HYMNOLOGY OF THE CHURCHES.
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��Sept. 20, 1 71 2, contained a hymn that has lived 167 years. The author had encountered a storm at sea, and nar- rowly escaped death. The hymn is founded upon the 107th Psalm, which commences, "Oh, give thanks unto the Lord, for he is good ; for his mercy
��endureth forever." the first stanza
��The following is
��"How are thy servants blest, O Lord ; How sure is their defense ! Eternal wisdom is their guide. Their help, Omnipotence."
The third and fourth stanzas are supposed to have been suggested by the terrific storm the vessel encountered :
•'When by the dreadful tempest borne. High on the broken wave, They know thou art not slow to hear. Nor impotent to save.
The storm is laid, the winds retire,
Obedient to thy will ; The sea, that roars at thy command,
At thy command is still."
That Cowper, subject to mental de- pression much of his life, should have been the author of "John Gilpin," is no more surprising than that the rollicking song writer, Thomas Moore, should have bten the author of the following: hymn, which has a place in the singing- books of sedate christians of most de- nominations :
■•The bird let loose in eastern skies, Returning fondly home, Ne'er stoops to earth her wing, nor flies Where idle warblers roam.
But high she shoots, through air and light. Above all low delay, Where nothing earthly bounds her flight. " Nor shadow dims her way.
So grant me, Lord, from every snare
Of sinful passion free. Aloft, through Faith's serener air
To hold my course to thee.
No sin to cloud, no lure to stay My soul, as home it springs ;
Thy sunshine on her joyful way. Thy freedom in her wings. "
��Many years ago there appeared with much frequency in public journals the productions in rhyme of William B. Tappan, a bookseller of Philadelphia. Under the title of " Heaven " is one from his pen, which became a univer- sal favorite, and is found in books in use by many congregations. The fol- lowing is the first stanza :
•• T here is an hour of perfect rest To mourning wanderers given; There is a joy for souls distressed.
A balm for every wounded breast — "Tis found alone in Heaven."
Further extracts might be made from the works of laymen who furnished much of the hymnology of the churches, such as Wordsworth, Bryant, James Mont- gomery, Bowring, and others ; but we bring this article to its close by adding a production from the pen of a native of Exeter, this state — Rev. W. B. O. Pea- body :
•• Behold the western evening light. It melts in deepening gloom ; So calmly Christians sink away, Descending to the tomb.
The winds breathe low, the withering leaf
Scarce whispers from the trees ; So gently flows the parting breath,
When good men cease to be.
How beautiful on all the hills The crimson light is shed ! 'Tis like the peace the Christian gives, To mourners round his bed.
How mildly on the wandering cloud The sunset beam is cast ! Tis like .the memory left behind When loved ones breathe their last.
And now, above the dews of night,
The rising star appears : So faith springs in the heart of those
Whose eyes are bathed in tears.
But soon the morning's happier light
Its glory shall restore, And eyelids that are sealed in death
Shall wake to close no more.
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