The Twenty-fourth Sunday after Trinity.
The hymn, Awful is the priestly state, used for the Second Sunday after Easter, will serve for the first hymn, and the hymn, When our heads are bowed with woe, used for the Sixteenth Sunday after Trinity, will serve for the second hymn.
The Twenty-fifth Sunday after Trinity.
The hymn, Come to a desert place, used for the Seventh Sunday after Trinity, will serve for the first hymn for this day.
His are the cattle on the hills,
The flocks are in His sight;
The fowls that on the mountain dwell,
The beasts that roam by night.
Yet He Who owns this countless host,
The Lord of earth and sky,
Commands that nothing should be lost,
No fragment useless lie.
Learn we from this, unceasing care
Of all our gifts to take;
And every day the heart's deep prayer
For every grace to make.
Our wealth, in large or scanty store,
But for one hour is lent;
In the world's vain or selfish lore
No portion must be spent.
Our time, most precious gift of all,
If saved and used aright;
Let not one moment useless fall,
Spend all, as in His sight.
Our feeble frames to cheer and rest,
Sweet sleep and food are given;
So may we use them as may best
Prepare our souls for Heaven.
Our souls' high worth Thou knowest, Lord,
For Thou hast paid the cost;
Such grace to us do Thou afford
That none of them be lost.
To God the Father, God the Son,
And God the Holy Ghost,
All honour by the Church be done,
And by the heavenly host.
Of all the honours man may wear,
Of all his titles proudly stored,
No lowly palm this name shall bear,
The first to follow Christ the Lord.
Such name Thou hast Who didst incline,
Fired with the great forerunner's joy,
Homeward to track the steps Divine,
And watch the Saviour's blest employ.
Lord, give to us, Thy servants, grace
To hear whene'er Thy preachers speak;
When Thou commandest, Seek My face,
Thy face in earnest hope to seek.
Thus with the glorious company
Of Thine Apostles may we raise,
Through all eternity to Thee,
Glad hymns of never-ending praise.
To Father, Son, and Holy Ghost,
All glory be as was of old,
Who calleth us in darkness lost
His saving glory to behold.
CELESTIS AULE PRINCIPES.
YE captains of a heavenly host,
Ye princes of a heavenly hall,
Stars in a world in darkness lost,
And judges at its funeral.
Lights rising o'er a wintry night,
With tidings of eternal youth,
On error's long-bewilder'd sight,
Emerging with the lamp of truth.
Captains, but not of spear and shield,
No rebel hosts with steel to tame,
No arms of eloquence to wield,
Nought but the lowly cross of shame.
The chain is riven, and broke the rod,
The world's long, stern captivity,
And we are free to serve our God,
Whose yoke alone is liberty.
To distant lands His heralds fleet,
By God's mysterious presence led;
How beauteous are their passing feet,
Like morn upon the mountains spread!
To Father, Son, and Holy Ghost,
All glory be as was of old,
Who calleth us in darkness lost
His saving glory to behold.
Saint Thomas the Apostle.
Why lived I not in those blest days
When men could see their Lord?
They felt His hand, they saw His face,
And heard His holy word.
But, if no more we hear His voice,
Yet still to us He calls;
His messengers prepare His way,
And speak within His walls.
And though the Son to heaven is gone,
The Comforter is given,
In the right path to lead us on,
And teach the way to heaven.
Teach us to feel our quiet way
In faith, and not in sight,
To lean upon Thy unseen grace,
And walk by Thy true light.
All glory and all praise to Thee
Who hast in this our night
Disclosed, Thrice Holy Trinity,
Thine everlasting light.
THE Son of God goes forth to war,
A kingly crown to gain :
His blood-red banner streams afar;
Who follows in His train?
Who best can drink his cup of woe,
Triumphant over pain;
Who patient bears his cross below,
He follows in His train.
The martyr first, whose eagle eye
Could pierce beyond the grave;
Who saw his Master in the sky,
And called on Him to save.
Like Him, with pardon on his tongue,
In midst of mortal pain,
He prayed for them that did the wrong;
Who follows in His train ?
A glorious band, the chosen few
On whom the Spirit came;
Twelve valiant saints, their hope they knew,
And mocked the cross and flame.
They met the tyrant's brandished steel,
The lion's gory mane:
They bowed their necks the death to feel.
Who follows in their train?
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