Enough, that blessings undeserved Making the springs of time and sense That death seems but a covered way Which opens into light, Wherein no blinded child can stray Beyond the Father's sight. No longer forward or behind I look, in hope or fear, CONISTON. C.M. Sir JOSEPH Barnby. Ob 2 2564 A · MEN. O THOU, in all thy might so far, In all thy love so near, Beyond the range of sun and star, What heart can comprehend thy name, A Presence round about? Yet though I know thee but in part, To love thee and adore! Oh, sweeter than all else besides, The tender mystery THERE is a book, who runs may read, Which heavenly truth imparts, And all the lore its scholars need, Pure eyes and Christian hearts. The works of God, above, below, Within us and around, Are pages in that book, to show How God himself is found. The glorious sky, embracing all, Is like the Maker's love, Wherewith encompassed, great and small In peace and order move. Two worlds are ours: 't is only sin The mystic heaven and earth within, Thou who hast given us eyes to see And love this sight so fair, Give us a heart to find out thee, And read thee everywhere. AMEN. john Keble SURSUM CORDA. C.M. HÄNDEL. 64 564 A - MEN. 136. "O Lord, how manifold are thy works; in wisdom hast thou made them all." I SING the almighty power of God, That made the mountains rise; I sing the wisdom that ordained The moon shines full at his command, I sing the goodness of the Lord, That filled the earth with food; Lord, how thy wonders are displayed, Or gaze upon the sky. There's not a plant or flower below But makes thy glories known; And clouds arise and tempests blow By order from thy throne. His hand is my perpetual guard, Isaac Watts. COME, Holy Spirit, come, Come, sacred Guest, oh, quickly come, Exert thy mighty power, Come, strong Deliverer, quickly come, Rule thou in every thought And passion of my soul, Till all my powers are brought Come, peaceful Conqueror, quickly come, Then shall my days be thine, And all my heart be love; And joy and peace be mine, Such as are known above; Come, Holy Spirit, quickly come, And make my heart thy lasting home. AMEN. Andrew Reed. 1842. Whitsunday. COME deck our feast to-day, With flowers and wreaths of May: Makes earth his dwelling-place. Come with white souls your Lord to meet, And bring an offering pure and sweet. And oh, thou trackless wind, Thy glow within us move; Thy life our waiting souls inspire: O Spirit, stir our will Make thou thy temple and thy home! Be with us when we go or come! AMEN. B. Schmolke. |