffuse  : 

All  that  Spring  with  bounteous  hand 
Scatters  o'er  the  smiling  land  ; 
All  that  liberal  Autumn  pours 
From  her  rich  o'erflowing  stores  : 

These  to  Thee,  my  God,  we  owe, 
Source  whence  all  our  blessings  flow  ; 
And  for  these  my  soul  shall  raise 
Grateful  vows  and  solemn  praise. 

Yet,  should  rising  vrhirlwinds  tcr.r 
From  its  stem  the  ripening  ear  ; 
Should  the  fig-tree's  blasted  shoot 
Drop  her  green  untimely  fruit ; 

Should  the  vine  put  forth  no  more, 
Nor  the  olive  yield  her  store  ; 
Though  the  sickening  flocks  should  fall, 
And  the  herds  desert  the  stall ; 

Should  Thine  alter'd  hand  restrain 
The  early  and  the  latter  rain  ; 
Blast  each  opening  bud  of  joy. 
And  the  rising  year  destroy  ; 

Yet  to  Thee  my  soul  should  raise 
Grateful  vows  and  solemn  praise  ; 
And,  when  every  blessing's  flown. 
Love  Thee  for  Thyself  alone  ! 

Anna  Lcstitia  Barba^tid.   1773. 


Seed  Time  aiid Har^'est.  291 


CCLXXII. 

Lord  of  the  harvest !  Thee  we  hail ; 
Thine  ancient  promise  doth  not  fail ; 
The  varying  seasons  haste  their  round, 
With  goodness  all  our  years  are  crown'd  ; 

Our  thanks  we  pay 

This  holy  day  ; 
O  let  our  hearts  in  tune  be  found  ! 

If  Spring  doth  wake  the  song  of  mirth 
If  Summer  warms  the  fruitful  earth  ; 
When  Winter  sweeps  the  naked  plain. 
Or  Autumn  yields  its  ripen'd  grain  ; 

Still  do  we  sing 

To  Thee,  our  King  ; 
Through  all  their  changes  Thou  dost  reign. 

But  chiefly  when  Thy  liberal  hand 
Scatters  new  plenty  o'er  the  land. 
When  sounds  of  music  fill  the  air, 
As  homeward  all  their  treasures  bear  ; 

We  too  will  raise 

Our  hymn  of  praise, 
For  we  Thy  common  bounties  share. 

Lord  of  the  harvest !  all  is  Thine  ! 
The  rains  that  fall,  the  suns  that  shine, 
The  seed  once  hidden  in  the  ground, 
The  skill  that  makes  our  fruits  abound  ! 
New,  every  year, 
Thy  gifts  appear  ; 
New  praises  from  our  lips  shall  sound  ! 

John  Hampden  Gurney.    1 838 —  1 85 1 . 
U  2 


292  The  Book  of  Praise. 


CCLXXIII, 

Lord  of  the  harvest !  once  again 
We  thank  Thee  for  the  ripen'd  grain  ; 
For  crops  safe  carried,  sent  to  cheer 
Thy  servants  through  another  year  ; 
For  all  sweet  holy  thoughts  supplied 
By  seed-time,  and  by  harvest-tide. 

The  bare  dead  grain,  in  autumn  sown, 
Its  robe  of  vernal  green  puts  on  ; 
Glad  from  its  wintry  grave  it  springs. 
Fresh  garnish'd  by  the  King  of  kings  : 
So,  Lord,  to  those  who  sleep  in  Thee 
Shall  new  and  glorious  bodies  be. 

Nor  vainly  of  Thy  Word  we  ask 
A  lesson  from  the  reaper's  task  ; 
So  shall  Thine  angels  issue  forth  ; 
The  tares  be  burnt ;  the  just  of  earth, 
Playthings  of  sun  and  storm  no  more. 
Be  gather'd  to  their  Father's  store. 

Daily,  O  Lord,  our  prayers  be  said. 
As  Thou  hast  taught,  for  daily  bread  ; 
But  not  alone  our  bodies  feed  ; 
Supply  our  fainting  spirits'  need  ! 
O  Bread  of  Life  !  from  day  to  day. 
Be  Thou  their  Comfort,  Food,  and  Stay  ! 

Joseph  Anstice.  [1836.] 

CCLXXIV. 

Come,  ye  thankful  people,  come, 
Raise  the  song  of  Harvest-Home  ! 
All  is  safely  gather'd  in, 
Ere  the  winter-storms  begin  ; 


Seed  Time  and  Harvest.  293 

God,  our  Maker,  doth  provide 
P^or  our  wants  to  be  supplied  ; 
Come  to  God's  own  temple,  come. 
Raise  the  song  of  Harvest-Home  ! 

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  ! 

For  the  Lord  our  God  shall  come, 
And  shall  take  LI  is  harvest  home  ! 
From  His  field  shall  purge  away 
All  that  doth  offend,  that  day  ; 
Give  His  Angels  charge  at  last 
In  the  fire  the  tares  to  cast. 
But  the  fruitful  ears  to  store 
In  His  garner  evermore. 

Then,  thou  Church  triumphant,  come. 

Raise  the  song  of  Harvest-Home  ! 

All  are  safely  gather'd  in, 

Free  from  sorrow,  free  from  sin  ; 

There  for  ever  purified. 

In  God's  garner  to  abide  : 

Come,  ten  thousand  Angels,  come. 

Raise  the  glorious  Harvest-Home  ! 

Heuf-y  A /ford.  1845. 


294  The  Book  of  Praise. 


III. 
THE  OLD  AND  NEW  YEAR. 

CCLXXV. 

Another  year  hath  fled  ;  renew, 

Lord,  with  our  days  Thy  love  ! 
Our  days  are  evil  here  and  few  ; 

We  look  to  live  above  : 
We  will  not  grieve,  though  day  by  day 
We  pass  from  earthly  joys  away  ; 

Our  joy  abides  in  Thee  ; 

Our  joy  abides  in  Thee  ! 

Yet,  when  our  sins  we  call  to  mind, 

We  cannot  fail  to  grieve  ; 
But  Thou  art  pitiful  and  kind, 

And  wilt  our  prayer  receive  : 
O  Jesu,  evermore  the  same, 
Our  hope  we  rest  upon  Thy  Name  ; 

Our  hope  abides  in  Thee  ; 

Our  hope  abides  in  Thee  ! 

For  all  the  future,  Lord,  prepare 

Our  souls  with  strength  Divine  ; 
Help  us  to  cast  on  Thee  our  care, 

And  on  Thy  servants  shine  : 
Life  without  Thee  is  dark  and  drear  ; 
Death  is  not  death  if  Thou  art  near  ; 

Our  life  abides  in  Thee  ; 

Our  life  abides  in  Thee  ! 

A  rth ur  Tozer  Russell,  1 85 1 . 


The  Old  and  Netu  Year.  295 


CCLXXVI. 

Harp,  awake  !  tell  out  the  story 

Of  our  love  and  joy  and  praise  ; 
Lute,  awake  !  awake  our  glory  ! 

Join  a  thankful  song  to  raise  ! 
Join  we,  brethren  faithful-hearted, 

Lift  the  solemn  voice  again 
O'er  another  year  departed 

Of  our  threescore  years  and  ten 

Lo  !  a  theme  for  deepest  sadness, 

In  ourselves  with  sin  defiled  ; 
Lo  !  a  theme  for  holiest  gladness. 

In  our  Father  reconciled  ! 
In  the  dust  we  bend  before  Thee, 

Lord  of  sinless  hosts  above  ; 
Yet  in  lowliest  joy  adore  Thee, 

God  of  mercy,  grace,  and  love  ! 


Gracious  Saviour  !  Thou  hast  lengthen'd 

And  hast  blest  our  mortal  span, 
And  in  our  weak  hearts  hast  strengthen'd 

What  Thy  grace  alone  began  ! 
Still,  when  danger  shall  betide  us, 

Be  Thy  warning  whisper  heard  ; 
Keep  us  at  Thy  feet,  and  guide  us 

By  Thy  Spirit  and  Thy  Word  ! 


Let  Thy  favour  and  Thy  blessing 
Crown  the  year  we  now  begin  ; 

Let  us  all.  Thy  strength  possessing. 
Grow  in  grace,  and  vanciuish  sin  ! 


296  The  Book  oj  Praise. 

Storms  are  round  us,  hearts  are  quailing, 
Signs  in  heaven  and  earth  and  sea  ; 

But,  when  heaven  and  earth  are  failing, 
Saviour  !  we  will  trust  in  Thee  ! 

Henry  Deiunfon.  [ 1 85 1 .] 

CCLXXVII. 

Awake,  ye  saints,  and  raise  your  eyes, 

And  raise  your  voices  high  ; 
Awake,  and  praise  that  sovereign  love 

That  shows  Salvation  nigh. 

On  all  the  wings  of  time  it  flies. 
Each  mq^nent  brings  it  near  ; 

Then  welcome  each  declining  day. 
Welcome  each  closing  year  ! 

Not  many  years  their  round  shall  run. 

Nor  many  mornings  rise, 
Ere  all  its  glories  stand  reveal'd 

To  our  admiring  eyes  ! 

Ye  wheels  of  nature,  speed  your  course  ! 

Ye  mortal  powers,  decay  ! 
Fast  as  ye  bring  the  night  of  death, 

Ye  bring  eternal  day  ! 

Ph  Hip  Doddridge.  1755. 

CCLXXVIII. 

While  with  ceaseless  course  the  sun 

Hasted  through  the  former  year. 
Many  souls  their  race  have  run, 

Never  more  to  meet  us  here  : 
Fix'd  in  an  eternal  state, 

They  have  done  with  all  belov/  ; 
We  a  little  longer  wait. 

But  how  little,  none  can  know. 


The  Old  and  New  Year.  297 

As  the  winged  arrow  flies 

Speedily  the  mark  to  find  ; 
As  the  hghtning  from  the  skies 

Darts,  and  leaves  no  trace  behind  ; 
Swiftly  thus  our  fleeting  days 

Bear  us  down  life's  rapid  stream  : 
Upward,  Lord  !  our  spirits  raise  ! 

All  below  is  but  a  dream. 

Thanks  for  mercies  past  receive  ; 

Pardon  of  our  sins  renew  ; 
Teach  us,  henceforth,  how  to  live 

With  eternity  in  view  : 
Bless  Thy  word  to  young  and  old  ; 

Fill  us  with  a  Saviour's  love  ; 
And,  when  life's  short  tale  is  told, 

May  we  dwell  with  Thee  above  ! 

John  Newton.  1779. 


CCLXXTX, 

For  Thy  mercy  and  Thy  grace, 
Faithful  through  another  year. 
Hear  our  song  of  thankfulness, 
Father,  and  Redeemer,  hear  ! 

In  our  weakness  and  distress. 
Rock  of  strength  !  be  Thou  our  stay  ! 
In  the  pathless  wilderness 
Be  our  true  and  living  way  ! 

Who  of  us  death's  awful  road 
In  the  coming  year  shall  tread  ? 
With  Thy  rod  and  staff,  O  God, 
Comfort  Thou  his  dying  head  ! 


igS  The  Book  of  Praise. 

Keep  us  faithful,  keep  us  pure, 
Keep  us  evermore  Thine  own  ! 
Help,  O  help  us  to  endure  i 
Fit  us  for  the  promised  crown  ! 

So  within  Thy  palace  gate 

We  shall  praise,  on  golden  strings, 

Thee,  the  only  Potentate, 

Lord  of  lords,  and  King  of  kings  ! 

Henry  Downton.  [  1 85 1 .] 


CCLXXX. 

To-morrow,  Lord,  is  Thine, 
Lodged  in  Thy  sovereign  hand, 
And,  if  its  sun  arise  and  shine, 
It  shines  by  Thy  command. 

The  present  moment  flies. 
And  bears  our  life  away  : 
O  make  Thy  servants  truly  wise, 
That  they  may  live  to-day  ! 

Since  on  this  winged  hour 
Eternity  is  hung. 
Waken  by  Thy  Almighty  pov/er 
The  aged  and  the  young  ! 

One  thing  demands  our  care  : 
O  !  be  it  still  pursued  ! 
Lest,  slighted  once,  the  season  fair 
Should  never  be  renew'd  ! 

To  Jesus  may  we  fly 
Swift  as  the  morning  light ; 
Lest  life's  young  golden  beams  should  die 
In  sudden  endless  night ! 

Philip  Dodchidge.  1755. 


Baptism  and  Childhood.  299 

IV. 

BAPTISM   AND   CHILDHOOD. 

CCLXXXI. 

God  of  that  glorious  gift  of  grace 
By  which  Thy  people  seek  Thy  face, 
When  in  Thy  presence  we  appear, 
Vouchsafe  us  faith  to  venture  near  ! 

Confiding  in  Thy  truth  alone. 
Here,  on  the  steps  of  Jesus'  throne. 
We  lay  the  treasure  Thou  hast  given 
To  be  received  and  rear'd  for  Heaven. 

Lent  to  us  for  a  season,  \ve 
Lend  him  for  ever,  Lord,  to  Thee  ! 
Assured,  that,  if  to  Thee  he  live, 
We  gain  in  what  we  seem  to  give. 

Large  and  abundant  blessings  shed. 
Warm  as  these  prayers,  upon  his  head  ! 
And  on  his  soul  the  dews  of  grace. 
Fresh  as  these  drops  upon  his  face  ! 

Make  him  and  keep  him  Thine  own  child, 
Meek  follower  of  the  Undefil'd  ! 
Possessor  here  of  grace  and  love  ; 
Inheritor  of  Heaven  above  ! 

Joh?i  S.  B.  Monscll.  1837. 

CCLXXXII. 

Lord  !  may  the  inward  grace  abound 
Through  Thine  appointed  outward  sign  ; 

A  milder  seal  than  Abraham  found 
Of  cov'nant  blessings  more  Divine  ; 


300  The  Book  of  Praise. 

Which  opens  glory  to  our  view 
Beyond  the  brightest  hope  he  knew  ! 

Type  of  the  Spirit's  hving  flow, 

In  faith  we  pour  the  hallow'd  stream  ; 

We  sign  the  cross  upon  the  brow, 
The  solemn  pledge  of  truth  to  Him, 

Who  shed  for  us  His  precious  Blood 

To  seal  the  covenant  of  God. 

Baptized  into  the  Trinity, 
Adopted  children  of  Thy  grace, 

O  help  us,  Lord,  to  live  to  Thee 
A  humble,  pure,  and  faithful  race  ! 

Instruct  us,  sanctify,  defend. 

And  crown  with  heavenly  life  our  end  ! 

Edwai'd  Osier.    1836. 


CCLXXXIII. 

In  token  that  thou  shalt  not  fear 
Christ  Crucified  to  own. 

We  print  the  cross  upon  thee  here, 
And  stamp  thee  His  alone. 

In  token  that  thou  shalt  not  blush 

To  glor}^  in  His  Name, 
We  blazon  here  upon  thy  front 

His  glory  and  His  shame. 

In  token  that  thou  shalt  not  flinch 
Christ's  quarrel  to  maintain, 

But  'neath  His  banner  manfully 
Firm  at  thy  post  remain  ; 


Baptisin  and  Childhood.  301 

In  token  that  thou  too  shalt  tread 

The  path  He  travell'd  by, 
Endure  the  cross,  despise  the  shame. 

And  sit  thee  down  on  high  ; 

Thus,  outwardly  and  visibly, 

We  seal  thee  for  His  own  : 
And  may  the  brow  that  wears  His  cross 

Hereafter  share  His  crown  ! 

Henry  Alford.  1845. 


CCLXXXIV. 

Sweet  baby,  sleep !  what  ails  my  dear, 
What  ails  my  darling  thus  to  cry  ? 

Be  still,  my  child,  and  lend  thine  ear, 
To  hear  me  sing  thy  lullaby. 

My  pretty  lamb,  forbear  to  weep  ; 

Be  still,  my  dear  ;  sweet  baby,  sleep. 

Thou  blessed  soul,  what  canst  thou  fear  ? 

What  thing  to  thee  can  mischief  do  ? 
Thy  God  is  now  thy  Father  dear. 

His  holy  Spouse,  thy  mother  too. 
Sweet  baby,  then  forbear  to  weep  ; 
Be  still,  my  babe  ;  sweet  baby,  sleep. 

Though  thy  conception  was  in  sin, 
A  sacred  bathing  thou  hast  had  ; 

And  though  thy  birth  unclean  hath  been, 
A  blameless  babe  thou  now  art  made. 

Sweet  baby,  then  forbear  to  weep  ; 

Be  still,  my  dear,  sweet  baby,  sleep. 


The  Book  of  Praise. 

While  thus  thy  lullaby  I  sing, 

For  thee  great  blessings  ripening  be  ; 

Thine  eldest  brother  is  a  king, 

And  hath  a  kingdom  bought  for  thee. 

Sweet  baby,  then  forbear  to  weep  ; 

Be  still,  my  babe  ;  sweet  baby,  sleep. 

Sweet  baby,  sleep,  and  nothing  fear  ; 

For  whosoever  thee  offends 
By  thy  protector  threaten'd  are, 

And  God  and  angels  are  thy  friends. 
Sweet  baby,  then  forbear  to  weep  ; 
Be  still,  my  babe  ;  sweet  baby,  sleep. 

When  God  with  us  was  dwelling  here. 
In  little  babes  He  took  delight  ; 

Such  innocents  as  thou,  my  dear, 
Are  ever  precious  in  His  sight. 

Sweet  baby,  then  forbear  to  \veep  ; 

Be  still,  my  babe  ;  sweet  baby,  sleep, 

A  little  infant  once  was  He  ; 

And  strength  in  weakness  then  was  laid 
Upon  His  virgin  mother's  knee. 

That  power  to  thee  might  be  convey'd. 
Sweet  baby,  then  forbear  to  weep  ; 
Be  still,  my  babe  ;  sweet  baby,  sleep. 

In  this  thy  frailty  and  thy  need 

He  friends  and  helpers  doth  prepare, 

Which  thee  shall  cherish,  clothe,  and  feed, 
For  of  thy  weal  they  tender  are. 

Sweet  baby,  then  forbear  to  weep  ; 

Be  still,  my  babe  ;  sweet  baby,  sleep. 


Baptism  a;id  Childhood.  30;; 

The  King  of  kings,  when  lie  was  born, 
Had  not  so  much  for  outward  ease  ; 

By  Him  such  dressings  were  not  worn, 
Nor  such-like  swaddhng-clothcs  as  these. 

Sweet  baby,  then  forbear  to  weep  ; 

Be  still,  my  babe  ;  sweet  baby,  sleep. 

Within  a  manger  lodged  thy  Lord, 

Where  oxen  lay,  and  asses  fed  : 
Warm  rooms  we  do  to  thee  afford, 

An  easy  cradle  or  a  bed. 
Sweet  baby,  then  forbear  to  weep  ; 
Be  still,  my  babe  ;  sweet  baby,  sleep. 

The  wants  that  He  did  then  sustain 

Have  purchased  wealth,  my  babe,  for  thee  ; 

And  by  His  torments  and  His  pain 
Thy  rest  and  ease  secured  be. 

My  baby,  then  forbear  to  Aveep  ; 

Be  still,  my  babe  ;  sweet  baby,  sleep. 

Thou  hast,  yet  more,  to  perfect  this, 

A  promise  and  an  earnest  got 
Of  gaining  everlasting  bliss, 

Though  thou,  my  babe,  perceiv'st  it  not  ; 
Sweet  baby,  then  forbear  to  weep  ; 
Be  still,  my  babe  ;  sweet  baby,  sleep. 

Gcori^c  Wither.  1641, 


CCLXXXV. 

Sleep  well,  my  dear  ;   sleep  safe  and  free 
The  holy  Angels  are  with  thcc. 
Who  always  see  thy  Father's  face. 
And  never  slumber,  nights  nor  days. 


304  The  Book  of  Pi^aise. 

Thou  liest  in  down,  soft  every  way  ; 
Thy  Saviour  lay  in  straw  and  hay  ; 
Thy  cradle  is  far  better  drest 
Than  the  hard  crib  where  He  did  rest. 

None  dare  disturb  thy  present  ease  ; 
He  had  a  thousand  enemies  ; 
Thou  liv'st  in  great  security  ; 
But  He  was  punish' d,  and  for  thee  ! 

God  make  thy  mother's  health  increase, 
To  see  thee  grow  in  strength  and  grace, 
In  wisdom  and  humility, 
As  infant  Jesus  did  for  thee  ! 

God  fill  thee  with  His  heavenly  light 
To  steer  thy  Christian  course  aright ; 
Make  thee  a  tree,  of  blessed  root, 
That  ever  bends  with  godly  fruit ! 

Sleep  now,  my  dear,  and  take  thy  rest ; 
And  if  with  riper  years  thou'rt  blest. 
Increase  in  wisdom,  day  and  night. 
Till  thou  attain' st  th'  eternal  Light  ! 

John  Christian  Jacobi.    1722. 
From  John  Christopher  Ruben. 


CCLXXXVI. 

O  Holy  Lord,  content  to  live 
In  a  poor  home,  a  lowly  child, 

And  in  subjection  meek  to  give 
Obedience  to  Thy  mother  mild  ; 

Lead  every  child  that  bears  Thy  Name 
To  Avalk  in  Thy  pure  upright  way, 

To  dread  the  touch  of  sin  and  shame, 
And  humbly,  like  Thyself,  obey  ! 


Baptism  and  Childhood.  305 

O  let  not  this  world's  scorching  glow 
Thy  Spirit's  quickening  dew  efface, 

Nor  blast  of  sin  too  rudely  blow, 
And  quench  the  trembling  flame  of  grace  i 

Gather  Thy  lambs  within  Thine  arm, 
And  gently  in  Thy  bosom  bear  ; 

Keep  them,  O  Lord,  from  hurt  and  harm, 
And  bid  them  rest  for  ever  there ! 

So  shall  they,  waiting  here  below, 
Like  Thee,  their  Lord,  a  little  span. 

In  wisdom  and  in  stature  grow. 
And  favour  both  with  God  and  man. 

William  Walsham  How.  [1854.] 

CCLXXXVII. 

Saviour,  who  Thy  flock  art  feeding 
With  the  Shepherd's  kindest  care. 

All  the  feeble  gently  leading, 

While  the  lambs  Thy  bosom  share  ; 

Now,  these  little  ones  receiving, 
Fold  them  in  Thy  gracious  arm  ; 

There,  we  know.  Thy  word  believing. 
Only  there,  secure  from  harm  ! 

Never,  from  Thy  pasture  roving. 

Let  them  be  the  lion's  prey  ; 
Let  Thy  tenderness  so  loving 

Keep  them  all  life's  dangerous  way  : 

Then,  within  Thy  fold  eternal. 

Let  them  find  a  resting-place, 
Feed  in  pastures  ever  vernal, 
Drink  the  rivers  of  Thy  grace  ! 

A7io?i.  [1832.] 
X 


The  Book  of  Praise. 


CCLXXXVIII. 


Lamb  of  God,  I  look  to  Thee  ; 
Thou  shalt  my  example  be  ; 
Thou  art  gentle,  meek,  and  mild  ; 
Thou  wast  once  a  little  child. 

Fain  I  would  be  as  Thou  art ; 
Give  me  Thy  obedient  heart  ! 
Thou  art  pitiful  and  kind  ; 
Let  me  have  Thy  loving  mind  ! 

Meek  and  lowly  may  I  be  ; 
Thou  art  all  humility  ! 
Let  me  to  my  betters  bow  ; 
Subject  to  Thy  parents  Thou. 

Let  me  above  all  fulfil 
God  my  heavenly  Father's  will ;   ^ 
Never  His  good  Spirit  grieve  ; 
Only  to  His  glory  live  ! 

Thou  didst  hve  to  God  alone  ; 
Thou  didst  never  seek  Thine  own  ; 
Thou  Thyself  didst  never  please  ; 
God  was  all  Thy  happiness. 

Loving  Jesu,  gentle  Lamb, 
In  Thy  gracious  hands  I  am  ; 
Make  me,  Saviour,  what  Thou  art  ! 
Live  Thyself  within  my  heart ! 

I  shall  then  shev/  forth  Thy  praise  ; 
Serve  Thee  all  my  happy  days  ; 
Then  the  world  shall  always  see 
Christ,  the  Holy  Child,  in  miC. 

Charles  Wesley.  174.0. 


Baptism  a7id  Childhood.  307 

CCLXXXIX. 

When  Jesus  left  His  Father's  throne, 

He  chose  an  humble  birth  ; 
Like  us,  unhonour  d  and  unknown, 

He  came  to  dwell  on  earth. 

Like  Him,  may  we  be  found  below 

In  wisdom's  paths  of  peace  ; 
Like  Him,  in  grace  and  knowledge  grow. 

As  years  and  strength  increase. 

Jesus  pass'd  by  the  rich  and  great 

For  men  of  low  degree  ; 
He  sanctified  our  parents'  state, 

For  poor  like  them  was  He. 

Sweet  were  His  words,  and  kind  His  lock, 
When  mothers  round  Him  press'd  ; 

Their  infants  in  His  arms  He  took. 
And  on  His  bosom  bless'd. 

Safe  from  the  world's  alluring  harms, 

Beneath  His  watchful  eye, 
Thus  in  the  circle  of  His  arms 

May  we  for  ever  lie  ! 

When  Jesus  into  Salem  rode, 

The  children  sang  around  ; 
For  joy  they  pluck'd  the  palms,  and  strow'd 

Their  garments  on  the  ground. 

Hosanna  our  glad  voices  raise, 

Hosanna  to  our  King  ! 
Should  we  forget  our  Saviour's  praise. 
The  stones  themselves  would  sing  ! 

James  Montgomery.   1S25 
X  2 


3o8  The  Book  of  Praise. 


ccxc. 

God  of  mercy,  throned  on  high, 

Listen  from  Thy  lofty  seat ; 
Hear,  O  hear  our  feeble  cry, 

Guide,  O  guide  our  wandering  feet ! 

Young  and  erring  travellers,  we 

All  our  dangers  do  not  know  ; 
Scarcely  fear  the  stormy  sea. 

Hardly  feel  the  tempest  blow. 

Jesus,  lov-er  of  the  young. 

Cleanse  us  with  Thy  Blood  divine  ! 
Ere  the  tide  of  sin  grow  strong, 

Save  us,  keep  us,  make  us  Thine  ! 

When  perplex'd  in  danger's  snare. 
Thou  alone  our  guide  canst  be  ; 

When  oppress'd  with  woe  and  care. 
Whom  have  we  to  trust  but  Thee  ? 

Let  us  ever  hear  Thy  voice, 

Ask  Thy  counsel  every  day  ; 
Saints  and  angels  will  rejoice, 

If  we  walk  in  wisdom's  way. 

Saviour,  give  us  faith,  and  pour 

Hope  and  love  on  every  soul ! 
Hope,  till  time  shall  be  no  more  ! 

Love,  while  endless  ages  roll ! 

Afion.  [1833.] 


Baptism  and  Childhood.  309 


ccxci. 

Shepherd  of  Israel,  from  above 

Thy  feeble  flock  behold  ; 
And  let  us  never  lose  Thy  love, 

Nor  wander  from  Thy  fold. 

Thou  wilt  not  cast  Thy  lambs  away ; 

Thy  hand  is  ever  near, 
To  guide  them  lest  they  go  astray, 

And  keep  them  safe  from  fear. 

Thy  tender  care  supports  the  weak, 

And  will  not  let  them  fall ; 
Then  teach  us,  Lord,  Thy  praise  to  speak, 

And  on  Thy  Name  to  call ! 

We  want  Thy  help,  for  we  are  frail ; 

Thy  light,  for  we  are  blind  ; 
Let  grace  o'er  all  our  doubts  prevail. 

To  prove  that  Thou  art  kind. 

Teach  us  the  things  we  ought  to  know  ; 

And  may  we  find  them  true  ; 
And  still,  in  stature  as  we  grow, 

Increase  in  wisdom  too. 

Guide  us  through  life  ;  and  when  at  last 

We  enter  into  rest. 
Thy  tender  arms  around  us  cast. 

And  fold  us  to  Thy  breast ! 

Williain  Hihy  Bathurst.  1831. 


3IO  The  Book  of  Praist 


V. 

HOLY  COMMUNION. 

CCXCII. 

With  all  the  powers  my  poor  soul  hath 
Of  humble  love,  and  loyal  faith, 
I  come,  dear  Lord,  to  worship  Thee, 
Whom  too  much  love  bowed  low  for  me. 

Down,  busy  sense  ;  discourses  die  ; 
And  all  adore  faith's  mystery  ! 
Faith  is  my  skill,  faith  can  believe 
As  fast  as  love  new  laws  shall  give. 

Faith  is  my  eye,  faith  strength  affords 
To  keep  pace  with  those  gracious  words  ; 
And  words  more  sure,  more  sweet  than  they, 
Love  could  not  think,  Truth  could  not  say. 

O  dear  memorial  of  that  Death 
Which  still  survives,  and  gives  us  breath  ! 
Live  ever,  Bread  of  Life,  and  be 
My  food,  my  joy,  my  all  to  me  ! 

Come,  glorious  Lord  !  my  hopes  increase, 
And  mix  my  portion  with  Thy  peace  ! 
Come,  and  for  ever  dwell  in  me 
That  I  m^ay  only  live  to  Thee  ! 

Come,  hidden  life,  and  that  long  day 
For  which  I  languish,  come  away  ! 
When  this  dry  soul  those  eyes  shall  see, 
And  drink  the  unseal'd  Source  of  Thee ; 


Holy  Commimion.  3 1 1 

When  Glory's  Sun  faith's  shade  shall  chase, 

And,  for  Thy  vail,  give  me  Thy  face  ; 

Then  shall  my  praise  eternal  be 

To  the  Eternal  Trinity ! 

Variation  fro?}i  Richard  CrasJiaiu.   1646. 

By  John  Austin^  1668, 

and  Theophilus  Dorrington.  1686. 


CCXCIII. 

In  memory  of  the  Saviour's  love, 
We  keep  the  sacred  feast. 

Where  every  humble  contrite  heart 
Is  made  a  welcome  guest. 

By  faith  we  take  the  Bread  of  Life, 
W^ith  which  our  souls  are  fed  ; 

And  Cup,  in  token  of  His  Blood 
That  was  for  sinners  shed. 

Under  His  banner  thus  we  sing 
The  wonders  of  His  love, 

And  thus  anticipate  by  faith 
The  heavenly  feast  above. 


Anon.  [1835.] 


ccxciv. 


O  God,  unseen,  yet  ever  near, 

Thy  presence  may  we  feel ; 
And  thus,  inspired  with  holy  fear. 

Before  Thine  altar  kneel. 

Here  may  Thy  faithful  people  know 

The  blessings  of  Thy  love  ; 
The  streams  that  through  the  desert  flow 

The  manna  from  above. 


312  Th  e  Book  of  Pra  ise. 

We  come,  obedient  to  Thy  word. 

To  feast  on  heavenly  food  ; 
Our  meat,  the  Body  of  the  Lord  ; 

Our  drink,  His  precious  Blood. 

Thus  would  we  all  Thy  words  obey  ; 

For  we,  O  God,  are  Thine  ; 
And  go  rejoicing  on  our  way, 

Renewed  with  strength  Divine  ! 

Edward  Osier.  [1836.] 


ccxcv. 

Lord,  when  before  Thy  throne  we  meet, 

Thy  goodness  to  adore, 
From  Heaven,  th'  eternal  mercy-seat. 

On  us  Thy  blessing  pour, 
And  make  our  inmost  souls  to  be 
An  habitation  meet  for  Thee  ! 

The  Body  for  our  ransom  given  ; 

The  Blood  in  mercy  shed  ; 
With  thij  immortal  food  from  Heaven, 

Lord  !  let  our  souls  be  fed  ! 
And,  as  we  round  Thy  table  kneel. 
Help  us  Thy  quickenin-g  grace  to  feel ! 

Be  Thou,  O  Holy  Spirit,  nigh  ! 

Accept  the  humble  prayer, 
The  contrite  soul's  repentant  sigh, 

The  sinner's  heartfelt  tear  ! 
And  let  our  adoration  rise, 
As  fragrant  incense,  to  the  skies  ! 

Ano7i.    [1853.] 


Holy  CoDummion.  313 

ccxcvi. 
yes7t,  didcedo  corditnn. 
Jesus,  thou  Joy  of  loving  hearts  ! 

Thou  Fount  of  Life  !  Thou  Light  of  men  ! 
From  the  best  bhss  that  earth  imparts, 
We  turn  unfill'd  to  Thee  again. 

Thy  truth  unchanged  hath  ever  stood  ; 

Thou  savest  those  that  on  Thee  call ; 
To  them  that  seek  Thee,  Thou  art  good, 

To  them  that  find  Thee,  All  in  All ! 

We  taste  Thee,  O  Thou  Living  Bread, 
And  long  to  feast  upon  Thee  still ! 

We  drink  of  Thee,  the  Fountain  Head, 
And  thirst  our  souls  from  Thee  to  fill ! 

Our  restless  spirits  yearn  for  Thee, 
Where'er  our  changeful  lot  is  cast ; 

Glad,  when  Thy  gracious  smile  we  see, 
Blest,  when  our  faith  can  hold  Thee  fast. 

O  Jesus,  ever  with  us  stay  ! 

Make  all  our  moments  calm  and  bright ! 
Chase  the  dark  night  of  sin  away, 
Shed  o'er  the  world  Thy  holy  light  ! 

Ray  Palmer.  [1834.] 
From  St.  Bernard. 

CCXCVII. 
They  talk'd  of  Jesus,  as  they  went ; 

And  Jesus,  all  unknown. 
Did  at  their  side  Himself  present 

With  sweetness  all  His  own. 
Swift,  as  He  op'd  the  sacred  word. 

His  glory  they  discern'd  ; 
And  swift,  as  His  dear  voice  they  heard, 

Their  hearts  within  them  burn'd. 


3 1 4  The  Book  of  Praise. 

He  would  have  left  them,  but  that  they 

With  prayers  His  love  assail'd  : 
"  Depart  not  yet !  a  little  stay  ! " 

They  press'd  Him,  and  prevail'd. 
And  Jesus  was  reveal'd,  as  there 

He  bless'd  and  brake  the  bread  : 
But,  while  they  mark'd  His  heavenly  air, 

The  matchless  Guest  had  fled. 

And  thus  at  times,  as  Christians  talk 

Of  Jesus  and  His  word, 
He  joms  two  friends  amidst  their  walk. 

And  makes,  unseen,  a  third. 
And  oh  !  how  sweet  their  converse  flows, 

Their  holy  theme  how  clear, 
How  warm  with  love  each  bosom  glows. 

If  Jesus  be  but  near  ! 

And  they  that  woo  His  visits  sweet. 

And  will  not  let  Him  go, 
Oft,  while  His  broken  bread  they  eat. 

His  soul-felt  presence  know  : 
His  gather'd  friends  He  loves  to  meet 

And  fill  with  joy  their  faith. 
When  they  with  melting  hearts  repeat 

The  memory  of  His  death. 

But  such  sweet  visits  here  are  brief; 

Dispensd  from  stage  to  stage, 
(A  cheering  and  a  prized  rehef,) 

Of  faith's  hard  pilgrimage. 
There  is  a  scene  where  Jesus  ne'er, 

Ne'er  leaves  His  happy  guests  ; 
He  spreads  a  ceaseless  banquet  there, 

And  love  still  fires  their  breasts. 

Thomas  Grinjield.  1836. 


Holy  Cojnmunioii.  315 


CCXCVIII. 

Jesus,  when  near  th'  expected  hour, 

That  Hell  to  grieve  Him  should  have  power, 

As  on  His  cross  He  kept  His  view, 

Into  an  upper  room  withdrew. 

With  all  His  votaries  there  to  meet 

And  celebrate  the  Paschal  treat. 

Then  He  Himself  for  death  disposed  ; 
Of  dying  well  the  art  disclosed  ; 
He  wash'd  with  condescension  sweet 
And  wiped  His  happy  lovers'  feet, 
That  from  pollution  cleansed  they  might 
Approach  the  Eucharistic  rite. 

The  Eucharist  He  then  ordain'd  ; 
With  food  immortal  them  sustain'd  ; 
Then  sang  an  hymn,'  the  feast  to  close, 
And  sweeten  His  approaching  woes. 
Scattering  truths  heav'nly,  high,  and  sweet. 
As  to  the  Mount  He  made  retreat. 

While  death  was  lively  in  His  thought, 
He  heavenly  truths  with  vigour  taught. 
How  to  be  loved  of  God,  and  love  ; 
Promised  sweet  peace  and  joys  above, 
And  the  bless'd  Spirit's  constant  aid  ; 
And  for  them  all  with  fervour  pray'd. 

He  spent  His  preparation  hours 

To  warn  of  dangers  and  hcU-powers  ; 

Their  hearts  to  counsel,  strengthen,  cheer. 

To  arm  against  degenerate  fear  ; 

Pure  love  fraternal  to  instil, 

And  form  them  to  His  Father  s  will. 


3 1 6  The  Book  of  Praise. 

My  soul  !  O  copy  every  line 

Of  this  original  divine  ! 

On  Jesus'  votaries  you  must  tend  ; 

To  wash  their  feet  must  condescend  ; 

You  pleasure  for  sweet  Jesus'  sake 

In  humble  charities  must  take. 

With  zeal  wash  your  own  spirit  clean 
From  all  concupiscence  terrene  ; 
When  wash'd  in  penitential  dew, 
Then  your  baptismal  vow  renew  ; 
What  Peter  wish'd  for,  wash  all  o'er, 
And  take  great  care  to  sin  no  more. 

Wash'd  in  heart-purifying  tear 

You  must  at  Jesus'  feast  appear, 

With  food  immortal  to  be  fed, 

That  you  nor  Hell  nor  Death  may  dread  ; 

Then  sing  an  hymn  of  the  like  strain 

With  that  above  of  the  Lamb  Slain. 

God's  love  to  all  with  zeal  suggest ; 
And  from  the  flame  in  your  own  breast 
Fire  other  hearts,  that  they  the  Name 
Of  Jesus'  friends  may  humbly  claim  ; 
From  God's  love,  love  fraternal  fire. 
In  which  all  Jesus'  friends  conspire. 

Your  foes  both  pray  for,  and  forgive  ; 
And,  when  you  ceasing  are  to  live, 
Strong  cries  to  Love  Paternal  send  ; 
Into  Love's  hands  your  soul  conlmend  ; 
In  Love" s  soft  hands  to  bliss  you'll  fly. 
Taught  by  loved  Jesus  how  to  die. 

Bishop  Thomas  Ken .  [  1 72 1 .] 


Holy  Matrimony.  3^7 


VI. 

HOLY   MATRIMONY. 

CCXCIX. 

The  voice  that  breathed  o'er  Eden, 
That  earhest  wedding  day, 

The  primal  marriage  blessing, 
It  hath  not  pass'd  away. 

Still  in  the  pure  espousal 
Of  Christian  man  and  maid, 

The  Holy  Three  are  with  us, 
The  three-fold  grace  is  said  : 

For  dower  of  blessed  children, 
For  love  and  faith's  sweet  sake. 

For  high  mysterious  union 

Which  nought  on  earth  may  break 

Be  present,  awful  Father, 

To  give  away  this  Bride, 
As  Eve  thou  gav'st  to  Adam 

Out  of  his  own  pierc'd  side  ! 

Be  present.  Son  of  Mary, 
To  join  their  loving  hands, 

As  Thou  didst  bind  two  natures 
In  Thine  eternal  bands  ! 

Be  present,  Holiest  Spirit, 
To  bless  them  as  they  kneel ; 

As  Thou,  for  Christ  the  Bridegroom, 
The  heavenly  Spouse  dost  seal ! 


3 1 8  The  Book  of  Praise. 

O  spread  Thy  pure  wing  o'er  them  ! 

Let  no  ill  Power  find  place, 
When  onward  to  Thine  altar 

The  hallow'd  path  they  trace. 

To  cast  their  crowns  before  Thee 

In  perfect  sacrifice, 
Till  to  the  home  of  gladness 

With  Christ's  own  Bride  they  rise  ! 

JohnKeble.  1857. 


VII. 
THE   BURIAL   OF   THE   DEAD. 

CCC. 

Thou  God  of  Love  !  beneath  Thy  sheltering  wings 

We  leave  our  holy  dead, 
To  rest  in  hope  !     From  this  world's  sufferings 

Their  souls  have  fled  ! 

Oh !  when  our  hearts  are  burthen'd  with  the  weight 

Of  life,  and  all  its  woes. 
Let  us  remember  them,  and  calmly  wait 

To  our  life's  close  ! 

Anon    1855. 


CCCI. 
A^unc  suscipe,  terra,  fovendtim. 

Receive  him,  Earth,  unto  thine  harbouring  shrine  ; 

In  thy  soft  tranquil  bosom  let  him  rest ; 
These  limbs  of  man  I  to  thy  care  consign, 

And  trust  the  noble  fragments  to  thy  breast. 


llie  Burial  of  the  Dead.  3 1 9 

This  house  was  once  the  mansion  of  a  soul 
Brought  into  life  by  its  Creator  s  breath  ; 

Wisdom  did  once  tliis  living  mass  control ; 

And  Christ  was  there  enshrined,  who  conquers 
death. 

Cover  this  Body  to  thy  care  consign'd  ; 

Its  Maker  shall  not  leave  it  in  the  grave  ; 
But  His  own  lineaments  shall  bear  in  mind, 
And  shall  recall  the  image  which  He  gave. 

Isaac  Williams.  1838. 
{From  P?'icdcntius) 


CCCIl. 

There  is  a  calm  for  those  who  weep  ; 
A  rest  for  weary  pilgrims  found  ; 
And,  while  the  mouldering  ashes  sleep, 
Low  in  the  ground, 

The  Soul,  of  origin  Divine, 
God's  glorious  image,  freed  from  clay. 
In  Heaven's  eternal  sphere  shall  shine, 
A  Star  of  Day. 

The  sun  is  but  a  spark  of  fire, 

A  transient  meteor  in  the  sky  ; 

The  Soul,  immortal  as  its  Sire, 

Shall  never  die  ! 

James  Montgomery.  1804. 


CCCIII. 

Must  friends  and  kindred  droop  and  die, 

And  helpers  be  withdrawn, 
While  sorrow,  with  a  weeping  eye, 

Counts  up  our  comforts  gone  ? 


320  The  Book  of  Praise. 

Be  Thou  our  comfort,  mighty  God  ! 

Our  Helper  and  our  Friend  ! 
Nor  leave  us,  in  this  dangerous  road, 

Till  all  our  trials  end  ! 

O  may  our  feet  pursue  the  way 

Our  pious  fathers  led  ; 
With  love  and  holy  zeal  obey 

The  counsels  of  the  dead  ! 

Let  us  be  wean'd  from  all  below  ; 

Let  hope  our  grief  expel ; 
While  death  invites  our  souls  to  go 

W^here  our  best  kindred  dwell. 

Isaac  Watts.  1709. 


CCCIV. 

Now  let  our  mourning  hearts  revive. 

And  all  our  tears  be  dry  ; 
Why  should  those  eyes  be  drown'd  in  grief, 

Which  view  a  Saviour  nigh  ? 

What  though  the  arm  of  conquering  death 
Does  God's  own  house  invade  ? 

What  though  the  prophet  and  the  priest 
Be  number'd  with  the  dead  ? 

Though  earthly  shepherds  dwell  in  dust. 

The  aged  and  the  young  ; 
The  watchful  eye  in  darkness  closed, 

And  mute  th'  instructive  tongue : 

Th'  Eternal  Shepherd  still  survives, 

New  comfort  to  impart ; 
His  eye  still  guides  us,  and  His  voice 

Still  animates  our  heart. 


The  Burial  of  the  Dead.  321 

Lo,  I  am  with  you  !  saith  the  Lord  ; 

My  Church  shall  safe  abide  ; 
For  I  will  ne'er  forsake  My  own, 

Whose  souls  in  Me  confide. 

Through  every  scene,  of  life  and  death, 

This  promise  is  our  trust; 
And  this  shall  be  our  children's  song 

When  we  are  cold  in  dust. 

Philip  Doddridge.  1 75  5 . 


CCCV. 
Thou  art  gone  to  the  grave  :  but  we  will  not  deplore 
thee, 
Though   sorrows   and   darkness   encompass   the 
tomb  : 
The  Saviour  hath  pass'd  through  its  portal  before 
thee, 
And  the  lamp  of  His  tovc  is  thy  guide  through  the 
gloom  1 

Thou  art  gone  to  the  grave :  we  no  longer  behold 
thee, 
Nor  tread  the  rough  path  of  the  world  by  thy 
side; 
But  the  wide  arms  of  I\Iercy  are  spread  to  enfold 
thee. 
And  sinners  may  die,  for  the  Sinless  has  died  ! 

Thou   art  gone   to   the   grave:    and,  its  mansion 
forsaking, 
Perhaps  thy  weak  spirit  in  fear  lingcr'd  long  ; 
But    the   mild   rays    of    Paradise   beanVd    on    thy 
waking, 
And    the    sound   which    tliou    heard'st   was    the 
Seraphim's  song  ! 

