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Clad in raiment pure and white,
Victor palms in ev'ry hand,
Through their great Redeemer's might
More than conquerors they stand.
3 Hunger, thirst, disease unknown,
On immortal fruits they feed;
Them the Lamb amidst the throne
Shall to living fountains lead:
Joy and gladness banish sighs;
Perfect love dispels their fears;
And, for ever from their eyes
God shall wipe away their tears.

XIV. MISCELLANEOUS.

HYMN 202.

Genesis xxviii. 20, 21.

(C. M.)

1 GOD of our fathers! by whose hand
Thy people still are blest,

Be with us through our pilgrimage,
Conduct us to our rest.

2 Through each perplexing path of life
Our wand'ring footsteps guide;
Give us each day our daily bread,
And raiment fit provide.

3 O spread thy shelt'ring wings around,
Till all our wand'rings cease,

And, at our Father's lov'd abode
Our souls arrive in peace.

4 Such blessings from thy gracious hand
Our humble pray'rs implore;

And thou, the Lord, shalt be our God,
And portion evermore.

HYMN 203.

1 Chronicles xxix. 10-13.

(III. 3.)

1 BLESS'D be thou, the God of Israel, Thou, our Father, and our Lord!

Bless'd thy majesty for ever!

Ever be thy name ador'd!

2 Thine, O Lord, are pow'r and greatness, Glory, vict'ry, are thine own;

All is thine in earth and heaven,
Over all thy boundless throne.
3 Riches come of thee, and honour,
Pow'r and might to thee belong;
Thine it is to make us prosper,
Only thine to make us strong.
4 Lord our God! for these, thy bounties,
Hymns of gratitude we raise;
To thy Name, for ever glorious,
Ever we address our praise!

HYMN 204.

Proverbs iii. 13-17.

1 HAPPY is the man who hears
Religion's warning voice,

And who celestial wisdom makes
His early, only choice.

2 For she has treasures greater far
Than east or west unfold;

(C. M.)

More precious are her bright rewards,
Than gems, or stores of gold.
3 Her right hand offers to the just
Immortal, happy days;

Her left, imperishable wealth,
And heavenly crowns displays.

4 And, as her holy labours rise,
So her rewards increase;

Her ways are ways of pleasantness,
And all her paths are peace.

HYMN 205.

Isaiah xl. 6-8.

(L. M.)

1 THE morning flow'rs display their sweets, And gay their silken leaves unfold;

As careless of the noon-day heats,
And fearless of the ev'ning cold.

2 Nipp'd by the wind's unkindly blast,
Parch'd by the sun's more fervent ray,
The momentary glories waste,

The short-liv'd beauties die away.

3 So blooms the human face divine,
When youth its pride of beauty shows;
Fairer than spring the colours shine,
And sweeter than the op'ning rose.

4 But, worn by slowly rolling years, Or broke by sickness in a day, The fading glory disappears,

The short-liv'd beauties die away.

5 Yet these, new rising from the tomb, With lustre brighter far shall shine; Revive with ever-during bloom,

Safe from diseases and decline.

6 Let sickness blast, and death devour,
If heaven shall recompense our pains:
Perish the grass, and fade the flow'r,
If firm the word of God remains.

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1 WHY mournest thou, my anxious soul, Despairing of relief,

As if the Lord o'erlook'd thy cares,
Or pitied not thy grief?

2 Hast thou not known, hast thou not heard,
That firm remains on high,
The everlasting throne-of Him

Who made the earth and sky?

3 Art thou afraid his power will fail
In sorrow's evil day?

Can the Creator's mighty arm
Grow weary or decay?

4 Supreme in wisdom as in

power

The Rock of ages stands;

Thou canst not search his mind, nor trace

The working of his hands.

5 He gives the conquest to the weak,

Supports the fainting heart;

And courage in the evil hour
His heavenly aids impart.

6 Mere human energy shall faint,
And youthful vigour cease;
But those who wait upon the Lord
In strength shall still increase.

7 They, with unwearied step, shall tread
The path of life divine;

With growing ardour onward move,
With growing brightness shine.

8 On eagles' wings they mount, they soar
On wings of faith and love;

Till, past the sphere of earth and sin,
They rise to heaven above.

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1 THUS speaks the High and Lofty OneMy throne is fix'd on high;

There, through eternity, I hear
The praises of the sky:

2 Yet, looking down, I visit oft
The humble, hallow'd cell;
And, with the penitent who mourn,
'Tis my delight to dwell.

My presence heals the wounded heart,
The sad in spirit cheers;

My presence, from the bed of dust,
The contrite sinner rears.

4 I dwell with all my humble saints
While they on earth remain;
And they, exalted, dwell with me,
With me for ever reign.

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1 ALTHOUGH the vine its fruit deny,
The budding fig-tree droop and die,
No oil the olive yield;

Yet will I trust me in my God,
Yea, bend rejoicing to his rod,

And by his grace be heal'd.

2 Though fields, in verdure once array'd,
By whodwinds desolate be laid,

Or parch'd by scorching beam;
my trust,

Still in the Lord shall be

My joy; for, though his frown is just,
His mercy is supreme.

3 Though from the fold the flock decay,
Though herds lie famish'd o'er the lea

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And round the empty stall;
My soul above the wreck shall rise,
Its better joys are in the skies;
There, God is all in all.

4 In God my strength, howe'er distrest,
I yet will hope, and calmly rest,
Nay, triumph in his love;

My ling'ring soul, my tardy feet,
Free as the hind he makes and fleet,
To speed my course above.

HYMN 209.

St. John xiv. 6.

1 THOU art the way-to thee alone
From sin and death we flee;

And he who would the Father seek,
Must seek him, Lord, by thee.

2 Thou art the truth-thy word alone
True wisdom can impart;

Thou only canst inform the mind
And purify the heart.

(C. M.)

3 Thou art the life-the rending tomb
Proclaims thy conqu❜ring arm,
And those who put their trust in thee
Nor death nor hell shall harm.

4 Thou art the way, the truth, the life;
Grant us that way to know,
That truth to keep, that life to win,
Whose joys eternal flow.

HYMN 210.

Philippians ii. 12, 13.

1 HEIRS of unending life,

While yet we sojourn here,

O let us our salvation work
With trembling and with fear.

2 God will support our hearts

With might before unknown; The work to be perform❜d is ours, The strength is all his own. 3 'Tis he that works to will, 'Tis he that works to do;

(s. M.)

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