3 Ye fearful saints, fresh courage take;
The clouds ye so much dread
Are big with mercy, and shall break
In blessings on your head.
4 Judge not the Lord by feeble sense,
But trust him for his grace;
Behind a frowning providence
He hides a smiling face!
5 His purposes will ripen fast,
Unfolding every hour;
The bud may have a bitter taste,
But sweet will be the flower.
6 Blind unbelief is sure to err,
And scan his work in vain;
God is his own interpreter;
And he will make it plain.
HILE shepherds watched their flocks by night,
All seated on the ground,
The angel of the Lord came down,
And glory shone around.
2 Fear not, said he, (for mighty dread
Had seized their troubled mind,)
Glad tidings of great joy I bring,
To you and all mankind.
3 To you, in David's town, this day
Is born, of David's line,
The Savior, who is Christ the Lord,
And this shall be the sign:
4 The heavenly babe you there shall find
To human view display'd,
All meanly wrapped in swathing-bands,
And in a manger laid.
5 Thus spake the seraph: and forthwith
Appear'd a shining throng
Of angels, praising God on high,
Who thus address'd their song:
6 All glory be to God on high,
And to the earth be peace:
Good-will henceforth, from heaven to men, Begin and never cease.
246 AIR-"Funeral Bell.”
AR, far o'er hill and dell,
On the winds stealing
List to the tolling bell,
Mournfully pealing;
Hark! hark! it seems to say,
As melt those sounds away,
So earthly joys decay,
Whilst new their feeling.
2 Now through the charmed air,
On the winds stealing,
List to the mourner's prayer,
Solemnly bending :
Hark! hark! it seems to say,
Turn from those joys away
To those which ne'er decay,
For life is ending.
3 O'er a father's dismal tomb,
See the orphan bending,
From the solemn church-yard's gloom
Hear the dirge ascending:
Hark! hark! it seems to say,
How short ambition's sway,
Life's joys and friendship's ray
In the dark grave ending.
4 So when our mortal ties,
Death shall dissever,
Lord, may we reach the skies,
Where care comes never;
And in eternal day,
Joining the angel's lay,
To our Creator pay
Homage forever.
HEN our Fathers, long ago,
Fled from persecution's flame,
O'er the dark tempestuous sea,
Little children with them came.
Little children knelt and pray'd,
With their Sires on freedom's shore,
Rais'd the grateful notes of joy,
Louder than the ocean's roar.
2 Bursting on night's darkest hour,
Children heard the savage yell,
And the loud and fearful cry,
Of their parents, as they fell.
Children sang in later times,
Liberty's inspiring lay,
Glowing hearts in concert hailed,
Each returning festal day.
3 But a nobler, sweeter song,
We this day have met to sing,
Praise to him in Bethlehem born,
Him, our Savior and our King.
He has conquered-lo he comes,
Leading captive death and sin;
Open, open wide your gates,
Let the King of glory in.
4 Jesus, Jesus, yes! 't is he,
Evermore the children's friend,
We have one request for thee,
Teachers, faithful teachers send,
Send them through this guilty world,
To make glad th' abodes of sin,
Open, open wide your gates,
Let the King of glory in.
HOLY Father, please to heal
Children's praise and humble prayer,
Thou didst give us parents kind,
Teach us ever them to mind.
2 Food and raiment, home and friends,
All we have, thy goodness sends,
And for these, our hearts shall raise
Grateful thanks, and humble praise.
3 Guide our lives in grace and truth,
Through the tempting scene of youth,
And when here our trials cease,
O receive our souls in peace.
URS is the Sabbath school,
Its lessons may we prize,
And grow by every gospel rule,
Unto salvation wise.
2 So all our lives below,
In wisdom's pleasant ways,
The fruits of Sabbath schools shall show
The bliss of Sabbath days.
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