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HYMN 20. P. M. "HOU pow'r supreme, by whose command we live!

The grateful tribute of our praise receive: To thy indulgence we our being owe,

And all the joys which from that being flow. 2. Thy skill our elemental clay refip’d,

And all its various parts in order join’d:
With perfect symmetry compos’d the whole,

And stamp'd thy sacred image on the soul: 3. A soul, suseeptible of endless joy,

Whose frame nor force, nor time shall e’er destroy ; Which shall survive, though nature claim our breath,

And bid defiance to the darts of death.
4. How shall our hearts their grateful sense reveal,

When all the energy of words must fail ?
O may its influence in our lives appear,
And ev'ry action prove our thanks sincere.

HYMN 21. s. M.
1.
MY

Maker and my King !

To thee my all I owe.
Thy sov'reign bounty is the spring,

From whence my blessings flow.
2. Thou ever good and kind !

A thousand reasons move,
A thousand obligations bind

My heart to grateful love.
13. The creature of thy hand,

On thee alone I live.
My God, thy benefits demand

More praise than tongue can gire.
4.0 what can I impart,

When all was thine before ?
Thy love demands a thankful heart :

T'he gift, alas ! how poor!
5. Shall I withhold thy due ?

And shall my passions rove?
Lord, make me to thy service true,
And fill me with thy love.

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6. O let thy grace inspire

My soul with strength divine ;
Let all my pow’rs to thee aspire,
And all my days be thine.

HYMN 22. s. M.
BLESS the Lord, my soul !

Let all within me join,
And aid my tongue to bless his name,

Whose favours are divine. 2.0 bless the Lord, my soul !

Nor let his mercies lie
Forgotten in unthankfulness,

And without praises die. 3. 'Tis he forgives thy sins ;

'Tis he relieves thy pain ;
'Tis he that heals thy sicknesses,

And gives thee strength again. 4. He crowns thy life with love,

When rescu'd from the grave;
He, that redeem'd our souls from death,

Hath boundless pow'r to save. 5. He fills the

poor

with good;
He gives the suff'rers rest.
The Lord hath justice for the proud,

And mercy for th' oppress’d. 6. His wondrous works and ways

He made by Moses known;
But sent the world his truth and grace
By his beloved Son.

HYMN 23. L. M. 1. G (REAT source of life, our souls confess

The various riches of thy grace; Crown'd with thy mercy, we rejoice,

And in thy praise exalt our voice.
2. By thee the vault of heav'n was spread:

By thee the earth's foundations laid;
And all the scenes of man's abode
Proclaim a wise and gracious God.

3. Thy quick’ning hand restores our breath,

When trembling on the verge of death : Gently it wipes away our tears,

And lengthens life to future years. 4. Our lives are sacred to the Lord,

Kindled by him, by him restor'd ;
And, while our hours renew their race,

May sin no more these hours disgrace! 5. So when, at length, by thee we're led

Through unknown regions of the dead,
With hope triumphant may we move
To scenes of nobler life above.

HYMN 24. L. M.
1. IN glad amazement, Lord, I stand,

Amidst the bounties of thy hand. How numberless these bounties are !

How rich, how various, and how fair! 2. But 0! what poor returns I make!

What lifeless thanks I pay thee back!
Lord ! I confess with humble shame,

My off'rings scarce deserve the name. 3. Fain would my lab'ring heart devise,

To bring some pobler sacrifice.
It sinks beneath the mighty load:

What shall I render to my God? 4. To him I consecrate my praise,

And vow the remnant of my days,
Yet, what, at best, can I pretend,

Worthy such gifts from such a friend? 5. In deep abasement, Loril, I see,

My emptiness and poverty.
Enrich my soul with grace divine,

And make me worthier to be thine. 6. Give me at length an angel's tongue,

That heav'n may echo with my song:
The theme too great for time shall be
The joy of long eternity.

HYMN 25. s. M. 1. O Lord, our heav’nly King !

Thy name is all divine. Thy glories round the earth are spread,

And o’er the heav’ns they shine. %. When to thy works above

I raise my wond'ring eyes, And see the moon thy hands have form’d

In all her splendour rise : 3. When I curvey the stars,

That fill the vaulted sky:Lord, what is man, that he should stand

In thy regard so high? 9. Or what the son of man,

That he should be thy care, And in the bounties of thy grace

Possess so large a share ? 5. Tho' offspring of the dust,

(How vast the debt we owe !) Next to thine angels are we plac'd,

And lords of all below. 6. Appointed for our use,

The subject beasts obey,
And birds that cut the air with wings,

And fish that cleave the sea. 7. How rich thy favours are !

How wondrous are thy ways ! Of dust and worms thy pow'r can frame, A monument of praise.

HYMN 26. C. M. LMIGHTY Father! Gracious Lord !

Kind Guardian of my days! Thy mercies let my heart record

In songs of grateful praise.
2. In life's first dawn, my tender frame

Was thy indulgent care,
Long ere I could pronounce thy name,

Or breathe the infant pray’r.
3. When reason with my stature grew,

How weak her brightest ray!

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How little of my God I knew!

How apt from thee to stray!
4. Around my path what dangers rose !

What snares o'erspread my road!
No pow'r could guard me from my foes,

But my Preserver, God.
5. When life hung trembling on a brcath,

"Twas thy unceasing love That sav'd me from impending death,

And bade my fears remove. 6. Lord, though this mortal frame decays,

And earthly comfort flies; Complete the wonders of thy grace,

And raise me to the skies.
7. Then shall my joyful pow’rs unite

In more exalted lays,
And join the happy sons of light
In everlasting praise.

HYMN 27. c. M. 1. M'God, what blessings round me shone,

! How many pass'd almost unknown,

Or unregarded by!
2. Each rolling year new favours brought

From thy exhaustless store.
But, ah ! in vain my lab’ring thought

Would count thy mercies o’er:
3. While sweet reflection, thro' my days,

Thy bounteous hand would trace ;
Still dearer blessings claim my praise,

The blessings of thy grace.
4. Yes, I adore thee, gracious Lord !

For favours more divine;
That I have known thy sacred word,

Where all thy glories shine.
5. My highest praise, alas, how poor!

How cold my warmest love! My Father! teach me to adore As angels do above,

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