1 The Saviour, when to heav'n he rose, In splendid triumph o'er his foes, Scatter'd his gifts on men below, And wide his royal bounties flow.
2 Hence sprang the Apostle's honor'd name, Sacred beyond heroic fame;
Hence dictates the Prophetic sage, And hence the evangelic page.
3 In lower forms to bless our eyes, Pastors from hence and teachers rise; Who, though with feebler rays they shine, Still mark a long extended line.
4 So shall the bright succession run Through all the courses of the sun; Whilst unborn churches by their care, Shall rise and flourish large and fair.
5 Head of the Church! their hearts shall know The spring whence all their blessings flow; Pastors and people shout thy praise, Through the long round of endless days.
THANKSGIVING DAY.
1 Praise to God, immortal praise, For the love that crowns our days; Bounteous source of every joy, Let thy praise our tongues employ. 2 All the blessings of the fields, All the stores the garden yields, Flocks that whiten all the plain, Yellow sheaves of ripen'd grain,
3 Clouds that drop their fatt'ning dews, Suns that genial warmth diffuse, All the plenty summer pours, Autumn's rich o'erflowing stores,
4 These to thee our God we owe, Source whence all our blessings flow; And for these our souls shall raise Grateful vows and solemn praise. 5 Yet should rising whirlwinds tear From its stem the rip'ning ear; Though the sick'ning flock should fall, And the herd desert the stall;
6 Should thy alter'd hand restrain Th' early and the latter rain; Blast each op'ning bud of joy, And the rising year destroy; 7 Still to thee our souls shall raise Grateful vows and solemn praise; And when every blessing's flown, Love thee for thyself alone.
1 Praise to thee, thou great Creator! Praise be thine from every tongue; Join, my soul, with every creature, Join the universal song.
2 Father! Source of all compassion! Pure, unbounded grace is thine: Hail the God of our salvation! Praise him for his love divine.
3 For ten thousand blessings given, For the hope of future joy,.
Sound his praise through earth and heaven, Sound Jehovah's praise on high.
4 Joyfully on earth adore him,
Till in heaven our song we raise; There enraptur'd fall before him, Lost in wonder, love, and praise.
1 My God, thy boundless love I praise; How bright on high its glories blaze! How sweetly bloom below!
It streams from thy eternal throne; Through heav'n its joys forever run, And o'er the earth they flow.
2 'Tis love that paints the purple morn, And bids the clouds, in air upborne, Their genial drops distil;
every vernal beam it glows;
It breathes in every gale that blows, And glides in ev'ry rill.
3 It robes in cheerful green the ground, And pours its flow'ry beauties round, Whose sweets perfume the gale; Its bounties richly spread the plain, The blushing fruit, the golden grain, And smile on every vale.
4 Then let the love which makes me blest, With cheerful praise inspire my breast, And ardent gratitude;
And all my thoughts and passions tend, To thee my Father and my friend, My soul's eternal good.
1 Dread Jehovah! God of nations, From thy temple in the skies, Hear thy people's supplications; Now for their deliv'rance rise: Lo! with deep contrition turning, Humbly at thy feet we bend;" Fasting, praying, weeping, mourning, Hear us, spare us, and defend.
2 Though our sins our hearts confounding, Long and loud for vengeance call, Thou hast mercy more abounding; Jesus' blood can cleanse them all: Let that mercy veil transgression, Let that blood our guilt efface; Save thy people from oppression, Save from spoil thy holy place. 3 Hear, O God, the vows we render; With our hosts to battle go; Shield the head of each defender, And confound the haughty foe: So when ceas'd the battle's raging, Thine shall be the victor's praise; And in holy bonds engaging, We will serve thee all our days.
CHARITY SERMONS.
1 Jesus my Lord, how rich thy grace! Thy bounties how complete!
How shall I count the matchless sum, Or pay the mighty debt.
2 High on a throne of radiant light, Dost thou exalted shine; What can my poverty bestow, When all the worlds are thine?
2 But thou hast brethren here below, The partners of thy grace, And wilt confess their humble names Before thy Father's face.
4 In them thou may'st be cloth'd and fed, And visited and cheer'd;
And in their accents of distress, Thy suppliant voice is heard.
5 Thy face with rev'rence and with love, We in thy poor would see;
O may we rather beg our bread, Than keep it back from thee.
1 Lord, thy care for all providing
Warni'd thy faithful prophet's tongue; Who the lot of all deciding,
Thus to ancient Israel sung.
2 When thy harvest yields thee pleasure, Thou the golden sheaf shalt bind; To the poor belongs the treasure, Of the scatter'd ear behind.
These thy God ordains to bless The widow and the fatherless.
3 When thine olive plants increasing Pour their plenty o'er thy plain,
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