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Defend, O God! with guardian hand,
The laws and ruler of our land,

And grant our church Thy grace to stand

In faith and unity!

The Spirit's help of Thee we crave,

That Thou, whose blood was shed to save,
Mayst, at Thy second coming, have

A flock to welcome Thee!

TWENTY-FOURTH SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY.

To conquer and to save, the Son of God
Came to His own in great humility,
Who wont to ride on cherub-wings abroad,
And round Him wrap the mantle of the sky.
The mountains bent their necks to form His road;
The clouds dropt down their fatness from on high;
Beneath His feet the wild waves softly flow'd,
And the wind kiss'd His garment tremblingly!

The grave unbolted half his grisly door,

(For darkness and the deep had heard His fame,
Nor longer might their ancient rule endure ;)
The mightiest of mankind stood hush'd and tame :
And, trooping on strong wing, His angels came
To work His will, and kingdom to secure :
No strength He needed save His Father's name;
Babes were His heralds, and His friends the poor.

FOR ST. JAMES'S DAY.

THOUGH sorrows rise, and dangers roll
In waves of darkness o'er my soul,
Though friends are false and love decays,
And few and evil are my days,
Though conscience, fiercest of my foes,
Swells with remember'd guilt my woes,
Yet ev❜n in nature's utmost ill,

I love Thee, Lord! I love Thee still!

Though Sinai's curse, in thunder dread,
Peals o'er mine unprotected head,
And memory points with busy pain,
To grace and mercy given in vain,
Till nature, shrinking in the strife,
Would fly to hell to 'scape from life,
Though every thought has power to kill,
I love Thee, Lord! I love Thee still!

Oh, by the pangs Thyself hast borne,
The ruffian's blow, the tyrant's scorn;
By Sinai's curse, whose dreadful doom
Was buried in Thy guiltless tomb :
By these my pangs, whose healing smart
Thy grace hath planted in my heart;
I know, I feel, Thy bounteous will!

Thou lovest me, Lord! Thou lovest me still!

MICHAELMAS DAY.

OH Captain of God's host, whose dreadful might Led forth to war the armed seraphim,

And from the starry height,

Subdued in burning fight,

Cast down that ancient dragon, dark and grim!

Thine angels, Christ! we laud in solemn lays, Our elder brethren of the crystal sky, Who, 'mid Thy glory's blaze,

The ceaseless anthem raise,

And gird Thy throne in faithful ministry!

We celebrate their love, whose viewless wing
Hath left for us so oft their mansion high,
The mercies of their King

To mortal saints to bring,

Or guard the couch of slumbering infancy.

But Thee, the First and Last, we glorify,

Who when Thy world was sunk in death and sin,
Not with Thine hierarchy,

The armies of the sky,

But didst with Thine own arm the battle win.

Alone didst pass the dark and dismal shore,
Alone didst tread the wine-press, and alone,
All glorious in thy gore,

Didst light and life restore,

To us who lay in darkness and undone!

Therefore, with angels and archangels, we To Thy dear love our thankful chorus raise, And tune our songs to Thee,

Who art, and art to be,

And endless as Thy mercies sound Thy praise!

IN TIMES OF DISTRESS AND DANGER.

OH God, that madest earth and sky, the darkness and the day, Give ear to this Thy family, and help us when we pray ! For wide the waves of bitterness around our vessel roar, And heavy grows the pilot's heart to view the rocky shore !

The cross our Master bore for us, for Him we fain would bear, But mortal strength to weakness turns, and courage to despair! Then mercy on our failings, Lord! our sinking faith renew! And when Thy sorrows visit us, oh send thy patience too!

BEFORE A COLLECTION MADE FOR THE SOCIETY FOR THE PROPAGATION OF THE GOSPEL.

FROM Greenland's icy mountains,

From India's coral strand,
Where Afric's sunny fountains

Roll down their golden sand;

From many an ancient river,
From many a palmy plain,
They call us to deliver

Their land from error's chain!

What though the spicy breezes
Blow soft o'er Ceylon's isle,
Though every prospect pleases,
And only man is vile:
In vain with lavish kindness

The gifts of God are strown,
The heathen in his blindness

Bows down to wood and stone!

Can we, whose souls are lighted
With Wisdom from on high,
Can we to men benighted
The lamp of life deny ?
Salvation! oh, Salvation!
The joyful sound proclaim,

Till each remotest nation

Has learn'd Messiah's name!

Waft, waft, ye winds, his story,
And you, ye waters, roll,
Till like a sea of glory

It spreads from pole to pole!
Till o'er our ransom'd nature,
The Lamb for sinners slain,
Redeemer, King, Creator,
In bliss returns to reign!

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