From Greenland's Jcy Mountains. BISHOP HEBER.-Music by Sir H. Bishop. 'ROM Greenland's icy mountains, FF From India's coral strand, Roll down their golden sand, Their land from error's chain. What though the spicy breezes Can we whose souls are lighted Till each remotest nation Has learnt Messiah's Name. Waft, waft, ye winds, His story, Till like a sea of glory It spreads from pole to pole, Wisdom. Till o'er our ransom'd nature The Lamb for sinners slain, In bliss returns to reign. Amen. 383 Sound the Loud Timbrel. THOMAS MOORE.—Air, Avison. OUND the loud timbrel o'er Egypt's dark sea, Jehovah has triumph'd-His people are free. His chariots, his horsemen all splendid and brave. Praise to the Conqueror, praise to the Lord; Of those she sent forth in the hour of her pride? E Wisdom. WILLIAM COWPER. RE God had built the mountains, Or raised the fruitful hills; Before He fill'd the fountains That fed the running rills; In me, from everlasting, When, like a tent to dwell in, He wrought by weight and measure, Thus Wisdom's words discover And couldst Thou be delighted And mystery divine! The voice that speaks in thunder, Another year hath fled, renew, As down in the sunless retreats of the ocean; 174 120 257. 9 28 259 159 361 286 Bound upon th' accursed tree, Brightest and best of the sons of the morning, Brother, thou art gone before us, 220 Come not, O Lord, in the dread robe of splendour, 213 Fallen is thy throne, O Israel, Far o'er the wave when the winds are asleep, For ever with the Lord, Forgive, bless'd shade, the tributary tear, Forth in Thy name, O Lord, I go, For ever! it is written on, Forth from the ark the sacred dove, For Thou wert born of woman; Thou didst come, For mercies countless as the sands, Friend after friend departs, 21 79 215 gr 177 167 380 27 360 105 Hark! hark! my soul, angelic songs are swelling, 58 35 276 382 268 84 311 217 378 31 77 92 122 166 290 281 277 93 15 249 |