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INTEGER. IIS, 5.

F. F. FLEMMING.

Night's shadows fall-ing, men to rest are call -ing; Rest we, possess - ing heavenly peace and

bless-ing: This we im-plore thee, fall-ing down be-fore thee, Great King of Glo

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"King of Glory!"

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Evening confession.

NIGHT's shadows falling, men to rest are FROM the recesses of a lowly spirit,

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2 O Saviour, hear us! Son of God, be We hear thy voice; it counsels and it courts near us!

us:

Thine angels send us; let thy love attend us: And then we turn away; and still thy kindHe nothing feareth, whom thy presence

cheereth,

Light his path cleareth.

3 Be near, relieving all who now are grieving;

Thy visitation be our consolation:

ness

Forgives our blindness.

3 Oh, how long-suffering, Lord! but thou

delightest,

To win with love the wandering; thou invitest,

Oh, hear the sighing of the faint and dying; By smiles of mercy, not by frowns or terrors,
Lord, hear our crying!
Man from his errors.

4 Thou ever livest; endless life thou givest; 4 Father and Saviour! plant within each Thou watch art keeping o'er thy faithful

sleeping;

bosom

The seeds of holiness, and bid them blossom In thy clear shining they are now reclining, In fragrance and in beauty bright and vernal, All care resigning.

And spring eternal.

5 O Lord of Glory, praise we and adore 5 Then place them in thine everlasting theegardens,

Thee for us given, our true Rest from Where angels walk, and seraphs are the heaven!

wardens;

Rest, peace, and blessing, we are now pos- Where ev'ry flower, escaped through death's sessing,

dark portal,

Thy name confessing.

Arthur T. Russell.

Becomes immortal.

John Bowring.

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HOLY Father! we address thee-
Loved in thy beloved Son;
Holy Son of God, we bless thee,
Boundless grace hath made us one;
Holy Spirit, aid our songs,
This glad work to thee belongs.

2 Wondrous was thy love, O Father!
Wondrous thine, O Son of God!
Vast the love that bruised and wounded,

Vast the love that bore the rod;

Holy Spirit, still reveal

How those stripes alone can heal.

3 Gracious Father! thy good pleasure Is to love us as thy Son, Meting out the self-same measure,

Since thou seest us as one. Blessed Jesus, loved are we, As the Father loveth thee.

4 Hallelujah! we are hasting

To our Father's house above;
By the way our souls are tasting
Rich and everlasting love;
In Jehovah is our boast,
Father, Son, and Holy Ghost!

Mrs. Mary B. Peters,

GENNESARET.

IOS. 61.

H. SMART.

The day is gently sinking to a close, Fainter and yet more faint the sunlight glows; 0 Brightness of thy Father's glory, thou,

Eternal Light of light, be with us now; Where thou art present, darkness cannot be: Midnight is glorious noon, O Lord, with thee.

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Come, Lord, in lonesome days, when storms assail,

And earthly hopes and human succors fail: When all is dark, may we behold thee nigh, And hear thy voice, "Fear not, for it is I." 3 The weary world is mouldering to decay, Its glories wane, its pageants fade away;

Midnight is glorious noon, O Lord, with In that last sunset, when the stars shall

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Holy Father! we address thee-Loved in thy be-lov-ed Son; Ho-ly Son of God, we bless thee,

Boundless grace hath made us one; Ho-ly Spir-it, aid our songs, This glad work to thee be-longs.

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217 "Go in peace." SAVIOUR, again to thy dear name we raise With one accord our parting hymn of praise; We rise to bless thee ere our worship cease, And now, departing, wait thy word of peace.

2 Grant us thy peace upon our homeward way;

With thee began, with thee shall end the day; Guard thou the lips from sin, the hearts

from shame,

3 Grant us thy peace, Lord, through the coming night;

Turn thou for us its darkness into light; From harm and danger keep thy children free,

For dark and light are both alike to thee. 4 Grant us thy peace throughout our earthly life,

Our balm in sorrow, and our stay in strife; Then, when thy voice shall bid our conflict

cease,

That in this house have called upon thy name. Call us, O Lord, to thine eternal

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EVENTIDE. IOS.

93

W. H. MONK.

Abide with me: fast falls the e- ven-tide; The darkness deepens; Lord, with me a- bide!

When oth-er helpers fail, and comforts flee, Help of the helpless, oh, a bide with me!

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Left in each bosom from the day just past,

3 I fear no foe, with thee at hand to bless, Ills have no weight, and tears no bitterness: Where is Death's sting? where, Grave, thy And let us on a Father's loving heart Forget our griefs, and find sweet rest at last.

victory?

I triumph still, if thou abide with me.

Richard Massie, tr.

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