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The word of the Lord standeth sure.

BEGIN, my tongue, some heavenly theme,

And speak some boundless thing; The mighty works or mightier name

Of our eternal King.

Tell of his wondrous faithfulness,

And sound his power abroad;
Sing the sweet promise of his grace,

And the performing God.

Proclaim salvation from the Lord

For wretched dying men :
His hand has writ the sacred word

With an immortal pen.

Engraved as in eternal brass,

The mighty promise shines;
Nor can the powers of darkness rase

Those everlasting lines.

His very word of grace is strong,

As that which built the skies ; The voice that rolls the stars along,

Speaks all the promises.


He said, “Let the wide heaven be spread :'

And heaven was stretched abroad : Abra'm, I'll be thy God,' he said ; And he was Abra'm's God.


O might I hear thy heavenly tongue

But whisper, 'Thou art mine ! Those gentle words should raise my song

To notes almost divine.

How would my leaping heart rejoice,

And think my heaven secure ! I trust the all-creating voice,

And faith desires no more.


Lord Thou hast been our dwelling place in

all generations.

OUR God, our help in ages past,

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

And our eternal home!

Under the shadow of thy throne

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

And our defence is sure.

Before the hills in order stood,

Or earth received her frame,
From everlasting thou art God,
To endless years


Thy word commands our flesh to dust,

Return, ye sons of men ;'
All nations rose from earth at first,

And turn to earth again.

A thousand ages in thy sight

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

Before the rising sun.

[The busy tribes of flesh and blood,

With all their lives and cares,
Are carried downwards by the flood,

And lost in following years.

Time, like an ever-rolling stream,

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

Dies at the opening day.

Like flowery.

fields the nations stand, Pleased with the morning light; The flowers beneath the mower's hand,

Lie withering ere 'tis night.]

Our God, our help in ages past,

Our hope for years to come, Be thou our guard while troubles last,

And our eternal home.


Unto the upright there ariseth light in the


GOD moves in a mysterious way

His wonders to perform;
He plants his footsteps in the sea,

And rides upon the storm.

Deep in unfathomable mines

Of never-failing skill,
He treasures up his bright designs,

And works his sovereign will.
Ye fearful saints fresh courage take;

The clouds ye so much dread,
Are big with mercy, and shall break

In blessings on your head.

Judge not the Lord by feeble sense,

But trust him for his grace;
Behind a frowning providence

He hides a smiling face.

His purposes will ripen fast,

Unfolding every hour;
The bud may have a bitter taste,

But sweet will be the flower.

Blind unbelief is sure to err,

And scan his work in vain ;
God is his own interpreter,

And he will make it plain.


The word of the Lord endureth for ever.

THE promises I sing,

Which sovereign love hath spoke ; Nor will the eternal King His words of

grace revoke;
They stand secure,

And stedfast still ;
Not Zion's hill
Abides so sure.

The mountains melt away

When once the Judge appears ;
And sun and moon decay
That measure mortal

years ;
But still the same,
In radiant lines

The promise shines
Thro' all the flame.

Their harmony shall sound

Thro' mine attentive ears, When thunders cleave the ground And dissipate the spheres ;

'Midst all the shock

Of that dread scene,

I stand serene,
Thy word



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