1 The Saviour, when to heav'n he rose,
In splendid triumph o'er his foes,
Scatter'd his gifts on men below,
And wide his royal bounties flow.
2 Hence sprang the Apostle's honor'd name,
Sacred beyond heroic fame;
Hence dictates the Prophetic sage,
And hence the evangelic page.
3 In lower forms to bless our eyes,
Pastors from hence and teachers rise;
Who, though with feebler rays they shine,
Still mark a long extended line.
4 So shall the bright succession run
Through all the courses of the sun;
Whilst unborn churches by their care,
Shall rise and flourish large and fair.
5 Head of the Church! their hearts shall know
The spring whence all their blessings flow;
Pastors and people shout thy praise,
Through the long round of endless days.
THANKSGIVING DAY.
1 Praise to God, immortal praise,
For the love that crowns our days;
Bounteous source of every joy,
Let thy praise our tongues employ.
2 All the blessings of the fields,
All the stores the garden yields,
Flocks that whiten all the plain,
Yellow sheaves of ripen'd grain,
3 Clouds that drop their fatt'ning dews,
Suns that genial warmth diffuse,
All the plenty summer pours,
Autumn's rich o'erflowing stores,
4 These to thee our God we owe,
Source whence all our blessings flow;
And for these our souls shall raise
Grateful vows and solemn praise.
5 Yet should rising whirlwinds tear
From its stem the rip'ning ear;
Though the sick'ning flock should fall,
And the herd desert the stall;
6 Should thy alter'd hand restrain
Th' early and the latter rain;
Blast each op'ning bud of joy,
And the rising year destroy;
7 Still to thee our souls shall raise
Grateful vows and solemn praise;
And when every blessing's flown,
Love thee for thyself alone.
1 Praise to thee, thou great Creator!
Praise be thine from every tongue;
Join, my soul, with every creature,
Join the universal song.
2 Father! Source of all compassion!
Pure, unbounded grace is thine:
Hail the God of our salvation!
Praise him for his love divine.
3 For ten thousand blessings given,
For the hope of future joy,.
Sound his praise through earth and heaven, Sound Jehovah's praise on high.
4 Joyfully on earth adore him,
Till in heaven our song we raise; There enraptur'd fall before him, Lost in wonder, love, and praise.
1 My God, thy boundless love I praise;
How bright on high its glories blaze!
How sweetly bloom below!
It streams from thy eternal throne;
Through heav'n its joys forever run,
And o'er the earth they flow.
2 'Tis love that paints the purple morn,
And bids the clouds, in air upborne,
Their genial drops distil;
every vernal beam it glows;
It breathes in every gale that blows,
And glides in ev'ry rill.
3 It robes in cheerful green the ground,
And pours its flow'ry beauties round,
Whose sweets perfume the gale;
Its bounties richly spread the plain,
The blushing fruit, the golden grain,
And smile on every vale.
4 Then let the love which makes me blest,
With cheerful praise inspire my breast,
And ardent gratitude;
And all my thoughts and passions tend,
To thee my Father and my friend,
My soul's eternal good.
1 Dread Jehovah! God of nations,
From thy temple in the skies,
Hear thy people's supplications;
Now for their deliv'rance rise:
Lo! with deep contrition turning,
Humbly at thy feet we bend;"
Fasting, praying, weeping, mourning,
Hear us, spare us, and defend.
2 Though our sins our hearts confounding,
Long and loud for vengeance call,
Thou hast mercy more abounding;
Jesus' blood can cleanse them all:
Let that mercy veil transgression,
Let that blood our guilt efface;
Save thy people from oppression,
Save from spoil thy holy place.
3 Hear, O God, the vows we render;
With our hosts to battle
go;
Shield the head of each defender,
And confound the haughty foe:
So when ceas'd the battle's raging,
Thine shall be the victor's praise;
And in holy bonds engaging,
We will serve thee all our days.
CHARITY SERMONS.
1 Jesus my Lord, how rich thy grace!
Thy bounties how complete!
How shall I count the matchless sum,
Or pay the mighty debt.
2 High on a throne of radiant light,
Dost thou exalted shine;
What can my poverty bestow,
When all the worlds are thine?
2 But thou hast brethren here below,
The partners of thy grace,
And wilt confess their humble names
Before thy Father's face.
4 In them thou may'st be cloth'd and fed,
And visited and cheer'd;
And in their accents of distress,
Thy suppliant voice is heard.
5 Thy face with rev'rence and with love,
We in thy poor would see;
O may we rather beg our bread,
Than keep it back from thee.
1 Lord, thy care for all providing
Warni'd thy faithful prophet's tongue; Who the lot of all deciding,
Thus to ancient Israel sung.
2 When thy harvest yields thee pleasure,
Thou the golden sheaf shalt bind;
To the poor belongs the treasure,
Of the scatter'd ear behind.
These thy God ordains to bless
The widow and the fatherless.
3 When thine olive plants increasing
Pour their plenty o'er thy plain,
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