4 Be this, O Lord, that honour'd place,The house of God, the gate of heaven; And may the fulness of thy grace
To all who here shall meet be given. 5 And hence, in spirit, may we soar To those bright courts where seraphs bend; With awe like theirs, on earth adore,
Till with their anthems ours shall blend.
The tokens of His grace.
ND will the great eternal God
And will he, from his radiant throne,
Accept our temples for his own?
2 These walls we to thy honour raise;
Long may they echo with thy praise:
And thou, descending, fill the place
With choicest tokens of thy grace.
3 Here let the great Redeemer reign,
With all the graces of his train ;
While power divine his word attends,
To conquer foes, and cheer his friends.
4 And in the great decisive day,
When God the nations shall survey,
May it before the world appear
That crowds were born to glory here.
An humble offering to Jehovah.
HE perfect world, by Adam trod,
Was the first temple built by God;
His fiat laid the corner-stone;
He spake, and, lo! the work was done.
2 He hung its starry roof on high,
The broad expanse of azure sky;
He spread its pavement, green and bright,
And curtain'd it with morning light.
3 The mountains in their places stood,
The sea, the sky; and all was good;
And when its first pure praises rang,
The morning stars together sang.
4 Lord, 'tis not ours to make the sea,
And earth, and sky, a house for thee;
But in thy sight our off'ring stands,
An humble temple, built with hands.
9th P. M. 87, 87, 87, 87.
For the dedication of a seamen's Bethel.
who on the whirlwind ridest, At whose word the thunder roars, Who in majesty presidest
O'er the oceans and their shores; From those shores, and from the ocean, We, the children of the sea,
Come to offer our devotion,
And to give this house to thee.
2 When, for business on great waters,
We go down to sea in ships,
And our weeping sons and daughters
Hang, at parting, on our lips;
This our Bethel shall remind us
That Jehovah heareth prayer;
And that those we leave behind us
Are thy faithful church's care.
3 When in port, each day that's holy
To this house we 'll press in throngs;
When at sea, with spirit lowly,
We'll repeat its sacred songs. Outward bound, shall we, in sadness, Lose its flag behind the seas; Homeward bound, we'll greet with gladness Its first floating on the breeze.
4 Homeward bound!-with deep emotion, We remember, Lord, that life Is a voyage o'er an ocean
Heaved by many a tempest's strife.
Be thy statutes so engraven
On our hearts and minds, that we,
Anchoring in death's quiet haven,
All may make our home with thee.
Souls perishing for lack of knowledge.
HEPHERD of souls, with pitying eye
The thousands of our Israel see;
To thee in their behalf we cry,-
Ourselves but newly found in thee.
2 See where o'er desert wastes they err,
And neither food nor feeder have,
Nor fold, nor place of refuge near,
For no man cares their souls to save.
3 Thy people, Lord, are sold for naught,
Nor know they their Redeemer nigh;
They perish, whom thyself hast bought;
Their souls for lack of knowledge die.
4 The pit its mouth hath open'd wide,
To swallow up its careless prey:
Why should they die, when thou hast died-
Hast died to bear their sins away?
5 Why should the foe thy purchase seize? Remember, Lord, thy dying groans:
The meed of all thy suff'rings these;
O claim them for thy ransom'd ones!
26th P. M. 76, 76, 76, 76.
The cry of the heathen.
TROM Greenland's icy mountains,
From India's coral strand;
Where Afric's sunny fountains
Roll down their golden sand;
From many an ancient river,
From many a palmy plain,
They call us to deliver
Their land from error's chain.
2 What though the spicy breezes
Blow soft o'er Ceylon's isle;
Though every prospect pleases,
And only man is vile:
In vain with lavish kindness
The gifts of God are strown;
The heathen in his blindness
Bows down to wood and stone.
3 Shall we, whose souls are lighted
With wisdom from on high,
Shall we to men benighted
The lamp of life deny?
Salvation!-O salvation!
The joyful sound proclaim,
Till earth's remotest nation
Has learn'd Messiah's name.
4 Waft, waft, ye winds, his story,
And you, ye waters, roll,
Till, like a sea of glory,
It spreads from pole to pole:
Till o'er our ransom'd nature
The Lamb for sinners slain,
Redeemer, King, Creator,
In bliss returns to reign.
ET God, who comforts the distress'd,
Let Israel's Consolation, hear;
Hear, Holy Ghost, our joint request,
And show thyself the Comforter;
And swell the' unutterable groan,
And breathe our wishes to the throne.
2 We wrestle for the ruin'd race;
By sin eternally undone,
Unless thou magnify thy grace,
And make thy richest mercy known,
And make thy vanquish'd rebels find
Pardon in Christ for all mankind.
3 Father of everlasting love,
To every soul thy Son reveal,
Our guilt and suff'rings to remove,
Our deep, original wound to heal;
And bid the fallen race arise,
And turn our earth to paradise.
The glorious predictions.
HE Law and Prophets all foretold
That Christ should die, and leave the grave;
Gather the world into his fold,
The Church of Jews and Gentiles save.
2 Yet, by the prince of darkness bound,
The nations still are wrapt in night:
They never heard the joyful sound;
They never saw the Gospel light.
3 Light of the world, again appear,
In mildest majesty of grace,
And bring the great salvation near,
And claim our whole apostate race.
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