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-ul of all our rece

[In L. M. hymns, when sung in the above music, re peat the last two lines of each verse.]

Be thou, O God! exalted high;
And as thy glory fills the sky,
So let it be on earth displayed,
Till thou art here, as there, obeyed.
O God! my heart is fully bent,
Its thankful tribute to present;
And, with my heart, my voice I'll raise
To thee, in songs of ardent praise.
Thy praises shall, O Lord, resound
To all the tribes and nations round;
Thy love the highest heaven transcends

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evening in,

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ning in

ess cease;

Jay,

eace. en, o heav'n.

come,

things.

Forever shines serenely bright,
There is a star whose gentle ray,
And beams upon the Christian's way
To bless him with its holy light.
From the eternal throne it gleams,
And sheds on man its radiant beams.
When on life's stormy sea we ride,
When all is dark, and all is drear,
When fearful swells the foaming tide,
Oh then its blessed rays appear,
And lift the tearful eye above!
And gently shed the light of love,

Tis Christian Hope, the sweetest star
That lights the pilgrim's onward way,
It dissipates the gathering gloom
And points to glorious joys afar,
The joys of everlasting day.
That frowns around the opening tomb.

Of deep, desponding, chilling fear;
O give me this in every hour
O let me feel its heavenly power,
The weariness of woe to cheer.
And Christian Hope sustains the heart.
Then earth's delusive dreams depart,

When youthful spring around us breathes, Far better is this light divine,
Thy spirit warms her fragrant sigh;
And every flower the summer wreathes

This sure and steadfast hope in heaven

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O thou, to whom, in ancient time,
The lyre of Hebrew bards was strung,
Whom kings adored in songs sublime,
And prophets praised with glowing
tongue;

Not now on Zion's height alone,
Thy favored worshipper may dwell;
Not where, at sultry noon, thy Son
Sat, weary, by the patriarch's well:
From every place below the skies,
The grateful song, the fervent prayer,
The incense of the heart, may rise
To heaven, and find acceptance there.
In this thy house, whose doors we now
For social worship first unfold,

To thee the suppliant throng shall bow
While circling years on years are rolled
To thee shall age with snowy hair,
And strength and beauty, bend the knee

And childhood lisp with reverent air

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