3 O, enter his gates with thanksgiving and song; Your vows in his temple proclaim;

His praise in melodious accordance prolong,
And bless his adorable name.

4 For good is the Lord, inexpressibly good,
And we are the work of his hand;

His mercy and truth from eternity stood,
And shall to eternity stand.

366

P. M.

H. WARE, JR.

Easter Hymn.

1 LIFT your glad voices in triumph on high,
For Jesus hath risen, and man cannot die.
Vain were the terrors that gathered around him,
And short the dominion of death and the grave;
He burst from the fetters of darkness that bound him,
Resplendent in glory, to live and to save.

Loud was the chorus of angels on high,
The Saviour hath risen and man cannot die.

2 Glory to God, in full anthems of joy;

The being he gave us, death cannot destroy. Sad were the life we must part with to-morrow,

If tears were our birth-right, and death were our end;
But Jesus hath cheered the dark valley of sorrow,

And bade us, immortal, to heaven ascend.
Lift then your voices to triumph on high,
For Jesus hath risen and man cannot die.

367

8 & 6s. M.

C. SMART.

The X Am.

1 WE sing of God, the mighty source
Of all things, the stupendous force
On which all things depend;

From whose right arm, beneath whose eyes
All period, power, and enterprise

Commence, and reign, and end.

2 The world, the clustering spheres, he made; The glorious light, the soothing shade,

Dale, champaign, grove and hill;

The multitudinous abyss,

Where secrecy remains in bliss

And wisdom hides her skill.

3 Tell them I AM, Jehovah said

To Moses, while earth heard with dread;
And, smitten to the heart,

At once above, beneath, around,
All nature, without voice or sound,
Replied, O Lord, thou art.

368

8 & 6s. M.

ANONYMOUS,

"Thy Will be Done."

1 My God, my Father, while I stray

Far from my home, on life's rough way,

O, teach me from my heart to say,

2 Though dark my path, and sad my lot,
Let me be still, and murmur not,
And breathe the prayer divinely taught,
"Thy will, my God, be done."

3 If thou should'st call me to resign

What most I prize — it ne'er was mine, –
I only yield thee what is thine;

"Thy will, my God, be done."

4 Renew my will from day to day,
Blend it with thine, and take away
Whate'er now makes it hard to say,
"Thy will, my God, be done."

369

P. M.

CAMERONIAN HYMN,

Prayer of the Persecuted.

1 OH thou who dwell'st in the Heavens high
Above the stars, and within yon sky;

Where the dazzling fields never needed light
Of the sun by day or the moon by night:

2 Though shining millions around thee stand,
For the sake of him, who 's at thy right hand,
Oh! think of those that have cost him so dear,
Still chained in doubt, and in darkness here.

3 Our night is dreary, and dim our day;
And, if thou turnest thy face away,
We are sinful, feeble, and helpless dust;
And have none to look to and none to trust.

4 The powers of darkness are all abroad,
They own no Saviour, and fear no God;
And we are trembling in mute dismay,
Oh turn not thou thy face away!

5 Thine aid, O mighty God, we crave,
Not shortened is thine arm to save;
Afar from thee we now sojourn,
Return to us, Oh God, return.

370

P. M. GEORGE HERBERT.

Praise.

1 KING of Glory, King of Peace,
I will love thee;

And, that love may never cease,
I will move thee.

2 Thou hast granted my request;
Thou hast heard me:

Thou didst note my working breast;
Thou hast spared me.

3 Wherefore with my utmost art

I will sing thee,

And the cream of all my heart
I will bring thee.

4 Though my sins against me cried,
Thou didst clear me;

And alone, when they replied,

Thou didst hear me.

5 Seven whole days, not one in seven,
I will praise thee;

In my heart, though not in heaven,
I can raise thee.

6 Small it is, in this poor sort
To enroll thee:

E'en eternity's too short

To extol thee.

371

P. M.

WARREN ST. COL.

Triumph.

1 DAUGHTER of Zion, awake from thy sadness! Awake! for thy foes shall oppress thee no more; Bright o'er thy hills dawns the day-star of gladness, Arise! for the night of thy sorrow is o'er.

2 Strong were thy foes, but the arm that subdued them

And scattered their legions, was mightier far; They fled like the chaff from the scourge that pursued

them,

Vain were their steeds and their chariots of war. 3 Daughter of Zion, the power that hath saved thee

Extolled with the harp and the timbrel should be; Shout! for the foe is destroyed that enslaved thee, Th' oppressor is vanquished, and Zion is free.