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2 Beside all waters sow,

The highway furrows stock,

Drop it where thorns and thistles grow,
Scatter it on the rock.

3 The good, the fruitful ground
Expect not here nor there;
O'er hill and dale alike 't is found;
Go forth, then, everywhere.

4 And duly shall appear,

In verdure, beauty, strength,
The tender blade, the stalk, the ear,
And the full corn at length.

5 Thou canst not toil in vain;
Cold, heat, the moist and dry,
Shall foster and mature the grain
For garners in the sky.

6 Then, when the glorious end,
The day of God shall come,
The angel-reapers shall descend,
And heaven sing, "Harvest home!”


8s & 7s.

H Bearing precious seed in love,

E that goeth forth with weeping,

Never tiring, never sleeping,
Findeth mercy from above.

2 Soft descend the dews of heaven,
Bright the rays celestial shine;
Precious fruits will thus be given,
Through an influence all divine.

3 Sow thy seed, be never weary,
Let no fears thy soul annoy;
Be the prospect ne'er so dreary,
Thou shalt reap the fruits of joy.

4 Lo, the scene of verdure bright'ning!
See the rising grain appear;
Look again! the fields are whit’ning,
For the harvest-time is near.


434 (432).


LEST be the tie that binds
Our hearts in Christian love:
The fellowship of kindred minds
Is like to that above.

2 Before our Father's throne

S. M.

We pour our ardent prayers;
Our fears, our hopes, our aims are one,
Our comforts and our cares.

3 We share our mutual woes,
Our mutual burdens bear;
And often for each other flows
The sympathizing tear.

4 When we asunder part,

It gives us inward pain;

But we shall still be join'd in heart,
And hope to meet again.

5 From sorrow, toil, and pain,
And sin, we shall be free;

And perfect love and friendship reign
Through all eternity.

435 (896).

ET saints below in concert sing
With those to glory gone:

For all the servants of our King,
In earth, and heaven, are one.

2 One family-we dwell in Him-
One church above, beneath,
Though now divided by the stream
The narrow stream of death;

3 One army of the living God,
To His command we bow;

C. M.

Part of the host have cross'd the flood,
And part are crossing now.

4 E'en now to their eternal home
Some happy spirits fly;

And we are to the margin come,
And soon expect to die.

5 E'en now, by faith, we join our hands
With those that went before,

And greet the ransom❜d blessed bands
Upon th' eternal shore.

6 Lord Jesus! be our constant guide;
And when the word is given,

Bid death's cold flood its waves divide,
And land us safe in heaven.

S. M.


NOR all Thy saints, O Lord,


Who strove in Thee to live,
Who follow'd Thee, obey'd, adored,
Our grateful hymn receive.

2 For all Thy saints, O Lord,
Accept our thankful cry,
Who counted Thee their great reward,
And strove in Thee to die.

3 They all, in life or death,

With Thee, their Lord, in view, Learn'd from Thy Holy Spirit's breath

To suffer and to do.

4 For this, Thy Name we bless,
And humbly pray that we
May follow them in holiness,
And live and die in Thee.

437 (651).


OR a season call'd to part,
Let us now ourselves commend
To the gracious eye and heart
Of our ever-present Friend.

2 Jesus, hear our humble prayer!
Tender Shepherd of Thy sheep,
Let Thy mercy and Thy care
All our souls in safety keep.

3 In Thy strength may we be strong,
Sweeten ev'ry cross and pain;
Give us, if we live, ere long
In Thy peace to meet again.


4 Then, if Thou Thy help afford,
Ebenezers shall be rear'd;

And our souls shall praise the I ord
Who our poor petitions heard.

438 (434).


Áre brethren that agree!

How blest are all whose hearts unite
In bonds of piety.

2 From those celestial springs,
Such streams of comfort flow,
As no increase of riches brings,
Nor honors can bestow.

3 All in their stations move,
And each performs his part,
In all the cares of life and love,
With sympathizing heart.

4 Form'd for the purest joys,
By one desire possest,
One aim the zeal of all employs,
To make each other blest.

5 No bliss can equal theirs,

S. M.

Where such affections meet;
While praise devout, and mingled prayers
Make their communion sweet.

6 'Tis the same pleasure fills

The breast in worlds above,

Where joy, like morning-dew, distils,
And all the air is love.

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