Hymns for the Thanksgiving-Day, 1759, 1

Great God of all-victorious grace,
Assist us worthily to praise
Thy glorious majesty:
Saved from the peril of the sword,
We fain would magnify the Lord,
And make our boast of Thee.

Upheld by Thine almighty hand,
Conquerors on every side, we stand,
And see our foes cast down.
Author of all our God we bless,
Our whole miraculous success
Ascribe to God alone.

Thy single arm the victories gave,
And show'd. Thou art not bound to save
By many or by few:
Number and strength of hosts is vai'n;
Weakness itself, if Thou ordain,
Shall earth and hell subdue.

Worship and power to God belongs!
Saviour, let our triumphal songs
Thine only praise record:
Some in their fleets and armies trust,
But we of God will make our boast,
And glory in the Lord.

Wide as our conquering arms extend.
Throughout the earth the news we send.
The joyous news proclaim,
Tell it to all the nations round
Salvation on our side is found,
And Jesus is His name!

Jesus hath saved our souls from death!
Let all who by Thy mercy breathe,
Thy mercy taste and see!
Claim, Lord, and take the purchased race.
And let the world, redeem'd by grace,
Rejoice to God in Thee.
HYMN n.
But ah! what means this frantic noise!
Do these, good God, to Thee rejoice,
Whose echoing shouts we hear!
A beastly bacchanalian crowd!
Whose oaths profane, and curses loud,
Torment the sober ear?
With foul and riotous excess,
With surfeiting and drunkenness.
They magnify Thy name;
With vauntings proud, and impious jest,
(The horrors of Belshazzar's feast,)
They glory in their shame.
TJic TJianksgiving-Day. I(i5

The rich to Thy dread courts repair,
And offering up their formal prayer
As incense to the skies,
With sports they close the hallow'd day,
Their promised vows to Satan pay,
An hellish sacrifice!

But do ye thus the Lord requite,
(While Britabis host goes forth to fight,)
Or thus His help engage?
Ah! foolish souls, who still declare
Your hatred against God, and war
With your Defender wage!

Ye rob Britannia of her shield,
Jehovah, by "your thanks" compell'd
To join the vanquish'd side,
Ye force Him to exalt the foe,
To lay our lofty nation low.
And scourge us for our pride.

Yet, O most patient God, forbear
The wretches who Thy anger dare,
And court the' invader's sword;
Rather regard the faithful seed,
Who to the opening seal give heed,
And tremble at Thy word.

We do not dream the danger past!
The first may soon become the last,
Unless Thine hand we see
Extended o'er the nations now,
And humbly to Thy judgments bow,
And ask our lives from Thee.
16G Hynms to be used on

Our lives are in our Maker's hand,
And till Thy mind we understand,
Thine utmost counsel prove,
O let us in the Spirit groan.
Father, Thy will on earth be done,
As in the courts above!