4 Yet when our hearts review departed days,
How vast thy mercies! how remiss our praise!
Well may we dread thine awful eye to meet,
Bend at thy throne, and worship at thy feet.

5 O lend thine ear, and lift our voice to thee;
Where'er we dwell, still let thy mercy be;
From year to year, still nearer to thy shrine
Draw our frail hearts, and make them wholly thine.

177

L. M.

New Year.

Doddridge.

1 ETERNAL Source of every joy!

Well may thy praise our lips employ,
While in thy temple we appear,

Whose goodness crowns the circling year.

2 Wide as the wheels of nature roll,
Thy hand supports the steady pole;
The sun is taught by thee to rise,
And darkness when to veil the skies.

3 Seasons, and months, and weeks, and days,
Demand successive songs of praise;
Still be the cheerful homage paid,
With opening light and evening shade.

4 O may our more harmonious tongues
In worlds unknown pursue the songs;
And in those brighter courts adore,
Where days and years revolve no more!

179

7 & 6s. M.

Heber.

Missionary Hymn.

1 FROM Greenland's icy mountains,
From India's coral strand,
Where Afric's sunny fountains
Roll down their golden sand;
From many an ancient river,
From many a palmy plain,

They call us to deliver

Their land from error's chain.

2 What though the spicy breezes,
Blow soft o'er Ceylon's isle;
Though every prospect pleases,
And only man is vile;

In vain with lavish kindness

The gifts of God are strown;
The heathen, in his blindness,
Bows down to wood and stone.

3 Shall we, whose souls are lighted
By wisdom from on high –
Shall we to men benighted,
The lamp of life deny?
Salvation! O Salvation;

The joyful sound proclaim,
Till earth's remotest nation

Has learnt Messiah's name.

180

6 & 4s. M.

PIERPONT.

National Anniversary.

1 BREAK forth in song, ye trees
As, through your tops, the breeze

Sweeps from the sea;

For, on its rushing wings,

To your cool shades and springs,
That breeze a people brings,
Exiled, though free.

2 Ye sister hills, lay down

Of ancient oaks your crown,

In homage due ;

These are the great of earth,
Great, not by kingly birth,

Great in their well-proved worth,

Firm hearts and true.

3 These are the living lights,

That from your bold, green heights,

Shall shine afar,

Till they who name the name

Of Freedom, to the flame

Come, as the Magi came

Toward's Bethlehem's star.

4 Gone are those great and good
Who here, in peril, stood

And raised their hymn.

Peace to the reverend dead!
The light, that on their head
Two hundred years have shed,
Shall ne'er grow dim.

5 Ye temples, that to God
Rise where our fathers trod,
Guard well your trust, -
The faith, that dared the sea,
The truth, that made them free,
Their cherished purity,

Their garnered dust.

6 Thou high and holy ONE,
Whose care for sire and son
All nature fills;

While day shall break and close,

While night her crescent shows,
O, let thy light repose

On these our hills.

181

6 & 4s. M.

S. F. SMITH.

National Anniversary.

1 My country, 'tis of thee,

Sweet land of liberty,

Of thee I sing;

Land where my fathers died,
Land of the pilgrim's pride,
From every mountain side
Let freedom ring.