HYMN 67. L. M. [#] God of the Seasons. 1 JEHOVAH bids the morning ray 2 Seasons and times obey his voice; To see the earth made soft with showers, Laden with fruit, and dressed in flowers. 3 "Tis from his watery stores on high He gives the thirsty land supply; His silent dews enrich the ground, And shed the hopes of harvest round. 4 The desert grows a fruitful field; Abundant fruit the valleys yield; The vales resound with cheerful voice, Till distant hills repeat their joys. 5 His works pronounce his power divine; On every field his glories shine; Through every month his gifts appear, And joy and goodness crown the year. HYMN 68. C. M. [#] God rules the Seasons. 1 WITH songs and honours sounding loud, Over the heavens he spreads his cloud, 2 He sends his showers of blessing down, To cheer the plains below; He makes the wood the mountains crown, 3. His steady counsels change the face He bids the sun cut short his race, 4 He sends his sun to melt the snow,- 5 The changing wind, the flying cloud, With songs and honours sounding loud, HYMN 69. S. M. [#] 1 GOOD is the heavenly King, 2 The clouds, when raised on high, 3 The ridges of the field Permit the corn to spring; 4 The hills, on every side, Rejoice at falling showers: The meadows, dressed in all their pride, 5 The clods, refreshed with rain, The thirsty grounds look green again, 6 The months thy goodness crowns; HYMN 70. 6 1. L. M. [#] The Seasons. I Look through creation, and behold In every leaf, in every flower: 2 Seasons, revolving in their spheres, A thousand rural beauties bring; But loveliest of the group appears The green-dressed beauty, charming Spring; 3 Winter is death, when Nature mourns But Spring revives their hopes again, And breathes new life through every vein. 4 How emblematic of that day, The glorious resurrection morn, The soul, redeemed, shall burst its tomb, GOD'S WORKS PRAISE HIM. HYMN 71. H. M. [#] Glory of God's Works. 1 YE realms below the skies, 2 Give glory to the Lord, Ye kindreds of the earth; And show his wonders forth, Till heathen tongues his grace proclaim, 3 "Tis he the mountains crowns "Tis he old ocean bounds, And heaves her roaring tide; He swells the tempests on the main, Or breathes the zephyr o'er the plain. 4 Still let the waters roar, As round the earth they roll; They sound, from pole to pole. 5 His praise, ye worlds on high, When silent night appears. HYMN 72. S. M. [#] Praise to the Creator. 1 ALMIGHTY MAKER, God, 2 Nature in every dress Her humble homage pays; In thousand forms her ways express 3 My soul would rise and sing To her Creator too : Fain would my tongue adore my King, |