3 My heart shall triumph in the Lord,
And bless his works, and bless his word;
His works of grace, how bright they shine!
How deep his counsels, how divine!

4 Then shall I see, and hear, and know
All I desired or hoped below,

And every power find sweet employ
In that eternal world of joy.

54. S. M.

EPISCOPAL COLL.

"The Church of the Living God.” 1 I LOVE thy Church, O God! Her walls before thee stand Dear as the apple of thine eye, And graven on thy hand.

2 For her my tears shall fall;
For her my prayers ascend:
To her my toils and cares be given,
Till toils and cares shall end.

3 Beyond my highest joy

I prize her heavenly ways,
Her sweet communion, solemn vows,
Her hymns of love and praise.

4 Jesus! thou Friend divine,
Our Saviour and our King,
Thy hand from every snare and foe
Shall great deliverance bring.

5 Sure as thy truth shall last,
To Zion shall be given

The brightest glories earth can yield,
And brighter bliss of heaven.

55.

C. P. M.

MERRICK.

The Sabbath and the Earthly Temple.

1 THE Sabbath morn, my God, is come,
That calls me to thy sacred dome,
Thy presence to adore:

My feet the summons shall attend,
With willing steps thy courts ascend,
And tread the hallowed floor.

2 With holy joy I hail the day,
That warns my thirsting soul away;
What transports fill my breast!
For, lo! my great Redeemer's power
Unfolds the everlasting door,

And leads me to his rest!

3 Hither, from earth's remotest end,
Lo! the redeemed of God ascend,
Their tribute hither bring;
Here, crowned with everlasting joy,
In hymns of praise their tongues employ,
And hail the immortal King.

The Lord's Day. Ps. 118.

1 THIS is the day the Lord hath made;
He calls the hours his own;
Let heaven rejoice, let earth be glad,
And praise surround the throne.

2 Hosanna to the anointed King,
To David's holy Son;

Help us, O Lord; descend and bring
Salvation from the throne.

3 Blest be the Lord, who comes to men,
With messages of grace,-

Who comes in God his Father's name,
To save our sinful race.

4 Hosanna in the highest strains
The church on earth can raise,

The highest heavens, in which he reigns,
Shall give him nobler praise.

"I will go to the Altar of God."

1 IF, in a temple made with hands,
God speaketh still his high commands,
Let me to that blest place repair,
That I may learn my duty there.

2 If, in the ailments of the soul,
There be a power that makes it whole,
Let me to that pure fount apply,
Lest the neglected spirit die.

3 If there be still a sacrifice,

That may to God with favour rise,
Let me present a contrite heart,
Ere from this temple. I depart.

4 If, in the dread of death's dark hour,
The word of life hath soothing power,
To hear that word, my spirit, haste,
Ere yet the pains of death I taste.

5 Where God would have the off'ring made, There be the willing tribute paid,

Till to his name I consecrate
The worship of an endless state.

1 WELCOME, delightful morn, Sweet day of sacred rest;

I hail thy kind return,

Lord, make these moments blest: From the low train of mortal toys, I soar to reach immortal joys.

2 Now may the King descend, And fill his throne of grace; Thy sceptre, Lord, extend,

While saints address thy face; Let sinners feel thy quickening word, And learn to know and fear the Lord.

3 Descend, celestial Dove,

With all thy quickening powers; Disclose a Saviour's love,

And bless these sacred hours: Then shall my soul new life obtain, Nor Sabbaths be enjoyed in vain.

59.

C. M. MRS. BARBAULD.

The Resurrection on the First Day of the Week. 1 AGAIN the Lord of life and light

Awakes the kindling ray; Unseals the eyelids of the morn, And pours increasing day.

2 0, what a night was that, which wrapt The heathen world in gloom!

O what a sun, which broke, this day, Triumphant from the tomb!

3 This day be grateful homage paid,
And loud hosannas sung;

Let gladness dwell in every heart,
And praise on every tongue.

4 Ten thousand differing lips shall join
To hail this welcome morn;

Which scatters blessings from its wings
To nations yet unborn.

The Pleasure of Public Worship. Ps. 84.
1 How pleasant, how divinely fair,
O Lord of Hosts, thy dwellings are!
With long desire my spirit faints
To meet the assemblies of thy saints.
2 Blest are the saints, who sit on high,
Around thy throne of majesty ;
Thy brightest glories shine above,
And all their work is praise and love.
3 Blest are the souls who find a place
Within the temple of thy grace;
There they behold thy gentler rays,
And seek thy face and learn thy praise.

4 Blest are the men whose hearts are set
To find the way to Zion's gate;

God is their Strength; and through the road
They lean upon their Helper, God.

5 Cheerful they walk with growing strength, Till all shall meet in heaven at length; Till all before thy face appear,

And join the nobler worship there.