THY blood, O Christ, hath made our peace;
Not only that, whereby
The ground of Calvary was stained,
When Thou wert hung on high;
Nor only that, which in thine hour
Distilled upon thy trembling frame
In dark Gethsemane :
But that shed from Thee, when at first
In childhood Thou didst deign
Thus to endure for sinful man
The legal rite of pain.
And as with suffering and with Thee
Our yearly course begins;
So teach us to renounce the flesh
And put away our sins;
That in the Israel of thy Church
We may not lose our part :
In spirit and in body pure,
And circumcised in heart.
THOU that art the Father's Word,
Thou that art the Lamb of God,
Thou that art the Virgin's Son,
Thou that savest souls undone,
Sacred sacrifice for sin,
Fount of piety within,
Hail, Lord Jesus.
Thou to whom thine angels raise
Quiring songs of sweetest praise,
Thou that art the flower and fruit,
Virgin-born from Jesse's root,
Shedding holy peace abroad,
Perfect man and perfect God,
Hail, Lord Jesus.
Thou that art the door of heaven,
Living bread in mercy given,
Brightness of the Father's face,
Everlasting Prince of Peace,
Precious pearl beyond all price,
Brightest star in all the skies,
Hail, Lord Jesus.
King and Spouse of holy hearts,
Fount of love that ne'er departs,
Sweetest life, and brightest day,
Truest truth, and surest way
That leads onward to the blest
Sabbath of eternal rest,
First Sunday after Epiphany.
THOU who art enthroned above,
Thou in whom we live and move,
Good it is with joyful tongue
To resound thy praise in song:
When the morning paints the skies,
When the sparkling stars arise,
All thy favours to rehearse,
And give thanks in grateful verse.
Sweet the day of sacred rest,
When devotion fires the breast,
When we dwell within thy house,
Hear thy gospel, pay our vows,
Songs to heaven's high mansion raise,
Fill thy courts with songs of praise,
And in psalms and hymns proclaim
Honours to thy glorious name.
From thy works our joys arise,
O Thou only good and wise;
Who thy wonders can express?
All thy thoughts are fathomless :
Warm our hearts with sacred fire,
And with songs of praise inspire;
All our powers with all their might
Ever in thy praise unite.
PSALM CXI.—Ver. 1, 2, 3. 10.
PRAISE ye the Lord! our God to praise
My soul her utmost powers shall raise;
With private friends, and in the throng
Of saints, his praise shall be my song.
His works, for greatness though renown'd,
His wondrous works with ease are found
By those who seek for them aright,
And in the pious search delight.
His works are all of matchless fame,
And universal glory claim;
His truth confirm'd through ages past
Shall to eternal ages
last.
Who wisdom's sacred prize would win
Must with the fear of God begin;
Immortal praise and heav'nly skill
Have they, who know and do his will.
Second Sunday after Epiphany.
VOUCHSAFE thy gracious presence, Lord,
Dispose us now to hear thy word;
In meekness grant us to receive,
And with the heart its truths believe:
Thus, Lord, thy waiting servants bless,
And crown thy gospel with success.
To us that sacred word apply,
With sovereign power and energy;
And cause us in thy faith and fear,
To practise all that we shall hear
Thus, Lord, thy waiting servants bless,
And crown thy gospel with success.
Father, in us thy Son reveal,
Teach us to know and do thy will:
Thy saving strength and love display ;
And guide us to the realms of day:
Thus, Lord, thy waiting servants bless,
And crown thy gospel with success.
ALL we, like wandering sheep, have stray'd From fold, from pasture, and from stall: Our guilt on Innocence was laid;
He bore the burden of us all.
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