Hark! bark! to God the chorus breaks,
From every host, from every gem; But one alone the Saviour speaks,
It is the Star of Bethlehem. Once on the raging seas I rode,
The storm was loud, -the night was dark, The ocean yawn'd, -and rudely blow'd
The wind that toss'd my foundering bark. Deep horror then my vitals froze,
Death-struck, I ceas'd the tide to stem ; When suddenly a star arose,
It was the star of Bethlehem. It was my guide, my light, my all,
It bade my dark forebodings cease; And through the storm, and danger's thrall,
It led me to the port of peace. Now safely moor’d—my perils o'er,
I'll sing, first in night's diadem, For ever and for evermore,
The Star !-- The Star of Betblehem!
![[ocr errors][ocr errors][merged small]](https://books.google.mk/books/content?id=2IggAAAAMAAJ&output=html_text&pg=PA56&img=1&zoom=3&hl=en&q=%22Rising+or+falling+still+advance+his+praise.+His+praise,+ye+Winds,+that+from+four+quarters+blow.+Breathe+soft+or+loud%3B%22&cds=1&sig=ACfU3U3rmQsngc3q6DVku7Fd1wGaPyZmmQ&edge=0&edge=stretch&ci=926,571,91,379)
![[ocr errors]](https://books.google.mk/books/content?id=2IggAAAAMAAJ&output=html_text&pg=PA56&img=1&zoom=3&hl=en&q=%22Rising+or+falling+still+advance+his+praise.+His+praise,+ye+Winds,+that+from+four+quarters+blow.+Breathe+soft+or+loud%3B%22&cds=1&sig=ACfU3U3rmQsngc3q6DVku7Fd1wGaPyZmmQ&edge=0&edge=stretch&ci=26,927,6,31)
RETROSPECTION. Thus far on Life's perplexing path,
Thus far the Lord our steps hath led, Safe from the world's pursuing wrath,
Unbarın’d though floods hung o'er our head ; Here then we pause, look back, adore, Like ransom'd Israel from the shore. Strangers and pilgrims here below,
As all our fathers in heir day,
![[graphic]](https://books.google.mk/books/content?id=2IggAAAAMAAJ&output=html_text&pg=PA57&img=1&zoom=3&hl=en&q=%22Rising+or+falling+still+advance+his+praise.+His+praise,+ye+Winds,+that+from+four+quarters+blow.+Breathe+soft+or+loud%3B%22&cds=1&sig=ACfU3U19Cb7C0oWKc0iCJaly8H6rZabM3w&edge=0&edge=stretch&ci=590,0,413,1314)
We to a Land of Promise go,
Lord! by thine own appointed way ; Still guide, illumine, cheer our flight, In cloud by day, in fire by night. Protect us through this wilderness
From serpent plague, and hostile rage ; With bread from heaven our table bless, With living streams our thirst assuage ; Nor let our rebel hearts repine, Or follow any voice but Thine. Thy righteous laws to us proclaim,
But not from Sinai's top alone; Hid in the rock-clift, be thy name,
Thy pow'r, and all thy goodness shown ; And may we never bow the knee To any other gods but Thee. Thy presence with us, move or rest ;
- And as the eagle, o'er her brood, Flatters her pinions, stirs the nest;
Covers, defends, provides them food, Bears on her wings, instructs to Ay; - Thus, thus prepare us for the sky. When we have number'd all our years,
And stand at length on Jordan's brink, Though the flesh fail with human fears,
Oh! let not then the spirit shrink; But strong in faith, and hope, and love, Plunge through the stream, to rise above.
MONTGOMERY.
![[merged small][merged small][ocr errors]](https://books.google.mk/books/content?id=2IggAAAAMAAJ&output=html_text&pg=PA57&img=1&zoom=3&hl=en&q=%22Rising+or+falling+still+advance+his+praise.+His+praise,+ye+Winds,+that+from+four+quarters+blow.+Breathe+soft+or+loud%3B%22&cds=1&sig=ACfU3U19Cb7C0oWKc0iCJaly8H6rZabM3w&edge=0&edge=stretch&ci=-12,591,78,298)
LOOKING UPWARDS IN A STORM. God of my life, to thee I call, Afflicted at thy feet I fall ;
When the great water-foods prevail, Leave not my trembling heart to fail ! Friend of the friendless and the faint! Where should I lodge my deep complaint ? Where but with thee, whose open door Invites the helpless and the poor? Did ever mourner plead with thee, And thou refuse that mourner's plea ? Does not that word still fix'd remain, That none shall seek thy face in vain ? That were a grief I could not bear, Didst thou not hear and answer pray'r; But a pray'r-hearing, answ'ring God, Supports me under ev'ry load. Fair is the lot that's cast for me; I have an advocate with thee; They, whom the world caresses most, Have no such privilege to boast. Poor though I am, despis'd, forgot, Yet God, my God, forgets me not; And he is safe, and must succeed, For whom the Lord 'vouchsafes to plead.