Y 


322  The  Book  of  Praise. 

Thou  art  gone  to  the  grave  :  but  we  will  not  deplore 
thee  ; 
Whose  God  was  thy  ransom,  thy  Guardian,  and 
Guide  ! 
He  gave  thee,  He  took  thee,  and  He  will  restore 
thee ; 
And  death  has  no  sting,  for  the  Saviour  has  died ! 
Bish op  Reginald  Heber.  1827. 


CCCVI. 

Brother,  thou  art  gone  before  us  ;  and  thy  saintly 

soul  is  flown 
Where  tears  are  wiped  from  every  eye,  and  sorrow 

is  unknown  ; 
From  the  burden  of  the  flesh,  and  from  care  and 

fear  releas'd, 
Where  the  wicked  cease  from  troubling,  and  the 

weary  are  at  rest. 

The  toilsome  way  thou'st  travelled  o'er,  and  borne 

the  heavy  load  ; 
But  Christ  hath  taught  thy  languid  feet  to  reach 

His  blest  abode  : 
Thou  rt  sleeping  now,  like  Lazarus  upon  his  father's 

breast, 
Where  the  wicked  cease  from  troubling,  and  the 

weary  are  at  rest. 

Sin  can  never  taint  thee  now,  nor  doubt  thy  faith 

assail, 
Nor  thy  meek  trust  in  Jesus  Christ  and  the  Holy 

Spirit  fail : 


Church  Dedication.  3^3 

And  there  thou'rt  sure  to  meet  the  good,  whom  on 

earth  thou  lovedst  best, 
Where  the  wicked  cease  from  troubhng,  and  the 

weary  are  at  rest. 

Earth  to  earth,  and  dust  to  dust,  the  solemn  priest 

hath  said  ; 
So  we  lay  the  turf  above  thee  now,  and  we  seal  thy 

narrow  bed  ; 
But    thy   spirit,    brother,    soars    away   among    the 

faithful  blest, 
sVhere  the  wicked  cease  from   troubling,  and  the 

weary  are  at  rest. 

And  when  the  Lord  shall  summon  us,  whom  thou 

hast  left  behind, 
May  we,  untainted  by  the  world,  as  sure  a  wckome 

find! 
May   each,   like   thee,   depart   in   peace,   to  be   a 

glorious  guest, 
Where  the  wicked   cease  from  troubling,  and  the 

weary  are  at  rest  I 

Henry  Hart  Milman,   1822. 


VIII. 

CHURCH   DEDICATION. 

CCCVII. 

Lord  of  hosts  !  to  Thee  wc  raise 
Here  a  house  of  prayer  and  praise : 
Thou  Thy  people's  hearts  prepare. 
Here  to  meet  for  praise  and  prayer  ! 
Y  2 


324  The  Book  of  Praise. 

Let  the  living  here  be  fed 

With  Thy  Word,  the  heavenly  bread  ; 

Here,  in  hope  of  glory  blest, 

May  the  dead  be  laid  to  rest  i 

Here  to  Thee  a  temple  stand 
While  the  sea  shall  gird  the  land  ! 
Here  reveal  Thy  mercy  sure. 
While  the  sun  and  moon  endure  ! 

Hallelujah  !  earth  and  sky 
To  the  joyful  sound  reply  ! 
Hallelujah !  hence  ascend 
Prayer  and  praise  till  time  shall  end  ! 

Jmnes  Montgomery.  1825. 


CCCVIII. 
Angulare  Fiindamentuni. 

Christ  is  our  corner-stone, 
On  Him  alone  we  build  ; 
With  His  true  saints  alone 
The  courts  of  Heaven  are  fill'd  : 
On  His  great  love 
Our  hopes  we  place 
Of  present  grace 
And  joys  above. 

O  then  with  hymns  of  praise 
These  hallow'd  courts  shall  ring  ; 
Our  voices  we  will  raise 
The  Three  in  One  to  sing  ; 
And  thus  proclaim 
In  joyful  song 
Both  loud  and  long 
That  glorious  Name. 


Church  Dedication.  325 

Here,  gracious  God,  do  Thou 
For  evermore  draw  nigh  ; 
Accept  each  faithful  vow. 
And  mark  each  suppHant  sigh  ; 
In  copious  shower 
On  all  who  pray 
Each  holy  day 
Thy  blessings  pour  ! 

Here  may  we  gain  from  Heaven 
The  grace  which  we  implore  ; 
And  may  that  grace,  once  given, 
Be  with  us  evermore. 
Until  that  day 
When  all  the  blest 
To  endless  rest 
Are  call'd  away  ! 

John  Chandler.  1837. 


cccix. 

The  lovely  form  of  God's  own  Church, 

It  riseth  in  all  lands  ; 
On  mountain  sides,  in  wooded  vales. 

And  by  the  desert  sands. 

There  is  it,  with  its  solemn  aisles, 

A  heavenly,  holy  thing  ; 
And  round  its  walls  lie  Christian  dead, 

Blessedly  slumbering. 

Though  sects  and  factions  rend  the  world, 

Peace  is  its  heritage  ; 
Unchanged,  though  empires  by  it  pass. 

The  same  from  age  to  age. 


326  The  Book  of  Praise. 

The  hallow'd  form  our  fathers  built. 
That  hallo^v'd  form  build  we  ; 

Let  not  one  stone  from  its  own  place 
Removed  ever  be  ! 

Scoff  as  thou  passest,  if  thou  wilt, 
Thou  man  that  hast  no  faith  ; 

Thou,  that  no  sorrows  hast  in  life, 
Nor  blessedness  in  death  : 

But  we  will  build,  for  all  thou  scoff, 
And  cry,  "What  waste  is  this  !  " 

The  Lord  our  God  hath  given  us  all. 
And  all  is  therefore  His. 

Clear  voices  from  above  sound  out 

Their  blessing  on  the  pile  ; 
The  dead  beneath  support  our  hands. 

And  succour  us  the  while. 

Vea,  when  we  climb  the  rising  walls, 
Is  peace  and  comfort  given  ! 

Because  the  work  is  not  of  earth, 
But  hath  its  end  in  Heaven  ! 

Heiuy  Alford.  1845, 


IX. 

THE    LORD'S    DAY. 

cccx. 

Welcome,  sweet  day,  of  days  the  best. 
The  time  of  holy  mirth  and  rest, 

When  to  God's  house  the  saints  repair 
To  hear  His  word  and  see  His  face, 
To  learn  His  will  and  sing  His  grace. 

And  vent  their  hearts  in  praise  and  prayer. 


The  Lord's  Day.  V-1 

This  is  employment  all  Divine  ; 
My  soul,  the  blest  assembly  join, 

And  from  the  world  this  day  retire  : 
Go,  bow  before  thy  Maker's  throne, 
Thy  risen  Saviour's  glories  own, 

And  feed  thy  love,  and  fan  the  fire. 

Forget  the  trifles  here  below, 

The  shining  heap,  the  gaudy  sliow, 

All  sensual  mirth,  and  worldly  cares  ; 
On  wings  of  strong  devotion  rise. 
Pass  every  cloud,  pass  all  the  skies, 

And  leave  beneath  Thy  feet  the  stars. 

To  God  direct  thy  steady  flight. 

Great  Fund  of  bliss  and  Source  of  light  ; 

There  fix,  and  there  delight  thme  eyes : 
View  every  shining  wonder  o'er, 
And  with  transported  heart  adore, 

And  feast  on  fruits  of  paradise. 

This  day  was  by  our  Lord  ordain'd, 
That  thus  His  servants  might  be  train'd 

For  heavenly  work,  and  heavenly  joy  : 
My  soul,  be  this  thy  day  of  rest, 
And  thus  prepare  thee  to  be  blest. 

Thus  all  thy  holy  hours  employ  ! 

Simon  Browne.  1 720. 

CCCXI. 

O  day  most  calm,  most  bright ! 
The  fruit  of  this,  the  next  world's  bud  ; 
The  indorsement  of  supreme  delight, 
Writ  by  a  Friend,  and  with  His  blood  ; 
The  couch  of  time  ;  care's  balm  and  bay  ; 
The  week  were  dark,  but  for  thy  light ; 

Thy  torch  doth  show  the  way. 


328  The  Book  of  Praise. 

The  other  days  and  thou 
Make  up  one  man  ;  whose  face  thou  art, 
Knocking  at  Heaven  with  thy  brow  : 
The  working  days  are  the  back  part ; 
The  burden  of  the  week  hes  there, 
Making  the  whole  to  stoop  and  bow. 

Till  thy  release  appear. 

Man  had  straight  forward  gone 
To  endless  death  ;  but  thou  dost  pull 
And  turn  us  round  to  look  on  One, 
Whom,  if  we  were  not  very  dull, 
We  could  not  choose  but  look  on  still, 
Since  there  is  no  place  so  alone, 

The  which  He  doth  not  fill ! 

Sundays  the  pillars  are 
On  which  Heav'n's  palace  arched  lies : 
The  other  days  fill  up  the  spare 
And  hollow  room  with  vanities  : 
They  are  the  fruitful  beds  and  borders 
Of  God's  rich  garden  ;  that  is  bare, 

Which  parts  their  ranks  and  orders. 

The  Sundays  of  man's  life, 
Threaded  together  on  time's  string, 
Make  bracelets  to  adorn  the  wife 
Of  the  eternal  glorious  King : 
On  Sunday  Heaven's  gate  stands  ope  ; 
Blessings  are  plentiful  and  rife, 

More  plentiful  than  hope. 

This  day  my  Saviour  rose, 
And  did  enclose  this  light  for  His  ; 
That,  as  each  beast  his  manger  knows, 
Man  might  not  of  his  fodder  miss  : 


The  Loj'd's  Day.  329 

Christ  hath  took  in  this  piece  of  ground, 
And  made  a  garden  there,  for  those 
Who  want  herbs  for  their  wound. 

The  rest  of  our  Creation 
Our  great  Redeemer  did  remove 
With  the  same  shake,  which  at  His  passion 
Did  th'  earth,  and  all  things  with  it,  mov^e  : 
As  Samson  bore  the  doors  away, 
Christ's  hands,  though  nail'd,  wrought  our  salvation, 

And  did  unhinge  that  day. 

The  brightness  of  that  day 
We  sullied  by  our  foul  offence  ; 
Wherefore  that  robe  we  cast  away, 
Having  a  new  at  His  expense. 
Whose  drops  of  blood  paid  the  full  price 
That  was  required  to  make  us  gay, 

And  fit  for  Paradise. 

George  Herbert.  1632. 


CCCXII. 

My  Lord,  my  love  was  crucified. 

He  all  the  pains  did  bear  ; 
But  in  the  sweetness  of  His  rest 

He  makes  His  servants  share. 
How  sweetly  rest  Thy  saints  above 

Wliich  in  Thy  bosom  lie  ! 
The  Church  below  doth  rest  in  hope 

Of  that  felicity. 

Thou,  Lord,  who  daily  fced'st  Thy  sheep, 

Mak'st  them  a  weekly  feast  ; 
Thy  flocks  meet  in  their  several  folds 

Upon  this  day  of  rest : 


22^^  The  Book  of  Praise. 

Welcome  and  dear  unto  my  soul 

Are  these  sweet  feasts  of  love  : 
But  what  a  sabbath  shall  I  keep 

When  I  shall  rest  above  ! 

I  bless  Thy  wise  and  wondrous  love, 

Which  binds  us  to  be  free  ; 
Which  makes  us  leave  our  earthly  snares, 

That  we  may  come  to  Thee  ! 
I  come,  I  wait,  I  hear,  I  pray  ! 

Thy  footsteps,  Lord,  I  trace  ! 
I  sing  to  think  this  is  the  way 

Unto  my  Saviour's  face  ! 

John  Mason.  1683. 

CCCXIII. 

0  time  of  tranquil  joy  and  holy  feeling  f 
When  over  earth  God's  Spirit  from  above 

Spreads  out  His  wings  of  love  ! 
When  sacred  thoughts,  like  angels,  come  appealing 
To  our  tent  doors  ;    O  eve,  to  earth  and  heaven 

The  sweetest  of  the  seven  ! 

How  peaceful  are  thy  skies  !    thy  air  is  clearer, 
As  on  the  advent  of  a  gracious  time  : 

The  sweetness  of  its  prime 
Blesseth  the  world,  and  Eden's  days  seem  nearer  : 

1  hear,  in  each  faint  stirring  of  the  breeze, 

God's  voice  among  the  trees. 

O  while  thy  hallowed  moments  are  distilling 
Their  fresher  influence  on  my  heart  like  dews. 

The  chamber  where  I  muse 
Turns  to  a  temple  !    He,  whose  converse  thrilling 
Honoured  Emmaiis,  that  old  eventide. 

Comes  sudden  to  my  side. 


The  Lord's  Day.  33 1 

'Tis  light  at  evening  time  when  Thou  art  present  ; 
Thy  coming  to  the  eleven  in  that  dim  room 

Brightened,  O  Christ !  its  gloom  : 
So  bless  my  lonely  hour  that  memories  pleasant 
Around  the  time  a  heavenly  gleam  may  cast, 

Which  many  days  shall  last  ! 

Raise  each  low  aim,  refine  each  high  emotion, 
That  with  more  ardent  footstep  I  may  press 

Toward  Thy  holiness  ; 
And,  braced  for  sacred  duty  by  devotion, 
Support  my  cross  along  that  rugged  road 

Which  Thou  hast  sometime  trod  ! 

I  long  to  see  Thee,  for  my  heart  is  weary  : 

O  when,  my  Lord  !  in  kindness  wilt  Thou  come 

To  call  Thy  banished  home  ? 
The  scenes  are  cheerless,  and  the  days  are  dreary  ; 
From  sorrow  and  from  sin  I  would  be  free, 

And  evermore  with  Thee  ! 

Even  now  I  see  the  golden  city  shining 
Up  the  blue  depths  of  that  transparent  air  : 

How  happy  all  is  there  ! 
There  breaks  a  day  which  never  knows  declining  ; 
A  Sabbath,  through  whose  circling  hours  the  blest 

Beneath  Thy  shadow  rest ! 

James  D.  Burns.  1855. 


CCCXIV. 

Psalm  XCII. 

Sweet  is  the  work,  my  God,  my  King, 
To  praise  Thy  Name,  give  thanks  and  sing. 
To  show  Thy  love  by  morning  light, 
And  talk  of  all  Thy  truth  at  night. 


332  The  Book  of  Praise. 

Sweet  is  the  day  of  sacred  rest ; 
No  mortal  cares  shall  seize  my  breast ; 
O  may  my  heart  in  tune  be  found, 
Like  David's  harp  of  solemn  sound  ! 

My  heart  shall  triumph  in  my  Lord, 
And  bless  His  works,  and  bless  His  word  : 
Thy  works  of  grace,  how  bright  they  shine  ! 
How  deep  Thy  counsels,  how  divine  ! 

Fools  never  raise  their  thoughts  so  high, 
Like  brutes  they  live,  like  brutes  they  die  ; 
Like  grass  they  flourish,  till  Thy  breath 
Blast  them  in  everlasting  death. 

But  I  shall  share  a  glorious  part, 
When  grace  hath  well  refined  my  heart. 
And  fresh  supplies  of  joy  are  shed, 
Like  holy  oil  to  cheer  my  head. 

Sin,  my  worst  enemy  before. 
Shall  vex  my  eyes  and  ears  no  more  ; 
My  inward  foes  shall  all  be  slain. 
Nor  Satan  break  my  peace  again. 

Then  shall  I  see  and  hear  and  know 
All  I  desired  or  wish'd  below, 
And  every  power  find  sweet  employ 
In  that  eternal  world  of  joy  ! 

Isaac  Watts.     1719. 

cccxv. 

Psalm  LXXXL 

Sing  to  the  Lord,  our  might. 
With  holy  fervour  sing  ; 
Let  hearts  and  instruments  unite 
To  praise  our  heavenly  King. 


The  Lord's  Day.  333 

This  is  His  holy  house, 
And  this  His  festal  day, 
When  He  accepts  the  humblest  vows 
That  we  sincerely  pay. 

The  Sabbath  to  our  sires 
In  mercy  first  was  given  ; 
The  Church  her  Sabbaths  still  requires 
To  speed  her  on  to  Heaven. 

We  still,  like  them  of  old, 
Are  in  the  -wilderness  ; 
And  God  is  still  as  near  His  fold, 
To  pity  and  tq  bless. 

Then  let  us  open  wide 
Our  hearts  for  Him  to  fill ; 
And  He,  that  Israel  then  supplied, 
Will  help  His  Israel  still. 

Henry  Francis  Lyte.  1 834 —  1 84 1 . 


CCCXVI. 

The  day  of  rest  once  more  comes  round, 

A  day  to  all  believers  dear  ; 
The  silver  trumpets  seem  to  sound, 
That  call  the  tribes  of  Israel  near  ; 
Ye  people  all, 
Obey  the  call, 
And  in  Jehovah's  courts  appear. 

Obedient  to  Thy  summons,  Lord, 
We  to  Thy  sanctuary  come  ; 

Thy  gracious  presence  here  afford, 
And  send  Thy  people  joyful  home  ; 


334  T1ie  Book  of  Praise. 

Of  Thee  our  King 
O  may  we  sing, 
And  none  with  such  a  theme  be  dumb  ! 

O  hasten,  Lord,  the  day  when  those, 

Who  know  Thee  here,  shall  see  Thy  face  ; 
When  suffering  shall  for  ever  close, 

And  they  shall  reach  their  destined  place  ; 
Then  shall  they  rest 
Supremely  blest. 
Eternal  debtors  to  Thy  grace  ! 

Thomas  Kelly.  1806. 


CCCXVII. 

Hail,  thou  bright  and  sacred  morn, 
Risen  with  gladness  in  thy  beams  ! 

Light,  which  not  of  earth  is  born, 
From  thy  dawn  in  glory  streams  : 

Airs  of  Heaven  are  breath'd  around 

And  each  place  is  holy  ground. 

Sad  and  weary  were  our  way, 
Fainting  oft  beneath  our  load. 

But  for  thee,  thou  blessed  day. 

Resting-place  on  life's  rough  road  ! 

Here  flow  forth  the  streams  of  grace, 


Great  Creator  !  who  this  day 

From  Thy  perfect  work  didst  rest 

By  the  souls  that  own  Thy  sway 
HalloVd  be  its  hours  and  blest ; 

Cares  of  earth  aside  be  thrown, 

This  day  giv'n  to  Heaven  alone  ! 


The  Lord's  Day.  335 

Saviour !  who  this  day  didst  break 

The  dark  prison  of  the  tomb  ; 
Bid  my  slumbering  soul  awake, 

Shine  through  all  its  sin  and  gloom  : 
Let  me,  from  my  bonds  set  free, 
Rise  from  sin,  and  live  to  Thee  ! 

Blessed  Spirit  !  Comforter  ! 

Sent  this  day  from  Christ  on  high ; 
Lord,  on  me  Thy  gifts  confer. 

Cleanse,  illumine,  sanctify! 
All  Thine  influence  shed  abroad, 
Lead  me  to  the  truth  of  God  ! 

Soon,  too  soon,  the  sweet  repose 

Of  this  day  of  God  will  cease  ; 
Soon  this  glimpse  of  Heaven  will  close, 

Vanish  soon  the  hours  of  peace  ; 
Soon  return  the  toil,  the  strife, 
All  the  weariness  of  life. 

But  the  rest  which  yet  remains 

For  Thy  people.  Lord,  above, 
Knows  nor  change,  nor  fears,  nor  pains, 

Endless  as  their  Saviour's  love  : 
O  may  every  Sabbath  here 
Bring  us  to  that  rest  more  near  ! 

yidia  Anne  Elliott.  1833. 


CCCXVIII. 

Lord  of  the  Sabbath  !  hear  our  vows, 
On  this  Thy  day,  in  this  Thy  house  ; 
And  own  as  grateful  sacrifice 
The  songs  which  from  the  desert  rise. 


336  The  Book  of  Praise. 

Thine  earthly  Sabbaths,  Lord,  we  love  ; 
But  there's  a  nobler  rest  above  ; 
To  that  our  labouring  souls  aspire 
With  ardent  pangs  of  strong  desire. 

No  more  fatigue,  no  more  distress  ; 
Nor  sin  nor  hell  shall  reach  the  place  ; 
No  groans  to  mingle  with  the  songs 
Which  warble  from  immortal  tongues. 

No  rude  alarms  of  raging  foes  ; 
No  cares  to  break  the  long  repose  ; 
No  midnight  shade,  no  clouded  sun, 
But  sacred,  high,  eternal  noon. 

O  long-expected  day,  begin  ! 
Dawn  on  these  realms  of  woe  and  sin  ! 
Fain  would  we  leave  this  weary  road. 
And  sleep  in  death,  to  rest  with  God ! 

Ph  Hip  Doddridge .  1755. 


CCCXIX. 

To  Thy  temple  I  repair  ; 
Lord,  I  love  to  worship  there  ; 
When,  within  the  veil,  I  meet 
Christ  before  the  mercy-seat. 

Thou,  through  Him,  art  reconciled  ; 
I,  through  Him,  became  Thy  child  ; 
Abba,  Father  !  give  me  grace 
In  Thy  courts  to  seek  Thy  face  ! 

W^hile  Thy  glorious  praise  is  sung, 
Touch  my  lips,  unloose  my  tongue. 
That  my  joyful  soul  may  bless 
Thee,  the  Lord  my  Righteousness  ! 


The  Lord's  Day.  337 

While  the  prayers  of  saints  ascend, 
God  of  love  !  to  mine  attend  ! 
Hear  me,  for  Thy  Spirit  pleads  ; 
Hear,  for  Jesus  intercedes  ! 

While  1  hearken  to  Thy  law, 
Fill  my  soul  with  humble  awe  ; 
Till  Thy  Gospel  bring  to  me 
Life  and  immortality  : 

While  Thy  ministers  proclaim 
Peace  and  pardon  in  Thy  Name, 
Through  their  voice,  by  faith,  may  I 
Hear  Thee  speaking  from  the  sky  ! 

From  Thy  house  when  I  return. 
May  my  heart  within  me  burn  ; 
And  at  evening  let  me  say, 
I  have  walk'd  with  God  to-day  ! 

James  Montgomery.  1825, 


cccxx. 

Ere  another  Sabbath's  close, 
Ere  again  we  seek  repose, 
Lord  !  our  song  ascends  to  Thee  ; 
At  Thy  feet  we  bow  the  knee. 

For  the  mercies  of  the  day, 
For  this  rest  upon  our  way. 
Thanks  to  Thee  alone  be  given, 
Lord  of  earth,  and  King  of  Heaven  ! 

Cold  our  services  have  been  ; 
Mingled  every  prayer  with  sin  ; 
But  Thou  canst  and  wilt  forgive ; 
By  Thy  grace  alone  we  live  ! 
z 


338  The  Book  of  Praise. 

Whilst  this  thorny  path  we  tread, 
May  Thy  love  our  footsteps  lead  ! 
When  our  journey  here  is  past, 
May  we  rest  with  Thee  at  last  ! 

Let  these  earthly  Sabbaths  prove 
Foretastes  of  our  joys  above  ; 
While  their  steps  Thy  pilgrims  bend 
To  the  rest  which  knows  no  end  ! 

A7ion,  [1833-] 


CCCXXI. 

Of  Thy  love  some  gracious  token 

Grant  us,  Lord,  before  we  go  ; 
Bless  Thy  word  which  has  been  spoken  ; 

Life  and  peace  on  all  bestow ! 
When  we  join  the  world  again, 
Let  our  hearts  with  Thee  remain  : 
O  direct  us 
And  protect  us. 
Till  we  gain  the  heavenly  shore. 
Where  Thy  people  want  no  more  ! 

Thomas  Kelly.  1 804. 


END   OF   PART  TIL 


PART    IV. 

SONGS   OF   THE   HEART. 


&^t  §00li  oi  praise. 

PART  THE  FOURTH. 

SONGS   OF   THE   HEART. 

I. 

THE   CALL. 
''  Rise;  He  callcth  //zc-6'."— (Mark  x.  49.) 

cccxxii. 

Child  of  sin  and  sorrow, 

Fill'd  with  dismay, 
Wait  not  for  to-morrow, 

Yield  thee  to-day  ! 

Heaven  bids  thee  come 

While  yet  there's  room  : 
Child  of  sin  and  sorrow, 

Hear,  and  obey ! 

Child  of  sin  and  sorrow. 

Why  wilt  thou  die  ? 
Come,  while  thou  canst  borrow 

Help  from  on  high! 

Grieve  not  that  love 

Which  from  above. 
Child  of  sin  and  sorrow. 

Would  bring  thee  nigh  ! 

Thomas  Hastings.  1 8  54. 


342  The  Book  of  Pi'aise. 


CCCXXIII. 

Poor  child  of  sin  and  woe, 
Now  listen  to  thy  Father's  pleading  voice  ; 

No  longer  need'st  thou  go 
Without  a  friend  to  bid  thy  heart  rejoice. 

I  know  thou  canst  not  rest 
Until  thou  art  from  guilt  and  sorrow  free  ; 

Earth  cannot  make  thee  blest ; 
Come,  bring  thy  suffering,  bleeding  heart  to  Me. 

How  often,  in  the  hour 
Of  weariness,  would  I  have  succoured  thee  ! 

But  thou  didst  spurn  the  power, 
And  scorn  the  heart  that  loved  so  tenderly. 

Oh,  what  on  earth  aprpears 
To  comfort  thy  distress  and  heal  thy  grief, 

To  dry  thy  bitter  tears. 
And  offer  thy  poor  sinking  soul  relief  '^. 

Thy  life  of  sin  has  been 
A  toilsome  path,  without  one  cheering  ray  ; 

Now  on  thy  Father  lean, 
And  He  will  guide  thee  in  a  better  way. 

Come,  leave  the  desert  land. 
And  all  the  husks  on  which  thy  soul  has  fed  ; 

And  trust  the  faithful  Hand 
That  offers  thee  a  feast  of  living  Bread. 

O  sinner  !  'tis  the  voice 
Of  One,  who  long  has  loved  and  pitied  thee  ! 

He  would  thy  heart  rejoice. 
And  set  thee  from  all  sin  and  suffering  free. 


The  Call.  343 

Oh,  canst  thou  turn  away  ? 
It  is  thy  Father  that  invites  thee  near  ! 

Nay,  sinner  !  weep  and  pray  ! 
And  Heaven  shall  hail  the  penitential  tear  ! 

Eliza  Famiy  Morris.  1858. 


cccxxiv. 

Return,  O  wanderer,  to  thy  home ; 

Thy  Father  calls  for  thee  : 
No  longer  now  an  exile  roam, 

In  guilt  and  misery  : 
Return,  return  ! 

Return,  O  wanderer,  to  thy  home  ; 

"Tis  Jesus  calls  for  thee  : 
The  Spirit  and  the  Bride  say,  Come : 

O  now  for  refuge  flee  ; 
Return,  return  ! 

Return,  O  wanderer,  to  thy  home  ; 

'Tis  madness  to  delay  ; 
There  are  no  pardons  in  the  tomb, 
And  brief  is  merc)^s  day  : 
Return,  return  ! 

TJiomas  Hastings,  1834. 


CCCXXV. 

Haste,  traveller,  haste  !  the  night  comes  on, 
And  many  a  shining  hour  is  gone  ; 
The  storm  is  gathering  in  the  west, 
And  thou  art  far  from  home  and  rest  ; 

Haste,  traveller,  haste  I 


344  The  Book  of  Praise. 

O  far  from  home  thy  footsteps  stray  ; 
Christ  is  the  Life,  and  Christ  the  Way ; 
And  Christ  the  Light,  thy  seciing  Sun, 
Sinks  ere  thy  morning  is  begun  : 

Haste,  traveiier,  haste ! 

Awake,  awake  !  pursue  thy  way 
With  steady  course,  while  yet  'tis  day  ; 
While  thou  art  sleeping  on  the  ground, 
Danger  and  darkness  gather  round  ; 

Haste,  traveller,  haste  ! 

The  rising  tempest  sweeps  me  sky  ; 
The  rains  descend,  the  winds  are  high ; 
The  waters  swell,  and  death  and  fear 
Beset  thy  path,  nor  refuge  near  ; 

Haste,  traveller,  haste ! 

O  yes  !  a  shelter  you  may  gain, 
A  covert  from  the  wind  and  rain, 
A  hiding-place,  a  rest,  a  home, 
A  refuge  from  the  wrath  to  come  ; 

Haste,  traveller,  haste  ! 

Then  linger  not  in  all  the  plain. 
Flee  for  thy  life,  the  mountain  gain  ; 
Look  not  behind,  make  no  delay, 
O  speed  thee,  speed  thee  on  thy  way  ; 

Haste,  traveller,  haste  ! 

Poor,  lost,  benighted  soul  !  art  thou 
Willing  to  find  salvation  now  ? 
There  yet  is  hope  ;  hear  mercy's  call  ; 
Truth  !  Life  !  Light  !  Way  !  in  Christ  is  all ! 
Haste  to  Him,  haste  I 
William  Be7i^o  Collyer.  [1829.] 


The  Call  345 


CCCXXVI. 


Just  as  fhou  art,  without  one  trace 
Of  love  or  joy  or  inward  grace, 
Or  meetness  for  the  heavenly  place, 

O  guilty  sinner,  come  ! 

Burden'd  with  guilt,  wouldst  thou  be  blest  ? 
Trust  not  the  world,  it  gives  no  rest  ; 
Christ  brings  reUef  to  hearts  opprest  ; 

O  weary  sinner,  come  ! 

Come,  leave  thy  burden  at  the  cross  ; 
Count  all  thy  gains  but  worthless  dross  ; 
His  grace  o'erpays  all  earthly  loss  ; 

O  needy  sinner,  come  ! 

Come  hither  !  bring  thy  boding  fears, 
Thy  aching  heart,  thy  bursting  tears  ; 
'Tis  Mercy's  voice  salutes  thine  ears  ; 

O  trembhng  sinner,  come  ! 
Anon.  [1862. J 


CCCXXVII. 

Rev.  xxii.  17. 

Sweet  is  the  Spirit's  strain  ; 
BreatlVd  by  soft  pleadings  inly  heard, 
By  all  the  heart's  deep  fountains  stirr  d, 
By  conscience,  and  the  written  Word  ; 

Come,  wanderers,  home  again  ! 


346  The  Book  of  Praise. 

The  Bride  repeats  the  call ; 
By  high  thanksgiving,  lowly  prayer, 
By  days  of  rest,  and  fostering  care, 
By  holy  rites,  that  all  may  share  ; 

She  whispers.  Come  !  to  all. 

Let  him  who  hears  say,  Come  ! 
If  thou  hast  been  sin's  wretched  slave ; 
If  thou  art  risen  from  that  grave  ; 
Thy  sleeping  brethren  seek  to  save, 

And  call  the  wanderers  home. 

And  let  all  come,  who  thirst ! 
Freely  for  every  child  of  w^oe 
The  streams  of  living  waters  flow ; 
And  whosoever  will,  may  go 

Where  healing  fountains  burst. 

There  drink  and  be  at  rest ; 
On  Him  who  died  for  thee  believe  ; 
The  Spirit's  quickening  grace  receive  ; 
No  more  the  God  who  seeks  thee  grieve  ; 

Be  holy,  and  be  blest  ! 

Joseph  A  Jistice.  [  1 83  6 .  ] 


CCCXXVIII. 

With  tearful  eyes  I  look  around  ; 

Life  seems  a  dark  and  stormy  sea  ; 
Yet  midst  the  gloom  I  hear  a  sound, 

A  heavenly  whisper.  Come  to  Me  ! 

It  tells  me  of  a  place  of  rest ; 

It  tells  me  where  my  soul  may  flee  : 
Oh  !  to  the  weary,  faint,  opprest. 

How  sweet  the  bidding.  Come  to  Me  ! 


The  Call.  347 

When  the  poor  heart  with  anguish  learns 
That  earthly  props  resign'd  must  be, 

And  from  each  broken  cistern  turns, 
It  hears  the  accents,  Come  to  Me  ! 

When  against  sin  I  strive  in  vain, 
And  cannot  from  its  yoke  get  free. 

Sinking  beneath  the  heavy  chain, 
The  words  arrest  me,  Come  to  Me  ! 

When  nature  shudders,  loth  to  part 
From  all  I  love,  enjoy,  and  see  ; 

When  a  faint  chill  steals  o'er  my  heart, 
A  sweet  voice  utters,  Come  to  Me  ! 

Come,  for  all  else  must  fail  and  die  ; 

Earth  is  no  resting-place  for  thee  ; 
Heavenward  direct  thy  weeping  eye  ; 

I  am  thy  Portion  ;  Come  to  Me  ! 

O  voice  of  mercy,  voice  of  love  ! 

In  conflict,  grief,  and  agony, 
Support  me,  cheer  me  from  above, 

And  gently  whisper,  Come  to  me  ! 

Charlotte  ElliotL  1834- 


CCCXXIX. 

Come,  take  my  yoke,  the  Saviour  said 
To  follow  Me  be  not  afraid  ; 
For  I  in  heart  am  lowly,  meek, 
And  offer  you  the  rest  you  seek. 

The  yoke  of  Pleasure  may  allure, 
And  promise  bliss  that  will  endure  ; 
But,  when  it  has  thy  youth  despoil'd, 
'Twill  cast  thee  off  as  garment  soil'd. 


34^  The  Book  of  Praise. 

Take  not  on  thee  the  yoke  of  Wealth  ; 
'Twill  eat  thy  soul,  destroy  thy  health, 
And  make  thee  feel  how  cheap  the  cost, 
If  worlds  could  buy  the  peace  it  lost. 

Ambition,  too,  its  yoke  displays. 
And  hangs  out  its  perennial  bays  ; 
Be  not,  poor  soul,  by  it  misled  ; 
I  offer  thee  a  crown  instead. 

Then  take  my  yoke,  'tis  soft  and  light, 
'Twill  ne'er  disturb  thy  rest  at  night. 
But  guide  thee  to  that  world  above 
Where  no  restraint  is  known  but  love. 

Robert  Smith.  1862. 


CCCXXX. 

Behold  !  a  Stranger's  at  the  door  \ 
He  gently  knocks,  has  knock'd  before; 
Has  waited  long,  is  waiting  still ; 
You  treat  no  other  friend  so  ill. 


But  will  He  prove  a  Friend  indeed  ? 
He  will !  the  very  Friend  you  need  ! 
The  Man  of  Nazareth,  'tis  He, 
With  garments  dyed  at  Calvary. 

Oh  lovely  attitude  !  He  stands 
With  melting  heart,  and  laden  hands  ! 
Oh  matchless  kindness  !  and  He  shows 
This  matchless  kindness  to  His  foes. 

Rise,  touch'd  with  gratitude  Divine  ; 
Turn  out  His  enemy  and  thine, 
That  hateful,  hell-born  monster,  Sin  ; 
And  let  the  Heavenly  Stranger  in. 


The  Call.  349 

If  thou  art  poor,  (and  poor  thou  art,;) 
Lo  !  He  has  riches  to  impart  ; 
Not  wealth,  in  which  mean  av'rice  rolls  ; 
O  better  far  !  the  wealth  of  souls  ! 

Thou'rt  blind  ;  He'll  take  the  scales  away, 
And  let  in  everlasting  day  : 
Naked  thou  art ;  but  He  shall  dress 
Thy  blushing  soul  in  Righteousness. 

Art  thou  a  weeper  ?  Grief  shall  fly  ; 
For  who  can  weep  with  Jesus  by  ? 
No  terror  shall  thy  hopes  annoy  ; 
No  tear,  except  the  tear  of  joy. 

Admit  Him,  for  the  human  breast 
Ne'er  entertain'd  so  kind  a  Guest : 
Admit  Him,  for  you  can't  expel ; 
Where'er  He  comes.  He  comes  to  dwell. 


Admit  Him,  ere  His  anger  burn  ; 
His  feet,  departed,  ne'er  return  ! 
Admit  Him  ;  or  the  hour's  at  hand, 
When  at  His  door  denied  you'll  stand. 

Yet  know,  (nor  of  the  terms  complain,) 
If  Jesus  comes.  He  comes  to  reign  ; 
To  reign,  and  with  no  partial  sway  ; 
Thoughts  must  be  slain,  that  disobey ! 

Sovereign  of  souls  !  Thou  Prince  of  Peace  ! 
O  may  Thy  gentle  reign  increase  ! 
Throw  wide  the  door,  each  willing  mind  ! 
And  be  His  empire  all  mankind  ! 

Joseph  Grigg.  1765- 


350  The  Book  of  Praise. 

cccxxxi. 
The  winds  were  howling  o'er  the  deep, 

Each  wave  a  watery  hill  ; 
The  Saviour  waken'd  from  His  sleep  ; 

He  spake,  and  all  was  still. 

The  madman  in  a  tomb  had  made 

His  mansion  of  despair  : 
Woe  to  the  traveller  who  stray'd 

With  heedless  footstep  tJiere  ! 

The  chains  hung  broken  from  his  ann, 
Such  strength  can  hell  supply  ; 

And  fiendish  hate,  and  fierce  alarm, 
Flash'd  from  his  hollow  eye. 

He  met  that  glance,  so  thrilling  sweet ; 

He  heard  those  accents  mild  ; 
And,  melting  at  Messiah's  feet, 

Wept  like  a  weaned  child. 

Oh  !  madder  than  the  raving  man  ! 

Oh  !  deafer  than  the  sea  ! 
How  long  the  time  since  Christ  began 

To  call  in  vain  on  me  ! 

He  call'd  me  when  my  thoughtless  prime 

Was  early  ripe  to  ill ; 
I  pass'd  from  folly  on  to  crime  ; 

And  yet  He  call'd  me  still. 

He  call'd  me  in  the  time  of  dread. 
When  death  was  full  in  view  ; 

I  trembled  on  my  feverish  bed. 
And  rose  to  sin  anew. 


The  Call.  351 

Yet,  could  I  hear  Him  once  again, 

As  I  have  heard  of  old, 
Mcthinks  He  should  not  call  in  vain 

His  wanderer  to  the  fold. 

Oh  Thou  !  that  every  thought  canst  know, 

And  answer  every  prayer. 
Oh  !  give  me  sickness,  want,  or  woe  ; 

But  snatch  me  from  despair  ! 

My  struggling  will  by  grace  control ! 

Renew  my  broken  vow  ! 
What  blessed  light  breaks  on  my  soul  ? 

My  God  !  I  hear  Thee  now  ! 

Bishop  Reginald  Heber.  1827. 


CCCXXXTl. 
"  Was  du  vor  tausend  JahrenT 

A  thousand  years  have  fleeted  ; 

And,  Saviour  !  still  we  see 
Thy  deed  of  love  repeated 

On  all  who  come  to  Thee. 
As  he  who  sat  benighted, 

Afflicted,  poor,  and  blind  ; 
So  now,  (Thy  word  is  plighted,) 

Joy,  light,  and  peace  I  find. 

Dnrk  gloom  my  spirit  filling. 

Beside  the  way  I  sat  ; 
Desire  my  heart  was  thrilling  ; 

But  anguish  more  than  that. 


352  The  Book  of  Praise. 

To  me  no  ray  was  granted, 
Although  I  heard  the  psahns 

The  faithful  sweetly  chanted, 
And  felt  the  waving  palms. 

With  grief  my  heart  was  aching  ; 

O'erwhelming  were  my  woes, 
Till,  heaven-born  courage  taking, 

To  Thee  my  cry  arose  : 
"  O  David's  Son,  relieve  me, 

"  My  bitter  anguish  quell ; 
"  Thy  promised  succour  give  me, 

"And  this  dark  night  dispel !" 

With  tears  that  fast  were  flowing, 

I  sought  Thee  through  the  crowd, 
My  heart  more  tender  growing, 

Until  I  wept  aloud  : 
Oh  !  then  my  grief  diminish'd  ; 

For  then  they  cried  to  me, 
"  Blind  man,  thy  woe  is  finish'd  ; 

"Arise,  He  calleth  thee!" 

I  came  with  steps  that  falter'd  ; 

Thy  course  I  felt  Thee  check  ; 
Then  straight  my  mind  was  alter'd, 

And  bow'd  my  stubborn  neck  : 
Thou  saidst,  "  What  art  thou  seeking  ?" 

"  O  Lord  !  that  I  might  see  ! " 
Oh  !  then  I  heard  Thee  speaking  ; 

"  Beheve,  and  it  shall  be." 

Our  hope,  Lord,  faileth  never. 

When  Thou  Thy  word  dost  plight  : 

M)'  fears  then  ceased  for  ever. 
And  all  my  soul  was  light. 


The  Call.  353 

Thou  gavest  me  Thy  blessing  ; 

From  former  guilt  set  free, 
Now  neavenly  joy  possessing, 
O  Lor^l !  I  follow  Thee  ! 

Frances  Elizabeth  Cox.   1 84  r . 
From  Frederic  de  la  Motte  Foiique. 


CCCXXXIII. 

I  heard  the  voice  of  Jesus  say, 

"  Come  unto  Me  and  rest ; 
'*  Lay  down,  thou  weary  one,  lay  down 

"  Thy  head  upon  My  breast ! " 
I  came  to  Jesus  as  I  was, 

Weary,  and  worn,  and  sad  ; 
T  found  in  Him  a  resting-place, 

And  He  has  made  me  glad. 

I  heard  the  voice  of  Jesus  say, 

"  Behold  !  I  freely  give 
*'  The  living  water  ;  thirsty  one, 

"  Stoop  down,  and  drink,  and  live  ! 
I  came  to  Jesus,  and  I  drank 

Of  that  life-giving  stream  ; 
My  thirst  was  quench'd,  my  soul  revived, 

And  now  I  live  in  Him. 

I  heard  the  voice  of  Jesus  say, 

"  I  am  this  dark  world's  light ; 
"Look  unto  Me,  thy  morn  shall  rise, 

"  And  all  thy  day  be  bright." 
I  look'd  to  Jesus,  and  I  found 

In  Him  my  Star,  my  Sun  ; 
And  in  that  light  of  life  111  walk 

Till  travelling  days  are  done. 

Jloratius  Boiiar.   1S56. 
A  A 


354  The  Book  of  Praise. 

CCCXXXIV. 
In  evil  long  I  took  delight, 

Unawed  by  shame  or  fear, 
Till  a  new  object  struck  my  sight. 

And  stopp'd  my  wild  career  : 
I  saw  One  hanging  on  a  Tree, 
•  In  agonies  and  blood, 

Who  fix'd  His  languid  eyes  on  me, 
As  near  His  Cross  I  stood. 

Sure  never  till  my  latest  breath 

Can  I  forget  that  look  : 
It  seem'd  to  charge  me  with  His  death, 

Though  not  a  word  He  spoke  : 
My  conscience  felt  and  own'd  the  guilt, 

And  plunged  me  in  despair  ; 
I  saw  my  sins  His  Blood  had  spilt. 

And  help'd  to  nail  Him  there. 

Alas  !  I  knew  not  what  I  did  ! 

But  now  my  tears  are  vain  : 
Where  shall  my  trembling  soul  be  hid  ? 

For  I  the  Lord  have  slain  ! 
A  second  look  He  gave,  which  said, 

"  I  freely  all  forgive  ; 
"  This  Blood  is  for  thy  ransom  paid  ; 

"  I  die,  that  thou  may'st  live." 

Thus,  while  His  death  my  sin  displays 

In  all  its  blackest  hue. 
Such  is  the  mystery  of  grace. 

It  seals  my  pardon  too. 
With  pleasing  grief,  and  mournful  joy, 

My  spirit  now  is  fill'd, 
That  I  should  such  a  life  destroy. 

Yet  live  by  Him  I  kill'd.  ^ 

J  oh  n  Newton .  iyj()' 


T^he  Answer.  355 

II. 

THE  ANSWER. 

''  I  will  arise,  and  go  to  my  Father r—{UjK^  xv.  1 8.) 

CCCXXXV. 

And  have  I  measured  half  my  days, 

And  half  my  journey  run, 
Nor  tasted  the  Redeemer's  grace, 

Nor  yet  my  work  begun  ? 

The  morning  of  my  life  is  past. 

The  noon  is  almost  o'er  ; 
The  night  of  death  approaches  fast, 

When  I  can  work  no  more. 

Darkness  He  makes  His  secret  place, 
Thick  clouds  surround  His  Throne  ; 

Nor  can  I  yet  behold  His  face. 
Or  find  the  God  Unknown. 

A  God  that  hides  Himself  He  is. 

Far  off  from  mortal  sight ; 
An  inaccessible  Abyss 

Of  uncreated  Light. 

Far  off  He  is,  yet  always  near ; 

He  fills  both  earth  and  Heaven, 
But  doth  not  to  my  soul  appear, 

My  soul  from  Eden  driven. 

