God With Us on the Deep. 1 Heave, mighty ocean, heave! And blow, thou boisterous wind! Onward we swiftly glide, and leave Our home and friends behind. 2 Away, away we steer, Upon the ocean's breast; And dim the distant heights appear, Like clouds along the west. 3 There is a loneliness Upon the mighty deep; And hurried thoughts upon us press, As onward still we sweep. 4 But there is hope and joy, Wherever we may be; Danger nor death can e'er destroy Our trust, O God, in Thee! 5 Then wherefore should we grieve Or what have we to fear? Though home and friends and life we leave, Our God is ever near. 6 Sweep, mighty ocean, sweep! Ye winds, blow foul or fair! Our God is with us on the deep, Our home is everywhere. 431. P. M. Mrs. Southey. The Mariner's Hymn. 1 Launch thy bark, mariner! Christian, God speed thee! Let loose the rudder bands, Good angels lead thee! Set thy sails warily, Tempests will come; Steer thy course steadily, Christian, steer home! 2 Look to the weather bow, Breakers are round thee; Let fall thy plummet now, Shallows may ground thee. Reef in thy foresail there; Hold the helm fast; So,--let the vessel wear,-- By swept the blast. 3 Slacken no sail yet, at Inlet or island; Straight for the beacon steer,-- Straight for the highland; Crowd all the canvass on, Cut through the foam;-- Christian! cast anchor now; Heaven is thy home! 432. 8 & 7s. M. Sterling. The Husbandman's Hymn. 1 Many a power within earth's bosom, Noiseless, hidden, works beneath; Hence are seed and leaf and blossom, Golden ear and clustered wreath. 2 Wind and frost, and hour and season, Land and water, sun and shade,-- Work with these, as bids thy reason, For they work thy toil to aid. 3 Sow thy seed and reap in gladness! Man himself is all a seed; Hope and hardship, joy and sadness, Slow the plant to ripeness lead. 433. L. M. Flint. Remembrance of Our Fathers. 1 In pleasant lands have fallen the lines That bound our goodly heritage, And safe beneath our sheltering vines Our youth is blest, and soothed our age. 2 What thanks, O God, to Thee are due, That Thou didst plant our fathers here, And watch and guard them as they grew, A vineyard to the planter dear! 3 The toils they bore our ease have wrought; They sowed in tears,--in joy we reap; The birthright they so dearly bought We'll guard, till we with them shall sleep.