3 Then to His portals press In your divine resorts; With thanks His power profess, And praise Him in His courts. How good! how pure! His mercies last; His promise past Is ever sure. 496. 7s. M. Conder. O Give Thanks Unto the Lord! 1 O, give thanks to Him who made Morning light and evening shade; Source and Giver of all good, Nightly sleep and daily food: Quickener of our wearied powers, Guard of our unconscious hours! 2 O, give thanks to nature's King, Who made every breathing thing; His our warm and sentient frame; His the mind's immortal flame; O, how close the ties that bind Spirits to the Eternal Mind! 3 O give thanks with heart and lip, For we are His workmanship, And all creatures are His care; Not a bird that cleaves the air Falls unnoticed;--but who can Speak the Father's love to man! 4 O give thanks for him who came, In a mortal, suffering frame, Temple of the Deity;-- Came to bear our souls on high; In the path himself hath trod, Leading back his saints to God. 497. 7 & 6s. M. Anonymous. Thanksgiving. 1 Meet and right it is to sing, In every time and place, Praises to our heavenly King, The God of truth and grace. Join we then in sweet accord, All in one thanksgiving join; Holy, holy, holy Lord, Eternal praise be Thine! 2 Thee, the first-born sons of light, In choral symphonies, Praise alway, day without night, In songs that never cease. And with them our hearts aspire, On the wings of faith and love, Vying with the heavenly choir, Who chant Thy praise above. 3 Still they sing, with glory crowned, Thanksgiving to Thy name; Lower if our voices sound, Our hymn is still the same; "Glory be to God on high!" So the song of angels ran, And our voices still reply, "Good-will on earth to man!" 498. 8, 7 & 4s. M. Breviary. Hallelujah, For the Lord Reigneth. 1 Hallelujah! best and sweetest Of the hymns of praise above; Hallelujah! thou repeatest, Angel-host, these notes of love; This ye utter, While your golden harps ye move. 2 Hallelujah! strains of gladness Comfort not the faint and worn; Hallelujah! sounds of sadness Best become the heart forlorn: Our offences We with bitter tears must mourn. 3 But our earnest supplication, Holy God! we raise to Thee; Visit us with Thy salvation, Make us all Thy peace to see! Hallelujah! Ours at length this strain shall be. 499. 7s. M. Montgomery. Praise the Lord!