O'er  earth  a  banish'd  man  I  rove, 
But  cannot  feci  Him  nigh  : 
^  Where  is  the  pardonnig  God  of  Love, 
'     Who  stoop'd  for  me  to  die  ? 
A  A  2 


356  The  Book  of  Praise. 

I  sought  Him  in  the  secret  cell 

With  unavaiHng  care : 
Long  did  I  in  the  desert  dwell, 

Nor  could  I  find  Him  there. 

Still  every  means  in  vain  I  try  ; 

I  seek  Him  far  and  near  ; 
Where'er  I  come,  constrain'd  to  cry, 

"  My  Saviour  is  not  here." 

God  is  in  this,  in  every  place  : 

Yet  oh  !  how  dark  and  void 
To  me  !  'tis  one  great  wilderness, 

This  earth  without  my  God  ! 

Empty  of  Him,  who  all  things  fills, 

Till  He  His  Light  impart, 
Till  He  His  glorious  Self  reveals. 

The  veil  is  on  my  heart, 

O  Thou,  who  seest  and  know'st  my  grief, 

Thyself  Unseen,  Unknown  ! 
Pity  my  helpless  unbelief, 

And  take  away  the  stone  ! 

Regard  me  with  a  gracious  eye  ; 

The  long-sought  blessing  give  ; 
And  bid  me,  at  the  point  to  die, 

Behold  Thy  face,  and  live  ! 

A  darker  soul  did  never  yet 

Thy  promised  help  implore  : 
O  !  that  I  now  my  Lord  might  meet, 

And  never  lose  Him  more  ! 

Charles  Wesley.    1749. 


The  A?iswer.  357 


cccxxxvi. 

O  Thou,  whose  tender  mercy  hears 

Contrition's  humble  sigh, 
Whose  hand  indulgent  wipes  the  tears 

From  sorrow's  weeping  eye  ; 

See,  low  before  Thy  throne  of  grace, 

A  wretched  wanderer  mourn  ; 
Hast  Thou  not  bid  mc  seek  Thy  face  ? 

Hast  Thou  not  said,  Return  ? 

And  shall  my  guilty  fears  prevail 

To  drive  me  from  Thy  feet  ? 
Oh  !  let  not  this  dear  refuge  fail, 

This  only  safe  retreai ! 

Absent  from  Thee,  my  Guide,  my  Light, 

Without  one  cheering  ray. 
Through  dangers,  fears,  and  gloomy  night, 

How  desolate  my  way  ! 

O  shine  on  this  benighted  heart. 

With  beams  of  mercy  shine  ! 
And  let  Thy  healing  voice  impart 

A  taste  of  joys  Divine  ! 

Thy  presence  only  can  bestow 

Delights  which  never  cloy  : 
Be  this  my  solace  here  below, 

And  my  eternal  joy  ! 

Anne  Steele.  1760. 


353  The  Book  of  Praise. 


CCCXXXVII. 

When  shall  Thy  love  constrain 
And  force  me  to  Thy  breast  ? 
When  shall  my  soul  return  again 
To  her  eternal  rest  ? 

Ah  !  what  avails  my  strife, 
My  wandering  to  and  fro  ? 
Thou  hast  the  words  of  endless  life ; 
Ah  !  whither  should  I  go  ? 

Thy  condescending  grace 
To  me  did  freely  move  ; 
It  calls  me  still  to  seek  Thy  face, 
And  stoops  to  ask  my  love. 

Lord  !  at  Thy  feet  I  fall ; 
I  groan  to  be  set  free  ; 
I  fain  would  now  obey  the  call, 
And  give  up  all  for  Thee. 

Though  late,  I  all  forsake, 
My  friends,  my  life  resign  : 
Gracious  Redeemer,  take,  O  take. 
And  seal  me  ever  Thine  ! 

Come,  and  possess  me  whole. 
Nor  hence  again  remove  : 
Settle,  and  fix  my  wavering  soul 
With  all  Thy  weight  of  love  ! 

My  one  desire  be  this. 
Thy  only  love  to  know. 
To  seek  and  taste  no  other  bliss, 
No  other  good  below. 


The  Answer.  359 

My  Life,  my  Portion  Thou, 
Thou  all-sufficient  art ; 
My  Hope,  my  heavenly  Treasure,  now 
Enter,  and  keep  my  heart ! 

Charles  Wesley.  1740. 


CCCXXXVIII. 

My  spirit  longeth  for  Thee 
Within  my  troubled  breast, 

Although  I  be  unworthy 
Of  so  Divine  a  Guest. 

Of  so  Divine  a  Guest 

Unworthy  though  I  be, 
Yet  has  my  heart  no  rest 

Unless  it  come  from  Thee. 

Unless  it  come  from  Thee, 

In  vain  1  look  around  ; 
In  all  that  I  can  see 

No  rest  is  to  be  found. 

No  rest  is  to  be  found 
But  in  Thy  blessed  love  : 

O  let  my  wish  be  crown'd, 
And  send  it  from  above  ! 

John  Byrom.  1773. 


CCCXXXIX. 
Weary  of  wandering  from  my  God, 

And  now  made  willing  to  return, 
I  hear,  and  bow  me  to  the  rod  ; 

For  Him,  not  without  hope,  I  mourn 
I  have  an  Advocate  above, 
A  friend  before  the  Throne  of  Love. 


360  The  Book  of  P7'aise. 

O  Jesu,  full  of  pardoning  grace, 
More  full  of  grace  than  I  of  sin  ; 

Yet  once  again  I  seek  Thy  face, 
Open  Thine  arms  and  take  me  in, 

And  freely  my  backslidings  heal, 

And  love  the  faithless  sinner  still ! 

Thou  know'st  the  way  to  bring  me  back, 

My  fallen  spirit  to  restore  ; 
O,  for  Thy  Truth  and  Mercy's  sake. 

Forgive,  and  bid  me  sin  no  more  ! 
The  ruins  of  my  soul  repair. 
And  make  my  heart  an  house  of  prayer ! 

The  stone  to  flesh  again  convert. 
The  veil  of  sin  once  more  remove  ; 

Drop  Thy  warm  Blood  upon  my  heart, 
And  melt  it  with  Thy  dying  love  : 

This  rebel  heart  by  love  subdue, 

And  make  it  soft,  and  make  it  new  ! 

Give  to  mine  eyes  refreshing  tears, 
And  kindle  my  relentings  now  ; 

Fill  all  my  soul  with  filial  fears. 
To  Thy  sweet  yoke  my  spirit  bow  ; 

Bend  by  Thy  grace,  O  !  bend,  or  break 

The  iron  sinew  in  my  neck  ! 

Ah  !  give  me,  Lord,  the  tender  heart. 
That  trembles  at  th'  approach  of  sin  ; 

A  godly  fear  of  sin  impart. 

Implant,  and  root  it  deep  within  ; 

That  I  may  dread  Thy  gracious  power. 

And  never  dare  offend  Thee  more  ! 

Charles  Wesley.     1749. 


The  Ajtswer.  361 


CCCXL. 

Hear,  gracious  God  !  a  sinners  cry. 
For  I  have  nowhere  else  to  fly ; 
My  hope,  my  only  hope's  in  Thee  ; 
O  God,  be  merciful  to  me  ! 

To  Thee  I  come,  a  sinner  poor, 
And  wait  for  mercy  at  Thy  door  ; 
Indeed,  I've  nowhere  else  to  flee  : 
O  God,  be  merciful  to  me  ! 

To  Thee  I  come,  a  sinner  weak, 
And  scarce  know  how  to  pray  or  speak ; 
From  fear  and  weakness  set  me  free ; 
O  God,  be  merciful  to  me  ! 

To  Thee  I  come,  a  sinner  vile ; 
Upon  mc.  Lord,  vouchsafe  to  smile  ! 
Mercy  alone  I  make  my  plea ; 
O  God,  be  merciful  to  me  ! 

To  Thee  I  come,  a  sinner  great. 
And  well  Thou  knowest  all  my  state  ; 
Yet  full  forgiveness  is  with  Thee  ; 
O  God,  be  merciful  to  me  ! 

To  Thee  I  come,  a  sinner  lost, 
Nor  have  I  ought  wherein  to  trust ; 
But  where  Thou  art,  Lord,  I  would  be  ; 
O  God,  be  merciful  to  me  ! 

To  glory  bring  me,  Lord,  at  last  ; 
And  there,  when  all  my  fears  are  past. 
With  all  the  saints  I'll  then  agree, 
God  has  been  merciful  to  me  ! 

Samuel  Medley.  1 789. 


362  The  Book  of  Praise. 


CCCXLI. 

Hear,  gracious  God  !  my  humble  moan  ; ' 

To  Thee  I  breathe  my  sighs  : 
When  will  the  mournful  night  be  gone, 

And  when  my  joys  arise  ? 

My  God  !  Oh  !  could  I  make  the  claim, 

My  Father  and  my  Friend  ! 
And  call  Thee  mine,  by  every  name 

On  which  Thy  saints  depend  ; 

By  every  name  of  power  and  love 

I  would  Thy  grace  entreat ; 
Nor  should  my  humble  hopes  remove, 

Nor  leave  Thy  sacred  seat. 

Yet,  though  my  soul  in  darkness  mourns, 

Thy  word  is  all  my  stay  ; 
Here  I  would  rest  till  light  returns. 

Thy  Presence  makes  my  day. 

Speak,  Lord,  and  bid  celestial  peace 

Relieve  my  aching  heart ! 
O  smile,  and  bid  my  sorrows  cease, 

And  all  the  gloom  depart  ! 

Then  shall  my  drooping  spirit  rise, 

And  bless  Thy  healing  rays. 
And  change  these  deep  complaining  sighs 

For  songs  of  sacred  praise  ! 

Amie  Steele.  1760. 


The  Ansive?'.  363 

CCCXLTT. 

And  shall  I  sit  alone, 
Oppress'd  with  grief  and  fear, 
To  God  my  Father  make  my  moan. 
And  He  refuse  to  hear  ? 

If  He  my  Father  be. 
His  pity  He  will  show, 
From  cruel  bondage  set  me  free. 
And  inward  peace  bestow. 

If  still  He  silence  keep, 
'Tis  but  my  faith  to  try ; 
He  knows  and  feels,  whene'er  I  weep, 
And  softens  every  sigh. 

Then  will  I  humbly  wait, 
Nor  once  indulge  despair  ; 
My  sins  are  great,  but  not  so  great 
As  His  compassions  are. 

Be?ijainin  Bcddome.  [18 18. J 


CCCXLIII. 

O  that  my  load  of  sin  were  gone  ! 

O  that  I  could  at  last  submit 
At  Jesus'  feet  to  lay  it  down, 

To  lay  my  soul  at  Jesus'  feet ! 

When  shall  mine  eyes  behold  the  Lamb, 
The  God  of  my  salvation  see  ? 

Weary,  O  Lord,  Thou  know'st  I  am  ; 
Yet  still  I  cannot  come  to  Thee. 

Rest  for  my  soul  I  long  to  find  ; 

Saviour  !  (if  mine  indeed  Thou  art,) 
Give  me  Thy  meek  and  lowly  mind, 

And  stamp  Thy  image  on  my  heart ! 


364  The  Book  of  Praise. 

Fain  would  I  learn  of  Thee,  my  God, 
Thy  light  and  easy  burden  prove, 

The  cross,  all  stain'd  with  hallow'd  blood- 
The  labour  of  Thy  dying  love. 

This  moment  would  I  take  it  up, 
And  after  my  dear  Master  bear  ; 

With  Thee  ascend  to  Calvary's  top, 
And  bow  my  head  and  suffer  there. 

I  would  ;  but  Thou  must  give  the  power, 
My  heart  from  every  sin  release  : 

Bring  near,  bring  near  the  joyful  hour, 
And  fill  me  with  Thy  perfect  peace  ! 

Come,  Lord,  the  drooping  sinner  cheer, 
Nor  let  Thy  chariot-wheels  delay  ! 

Appear,  in  my  poor  heart  appear  ! 
My  God,  my  Saviour,  come  away  ! 

Charles  Wesley.  1742. 


CCCXLIV. 

Come,  let  us  to  the  Lord  our  God 
With  contrite  hearts  return  ; 

Our  God  is  gracious,  nor  will  leave 
The  desolate  to  mourn. 

His  voice  commands  the  tempest  forth. 

And  stills  the  stormy  wave  ; 
And,  though  His  arm  be  strong  to  smite, 

'Tis  also  strong  to  save. 

Long  hath  the  night  of  sorrow  reign'd  ; 

The  dawn  shall  bring  us  light  ; 
God  shall  appear,  and  we  shall  rise 

With  gladness  in  His  sight. 


Faith.  365 

Our  hearts,  if  God  we  seek  to  know, 

Shall  know  Him,  and  rejoice  ; 
His  coming  Hke  the  morn  shall  be. 

Like  morning  songs  His  voice. 

As  dew  upon  the  tender  herb, 

Diffusing  fragrance  round  ; 
As  showers  that  usher  in  the  spring, 

And  cheer  the  thirsty  ground  ; 

So  shall  His  Presence  bless  our  souls, 

And  shed  a  joyful  light  ; 
That  hallow'd  morn  shall  chase  away 

The  sorrows  of  the  night. 

John  Morrison,   1 770. 


III. 

FAITH. 

"  Looking  unto  Jesus,  the  A  uthor  and  Finisher  of 
our  Faithr—i^iYAi.  xii.  2.) 

CCCXLV. 

Come,  O  thou  Traveller  unknown, 
Whom  still  I  hold,  but  cannot  see, 

My  company  before  is  gone, 
And  I  am  left  alone  with  Thee  ; 

With  Thee  all  night  I  mean  to  stay, 

And  wrestle  till  the  break  of  day. 

I  need  not  tell  Thee  who  I  am. 

My  misery  or  sin  declare  ; 
Thyself  hast  call'd  me  by  my  name  ; 

Look  on  Thy  hands,  and  read  it  there  ! 
But  Wlio,  I  ask  Thee,  Who  art  Thou  t 
Tell  me  Thy  Name,  and  tell  me  now. 


■566  The  Book  of  Praise. 

In  vain  Thou  strugglest  to  get  free, 
I  never  will  unloose  my  hold  ; 

Art  Thou  the  Man  that  died  for  me  ? 
The  secret  of  Thy  love  unfold. 

Wrestling,  I  will  not  let  Thee  go, 

Till  I  Thy  Name,  Thy  Nature  know. 

Wilt  Thou  not  yet  to  me  reveal 
Thy  new,  unutterable  Name  ? 

Tell  me,  I  still  beseech  Thee,  tell : 
To  know  it  now,  resolved  I  am  : 

Wrestling,  I  will  not  let  Thee  go, 

Till  I  Thy  Name,  Thy  Nature  know. 

'Tis  all  in  vain  to  hold  Thy  tongue, 
Or  touch  the  hollow  of  my  thigh  ; 

Though  every  sinew  be  unstrung, 
Out  of  my  arms  Thou  shalt  not  fly  : 

Wrestling,  I  will  not  let  Thee  go, 

Till  I  Thy  Name,  Thy  Nature  know. 

What  though  my  shrinking  flesh  complain, 
And  murmur  to  contend  so  long  ? 

I  rise  superior  to  my  pain  ; 

When  I  am  weak,  then  I  am  strong : 

And  when  my  all  of  strength  shall  fail, 

I  shall  with  the  God-Man  prevail. 

My  strength  is  gone  ;  my  nature  dies  ; 

I  sink  beneath  Thy  weighty  hand, 
Faint  to  revive,  and  fall  to  rise  ; 

I  fall,  and  yet  by  faith  I  stand  : 
I  stand,  and  will  not  let  Thee  go. 
Till  I  Thy  Name,  Thy  Nature  know. 


Faith.  367 

Yield  to  me  now,  for  I  am  weak, 

But  confident  in  self-despair  ; 
Speak  to  my  heart,  in  blessings  speak, 

Be  conquer'd  by  my  instant  prayer  ! 
Speak,  or  Thou  never  hence  shalt  move, 
And  tell  me,  if  Thy  Name  is  Love  ? 


'Tis  Love  !  'tis  Love  !    Thou  diedst  for  me  J 
I  hear  Thy  whisper  in  my  heart ! 

The  morning  breaks,  the  shadows  flee  ; 
Pure  universal  Love  Thou  art  ! 

To  me,  to  all.  Thy  bowels  move  ; 

Thy  Nature,  and  Thy  Name,  is  Love  ! 

My  prayer  hath  power  with  God  ;  the  grace 

Unspeakable  I  now  receive  ; 
Through  faith  I  see  Thee  face  to  face, 

I  see  Thee  face  to  face,  and  live  : 
In  vain  I  have  not  wept  and  strove  ; 
Thy  Nature,  and  Thy  Name,  is  Love. 

I  know  Thee,  Saviour,  Who  Thou  art  ; 

Jesus,  the  feeble  sinner's  Friend  ! 
Nor  wilt  Thou  with  the  night  depart, 

But  stay,  and  love  me  to  the  end  ! 
Thy  mercies  never  shall  remove. 
Thy  Nature,  and  Thy  Name,  is  Love  ! 

The  Sun  of  Righteousness  on  me 

Hath  rose,  with  healing  in  His  wings  ; 

Wither'd  my  nature's  strength,  from  Thee 
I\Ty  soul  its  life  and  succour  brings  ; 

My  help  is  all  laid  up  above  ; 

Thy  Nature,  and  Thy  Name,  is  Love. 


368  The  Book  of  Praise. 

Contented  now  upon  my  thigh 

I  halt,  till  life's  short  journey  end  ; 

All  helplessness,  all  weakness,  I 

On  Thee  alone  for  strength  depend  ; 

Nor  have  I  power  from  Thee  to  move  ; 

Thy  Nature,  and  Thy  Name,  is  Love. 

Lame  as  I  am,  I  take  the  prey. 

Hell,  earth,  and  sin,  with  ease  o'ercome  ; 

I  leap  for  joy,  pursue  my  way. 

And  as  a  bounding  hart  fly  home  ! 

Through  all  eternity  to  prove, 

Thy  Nature  and  Thy  Name  is  Love  ! 

Charles  Wesley.  1742. 


CCCXLVI. 

Hark,  my  soul  !  it  is  the  Lord, 
'Tis  thy  Saviour,  hear  His  word : 
Jesus  speaks,  and  speaks  to  thee  ; 
"  Say,  poor  sinner,  lov'st  thou  Me  ? 

"  I  delivered  thee  when  bound, 
"  And,  when  bleeding,  heal'd  thy  wound 
"  Sought  thee  wandering,  set  thee  right, 
"  Turn'd  thy  darkness  into  light. 

"  Can  a  woman's  tender  care 

"  Cease  towards  the  child  she  bare  1 

"  Yes,  she  may  forgetful  be  ; 

"  Yet  will  I  remember  thee  ! 

"  Mine  is  an  unchanging  love, 
"  Higher  than  the  heights  above, 
"  Deeper  than  the  depths  beneath, 
"  Free  and  faithful,  strong  as  death. 


Faith.  369 

"  Thou  shalt  see  my  glory  soon, 
"  When  the  work  of  grace  is  done  ; 
"  Partner  of  my  throne  shalt  be  ; 
"  Say,  poor  sinner,  lov'st  thou  Me  ?" 

Lord  !  it  is  my  chief  complaint, 
That  my  love  is  weak  and  faint ; 
Yet  I  love  Thee  and  adore  ! 
Oh  !  for  grace  to  love  Thee  more  ! 

Williajn  Cow  per.  1779- 


CCCXLVII. 

And  can  it  be,  that  I  should  gain 
An  interest  in  the  Saviour's  blood  ? 

Died  He  for  me,  who  caus'd  His  pain, 
For  me,  who  Him  to  death  pursued  ? 

Amazing  Love  !  how  can  it  be. 

That  Thou,  my  God,  shouldst  die  for  me  ? 

Tis  mystery  all  !   Th'  Immortal  dies  ! 

Who  can  explore  His  strange  design  ? 
In  vain  the  first-born  seraph  tries 

To  sound  the  depths  of  Love  Divine. 
'Tis  mercy  all  !    Let  earth  adore  ! 
Let  angel  minds  enquire  no  more  ! 

He  left  His  Father  s  throne  above, 
(So  free,  so  infinite  His  grace  ;) 

Emptied  Himself  of  all  but  love, 
And  bled  for  Adam's  helpless  race. 

'Tis  mercy  all,  immense  and  free  ! 

For  O,  my  God  !  it  found  out  me  ! 

B  15 


370  The  Book  of  Praise. 

Long  my  imprison'd  spirit  lay, 

Fast  bound  in  sin  and  nature's  night ; 

Thine  eye  diffus'd  a  quickening  ray  ; 
I  woke  ;  the  dungeon  flam'd  with  hght : 

My  chains  fell  off,  my  heart  was  free, 

I  rose,  went  forth,  and  follow'd  Thee  ! 

Still  the  small  inward  voice  I  hear, 
That  whispers  all  my  sins  forgiven  ; 

Still  the  atoning  Blood  is  near, 
That  quench'd  the  wrath  of  hostile  Heaven  ; 

I  feel  the  life  His  wounds  impart ; 

I  feel  my  Saviour  in  my  heart. 

No  condemnation  now  I  dread  ; 

Jesus,  and  all  in  Him,  is  mine  ! 
Alive  in  Him,  my  living  Head, 

And  cloth'd  in  righteousness  Divine, 
Bold  I  approach  th'  Eternal  Throne, 
And  claim  the  crown,  through  Christ  my  own. 
Charles  Wesley.  1739. 

CCCXLVIII. 
Now  I  have  found  the  ground  wherein 

Sure  my  soul's  anchor  may  remain  ; 
The  wounds  of  Jesus,  for  my  sin 

Before  the  world's  foundation  slain  ; 
Whose  mercy  shall  unshaken  stay 
When  heaven  and  earth  are  fled  away. 

Father,  Thine  everlasting  grace 
Our  scanty  thought  surpasses  far  ; 

Thy  heart  still  melts  with  tenderness  ; 
Thine  arms  of  love  still  open  are. 

Returning  sinners  to  receive, 

That  mercy  they  may  taste  and  live. 


Faith.  371 

O  Love  !  Thou  bottomless  abyss  ! 

My  sins  are  swallow'd  up  in  thee  : 
Cover'd  is  my  unrighteousness, 

Nor  spot  of  guilt  remains  on  me  : 
While  Jesus'  Blood,  through  earth  and  skies, 
Mercy,  free  boundless  mercy,  cries  ! 

With  faith  I  plunge  me  in  this  sea  ; 

Here  is  my  hope,  my  joy,  my  rest  ; 
Hither,  when  hell  assails,  I  flee, 

I  look  into  my  Saviour's  breast : 
Away,  sad  doubt,  and  anxious  fear  ! 
Mercy  is  all  that's  written  there  ! 

Though  waves  and  storms  go  o'er  my  head  ; 

Though  strength,  and  health,  and  friends  be  gone ; 
Though  joys  be  wither'd  all  and  dead  ; 

Though  every  comfort  be  withdrawn  ; 
On  this  my  steadfast  soul  relies  ; 
Father  !  Thy  mercy  never  dies. 

Fix'd  on  this  ground  will  I  remain, 

Though  my  heart  fail  and  flesh  decay  ; 
This  anchor  shall  my  soul  sustain, 

When  earth's  foundations  melt  away  : 
Mercy's  full  power  I  then  shall  prove, 
Loved  with  an  everlasting  love. 

John  We  shy.  1740. 
{From  J.  A.  Rathe) 

CCCXLIX. 

O  Thou,  the  contrite  sinners'  Friend, 
Who  loving,  lov'st  them  to  the  end, 
On  this  alone  my  hopes  depend, 
That  Thou  wilt  plead  for  me  ! 
R  15  2 


372  The  Book  of  Pi'aise. 

When,  weary  in  the  Christian  race, 

Far  off  appears  my  resting-place. 

And  fainting  I  mistrust  Thy  grace, 

Then,  Saviour,  plead  for  me  ! 

When  I  have  err'd  and  gone  astray 
Afar  from  Thine  and  Wisdom's  way, 
And  see  no  glimmering  guiding  ray, 
Still,  Saviour,  plead  for  me  ! 

When  Satan,  by  my  sins  made  bold, 
Strives  from  Thy  cross  to  loose  my  hold. 
Then  with  Thy  pitying  arms  enfold. 
And  plead,  O  plead  for  me  ! 

And  when  my  dying  hour  draws  near, 
Darken'd  with  anguish,  guilt,  and  fear, 
Then  to  my  fainting  sight  appear, 
Pleading  in  Heaven  for  me  ! 

When  the  full  light  of  heavenly  day 
Reveals  my  sins  in  dread  array. 
Say  Thou  hast  wash'd  them  all  away  ; 
O  say.  Thou  plead'st  for  me  ! 

Charlotte  Elliott.  [1837.] 


CCCL. 

O  Holy  Saviour,  Friend  unseen, 
The  faint,  the  weak,  on  Thee  may  lean  : 
Help  me,  throughout  life's  varying  scene, 
By  faith  to  chng  to  Thee  ! 

Blest  with  communion  so  Divine, 
Take  what  Thou  wilt,  shall  I  repine, 
When,  as  the  branches  to  the  vine, 
My  soul  may  cling  to  Thee  ? 


Faith.  373 

Far  from  her  home,  fatigued,  opprcst. 
Here  she  has  found  a  place  of  rest, 
An  exile  still,  yet  not  unblest 
While  she  can  cling  to  Thee  ) 

Without  a  murmur  I  dismiss 
My  former  dreams  of  earthly  bliss  ; 
My  joy,  my  recompense  be  this, 
Each  hour  to  chng  to  Thee  ! 

What  though  the  world  deceitful  prove, 
And  earthly  friends  and  joys  remove  ? 
With  patient  uncomplaining  love 
Still  would  I  cling  to  Thee  ! 

Oft  when  I  seem  to  tread  alone 
Some  barren  waste  with  thorns  o'ergrown, 
A  voice  of  lore,  in  gentlest  tone. 
Whispers,  "  Still  cling  to  Me  ! " 

Though  faith  and  hope  awhile  be  tried, 
I  ask  not,  need  not,  aught  beside  : 
How  safe,  how  calm,  how  satisfied, 
The  souls  that  cling  to  Thee  ! 

They  fear  not  life's  rough  storms  to  brave, 
Since  Thou  art  near,  and  strong  to  save  ; 
Nor  shudder  e'en  at  death's  dark  wave  ; 
Because  they  cling  to  Thee  ! 

Blest  is  my  lot,  whate'cr  befal  : 
What  can  disturb  mc,  who  appal, 
While,  as  my  strength,  my  rock,  my  all. 
Saviour  !   I  cling  to  Thee  ? 

Charlotte  Elliott.  1834. 


374  The  Book  of  Praise. 

CCCI.I. 

Jesu,  my  strength,  my  hope, 

On  Thee  I  cast  my  care, 
With  humble  confidence  look  up, 

And  know,  Thou  hear'st  my  prayer. 

Give  me  on  Thee  to  wait 

Till  I  can  all  things  do, 
On  Thee,  Almighty  to  create  ! 

Almighty  to  renew  ! 

I  want  a  sober  mind, 

A  self-renouncing  will. 
That  tramples  down  and  casts  behind 

The  baits  of  pleasing  ill  : 

A  soul  inured  to  pain, 

To  hardship,  grief,  and  loss  ; 
Bold  to  take  up,  firm  to  sustain, 

The  consecrated  cross. 

I  want  a  godly  fear, 

A  quick-discerning  eye. 
That  looks  to  Thee  when  sin  is  near, 

And  sees  the  Tempter  fly  ; 

A  spirit  still  prepared, 

And  arm'd  with  jealous  care, 
For  ever  standing  on  its  guard, 

And  watching  unto  prayer. 

I  want  a  heart  to  pray. 

To  pray  and  never  cease. 
Never  to  murmur  at  Thy  stay, 

Or  wish  my  sufferings  less  ; 

This  blessing,  above  all, 

Always  to  pray,  I  want. 
Out  of  the  deep  on  Thee  to  call, 

And  never,  never  faint. 


Love.  375 

I  want  a  true  regard, 

A  single,  steady  aim, 
Unmov'd  by  threat'ning  or  reward, 

To  Thee  and  Thy  great  Name  ; 

A  jealous,  just  concern 

For  Thine  immortal  praise  ; 
A  pure  desire  that  all  may  learn 

And  glorify  Thy  grace. 

I  rest  upon  Thy  word  ; 

Thy  promise  is  for  me  ; 
My  succour  and  salvation,  Lord, 

Shall  surely  come  from  Thee. 

But  let  me  still  abide, 

Nor  from  my  hope  remove. 
Till  Thou  my  patient  spirit  guide 

Into  Thy  perfect  love  ! 

Charles  Wesley.  1742. 


IV. 

LOVE. 

If  ye  love  Me,  keep  My  cojmnajidnicnts'' 

(John  xiv.  15. 

CCCLII. 

Jesus,  my  all,  to  Heaven  is  gone  ; 
He  that  I  placed  my  hopes  upon  ; 
His  track  I  see  ;  and  I'll  pursue 
The  narrow  way,  till  Him  I  view. 

The  way  the  holy  Prophets  went, 
The  way  that  leads  from  banishment, 
The  King's  high-way  of  holiness, 
I'll  go  ;  for  all  the  paths  are  peace. 


^il^  The  Book  of  Praise. 

No  stranger  may  proceed  therein, 
No  lover  of  the  world  and  sin  ; 
No  lion,  no  devouring  care, 
No  ravenous  tiger  shall  be  there. 

No  :  nothing  may  go  up  thereon 
But  travelling  souls  ;  and  I  am  one  : 
Wayfaring  men,  to  Canaan  bound, 
Shall  only  in  the  way  be  found. 

Nor  fools,  by  carnal  men  esteem'd, 
Shall  err  therein  ;  but  they,  redeem'd 
In  Jesu's  blood,  shall  show  their  right 
To  travel  there,  till  HeaVn's  in  sight. 

This  is  the  way  I  long  have  sought. 
And  mourn'd,  because  I  found  it  not ; 
My  grief,  my  burden,  long  have  been 
Because  I  could  not  cease  from  sin. 

The  more  I  strove  against  its  power, 
I  sinn'd  and  stumbled  but  the  more  ; 
Till  late  I  heard  my  Saviour  say, 
"  Come  hither,  soul !  for  I'm  the  Way  !  " 

Lo  !  glad  I  come  ;  and  Thou,  dear  Lamb, 
Shalt  take  me  to  Thee,  as  I  am  : 
Nothing  but  sin  I  Thee  can  give  ; 
Yet  help  me,  and  Thy  praise  I'll  live  ! 


I'll  tell  to  all  poor  sinners  round 
What  a  dear  Saviour  I  have  found  ; 
I'll  point  to  Thy  Redeeming  blood. 
And  say,  "  Behold  the  Way  to  God  !" 

John  Cennick.  1743. 


Love.  377 


CCCLIII. 


Go,  worship  at  Immanuers  feet ; 
See,  in  His  face  what  wonders  meet  ; 
Earth  is  too  narrow  to  express 
His  worth,  His  glory,  or  His  grace  ! 

The  whole  creation  can  afford 
But  some  faint  shadows  of  my  Lord  ; 
Nature,  to  make  His  beauties  known, 
Must  mingle  colours  not  her  own. 

Is  He  compared  to  Wine  or  Bread  ? 
Dear  Lord,  our  souls  would  thus  be  fed  : 
That  flesh,  that  dying  Blood  of  Thine, 
Is  Bread  of  Life,  is  heavenly  Wine. 

Is  He  a  Tree  ?    The  world  receives 
Salvation  from  His  heahng  leaves  : 
That  righteous  Branch,  that  fruitful  bough, 
Is  David's  root  and  offspring  too. 

Is  he  a  Rose  ?    Not  Sharon  yields 
Such  fragrancy  in  all  her  fields  ; 
Or  if  the  Lily  He  assume, 
The  valleys  bless  the  rich  perfume. 

Is  He  a  Vine  ?    His  heavenly  root 
Supplies  the  boughs  with  life  and  fruit : 
O  let  a  lasting  union  join 
My  soul  the  branch  to  Christ  the  Vine  ! 

Is  He  the  Head  ?   Each  member  lives, 
And  owns  the  vital  power  He  gives  ; 
The  Saints  below  and  Saints  above 
Joined  by  His  Spirit  and  His  love. 


378  The  Book  of  Praise. 

Is  He  a  Fountain  ?    There  I  bathe, 
And  heal  the  plague  of  sin  and  death  ; 
These  waters  all  my  soul  renew, 
And  cleanse  my  spotted  garments  too. 


Is  He  a  Fire  ?    He'll  purge  my  dross  ; 
But  the  true  gold  sustains  no  loss  : 
Like  a  Refiner  shall  He  sit, 
And  tread  the  refuse  with  His  feet. 

Is  He  a  Rock  ?    How  firm  He  proves  ! 
The  Rock  of  Ages  never  moves  : 
Yet  the  sweet  streams,  that  from  Him  flow, 
Attend  us  all  the  desert  through. 

Is  He  a  Way  ?    He  leads  to  God  ; 
The  path  is  drawn  in  lines  of  Blood  ; 
There  would  I  Avalk  with  hope  and  zeal, 
Till  I  arrive  at  Sion's  hill. 

Is  He  a  Door  ?    I'll  enter  in  ; 
Behold  the  pastures  large  and  green  ! 
A  paradise  divinely  fair  ; 
None  but  the  sheep  have  freedom  there. 

Is  He  design'd  a  Corner-stone, 
For  men  to  build  their  Heaven  upon  ? 
I'll  make  Him  my  Foundation  too  ; 
Nor  fear  the  plots  of  hell  below. 

Is  He  a  Temple  ?    I  adore 
The  indwelling  majesty  and  power  ; 
And  still  to  His  Most  Holy  Place, 
Whene'er  I  pray,  I  turn  my  face. 


Love,  379 

Is  He  a  Star  ?    He  breaks  the  night, 
Piercing  the  shades  with  dawning  hght ; 
I  know  His  glories  from  afar, 
I  know  the  bright,  the  morning  Star ! 

Is  He  a  Sun  ?    His  beams  are  grace, 
His  course  is  joy  and  Righteousness  : 
Nations  rejoice,  when  He  appears 
To  chase  their  clouds  and  dry  their  tears. 

Oh  !  let  me  climb  those  higher  skies 
Where  storms  and  darkness  never  rise  ! 
There  He  displays  His  powers  abroad, 
And  shines  and  reigns,  th'  incarnate  God. 

Nor  earth,  nor  seas,  nor  sun,  nor  stars. 
Nor  heaven  His  full  resemblance  bears  : 
His  beauties  we  can  never  trace. 
Till  we  behold  Him  face  to  face. 

Isaac  Watts.  170Q. 


CCCLIV. 

Compared  with  Christ,  in  all  beside 

No  comeliness  I  see  ; 
The  one  thing  needful,  dearest  Lord 

Is  to  be  one  with  Thee. 
The  sense  of  Thy  expiring  Love 

Into  my  soul  convey  ; 
Thyself  bestow  :  for  Thee  alone 

I  absolutely  pray. 

Whatever  else  Thy  will  withholds, 
Here  grant  me  to  succeed  ! 

O  let  Thyself  my  portion  be, 
And  I  am  blest  indeed  ! 


380  The  Book  of  Praise. 

Less  than  Thyself  will  not  suffice 

My  comfort  to  restore  ; 
More  than  Thyself  I  cannot  have  ; 

And  Thou  canst  give  no  more. 

Loved  of  my  God,  for  Him  again 

With  love  intense  I  burn  ; 
Chosen  of  Thee  ere  time  began, 

I  choose  Thee  in  return  ! 
Whate'er  consists  not  with  Thy  love, 

O  !  teach  me  to  resign  ! 
I'm  rich  to  all  th'  intents  of  bliss, 

If  Thou,  O  God,  art  mine ! 

Augustus  Montague  Toplady.  1772. 


CCCLV. 

Jesu  !  who  for  my  transgression 
Didst  the  shameful  cross  endure. 

And  didst  there  the  blest  possession 
Of  Thy  joys  to  me  insure  ; 

May  my  praise  be  ever  telling 

Of  Thy  love,  all  love  excelling ! 

Wondrous  woes  that  brought  salvation  ! 

Wondrous  grace  to  sinners  shown  ! 
Heaven  is  wrapt  in  contemplation 

Of  His  love,  whom  men  disown  ! 
Oh  my  soul !  wilt  thou  disown  Him  ? 
Wilt  not  thou,  my  heart,  enthrone  Him  ? 

Who  but  He  can  bless  thy  weeping  ? 

Who  but  He  can  soothe  thy  grief? 
Only  safe  beneath  His  keeping, 

Thou  in  Him  hast  sure  relief : 


Love.  3^51 


To  the  cross  He  came  to  bless  thee ; 
Let  His  love,  my  soul,  possess  thee  ! 

Lord  !  each  thought  and  inclination. 

All  my  heart  and  will  inspire, 
That  my  soul,  Thy  new  creation, 

Thee  may  serve  with  pure  desire  ; 
Daily  Thy  great  love  reviewing, 
Daily  thus  my  sins  subduing  ! 

A  rthiir  Tozer  Russell,  1 85 1 . 


CCCLVI, 

Eternal  God,  of  beings  First, 
Of  all  created  good  the  Spring, 

For  Thee  I  long,  for  Thee  I  thirst. 
My  Love,  my  Saviour,  and  my  King 

Thine  is  a  never-faihng  store  ; 

If  God  be  mine,  I  ask  no  more. 


The  fairest  world  of  light  on  high 
Reflection  makes  but  faint  of  Thine  ; 

The  glorious  tenants  of  the  sky 

In  God's  own  beams  transported  shine  : 

But,  shouldst  Thou  wrap  Thy  face  in  shade, 

Soon  all  their  life  and  lustre  fade. 

Thy  Presence  makes  celestial  day, 

And  fills  each  raptur'd  soul  with  bliss  ; 

Night  would  prevail,  were  God  away, 
And  spirits  pine  in  Paradise  ! 

In  vain  would  all  the  angels  try 

To  fill  Thy  room,  Thy  lack  supply. 


382  The  Book  of  Praise, 

And,  sure,  from  Heav'n  we  turn  our  eyes 
In  vain,  to  seek  for  bliss  below  ; 

The  tree  of  Life  can't  root  nor  rise. 
Nor  in  this  blasted  region  grow  : 

The  wealth  of  this  poor  barren  clod 

Can  ne'er  make  up  the  want  of  God. 

But,  Lord  !  in  Thee  the  thirsty  soul 
Will  meet  with  full,  with  rich  supplies  ! 

Thy  smiles  will  all  her  fears  control, 
Thy  beauties  feast  her  ravish'd  eyes  : 

To  failing  flesh  and  fainting  hearts 

Thy  favour  life  and  strength  imparts  ! 

Simon  Browne.  1 720. 


CCCLVIT. 

Christ,  my  hidden  Life,  appear, 

Soul  of  my  inmost  soul ! 
Light  of  life,  the  mourner  cheer. 

And  make  the  sinner  whole  ! 
Now  in  me  Thyself  display  ; 
Surely  Thou  in  all  things  art ; 
I  from  all  things  turn  away 

To  seek  Thee  in  my  heart ! 

Open,  Lord,  my  inward  ear. 
And  bid  my  heart  rejoice  ! 
Bid  my  quiet  spirit  hear 

Thy  comfortable  voice  ; 
Never  in  the  whirlwind  found, 
Or  where  earthquakes  rock  the  place 
Still  and  silent  is  the  sound, 
The  whisper  of  Thy  grace  ! 


Love.  383 

From  the  world  of  sin,  and  noise, 

And  hurry,  I  withdraw  ; 
For  the  small  and  inward  Voice 

I  wait  with  humble  awe  : 
Silent  am  I  now  and  still  ; 
Dare  not  in  Thy  presence  move  : 
To  my  waiting  soul  reveal 

The  secret  of  Thy  love  ! 

Thou  hast  undertook  for  me  ; 

For  me  to  death  wast  sold ; 
Wisdom  in  a  mystery 

Of  bleeding  love  unfold  ! 
Teach  the  lesson  of  Thy  cross  ; 
Let  me  die,  with  Thee  to  reign  ! 
All  things  let  me  count  but  loss. 

So  I  may  Thee  regain  ! 

Show  me,  as  my  soul  can  bear, 

The  depth  of  inbred  sin  ; 
All  the  unbelief  declare. 

The  pride  that  lurks  within  : 
Take  me,  whom  Thyself  hast  bought ! 
Bring  into  captivity 
Every  high  aspiring  thought, 

That  would  not  stoop  to  Thee  ! 

Lord,  my  time  is  in  Thy  hand  ; 

My  soul  to  Thee  convert ! 
Thou  canst  make  me  understand, 

Though  I  am  slow  of  heart. 
Thine,  in  whom  I  live  and  move, 
Thine  the  work,  the  power  is  Thine  ! 
Thou  art  Wisdom,  Power,  and  Love  ; 

And  all  thou  art  is  mine  ! 

Charles  Wesley.   1742, 


384  The  Book  of  Praise. 

CCCLVIII. 

Source  of  good,  whose  power  controls 
Every  movement  of  our  souls  ; 
Wind  that  quickens  where  it  blows  ; 
Comforter  of  human  woes  ; 
Lamp  of  God,  whose  ray  serene 
In  the  darkest  night  is  seen  ; 
Come,  inspire  my  feeble  strain. 
That  I  may  not  sing  in  vain  ! 

God's  own  Finger,  skill'd  to  teach 
Tongues  of  every  land  and  speech ; 
Balsam  of  the  wounded  soul, 
Binding  up,  and  making  whole  ; 
Flame  of  pure  and  holy  love  ; 
Strength  of  all  that  live  and  move  ■, 
Come  !  Thy  gifts  and  fire  impart ; 
Make  me  love  Thee  from  the  heart ! 

As  the  hart,  with  longing,  looks 
For  refreshing  water-brooks. 
Heated  in  the  burning  chace  ; 
So  my  soul  desires  Thy  grace  : 
So  my  heavy-laden  breast. 
By  the  cares  of  life  opprest, 
Longs  Thy  cooling  streams  to  taste 
In  this  dry  and  barren  waste. 

Mighty  Spirit  !  by  whose  aid 
Man  a  living  soul  was  made  ; 
Everlasting  God  !  whose  fire 
Kindles  chaste  and  pure  desire  ; 
Grant,  in  every  grief  and  loss, 
I  may  calmly  bear  the  cross, 
And  surrender  all  to  Thee, 
Comforting  and  strengthening  me  ! 


Love.  385 


Open  force  or  cunning  wiles, 
Snap  the  thread  of  my  brief  days  ; 
But,  when  gently  life  decays, 
Take  to  Heaven  Thy  servant  dear, 
Who  hath  loved  and  served  Thee  here  ; 
There  eternal  hymns  to  raise. 
Mighty  Spirit !  to  Thy  praise  ! 

Richard  Massie.  1 854. 

{Fi'oin  Jolm  Frank}) 


CCCLIX. 

O  Lamp  of  Life  !  that  on  the  bloody  Cross 
Dost  hang,  the  Beacon  of  our  wandering  race, 
To  guide  us  homeward  to  our  resting-place. 

And  save  our  best  wealth  from  eternal  loss  ! 

So  purge  my  inward  sight  from  earthly  dross, 
That,  fix'd  upon  Thy  Cross,  or  near  or  far. 

In  all  the  storms  this  weary  bark  that  toss, 
(Whate'er  be  lost  in  that  tempestuous  war,) 
Thee  I  retain,  my  Compass  and  my  Star  ! 

That,  when  arrived  upon  the  wish'd-for  strand, 
I  pass  of  death  th'  irrevocable  bar, 

And  at  the  gate  of  Heaven  trembling  stand, 

The  everlasting  doors  may  open  wide, 

And  give  Thee  to  my  sight,  God  glorified  ! 

Charles  Dyson .    1 8 1 6. 


CCCLX. 

A  poor  wayfaring  man  of  grief 
Hath  often  cross'd  me  on  my  way, 

Who  sued  so  humbly  for  relief, 
That  I  could  never  answer,  Nay  : 
c  c 


386  The  Book  of  P?^aise. 

I  had  not  power  to  ask  his  name, 
Whither  he  went,  or  whence  he  came, 
Yet  there  was  something  in  his  eye 
That  won  my  love,  I  knew  not  why. 

Once,  when  my  scanty  meal  was  spread, 

He  entered  ;  not  a  word  he  spake  ; 
Just  perishing  for  want  of  bread  ; 

I  gave  him  all ;  he  bless'd  it,  brake, 
And  ate  ;  but  gave  me  part  again  : 
Mine  was  an  angel's  portion  then  ; 
For,  while  I  fed  with  eager  haste, 
That  crust  was  manna  to  my  taste. 

I  spied  him,  where  a  fountain  burst 

Clear  from  the  rock  ;  his  strength  was  gone 

The  heedless  water  mock'd  his  thirst. 
He  heard  it,  saw  it  hurrying  on  : 

I  ran  to  raise  the  sufferer  up  \ 

Thrice  from  the  stream  he  drain'd  my  cup, 

Dipt,  and  return'd  it  running  o'er  ; 

I  drank,  and  never  thirsted  more. 

