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on, roll - ing time! thou canst not make The Fa - ther cease to

love.

A. men.

1
BREAK, newborn year, on glad eyes break!

Melodious voices move!
On, rolling time! thou canst not make

The Father cease to love.
2 The parted year had winged feet;

The Saviour still doth stay:
The new year comes; but, Spirit sweet,

Thou goest not away.
3 Our hearts in tears may oft run o'er;

But, Lord, Thy smile still beams:
Our sins are swelling evermore,

But pardoning grace still streams.
4 Lord, from this year more service win,

More glory, more delight:
O make its hours less sad with sin,

Its days with Thee more bright.
5 Then we may bless its precious things

If earthly cheer should come,
Or gladsome mount on angel wings

If Thou wouldst take us home.
6 0 golden then the hours must be;

The year must needs be sweet;
Yes, Lord, with happy melody
Thine opening grace we greet.

Thomas H. Gill, 1865

ES IST DAS HEIL

German melody in Etlich Cristliche Lyeder, 1524,

harmonized by C. L. Safford, 1909

A - cross the sky the shades of night This win-ter's eve are

fleet - ing; We seek Thee,

ev - er- last - ing Light, In sol-emn wor-ship meet-ing; And as the year's last hours go by

We lift to Thee our ear-nest cry, Once more Thy love en - treat - ing.

men.

1 A CROSS the sky the shades of night

A This winter's eve are fleeting;
We seek Thee, everlasting Light,

In solemn worship meeting;
And as the year's last hours go by
We lift to Thee our earnest cry,

Once more Thy love entreating.

3 In many an hour, when fear and dread,

Like evil spells have bound us,
And clouds were gathering overhead,

Thy providence hath found us;
In many a night when waves ran high,
Thy gracious presence drawing nigh

Hath made all calm around us.

2 Before the cross, subdued we bow,

To Thee our prayers addressing; Recounting all Thy mercies now,

And all our sins confessing; Beseeching Thee, this coming year, To hold us in Thy faith and fear,

And crown us with Thy blessing.

4 And, while we kneel, we lift our eyes

To dear ones gone before us;
Safe housed with Thee in paradise,

Their spirits hovering o'er us;
And beg of Thee, when life is past,
To re-unite us all at last,

And to our lost restore us.

5 Then, O great God, in years to come,

Whatever fate betide us,
Right onward through our journey home

Be Thou at hand to guide us,
Nor leave us till, at close of life,
Safe from all perils, toil and strife,
Heaven shall enfold and hide us.

James Hamilton, 1882, v. 1, line 3 alt.

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1 THE glory of the spring how sweet!

The new-born life how glad! What joy the happy earth to greet

In new, bright raiment clad! 2 Divine Renewer, Thee I bless,

I greet Thy going forth;
I love Thee in the loveliness

Of Thy renewed earth.

3 But ( these wonders of Thy grace,

These nobler works of Thine, These marvels sweeter far to trace,

These new-births more divine,

4 This new-born glow of faith so strong,

This bloom of love so fair, This new-born ecstasy of song

And fragrancy of prayer!

5 Creator Spirit, work in me

These wonders sweet of Thine, Divine Renewer, graciously

Renew this heart of mine.

6 Still let new life and strength upspring,

Still let new joy be given;
And grant the glad new song to ring

Through the new earth and heaven.

Thomas H. Gill, 1867

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barvest and Thanksgiving ST. GEORGE'S, WINDSOR 7. 7. 7. 7. D.

George J. Elvey, 1858

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ple, come, Raise the song

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C'RE

1

ye

thankful peoplecome
Raise the song of harvest-home!
All is safely gathered in,
Ere the winter storms begin;
God, our Maker, doth provide
For our wants to be supplied:
Come to God's own temple, come,

Raise the song of harvest-home! 2 All the world is God's own field,

Fruit unto His praise to yield;
Wheat and tares together sown,
Unto joy or sorrow grown:
First the blade, and then the ear,
Then the full corn shall appear:-
Lord of harvest, grant that we
Wholesome grain and pure may be.

of har · vest · home!

A-men.

3 For the Lord our God shall come,

And shall take His harvest home;
From His field shall in that day
All offences purge away;
Give His angels charge at last
In the fire the tares to cast,
But the fruitful ears to store

In His garner evermore.
4 Even so, Lord, quickly come

To Thy final harvest-home;
Gather Thou Thy people in,
Free from sorrow, free from sin,
There for ever purified,
In Thy presence to abide:
Come, with all Thine angels, come,
Raise the glorious harvest-home!

Henry Alford, 1844 (text of 1867)

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