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Nor let thy fury grow so hot,

Against poor feeble worms.
70 ! hear when dust and ashes speak,

And pity all our pain ;
O! save us, for thy mercy's sake,
And send us health again !

HYMN 110. C. M.

Thanksgiving for Victory.
Othee, who reign'st supreme above,

And reign’st supreme below,
Thou God of wisdom, pow'r, and love,

We our successes owe.
2 The thund'ring horse, the martial band

Without thine aid were vain ;
And vict'ry flies at thy command

To crown the bright campaign.
3 Thy mighty arm, unseen, was nigh,

When we our foes assail'd
'Tis thou hast rais'd our honours high,

And o'er their hosts prevail'd. 4 Their mounds, their camps,

their lofty tow'rs Into our hands are giv'n ; Not from desert nor strength of ours,

But thro' the grace of heav'n. 5 The Lord of hosts, our helper lives i

His name be ever blest : "Tis his own arm the vict'ry gives : He grants his people rest.

HYMN 111. L. M.

Thanksgiving for national Peace. 1 GREAT

Ruler of the earth and skies,

A word of thine almighty breath Can sink the world, or bid it rise : Thy smile is life, thy frown is death.

3 When angry nations rush to arms,

And rage, and noise, and tumult reign ;
And war resounds its dire alarms,

And slaughter spreads the hostile plains; 3 Thy Sov'reign eye looks calmly down,

And marks their course, and bounds their Thy word the angry nations own, (pow'r :

And noise and war are heard no more. 4 Then peace returns with balmy wing,

Sweet peace with her what blessings fled ! Glad plenty laughs, the vallies sing,

Reviving commerce lifts her head. 3 Thou good, and wise, and righteous Lord,

All move subservient to thy will ;
And peace and war await thy word,

And thy sublime decrees fulfil.
6 To thee we pay our grateful songs,

Thy kind protection still implore ;
O may our hearts, and lives, and tongues,
Confess thy goodness and adore !

HYMN 112. C. M.
Thanksgiving for health after Pestilence.

OV'REIGN of life, we own thy hand

In this late chast’ning stroke ; And, since we've sınarted by thy rod,

Thy presence we invoke. 2 To thee in our distress we cried,

And thou hast bow'd thine ear ; The pestilence thou hast remov’d,

And brought deliv'rance near. 3 Unfold, ye gates of righteousness ;

That, with the pious throng, We may record our solemn vows,

And tune our grateful song.

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'LORD, I am pain’d; but I resign

4 Praise to the Lord, who staid the sword

And said, “ it is enough ;" Praise to the Lord, who makes his saints

Triumphant e'en in death.
5 Our God, in thine appointed hour

Those heav'nly gates display,
Where pain, and sickness, fear and death

For ever fleç away.
6 There, while the nations of the bless'd,

With raptures bow around,
Our anthems to deliy'ring grące,
In sweeter strains shall sound.

HYMN 113. C. M.

Complaint and hope in Siokness, f

My body ta thy will :

'tis wisdom all divinę,
Appoints the pains I feel.
2 Dark are thy ways of providence,

While they, who love thee, groan:
Thy reasons lie conceal'd from sense,

Mysterious and unknown.
3 Yet nature may have leave to speak,

And plead before her God,
Lest the o'erburden'd heart should break

Beneath thy heavy rod. 4 These mournful groans and flowing tears,

Give my poor spirit ease :
While ev'ry groan my Father hears,

And ev'ry tear he sees.
5 Is not some smiling hour at hand

With health upon its wings?
Give it, O God, thy swift command,

With all the joys it brings.

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HYMN 114. C. M.

Praise for recovery from Sickness. 1 Y God, thy service well demands

The remnant of my days; Why was this fleeting breath renew'd,

But to renew thy praise ? 2 Thine arms of everlasting love

Did this weak frame sustain 1; When life was hov'ring o'er the grave,

And nature sunk with pain.
3 Calmly I bow'd my fainting head

On thy dear faithful breast;
Pleas'd to obey my Father's call

To his eternal rest.
4 Into thy hands, my Saviour-God,

Did I my soul resign:
In firm dependence on that truth,

Which made salvation mine.
5 Back from the borders of the grave,

At thy command I come :
Nor will I urge a speedier flight,

To my celestial home. 6 Where thou determin'st mine abode,

There would I choose to be;
For in thy presence death is life,
And earth is heav'n with thee.

HYMN 115. S. M.

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With gratitude we own :
We bless thy providential grace,

Which show'rs its blessings down. 2 With joy the people bring

Their off rings round thy throne ;

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With thankful souls behold we pay

A tribute of thy own.
3 Accept this humble mite

Great Sov'reign Lord of all;
Nor let our num'rous mingling sins,

The fragrant ointment spoil. 4 Let a Redeemer's blood

Diffuse its virtues wide ; Hallow and cleanse our ev'ry gift,

And all our follies hide. 5 O may this sacrifice

To thee the Lord ascend,
An odour of a sweet perfume,

Presented by his hand.
6 Well pleas'd our God shall view

The products of his grace ;
And in a plentiful reward
Fulfil his promises.

HYMN 116. L. M.

Charity. 1 THE gold and silver are the Lord's,

And ev'ry blessing earth affords; All come from his propitious hand,

And must return at his command. 2 The blessings which I now enjoy,

I must for Christ and souls employ ;
For if I use them as my own,

My Lord will soon call in his loan. 3 When I to him in want apply,

He never does my suit deny ;
And shall I then refuse to give,

Since I so much from him receive ? 4 Shall Jesus leave the realms of day,

And clothe himself in humble clay?


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