3 For faithful is the word of God;

His works with truth abound; He justice loves; and all the earth Is with his goodness crown'd.

Hymn 17.

1 To our Redeemer's glorious Name!
Awake the sacred song:

Oh, may his love (immortal flame!)
Tune every heart and tongue.

2 His love, what mortal thought can reach;
What mortal tongue display!
Imagination's utmost stretch
In wonder dies away.

3 He left his radiant throne on high,
Léft the bright realms of bliss,
And came to earth to bleed and die!
Was ever love like this?

4 Dear Lord, while we adoring pay

Our humble thanks to thee, May every heart with rapture say, "The Saviour died for me."

Psalm 103.

From the cxxviii. Psalm of David.

1 THE man is blest that fears the Lord,

Nor only worship pays,

But keeps his steps confined with care
To his appointed ways.

2 He shall upon the sweet returns
Of his own labor feed;
Without dependence live, and see
His wishes all succeed.

3 Who fears the Lord shall prosper thus; Him Sion's God shall bless,

And grant him all his days to see
Jerusalem's success.

Hymn 16.

1 SALVATION! oh, the joyful sound, Glad tidings to our ears;

A sovereign balm for every wound,
A cordial for our fears.

2 Salvation! buried once in sin,
At hell's dark door we lay;

DUNDEE. C. M.

4

bedience turn,

Hymn 126.

Death of a Young Person.

1 How short the race our friend has run,
Cut down in all his bloom:
The course but yesterday begun,
Now finish'd in the tomb.

2 Thou joyous youth, hence learn how soon
Thy years may end their flight;
Long, long before life's brilliant noon
May come death's gloomy night.

3 To serve thy God no longer wait,
To-day his voice regard;
To-morrow, mercy's open gate
May be forever barr'd.

4 And thus the Lord reveals his
grace,
Thy youthful love to gain :
The soul that early seeks my face,
Shall never seek in vain.

3 He kindly heals the broken hearts, And all their wounds does close; He tells the number of the stars, Their several names he knows.

Hymn 125.

away

1 WHEN those we love are snatch'd
By death's resistless hand,
Our hearts the mournful tribute pay
That friendship must demand.

2 While pity prompts the rising sigh,
With awful power imprest,
May this dread truth, "I too must die,"
Sink deep in every breast.

3 Let this vain world allure no more;
Behold the opening tomb;
It bids us use the present hour,
To-morrow death may come.

4 Oh, let us to that Saviour fly,
Whose arm alone can save :
Then shall our hopes ascend on high,
And triumph o'er the grave.

HANDEL. C. M.