8, 7, 8, 7 Hark! the Church proclaims her honor, And her strength is only this; God hath laid her choice upon her, And the work she doth is His. 2. He His Church has firmly founded, He will guard what He began; We, by sin and foes surrounded, Build her bulwarks as we can. 3. Frail and fleeting are our powers, Short our days, our foresight dim, And we own the choice not ours, We were chosen first by Him. 4. Onward, then! for naught despairing; Calm we follow at His word, Thus through joy and sorrow bearing Faithful witness to our Lord. 5. Though we here must strive in weakness, Though in tears we often bend, What His might began in meekness Shall achieve a glorious end. S. Preiswerk, 1844; C. Winkworth, tr., 1858. 468 S. M. I love Thy Zion, Lord, The house of Thine abode, The Church our blest Redeemer saved With His own precious blood. 2. I love Thy Church, O God! Her walls before Thee stand, Dear as the apple of Thine eye, And graven on Thy hand. 3. Should I with scoffers join Her altars to abuse? No! better far my tongue were dumb, My hand its skill should lose. 4. For her my tears shall fall, For her my prayers ascend, To her my cares and toils be given Till toils and cares shall end. 5. Beyond my highest joy I prize her heavenly ways, Her sweet communion, solemn vows, Her hymns of love and praise. 6. Jesus, Thou Friend Divine, Our Savior and our King, Thy hand from every snare and foe Shall great deliverance bring. 7. Sure as Thy truth shall last, To Zion shall be given The brightest glories earth can yield And brighter bliss of heaven. T. Dwight, 1800, a. 469 6, 6, 6, 6, 8, 8 (H. M.) Lord of the worlds above, How pleasant and how fair The dwellings of Thy love, Thine earthly temples are! To Thine abode My heart aspires, With warm desires To see my God. 2. Oh, happy souls who pray Where God appoints to hear! Oh, happy men who pay Their constant service there! They praise Thee still; And happy they Who love the way To Zion’s hill. 3. They go from strength to strength Through this dark vale of tears, Till each arrives at length, Till each in heaven appears. Oh, glorious seat, When God, our King, Shall thither bring Our willing feet! Isaac Watts, 1719. MISSIONS. 470 8, 7, 6 l