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Behold, the morning sun

Begins his glorious way!
His beams through all the nations run,

And life and light convey.
But where the gospel comes,

It spreads diviner light;
It calls dead sinners from their tombs,

And gives the blind their sight.
My gracious God, how plain

Are thy directions given!
O may I never read in vain,

But find the path to heaven
I hear thy word with love,

And I would fain obey;
Send thy good Spirit from above,

To guide me, lest I stray.


My Maker and my King,

To thee my all I owe;
Thy sovereign bounty is the spring

From whence my blessings flow.
Thou ever good and kind,

A thousand reasons move, A thousand obligations bind,

My heart to grateful love. 0, let thy grace inspire

My soul with strength divino , Leod my powers to thee aspire,

And all my days be thine.

From The J. S. School-by permissiot

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Though the tones of sorrow

Mingle in thy strain,
Yet my heart can borrow

Pleasure from the pain.
Hark! the quivering breezes

List thy silvery sound
Every tumult ceases,

Silence reigns profound.
Hushed the thousand noises -

Gone the noonday glare ;
Gentle spirit voices

Stir the midnight air.
Earth below is sleeping,

Meadow, hill and grove;
Angel stars are keeping
• Silent watch above.


ti to isto


We come, with joy and gladness,

To breathe our songs of praise,
Nor let one note of sadness

Be mingled in our lays;
For 't is a hallowed story,

This theme of freedom's birth:
Our fathers' deeds of glory

Are echoed round the earth.
The sound is waxing stronger,

And thrones and nations hear-
Proud men shall rule no longer,

For God the Lord is near:
And he will crush oppression,

And raise the humble mind,
And give the earth's possession

Among the good and kind.
And then shall sink the mountains,

Where pride and power are crowned,
And peace, like gentle fountains,

Shall shed its pureness round.
O God! we would adore thee,

And in thy shadow rest;
Our fathers bowed before thee,

And trusted, and were blest.
.. 13


Music from S. S. Choir.

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Before all lands, in east or west,
I love my native land the best -

With God's best gifts 't is teeming :
And when I look with pride abroad,
And see no king of tyrant lord,

It seems but rapture's dreaming.
O, lift exulting songs of praise !
Repeat the glory of those days

Of grand and noble daring, When our bold sires, with hope in Glodo Amid the wintry forest trod,

The seed of greatness bearing.

Sing how the glorious spring did dawn,
And in the light of earliest morn

The songs of toilers sounded ;
And when the golden harvest waved,
And despots all the fruitage craved,

Their tyranny was bounded.

To all the world I give my hand,
My heart I give my native land:

I seek her good, her glory;
I honor every nation's name,
Respect their fortune and their famo,

But I love the land that bore me.

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