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Oh Thoa, by all thy works adored,
Blessed was the parent's eye
FOURTH SUNDAY IN LENT.
Oh, God! by whom the seed is given;
Oh, King of earth and air and sea!
LORD of mercy and of might,
Jesus, hear and save!
Jesus, hear and save! Strong, Creator, Saviour mild, Humbled to a mortal child, Captive, beaten, bound, reviled,
Jesus, hear and save! Throned above celestial things, Borne aloft on angels' wings, Lord of lords, and King of kings,
Jesus, hear and save!
Thy bounteous hand with food can bless
Soon to come to earth again, Judge of angels and of men, Hear us now, and hear us then,
Jesus, hear and save!
THIRD SUNDAY IN LENT. VIRGIx-born! we bow before thee! Blessed was the womb that bore thee! Mary, mother meek and mild, Blessed was she in her child !
FIFTH SUNDAY IN LENT. Ou Thou, whom neither time nor space
Can circle in, unseen, unknown, Nor faith in boldest flight can trace,
Save through thy Spirit and thy Son! And Thou that from thy bright abode,
To us in mortal weakness shown, Didst graft the manhood into God,
Eternal, co-eternal Son! And Thou whose unction from on high
By comfort, light, and love is known! Who, with the parent Deity,
Dread Spirit! art for ever one!
Blessed was the breast that fed thee! Blessed was the hand that led thee!
Great First and Last! thy blessing give !
And grant us faith, thy gift alone, To love and praise thee while we live,
And do whate'er thou would'st have done!
Now empty are the courts of death,
And crushed thy sting, despair :
For Jesus hath been there!
And dragged him through the sky,
He hath bound captivity!
Of saints that sing on high;
He hath won the victory!
SIXTH SUNDAY IN LENT. The Lord of might, from Sinai's brow,
Gave forth his voice of thunder ; And Israel lay on earth below,
Outstretched in fear and wonder. Beneath his feet was pitchy night, And, at his left hand and his right,
The rocks were rent asunder! The Lord of love, on Calvary,
A meek and suffering stranger, Upraised to heaven his languid eye,
In nature's hour of danger.
And met his Father's anger.
The king of all created,
On clouds of glory seated;
O'er Death and Hell defeated !
FIFTH SUNDAY AFTER EASTER.
Life nor Death shall us dissever
When to him we cry!
Their fangs against us try;
Comfort ere we die!
ASCENSION DAY, AND SUNDAY Oh more than merciful! whose bounty gave
AFTER. Thy guiltless self to glut the greedy grave! “Sır thou on my right hand, my Son !" saith the Whose heart was rent to pay thy people's price, Lord. The great High-priest at once and sacrifice! “Sit thou on my right hand, my Son! Help, Saviour, by thy cross and crimson stain,
Till in the fatal hour Nor let thy glorious blood be spilt in vain !
Of my wrath and my power, When sin with flow'ry garland hides her dart,
Thy foes shall be a footstool to thy throne ! When tyrant force would daunt the sinking heart," Prayer shall be made to thee, my Son!” saith When fleshly lust assails, or worldly care,
the Lord. Or the soul flutters in the fowler's snare, “ Prayer shall be made to thee, my Son! Help, Saviour, by thy cross and crimson stain,
From earth and air and sea, Nor let thy glorious blood be spilt in vain!
And all that in them be, And chiefest then, when nature yields the strife, Which thou for thine heritage hast won !" And mortal darkness wraps the gate of life, “ Daily be thou praised, my Son !" saith the Lord. When the poor spirit, from the tomb set free, “ Daily be thou praised, my Son! Sinks at thy feet and lifts its hope to thee
And all that live and move, Help, Saviour, by thy cross and crimson stain! Let them bless thy bleeding love, Nor let thy glorious blood be spilt in vain! And the work which thy worthiness hath done!"
Of saints that sing on high;
He hath won the victory!
To thee for help we cry;
Of dark mortality!
We ask not, Lord! thy cloven flame,
Or tongues of various tone;
With fervour in our own.
Is found on earth no more ;
In Scripture's sacred lore.
Ill demons to control;
Shall chase them from the sou).
No mystic dreams we share;
And bless thee in our prayer.
And knowledge empty prove,
With Faith, with Hope, with Love!
Room for the proud! but slow the feet
Who purple lately wore!
Who showed it not before !
That shuts to ope no more. “Lo here with us the seat,” they cry, "For him who mocked at poverty, And bade intruding conscience fly
Far from his palace door!".
TRINITY SUNDAY. Holy, holy, holy, Lord God Almighty,
Early in the morning our song shall rise to thee; Holy, holy, holy, merciful and mighty!
God in three persons, blessed Trinity! Holy, holy, holy! all the saints adore thee, Casting down their golden crowns around the
glassy sea; Cherubim and seraphim falling down before thee,
Which wert and art and evermore shall be ! Holy, holy, holy! though the darkness hide thee,
Though the eye of sinful man thy glory may
FOR THE SAME. The feeble pulse, the gasping breath,
The clenched teeth, the glazed eye, Are these thy sting, thou dreadful death!
O grave, are these thy victory ? The mourners by our parting bed,
The wise, the children, weeping nigh, The dismal pageant of the dead, —
These, these are not thy victory! But, from the much-loved world to part,
Our lust untamed, our spirit high, All nature struggling at the heart,
Which, dying, feels it dare not die ! To dream through life a gaudy dream
Of pride and pomp and luxury, Till wakened by the nearer gleam
Of burning, boundless agony; To meet o'er soon our angry king,
Whose love we past unheeded by; Lo this, O Death, thy deadliest sting!
