Abide with us from morn till eve,
For without Thee we cannot live;
Abide with us when night is nigh,
For without Thee we dare not die.
Thou Framer of the light and dark,
Steer through the tempest Thine own ark,
Amid the howling wintry sea,
We are in port if we have Thee.
The Rulers of this Christian land,
"Twixt Thee and us ordained to stand,
Guide Thou their course, O Lord, aright,
Let all do all as in Thy sight.
Oh! by Thine own sad burthen, borne
So meekly up the hill of scorn,
Teach Thou Thy priests their daily Cross,
To bear as Thine, nor count it loss.
If some poor wandering child of Thine,
Have spurned to-day the voice Divine,
Now, Lord, the gracious work begin,
Let him no more lie down in sin.
Watch by the sick; enrich the poor
With blessings from Thy boundless store;
Be every mourner's sleep to-night,
Like infant's slumbers, pure and light.
Come near and bless us when we wake,
Ere through the world our way we take,
'Till in the ocean of Thy love
We lose ourselves in Heaven above.
Praise God, from Whom all blessings flow, Praise Him, all creatures here below; Praise Him above, angelic host,
Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost. [120]
The hymn, Creator, Spirit! used for Whit-Sunday, will serve for the hymn before the Sermon, and that next following will serve for the hymn after the Sermon, and before the Order of Confirmation commences.
VENI, SANCTE SPIRITUS.
COME, Holy Ghost! send down those beams,
Which gently flow in silent streams
From Thy bright Throne above:
Come, Thou Enricher of the poor,
And bounteous Source of all our store,
Come, fill us with Thy love.
Come Thou, our souls' most welcome guest,
The wearied pilgrim's sweetest rest;
The sufferer's best relief;
Come, Thou, our passions cool allay,
Whose comfort wipes all tears away,
And turns to joy all grief.
Come, Thou bright Sun, shoot home Thy darts,
Pierce to the centre of our hearts,
And make our faith love Thee;
Without Thy grace, without Thy light,
Our strength is weakness, our day night,
We cannot move or see.
Lord, wash our sinful stains away,
Water from heaven our barren clay,
Our many bruises heal:
To Thy sweet yoke our stiff necks bow,
Warm with Thy fire our hearts of snow,
Our wandering feet repeal.
O grant Thy faithful, dearest Lord,
Whose only hope is Thy sure word,
The seven gifts of Thy Spirit;
Grant us in life to obey Thy grace,
Grant us in death to see Thy face,
And endless joys inherit.
All glory to the Sacred Three,
One Ever-living Deity,
All power, and bliss, and praise;
As at the first, when time begun,
May the same homage still be done,
Till time itself decays.
At Morning Prayer or immediately after, the following hymn will serve.
POUR out Thy Spirit from on high,
Lord, Thine assembled servants bless;
Graces and gifts to each supply,
And clothe Thy priests with righteousness.
Within Thy temple when they stand,
To teach the truth, as taught by Thee,
Saviour, like stars in Thy right hand,
Let all the Church's Pastors be.
Wisdom, and zeal, and faith impart,
Firmness and meekness, from above,
To bear Thy people on their heart,
And love the souls Whom Thou dost love.
To watch and pray, and never faint,
By day and night on guard to keep,
To warm the sinner, cheer the saint,
Nourish Thy lambs, and feed Thy sheep.
Then, when their work is finished here,
Let them in hope their charge resign,
When the Chief Shepherd shall appear,
May they with crowns of glory shine.
To God, the Blessed Three in One,
From every soul all glory be :
Crown, Lord, Thy servants who shall run
The race, and gain the victory.
Or the hymn, Awful is the priestly state, used for the Second Sunday after Easter.
For a Day of National Humiliation.
DREAD Jehovah, God of nations,
From Thy Temple in the skies,
Hear Thy people's supplications,
Now for their deliverance rise.
Lo! with deep contrition turning,
Humbly at Thy feet we bend;
Hear us praying, fasting, mourning,
Hear us, spare us, and defend.
Though our sins, our hearts confounding,
Long and loud for vengeance call,
Thou hast mercy more abounding,
Jesu's blood can cleanse them all.
Let that love veil our transgression,
Let that Blood our guilt efface,
Save Thy people from oppression,
Father, Son, and Spirit of Grace.
For a Day of National Thanksgiving.
BEFORE Jehovah's awful throne,
Ye nations bow with sacred joy;
Know that the Lord is God alone,
He can create, and He destroy.
His sovereign power without our aid
Made us of clay, and formed us men ;
And when like wandering sheep we strayed,
He brought us to His fold again.
We'll crowd Thy gates with thankful songs,
High as the Heavens' our voices raise,
And earth, with her ten thousand tongues,
Shall fill Thy Courts with sounding praise.
Wide as the world is Thy command,
Vast as eternity Thy love;
Firm as Thyself Thy truth shall stand
When rolling years have ceased to move.
To God Who hears and answers prayer,
The Father, Son, and Spirit Blest,
Who for His own still taketh care,
By all be constant praise address'd.
Laying the First Stone of a Church.
O LORD of Hosts, Whose glory fills,
The bounds of the eternal hills,
And yet vouchsafes in Christian lands
To dwell in temples made with hands:
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