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Could make me so divinely blest,

Or raise my cheerful passions so. 3 Amidst the wakeful hours of night,

When busy cares afflict my head, One thought of thee gives new delight,

And adds refreshment to my bed. 4 I'll lift my hands, I'll raise my voice,

While I have breath to pray or praise ; This work shall make my heart rejoice,

And fill the remnant of my days.

HYMN 435. L. M. [#]

Private and public Devotion. 1 God in his earthly temple lays

Foundations for his heavenly praise ;
And loves to see that worship rise,

Which forms his offspring for the skies. 2 His mercy every house attends,

Whence pure devotion's flame ascends,
And ever lends a gracious ear,

Where churches join in praise and prayer. 3 His blessing yields a large increase

Of wisdom, and of sacred peace ;
While ripening holiness and love

Prepare their souls for joys above.
4 Father supreme, whose sovereign sway

All worlds, all beings, must obey,
May our first wish and object be,
On earth, in heaven, to dwell with thee.

HYMN 436. 8 & 7s. M. [#]

Devotional Praise. 1 Praise to thee, thou great Creator ;

Praise to thee from every tongue; Join, my soul, with every creature,

Join the universal song. 2 For ten thousand blessings given,

For the hope of future joy, Sound his praise through earth and heaven,

Sound Jehovah's praise on high.

HYMN 437. S. M. [#]

Pure Devotion.
1 LET pure devotion rise,

And kindle to a flame,
Ascend like incense to the skies,

In our Redeemer's name. 2 His word, like drops of dew,

Descends on every heart,
Subdues and fashions us anew,

And bids our sins depart. 3 His grace our faith sustains,

And dissipates our fear,
Binds all our wounds, abates our pains,

And gives us comforts here. 4 He bids our willing eyes

Look through the gloomy shade,
To joys immortal in the skies,

That never cloy nor fade.

CONSOLATORY SUBJECTS.

HYMN 438. C. M. [b]

God the Source of Consolation.
1 WHEN 'reft of all, and hopeless care

Would sink us to the tomb,
What power shall save us from despair ?

What dissipate the gloom ?
2 No balm that earthly plants distil

Can soothe the mourner's smart ;
No mortal hand, with lenient skill,
Bind

up

the broken heart.
3 But One alone, who reigns above,

Our wo to joy can turn,
And light the lamp of life and love

That long has ceased to burn.
4 Then, O my soul, to that One flee;

To God thy woes reveal ;
His

eye alone thy wounds can see,
His power alone can heal.

HYMN 439. L. M. [6]

Death the Gate of endless Joy. 1 Why should we start and fear to die?

What timorous worms we mortals are ! Death is the gate of endless joy,

And yet we dread to enter there.

2 The pains, the groans, and dying strise,

Fright our approaching souls away ;
Still we shrink back again to life,

Fond of our prison and our clay.
3 O, if my Lord would come and meet,

My soul would stretch her wings in haste, Fly fearless through death’s iron gate,

Nor feel the terrors as she passed. 4 Jesus can make a dying bed

Feel soft as downy pillows are, While on his breast I lean my head,

And breathe my life out sweetly there.

HYMN 440. C. M. [6]

Comfort under Bereavements.
1 Why do we mourn departed friends,

Or shake at death's alarms?
'Tis but the voice that Jesus sends

To call them to his arms.
2 Are we not tending upward, too,

As fast as time can move ?
Nor would we wish the hours more slow,

To keep us from our Love.
3 Why should we tremble to convey

Their bodies to the tomb ? There the dear fesh of Jesus lay,

And left a long perfume. 4 Thence be arose, ascended high,

And showed our feet the way ;

Up to the Lord our souls shall fly

At the great rising day.
5 Then let the last loud trumpet sound,

And bid our kindred rise ;
Awake, ye nations under ground;

Ye saints, ascend the skies.

HYMN 441. L. P. M. [6]

On the Death of Friends. 1 C, God of my salvation, hear My nightly groans, my daily prayer,

That still employ my wasting breath : My soul, declining to the grave, Implores thy sovereign power to save

From dark despair and gloomy dear 2 Thy hand lies heavy on my soul, And waves of sorrow o'er me roll,

While dust and silence spread the gloom : My friends beloved, in happier days, The dear companions of iny ways,

Descend around me to the tomb. 3 As lost in lonely grief I tread The silent mansions of the dead,

Or to some thronged assembly go; Through all alike I rove alone, Forgotten here, and there unknown,

The change renews my piercing wo. 4 My friends are gone, my comforts fled, The sad remembrance of the dead

Recalls my wandering thoughts to mourn ;

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