II. MORN hath dawned on Afric's night, Through a thousand opened doors Loud the cry for succour pours: Lord! increase a thousand-fold Labourers patient, wise, and bold. In the shadow of thy hand Gird thy sword upon thy thigh, Win the throne that shall abide. With thy truth the nations bless; Sow the earth with righteousness; Be the warrior's banner furled; Love and meekness fill the world! HYMN. (Written for use at the Annual Prayer-meetings of the Society for Irish Church Missions to Roman Catholics.) O FATHER, who hast showed us light, And with one heart and voice unite Thou art our God, the Lord of lords; And bind us each by sacred cords Great things for us thy hand hath done, Extend the triumphs of thy Son, And wider spread the Gospel day. Thy richest grace on Erin shower, So make her glorious, great, and free: And let her worship only Thee. Grant us to wage the hallowed strife, O Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, Now, from thy footstool and thy throne, From men, and from the angel-host, 1865. Be thine the glory-thine alone! OLD AND NEW YEAR. I. FOR thy mercy and thy grace, Lo! our sins on Thee we cast, And, forgetting all the past, Dark the future : let thy light Fierce our foes, and hard the fight; In our weakness and distress, In the pathless wilderness Be our true and living way. |