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With fettered steps we left our pleasant land, Envying our fathers in their peaceful graves. The stranger's bread with bitter tears we steep,

And when our weary eyes should sink to sleep,

In the mute midnight we steal forth to weep, Where the pale willows shade Euphrates'

waves.

The born in sorrow shall bring forth in joy; Thy mercy, Lord, shall lead thy children home;

He that went forth a tender prattling boy
Yet, ere he die, to Salem's streets shall

come;

And Canaan's vines for us their fruit shall bear,

And Hermon's bees their honeyed stores prepare,

And we shall kneel again in thankful prayer, Where o'er the cherub-seated God full

blazed the irradiate throne.

HENRY HART MILMAN, D. D.

PRAISE THE ALMIGHTY.

"Lobe den Herren, den mächtigen König der Ehren." JOACHIM NEANDER was born at Bremen, in 1640. He became master of the Grammar School at Düsseldorf, and preached to others than his pupils with so much zeal as to provoke opposition. He was obliged to leave the city, and lived for a time in a cave, where he composed some of his hymns. In 1679 he was called to Bremen, and became preacher at St. Martin's Church He died May 31, 1680. He was the greates! hymn-writer of the German Reformed Church, full of spiritual depth and unction. The following is a very popular hymn, and was a special favorite of Friedrich Wilhelm III., of Prussia.

PRAISE the Almighty, the King of a glory unbounded!

Praise, O my spirit, with choirs of angels surrounded!

Join the full throng;

Wake, harp and psalter and song;
High be the thanksgiving sounded!

Praise the Almighty, o'er all things who regally reigneth! —

Who, as on wings of an eagle, uplifteth, sustaineth,

Who giveth food,

All gladness and safety and good : Thanks for what was, - what remaineth.

Praise the Almighty, who skilfully for thee provided;

Who lent thee thy health and strength, and then graciously guided!

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WILLIAM HENRY HURLBUT, a highly educated and versatile journalist, was born in Charleston, S. C., July 3, 1827. He graduated at Harvard University in 1847, and afterwards studied at Berlin, Rome, and Paris. He travelled extensively. WE will not weep; for God is standing by us, And tears will blind us to the blessed sight: We will not doubt; if darkness still doth try us, Our souls have promise of serenest light.

We will not faint; if heavy burdens bind us, They press no harder than our souls can

bear,

The thorniest way is lying still behind us, We shall be braver for the past despair. Oh, not in doubt shall be our journey's ending: Sin with its fears shall leave us at the last.-— All its best hopes in glad fulfilment blending, Life shall be with us when the death is

past.

Help us, O Father! when the world is pressing On our frail hearts, that faint without their friend,

Help us, O Father! let thy constant blessing Strengthen our weakness till the joyful end.

WILLIAM HENRY HURLBUT.

PRAISE TO GOD.

PSALM 1XV.

PRAISE, Lord, for thee in Zion waits;
Prayer shall besiege thy temple gates;
All flesh shall to thy throne repair,
And find, through Christ, salvation there.

GOD'S PRAISE.

Our spirits faint; our sins prevail; Leave not our trembling hearts to fail: O thou that hearest prayer, descend, And still be found the sinner's friend.

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When in the slippery paths of youth
With heedless steps I ran,
Thine arm unseen conveyed me safe,
And led me up to man.

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Through hidden dangers, toils, and death, It gently cleared my way,

And through the pleasing snares of vice,
More to be feared than they.

When worn with sickness, oft hast thou
With health renewed 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 heart, O Lord,
Thy mercy shall adore.

Through all eternity to thee
A joyful song I'll raise;
For oh, eternity's too short
To utter all thy praise!

1712.

JOSEPH ADDISON.

THE TRAVELLER'S HYMN OF GRATITUDE.

Speaking of his eleventh or twelfth year, Robert Burns said that the earliest compositions that he took pleasure in were the "Vision of Mirza" and the following hymn He specially liked the first half of the seventh stanza The hymn, which is from the Spectator, Number 489, Sept. 20, 1712, appears in hymn-books in a modified form.

How are thy servants blest, O Lord!
How sure is their defence!
Eternal Wisdom is their guide,
Their help, Omnipotence.

In foreign lands and lands remote,
Supported by thy care.

Through burning climes I passed unhurt,
And breathed in tainted air.

Thy mercy sweetened every soil,
Made every region please;
The hoary Alpine hills it warmed,
And smoothed the Tyrrhene seas.

Think, O my soul, devoutly think,
How, with affrighted eyes,
Thou sawest the wide-extended deep
In all its horrors rise:

Confusion dwelt in every face,

And fear in every heart,

When waves on waves, and gulfs in gulfs,
O'ercame the pilot's art.

Yet then from all my griefs, O Lord,
Thy mercy set me free;

Whilst in the confidence of prayer
My soul took hold on thee.

For though in dreadful whirls we hung
High on the broken wave,

I knew thou wert not slow to hear,
Nor impotent to save.

The storm was laid, the winds retired,
Obedient to thy will;

The sea, that roared at thy command,
At thy command was still.

In midst of dangers, fears, and deaths,
Thy goodness I'll adore ;

And praise thee for thy mercies past,

And humbly hope for more.

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God's praises sound, As, in his sight, With sweet delight, You do abound.

All nations of the earth,

Extol the world's great King! With melody and mirth His glorious praises sing; For he still reigns, And will bring low The proudest foe That him disdains.

Sing forth Jehovah's praise,
Ye saints that on him call!
Magnify him always,
His holy churches all!
In him rejoice,

And there proclaim
His holy name
With sounding voice.

My soul, bear thou thy part:
Triumph in God above!
With a well-tuned heart,

Sing thou the songs of love!
Thou art his own,
Whose precious blood,
Shed for thy good,
His love made known.

He did in love begin

Renewing thee by grace,
Forgiving all thy sin,

Showed thee his pleased face;
He did thee heal

By his own merit.
And by his spirit
He did thee seal.

In saddest thoughts and grief, In sickness, fears, and pain,

I cried for his relief,

And did not cry in vain.
He heard with speed,
And still I found
Mercy abound
In time of need.

Let not his praises grow

On prosperous heights alone; But in the vales below

Let his great love be known.
Let no distress

Curb and control
My winged soul,

And praise suppress.

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