633 LOBE DEN HERREN. 14. 14. 4. 7. 8.

4

1. Praise thou the Lord, the Almighty, who reigneth in Glo

O3 4

O

Wake now the harp and the song! Loud let His prais - es be

2 Praise thou the Lord, who upholdeth all nature in splendor,
Bears thee on pinions of eagles, thy Help and Defender

Doth thee maintain

As thine own heart would ordain;

Soul, hath thou never perceived it?

3 Praise thou the Lord, who hath made thee in wisdom abounding,
Who doth restore thee, with kindness thy pathway surrounding;

In thy distress

Hath not the God of all grace

Spread out His wings to preserve thee?

4 Praise thou the Lord, who hath blessed thine own station and calling While from the heavens His showers of mercy are falling;

Think thou thereon,

What the Almighty hath done,

How doth His mercy run toward thee!

5 Praise thou the Lord, yea, let all that within me is praise Him,
All that hath breath, all the faithful shall join to upraise Him.

He is thy Day,

He shall still shine on thy way;—
Now with Amen end thy praising.

1. Come, Thou Fount of ev'ry blessing, Tune my heart to sing Thy grace;

639 WAREHAM. L. M.

William Knapp, 1738.

1. O God, be-neath Thy guid-ing hand, Our ex iled fathers crossed the sea;

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Ob

And when they trod the wintry strand, With prayer and psalm they worshipped Thee.

2 Thou heard'st, well pleased, the song, the
prayer-

Thy blessing came; and still its power
Shall onward through all ages bear
The memory of that holy hour.

3 What change! through pathless wilds no

more

The fierce and naked savage roams; Sweet praise, along the cultured shore,

Breaks from ten thousand happy homes. 3 Thus present still, though now unseen,

4 Laws, freedom, truth, and faith in God Came with those exiles o'er the waves, And where their pilgrim feet have trod, The God they trusted guards their graves.

5 And here Thy Name, O God of love,
Their children's children shall adore,
Till these eternal hills remove,

And spring adorns the earth no more.
Rev. Leonard Bacon, 1838.

638 STUMMER. L. M.

2 Thy Name we bless almighty God,
For all the kindness Thou hast shown
To this fair land the pilgrims trod,-
This land we fondly call our own.

3 Here freedom spreads her banner wide,
And casts her soft and hallowed ray;
Here Thou our fathers' steps didst guide
In safety through their dangerous way.

When brightly shines the prosperous
day,

Be thoughts of Thee a cloudy screen,
To temper the deceitful ray!

4 And O, when gathers on our path,
In shade and storm, the frequent
night

Be Thy long-suffering, slow to wrath,
A burning and a shining light.

Sir Walter Scott, 1820.