'Twas  night ;  the  floods  were  out ;  it  blew 

A  winter  hurricane  aloof  ; 
I  heard  his  voice  abroad,  and  flew 

To  bid  him  welcome  to  my  roof ; 
I  warmed,  I  clothed,  I  cheered  my  guest, 
Laid  him  on  my  own  couch  to  rest ; 
Then  made  the  hearth  my  bed,  and  seem'd 
In  Eden's  garden  while  I  dream'd. 

Stript,  v/ounded,  beaten,  nigh  to  death, 
I  found  him  by  the  highway-side  : 

I  roused  his  pulse,  brought  back  his  breath 
Revived  his  spirit,  and  supplied 


Hope.  387 

Wine,  oil,  refreshment ;  he  was  healed  : 
1  had  myself  a  wound  concealed  ; 
But  from  that  hour  forgot  the  smart, 
And  peace  bound  up  my  broken  heart. 

In  prison  I  saw  him  next,  condemned 
To  meet  a  traitor's  death  at  morn  : 

The  tide  of  lying  tongues  I  stemmed, 
And  honoured  him  midst  shame  and  scorn ; 

My  friendship's  utmost  zeal  to  try, 

He  ask'd,  if  I  for  him  would  die  ? 

The  flesh  was  weak,  my  blood  ran  chill ; 

But  the  free  spirit  cried,  "  I  will." 

Then  in  a  moment  to  my  view 

The  Stranger  darted  from  disguise  ; 

The  tokens  in  His  hands  I  knew. 
My  Saviour  stood  before  mine  eyes  ! 

He  spake  ;  and  my  poor  name  He  named  ; 

"  Of  me  thou  hast  not  been  ashamed  ; 

These  deeds  shall  thy  memorial  be  ; 

P>ar  not  ;  thou  didst  them  unto  Me." 

James  Montgomery.     1826. 

\^ 

HOPE. 

''  Set yo?er  affections  on  things  above;  not  on  things 
on  the  ea?'th'' — (COL.  iii.  2.) 

CCCLXT. 

I  praised  the  earth,  in  beauty  seen 
With  garlands  gay  of  various  green  ; 
I  praised  the  sea,  whose  ample  field 
Shone  glorious  as  a  silver  shield  ; 
And  earth  and  ocean  seem'd  to  say, 
"  Our  beauties  are  but  for  a  day." 
C  C  2 


388  The  Book  of  Praise. 

I  praised  the  sun,  whose  chariot  roll'd 
On  wheels  of  amber  and  of  gold  ; 
I  praised  the  moon,  whose  softer  eye 
Gleam'd  sweetly  through  the  summer  sky/ 
And  moon  and  sun  in  answer  said, 
"  Our  days  of  light  are  numbered." 

O  God  !  O  Good  beyond  compare  ! 

If  thus  Thy  meaner  works  are  fair, 

If  thus  Thy  bounties  gild  the  span 

Of  ruin'd  earth  and  sinful  man, 

How  glorious  must  the  mansion  be. 

Where  Thy  redeem'd  shall  dwell  with  Thee  ! 

Bishop  Reginald  Heber.  1827. 


CCCLXII. 

Our  life  is  but  an  idle  play, 

And  various  as  the  wind  ; 
We  laugh  and  sport  our  hours  away, 

Nor  think  of  woes  behind. 

See  the  fair  cheek  of  beauty  fade. 

Frail  glory  of  an  hour  ; 
And  blooming  youth,  with  sickening  head, 

Droops  like  the  dying  flower. 

Our  pleasures,  like  the  morning  sun, 

Diffuse  a  flattering  light ; 
But  gloomy  clouds  obscure  their  noon, 

And  soon  they  sink  in  night. 

Wealth,  pomp,  and  honour,  we  behold 

With  an  admiring  eye  ; 
Like  summer  insects,  drest  in  gold. 

That  flutter.^  shine,  and  die. 


Hope.  389 

One  little  moment  can  destroy 
Our  vast  laborious  schemes  ; 

And  all  our  heaps  of  solid  joy- 
Are  sweet  deceitful  dreams. 

Then  rise,  my  soul !  and  soar  away 
Above  the  thoughtless  crowd  ; 

Above  the  pleasures  of  the  gay, 
And  splendours  of  the  proud  ; 

Up  where  eternal  beauties  bloom, 

And  pleasures  all  divine  ; 
Where  wealth,  that  never  can  consume. 

And  endless  glories  shine  ! 

Henry  Moore.  [1806.] 


CCCLXIII. 

Though,  by  sorrows  overtaken, 
Lord,  thy  servants  seem  forsaken, 
Thy  Almighty  hand,  we  know, 
Blendeth  love  with  human  woe. 

Over  earth,  and  over  ocean, 
Claiming  sinful  man's  devotion, 
Round  the  living  and  the  dead, 
Lord,  Thy  boundless  love  is  shed. 

All  to  death  in  this  world  hasteth ; 
Riches  vanish,  beauty  wasteth  ; 
Yet  within  the  mourner's  breast 
Love  is  an  undying  guest. 

Love,  unlike  all  worldly  pleasures, 
Wraps  in  grief  its  golden  treasures, 
And  to  meek  and  wounded  hearts 
Deep  and  holy  joy  imparts. 


390  The  Book  of  Praise. 

Love,  that  strength  and  pardon  bringest 
Through  His  cross,  from  Whom  thou  springest! 
May  in  us  Thy  gracious  force 
Heavenward  turn  our  spirits'  course  ! 

Come,  and  while  Salvation's  morning 
On  our  darken'd  soul  is  dawning. 
Sin's  deep  midnight  roll  away  ! 
Pour  on  us  the  light  of  day  ! 

Algernon  Herbert.  [1839.] 


CCCLXIV, 

We've  no  abiding  city  here  : 

This  may  distress  the  worldling's  mind  ; 
But  should  not  cost  the  saint  a  tear 

Who  hopes  a  better  rest  to  find. 

We've  no  abiding  city  here  : 

Sad  truth  !  were  this  to  be  our  home  ! 
But  let  this  thought  our  spirits  cheer  ; 

We  seek  a  city  yet  to  come. 

We've  no  abiding  city  here  : 
Then  let  us  live  as  pilgrims  do  ! 

Let  not  the  world  our  rest  appear, 
But  let  us  haste  from  all  below. 

We've  no  abiding  city  here  : 

We  seek  a  city  out  of  sight ; 
Zion  its  name,  the  Lord  is  there, 

It  shines  with  everlasting  light ! 

Zion  !  Jehovah  is  her  strength  ; 

Secure  she  smiles  at  all  her  foes  •, 
And  weary  travellers  at  length 

Within  her  sacred  walls  repose. 


Hope.  391 

O  '  sweet  abode  of  peace  and  love, 

Where  pilgrims  freed  from  toil  are  blest ! 

Had  I  the  pinions  of  the  dove, 
I'd  fly  to  thee,  and  be  at  rest ! 

Thojnas  Kelly.  1812— 1836. 


CCCLXV. 

Psalm  CXXXVII. 

Far  from  my  heavenly  home, 
Far  from  my  Father's  breast. 
Fainting  I  cry,  "Blest  Spirit!  come 
And  speed  me  to  my  rest !" 


Upon  the  willows  long 
My  harp  has  silent  hung  : 
How  should  I  sing  a  cheerful  song 
Till  Thou  inspire  my  tongue  ? 

My  spirit  homeward  turns. 
And  fain  would  thither  flee  ; 
My  heart,  O  Zion,  droops  and  yearns, 
When  I  remember  thee. 

To  thee,  to  thee  I  press, 
A  dark  and  toilsome  road  : 
When  shall  I  pass  the  wilderness 
And  reach  the  saints'  abode  ? 

God  of  my  life,  be  near  1 
On  Thee  my  hopes  I  cast : 
O  guide  me  through  the  desert  here. 
And  bring  me  home  at  last ! 

Henry  Francis  Lytc.  1 834. 


392  The  Book  of  Praise. 


CCCLXVI. 

O  happy  soul,  that  Hves  on  high, 

While  men  lie  grovelling  here  ! 
His  hopes  are  fix'd  above  the  sky, 

And  faith  forbids  his  fear. 

His  conscience  knows  no  secret  stings  ; 

While  peace  and  joy  combine 
To  form  a  life,  whose  holy  springs 

Are  hidden  and  divine. 

He  waits  in  secret  on  his  God, 

His  God  in  secret  sees  ; 
Let  earth  be  all  in  arms  abroad, 

He  dwells  in  heavenly  peace. 

His  pleasures  rise  from  things  unseen, 

Beyond  this  world  and  time, 
Where  neither  eyes  nor  ears  have  been. 

Nor  thoughts  of  sinners  climb. 

He  wants  no  pomp,  nor  royal  throne, 

To  raise  his  figure  here  ; 
Content  and  pleased  to  live  unknown. 

Till  Christ,  his  Life,  appear. 

He  looks  to  Heaven's  eternal  hill. 

To  meet  that  glorious  day  ; 
A.nd  patient  waits  his  Saviour's  will. 

To  fetch  his  soul  away. 

Isaac  Watts.  1709. 


'Hope.  393 


CCCLXVII. 

Fain  would  my  thoughts  fly  up  to  Thee, 
Thy  peace,  sweet  Lord,  to  find  ; 

But  when  I  offer,  still  the  world 
Lays  clogs  upon  my  mind. 

Sometimes  I  climb  a  little  way 
And  thence  look  down  below  ; 

How  nothing,  there,  do  all  things  seem, 
That  here  make  such  a  show  ! 

Then  round  about  I  turn  my  eyes 

To  feast  my  hungry  sight ; 
I  meet  with  Heaven  in  every  thing, 

In  every  thing  delight. 

I  see  Thy  wisdom  ruling  all. 

And  it  with  joy  admire  ; 
I  see  myself  among  such  hopes 

As  set  my  heart  on  fire. 

When  I  have  thus  triumph'd  awhile. 
And  think  to  build  my  nest. 

Some  cross  conceits  come  fluttering  by. 
And  interrupt  my  rest. 

Then  to  the  earth  again  I  fall, 

And  from  my  low  dust  cry, 
'Twas  not  in  my  wing.  Lord,  but  Thine, 

That  I  got  up  so  high. 

And  now,  my  God,  whether  I  rise, 

Or  still  lie  down  in  dust, 
Both  I  submit  to  Thy  blest  will ; 

In  both,  on  Thee  I  trust. 


394  T^^^^  Book  of  Praise. 

Guide  Thou  my  way,  who  art  Thyself 

My  everlasting  End, 
That  every  step,  or  swift,  or  slow, 

Still  to  Thyself  may  tend  ! 

To  Father,  Son,  and  Holy  Ghost, 

One  consubstantial  Three, 
All  highest  praise,  all  humblest  thanks. 

Now  and  for  ever  be  !     Amen. 

John  Austin.  1668. 


CCCLXVITI. 

There  is  a  pure  and  tranquil  wave. 
That  rolls  around  the  throne  of  love. 
Whose  waters  gladden  as  they  lave 
The  peaceful  shores  above. 

While  streams,  which  on  that  tide  depend, 
Steal  from  those  heavenly  shores  away, 
And  on  this  desert  world  descend 
O'er  weaiy  lands  to  stray  ; 

The  pilgrim  faint,  and  nigh  to  sink 
Beneath  his  load  of  earthly  woe, 
Refresh'd  beside  their  verdant  brink, 
Rejoices  in  their  flow. 

There,  O  my  soul,  do  thou  repair. 
And  hover  o'er  the  hallowed  spring. 
To  drink  the  crystal  wave,  and  there 
To  lave  thy  wearied  wing  ! 

There  droop  that  wing,  when  far  it  flies 
From  human  care,  and  toil,  and  strife, 
And  feed  by  those  still  streams,  that  rise 
Beneath  the  Tree  of  Life  ! 


Hope.  395 

It  may  be  that  the  breath  of  love 
Some  leaves  on  their  pure  tide  have  driven, 
Which,  passing  from  the  shores  above, 
Have  floated  down  from  Heaven. 

So  shall  thy  wounds  and  woes  be  healed, 
By  the  blest  virtue  that  they  bring  ; 
So  thy  parch'd  lips  shall  be  unsealed 
Thy  Saviour's  praise  to  sing  ! 

William  Ball.   1825. 


CCCLXIX. 

Calm  me,  my  God,  and  keep  me  calm, 
While  these  hot  breezes  blow  ; 

Be  like  the  night-dew's  cooling  balm 
Upon  earth's  fevered  brow  ! 

Calm  me,  my  God,  and  keep  me  calm, 

Soft  resting  on  Thy  breast  ; 
Soothe  me  with  holy  hymn  and  psalm, 

And  bid  my  spirit  rest. 

Calm  me,  my  God,  and  keep  me  calm, 

Let  thine  outstretched  wing. 
Be  like  the  shade  of  Elim's  palm 

Beside  her  desert-spring. 

Yes  ;  keep  me  calm,  though  loud  and  rude 
The  sounds  my  ear  that  greet ; 

Calm  in  the  closet's  solitude, 
Calm  in  the  bustling  street ; 

Calm  in  the  hour  of  buoyant  health. 

Calm  in  my  hour  of  pain  ; 
Calm  in  my  poverty  or  wealth, 

Calm  in  my  loss  or  gain  ; 


396  The  Book  of  Praise. 

Calm  in  the  sufferance  of  wrong, 
Like  Him  who  bore  my  shame  ; 

Calm  'mid  the  threatening,  taunting  throng, 
Who  hate  Thy  holy  Name  ; 

Calm  when  the  great  world's  news  with  power 

My  listening  spirit  stir  : 
Let  not  the  tidings  of  the  hour 

E'er  find  too  fond  an  ear  : 

Calm  as  the  ray  of  sun  or  star 

Which  storms  assail  in  vain, 
Moving  unruffled  through  earth's  war 

Th'  eternal  calm,  to  gain  ! 

Horatms  Bonar.  1856. 


CCCLXX. 

O  send  me  down  a  draught  of  love, 
Or  take  me  hence  to  drink  above  ! 
Here,  Marah's  water  fills  my  cup  ; 
But  there,  all  griefs  are  swallow'd  up. 

Love  here  is  scarce  a  faint  desire  ; 
But  there,  the  spark's  a  flaming  fire  ,\ 
Joys  here  are  drops,  that  passing  flee ; 
But  there,  an  overflowing  sea. 

My  faith,  that  sees  so  darkly  here, 
Will  there  resign  to  vision  clear  ; 
My  hope,  that's  here  a  weary  groan, 
Will  to  fruition  yield  the  throne. 

Here  fetters  hamper  freedom's  wing  ; 
But  there,  the  captive  is  a  king  ; 
And  grace  is  like  a  buried  seed 
But  sinners  there  are  saints  indeed. 


Hope.  397 

My  portion  here's  a  crumb  at  best ; 
But  there,  the  Lamb's  eternal  feast ; 
My  praise  is  now  a  smother'd  fire ; 
But  then,  I'll  sing  and  never  tire. 

Now  dusky  shadows  cloud  my  day  ; 
But  then,  the  shades  will  flee  away  ; 
My  Lord  will  break  the  dimming  glass, 
And  show  His  glory  face  to  face. 

My  numerous  foes  now  beat  me  down  ; 
But  then,  I'll  wear  the  victor's  crown  ; 
Yet  all  the  revenues  I'll  bring 
To  Zion's  everlasting  King  ! 

Ralph  Erskine.  1734, 

CCCLXXI. 

Fierce  passions  discompose  the  mind, 

As  tempests  vex  the  sea  ; 
But  calm  content  and  peace  we  find. 

When,  Lord,  we  turn  to  Thee. 

In  vain  by  reason  and  by  rule 

We  try  to  bend  the  will ; 
For  none  but  in  the  Saviour's  school 

Can  learn  the  heavenly  skill. 

Since  at  His  feet  my  soul  has  sat 

His  gracious  words  to  hear, 
Contented  with  my  present  state, 

I  cast  on  Him  my  care. 

"Art  thou  a  sinner.  Soul  ?"  He  said  ; 

"  Then  how  canst  thou  complain  ? 
"  How  light  thy  troubles  here,  if  weigh'd 

"  With  everlasting  pain  ! 


393  The  Book  of  Praise. 

"  If  thou  of  murmuring  wouldst  be  cured, 
"  Compare  thy  griefs  with  Mine  ; 

"  Think  what  My  love  for  thee  endured, 
"  And  thou  wilt  not  repine. 

"  'Tis  I  appoint  thy  daily  lot, 

"  And  I  do  all  things  well : 
"  Thou  soon  shalt  leave  this  wretched  spot, 

"  And  rise  with  Me  to  dwell. 

"  In  life  My  grace  shall  strength  supply, 

"  Proportion'd  to  thy  day  ; 
"At  death  thou  still  shalt  find  Me  nigh, 

''  To  wipe  thy  tears  away." 

Thus  I,  w^ho  once  my  wretched  days 

In  vain  repinings  spent, 
Taught  in  my  Saviour's  school  of  grace, 

Have  learnt  to  be  content. 

William  Cowper.  1779. 


CCCLXXII. 

Let  me  be  with  Thee  where  Thou  art. 
My  Saviour,  my  eternal  Rest  ! 

Then  only  will  this  longing  heart 
Be  fully  and  for  ever  blest ! 

Let  me  be  with  Thee  where  Thou  art. 

Thy  unveil'd  glory  to  behold  ; 
Then  only  will  this  wandering  heart 

Cease  to  be  treacherous,  faithless,  cold  ! 

Let  me  be  with  Thee  w'here  Thou  art, 
Where  spotless  saints  Thy  Name  adore  : 

Then  only  will  this  sinful  heart 
Be  evil  and  defiled  no  more  ! 


Hope.  399 

Let  me  be  with  Thee  where  Thou  art, 
Where  none  can  die,  where  none  remove  ; 

There  neither  death  nor  hfe  will  part 
Me  from  Thy  Presence  and  Thy  love  ! 

Charlotte  Elliott.  1836. 


CCCLXXIII. 

O  Lord,  how  little  do  we  know, 
How  little  of  Thy  Presence  feel, 

While  we  continue  here  below, 

And  in  these  earthly  houses  dwell ! 

When  will  these  veils  of  flesh  remove, 
And  not  eclipse  our  sight  of  God  ? 

When  wilt  Thou  take  us  up  above. 
To  see  Thy  face  without  a  cloud  ? 

Show  Thy  omnipotence  to  save ! 

The  characters  of  sin  efface  ! 
Thine  image  on  our  hearts  engrave, 

And  let  us  feel  Thy  sweet  embrace  ! 

Dart  in  our  hearts  a  heavenly  ray, 
A  ray  which  still  may  shine  more  bright, 

Increasing  to  the  perfect  day, 
Till  we  awake  in  endless  light ! 

Then  shall  each  Star  become  a  Sun, 

Fill'd  with  a  lustre  all  Divine  ; 
Each  shall  possess  a  radiant  crown, 

And  to  eternal  ages  shine. 

William  Hammond.  1 745. 


400  The  Book  of  Praise. 


CCCLXXIV. 

Go  up,  go  up,  my  heart, 

Dwell  with  thy  God  above  ; 
For  here  thou  canst  not  rest. 

Nor  here  give  out  thy  love. 

Go  up,  go  up,  my  heart, 

Be  not  a  trifler  here  ; 
Ascend  above  these  clouds, 

Dwell  in  a  higher  sphere. 

Let  not  thy  love  flow  out 

To  things  so  soiled  and  dim  ; 

Go  up  to  Heaven  and  God, 
Take  up  thy  love  to  Him. 

Waste  not  thy  precious  stores 

On  creature-love  below ; 
To  God  that  wealth  belongs, 

On  Him  that  wealth  bestow. 

Go  up,  reluctant  heart. 

Take  up  thy  rest  above  ; 
Arise,  earth-clinging  thoughts  ; 

Ascend,  my  lingering  love  ! 

Horatius  Bonar.  1856. 


CCCLXXV. 

My  soul,  amid  this  stormy  world. 
Is  like  some  fluttered  dove, 

And  fain  would  be  as  swift  of  wing 
To  flee  to  Him  I  love. 


Hope.  401 

The  cords  that  bound  my  heart  to  earth 

Are  broken  by  His  hand  ; 
Before  His  cross  I  found  myself 

A  stranger  in  the  land. 

That  visage  marr'd,  those  sorrows  deep, 

The  vinegar  and  gall, 
These  were  His  golden  chains  of  love 

His  captive  to  enthral. 

My  heart  is  with  Him  on  His  throne, 

And  ill  can  brook  delay, 
Each  moment  listening  for  the  voice, 

"  Rise  up,  and  come  away  !" 

With  hope  deferr'd  oft  sick  and  faint, 

"  Why  tarries  He  ? "  I  cry  ; 
Let  not  the  Saviour  chide  my  haste, 

For  then  would  I  reply  : 

"  May  not  an  exile.  Lord,  desire 

"  His  own  sweet  land  to  see  ? 
"  May  not  a  captive  seek  release, 

"  A  prisoner,  to  be  free  ? 

"  A  child,  when  far  away,  may  long 
"  For  home  and  kindred  dear  ; 
And  she,  that  waits  her  absent  lord, 
"  May  sigh  till  he  appear. 

'  I  would,  my  Lord  and  Saviour,  know 
"  That  which  no  measure  knows  ! 

"  Would  search  the  mysteiy  of  Thy  lo\e, 
"  The  depths  of  all  Thy  woes  ! 

D  D 


402  The  Book  of  Praise. 

''  I  fain  would  strike  my  harp  divine, 

"  Before  the  Father's  throne, 
"  There  cast  my  crown  of  Righteousness, 

"  And  sing  what  grace  has  done  ! 

"  Ah  !  leave  me  not  in  this  base  world, 

"  A  stranger  still  to  roam  ; 
"  Come,  Lord,  and  take  me  to  Thyself ; 

"  Come,  Jesus,  quickly  come  !  " 

Robert  C.  Chapman.   1837 — 185? 


CCCLXXVI. 

Jesus,  I  my  cross  have  taken. 

All  to  leave,  and  follow  Thee  ; 
Destitute,  despised,  forsaken, 

Thou,  from  hence,  my  all  shalt  be  : 
Perish  every  fond  ambition. 

All  I've  sought,  or  hoped,  or  known  ; 
Yet  how  rich  is  my  condition  ! 

God  and  Heaven  are  still  my  own  ! 

Let  the  world  despise  and  leave  me, 

They  have  left  my  Saviour  too  ; 
Human  hearts  and  looks  deceive  me  ; 

Thou  art  not,  like  them,  untrue  : 
And,  while  Thou  shalt  smile  upon  me, 

God  of  wisdom,  love,  and  might, 
Foes  may  hate,  and  friends  may  shun  me  ; 

Show  Thy  face,  and  all  is  bright ! 

Go,  then,  earthly  fame  and  treasure  ! 

Come,  disaster,  scorn,  and  pain  ! 
In  Thy  service,  pain  is  pleasure. 

With  Thy  favour,  loss  is  gain  ! 


Hope.  403 

I  have  call'd  Thee,  Abba,  Father  ! 

I  have  stay'd  my  heart  on  Thee  ! 
Storms  may  howl,  and  clouds  may  gather, 

All  must  work  for  good  to  me. 

Man  may  trouble  and  distress  me, 

'Twill  but  drive  me  to  Thy  breast  ; 
Life  with  trials  hard  may  press  me. 

Heaven  will  bring  me  sweeter  rest ! 
O  !  'tis  not  in  grief  to  harm  me, 

While  Thy  love  is  left  to  me ! 
O  !  'twere  not  in  joy  to  charm  me. 

Were  that  joy  unmix'd  with  Thee  ! 

Take,  my  soul,  thy  full  salvation  ; 

Rise  o'er  sin,  and  fear,  and  care  ; 
Joy  to  find,  in  every  station, 

Something  still  to  do  or  bear  : 
Think  what  Spirit  dwells  within  thee  ! 

W^hat  a  Father  s  smile  is  thine  ! 
What  a  Saviour  died  to  win  thee  ! 

Child  of  Heaven,  shouldst  thou  repine  ? 

Haste  then  on  from  grace  to  glory, 

Arm'd  by  faith,  and  wing'd  by  prayer  ; 
Heaven s  eternal  days  before  thee, 

God's  own  hand  shall  guide  thee  there  ! 
Soon  shall  close  thy  earthly  mission, 

Swift  shall  pass  thy  pilgrim  days  ; 
Hope  soon  change  to  glad  fruition, 

F'aith  to  sight,  and  prayer  to  praise  ! 

Hjiny  Frincis  Lytc.  [1833.] 


D  D  2 


404  The  Book  of  Praise. 

VI. 

JOY. 

"7;^  whom^  though  now  ye  see  Hint  not,  yet  believing^ 
ye  rejoice  with  joy  unspeakable,  and  full  of  glory  r 
— (i  Pet.  i.  8.) 

CCCLXXVII. 

My  God,  the  Spring  of  all  my  joys^ 

The  Life  of  my  delights, 
The  Glory  of  my  brig'htest  days, 

And  Comfort  of  my  nights  : 

In  darkest  shades  if  He  appear, 

My  dawning  is  begun  ; 
He  is  my  soul's  sweet  Morning-star, 

And  He  my  rising  Sun. 

The  opening  heavens  around  me  shine 

With  beams  of  sacred  bliss. 
While  Jesus  shows,  His  heart  is  mine. 

And  whispers,  I  am  His. 

My  soul  would  leave  this  heavy  clay 

At  that  transporting  word, 
Run  up  with  joy  the  shining  wary 

T  embrace  my  dearest  Lord. 

Fearless  of  hell  and  ghastly  death, 

I'd  break  through  every  foe  : 
The  wings  of  love  and  arms  of  faith 

Should  bear  me  conqueror  through. 

Isaac  Watts.  1709. 


Joy.  405 

CCCLXXVIII. 

Far  from  the  world,  O  Lord,  I  flee. 

From  strife  and  tumult  far  ; 
From  scenes  where  Satan  wages  still 

His  most  successful  war. 

The  calm  retreat,  the  silent  shade, 

With  prayer  and  praise  agree. 
And  seem  by  Thy  sweet  bounty  made 

For  those  who  follow  Thee. 

There,  if  Thy  Spirit  touch  the  soul, 

And  grace  her  mean  abode, 
Oh  with  what  peace,  and  joy,  and  love, 

She  communes  with  her  God ! 

There,  like  the  nightingale,  she  pours 

Her  solitary  lays. 
Nor  asks  a  witness  of  her  song, 

Nor  thirsts  for  human  praise. 

Author  and  Guardian  of  my  life  ; 

Sweet  Source  of  light  Divine  ; 
And,  all  harmonious  names  in  one. 

My  Saviour  !  Thou  art  mine  ! 

What  thanks  I  owe  Thee,  and  what  love, 

A  boundless,  endless  store. 
Shall  echo  through  the  realms  above 

When  time  shall  be  no  more  ! 

William  Cowper.  ijjf). 

CCCLXXIX. 
There's  not  a  bird,  with  lonely  nest 
In  pathless  wood  or  mountain  crest. 
Nor  meaner  thing,  which  does  not  share. 
O  God  !  in  Thy  paternal  care  ! 


4o6  The  Book  of  Praise. 

There's  not  a  being  now  accurst, 
Who  did  not  taste  Thy  goodness  first ; 
And  every  joy  the  wicked  see 
Received  its  origin  from  Thee. 

Each  barren  crag,  each  desert  rude, 
Holds  Thee  within  its  sohtude  ; 
And  Thou  dost  bless  the  wanderer  there, 
Who  makes  his  solitary  prayer. 

In  busy  mart  and  crowded  street, 
No  less  than  in  the  still  retreat, 
Thou,  Lord,  art  near,  our  souls  to  bless 
With  all  a  parent's  tenderness  ! 

And  every  moment  still  doth  bring 
Thy  blessings  on  its  loaded  wing  ; 
Widely  they  spread  through  earth  and  sky, 
And  last  to  all  eternity  ! 

Through  all  creation  let  Thy  Name 
Be  echoed  with  a  glad  acclaim  ! 
That  let  the  grateful  Churches  sing  ; 
With  that  let  heaven  for  ever  ring  ! 

And  we,  where'er  our  lot  is  cast, 
W^hile  life  and  thought  and  feeling  last, 
Through  all  our  years,  in  every  place, 
Will  bless  Thee  for  Thy  boundless  grace  ! 

Baptist  Wriothesley  Noel.  [1841.I 


CCCLXXX. 

The  child  leans  on  its  parent's  breast. 
Leaves  there  its  cares,  and  is  at  rest  ; 
The  bird  sits  singing  by  his  nest,. 


Joy.  407 

And  tells  aloud 
His  trust  in  God,  and  so  is  blest 

'Neath  every  cloud. 

He  has  no  store,  he  sows  no  seed  ; 
Yet  sings  aloud,  and  doth  not  heed ; 
By  flowing  stream  or  grassy  mead 

He  sings  to  shame 
Men,  who  forget,  in  fear  of  need, 

A  Father's  Name. 

The  heart  that  trusts  for  ever  sings, 
And  feels  as  light  as  it  had  wings  ; 
A  well  of  peace  within  it  springs  : 

Come  good  or  ill, 
Whate'er  to-day,  to-morrow  brings. 

It  is  His  will  ! 
Isaac  Williams.  [1842.] 


CCCLXXXI. 

Why  comes  this  fragrance  on  the  summer  breeze, 
The  blended  tribute  of  ten  thousand  flowers. 

To  me,  a  frequent  wanderer  'mid  the  trees 
That  form«  these  gay,  \though  solitary  bowers  ? 

One  answer  is  around,  beneath,  above  ; 

The  echo  of  the  voice,  that  God  is  Love ! 

Why  bursts  such  melody  from  tree  and  bush, 
The  overflowing  of  each  songster's  heart, 

So  filling  mine,  that  it  can  scarcely  hush 
Awhile  to  listen,  but  would  take  its  part  ? 

'Tis  but  one  song  I  hear  where'er  I  rove. 

Though  countless  be  the  notes,  that  God  is  Love ! 


4o8  The  Book  of  Praise. 

Why  leaps  the  streamlet  down  the  mountain's  side. 
Hastening  so  swiftly  to  the  vale  beneath, 

To  cheer  the  shepherd' s  thirsty  flock,  or  glide 
Where  the  hot  sun  has  left  a  faded  wreath, 

Or,  rippling,  aid  the  music  of  the  grove  ? 

Its  own  glad  voice  replies,  that  God  is  Love ! 

In  starry  heavens,  at  the  midnight  hour, 
In  ever-varying  hues  at  morning's  dawn, 

In  the  fair  bow  athwart  the  falling  shower. 
In  forest,  river,  lake,  rock,  hill,  and  lawn, 

One  truth  is  written  :  all  conspire  to  prove, 

What  gi-ace  of  old  reveal'd,  that  God  is  Love  ! 

Nor  less  this  pulse  of  health,  far  glancing  eye, 
And  heart  so  moved  with  beauty,  perfume,  song. 

This  spirit,  soaring  through  a  gorgeous  sky, 
Or  diving  ocean's  coral  caves  among. 

Fleeter  than  darting  fish  or  startled  dove  ; 

All,  all  declare  the  same,  that  God  is  Love  ! 

Is  it  a  fallen  world  on  which  I  gaze  ? 

Am  I  as  deeply  fallen  as  the  rest, 
Yet  joys  partaking,  past  my  utmost  praise. 

Instead  of  wandering  forlorn,  unblest  ? 
It  is  as  if  an  unseen  spirit  strove 
To  grave  upon  my  heart,  that  God  is  Love  ! 

Yet  wouldst  thou  see,  my  soul,  this  truth  display'd 
In  characters  which  wondering  angels  read. 

And  read,  adoring  ;  go,  imploring  aid 

To  gaze  with  faith,  behold  the  Saviour  bleed  I 

Thy  God,  in  human  form  !  O,  what  can  prove. 

If  this  suffice  thee  not,  that  God  is  Love  ? 


Joy.  409 

Cling  to  His  cross  ;  and  let  thy  ceaseless  prayer 
Be,  that  thy  grasp  may  fail  not !  and,  ere  long, 

Thou  shalt  ascend  to  that  fair  Temple,  where 
In  strains  ecstatic  an  innumerous  throng 

Of  saints  and  seraphs,  round  the  Throne  above, 

Proclaim  for  evermore,  that  God  is  Love  ! 

Thomas  Davis.  1859. 

CCCLXXXII. 
Shall  I  fear,  O  Earth,  thy  bosom  ? 

Shrink  and  faint  to  lay  me  there. 
Whence  the  fragrant  lovely  blossom 

Springs  to  gladden  earth  and  air  ? 

Whence  the  tree,  the  brook,  the  river. 
Soft  clouds  floating  in  the  sky, 

All  fair  things  come,  whispering  ever 
Of  the  love  Divine  on  high  ? 

Yea,  whence  One  arose  Victorious 
O'er  the  darkness  of  the  grave. 

His  strong  arm  revealing,  glorious 
In  its  might  Divine  to  save  ? 

No,  fair  Earth  !  a  tender  mother 

Thou  hast  been,  and  yet  canst  be  : 
And  through  Him,  my  Lord  and  Brother, 
'  Sweet  shall  be  my  rest  in  thee  ! 

Thomas  Davis.  1 86a 


CCCLXXXIII. 

How  vast  the  treasure  we  possess. 
How  rich  Thy  bounty.  King  of  grace  ! 
This  world  is  ours,  and  worlds  to  come ; 
Earth  is  our  lodge,  and  Heaven  our  home, 


4IO  The  Book  of  Praise. 

All  things  are  ours,  the  gifts  of  God, 
The  purchase  of  a  Saviour's  Blood  ; 
While  the  good  Spirit  shews  us  hov/ 
To  use  and  to  improve  them  too. 

If  peace  and  plenty  crown  my  days. 
They  help  me,  Lord,  to  speak  Thy  praise  ; 
If  bread  of  sorrows  be  my  food, 
Those  sorrows  work  my  lasting  good. 

I  would  not  change  my  blest  estate 
For  all  the  world  calls  good  or  great ; 
And,  while  my  faith  can  keep  her  hold, 
I  envy  not  the  sinner's  gold. 

Father  ;  I  wait  Thy  daily  will ; 
Thou  shalt  divide  my  portion  still ; 
Grant  me  on  earth  what  seems  Thee  best. 
Till  death  and  Heaven  reveal  the  rest. 

Isaac  Watts.  1709. 

CCCLXXXIV. 

By  faith  in  Christ  I  w^alk  with  God, 
With  Heaven,  my  journey's  end,  in  view; 

Supported  by  His  staff  and  rod, 
My  road  is  safe,  and  pleasant  too. 

I  travel  through  a  desert  wide 
Where  many  round  me  blindly  stray  ; 

But  He  vouchsafes  to  be  my  Guide, 
And  will  not  let  me  miss  my  way. 

Though  snares  and  dangers  throng  my  path, 
And  earth  and  hell  my  course  withstand, 

I  triumph  over  all  by  faith. 

Guarded  by  His  Almighty  hand. 


Joy.  411 

The  wilderness  affords  no  food  ; 

But  God  for  my  support  prepares, 
Provides  me  every  needful  good, 

And  frees  my  soul  from  wants  and  cares. 

With  him  sweet  converse  I  maintain  ; 

Great  as  He  is,  I  dare  be  free ; 
I  tell  Him  all  my  grief  and  pain  ; 

And  He  reveals  His  love  to  me. 

Some  cordial  from  His  Word  He  brings. 

Whene'er  my  feeble  spirit  faints  ; 
At  once  my  soul  revives  and  sings. 

And  yields  no  more  to  sad  complaints. 

I  pity  all  that  worldlings  talk 

Of  pleasures,  that  will  quickly  end  ; 

Be  this  my  choice,  O  Lord,  to  walk 
With  Thee,  my  Guide,  my  Guard,  my  Friend ! 
Johfi  Newton.  1779. 


CCCLXXXV. 

Sometimes  a  light  surprises 

The  Christian  while  he  sings 
It  is  the  Lord,  who  rises 

With  healing  in  His  wings  : 
When  comforts  are  declining, 

He  grants  the  soul  again 
A  season  of  clear  shining 

To  cheer  it  after  rain. 

In  holy  contemplation 
We  sweetly  then  pursue 

The  theme  of  God's  salvation, 
And  find  it  ever  new  : 


412  The  Book  of  Praise. 

Set  free  from  present  sorrow, 

We  cheerfully  can  say, 
E'en  let  the  unknown  to-morrow 

Bring  with  it  what  it  may. 

It  can  bring  with  it  nothing, 

But  He  will  bear  us  through ; 
Who  gives  the  lilies  clothing 

Will  clothe  His  people  too  ; 
Beneath  the  spreading  heavens 

No  creature  but  is  fed  ; 
And  He,  who  feeds  the  ravens, 

Will  give  His  children  bread. 

Though  vine  nor  fig-tree  neither 

Their  wonted  fruit  shall  bear  ; 
Though  all  the  field  should  wither, 

Nor  flocks  nor  herds  be  there  ; 
Yet,  God  the  same  abiding. 

His  praise  shall  tune  my  voice  ; 
For,  while  \vi  Him  confiding, 

I  cannot  but  rejoice. 

William  Cowper,  1779. 

CCCLXXXVI. 

Long  did  I  toil,  and  knew  no  earthly  rest ; 

Far  did  I  rove,  and  found  no  certain  home  ; 
At  last  I  sought  them  in  His  sheltering  breast. 

Who  opes  His  arms,  and  bids  the  weary  come  : 
With  Him  I  found  a  home,  a  rest  Divine ; 
And  I  since  then  am  His,  and  He  is  mine. 

Yes  !  He  is  mine  !  and  nought  of  earthly  things, 
Not  all  the  charms  of  pleasure,  wealth,  or  power. 

The  fame  of  heroes,  or  the  pomp  of  kings. 
Could  tempt  m.e  to  forego  His  love  an  hour. 


Joy-  413 

Go,  worthless  world,  I  cry,  with  all  that's  thine  ! 
Go  !  I  my  Saviour's  am,  and  He  is  mine. 

The  good  I  have  is  from  His  stores  supplied  ; 

The  ill  is  only  what  He  deems  the  best ; 
He  for  my  Friend,  I'm  rich  with  nought  beside  ; 

And  poor  without  Him,  though  of  all  possest  : 
Changes  may  come ;  I  take,  or  I  resign  ; 
Content,  while  I  am  His,  while  He  is  mine. 

Whate'cr  may  change,  in  Him  no  change  is  seen ; 

A  glorious  Sun,  that  wanes  not  nor  declines  ; 
Above  the  clouds  and  storms  He  walks  serene, 

And  sweetly  on  his  people's  darkness  shines : 
All  may  depart ;  I  fret  not,  nor  repine. 
While  I  my  Saviour's  am,  while  He  is  mine. 

He  stays  me  falling,  lifts  me  up  when  down. 
Reclaims  me  wandering,  guards  from  every  foe  ; 

Plants  on  my  worthless  brow  the  victor's  crown  ; 
Which,  in  return,  before  His  feet  I  throw. 

Grieved  that  I  cannot  better  grace  His  shrine, 

Who  deigns  to  own  me  His,  as  He  is  mine. 

While  here,  alas  !  I  know  but  half  His  love. 
But  half  discern  Him,  and  but  half  adore  ; 

But  when  I  meet  Him  in  the  realms  above, 
I  hope  to  love  Him  better,  praise  Him  more, 

And  feel,  and  tell,  amid  the  choir  Divine, 

How  fully  I  am  His,  and  He  is  mine. 


414  The  Book  of  Praise. 


VII. 

DISCIPLINE. 

'  Whom  the  Lord  loueth,  He  chaste7ieth'—(^^'Q.x\\.6^ 

CCCLXXXVII. 

When  Christ,  with  all  His  graces  crown'd, 
Sheds  His  kind  beams  abroad, 

'Tis  a  young  Heaven  on  earthly  ground, 
And  glory  in  the  bud. 

A  blooming  paradise  of  joy 

In  this  wild  desert  springs, 
And  every  sense  I  straight  employ 

On  sweet  celestial  things. 

But  ah  !  how  soon  my  joys  decay ! 

How  soon  my  sins  arise 
And  snatch  the  heavenly  scene  away 

From  these  lamenting  eyes  ! 

When  shall  the  time,  dear  Jesus,  when 

The  shining  day  appear, 
That  I  shall  leave  those  clouds  of  sin 

And  guilt  and  darkness  here  ? 

Up  to  the  fields  above  the  skies 

My  hasty  feet  would  go  ; 
There  everlasting  flowers  arise. 

And  joys  un withering  grow  ! 

Isaac  IVails.  1709. 


Discipline.  415 

CCCLXXXVIII. 

0  for  a  closer  walk  with  God, 
A  calm  and  heavenly  frame  ! 

A  light  to  shine  upon  the  road 
That  leads  me  to  the  Lamb  ! 

Where  is  the  blessedness  I  knew 

When  first  I  saw  the  Lord  ? 
Where  is  the  soul-refreshing  view 

Of  Jesus  and  His  word  ? 

What  peaceful  hours  I  once  enjoyed  ! 

How  sweet  their  memory  still ! 
But  they  have  left  an  aching  void 

The  world  can  never  fill. 

Return,  O  holy  Dove  !  return, 
Sweet  messenger  of  rest ! 

1  hate  the  sins  that  made  Thee  mourn, 
And  drove  Thee  from  my  breast. 

The  dearest  idol  I  have  known, 

Whate'er  that  idol  be. 
Help  me  to  tear  it  from  Thy  throne, 

And  worship  only  Thee  ! 

So  shall  my  walk  be  close  with  God, 

Calm  and  serene  my  frame  ; 
So  purer  light  shall  mark  the  road 

That  leads  me  to  the  Lamb  ! 

William  Cowper.   1779. 

CCCLXXXIX. 

The  spring-tide  hour 
Brings  leaf  and  flower 
With  songs  of  life  and  love  ; 


4i6  The  Book  of  Praise. 

And  many  a  lay 

Wears  out  the  day 
In  many  a  leafy  grove. 

Bird,  flower,  and  tree 

Seem  to  agree 
Their  choicest  gifts  to  bring; 

But  this  poor  heart 

Bears  not  its  part, 
In  it  there  is  no  spring. 

Dews  fall  apace, 

The  dews  of  grace, 
Upon  this  soul  of  sin 

And  love  Divine 

Delights  to  shine 
Upon  the  waste  within  : 

Yet,  year  by  year, 

Fruits,  flowers,  appear, 
And  birds  their  praises  sing ; 

But  this  poor  heart 

Bears  not  its  part. 
Its  winter  has  no  spring. 

Lord,  let  Thy  love, 

Fresh  from  above. 
Soft  as  the  south  wind  blow  ; 

Call  forth  its  bloom, 

Wake  its  perfume. 
And  bid  its  spices  flow  ! 

And  when  Thy  voice 

Makes  earth  rejoice. 
And  the  hills  laugh  and  sing, 

Lord  !  make  this  heart 

To  bear  its  part. 
And  join  the  praise  of  spring  ! 

John  S.  B,  Mo7iseU.  1850. 


Discipline,  417 


cccxc. 
Psalm  LXIII. 

Early,  my  God,  without  delay, 

I  haste  to  seek  Thy  face  ; 
My  thirsty  spirit  faints  away 

Without  Thy  cheering  grace. 

So  pilgrims  on  the  scorching  sand 

Beneath  a  burning  sky 
Long  for  a  cooling  stream  at  hand, 

And  they  must  drink,  or  die. 

I've  seen  Thy  glory  and  Thy  power 
Through  all  Thy  temple  shine  ; 

My  God  !  repeat  that  heavenly  hour, 
That  vision  so  divine  ! 

Not  life  itself,  with  all  her  joys, 

Can  my  best  passions  move, 
Or  raise  so  high  my  cheerful  voice, 

As  Thy  forgiving  love. 

Thus  till  my  last  expiring  day 

I'll  bless  my  God  and  King  ; 
Thus  will  I  lift  my  hands  to  pray, 

And  tune  my  lips  to  sing. 

Isaac  Watts.  1719. 


cccxci. 

God  moves  in  a  mysterious  way 
His  wonders  to  perform  ; 

He  plants  his  footsteps  in  the  sea, 
And  rides  upon  the  storm. 

E  E 


41 8  The  Book  oj  Praise. 

Deep  in  unfathomable  mines 

Of  never-failing  skill, 
He  treasures  up  His  bright  designs, 

And  works  His  sovereign  will. 

Ye  fearful  saints,  fresh  courage  take  ; 

The  clouds  ye  so  much  dread 
Are  big  with  mercy,  and  shall  break 

In  blessings  on  your  head. 

Judge  not  the  Lord  by  feeble  sense, 
But  trust  Him  for  His  grace  ; 

Behind  a  frowning  Providence 
He  hides  a  smiling  face. 

