1 W SEXAGESIMA SUNDAY. PSALM XXIV. 187 Isaiah lviii. 13. L M, ELCOME blest Day,of days the best, 2 This is employment all divine ! 4 Glory to God, whose love assigns 5 In holy duties may this day, And hail that day, while this we spend, 6 Hail best of days, that God ordain'd, Psalm xxxiv cxiii. cxxxix. cxlv. 158. QUINQUAGESIMA SUNDAY. PSALM XXVI. 188 .1 Cor. xiii. HO' perfect eloquence adorn TH C. M. With sweet persuasive tongue, 2 Though liberal gifts the hand imparts; Of charity and love, 3 LOVE suffers long, Love envies not, dve glows with social tenderness; 4 Love still shall hold an endless reign, When tongues shall cease, and prophets fail, 5 Now darkly seen, as through à glass, Then shall we see as face to face, And Góp shall be unveil'd. Faith, hope and love now dwell on earth, But faith and hope must yield to love, Hope shall to full fruition rise, But love shall triumph to the end; ASH WEDNESDAY. 1 PSALM VI. The lamentation of a sinner.* 189 LORD, turn not Thy face away Lamenting sore his many sins, Before Thy mercy's gate, C. M. LORD, I come to Thy throne of grace, To heat my soul's deep wound. The circumstances of my sins, Thou know'st them all, and more, much more 4 O LORD, I need not to repeat, For Thou dost know, before I ask, 5 Mercy, good LORD, mercy I ask, For mercy, LORD, is all my suit, Psalm xxxix. cxlii. cxlvi 163. From the Old Vession, THE FIRST SUNDAY IN LENT. 1 1GR PSALM XXXÍI. LI. 190 L. M. REAT Judge of all, Eternal King! My GOD! my SAVIOUR! and my FRIEND! 2 Surrounded with amazing fears, fsigh and weep, accept my tears; Reject not my unworthy prayer; My guilty soul in mercy spare. 3 Thou, who for man didst feel such pain; Whose precious blood the cross did stain, Forget not what my ransom cost, Nor let my dear-bought soul be los 4 Thou, who wert mov'd with Mary's grief 5 My God, what interèst can I make, Psalm xlii. ciii. Altered from Lord Roscommon's Dies Iræ. T THE SECOND SUNDAY IN LENT. `1 WTM ITH joy we meditate the grace His heart is made of tenderness, Of faithfulness and love. 2 Touch'd with a sympathy within, 3 He, in the days of feeble flesh, Pour'd out strong cries and tears: Heb. v. And in His measure feels afresh, What ev'ry member bears. 4 He'll never quench the smoaking flax, The bruised reed He never breaks, 3 Then, let our humble faith address Psalm i, xli. Ixxxvi. cvili. cxt. |