Psalms and Hymns Index
Van Deusen/Kosinski Collection

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PAGE 426:

HYMN 107. L.M.
For a public Fast in war, praying for Peace. (cont.)

  1 WAR, horrid war, deep stain'd in blood,
Still pours its havoc thro' our land;
Almighty God, restrain the flood;
Say "'tis enough!" and stay thine hand.
  2 Let peace descend with balmy wing,
And all her blessings round us shed;
Our liberties be well secur'd,
And commerce lift its fainting head.
  3 Let the loud cannon cease to roar,
The warlike trump no longer sound;
The din of arms be heard no more,
Nor human blood pollute the ground.
  4 Let hostile troops drop from their hands
The useless sword, the glitt'ring spear;
And join in friendship's sacred bands,
Nor one dissentient voice be there.
  5 Thus save, O Lord, a sinking land;
Millions of tongues shall then adore,
Resound the honours of thy name,
And spread thy praise from shore to shore.

HYMN 108. C.M.
On a public Fast during national Judgments.

  1 SEE, gracious Lord, before thy throne,
   Thy mourning people bend!
'Tis on thy sovereign grace alone,
   Our humble hopes depend.
  2 Tremendous judgments from thy hand
   Thy dreadful pow'r display;
Yet mercy spares this guilty land,
   And still we live to pray.
  3 How chang'd, alas! For truths divine
   See error, guilt and shame!

PAGE 427

HYMN 108. C.M.
On a public Fast during national Judgments. (cont.)

  3 What impious numbers, bold in sin,
Disgrace the Christian name!
  4 O! turn us, turn us, mighty Lord,
   By thy resistless grace;
Then shall our hearts obey thy word,
   And humbly seek thy face.
  5 Then, should insulting foes invade,
   We shall not sink in fear;
Secure of never-failing aid,
   Since God, our God, is near.

HYMN 109. C.M.
On a Fast-day during Pestilence or general Sickness.

  1 DEATH, with his dread commission seal'd,
   Now hastens to his arms;
In awful state he takes the field,
   And sounds his dire alarms.
  2 Attendant plagues around him throng,
   And wait his high command:
And pains, and dying groans, obey
   The signal of his hand.
  3 With cruel force he scatters round
   His shafts of deadly pow'r;
While the grave waits his destin'd prey,
   Impatient to devour.
  4 Diseases are thy servants, Lord,
   They come at thy command:
We'll not attempt a murm'ring word,
   Against thy chast'ning hand.
  5 Yet, may we plead with humble cries,
   Remove thy sharp rebukes:
Our strength comsumes, our spirit dies,
   Thro' thy repeated strokes.
  6 In anger, Lord, rebuke us not,
   Withdraw these dreadful storms:


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