« IndietroContinua »
4 Father! our souls would still abide
Within thy temple, near thy side;
But if our feet must hence depart,
Still keep thy dwelling in our heart.
The Delights of Worship.
SWEET is the task, O Lord,
Thy glorious acts to sing,
To praise thy name, and hear thy word,
And grateful offerings bring.
2 Sweet, at the dawning hour,
Thy boundless love to tell;
And when the night-wind shuts the flower,
Still on the theme to dwell.
3 Sweet, on this day of rest,
To join in heart and voice
With those who love and serve thee best,
And in thy name rejoice.
4 To songs of praise and joy
Be every Sabbath given,
That such may be our blest employ,
Eternally, in heaven.
The Temples of Worship.
GREAT is the Lord our God!
And let his praise be great;
He makes his churches his abode,
His most delightful seat.
2 These temples of his grace,
How beautiful they stand!
The honors of our native place,
The bulwarks of our land.
3 A refuge in distress,
To Zion God is known;
How bright through all her palaces
Hath his salvation shone!
Oft have our fathers told,
Our eyes have often seen,
How well our God secures the fold
Where his own sheep have been.
5 In every new distress,
We'll to his house repair;
We'll think upon his wondrous grace,
And seek deliverance there.
For Faith and Love.
1 O GOD, whose presence glows in all
Within, around us, and above!
Thy word we bless, thy name we call,
Whose word is Truth, whose name is Love.
2 That truth be with the heart believed
Of all who seek this sacred place;
With power proclaimed, in peace received,-
Our spirit's light, thy spirit's grace.
3 That love its holy influence pour,
To keep us meek, and make us free;
And throw its binding blessing more
Round each with all, and all with thee.
4 Send down its angel to our side;
Send in its calm upon the breast;
For we would know no other guide,
And we can need no other rest.
Longing for the House of God.
LORD of the worlds above, How pleasant and how fair The dwellings of thy love, Thine earthly temples are! To thine abode
My heart aspires,
With warm desires
To see my God.
2 The sparrow for her young
With pleasure seeks a nest,
And wandering swallows long
To find their wonted rest:
Ty spirit faints,
With equal zeal,
To rise and dwell
Among thy saints.
3 O happy souls that pray
Where God appoints to hear!
O happy men that pay
Their constant service there!
They praise thee still; That love the way
And happy they
To Zion's hill!
4 They go from strength to strength, Through this dark vale of tears, Till each arrives at length,
Till each in heaven appears: O glorious seat, Shall thither bring When God, our King, Our willing feet!
The Hour of Prayer.
1 BLEST hour, when mortal man retires
To hold communion with his God,
To send to heaven his warm desires,
And listen to the sacred word.
2 Blest hour, when earthly cares resign
Their empire o'er his anxious breast,
While, all around, the calm divine
Proclaims the holy day of rest.
3 Blest hour, when God himself draws nigh,
Well pleased his people's voice to hear,
To hush the penitential sigh,
And wipe away the mourner's tear.
4 Blest hour! for where the Lord resorts
Foretastes of future bliss are given,
And mortals find his earthly courts
The house of God, the gate of heaven.
Subjection to the Father of our Spirits.
1 ETERNAL Source of life and thought!
Be all beneath thyself forgot,
Whilst thee, great Parent-mind, we own,
In prostrate homage round thy throne.
Whilst in themselves our souls
Of thee some faint, reflected ray,
They, wondering, to their Father rise:
His power how vast! his thoughts how wise!
3 O may we live before thy face,
The willing subjects of thy grace,
And through each path of duty move
With filial awe and filial love!
"Ask, and ye shall receive."
1 OUR Father, throned above the sky!
To thee our empty hands we spread;
Thy children at thy footstool lie,
And ask thy blessings on their head.
2 With cheerful hope and filial fear,
In that august and precious name,
By thee ordained, we now draw near,
And would the promised blessing claim.
Doth not an earthly parent hear
The cravings of his famished son?
Will he reject the filial prayer,
Or mock him with a cake of stone?
Our Heavenly Father, how much more
Will thy divine compassion rise,
And open thine unbounded store
To satisfy thy children's cries!
5 Yes, we will ask, and seek, and press
For gracious audience to thy seat,
Still hoping, waiting, for success,
If persevering to entreat.
For Jesus, in his faithful word,
The patient supplicant hath blessed;
And all thy saints, with one accord,
The prevalence of prayer attest.