His  purposes  will  ripen  fast, 

Unfolding  every  hour ; 
The  bud  may  have  a  bitter  taste^ 

But  sweet  will  be  the  flower. 

Blind  unbelief  is  sure  to  err, 
And  scan  His  work  in  vain  ; 

God  is  His  own  interpreter, 
And  He  will  make  it  plain. 

William  Cowper.  1779. 


CCCXCIT. 

The  world  can  neither  give  nor  take. 

Nor  can  they  comprehend 
The  peace  of  God,  which  Christ  has  bought, 

The  peace  which  knows  no  end. 

The  burning  bush  was  not  consumed 

Whilst  God  remained  there  ; 
The  Three,  when  Jesus  made  the  Fourth, 

Found  fire  as  soft  as  air. 


Discipline.  419 

God's  furnace  doth  in  Zion  stand  ; 

But  Zion's  God  sits  by, 
As  the  refiner  views  his  gold 

With  an  observant  eye. 

His  thoughts  are  high,  His  love  is  wise, 

His  wounds  a  cure  intend  ; 
And,  though  He  does  not  always  smile, 
He  loves  unto  the  end. 
Cento  by  Selina,  Countess  of  Hnntingdon.  1780. 
From  John  Mason.  1683. 

CCCXCIII. 
Let  Jacob  to  his  Maker  sing, 
And  praise  his  great  Redeeming  King : 
Call'd  by  a  new,  a  gracious  Name, 
Let  Israel  loud  his  God  proclaim. 

He  knows  our  souls  in  all  their  fears. 
And  gently  wipes  our  falling  tears  ; 
Forms  trembling  voices  to  a  song, 
And  bids  the  feeble  heart  be  strong. 

Then  let  the  rivers  swell  around. 
And  rising  floods  o'erflow  the  ground  ; 
Rivers  and  floods  and  seas  divide. 
And  homage  pay  to  Israel's  Guide. 

Then  let  the  fires  their  rage  display, 
And  flaming  terrors  bar  the  way  ; 
Unburnt,  unsinged.  He  leads  them  through, 
And  makes  the  flames  refreshing  too. 

The  fires  but  on  their  bonds  shall  prey  ; 
The  floods  but  wash  their  stains  away  ; 
And  Grace  Divine  new  trophies  raise 
Amidst  the  deluge  and  the  blaze. 

Philip  Doddridf^c.  1755. 
E  E  2 


420  The  Book  of  Praise, 


CCCXCIV. 

To  Thee,  my  God,  whose  Presence  tills 

The  earth,  and  seas,  and  skies. 
To  Thee,  whose  Name,  whose  heart  is  Love, 

With  all  my  powers  I  rise. 

Troubles  in  long  succession  roll ; 

Wave  rushes  upon  wave  ; 
Pity,  O  pity  my  distress  ! 

Thy  child^  Thy  suppliant,  save  ! 

O  bid  the  roaring  tempest  cease  ; 

Or  give  me  strength  to  bear 
Whate'er  Thy  holy  will  appoints, 

And  save  me  from  despair  ! 

To  Thee,  my  God,  alone  I  look. 

On  Thee  alone  confide  ; 
Thou  never  hast  deceived  the  soul 

That  on  Thy  grace  rehed. 

Though  oft  Thy  ways  are  wrapt  in  clouds 

Mysterious  and  unknown. 
Truth,  Righteousness,  and  Mercy  stand 

The  pillars  of  Thy  throne. 

Thomas  Gibbons.   \  784. 


CCCXCV. 

The  billows  swell,  the  winds  are  high, 

Clouds  overcast  my  wintry  sky  ; 

Out  of  the  depths  to  Thee  I  call, 

My  fears  are  great,  my  strength  is  small. 


Discipli?ie.  421 

O  Lord,  the  pilot's  part  perform, 
And  guide  and  guard  me  through  the  storm ; 
Defend  me  from  each  threatening  ill, 
Control  the  waves,  say,  "  Peace,  be  still !  " 

Amidst  the  roaring  of  the  sea 
My  soul  still  hangs  her  hopes  on  Thee  ; 
Thy  constant  love.  Thy  faithful  care 
Is  all  that  saves  me  from  despair. 

Dangers  of  every  shape  and  name 
Attend  the  followers  of  the  Lamb, 
Who  leave  the  world's  deceitful  shore, 
And  leave  it  to  return  no  more. 

Though  tempest-toss'd,  and  half  a  wreck. 
My  Saviour  through  the  floods  I  seek : 
Let  neither  winds  nor  stormy  main 
Force  back  my  shatter'd  bark  again  ! 

William  Cowper,  1779. 


CCCXCVI. 
Why  should  I,  in  vain  repining. 

Mourn  the  clouds  that  cross  my  way  ; 
Since  my  Saviour's  Presence  shining 

Turns  my  darkness  into  day  ? 

Earthly  honour,  earthly  treasure, 
All  the  warmest  passions  win, 

And  the  silken  wings  of  pleasure 
Only  waft  us  on  to  sin. 

But,  within  the  vale  of  sorrow, 
All  with  tempests  overblown. 

Purer  light  and  joy  we  borrow 
From  the  face  of  God  alone. 


422  The  Book  of  Praise, 

Welcome,  then,  each  darker  token  ! 

Mercy  sent  it  from  above  ! 
So  the  heart,  subdued,  not  broken. 

Bends  in  fear,  and  melts  with  love. 

James  Edineston.  1820. 


CCCXCVII. 

Why  should  I  fear  the  darkest  hour, 
Or  tremble  at  the  Tempter's  power  ? 
Jesus  vouchsafes  to  be  my  Tower. 

Though  hot  the  fight,  why  quit  the  field  ? 
Why  must  I  either  fly  or  yield. 
Since  Jesus  is  my  mighty  Shield  1 

When  creature-comforts  fade  and  die. 
Worldlings  may  weep,  but  why  should  I  ? 
Jesus  still  fives,  and  still  is  nigh. 

Though  all  the  flocks  and  herds  were  dead. 
My  soul  a  famine  need  not  dread. 
For  Jesus  is  my  living  Bread. 

i  know  not  what  may  soon  betide, 
Or  how  my  wants  shall  be  supplied ; 
But  Jesus  knows,  and  will  provide. 

Though  Sin  would  fill  me  with  distress, 
The  throne  of  Grace  I  dare  address, 
For  Jesus  is  my  Righteousness. 

Though  faint  my  prayers,  and  cold  my  love, 
My  stedfast  hope  shall  not  remove 
While  Jesus  intercedes  above. 


Discipli7ie.  ^2^ 

Against  me  earth  and  hell  combine  ; 
But  on  my  side  is  Power  divine  ; 
Jesus  is  all,  and  He  is  minei 

J oh?i  Newton.   1779. 


CCCXCVIII. 

When  gathering  clouds  around  I  view, 
And  days  are  dark  and  friends  are  few, 
On  Him  I  lean,  who  not  in  vain 
Experienced  every  human  pain  ; 
He  sees  my  wants,  allays  my  fears. 
And  counts  and  treasures  up  my  tears. 

If  aught  should  tempt  my  soul  to  stray 

From  heavenly  wisdom's  narrow  way  ; 

To  fly  the  good  I  would  pursue. 

Or  do  the  sin  I  would  not  do  ; 

Still  He,  who  felt  temptation's  power. 

Shall  guard  me  in  that  dangerous  hour. 

If  wounded  love  my  bosom  swell. 
Deceived  by  those  I  prized  too  well ; 
He  shall  His  pitying  aid  bestow. 
Who  felt  on  earth  severer  woe  ; 
At  once  betrayed,  denied,  or  fled. 
By  those  who  shared  His  daily  bread. 

If  vexing  thoughts  within  me  rise, 
And,  sore  dismayed,  my  spirit  dies  ; 
Still  He,  who  once  vouchsafed  to  bear 
The  sickening  anguish  of  despair, 
Shall  sweetly  soothe,  shall  gently  dry, 
The  throbbing  heart,  the  streaming  eye. 


424  The  Book  of  Praise. 

When  sorrowing  o'er  some  stone  I  bend, 
Which  covers  what  was  once  a  friend, 
And  from  his  voice,  his  hand,  his  smile, 
Divides  me  for  a  Httle  while  ; 
Thou,  Saviour,  mark'st  the  tears  I  shed. 
For  Thou  didst  weep  o'er  Lazarus  dead  ! 

And  O  !  when  I  have  safely  past 
Through  every  conflict  but  the  last ; 
Still,  still  unchanging,  watch  beside 
My  painful  bed,  for  Thou  hast  died  ! 
Then  point  to  realms  of  cloudless  day, 
And  wipe  the  latest  tear  away  ! 

Sir  Robert  Grant.    1 806— 1 8 1 2. 


CCCXCIX. 

Whate'er  my  God  ordains  is  right  i 

His  will  is  ever  just ; 
Howe'er  He  orders  now  my  cause, 
I  will  be  still  and  trust. 
He  is  my  God  ; 
Though  dark  my  road. 
He  holds  mie  that  I  shall  not  fall ; 
Wherefore  to  Him  I  leave  it  all. 

Whate'er  my  God  ordains  is  right ; 

He  never  will  deceive  ; 
He  leads  me  by  the  proper  path. 
And  so  to  Him  I  cleave. 
And  take  content 
What  He  hath  sent ; 
His  hand  can  turn  my  griefs  away, 
And  patiently  I  wait  His  day. 


Discipline.  425 

Whate'er  my  God  ordains  is  right ; 

He  taketh  thought  for  me  ; 
The  cup  that  my  Physician  gives 
No  poisoned  draught  can  be, 
But  medicine  due  ; 
For  God  is  true  ; 
And  on  that  changeless  truth  I  build, 
And  all  my  heart  with  hope  is  fill'd. 

Whate'er  my  God  ordains  is  right ; 

Though  I  the  cup  must  drink 
That  bitter  seems  to  my  faint  heart, 
I  will  not  fear  nor  shrink ; 
Tears  pass  away 
With  dawn  of  day  ; 
Sweet  comfort  yet  shall  fill  my  heart, 
And  pain  and  sorrow  all  depart. 

Whate'er  my  God  ordains  is  right ; 

My  Light,  my  Life  is  He, 
Who  cannot  will  me  aught  but  good  ; 
I  trust  Him  utterly; 
For  well  I  know, 
In  joy  or  woe. 
We  soon  shall  see  as  sunlight  clear. 
How  faithful  was  our  Guardian  here. 

Whate'er  my  God  ordains  is  right ; 

Here  will  I  take  my  stand. 
Though  sorrow,  need,  or  death  make  earth 
For  me  a  desert  land. 
My  Father's  care 
Is  round  me  there ; 
He  holds  me  that  I  shall  not  fall, 
And  so  to  Him  I  leave  it  all. 

Catherine  IVitikworth.  1858. 
{From  S.  Rodigasi.) 


426  The  Book  of  Praise. 

VIII. 

PATIENCE. 

''^Be  patient,  therefore,  brethren,  unto  the  CQ7ni7ig  of 
the  Lordr — Qames  v.  7.) 

cccc. 
When  languor  and  disease  invade 

This  trembhng  house  of  clay, 
'Tis  sweet  to  look  beyond  the  cage, 

And  long  to  fly  away. 

Sweet  to  look  inward,  and  attend 

The  whispers  of  His  love  ; 
Sweet  to  look  upward  to  the  place 

Where  Jesus  pleads  above. 

Sweet  to  look  back,  and  see  my  Name 

In  Life's  fair  book  set  down  ; 
Sweet  to  look  forward,  and  behold 

Eternal  joys  my  own. 

Sweet  to  reflect,  how  Grace  Divine 

My  sins  on  Jesus  laid  ; 
Sweet  to  remember,  that  His  Blood 

My  debt  of  sufferings  paid. 

Sweet  on  His  Righteousness  to  stand 
Which  saves  from  second  death  ; 

Sweet  to  experience,  day  by  day. 
His  Spirit's  quickening  breath. 

Sweet  on  His  faithfulness  to  rest, 

Whose  love  can  never  end  ; 
Sweet  on  His  covenant  of  grace 

For  all  things  to  depend. 


Patience.  427 

Sweet  in  the  confidence  of  faith 

To  trust  His  firm  decrees  ; 
Sweet  to  lie  passive  in  His  hand, 

And  know  no  will  but  His. 

Sweet  to  rejoice  in  lively  hope, 
That,  when  my  change  shall  come, 

Angels  will  hover  round  my  bed, 
And  waft  my  spirit  home. 

There  shall  my  disimprison'd  soul 

Behold  Him,  and  adore  ; 
Be  with  His  Likeness  satisfied, 

And  grieve  and  sin  no  more  ; 

Shall  see  Him  wear  that  very  Flesh 

On  which  my  guilt  was  lain  ; 
His  Love  intense,  His  Merit  fresh. 

As  though  but  newly  slain  ! 

Soon,  too,  my  slumbering  dust  shall  hear 
The  Trumpet's  quickening  sound  ; 

And,  by  my  Saviour's  Power  rebuilt, 
At  His  right  hand  be  found. 

These  eyes  shall  see  Him  in  that  day, 

The  God  that  died  for  me  ! 
And  all  my  rising  bones  shall  say. 

Lord,  who  is  like  to  Thee  .^ 

If  such  the  views  which  grace  unfolds, 

Weak  as  it  is  below, 
What  raptures  must  the  Church  al30\e 

In  Jesus'  Presence  know  ! 


428  The  Book  of  Praise. 

If  such  the  sweetness  of  the  stream, 

What  must  the  Fountain  be, 
Where  saints  and  angels  draw  their  bhss 

Immediately  from  Thee  ! 

O  !  may  the  unction  of  these  truths 

For  ever  with  me  stay, 
Till,  from  her  sinful  cage  dismiss'd, 

My  spirit  flies  away  ! 

Atigustus  Montague  Toplady.  1777. 

CCCCI. 

We're  bound  for  yonder  land 
Where  Jesus  reigns  supreme  ; 
We  leave  the  shore  at  His  command, 
Forsaking  all  for  Him. 

The  perils  of  the  sea, 
The  rocks,  the  waves,  the  wind, 
Are  small,  whatever  they  may  be, 
To  those  we  leave  behind. 

Nor  have  we  cause  to  fear  ; 
The  God,  who  rules  the  sea, 
In  every  danger  will  be  near, 
And  our  protector  be. 

The  Lord  Himself  will  keep 
His  people  safe  from  harm, 
Will  hold  the  helm,  and  guide  the  ship. 
With  His  Almighty  arm. 

Then  let  the  tempests  roar, 
The  billows  heave  and  swell ; 
We  trust  to  reach  the  peaceful  shore 
Where  all  the  ransom'd  dwell ; 


Patience.  429 

And,  when  we  gain  the  land, 
How  happy  shall  we  be  ! 
How  shall  we  bless  the  mighty  Hand 
That  led  us  through  the  sea  ! 

Thomas  Kelly.  i8ogt 


CCCCII. 

Rejoice,  though  storms  assail  thee  ; 

Rejoice,  w^hen  skies  are  bright ; 
Rejoice,  though  round  thy  pathway 

Is  spread  the  gloom  of  night : 
If  the  good  hope  be  in  thee 

That  all  at  last  is  well, 
Then  let  thy  happy  spirit 

With  joyful  feelings  swell ! 

Look  back  on  early  childhood, 

And  let  thy  soul  rejoice  ! 
Who  then  upheld  thy  goings, 

And  tuned  thy  feeble  voice  ? 
Look  back  on  youth's  gay  visions 

When  life  one  glory  seem'd  : 
Who  pour'd  those  rays  of  gladness 

Which  on  thy  prospect  beam'd  ? 

Recall  the  hours  of  anguish, 

And  let  thy  soul  rejoice. 
Though  wave  on  wave  of  sorrow 

Rush  on  with  fearful  noise  : 
Was  not  the  Bow  of  Promise 

Still  seen  amidst  the  gloom, 
Shedding  its  hallow'd  lustre 

E'en  round  the  silent  tomb  ? 


430  The  Book  of  Praise. 

Rejoice,  rejoice  for  ever, 

Though  earthly  friends  be  gone  ! 
For  silently  and  swiftly 

The  wheels  of  time  roll  on  ; 
And  still  they  bear  thee  forward 

Nearer  that  happy  shore, 
While  the  triumphant  song  is, 

Rejoice  for  evermore  ! 

Anon.  [1825.] 


CCCCIII. 

Nearer,  my  God,  to  Thee, 

Nearer  to  Thee  ! 
E'en  though  it  be  a  cross 

That  raiseth  me  ; 
Still  all  my  song  shall  be, 
Nearer,  my  God,  to  Thee, 

Nearer  to  Thee  ! 

Though  like  the  wanderer. 
The  sun  gone  down. 

Darkness  be  over  me, 
My  rest  a  stone  ; 

Yet  in  my  dreams  I'd  be 

Nearer,  my  God,  to  Thee, 
Nearer  to  Thee ! 

There  let  the  way  appear    . 

Steps  unto  Heaven  ; 
All  that  Thou  send'st  to  me 

In  mercy  given  ; 
Angels  to  beckon  me 
Nearer,  my  God,  to  Thee, 

Nearer  to  Thee  ! 


Patience.  43 ' 

Then  with  my  waking  thoughts 

Bright  with  Thy  praise, 
Out  of  my  stony  griefs 

Bethel  I'll  raise  ; 
So  by  my  woes  to  be 
Nearer,  my  God,  to  Thee, 

Nearer  to  Thee  ! 

Or  if  on  joyful  wing 

Cleaving  the  sky, 
Sun,  moon,  and  stars  forgot, 

Upwards  I  fly, 
Still  all  my  song  shall  be. 
Nearer,  my  God,  to  Thee, 

Nearer  to  Thee  ! 

Sarah  Flower  Adams.  1840. 


CCCCIV. 

Lead,  kindly  Light,  amid  th'  encircling  gloom, 

Lead  Thou  me  on  ; 
The  night  is  dark,  and  I  am  far  from  home  ; 

Lead  Thou  me  on  ; 
Keep  Thou  my  feet ;  I  do  not  ask  to  see 
The  distant  scene  ;  one  step  enough  for  me. 

I  was  not  ever  thus,  nor  pray'd,  that  Thou 

Shouldst  lead  me  on  ; 
I  loved  to  choose  and  see  my  path  ;  but  now 

Lead  Thou  me  on  ! 
I  loved  the  garish  day,  and,  spite  of  fears, 
Pride  ruled  my  will :     Remember  not  past  years  I 


432  The  Book  of  Praise, 

So  long  Thy  Power  has  blest  me,  sure  it  still 

Will  lead  me  on 
O'er  moor  and  fen,  o'er  crag  and  torrent,  till 

The  night  is  gone, 
And  with  the  morn  those  angel  faces  smile 
Which  I  have  loved  long  since,  and  lost  awhile  ! 

John  Henry  Newman.  1833. 


CCCCV. 

Abide  with  me  !  fast  falls  the  even-tide  ; 
The  darkness  deepens  ;  Lord,  with  me  abide  ! 
When  other  helpers  fail,  and  comforts  flee, 
Help  of  the  helpless,  O  abide  with  me  ! 

Swift  to  its  close  ebbs  out  life's  little  day ; 
Earth's  joys  grow  dim  ;  its  glories  pass  away  ; 
Change  and  decay  in  all  around  I  see  ; 
O  Thou,  who  changest  not,  abide  with  me  ! 

Not  a  brief  glance  I  beg,  a  passing  word  ; 
But,  as  Thou  dwell'st  wit"h  Thy  disciples,  Lord, 
Famihar,  condescending,  patient,  free, 
Come,  not  to  sojourn,  but  abide,  with  me  ! 

Come  not  in  terrors,  as  the  King  of  kings  ; 
But  kind  and  good,  with  healing  in  Thy  wings  ; 
Tears  for  all  woes,  a  heart  for  every  plea ; 
Come,  Friend  of  sinners,  and  thus  'bide  with  me  ! 

Thou  on  my  head  in  early  youth  didst  smile  ; 
And,  though  rebellious  and  perverse  meanwhile, 
Thou  hast  not  left  me,  oft  as  I  left  Thee 
On  to  the  close,  O  Lord^  abide  with  me  ! 


Patience.  433 

I  need  Thy  Presence  every  passing  hour  : 
What  but  Thy  grace  can  foil  the  Tempter's  power  ? 
Who  Hke  Thyself  my  guide  and  stay  can  be  ? 
Through  cloud  and  sunshine,  O  abide  with  me  ! 

I  fear  no  foe,  with  Thee  at  hand  to  bless  : 
Ills  have  no  weight,  and  tears  no  bitterness : 
Where  is  death's  sting  ?  where,  Grave,  thy  victory  ? 
I  triumph  still,  if  Thou  abide  with  me  ! 

Hold  then  Thy  cross  before  my  closing  eyes  ! 
Shine  through  the  gloom,  and  point  me  to  the  skies ! 
Heaven's  morning  breaks,  and  earth's  vain  shadows 

flee; 
In  life  and  death,  O  Lord,  abide  with  me  ! 

Henry  Francis  Lyte.    1847. 


CCCCVI. 

Commit  thou  all  thy  griefs 
And  ways  into  His  hands. 
To  His  sure  Truth  and  tender  care, 
Who  earth  and  Heaven  commands. 

Who  points  the  clouds  their  course. 
Whom  winds  and  seas  obey, 
He  shall  direct  thy  wandering  feet, 
He  shall  prepare  thy  way. 

Thou  on  the  Lord  rely  ; 
So  safe  shalt  thou  go  on  ; 
Fix  on  His  Work  thy  stedfast  eye, 
So  shall  thy  work  be  done. 

F  F 


434  The  Book  of  Praise. 

No  profit  canst  thou  gain 
By  self-consuming  care  ; 
To  Him  commend  thy  cause  ;  His  ear 
Attends  the  softest  prayer. 

Thy  everlasting  Truth, 
Father  !  Thy  ceaseless  love, 
Sees  all  Thy  children's  wants,  and  knows 
What  best  for  each  will  prove. 

And  whatsoe'er  Thou  will'st 
Thou  dost,  O  King  of  kings  ; 
What  Thy  unerring  Wisdom  chose, 
Thy  Power  to  being  brings. 

Thou  everywhere  hast  sway, 
And  all  things  serve  Thy  might  ; 
Thy  every  act  pure  blessing  is, 
Thy  path  unsullied  light. 

When  Thou  arisest.  Lord, 
Who  shall  Thy  work  withstand  ? 
When  all  Thy  children  want  Thou  giv'st. 
Who,  who  shall  stay  Thy  hand  ? 

Give  to  the  winds  thy  fears  ; 
Hope,  and  be  undismayed  ; 
God  hears  thy  sighs,  and  counts  thy  tears, 
God  shall  hft  up  thy  head. 

Through  waves  and  clouds  and  storms, 
He  gently  clears  thy  way  ; 
Wait  thou  His  time  ;  so  shall  this  night 
Soon  end  in  joyous  day. 


Patience.  435 

Still  heavy  is  thy  heart  ? 
Still  sink  thy  spirits  down  ? 
Cast  off  the  weight,  let  fear  depart, 
And  every  care  be  gone. 

What  though  thou  rulest  not  ? 
Yet  Heaven  and  earth  and  hell 
Proclaim,  God  sitteth  on  the  Throne, 
And  ruleth  all  things  well ! 

Leave  to  His  sovereign  sway 
To  choose  and  to  command  ; 
So  shalt  thou  wondering  own,  His  way 
How  wise,  how  strong  His  hand  ! 

Far,  far  above  thy  thought 
His  counsel  shall  appear, 
When  fully  He  the  work  hath  wrought 
71iat  caused  thy  needless  fear. 

Tliou  seest  our  weakness.  Lord  ! 
Our  hearts  are  known  to  Thee  : 
Oh  !  lift  Thou  up  the  sinking  hand, 
Confirm  the  feeble  knee  ! 

Let  us,  in  life,  m  death, 
Thy  stedfast  Truth  declare, 
And  publish,  with  our  latest  breath, 
Thy  love  and  guardian  care  ! 

John  Wesley.  172>9- 
{From  Paul  Gerhardt] 

CCCCVII. 
Your  harps,  ye  trembling  saints, 
Down  from  the  willows  take  ; 
Loud  to  the  praise  of  Love  divine, 
Bid  every  string  awake. 
F  F  2 


436  The  Book  of  Praise. 

Though  in  a  foreign  land, 
We  are  not  far  from  home  ; 
And  nearer  to  our  house  above, 
We  every  moment  come. 


His  Grace  will  to  the  end 
Stronger  and  brighter  shine  ; 
Nor  present  things,  nor  things  to  come, 
Shall  quench  the  spark  divine. 

Fasten'd  within  the  vail, 
Hope  be  your  anchor  strong  ; 
His  loving  Spirit  the  sweet  gale 
That  wafts  you  smooth  along. 

Or,  should  the  surges  rise. 
And  peace  delay  to  come, 
Blest  is  the  sorrow,  kind  the  storm, 
That  drives  us  nearer  home. 

The  people  of  His  choice 
He  will  not  cast  away  ; 
Yet  do  not  always  here  expect 
On  Tabor's  mount  to  stay. 

When  we  in  darkness  walk, 
Nor  feel  the  heavenly  -flame, 
Then  is  the  time  to  trust  our  God, 
And  rest  upon  His  Name. 

Soon  shall  our  doubts  and  fears 
Subside  at  His  control ; 
His  loving-kindness  shall  break  through 
The  midnight  of  the  soul. 


Patie7ice.  437 

No  wonder,  when  His  Love 
Pervades  your  kindling  breast, 
You  wish  for  ever  to  retain 
The  heart-transporting  Guest. 

Yet  learn,  in  every  state, 
To  make  His  will  your  own  ; 
And,  when  the  joys  of  sense  depart, 
To  walk  by  faith  alone. 

By  anxious  fear  depress'd, 
When  from  the  deep  ye  mourn, 
"  Lord,  why  so  hasty  to  depart, 
"  So  tedious  in  return  1 " 

Still  on  His  plighted  Love 
At  all  events  rely  ; 
The  very  hidings  of  His  face 
Shall  train  thee  up  to  joy. 

Wait,  till  the  shadows  flee  ; 
Wait  thy  appointed  hour  ; 
Wait,  till  the  Bridegroom  of  thy  soul 
Reveal  His  Love  with  power. 

The  time  of  Love  will  come, 
When  thou  shalt  clearly  see. 
Not  only  that  He  shed  His  Blood, 
But  that  it  flowed  for  thee ! 

Tarry  His  leisure,  then. 
Although  He  seem  to  stay  ; 
A  moment's  intercourse  with  Him 
Thy  grief  will  overpay. 


438  The  Book  of  Pi-aise. 

Blest  is  the  man,  O  God, 
That  stays  himself  on  Thee  ! 
Who  wait  for  Thy  salvation,  Lord, 
Shall  Thy  salvation  see  ! 

Augustus  Montag7ie  Toplacfy.  1772. 


CCCCVIII. 

Through  the  love  of  God  our  Saviour 

All  will  be  well ; 
Free  and  changeless  is  His  favour ; 

All,  all  is  well ! 
Precious  is  the  Blood  that  heal'd  us, 
Perfect  is  the  grace  that  seal'd  us, 
Strong  the  Hand  stretch'd  forth  to  shield  us  ; 

All  must  be  well ! 

Though  we  pass  through  tribulation, 

All  will  be  well ; 
Ours  is  such  a  full  salvation. 

All,  all  is  well ! 
Happy,  still  to  God  confiding, 
Fruitful,  if  in  Christ  abiding, 
Holy,  through  the  Spirit's  guiding ; 

All  must  be  well ! 

We  expect  a  bright  to-morrow, 

All  will  be  well ; 
Faith  can  sing  through  days  of  sorrow, 

All,  all  is  well ! 
On  our  Father's  love  relying, 
Jesus  every  need  supplying, 
Or  in  living,  or  in  dying, 

All  must  be  well ! 

Mary  Bowly.  1 847. 


Patience.  439 


CCCCIX. 


Rest  weary  soul  ! 
The  penalty  is  borne,  the  ransom  paid, 
For  all  thy  sins  full  satisfaction  made  ; 
Strive  not  to  do  thyself  what  Christ  has  done, 
Claim  the  free  gift,  and  make  the  joy  thine  own  ; 
No  more  by  pangs  of  guilt  and  fear  distrest, 

Rest,  sweetly  rest  ! 

Rest,  weary  heart. 
From  all  thy  silent  griefs,  and  secret  pain, 
Thy  profitless  regrets,  and  longings  vain  ; 
Wisdom  and  love  have  ordered  all  the  past. 
All  shall  be  blessedness  and  light  at  last ; 
Cast  off  the  cares  that  have  so  long  opprest ; 

Rest,  sweetly  rest ! 

Rest,  weary  head  ! 
Lie  down  to  slumber  in  the  peaceful  tomb  : 
Light  from  above  has  broken  through  its  gloom  ; 
Here,  in  the  place  where  once  thy  Saviour  lay, 
Where  He  shall  wake  thee  on  a  future  day. 
Like  a  tired  child  upon  its  mother's  breast. 

Rest,  sweetly  rest ! 

Rest,  spirit  free  ! 
In  the  green  pastures  of  the  heavenly  shofe, 
W^here  sin  and  sorrow  can  approach  no  more, 
With  all  the  flock  by  the  Good  Shepherd  fed, 
Beside  the  streams  of  Life  eternal  led. 
For  ever  with  thy  God  and  Saviour  blest. 

Rest,  sweetly  rest ! 

Auon.''H.L.  Lr   1859. 


440  The  Book  of  Praise, 

ccccx. 

For  ever  with  the  Lord  ! 
Amen  !  so  let  it  be  ! 
Life  from  the  dead  is  in  that  word, 
And  immortahty ! 

Here  in  the  body  pent, 
Absent  from  Him  I  roam, 
Yet  nightly  pitch  my  moving  tent 
A  day's  march  nearer  home. 

My  Father's  house  on  high, 
Home  of  my  soul !  how  near, 
At  times,  to  faith's  foreseeing  eye, 
Thy  golden  gates  appear  ! 

Ah  !  then  my  spirit  faints 
To  reach  the  land  I  love. 
The  bright  inheritance  of  saints, 
Jerusalem  above  ! 

Yet  clouds  will  intervene, 
And  all  my  prospect  flies  ; 
Like  N^^h's  dove,  I  flit  between 
Rough  seas  and  stormy  skies. 

Anon  the  clouds  depart, 
The  winds  and  waters  cease  ; 
While  sweetly  o'er  my  gladden'd  heart 
Expands  the  bow  of  peace  ! 

Beneath  its  glowing  arch, 
Along  the  hallow'd  ground, 
I  see  cherubic  armies  march, 
A  camp  of  fire  around. 


Patience.  441 

I  hear  at  morn  and  even, 
At  noon  and  midnight  hour, 
The  choral  harmonies  of  Heaven 
Earth's  Babel  tongues  o'erpower. 

Then,  then  I  feel,  that  He, 
Remember'd  or  forgot. 
The  Lord,  is  never  far  from  me. 
Though  I  perceive  Him  not. 

James  Montgomery.  1853. 


CCCCXI. 

The  God  of  Abraham  praise, 
Who  reigns  enthroned  above, 
Ancient  of  everlasting  days, 
And  God  of  Love  ! 
Jehovah  !  Great  I  Am  ! 
By  earth  and  Heaven  confest ; 
I  bow  and  bless  the  sacred  Name, 
For  ever  blest ! 

The  God  of  Abraham  praise  ! 
At  whose  supreme  command 
From  earth  I  rise,  and  seek  the  joys 
At  His  right  hand  : 
I  all  on  earth  forsake, 
Its  wisdom,  fame,  and  power. 
And  Him  my  only  portion  make, 
My  Shield  and  Tower. 

The  God  of  Abraham  praise  ! 
Whose  all-sufficient  grace 
Shall  guide  me  all  my  happy  day? 
In  all  my  ways  : 


442  The  Book  of  Praise. 

He  calls  a  worm  His  friend  ! 
He  calls  Himself  my  God ! 
And  He  shall  save  me  to  the  end 
Through  Jesus'  Blood. 

He  by  Himself  hath  sworn, 
I  on  His  oath  depend  ; 
I  shall,  on  eagle's  wings  upborne. 
To  Heaven  ascend ; 
I  shall  behold  His  face, 
I  shall  His  power  adore, 
And  sing  the  wonders  of  His  grace 
For  evermore  ! 

Though  nature's  strength  decay. 
And  earth  and  hell  withstand, 
To  Canaan's  bounds  I  urge  my  way 
At  His  command  : 
The  wateiy  deep  I  pass 
With  Jesus  in  my  view, 
And  through  the  howling  wilderness 
My  way  pursue. 

The  goodly  land  I  see, 
With  peace  and  plenty  blest, 
A  land  of  sacred  liberty, 
And  endless  rest : 
There  milk  and  honey  flow, 
And  oil  and  wine  abound, 
And  trees  of  life  for  ever  grow. 
With  Mercy  crown'd. 

There  dwells  the  Lord  our  King, 
The  Lord  our  Righteousness, 
Triumphant  o'er  the  world  and  sin, 
The  Prince  of  Peace  1 


Patience.  443 

On  Sion's  sacred  height 
His  kingdom  still  maintains, 
And,  glorious  with  His  saints  in  light, 
For  ever  reigns  ! 

He  keeps  His  own  secure  ; 
He  guards  them  by  His  side  ; 
Arrays  in  garments  white  and  pure 
His  spotless  Bride  ; 
With  streams  of  sacred  bliss, 
With  groves  of  living  joys. 
With  all  the  fruits  of  Paradise, 
He  still  supplies. 

Before  the  great  Three-One 
They  all  exulting  stand, 
And  tell  the  wonders  He  hath  done 
Through  all  their  land  ; 
The  listening  spheres  attend 
And  swell  the  growing  fame, 
And  sing,  in  songs  which  never  end, 
The  wondrous  Name  ! 

The  God,  who  reigns  on  high, 
The  great  Archangels  sing, 
And,  "  Holy,  holy,  holy,"  cry, 
"Almighty  King ! 
"Who  Was,  and  Is,  the  same, 
"  And  evermore  shall  be  ! 
"  Jehovah  !  Father  !  Great  I  Am  ! 
"We  worship  Thee  !" 

Before  the  Saviours  face 
The  ransom'd  nations  bow, 
O'erwhelm'd  at  His  Almighty  grace, 
For  ever  new  : 


444  The  Book  of  Praise. 

He  shows  His  prints  of  love  ; 
They  kindle  to  a  flame, 
And  sound,  through  all  the  worlds  above, 
The  slaughter'd  Lamb  ! 

The  whole  triumphant  host 
Give  thanks  to  God  on  high  ; 
"  Hail !  Father,  Son,  and  Holy  Ghost !" 
They  ever  cry : 
Hail !  Abraham's  God,  and  mine  ! 
I  join  the  heavenly  lays  ; 
All  might  and  majesty  are  Thine, 
And  endless  praise ! 

Thomas  Olivers.  1772. 


CCCCXII. 

Rev.  vii.  9—17. 

I  saw,  and  lo  !  a  countless  throng, 
Th'  elect  of  every  nation,  name,  and  tongue. 
Assembled  round  the  everlasting  Throne  ; 

With  robes  of  white  endued, 

The  Righteousness  of  God  ; 

And  each  a  palm  sustain'd 

In  his  victorious  hand  ; 
When  thus  the  bright  melodious  choir  begun 

"  Salvation  to  Thy  Name, 
"  Eternal  God,  and  co-eternal  Lamb  ! 
"  In  power,  in  glory,  and  in  Essence,  One  !" 

So  sung  the  Saints.     Th'  Angelic  train 
Second  the  anthem  with  a  loud  Amen  : 
(These  in  the  outer  circle  stood, 
The  Saints  were  nearest  God  ;) 


Patic?ice.  445 

And  prostrate  fall,  with  glory  overpower'd, 
And  hide  their  faces  with  their  wings, 
And  thus  address  the  King  of  kings  : 

"  All  hail !  by  Thy  triumphant  Church  adored  ! 
"  Blessing  and  thanks  and  honour  too 

"  Are  Thy  supreme,  Thy  everlasting  due, 

"Our  Triune  Sovereign,  our  propitious  Lord  !" 

Wliile  I  beheld  th'  amazing  sight, 
A  Seraph  pointed  to  the  Saints  in  white. 
And  told  me  who  they  were, and  whence  they  came: 
"  These  are  they,  whose  lot  below 
"  Was  persecution,  pain,  and  woe  ; 
"  These  are  the  chosen  purchased  Flock, 
"  Who  ne'er  their  Lord  forsook  ; 
"Through  His  imputed  Merit  free  from  blame  ; 

"  Redeem'd  from  every  sin  ; 
"And,  as  thou  seest,  whose  garments  were  made 

clean, 
"  Wash'd  in  the  Blood  of  yon  Exalted  Lamb. 

"  Saved  by  His  Righteousness  alone, 
"  Spotless  they  stand  before  the  Throne, 

"And  in  th'  ethereal'  Temple  chant  His  praise  : 
"  Himself  among  them  deigns  to  dwell, 
"And  face  to  face  His  Light  reveal : 
"  Hunger  and  thirst,  as  heretofore, 
"  And  pain,  and  heat,  they  know  no  more, 

"  Nor  need,  as  once,  the  sun's  proUfic  rays  : 
"  Immanuel  here  His  people  feeds, 
"  To  streams  of  joy  perennial  leads, 

"And  wipes,  for  ever  wipes,  the  tears  from  every  face." 

Happy  the  souls  released  from  fear, 
And  safely  landed  there  1 


446  The  Book  of  Praise. 

Some  of  the  shining  number  once  I  knew, 
And  travell'd  with  them  here  : 
Nay  some,  my  elder  brethren  now, 
Set  later  out  for  Heaven,  my  junior  saints  below : 
Long  after  me,  they  heard  the  call  of  Grace 
Which  waked  them  unto  Righteousness  : 
How  have  they  got  beyond  ! 
Converted  last,  yet  first  with  glory  crown'd  ! 
Little,  once,  I  thought  that  these 
Would  first  the  Summit  gain, 
And  leave  me  far  behind,  slow  journeying  through 
the  Plain. 

Loved  while  on  earth  !  nor  less  belov'd,  tho'  gone  ! 

Think  not  I  envy  you  your  crown  : 
No  !  if  I  could,  I  would  not  call  you  down  ! 
Though  slower  is  my  pace. 
To  you  I'll  follow  on, 
Leaning  on  Jesus  all  the  way  ; 
Who,  now  and  then,  lets  fall  a  ray 
Of  comfort  from  His  Throne  : 
The  shinings  of  His  grace 
Soften  my  passage  through  the  wilderness  ; 
And  vines,  nectareous,  spring  where  briers  grew  : 

The  sweet  unveilings  of  His  Face 
Make  me,  at  times,  near  half  as  blest  as  you  ! 
O  !  might  His  Beauty  feast  my  ravish'd  eyes. 
His  gladdening  Presence  ever  stay, 
And  cheer  me  all  my  journey  through  ! 
But  soon  the  clouds  return  ;  my  triumph  dies  ; 

Damp  vapours  from  the  valley  rise. 
And  hide  the  hill  of  Sion  from  my  view. 

Spirit  of  Light !  thrice  holy  Dove  ! 
Brighten  my  sense  of  mterest  in  that  Love 


Patience.  447 

Which  knew  no  birth,  and  never  shall  expire  ! 
Electing  Goodness,  firm  and  free, 
My  whole  salvation  hangs  on  thee, 
Eldest  and  fairest  daughter  of  Eternity  ! 
Redemption,  grace,  and  glory  too, 
Our  bliss  above,  and  hopes  below. 
From  her,  their  parent-fountain,  flow. 
Ah  !  tell  me.  Lord,  that  Thou  hast  chosen  me  ! 
Thou,  who  hast  kindled  my  intense  desire, 
Fulfil  the  wish  Thy  influence  did  inspire, 

And  let  me  my  election  know  ! 
Then,  when  Thy  summons   bids   me   come   up 
higher, 
Well  pleased  I  shall  from  life  retire. 
And  join  the  burning  hosts,  beheld  at  distance  now. 
Augustus  Montague  Toplady.  1759 — 1774- 


ADDITIONAL    HYMNS. 


G  G 


ADDITIONAL   HYMNS. 

Christ  Incarnate. 
1 

When  Thou,  O  Lord,  in  flesh  wert  drest, 
The  world  Thou  mad'st  to  free. 

The  Inn,  where  weary  travellers  rest, 
Had  not  a  room  for  Thee. 

The  Holy  Babe  in  manger  rude 

Was  all  His  birth-night  laid  ; 
Pondering  God's  words,  in  thoughtful  mood, 

Nigh  watched  the  Mother  Maid. 

But  oh  !  that  wondrous  midnight  round 
What  light,  what  glories  throng, 

When  man  his  infant  Saviour  found, 
And  heard  the  angels'  song  ! 

Sweet  anthem  !  caught  from  hosts  on  high. 

Dwell  thou  our  hearts  within  ; 
Blest  bridal  of  the  earth  and  sky, 

Long  separate  through  sin. 

Though  all  unmeet  that  gladsome  hymn 

For  harps  by  sin  unstrung, 
That  psalm,  by  white-robed  seraphim 

In  God's  own  presence  sung, 
G  G  2 


452  The  Book  of  Praise. 

Yet  sometimes,  when  our  spirit  tires, 
By  toil  and  darkness  worn, 

Lord  !  make  us  hear  seraphic  choirs, 
And  give  a  ghmpse  of  morn  ! 

If  love  wax  cold,  and  strife  increase, 
Chant  in  our  hearts  again, 

"  Glory  to  God  on  high,  and  peace 
"  On  earth,  good  will  to  men  !  " 

yoseph  Aiistice. 


Brightest  and  best  of  the  sons  of  the  morning ! 

Dawn  on  our  darkness,  and  lend  us  Thine  aid  ! 
Star  of  the  East,  the  horizon  adorning, 

Guide  where  our  infant  Redeemer  is  laid  ! 

Cold  on  His  cradle  the  dew-drops  are  shining ; 

Low  lies  His  head  with  the  beasts  of  the  stall ; 
Angels  adore  Him,  in  slumber  reclining. 

Maker  and  Monarch  and  Saviour  of  all. 

Say,  shall  we  yield  Him,  in  costly  devotion, 
Odours  of  Edom  and  offerings  divine  ? 

Gems  of  the  mountain,  and  pearls  of  the  ocean, 
Myrrh  from,  the  forest,  or  gold  from  the  mJne  ? 

Vainly  we  offer  each  ample  oblation  ; 

Vainly  with  gifts  would  His  favour  secure  : 
Richer  by  far  is  the  heart's  adoration  ; 

Dearer  to  God  are  the  prayers  of  the  poor. 


■Christ  Crucified.  453 

Brightest  and  best  of  the  sons  of  the  morning  \ 
Dawn  on  our  darkness  and  lend  us  Thine  aid  ! 

Star  of  the  East,  the  horizon  adorning, 
Guide  where  our  infant  Redeemer  is  laid  ! 

Bishop  Reginald  Heber.  1 8 1 1 . 


Christ  Crucified. 

3 

Ana  was  crucified  for  us  under  Po7itius  Pilate 

He  suffered,  and  was  buried!'' 

Ride  on  !  ride  on  in  majesty  ! 
Hark  !  all  the  tribes  Hosanna  cry  ! 
Thine  humble  beast  pursues  his  road, 
With  palms  and  scattered  garments  strow'd. 

Ride  on  !  ride  on  in  majesty  ! 

In  lowly  pomp  ride  on  to  die  I 

O  Christ !  Thy  triumphs  now  begin 

O'er  captive  Death  and  conqucr'd  Sin. 

Ride  on  I  ride  on  in  majesty  ! 
The  winged  squadrons  of  the  sky 
Look  down  with  sad  and  wondering  eyes 
To  see  the  approaching  Sacrifice. 

Ride  on  !  ride  on  in  majesty  ! 
Thy  last  and  fiercest  strife  is  nigh  ; 
The  Father  on  His  sapphire  Throne 
Expects  His  own  anointed  Son. 

Ride  on  !  ride  on  in  majesty  ! 
In  lowly  pomp  ride  on  to  die  ! 
Bow  Thy  meek  Head  to  mortal  pain  ! 
Then  take,  O  God  !  Thy  power,  and  reign  I 
Henry  Hart  Milniaft.  1 827. 


454  The  Book  of  Praise. 


Bound  upon  th'  accursed  tree, 
Faint  and  bleeding,  Who  is  He  ? 
By  the  eyes  so  pale  and  dim. 
Streaming  blood,  and  writhing  limb, 
By  the  flesh,  with  scourges  torn, 
By  the  crown  of  twisted  thorn, 
By  the  side,  so  deeply  pierc'd, 
By  the  baffled  burning  thirst, 
By  the  drooping  death-dew'd  brow, 


Bound  upon  th'  accursed  tree, 
Dread  and  awful.  Who  is  He  ? 
By  the  sun  at  noonday  pale. 
Shivering  rocks,  and  rending  veil, 
By  earth,  that  trembles  at  His  doom, 
By  yonder  saints,  that  burst  their  tomb, 
By  Eden,  promised  ere  He  died 
To  the  felon  at  His  side. 
Lord,  our  suppliant  knees  we  bow  ; 
Son  of  God  !  'tis  Thou,  'tis  Thou  ! 

