2 My native country! thee, I love thy rocks and rills, 3 Our Father's God! to thee, To thee we sing ; Long may our land be bright 113 We rejoice in the hope of the glory of God.-ROM. 5. 2 MY days are gliding swiftly by, And I, a pilgrim stranger, Would not detain them as they fly, For O! we stand on Jordan's strand, 2 We'll gird our loins, my brethren dear, 3 Should coming days be cold and dark. That perfect rest naught can molest, 4 Let sorrow's rudest tem 114 Let us not sleep, as do others, but let us MY soul, be on thy guard; Ten thousand foes arise; 2 O watch, and fight, and pray ; 3 Ne'er think the vict'ry won, 4 Fight on, my soul, till death He'll take thee at thy parting breath, 115 6, 4. In thee, O Lord, do I put my trust; let me never be put to confusion.-PSA. 71. 1. MThou Lamb of Calvary: Y faith looks up to thee Saviour divine, 116 Now hear me while I pray; 2 May thy rich grace impart As thou hast died for me, Pure, warm, and changeless be- 3 While life's dark maze I tread From thee aside. 4 When ends life's transient dream; A ransom'd soul. Behold, I stand at the door, and knock.-REV. 8. 20. Y Saviour stands waiting, and knocks at the door, MY Has knocked, and is knocking again; I hear his kind voice; I'll reject him no more, Nor let him stand pleading in vain. In infinite mercy he came from above Saviour, come in; Cleanse me from sin; Jesus, my Saviour, come in, come in! Waiting no more; 20 Saviour, my Ransom, Redeemer, and Friend, The Life, and the Truth, and the Way, On thy precious merit alone I depend; Dwell in me and keep me, I pray. Thy goodness hath opened the door of my heart; 'Tis open in welcome to thee; Come in, blessed Saviour, and never depart; Come in, with thy mercy, to me. 117 6, 4. Draw nigh to God, and he will draw nigh to NE you. JAMES 4. 8. EARER, my God, to thee,- E'en though it be a cross That raiseth me; Still all my song shall be, 2 Though like a wanderer, Yet in my dreams I'd be 3 There let my way appear All that thou sendest me Angels to beckon me 4 Then with my waking thoughts Bright with thy praise, Out of my stony griefs Bethel I'll raise: So by my woes to be 5 And when on joyful wing, Sun, moon, and stars forgot, Still all my song shall be, |