God, our Maker, doth provide
For our wants to be supplied;
Come to God's own temple, come;
Raise the song of harvest-home!
2 What is earth but God's own field,
fruit unto His praise to yield P
Wheat and tares therein are sown,
Unto joy or sorrow grown;
Ripening with a wondrous power,
Till the final harvest-hour:
Grant, O Lord of life, that we
Holy grain and pure may be.
3 For we know that Thou wilt come,
And wilt take Thy people home;
From Thy field wilt purge away
All that doth offend, that day,
And Thine angels charge, at last
In the fire the tares to cast;
But the fruitful ears to store
In Thy garner evermore.
4 Come then, Lord of mercy, come,
Bid us sing Thy harvest-home!
Let Thy saints be gathered in,
Free from sorrow, free from sin;
All upon the golden floor,
Praising Thee for evermore;
Come, with thousand angels, come;
Bid us sing Thy harvest-home!
247 7. 7.7.7.
1 T)RAISE, oh praise our God and King! _L Hymns of adoration sing; For His mercies still endure, Ever faithful, ever sure.
2 Praise Him that He made the sun Day by day his course to run;
For His mercies still endure,
Ever faithful, ever sure:
3 And the silver moon by night,
Shining with her gentle light;
For His mercies still endure,
Ever faithful, ever sure:
4 Praise Him that He gave the rain To mature the swelling grain;
For His mercies still endure,
Ever faithful, ever sure:
5 And hath bid the fruitful field Crops of precious increase yield;
For His mercies still endure,
Ever faithful, ever sure.
6 Praise Him for our harvest-store, He hath filled the garner-floor;
For His mercies still endure,
Ever faithful, ever sure.
7 And for richer food than this,
Pledge of everlasting bliss;
For His mercies still endure,
Ever faithful, ever sure.
8 Glory to our bounteous King!
Glory let creation sing!
Glory to the Father, Son,
Sraratg.
248 7. 7. 7. 7. 7. 7.
1 "ITTHAT our Father does is well;
VV Blessed truth His children tell!
Though He send, for plenty, want,
Though the harvest-store be scant,
Yet we rest upon His love,
Seeking better things above.
2 What our Father does is well;
Shall the wilful heart rebel?
If a blessing He withhold
In the field, or in the fold,
Is it not Himself to be
All our store eternally?
3 What our Father does is well;
Though He sadden hill and dell,
Upward yet our praises rise
For the strength His word supplies;
He has called us sons of God,
Can we murmur at His rod?
4 What our Father does is well;
May the thought within us dwell;
Though nor milk nor honey flow
In our barren Canaan now,
God can save us in our need,
God can bless us, God can feed.
5 Therefore unto Him we raise ,
Hymns of glory, songs of praise;
To the Father, and the Son,
And the Spirit, Three in One,
Honour, might, and glory be,
Now, and through eternity.
249
[N grief and fear, to Thee, O Lord,
We now for succour fly:
Thine awful judgments are abroad;
Oh shield us, lest we die.
2 The fell disease on every side
Walks forth with tainted breath;
And pestilence, with rapid stride,
Bestrews the land with death.
3 Oh look with pity on the scene
Of sadness and of dread,
And let Thine angel stand between
The living and the dead.
4 With contrite hearts to Thee, our King,
We turn, who oft have strayed;
Accept the sacrifice we bring,
And let the plague be stayed.
Mar.
250 c. M.
1 fl REAT King of nations, hear our prayer, VI While at Thy feet we fall,
And humbly, with united cry,
To Thee for mercy call.
2 Our guilt we own, but grace is Thine;
Oh turn us not away!
But hear us, Lord, for Jesu's sake,
And help us when we pray.
3 Our fathers' sins were manifold,
And ours no less we own;
Yet wondrously from age to age
Thy goodness hath been shown:
4 When dangers, like a stormy sea,
Beset our country round,
To Thee we looked, to Thee we cried,
And help in Thee was found.
5 With one consent we meekly bow
Beneath Thy chastening hand;
And, pouring forth confession meet,
Mourn with our mourning land.
6 With pitying eye behold our need,
As now we breathe our prayer;
Correct us with Thy judgments, Lord,
Yet in Thy mercy spare.
251 L. M.
1 f\ GOD of love, O King of peace
\J Make wars throughout the world to, cease;
The wrath of sinful man restrain,
Give peace, O God, give peace again.
2 Remember, Lord, Thy works of old,
The wonders that our fathers told;
Remember not our sin's dark stain:
Give peace, O God, give peace again.
3 Whom shall we trust but Thee, O Lord?
Where rest, but on Thy faithful word?
None ever called on Thee in vain:
Give peace, O God, give peace again.
4 Where saints and angels dwell above,
All hearts are knit in holy love;
Oh bind us in that heavenly chain;
Give peace, O God, give peace again.
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