Unwillingly we draw

The just avenging sword,

And in the name of Right and Law

Implore Thy blessing, LORD!

We strove for peace in vain,

And Mesech chose the fight;

Therefore, O Thou, by Whom kings reign,Our GOD! Defend the Right.

M

Two Harvest Hymns

FOR MDCCCLIV.

GIVE thanks, happy Nation! for Mercy rejoices
O'er Judgment to Triumph and fill us with food:

Be glad, O ye People! and lift up your voices
To Him who is ever the Giver of good.

What thanks shall we render?-Ah, sinful and earthy, The praises we bring are too few and too cold,Redeemer! make Thou this poor offering worthy,

And pour out Thy Spirit on us, as of old.

For truly to Thee our fervent desire

Would go forth in grateful acknowledgment here, But only Thy heart-stirring grace can inspire

The love that is life and that casteth out fear.

Ah! well may we fear Thee,-whose judgments are sounding In thunders of wrath and in trumpets of woe;

And well may we love Thee,-whose mercies abounding In rivers of peace and prosperity flow.

Yet let us not boast, like a Dives possessing
Garners of wheat with enough and to spare;
But humbly and thankfully taking the blessing

Praise the good Giver, and seek Him in pray'r!

Second Hymn.

DEAR heart of old England! be glad and rejoice
For blessed abundance on basket and store,-
And raise the thanksgiving with national voice
To Him, by whose bounty we live evermore.

While Judgment, in pestilence, famine and sword,
Might well have rebuked us for folly and sin,
Thy Mercy hath triumph'd, and fed us, good LORD!

With plenty and health and contentment within.

Too truly, the hurricane thunders of war

Are heard in the distance and soon shall increase, But while the storm threatens and rages afar

Our dwellings are safe in the blessings of peace:

Too truly, the angel of death in the air

Is hovering, and scarcely withholdeth his hand, But, King of that Angel! in pity forbear,

Remember Araunah, and favour the land!

O Nation! what People beside is so blest?
What People so thankful and holy should be?
O Father and Shepherd! who givest us rest,
Thy children and sheep of Thy pasture are we.

Then, Praise be to GOD, for the fruits of the field,
This harvest of gold in the lap of the soil,
This grateful return Earth hasteth to yield

By Heaven's own blessing on dutiful toil!