SIXTH SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY. H. H. M. LORD! have mercy when we strive Oh then have mercy! Lord! Oh then have mercy! Lord! SEVENTH SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY. R. H. WHEN Spring unlocks the flowers to paint the laughing soil; When Summer's balmy showers refresh the mower's toil; When Winter binds in frosty chains the fallow and the flood, In God the earth rejoiceth still, and owns his Maker good. The birds that wake the morning, and those that love the shade; The winds that sweep the mountain or lull the drowsy glade; The Sun that from his amber bower rejoiceth on his way, The Moon and Stars, their Master's name in silent pomp display. Shall Man, the lord of nature, expectant of the sky, The flowers of Spring may wither, the hope of Summer fade, The Autumn droop in Winter, the birds forsake the shade; The winds be lull'd-the Sun and Moon forget their old decree, But we in Nature's latest hour, O Lord! will cling to Thee. EIGHTH SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY. FIRST PSALM, OLD VERSION. THE man is bless'd that hath not lent To wicked men his ear, Nor led his life as sinners do, But in the law of God the Lord He shall be like the tree that is Whose fruit shall never fade nor fall, As for ungodly men, with them But as the chaff which by the wind Is driven to and fro. Therefore the wicked men shall not In judgement stand upright; E NINTH SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY. ADDISON. WHEN rising from the bed of death I see my Maker face to face, If yet, while pardon may be found My heart with inward horror shrinks When Thou, O Lord! shalt stand display'd In majesty severe, And sit in judgement on my soul, Oh! how shall I appear? But Thou hast told the troubled mind, The timely tribute of his tears Then view the sorrows of my Before it be too late, heart And hear my Saviour's dying groan To give those sorrows weight! For never shall my soul despair Thy pardon to procure, Who know Thine only Son hath died To make that pardon sure! TENTH SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY. R. H. JERUSALEM, Jerusalem! enthroned once on high, Thou favour'd home of God on earth, thou Heav'n below the sky! Now brought to bondage with thy sons, a curse and grief to see, Jerusalem, Jerusalem! our tears shall flow for thee. Oh! hadst thou known thy day of grace, and flock'd beneath the wing Of Him who call'd thee lovingly, thine own anointed King, Then had the tribes of all the world gone up thy pomp to see, And glory dwelt within thy gates, and all thy sons been free! "And who art thou that mournest me?" replied the ruin grey, "And fear'st not rather that thyself may prove a cast-away? I am a dried and abject branch, my place is giv'n to thee; But woe to every barren graft of thy wild olive-tree! "Our day of grace is sunk in night, our time of mercy spent, For heavy was my children's crime, and strange their punishment; Yet gaze not idly on our fall, but, sinner, warned be, Who spared not His chosen seed may send His wrath on thee! |