3 Not all by worldly men possess'd,
Nor all the joys our senses know,
Could make me so divinely blest,
Or raise my cheerful passions so.
4 My life itself, without thy love,
No real pleasure could afford ;
"Twould but a tiresome burden prove,
If I were banish'd from the Lord.
5 Amidst the wakeful hours of night,
When busy cares afflict my head,
One thought of thee gives new delight,
And adds refreshment to my bed.
6 I'll lift my hands, I'll raise my voice,
While I have breath to pray or praise;
This work shall make my heart rejoice,
And fill the remnant of my days.
Homage and Devotion.
W ITH sacred joy we lift our eyes
To those bright realms above,
That glorious temple in the skies,
Where dwells eternal love.
2 Before the awful throne we bow
Of heaven's almighty King:
Here we present the solemn vow,
And hymns of praise we sing.
3 Thee we attore; and, Lord! to thee
Our filial duty pay:
Thy service, unconstrain'd and free,
Conducts to endless day.
4 While in thy house of pray'r we kneel
With trust and holy fear,
Thy mercy and thy truth reveal,
And lend a gracious ear.
5 With fervour teach our hearts to pray,
And tune our lips to sing;
Nor from thy presence cast away
The sacrifice we bring.
HYMN 32. L. M.
Humble Worship.
REAT King of kings, eternal God,
Shall mortal creatures dare to raise,
Their songs to thy supreme abode,
And join with angels in thy praise?
2 Man, O how far remov'd below!
Wrapt in the shades of gloomy night;
His brightest days can only show
A few faint streaks of distant light.
3 But see! The bright, the morning star,
Rising shall chase the shades away;
His beams, resplendent from afar,
Promise a sweet immortal day.
4 To him our longing eyes we raise,
Our guide to Thee, the Great Unknown;
Through him, O may our humble praise
Accepted rise before thy throne.
HYMN 33. L. M.
The sacrifice of the Heart.
WHEN, as returns this solemn day,
Man comes to meet his maker, God,
What rites, what honours shall he pay ?
How spread his sovereign's praise abroad?
2 From marble domes and gilded spires
Shall curling clouds of incense rise?
And gems, and gold, and garlands deck
The costly pomp of sacrifice?
3 Vain, sinful man! creation's Lord
Thy golden off'rings well may spare :
But give thy heart, and thou shalt find,
Here dwells a God who heareth pray'r.
HYMN 34. L. M.
The Christian Sabbath.
GAIN our weekly labours end,
And we the sabbath's call attend :
Improve, my soul, the sacred rest,
And learn for ever to be blest.
2 This day may our devotions rise
To heav'n a grateful sacrifice;
May heav'n that divine bestow,
peace
Which none but they who feel it know.
3 This holy calm within the breast,
Prepares for that eternal rest
Which for the sons of God remains,
The end of cares, and toils, and pains.
4 In varied scenes, both old and new,
With joy, great God! thy works we view ;
In praise recal thy mercies past,
In hope thy future mercies taste.
5 In holy duties, let the day,
In holy pleasures, pass away;
How sweet this sabbath thus to spend
In hope of that which ne'er shall end.
HYMN 35. C. M.
The Sabbath of the Soul.
LEEP, to-day, tormenting cares,
Of earth and folly born!
Ye shall not dim the light that streams
From this celestial morn.
2 To-morrow will be time enough
To feel your harsh control;
Ye shall not violate, this day,
The sabbath of my soul,
3 Sleep, forever, guilty thoughts!
Let fires of vengeance die ;
And, purg'd from sin, may I behold
A God of purity!
HYMN 36. C. M.
A Lord's day Hymn.
HIS is the day the Lord of life
Did from the dead arise;
My thoughts, exalt the lofty theme,
In anthems to the skies.
2 Let no vain cares divert my mind
From this celestial road;
Nor all the honours of the earth
Detain my soul from God.
3 Think of the splendours of that place,
The joys that are on high;
Nor meanly rest contented here,
With worlds beneath the sky.
4 Heav'n is the birth-place of the saints,
To heav'n their souls ascend;
Th' Almighty owns his fav'rite race,
As Father and as Friend.
5 O may these lovely titles prove
My comfort and defence,
When the sick couch shall be my
And death shall call me bence.
A Hymn for the Lord's day.
WEET is the work, my God! my King!
To praise thy name, give thanks and sing;
To show thy love by morning light,
And talk of all thy truth at night.
2 Sweet is the day of sacred rest;
No mortal care shall seize my breast:
My heart shall triumph in the Lord,
And bless his works, and bless his word.
3 And I shall share a glorious part,
When grace hath well refin'd my heart,
When doubts and fears no more remain,
To break my inward peace again.
4 Then shall I see, and hear, and know,
All I desir'd or wish'd below:
And ev'ry pow'r find sweet employ
In the eternal world of joy.
HYMN 38. C. M.
The Lord's day morning.
AGAIN the Lord of life and light
Awakes the kindling ray;
Unseals the eyelids of the morn,
And pours increasing day.
2 O what a night was that, which wrapt
The heathen world in gloom!
O what a sun which broke this day,
Triumphant from the tomb!
3 This day be grateful homage paid,
And loud hosannas sung;
Let gladness dwell in ev'ry heart,
And praise on ev'ry tongue.
4 Ten thousand diff'ring lips still join
To hail this welcome morn;
Which scatters blessings from its wings
To nations yet unborn.
AIL, happy morn! whose early ray
Beheld the Saviour rise;
Welcome again, auspicious day!
To our rejoicing eyes.
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