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LORD Jesus, God and man,
In this our festal day

To Thee for precious gifts of grace
Thy ransomed people pray.

We pray for childlike hearts,
For gentle holy love,

For strength to do Thy will below
As angels do above.

We pray for simple faith,
For hope that never faints,
For true communion evermore
With all Thy blessed Saints.
On friends around us here

O let Thy blessing fall;

grace

We pray for to love them well,
But Thee beyond them all.

O joy to live for Thee!
O joy in Thee to die!
O very joy of joys to see
Thy Face eternally!

Lord Jesus, God and Man,

We praise Thee and adore,

Who art with God the Father One,
And Spirit evermore.

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How shall the young preserve their ways

From all pollution free?

By making still their course of life
With Thy commands agrèe.

With hearty zeal for Thee I seek,
To Thee for succour pray;
O suffer not my careless steps
From Thy right paths to stray!
Safe in my heart, and closely hid,
Thy word, my treasure lies;
To succour me with timely aid,
When sinful thoughts arise.
Secured by that my grateful soul
Shall ever bless Thy name:
O teach me then by Thy just laws
My future life to frame!

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O HOLY Lord, content to live
In a poor home, a lowly Child,
And in subjection meek to give
Obedience to Thy mother mild;
Lead every child that bears Thy name,
To walk in Thy pure upright way,
To dread the touch of sin and shame,
And humbly, like Thyself, obey.
O let not this world's scorching glow,
Thy Spirit's quickening dew efface,
Nor blast of sin too rudely blow,
And quench the trembling flame of grace.
Gather Thy lambs within Thine arm,
And gently in Thy bosom bear;

Keep them, O Lord, from hurt and harm,
And bid them rest for ever there.

So shall they, waiting here below,
Like Thee, their Lord, a little span,
In wisdom and in stature grow,
And favour with both God and man.

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By cool Siloam's shady rill

How sweet the lily grows!

How sweet the breath, beneath the hill,

Of Sharon's dewy rose!

Lo! such a child whose early feet

The paths of peace have trod;

Whose secret heart, with influence sweet,

Is upward drawn to God.

By cool Siloam's shady rill

The lily must decay;

The rose that blooms beneath the hill

Must shortly fade away.

And soon, too soon, the wintry hour

Of man's maturer age,

Will shake the soul with sorrow's pow'r
And stormy passions rage.

O! Thou, Whose infant feet were found

Within Thy father's shrine!

Whose years with changeless virtue crown'd,
Were all alike divine:

Dependent on Thy bounteous breath,

We seek Thy grace alone,

In childhood, manhood, age, and death
To keep us still Thine own!

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WE are little Christian children,
We can run, and talk, and play;
The Great God of earth and heaven
Made, and keeps us every day.
We are little Christian children;
Christ the Son of God Most High,
With His precious blood redeemed us,
Dying that we might not die.

We are little Christian children,
God the Holy Ghost is here,
Dwelling in our hearts, to make us,
Kind, and holy, good, and dear.
We are little Christian children,
Saved by Him Who loved us most,
We believe in God Almighty,
Father, Son, and Holy Ghost.

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EVERY morning the red sun
Rises warm and bright,
But the evening cometh on,
And the dark cold night.

There's a bright land far away,

Where 'tis never ending day.

Every spring the sweet young flowers

Open bright and gay,

Till the chilly autumn hours

Wither them away.

There's a land we have not seen,

Where the trees are always green.

Little birds sing songs of praise
All the summer long,

But in colder, shorter days,
They forget their song.

There's a place where Angels sing
Ceaseless praises to their King.

Christ our Lord is ever near
Those who follow Him,

But we cannot see Him here,
For our eyes are dim.

There is a most happy place,
Where men always see His face.

Who shall go to that bright land?
All who do the right:

Holy children there shall stand,
In their robes of white,

For that Heaven so bright and blest,
Is our everlasting rest.

209.

P. M.

O PRAISE ye the Lord,
Prepare your glad voice,
His praise in the great
Assembly to sing:
In our great Creator
Let Israel rejoice:
And children of Sion
Be glad in their King.

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