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THE FIFTH SUNDAY AFTER EPIPHANY.

PSALM XX.

Matt. xiii. 24.

(s. и.}

1 WITH heart and lips unfeign'd,

We praise Thee for Thy word;

We bless Thee for the joyful sound
Of our Redemption, LORD.

2 Like as the kindly rain

Returns not back to heav'n,

But cheers, and fruitful makes the earth,
The end for which 'twas giv'n.

3 So let Thy holy word

Accomplish Thy design;

Sow seeds of truth in ev'ry heart,

And consecrate us Thine.

4 Water the sacred seed,

And give it great encrease;
Nor let the tares and weeds of sin
Prevent the fruit of peace.

5 In knowledge bid us grow,
For Thee our lives employ,
And let the ripen'd harvest yield
Our souls immortal joy.

Psalm 1xvii.c.- -CXXXV.

THE SIXTH SUNDAY AFTER EPIPHANY.

PSALM XXXI.

Matt. xxiv. 29.

(P. M. 8, 7.)

1 DAY of judgment! day of wonders!

Hark! the trumpet's awful sound,

Louder than ten thousand thunders,
Shakes the vast creation round!
How the summons

Will the guilty heart confound!
2 See the Judge our nature wearing,
Cloath'd in majesty divine!
Saints who long for His appearing,

Then shall shout "this God is mine"
Gracious SAVIour,

Own me in that day for Thine!

3 Lo 'tis He, his saints desire,

Come for his redeem'd below!
Come to join us with His choir?
Come to make our joys o'erflow,
Palms of vict'ry

Crowns of glory to bestow!
4 Coming in the clouds of heaven,
Now His pow'r and glory see
Saints, exult, to you 'tis given
With Him evermore to be,
Hallelujah!

Praise to all eternity.

Psalm lxxxiv. ciii. cxxxvi, 160.

SEPTUAGESIMA SUNDAY.

19X91

PSALM XXIII.

1 WHILE saints above in perfect strains

Their loud Hosannas raise,

We join the chorus to the LAMB,
And chaunt His sacred praise.

2 The blissful theme with joy repeat,
Proclaim His wond'rous love,

Ye saints, who militate below,
And who adore above.

3 Ye heav'nly choir, who round the throne
In humble homage bow:
At humble distance, lo, we join,
Our highest notes with you.

4 Worthy the LAMB enthron'd on high,
All homage to receive,

More than our pow'is can e'er return,
Or thoughts can e'er conceive.

5 Accept our praise 'till we adore,
With all Thy hosts above;

And in grand chorus round Thy throne,
Proclaim that GOD is LOVE.

Psalm xxvii, xcix. civ. cxxxviii.

D

(C, M.)

SEXAGESIMA SUNDAY.

(L. M.)

W

PSALM XXIV.

Isaiah lviii. 13.

WELCOME blest Day, of days the best,
Design'd of GOD for holy rest;
When to His house His saints repair,
To offer solemn praise and prayer.
2 This is employment all divine!
My soul, the blest assembly join;
Go, bow before Thy Maker's Throne,
And all thy SAVIOUR's glories own,
3 Forget all earthly things and cares,
And soar by faith above the stars;
On wings of strong devotion rise,
And feast on fruits of Paradise.

4 Glory to God, whose love assigns
This sacred rest for wearied minds;
Oh! that our pray'rs and praise may rise,
As grateful incense, to the skies.

5 In holy duties may this day,

In holy pleasures pass away!

And hail that day, while this we spend,
That Sabbath, which will never end.
6 Hail best of days, that God ordain'd,
That man for heaven might be train'd!
Be this, my soul, thy day of rest;
And thus prepare thee to be blest.

Psalm xxxiv. exiii, cxxxix, cxlv. 158.

QUINQUAGESIMA SUNDAY.

PSALM XXVI.

1 Cor. xiii.

1 THO' perfect eloquence adorn

With sweet persuasive tongue,

Though man could speak in higher strains
Than ever angel sung:

2 Though liberal gifts the hand imparts;
Though faith could rocks remove,

It profits nothing if devoid

Of charity and love.

3 Love suffers long, Love envies not,
True love is ever kind;

Love glows with social tenderness;
Love feels for all mankind.

4 Love still shall hold an endless reign,
In earth and heav'n above;

(c. M.)

When tongues shall cease, and prophets fail,
And ev'ry gift but love.

5 Now darkly seen, as through a glass,
Are Go and truth beheld;

Then shall we see as face to face,

And GoD shall be unveil'd.

6 Faith, hope and love now dwell on earth,
And earth by them is blest;
But faith and hope must yield to love,
Of all the graces best.

7 Hope shall to full fruition rise,
Faith lost in sight above :

But love shall triumph to the end;
The heav'n of heav'ns is Love.

Psalm xlcv. cxxvi. cxlviii. 152.

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