Bound  upon  th'  accursed  tree, 
Sad  and  dying.  Who  is  He? 
By  the  last  and  bitter  cry, 
The  ghost  giv'n  up  in  agony  ; 
By  the  lifeless  Body,  laid 
In  the  chamber  of  the  dead  ; 
By  the  mourners,  come  to  weep 
Where  the  bones  of  Jesus  sleep  ; 
Crucified  !  we  know  Thee  now  ; 
Son  of  Man  !  'tis  Thou,  'tis  Thou  ! 


Christ  Crucified.  a 

Bound  upon  th'  accursed  tree, 

Dread  and  awful,  Who  is  He? 

By  the  prayer  for  them  that  slew, 

"  Lord  !  they  know  not  what  they  do  I "' 

By  the  spoil'd  and  empty  grave, 

By  the  souls  He  died  to  save, 

By  the  conquest  Fie  hath  won, 

By  the  saints  before  His  Throne, 

By  the  rainbow  round  His  brow, 

Son  of  God  !  'tis  Thou,  'tis  Thou  ! 

Henry  Hart  Miluiaii.   1 82  7. 


Not  all  the  blood  of  beasts, 

On  Jewish  altars  slain, 
Could  give  the  guilty  conscience  peace. 

Or  wash  away  the  stain. 

But  Christ,  the  heavenly  Lamb, 

Takes  all  our  sins  away  ; 
A  Sacrifice  of  nobler  name 

And  richer  blood  than  they. 

My  faith  would  lay  her  hand 

On  that  dear  Head  of  Thine, 
While  like  a  penitent  I  stand, 

And  there  confess  my  sin. 

My  soul  looks  back  to  see 

The  burdens  Thou  didst  bear. 
When  hanging  on  th'  accursed  tree. 

And  hopes  her  guilt  was  there. 

Isaac  Watts.   1709. 


456  The  Book  of  Praise. 

6 

Come,  let  us  join  our  cheerful  songs 
With  angels  round  the  Throne  ; 

Ten  thousand  thousand  are  their  tongues, 
But  all  their  joys  are  one. 

"  Worthy  the  Lamb  that  died,"  they  cry, 

"  To  be  exalted  thus  ! " 
"  Worthy  the  Lamb  !  "  our  lips  reply, 

"  For  He  was  slain  for  us." 

Jesus  is  worthy  to  receive 

Honour  and  power  divine, 
And  blessings,  more  than  we  can  give, 

Be,  Lord,  for  ever  Thine. 

Let  all  that  dwell  above  the  sky. 

And  air,  and  earth,  and  seas. 
Conspire  to  lift  Thy  glories  high. 

And  speak  Thine  endless  praise. 

The  whole  Creation  join  in  one 

To  bless  the  sacred  Name 
Of  Him,  that  sits  upon  the  Throne, 

And  to  adore  the  Lamb  ! 

Isaac  Watts.   1709. 

Christ  Risen. 
7 

Lo  !  the  day  the  Lord  hath  made  ! 
From  the  tomb's  funereal  shade 
Now  the  Sun  of  goodness  brings 
Healing  on  His  radiant  wings  : 


Christ  Risen.  457 

And  before  His  bridal  light 

All  the  denizens  of  night, 

Fear,  and  shame,  and  sorrow  fade  : 

Bless  the  day  the  Lord  hath  made  1 

Angels,  who  the  morn  outrun 
To  adore  the  glorious  Sun  ; 
At  whose  step  the  firm  earth  shakes. 
From  whose  eye  the  lightning  breaks  ; 
Ye,  whose  hand  excels  in  might ; 
Ye,  whose  accents  breathe  delight ; 
Forms  in  dazzling  white  array'd  ; 
Bless  the  day  the  Lord  hath  made  ! 

Holy  women,  whom  the  dawn 
Sees  by  pious  duty  drawn 
To  the  Saviour's  rock-hewn  bed, 
Tears,  and  unguents  rich,  to  shed  ; 
Stay  your  tears,  your  gifts  withhold  ; 
Angel-led,  the  cave  behold, 
Where  the  Savioui-'s  corse  was  laid  : 
Bless  the  day  the  Lord  hath  made  I 

Holy  men,  beloved  pair, 

Who  with  rival  speed  repair 

To  explore  the  inmost  gloom 

Of  the  yet  untrodden  tomb  ; 

Mark  the  clothes,  that  wrapped  Him  round, 

Swathed  His  limbs,  His  temples  bound. 

All  in  seemliest  order  laid  : 

Bless  the  day  the  Lord  hath  made  \ 

First  of  all  the  faithful  train 
To  behold  thy  Lord  again, 
Stay  not,  iVIary,  weeping  here  ; 
See,  thy  Saviour's  self  is  near : 


458  The  Book  of  Praise. 

Quick  thy  mighty  Master  greet, 
Fall  in  homage  at  His  feet : 
All  thy  griefs  are  now  repaid  : 
Bless  the  day  the  Lord  hath  made  ! 

Doubtful  hearts,  whom  late  He  taught, 
Musing  now  in  anxious  thought. 
Cease  your  doubts,  your  sorrows  cease, 
Hear  Him  speak  the  words  of  peace  : 
Deem  your  eyes  no  spirit  meet ; 
Mark  His  pierced  hands  and  feet, 
Mark  His  wounded  side  display'd  : 
Bless  the  day  the  Lord  hath  made  ! 

Church  of  God,  whom  this  fair  morn 

Sees  to  life  and  glory  born, 

Founded  on  the  living  Stone, 

Which  by  Judah's  builders  thrown, 

Thrown  with  infamy  aside, 

Now  becomes  thy  Strength  and  Pride  ; 

Be  thy  debt  of  duty  paid  ; 

Bless  the  day  the  Lord  hath  made  I 

Ever,  as  this  day  shall  rise 
Beaming  in  the  vernal  skies, 
Duly  to  the  Saviour's  praise, 
Church  of  God,  the  anthem  raise  ! 
Christ  our  passover  was  slain  ! 
Keep  the  feast,  and  swell  the  strain  : 
Christ  is  raised  from  the  dead  ! 
Bless  the  day  the  Lord  hath  made  ! 

Bishop  Richard Mant.  1 83 1, 


Christ  Risen.  459 


Ad  tcnipia  nos  rursits  vocat. 

Morning  lifts  her  dewy  veil 

With  new-born  blessings  crown  d  ; 
Let  us  haste  her  light  to  hail 

In  courts  of  holy  ground. 
Christ  hath  shed  a  fairer  morn, 

From  darkness  rising  free  ; 
In  his  glorious  light  new-born, 

Let  us  lift  the  jubilee. 

From  the  swaddling  bands  of  night 

When  sprang  the  Avorld  so  fair, 
Putting  on  her  robes  of  light, 

O  what  a  power  was  there  ! 
When  our  God,  who  gave  His  Son, 

His  guilty  foes  to  spare, 
Woke  to  life  the  guiltless  One, 

O  what  a  love  was  there  ! 

W^hen  from  the  Eternal's  hand 

The  earth  in  beauty  stood, 
Ueck'd  in  light  at  His  command, 

He  saw,  and  called  it  good. 
Yet  a  goodlier  world  it  stood 

In  the  Creator's  sight, 
In  the  Lamb's  all-cleansing  blood 

Wash'd  to  celestial  white. 

Isaac  W'illiaiHS.  1839. 


460  The  Book  of  Praise. 

Christ  Ascended, 
9 

Where  high  the  heavenly  Temple  stands, 
The  house  of  God  not  made  with  hands, 
A  great  High  Priest  our  nature  wears, 
The  guardian  of  mankind  appears. 

He,  who  for  men  their  Surety  stood, 
And  poured  on  earth  His  precious  Blood, 
Pursues  in  Heaven  His  mighty  plan, 
The  Saviour  and  the  Friend  of  man. 

Though  now  ascended  up  on  high, 
He  bends  on  earth  a  Brother's  eye  ; 
Partaker  of  the  human  name, 
He  knows  the  frailty  of  our  frame. 

Our  Fellow-sufferer  yet  retains 
A  fellow-feeling  of  our  pains  ; 
And  still  remembers  in  the  skies 
His  tears.  His  agonies,  and  cries. 

In  every  pang  that  rends  the  heart 
The  Man  of  Sorrows  had  a  part ; 
He  sympathises  with  our  grief. 
And  to  the  sufferer  sends  relief. 

With  boldness,  therefore,  at  the  Throne, 
Let  us  make  all  our  sorrows  known  ; 
And  ask  the  aid  of  Heavenly  power 
To  help  us  in  the  evil  hour. 

John  Logan.  1770. 


CJi  rist  A  seen  dcd^  46 1 


10 


Lord  of  mercy  and  of  might ! 
Of  mankind  the  Life  and  Light  ! 
Maker,  Teacher  Infinite ! 

Jesus  I  hear  and  save  ! 

Who,  when  sin's  tremendous  doom 
Gave  creation  to  the  tomb. 
Didst  not  scorn  the  Virgin's  womb, 
Jesus  !  hear  and  save  ! 

Mighty  Monarch  !  Saviour  mild  ! 
Humbled  to  a  mortal  child. 
Captive,  beaten,  bound,  reviled, 

Jesus  !  hear  and  save  ! 

Throned  above  celestial  things. 
Borne  aloft  on  angels'  wings. 
Lord  of  lords,  and  King  of  kings, 

Jesus  I  hear  and  save  ! 

Who  shalt  yet  return  from  high, 
Robed  in  might  and  majesty. 
Hear  us  !  help  us  when  we  cry  ! 

Jesus  !  hear  and  save  ! 
Bishop  Rc'gifiald  Heber.   1 8 1 1 , 


11 


Thou  the  cup  of  death  didst  drain. 
Thou  within  the  tomb  wert  laid  ; 

Thou  art  Risen,  Thou  dost  reign, 
Sgraphim  Thy  subjects  made  ! 


462  TJie  Book  oj  Praise. 

Lord  !  when  we  recal  the  story 
Of  Thy  lowHness  and  glory, 
Keep  us,  lest  we  fall  from  Thee, 
Through  that  awful  mystery. 

Who  can  fathom  the  abyss 

Where  Thou  plunged'st  for  our  love  ? 
Who  conceive  the  glorious  bliss 

Waiting  on  Thy  steps  above  ? 
Cradled  in  the  lowliest  shed, 
Weeping,  toiling,  suffering,  dead  ! 
Mighty  Monarch,  throned  on  high, 
Ruling  all  in  earth  and  sky  ! 

Who  is  equal  to  these  things  ? 

Who  such  mysteries  can  brook  ? 
Faith,  with  eagle  eye  and  wings. 

Scarcely  there  may  soar  or  look. 
Thought  must  seek  that  height  in  vain, 
All  her  musings  turn  to  pain. 
Whelmed  beneath  the  mighty  load 
Of  that  word,  Incarnate  God  ! 

Blessed,  blessed  be  the  Lord  ! 

Who  on  simple  souls  and  poor 
Gently  has  the  knowledge  pour'd. 

Which  the  wise  can  scarce  endure. 
Saved  from  sinning,  happy,  healed 
By  those  mystic  truths  revealed, 
Changed  by  power  above  their  own, 
Christ  to  them  is  fully  known. 

Known  when  drawing  infant  breath, 
Known  in  labour  and  in  pain, 

Known  victorious  over  death, 
Known  in  His  triumphant  reign. 


Christ  Ascended.  463 

All  He  suficrcd,  all  He  won, 
God,  and  woman's  wondrous  Son  : 
All  alike  from  sin  restrain, 
All  to  them  is  wise  and  plain. 

Other  days  may  come  at  last, 

When  our  purer  eyes  shall  see, 
By  no  whelming  thoughts  o'ercast, 

Our  salvation's  mystery. 
Give  us  grace  meanwhile  to  rest. 
By  obedience  taught  and  blest. 
Sure,  that  truths  which  make  us  free, 
God  of  counsel,  flow  from  Thee  ! 

Joseph  Anstice.  1836. 


12 


One  there  is,  above  all  others. 
Well  deserves  the  name  of  Friend  : 

His  is  love  beyond  a  brother's, 
Costly,  free,  and  knows  no  end. 

They  who  once  His  kindness  prove 

Find  it  everlasting  love. 

Which  of  all  our  friends,  to  save  us. 
Could  or  would  have  shed  their  blood 

But  our  Jesus  died  to  have  us 
Reconciled  in  Him  to  God. 

This  was  boundless  love  indeed  ; 

Jesus  is  a  Friend  in  need. 

When  He  lived  on  earth  abased. 
Friend  of  sinners  was  His  name  ; 

Now  above  all  gloiy  raised, 
He  rejoices  in  the  same  : 


464  The  Book  of  Praise. 

Still  He  calls  them  brethren,  friends, 
And  to  all  their  wants  attends. 

Could  we  bear  from  one  another 
What  He  daily  bears  from  us  ? 

Yet  this  glorious  Friend  and  Brother 
Loves  us  though  we  treat  Him  thus  : 

Though  for  good  we  render  ill. 

He  accounts  us  brethren  still. 

Oh  !  for  grace  our  hearts  to  soften  ! 

Teach  us,  Lord,  at  length  to  love  ! 
We,  alas  !  forget  too  often 

What  a  Friend  \ye  have  above  : 
But,  when  home  our  souls  are  brought, 
We  will  love  Thee  as  we  ought. 

John  Newton.  1779. 


Chj'isfs  Kingdom  and  Judgment. 
13 

When  came  in  flesh  th'  Incarnate  Word, 

The  heedless  world  slept  on. 
And  only  simple  shepherds  heard 

That  God  had  sent  His  Son. 

When  comes  the  Saviour  at  the  last, 
From  west  to  east  shall  shine 

The  awful  pomp,  and  earth  aghast 
Shall  tremble  at  the  sign. 

Then  shall  the  pure  in  heart  be  blest ; 

As  mild  He  comes  to  them. 
As  when  upon  the  Virgin's  breast 

He  lay  at  Bethlehem  : 


Chrisfs  Kingdom  and  Judginoit.  ^.6; 

As  mild  to  mcek-eycd  love  and  faith  ; 

Only  more  strong  to  save  ; 
Strengthened,  by  having  bowed  to  death 

By  having  burst  the  grave. 

Lord  I  who  could  dare  see  Thee  descend 

In  state,  unless  he  knew 
Thou  art  the  sorrowing  sinner's  Friend, 

The  gracious,  and  the  true  ? 

Dwell  in  our  hearts,  O  Saviour  blest  ! 

So  shajl  Thine  Advent  dawn 
'Twixt  us  and  Thee,  our  bosom-Guest, 

Be  but  the  veil  withdrawn. 

Joseph  Ansticc.   1836. 

14 

Great  Qod,  what  do  I  see  and  hear  ! 

The  end  of  things  created  ! 
The  Judge  of  mankind  doth  appear 

On  clouds  of  glory  seated  ! 
The  trumpet  sounds  ;  the  graves  restore 
The  dead  which  they  contained  before  : 

Prepare,  my  soul,  to  meet  Him  ! 

The  dead  in  Christ  arc  first  to  rise 
And  greet  th'  Archangel's  warning, 

To  meet  the  Saviour  in  the  skies 
On  this  auspicious  morning  : 

No  gloomy  fears  their  souls  dismay 

His  Presence  sheds  eternal  day 
On  those  prepared  to  meet  Him. 

Far  over  space,  to  distant  spheres, 

The  lightnings  are  prevailing  : 
Th'  ungodly  rise,  and  all  their  tears 

And  sighs  are  unavailing  : 
H  H 


466  The  Book  of  Praise. 

The  day  of  grace  is  past  and  gone  ; 
They  shake  before  the  Judge's  throne, 
All  unprepared  to  meet  Him. 


Stay,  fancy,  stay,  and  close  thy  \vings. 

Repress  thy  flight  too  daring ! 
One  wondrous  sight  my  comfort  brings. 

The  Judge  my  nature  wearing. 
Beneath  His  cross  I  view  the  day 
When  Heaven  and  Earth  shall  pass  away, 
And  thus  prepare  to  meet  Him. 

William  Bengo  CoUyer.  181 2. 
{First  stanza  Anon,  from  Benjamin  Ringwald.) 


15 


That  day  of  wrath,  that  dreadful  day, 
When  heaven  and  earth  shall  pass  away. 
What  power  shall  be  the  sinner's  stay  ? 
How  shall  he  meet  that  dreadful  day  1 

When,  shrivelling  like  a  parched  scroll, 
The  flaming  heavens  together  roll ; 
When  louder  yet,  and  yet  more  dread, 
Swells  the  high  trump  that  wakes  the  dead  ; 

O  !  on  that  day,  that  wrathful  day. 
When  man  to  judgment  wakes  from  clay, 
Be  Thou  the  trembling  sinner's  stay, 
Though  heaven  and  earth  shall  pass  away  I 
Sir  Walter  Scott.  1805. 


The  Holy  Catholic  Church.  467 

16 

"  Urbs  Syon  aurca,  Patria  lact.'aP 

Jerusalem  the  golden. 

With  milk  and  honey  blest, 
Beneath  thy  contemplation 

Sink  heart  and  voice  opprest. 

I  know  not,  O  I  know  not, 

What  social  joys  arc  there  ; 
What  radiancy  of  glory. 

What  light  beyond  compare. 

They  stand,  those  halls  of  Sion, 

Conjubilant  with  song. 
And  bright  with  many  an  angel. 

And  all  the  martyr  throng. 

The  Prince  is  ever  in  them  ; 

The  daylight  is  serene  ; 
The  pastures  of  the  Blessed 

Are  decked  in  glorious  sheen. 

There  is  the  Throne  of  David  ; 

And  there,  from  care  releas'd. 
The  song  of  them  that  triumph, 

The  shout  of  them  that  feast. 

And  they,  who,  with  their  Leader, 

Have  conquer'd  in  the  fight, 
For  ever  and  for  ever 
Are  clad  in  robes  of  white. 

John  Mason  Ncale.   i86r. 
From  Bcr/iard  of  Morlai.v. 

H  II  3 


468  The  Book  of  Praise. 


17 


Songs  of  praise  the  angels  sang, 
Heaven  with  hallelujahs  rang, 
When  Jehovah's  work  begun, 
When  He  spake,  and  it  was  done. 

Songs  of  praise  awoke  the  morn. 
When  the  Prince  of  Peace  was  born  ;_ 
Songs  of  praise  arose,  when  He 
Captive  led  captivity. 

Heaven  and  earth  must  pass  away. 
Songs  of  praise  shall  crown  that  day  ; 
God  will  make  new  heavens,  new  earth, 
Songs  of  praise  shall  hail  their  birth. 

And  can  man  alone  be  dumb. 
Till  that  glorious  kingdom  come? 
No  :  the  Church  delights  to  raise 
Psalms,  and  hymns,  and  songs  of  praise. 

Saints  below,  with  heart  and  voice, 
Still  in  songs  of  praise  rejoice, 
Learning  here^  by  faith  and  love, 
Songs  of  praise  to  sing  above. 

Borne  upon  their  latest  breath, 
Songs  of  praise  shall  conquer  death  ; 
Then,  amidst  eternal  joy,  - 

Songs  of  praise  their  powers  employ. 

Ja77ies  Mojitgomery.   1825. 


Resiirrectioii  and  Eternal  Life.  469 

Resurrection  and  Eternal  Life. 

18 

"  Hie  breve  vivitur,  hie  breve  plangitnr'' 

Brief  life  is  here  our  portion, 

Brief  sorrow,  short-liv'd  care  ; 
The  hfe  that  knows  no  ending, 

The  tearless  life  is  there. 

O  happy  retribution  ! 

Short  toil,  eternal  rest ; 
Yor  mortals  and  for  sinners 

A  mansion  with  the  blest  ! 

That  we  should  look,  poor  wand'rers, 

To  have  our  home  on  high  ! 
That  worms  should  seek  for  dwellings 

Beyond  the  starry  sky  ! 

To  all  one  happy  guerdon 

Of  one  celestial  grace  : 
For  all,  for  all,  who  mourn  their  fall. 

Is  one  eternal  place. 

And  martyrdom  hath  roses 

Upon  that  heavenly  ground  : 
And  white  and  virgin  lilies 

For  virgin  souls  abound. 

There  grief  is  turned  to  pleasure  ; 

Such  pleasure,  as  below 
No  human  voice  can  utter, 

No  human  heart  can  know  : 


470  The  Book  of  Praise. 

And,  after  fleshly  scandal, 
And  after  this  world's  night, 

And  after  storm  and  whirlwind, 
Is  calm,  and  joy,  and  light. 

And  now  we  fight  the  battle  ; 

But  then  shall  wear  the  crown 
Of  full  and  everlasting 

And  passionless  renown. 

And  now  we  watch  and  struggle, 

And  now  we  live  in  hope, 
And  Sion,  in  her  anguish. 

With  Babylon  must  cope  : 

But  He,  Whom  now  we  trust  in, 
Shall  then  be  seen  and  known, 
And  they  who  know  and  see  Him 
Shall  have  Him  for  their  own. 

JoJui  Mason  Neale.   1861. 
From  Berfia7'd  of  Morlaix. 


'•  T/iy  Kingdom  Coined 

19 

Almighty  God  !  Thy  word  is  cast 
Like  seed  upon  the  ground  : 

Oh  !  may  it  grow  in  humble  hearts. 
And  righteous  fruits  abound. 

Let  not  the  foe  of  Christ  and  man 

This  holy  seed  remove  ; 
But  give  it  root  in  praying  souls 

To  bring  forth  fruits  of  love. 


''Thy  Will  be  Doner  471 

Let  not  the  world's  deceitful  cares 

The  rising  plant  destroy, 
But  may  it  in  converted  minds 

Produce  the  fruits  of  joy. 

Let  not  Thy  word  so  kindly  sent 

To  raise  us  to  Thy  Throne 
Return  to  Thee,  and  sadly  tell 

That  we  reject  Thy  Son. 

Great  God  I  come  down,  and  on  Thy  word 

Thy  mighty  power  bestow  ; 
That  all  who  hear  the  joyful  sound 

Thy  saving  grace  may  know. 

Johfi  Cawood.  1816. 


''Thy  Will  be  Doner 
20 

Lord,  as  to  Thy  dear  cross  we  flee, 

And  plead  to  be  forgiven, 
So  let  Thy  life  our  pattern  be. 

And  form  our  souls  for  Heaven, 

Help  us,  through  good  report  and  ill, 

Our  daily  cross  to  bear, 
Like  Thee,  to  do  our  Father's  will, 

Our  brethren's  griefs  to  share. 

Let  grace  our  selfishness  expel. 

Our  carthliness  refine. 
And  kindness  in  our  bosoms  dwell, 

As  free  and  true  as  Thine. 


472  The  Book  of  Praise. 

If  joy  shall  at  Thy  bidding  fly, 

And  grief's  dark  day  come  on, 
We,  in  our  turn,  would  meekly  cry, 

Father  !  Thy  will  be  done  I 

Should  friends  misjudge,  or  foes  defame, 

Or  brethren  faithless  prove. 
Then,  like  Thine  own,  be  all  our  aim 

To  conquer  them  by  love. 

Kept  peaceful  in  the  midst  of  strife, 

Forgiving  and  forgiven, 
O  may  we  lead  the  pilgrim's  life. 

And  follow  Thee  to  Heaven  ! 

John  Haj}ipdc?i  Gurncy,   1838. 

21 

Eternal  Beam  of  Light  Divine, 


Fountain  of  unexhausted  love, 


In  Whom  the  Father's  glories  shine 

Through  earth  beneath,  and  Heaven  above : 

Jesu  !  the  weary  wanderer's  Rest ! 

Give  me  Thy  easy  yoke  to  bear ; 
With  stedfast  patience  arm  my  breast. 

With  spotless  love,  and  lowly  fear. 

Thankful  I  take  the  cup  from  Thee, 
Prepar'd  and  mingled  by  Thy  skill  : 

Though  bitter  to  the  taste  it  be, 
Powerful  the  v.-ounded  soul  to  heal. 

Be  Thou,  O  Rock  of  Ages,  nigh  ! 

So  shall  each  murmuring  thought  be  gone  : 
And  grief,  and  fear,  and  care  shall  fly 

As  clouds  before  the  mid-day  sun.     . 


"  Give  us  this  day  our  Daily  BrcaiV^       473 

Speak  to  my  warring  passions  peace  ; 

Say  to  my  trembling  heart,  Be  still  : 
Thy  power  my  strength  and  fortress  is, 

For  all  things  serve  Thy  sovereign  will. 

O  Death,  where  is  thy  sting  ?  where  now 

Thy  boasted  victory,  O  Grave  ? 
Who  shall  contend  with  God,  or  who 

Can  hurt  whom  God  delights  to  save? 

Charles  Wesley.  1740. 


"  Give  us  this  day  our  Daily  Breadi'' 

22 

All  wondering  on  the  desert  ground 
The  hungry  thousands  gazed  around, 
While  Jesus  for  their  need  display'd 
The  power  that  once  the  worlds  had  made. 

Few  were  the  words  the  Saviour  spake  ; 
He  only  blest  the  bread  and  brake  ; 
The  scanty  loaves,  the  fishes  few, 
At  His  commandment  ceaseless  grew. 

No  meagre  store,  O  Lord,  have  we 

Of  grace  and  blessings  shower'd  from  Thee  ; 

Yet  in  our  barren  hearts  and  dry 

More  scanty  grows  the  rich  supply. 

On  desert  sands  we  seem  to  roam, 
Weary,  and  faint,  and  far  from  home, 
Though  pastures  green  around  us  grow, 
And  Thy  still  waters  near  us  flow. 


474  The  Book  of  Praise. 

Oh  !  with  a  living  growth  inspire, 
Not  Thy  blest  gifts^  but  our  desire, 
That  we  may  taste  Thy  mercy's  store, 
And  thirst  and  hunger  never  more  ! 

John  Eriiest  Bode.   1 860. 


''''  A7id  forgive  11s  our  Trespasses^ 
23 


O'erwhelm'd  with  guilt  and  fear, 
I  see  my  JVIaker  face  to  face, 
O  how  shall  I  appear  ! 

If  yet,  while  pardon  may  be  found. 

And  mercy  may  be  sought, 
My  heart  with  inward  horror  shrinks, 

And  trembles  at  the  thought. 

When  Thou,  O  Lord,  shalt  stand  disclos'd 

In  majesty  severe, 
And  sit  in  judgment  on  my  soul, 

O  how  shall  I  appear  ! 

But  Thou  hast  told  the  troubled  soul. 

Who  does  her  sins  lament. 
The  timely  tribute  of  her  tears 

Shall  endless  woe  prevent. 

Then  see  the  sorrows  of  my  heart, 

Ere  yet  it  be  too  late. 
And  add  my  Saviour's  dying  groans 

To  give  those  sorrows  vs'eight. 


Noonday.  475 

For  never  shall  my  soul  despair 

Her  pardon  to  procure, 
Who  knows  Thy  only  Son  has  died 

To  make  that  pardon  sure. 

Joseph  Addison.  17 19. 


Noonday. 

24 

Up  to  the  throne  of  God  is  borne 
The  voice  of  praise  at  early  morn, 
And  He  accepts  the  punctual  hymn. 
Sung  as  the  light  of  day  grows  dim. 

Nor  will  He  turn  His  ear  aside 
From  holy  offerings  at  noontide  : 
Then  here  reposing  let  us  raise 
A  song  of  gratitude  and  praise. 

What  though  our  burthen  be  not  light, 
We  need  not  toil  from  morn  to  night  ; 
The  respite  of  the  mid-day  hour 
Is  in  the  thankful  Creature's  power. 

Blest  are  the  moments,  doubly  blest. 
That,  drawn  from  this  one  hour  of  rest, 
Are  with  a  ready  heart  bestowed 
Upon  the  service  of  our  God. 

Each  field  is  then  a  hallowed  spot. 
An  altar  is  in  each  man's  cot, 
A  church  in  every  grove  that  spreads 
Its  living  roof  above  our  heads. 


476  The  Book  of  Praise, 

Look  up  to  Heaven  !  the  industrious  sun 
Already  half  his  race  hath  run  ; 
He  cannot  halt  nor  go  astray  ; 
But  our  immortal  Spirits  may. 

Lord  !  since  his  rising  in  the  east, 
If  we  have  faltered  or  transgressed, 
Guide,  from  Thy  love's  abundant  source, 
What  yet  remains  of  this  day's  course. 

Help  with  Thy  grace,  through  life's  short  day 
Our  upward,  and  our  downward,  way  ; 
And  glorify  for  us  the  west. 
When  we  shall  sink  to  final  rest  ! 

William  Wordsworth.  18^4.. 


Evening. 

25 

Father  !  by  Thy  love  and  power. 
Comes  again  the  evening  hour  : 
Light  has  vanished,  labours  cease, 
Weary  creatures  rest  in  peace. 
Thou,  whose  genial  dews  distil 

On  the  lowliest  weed  that  grows. 
Father  !  guard  our  couch  from  ill, 

Lull  Thy  children  to  repose  : 
We  to  Thee  ourselves  resign, 
Let  our  latest  thoughts  be  Thine  ! 

Saviour  !  to  Thy  Father  bear 
This  our  feeble  evening  prayer  ; 
Thou  hast  seen  how  oft  to-day 
We,  like  sheep,  have  gone  astray  : 
Worldly  thoughts,  and  thoughts  of  pride, 
Wishes  to  Thy  Cross  untrue. 


The  Old  and  New  Yea?'.  Ml 

Secret  faults  and  undescricd, 

Meet  Thy  spirit-piercing  view. 
Blessed  Saviour  !  yet,  through  Thee, 
Pray  that  these  may  pardoned  be. 

Holy  Spirit  \  Breath  of  balm  ! 
Fall  on  us  in  evening  s  calm  : 
Yet  awhile,  before  we  sleep, 
We  with  Thee  will  vigil  keep. 
Lead  us  on  our  sins  to  muse  ; 

Give  us  truest  penitence  ; 
Then  the  love  of  God  infuse, 

Breathing  humble  confidence  ; 
Melt  our  spirits,  mould  our  will, 
Soften,  strengthen,  comfort  still  I 

Blessed  Trinity  I  be  near 

Through  the  hours  of  darkness  drear  ; 

When  the  help  of  man  is  far, 

Ye  more  clearly  present  are. 

Father  !  Son  1  and  Holy  Ghost  ! 

Watch  o'er  our  defenceless  head. 
Let  Your  angels'  guardian  host 

Keep  all  evil  from  our  bed, 
Till  the  flood  of  morning  rays 
Wake  us  to  a  song  of  praise. 

Joseph  Anstiee.  1S36. 

The  Old  and  Xew  Year. 

26 

Now,  gracious  Lord,  Thine  arm  reveal, 

And  make  Thy  glory  known  ; 
Now  let  us  all  Thy  presence  feel. 

And  soften  hearts  of  stone  ! 


478  The  Book  of  Praise. 

Help  us  to  venture  near  Thy  Throne, 

And  plead  a  Saviour's  Name ; 
For  all  that  we  can  call  our  own 

Is  vanity  and  shame. 

From  all  the  guilt  of  former  sin 

May  mercy  set  us  free  : 
And  let  the  year  we  now  begin, 

Begin  and  end  with  Thee. 

Send  down  Thy  Spirit  from  above, 
That  saints  may  love  Thee  more, 

And  sinners  now  may  learn  to  love. 
Who  never  loved  before. 

And  when  before  Thee  we  appear 

In  our  eternal  home, 
May  growing  numbers  worship  here, 

And  praise  Thee  in  our  room ! 

John  Newton.  177(). 


Baptism  and  Childhood. 
27 

Saviour,  who  didst  from  Heaven  come  down, 

A  little  Child  awhile  to  be, 
Whose  precious  blood  and  thorny  crown 

From  death  and  sin  have  ransomed  me  : 

Teach  me,  dear  Saviour,  some  return 

Of  lowly  service  for  Thy  love, 
Such  as  a  thankful  child  may  learn. 

Such  as  Thy  Spirit  shall  approve. 


Holy  Covimunion.  479 

Young  hearts,  I  hear  them  say,  are  claimed 

For  God's  own  altar  by  Thy  word  : 
May  I  lay  there  my  own,  unblamed  ! 
And  wilt  Thou  lift  it  heavenward.  Lord  ? 

James  Bullivant  Tovtalin.  [i860,] 
From  Louis,  Count  Zinzcndorf. 


Holy  Communion, 

28 

Here,  O  my  Lord,  I  see  Thee  face  to  face  ; 

Here  would  I  touch  and  handle  things  unseen  ; 
Here  grasp  with  firmer  hand  the  eternal  grace, 

And  all  my  weariness  upon  Thee  lean. 

Here  would  I  feed  upon  the  Bread  of  God  ; 

Here  drink  w^ith  Thee  the  royal  Wine  of  Heaven 
Here  would  I  lay  aside  each  earthly  load. 

Here  taste  afresh  the  calm  of  sin  forgiven. 

This  is  the  hour  of  banquet  and  of  song, 
This  is  the  heavenly  Table  spread  for  me  ; 

Here  let  me  feast,  and,  feasting,  still  prolong 
The  brief  bright  hour  of  fellowship  with  Thee. 

Too  soon  we  rise  ;  the  symbols  disappear  ; 

The  Feast,  though  not  the  Love,  is  past  and  gone 
The  Bread  and  Wine  remove  ;  but  Thou  art  here. 

Nearer  than  ever  ;  still  my  Shield  and  Sun. 

I  have  no  help  but  Thine  ;  nor  do  I  need 
Another  arm  save  Thine  to  lean  upon  : 

It  is  enough,  my  Lord  ;  enough,  indeed; 

My  strength  is  in  Thy  might,  Thy  might  alone. 


480  The  Book  oj  Praise. 

I  have  no  wisdom,  save  in  Him  Who  is 

My  Wisdom  and  my  Teacher,  both  in  one  ; 

No  wisdom  can  I  lack  while  Thou  art  wise, 
No  teaching  do  I  crave,  save  Thine  alone. 

Mine  is  the  sin,  but  Thine  the  Righteousness  ; 

Mine  is  the  guilt,  but  Thine  the  cleansing  Blood  ; 
Here  is  my  robe,  my  refuge,  and  my  peace, 

Thy  blood.  Thy  Righteousness,  O  Lord  my  God ! 

I  know,  that  deadly  evils  compass  me. 

Dark  perils  threaten,  yet  I  would  not  fear, 

Nor  poorly  shrink,  nor  feebly  turn  to  flee  ; 

Thou,  O  my  Christ,  art  buckler,  sword,  and  spear. 

But  see,  the  Pillar-Cloud  is  rising  now, 

And  moving  onward  through  the  desert  night ; 

It  beckons,  and  I  follow  ;  for  I  know 
It  leads  me  to  the  heritage  of  Light. 

Feast  after  feast  thus  comes,  and  passes  by  ;• 
Yet,'passing,  points  to  the  glad  Feast  above, 

Giving  sweet  foretaste  of  the  fe.stal  joy. 

The  Lamb's  great  Bridal  Feast  of  bliss  and  love. 
Horatiics  Bonar.  1856. 

29 

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. 

Hail,  sacred  Feast,  which  Jesus  makes  ! 

Rich  banquet  of  His  Flesh  and  Blood  ! 
Thrice  happy  he,  who  here  partakes 

That  sacred  stream,  that  heavenly  Food ! 


Holy  Cont?nH?iion.  481 

Why  are  its  dainties  all  in  vain 
Before  unwilling  hearts  display'd  ? 

Was  not  for  you  the  victim  slain  ? 
Are  you  forbid  the  children's  Bread  ? 

O  let  Thy  Table  honour'd  be, 
And  furnished  well  with  joyful  guests  ; 

And  may  each  soul  salvation  see, 
That  here  its  sacred  pledges  tastes. 

Let  crowds  approach,  with  hearts  prcpar'd  ; 

With  hearts  inflamed  let  all  attend  ; 
Nor,  when  we  leave  our  Father's  board, 

The  pleasure  or  the  profit  end. 

Revive  Thy  dying  churches,  Lord  ! 

And  bid  our  drooping  graces  live  ; 
And  more,  that  energy  afford, 

A  Saviour's  love  alone  can  give, 

P/i  Hip  Doddridge.   1755. 

30 

Thou,  who  hast  call'd  us  by  Thy  Word 

The  marriage  feast  to  share 
Of  Thy  dear  Son,  our  only  Lord, 

Thy  bidden  guests  prepare  ! 

No  vain  excuse  we  dare  to  make, 

Thy  call  we  do  not  slight ; 
We  come  unworthy  ;  for  His  sak 

Help  us  to  come  aright ! 

The  marriage-garment  we  require 

Thyself  to  us  impart. 
And  with  Thy  precious  gifts  inspire 

A  pure  and  thankful  heart. 
I  I 


482  The  Book  of  Praise. 

And  Thou,  to  whom  the  Father's  love 
The  wedding  guests  has  brought, 

Who  ever  helpest  from  above 

Those  whom  Thy  blood  has  bought, 

Lord  of  the  feast !  our  coming  bless, 

And  round  our  souls  entwine 
The  garment  of  Thy  Righteousness, 

In  which  Thy  saints  shall  shine. 

John  Ernest  Bode.  1 860. 


31 

For  mercies,  countless  as  the  sands. 

Which  daily  I  receive 
From  Jesus  my  Redeemer's  hands, 

My  soul,  what  canst  thou  give  ? 

Alas  !  from  such  an  heart  as  mine, 
What  can  I  bring  Him  forth  ? 

My  best  is  stain'd  and  dyed  with  sin, 
My  all  is  nothing  worth. 

Yet  this  acknowledgment  I'll  make 

For  all  He  has  bestow'd  ; 
Salvation's  sacred  cup  I'll  take, 

And  call  upon  my  God. 

The  best  return  for  one  like  me, 

So  wretched  and  so  poor, 
Is  from  His  gifts  to  draw  a  plea, 

And  ask  Him  still  for  more. 

Willi  am  Cow  per.   1779. 


Church  Dedicatio/i.  483 


Church  Dedication. 
32 

O  Lord,  our  languid  souls  inspire, 
For  here,  we  trust,  Thou  art ! 

Send  down  a  coal  of  heavenly  fire. 
To  warm  each  waiting  heart. 

Dear  Shepherd  of  Thy  people,  hear. 
Thy  Presence  now  display  ; 

As  Thou  hast  given  a  place  for  prayer, 
So  give  us  hearts  to  pray. 

Shew  us  some  token  of  Thy  love, 

Our  fainting  hope  to  raise  ; 
And  pour  Thy  blessings  from  above. 

That  we  may  render  praise. 

Within  these  walls  let  holy  peace. 
And  love,  and  concord,  dwell  ; 

Here  give  the  troubled  conscience  ease, 
The  wounded  spirit  heal. 

The  feeling  heart,  the  melting  eye, 
The  humbled  mind  bestow  ; 

And  shine  upon  us  from  on  high, 
To  make  our  graces  grow. 

May  we  in  faith  receive  Thy  word, 
In  faith  present  our  prayers. 

And  in  the  presence  of  our  Lord 
Unbosom  all  our  cares. 
I  I  2 


484  The  Book  of  Praise. 

And  may  the  Gospel's  joyful  sound, 

E.nforced  by  mighty  grace, 
Awaken  many  sinners  round, 

To  come  and  fill  the  place. 

John  Newton.   1779. 


Ordination  of  Ministers. 

33 

Pour  out  Thy  Spirit  from  on  high  ; 

Lord,  Thine  assembled  servants  bless  ; 
Graces  and  gifts  to  each  supply, 

And  clothe  Thy  priests  with  righteousness. 

Within  Thy  temple  when  we  stand 
To  teach  the  truth,  as  taught  by  Thee, 

Saviour,  like  stars  in  Thy  right  hand 
The  angels  of  the  Churches  be  ! 

Wisdom,  and  zeal,  and  faith  impart, 
Firmness,  with  meekness  from  above, 

To  bear  Thy  people  on  our  heart, 

And  love  the  souls  whom  Thou  dost  love  : 

To  watch,  and  pray,  and  never  faint, 
By  day  and  night  strict  guard  to  keep. 

To  warn  the  sinner,  cheer  the  saint, 

Nourish  Thy  lambs,  and  feed  Thy  sheep  : 

Then,  when  our  work  is  hnish'd  here, 
In  humble  hope  our  charge  resign  ! 

When  the  chief  Shepherd  shall  appear, 
O  God  !  may  they  and  we  be  Thine  ! 

Jatnes  Montgo7nery.   i8: 


The  Calh  485 


34 

Fearless,  calm,  and  strong  in  love, 
Would'st  thou  ply  the  Gospel  net  ? 
Then  remember  God  above, 
And  thyself  forget. 

Like  the  fisher,  patient  be  ; 
Try  at  morn,  and  try  at  even, 
PI  ope,  where  thou  canst  nothing  see  ; 
And  still  trust  in  Heaven. 

Never  shall  the  net  be  cast 
All  in  vain,  though  cast  amiss  : 
Wait  the  great  Day  and  the  last. 
Ere  thou  judge  of  this. 

O  what  issues  that  may  show 
Even  of  thy  poor  toil  and  care  ! 
But,  till  then,  enough  to  know 
Thou  dost  neither  spare. 

Spend,  then,  and  be  spent,  in  love  ; 
Take  the  task  before  thee  set ; 
Souls  to  win  for  Heaven  above, 
And  thyself  forget. 

Thomas  Davis.  186: 

The  Call. 
35 

Awake,  my  soul  I  lift  up  thine  eyes, 
See  where  thy  foes  against  thee  rise, 
In  long  array,  a  numerous  host  ; 
Awake,  my  soul !  or  thou  art  lost. 


486  The  Book  of  Praise. 

Here  giant  Danger  threatening  stands, 
Mustering  his  pale  terrific  bands  ; 
There  pleasure's  silken  banners  spread, 
And  willing  souls  are  captive  led. 

See  where  rebellious  passions  rage, 
And  fierce  desires  and  lusts  engage  ; 
The  meanest  foe  of  all  the  train 
Has  thousands  and  ten  thousands  slain. 

Thou  tread'st  upon  enchanted  ground, 
Perils  and  snares  beset  thee  round  ; 
Beware  of  all,  guard  every  part. 
But  most,  the  traitor  in  thy  heart. 

Come  then,  my  soul,  now  learn  to  wield 
The  weight  of  thine  immortal  shield  ; 
Put  on  the  armour  from  above 
Of  heavenly  truth  and  heavenly  love. 

The  terror  and  the  charm  repel. 
And  powers  of  earth,  and  powers  of  hell ; 
The  Man  of  Calvary  triumphed  here  : 
Why  should  His  faithful  followers  fear? 

Anna  Lcetitia  Barbaidd.  I'J'JI- 


NOTES. 


IT.— Part  of  Hymn  No.  100  in  Mant's  Ancient  Hymns,  &o.    Tbrcc 

stanzas  out  of  eiglit  are  omitted. 
IV.— The  text  of  this  hvmn  is  from  The  Devout  Chorister  (Masters  ; 
Third  Edition,  1854) ;  in  whicli  book  it  was  first  published ; 
and  the  author's  name  is  given,  by  his  kind  permission, 
v.— The  text  of  this  is  from  the  Fifth  Edition  (Newcastle,  no  date, 
but  water-mark  1810) ;  of  the  ilev.  Thomas  CotterUl's  Psalms 
mid  Hymns. 
vii.— From  Hymns  Jor  the  Church  of  England  (Longman,  1857). 
The  first  and  third  stanzas  are  adapted,  by  Mr.  Darling,  from 
Nos.  49  and  30  of  John  Quarles'  Divine  Ejaculations. 
vi II. —From  John  and  Charles  Wesley's  Collection  of  Psalms  anil 
Hymns  (the  first  edition  published  in  1741).     The  Tsalm,  as 
rendered  by  Watts,  is  in  six  stanzas,  of  which  tlie  Wesleys 
omitted  the  first  and  fourth,  and  varied  the  second  by  substi- 
tuting the  well-known  lines, 

"Before  Jehovah's  awful  throne, 
Ye  nations,  bow  with  sacred  joy ; " 
for  Watts'  original, 

'•Nations,  attend  before  his  throne 
"With  solemn  fear,  with  sacred  joy." 
The  only  other  change  is  the  word  ' '  shall "  instead  of  ' '  must," 
in  the  tliird  line  of  the  last  stanza. 
XII.  —Three  stanzas  out  of  six.   The  first,  second,  and  fifth  of  Watts' 

are  omitted. 
XV.— Nine  stanzas  out  of  twelve  (the  first,  third,  and  eleventh  of 
Watts'  being  omitted).  The  word  "  God"  is  brought  down  into 
the  first  line,  from  the  first  (omitted)  stanza,  instead  of  "Him." 
XVI.— The  four  first  strinzas  of  H\Tun  No.  11,  Book  II.  in  Gibbons' 
Hymns  udaj^tcd  to  Divine  Worshij^  (London,  1784)  ;  sometimes 
wrongly  ascribed  to  Berridge.     Gibbons  has  seven  stanzas, 
xxiii.— Four  out  of  five  stanzas,  Lyte's  fourth  being  omitted. 
XXVIII.— The  first  thirteen  out  of  forty-two  stanzas.    The  poem  is 
the  last  of  several  in  Skelton's  Appeal  to  Common  Sense  on  the 
Subject  of  Christianity.    (Dublin,  1784.) 
xxxii  —Stanzas  1,  6,  0,  and  10,  of  a  poem  in  ten  stanzas  (No.  GS 
of  T.  Grinfield's  Century  of  Sacred  Songs).     I  have  adhered  to 
the  selection  made  by  the  late  Rev.  John  Hampden  Gurney 
in  the  Marylebone  Hymn-Book  of  1851. 

xxxin.— My  only  authoritv  for  ascribing  this  to  Tate  is  the  late 
Rev.  iEdward  Bickersteth;  but  the  author.sliip  seems  piobable, 
as  this  is  one  of  the  hymns  included  in  the  "Supplement  to  the 
New  Version,"  for  the  use  of  whii^i  Brady  and  Tate  obtained 
from  Queen  Anne  an  Order  in  Council,  dated  tlic  30tli  July, 
1703. 


