3 The spring's sweet influence, Lord, was thine:
The plants in beauty grew:
Thou gav'st refulgent suns to shine,
And mild, refreshing dew.
4 These various mercies from above
Matured the swelling grain;
A kindly harvest crowns thy love,
And plenty fills the plain.
5 We own and bless thy gracious sway;
Thy hand all nature hails;
Seed-time nor harvest, night nor day,
Summer nor winter, fails.
Sickness healed and Sorrow removed. Ps. 30.
1 I WILL extol thee, Lord, on high;
At thy command diseases fly:
Who but a God can speak and save
From the dark borders of the grave?
2 Sing to the Lord, ye saints of his,
And tell how large his goodness is;
Let all your powers rejoice and bless,
While you record his holiness.
3 His anger but a moment stays;
His love is life and length of days:
Though grief and tears the night employ,
The morning star restores the joy.
Thanksgiving for National Prosperity.
1 How rich thy gifts, almighty King!
From thee our public blessings spring:
The extended trade, the fruitful skies,
The treasures liberty bestows,
The eternal joys the gospel shows,-
All from thy boundless goodness rise.
2 With grateful hearts, with joyful tongues,
To God we raise united songs.
Here still may God in mercy reign;
Crown our just counsels with success,
'With peace and joy our borders bless,
And all our sacred rights maintain.
Thanksgiving for National Peace. Ps. 46.
1 GREAT Ruler of the earth and skies,
A word of thine almighty breath
Can sink the world, or bid it rise;
Thy smile is life, thy frown is death.
2 When angry nations rush to arms,
And rage, and noise, and tumult reign,
And war resounds its dire alarms,
And slaughter dyes the hostile plain;
3 Thy sovereign eye looks calmly down,
And marks their course, and bounds their
power;
angry nations own, And noise and war are heard no more.
4 Then peace returns with balmy wing;
Sweet peace, with her what blessings fled!
Glad plenty laughs, the valleys sing,
Reviving commerce lifts her head.
5 Thou good, and wise, and righteous Lord!
All move subservient to thy will;
Both peace and war await thy word,
And thy sublime decrees fulfil.
6 To thee we pay our grateful songs;
Thy kind protection still implore:
O may our hearts, and lives, and tongues, Confess thy goodness, and adore.
God the Deliverer of Nations. Ps. 44.
1 O LORD, our fathers oft have told
In our attentive ears,
Thy wonders in their days performed,
And elder times than theirs.
2 'Twas not their courage, nor their sword,
To them salvation gave;
Nor strength, that from unequal force
Their fainting troops could save:
3 But thy right hand, and powerful arm,
Whose succor they implored;
Thy presence with the favored race,
Who thy great name adored.
4 As thee their God our fathers owned,
Thou art our sovereign King:
O therefore, as thou didst to them,
To us deliverance bring.
1 WHILE Sounds of war are heard around,
And death and ruin strew the ground;
To thee we look, on thee we call,
The Parent and the Lord of all.
2 Thou, who hast stamped on human kind
The image of a heaven-born mind,
And in a Father's wide embrace
Hast cherished all the kindred race;
3 Great God! whose powerful hand can bind
The raging waves, the furious wind,
O bid the human tempest cease,
And hush the maddening world to peace.
4 With reverence may each hostile land
Hear and obey that high command,
Thy Son's blest errand from above-
"My creatures, live in mutual love!"
Remembrance of our Fathers.
1 IN pleasant lands have fallen the lines
That bound our goodly heritage,
And safe beneath our sheltering vines
Our youth is blest, and soothed our age.
2 What thanks, O God, to thee are due,
That thou didst plant our fathers here;
And watch and guard them as they grew,
A vineyard to the planter dear.
3 The toils they bore, our ease have wrought;
They sowed in tears-in joy we reap;
The birthright they so dearly bought
We'll guard, till we with them shall sleep.
4 Thy kindness to our fathers shown,
In weal and woe through all the past,
Their grateful sons, O God, shall own,
While here their name and race shall last.
1 GREAT Framer of unnumbered worlds, And whom unnumbered worlds adore! Whose goodness all thy creatures share, While nature trembles at thy power:
2 Thine is the hand that moves the spheres,
That wakes the wind, and lifts the sea;
And man, who moves the lord of earth,
Acts but the part assigned by thee.
3 While suppliant crowds implore thine aid,
To thee we raise the humble cry; : :
Thine altar is the contrite heart,
Thine incense, a repentant sigh.
4 O may our land, in this her hour,
Confess thy hand, and bless the rod,
By penitence make thee her friend,
And find in thee a guardian God!
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