'Tis past, 't is o'er! in foul defeat (His live-long work of faith complete,) Thou wert my rock, my shield, my sword; 'T was in thy strength my heart was strong; Thy spirit went with mine along; How was I then alone?' TWENTY-SECOND SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY. O God, my sins are manifold, against my life they cry, And all my guilty deeds foregone, up to thy temple fly; Wilt thou release my trembling soul, that to despair is driven ? 'Forgive!' a blessed voice replied, and thou shalt be forgiven.' My foemen, Lord, are fierce and fell, they spurn me in their pride, They render evil for my good, my patience they deride; Arise, O King, and be the proud to righteous ruin driven. 'Forgive!' an awful answer came, 'as thou would'st be forgiven.' Seven times, O Lord, I pardoned them, seven times they sinned again : They practise still to work me wo, they triumph in my pain; But let them dread my vengeance now, to just resentment driven. 'Forgive!' the voice of thunder spake, or never be forgiven.' TWENTY-THIRD SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY. FROM foes that would the land devour; From blinded zeal by faction led; Defend, O God, with guardian hand, And grant our church thy grace to stand The spirit's help of thee we crave, That thou, whose blood was shed to save, Mayest, at thy second coming, have A flock to welcome thee. TWENTY-FOURTH SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY. To conquer and to save, the Son of God Who wont to ride on cherub wings abroad, The grave unbolted half his grisly door, FOR ST JAMES' DAY. THOUGH Sorrows rise and dangers roll Though conscience, fiercest of my foes, Though Sinai's curse, in thunder dread, O, by the pangs thyself hast borne, By these my pangs, whose healing smart Thou lov'st me, Lord, thou lov'st me still. |