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Our thanks we bring In joy and praise, Our hearts we raise To heaven's high King.

2 The nation Thou hast blest,

May well Thy love declare,
From foes and fears at rest,
Protected by Thy care.
For this fair land,

For this bright day,
Our thanks we pay-
Gifts of Thy hand.

4 Earth! hear thy Maker's voice,

Thy great Redeemer own;
Believe, obey, rejoice,
And worship Him alone;
Cast down thy pride,

Thy sin deplore,
And bow before

The Crucified.

3 May every mountain height,

Each vale and forest green, Shine in Thy word's pure light, And its rich fruits be seen! May every tongue

Be tuned to praise,
And join to raise

A grateful song.

5 And when in power He comes,

( may our native land,
From all its rending tombs,
Send forth a glorious band,
A countless throng,

Ever to sing
To heaven's high King
Salvation's song.

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Forsake me not, my God!
Uphold me in my going,

That evermore I may
Please Thee in all well-doing:
And that Thy will, O Lord,

May never be forgot
In all my works and ways:

My God, forsake me not!
Forsake me not, my God!
I would be Thine for ever:

Confirm me mightily
In every right endeavor:
And when my hour is come,

Cleansed from all stain and spot
Of sin, receive my soul:
My God, forsake me not!

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We are naught, Sin hath brought, Lord, Thy wrath up

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2 Show me now a Father's love,

And His tender patience, Heal my wounded soul, remove These too sore temptations;

I ain weak,

Father, speak
Thou of peace and gladness,
Comfort Thou my sadness.
3 Weary am I of my pain,

Weary with my sorrow,
Sighing still for help in vain,
Longing for the morrow;

Why wilt Thou

Tarry now? Wilt Thou friendless leave me And of hope bereave me?

5 Father, hymns to Thee we raise,

Here and once in heaven; And the Son and Spirit praise, Who our bonds have riven!

Evermore

We adore
Thee whose love bath stirred us,

And whose pity heard us.

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German, 16th Century

A - las, my God! my sins are great, My conscience doth up-braid me;

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And now I find that at my strait No man hath power to

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2 And fled I hence, in my despair, Here spare me not; if heaven I win, In some lone spot to hide me,

On earth I gladly suffer. My griefs would still be with me there, 5 But curb my heart, forgive my guilt,

Thy hand still hold and guide me. Make Thou my patience firmer, 3 Nay, Thee I seek;-I merit naught, For they must miss the good Thou wilt, Yet pity and restore me;

Who at Thy teachings murmur. Be not Thy wrath, just God, my lot, 6 Then deal with me as seems Thee best, Thy Son hath suffered for me.

Thy grace will help me bear it, 4 If pain and woe must follow sin, If but at last I see Thy rest, Then be my path still rougher;

And with my Savior share it.

J. Gross, 1613 8, 7. 4L.

Oler Form.

German, 16th Century

las, my God! my sins are great, My conscience doth up - braid me; And

TO

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Louis Bourgeois, 1547

18%

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2 Then this our comfort is alone,

That we may meet before Thy throne,
And cry, O faithful God, to Thee

For rescue from our misery:
3 To Thee may raise our hearts and eyes,

Repenting sore with bitter sighs,
And seek Thy pardon for our sin,

And respite from our griefs within.
4 For Thou hast promised graciously

To hear all those who cry to Thee,
Through Him whose name alone is great,

Our Savior and our advocate.
5 And thus we come, O God, today,

And all our woes before Thee lay;
For tried, afflicted, lo! we stand,

Peril and foes on every hand.
6 Ah, hide not for our sins Thy face;

Absolve us through Thy boundless grace;
Be with us in our anguish still,

Free us at last from every ill.
? That so with all our hearts we may
Once more our glad thanksgiving pay,
And walk obedient to Thy word,
And now and ever praise Thee, Lord.

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