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Let not his praises grow

On prosperous heights alone,
But in the vales below
Let his great love be known.

Let no distress
Curb and control
My winged soul
And praise suppress.

3. Away distrustful care !

I have thy promise, Lord,
To banish all despair,
I have thy oath and word.

And therefore I
Shall see thy face,
And there thy grace
Shall magnify.

4.
With thy triumphant flock

Then I shall numbered be;
Built on th' eternal rock,
His glory we shall see.

The heavens so high
With praise shall ring,
And all shall sing
In harmony.

RICHARD BAXTER, 1615-1691. SAINTS OF GOD.

8.8.8.8.8.8.

ARTHUR SEYMOUR SULLIVAN, 1842–

A - MEN

I.

Lo,

0, God is here ! Let us adore, Heaven's hosts their noblest praises bring.

And own how dreadful is this place; Disdain not, Lord, our meaner song, Let all within us feel his power,

Who praise thee with a stammering tongue. And silent bow before his face.

3. Who know his power, his grace who prove, Being of beings, may our praise Serve him with awe, with reverence love.

Thy courts with grateful fragrance fill;

Still may we stand before thy face,
Lo, God is here ! Him day and night Still hear and do thy sovereign will;
Th' united choirs of angels sing ; To thee may all our thoughts arise,
To him enthroned above all height Ceaseless accepted sacrifice.

GERHARD TERSTEEGEN, 1697-1769.
Tr. JOHN WESLEY, 1703-1791.

2.

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G

REAT God, this sacred day of thine Thy Spirit's powerful aid impart !

Demands our souls' collected powers. O may thy word with life divine May we employ in work divine

Engage the ear and warm the heart. These solemn, these devoted hours; Then shall the day indeed be thine ; O may our souls, adoring, own

Then shall our souls, adoring, own The grace which calls us to thy throne. The grace which calls us to thy throne.

ANNE STEELE, 1716-1778.

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2.

4. All space is holy, for all space

Nor we alone : may those whose brow Is filled by thee; but human thought Shows yet no trace of human cares, Burns clearer in some chosen place,

Hereafter stand where we do now, Where thine own words of love are taught. And raise to thee still holier prayers !

ANDREWS NORTON, 1786-1853.

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