2 So pilgrims on the scorching sand, Beneath a burning sky, Long for a cooling stream at hand, And they must drink or die. 3 Not life itself, with all its joys, Can my best passions move, Or raise so high my cheerful voice, As thy forgiving love. 4 Thus, till my last expiring day, I’ll bless my God and King; Thus will I lift my hands to pray, And tune my lips to sing. 699 C. M. The morrow after the Sabbath. Lev. 23:11. Blest day of God! most calm, most bright, The first and best of days: The laborer’s rest, the saint’s delight, The day of prayer and praise. 2 My Saviour’s face made thee to shine; His rising thee did raise: And made thee heavenly and divine Beyond all other days. 3 The first-fruits oft a blessing prove To all the sheaves behind: And they who do the Lord’s day love, A happy week shall find. 4 This day I must to God appear, For, Lord, the day is thine; Help me to spend it in thy fear, And thus to make it mine. 700 S. M. Stand up and bless the Lord. Neh. 9:5. Stand up and bless the Lord, Ye people of his choice; Stand up and bless the Lord your God, With heart, and soul, and voice. 2 O for the living flame, From his own altar brought, To touch our lips, our minds inspire, And raise to heaven our thought! 3 God is our strength and song, And his salvation ours; Then be his love in Christ proclaimed With all our ransomed powers. 4 Stand up and bless the Lord, The Lord your God adore; Stand up, and bless his glorious name, Henceforth for evermore. 701 S. M. Come, we that love the Lord. Come, we that love the Lord, And let our joys be known; Join in a song with sweet accord, And thus surround the throne. 2 The sorrows of the mind Be banished from this place! Religion never was designed To make our pleasures less. 3 Let those refuse to sing Who never knew our God; But children of the heavenly King May speak their joys abroad. 4 The men of grace have found Glory begun below; Celestial fruits on earthly ground From hope and faith may grow. 5 The hill of Zion yields A thousand sacred sweets, Before we reach the heavenly fields, Or walk the golden streets. 6 Then let our songs abound, And every tear be dry; We’re marching o’er this hallowed ground To fairer worlds on high. 702 S. M. Come, sound his praise abroad.