Blessing of the Lord's Day.
1 BLEST day of God! most calm, most bright!
The first and best of days;
The laborer's rest, the saint's delight,
The day of prayer and praise.
2 My Saviour's face made thee to shine;
His rising thee did raise,
And made thee heavenly and divine,
Beyond all other days.
3 The first fruits oft a blessing prove
To all the sheaves behind;
And they who do the Sabbath love,
A happy week will find.
4 This day I must to God appear,
For, Lord, the day is thine;
Help me to spend it in thy fear,
And thus to make it mine.
God holy, just, and sovereign.
1 How should the sons of Adam's race
Be pure before their God!
If he contend in righteousness,
We fall beneath his rod.
2 Mountains, by his almighty wrath,
From their old seats are torn;
He shakes the earth from south to north,
And all her pillars mourn.
3 He bids the sun forbear to rise; The obedient sun forbears!
His hand with sackcloth spreads the skies, And seals up all the stars.
4 He walks upon the stormy sea; Flies on the stormy wind;
There's none can trace his wondrous way, Or his dark footsteps find.
The Soul panting for God. Ps. 42.
1 As, panting in the sultry beam,
The hart desires the cooling stream,
So to thy presence, Lord, I flee,
So longs my soul, O God, for thee;
Athirst to taste thy living grace,
And see thy glory, face to face.
2 But rising griefs distress my soul,
And tears on tears successive roll;
For many an evil voice is near,
To chide my woe and mock my fear;
And silent memory weeps alone
O'er hours of peace and gladness flown.
3 For I have walked the happy round
That circles Zion's holy ground,
And gladly swelled the choral lays
That hymned my great Creator's praise,
What time the hallowed arches rung
Responsive to the solemn song.
4 Ah, why, by passing clouds oppressed, Should vexing thoughts distract thy breast? Turn, turn to Him, in every pain,
Whom suppliants never sought in vain—
Thy strength in joy's ecstatic day,
Thy hope when joy has passed away.
"Creator Spirit, by whose aid."
1 OH! Source of uncreated light!
By whom the worlds were raised from night; Come, visit every pious mind;
Come, pour thy joys on human kind.
2 Plenteous in grace, descend from high,
Rich in thy matchless energy;
From sin and sorrow set us free,
And make us temples worthy thee.
3 Cleanse and refine our earthly parts,
Inflame and sanctify our hearts,
Our frailties help, our vice control,
Submit the senses to the soul.
4 Thrice holy Fount! thrice holy Fire!
Our hearts with heavenly love inspire;
Make us eternal truths receive,
Aid us to live as we believe.
5 Chase from our path each noxious foe,
And peace, the fruit of love, bestow;
And, lest our feet should step astray,
Protect and guide us in our way.
The Universal Prayer.
1 FATHER of all! in every age,
In every clime adored,
By saint, by savage, or by sage,
The universal Lord!
2 Thou great First Cause! least understood, Who all my sense confined,
To know but this,-that thou art good,
And that myself am blind;
3 What conscience dictates to be done,
Or warns me not to do,
This teach me, more than hell, to shun,
That, more than heaven, pursue.
4 If I am right, thy grace impart
Still in the right to stay;
If I am wrong, O teach my heart
To find that better way.
5 Save me alike from foolish pride
Or impious discontent,
At aught thy wisdom has denied,
Or aught thy goodness lent.
6 Teach me to feel another's woe,
To hide the fault I see;
That mercy I to others show,
That mercy show to me.
7 Mean though I am, (not wholly so,
Since quickened by thy breath,)
O, lead me, wheresoe'er I go,
Through this day's life or death.
8 This day be bread and peace my lot;
But all beneath the sun
Thou know'st if best bestowed or not;
And let thy will be done.
9 To thee, whose temple is all space,
Whose altar earth, sea, skies,
One chorus let all beings raise,
All nature's incense rise.
CHRISTIAN PSALMIST.
Constant Use of God's Word.
1 WHEN quiet in my house I sit,
Thy Book be my companion still,
My joy thy sayings to repeat,
Talk o'er the records of thy will,
And search the oracles divine,
Till every heartfelt word be mine.
2 Oft as I lay me down to rest,
O may the reconciling word
Sweetly compose my weary breast,
While, trusting in my gracious Lord,
I sink in peaceful dreams away,
And visions of eternal day!
3 Rising to sing my Father's praise,
Thee may I publish all day long;
And let thy precious word of grace
Flow from my heart and fill my tongue.
Fill all my life with purest love,
And join me to the church above.
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