119 BROOKFIELD L. M.

Thomas B. Southgate, 1855

MEN.

Un-com-pre-hend - ed and un-bought, Be-yond all knowledge and all thought. A

be

2 O love of God, how deep and great! 5 We read thee best in Him who came

Far deeper than man's deepest hate; To bear for us the cross of shame; Self-fed, self-kindled like the light, Sent by the Father from on high, Changeless, eternal, infinite.

Our life to live, our death to die. 3 O heavenly love, how precious still, 6 We read thy power to bless and save, In days of weariness and ill,

E'en in the darkness of the grave; In nights of pain and helplessness, Still more in resurrection light

To heal, to comfort, and to bless! We read the fulness of thy might. 4 O wide-embracing, wondrous love! 7 O love of God, our shield and stay We read thee in the sky above,

Through all the perils of our way! We read thee in the earth below, Eternal love, in thee we rest, In seas that swell, and streams that flow. For ever safe, for ever blest.

Rev. Horatius Bonar, 1861

Thy truth shall break through every cloud That veils and darkens Thy de - signs. A - MEN.

All flesh shall to Thy throne re-pair, And find, through Christ, salvation there.

A-MEN.

2 Our spirits faint; our sins prevail; Evening and morning hymn Thy praise,

Leave not our trembling hearts to fail: And earth Thy bounty wide displays.
O Thou that hearest prayer, descend,
And still be found the sinner's Friend. 5 The year is with Thy goodness crowned;

Thy clouds drop wealth the world around; 3 Ho blest Thy saints! how safely led, Through Thee the deserts laugh and sing,

How surely kept, how richly fed! And nature smiles, and owns her King.
Saviour of all in earth and sea,
How happy they who rest in Thee! 6 Lord, on our souls Thine influence pour;

The moral waste within restore: 4 Thy hand sets fast the mighty hills, O let Thy love our spring-tide be, Thy voice the troubled ocean stills; And make us all bear fruit to Thee.

Psalm lxiii. Rev. Henry F. Lyte, 1834: verse 1, line 1, alt.

121 (WARE) L. M.
1 High in the heavens, Eternal God, 4 My God, how excellent Thy grace,

Thy goodness in full glory shines; Whenceallour hope and comfort spring!
Thy truth shall breakthrough every cloud The sons of Adam in distress
That veils and darkens Thy designs. Fly to the shadow of Thy wing.

2 For ever firm Thy justice stands,

As mountains their foundations keep;
Wise are the wonders of Thy hands;
Thy judgments are a mighty deep.

5 From the provisions of Thy house

We shall be fed with sweet repast;
There mercy like a river flows,
And brings salvation to our taste.

3 Thy providence is kind and large, 6 Life, like a fountain, rich and free,

Both man and beast Thy bounty share; Springs from the presence of my Lord; The whole creation is Thy charge, And in Thy light our souls shall see But saints are Thy peculiar care. The glories promised in Thy word.

Psalm xxxvi. Rev. Isaac Watts, 1719

power are great, And, armed with cruel hate, On earth is not his

e - qual. A - MEN.

2 Did we in our own strength confide, The prince of darkness grim,Our striving would be losing;

We tremble not for him; Were not the right man on our side, His rage we can endure,

The man of God's own choosing: For lo! his doom is sure,
Dost ask who that may be?

One little word shall fell him.
Christ Jesus, it is He;
Lord Sabaoth His Name,

4 That word above all earthly powers, From age to age the same,

No thanks to them, abideth; And He must win the battle.

The Spirit and the gifts are ours

Through Him who with us sideth 3 And though this world, with devils filled, Let goods and kindred go, Should threaten to undo us;

This mortal life also;
We will not fear, for God hath willed The body they may kill:
His truth to triumph through us: God's truth abideth still,

His kingdom is for ever.
Martin Luther, 1529. Trans. by Rev. Frederick H. Hedge. 1853

123 SANCTUARY 8.7.8.7.D.

14

Rev. John B. Dykes, 1871

(See also FALFIELD, No. 412) 2 Praise, my soul, the God that sought Praise the grace whose threats alarmed thee,

thee. Wretched wanderer, far astray;

Roused thee from thy fatal ease, Found thee lost, and kindly brought Praise the grace whose promise warmed thee

thee, From the paths of death away: Praise the grace that whispered peace. Praise, with love's devoutest feeling, Him who saw thy guilt-born fear,

4 Lord, this bosom's ardent feeling And, the light of hope revealing,

Vainly would my lips express: Bade the blood-stained cross appear.

Low before Thy footstool kneeling,

Deign Thy suppliant's prayer to bless: 3 Praise Thy Saviour God that drew thee Let Thy love, my soul's chief treasure, To that cross, new life to give,

Love's pure flame within me raise; Held a blood-sealed pardon to thee, And, since words can never measure, Bade thee look to Him and live: Let my life show forth Thy praise.

Francis S. Key, 1817