God with us. N. L. FROTHINGHAM. | 2 Not now on Zion's height alone
1 O GOD, whose presence glows in all Within, around us, and above!
Thy word we bless, thy name we call, Whose word is Truth, whose name is Love.
2 That truth be with the heart believed, Of all who seek this sacred place; With power proclaimed, in peace re- ceived,
Our spirits' light, thy Spirit's grace. 3 That love its holy influence pour, To keep us meek and make us free, And throw its binding blessing more Round each with all, and all with thee.
4 Send down its angel to our side;
Send in its calm upon the breast: For we would know no other guide, And we can need no other rest. 43.
1 0 THOU to whom, in ancient time, The lyre of Hebrew bards was strung, Whom kings adored in song sublime, And prophets praised with glowing tongue!
Thy favored worshipper may dwell; Nor where, at sultry noon, thy Son Sat weary by the patriarch's well
3 From every place below the skies, The grateful song, the fervent prayer· The incense of the heart-may rise To heaven, and find acceptance there.
4 O Thou to whom, in ancient time, The lyre of prophet-bards was strung!- To thee, at last, in every clime, Shall temples rise, and praise be sung.
Subjection to our Father.
1 ETERNAL Source of life and thought, Be all beneath thyself forgot: Whilst thee, great Parent-mind, we own, In prostrate homage round thy throne. 2 Whilst in themselves our souls survey Of thee some faint reflected ray, They, wondering, to their Father rise: His power how vast! his thoughts how wise!
1 BLEST hour, when mortal man retires To hold communion with his God, To send to heaven his warm desires, And listen to the sacred word.
2 Blest hour, when earthly cares resign Their empire o'er his anxious breast; While, all around, the calm divine Proclaims the holy day of rest.
3 Blest hour, when God himself draws nigh,
Well pleased his people's voice to hear, To hush the penitential sigh, And wipe away the mourner's tear.
4 Blest hour! for, where the Lord resorts, Foretastes of future bliss are given, And mortals find his earthly courts The house of God, the gate of heaven.
1 O LORD! where'er thy people meet, There they behold thy mercy-seat; Where'er they seek thee, thou art found, And every place is hallowed ground. 2 For thou, within no walls confined, Inhabitest the humble mind: Such ever bring thee where they come, And, going, take thee to their home.
3 With heavenly grace our souls endue; Thy former mercies here renew; Here to our waiting hearts proclaim The sweetness of thy saving name 4 Here may we prove the power To strengthen faith and sweeten care; To teach our faint desires to rise, And bring all heaven before our eyes.
BE thou, O God! exalted high; And, as thy glory fills the sky, So let it be on earth displayed, Till thou art here, as there, obeyed.
1 As every day, thy mercy spares, Will bring its trials or its cares, O Father! till my life shall end, Be thou my counsellor and friend; Teach me thy statutes all divine, And let thy will be always mine.
2 When each day's scenes and labors close, And wearied nature seeks repose, With pardoning mercy, richly blest, Guard me, my Father, while I rest; And, as each morning sun shall rise, Oh lead me onward to the skies! 3 And at my life's last setting sun, My conflicts o'er, my labors done, Father, thine heavenly radiance shed, To cheer and bless my dying bed; And from death's gloom my spirit raise, To see thy face and sing thy praise. 49. Spiritual Needs. 1 I WANT the spirit of power within, Of love and of a healthful mind, Of power to conquer every sin, Of love to God and all mankind;
Of health that pain and death defies, Most vigorous when the body dies.
2 Oh that the Comforter would come, Nor visit as a transient guest, But fix in me his constant home, And keep possession of my breast ; And make my soul his loved abode, The temple of indwelling God!
"Remember that thou keep holy the Sabbath day." EPISCOPAL COL
1 GREAT God, this sacred day of thine, Demands the soul's collected powers: With joy to thee we now resign These solemn, consecrated hours: O may our souls, adoring, own The grace that calls us to thy throne 2 All-seeing God, thy piercing eye Can every secret thought explore: May worldly cares our bosoms fly, And, where thou art, intrude no more! Oh may thy grace our spirits move, And fix our minds on things above!
3 Thy Spirit's powerful aid impart; And bid thy words, with life divine, Engage the ear, and warm the heart: Then shall the day indeed be thine; Our souls shall then adoring own The grace that calls us to thy throne.
The Gate of Heaven. E. H. CHAPIN. 1 OUR Father, -God! not face to face May mortal sense commune with thee, Nor lift the curtains of that place Where dwells thy secret majesty. Yet wheresoe'er our spirits bend In reverent faith and humble prayer, Thy promised blessing will descend, And we shall find thy spirit there.
2 Lord, be the spot, where now we meet, An open gateway into heaven; Here may we sit at Jesus' feet, And feel our deepest sins forgiven. Here may desponding care look up, And sorrow lay its burden down; Or learn of him to drink the cup, To bear the cross, and win the crown.
1 SAFELY through another week God has brought us on our way: Let us now a blessing seek,
Waiting in his courts to-day, Day of all the week the best, Emblem of eternal rest.
2 While we seek supplies of grace, Through the dear Redeemer's name, Show thy reconciling face;
Take away our sin and shame: From our worldly cares set free, May we rest this day in thee!
3 Here we come thy name to praise; Let us feel thy presence near; May thy glory meet our eyes,
While we in thy house appear! Here afford us, Lord, a taste Of our everlasting feast.
4 May the gospel's joyful sound
Conquer sinners, comfort saints; Make the fruits of grace abound,
Bring relief from all complaints! Thus let all our sabbaths prove, Till we join the Church above.
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