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8s, 7s. 81. We are living, we are dwelling,

In a grand and awful time,
In an age on ages telling ;

To be living is sublime.
Hark, the waking up of nations,

Gog and Magog to the fray :
Hark, what soundeth ? is creation

Groaning for its latter day? 2 Worlds are charging, heaven beholding,

Thou hast but an hour to fight; Now the blazoned cross unfolding,

On, right onward, for the right ! On ! let all the soul within you

For the truth's sake go abroad. Strike ! let every nerve and sinew

Tell on ages, tell for God.

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A. C. Coxe.


SOLDIERS of the cross, arise,

Gird you with your armor bright;
Mighty are your enemies,

Hard the battle ye must fight. 2 O’er a faithless fallen world

Raise your banner in the sky; Let it float there wide unfurled ;

Bear it onward ; lift it high. 3 'Mid the homes of want and woe,

Strangers to the living word, Let the Saviour's herald go,

Let the voice of hope be heard. 4 Where the shadows deepest lie,

Carry truth's unsullied ray ; Where are crimes of blackest dye,

There the saving sign display.

5 To the weary and the worn

Tell of realms where sorrows cease ; To the outcast and forlorn

Speak of mercy and of peace. 6 Guard the helpless ; seek the strayed ;

Comfort troubles ; banish grief ; In the might of God arrayed,

Scatter sin and unbelief.
7 Be the banner still unfurled,

Still unsheathed the Spirit's sword,
Till the kingdoms of the world
Are the kingdom of the Lord.

W. W. How.


C. M. The Lord will come and not be slow,

His footsteps cannot err;
Before Him righteousness shall go,

His royal harbinger. 2 Mercy and truth that long were missed,

Now joyfully are met ; Sweet peace and righteousness have kissed,

And hand in hand are set.
3 Truth from the earth, like to a flower,

Shall bud and blossom then ;
And Justice, from her heavenly bower,
Look down on mortal men.

J. Milton.


8,7,8,7,4,7. SAINTS of God! the dawn is bright’ning

Token of our coming Lord ;
O'er the earth the field is whit’ning ;
Louder rings the Master's word :

Pray for reapers
In the harvest of the Lord !

2 Now, O Lord, fulfil Thy pleasure,

Breathe upon Thy chosen band, And, with Pentecostal measure, Send forth reapers o'er our land ;

Faithful reapers Gathering sheaves for Thy right hand. 3 Broad the shadow of our nation,

Eager millions hither roam ;
Lo! they wait for Thy salvation ;
Come, Lord Jesus, quickly come ;

By Thy Spirit
Bring Thy ransomed people home.
4 Soon shall end the time of weeping,

Soon the reaping time will come ;
Heaven and earth together keeping
God's eternal Harvest-Home.

Saints and angels
Shout the world's great Harvest-Home.

M. Maxwell.


11s, 10s. Hail to the brightness of Zion's glad morn

ing, Joy to the lands that in darkness have

lain ! Hush'd be the accents of

sorrow and mourning, Zion in triumph begins her mild reign.

2 Hail to the brightness of Zion's glad morn

ing, Long by the prophets of Israel foretold ; Hail to the millions from bondage return

ing! Gentiles and Jews the blest vision behold.

3 Lo, in the desert rich flowers are spring

ing, Streams ever copious are gliding along; Loud from the mountain-tops echoes are

ringing, Wastes rise in verdure and mingle in

song 4 See, from all lands, from the isles of the

ocean, Praise to Jehovah ascending on high ; Fallen are the engines of war and commo

Shouts of salvation are rending the sky.



8,8,8,6. SEND Thou, O Lord, to every place Swift messengers before Thy face, The heralds of Thy wondrous grace,

Where Thou, Thyself, wilt come. 2 Send men whose eyes have seen the King,

Men in whose ears His sweet words ring ; Send such Thy lost ones home to bring ;

Send them where Thou wilt come.

3 To bring good news to souls in sin ;

The bruised and broken hearts to win ;
In every place to bring them in ;

Where Thou, Thyself, wilt come.
4 Thou who hast died, Thy victory claim ;

Assert, O Christ, Thy glory's name,
And far to lands of pagan shame,

Send men where Thou wilt come.


5 Gird each one with the Spirit's sword,

The sword of Thine own deathless word ; And make them conquerors, conquering

Where Thou, Thyself, wilt come. 6 Raise up, O Lord the Holy Ghost,

From this broad land a mighty host,
Their war-cry, “We will seek the lost,
Where Thou, O Christ, wilt come !"

Mrs. Merrill E. Gates. 712

8,8,8,4. O LORD of heaven and earth and sea, To Thee all praise and glory be; How shall we show our love to Thee,

Who givest all? 2 The golden sunshine, vernal air,

Sweet flowers and fruit Thy love declare ; When harvests ripen, Thou art there,

Who givest all.
3 For peaceful homes, and heathful days,

For all the blessings earth displays,
We owe Thee thankfulness and praise,

Who givest all.
4 Thou didst not spare Thine only Son,

But gav'st Him for a world undone,
And freely with that blessed one

Thou givest all.
5 Thou giv'st the Spirit's holy dower,

Spirit of life, and love, and power,
And dost His sevenfold graces shower

Upon us all.
6 For souls redeemed, for sins forgiven,

For means of grace and hopes of heaven, What can to Thee, O Lord, be given,

Who givest all ?

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