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5 Him I follow till my days are ended,

Till Himself shall call me home to rest ;
In the Father's house there'll be extended
II: The glad welcome of a heavenly guest:ll

C. W. Schaeffer, Tr.

145
O GOD, our help in ages past,

Our hope for years to come,
Our shelter from the stormy blast,

And our eternal home!
2 Under the shadow of Thy throne

Thy saints have dwelt secure; Sufficient is Thine arm alone,

And our defense is sure. 3 Before the hills in order stood,

Or earth received her frame, From everlasting Thou art God,

To endless years the same.
4 A thousand ages in Thy sight

Are like the evening gone;
Short as the watch that ends the night

Before the rising sun.
5 Time, like an ever-rolling stream,

Bears all its sons away; They fly, forgotten as a dream

Dies at the opening day.
6 O God, our help in ages past,

Our hope for years to come,
Be Thou our guide while life shall last,

And our eternal home.

I. Watts.

Epiphany

146

A
S WITH gladness men of old

Did the guiding star behold;
As with joy they hailed its light,
Leading onward, beaming bright;
So, most gracious Lord, may we
Evermore be led to Thee.

2 As with joyful steps they sped

To that lowly manger-bed;
There to bend the knee before
Him Whom heaven and earth adore;
So may we with willing feet
Ever seek the mercy-seat.

3 As they offered gifts most rare

At the manger rude and bare;
So may we with holy joy,
Pure and free from sin's alloy,
All our costliest treasures bring,
Christ! to Thee, our heavenly King.

4 Holy Jesus! every day

Keep us in the narrow way;
And, when earthly things are past,
Bring our ransomed souls at last
Where they need no star to guide,
Where no clouds Thy glory hide.

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5 In the heavenly country bright

Need they no created light;
Thou its Light, its Joy, its Crown,
Thou its Sun which goes not down,
There forever may we sing
Hallelujahs to our King.

W. C. Dix.

147

THERE came three kings ere break of day,

All on Epiphany;
Their gifts they bare, both rich and rare,

All, all, Lord Christ, for Thee:
Gold, frankincense, and myrrh are there. ----

Where is the King? O where? O where? Where is the King? O where?

2 The star shone brightly overhead,

The air was calm and still,
O’er Bethle'm's field its rays were shed,

The dew lay on the hill:
We see no throne, no palace fair,-

Where is the King? etc.

5 An old man knelt at a manger low,

A Babe lay in the stall;
The starlight played on th' Infant brow,

Deep silence lay o'er all;
A maiden knelt o'er th' Babe in prayer,
There is the King, O there, O there!

G. Moult

148 HAIL to the Lord's Anointed,

Great David's greater Son!
Hail, in the time appointed,

His reign on earth begun!
He comes to break oppression,

To set the captive free,
To take away transgression,

And rule in equity.

2 .He comes with succor speedy

To those who suffer wrong;
To help the poor and needy,

And bid the weak be strong;
To give them songs for sighing;

Their darkness turn to light, Whose souls, condemned and dying,

Were precious in His sight.

3 He shall come down like showers

Upon the fruitful earth;
And love, joy, hope, like flowers,

Spring in His path to birth.
Before Him on the mountains

Shall peace, the herald, go; And righteousness, in fountains,

From hill to valley flow. 4 For Him shall prayer unceasing

And daily vows ascend; His kingdom still increasing,

A kingdom without end. The tide of time shall never

His covenant remove:
His name shall stand forever;

That name to us is Love.

J. Montgomery.

149

HOSANNA! Raise the pealing hymn

To David's Son and Lord; With cherubim and seraphim

Exalt th' incarnate Word.

2 Hosanna! Lord, our feeble tongue

No lofty strains can raise:
But Thou wilt not despise the young,

Who meekly chant Thy praise.

3 Hosanna! Master, lo! we bring

Our offerings to Thy throne;
Not gold, nor myrrh, nor mortal thing,

But hearts to be Thine own.

4 Hosanna! Once Thy gracious ear

Approved a lisping throng:
Be gracious still, and deign to hear

Our poor but grateful song.

5 O Savior, if, redeemed by Thee,

Thy temple we behold, Hosannas, through eternity, We'll sing to harps of gold.

W. H. Havergal.

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