2 My native country, thee,
Land of the noble free,
Thy name I love;

I love thy rocks and rills,
Thy woods and templed hills;
My heart with rapture thrills
Like that above.

3 Let music swell the breeze,
And ring from all the trees
Sweet freedom's song;
Let mortal tongues awake;

Let all that breathe partake;
Let rocks their silence break-
The sound prolong.

4 Our fathers' God, to thee,
Author of liberty,

To thee we sing:

Long may our land be bright
With freedom's holy light;
Protect us by thy might,

Great God, our King.

96

Music by L. P. LINCOLN.

109
1 When the Sabbath bell is ringing,
Let us come without delay;
And unite with thousands singing,
In their Sunday-schools to-day.
These are happy hours of meeting,

When we hear the voice of prayer;
But these hours are short and fleeting:
Let us then be early there.

2 We shall keep our teachers waiting,
If we tarry by the way;
Or disturb the school reciting,
On this holy Sabbath day.
Here the blessed gospel shows us
All its precious stores of truth;
And the Holy Spirit woos us

From transgression in our youth.
3 When the Sabbath bell is ringing,
Let us to the school repair,
That we may unite in singing,
And together kneel in prayer.

110

Repeat.

Jesus our strength. 8s & 78. 1 Jesus, Lord of life and glory,

Friend of children, hear our lays; Humbly would our souls adore thee, Sing thy name in hymns of praise. O, what debtors to thy kindness Are we, God of boundless love!

Thousands wander on in blindness,
Strangers to the light above.

2 Jesus, on thine arm relying,

We would tread this earthly vale; Be our life when we are dying;

97

Be our strength, when strength shall fail. Let us mount the hills of glory,

111

Far from sins, and woes, and pains; There, in perfect songs, adore thee, And in everlasting strains.

The dying Christian. 8s & 7s.

1 Happy soul, thy days are ending, All thy mourning days below; Go, the angel guards attending,To the sight of Jesus go. Waiting to receive thy spirit,

Lo! the Saviour stands above; Shows the purchase of his merit, Reaches out the crown of love.

2 Struggle through thy latest passion, To thy great Redeemer's breast; To his uttermost salvation,

To his everlasting rest.
For the joy he sets before thee,
Bear a momentary pain;
Die, to live a life of glory;

Suffer, with thy Lord to reign.