488  Notes. 

HTMN 

XXXIV.— The  text  is  that  of  the  foiu'th  edition  (1743)  of  Hymns  and 
Sacred  Poems,  by  Jolui  and  Charles  Wesley ;  differing  in  one 
word  only  ("Heavenly,"  instead  of  "Inner,"  in  the  second 
line  of  the  last  stanza)  from  the  first  edition,  published  iu 
1739.  The  common  variation,  beginning,  "Hark,  the  herald 
angels  sing,"  is  i)robably  by  Martin  Madan  (1760),  who,  be- 
sides altering  several  lines,  has  left  out  part  (but  not  the 
whole)  of  the  two  last  stanzas,  which  are  usually  omitted  at 
the  end  of  modem  editions  of  the  New  Version  of  the  Psalms. 
The  word  "  welldn,"  in  the  first  line,  is  open  to  criticism,  but 
in  other  respects  I  prefer  Wesley's  original  to  Madan's  varia- 
tion. 

xxxviii. — From  Christian  Lyrics  (Norwich :  J.  Fletcher ;  1860). 
Mr.  Sears  is  an  American  writer,  and  I  have  not  been  able 
to  obtain  access  to  his  original  text. 
XL.— From  the  volume,  published  in  1829  (London  :  Cadell  &  Co.), 
under  the  title  S2nrit  of  the  Psalms,  which  is  not  to  be  con- 
founded with  the  work  of  the  Rev.  H.  F.  Lyte,  afterwards 
published  under  the  same  title,  in  1834. 

XLT. — Tliis  hymn  is  from  Hymns  Ancient  and  Modern,  for  Use  in 
the  Services  of  the  Chtirch  (London:  Novello ;  1861).  I 
am  indebted  to  the  Rev.  Sir  Hem-j'  Baker,  Bart,  (one  of  the 
editors  of  that  collection),  for  the  permission,  which  he  has 
kindly  obtained  for  me  from  the  author,  to  publish  his  name, 
as  well  as  for  the  authentication  of  the  text.  I  am  also  in- 
debted to  him  and  his  co-editors  for  their  consent  to  the 
use  which  I  have  made  of  this  hymn,  and  of  tlu-ee  others, 
contributed  by  Sir  Henry  Baker  himself  to  the  same  collec- 
tion, to  which  he  has  allowed  me  to  affix  his  name. 

XLii. — Five  out  of  seven  stanzas.  Those  omitted  are  Doddridge's 
second  and  si.xth. 

XLVi. — Five  stanzas  out  of  a  hymn  which,  as  first  published  in 
1740  (then  beginning  "Glorj^  to  God,  and  praise,  and  love"), 
consisted  of  eighteen  stanzas  ;  and  which,  in  the  seventeenth 
edition  of  Hymns  and  Spiritmd  Sonr/s  (Pine,  Bristol;  1773), 
was  reduced  to  eleven  stanzas;  then  beginning  as  in  the 
present  text.  In  the  Hymn-Book  for  Methodists,  it  consists 
of  ten  stanzas ;  one  of  which  is  taken  from  the  earlier 
edition,  and  is  not  in  that  of  1773. 

XLViii. — Four  out  of  five  stanzas.  Tliat  omitted  is  the  fourth 
of  Watts. 

Lii. — Five  out  of  eight  stanzas.     Tliose  omitted  are  the  fourth, 

fifth,  and  seventh  of  Watts. 
LV.— Six  out  of  seven  stanzas.     That  omitted  is  the  third  of 
Newton. 

Lvii. — This  hymn,  as  here  given,  was  introduced  into  the  Marjdebone 
Collection  (18-51)  from  a  poem  of  some  length,  published  in 
1831,  in  The  Iris,  a  volume  edited  by  the  Rev.  Thomas  Dale. 
Tlie  text  (which  will  be  found  at  page  139  of  that  volume) 
is  unaltered,  except  that  the  first  word  "Saviour,"  has  been 
brought  down  from  a  preceding  line,  in  substitution  for  the 
words  "And  then,"  so  as  to  give  to  these  stanzas  an  indepen- 
dent beginning. 


JSfotes.  489 


HYMN 

LYiii. — Nine  out  of  eleven  stanzas.  Those  omitted  are  the  fifth 
and  seventh  of  Mrs.  Barbauld. 
LX. — I  have  not  succeeded  in  tracing  the  author,  or  the  original 
text  of  this  hymn.  The  earliest  edition  of  the  A>«;  Version 
of  the  Psalms,  to  which  Mr.  Sedgwick  has  been  able  to  find  it 
appended,  was  jiublished  in  1796.  The  earliest  publication, 
in  which  he  has  met  with  the  three  first  stanzas  is  The 
Comjjlcat  Psalmodist,  by  John  Arnold  ;  of  which  the  .second 
edition  was  published  in  1750.  The  "Gloria,"  which  consti- 
tutes the  fourth  stanza,  goes  with  the  hymn  in  some  modern 
books,  and  suits  it  so  well,  that  I  have  ventured  to  retain 
it.  This  "Gloria"  is  certainly  by  Charles  Wesley;  it  will 
be  found  at  page  242  of  the  fourth  edition  (1743)  of  the 
Hymns  and  Sacred  Poems,  by  the  two  brothers. 

LXi.— This  hymn  (No.  2,  in  the  Rev.  John  Chandler's  Hymns  of  the 
Primitive  Church)  is,  as  stated  by  himself  in  his  Preface  to 
that  work,  a  variation  from  a  translatiun  of  the  same  Latin 
original,  by  the  Rev.  Isaac  Williams  ;  which  had  previously 
appeared  in  the  P.ritish  Mayazine,  and  which  is  No.  2  in  Mr. 
Williams'  Hymns  Translated  from  the  Parisian  Breviary 
(Rivingtons;  1830). 

LXii. — A  selection,  adopted  by  me  out  of  the  Marylebone  Hymn 
Book  of  1851  (where  it  is  erroneously  ascribed  to  A.  Gray), 
from  a  hjnun  in  nine  stanzas  of  eight  lines  each,  by  the  late 
Mr.  George  Mogridge,  i)opularlj' known  as  "  Old  Humphrey." 
There  is  no  alteratiijn  in  the  words  ;  but  the  two  tetrastichs 
composing  the  first  stanza  are  transposed.  The  entire  hymn 
will  be  found  in  My  Poetry  Book,  published  by  the  Religious 
Tract  Society,  at  p.  128. 

LXiv. — Dr.  Neale's  hymn  is  divided  into  thirteen  unequal  parts, 
the  first  seven  of  which  constitute  the  present  text. 

Lxvi. — I  have  taken  this  hjnnn  from  Mr.  Martineau's  Hymns  for 
the  Christian  Church  and  Home  (Longman  ;  twelfth  edition ; 
1856),  in  which  it  is  No.  234.  The  A^ithoress  (whose  genuine 
text  I  have  not  l)een  able  to  verifj'),  is,  as  I  have  reason  to 
believe,  an  American  lady. 

Lxviii. — The  date  assigned  to  this  hjnnn,  and  to  No.  cccxcviii.  are 
those  of  their  ])ublication.  by  the  autlmr  himself,  in  the 
Christioji  Observer.  The  other  hymns  of  Sir  Robert  Grant, 
in  this  collectitm,  bear  the  date  of  the  iio.sthumous  republi- 
cation of  his  collectctl  hynnis,  by  his  lirothcr,  Lord  Glenelg. 

LXix. — Four  out  of  nine  stanzas,  of  unequal  length,  from  Bishop 
IVIant's  Hdlydays  of  the  Church;  or.  Scriptural  Xarratii'es  and 
Biograph  iced  Notices,  vol.  ii.  p.  536  (Oxford:  Parker;  1831). 

Lxx.— The  Offices  of  John  An.stin.  containing  hymns  of  striking 
excellence,  were  adapted  to  the  use  of  members  of  the 
Church  of  England,  first  by  Theoi>liilus  Dorrington,  and 
afterwards  by  the  Nonjuring  Bishop  Hi«'kcs.  Donington, 
in  some  cases,  altered  Austin's  hymns  ;  Ilickes  almost  always 
reprinted  them  without  alteration.  This  hymn  is  No.  31  in 
Austin's  Offices,  where  it  consists  of  seven  st^uizas ;  the  first 
of  which  was  omitted,  and  some  of  the  others  slightly  altered, 
by  Charles  Wesley.    Iho  present  text  is  taken  Horn  the  first 


490  Notes. 


edition  (1739)  of  the  Wesleys'  Hymns  and  Sacred  Poems, 
page  130,  where  it  is  entitled  Hymn  to  Christ;  altered  frovi 
Dr.  HicJccs'  '' Reformed  Devotions." 

Lxxi.— The  text  of  this  hjinn  is  given  from  Toplady's  Collection, 
published  in  1776.  '  Whether  it  is  Mr.  Bakewell's  genuine 
work,  or  was  altered  by  Toplady,  is  not  certain.  Tlie  hj-nm, 
as  first  published  by  JIadan,  in  1760,  wants  the  last  stanza, 
(which  is  by  some  ascribed  to  James  Allen  ;)  and  differs 
from  the  present  text  in  some  other  respects.  Both  Madan 
and  Toplady  were  friends  of  the  author  :  and  the  probability 
seems  to  be,  that  it  was  revised  and  altered  by  the  author 
himself,  for  Toplady's  Collection. 

T.XXIII. — Twenty-three  out  of  twenty-eight  stanzas,  communicated 
by  -Mr.  Turner,  one  of  the  authors,  to  Dr.  Rippon  in  1791 
(See  Rippon's  Baptist  Annnal  Register,  vol.  iii.  p.  471).  The 
first  four  stanzas  of  the  text  are  by  Fanch,  who  also  v^'rote 
the  three  which  follow  them  In  the  original,  but  .which  are 
here  omitted,  because  they  are  repeated  in  substance  towards 
the  end  of  the  part  contributed  by  Turner.  The  stanzas, 
from  "Blest  angels,"  to  the  end,  are  by  Turner,  and  were 
published  by  him  separately,  with  variations  (not  improve- 
ments), in  a  little  volume,  printed  in  1794.  Abridgments 
of  this  hymn,  more  or  less  varied  (usually  beginning  "  Beyond 
the  glittering  starry  skies"),  occur  in  several  modern  hyinn- 
books ;  one  of  the  first  of  them  appeared  in  Dr.  Rippon's 
own  Collection. 

Lxxiv. — The  three  last  out  of  five  stan2as  (Hymn  lviii.  in  Book  I.  of 
Watts'  Hymns  and  Spiritnal  So^ififs,  beginning  "Let  mortal 
tongues  attempt  to  sing"). 

Lxxix. — This  hjTnn,  (composed  in  1S33,)  was  originally  published 
in  Metrical  Psalms  and  Hymns  for  singiyig  in  Churches 
(T>'orcester,  1849). 

i.xxx.— Seven  stanzas  out  of  eight.  That  omitted  is  Montgomerj-'s 
third. 

Lxxxi.— This  is  one  of  a  small  number  of  compositions  by  Michael 
Bruce  (a  Scottish  schoolmaster,  who  died  very  young),  Avhich 
have  been  the  subject  of  much  controversy  in  Scotland,  and, 
indeed,  of  a  kind  of  litarary  romance.  They  a^tpear  to  have 
been  intrusted  in  manuscript  by  Michael  Bruce,  or  by  his 
father,  to  John  Logan,  who,  some  time  after  Bruce's  death, 
published  them  with  variations,  in  his  own  name.  Tlie 
eighteenth  "Paraphrase"  is  a  variation  of  this  hymn;  no 
doubt  contributed  by  Logan.  The  present  is  Bruce's  original 
te.xt,  as  given  in  Mr.  Mackelvie's  collection  of  his  poems 
(Edinburgh  :  Paterson  ;  1837). 

Lxxxii.— Six  out  of  eight  stanzas.  The  second  and  third  of  Watts' 
are  omitted. 

Lxxxiii.— Four  out  of  six  stanzas.  The  second  and  third  of  Watts' 
are  omitted. 

Lxxxiv. — The  dates  assigned  to  this  hymn,  and  to  Nos.  cxli.  and 
CLXxvii.  and  the  two  "Additional  HjTuns,"  Nos.  2  and  9, 
are  those  of  their  original  publication  in    the    Christian 


Notes.  491 

HYMN 

Observer.  The  rest  of  Bisliop  Hebcr's  Hj-mns  (as  well  as 
Dean  Milman's),  in  tliis  volume,  bear  the  date  of  the  publi- 
cation of  the  Bishop's  Hymn-book,  in  1827. 

Lxxxvi.— The  text  of  this  hjTnn,  and  of  No.  cm.  as  now  corrected 
is  from  the  first  edition  of  Psalms  and  Hymns  (Ipswich, 
1813),  bj'  the  author,  the  Rev.  William  Hum,  formerly  Vicar 
of  Debenham. 

Lxxxvni.— The  text  is  from  Conder's  Hymn  (London  :  Snow ;  1850) ; 
where  this  is  a  complete  hymn.  As  first  published  by  the 
author,  in  The  Choir  and  the  Oratory  (Jackson  and  Walford, 
1S37),  these  were  the  last  four  of  thirteen  stanzas,  on  "Thy 
Kingdom  Come." 

xc. — This  popular  hjnnn  is  a  cento,  composed  by  Martin  Madan, 
with  some  variations,  out  of  two  hymns  by  Charles  Wesley 
(Xos.  38  and  39  of  Hymns  of  Intercession  for  all  Mankind), 
and  one  by  John  Cennick  (No.  128  in  his  Collection  of  Sacred 
Hymns;  Fifth  Edition,  Dublin  ;  1762).  The  choice  and  arrange- 
ment of  the  stanzas,  ns  made  by  Madan,  is  here  ]ire.ser\-ed, 
as  are  his  variations  of  the  third  and  fourth  stanzas  (Cennick' .s), 
of  which  the  last  lines  do  not  rhyme  iu  the  original.  The  first 
two  stanzas  and  the  last  are  from  Wesley's  No.  39,  a  hymn 
of  four  stanzas.  Madan  made  some  alterations  in  che  "first 
and  the  last,  which  (with  the  exception  of  "0  come  quickly," 
taken  by  him  from  Cennick,  instead  of  Wesley's  "Jah, 
Jehovah!")  1  have  not  retained.  The  second,  and  the  fifth 
(which  is  the  concluding  stanza  of  Wesley's  No.  38),  he  did 
not  alter. 

xcr. — The  preceding  hymn  is  generally,  by  a  popular  eiTor,  at- 
tributed to  Olivers,  the  only  foundation  for  tliat  error  being, 
that  he  ado])ted  its  first  line  as  the  beginning  of  one  of  his 
stanzas,  which  (though  the  first  of  those  selected  here)  is 
not  the  first  in  either  edition  of  his  Judgrnent  Hymn.  His 
hymn  was  greatly  altered  and  enlarged  iu  its  .scrond  edition, 
from  which  the  present  text  is  taken  ;  being  a  selection  of 
eleven  out  of  thirty-six  stanzas. 

xciv.— This  tran.slation  of  Veni  Creator  (by  an  unknown  hand)  was 
first  introduced  into  the  Office  for  the  Ordination  of  Priests 
npon  the  revision  of  the  Liturgy  of  the  Church  of  England, 
in  1662. 

xcviii. — Seven  out  of  nine  stanzas.  Hart's  seventh  and  eighth  are 
omitted. 
c.—Jacobi's  translation  will  be  found  at  page  43  of  Ilaberkorn's 
Psalmodia  Germanica  (London,  1765).  It  consists  of  ten 
stanzas,  of  which  Toplady  adojited  and  altered  .six.  Top- 
lady's  third  stanza  is  here  omitted. 
CI.— Five  out  of  six  stanzas  ;  from  ;Mant's  Holydays  of  the  Church 
(vol.  ii.  page  317).     The  Bishop's  first  stanza  is  omitted. 

CIV. — The  last  seven  out  of  eleven  stanzas  (No.  24  of  John 
Mason's  Songs  of  Praise). 

ovi.— Four  out  of  eight  stanzas  :  (the  fourth,  fifth,  sixth,  and 
seventh  of  Watts'  are  omitted). 


492  Notes. 


HT3IN 

cviii. — Fourteen  out  of  twenty-six  stanzas.  This  is  the  most  ancient 
of  all  the  compositions  included  in  this  volume,  and  it  is  the 
true  English  source  of  all  the  "New  Jerusalem  HjTnns"  of 
the  seventeenth  and  eighteenth  centuries.  It  is  printed  at 
length  in  Dr.  Bonar's  interesting  Preface  to  his  edition, 
published  in  1852  (Edinbiu-gh  :  Johnstone  and  Hi;nter),  of 
David  Dickson's  Is^w  Jerusalem,  which  is  itself  a  mere  va- 
riation of  this  hymn,  with  thirty-six  more  stanzas  added  to 
it.  The  original  hjnnn  is  contained  in  a  MS.  quarto  volume, 
numbered  15,22.5,  in  the  British  Museum,  the  date  of  which 
seems  (from  the  internal  evidence,  as  stated  by  Dr.  Bonar), 
to  be  about  1 616.  The  hymn  itself  (which  is  entitled,  A  Song 
hy  F.B.P.  to  the  tune  of  Diana)  is,  probably,  of  Queen 
Elizabeth's  time. 

cix.— The  text  of  this  hymn  (printed  in  the  first  edition  of  the 
present  volume,  from  the  Ninth  Edition  of  Grossman),  has 
been  now  con-ected,  and  restored  as  it  originally  appeared  in 
the  first  Edition  of  the  Young  Man's  Calling,  or  the  tohole 
Duty  of  Youth,  dx.  with  Divine  Poems :  except  that  the  third 
stanza,  which  was  omitted  by  Grossman  in  his  second  and  all 
subsequent  editions,  is  also  omitted  here. 

ex. — I  have  been  unable  to  trace  this  hymn  higher  than  to  the 
Collection  of  Dr.  Williams  and  Mr.  Boden,  first  published  in 
1801,  in  which  it  is  stated  to  be  from  "EcJcinton  Collection;" 
and  I  have  not  discovered  the  author,  or  the  original  text. 
In  the  collections  which  give  it  most  fully,  there  are  seven 
stanzas ;  of  v.iiich  one,  the  third  (a  stanza  of  inferior  merit, 
and  borrowed  directly  from  an  older  hymn),  is  here  omitted. 

cxiii. — Fiveoutof  six  stanzas;  from  HymncxLiii.of  Berridge'sSio7!,'s 
Songs.  The  stanza  omitted  is  BeiTidge's  fourth.  The  last 
couplet  of  the  second  stanza  is  taken  by  Berridge,  with  very 
little  alteration,  from  Ralph  Erskine's  Gospel  Sonnets(FRrt  V. 
section  6) ;  and  the  whole  hymn  follows  so  closely  in  Erskine's 
track,  that  it  might  properly  be  described  as  a  variation  froiu 
him. 

CXI7. — The  text  is  that  of  the  66th  Scotch  Paraphrase,  in  which 
Cameron,  taking  the  general  plan,  and  mu(-h  of  the  detail  and 
expression  of  Watts'  hymn  (No.  41  of  Watts'  Book  I.),  has 
recast  the  whole  composition,  with  excellent  effect. 

cxvi. — Four  out  of  five  stanzas.    That  omitted  is  Newton's  fourth. 

cxxTi. — The  first  ten  lines  of  this  hjnnn  were  left  a  fragment  by 
Kirke  Wliite,  written  on  the  back  of  one  of  his  mathematical 
liapers.  They  came  after  his  death  into  the  hands  of  Dr. 
Gollyer,  who  published  them,  with  six  (not  very  successful) 
lines  of  his  own  added,  in  his  Hymn-Book  of  1812,  where 
the  hjTun  is  numbered  867.  The  task  of  finishing  it  was  more 
happily  accomplished  by  Miss  Maitland,  in  the  form  in  which 
it  is  here  given,  and  which  first  appeared  in  a  volume  jjub- 
lished  by  Hatchard  in  1827,  under  the  title  of  Hymns  for 
Private  Devotion,  selected  and  original. 

cxxiii. — Five  out  of  ten  stanzas. 

cxxv. — Six  out  of  seven  stanzas.    That  omitted  is  Newton's  third. 


Notes.  493 


HTMK 

cxxvi. — Eight  out  of  twelve  stanzas.  Those  omitted  are  the  third, 
ninth,  tenth,  and  eleventh  of  Cennick. 

cxxvii. — Hammond's  hjTim  (which  will  be  found  at  page  S5  of  his 
Psalms,  Hymns,  ojid  Spiritual  Songs;  London,  174.0)  is  in 
fourteen  stanzas.  Of  these,  the  first,  second,  and  thirteenth, 
are  the  same,  except  some  verj' slight  verlml  clianges,  with  the 
three  first  stanzas  of  Madau's  variation.  The  last  two  stanzas 
of  the  variation  are  an  expansion  by  Madan  of  Hammond's 
concluding  stanza. 

cxxviir. — Chandler  concludes  this  hymn  with  a  "Gloria,"  which  is 
omitted  here. 

cxxxiii.— Three  out  of  seven  stanzas. 

cxLii. — Six  out  of  eight  stanzas. 

cxLviii. — This  and  No.  clxiii.  are  taken,  by  permission  of  the 
authoress,  from  The  Legend  of  the  Gohhn  Prayers,  and  other 
Poems  (London  :  Bell  and  Daldy ;  1S59  ;  pages  139—142). 
Both  hynms  had  been  previously  published  at  or  before  the 
dates  marked  in  the  text. 

CLV. — This  is  a  variation  from  the  first  four  and  the  last  two  stanzas 
of  James  Montgomery's  Verses  to  the  Memory  of  the  late  Joseph 
Brmvne,  of  Lethersdale,  a  poem  in  fourteen  stanzas  (of  four 
lines  each),  which  was  written  about  1S03,  and  published  in 
The  Wanderer  of  Switzerland,  and  other  Poems,  ill  ISOG.  The 
hjTun,  in  its  present  form,  seems  to  have  first  appeared  in 
Dr.  Collyer's  Collection,  published  in  1812  ;  but  I  have  not 
been  able  to  ascertain  whether  the  variation  is  due  to  Dr. 
Collyer,  or  (as,  from  the  internal  evidence,  I  should  have 
thought  very  probable)  to  Montgomery  himself.  It  is  not, 
however,  included  in  Montgomery's  C(dle(;tion  of  his  own 
h3'mns.  published  in  1853,  nor  is  it  in  his  Christian  Psalmist, 
published  in  1825. 

CLViii. — The  last  four  out  of  five  stanzas.  (The  hymn  is  Xo.  86, 
Book  II.  of  Watts.) 

CLX. — Eight  out  of  eleven  stanzas.  (Theodosla's  Poems,  vol.  i.  page 
159;  Bristol  edition  of  1780.)  The  .stanzas  omitted  are  the 
fourth,  fifth,  and  sixth  of  the  authoress. 

CLxviii. — Seven  out  of  nine  stanzas.  The  fourth  and  eighth  of  Watts 
are  omitted. 

CLXXi. — Four  out  of  six  stanzas.  The  fourth  and  fifth  of  Watts'  are 
omitted. 

CLXXVi. — From  Hymns  and  Poems,  by  Sir  Edward  Denny,  Bart. 
(Nisbet,  1848.) 

CLXxviii. — The  first  five  out  of  six  stanzas. 

CLXXx.— The  text  of  tin's  h>Tnn  is  from  Dr.  Raffles'  Collection, 
whom  I  understand  (on  Mr.  Sedgwick's  authority)  to  liave 
had  it  from  the  author. 

CLXXXii.— This,  and  No.  ccxc-vt.  are  by  Dr.  Ray  Palmer,  a  living 
American  writer.  The  text  has  been  compared  with  authentic 
American  copies,  and  found  correct. 

OLXXXvi. — Eight  out  of  eleven  four-line  stanzas,  which  constitute 
the  latter  part  of  The  Covenant  and  Confidence  of  Faith,  in 


494  Notes, 

HYMN 

Baxter's  Poems  (Pickering's  edition,  1821 ;  page  71).  The 
stanzas  omitted  are  the  first,  third,  and  fifth,  at  the  page 
referred  to. 

CLXXxix. — Four  stanzas  out  of  eight.  The  hymn  is  No.  32  in  John 
Austin's  Offices.  The  stanzas  omitted  are  the  first  three,  and 
the  "Gloria"  at  the  end. 

cxc. — Five  stanzas  out  of  six.    The  stanza  omitted  is  Cowper's  fifth. 

cxci. — Five  stanzas  out  of  eight.  Those  omitted  are  Wesley's  fifth, 
sixth,  and  seventh.  The  hymn  is  at  page  30  of  the  Hymns  and 
Sacred  Poems  (Second  Edition;  Bristol,  1743). 

cxciii. — The  last  stanza  is  wanting  in  Miss  EUiott's  Hours  of  Sorroio 
cheered  arid  comjorted  (Fourth  Edition,  1849  ;  page  13(5).  It  is, 
however,  as  I  have  ascertained,  the  concluding  stanza  of  the 
hymn,  as  originally  composed  by  the  authoress. 

cxciv.— From  a  memoir  of  the  Life  of  Oberlin,  published  anony- 
mously in  1830  (London,  Ball).  The  translator  is  Mrs. 
Daniel  Wilson,  of  Islington ;  who,  since  this  edition  was 
prepared  for  the  press,  has  kindly  permitted  me  to  give  her 
name. 

cxcv.— Five  out  of  ten  stanzas  (Theodosia's  Poems;  vol.  i.  p.  134,  of 
the  edition  of  1780).  The  stanzas  omitted  are  the  third  to 
the  seventh  inclusive. 

ccii.— From  The  Rivulet  (Longman  and  Co. ;  Second  Edition 
1856). 

cciii.— Five  out  of  ten  stanzas,  from  Mant's  Holydays  of  the  Church 
(vol.  ii.  jtage  563).  The  Bishop's  fifth,  sixth,  seventh,  ninth, 
and  tenth  stanzas  are  omitted. 

ccv. — From  the  Hymns  for  Public  Worship,  of  the  Society  for 
Promoting  Christian  Knowledge.  The  author,  and  the 
original  text,  unknown. 

ccvi.— A  curious  example  of  a  successful  cento.  Each  stanza  is 
taken  from  a  different  hymn  by  Mason ;  the  four  hymns, 
which  have  each  contributed  one  stanza,  being  Nos.  6,  7,  9, 
and  8,  of  Mason's  Songs  of  Praise.  Mr.  Gurney  (who  had 
been  to  some  extent  anticipated  in  this  operation,  by  former 
Collectors — e.g.  Montgomery,  in  the  Christian  Psalmist,  gives 
a  composite  hymn  of  greater  length,  from  the  same  sources) 
has  introduced  some  slight  verbal  alterations,  which  are  here 
retained. 

CCTX.— Five  out  of  eight  stanzas  (Condefs  Hymns;  London,  Snow  ; 
p.  140).  The  stanzas  omitted  are  Conder's  second,  third,  and 
fourth. 

ccxiii.— The  text  is  that  of  the  second  Scotch  Paraphrase.  It  is 
slightly  different  from  that  printed  in  Logan's  works,  where 
some  of  the  pieces,  now  ascertained  to  be  by  Michael  Bruce, 
are  still  ascribed  to  Logan,  who  originally  published  them  as 
his  o-ivn.  The  true  original  (which  begins,  "  0  God  of  Jacob," 
&c.)  is  No.  4  of  Doddridge's  hymns ;  it  has  been  re-written, 
and  certainly  improved,  by  Logan. 

ccxix. — The  first  five  out  of  six  stanzas. 

ccxx. — The  first  five  out  of  six  stanzas  (fi'om  Watts  Divine  Songs 
for  Children;  Song  P). 


Notes.  495 

MTMN 

C'cxxiii.— Six  stanzas  out  of  eight  (from  Lyte's  rocms,  chiefly 
Iteligioxis;  London,  Nisbet ;  p.  l^iS).  The  stanzas  omitteil 
are  the  fourth  and  eighth  of  Lyte. 

ccxxiv. — The  text  of  this  hymn  is  from  Le  Bas'  Life  of  Bishop 
Middktoii  (Rivingtons,  1831). 

ccxxvi.— John  Mardley's  original  is  the  Ihimhle  Lamentation  of 
a  Sinner;  usually  appended  to  the  "Old  Version"  of  the 
Psahns.  In  Bishop  Heber's  book,  it  is  erroneously  ascribed 
to  Sternhold ;  and  no  notice  is  there  taken  of  tlie  Bisliop's 
extensive  variations. 

ccxxviTi.— Three  out  of  four  stanzas.  The  stanza  omitted  is  Mr. 
Russell's  third. 

ccxxix. — This  and  No.  ccm.  were  communicated  to  me  in  manu- 
script by  the  kindness  of  my  friend,  Mr.  Palgrave. 

ccxxxi.— Three  out  of  four  stanzas  ;  the  fourth  is  that  omitted. 

CCXLiii.— From  Hymns  for  Sunday  Schools,  Original  and  Selected 
(Cambridge  :  Second  Edition,  1844);  by  the  Rev.  C.  J.  Phipps 
Eyre.  The  first  two  and  the  fourth  lines  are  by  Waring, 
the  rest  by  a  different  hand,  but  whose,  I  have  not  been  able 
to  ascertain. 

ccxLiv.— This,  and  ccxciv,  first  appeared  in  HalVs  CoUection(l836). 
The  present  text  is  from  a  collection  of  tracts  and  hymns, 
published  in  1837,  with  the  author,  Mr.  Osier's,  name,  "under 
the  title  of  Church  and  King.    (Smith,  Elder,  and  Co. ) 

ccxLVi. — The  text  of  this,  and  of  Xos.  cclvii.  and  cci.xv.  is  from 
the  edition  of  1709,  containing  Bishop  Ken's  latest  correc- 
tions. That  of  the  earlier  editions  will  be  found  in  Mr. 
Anderdon's  Life  of  Ken,  and  in  Mr.  Sedgwick's  recent  edition 
of  Ken's  hymns  ;  since  the  publication  of  which,  the  discovery 
of  a  copy  of  the  edition  of  1709  (now  in  my  po.s.sessi(>n)  has 
settled  the  controversy,  preAiously  raised,  as  to  the  genuine- 
ness of  the  present  text. 

ccxLviii.— The  last  twelve  of  sixteen  stanzas,  from  the  first  poem 
in  the  Christian  Year. 

ccLiii.— I  am  indebted  for  the  communication  of  this  hymn  and 
No.  ccLxvi.  to  the  kindness  of  the  author,  the  Rev.  James 
Ford,  Prebendary  of  Exeter. 

CCLVi. — A  variation  froni  Watts'  "  Dread  Sovereign,  let  my  evening 
song"  (No.  VII.  of  Watts'  Hymns,  Book  H. ).  Browne  has 
altered  the  metre,  and  has  re-written  and  improved  the  whole 
composition. 

ccLix. — The  last  twelve  of  fourteen  stanzas,  from  the  second  poem 
in  the  Christian  Year. 

CCLX.— This  Hymn  (originally  taken  by  the  Editor  from  The  Xew 
Congregational  Hymn  Book,  Jackson,  Walford,  and  Co.),  was, 
by  mistake,  ascribed  in  the  former  iiniiressionsof  this  volume 
to  Thomas  Park.  It  was  first  published  in  The  Wreck  of  the 
Golden  Mary,  constituting  the  extra  number  of  Household 
Words,  for  Christmas,  1850. 

ccLXiv. — One  couplet  only  is  omitted ;  \\z.  that  which,  in  Doddridge's 
text,  follows  the  sixteenth  line.  The  hymn,  as  originally,  and 
generally,  printed,  is  divided  into  three  unequal  parts ;  tho 


496  Notes. 

H\MN 

first  consisting  of  eighteen  lines,  the  second  of  twenty-eight, 
and  the  third  of  twenty-foixr.  I  have  A'entured  to  adopt  a 
division  into  stanzas,  as  being  more  suitable  for  music. 

ccLxvii.  — Five  out  of  seven  stanzas.      The  omitted  stanzas  are 

Doddridge's  second  and  fifth. 
ccLxix. — This,  and  No.  ccxcix.  were  first  publi.shed  in  Lord  Nelson's 

Salisbury  Hymnal;   from  whence  they  are  taken,  and  the 

aiithor's  name  now  for  the  first  time  added,  by  Mr.  Keble's 

and  Lord  Nelson's  kind  permission. 

CCLXX. — The  repeated  couplet  is  talcen  from  Milton's  translation  of 
the  136th  Psalm;  with  the  change  of  Milton's  word  "aye," 
into  "still." 

ccLxxvi.  ccLxxix. — Both  these  are  taken  (with  four  of  his  own 
hymns),  by  the  permission  of  the  Rev.  Arthur  Tozer  Russell, 
from  his  Ilymn.Book  i Psalms  and  Hymns,  &c.  ;  Cambridge  ; 
Deighton,  1851),  in  which  they  were  first  published.  The 
author  is  the  Rev.  Henry  Dowuton,  formerly  of  Chatham, 
and  now  of  Geneva. 

ccLXxxi.— This,  and  No.  ccclxxxix.  are  from  Parish  Musings,  by 
the  Rev.  Dr.  J.  S.  B.  Monsell,  Vicar  of  Egham  (Rivingtons  ; 
Fifth  Edition  ;  1S60),  and  are  inserted  by  his  kind  permission. 

ccLxxxii. — This  Hymn  (now  ascertained  to  be  by  Mr.  Osier)  first 
appeared  in  the  Rev.  W.  J.  Hall's  collection  (London :  Wix, 
1836). 

ccLxxxv.— Six  out  of  twelve  stanzas.  Those  omitted  are  the  sixth 
to  the  eleventh,  inclusive,  of  Jacobi.  The  hymn  is  at  page 
189  of  Haberkorn's  Psalmodia  Germanica  (London,  1765). 

CCLXXxvii. — From  the  Hymn  Book  of  the  Society  for  Promoting 
Christian  Knowledge.  I  have  not  ascertained  the  Author,  or 
verified  the  text :  but  I  believe  the  Hymn  first  appeared  in  the 
Protestant  Episcopal  Collection  of  Hymns  (lSS2),a.i>iHf.n(ie(l  to  the 
version  of  the  Psalms  atthe  end  of  the  American  Prayer-Book. 

ccLxxxviii. — The  seven  last  out  of  fourteen  stanzas.  (Hymns  and 
Sacred  Poems  by  J.  ^  C.  Wesley:  second  edition:  1843:  page 
192). 

ccLxxxix. — Seven  out  of  eight  stanzas.  Montgomery's  last  stanza 
is  omitted. 

ccxc. — From  the  late  Rev.  Edward  Bickersteth's  Christian 
Psalmody.     The  author,  and  the  original  text,  unknown. 

ccxcii. — Crashaw's  hymn  is  a  translation  from  the  Adoro  te  devote 
of  Thomas  Aquinas.  It  consists  of  fifty-six  lines  ;  from  which 
most  of  the  lines  of  the  present  hymn  are  adopted,  with  more 
or  less  variation.  The  first  abridgment  (less  varied  than  the 
present,  and  containing  only  six  stanzas),  was  Hymn  18  in 
Austin's  Offices;  and  was  repeated,  with  the  change  of  one  or 
two  words,  by  Hickes  (Devotions ;  1706  ;  page  210).  The 
present  text  is  that  of  Dorrington's  variation  from  Austin  :  in 
whose  Reformed  Devotions  it  is  Hymn  23. 

ccxciiT.  —  From  the  collection  of  the  Rev.  R.  "Whittingham 
(Simpkiu  and  Marshall :  fourth  edition,  1843).  I  have  not 
been  able  to  trace  the  author,  or  the  original  text. 


NoUs. 


497 


ccxcv.— From  the  HjTnn-Book  of  the  Society  for  Promoting 
Christian  Knowledge.  The  author,  and  the  original  text, 
unknown. 

ccxcviii.— Ten  out  of  twenty-eight  stanzas  ;  from  a  poem  entitle<i 
Jesits  teaches  to  die;  at  page  80  of  the  fourtli  volinne  of  Bishop 
Ken's  works  (London  ;  1721).     The  stanzas  omitted,  are  tJie 
first  four  ;  the  tentli  to  the  eighteenth  inclusive  ;  the  twenty- 
second  to  the  twenty-fifth  inclusive  ;  and  the  twenty-eighth, 
cc— From  the  Church  Forcli,  (a  periodical  edited  bv  the  Rev. 
W.  J.  E.  Bennett,  Vicar  of  Frome);  No.  19,  July  2,  1855, 
page  353.     Hayes;  5,  Lyall  Place,  Eaton  Square.) 
cci.— Three  out  of  forty-three  stanzas.     The  poem  (a  translation 
from  the  Hymn  of  Pradentius,  Circa  cocequias  clefuncti)  is  in 
Williams'  Thoughts  in  Past  Years  (Rivingtons  ;  third  edition, 
1843  ;  page  296).     The  stanzas  selected  are  at  pages  304-5. 
cccii. — The  last  three  stanzas  of  James  Montgomery's,  The  Grave 
(Montgomery's  Poetical  Worls  complete  in  one  volume:  Lone- 
man  :  i)age  261).     They  now  constitute,  I  believe,  jtart  of  the 
epitaph  on  the  poet's  tomb, 
cccviii.  — Four  out  of  five  stanzas.     The  omitted  stanza,  a  "Gloria," 

is  Chandler's  last, 
cccx. — Five  out  of  six  stanzas.     The  omitted  stanza  is  Browne's 

last.    (Browne's  Hymns  and  Spiritual  Songs,  No.  203.) 
cccxi. — Eight  out  of  nine  stanzas.    The  omitted  stanza  is  Herbert's 

last. 
cccxii. — In  Mason's  Songs  of  Praise  (No.  19),  this  hymn  ends    as 
many  of  Mason's  hymns  do)  with  a  half-stanza  ;  the  general 
scheme  of  division  being  into  stanzas  of  eight  lines.     The 
concluding  half-stanza  is  omitted  here, 
ccc'xvii. — This  hjTun  was  first  privately  printed  in  1833.     It  was 
afterwards' subdivided  into  three  distinct  hvmns,  in  the  col- 
lection of  the    Rev.   H.    V.    Elliott  (the    husband  of   the 
authoress);  by  whose  kindness  I  have  been  enabled  to  re- 
unite, in  this  jdace,  the  parts  so  separated, 
cccxx. — From    the    late    Rev.    Edward    Bickersteth's    Christian 
Psalmody.      I  have  not  been  able  to  discover  the  author,  or 
the  original  text.     It  is  sometimes  eiToneously  attributed  to 
the  Hon.  &  Rev.  B.  W.  Noel. 
cccxxii.  cccxxiv.— The  text  of  both  these  is  from  the  late  Dr. 
Andrew  Reed's  collection.      Mr.   Hastings  is  an  American 
author  ;  and,  on  comparing  them  with  his  ivriginal  text,  since 
the  first  edition  of  the  present  volume  was  published,  they 
appear  to  be  correctly  given ;  except  that  the  refrain,  "  Re- 
turn, retui-n,"  in  No.  cccxxiv.  is  not  in  Mr.  Hastings'  book  : 
(Hymns  and  Poems,  New  York,  1850.) 
cccxxiii. — I  am  indebted  to  Mr.  Morris,  of  Worcester,  for  the 
communication  of  Mrs.  Morris'  volume,  entitled.  The  Voice 
and  the  Reply  (Worcester;  Grainger),  from  which  this  hymn 
is  taken, 
cccxxv.— From  the  twenty-ninth  edition  (published  about  1829)  of 
Dr.  Rippon's  Hynin-Book ;    where  it  is  attributed  to  Dr. 
K  K 


498 


Notes. 


HYMK 

Collyer.  It  is  not  in  Dr.  CoUyer's  owti  collection,  of  1812 ; 
and  I  have  not  succeeded  in  tracing  it  beyond  Dr.  Rippon's 
book. 

cccxxvi. — By  an  American  author,  whose  name  I  have  not  been 
able  to  ascertain.  It  was  communicated  by  liim  to  Miss 
Elliott,  the  authoress  of  the  h\nnn  by  which  it  was  sug- 
gested, "Just  as  I  am,"  &c.  (No.  cxlvii.  of  this  vohime),  and 
the  text  (which  I  have  not  had  the  means  of  verifying),  is 
from  a  small  printed  tract,  without  date,  placed  in  my  hands 
by  a  friend. 

cccxxix.— This  was  kindly  communicated  to  me  in  manuscript,  by 
the  author,  Robert  Smith,  Esq.  of  Holloway. 

cccxxxv. — Thirteen  out  of  sixteen  stanzas,  from  Hymns  and  Sacrzd 
Poems,  by  Ciiarles  Wesley ;  vol.  i.  p.  40  (Farley,  Bristol  ; 
second  edition,  1755). 

cccxxxvii. — The  hjTun  from  which  these  eight  stanzas  are  taken, 
was  first  published  in  twenty-two  stanzas  in  Spiritual  Songs 
by  J.  and  C.  IVcsley  (vol.  i.  p.  224,  fourth  edition,  1743). 
Afterwards  in  the  seventeenth  edition  (Pine,  Bristol,  1773 ; 
p.  30)  it  was  reduced  to  sixteen  stanzas.  In  both  it  begins, 
"And  wilt  Thou  yet  be  found." 

cccxLix.— -Miss  Elliott's  name  is  now  (through  the  kindness  of  her 
brother,  the  Rev.  H.  V.  Elliott,  in  obtaining  for  me  her  per- 
mission) first  made  public,  as  the  authoress  of  this  hymn. 
Through  some  accidental  error  it  is  ascribed  in  the  Rev. 
H.  V.  Elliott's  Collection  to  Wesley;  and  the  same  mistake 
has  been  transferred  to  Ryle's  Spirihial  Songs,  Bourchler's 
Solace  in  Sickness  and  Sorrow,  and  probably  other  books. 

cccLi. — Six  out  of  seven  stanzas  (Hymens  and  Sacred  Poems,  vol.  ii. 
p.  146 ;  second  edition,  1743).  Weslej^'s  last  stanza  is 
omitted;  and  a  change  of  arrangement,  which  the  Wesleys 
tliemselves  sanctioned  in  the  Hymn  Book  for  Methodists,  is 
ailopted,  by  placing  as  last  of  the  six  the  stanza  which  is 
second  in  the  original  text. 

cccLvi. — Five  out  of  six  stanzas.    Browne's  last  is  omitted. 

cccEviii. — Five  out  of  eight  stanzas.  Those  omitted  are  Mr. 
Massie's  third,  fourth,  and  seventh.  (From  Martin  Luther's 
Spiritual  Songs;  translated  by  E.  Massle,  Esq.  of  Eccleston: 
Hatchard,  1854.) 

cccLXiu. — From  the  original,  as  printed,  with  music,  by  the  late 
Baron  Bunsen,  and  communicated  to  me  by  a  friend. 

cccLxiv. — In  most  of  the  editions  of  Kelly's  hj-mns  (Including  that 
of  1836),  this  is  a  hymn  of  ten  stanzas  ;  of  wlilch  the  fifth, 
sixth,  seventh,  and  tenth,  are  here  omitted.  In  the  edition 
of  1812,  it  was  reduced  by  the  author  himself  to  six  stanzas  ; 
being  (except  the  last),  the  same  with  the  present  text.  The 
last  stanza  of  that  edition  was  unequal  to  the  rest ;  and  was 
omitted  by  the  author  in  aU  the  later  editions. 

cccLxviii. — From  Nugce  Sacrce;  or,  Psalms  and  Hymns  and  Spiritual 
Songs  (Hatchard,  1825). 


