2 To thee shall grateful songs arise, Our Father and our Friend;
Whose constant mercies from the skies, In genial streams descend.
3 In every scene of life, thy care, In every age, we see:
And, constant as thy favors are, So let our praises be.
4 Still may thy love, in every scene, To every age, appear;
And let the same compassion deign To bless the opening year. 5 If mercy smile, let mercy bring Our wandering souls to God: In our affliction we shall sing, If thou wilt bless the rod.
Hague. Hebron. 1 GREAT God, we sing thy mighty hand; By that supported still we stand: The opening year thy mercy shows; Let mercy crown it till it close.
2 By day, by night—at home, abroad, Still we are guarded by our God; By his incessant bounty fed- By his unerring counsels led.
3 With grateful hearts the past we own; The future-all to us unknown- We to thy guardian care commit, And peaceful leave before thy feet. 4 In scenes exalted or depressed, Be thou our joy-and thou our rest; Thy goodness all our hopes shall raise, Adored through all our changing days. 5 When death shall close our earthly songs, And seal in silence mortal tongues,
Our helper, God, in whom we trust, In brighter worlds our souls shall boast.
L. M. Rotterdam. Old Hundred.
1 ETERNAL God! I bless thy name, The same thy power-thy grace the same; The tokens of thy friendly care
Begin, and close, and crown the year.
2 Supported by thy guardian hand, Amid ten thousand deaths I stand, And see, when I survey thy ways, Ten thousand monuments of praise. 3 Thus far thine arm has led me on- Thus far I make thy mercy known; And, while I tread this desert land, New mercies shall new songs demand. mf 4 My grateful voice on Jordan's shore, Shall raise one sacred pillar more; Then bear, in thy bright courts above, Inscriptions of immortal love.
Reflections at the End of the Year.
1 AND now, my soul, another year Of thy short life is past; I cannot long continue here, And this may be my last.
2 Much of my dubious life is gone, Nor will return again;
And swift my passing moments run, The few that yet remain.
3 Awake, my soul-with utmost care Thy true condition learn:
What are thy hopes?-how sure? how fair? What is thy great concern?
4 Behold, another year begins! Set out afresh for heaven; Seek pardon for thy former sins, In Christ so freely given.
5 Devoutly yield thyself to God, And on his grace depend; With zeal pursue the heavenly road, Nor doubt a happy end.
79. Benevento. Pleyel's Hymn.
1 WHILE with ceaseless course the sun
Hasted through the former year, Many souls their race have run,
Never more to meet us here: Fixed in an eternal state,
They have done with all below;
We a little longer wait;
But how little-none can know.
2 Spared to see another year, Let thy blessing meet us here; Come, thy dying work revive, Bid thy drooping garden thrive; Sun of righteousness, arise!
Warm our hearts, and bless our eyes: Let our prayer thy pity move; Make this year a time of love. 3 Thanks for mercies past receive, Pardon of our sins renew; Teach us, henceforth, how to live With eternity in view;
Bless thy word to old and young, Fill us with a Saviour's love; When our life's short race is run, May we dwell with thee above.
1 AWAKE, ye saints, and raise your eyes, And lift your voices high!
Awake, and praise that sovereign love That shows salvation nigh.
2 Swift on the wings of time it flies; Each moment brings it near: Then gladly view each closing day, And each revolving year!
3 Not many years their round shall run, Not many mornings rise,
Ere all its glories stand revealed To our admiring eyes.
4 Ye wheels of nature, speed your course; Ye mortal powers, decay;
Fast as ye bring the night of death, Ye bring eternal day.
Providence of God in the Seasons.
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 that spring, with bounteous hand, Scatters o'er the smiling land;
All that liberal autumn pours From her rich, o'erflowing stores,
3 These, to that dear Source we owe Whence our sweetest comforts flow; These, through all my happy days, Claim my cheerful songs of praise. 4 Lord, to thee my soul should raise Grateful, never-ending praise; And, when every blessing's flown, Love thee for THYSELF alone.
1 HOW pleasing is the voice Of God, our heavenly King, Who bids the frosts retire,
And wakes the lovely spring!
Bright suns arise,
The mild wind blows, Thro'earth and skies.
2 The morn, with glory crowned, His hand arrays in smiles: He bids the eve decline, Rejoicing o'er the hills:
The evening breeze
His breath perfumes;
His beauty blooms
In flowers and trees.
3 With life he clothes the spring, The earth with summer warms: He spreads th' autumnal feast, And rides on wintry storms:
His gifts divine Through all appear;
And round the year His glories shine.
1 THE flowery spring, at God's command, Perfumes the air, and paints the land: The summer rays with vigor shine, To raise the corn, and cheer the vine. 2 His hand in autumn richly pours, Through all her coasts, redundant stores; And winters, softened by his care,
No more the face of horror wear.
3 The changing seasons, months, and days Demand successive songs of praise; And be the cheerful homage paid, With morning light, and evening shade. 4 And oh, may each harmonious tongue In worlds unknown the praise prolong,
And in those brighter courts adore, Where days and years revolve no more.
1 WHEN verdure clothes the fertile vale, And blossoms deck the spray;
And fragrance breathes in every gale, How sweet the vernal day!.
p 2 Hark! how the feathered warblers sing! 'Tis nature's cheerful voice; Soft music hails the lovely spring, And woods and fields rejoice.
Aff 3 O God of nature, and of grace, Thy heavenly gifts impart ; Then shall my meditation trace Spring, blooming in my heart. 4 Inspired to praise, I then shall join Glad nature's cheerful song; And love, and gratitude divine Attune my joyful tongue.
1 GREAT God, at thy command Seasons in order rise:
Thy power and love in concert reign Through earth, and seas, and skies.
2 How balmy is the air!
How warm the sun's bright beams! While, to refresh the ground, the rains Descend in gentle streams.
3 With grateful praise we own Thy providential hand,
While grass, and herbs, and waving corn, Adorn and bless the land.
4 But greater still the gift
Of thine incarnate Son;
By him forgiveness, peace, and joy, Through endless ages run.
1 THE winter is over and gone,
The thrush whistles sweet on the spray, The turtle breathes forth her soft moan, The lark mounts and warbles away.
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