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Its joy so eager, zest of life so strong;
Each glimpse of beauty lovelier than the last,
Each leap of thought winged to exultant song.
And now thine after-gift, this hush of night,

Falls with its reverence of completing grace;
Father, by day we glimpsed thy raiment bright,
Soothe now our silenced souls to see thy face.

That thus, with thee, all else of life forgot,

With thee we fold these precious hours away;
That thus, O God, with thee who slumberest not
We wait thy glory of another day.

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44.

"Praise ye the Lord; for it is good to sing praises
unto our God."

HEAVEN and earth, and sea and air,
Still their Maker's praise declare;
Thou, my soul, rejoicing sing,
To thy God thy praises bring.
See the sun his power awakes,
As through clouds his glory breaks;
See the moon and stars of light
Praising God in stillest night.
See how God this rolling globe
Swathes with beauty as a robe;
Forests, fields, and living things
Each his Maker's glory sings.
Through the air thy praises meet,
Birds are singing clear and sweet;
Fire and storm and wind, thy will
As thy ministers fulfil.

Ocean waves thy glory tell,

At thy touch they sink and swell;
From the well-spring to the sea,
Rivers murmur, Lord, of thee.
Ah, my God, what wonders lie
Hid in thine infinity!
Stamp upon my inmost heart
What I am, and what thou art!

Joachim Neander. Tr. by J. D. Burns.

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FATHER and Friend, thy light, thy love, Beaming through all thy works, we see ; Thy glory gilds the heavens above,

And all the earth is full of thee.

Thy voice we hear, thy presence feel, Whilst thou, too pure for mortal sight, Involved in clouds, invisible,

Reignest the Lord of life and light. 1 We know not in what hallowed part

Of the wide heavens thy throne may be ; But this we know, that where thou art Strength, wisdom, goodness, dwell with thee.

Thy children shall not faint nor fear,

Sustained by this delightful thought, Since thou, their God, art everywhere, They cannot be where thou art not. John Bowring.

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IN quiet hours the tranquil soul
Reflects the beauty of the sky:
No passions rise or billows roll,
And only God and heaven are nigh.
The tides of being ebb and flow,

Creating peace without alloy :

A sacred happiness we know,

Too high for mirth, too deep for joy. Like birds that slumber on the sea, Unconscious where the current runs, We rest on God's infinity

Of bliss, that circles stars and suns. His perfect peace has swept from sight The narrow bounds of time and space, And looking up with still delight We catch the glory of his face.

Augusta Larned.

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