1238 Jesus Himself stood in the midst, and saith,
Peace be unto you.-Luke 24. 36.
WEET Saviour, bless us ere we go;
Thy word into our minds instil;
And make our lukewarm hearts to glow
With lowly love and fervent will.
Through life's long day and death's
dark night,
O gentle Jesus! be our Light.
2 The day is done; its hours have run,
And Thou hast taken count of all,
The scanty triumphs grace hath won,
The broken vow, the frequent fall.
3 Grant us, dear Lord, from evil ways
True absolution and release;
And bless us, more than in past dayɛ,
With purity and inward peace.
4 Do more than pardon; give us joy,
Sweet fear, and sober liberty;
And loving hearts without alloy,
That only long to be like Thee.
5 Labour is sweet, for Thou hast toiled;
And care is light, for Thou hast cared;
Let not our works with self be soiled,
Nor in unsimple ways ensnared.
6 For all we love, the poor,
The sinful-unto Thee we call;
O let Thy mercy make us glad;
Thou art our Jesus and our All.
1239 But let us, who are of the day, be sober,
putting on the breastplate of faith and love.-1 Thess. 5. 8.
HE old year's long campaign is o'er,
Behold a new begun;
Not yet is closed the Holy War,
Not yet the triumph won.
Out of its still and deep repose
We hear the old year say—
"Go forth again to meet your foes,
Ye children of the day!
2 "Go forth! firm faith in every heart,
Bright hope on every helm,
Through that shall pierce no fiery dart,
And this no fear o'erwhelm.
Go in the Spirit and the might
Of Him who led the way,
Close with the legions of the night,
Ye children of the day."
3 So forth we go to meet the strife,
We will not fear nor fly:
Live we the holy warrior's life,
His death we hope to die;
We slumber not, that charge in view,
"Toil on, while toil ye may,
Then night shall be no night to you,
Ye children of the day!"
4 Lord God, our Glory, Three in One,
Thine own sustain, defend,
And give, though dim this earthly sun,
Thy true light to the end;
Till morning tread the darkness down,
And night be swept away,
And infinite sweet triumph crown
Thy children of the day!
1240 Thou crownest the year with Thy goodness.
1 THROUGH many changeful morrows
Of anxious pilgrim life,
Through many cares and sorrows,
Through many a bitter strife;
Still onward am I pressing,
The year is passed away,
Thanks, Lord, to Thee, and blessing,
Thou wast, in all, my stay.
2 Thou who hast well provided,
My path I leave to Thee,
Thou, Saviour, who has guided,
My portion still shall be;
To Thee I would surrender
My will, no longer mine;
Be Thou my life's defender,
My heart be only Thine.
3 In all things Thou wilt bless me,
Whilst to Thy will I bow;
Does penury distress me?
My highest good art Thou.
Is persecution vexing?
Still, Lord, Thou shieldest me.
Is this world's scorn perplexing?
I yield, and look to Thee.
4 Do I deserted languish?
Lord God, Thou'rt ever near.
My spirit filled with anguish?
Thou art my Comforter.
Does fierce disease befall me?
Submissive I will be.
Dost Thou from this world call me?
My life belongs to Thee.
5 Is heaven my habitation?
There I in glory shine;
The final condemnation-
Praise God! that is not mine;
True, if my soul were driven
To darkness, Thou wert just,
But Thou hast all forgiven,
Through Jesus Christ my trust.
6 Whate'er this year may send me,
O! keep me firm and true,
Each day Thy grace attend me,
And every morning new :
Old sins and follies leaving,
New strength by Thee supplied,
New blessings still receiving,
I take Thee for my guide.
G. W. SACER. 1635.
TR. BY F. W. GOTCH. 1880.
we trust that He will yet deliver.-2 Cor 1. 10.
FOR Thy mercy and Thy grace,
Faithful through another year,
Hear our song of thankfulness;
Father and Redeemer, hear.
2 In our weakness and distress,
Rock of Strength! be Thou our stay;
In the pathless wilderness
Be our true and living Way.
3 Keep us faithful, keep us pure,
Keep us evermore Thine own,
Help, oh! help us to endure,
Fit us for the promised crown.
4 So within Thy palace gate
We shall praise on golden strings,
Thee, the only Potentate,
Lord of lords, and King of kings.
1242 In the time of harvest.—Matt. 13. 30.
Caise the song of harvest-home :
ye thankful people, come,
All is safely gathered in
Ere the winter storms begin:
God our Maker doth provide
For our wants to be supplied;
Come to God's own temple, come,
Raise the song of harvest-home!
2 We ourselves are God's own field,
Fruit unto His praise to yield;
Wheat and tares together sown,
Unto joy or sorrow grown;
First the blade and then the ear,
Then the full corn shall appear:
Grant, O harvest Lord, that we
Wholesome grain and pure may be.
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