2 Enter with all Thy glorious train, Thy Spirit and Thy word; Could no such grace afford. 3 Here, mighty God, accept our vows, Here let Thy praise be spread; Bless the provisions of Thy house, And fill Thy poor with bread. 487 HEBRON L. M. A - men. 4 Here let the Son of David reign, Let God's anointed sbine, divine. And, as His kingdom grows, And shame confound His foes. I. Watts, 1719 L. Mason, 1830 Where'er they seek Thee, Thou art found, And every place is hallow'd ground. A - men. 2 For Thou, within no walls confined, 4 Here may we prove the of prayer 488 78, 6s. 81. DAY OF REST J. W. Elliott (1833–) Man. Ped. The forces at his hand Despoil the pleasant land; In strife so keen and long, Be stronger than the strong. The great things that we see: And for the things to be. For bright hope is uplifting Faint hands and feeble knees, To strive beneath Thy blessing For greater things than these. 4 Lead on, O love and mercy, O purity and power, Shall close this battle-hour: To set their brethren free, 489 MELITA L. M. 61. J. B. Dykes, 1861 1. E • TER - NAL Fa-ther! strong to save, Whose arm doth bind the rest-less wave, on the sea. A - men And gavest light, and life, and peace; For those in peril on the sea! 4 O Trinity of love and power! Our brethren shield in danger's hour; W. Whiting, 1860 V. Novello, 1800 sail Up - on the lone - ly deep, 4 2 0 Jesus, once rocked on the breast of the billow, Aroused by the shriek of despair from Thy pillow, Who cries in his anguish, “Help Lord, or we perish!" When sin in our hearts its wild warfare is waging, 1. Sare home, safe home in port! Rent cord - age, shat-tered deck, Torn sails, pro 2 The prize, the prize secure! 4 The lamb is in the fold, The athlete nearly fell, In perfect safety penn'd; Bare all he could endure, The lion once had hold, And bare not always well. And thought to make an end; But He may smile at troubles gone, But One came by with Wounded Side, Who sets the victor-garland on! And for the sheep the Shepherd died. 3 No more the foe can harm; 5 The exile is at Home! No more the leaguered camp, O nights and days of tears, And cry of night alarm, O longings not to roam, And need of ready lamp. O sins, and doubts and fears.And yet how nearly he had failed, - What matter now (when so men say) How nearly had that foe prevailed! The King has wiped those tears away! 6 O happy, happy Bride! Thy widowed hours are past, Thou all His Own at last ! St. Joseph of the Studium, c. 830 Tr. J. M. Neale, 1863 |