Puslapio vaizdai

We'll mention to his praise The triumphs of his death; And sing his everlasting grace, Ev'n with our latest breath.

433. God the Help of Israel.

O 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 thy arm alone,

And our defence is sure.

C. M.

Thou turnest man, O Lord, to dust,
Of which he first was made,

And when thou speak'st the word ' Return,' "Tis instantly obey'd

But "I am with you," saith the Lord,


My saints shall safe abide,

"Nor will I e'er forsake my own,

"For whom the Saviour died."

Through ev'ry scene of life and death
Thy promise is our trust,
And this shall be our children's song
When we are cold in dust:

O God, our help in ages past,

Our hope for years to come,

Be thou our guard while life shall last,
And our eternal home.

434. Opening a Place of Worship. L. M.

JESUS, where'er thy people meet

There they behold thy mercy seat,
Where'er they seek thee thou art found,
And ev'ry place is hallow'd ground.

For thou, within no walls confin'd,
Inhabitest the humble mind;

Such ever bring thee where they come,
And going take thee to their home.

Dear Shepherd of thy chosen few,
Thy former mercies here renew,
Here to our waiting hearts proclaim
The sweetness of thy saving name.

Here may we prove the pow'r 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,
Let Sion stretch her cords abroad;
Come then, and fill that wider space,
And bless us with a large increase.

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.

435. Zion's Resting Place. ZION's the resting place of God, In Zion he'll reside;

C. M.

Here all his stately steps are seen,
And mercies are display'd.

From yonder throne, Jehovah speaks,
In accents all divine;

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"Here is my rest, and here I'll dwell,
Here shall my glories shine."
Here will I meet my chosen race,
Here will I feast my saints;
Here will I bless immortal souls,
And banish all complaints.

Here is pure milk, and wine, and oil,
And here is living bread;

All the rich fruits of heav'nly love,
A table richly spread.

Lord, may we all who here are mét,
Of thy provision taste;
May ev'ry spirit sweetly feed,
On this divine repast.

May we digest celestial food,
Flourish and grow in grace;
Gratefully own thy lib'ral hand,
And love thy dwelling place.
436. Longings for Soul-Settlement.
O FOR a spirit stay'd on God,
And bound for things above;
Sweetly compos'd in pard'ning blood,
And all dissolv'd in love.

C. M.

But how my foolish, wav'ring mind,
Roves from Immanuel's breast;

Leaves a bright heav'n and God behind,
Yet-vainly seeks for rest.

Sometimes it moves, and sweetly soars,
And mounts the hills of light;
The realms of blessedness explores,
And feels a pure delight.

Again it leaves celestial good,
And nought but glooms appear;
Again it flies to Calv'ry's blood,
To drown its ev'ry fear.

Again 'tis heal'd of ev'ry smart,
And beats for things divine;
Lord, take this strange mysterious heart,
And sink it deep in thine.

There may it lie, entomb'd in love,

Absorb'd in conq'ring grace; From thy dear bosom never rove, But dwell in endless peace.

437. Christ's Care for his People. 104th.

YE lambs of Christ's fold,

Ye weaklings in faith,

Who long to lay hold

On life by his death;

Who fain would believe him,

And in your best room

Would gladly receive him,

But fear to


Remember one thing-
(O may it sink deep!)
Our Shepherd and King
Cares much for his sheep.
To trust him endeavour;
The work is his own;
He makes the believer,
And gives him his crown.
Those feeble desires,
Those wishes so weak,
"Tis Jesus inspires,

And bids you still seek.
His Spirit will cherish
The life he first gave;
You never shall perish,
If Jesus can save.
Proud lions that boast,
When lusty and young,
Soon find, to their cost,
Self-confidence wrong,
Tormented with hunger,

They feel their strength vain; For famine is stronger,

And gnaws them with pain.

But lambs are preserv'd,

Tho' helpless in kind: When lions are starv'd,

They nourishment find, Their Shepherd upholds them,

When faint in his arms; And feeds them, and holds them, And guards them from harms.

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