O God, our Help in Ages past.

GOD, our help in ages past,
Our hope for years to come,
Our shelter from the stormy blast,
And our eternal home :

Under the shadow of Thy throne
Thy saints have dwelt secure ;
Sufficient is Thine arm alone,
And our defence is sure.

Before the hills in order stood,
Or earth received her frame,
From everlasting Thou art God,
To endless years the same.

A thousand ages in Thy sight

Are like an evening gone,

Short as the watch that ends the night

Before the rising sun.

O God, our help in Ages past.

Time, like an ever rolling stream,

Bears all its sons away;

They fly forgotten, as a dream
Dies at the opening day.

O God, our help in ages past,
Our hope for years to come,

Be Thou our Guard while life shall last,

And our eternal home!

ISAAC WATTS.

(Sung at the funeral of BISHOP BROOKS.)

170

Come Quickly, Sweetest Lord.

EVER weather-beaten sail more willing bent to

shore,

Never tired pilgrim's limbs affected slumber

more,

Than my wearied sprite now longs to fly out of my troubled breast.

Oh, come quickly, sweetest Lord, and take my soul to rest!

Ever blooming are the joys of heaven's high Paradise, Cold age deafs not there our ears, nor vapor dims our eyes;

Glory there the sun outshines; whose beams the Blessed only see.

Oh, come quickly, glorious Lord, and raise my sprite

to Thee!

THOMAS CAMPION.