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Why do I thus perplex
With pleasing wonder, Lord ! we view
With sacred joy we-lift our eyes
With sleep’s oblivion o’er me laid



Ye foll’wers of the Prince of

Ye golden lamps of heaven, farewell!
Ye humble souls, complain no more
Ye trembling souls, dismiss your fears
Ye wcak inhabitants of clay





1. 7s. M. J. TAYLOR.

Glory to the Most High God. 1 GLORY be to God on high !

God, whose glory fills the sky;
Peace on earth to man forgiv’n,
Man, the well-belov'd of heav'n :

Glory be to God on high!

God, whose glory fills the sky. 2 Favour'd mortals, raise the song ;

Endless thanks to God belong ;
Hearts o'erflowing with his praise,

Join the hymns your voices raise. 3 Call the tribes of beings round,

From Creation's utmost bound;
Where the Godhead shines confess'd,
There be solemo praise address’d.

4 Mark the wonders of his hand !

Power, no empire can withstand ;
Wisdom, angels' glorious theme ;

Goodness, one eternal stream. 5 Happy, who his laws obey,

Them he rules with milder sway:
Pure and holy hearts alone

He hath chosen for his own.
6 Awful being ! from thy throne

Send thy promis'd blessings down;
Let thy light, thy truth, thy peace,
Bid our raging passions cease.



L, M.

Ps. c. 1. 3-5.

1 BEFORE Jehovah's awful throne

Ye nations bow with sacred joy :
Know that the Lord is God alone;

He can create, and he destroy. 2 His pow'rful word, which all things made,

Gave life to clay, and form'd us men:
And when like wand'ring sheep we stray'd,

He brought us to his fold again. 3 We are his people, we his care,

Our reas’ning, and our sensual frame :
What lasting honours can we rear,

Almighty Maker, to thy name? 4 We'll crowd thy gates with thankful songs;

High as the heav'ns our voices raise;

And earth, with her ten thousand tongues,

Shall fill thy courts with sounding praise. 5 Wide as the world is thy command;

Vast as eternity thy love;
Firm as a rock thy truth will stand,
When rolling years shall cease to move.

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A Lord's day hymn.
1 This is the day the Lord of life

Ascended to the skies;
My thoughts, pursue the lofty theme,

And to the heav'n arise.
2 Let no vain cares divert my mind

From this celestial road;
Nor all the honours of the earth


soul from God. 3 Think of the splendors of that place,

The joys that are on high ; Nor meanly rest contented here,

With worlds beneath the sky.
4 Heav'o is the birth-place of the saints;

Thither at length, they tend ;
Th’ Almighty owns his fav’rite race,

Aş Father and as Friend.
5 O may these lovely titles prove

My comfort and defence,
When the sick couch shall be my lot,

And death shall call me hence.


L. M.


Public and social worship. Ps. 84.

1 What pleasure, Lord! thy house attends

When the whole heart to heav'n ascends ; One day thus spent with thee on earth,

Exceeds a thousand days of mirth.
2 While we can have the meanest place

Within thy house, O God of grace,
We would not absent from thee live,

For all a tempting world can give.
3 Happy the saints around thy throne,

Who know thee, as themselves are known: Thy brightest glories shine above,

And all their work is praise and love. 4 Happy the souls that find a place

In earthly temples of thy grace:
Here they behold thy gentler rays,

Inquire thy will, and learn to praise. 5 Happy the men whose hearts are set

To find the way to Zion's gate :
God is their strength; and thro' the road

They lean upon their helper, God. 6 Cheerful they walk with growing strength,

Till all shall meet in heav'n at length,
Till all before thy face appear,
And join in nobler worship there.

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