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HYMN 107. L. M.

For a public Fast in war, praying for peace.

AR, horrid war, deep stain'd in blood, Still pours its havoc thro' our land; Almighty God, restrain the flood; Say "tis enough!" and stay thine hand. 2 Let peace descend with balmy wing, And all her blessings round us shed; Our liberties be well secur'd,

And commerce lift its fainting head. 3 Let the loud cannon cease to roar, The warlike trump no longer sound; The din of arms be heard no more, Nor human blood pollute the ground. 4 Let hostile troops drop from their hands The useless sword, the glitt'ring spear; And join in friendship's sacred bands, Nor one dissentient voice be there. 5 Thus save, O Lord, a sinking land; Millions of tongues shall then adore, Resound the honours of thy name, And spread thy praise from shore to shore.

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HYMN 108. C. M.

On a public Fast during national Judgments.
EE, gracious Lord, before thy throne,
Thy mourning people bend!

'Tis on thy sov'reign grace alone,
Our humble hopes depend.

2 Tremendous judgments from thy hand
Thy dreadful pow'r display;

Yet mercy spares this guilty land,
And still we live to pray.

3 How chang'd, alas! For truths divine
See error, guilt and shame!

What impious numbers, bold in sin,
Disgrace the Christian name!

4 O! turn us, turn us, mighty Lord,
By thy resistless grace;

Then shall our hearts obey thy word,
And humbly seek thy face.

5 Then, should insulting foes invade,
We shall not sink in fear;
Secure of never-failing aid,
Since God, our God, is near.

HYMN 109. C. M.

On a Fast day during Pestilence or general Sickness.

1 DEATH, with his dread commission seal'd,

hastens to his arms; In awful state he takes the field, And sounds his dire alarms.

2 Attendant plagues around him throng,
And wait his high command;

And pains, and dying groans, obey
The signal of his hand.

3 With cruel force he scatters round
His shafts of deadly pow'r;
While the grave waits his destin'd prey,
Impatient to devour.

4 Diseases are thy servants, Lord,
They come at thy command:

We'll not attempt a murm'ring word,
Against thy chast'ning hand.

5 Yet, may we plead with humble cries,
Remove thy sharp rebukes:
Our strength comsumes, our spirit dies,
Thro' thy repeated strokes.

6 In anger, Lord, rebuke us not,

Withdraw these dreadful storms:

Nor let thy fury grow so hot,
Against poor feeble worms.

7 O! 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.

1 TO thee, 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;
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.

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.

2 When angry nations rush to arms,

And rage, and noise, and tumult reign;
And war resounds its dire alarms,
And slaughter spreads the hostile plain;

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 valleys sing,
Reviving commerce lifts her head.

5 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;

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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 smarted 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.

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 flee away.

6 There, while the nations of the bless'd,
With raptures, bow around,
Our anthems to deliv'ring grace,
In sweeter strains shall sound.

HYMN 113. C. M.

Complaint and hope in Sickness.

1ORD, I am pain'd; but I resign
My body to thy will:
"Tis grace, 'tis wisdom all divine,
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.