![[ocr errors][ocr errors]](https://books.google.mk/books/content?id=2IggAAAAMAAJ&output=html_text&pg=PA58&img=1&zoom=3&hl=en&q=%22Rising+or+falling+still+advance+his+praise.+His+praise,+ye+Winds,+that+from+four+quarters+blow.+Breathe+soft+or+loud%3B%22&cds=1&sig=ACfU3U3vqdmEx_Tbakks1mFAxOcEzVMRcg&edge=0&edge=stretch&ci=950,732,57,188)
THE LAST DAY. Even thus amid thy pride and luxury, Oh Earth! shall that last coming burst on thee,
That secret coming of the Son of Man; When all the cherub-throning clouds shall shine, Irradiate with his bright advancing sign; When that great Husbandman shall wave his
fan,
![[graphic]](https://books.google.mk/books/content?id=2IggAAAAMAAJ&output=html_text&pg=PA59&img=1&zoom=3&hl=en&q=%22Rising+or+falling+still+advance+his+praise.+His+praise,+ye+Winds,+that+from+four+quarters+blow.+Breathe+soft+or+loud%3B%22&cds=1&sig=ACfU3U1npDIH-qAgXw6QizpW7QpCChdY4w&edge=0&edge=stretch&ci=648,0,355,1314)
![[ocr errors]](https://books.google.mk/books/content?id=2IggAAAAMAAJ&output=html_text&pg=PA59&img=1&zoom=3&hl=en&q=%22Rising+or+falling+still+advance+his+praise.+His+praise,+ye+Winds,+that+from+four+quarters+blow.+Breathe+soft+or+loud%3B%22&cds=1&sig=ACfU3U1npDIH-qAgXw6QizpW7QpCChdY4w&edge=0&edge=stretch&ci=15,447,15,30)
Sweeping, like chaff, thy wealth and pomp away : Still to the noontide of that nightless day,
Shalt thou thy wonted dissolute course maintain. Along the busy mart and crowded street, The buyer and the seller still shall meet,
And marriage feasts begin their jocund strain. Still to the pouring out the cup of woe; Till earth, a drunkard, reeling to and fro, And mountains molten by his burning feet, And heav'n his presence own, all red with furnace
heat. Almighty! trembling like a timid child,
I hear thy awful voice-alarm’d—afraid - ! see the flashes of thy light'ning wild,
And in the very grave would hide my head. Lord! what is man? up to the sun he fies,
Or feebly wanders through earth’s vale of dust: There is he lost 'midst heav'n's high mysteries,
And here in error and in darkness lost : Beneath the storm-clouds, on life's raging sea, Like a poor sailor-by the tempest tost,
Oh! who shall then survive?
Oh! who shall stand and live? When all that hath been is no more;
When for the round earth hung in air,
With all its constellations fair, In the sky's azure canopy : When for the breathing earth, and sparkling sea, Is but a fiery deluge without shore, Heaving along thi abyss profound and dark, A fiery deluge and without an ark. Lord of all power, when thou art there alone On thy eternal fiery-wheeled throne,
That in its higb meridian noon
Need not the perish'd sun nor moon : When thou art there in thy presiding state,
![[merged small][merged small][ocr errors][ocr errors][ocr errors][ocr errors]](https://books.google.mk/books/content?id=2IggAAAAMAAJ&output=html_text&pg=PA59&img=1&zoom=3&hl=en&q=%22Rising+or+falling+still+advance+his+praise.+His+praise,+ye+Winds,+that+from+four+quarters+blow.+Breathe+soft+or+loud%3B%22&cds=1&sig=ACfU3U1npDIH-qAgXw6QizpW7QpCChdY4w&edge=0&edge=stretch&ci=9,823,60,402)
Wide scepter'd monarch o'er the realm of doom : When from the sea-depths, from earth's darkest
womb, The dead of all the ages round thee wait ; And when the tribes of wickedness are strewn,
Like forest leaves in the autumn of thine ire: Faithful and true ! thou still shalt save thine own!
The saints shall dwell with unharming fire; Each white robe spotless, blooming every palm. Even safe as we, by this still Fountain's side. So shall the Church, thy bright and mystic bride
Sit on the stormy gulf a balcyon bird of calm. Yes, mid yon angry and destroying signs, O'er us the rainbow of thy mercy shines, We hall, we bless the covenant of its beam, Almighty to avenge, almightiest to redeem!
MILMAN!
SOUND THE LOUD TIMBREL O'ER EGYPT'S
DARK SEA!
Sound the loud Timbrel o'er Egypt's dark sea! Jehovah has triumph'd—his people are free. Sing, for the pride of the tyrant is broken, His chariots and horsemen, all splendid and
brave, How vain was their boasting !—The Lord hath
but spoken, And chariots and horsemen are sunk in the
und the loud timbrel o'er Egypt's dark sea; hovah has triumph’d, his people are free.
aise to the Conqueror, praise to the Lord, Jis word was our arrow, his breath was our
sword !
« PreviousContinue » |