THE SUNDAY SCHOOL Apar. 1912. HY MN BOOK. CREATION AND PROVIDENCE. HYMN 1. S. M. And hymns of glory sing ; The universal king. And gave the seas their bound, And all the solid ground. Come, bow before the Lord; He torm'd us by his word. Nor dare provoke his rud! And own your gracious God. sirs Kino 2. C. M. Come, let us join the hosis above, Now in our youngest days; Remember our Creator's love, And lisp our Father's praiso. 2 His majesty will not despise, The day of feeble things; Grateful the songs of children rise, And please the King of kings. 3 He loves to be remembered thus, And honoura for his grace; His wisdom perfects praise. Monour and thinks be given! C. M. 41. Che Father! gracious Lord! ind guardian of my days! Ta mercies let my heart record songs of grateful praise. 2 In his first dawn, iny tender frame 1975 tky indulgent carc, Lony ere I could pronource thy name, Or breathe the infant prayer. 3 Each rolling year now favours brought From thy sxhaustless store; Would count thy mercies o'er. 4 While sweet reflection through my days Thy bounteous hand would trace; Still dearer blessings claim any praisa. The blessings of thy grace. For favours more divine ; C. M Who reigns above the sky! His dreadful majesty! Can search his secret will; And sing his praises still. 3 Then let me join this holy train, And my firat offerings bring; To hear an infant sing. 4 My heart resolves, my tongue obeys, And angels shall rejoice C. M. That made the mountains rise ; And built the lofty skies. The sun to rule the day; And all the stars obey. But makes thy glories known; Dy order from thy tárone. 4 Lord, how thy wonders are display'd Where'er I turn mine eye! C. M. That fill'd the earth with fuod; And then pronounc'd them good. 2 Creatures (as num'rous as thoy be) Are subject to thy care! Therc's not a place where we can flee But God is present there. 3 In heav'n he shines with beams of love, With wrath in hell beneath; 'Tig on his earth 1 stand or move, And 'tis his air I breathe. He keeps me with his eye; Who is for ever nigh? 7. S. M. The praises of my tongue, I offer to the Lord, That I was taught and learn'd so young To read his holy word. The danger I am in, A w:etched slave to sin. Informs me where to go And make me holy too. |