And all harmonious names in one,

My Father, thou art mine.

HYMN 525. 8 & 75. M. [#]

God's Habitation our Security. 1 CALL Jehovah thy salvation ;

Rest, my soul, beneath his shade;
In his secret habitation

Dwell, nor ever be dismayed :
There no tumult can alarm thee;

Thou shalt dread no hidden snare;
Guile nor violence can harm thee,

In eternal safeguard there.
2 Since, with pure and firm affection,

Thou on God hast set thy love,
With the wings of his protection,

He will shield thee from above :
Thou shalt call on him in trouble

He will hearken, he will save;
Here for grief reward thee double,

Crown with life beyond the grave.


HYMN 526. 7. M. [6]

Shortness of Life.
1 WHILE, with ceaseless course, the sun

Hasted through the closing year,
Many souls their race have run,

Never more to meet us here.
Gone to their eternal state,

They have done with all below;
We a little longer wait,

But how little none can know. 2 As the rapid arrow flies,

Quick the destined mark to find d;
As the lightning from the skies

Darts, and leaves no trace behind ;-
So our brief and transient days

To their end speed swiftly on;
Soon we pass life's little space,

Here to-day, to-morrow gone.
3 Thanks, for mercies past, receive;

Pardon of our sins renew ;
Teach us, Lord, by faith to live

With eternity in view.
Bless thy word to young and old;

Fill our hearts with filial love ;
And, when life's short tale is told,

Take us to thyself above.

HYMN 527. C. M. [b]

Retrospections at the Close of the Year. 1 MARK how the swift-winged minutes fly,

And hours still hasten on!
How swift the circling months run round!

How soon the year is gone!
2 Let us indulge a serious thought;

The year that's past review; What good, what evil, have we wrought?

What work have we to do?
3 How is our debt of love increased

To that sustaining Power,
Who hath upheld our feeble frame,

And blest each rolling hour.
4 For all thy favours, O our God,

Thy goodness we adore ;
Thou hast our cup with blessings filled,

And made that cup run o'er. 5 What shall befall in future life

We would not, Lord, inquire :
To be prepared for all thy will,

Be this our chief desire.

HYMN 528. C. M. [6]

Beginning or Close of the Year.
1 Teach me the measure of my days,

Thou Maker of my frame;
I would survey life's narrow space,

And learn how frail I am.

2 See the vain race of mortals move

Like shadows o'er the plain :
They rage and strive, desire and love,

But all their noise is vain.
3 What should I wish, or wait for, then,

From creatures, earth and dust?
They make our expectations vain,

And disappoint our trust.
4 Now I forbid my carnal hope,

My fond desires recall;
I give my mortal treasures up,

And make my God my all.

HYMN 529. L. M. [b]

Vanity and Shortness of Life. 1 Our life advancing to its close,

While scarce its early dawn it knows,
Swift through an empty shade we run,

And vanity and man are one. 2 How many, e'én in youth's gay flower,

Brief pageants of the noon-tide hour,
Have faded in their brightest bloom,

The early tenants of the tomb !
3 God of my fathers, here, as they,

I walk the pilgrim of a day;
A transient guest, thy works admire,

And instant to my home retire. 4 O Lord of life and seasons, we

Our sole reliance place on thee;
In thee we trust with holy fear,
And bless thee for each circling year.

HYMN 530. C. M. [#or b ]

Recovery from Sickness.
1 Lord, in thy service I would spend

The remnant of my days:
Why was this fleeting breath renewed,

But to renew thy praise ?
2 Thy own almighty power and love

Did this weak frame sustain,
When life was hovering o'er the grave,

And nature sunk with pain.
3 Into thy hands, my Saviour God,

I did my soul resign,
In firm dependence on that truth

Which made salvation mine.
4 From the dark borders of the grave

At thy command I come;
Nor would I urge a speedier flight

To my celestial home.
5 Where thou shalt settle my abode,

There would I choose to be;
For in thy presence death is life,

And earth is heaven with thee.

HYMN 531. S. M. [6]

Prayer in Sickness.
1 My Sovereign, to thy throne

With humble hope I press;
O bow thine ear, to hear the groan

Of anguish and distress.

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