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He calls, and at his voice come forth
The smiling harvest hours.

2. His cov❜nant with the earth he keeps ;
My tongue his goodness sing;
Summer and winter know their time,
His harvest crowns the spring.

3. Well pleas'd the toiling swains behold The waving yellow crop:

With joy they bear the sheaves away,
And sow again in hope.

4. Thus teach me gracious God, to sow
The seeds of righteousness;
Smile on my soul, and with thy beams
The rip'ning harvest bless.

5. Then, in the last great harvest, I
Shall reap a glorious crop:
The harvest shall by far exceed
What I have sow'd in hope.


Hymn 410. c. M.

STERN Winter throws his icy chains

Encircling nature round:

How bleak, how comfortless the plains,
Late with gay verdure crown'd!

2. The sun withdraws his vital beams,
And light, and warmth depart;
And drooping, lifeless nature seems
An emblem of my heart.

3. My heart, where mental winter reigns
In night's dark mantle clad,
Confin'd in cold inactive chains
How desolate and sad!

4. Return, O blissful Sun, and bring,
Thy soul-reviving ray;

This mental winter shall be spring,
This darkness cheerful day.


5. O happy state, divine abode,
Where spring eternal reigns;
And perfect day, the smile of God,
Fills all the heav'nly plains.

6. Great source of light, thy beams display,
My drooping joys restore,
And guide me to the seats of day,
Where winter frowns no more.


Hymn 411. L. M.


The Seasons crowned with goodness, Psalm Ixv. 1.
TERNAL source of every
Well may thy praise our lips employ,
While in thy temple we appear,
Whose goodness crowns the circling year.
2. The flow'ry Spring at thy command
Perfumes the air and paints the land;
The Summer rays with vigour shine,
To raise the corn and cheer the vine.
3. Thy hand, in Autumn, richly pours
Thro' all our coasts redundant stores;
And Winters, soften'd by thy care,
No more the face of horror wear.

4. Seasons, and months, and weeks, and days
Demand successive songs of praise;
And be the grateful homage paid
With morning light and evening shade.
5. Here in thy house let incense rise,
And circling Sabbaths bless our eyes,
"Till to those lofty heights we soar,
Where days and years revolve no more.



Hymn 412. c. M.

ITH songs and honours sounding loud
Address the Lord on high ;

Over the heav'ns he spreads his cloud,
And waters veil the sky.

2. He sends his show'rs of blessings down To cheer the plains below;

He makes the grass the mountains crown,
And corn in vallies grow.

3. He gives the grazing ox his meat,
He hears the ravens cry;

But man, who tastes his finest wheat,
Should raise his honours high.

4. His steady counsels change the face
Of the declining year;

He bids the sun cut short his race,
And wint❜ry days appear.

5. His hoary frost, his fleecy snow,
Descend and clothe the ground :
The liquid streams forbear to flow,
In icy fetters bound.

6. When from his dreadful stores on high
He pours the rattling hail,
The wretch that dares his God defy,
Shall find his courage fail.

7. He sends his word, and melts the snow;
The fields no longer mourn;
He calls the warmer gales to blow,
And bids the spring return.

3. The changing wind, the flying clo,
Obey his mighty word:

With songs and honours sounding loud
Praise ye the sov❜reign Lord.



Hymn 413. L. M.

National Judgments deprecated, and national mercies pleaded. Amos iii. 1-6.



WHILE o'er our guilty land, O Lord,
We view the terrors of thy sword:
Oh! whither shall the helpless fly;
To whom but thee direct their cry?
2. The helpless sinner's cries and tears
Are grown familiar to thine ears;
Oft has thy mercy sent relief,
When ail was fear and hopeless grief.
3. On thee our guardian God we call,
Before thy throne of grace we fall;
And is there no deliverance there;
And must we perish in despair?

4. See, we repent, we weep, we mourn,
To our forsaken God we turn;

O spare our guilty country, spare
The church which thou hast planted here,
5. We plead thy grace, indulgent God;
We plead thy Son's-atoning blood;
We plead thy gracious promises,
And are they unavailing pleas?

6. These pleas presented at thy throne
Have brought ten thousand blessings down
On guilty lands in helpless woe;

Let them prevail to save us too.

Hymn 414. c. M.

1. DEATH with his dread commission seal'd,

Now hastens to his arms;

In awful state he takes the field,

And sounds his dire alarms,

2. Attendant plagues around him stand,
And wait his dread command;
And pains and dying groans obey
The signal of his hand.

3. With cruel force he scatters round
His shafts of deadly pow'r ;
While the grave waits its destin'd prey,
Impatient to devour.

4. Look up, ye heirs of endless joy,
Nor let your fears prevail;
Eternal life is your reward,

When life on earth shall fail.

5. What tho' his darts, promiscuous hurl'd, Deal fatal plagues around ; And heaps of putrid carcases

O'erload the cumber'd ground;

6. The arrows that shall wound your flesh,
Were giv'n him from above,
Dipt in the great Redeemer's blood,
And wing'd with grace and love.

7. These, with a gentle hand, he throws,
And saints-lie gasping too;

But heav'nly strength supports their souls,
And bears them conqu'rors thro'.

8. Joyful they stretch their wings abroad,
And all in triumph rise

To the fair palace of their God,
And mansions in the skies.


Hymn 415. c. M.

ORD, I am pain'd; but I resign
My body to thy

'Tis grace, 'tis wisdom all divine,
Appoints the pains I feel.

2. Dark are thy ways of providence, While they who love thee groan :

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