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201.

FOR Thy mercy and Thy grace,
Faithful through another year,
Hear our song of thankfulness,

Father and Redeemer, hear.

In our weakness and distress,

Rock of strength, be Thou our Stay :

In the pathless wilderness

Be our true and living Way.

Who of us death's awful road

In the coming year shall tread, With Thy rod and staff, O God, Comfort Thou his dying head.

Keep us faithful, keep us pure,
Keep us evermore Thine own;
Help, O help us to endure;

Fit us for the promised crown.

So within Thy palace gate

We shall praise, on golden strings,

Thee, the only Potentate,

Lord of lords, and King of kings.

HENRY DOWNTON, 1841

Sunday nearest to June 12.*

202.

FATHER, to Thee our life is owing;
And, when each birth-tide's morn appears,
From Thee our home-delights are flowing,
With all which earthly love endears,
While joyous faces round us press,
To share and swell our happiness.

Yet purer joys and nobler meetings
Wait on the spirit's natal day;
While friends above, with angel-greetings,
Welcome its flight from mortal clay;
And happy souls, redeemed from earth,
Hail one more spirit's hour of birth.

And bright each Sunday morn that shineth,
O Saviour, on Thy church below:
Yet e'en its holiest bliss declineth

Before the joys Thine angels know,
Before that glorious Sabbath-rest,

With which Thy church in heaven is blest.

E'en thus, full many a gracious blessing
Thou, Lord, hast given to sense and sight;
And blest is he, these gifts possessing,

Who uses all in Thee aright,

Who owns from Thee such boons divine,
"Hath seen," and "hath believed

Yet doubly blest, by faith ascending
Beyond the gaze of mortal eye,

them Thine.

Who grasps, on Thy sure word depending,
Each viewless, great reality,

"Not seen

as yet, not yet received;

Hath trusted Thee, and "hath believed!"

H. J. BUCKOLL, 1843.

* Dr. Arnold died on Sunday, June 12, 1842; the next day would have been his 47th birthday. At the beginning of the short illness which caused his death, he repeated the words: "And Jesus said unto him, Thomas, because thou hast seen thou hast believed; blessed are they who have not seen and yet have believed." (See Stanley's Life of Dr. Arnold.)

Founder's Commemoration, November 1.

203.

FATHER, hear Thy children's praises
For the boon we own to-day;
Grateful love our hearts upraises,
This our sacrifice to pay :

Thanks for all Thy mercies given,
Stores of knowledge here unrolled,
Means of grace, and hopes of heaven,
Unto us, Thy chosen fold.

Lord, Thy servants' spirits turning,
Mould them by Thy gracious sway:
Godliness and all good learning
May we follow, day by day.

May we, these Thy bounties sharing,
Every talent use aright,

Still by earthly lore preparing,

Till our faith be turned to sight;

Till, undimmed by dark reflection,
Face to face shall Christ be shown;
Knowledge rise to full perfection,
Knowing e'en as we are known.

H. J. BUCKOLL, 1843.

For any School Commemoration.

204.

O JESU, strong and pure and true,
Before Thy feet we bow;

The grace of earlier years renew,
And lead us onward now.

The joyous life that year by year
Within these walls is stored,

The golden hope, the gladsome cheer,
We bring to Thee, O Lord.

Our faith endow with keener powers,
With warmer glow our love,

And draw these halting hearts of ours
From earth to heaven above.

In paths our bravest ones have trod
O make us brave to go,

That we may give our lives to God
In serving man below.

Scorn we the selfish aim and choice,
And love's high precept keep,
"Rejoice with those that do rejoice,
And weep with those that weep."

So hence shall flow fresh strength and grace, As from a full-fed spring,

To make the world a better place,

And life a worthier thing.

BISHOP WALSHAM HOW, 1896.

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Thou ever living Word,

Here have we felt Thy kindling flame,
Thy voice within have heard.

Here holy thought and hymn and prayer
Have winged the spirit's powers,
And made these walls divinely fair,
Thy temple, Lord, and ours.

What visions rise above the years!
What tender memories throng!
Till the eye fills with happy tears,
The heart with happy song.

Vanish the mists of time and sense;
They come, the loved of yore,
And one encircling Providence
Holds all for evermore,

O not in vain their toil, who wrought
To build faith's sacred shrine;

Nor theirs, whose steadfast love and thought
Have watched the fire divine.

Burn, holy fire, and shine more wide:

While systems rise and fall,

Faith, hope, and charity abide,

The heart and soul of all.

F. L. HOSMER, 1890.

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