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2 Who blesseth her is blessed!

So peace be in her walls;
And joy in all her villages,
Her cottages, and halls.

L. M.

National Anniversary.

FLINT.

1 IN pleasant lands have fallen the lines
That bound our goodly heritage;
And safe beneath our sheltering vines
Our youth is blest, and soothed our age.

2 What thanks, O God, to thee are due,

That thou didst plant our fathers here;
And watch and guard them as they grew,
A vineyard, to the planter dear.

3 The toils they bore our ease have wrought;
They sowed in tears—in joy we reap;
The birthright they so dearly bought
We'll guard till we with them shall sleep.

4 Thy kindness to our fathers shown,
In weal and woe through all the past,
Their grateful sons, O God, shall own
While here their name and race shall last.

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PIERPONT

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8 & 7s M.

Anniversary Hymn.

1 GOD of mercy, do thou never
From our offering turn away,
But command a blessing ever
On the memory of this day.

2 Light and peace, do thou ordain it;
O'er it be no shadow flung;
Let no deadly darkness stain it,
And no cloud be o'er it hung.

3 May the song this people raises,
And its vows to thee addressed,
Mingle with the prayers and praises
That thou hearest from the blessed.

4 When the lips are cold that sing thee,
And the hearts that love thee dust,
Father, then our souls shall bring thee
Holier love and firmer trust.

Anti-Slavery Meeting.

1 MEN! whose boast it is that ye
Come of fathers brave and free,
If there breathe on earth a slave,
Are ye truly free and brave?

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If ye do not feel the chain
When it works a brother's pain,
Are ye not base slaves indeed
Slaves unworthy to be freed?

2 Is true freedom but to break
Fetters for our own dear sake,
And with leathern hearts forget
That we owe mankind a debt?
No! true freedom is to share
All the chains our brothers wear,
And with heart and hand to be
Earnest to make others free!

3 They are slaves who fear to speak
For the fallen and the weak;
They are slaves who will not choose
Hatred, scoffing, and abuse,

Rather than in silence shrink

From the truth they needs must think;

They are slaves who dare not be

In the right with two or three.

1 DAUGHTER of Zion, awake from thy sadness! Awake! for thy foes shall oppress thee no more; Bright o'er thy hills dawns the day-star of gladness; Arise! for the night of thy sorrow is o'er.

2 Strong were thy foes, but the arm that subdued them And scattered their legions was mightier far; They fled, like the chaff, from the scourge that pursued them,

Vain were their steeds and their chariots of war.

3 Daughter of Zion, the power that hath saved thee

Extolled with the harp and the timbrel should be; Shout! for the foe is destroyed that enslaved thee, The oppressor is vanquished, and Zion is free.

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6 & 4s M.

J. F. CLARKE.

Ordaining a Western Missionary.

1 WHERE, for a thousand miles,

The sweet Ohio smiles,

On bed of sand;

Where prairies blossom broad,
Fair gardens sown by God,

And lakes their ocean-flood
Pour from his hand;

2 Where sleep, in rest profound,
Beneath each ancient mound,
A buried race;

There, brother, go and teach;
From heart to heart shall reach

Thy free and earnest speech
Of heavenly grace.

3 Where the tall forest waves
Above those mouldering graves,

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God's truth declare;

While his "first temples" spread
Their arches o'er thy head,
Lift o'er the slumbering dead
The voice of prayer.

4 While rolls the living tide
Down Alleghany's side,
Its ceaseless flood;
Upon the mountains, there,
How beautiful appear

The feet of those who bear
Tidings of good.

5 O Thou, whose suns and rains
Upon those mighty plains
Fall evermore;

Send down the dews of peace,
The sun of righteousness,

And let thy light increase

From shore to shore!

6 & 4s M.

God Save the Poor.

1 LORD, from thy blessed throne,

Sorrow look down upon!

God save the poor!

Teach them true liberty,

Make them from tyrants free,

Let their homes happy be!

God save the poor!

NICOLL.