Notes.  499 

HYMN 

cccLxx. — The  seven  last  of  twenty  stanzas ;  from  Erskine's  Gosfd 
Sonnets  (twtntietli  edition :  Berwick:  Phorson;  1788:  page 
272). 

cccLxxv. — Tfiis  is  No.  47  in  Hymns  hy  R.  C.  Chapman  (London  : 
Jolm  R.  Biitenian,  1,  Ivy  Lane).  This  edition,  which  is  with- 
out date,  was  published  in  1352.  The  same  hymn,  in  a  slightly 
different  form,  had  appeared  in  the  earlier  edition  of  the 
Author's  hymns,  x>ublished  in  1837  (John  F.  Shaw,  Southamp- 
ton Row,  Russell  Square). 

cccLXXvi. — (From  Lyte's  Poems,  cldejly  Religious ;  i)age  41).  Tliis 
hymn  had  been  in  circulation  several  years  belore  the  pub- 
lication of  that  volume,  and  will  be  found  in  the  Christian 
Rsabnist  (IS2J),  and  hi  Hymns  fur  I'rivute  Devotion,  Selected 
and  Original  (Hatchard,  1827).  It  has  sometimes  been 
erroneously  attributed  to  Miss  GrenfeU.' 

(.ccLXXxi.  cccLxxxii.— I  am  indebted  for  the  communication  of  the 
volumes  from  which  tliese  two  pieces  are  taken  (Songs  for 
the  Suffering;  and  The  Family  Hymnal ;  London:  Hamilton, 
Adams,  &  Co.),  to  the  kindness  of  the  author,  the  Rev. 
Thomas  Davis,  Incumbent  of  Ruundhay,  Yorkshire. 

ccCLXXxvii. — Five  out  of  nine  stanzas  (from  Watts'  Hymn  59,  of 
Book  II).  The  stanzas  omitted  are  the  first,  second,  lifth, 
and  sixth. 

cocxc.  —Five  out  of  six  stanzas.  The  omitted  stanza  is  the  fourth 
of  Watts. 

cccxcii.— This  has  been  made  up  by  putting  together  two  stanzas 
taken -from  No.  23  (with  some  slight  variation),  and  two 
otliers  taken  (without  variation)  from  No.  28  of  Mason's 
Songs  of  Praise.  Lady  Huntingdon  added  two  stanzas  more 
from  the  latter  hymn,  which  are  here  omitted. 

COCCI. — Six  out  of  eight  stanzas.  The  stanzas  omitted  are  Kelly's 
second  and  third. 

coccii.— This  hymn  (in  five  stanzas,  of  which  the  fourth  is  here 
omitted)  appears  in  the  second  series  of  Sacred  Poetry  (Edin- 
burgh: Oliphaut),  first  published  about  1835.  Dr.  Bonar 
spoke  of  it  to  Mr.  Sedgwick  as  one  which  he  remembered 
as  early  as  1825.  In  the  Chelsea  Collection  (Psalms  and 
Hymns  for  Puhlic  Worship:  Seeleys  ;  second  edition;  1853) 
it  bears  the  name  of  "Newton  ; "  but  I  have  not  been  able  to 
trace  the  true  author.     John  Newton's  it  certainly  is  not. 

cccciii.— From  Hymns  and  Anthevis  (Fox,  Paternoster  Row); 
a  volume  edited  by  Mr.  William  Johnson  Fox;  to  whom  this 
hymn  was  given  for  iiublication  by  ihe  authoress. 

CCCCix. — From  Thoughts  for  Thoughtful  Hours  (Nelson,  Edinburgli, 
1859).  "  H.  L.  L."  is  the  signature  of  the  translators  of  Hymns 
from  the  Land  of  Luther. 


K  K  2 


500  Notes. 


NOTES  TO  ADDITIONAL  HYMNS. 


I.— I  am  indebted  to  the  Rev.  J.  Keble  for  permission,  obtained 
through  him,  to  introduce  this  and  the  other  additional 
Hymns  of  the  late  Professor  Joseph  Anstiee.  The  two 
numbered  cclxxiii.  and  cccxxvii.  I  had  previously  taken 
from  the  Child's  Christian  Year;  (in  which  the  additional 
Hymn,  No.  24,  will  also  be  found.)  The  collected  hjanns  of 
the  author  have  never  been  made  public,  though  they  were 
privately  printed,  after  his  death,  in  1836. 

V. — The  first  four  out  of  five  stanzas. 

VII. — From  Bishop  Mant's  Holydays  of  the  Chnrch,  &c.  vol.  i.  p. 
.360. 

viii. — This  is  the  original  translation  of  Mr.  Williams  (omitting  the 
last  twelve  lines),  of  which  Hymn  lxi.  is  a  variation. 

XI. — The  t«xt    is  that  of  the   58th   Scotch  Paraphrase  ;    and, 
although  differing  from  that  given  in  Logan's  works,  may  be 
regarded  as  altei'ed  bj'  himself,  or  with  his  authority. 
XII.— Five  out  of  six  stanzas  (Olney  Hymns,  Book  I.  No.  53). 

XV.— This  is  No.  856  in  Dr.  C.ollyer's  Hyran-Book  of  1812.  Dr. 
Collyer,  in  a  note,  states,  that  he  is  himself  the  author  of  the 
last  three  stanzas,  having  never  seen  more  than  the  first, 
which  (following  a  popular  error)  he  assumes  to  be  a  trans- 
lation from  Luther,  by  whose  name  it  is  usually  called,  and 
to  one  of  whose  tunes'  it  is  set  and  sung.  The  original  German 
hymn,  however,  on  which  this  is  founded  (beginning,  "£s  ist 
geivisslich  an  der  Zeii,")  is  not  by  Luther,  but  by  Benjamin 
Ringwald.  I  have  not  been  able  to  discover  the  author  of  the 
first  English  stanza. 

XVI.  XVIII. — These  two  popular  hymns  constitute  parts  of  Dr.Neale's 
translation  of  The  Rhythm  of  Bernard  de  Morlaia\  Monk  of 
Cluny,  on  the  Celestial  Country.  (London  :  J.  T.  Hayes,  1862.) 
The  entire  translation  is  very  long  (442  lines).  The  Latin 
original  begins  with  the  line, 

"■'Hora  novissima,  tempora  pessima  sunt,  vigilernus." 

XXII.  XXX. — From  Hymns  from  the  Gospel  of  the  Day  for  each  Sun- 
day and  the  Festivals  of  our  Lord,  by  the  Rev.  J.  E.  Bode. 
(Oxford  and  London  :  J.  H.  &  J.  Parker,  1860.) 

XXVII. — I  am  indebted  for  this  to  the  kindness  of  the  translator. 

XXXI. — The  fii-st  four  out  of  five  stanzas.  {Olney  Hymns,  Book  I. 
No.  50. 

XXXIV. — I  am  indebted  for  this  to  the  author. 


LIST    OF    AUTHORS. 


Adams,  Sarah  Flower  (1840)  cccciii 

Addisox,  Joseph  (172S)  xiii,  ci.xxiif,  ccxvi,  a  23 

Alexander,  Cecil  Frances  (1853 — 1858)  cxlviii,  clxiii 

Alford,  Henry  (1845)  xcii,  cxxx,  cclxxiv,  cclxxxiii,  cr;cix 

Anstice,  Joseph  (1830)  cclxxjii,  cccxxvii,  a  1,  a  11,  a  13,  a  25 

AuBER,  Harriett  (1829)  xl 

Austin,  John  (1668)  xxvi,  lxx,  clxxxix,  ccxni,  ccci.xvii 

Baker,  Sir  Henry  (1857—1861)  clxii,  cxcii,  cclxx 

Lakkwell,  John  (1760)  lxxi 

Ball,  William  (1825)  (XClxviii 

Barbauld,  Anna  Lfetitia  (1773)  Lviii,  cxxxvin,  cclXxt,  a  35 

Bathurst,  William  Hiiey  (1831)  lvj,  cxi,  clxxv,  clxXxiv,  ccxci 

Baxter,  Richard  (1G81)  cxxxxvi 

Beddome,  Benjamin  [1818]  cccxlii 

Berridge,  John  (1785)  cxiii,  c;c 

BiCKERSTETH,  Edwanl  Heniy  (1858)  ccxxii 

Bode,  John  Ernest  (1860)  a  22,  a  30. 

BoNAR,  Horatius  (1856)  cxcvii,  cccxxxiii,  ccclxix,  ccclxxiv 

A  28 
Bowdler,  John  (1814)  xxn,  ccxxxiv 
BowLY,  Mary  (1847)  ccccviii 
Browne,  Simon  (1720)  xcvi,  cclvi,  cccx,  ccclvi 
Browne,  T.  B.  (1844)  xxv 
Bruce,  Michael  (1768)  ijcxxi 
Burns,  James  D.  (1856)  cccxiii 
Byrom,  John  (1773)  cccxxxviii 

Cameron,  William  (1770)  cxiv 

Cawood,  John  (1816)  a  19 

Cennick,  John  (1742)  xc,  cxxvr,  ccclii 

Chandler,  John  (1837)  lxi,  cxxviii,  cxxxix,  ccli,  cccviii 

Chapman,  Robert  C.  (1837)  cccLXXV 

CoNDER,  Josiali  (1856)  lxxvi,  lxxxviii,  ccix 

CoLLVER,  William  Ben^'o  [1829J  cccxxv,  a  14. 

Cotterill.  Thomas  [1810J  v 

CowpER,  William   (1779)  cv,  cxxxvi,   cxLiii,  cxc,   ccuxlvi, 

CCCLXXI,  CCCLXXVIIl,  CCCLXXXV,  CCCLXXXVIII,  CCCXCI,  CCCXCV, 
A  31 

Crashaw,  Richard  (1646)  ccxcii 
Crossman,  Samuel  (1664)  cix,  cliii 
Cox,  Frances  Elizabeth  (1S41)  cccxxxii 

Davis,  Thomas  (1850,  1860)  ccclxxxi,  ccclx.vxii,  a  34 
Darling,  Tliomas(lS57)  vii 
Denny,  Sir  Edward  (1«4«)  clxxvi 


503  List  of  Authors. 


Dix,  William  Chatterton  (1S61)  xli 

Doddridge,   Philip  (1755)  xlti,  cxviii,  cxxix,  cxxxi,  cltx, 

CCVII,    CCXII,    CCXIII,     CCLXIV,    CCLXVII,     CCLXXVII,      CCLXXX, 
CCCIV,  CCCXVITI,  CCCXCIII,  A  29 

DoKRiNGTON,  Tlieophilus  (16S6)  ccxcii 
DowNToN,  Hemy  (1S51)  ccLxxvi,  cclxxix 
Drexxax,  "William  (1815)  cxxxvii 
Dysox,  Charles  (1816)  ccclix 

Edmestox,  James  (1820)  ccxxvii,  cccxcvi 

Elliott,  Charlotte  (183C)  cxlvii,  cxciii,  cccxxviir,  cccxlix, 

CCCL,    CCCLXXII 

Elliott,  Julia  Anne  (1833)  cccxvii 
Erskine,  Kalph  (1734)  ccclxx 

Faxch,  James  (1791)  lxxiii 
Flowerdew,  Anne  (ISll)  cclxviti 
Ford,  James  (1856)  ccliit,  cclxvi 

Gibbons,  Thomas  (1784)  xvi,  cccxciv 
GiSBORXE,  Thomas  (1803)  cxix 

Grant,  Sir  Robert  (1806-1839)  xxi,  lxviit,  cvii,  cccxcvm 
Gray,  A.  (1851)  lxii 
Grigg,  Joseph  (1765)  cccxxx 
Grixfield,  Thomas  (1836)xxxii,  ccviii,  ccxcvii 
GuRNEY,  John  Hampden  (1851)  xviii,  cxlix,  ccvi,  cclxxii. 
A  20 

Hammoxd,  William  (1745)  xcv,  cxxvii,  ccclxxiii 

Hart,  Joseph  (1759)  xcviii 

Hastings,  Thomas  [1842]  cccxxii,  cccxxiv 

Havergal,  William  Henry  (1833)  lxxix 

Haweis,  Thomas  (1792)  cc'xxxix 

Heber,  Bishop  Reginald  (1811-1827)  i,  lxxxiv,  lxxxvii,  cxvit, 

cxli,  clxxvti,  ccxiv,  ccxxv,  coxxvi,  ccxlii,  cclxi,  cccv, 

cccxxxi,  ccclxt,  a  2,  a  10 
Herbert,  Algernon  [1839]  ccclxiti 
Herbert,  George  (1632)  xx,  cccxi 
Hill,  Rowland  (1783—1796)  cxii,  clii 
How,  William  Walsham  (1860)  l,  ccijcxxvi 
Hunt,  John  (1853)  x 

Huntingdon,  Selina,  Countess  of  (1780)  cccxcii 
Hurn,  William  (1813)  lxxxvi,  cm 

Irons,  William  Josiah  (1853)  cxcvi 

Jacobi,  John  Christian  (1722)  c,  cclxxxv 

Keble,  John  (1827—1857)  xiv,  xxxi,  xciii,  ccxlviii,  cclix, 

CCLXIX,  ccxcix 
Kelly,  Thomas  (1804—1836)  xxxv,  xliij,  xlv,  xltx,  lxxviii, 

LXXXV,     CXX,    CXXI,    CXXIV,    CLXXIX,    CCXV,    CCLXII,   CCCXVI, 
CCCXXI,  CCCLXIV,  CCCCI 

Ken,   Bishop  Thomas    (1700—1721),    ccxlvi,  cclvii,   cct.xv, 

CCXCVIIl 

Kirke-White,  Henrj-  (1803—1806)  cxxii,  cclviii 

Logan,  John  (1770)  ccxiii,  a  9 
Lynch,  Thomas  Toke  (1855)  ecu 


List  of  Authors.  503 

Lyte,  Henrj-  Fraiicis  (1833—1847)  xi.  xxni,  xxiv,  liii,  cxxxii, 
CLXXXIII,  cLxxxvni,  ccxxiii,  ccxxxv,  ccxxxv,  CCXXXVII, 
CCCXV,  CCCLXV,  CCCLXXVI.  CCCLXXXVI,  CCCCV 

Madan,  Martin  (1760)  xc,  cxxvii 

Maitlan'D,  Fannv  Fuller  (1827)  cxxii 

Mant,  Bishoi)  Richard  (1831—1837)  ii,  Lxix,  cr,  cciii,  a  7 

Mardlkv,  Jolin  (156-2),  ccxxvi 

Marriott,  John  (1816)  clxxx 

Mason,  John  (16S3)  civ,  ccvi,  cccxn,  cccxcii 

Massie,  Richard  (1S5-1)  ccclviii 

Medley,  Samuel  (17S9— 1800)  cli,  cccxl 

MiuDLETON,  Bisliop  Thomas  Faushaw  [1831]  ccxxiv 

Miles,  Susan  L.  (1S40]  lxvi 

Millard,  James  Klwin  (1848)  iv 

MiLMAN,  Henrv  Hart  (1822—1827)  ccxxxviiT,  cccvi,  a  3,  a  4 

MoNSELL,  John  S.  B.  (1837—1850)  ccxxxxi,  ccclxxxix 

Montgomery,  James  (1S03— 1853)  iii.  xxxvi,  lxxx,  xcix,  cxi, 

CXV,    CI.V,    CLXIV,   CLXIX,    CLXX,    CLXXVIII,    CCXXI,   CCLXXXIX, 
CCCII,  CCCVII,  CCCXIX,  CCCLX,  CCCCX,  A  17,  A  33 

Moore,  Henrv  [ISOG]  ccclxii 
Morris,  Eliza  Fanny  [1858]  cccxxiii 
Morrison,  John  (1770)  xxxix,  cccxi.iv 

Xeale,  John  Mason  (1851—1854)  xxix,  lxiv,  Cf.Liv,  a  16,  a  18, 

Newman,  John  Henry  (1833)  cccciv 

Newton,     John    (1779)    xlvit,     lv,     lxxvit,     cxvi,    cxxv, 

CLXVI,  CLXXXI,  CXCIX,    CCXIX,    CCXLI,     CCLXXVIIT,    CCCXXXIV, 
CCCLXXXIV,  CCCXCVII,  A  12,  A  26,  A  32 

Noel,  Baptist  Wriothesley  (1841)  ccclxxix 

Olivers,  Thomas  (1757—1772)  xci,  ccccxi 
Osler,  Edward  (1856)  ccxliv,  ccxciv,  cclxxxii 

Palgrave,  Francis  Turner  (1862)  ccxxix,  cclii 
Palmer,  Ray  [1840]  clxxxii.ccxcvi 
Parr,  Harriett  (1856)  cclx 

Quarles,  John  (1654)  vn 

Reed,  Andrew  (1842)  clxvii 

RicKARDS,  .Samuel  (1825)  xxxvii 

Russell,  Arthur  Tozer  (1851)  lxvii,  ccxxvm,  cclxxv,  ccclv 

Ryland,  John  (1777)  ccx,  ccxi 

Seagrave,  Robert  (1748)  CLXV 

Sears,  Edmund  H.  [ISCO]  xxxvm 

Scott,  Robert  Allan  (1830)  cijucii 

Scott,  Sir  Walter  (ISOr.)  a  15 

Skelton,  Philip  (1784)  xxvui 

Smith,  Robert  (lS'"-2)  cccxxix 

Steele,  Anne  (1760)  clx,  cxcv,  cccxxxvi,  cccxli 

Swain,  Joseph  (1792)  cxxxiv 

Tate,  Nahum  (1703)  xxxm 

Taylor,  Bishop  Jeremy  (1653)  clxxiv 

ToKK,  Emma(I>-51)  i.xv 


504  List  of  Authors. 

ToMALiN,  James  Bullivant  [1860]  a  27 

ToPLADY,  Augustus  Moutague  (1709—1777)  c,  cxlv,  clvi,  cci, 

CCCLIV,  CCCC,  CCCCVII,  CCCCXII 

Turner,  Daniel  (1791)  lxxiii 

Waring,  Anna  Lsetitia  (1850—1860)  cxcviii 

Waring,  Samuel  Miller  (1S27)  ccxliii 

Watts,  Isaac  (1709— 1720)  vi,  viii,  ix,  xri,  xv,  xvii,  xliv,  xlviit, 

I,II,  LXIII,  LXXII,  LXXIV,  LXXXII,  LXXXIIX,  XCVII,  CVI,  CXIV, 
CXXIII,  CXXXIII,  CXLIT,  CLIV,  CLVIII,  CLXI,  CLXVIII,  CLXXI, 
CCIV,  CCXVJI,  CCXVm,  CCXX,  CCXXXIII,  CCXLV,  CCXLVIl,  CCLVI, 
CCCIII,  CCCXIV,  CCCLIII,  CCCLXVI,  CCCLXXVII,  CCCLXXXIII, 
CCJCLXXXVII,  cccxc,  a  5,  A  6 

Wesley,  Charles(1739— 1762)  viii,  xxxiv,  xlvi,  liv,  lix,  lxxv, 

LX^OCIX,  XC,  CXL,  CXLIV,  CXLVI,  CLVII,  CLXXXV,  CLXXXVII, 
CXCI,  CCXL,  CCL,  CCLXIII,  CCLXXXVIII,  CCCXXXV,  CG^XXXVII, 
CCCXXXIX,  CCCXLIII,  CCCXLV,  CCCXLVII,  CCCLI,  CCCLVII,  A  21 

Wesley,  John  (1739— 1743)  lxx,   cxxxv,   ccxxx,  CGCXLvrii, 

ccccvi 
White,  Hem-y  Kirke  (see  Kivke  White) 

Williams,  Isaac  (1838-1842)  xix,  xxx,  lxi,  ccci,  ccclsxx,  a  8 
Williams,  William  (1759—1774)  Lt,  ccxxxi,  ccxxxii 
Wilson,  Mrs.  Daniel  (1S30)  cxciv 
WiNKwoRTH,  Catherine  (1858)  cccxcix 
Wither,  George  (1641)  xxvii,  ccxlix,  cclv,  cclxxxiv 
Wordsworth,  William  (1834)  a  24 

Anonymous,  from  miscellaneous  Collections,  lx,  cx,  cl, 
CCV,  CCLXXXVII,  ccxc,  ccxciii,  ccxcv,  ccc,  cccxx,  CCCXXVJ, 
CCCCII 

Ditto,  "  F.  B.  P."  [1616]  cviii 

Ditto,  "H.  L.  L."  [1859]  ccccix 

Ditto,  "M.  G.  T."  (1831)  lvii 

Ditto,  from  Ordination  Ser\dce  [1662]  xciv 


INDEX  OF  FIRST  LINES. 

PAGE 

Abide  with  iiic  !  fast  tills  the  even-tide 432 

Accept,  my  God,  my  evening  song 270 

Again  the  Lord  of  Life  and  Light 61 

All  praise  to  Him  wlio  dwells  in  bliss 278 

All  praise  to  thee,  my  God,  this  night 271 

All  wondering  on  the  desert  ground 473 

Almighty  God,  Thy  piercing  eye 235 

Almighty  God,  Tliy  word  is  cast 470 

And  can  it  be,  that  I  should  gain 303 

And  have  1  measured  half  my  days 355 

And  shall  I  sit  alone 309 

Another  year  has  tied  ;  renew 294 

A  poor  wayfaring  man  of  grief 385 

Approach,  my  soul,  the  mercy-seat 234 

As  o'er  the  past  my  .memory  strays 238 

A  soldiei-'s  course,  from  battles  won 134 

As  witli  gladness  men  of  old 46 

A  thousand  years  have  fleeted 3G1 

Awake,  and  sing  the  song 142 

Awake,  my  soul,  and  with  the  sun 257 

Awake,  my  soul,  awake  to  prayer 283 

Awake,  my  soul,  lift  up  thine  eyes 485 

Awake,  ye  saints,  and  raise  your  eyes 296 

Away  with  sorrow's  sigh 32 

Before  Jehovah's  awful  throne 7 

Behold  !  a  Strangei-'s  at  the  doors 348 

Behold,  tlie  morning  sun 118 

Beliold  !  the  Mountain  of  the  Lord 91 

Behold  tlie  sun,  that  secm'd  but  now 269 

Beneath  Thy  cruss  I  lay  me  down 55 

Beyond  the  glittering  starry  globe 79 

Blest  are  the  huiuble  souls  that  see 220 

Blest  be  Tky  love,  dear  Lord 205 

Blow  ye  the  trumpet,  blow 57 

Bound  upon  tli'  accursed  tree 454 

Brief  life  is  here  our  portion 469 

Brightest  aii<l  best  (jf  the  sons  of  the  morning 452 

Bright  was  the  guiding  star  that  led 46 

Brother,  thou  art  gone  before  ns  ;  and  thy  saintly  sold  is  flown  322 

By  faith  in  Christ  1  walk  with  God 410 

Calm  me,  my  God,  and  keep  me  calm 395 

Cliild  of  sin  and  sorrow 341 

Cliildren  of  the  Heavenly  King 141 

Christ  is  our  corner-stone 324 

Christ,  niy  hidden  Life,  ai)pear 382 

Christ  the  Lord  is  risen  to-day 62 

Christ,  whose  glory  fills  th.-  skies 263 

Come,  Holy  Ghost,  our  souls  inspire 106 

Come,  Holy  Spirit,  come 110 

Come,  Holy  ISpirit,  heavenly  Duve 108 


5o6  Index  of  First  Lines. 

PAor 

Come,  Holy  Spirit,  heavenly  Dove 109 

Come,  let  us  join  our  cheerful  songs 45(5 

Come,  let  us  join  our  friends  above 153 

Come,  let  us  to  the  Lord  our  God 364 

Come,  my  soul,  thy  suit  prepare 19S 

Come,  O  come  !  in  pious  lays 27 

Come,  O  thou  Traveller  unknown 365 

Come,  take  my  yoke,  the  Saviour  said 347 

Come,  we  that  love  the  Lord 138 

Come,  ye  thankful  people,  come 292 

Commit  thou  all  thy  griefs 433 

Compared  with  Christ,  in  all  beside 379 

Day  of  anger,  that  dread  Day 102 

Dearest  of  names,  our  Lord  and  King 163 

Deathless  principle,  arise 169 

Early,  my  God,  without  delay 417 

Earth  to  earth,  and  dust  to  dust 162 

Ere  another  Sabbath's  close 337 

Eternal  Beam  of  Light  Divine 472 

Eternal  God,  of  beings  First 381 

Eternal  source  of  every  jov 286 

Exalted  high  at  God's  right  hand 127 

Fain  would  my  thoughts  fly  up  to  Thee 393 

Far  from  my  heavenly  home 391 

Far  from  these  narrow  scenes  of  night 173 

Far  from  the  world,  0  Lord,  I  flee 405 

Father,  by  Thy  love  and  power 476 

Father,  I  know  that  all  my  life 213 

Father  of  Love,  our  Guide  and  Friend 211 

Fearless,  calm,  and  strong  in  love 485 

Fierce  passions  discompose  the  mind 397 

For  ever  with  the  Lord 440 

Forth  from  the  dark  and  stormy  sky 233 

Forth  in  Thy  Name,  O  Lord,  I  go 201 

For  mercies,  countless  as  the  sands 482 

For  Thy  mercy  and  Thy  grace 297 

Fountain  of  mercy !  God  of  love 286 

Friend  after  friend  departs 177 

From  all  that  dwell  below  the  skies 254 

From  Egj'pt  lately  come 139 

From  Greenland's  icy  mountains 93 

Full  of  weakness  and  of  sin 114 

Glorious  things  of  Thee  are  spoken 131 

God  eternal.  Lord  of  all 3 

God  is  our  Refuge,  tried  and  proved 247 

God  moves  in  a  mj-sterious  way 417 

God  of  mercy,  throned  on  high 308 

God  of  mv  salvation,  hear 159 

Godofthat  glorious  gift  of  grace 299 

God  of  the  morning,  at  whose  voice  ! 259 

God,  that  madest  earth  and  heaven 277 

Go  up;  go  up,  my  heart 400 

Go,  worship  at  Emanuel's  feet 377 

Gracious  Spirit,  dwell  with  me 218 

Great  God,  what  do  I  see  and  her.r 4(35 

Great  God,  Wliose  universal  sway 93 

Guide  me,  0  Thou  great  Jehovah 243 


/;/  dex  of  Fi)  st  L  in  es.  507 

I'AHE 

Hail,  thou  bright  and  sacred  mom 3M  t 

Hail,  Thou  once  despised  Jesus 7i'' 

Hail  to  the  Lord's  Anointed Kit 

Happy  soul!  thy  days  are  ended 171 

Happy  the  man,  whose  hopes  rely 11 

Hark  !  how  all  the  welkin  rings ::iS 

Hark,  my  soul,  how  everj' thing 25 

Hark,  my  soul !  it  is  the  Lord 3GS 

Hark,  the  glad  sound  !  the  Saviour  conies 47 

Hark,  'tis  a  martial  sound  ! 135 

Harp,  awake !  tell  out  the  story 295 

Haste,  traveller,  haste  !  the  night  comes  on 343 

He,  Who  on  earth  as  man  was  known SO 

Hear,  gracious  God  !  a  sinner's  cry 3'31 

Hear,  gracious  God  !  my  humble  moan 3G2 

Hear  my  prayer,  O  heavenly  Father 27G 

Heavenly  Father,  to  Whose  eye 224 

Here,  O  my  Lord,  I  see  Thee  face  to  face 47lJ 

Holy  Ghost,  dispel  our  sadness 112 

Holy,  holy,  lioly,  Lord 2 

Holy,  holy,  holy.  Lord  God  Almighty 1 

Holy  Spirit,  gently  come 107 

Holy  Spirit,  in  my  breast 113 

Hosanna  !  raise  the  pealing  hymn 88 

Hosanna  to  the  Living  Lord  !        154 

How  blest  the  sacred  tie  that  binds 151 

How  briglit  these  glorious  spirits  shine \'l'.'* 

How  gentle  God's  commands 22s 

How  rich  Thy  favours,  God  of  grace 145 

How  sweet  the  Name  of  Jesus  sounds 51 

How  vast  the  treasure  we  possess 409 

I  give  immortal  praise 5 

I  heard  the  voice  of  Jesus  say 353 

I  praised  the  earth,  in  beauty  seen 3S7 

I  saw,  and  lo  !  a  countless  throng 444 

I  sing  th' almighty  power  of  God 1(> 

In  evil  long  I  took  delight 354 

In  memory  of  the  Saviour's  love 311 

Interval  of  grateful  shade 27S 

In  token  that  thou  shalt  not  fear 30O 

It  came  upon  the  midnight  clear 43 

Jerusalem,  my  happy  home 1 23 

Jerusalem,  my  happy  home 125 

Jerusalem  the  golden 4f37 

Jesu  !  behold,  the  Wise  from  far 74 

Jesu  !  guide  our  way 241 

Jesu,  lover  of  my  soul 25  J 

Jesu,  my  strength,  my  hope 374 

Jesu,  Thou  art  my  Righteousness 157 

Jesu  !  who  for  my  transgression 380 

Jesus,  cast  a  look  on  me 215 

Jesus  Christ  is  risen  to-day ti4 

Jesus,  I  my  cross  have  taken 402 

Jesns  !  lead  us  with  Thy  power 244 

Jesus,  my  all,  to  Heaven  is  gone 375 

Jesus  shall  reign  where'er  the  sun 92 

Jesus,  the  Shepherd  of  the  sheep 230 


5o8  Index  of  First  Lines. 

PAGE 

Jesus,  thou  Joy  of  loving  hearts 313 

Jesus,  Thy  Church  Avith  longing  eyes 191 

Jesus,  when  near  th'  expected  hour 315 

Jesus,  where'er  Thy  people  meet ....  150 

Join  all  the  glorious  names 77 

Joy  to  the  world,  the  Lord  is  come 49 

Just  as  I  am,  without  one  plea 160 

Just  as  thou  art,  without  one  trace 845 

Lamb  of  God,  I  look  to  Thee 306 

Lead,  kindly  Light,  amid  th'  encircling  gloom 431 

Lead  us,  heavenly  Father,  lead  ns 240 

Let  all  the  world  in  every  corner  sing 19 

Let  all  the  world  rejoice 9 

Let  Jacob  to  his  Maker  sing 419 

Let  me  be  with  Thee  where  Thou  art 398 

Light  of  the  lonely  pilgrim's  heart 192 

Lo  !  God  is  here  !  Let  us  adore 149 

Lo  !  He  comes  !  let  all  adore  Him 48 

Lo  !  He  conies,  with  clouds  descending 99 

Lo  !  He  comes  with  clouds  descending 100 

Lo  !  the  day  the  Lord  hath  made 456 

Long  did  1  toil,  and  knew  no  earthly  rest 412 

Lord,  as  to  Thy  dear  cross  we  flee     . 471 

Lord  !  come  away 191 

Lord  God  of  morning  and  of  night 266 

Lord  God  the  Holy  Ghost Ill 

Lord.  I  feel  a  carnal  mind 216 

Lord,  in  the  day  Thou  art  about 222 

Lord,  in  Thy  Name  Thy  servants  plead     .     .     , 287 

Lord  Jesu,  when  we  stand  afar 54 

Lord,  may  the  inward  grace  abound 299 

Lord  of  hosts  !  to  Thee  we  raise 323 

Lord  of  mercy  and  of  might 461 

Lord  of  my  life,  whose  tender  care 222 

Lord  of  the  harvest !  once  again 292 

Lord  of  the  harvest !  Thee  Ave  hail 291 

Lord  of  the  Sabbath  !  hear  our  vows 335 

Lord  of  the  Avorlds  above 147 

Lord,  thou  hast  form'd  mine  eveiy  part 188 

Lord,  Avhen  before  Thy  throne  we  meet 312 

Lord,  when  I  lift  my  voice  to  Thee  .     .     , 201 

Mercy  alone  can  meet  my  case 235 

Morning  lifts  her  deAvy  veil 459 

Much  in  sorroAV,  oft  in  Avoe 137 

Mu.-)t  friends  and  kindred  droo^j  and  die 319 

My  faith  looks  up  to  Thee 199 

My  God  and  Father,  Avhile  I  stray 208 

My  God,  and  is  Thy  Table  spread 480 

My  God,  my  King,  Thy  various  praise 1S7 

My  God,  now  I  from  sleep  awake 281 

My  God,  the  Spring  of  all  my  joys 404 

My  life's  a  shade,  my  days 166 

My  Lord,  my  love  was  crucified 329 

My  Shepherd  Avill  supply  my  need 232 

My  soul,  amid  this  stormy  world 400 

My  soul,  repeat  His  praise ,     .  155 

My  spirit  longeth  for  Thee 359 


Index  of  First  Lines.  509 

FACE 

My  spirit  on  Thy  care 204 

My  trust  is  in  the  Lord 246 

Nearer,  my  God,  to  Tliee 430 

Not  all  the  blood  of  beasts 455 

Not  unto  us,  Almighty  Lord 10 

Now,  gracious  Lord,  Tliine  arm  reveal 477 

Now  I  have  found  the  ground  wherein 370 

Now  is  the  hour  of  darkness  past S3 

Now  it  belongs  not  to  my  care 202 

Now  let  our  mourning  hearts  revive 320 

Now  let  us  join  with  liearts  and  tongues 58 

Now  may  He,  who  from  the  dead 252 

Now  morning  lifts  her  dewy  veil 64 

Now  to  Him,  who  loved  us,  gave  us 253 

O  day  most  calm,  most  bright 327 

O  for  a  closer  wallc  with  God 415 

O  for  an  heart  to  praise  my  God 206 

O  for  a  thousand  tongues  to  sing 51 

O  God  of  Bethel,  by  whose  hand 228 

O  God,  Thou  art  my  God  alone 186 

O  God,  Thy  grace  and  blessing  give 163 

O  God.  unseen,  yet  ever  near 311 

O  happy  saints,  wlio  dwell  in  light 128 

O  happy  soul,  that  lives  on  high 392 

O  Holy  Saviour,  Friend  unseen 372 

O  Holy  Lord,  content  to  live 304 

O  house  of  Jacob,  come 95 

O  how  kindly  hast  Thou  led  me 224 

O  Israel,  to  thy  tents  repair 164 

O  .lesu,  Lord  of  heavenly  grace 263 

O  Jesus,  Saviour  of  the  lost 236 

O  King  of  earth,  and  aij',  qnd  sea., 229 

O  King  of  kings.  Viofore  whose  throne 6 

O  Lamp  of  Life  !  that  on  the  bloody  Cross 385 

O  Lord,  another  day  is  flown 273 

O  Lord,  how  good,  how  great  art  Thou 56 

O  Lord,  how  joyful' t  is  to  see 152 

O  Lord,  how  "little  do  we  know 399 

O  Lord,  I  would  delight  in  Thee 227 

O  Lord,  my  best  desire  fiilfil 205 

O  Lord,  our  languid  souls  insi>ire 483 

O  Lord,  Thy  heavenly  grace  impart 209 

O  Lord,  turn  not  Thy  face  away 239 

O  most  merciful 253 

O  Saviour!  is  Thy  promise  fled 193 

O  Saviour,  may  we  never  rest 59 

O  send  me  down  a  draught  of  love 396 

O  Spirit  of  the  living  God 194 

0  that  my  load  of  sin  were  gone 363 

O  Thou,  from  whom  all  goodness  flows 250 

O  Thou,  the  contrite  siiniers'  Friend 371 

O  Thoxi,  to  whose  all-searchiiig  sight 242 

O  Thou,  who  camest  from  above 203 

O  Tliou,  whose  tender  mercy  hears 357 

O  time  of  tranquil  joy  and  holy  feeling 330 

O  timely  happy,  timely  wise 200 

O  worship  the  King 20 


5 1  o  Ijidex  of  First  L  incs. 

Of  Thy  love  some  gracious  tokeu 338 

O  help  us,  Lord !  each  hour  of  need 249 

Oh  what,  if  we  are  Christ's 207 

On  God  the  race  of  man  depends 14 

On  the  mountain's  top  appearing 94 

One  there  is,  above  all  others 463 

Our  God,  our  help  in  ages  past 181 

Our  life  is  but  an  idle  play 388 

Our  praise  Thou  need'st  not ;  but  Thj'  love 19 

Palms  of  glorj-,  raiment  bright 130 

Pleasant  are  Thy  courts  above 146 

Plunged  in  a  gulf  of  darlc  despair 56 

Poor  child  of  sin  and  woe 342 

Pour  out  Thy  Spirit  from  on  high 484 

Praise,  my  soul,  the  King  of  heaven 23 

Praise,  O  praise  our  God  and  King 288 

Praise  the  Lord,  His  glories  show 24 

Praise  the  Lord  of  Heaven,  praise  Him  in  the  height ....  25 

Praise  to  God,  immortal  praise 289 

Praise  to  the  radiant  Source  of  bliss 143 

Prayer  is  the  soul's  sincere  desire 185 

Quiet,  Lord,  my  froward  heart 214 

Receive  him.  Earth,  unto  thine  harbouring  shrine 318 

Redeem'd  from  guilt,  redeem'd  from  fears 200 

Rejoice,  the  Lord  is  King S3 

Rejoice,  though  storms  assail  thee 429 

Rest,  weary  soul 439 

Return,  O  wanderer,  to  thy  home 343 

Ride  on,  ride  on  in  majesty 453 

Rise,  my  soul,  and  stretch  thy  wings 178 

Rock  of  Ages,  cleft  for  me 158 

Round  the  Lord  in  glory  seated ....  2 

Salvation  !  oh  !  the  joyful  sound 67 

Saviour,  I  lift  my  trembling  eyes 60 

Sa^^our,  when  in  dust  to  Thee 71 

Saviour,  who  didst  from  Hea^•'n  come  down 478 

Saviour,  who,  exalted  high 73 

Saviour,  who  Thy  flock  art  feeding 305 

See,  the  ransomed  millions  stand 97 

Shall  I  fear,  O  Earth,  thy  bosom 409 

Shepherd  of  Israel,  from  above S09 

Shine  on  our  souls,  eternal  God 223 

Since  Thou  liast  added  now,  O  God 262 

Sing  to  the  Lord,  our  might 332 

Sing  to  the  Lord  with  cheerful  voice 22 

Sleep  well,  my  dear ;  sleep  safe  and  free £03 

Sometimes  a  light  surprises 411 

Songs  of  praise  the  angels  sang 468 

Source  of  good,  whose  power  controls 3S4 

Sovereign  Ruler  of  the  skies 225 

Speed  Thy  servants.  Saviour,  speed  them 195 

Spirit !  leave  thine  house  of  clay 168 

Star  of  morn  and  even £41 

Sun  of  my  soul.  Thou  Saviour  dear 274 

Sleep,  baby,  sleep  !  what  ails  my  dear 301 

Sweet  is  the  Spirit's  strain  .     .  ' 345 


Index  of  First  Lines.  5 1 1 

PACK 

Sweet  is  tlie  work,  my  God,  iny  Kiug 331 

Sweet  place,  sweet  place  aloue 122 

That  day  of  wrath,  that  dreadful  day 460 

The  child  leans  on  its  parent's  breast 406 

The  billows  swell,  the  winds  are  high 420 

The  day,  O  Lord,  is  spent 269 

The  day  of  rest  once  more  comes  round 333 

The  foe  behind,  the  deep  before 67 

The  God  of  Abraham  praise 441 

The  Head  that  once  was  crown'd  with  thorns 87 

The  heaven  of  lieavens  cannot  contain 151 

The  Lord  is  King!  lift  up  your  voice 85 

The  Lord  Jehovah  reigns 8 

The  Lor.l  my  ]>asture  shall  prepare 231 

The  Lord  my  Shei:>herd  is 233 

The  Lord  of  Might  from  Sinai's  brow 96 

The  lovely  form  of  God's  own  Church 325 

The  race  that  long  in  darkness  pined 45 

The  roseate  hues  of  early  dawn 1^^ 

The  scene  around  me  disappears 41 

The  Son  of  God  goes  forth  to  war 132 

The  Son  of  God!  the  Lord  of  life 66 

Tlie  spacious  firmament  on  high I7 

The  spring-tide  hour 4x^ 

The  starry  firmament  on  high 1}^ 

The  strain  u])raise  of  joy  and  praise ^"^^ 

The  voice  tliat  breathed  o'er  Eden •''1' 

The  waves  of  trouble,  how  they  rise 1^2 

Tlie  winds  were  howling  o'er  the  deep ^J'.J 

The  world  can  neither  give  nor  take 41S 

Thee  we  adore,  eternal  Lord 4 

There  is  a  blessed  Home 1'^ 

There  is  a  book,  who  runs  may  read ^13 

There  is  a  calm  for  those  who  weep ^19 

There  is  a  dwelling-place  above -J-J 

There  is  a  fountain  fill'd  with  blood }^>y_ 

There  is  a  land  of  pure  delight J'^ 

There  is  a  pure  and  peaceful  Avave "•'4 

There  is  a  River,  deep  and  broad 11-^ 

Tliere  is  a  safe  and  secret  idace -4^ 

Tliere  is  a  Stream,  which  issues  forth J 16 

There  is  an  hour,  when  I  must  part 1^^ 

There's  not  a  bird,  with  lonely  nest 40o 

Tliev  talk'd  of  Jesus,  as  they  went ,'     ■,"     '     "  .,f 

Thou  art  gone  to  the  grave  :  but  we  will  not  deplore  thee  .     .  ^iv 

Tliou  art  gone  up  on  high ^^ 

Thou  God  of  Love  !  beneath  thy  sheltering  wings 31b 

Thou,  great  Creator,  art  possest 143 

Thou  Judge  of  quick  and  dead •^' 

Thou  the  cup  of  death  didst  drain •*2'^ 

Thou,  who  didst  stoop  below !^Y 

Tliou,  who  hast  call'd  us  by  Thy  word 4bl 

Thou,  Whose  Almighty  word 19< 

Though,  by  sorrows  overtaken ^^^ 

Though  rude  winds  usher  thee,  sweet  day 41 

Through  the  day  Thy  love  hath  spared  us -77 

Through  the  love  of  God  our  Saviour 43S 

Thus  saith  God  of  His  Anointed ^^ 


512  Index  of  First  Lines. 

Tliy  goodness,  Lord,  onr  souls  confess 16 

Thy  way,  not  mine,  0  Lord 212 

'Tis  come,  the  time  so  oft  foretold 86 

'Tis  Heaven  begun  below 148 

To  God,  ye  choir,  above,  begin 28 

To  Heaven  I  hft  mine  eye 246 

To  Him,  who  for  oiu-  sins  was  slain 71 

To-morrow,  Lord,  is  Thine 298 

To  Thee,  my  God,  whose  Presence  fills 420 

To  Thy  temple  I  repair 336 

Up  to  the  hills  I  lift  mine  eyes 245 

Up  to  the  throne  of  God  is  borne 475 

We  seek  a  rest  beyond  the  skies 180 

We  sing  His  love.  Who  once  was  slain 165 

We  sing  the  praise  of  Him  Who  died 53 

Weary  of  wandering  from  my  God '359 

Welcome,  sweet  day,  of  days  the  best 326 

We'll  sing,  in  spite  of  scorn 40 

We're  bound  for  yonder  land 428 

We've  no  abiding  city  here 390 

Wliat  are  these  in  bright  array 126 

What  sudden  blaze  of  song 34 

Whate'er  my  God  ordains  is  right 424 

When  all  Thy  mercies,  O  my  God 189 

When  at  mid-day  my  task  I  ply 266 

When  at  Thy  footstool.  Lord,  I  bend 237 

When  came  in  flesh  th'  Incarnate  Word 464 

Wlien  Christ  the  Lord  would  come  on  earth 144 

When  Christ,  with  all  His  graces  crown'd 414 

When  gathering  crowds  around  I  view 423 

When  God  of  old  came  down  from  Heaven 104 

When  languor  and  disease  invade 426 

When  I  survey  life's  varied  scene 210 

When  I  survey  the  wondrous  cross 53 

When  Israel,  hv  Divine  command 140 

When  Jesus  left  His  Father's  throne 307 

When  rising  from  the  bed  of  death 473 

When  shall  Thy  love  constrain 358 

When  Thou,  O  Lord,  in  flesh  wert  drest 451 

When  wounded  sore  the  stricken  heart 161 

Where  liigh  the  heavenly  Temple  stands 460 

While  shepherds  watched  their  flocks  by  night 37 

While  with  ceaseless  course  the  sun 296 

Why  comes  this  fragrance  on  the  summer  breeze 407 

Why  do  we  mourn  departing  friends 167 

Why  should  I  fear  the  darkest  hour 422 

Why  should  I,  in  vain  repining 421 

With  all  the  powers  my  poor  soul  hath 310 

With  tearful  eyes  I  look  around 346 

Worship,  honour,  glory,  blessing 253 

Ye  golden  lamps  of  heaA^en,  farewell 172 

Ye  servants  of  the  Lord 133 

Ye  sons  of  earth,  prepare  the  plough 117 

Yes,  God  is  good  ;  in  earth  and  sky 18 

Your  harps,  ye  trembling  saints 435 


R.  Clay,  Son,  4  Taylor,  Printers,  London. 


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