PART II.

HYMN CXIV.

ALL praise to Thee in light arrayed,
Who light thy dwelling-place hast made;
A boundless ocean of bright beams
From thine all-glorious Godhead streams.

Blest Jesus, Thou, on heaven intent,
Whole nights hast in devotion spent ;
While I, frail creature, soon am tired,
And all my zeal is soon expired.

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 own sacrifice;
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.

At the Consecration of a Church.

HYMN CXV.

LORD, whose temple once did glisten
With a monarch's rich supplies,
To our humbler praises listen,
Bless our willing sacrifice:
Be our votive offering given
To the Father and the Son,
Sweeter in the sight of heaven
Than the scents of Lebanon.

Clouds and darkness veil'd thy dwelling
In thine earthly house of old,
Though the hymn of praise was swelling
'Mid the pomp of Ophir's gold:
Here thy love our hearts shall brighten,
Hence ye earth-born clouds away!
Here thy Spirit shall enlighten,
Shining to the perfect day!

Hither on the Sabbath-morning,

Guide us on our Church-way-path;
Here, O Lord, in life's first dawning,
Sprinkle every child of wrath;
Here around thine altar bending,

Feed us with the living bread!
Here, to wait their Lord's descending,
Hallow'd earth, receive the dead!

When our Israel's sore transgression
Stops the windows of the sky,
When we sink beneath oppression,

When we see our thousands die;
Father, when we here adore Thee

In thy house, our prayer receive : When we spread our hands before Thee, Here behold us, and forgive!

After Harvest.

HYMN CXVI.

COME, ye thankful people, come,
Raise the song of Harvest-home!
All is safely gather'd in,

Ere the winter storms begin:
God our Maker doth provide
For 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 his 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

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!

For Times of Sorrow.

HYMN CXVII.

O LET him whose sorrow
No relief can find,
Trust in God, and borrow

Ease for heart and mind.

Where the mourner, weeping,
Sheds the secret tear,
God his watch is keeping,
Though none else is near.

God will never leave us,

All our wants He knows,
Feels the pains that grieve us,
Sees our cares and woes:
When in grief we languish,
He will dry the tear,
Who his children's anguish
Soothes with succour near.

All our woe and sadness
In this world below,
Balance not the gladness
We in heav'n shall know,
When our gracious Saviour
In the realms above,
Crowns us with his favour,
Fills us with his love.

Judgment Hymn.

PART I.

HYMN CXVIII.

DAY of anger, that dread day Shall the sign in Heav'n display, And the earth in ashes lay.