O Grave, and this thy victory! O Searcher of the secret heart,
Who deigned for sinful man to die ! Restore us ere the spirit part,
Nor give to hell the victory!
Only thou art holy, there is none beside thee,
Perfect in power, in love, and purity ! Holy, holy, holy, Lord God Almighty! All thy works shall praise thy name in earth
and sky and sea. Holy, holy, holy, merciful and mighty!
God in three persons, blessed Trinity!
FIRST SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY.
Room for the proud! Ye sons of clay,
His chariot wheels before !
Far from his palace door!
SECOND SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY.
Long have we roamed in want and pain, If thus thy bounties gild the span
Of ruined earth and sinful man,
How glorious must the mansion be Long have our souls been tempest-tost ;
Where thy redeemed shall dwell with Thee! Low at thy feet our sins we lay; Turn not, O Lord! thy guests away!
FIFTH SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY. THIRD SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY.
CREATOR of the rolling flood!
On whom thy people hope alone;
Who cam'st, by water and by blood,
For man's offences to atone;
Who from the labours of the deep
Didst set thy servant Peter free, And the stars sang from the sky,
To feed on earth thy chosen sheep,
And build an endless church to thee.
Grant us, devoid of worldly care,
And leaning on thy bounteous hand Sank around the stranded ark,
To seek thy help in humble prayer, And the rainbow's watery span
And on thy sacred rock to stand:
And when, our livelong toil to crown,
Thy call shall set the spirit free,
To cast with joy our burthen down,
And rise, O Lord! and follow thee!
SEVENTH SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY.
When spring unlocks the flowers to paint the
laughing soil; There is joy in heaven!
When summer's balmy showers refresh the mowThere is joy in heaven!
er's toil ; When the sheep that went astray
When winter binds in frosty chains the fallow and Turns again to virtue's way;
the flood, When the soul, by grace subdued,
In God the earth rejoiceth still, and owns his Sobs it prayer of gratitude,
The birds that wake the morning, and those that
love the shade;
The winds that sweep the mountain or lull the FOURTH SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY.
drowsy glade; I PRAISED the earth, in beauty seen
The sun that from his amber bower rejoiceth on With garlands gay of varicus green; I praised the sea, whose ample field
The moon and stars, their Master's name in silent Shone glorious as a silver shield;
pomp display. And earth and ocean seemed to say, “Our beauties are but for a day !"
Shall man, the lord of nature, expectant of the sky,
Shall man, alone unthankful, his little praise deny? I praised the sun, whose chariot rolled No, let the year forsake his course, the seasons On wheels of amber and of gold;
cease to be, I praised the moon, whose softer eye Thee, Master, must we always love, and, Saviour, Gleamed sweetly through the summer sky!
honour thee. And moon and sun in answer said, “Our days of light are numbered!"
The flowers of spring may wither, the hope of
summer fade, O God! O good beyond compare!
The autumn droop in winter, the birds forsake If thus thy meaner works are fair!
the shade ;
The winds be lulled—the sun and moon forget
their old decree, But we in nature's latest hour, O Lord! will cling
TENTH SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY. JERUSALEM, Jerusalem! enthroned once on high, Thou favoured home of God on earth, thou heaven
below the sky! Now brought to bondage with thy sons, a curse
and grief to see, Jerusalem, Jerusalem! our tears shall flow for thee. Oh! hadst thou known thy day of grace, and
flocked beneath the wing Of him who called thee lovingly, thine own anoint
ed King, Then had the tribes of all the world gone up thy
pomp to see, And glory dwelt within thy gates, and all thy sons
" What ruffian hand hath stript thee bare ?
Whose fury laid thee low ?" -“Sin for my footsteps twined her snare,
And death has dealt the blow!" “Can art no medicine for thy wound,
Nor nature strength supply ?" -" They saw me bleeding on the ground,
And passed in silence by!" "But, sufferer! is no comfort near
Thy terrors to remove ?" _“There is to whom my soul was dear,
But I have scorned his love." “What if his hand were nigh to save
From endless death thy days ?” -" The soul he ransomed from the grave
Should live but to his praise !" "Rise then, O rise ! his health embrace,
With heavenly strength renewed; And such as is thy Saviour's grace,
Such be thy gratitude!”
"And who art thou that mournest me?" replied
the ruin gray, “And fear’st not rather that thyself may prove a
castaway? I am a dried and abject branch, my place is given
to thee; But wo to every barren graft of thy wild olive-tree! “Our day of grace is sunk in night, our time of
mercy spent, For heavy was my children's crime, and strange
their punishment; Yet gaze not idly on our fall, but, sinner, warned
be, Who spared not his chosen seed may send his
wrath on thee! "Our day of grace is sunk in night, thy noon is
in its prime; Oh! turn and seek thy Saviour's face in this ac
cepted time! So, Gentile, may Jerusalem a lesson prove to thee, And in the new Jerusalem thy home for ever be!"
FIFTEENTH SUNDAY AFTER TRI
Say, with richer crimson glows
THIRTEENTH SUNDAY AFTER TRI
“Who yonder on the desert heath, Complains in feeble tone ?" 'A pilgrim in the vale of death, Faint, bleeding, and alone !" " How cam'st thou to this dismal strand
Of danger, grief, and shame ?" ." From blessed Sion's holy land, By folly led, I came !"
SIXTEENTH SUNDAY AFTER TRI
Weep not, oh widow! weep not hopelessly!
Strong is the word of God to succour thee!