The Mission of Christ.

CVIII.

DODDRIDGE.

HARK! the glad sound! the Saviour comes,
The Saviour promised long;
Let every heart a throne prepare,

And every voice a song.

On him the spirit, largely poured,

Exerts its holy fire;

Wisdom and might, and zeal and love,
His sacred breast inspire.

He comes the prisoners to release,
In wretched bondage held :

The gates of brass before him burst,
The iron fetters yield.

He comes, from thickest films of vice
To clear the mental ray ;

And on the eye-balls of the blind,
To pour celestial day.

He comes, the broken heart to bind,
The bleeding soul to cure ;
And, with the treasures of his grace,
To enrich the humble poor.

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The Modern Pharisees.

Our glad hosannas, Prince of peace!
Thy welcome shall proclaim ;
And heaven's eternal arches ring
With thy beloved name.

The Modern Pharisees.

CIX.

M. W. CHAPMAN.

There are who hate God's truth and laws :-
There are who plead the oppressor's cause;
There are whose base degenerate souls,
The breath of wealth and power controls.

State of the Church and the Ministry.

KEBLE.

Oh grief to think, that grapes of gall

Should cluster round the healthiest shoot!

God's herald prove a heartless thrall,

Who, if he dared, would fain be mute!

Even such in this bad world we see,
Who, self-condemned in owning Thee,

Yet, dare not open farewell of Thee take,

For very pride, and their high-boasted Reason's sake.

Hymn for the Monthly Concert.
On robbery and wrong they smile-
Confound the precious with the vile;
Nor dare they meet the hate and loss
That waits the followers of the cross.

Forgive, oh Lord, the weight of shame
They bring upon a Saviour's name;
And from their tender mercies, save
The tortured and insulted slave !

Forgive their sins :-our efforts bless
To lead their souls to righteousness;
And, for the dawn of Freedom's day,
Lord, teach their willing hearts to pray!

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Hymn for the Monthly Concert.
CX.

'BREAK every yoke,' the Gospel cries,
'And let the oppressed go free';
Let every captive taste the joys
Of peace and liberty.

Lord, when shall man thy voice obey,
And rend each iron chain,

O when shall love its golden sway
O'er all the earth maintain.

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Fourth of July.

Send thy good Spirit from above,
And melt the oppressor's heart,
Send sweet deliverance to the slave,
And bid his woes depart.

With freedom's blessings crown his day—
O'erflow his heart with love,
Teach him that strait and narrow way,
Which leads to rest above.

Fourth of July.

CXI.

LYDIA H. SIGOURNEY.

WE have a goodly clime,

Broad vales and streams we boast,
Our mountain frontiers frown sublime,
Old Ocean guards our coast;
Suns bless our harvest fair,

With fervid smile serene,

But a dark shade is gathering there-
What can its blackness mean ?

Fourth of July.

We have a birth-right proud,

For our young sons to claim-
An eagle soaring o'er the cloud,
In freedom and in fame.
We have a scutcheon bright,

By our dead fathers bought:
A fearful blot disdains its white-
Who hath such evil wrought?

Our banner o'er the sea

Looks forth with starry eye, Emblazoned glorious, bold and free, A letter on the sky

What hand with shameful stain

Hath marred its heavenly blue?

The yoke, the fasces, and the chain,
Say, are these emblems true?

Fourth of July.

I gazed! and O 't was freedom's land,
Columbia's sunny shore,

With glorious struggle hand in hand,
Her noble sons, a patriot band,

For homes and altars took their stand,
Resolved to stoop no more.

Bright did the conquering banner wave,

On every mountain crest;

But while the civic armies gave

Their thrilling shout, Be free ye brave ’—

Again I marked the withering slave

At mammon's foot, oppressed!

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